Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

The admiral shook his head firmly no. “No. I have the distinct feeling that is what whoever is doing this wants. I can't take a person like this back to the fleet even if they let us.”

  “Great. Back to being targets,” Sprite grumbled.

  “Some more than others. They are hitting us, not you AI.”

  “Yeah, but without fuel we're dead too when the lights go out,” Sprite said.

  “Then we had better figure it out. And soon. Did you get anything on your independent investigation?”

  “Well, the Xavier's crew were all on the ship or out of the area. That eliminates them as suspects since Lieutenant Wong stated he saw an individual.”

  “So a sleeper did this?”

  “It isn't without precedence, Admiral. They had to listen to the galaxy burn and then wake to ... us. Someone could have gone unhinged in that time period before they went into stasis and hid it. Or had been pathological prior and just did a good job of hiding it. The watchdog program is far from perfect,” she reminded him.

  “Yes, tell me about it,” the admiral grumbled.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Mrs. Garrett frowned as a Marine hustled her off to the waiting shuttle. “But the admiral is staying,” she said.

  “His orders are firm, ma'am. He wants all nonessential personnel off the facility. That includes you ma'am,” the Marine said. “Can we move it along?” he asked plaintively.

  “Oh very well,” Mrs. Garrett said in a huff. “But he is going to get a piece of my mind over this later. Mark my words,” she warned.

  “I'd love to be a fly on the wall and hear it ma'am,” the Marine said with an amused snort as he helped her up the boarding ramp.

  “Wait, you're not going?”

  “I'm staying here ma'am. We have a killer to catch,” the Marine said, nodding to her. “That's the last of them sir,” he said, turning away as the copilot took charge of the irate steward.

  “Good,” Captain Lyon stated. They had evacuated all of the people who were not on the suspect list or not considered essential personnel. “And everyone is in lock down in their quarters. Think this will work?”

  “I don't know sir. I don't know the plan,” the Marine answered.

  “Good. Neither do I. Let's keep our fingers crossed anyway,” Lyon stated.

  “Aye aye, sir,” the Marine said, clearly confused. He shook his head.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Mrs. Garrett and the others are clear of the facility admiral. They are boarding Xavier now,” Sprite reported. “Cookie went practically kicking and screaming as expected.”

  The admiral winced. “Good.”

  “Admiral ... I know you don't like the idea, but shouldn't we sweat people again? Or take more sterner measures?”

  “What are you asking, Commander, that we torture someone?”

  “No. What I'm asking is if we should use the tools you have. The same ones you used on Miss O'Neill,” she said suggestively.

  The admiral frowned. He didn't like the idea. “I've already slipped on that slope once, Commander. I'm not sure I am ready to go down that again. And not with so many people involved.”

  “Then how about a watchdog check up? A full security review?”

  “By all the suspects?”

  “Yes.”

  The admiral nodded. “Get with Xavier's security people and Marine detachment. Set it up.”

  “Not Howell?”

  “Keep him out of the loop for now,” the admiral stated.

  “My pleasure, sir,” Sprite replied smugly.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The watcher determined it needed to draw them to a patsy to get them to drop the investigation and leave. It found one and set up the evidence carefully. Its puppets would offer evidence to support the host when it presented its findings. The Watcher calculated that its plan would work even better though if the Irons organic's own AI came to find the traitor on its own. The Irons organic would trust it. A little judicial adjustment of the patsy's implants and a little subliminal conditioning and he would play his part. If he ran it would be an admission of guilt.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Commodore Subert followed in Admiral Irons and Amadeus's footsteps and took on a class in Pyrax as a guest lecturer. It was voice only, the bandwidth for the ansible was too low, but he could still get his points across. He was surprised by the lack of comments and how quiet the class was though. At first he thought it was the system filtering out extraneous noise until the regular professor informed him that the class was in awe of him.

  “Harrumph, I don't see what's such a big deal,” he said.

  “Sir, you are a sleeper. You have a vast amount of experience, you served with Captain Logan, Commodore White and Admiral Irons. Trust me, sir, it's a big thing. For them and me. A very big honor, sir.”

  “It is part of the process. Passing down what nuggets of wisdom we've learned, either from our predecessors or what we've learned the hard way,” Phil said, now distinctly uncomfortable.

  “Thank you, sir.” He heard the class erupt into cheers. He felt his own cheeks heat. It felt good to hear that sound again.

  When the class ended he exited the ansible communication's room and went up the corridor to check in on OPS. Something pinged on his HUD though, a warning. He felt something hit him in the back and arm, then he hit his head on the hatch combing. He spun, trying to get away and heard a scuffle, then felt something hit him in the side of his neck. He reached up and tried to clamp a hand over the bleeding but blacked out as his implants tried to deal with the damage.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “The medics say Commodore Subert is stable,” Sprite reported. “You already know about Commander Howell sir,” she said, indicating the commander seated behind the admiral.

  Irons turned to nod to him. “Good work, Commander. Sorry you got hit,” he said, noting the shot to the commander's right bicep and thigh. Both were flesh wounds however, his implants and a judicious shot of biofoam had them under control.

  Irons studied him for a long moment. The man had a powerful implant suite, almost as good as his own he judged. There was an ECM layer there keeping his probing sensors from getting too deep.

  “It's a part of the job, sir,” the commander said, looking back at him. “I'll be fine in a bit. I just wish I had seen who was shooting at us. They must have used a rivet gun or something.”

  “An improvised weapon? That fits. All weapons are accounted for,” Captain Lyon reported over the radio.

  “We'll have the medics check you out as soon as they evac the commodore,” the admiral said. Phil was in bad shape, the weapon had been some sort of improvised gun that had sent a large round tumbling. It had hit his neck and had ripped part of his trachea and severed one of his carotid arteries. Only the fast response of the medics and the man's implants had kept him alive. The rest of the damage like his collapsed lung, broken ribs, broken arm, and other injuries seemed minor compared to that.

  “Lock everyone down,” the admiral ordered grimly, turning back to OPS at large. “I want a face count on everyone. I want everyone to stay within visual range of at least one or two other people at all times until I say otherwise,” the admiral said.

  “Lock down in progress, Admiral,” Winston said. “I couldn't see anything. I saw Commander Howell and Commodore Subert go down but not how. This is very frustrating. I hate not knowing.”

  “Defender, Barlow, Sprite, I want a full check on the suspects locations. A full role call as well. I want a hard check now,” the admiral ordered, stabbing a finger into the tabletop. “Not a plot or cursory check. Have at least two people verify them,” he snarled. “Organics as well as mechs,” he added.

  “Working on it now sir,” Ensign Barlow stated. “I've eliminated two suspects already. Both are on a shuttle right now sir.”

  “And you verified that?”

  “Yes sir. The copilot is looking at them now. I can see through his eyes.”

  “Good.”


  “Admiral, discrepancies in logs have cropped up. We have a prime suspect. He has not appeared for roll call and is currently off the grid,” Defender reported after a moment.

  “Who?”

  “An E-7 electronics tech. Chief Petty Officer Sinjin Pult,” Defender reported, putting an image of the middle aged male up on the main view screen. His 3D image spun slowly while his stats scrolled on his left side. The occasional tick mark appeared to identify marks or traits he had.

  “The suspect has the skills, sir,” Winston stated. “He also has a history with Admiral Halsey. According to their records they have worked together twice before. CPO Pult was in the Mars yard and had been frocked to an E-9 position when Admiral Halsey tapped him to go to Lemnos.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes sir. Instead of getting a promotion as anticipated he lost his position and extra rank,” Captain Egon stated. “I remember this incident. He was unhappy about the situation and groused about it a bit. I wasn't involved however, he wasn't working on any of my projects,” he stated.

  “I remember,” Commander Howell said from his seat. The admiral turned to him. “He was written up for insubordination twice and faced a mast over both. He was, as the admiral said, slipping down the ladder rung by rung. I had a couple run-ins with the man, he has an attitude problem and an occasional beef with authority,” he stated.

  “Then why is he here at all?”

  “He's damn good at his job, sir,” Commander Ray stated. “He is a tech wizard. One of the best organics for micro electronics and trouble shooting. He can take a design and build it, trouble shoot it, and offer improvement ideas.”

  “And he's a tech?” Sprite asked carefully.

  “He liked to keep his hands dirty and didn't want to become a commissioned officer. Too much paperwork,” Ray stated. He replayed a piece of conversation he had overheard in the past. “He seemed to have cleaned up his act after a chat with Chief Quigon.”

  “Get the chief on the horn,” the admiral ordered. “Let's see what he has to say,” he said.

  “Sir?” the chief asked weakly. His image came up on the main view screen. He looked like hell but at least he was alive and conscious. He was sitting up in a bed, tubes ran to his body. He pulled the face mask off.

  “Out of stasis, chief?” the admiral asked. He nodded to the gorilla. “Good. We've got a suspect. Do you remember CPU Pult?”

  “Him sir?” the chief coughed weakly. “I remember him. I had a counseling session with him after he went sour. I take it nothing worked?” He tried to move his hand but a nurse came into view and pushed it back down firmly. She stayed at his side and studied his readouts.

  “We're finding that out. He's now our prime suspect. He's AWOL,” Winston stated. “We still haven't found him, sir.”

  “Sir, if you are finished with the chief he needs to rest,” Nurse Amanda said.

  “Thank you, Chief,” Sprite said, cutting the link.

  “He could have hated the chief too. That might explain why he was injured,” Winston stated.

  “It is possible.”

  “And Spaceman Lexi?”

  “Word around the barracks was he was dating a tech and she dumped him for Lexi,” Winston stated.

  “A lover scorned,” Captain Lyon said, shaking his head. “People do stupid things for love.”

  “We have motive admiral. As an electronics tech he has the skills to pull these attacks off,” Winston stated.

  “I think we can build a case Admiral,” Sprite said.

  “Then find him,” the admiral ordered. “Alive if possible. I want answers.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Captain Lyon grimly led the marines on a deck by deck, compartment by compartment search of the facility. They locked down the mechs and airlocks and then swept the base one room at a time, locking them down behind them.

  Sprite, Barlow, and Defender directed drones to patrol the areas the marines had locked down to make certain the suspect didn't get behind them. Tech cornered, committed suicide. This was Defender's show, Winston was out of it since he was considered compromised. Winston still stuck around as an observer however. Defender wanted to make up for his lapse in trust with the admiral. In order to narrow down where the suspect might be, or to drive him to where they wanted him to go. The AI directed they cut power to rooms, which included life support. He would have a couple hours of life support before the power failed completely.

  The tech was found swearing as he tore into a junction in the dark. “What the frack is going on? I swear I can't wait to get off this ...” he looked up to see the marines there. “Um ...” His eyes were wide at the fully armored no nonsense marines pointing their weapons at him. He could see the lasers flickering along with the spotlights blinding him.

  “We've got him!” a marine said triumphantly.

  “Look guys, I don't know what's going on,” the tech said, rising to his feet. He refused to raise his hands even though prudence and instinct told him to do so. “This ain't funny fellas.”

  “Down! Down on your face!” a marine snarled. “Drop the weapon!”

  “This?” the tech looked down at the tool in his hand. “It's a drill you idiot ...” he said, bringing it up and around the panel to show them. He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as weapons fire erupted from the marines. His body jerked like a marionette then went down in a shower of gore.

  “Marine team Baker, suspect down. Suspect terminated,” a Marine said coldly over the net.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Once the tech was down the admiral met with the security staff and Captain Lyon to discuss the situation. There was immediate speculate on how he had managed to pull off the attacks under their nose.

  Commander Howell limped to the tech's locker and did a check. He pulled out a panel in the bottom of the locker and found a stash of electronic equipment there as well as some illicit drugs.

  The admiral paused the video of the commander's search and looked at the security chief. The chief looked chagrined.

  “Damn. Well, that's more egg on my face,” Howell muttered, shaking his head. “How the hell did he get contraband on the station? Sorry, sir but ... damn.”

  “I have found files on the net too. And on the flash drives recovered in the suspect's stash,” Defender reported.

  “So we have enough to say conclusively he was the one?”

  “The one and only is my question. Did he act alone?” Captain Lyon asked. “The weapon he used to shoot Commodore Subert and Commander Howell is still missing.”

  “He probably ditched it somewhere. An air duct, anywhere,” Defender stated. “We'll have the cleaning mechs keep looking for it.”

  “Well, we haven't had any more accidents or deaths in the past forty eight hours. I think that is telling us something right there,” Winston stated firmly.

  There was a soft sigh of relief from the organics in the room. Each of them considered the hunt over and the case closed. Or at least their participation in it. It was now up to security to back track what had happened and why.

  “The crates were easy, he just pulled out a stop and then tipped them over. That was a crime of opportunity.”

  “A criminal returning to the scene of the crime?”

  “To check for something he overlooked or to gloat. It has been known to happen.”

  “Or he could have been following Chief Quigon. He saw the opportunity like you said and took it.”

  “An electronics tech could reprogram an automated forklift. I mean, a donk isn't that sophisticated. Or addle the hardware without even touching the coding.”

  “We didn't see any trace of malicious coding,” Winston stated. “The diagnostics came up with a lot of errors. And he was the technician who checked the hardware.”

  “The perfect person to cover his own tracks,” Sprite stated.

  “How did he get around the security systems? And the AI? Why didn't they see some
thing before now?” Captain Lyon asked.

  “We received a report that a hard wired local override that prevents AI from seeing someone has been inserted in some of our hardware,” Sprite stated. “It is only speculation now, but we can check the hardware to be sure. The software as well.”

  “You are saying he set up some system that turned the cameras off when he didn't want to be seen?” the Marine asked carefully.

  “Not so much off as puts them onto a loop or an override that doesn't record him specifically. Or allows him to look like he is in one place when he is somewhere else.”

  “And don't forget, not all the cameras are on,” Winston stated. “Our coverage is spotty and limited to areas with power. If he had went into an area that had no cameras then activated the device and came out we would never have seen him.”

  “I see. Or, don't see,” the captain said shaking his head.

  “I'd like to compare any hardware we find to fleet Intel's report from Destiny's investigation of her security systems,” Sprite stated. “It could tie him to one of the assassin guilds,” she stated.

  “A pro?” Commander Howell asked. “That would explain a lot. A rogue though would have made more mistakes earlier on. He definitely had no trouble killing. That tells me he's done this before.”

  “Most of this was premeditated. It took a lot of thought for some of his attacks to work,” Sprite said. “I agree, there was no hesitation so he had to have had experience,” Sprite said. Commander Howell nodded wryly.

  “Guess he didn't get the memo about protecting you and the navy?” Sprite asked, turning to the admiral.

  “Cute, Commander.”

  “So what now, sir?”

  “Check the hardware. Finish your report. I've got a few things to do before we shut down the facility.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The patsy had gone down as planned. The Watcher and host would remain passive, falling back on their primary role to observe and record to allow the enemy to let down their guard. With patience they should take them to where they wish to go.