"They don't need to be
real
warships," Zant protested. "Mostly they'll be fighting unarmed freighters and a few minesweepers."
"We have built minesweepers," Rama replied. "They are warships, and are designed like warships. They are lightly armed, it is true, but they have good shields and strong frames and hulls."
"Well," Cale put in, "What do we do?"
"Forget ships," Rama said. "Assemble one large base ship, perhaps a Din-class, for each system. This ship does not fight; it serves as a base. Then use gunboats. Small vessels with much maneuverability and speed, but little armor. Mount a weapon on the centerline, so the pilot aims it by aiming the boat. Two or three such could easily overwhelm a minesweeper."
Cale was disgusted. "Where are we supposed to get
boats
?" he asked. "I'm lucky we've got ships!"
Rama smiled gently. "You already have many. This ship has sixteen."
Zant got it first. "The
lifeboats
! He's talking about the lifeboats!"
Cale thought about it. They'd used one of the lifeboats to survey the yard. As he remembered, it was not a particularly high-performance vessel. On the other hand, if you removed twenty stasis units, they might be quite a bit livelier. "But this is the only liner," he protested. "On second thought," he added, "sixteen might be enough for two systems."
Rama shook his head. "You will need more. You must give the pilots shifts and rest times. That is the purpose of the base ship. And there will be losses. But it is no worry," he added. "All Alpha and Beta class ships carry lifeboats. Not so many as a liner, but a few." He consulted his list of ships. "I would estimate at least twenty-five boats available, and possibly thirty."
"I don't know," Cale said. "What do you think, Zant?"
Zant had no doubts. "I think Rama's a genius!" he replied. "Lifeboats almost never get used; if they do, they're usually replaced. Strip out the lifeboat furniture to make it faster and more maneuverable, add a laser, and you've got an attack boat – a
new
attack boat. No worries about worn out parts failing, or stuff having been removed. We can round up dozens of various-sized lasers and quickfirers. And we can carry six or eight boats in a Din-class, maybe more."
Cale was nodding, now, convinced. "Do you think we can talk the pilots into it?"
Zant shrugged. "If not, they're not the people we need!"
They used the lifeboat they'd already used to survey the yard. The Vishnu techs removed the twenty stasis units, as well as all the associated medical and other emergency equipment. They mounted a laser and fusactor from a corvette on the boat's centerline, and engraved a targeting grid on the viewport in front of the pilot.
Then Zant took the boat for a test drive. Of course, there was no shortage of derelicts for him to target, but he treated it like a rehearsal for combat. He spent over two hours looping far outside the orbit of Torlon, and then came driving back at max acceleration. As he approached the orbital yard, he began madly zigzagging, rolling, and looping, as though evading the fire of an enemy. Suddenly he dodged toward the hulk they had selected as his target, steadied for a moment, and then jerked away, looping far out while maneuvering madly. When he had completed his loop, he again boosted max toward the hulk, swinging past it at the last moment.
He came back enthusiastic. "She's not really as fast as she looks," he said. "But she'll pull almost 3G's if she's got the room to build the accel. All that mass we took out also makes her maneuver a lot better. As far as the attack itself, targeting was a dead cinch. It took no attention at all. I used the rescue ranging radar to make sure of a hit first time, every time. It's no
Strengl
, but for our purposes, it'll do."
That reminded Cale. "By the way," he said, "there's a
Strengl
in the ground yard. But it's missing its inertial drive."
"
What
!" Zant cried. "You
forgot
about a strokin'
Strengl
? How could anyone forget something like that?" He rounded on Rama. "How about it? Have we got an ID that'll work in a
Strengl
?"
Rama shrugged. "It is possible. However, please remember that the ship has been stored outside in a planetary atmosphere for an unknown length of time. It may be unusable." He looked up at Torlon. "The night side is approaching. Examination of the ship will have to wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, I assume we are to continue with the lifeboat conversions?"
"Oh, yeah," Zant shot back. "They're the best chance we've got right now. That is, unless Cale 'remembers' a few dozen more
Strengl
's!"
Cale grinned. "Sorry, all out. But we might also check for workboats, gigs, barges, and other assorted small craft. You never know what you might find in a scrap yard!"
The final tally was twenty-eight lifeboats, three workboats, four Captain's gigs, and even a gaudy admiral's barge. Two of the workboats were badly worn, but the third was cannibalized to repair them. They were to be assigned to mine placement duties. The four captain's gigs were actually better suited to their purposes than the lifeboats, as they were smaller, with higher-performance inertial drives. Beneath its gaudy gingerbread, the admiral's barge also proved to have a high performance inertial drive, and stripping out the nonessentials only enhanced its agility.
There was an argument about the
Strengl
. Rama pronounced it salvageable, and was certain a suitable inertial drive could be found. However, finding it on the ground and moving it to orbit for repair would be two different things. Rama decided that once they could get a Din-class in a condition to safely land and take off, the
Strengl
could be loaded aboard. However, moving the ship from the yard to the port apron would be a major project in itself.
Cale thought it was more trouble than it would be worth when completed, but Zant was determined. He bribed several of the Vishnu techs to work overtime on one of the Din-class ships slated to be base ships. then he and three Vishnu techs used a lifeboat to go down to the ground yard and find and repair Nabel's old but serviceable tow tractor, and jack up the
Strengl
in readiness to move it.
Finally Rama pronounced the Din-class ready to try landing and taking off. By this time, everyone, including Cale, wanted Zant to succeed with the fighter. When they went down to retrieve it, Cale and Dee formed a guard escort, with military-style blasters. An even dozen Vishnu techs had volunteered to assist in the project.
The Din-class, with the faded name
Minetoo
painted on her scratched antirad coating responded well to power and control. One of the Vishnu techs landed her smoothly and gently. Ferrying ships to and from orbit was routine for these workers.
If anyone were watching, Cale thought, it must have looked like an invasion. The huge cargo doors dropped, creating ramps, and the volunteers swarmed down the ramps enthusiastically. Cale was a bit concerned about the local residents, but none showed themselves.
Slowly, slowly the tow tractor moved the unwieldy spaceship through the yard, volunteers clearing the pathway ahead. They were moving slower than a funeral procession, and it took over three hours to reach the port apron and
Minetoo
.
The Vishnu techs were experts at moving ships. As they approached
Minetoo
, an "I" beam Cale didn't even know existed on a Din-class extended itself, and a very heavy winch crawled out along it. When they reached the foot of the ramp, a hook dropped from the winch and one of the Vishnu techs climbed the outside of the
Strengl
and connected the hook to a concealed loop on the fighter.
The winch hummed, and the
Strengl
lifted seemingly effortlessly. A cable was hooked to a landing jack, and all the techs climbed into the Din-class's capacious hold and started pulling the fighter in, while Cale stood openmouthed. He couldn't believe that mere human muscle was moving such a large burden. Finally, the
Strengl
was inside the hold, and being anchored down to padeyes by heavy chains. The strange "I" beam retracted into the ship, and the cargo hatches closed.
Once in orbit it was decided that they could work on the
Strengl
as easily in
Minetoo
as anywhere else, so Zant found himself suiting up and jumping from
Pride
to
Minetoo
every day, watching carefully as 'his' ship was repaired.
Finally, it
was
ready. Zant fairly danced with impatience as 'his' new toy was readied. He wore a skinsuit space suit of the type worn by professional spaceboat racers, and held a helmet under his arm. When attached to the clips around his neck, the suit was as effective a space suit as the huge, clumsy rigger's suits worn for heavy construction. Due to their inability to deal with the absolute zero of space for prolonged periods, however, skinsuits were not considered suitable for long-term wear under vacuum conditions. Rather, they were considered emergency equipment for people unable to wear a common utility suit in confined spaces. Confined spaces like the cockpit of a
Strengl
fighter, for instance.
This was a test of a rebuilt ship; Zant was taking no chances. He would be suited, and he even had a pure oxygen bottle in case he began to 'gray out' during a high-G maneuver.
At last, the preflight checks were over, and Zant wriggled his way into the tiny cockpit. The ship was over 50 meters long, but it was so crammed with weaponry and electronics that the space left for the pilot was claustrophobic.
Zant threw Cale a wide grin, and then put on his helmet and closed the clamshell cockpit. Bystanders hurried to clear the hold as the
Strengl
's inertial engine began to spin up. As soon as the last person was out of the hold, the pumps began pumping the atmosphere into holding tanks. When the pressure equalled a low-grade vacuum, the cargo doors swung open.
With the inertial drive ready, Zant released the docking clamps, and the small fighter drifted gently into space in response to tiny blasts of the drive.
Once clear of
Minetoo
, Zant began feeding power to the drive, and was surprised how quickly he was pushed into the padding of his contoured seat. He watched as the acceleration gauge climbed at a much faster rate than the power gauge. He eased off the power and watched the acceleration gauge react, then suddenly slammed the throttle to its stop. He was driven deep into the seat, and quickly reached for the pure oxygen as the acceleration needle swung past 5G with no sign of slowing. He quickly pulled back on the throttle. If he'd had room, Zant would have been dancing with excitement. He'd never experienced such power before! He backed it down to 3G and began maneuverability tests. Unsurprisingly, the little ship seemed almost to respond to a thought. The slightest movement of the control produced a response; significant movement meant he was thrown about by side forces.
Zant was in love. Oh, he knew that technically the
Strengl,
like every other ship in the scrap yard, belonged to Cale. However, if Cale wouldn't sell him this beauty he'd . . . he'd, well, he'd
beg
!
Zant finally returned some four hours later, his fuel nearly exhausted. He didn't bother to return to
Minetoo
. He matched orbits with
Pride
, popped his canopy, squirmed out, and then jumped across to
Pride
's airlock.
"It's
amazing
!" he enthused. "Incredible. It's better than home-brewed sex! Well," he admitted, "
almost
as good as home-brewed sex."
Cale, having experienced Nabel's
L'Rak
, had a pretty good understanding of Zant's feelings. The rush of operating an ultra-high-performance machine was almost sexual in its intensity. He almost wished he could fly the
Strengl
, but he had other plans for him and
Cheetah
.
Then he remembered, and smiled. The
Strengl
might be Zant's baby, but
he
owned it! His smile became a broad grin.
Finally, they were ready. The Vishnu workers had been as good as their word, hard working, uncomplaining, with ever-present smiles and a number of useful ideas. And Zant had not been pessimistic; it
had
taken them nearly a month.
Cale had become more interested in one of the most unusual vessels in the yard than in Zant's
Strengl
. Somewhere in its checkered past, someone had needed a mobile fortress. He or she took a Chata-class freighter, braced its interior with a forest of extra bracing, and installed a huge fusactor and a planetary defense laser. Several smaller fusactors had also been installed to power a dozen smaller, destroyer-sized lasers. Everything else had been stripped out except inertial and jump engines, basic life support, and simple living accommodations for what appeared to be about fifty crew. She had shields, but they were powered by the life-support fusactors, which would have to be switched back and forth between the two functions. Rama spent two long days inspecting the nameless vessel, and found her to be in remarkably good condition. Oh, her fusactors were dead, their fuel exhausted, but he suspected that fuel might very well be nearly all she would need.
They laboriously manhandled the massive fuel containers from
Cheetah
to the hulk, and the Vishnu techs partially refueled her. Then, with Cale and Dee fidgeting in their suits, Rama tried to light off the secondary fusactor controlling life support. There was no sound in the vacuum, of course, but Cale was certain he could barely feel a faint vibration begin. Various indicators came effortlessly to life, and Cale saw Rama's head nod in satisfaction inside his helmet. In moments, lights came on, and an excited Cale hugged Dee in excitement.
Rama's smile was calm. "Ah, but now we must see about the large weapons fusactor," he said calmly. However, it, too appeared completely functional, and Cale even fired a bolt from the huge planetary defense laser. These weapons were intended to be mounted on moons or planets. The fusactors powering them were as massive as the weapons themselves, generating megagigawatts of power to the huge laser projector. The one on the Chata-class nearly filled an entire cargo hold on the big freighter. It was not so much mounted in the hold, as built into it, welded to girders that functioned as badly needed bracing. The lasers were designed to be powerful enough to generate a beam that could penetrate a planetary atmosphere and still remain an effective anti-ship weapon. The beam itself was nearly a meter in diameter, and in space, would be effective at more than a light-minute's distance.