Free Mech 3: The Empress by B. V. Larson Page B

systems repairs. Can you effect these adjustments for us?”
    Garth considered. He’d lost his work cart and most of his tools, but he had been trained in basic maintenance. Further, he was certain a toolkit would be stashed somewhere in the large VIP suites.
    “I can perform such duties, and I will do so willingly.”
    “Very well, you may stay among us until such a time as we deem your presence unwarranted.”
    Garth accepted this statement without comment. Privately, he calculated the odds that the skalds would be able to eject him from this place without injury to themselves were extremely low.
     
    #
     
    Garth found there were more than a few failing systems in the suites where the skalds had taken refuge. The first such system he worked on was the security network feed. There were a fair number of monitors recessed in the walls of the various saloons and lounges, but none of them could connect to the outside world of the larger ship. He spent a full day working on the security network before he managed to get it working. In the end, it turned out to be a simple burned-out coupling. This was a relief, as he’d half-expected to find an enemy shrade in the works, chewing on the cables or infecting their subsystems with viruses.
    When he managed to tap into the outside feed, he looked at the screens with interest. He flicked from one input camera to the next, but things looked pretty dull out there. Every corridor was empty. Every auxiliary hold was quiet and tranquil.
    Garth thought of the bridge, but the cameras there didn’t operate. He licked his lips again. Nervousness had returned. After a day of hard work, he felt a familiar tickle of fear. He checked the cameras in the main hold, and saw nothing. This proved little, as the hold was miles long and held such a vast array of goods it was hard to say what was happening inside. One might as well look at a forest while cruising above it on a skimmer and declare it lifeless.
    After a moment of hesitation, he switched channels and directed the monitors to feed him the vid from the lifepods. In all honesty, he’d expected to get nothing but static air, as he had when viewing the bridge. What he found instead was exhilarating.
    The crewmen were there. Dozens of them. Security people in red, maintenance in green, flight crew in royal blue. Among them were others—they could only be passengers who’d been awakened. All in all, it was a veritable army. They were well-armed, too. They carried everything from beam weapons to fire axes. No one seemed unarmed.
    Garth took on a predatory—almost prideful—expression. Here were his people, marching on the enemy. They’d followed up on his warning. They’d gathered their strength, and even now they were moving in for the kill. They’d repelled these invaders once before, and although the infection had returned, they were more than ready and capable of vanquishing it again. They had done so on Garm, Neu Schweitz and this very ship in the past.
    Garth reached up and switched the feed to broadcast. Every monitor in the skald suites blazed into life in response, and began relaying the vids as he watched them. Let these cowardly Tulk know what humans were capable of! Activating the loudspeaker, he keyed open the microphone and spoke into it, his breath gusting loudly in the speakers as he made an announcement.
    “I am Garth, a former skald. I have repaired your video feed from the ship. I’ve discovered something interesting while testing the system. A battle is about to be joined.”
    He sat back, crossed his arms and smiled at the screen. It was time to enjoy the show.
    The crewmen advanced to the pods of lifeboats, creeping quietly. Garth recognized the Captain among them. They paused at the bulkheads, massing up for the final assault. A number of them carried flamethrowers. These were signaled forward. The nozzles of their weapons dribbled molten orange plasmas.
    A signal was given—Garth could not hear it, as the sound