Arthur Miller

[Wired*Nun]

Several months ago...

Arthur wiled away the time in the crew lounge of the Folly, dealing himself another layout of Gunslinger. It was a form of solitaire he learned on the long shipboard days, watching the boards for signs of trouble. Alliance cruisers were so overmanned that the chief had overlooked this form of entertainment, though he had come down hard on loading games onto the system. Understandable.

The sour-faced Old Lady puttered around, but he ignored her. He had no desire to be mothered or gored with her sarcastic wit. As a passenger, he could have avoided her by locking himself in his cabin, but that was getting old. He liked the black, more or less, but a man had to have some space.

His solitaire is interrupted with a loud bang, followed by a nasty thrumming harmonic. Arthur immediately knows one of the pre-injection compressors had failed, catastrophically. He waits for Rios, the ship's grease-monkey, to shut down the engine completely, but it doesn't happen. The thrumming continues.

The pulse drive is unbalanced and the reaction drive is running hot on one compressor. The ship's already being pushed off course, it's gonna get hard to control and if the other compressor fails...three days to Beaumonde could turn into three weeks.

[Candleman]

Arthur sighs heavily and gathers all the cards into a pile, then stands up. He brushes off his coat and makes his way into the engine room, looking for Rios.

"Ay! Rios! Are ye daft? Something's wrong an' it's your job to fix it!"

[Wired*Nun]

The hatch to the engine room sticks. It's difficult on one arm, but after a minute he gets it open. That shows him what made it stick. It's Rios.

One of those one-in-a-millions got the poor bastard. The compressor shaft is sticking out of his right eye, and his body is slumped against the inside of the hatch. The smell of reaction fuel is thick in the air, he knows that one spark could set it off, creating an engine fire or explosion that could kill them all.

He could dog the hatch and get Price to override, vent everything into space. That's the safest thing to do, but the pulse engine will probably melt down and seize. They can limp somewhere on pods, but...

Or he can go for the master shutdown, risking fire or explosion to save the engine.

[Candleman]

Arthur shakes his head, stepping around the dead mechanic. He exhales quickly, getting the stench of fuel out of his lungs, and looks over the engine. He rubs his good arm against his side, slowly working his sleeve up.

He's going for the master shutdown. Better to all die at once than starve to death in the Black.

[Wired*Nun]

He racks his brains for the logic of the engine room layout. He only saw it once before Rios chased him out the last time. Some greaseballs like company, but Rios treated Arthur like a rival, not a fellow. Damn him anyway.

Moving gingerly, he edges around in the cramped space. It has to be around...there. Avoiding moving or kicking any of the metal deris from the compressor, he reaches over with his arm and cranks down the big lever that shuts down the whole system. He's getting lightheaded from the fuel fumes and shallow breathing, so he gets back out fast.

The silence is deafening. The emergency lights come on, and the system switches automatically to battery now that the fusion reactor is shut down. Hiram ought to be switching to pods right about...now.

The low rumble of the pods is a welcome sound. At least they'll build some V and get somewhere slow, even if he can't fix the engine.

Me. Fix the engine. Me and Hiram, I guess. No one else that can on board.

Hiram rounds the corner of the passageway. "What the hell is goin' on. Miller, what are you doin' here? Rios! Rios, how's my engine!"

[Candleman]

"Rios can't talk right now, Cap'n, ee's got compresser in 'is eye."

Arthur looks back into the engine room, surveying the damage and trying to get an idea how to fix it.

"Pre-Injection cm'pressor exploded, sir. Got Rios in his gorram eye. It'll take us all kinds ah time to get anywhere 'til this thing gets fixed."

[Wired*Nun]

Hiram mutters something under his breath, hiding a look of shock. "Rios dead? Or he still breathin? And us without a doc, 'til I kin hire one...no doc, no gearhead...you." A look of comprehension comes to his face.

"You shut down the engine. You know what went wrong. You got 'sperience? You know engines?"

[Candleman]

Arthur doesn't look at him, instead he watches the silent engine. He waves a vague hand at Rio's body. "'Ee ain't breathin', Cap'."

He smiles, without humor. "Sure. Once. In a past life."

[Wired*Nun]

"All right then. Arthur. You just got drafted. Impressed, they used to call it. Just until we get to Beaumonde, or wherever. I'm only a passable mechanic. Only you, me, and the Old Lady on board."

"First priority is get the engine compartment clear and safe. Seal up the damage, close off the affected valves and flow conduits. Next is get the pulse drive runnin slow an' easy on one compressor. Cuts our speed a little below half, make it seven days to Beaumonde 'stead of three. That's my take. What's yours?"

Crusty old bastard's actually asking 'steada telling. Kinda.

[Candleman]

Arthur nods, looking at the damage. "Right, good call. I might be able to rig up some kind of replacement. Rios won't be needin' his tools 'neemore, will 'ee?"

Arthur looks at the old man. "Say, how long you plan on Shanghai-in' me for? Looks like you need a good engineer, and I need something to do."

[Wired*Nun]

"Lotsa time ta discuss that after we're flying right. Let's just call it a tryout. Quit jawin and start working."

*****************************

Suffice it to say, they made it to Beaumonde. Made it there in fine style, they did. A little late, but better than never. Arthur's passenger berth turned into a crew cabin, and the old man let him buy hisself a five percent stake in the ship for his trouble, plus room and board.

Unfortunately, the first thing they did with the cash was down payment on repairs, plus a loan for 2K credits. Had to be done, to get everything runnin, plus lay in some spares. He didn't want to be without another compressor, not that he was going to let one fail again in the black.

A week of hard work on the ground for both of them plus a machinist's mate from the 589 Local, and Folly was good as new. Better. He was startin' to get a feel for the ship. Startin to have a real affection for Folly. After all, they kinda saved each other's lives, more or less.

Cap'n said he's lookin to hire a doc and a pilot, not go shorthanded no more. Maybe get them to buy into the ship too, buy down the debt. Cap'n didn't say where he got the creds, and Arthur didn't ask.

(((will skip to a main prelude thread when I make it.)))