Chapter twenty one

In conclusion, space-born life and terrestrial life are similar, but different too. They face many of the same pressures, but they also face wildly different challenges. -Ending chapter from Space-born and Terrestrial life: Similarities and differences

Aurelois slammed his fist down on the table as he yelled at his assistant.

“What do you mean it won’t be finished? I specifically told them that it would need to be off the rails in six months max or we’d get a jam!” The assistant winced at the loud voice and replied shakily.

“I was told that one of their supply runs had been held up somewhere.”

“I don’t care that their illegal moonshine or whatnot was held up by border checks! Just give them what they need and tell them that if it isn’t finished in two months, I’ll personally de-rail them.”

As his assistant scampered off to pass on his message, Aurelois sighed. He was getting too old to be yelling at ignorant youngsters. He was at the ripe old age of 165, for heavens sake. He should be peacefully enjoying his retirement in some beachside resort on one of the colonies, not stuck in space, grumpy as ever.

He looked through the shipyard schedules. It was high tide, with no less than twenty ships docked at his yard. That was nothing to the giant shipyards in Sol, which could handle thousands of ships at once, but it was a lot for a small shipyard this far out.

As he was assigning mechanics to the newest ship in dock, the alarm rang.

“Warning, pirates inbound.” He straightened up. Finally, some action!

Aurelois sprang to his feet and ran for the command centre. It was a small one, with only a few seats to manage the correspondingly small number of defences. They were all good, though. he had used one of his contacts to get a set of old military gear. It was more than enough to deal with the occasional pirates.

As he arrived, he saw his security director running firing solutions with his LAI. He didn’t have the money to get a SAI, and no full AI was willing to work with him in the middle of nowhere. Too boring, they said. Still, it was an honest job. He had even built up a reputation for being good and reliable.

“Firing solutions complete. Likelihood of complete victory with no losses: 98%”

“Why so low?” he asked.

“The Biter is still being towed. There is a small chance that the enemy might hit the lowered shields.”

“Nothing critical then. That should be fine. Fire when ready.”

“Yes sir.” Plasma-sheathed shells travelling at 1/40 of C rocketed out of gun barrels and sprang towards their targets, punching holes clean through the pirate ships in sprays of plasma and light.

“All pirate ships destroyed. No damage incurred.”

“Excellent. Pick up survivors and put them on the next supply convoy.”

As Aurelois walked back to his office, he sighed as he thought of all the paperwork he needed to write. Just another day in the life of a shipyard owner.