Novels2Search
Scavenger's New Ship
Chapter 8: Heading Back

Chapter 8: Heading Back

Back in the hangar bays, Brighand began putting one of the military spacesuits over his captain outfit. Unlike his old spacesuit, this one was form fitting and felt extremely comfortable to move around in. Even the air felt better, coming from a tank on the back instead of ferried through a long tube. He picked up his old suit, cycled the airlock and pushed off into space.

The implant in his head kept track of the ship, outlining the borders of it in real time to his eyes. In case he missed his target, the suit could expel some of its internal air as a sort of thruster to get back. His destination was his old ship and the loose tubing floating around in space.

"Computer, if you can hear me through the suit or implant, do you have anything to repair this with?" asked Brighand as he grabbed the side of the smaller ship and brought the cut part of the tubing close to himself.

"Communication is possible via the suit but ill advised during combat as it may be intercepted unlike shipwide comms. Repairs are impossible due to lack of repair personnel and the blueprints of said tubing not existing within the databanks of the automated drones. After all, our space suits use internals not ship air through such a worthless device," said the computer in a noticeably lower quality of audio.

"Hey, I get that this kind of suit would be bad for fighting, but it's a spacesuit meant for scavenging. The tubing to provide air means you can stay out of the ship as long as you want and it doubles as a tether for getting back to the ship. And it's high quality to the point this is the first time it's ever required repairs," said Brighand as he slipped inside his old ship.

Once inside, his suit informed him that the air was safe to breathe after a minute long air cycle. This meant that after being cut, his old spaceship's emergency systems cut off the supply of air to the tubing. Otherwise, the ship would've long depressurized with all of the air leaking out. He opened the inner airlock and began searching around for something to repair the tubing with.

"What exactly is the point of repairing it when you won't need to return to space during this trip? It can be inferred from the use of permanent tether spacesuits that the port has oxygen. The salvage from the blown up ship can be moved to your cargo hold and used to pay for more fuel for this ship. Meanwhile you can begin searching for a good engineer to conscript," said the computer.

"That's impossible. Not only are the people at the port naturally perspective, but there are several reasons to pay more attention to me. The disease scare alone means they'll search my ship and check everything. Now there's also a ship owned by the security team sent out to kill me that'll never return. I go back with a cut air supply and a cargo hold full of an obliterated security team ship while trying to buy radioactive fuel with no lead plating on my engine? To top it all off I now have a military grade implant in my head, an officer's clothing from hundreds of years ago, and a functional high grade internals space suit? Even the blind can smell something's up with me," said Brighand.

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"Point taken. Do you wish for the drones to turn the lead byproduct in the engine into lead lining?" asked the computer.

"No, the raw lead itself and I'll turn it over to the port for them to make plating custom for my ship. Send over some cloth or rubber and some sewing tools. Patches aren't uncommon on tubing due to fast traveling space dust. Just needs to look good, not actually be airtight. Then we need to gather scrap and mix in some worthless rocks to make it look rushed so I have an excuse for going back early. Or just wait a few days out," said Brighand.

As instructed, a drone similar to the one that scrapped the blown up ship brought over some needles, metal wire, plastic wrap, rubber strips, and a small pile of lead. It was much smaller than the amount scrapped off in the engine due to these pieces being the only pure lead. Other pieces still contain dangerous traces of radium and uranium. Even with the assurances of the computer that these were safe pieces of lead, Brighand was unwilling to take off his spacesuit while in its presence. Spacesuits were good radiation suit substitutes due their similar function of isolation from the surrounding environment and the need to shield against radiation in space given off by stars.

To patch the tubing, Brighand first sewed a piece of rubber all the way around the cut. Then he wrapped around it and the surrounding tubing with several layers of plastic film. Finally, he wrapped tape over everything. These three layers of protection would pass a courtesy inspection while disguising how big the hole was or how it was breached. To anyone who looked at it, they'd assume it was an overzealous newbie making sure a hole the size of a pin needle wouldn't leak air. No one who would be out in space for long periods of time would trust a section of tubing that's more patches than anything else. They would buy a whole new tube even if they were poor over food and other supplies.

Death by space was one of the most unpleasant ways to go. It was like a fish at the bottom of the ocean being brought to the surface. The change in pressure would cause you to die before suffocation, but you'd live just long enough to feel the pain of both. Once he was satisfied with how the patch looked, Brighand wore it in the airlock and found that a drone had left the necessary scrap and space rocks for going back to the port early. They decided it was the best plan as going back early could be blamed on the tubing breach and explain why they missed the security team sent to kill him to whoever plotted against him. Alongside the scrap was a military issue energy pistol, small and perfect for keeping hidden in a pocket.

“I don’t think I can bring this with me to the port. It’ll be found quickly in any inspection,” said Brighand as he held in his hands and found that the gloves were so bulky that they couldn’t fit into the trigger.

“Unfortunately, the situation has changed. You cannot go to the port unarmed. The drone collected some samples of the pirate remains. They were infected with a disease. Not some cold but a real bioweapon. One designed to sow chaos rather than weaken and kill,” said the computer.