Nellie and the Nanites - Bk3 - Ch.5

Chapter Five

Space Stations and Extra Legs

“Welcome back, Captain,” Remy said as Nellie walked onto the Bridge of the Bly. It was nice to be back. Planets were all very well and good, but she needed the sounds and feel of a ship around her to feel comfortable. Something had happened to her in those busy few days marooned in an ore belt with nothing but a few compartments blasted off a larger ship to keep her alive. The success she felt the moment the Bly first moved, the safety she felt when they completed the first Hull. 

It had all changed something deep inside the previously planet-bound Nellie. She only felt safe in space, so she had decided not to settle on the planet with the Duke’s Hope people or even with her own. Personally, she was perfectly happy on the Bly, but she was sure the rest of her crew would feel a little confined after a while. 

“Thanks,” Nellie said. “Let’s set course for the station and see what the Centrum scouts found in there.”

Baz got them underway while Nellie sat back into the Captain’s chair and started bringing up supply lists and inventories of everything they had on board. Lucy obviously figured out what she was doing almost immediately and started highlighting the needed items as she went through them.

An almost complete Space Station shell was waiting for them here. It would be a damn shame to waste that kind of gift. Sure, she could process the entire thing with nanites and salvage the metal and alloys for use in the new Duke’s Hope colony, but why would she? They had their own plans, and not to put too fine a point on it, the person who pointed out she was ‘not one of them’ was completely correct. She had her own people, goals, and, well, not plans, but she planned to make plans. 

Might as well start now. 

“Lucy, start cycling up the Centrum units and get them ready to deploy in Zero-G conditions. Remy, make sure we have a track on as much of the debris as possible.” Nellie said as she highlighted the major sections of the station on the targeting and tracking scanners. “Paren, I want you to start designing some self-sustaining turrets to deploy around the station.”

“I can do that,” Lucy offered.

“She needs to be kept busy,” Nellie replied. “Or she’ll want to go and get more ‘pets’ from the moon.

“I definitely do want that,” Paren said over the intercom, “Oh, I broke the security codes again, Remy.” Her satisfaction at that fact was as clear as day. 

“I’ll set them up again,” Remy sighed. “I swear the rotating encryption lock would hold against her.” That last bit was directed to Nellie.

“You should focus more on what will stand up to ANY attack.” Nellie frowned. 

“Captain,” Remy said seriously, “I exceeded that threshold about five attempts ago. At this point, I would swear she is beyond any security lockout. I will, of course, keep trying.”

“Baz, start plotting routes to pick up as much of the salvage Remy has plotted as possible,” Nellie went on, putting the apparent unstoppable Paren to the back of her mind. 

“We setting up a new yard?” Dar asked. 

“No,” Nellie said with a grin, “We’re going to repair that space station.”

It was an awesome declaration. It was a true Captain moment, but it was only the start. Saying let’s build a space station is a lot simpler than actually doing it. It wasn’t just a matter of collecting all the materials and starting the processing like it would be on a planet. The parts were in space already, at least most of them. A Zero-G, frictionless environment. That meant complications at every step. 

Just to connect them all together again was a massive undertaking. Each and every one of the three large sections required a set of micro-thrusters to be installed, along with a portable control board and a generator of its own to power it all. Without that, pushing one into the other could send both spinning off in separate directions. There was also the chance of accidentally knocking the thing out of orbit, leaving them with connected parts spinning off into space. It was amazing how much about space came down to math. Luckily, they had a lot of people to work the problems now, not to mention Lucy and her seemingly limitless computing power. 

Salem kept a careful ear on the comm channels from the surface, ready to warn Nellie about any worrying signals, while Remy kept a scan lock on the surface to make sure they had a warning of any group from the colony heading for the Clutch or vice versa. 

Being able to leave all of that worry to her crew allowed Nellie to die into the design and repair work with both feet. Two days later, the delicate set of small adjustments and microseconds of thrust left the three sections nestled together and ready for bonding. This being the Bly, that work was taken care of by nanites produced in the massive nano forge in the ship's core. 

The final bonding would take about an hour for Nellie to complete, so she decided to take a moment to check in on Paren, who had been disturbingly quiet the last couple of days, having mailed the designs for the space-born turrets to Nellie with a couple of hours. 

Whatever level of engineering prodigy Paren had been before being infused with Nanites, she was on another level now. 

That kind of mind, plus the incredible power of nanites, when paired with the impulsive decision-making of a teenager, might explain why Nellie screamed as she walked into Paren’s lab to see the teenager preparing to sever her own legs in some kind of guillotine.

“Freeze!” Nellie snapped, the ship responding to her will and stopping the blade Paren had just released mere inches from severing the drone’s legs.

“Hey!” Paren snapped. “That’s cheating.”

“What the actual fuck, Paren!” Nellie lost her temper for the first time in so long she could barely remember it. “Ostie! Comment avez-vous pu faire cela! Enfant idiot! Putain!” She dragged the wide-eyed teen out of the contraption and held her off her feet, inches from her face. “You will not harm yourself!”

“Easy, Nellie,” Paren said, her breath ragged. “Please, I promise I have a good reason.”

Nellie put Paren down, feeling her muscles trembling with unreleased energy. 

“I wanted four legs,” Paren said. “I had already constrained blood flow and have a design ready to print the prosthetics.”

Nellie had never wanted to slap someone so much in her life, ice water flowing into her veins in the terror of what Paren had almost done. She forced herself to take several deep, calming breaths.

“Start again, from the beginning, and slowly this time,” Nellie told her. “I want your entire chain of reasoning, your planned prosthetic blueprints, and a full list of adapted exercises.”

“Wait, what?” Paren asked.

“You heard me,” Nellie sat down opposite the still wide-eyed teen. 

Paren had about half of what she asked for. The engineering parts were, naturally, perfectly worked out to the finest detail. She had thought of the obvious increased movement options and speed offered by the extra limbs, used the Clutch people as a basic design, and then improved them. 

That was it, the entire plan the teen had. At that point, she had uploaded the blueprints and prepared to sever her limbs.

Nellie had her head in her hands by the time Paren was done.

“Paren, listen to me,” Nellie said sternly. “You have no idea what effect an extra set of limbs would have. I see no plans for you to learn to walk with an extra set of legs, not to mention you didn’t include an extra set of hips, which would let you move the two sets properly.”

Paren opened her mouth to argue, only to shut up at the look she got. 

“If you want to do something, you need to do it properly,” Nellie insisted. “Nerves, so you can feel the legs, extra hips to allow freedom of movement, changes to the spine to account for the shifted center of gravity, all of that. More to the point, why would you ever do anything as stupid as cut your own legs off? You’re too smart for that.”

“To make room for the new ones?” Paren asked hesitantly.

“Pointless,” Nellie insisted. “You cut off two good legs and then attach four more?”

“You have a better idea?” Paren asked.

“For starters,” Nellie said. “If you ever even think of cutting yourself up again, I will, and I kid you not, take every bit of equipment you have access to and make you a fucking deck washer.”

Paren paled.

“Secondly,” Nellie went on, “You are nanite infused. Work with Lucy on a proper design, and when you are BOTH happy, get the nanites to convert the legs you already have.”

Paren looked down in shock at her own legs.

“Can we do that?” Paren asked.

“Lucy?” Nellie asked.

“Is it certainly possible,” Lucy replied through the intercom. “Nanites are more than capable of making any changes required to the body they are fused with.”

“Then it is settled,” Nellie stood up and walked to the door. “Paren?”

“Yes, Nellie?” Paren looked shaken.

“I shouldn’t have lost my temper; I’m sorry,” Nellie said, staring at the hatch in front of her. “The idea of anything hurting you just sets me off. Even you.”

“I’m sorry too,” Paren said. “I just thought you would say no if I asked.”

“If I would say no, it’s because there is a reason not to,” Nellie said, still staring at the hatch. “If there isn’t a good reason, I’ll at least hear you out, okay.”

“Okay,” Paren said.

“I, I need you to promise not to do anything like that again,” Nellie said.

“I promise,” Paren said quietly. 

“Thank you,” Nellie said, feeling tension leave her shoulders.

“Nellie?” Paren called, sounding tearful. 

“Yes?” Nellie asked.

“Can I have a hug?” Paren asked.

Nellie swept the teen into her arms, and they hugged each other for a long time before Nellie left.

===<<<>>>===

The station was slowly coming together. It was not a simple case of throwing nanites at the problem. Nanites could do almost anything if they had the time and resources, but they still needed that time and resources. The nanites could form any hallway, piece of equipment, and nearly anything you could think of if they had the materials and the plans, but someone still had to figure out where to build everything. Someone had to plan the space station from the ground up, and you couldn’t just make a stationary ship.

Stations require more than just a place to sleep, eat, and move around. Their station needed living quarters, gathering places, recreational areas, labs, production facilities, and public areas for visitors. 

The visitors needed their own places to stay, eat, sleep, and more. Then, you required emergency plans, evacuation paths, and escape pods.  

Places for ships to dock and take on or offload supplies. It was an almost unending nightmare of design and planning meetings that she was only able to sit through because, at the end of the day, it would be theirs. 

Lucy was also working with Paren on her plan to become a quadrupedal life form, which Nellie was still trying to get her head around. That meant that Nellie had to attend most of the meetings she would normally run instead. Her own crew also had notes and requests, and they seemed to never run out of ideas for things to add to the station. At this rate, it would be the size of the damn moon if even half those things were included.

The thought made her smile for a moment.

While planning and design were underway, the Centrum units were working away on the basics. They could work full-time on all three shifts and didn’t need anything like space suits to protect them, so they were the perfect building force. In less than a week, they had secured the three sections together and sealed them from the vacuum. The process of airing the first compartments began while the Centrums still walked along the outside of the section, moving large sheets of metal, carrying nanite cubes to where they were needed, and crates of materials for later use. The whole place was slowly coming together; at least the first section would be aired up and ready for occupation within the next two weeks.

Nellie just had to hope they had that kind of time.

There was no sign of the Last Chances yet, but it had to be out there somewhere, and sooner or later, it would head back here.

===<<<>>>===

Crush stretched as he got up. The mornings on the moon, which they called Hope’s Landing, were chilly, but it never really bothered him. 

A naturally early riser, he had long ago gotten used to the morning chill. Apparently, his body had not forgotten the skill, even with all the time he had spent in space. Compared to those last few months in the dark? 

It was like a damn spa. 

Pulling on his overalls quietly, Crush slipped out of their quarters and moved quietly down the hallway until he could swing open the compartment's hatch and step out onto the red soil of the moon.

Colonies were as varied as the planets they colonized, and Crush had seen a fair few of them during his time. 

This one was a complete mess, but it was a mess he was very comfortable in. he traded a few waves with the other early risers, shared a smile with those just heading off to bed, and stepped over the ones who had drunk themselves unconscious. Where the hell they had gotten this much booze from was beyond him, but luckily, it wasn’t his problem. Duke’s people policed the colonists, but no one really seemed to bother, at least yet.

Crime wasn’t really an issue just yet; everyone was working together to get the place up and running, but he could see its seeds wherever he looked. Just his morning walk showed a couple of people offering favors for supplies or even different kinds of favors. Then there were the illicit brewers, a couple who seemed to have brought an entire pharmacy with them, and so on. In a few weeks, the problems would start, but for now?

Everyone was too busy and needed their neighbors too much to stir things up too much.

That was the joy of the early days in a colony. The feeling of community.

If someone didn’t do something about the budding seeds, it could all go bad, but Crush trusted Brix to put a stop to it if Duke’s people failed.

Cara was sitting with her legs over the edge of the half-completed wall when he found her. They just sat and watched the start of the day together for a moment. Bil-Tor turned up next, and finally, ‘Andy,’ who had taken a nickname and run with it. 

“They head out again?” Crush asked when everyone was there.

“Yup,” Cara said idly.

“Armed?” Crush looked off into the distance.

“Nope,” Cara replied. 

“Thing they want trouble?” Crush asked.

“Oh, yes,” Cara laughed.

“Let’s go give it to them then,” Crush sighed, making Cara smile. 

In less than five minutes, the squad dropped off the wall, running over the grassy ground as they pursued the group of troublemakers. It was their third time doing this, and Crush seriously considered breaking a few bones this time to make a point. It would be bad enough if they were just colonists, but there were former resistance fighters. His people. 

It made his blood boil, and the rest of the squad agreed. 

Cara whistled and curved left toward a small area covered with large boulders and thick trees as she followed the obvious tracks left by their target.

He saw Cara stop ahead of him and broke left as Andy broke right. 

“It’s time we stopped this,” a large man said as more troublesome ex-resistance members appeared.

“Sure this is how you want to do this?” Crush asked as he looked at Cara and Andy. No point asking Bil-Tor; his answer was always yes. They both nodded, smiling slightly.

“You don’t get a choice,” the man snarled. “We are sick of you lot getting in the way.”

“Bloody idiots think they are special,” a woman sneered. She had a good reason to feel smug, as there were almost thirty of them here and only four of the former six-man squad.

“Don’t worry,” the big guy said with a smile. We’ll give you a beating, break a few bones, and then you can limp back.” He laughed.

“No,” Cara said nastily. “This isn’t that kind of fight.”

“What?” 

“You ambushed us,” Andy said with a lazy look on his face that Crush had come to know. “More than five to one, I notice,” He chuckled darkly. “This is the kind of fight you don’t walk away from.”

“The fuck do you mean?” A voice called from the throng. “We aren’t here to kill.”

“We’ll just take your word for that, eh?” Crush said with a sigh. “I’ll make this simple. You attack. We go for the kill.”

“Except for you,” Bil-Tor pointed at a small man near the back. “You, I just break the hands.”

“Just fair to let you know,” Cara said, her voice husky as she got into things, “If you come, come to kill. Because we will.”

Several of the ones around the edges turned to run, and Crush made a note of every one of them. A little visit was in order.

The squad knew what they were doing. This group? They were the bad apples. Soldiers were taught to fight and kill, and in any group like that, there were those who got a taste for it. Some enjoyed the killing; more enjoyed the power. Those types would never let go once the war was over. 

Every commander knew the truth, and those were the ones you sent on the missions no one was likely to come back from. It was better that way. This was the other option. 

The war ends, the bad apples go rotten, and then someone has to put them down. 

For precisely this reason, he had kept a member of the squad on the wall every night since he learned of the native population. It was too big a temptation for the bad apples to resist: an apparently weak population and more than enough people who would call them heroes for getting rid of them. The bad apples had been subtle at first, only a few going at a time, and each time, the Squad sent them packing. 

Their patience with being stopped had seemingly run out, hence the beatdown they planned to give Crush’s people. Assert their dominance.

Yeah, Crush didn’t play games.

All it took was a click of his tongue, and they all moved.

The fight wasn’t short, but it was brutal. People always misunderstand special forces training. Sure, it made each member a better fighter, eliminating hesitations and moments of not knowing what to do, but that wasn’t what really made them special.

Special came from the teamwork. The number of people in a team was not additive to their combat effectiveness; it was multiplicative. Each member of that team could handle any two or three of the attackers on their own, but together? 

Well, the bad apples should have brought more people. Three more ran the moment Cara’s first attack snapped a neck like a twig, her kick catching the man under the chin with such force it forced the neck back so hard and fast the spine just couldn’t take the stress.

By the time Crush had even thrown his first punch, the fight was over, and they just didn’t know it yet. The shock factor of the dead bodies of the first attackers to arrive at the squad made everyone hesitate just a little. Those hesitations? Those were why the fight was over. His people didn’t hesitate. They methodically dispatched every one of their attackers before Cara and Andy tore off after those who had tried to run, leaving Crush and Bil-Tor to handle the cleanup.

“Which way are those moss tree things?” Bil-Tor asked as he tossed one body over his shoulder and dragged a pair of others by their arms.

Crush sighed and grabbed a couple of bodies. 

This was going to take a while.