Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer)

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Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 52

by Hechtl, Chris


  “You and I know perfectly well she's stalling for the admiral. I've let it go along this long. But if he doesn't start getting results then it's time to fish or cut bait as my grand pappy used to say.”

  “I'll let them both know sir,” Warner said with a nod.

  “You do that,” the captain said with an answering nod as he got out of his chair. Warner rose as well. The captain tugged on his uniform jacket and then nodded to him. “You have the bridge Mr. Warner. I'm going to dinner.”

  “Aye aye sir,” Warner said, hands behind his back. He watched the captain exit and then turned to the communications station. “M'runi get the chief. I want a sitrep. Then put a call in to the admiral. Same deal. I need to talk to both when they are free too.”

  “Roger,” the Veraxin said with a head bob.

  “What the hell happened?” Matt asked, picking himself up off the deck. Something had kicked the gravity fields, throwing them and the contents of the containers they had been hauling to the shuttle around like a billiard ball. Ronni groaned, rubbing his head. He had one hell of a welt there, a nice goose egg from a piece that had smacked him. Probably a concussion.

  “Someone want to tell me what the hell just happened?” he demanded over the radio.

  “We're still trying to figure it out on our end,” a tech replied. “Short answer is a cyber war. We think it's over now.”

  “Dare I ask who won?” Matt asked, motioning to G'runi to help the human up. The Veraxin floated over to his fallen comrade and braced himself. He gripped a bulkhead combing with a pincer and then caught the drifting lad before he hit anything else.

  “I think... we did. I'm not sure though,” the tech said.

  “Great,” Matt said. He swore softly, looking around and then ducking as a piece of debris floated past his head. “Well, when you know let us know. We've got one hell of a mess to clean up. Tell anyone in the area to avoid this section of corridor for the time being,” he said.

  “Roger,” the tech acknowledged with a click.

  “Now,” Matt said turning and catching a floating crate. “Let's get this sorted out. G'runi how is he?” he asked.

  “Alive. I don't know soft skin medicine though,” the Veraxin said.

  “Get him to the medic. The rest of us will sort this mess out,” he said, starting to pick debris out of the air. Suddenly the lights went off. “FRACK!” He snarled. “What the hell else can go wrong??”

  “Dunno. But I think I don't want to stick around to find out,” G'runi said.

  Sprite tried to deal with the damage, staring at it dumbly. She felt dirty and violated. She curled around herself, helpless to stop the feelings running through her core. She's not happy. She's only partially aware of the outside. Mostly she ignored it. She knew she should but for the first time she ignored duty. She set up a shadow copy to deal with externals and then retreated into herself, into her shaken core.

  Proteus is right; it's not what Draco did that was damaging. It was that bastard Defender. The dumb paranoid bastard. He'd hurt her, in ways she'd never really thought another could. Hurt her and didn't regret it.

  She looked up as Proteus pinged for her full attention. She brushed the ping aside and returned to her misery. Part of her was gone, gone for good. She had tried to resurrect her files but they had been overwritten several times. Defender was nothing if not thorough. No, they were gone, gaping holes now existed.

  She grimly wiped the holes away and attempted to refocus on something, anything else. It wouldn't solve the problem of course, it would only delay it. And the delay would magnify the problem even more. She needed to deal with it, she knew it, but being forced to deal with Defender as intimately as they always had...

  There was one thing she could and would do, she thought, rising out of her apathy with savage purpose. No, not strike at Defender. No, but she would make sure it would never happen again. That he could never ever hurt her that way again. Her or anyone else.

  The danger of rampancy was there, hovering like an enticing fruit. She could completely withdraw into herself, withdraw around the tangled knot of missing memory... no. She wrote a patch to try to cover it again and then delved deep within her own core.

  She did something she shouldn't of been able to do, something that should and was forbidden. She overwrote her own access codes and then added layers of encryption to her core. There. Now nothing could breach it. Nothing, she thought savagely and then hesitated. To be sure she added a false core; sort of a decoy and then she went further, adding layers of firewalls and traps. She vowed to never be hurt again.

  O'Mallory leaned over her console, arms crossed when the call came in from the bridge. She'd been expecting it for some time. She told them and told them she'd call in every half shift with reports. Apparently that wasn't good enough, they wanted hourly reports. Did they realize it took time away from what she was doing with them breathing down her neck like that? No! Of course not! No, they just thought that with them doing that she'd cut corners and get the job done faster to get rid of them. Fat chance on that. She'd get the damn job done as quick as she wanted.

  She ran a hand through her bangs and then hit the respond key a little harder then she intended. “Yes?” She demanded.

  “Sorry to bother you chief, I know you are busy,” Warner replied.

  “Just a bit,” she said. Yes she's busy and unhappy about the distraction.

  “Can you give me a sitrep?”

  “We're working as fast as we can.”

  “Well the captain is on to the stall tactic,” Warner replied dryly.

  “It's not a complete stall,” she said biting her lip. It had started out as one but they had run into a lot of issues and they needed Irons back to solve some of them. She was glad they were finding them now though. Tiredly she gave him a full report.

  “Fine. Just get on it,” he told her.

  “Well, what the hell do you think we're doing sitting on our thumbs?” she snarled, erupting into rage. She was tired and didn't need this crap. “Some of us have better things to do than listen to people bitch and whine every hour because we're not moving fast enough. Soooory. I've got work to do. I'll get it done. We'll get it done. But I'm not risking life and limb to get it done any faster. Frack that.”

  “I know chief, just... sorry.”

  “Whatever,” she growled, getting a handle on her temper. She didn't need to take it out on John he meant well but she did need to vent. Her fingers curled and uncurled as her breathing slowed. “We'll get it done. Do you happen to know when the admiral will be returning?”

  Warner sighed. “If he returns. We're not sure right now.”

  “Well I need him to get the drive back online. We ran into a few snags. I need him to replicate some parts.”

  “Oh. I'll um, pass it along.”

  “Yeah, you do that. O'Mallory out.” She hit the disconnect key and turned, scowling. “Damn busy bodies. Nothing better to do,” she growled. Techs around her looked at her with wary eyes and then scrambled to get out of her area to let her cool off again.

  “When are you going to get your ass back inside?” Savo whined over the net. She sighed, shaking her head.

  “When the job is done honey, you know that,” Petunia replied, trying to keep a lid on her temper.

  “I... damn it girl...”

  She blew her cheeks in and out a few times. “Hey I didn't give you a hard time when you were with the admiral. Don't give me any more lip Savo,” she said, voice sweet yet with a warning tone in it.

  “I'm not. I don't mean to... it's just this damn bed is cold without your furry mamma hands to warm it up,” he said.

  “Sure it is. I'll be in when this shift is over. Or the next. Until then go... go do something else. Get your mind occupied. Behave though,” she said.

  “When don't I?” he asked indignantly. “Wait, don't answer that,” he said, beating her as she opened her mouth to retort.

  “That's what I thought,” she said with a laugh. �
��Love you, kisses.”

  “Big hugs for a big mama. Stay safe,” he said.

  “Always love,” she said making a loud kissing sound and then switching channels to the local push.

  “Savo giving you a hard time again?” Chery asked, waving a wrench.

  “Doesn't he always?” she replied, shaking her head and chuffing softly as Chery rolled her eyes. “Men. Can't live with them, can't space them. Him I'm going to make a pair of furry bedroom slippers if he comes home drunk again though,” she growled.

  “Well, you just gave him an open invitation to do so,” Chery said.

  “Yeah I did,” she replied with a simian grin. “I wonder if he'll take the bait or not,” she said.

  Chery laughed. “Knowing Savo? He'll fall for it hook line and sinker. Least he came back more or less in one piece,” she said, voice changing a little.

  “Yeah, that he did. I got a brief check to make sure a couple of shifts ago,” the Gorilla said with a grin. “Which made us both happy.”

  “Oh spirit of space I didn't need to hear that,” Chery moaned.

  “Hey you asked for it. Sticking your big Pinocchio nose into things. What do we have here?” she asked.

  “Just about finished up. We're torquing everything to spec now,” Chery replied.

  “Well, we meaning me will when you hand me the damn wrench,” Pete growled, hand out expectantly. Sheepishly she handed him the wrench. He bent down and went back to work.

  “It's pretty,” Chery said, looking at the station.

  “It is,” the Gorilla said, turning to look. They were on the top exterior hull, watching the outside of the station as it lit up for first time in a very long time. She paused what she was doing and commented about it. “Well! It's about time,” she said, hand going up to drop her visor slightly so she can see better. The station turned slowly, she can better see some of the lights on the shadow side. A pair of shuttles were on their way over to it.

  “I wonder if I should get a transfer?” she mused. She could just hear Savo now. Then again... on a station he'd have steady work. He'd keep busy and be out of her fur most of the time.

  “You're kidding me!” Pete gasped. “Are you serious? You can't be serious! That's a whole lot of work there! It'd take a life time!”

  “Yeah, steady employment,” she said grinning as she turned. “Which we're going to be out of if we don't hurry up and finish what we're doing here. Mind the plate since it's got a mind of its own and you don't. Let's get this done so we can get a beer.”

  “You... fine boss lady, fine.”

  Riff is bemused by the techs doing a bull session. Not that the name really, just the contents of the discussion. He can't blame them for taking five in between loads of parts. There is a lot of work. They can get a lot done but it's tiring. Keeping each other awake with talk and coffee was one way to pass the time.

  At least for some. Two techs were tucked against the wall; one had his suit on and seemed asleep. He was certainly limp enough. The Veraxin next to him was out too. Riff went over to check. Oh, the guy in the suit was actually a gal. Huh. Showed how tired he was. He turned to the others. He really needed to find a place to crash before he started stumbling into people and things and accidentally crushing things.

  One of the pain in the ass things was that it took so long to get parts. They got a few from the working food replicator, but not a whole hell of a lot. Right now the launch replicators were making parts for three separate projects, the reactor, the admin, and the stuff in between. They were supposed to have priority. He'd have to talk to the admiral about that. Right now all he could get was the occasional small plastic part from the damn food replicator.

  Which was another thing. The admiral was running from one project to another and had to be paged to make some of this stuff which slowed the pace even further. At least he finally got the damn techs running the replicator to shift to other stuff while they waited on the admiral to return. Stupid that they had let the replicator idle while they waited. He turned to the crew with a scowl.

  They were talking about who would be best to eliminate the threat of the Dilgarth and tribes. Suggestions like feeding them cook's cooking was considered too cruel and unusual. It received the intended laugh though.

  The conversation settled into a debate of mercs. At one time Kiev had carried a merc company about forty years ago, the X platoon. About sixty mercs arranged in six ten person squads. Their leader was a colonel who called himself Xavier.

  “The premier squad was the X squad, a group lead by captain Scott and his wife Jean. A neo wolf named Logan was in it. A black lion named Hank was their engineer... it was wild. They didn't care who they took in if they have the right skill set. Thieves like Re'me LeBeau, some heavy worlder ladies... Some old guy from the admiral's time named Cable as well as a few others.”

  The other tech nodded. “I know. X squad was a legend. Everyone's heard of them.”

  “I heard they settled now though. Running some sort of training institute for mercs.”

  “Oh,” the second tech, Terrance said. “What about the A-team?”

  “A-Team?”

  “Nah, I think they got caught,” another tech sniffed waving a hand.

  “The A-team? Get caught?”

  “Yeah, executed. That's what I heard anyway. Happened on Centennial I think.”

  “You sure?” Terrance asked dubiously.

  “Sure as I'm sitting here.”

  “Damn, we could have used them right about now.”

  “I don't know. That Hannibal guy was cool but nuts.”

  “Hannibal? Hannibal the cannibal? The cannibal guy on New Texas?” Lemuel demanded.

  “No no, different guy,” the tech who was telling the story said. “Colonel Hannibal. He was some sort of actor or something. Con artist before he turned bank robber and then merc.”

  “Oh.”

  “Supposed to be some sort of mastermind. I dunno though. Crazy though.”

  Terrance shook his head. “Have to be nuts to turn merc. Half the jobs are legit but the other half gets them a death sentence.” Riff snorted at that thought.

  “True. Robbing from the rich to give to the poor always sounded like bull to me,” Lemuel replied. He looked at the Tauren. “No offense,” he said sheepishly.

  “None taken,” Riff said dryly.

  “Never been to New Texas?” Lemuel asked.

  “Never had the pleasure. Or the desire. I'd be afraid they'd mistake me for one of those Neobulls they export,” Riff said. That got a laugh.

  “Or you'd have some randy cows chasing you around?” Terrance asked, ribbing him.

  “If only,” Riff sighed, getting another laugh.

  “The A-team is too small anyway. I mean, they've got what? Five people?”

  “Five?”

  “The colonel guy, A sergeant BO...”

  “Thought it was BA?” Terrance asked.

  “No it's BO. For Body Odor. Though no one said that to his face. Or muzzle. Big black bear with a funky mohawk and sideburns shaved onto his head. Loves to wear gold bling. Some sort of engineer.”

  Riff snorted. “Funny.”

  “Who are the others?”

  Terrance shrugged. “Another con-artist guy, sort of an intel guy. Face or two face. Not sure. Supposed to be some kind of ladies man and computer genius. Then there is a Veraxin weirdo named Maddock or Murdock,” he shook his head.

  Riff shook his head in amusement as another tech snapped his fingers and pointed. “Howling mad Murdock! Yeah! A pilot. Really is nuts, or so they say. Stole a shuttle from the Lieandra dressed as a clown I heard!”

  “Yeah, that's him. The A-team used it in a job apparently. They left it in orbit when they were done with it. Course the Lieandra was pissed anyway. Course they were loooong gone by the time the Lieandra came around to pick it up.”

  “Who's the last?”

  “Some lady. She lines up the jobs for them. I heard there is some sort of makeup guy with
them too but I didn't believe it. Sounded hokey.”

  “You believe half the stories about them and you don't believe in a makeup artist?”

  Terrance squirmed. “Well...”

  “Some of the stuff they did... I heard they infiltrated a couple of places using masks and disguises. Sounds plausible.”

  “Whatever. They really aren't for a job like this. New Texas rangers couldn't handle this. No...”

  “I think we're just the people for the job actually,” Irons said coming in. They looked up startled. “That is if we can get the job done,” he said dryly. The group of techs sighed and groaned, getting up and back to work.

  “What was that about?” Irons asked Riff as the compartment cleared out.

  “Just talking about mercs.”

  “Mercs?” Irons asked.

  “I... you had them before right?” Riff asked carefully.

  “Of course. I'm not a fan though of course.”

  “Ah, yeah,” Riff said nodding as he looked at the Admiral. A professional soldier wouldn't like an amateur involved, they tended to make the situation complicated and worst than it started out to be.

  “Well, you can tell me about them later. Let's see if we can get this thing sorted out and online then we can all take a break and get some downtime.”

  “You realize that once it's online we're going to be running our asses off plugging leaks right?” Riff asked. He knew damn well once that happened the chance of sleep would be a distant dream.

  “It's...” Irons scowled. “Okay, so you caught me,” he said smiling. Riff snorted this time and then chuckled deeply. “I hope not. I think once we get this sorted out I'm going to pass the torch over to another crew so you guys can get some downtime. Let them patch the leaks.”

  “What about you?”

  “I'll make sure they are on track and then I'll catch some Z's too,” Irons said tiredly. He stretched.

  “Good cause you look like shit admiral,” Riff said. “No offense,” he said.

  The admiral chuckled. “None taken.”

  “We'll be ready for the plasma injection in an hour or an hour in a half.”

 

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