Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Unfortunately I can't keep you on as head of ONI, but for the moment you are doing well as an acting Intel officer.”

  “Thank you, sir. I have found I like being in Intel. I don't care for the prison camps,” she shook her head. “But putting the pieces of the puzzle together is fun. And playing the mind games is also challenging.” She grinned. “You have no idea what kind of Intel I can get out of someone if they see me eating a proper steak. Give them a couple weeks on the slop and they start dropping all sorts of stuff to get real food,” she said with a grin.

  The admiral snorted. The prison camps were situated on a single island off the coast, in fact it was one of the islands deeded over to the navy. The facilities were crude but improving with prison labor. There had been a few suicides, one murder, but no escapes due to the predator infested water around the island. Eventually he'd do something to improve the camp, if only for the guard’s health and benefit. The pirates could rot, he thought. Though dangling nicer facilities and food to get Intel out of them might be useful.

  “Good,” the admiral said. “You've been doing so well, I've decided to let Lieutenant Defender off the hook. He has been my acting G-2. He has you by date of rank but he is more security oriented than Intel. He is also rather partial to my hide, so where I go, he goes. So he can't oversee the day to day ONI operations in Antigua. So, you are acting G-2.”

  “Understood, sir,” the lieutenant said. “I know I'm young, inexperienced, and too low in rank to keep the job long, sir.”

  “You'd be surprised. A lot of persons like yourself have had to learn on the job. As I said, you've done well.” The admiral shrugged when she blushed. “For now, you've got it until someone better comes along, Lieutenant.”

  “I'll try not to let you down, sir.”

  “See that you don't,” he said, eying her sternly. He knew that was a forlorn hope but had to put that warning in there. “A lot more than a career or two could be riding on if you are wrong.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, what do you have for me?”

  “Sir, several things. One, I understand Ensign Fletcher has been assigned to ONI, I am glad to have him on board. But can I have Sergeant Race Bannon as well, sir?” The admiral snorted. “He's good, sir, damn good even if he's a marine.” The admiral nodded.

  “I'll consider it carefully,” he said. She nodded.

  “Two, the Prinz Zir. I was concerned about that. If the enemy comes in with their own spy ship, or worse picks up a civilian ship that has passed through here, it could be disastrous.”

  “You are talking about counter intelligence,” the admiral said. She nodded. “Good. I'm glad you are thinking that way. The answer is, we're going to have to be very careful about what we release into the media, and what we let shipping see.”

  “Understood.”

  “And I know the first impulse is to pounce on those ships. Believe me, I know. The other impulse from a more ... seasoned spook is to leave them alone.”

  She blinked in confusion.

  He smiled thinly. “If you leave a conduit you know about alone, tap it, trace its links but do nothing, the enemy is less interested in setting up backups. You can even occasionally use it to feed them false information.”

  She nodded, catching on. “I see, sir.”

  “It can expose their spies, and their coding. A lot. But it is a double edged sword. You are giving away information, and that is dangerous.”

  “I agree, sir.”

  “I don't like it. I'm not sure which way to jump here, my first impulse is to board any and every ship.”

  “Is that why the navy has that free checkup in Pyrax, sir? I know we were getting a lot of Intel from their computers about who was where but ...”

  The admiral nodded. “Yes. If we know where they have been and can see what they are looking at, we can decide if they need to be ... handled differently.”

  She smiled slightly.

  “Right. You're other problem?”

  “Well, I mentioned I'll need more staff when I brought up Sergeant Bannon I believe. I understand everyone is crying for help right now so I understand I'll be short,” she said making a face. He nodded. “My other concern was the defenses.”

  “A bit out of your area, Lieutenant?”

  “Well sir, I believe you aren't going on the offensive because you believe the defenses will be similar or worse in Horath? And you don't want to go in with what little Intel we currently have correct?”

  “Correct. And the logistic lines are too long right now,” the admiral admitted. “Even with the fleet train, we'd be bogged down in a slugging match, system to system. Unless we bypassed them and went straight for their heart.”

  “Yes sir. We know they have two yards in Horath. But we don't know if they have other yards. We also don't know about the defenses in each system between here and there.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So, I realized you were very interested in selkies and other stellar navigators for a reason. To get around those defenses. You've mentioned repeatedly that a ship doesn't have to jump into a jump point.”

  The admiral stilled and then slowly nodded.

  “So, we know where a few are, on Epsilon Triangula and Agnosta. Antigua doesn't have any that we know of. No selkies, dolphins or other species. Hidoshi's World has a few, or had. We don't know if there are any more remaining. They may have fled out to sea when the colonies were wiped out. Or been out to sea fishing when the genocide occurred.”

  “True. Where are you going with this?”

  “I was going to attribute your interest in saving the Ssilli to that, but it is too cynical. You are interested in restoring their species,” Lake mused. The admiral nodded. “But something occurred to me. The enemy knows you are digging in by now. They may have, they must have gotten some Intel on Pyrax by now,” she said.

  He grimaced and then nodded again. “True. We can't take for granted that they hadn't. We didn't see much Intel in Maine's flag computers, they were trashed.”

  “Well sir, if you want selkies to get in around defenses, could the enemy want the same thing? To get around our defenses?” the lieutenant asked in earnest.

  The admiral froze again.

  “Could that be why they are on that scavenger hunt, Admiral?” Sprite asked. He grunted.

  “It could be. It could be something else entirely, or many things. But that is a very troubling thought, Lieutenant,” the admiral said, turning his eyes on her.

  She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “And ET is very exposed. We also know a fleet passed through Centennial, Admiral,” Sprite said.

  “Yes. Damn it.” He paused, took a deep breath, then shook his head as he thought of something ugly. Something he didn't like.

  “We can't ride to the rescue,” the admiral said, closing his eyes. “I can't risk exposing Antigua or Pyrax. We can't send in a small force, they may not be sufficient and they might get chewed up and lose.”

  “So we leave them to die on the vine?”

  “No,” he said shaking his head. “We'll send in a recon. Eventually,” he said wincing internally. “And pray you are wrong, Lieutenant,” the admiral said, looking at Lake. She nodded grimly.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  April scowled when she noted the time. Her glass of wine was half finished, her silk robe was comfortably loose and ready to fall off in a moment's notice. The walls of her apartment were set up to display a night's skyline. She had a simulated fire roaring in a simulated fireplace.

  It was Friday, the start of the weekend and she was home alone in her apartment ... again. She toyed with the glass again staring into the fire. She shook her head in exasperation. “Where the hell is he?” she demanded softly. She finally decided to put in a call. When John didn't answer she put in a rather annoyed call to Sprite. “That damn AI better not be screening my calls again or there'll be hell to pay,” she growled.

  ...*...*...
*...*...

  “Admiral, Miss O'Neill has been calling you,” Sprite said carefully.

  “I know. And no, I haven't been avoiding her. Are you peeking in my inbox?” He asked.

  “No, I'm not,” she said indignantly. She shrugged at his expression. “She called me,” Sprite admitted.

  “Oh. So now she's calling you?”

  “I told her you are busy. Which you are,” she said, indicating the factory ship around them. He looked around then nodded. “But she found out you've been moonlighting at the university instead of visiting her and she's ... put out over it.”

  He grunted. He was on the fence about April. She obviously wasn't threatening him, well, other than as a distraction. She was naturally curious ... or was there something more there? He wasn't certain. Sprite's Intel she'd dug up was damning; he should break the relationship off. But he wanted to know more. He most importantly wanted to know why.

  “Tell her ... you know what, I'll call her in a moment,” he said as he uploaded the keys to build the corvette hyperdrive manifolds. “As soon as I'm done this,” he said.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Sprite noted the admiral was finishing up his current project. She ran a quick sim. The odds were not in her favor but she had to broach the subject anyway. “Admiral, about Lieutenant Turner ...”

  “What about him?” the admiral asked mildly. “Oh, you are finally going to take the bull by the horns and try to get me to agree to take him on as my flag Lieutenant?” he asked.

  “You figured that out,” Sprite said in dismay.

  The admiral snorted. “It was obvious after a little while. I was curious about how far you were willing to push it. Amusing, but the answer is no. He's a good officer. I like him. But he is fine where he is in OPS. He's a good manager and we need good managers there badly.”

  “Have you forgotten your promise to put him in a gunship already, Admiral?”

  “He's fine where he is,” the admiral said doggedly. He had considered moving the lieutenant to open of his still open staff positions but they needed to keep the yard in full swing. With Vargess busy and off on Fuentes across the solar system that left the managing of Ops in Turner's hands. “Woods on the other hand ...” he sighed. Woods was a plodder. He was also a career man, one very much aware that if he stuck his neck out too far and something happened it could end his career. Constant pruning back by Sindri wasn't helping the situation.

  “Ready to relieve him?”

  “No. We need everyone we've got. That's a problem. I swear Horatio banished him here because he didn't want to put up with the man. Or Able.”

  They are a pair aren't they? You could put them in the inspector's office,” Sprite suggested. The admiral snorted. “No, seriously. We need conscientious and thorough officers to go over each ship as it comes off the line with a fine tooth comb right? Who better?”

  “You know how much foot dragging they'd do? To cover their ass? We need these ships yesterday,” the admiral said.

  “And they aren't likely to sign off on anything because they are afraid it'll come back on them so they are thorough,” Sprite mused, ignoring his reply. “We give them a deadline. And a schedule. They know they have to stick to it or else.”

  “Have they done that before?” Irons asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh. Good point,” Sprite said in a small voice.

  The admiral sighed. “Who is in charge of that now?”

  “Ensign Nguyen and a pair of rather overworked noncoms with a staff of four,” Sprite replied, flashing faces and names on his HUD.

  “That's it?”

  “For now that is all we've needed. But the ensign is green. He's also scared to death he'll sign off on something and it'll blow up.”

  “Which makes my argument against Woods and Able doesn't it?” The admiral asked.

  “Please don't rub it in, Admiral,” Sprite sighed. “I see your point.”

  “Nguyen needs seasoning?”

  “A lot. He's good though. He's not shirking the duty. He has signed off on a few things too easily though. Taken a few things for granted.”

  “You've been watching him?”

  “No, Lieutenant Turner gave me a heads up. Nguyen isn't a coaster, he knows we need the ships fast. He's willing to take risks.”

  “Understood,” the admiral said. “See if we can tap Able for the duty. Can Nguyen replace her?”

  “I think so. He has a good engineering foundation. He's a bit young to throw rank around though. That is why Sindri stuck him where he is. Another problem for him. He got talked out of a couple minor problems and didn't write them up.”

  “I'm not sure about his judgment now, Commander,” Irons said.

  “Would you like to test him out on Collier 4 first?”

  “Point. He'll make less of a mess there?”

  “Or be able to prove himself sir,” Sprite said.

  “Check the roster on Collier 4 first. I don't think he can be bumped and he can't be the chief if someone out ranks him,” Irons said.

  “I ...” Sprite pulled the file and then swore. The admiral shot her image a puckish grin. “Damn it,” she muttered.

  “See what happens when you get too cute and go off half-cocked? I'm surprised you didn't do your homework more thoroughly,” he said.

  “I think I need more downtime,” Sprite muttered. “Okay, so that won't work,” she sighed. “Next idea ...”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  After his morning coffee the admiral picked up his tablet to scan the morning news. He could just download the feed but he found reading it on a tablet helped reduce headaches. He did enough jacking in, besides he needed the break. “Anything I should be aware of?” he asked.

  “Well, there is something,” Sprite said. “I found you a candidate for G-3 schools. The fun thing is going to be convincing her to take the job. She prefers to teach.”

  “She.”

  “She. She has been in your class and is a bit if a fan,” Sprite said mischievously. He snorted. “Sergeant Sn'll convinced her to look into exploring her options further. She's in her 40's, smart, and dedicated.”

  “And does she have a name?” the admiral asked. He knew Sergeant Sn'll was the Veraxin ROTC trainer and recruiter on Antigua Prime's campus. That meant the woman was on the station most likely.

  “She does,” the AI replied.

  “You mind not playing this game? It's like pulling teeth with you,” the admiral said in exasperation as he set the tablet down.

  “Sorry,” Sprite said as she caught his swift mood change. “Olivia Raynor,” Sprite said, putting the woman's dossier up on his HUD. A woman with a long face but lively eyes was suddenly in his vision.

  He scanned the report quickly. She was a college professor, history department. She had gotten her degree at a young age and had helped resurrect some technologies on the planet, making a name for herself in some circles.

  The woman was a descendant of a fleet college professor and had taught rich students as a tutor for some time before being picked up by the capital college. Antigua Prime had hired her away to run their history department two years ago. The lure of exploring the station and learning its history had intrigued the woman.

  The professor had an extensive library of historical material that her family had preserved for the future. “She passed the fleet recruiting tests with flying colors in most of the fields, Admiral. She's a bit behind in tactical and of course piloting, but that is not where we need her anyway,” Sprite said.

  The admiral grunted as he took a sip of coffee. He scanned the woman's test results. She was good, she'd passed the theory mainly by her outstanding records in history. No surprise there he thought.

  “I take it from the test she's signed off on joining up. You didn't tell her where?”

  “She wants to be a reservist so she can continue teaching. She also doesn't want advanced rank having argued that she hasn't earned it yet. I disagree on th
e point since she is a tenured college professor, but she was adamant so I agreed to that. We can always promote her later. I have her contract here if you wish to read it,” Sprite offered.

  “Spare me the boilerplate,” the admiral replied with a raised hand. He took another sip of coffee. “Can you get her set up in schools?”

  “She works in the administration of the college so she has plenty of experience. Setting her on the sergeant should be a good experience, from what I understand she has made comments about losing some weight. She has helped out with ROTC training, tutoring some of the students. She is very interested in implants and has waved the sign up bonus.”

  “She'll need training anyway,” the admiral sighed. Sprite nodded. “Okay, sign her up. Get an officer over to her to have her take the oath, then get her started on implants and medical.”

  “I have made the appointments now,” Sprite said in approval. “I believe she is a good choice admiral. She will go a long way to set up the seed of the new fleet academy and training center. Though tearing her away from Prime might be tricky.”

  “She'll go where she is ordered to go,” the admiral said. “But there is no hurry now.”

  “She's still poking around Antigua Prime. She's finished interviewing all the 'ghosts' for her latest monograph. I think she wants a stab at you and I know she's been pestering Lieutenant Fuentes for an interview,” Sprite said in amusement. “And me for that matter,” she admitted.

  The admiral snorted.

  “Are you still considering beaching Major Gustov?” Sprite asked.

  “He's good where he is, but we need more. We're cycling marine recruits through Agnosta, but he needs to take the big picture and the long view since he is ranking marine officer in the system,” the admiral said.

  “With the bridge crew organized as it currently is that would leave a jig in charge of Maine,” Sprite reminded him. "A marine can't command a navy ship."

  “Which is fine,” the admiral said. “She's not going anywhere anytime soon,” he said. Sprite nodded. “Cut the orders.”