A few days had gone by since the meetings had taken place, and Tuesday had rolled around. I had stopped production on Saturday and used the remaining materials to create an additional 3 printers. They were all based on the Strathari model, but they were all on the smaller side of things.
I had noticed that, generally, the 3x3 meter printer was faster than the 8x8 meter and so on and so forth. As it turns out, the bigger a nanoprinter was, the slower it printed. I had Marcos draw out the schematics from the original 3x3 nanoprinter and found out that they had an innate detector that would spread or concentrate power based on the size of the printer. In other words, the bigger printers were just as fast as the smaller printers, but since they were scaled up, that speed was generally reserved for bigger constructions.
The huge 15x15 meter nanoprinter could print a composite layered sandwich of armor plates, something that was huge, in the same time frame that a small printer could print out 3 Mk1 vents. It may not look like the same, but when you take into consideration the material used and the size of the constructs, you realize that a huge printer creates a piece of armor that's 50x the size and 10x the thickness of a vent. However, that very same printer will print out a vent in the time frame that the 3x3 meter printer could print out 15 vents.
Since I knew I could assemble all three printers within a day, I had also decided to experiment a little before the next batch of materials arrived, and I ended up making these printers circular. So now I had 3 circular 3x3 meter nanoprinters, 1 cubed 3x3 meter printer, an 8x8 meter printer, and a 15x15 meter printer.
I decided I wasn't going to be using the 15x15 meter printer for the time being, so I simply touched it and stored it in my inventory for the time being. The 8x8 meter printer didn't have as much of a time disparity as the 15x15 meter printer, so I decided to keep it around, relegating it to printing Model 1C vents for the time being.
The materials arrived today, and it was a little bit of a chaotic scene. Parked just about a kilometer off the Shipyard, due to its sheer size, was a 600-meter cargo ship. From it, about 30 small transport ships with 2 clawlike arms at their front end, resembling mining ships, broke off to deliver the material.
It had cost me 1.2 million credits to get all this material, but considering how I had 2 badly damaged military corvettes coming for repairs tomorrow, I didn't think the material would be occupying space for too long. Plus, I also have to maintain a production of thermal vents, and there is also that one Corvette they had told me I could have as part of the payment. God knows just how badly damaged it was for the Navy to prefer it being scrapped or given away rather than to have it repaired.
The rest of the day was a blur of logistics. I had a bunch of small cargo transports coming in and out of Docking Bay #2, stacking the materials as high as they could. I also coordinated with the GalNet dispatch, letting them know that their 2nd batch should be ready by tomorrow, and spent three hours recalibrating all the small printers to run at 110% speed without warping the alloy.
By the time everything was said and done, 18:39 had rolled around, my eyes were burning, but my spirit was soaring. I grabbed my jacket and headed out. Sergeant Miller and his squad had gotten quite comfortable around me, and I found them sitting around and playing cards in the main office. As soon as they saw me, they put their cards down and got ready to move.
"I've done with most of the things I wanted to do for the day," I said with a yawn. "I'm going to get Lyra."
"We're coming with," Miller said.
"Suit yourselves," I shrugged. Honestly, things had started to blow over rather quickly. The blockade on Mechanicus Station had ended by Lyra's birthday, just 2 days after the incident had occurred. I was still recognized by the people around the station, but aside from a nod and a smile, people just went about their day.
We picked up Lyra from the orphanage, who was bubbling with energy, wearing a paper hat she had made in art class. She chattered the entire way back about how she had explained the concept of torque to Timmy because Marcos had already taught it to her a while back, and they were just getting into it with the new educational modules.
"And then Timmy tried to twist his arm to see the torque, and he cried!" she giggled.
"Don't go around breaking the other kids, Bug," I admonished gently, though I was smiling.
"I didn't!" She shook her head adamantly. "I fixed him. And then I gave him a sticker."
"I see," I said. "If you're so good at fixing things, I'm sure you'll make a great engineer."
As we approached the shipyard, the Marines started to lessen their tension and started scanning the perimeter. But there was no threat around. There was just a solitary figure standing by the entrance to Shephard Orbital Works.
She was leaning against the office door, her arms crossed. She wore the uniform of a Navy Commander, but it was slightly different from Calissa's, as this one was darker. A black beret was tucked under her epaulet.
She looked up as we approached, and I felt my step falter for a second.
I knew that face. I hadn't seen it in years, but I immediately recognized her. She was older now. She was 3 years older than me, so she was probably thirty-five, if not thirty-six. Her hair was a dark auburn, cut in a severe bob. Her eyes were an emerald green that were currently filled with a mixture of curiosity and sadness.
Commander Elena Rhen.
If my memory served me right, then she had been Kaelen's second-in-command on the Indifference. We had a little bit of a rivalry going, especially since Kaelen had decided to take her directly under his wing and throw me to the wolves of the academy. Though thinking back on it, I guess I had learned enough from him by the time I entered the academy to ace my way through it, so it didn't really matter. But younger me was hurt by it.
She pushed off the crate and walked toward us.
Sergeant Miller stepped forward, his hand drifting to his pulse rifle. "Ma'am? How can we help you?"
She ignored him, her eyes locking onto mine. She stopped five feet away.
"You are Mark Shephard, correct?" she asked. Her voice was raspy, like she hadn't spoken in hours.
I nodded my head, pushing aside all the memories I had of this woman. "Yes, ma'am, that's me. I would offer you a handshake, but my hands are a little tied right now. What can I do for you?"
She looked at the groggy Lyra in my arms, who had grown tired after talking nonstop for almost 20 minutes about her day, and then back up at me.
"I can see that," she said, a soft smile spreading across her face. "My name is Elena Rhen, Commander in the IUC's 7th fleet, and currently its acting Admiral."
"Acting admiral?" I frowned, accidentally saying my thoughts outloud.
"Yes," she nodded solemnly. "Admiral Strathmore has been in a biopod for about 2 months now after a severe accident."
I felt my heart sink at that, and if I didn't have such a good poker face, I'm pretty sure she would catch my reaction. "I see. I'm sorry to hear that. But please, let's step into my office. I assume you are here to discuss the delivery of the Corvettes that need repair and the one you are going to scrap."
I saw her nod, and so I walked past her and through the doors that slid open as I approached. Kenjiro was inside the office, hunched over the main console as he seemed to be experimenting with the design of the Mk1.
"What're you working on?" I asked as I approached him.
"Trying to see if there is a way for us to increase the fuel savings even more with these vents," he replied with a sigh. "But it seems like you got it down to the tee on the first model. I tried changing the telemetry of it, but nada. It only works to make things worse. I have no clue how you did it."
"Yeah, maybe I should've just milked it with various generations, huh?" I chuckled while setting Lyra down in my chair. I then turned to Elena and pointed to the seat. "Please, have a seat."
She nodded and sat down.
"So, what is it you wanted to discuss?" I asked.
Elena Rhen let out a soft sigh before proceeding. "I wanted to give you a detailed breakdown of the repairs in person, and you also need to sign the contract."
I nodded. "Well, I assumed they were going to be quite extensive. Most likely from a battle, considering how many credits you are offering."
"You would be correct in your assumption," Elena nodded.
"Well then, give it to me straight," I said. "What am I looking at?"
She dug into her uniform pocket and pulled out a data chip, handing it over to me. "This contains the images and a descriptive report of the damage done to each vessel."
"Holy sh- Jesus," I let out a surprised gasp, catching myself as I remembered Lyra was sitting behind me. I leaned into the terminal on my desk and got a brief overview. "How were any of these ships in shape to even be transported? One of them had its reactor destroyed, and the other's frame is twisted to hell and back, especially at the bow."
"Yeah, it was quite the fight," Elena said. "We only arrived after it was all over."
I kept on reading the report, a bunch of names were redacted, but that didn't mean I couldn't infer one of them.
"Is this how Admiral Strathmore was injured?" I asked, but Elena refused to speak. "Lack of an answer is an answer itself, you know?
She nodded as her gaze lowered.
"So, the Swift Justice and the Vengeance need to be repaired," I said, glancing over the report on the Vengeance. "Well, at least the Vengeance's damage is mostly from inertia and a few penetrating hits. She should be rather easy to fix, well, in comparison to the Swift Justice... Are you sure you want to repair her? Hell, it might just be cheaper to scrap it and use the material to build a new one. I mean, it was an interceptor corvette. Why not just replace it with one of Vector Dynamics' Gladius-Class Heavy Corvettes? Pricewise, it's just about 12 million more credits than what the Swift Justice's base model costs."
Elena hesitated for a second before answering my inquiries. "The 7th Fleet isn't in the best position to be splurging at the moment."
"Splurging?" I did a double-take. "You're going to be paying three-quarters of the Swift passage's price for what will essentially be a rebuild. Are you sure the IUC wants to sink 35 million credits into a ship that should be scrapped?"
"Those were the orders we received, along with a recommendation for your shipyard," Elena stated. "If it is an issue for you, I'm pretty sure there are many more private shipyards out there that would love to take the Navy's business."
"Yeah, and they'll strip you of every single credit for it," I said. "I'm just saying that it's more work to repair such a badly damaged ship than it would be to build a whole new one. But hey, if you're footing the bill..."
"That is part of the reason why we are offering you the Retribution as part of your payment," Elena said.
"Yeah, because another ship that should be scrapped definitely bridges the gap," I said with a sigh. "I'll do it. Based on the length of the ships and the damage... shit-"
"Ooh, Papa, you said a bad word," Lyra chimed up from behind me with a stifled giggle.
I let out a soft chuckle and locked eyes with Elena. "Marcos, how long would you estimate this to take us?"
Marcos' voice came from the speakers of my terminal after a few seconds. "Well, Mark, given the damage done to the Vengeance, I believe with your skill set, she should be airworthy in two weeks, maybe three. Unless you open up a whole can of worms once it's actually delivered. As for the Swift Justice... It should definitely be scrapped, but maybe half a year will be enough time, give or take a month."
I nodded to his response while feeling a headache starting to spread near the back right side of my skull. "So, there you have it-"
"Half a year?!?!" My words were rudely interrupted by not only Elena, but also Kenjiro, as both of them shouted in surprise.
'Right... you dumbass, that's still a few months faster than the average shipyard,' I mentally kicked myself. 'And with the addition of more printers, it should be even faster...'
"That's right," I said. "Unlike the average shipyard, there is no bureaucratic process I have to go through to complete my work. Plus, what can I say? Efficiency is my middle name."
The silence that followed was heavy, laden with skepticism. Elena leaned forward, her emerald eyes narrowing as she analyzed me.
"Mr. Shephard, with all due respect, the Imperial Naval Shipyards at Celestine Prime average thirteen to sixteen months for a keel-up restoration of a Corvette in this condition," she said, her voice dropping an octave, becoming the steel-hard tone of a commander used to calling out bullshit. "You are claiming you can do it in a quarter of that time, with a private facility, on a civilian station? If you are trying to impress me to secure the contract, don't. I need realistic timelines, not sales pitches. Lives depend on these hulls."
I straightened my back and stretched. I could feel Kenjiro's gaze on me. He had been with me when we did the full retrofit of the gunship for the Void Vanguards, but he was still practically begging me to walk back the statement. However, I held Elena's stare. This was the difference between standard manufacturing and what I was bringing to the table. The IUC was bogged down by the speed at which humanity's current printers created parts.
"Commander Rhen, I don't do sales pitches," I replied, my voice steady. "The Naval Yards of Primus (Celestine Prime's Solar System) are bogged down by unions, supply chain requisitions that take six weeks to approve a single bolt, and a whole other bunch of things. My setup, on the other hand, is different. I control my supply chain and my fabrication methods are... proprietary, but they allow for faster construction times."
I tapped the desk, bringing up a holographic wireframe of the Swift Justice Marcos had created as soon as he got access to the data chips. It was a mess. The rectangular hull, usually a brutalist block of intimidating armor, looked like someone had taken a bite out of it. The structural integrity was compromised along the port side keel, and the engine housing was essentially slag.
"Look at the ventral plating," I pointed out, highlighting the red zones on the display. "Standard procedure would be to cut this entire section out, forge a new plate off-site, ship it in, and weld it. That's a whole month right there. The Navy doesn't want to do more work than they are paying for. By the time they are done, you are left with a ship full of patch jobs. I don't do that. I strip the entire section, from joint to joint, and rebuild that. It's much easier to replace an entire section than to systematically remove a small piece and place it back on."
Elena studied the hologram, then looked back at me. She wasn't an engineer, but she knew enough to know that what I was suggesting bordered on the impossible for a civilian contractor.
"If you fail to meet this deadline," she warned, "the penalties in the contract are severe. We're talking liquidation of your assets."
"I can read," I said dryly. "And I'm willing to take that bet, but just to play it safe, give me an extra two months for the repair of the Swift Justice."
We spent the next hour hashing out the finer details. We argued over ammo replenishment costs, drydock fees, and the specific grade of Tungsten-Carbide armor plating the Navy required. I fought for every credit, not just because I needed the money, but because I needed her to respect me. In this world, if you didn't fight for your worth, you were just another cog to be ground down.
Eventually, the sun began to set on the station's simulated cycle, casting long shadows across the office. Kenjiro had long since excused himself to check on the printers, leaving just me, Elena, and a sleeping Lyra in the chair behind me.
The business was concluded and the contracts signed. But the heavy weight in my chest hadn't lifted.
The image of the man who had essentially raised me, stuck in a tube, floating in bio-gel, wouldn't leave my mind. He was the closest thing to a father I had ever had in this life. He was the one who taught me that a ship was only as good as its crew, and a crew was only as good as their trust in each other.
"Commander," I said, breaking the silence as she stood up to leave.
She paused, smoothing out her uniform. "Yes, Mr. Shephard?"
"There is... one more thing," I said. "A personal request."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."
I took a breath, calculating my next words carefully. I couldn't tell her who I really was. To the universe, Mark Shepherd, the Captain, was dead, killed in action years ago. I was just a coincidental namesake with a fake file that grew more real with every passing hour.
"You mentioned Admiral Strathmore is in stasis," I said, keeping my voice low so as not to wake Lyra. "I'd like to request permission to come aboard the flagship and pay my respects."
Elena's expression hardened instantly. The professional negotiator vanished, replaced by the protective XO. "The Admiral is in a secure medical bay on a heavily restricted deck of a Capital Ship. We don't allow civilians, let alone contractors, to wander the halls just to gawk at a war hero."
"I'm not looking to gawk," I said, letting a bit of edge creep into my tone. "I knew his son."
"You knew Mark?" She looked at me with open skepticism. "Mark had spent 12 years in the academy before being deployed all over the empire to chase pirates. You're a mechanic on a civilian station. Where exactly would your paths have crossed?"
"Mark and I were childhood friends," I said. "Before the Admiral adopted him, and we split paths."
Elena's eyes narrowed.
"I heard Mark died almost three years ago," I said, sounding downcast.
"He did," she said softly. "He was a good man. A good Captain, but an even better pilot."
Elena studied me for a long, agonizing minute. She was looking for the lie and deception in me. But the emotion I was portraying was real.
"I don't recall the mention of Mark Shepherd," she said slowly. "Not from Mark, not from Kaelen. And I knew Kaelen better than anyone."
She looked down at her datapad, her thumb hovering over the screen. I knew what she was doing. She was pulling up my file, the file Marcos had created in the IUC database, which had been heavily redacted.
"Your file is... complicated, Mr. Shepherd," she noted, her brow furrowing. "Clearance levels that don't match your occupation. Redactions that you wouldn't even see applied to Intelligence assets or special forces."
"I've had an interesting life," I said ambiguously. "But I'm not a threat to the Admiral. You have my word."
She looked from the datapad to me, and then to the sleeping girl behind me. The sight of Lyra seemed to soften her resolve, if only by a fraction. It probably reminded her that I wasn't just someone with ulterior motives or a spy. I was just a father who wanted to pay his respects to another.
"Strictly supervised," she said finally, her voice stern. "You will be escorted by Marines at all times. You will not speak to any crew members unless addressed. You have ten minutes in the medical bay, and then you are off my ship. Is that understood?"
"Crystal clear, Commander," I said, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "Thank you."
"Don't make me regret this," she warned. "We are docked at the Naval Anchorage, Berth 4. You can accompany me on the shuttle back. Do you have someone to watch the girl?"
I looked back at Lyra. "Kenjiro can watch her."
"Good," Elena said, turning toward the door. "Make your arrangements. A transport shuttle will arrive here in twenty minutes."
I gently shook Lyra awake. "Hey, Bug. Wake up. I need to go do some work stuff. Uncle Kenji is going to watch you for a bit, okay?"
Lyra rubbed her eyes, yawning widely. "Can I have pizza?"
"You can have whatever you want," I promised, kissing her on the forehead. "Just not too much, or you'll get fat."
As I walked Elena out onto the docks, I handed Lyra over to a very confused but willing Kenjiro. I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom.
But I had to see him. I had to know if there was anything I could do. And deep down, a part of me needed to see my father figure, even if he couldn't see me back.
---
Book 2 has wrapped up at Chapter 50, which is a short 13,400 words, and Book 3 has hit the ground running with new chapters! That means that you can read up to 27 Advanced Chapters on my Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/cw/Crimson_Reapr
But listen closely now. I'm currently editing Chapter 13, so that number will naturally increase to 28 in an hour or two.
Crimson_Reapr is the name, and writing Sci-fi is the way.