The Alpha Protocol: Alpha Protocol Book 1 by Duncan Hamilton (read more books .txt) 📕

in the time they had available—he forwarded it to Vachon’s personal datapad. He wondered how long it would be before it elicited a reaction.

When he got back into the hangar, he was impressed by the amount of work that had already been done by the drones. The hull had been stripped back to its bare metal, and damage repair was well underway. When that was finished, the extra armour would be mounted, along with the turrets for the Gauss guns, and then they could paint the Bounty in her new naval colours. Seeing as Commodore Iyabo had added the ship to the Navy List, Samson walked around her trying to work out the best place to emblazon ‘TUS Bounty’ for all who encountered her to see. There were two sections on either side of the hull near the Bounty’s stern that he reckoned would be perfect, and could see the lettering in his mind’s eye.

The Bounty might have been his first prize command, but now she would be his first official naval command as acting lieutenant commander. It was difficult not to feel a little swell of pride at the thought, but it wasn’t the time for that. The weight that had been lifted from his shoulders when he got the Bounty back to the depot was now firmly on them again, heavier than ever. There would be a huge amount expected of him over the coming days and weeks—far more than any junior lieutenant could ever expect. Or want.

He watched the drones swarm over the hull, welding repairs in showers of sparks. Would it all be enough? The Bounty would never be a match for even the Sidewinder, no matter what they did. How could she hope to stand up to the unidentified vessel if they encountered it? A naval career had always seemed like an adventure. Now it terrified him.

Samson hovered outside the door to the brig, wondering if there was any way around letting Harper out. As best he could estimate, without her help, he could have either an upgraded engine or an upgraded bridge suite. To carry out the task assigned to him, he needed both. He hit the chime to let her know someone was coming in, then opened the door.

Harper stood to attention. A positive start, at least.

‘At ease,’ Samson said.

‘Permission to speak,’ she said.

Samson nodded.

‘I don’t expect you to forgive me, sir, and I don’t expect you to let things slide. I know I’ve a court martial headed my way, and I know what the outcome of that is going to be. All I ask is that you give me a chance to be useful until that happens. Until the fleet arrives and I’m taken into custody.’

Samson nodded slowly as he digested the words. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, but he wasn’t sure he believed her, and had no intention of making it easy for her.

‘Your conduct has already been recorded in my logs, so there’s no going back on that,’ Samson said, ‘but I’m willing to give you the opportunity to be of use to us now. Your former crewmates and I need all the help we can get. Your assistance may even be viewed as mitigating when it comes to your sentencing. I can’t promise anything, but it can’t hurt.’

‘I’d appreciate that opportunity, sir. The Navy has been my life, and I’ve made a complete mess of it. For what it’s worth, I was wrong, and I’m sorry for that. The circumstances were… They were no excuse. I was wrong. I made a mistake.’

‘It is what it is,’ Samson said. He didn’t have time for small talk, and didn’t have it in him to forgive her, so he got right to the point. ‘Frontier Command have tasked me with upgrading the Bounty to carry out patrol duties in anticipation of the Third Fleet’s arrival. I have a very short window to carry out those refits, so I need every pair of hands. Can I trust you to carry out software and hardware upgrades on the bridge?’

‘You can, sir.’

Samson nodded. ‘Well, we best get to it then.’

19

The two days of retrofit had been exhausting work, with only short breaks for food and sleep. Samson pushed them hard, but they had far more to do than just refitting a ship. Every minute they put in now—every repair, every extra system—could make a difference when they were out on patrol, but he knew he needed to keep them as fresh as he could for when they were actually out there. An exhausted crew, half asleep, was no good to anyone.

As Samson surveyed what they’d achieved, he felt it was worth the effort. The Bounty looked as Navy-like as she could, her two Gauss guns—mounted on ball turrets, one on each flank—giving her an aggressive demeanour that Samson wouldn’t have believed. Overall, the results had exceeded his expectations. Clad in her new grey livery, she was barely recognisable as the ship he had scanned from the Sidewinder’s bridge. She would never be a thoroughbred warship, but they had made as much of her as they could.

Vachon had the power plant running with nearly three times the output of Arlen’s days—far in excess of Samson’s hopes. The addition of a dozen banks of power cells in the former cargo hold—which were now being charged—would ensure they could fire the Gauss guns at their maximum operational rate. Upgraded comms and sensors meant they would be able to transmit and receive through the Nexus and would be able to stay in constant contact with Frontier Command.

Vital areas of the ship had additional layers of armour plating, although they provided only a modest increase of protection to vital systems. Vachon had also been able to modify several internal doors into airtight bulkheads as was standard on naval vessels, creating isolated compartments that would allow the ship to remain effective even in the event of several hull-puncturing hits.

The thrusters had been cleaned, overhauled, and