Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane

by Chris Hechtl

  “Let's see what we have here,” the Admiral said, plugging in. He felt Sprite and Proteus go to work. He turned to the Doctor. “You were saying Doctor?”

  “Oh um, huh?”

  “The Ssilli?” Irons prompted.

  “Oh yes, that,” the Doctor replied. “Her. She's had a rough life. She's old Admiral, past her prime.”

  “The Ssilli equivalent of menopause?” the Admiral asked.

  “No, not quite that far. But malnutrition, psychological and physical trauma have certainly taken their toll.”

  “Okay.”

  “Vinatelli,” Sprite said. “Him again.”

  The Admiral frowned and held up his left hand to the humans. They paused uncomfortably. “Say that again Commander?”

  “Leonardo Da Vinatelli.”

  “Okay, and...”

  “He created the dog about ten years ago. Or the robot body at least. Apparently it was a pet of someone that worked for him.”

  “And how do you know all this?” the Admiral asked. His mind whirled with the implications. They had known the Horathian's had crude cybernetic implant tech, but to take it to this level?

  “He disappeared from Antigua where he rose to become a major inventor and research engineer. Brilliant. A Leonardo. The family rose with him on his coat tails. They survived off the money from his inventions.”

  “Patents?”

  “Yes. He was tied to the Eternia city. I ran across a few references to him when we were in Antigua. I just cross referenced them, but that's all I have.”

  “Okay, so obviously he set up shop somewhere else?”

  “It looks that way Admiral. And this man is brilliant. He recreated things, some just from parsing them out logically. Quite the engineering innovator.”

  “I see,” the Admiral said. Proteus reported on his HUD that the nanites had repaired the body the best they could. The animal's life support system needed to be purged and refreshed.

  “Okay,” the Admiral said, unjacking. He stood and turned. “Proteus has done what he can to repair the robot body. Sprite was there a manual in the firmware?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dump it into the system and send a link to the Doctors. Bookmark the section on the nutrient care.”

  “Understood. Done.”

  “Good. Glad that's settled,” he said.

  “At least we found out it wasn't a Neodog,” Sprite said softly. Irons nodded.

  Holly looked stricken at the very idea. Her husband touched her arm. “They said it wasn't,” he murmured.

  “No, but the very idea!” she said.

  “From what we've gathered about the Horathian's they are guilty of far worse,” Sprite said. “You have experienced it first hand,” she said as Holly shivered. Her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

  The Admiral turned, letting them get their emotions under control.

  “Have you had anyone request the implants be removed?” he asked.

  Marty rubbed Holly's biceps briefly and then shook his head. “No, none. Not that we expected anyone to want them removed.”

  “I still need to ask. And offer restitution,” the Admiral said.

  “Why?”

  “I...” Irons sighed. “Look. I violated a major medical ethic by giving people implants without permission and another when I used my own tech to repair them.”

  “Oh,” Marty said. He shook his head. “Admiral, I highly doubt anyone will object. Ever. You did the right thing. Sometimes it's like that, we've both been through it,” he said, squeezing his wife's arm. Holly nodded. “We've had times where you have to treat a patient when they are unconscious, or when they are not in their right mind.”

  “I know, but I'm not a Doctor. I'm an engineer.”

  “Oh,” Marty replied.

  “It's fine,” Holly murmured, arms crossed. “We're fine. Move on,” she said.

  “All right,” the Admiral said, feeling a sense of relief over that. He knew it wasn't quite over, they couldn't speak for everyone, but at least someone accepted it. “The Ssilli?”

  “Her name is Nata'roka,” Holly supplied. Irons nodded. “She's from your time. She has implants she was a hyper-navigator. Is a hyper-navigator I should say. If she'll do it for us.”

  “Okay,” the Admiral replied thoughtfully.

  “You should meet her soon. A talk with her might help her. She's justifiably depressed over the state of her species. Is it true that... I mean, are they really trying in Pyrax? To bring them back?”

  “Ssilli, Malekian's and other species yes,” the Admiral replied with a nod. “They have one member from each of those two species, also sleepers. But they also have the genetic files and medical data on file. Hopefully they can combine the two to recreate the species.”

  “But they aren't the Ynari... I mean...”

  “No, but once someone has done something, they can do it again. And with more members of the species...” he indicated the Ssilli. “They have a greater chance of succeeding.

  “So, are we going to take her to Pyrax?”

  “Eventually,” the Admiral said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “I haven't actually got that far in the plan just yet. Right now I'm focusing on the immediate objectives of getting the ships sorted out.”

  “I see,” Marty replied, nodding.

  Holly looked at the dog and sighed. “Is he just going to stand like that forever?”

  “He's charging rather inefficient batteries,” Sprite replied from the overhead. “Charge time varies according to how badly they are drained. I suspect he will be finished in about an hour,” she said.

  “Lovely,” Holly said, shaking her head and looking at the dog. She turned, looking away.

  “Nata'roka has implants. Informational and stage one geriatric implants or treatments,” Sprite said. “But the Horathian's locked her out through both software and hardware. I've been sending her some information, but she can't get into the ship's net herself. Admiral, could you do something about that?”

  Irons nodded. “I can certainly look into it,” he said.

  “Good, because she still thinks you are a phantom. Meeting you would solidify what I've said to her is true in her mind.”

  “I see,” the Admiral replied.

  “Admiral, can we get implants? I mean...” Marty waved helplessly.

  The Admiral turned to the Doctor. “I can do some implant tech to a degree, but I am prohibited on it. I've bent the rules a few times on Epsilon Triangula and, well, here,” he shrugged uncomfortably. “But really, the person you should be asking that question is you.”

  “Me sir?” Marty asked. He looked at his wife in confusion. “Why me?” he asked, turning back to the Admiral. “I mean, I'm a ship's Doctor, not...” he waved his hand helplessly.

  “I think you can do a lot if you put your mind to it. And if you have the right materials and tools,” Sprite said. “The Admiral recently reminded me that you... you organics and us AI have a will. A spirit. If you believe in yourself you can achieve things. I think you can do it.”

  “Here?” the Doctor asked, looking around the tiny infirmary. There were six beds, all filled with wounded. Two of them were Horathians. They were handcuffed to the beds. A guard robot was nearby watching them carefully.

  “What happened on Epsilon?” Holly asked suddenly.

  “A lot. It's a long story,” Sprite said. “I've uploaded the information to you, and... I've just uploaded the log on our adventures on Epsilon. I think you will find the medical experience illuminating, even if it was during a plague.”

  “Plague?” Rajesh asked, looking up from where he was sitting at the nurses' station. “Did you say plague?”

  “Yes. It's dead. Long story short, a Xeno plague was unleashed when some unfortunate people opened a sleeper pod trap. We worked with the medics on the planet to kill it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you honestly think we can do implants too Admiral?”

  “I've seen you do more with a
lot less. The same on Epsilon. With a little guidance and the right tools,” the Admiral nodded.

  “Besides, you've given us a head start already,” Marty said. “Can you do it to me too? It's not fair that my lovely nurse has implants but I don't.”

  “I can give you basic information implants yes,” Irons said cautiously as Sprite put a yellow light up on his HUD.

  “Basic? There... yes, different, Um, yeah, I remember different packages,” Marty nodded thoughtfully. “Civilian you said?”

  “In order to give you military grade Doctor, with military medical protocols in the firmware, you would have to sign on as an officer. Or as an enlisted for some,” he said, looking at Rajesh. A Doctor has a powerful code set though, so it isn't taken lightly. There are ethical tests. And I must warn you, if the Horathians or someone else ever catches you, the implants will kill you.”

  “But they didn't kill you?” Holly asked as her husband frowned. She glanced at her husband and then Irons. “Somehow that doesn't sound right.”

  “The protocol was overridden,” Irons smiled. “I had a plan. The only way to fight was from the inside. So I convinced Defender to hold off.”

  “Oh,” Holly replied.

  “Think about it,” the Admiral said. He turned. “I'm going to go check on our hyper-navigator. If you need me, page me,” he said.

  “Thank you Admiral. You've certainly given us enough to read and think about,” Marty said, picking up a tablet as his wife shrugged on her white medical coat. He took his and then slipped an arm into it, still reading. His wife took the tablet in exasperated amusement. He smiled as he shrugged the coat on and then took the tablet back. “BP is holding steady?” he asked, looking at Rajesh.

  “Yes Doctor,” the SBA replied.

  “Good.”

  Irons exited smiling. “And, before you say it, yes I know that discussion will hit the grapevine shortly.”

  “Probably when one of them comes off shift. Or when someone visits one of the patients who heard the entire thing. Once it hits the MPR and mess it'll be all over the ship.”

  “Exactly,” the Admiral said.

  “Almost as if you planned it all in advance,” Sprite said, amused.

  “Maybe,” the Admiral replied with a slight smile.

  <----*----*----*---->

  The Admiral was stopped a few times to help out a tech or confused crewman. Each time he showed them what they needed to know, and had Sprite upload tutorials to them. The AI had set up an E-mail system, but so far only some of the crew had learned how to use it.

  “If you need a hand, call me or one of the AI. Remember, Bounty himself can give you a hand now that he is free,” the Admiral said waving. “He can access this section right?” he asked Sprite.

  “Yes Admiral. Through a tablet. We do need more WI-Fi nodes however,” she said, sounding testy. She always got grumpy when her bandwidth dropped below a hundred meg per second.

  “One thing at a time,” the Admiral said, shaking his head as he made his exit. He nearly stumbled over Mutt. The cyborg bulldog looked up at him with puppy eyes, plastic tongue hanging out. He shook his head and moved on. The thing had been cleaned up and repaired by the Glenns and some of the engineers, but it was still... he frowned. It was a survivor, and you couldn't help feel sorry for the thing. The decent thing would have been to put it out of his misery, but the Glenns and the crew had taken it on as a mascot. He could understand that in theory, they were all survivors and fiercely proud of that status now. They had even talked about replicating a plastic skin to cover the mechanical body. He shook his head as the ugly thing wandered off.

  “This way?” he asked. Sprite put a pointed and map on his HUD.

  “Nata'roka?” the Admiral asked, knocking on the hatch combing when he got to her compartment. He looked inside.

  “Come,” An artificial voice replied. The Admiral stepped over the knee knocker and cables there. He turned, tracing them. They were bundled together, a good sign. One was clear a water line. He could see the occasional bubble floating through it.

  “Are you the one the AI claims is an Admiral?” the alien asked.

  “Fleet Admiral, John Henry Irons.”

  “A medical flag officer?” the Ssilli asked, sounding sour.

  “Engineering officer. But you knew that already,” he said, studying her. She was large, larger than the cadet he'd met in Pyrax. She was also in a very tight pod, most likely an escape pod. From the look of the compartment someone had turned a cargo bay into her tomb.

  “Like what you see?” the alien demanded.

  “That you are alive? Yes. That you are getting better? Yes. That you are in a tiny tank and not happy? No. I can't really help that right now. Hopefully soon.”

  “I see,” the alien replied.

  “Did you go over some of what has happened?”

  “I know my species is extinct. And that we are highly desired for our services,” she replied and then sputtered as her blowhole exhaled and then inhaled.

  “Not quite true,” the Admiral said. He watched her tentacles and fins flutter a bit. She couldn't extend them fully out, and she couldn't get the tentacles out of the roof of the tank.

  He frowned, looking around. There really wasn't much they could do. Her tank was against one bulkhead. There was a narrow meter wide walk way around the other three sides. It was strewn with cables and pieces of equipment. Cables also draped from the ceiling. He frowned.

  “You aren't interested in my services? How novel,” the Ssilli responded. “So, I can go now?”

  “Um..”

  “Oh, that's right, I'm stuck here. Still a slave,” the alien said.

  “Okay, first off, loose the attitude. It's not helping,” the Admiral said, now annoyed. He turned to look her in the eye. “I'm here to help.”

  “The difference between you and the humans before is marginal. Admiral,” the Ssilli sputtered. “Did you know that the Federation nationalized all of my people? All of them? Right down to the larva. All military assets. Which of course made them targets for the Xenos,” she said bitterly.

  The Admiral nodded but spread his hands. “I didn't do it. I wasn't there. I can't change that. You know that.”

  “Yes.”

  “So let's not open up old wounds. What I am here to do...” he spotted the interface. He went over to it and jacked in. her dinner plate eyes watched him. They widened ever so fractionally in appreciation.

  “Is what?”

  “Is to rebuild the access for you,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Done,” Proteus replied after a moment. “Admiral, I have worked out a more efficient life support system than the current system here.”

  “You mapped it?”

  “I had a partial map on hand. I compared that to the system she had. This system is subpar.”

  “Understood.”

  “It was for a Gashg habitat,” the AI responded. The Admiral winced. “So not made for this load, or this purpose.”

  “Pass your plan on to the engineering life support crew in charge of this area. Make her repairs a priority,” the Admiral said.

  “Understood,” Sprite said from the PA. “Nata'roka, please be nice. The Admiral is trying to help,” she said.

  “That remains to be seen,” the alien replied.

  “I am sending you what we have on the resurrection project the Admiral started. And the recording of him with the cadet several years ago. Judge for yourself,” the AI replied, now sounding exasperated.

  “I will. You can go now,” the Ssilli said.

  The Admiral nodded but didn't move.

  “Didn't you hear me?”

  “I did. But I am an Admiral. And I'm not that easily dismissed,” Irons said. “And I did want to point something out to you. I will do my best to get you to Pyrax when we can, and get you medical help. And I want your people returned. Not just for the reasons you mentioned, but for the ones that I told the cadet. Please consider what I said. Any help you can provide
would be appreciated.”

  “I'll... think about it.”

  “Please do. And if you are bored here, please help where you can. I know you can't do anything physically,” the Admiral held up a restraining hand. “But you can help Sprite or the bridge crew through your implants. Even if it is to teach the crew what to do. I think they need the voice of experience, and you need to interact with others again. Others who won't treat you like shit.”

  “Like I said, I'll think about it,” she said.

  Irons nodded curtly and exited the compartment. Fortunately without tripping and falling on his face.

  Outside he leaned against the bulkhead and closed his eyes.

  “Tired?” Sprite asked sympathetically. “You've been on your feet for a week straight. That's near your record.”

  “I've gotten some downtime,” Irons replied. “And food.”

  “A one hour cat nap doesn't cover it Admiral,” Sprite replied. “You need rest too. Time to decompress. And remember, so do we.”

  “I... yeah.”

  “Yeah,” Sprite echoed.

  “I'll try as soon... next shift. I promise.”

  “I'll hold you too it,” the AI replied. “She's accessing the recording now.”

  “Good,” the Admiral said with a nod. “I put my foot in my mouth, but hopefully it helps.”

  “I think it will make an impact,” Sprite murmured. “And you underestimate your achievements Admiral. Even when you, as you say, put your foot in your mouth,” she teased.

  “Funny,” he replied, opening his eyes and moving on.

  <----*----*----*---->

  Sprite ran through the ship's inventory once a team led by Mister Takagi uploaded it. She marked items that could be recycled, such as a few LAV's that they had in inventory. “I don't know why they bothered with those things. A waste of space,” she said.

  “Pirates and loot Sprite,” Irons replied. The crew were going through the crew quarters, cleaning out the loot there, or turning it over to the engineers. He had caught sight of the cat pelts briefly. Someone had them at arm's length and had passed him on their way to the recycler.

  “We need a molecular furnace Admiral. You left that out on Phoenix,” Sprite said.

  “I know. I went a little overboard on replicators,” he snorted.