“I'll be fine,” Irons said. “Unlike the rest of you I've got shields built in. And weapons,” he said raising his right arm and letting it morph into a plasma blaster and then back. “But I think we'll bring a carrot too. Some food should help break the ice.”
“Yeah, that might help,” Riff said with a nod. “Best way to get to someone is through the stomach,” he said.
“Speaking from experience?” a tech teased. Riff gave Gwen a guilty look. She twitched her ears.
“Yes honey, we're waiting,” she said with a challenging look.
“Nope, so not going to stick my mouth I mean my hoof into my mouth,” he said firmly. The others laughed.
“I can direct you to the nearest tribe,” Sid said. He didn't look at all happy though.
Irons nodded. “Good. Let me do a few things here. I want more parts running and I need to refuel my shuttle. I checked, it's down to five percent. That's not good.”
“Okay, we can handle the refuel admiral,” Gwen said making a note. Irons looked at the Tauren and then nodded. He could trust them with that chore, they had proven themselves.
“All right then. Let me queue up some more parts and then I'll go play first contact man. Riff...”
“Get some sleep. Yeah I know, Gwen's been on me about it for the past hour,” the bull replied and then bellowed a yawn. The bellow startled a few people around them. They glared at him. He smacked his lips together and scratched. “Sorry,” he muttered stretching. “Can't help it,” he said.
“Next time turn down the volume. I damn near wet myself,” a tech snarled.
“I nearly dropped this thing,” another tech said, cradling an IO bank. “You have any idea how long it took to make this thing?”
“Okay okay,” Riff said getting up. “I get the picture. I'm off. Back in a bit,” he said.
“I'll tuck you in soon honey,” Gwen said with a pat on his shoulder. He snorted and then left.
“If that's it then,” Irons said getting up and slapping his thighs. “I'll get my end rolling.”
“I'll get on the refueling admiral,” Gwen said with a nod.
“I'll get you what I can from our files on that tribe admiral,” Sid said with a nod as he disappeared.
Irons approached the guards. “Nervous sir?” one asked. He shook his head.
“Just a normal day in paradise,” he said opening the hatch. After all, he was still in his improvised armor.
“You want company admiral?” the guard asked.
“No, got it covered,” Irons said, bringing his shields up manually until they sparkled and crackled. The guard's eyes widened. “I don't want any more of our people getting hurt. I'll play nice,” he said climbing through the half opened hatch. “Or at least try to. Close it behind me. I'll let you know when I'm ready to come back,” he said looking over his shoulder.
“Your funeral admiral,” the guy said, slapping the close button. The hatch closed behind him.
“I highly doubt it,” Irons said, turning. He had his suit on of course, he could button up but he didn't bother. He checked his HUD. The nearest group of life signs were about a hundred meters to his left and one deck down. They were supposedly trapped. He'd find out in a minute.
He made his way through the companionways, listening. He could see a heat signal in front and behind him. more than one behind him actually, though the other two hung back on the edge of his sensor range. He was aware of a possibility of an ambush but judged it only moderately likely.
When he got just outside the tribe's quarters they seemed to react. He started picking up audio chatter. He frowned. None of it was friendly either. They weren't sure what to do though. Half were sounding hostile. Can't have that.
A squad was forming up in front and behind him. No, definitely can't have that. He didn't want to kill anyone, he came in peace, or was at least trying to do so. He looked around judging the situation. They thought they had him bottled. They were defending their home, intellectually he could understand that. But he was the new landlord and they needed to get some things straightened out. Namely the lease and the rent.
There were about a dozen, most of them Terran with a couple Veraxin and one Gashg. All armored in improvised armor and armed with improvised melee weapons. In other words no match for him.
He used his cybernetics to generate a sonic attack that disabled them before they could attack. The usage of nonlethal force was surprising to some of the cybers who were watching. He picked his way forward through the fallen bodies, trying not to step on anyone. A few of the beings that were made of more sterner stuff managed to recover enough to take a swing at him. He used martial arts to subdue them quickly with as little damage as possible.
After fighting the squad off, he paused at the sound of coughing. He turned, localizing the source of the coughing. From the heat signature it was a child. A human child, female. He pulled a cover plate off to find a girl hunched over in surprise, disabled by her coughing. He reached in and pulled her out before she could stop him.
“Come here young lady. You don't sound so good,” he said hefting her. His sensors scanned her body.
She stared at him and then was wracked with coughing once more. He can hear a lot of fluid in her lungs, not a good sign. He set her down on top of a crate and looked her over. “You need medical attention,” he said. His ultrasonic scanners pierced her body easily, mapping her internal organs. Her temperature was one oh three, not good. She definitely showed signs of an infection. But her skin appeared in good shape. That meant... he tried hard not to frown.
“Doc, we've got a problem. A young girl, sick,” he said.
He turned to see a woman rising behind him. He still had his hand on the girl, propping her up. “Are you her mother?” he asked turning his head to her.
She blinked at him, furious at his manhandling her child but confused by the stunner and his actions. “Look lady, peace. I come in peace. Believe it or not I am here to help.” He turned to the girl. “From the sound of it...” he winced at her coughing, “You need all the help you can get.”
“We were fine until you showed up,” she said, coughing herself. Irons frowned, doing a quick comparison scan of her. Yes, she had a fever as well.
“Doc, we've got a contagion. I'm told it's from us,” Irons reported.
“Shit,” Trask muttered over the intercom. He looked up with the others. They looked at him.
“That is a doctor. She's here to help.”
“Ghost?” a Veraxin chittered.
“Not quite,” he said pursing his lips. “Truce?”
“If it will help my daughter...” the woman said. He nodded. She nodded back. “No tricks,” she growled.
“Truce,” he said. “How widespread is this?”
“All of us humans have it. It started when you got here,” she said, glaring.
“Not from me. But I can bet from someone else. They were possibly a carrier of something and most likely don't know it. It might be something as simple as the Rhino virus but I doubt it. Influenza possibly. We'll find out,” he said.
“Sure you will,” she growled.
“Yes we will,” he said. “John Henry Irons, Federation Fleet Admiral. I've taken control of this station.”
She stared at him. He cocked his head, propping the girl up. Finally he turned and had her lay down. She popped her thumb into her mouth. He smiled a little. “You are so much like Sophia at this age,” he said.
The mother seemed to calm down, looking at him with new eyes. “Doctor Trask?” he asked.
“I'm working on it now admiral. I can't do much though. I... we need blood samples.”
“Okay,” Irons said with a nod. “Sprite?”
“Yes admiral?”
“I need your help. These people need your help. Can you handle that?”
“I suppose,” she said tiredly. Irons made peace with Sprite long enough for her to help. “You do realize this is a great deal like the Spanish meeting the Inca right?” she a
sked after a moment.
“Disease you mean?” Irons asked frowning. “I should have seen that,” he murmured.
“You are human you can't think of everything,” Sprite replied.
“Thanks,” he said.
“It does sound similar in theory,” Clio said agreeing with Sprite.
“Thanks for the support,” Sprite replied dryly.
“Sorry, historian in me. Do I call you step mom?” Clio asked amused.
“Pass,” Sprite replied with the first hint of humor in her voice in a while. Irons felt a little bit of himself thaw as well.
“Okay,” he said turning. “I was planning on introducing myself and having a talk with your tribe and it's leaders. But this emergency is more important. Can you and your young lady come with me?” the admiral asked.
“Where?” The mother asked.
“Well, believe it or not this isn't intentional. We're going to take you to the medics. They will draw some blood and do some tests on it. See what's going on and what they can give you to cure it.”
“Cure?” the woman asked dubiously. There was only a slight hint of hope in her voice. She seemed resigned to death.
“Cure. Antibiotics at least,” he said firmly. The woman swayed a little. “Clean food and water to help out. Flush your system and stuff. Come on, I'll help,” he said picking the girl up in his arms. She was limp, eyes almost closed.
The mother stared at him. He made his way through the group. The squad stepped aside, not sure what to do. Finally the woman followed.
He took them to the hatch, then through it when it opened for them. The woman warily looked at the guards. Stane was there, he rubbed his temple. He didn't look happy at first at their arrival but one look at the little girl had his unhappiness in full retreat. The big bald guy smiled a little and then nodded, tipping a finger to his brow in salute. That seemed to mollify her a little more. She straightened her back and followed.
The admiral made his way to the makeshift sickbay. It was in a storage compartment, not really suited, but the best that was available right now. He'd rather take them to the Kiev but he knew that option wasn't available. The captain would throw three shades of a fit over the idea if he suggested it and he really couldn't blame the man. No one sane wanted to import a potentially lethal contagion into their ship.
“Doc?” he asked, setting the girl down on a gurney. The woman went to her side, shouldering past Irons to hold her hand and stroke her brow.
A short brown haired medic came up and checked the girl over. “Ma'am?”
“She's a patient too. Contagion. Influenza like symptoms. Work with doctor Trask and doctor Numiria to find out what's going on and how to treat it,” the admiral ordered.
“Broad spectrum antibiotic,” Trask said from the overhead. “Start with one hundred cc's. Get it into them now. Water as well; they are more than likely dehydrated from all the sweating and fever.”
“Okay,” The medic said nodding. Her hands flashed as she started to take action.
“Then we'll need blood samples and a check. We need equipment...”
“Which we don't have here,” the medic said looking around.
“Yet,” Irons said. “Give me a list of what you need doc, we'll get it for you,” he said.
“Uploading a list now. I'd ask you to use the equipment we have but the nearest is...”
“Too far away,” Irons said as she put a map up on his HUD. “And on the wrong side of a couple of decompressed areas. No I'll fab up what you need doc. Just let me get going.”
“We need to check you as well,” Trask said.
“Later doc. I'm not a carrier. I'll tell you classified. If you want more information ask Commander Sprite.” He turned to the mother. “You are okay here ma'am?” he asked. She stared at him for a moment, stroking her daughter's small hand with her thumb. Finally she nodded.
“Okay. Make sure they give you some food too. I've got to get some equipment to help you. I'll be back,” he said.
“I'll do that,” she said as Irons moved out.
“Admiral...” Trask said over the radio link.
“Seriously doc,” he said not breaking his stride. “Check with her. I'm fine. I've... let's just say I'm immune to any disease, bacteria, or nanite plague you or anyone else can dream up. Okay?”
“I'm not as much worried about immunity as I am you being a carrier.”
“I'm not doc. Again...”
“I'll talk to your AI.”
Doctor Trask started a friendship with Doctor Numiria and the medics. She really hit it off with Doctor Kraft. Their mutual time period helped to build a quick level of respect and friendship. They came up with an aerosol in less than twenty hours that they handed over to the Stewards to inject into the life support system. It was a combination of vaccine and antibiotic. It won't cure those already infected but it will help stave off the pandemic long enough for them to take more direct methods.
The woman and her daughter were fine, resting comfortably. Irons quietly asked the medic to make sure a woman is on hand. Security is posted outside just in case of an incident.
After a day, they recovered enough to be sitting up and were eager to return to their own people. They had a lot of stories to tell. They were given fresh new clothes, something that the mother is wide eyed about. She changed and then bundled their old clothes, and stuff, she had stolen under her arm. She follows him back to their quarters with the girl holding her hand.
Using them as a bridge Irons made contact with the rest of their tribe and then the other tribes that day. It was hard, they do not trust easily. His appearance as a real person gets the group over their initial fear, but only so far. Giving them food and medicine helped a little, but earned a little contempt from some. He's not sure why.
“Look folks, I'm here to help,” he sighed. This really was taking up a lot of his time; time better spent repairing the station in his opinion. He went over to a flickering light and reached up. He let Proteus go to work, morphing his arm to repair the wiring. His ability to repair things awed them.
“Romeo right?” Irons asked the supposed leader. The man nodded, arms crossed. He was dressed in Dilgarth skins and rags with a necklace made of Dilgarth teeth around his thick neck. His cheeks were sunken in, his skin a bit reddish from the slowly abating fever. “We're here to rebuild the station. Some of these people are here to stay. I'm going to tell you the same thing...” he paused, seeing something on his HUD he shouldn't.
“Dilgarth!” he warned, turning to the heat source.
Romeo and the others gathered weapons but it was already too late. The alien reached out as he got too close to an open panel, cutting into his arm. He threw himself backwards. Irons didn't have a clean shot; there were too many people in between him and the damn alien. He pulled one aside, and then lunged in as the alien struck downward in a killing blow.
His shields caught the scythe before it can cut, bouncing the organic blade off easily. The alien hissed in surprise. Irons was still in motion, he reached out and grabbed it by its short stubby thick neck and squeezed hard. Enhanced muscles and a life time in martial arts proved to be the creature's undoing. It's filmed eyes pop as he crushed it's trachea and blood vessels in its neck. A quick twist of the wrist and arm and it's neck is snapped.
The leader was shaken and only lightly hurt. He was appreciative of Irons but reserved judgment on the situation. Irons asked that they talk it over as a tribe and try to keep an open mind. He paused and then turned back. Romeo is sitting there, staring at the fallen alien as a healer works on his shoulder. He winced at the stitching, trying hard not to look. Already a pair of hunters had curved blades out cutting up the beast. They would feast well this evening.
“With or without your help this station is going to be rebuilt. If you wish to remain here you are going to have to help somehow. I know the augments have tried to help you. They've been taking care of you when they can.”
“The ghosts?” Romeo asked.<
br />
Irons frowned. “Not all ghosts are bad. I admit a few of them are or I should say were.” He wasn't so sure the bad ones were all gone, he for one didn't like half the surviving sane cybers but that was his opinion. “I took the bad ones down. They will never bother you again. But don't judge them all by that bad example. Some have helped you over the years, leaving out food or water for you.”
Looks were exchanged among the tribe. Finally the leader cleared his throat. “Our ancestors were doing that,” he said looking at Irons. “Are you now saying it was the ghosts?”
“Some of the ghosts are your ancestors,” Irons replied. That caused a stir. “I can put you into contact with them if you'd like. The ones that mean you no harm I mean.”
“We'll think about it,” the leader said, looking at his tribe. more than half were on edge. Apparently this was too much to assimilate all at once. Best to deal with things in small doses.
The admiral nodded. “Please do so. Also if you do not wish to remain on the station then we will transport you to the planet.”
“The planet?” The leader asked intently before people around them began to babble. He waved for silence in exasperation. “What do you mean?” His hazel eyes bore into the admiral's.
“I mean just what I say. If you can't handle it here or do not want to rejoin civilization I can arrange it so you are transported to the planet and remain on an island. A remote island where you will have plenty of air around you.”
“No Dilgarth?” Romeo asked.
“No. You'll have to learn to hunt and fish and farm for yourselves. It's a hard life. It is an option though,” he said looking around.
“Admiral is this wise? Making such a promise?” Sprite asked him on his HUD. He closed his eyes briefly ignoring her question for now.
“You don't have to make a decision now but soon. Please consider what I've said carefully,” he urged. The leader and a few others nodded.
“If, and I do mean if we stayed. What would you do with us?” The leader asked as Irons turned to leave.
Irons paused and then turned back. “You all know this station better than almost anyone. There are jobs for all if they are willing to get along with others and are willing to learn. Food, schools, clothing, medical, all of it. What your ancestors had can be returned. It will take a lot of hard work and time. But it can be done. It will be done. With your help,” he said.
Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) Page 56
