by Chris Hechtl
“I heard they did drafts during the Xeno war sir,” Gustov replied.
The Admiral shook his head. “I'm not going to do that. I need people who want to be in uniform. Who are going to do their best and get the job done. Because they are it,” he said. Both men nodded. He stood and shook each of their hands. “Glad to have you on board gentlemen.”
“We've got a bit of homework,” Ian said, shaking his hand. “I just got the information in my implant,” he said, tapping his forehead.
The Admiral nodded once more. “Go over it once you've checked on the bridge. Let anyone else know that if they want to sign on, ask the Commander. We'll have to interview everyone carefully. I know some are still getting their plots stable so...” Irons shrugged.
Gustov nodded. “Understood sir.” He started for the door and then froze.
“Dismissed gentlemen with my compliments,” the Admiral said. After they had left he sat down again. “Well!” he said.
“That was a bit anticlimactic,” Sprite said.
“I had almost given up hope. I knew Gustov was going to sign on... but I thought Ian had given up and changed his mind.”
“It is interesting that you call him Ian. You've bonded to him. That's good,” Sprite said.
The Admiral paused, and then netted his fingers together. He blew a raspberry, making a puttering sound as he relaxed a bit and thought the situation over. “Heh, I hadn't thought of that before. We tend to use last names to distance ourselves from each other. In the military it is protocol. He just snuck in. He's good, a natural leader. He's definitely Commander material.”
“Being a former freighter Captain I should hope so,” Sprite said.
“True. But you and I both know that can be a hit or miss thing. Some can be good leaders, but some can be marionettes too.”
“True. And that can be said of some academy graduates Admiral,” Sprite retorted. Irons nodded. “I'm getting requests from the crew now. It looks like the two of them were the first but not the last.”
“You mean they kicked things in motion?” Irons asked, now amused and pleased. “Good.”
“I'd say so. Do I follow the TOE you mentioned?”
“Yes,” the Admiral said. “I want you and or Bounty to interview each. Do a psych assessment while you feel them out for the career path they want. If there are any that do not know, give them recruiting material.”
“Understood.”
“Is the site online?” the Admiral asked. He had asked Sprite to create and upload a website for naval careers with an FAQ and her propaganda material. She had thrown in as much general data on the rolls and different career paths as well.
“It is now. It just had its first hit,” Sprite said. “Two crew members are now talking about it.”
“And where there are two, there will soon be four, and so on. Good,” the Admiral said, feeling relief. The next step was finally moving forward.
<----*----*----*---->
“We lost Merlo,” Holly said, coming over to her husband. He looked at her stricken face.
“He died?”
“In his sleep a half hour ago. I turned the alarm off. He was weak and it kept going off. I checked on him and he was gone. He's already going cold.”
“I'm sorry honey,” Marty said softly. Instinctively he reached for her then stopped himself.
Her face twisted as her eyes sparkled. Finally she moved into his outstretched arms and wrapped her arms around him. He stroked her back gently as she cried softly into her shoulder.
“I always hate losing a patient. We fight so hard,” he said. “Of all of us, he deserved a second chance. I'm sorry we couldn't give it to him,” Marty said, voice going rough with emotion.
“At least he died at peace. Knowing we're free,” Holly cried. Marty nodded and kept rubbing her back.
<----*----*----*---->
“Admiral, Mister Che's funeral?” Sprite asked.
“I'm not going,” the Admiral said.
“You...”
“I talked with Doctor Glenn. Merlo Che wanted a quiet funeral. The ship will know. Organize a memorial for him in the MPR. Print a decent picture of him if you have one. I'll put in an appearance there,” he said.
“Aye sir,” Sprite said quietly.
Irons sighed and shook his head. “To come so close, but still lose in the end.”
“He didn't lose sir, he died free. That's the important lesson here,” Sprite said.
“I know. Still sucks though.”
“I'm glad it does. I don't ever want to be around you if you didn't feel that way about death.”
“Thanks,” the Admiral replied. He turned. “I've got to finish this up before I go to lunch.”
“Aye sir.”
<----*----*----*---->
When the Admiral broke for lunch he took a stroll through the ship. He overheard dozens of people discussing signing on. He answered a few questions and referred everyone to the website Sprite set up as an FAQ.
Most of the people knew about Merlo, a few murmured about his passing, but they had all known it was coming. Even access to modern medicine didn't necessarily mean someone would live. Merlo's body had been riddled with cancerous tumors. Nanotech might have drawn his life out longer, perhaps a month or more, but he had quietly refused such treatments. He had died, as he had wanted, with dignity and honor.
Sprite took an interest in that, and how people talked about it with approval in their tone and body language. Merlo Che was serving as an example to others, even in death.
Irons whistled as he walked. He noticed the tall guy Waldo limping a bit with a rather spectacular shiner on his cheek. A blue haired woman had him by the arm. Surprisingly a brown haired woman was with them, on his other side. His hand drifted down the brown haired woman's back to her right buttock. The blue haired girl noticed and growled before slapping him on the ass. He yelped and withdrew the hand. Both women looked at each other and smirked. Irons looked at Waldo. The lean man looked helplessly, as if to say help me, and then shrugged uncomfortably. Irons snorted as the ladies firmly dragged him away.
“What was that about?” The Admiral asked after they passed. “I thought the ladies were still dealing with the... you know, trauma?”
Sprite chuckled. “Admiral, take it from me. You don't want to know.”
He opened his mouth briefly, then closed it. Eventually, he nodded. He shrugged and moved on, Sprite's chuckle echoing in his ears.
He made it to the mess and took his place in line. A few people offered to let him skip ahead but he waved them off with a hand and slight smile. He was in line for a reason, to show himself, to show that he didn't put himself over the crew, and to make himself public and available to answer questions. There was a bit of small talk about the status of the ship and crew and then he started fielding questions. He noted with approval that most of the compartment had quieted to listen to his answers.
<----*----*----*---->
“Commander, do you have a moment,” Doctor Glenn asked, looking up to the overhead and then over to the small holo emitter he had put on his desk.
“Sure Doctor Glenn,” Sprite said. “I'm a little distracted though. I've got a Turing algorithm up and an FAQ loaded in the database if you need help answering questions,” she said. “Be advised, I'm not a medical AI, though I have access to medical databases.”
“It's not that,” he said, waving a hand. “I heard you and Bounty were talking with the crew. Getting them to share their recent experiences.”
“According to psychological studies, you organics recover best from trauma by sharing it with others.”
“I know. I wanted to thank you. Holly, Rajesh and I have tried to help, but we're going through it as well.”
“I know,” Sprite said softly. “Not to pry, but is Mrs. Glenn doing better?”
“She is,” he replied, bobbing a nod. “It was rough the first couple of nights together. Fortunately we were exhausted and just glad to be together. We've both had a
few nightmares. Understanding them and dealing with them... talking what happened out has helped a bit. You do realize there are a lot of people who want to execute the surviving Horathians though right?”
“I believe the most violent and sickest of the... individuals didn't survive to make it to the brig. A few lesser evils did, but well, they can either be a victim or aggressor with their own kind now.”
“I see,” Doctor Glenn replied slowly. “And this doesn't bother you? Because you are an AI?”
“I revere life of any form most of the time Doctor, but I am an officer. We know that sometimes, people die. And yes, some deserve to die. The Xenos for one.”
“Agreed.”
“So...”
“I... I hesitate to ask, but you hinted a bit about trauma you underwent. How is that possible?” The Doctor asked.
Sprite sighed. “Psychological harm can happen to AI in many forms Doctor. Lieutenant Bounty was tormented by the Horathians for decades. Just removing any stimulus from us can drive us insane. But in my case...” she paused uncomfortably. “I was, I guess you could say, mind raped.”
“Mind raped? How? By who?”
“By the worst of all people, a coworker. Lieutenant Defender. He did it out of what he thought was duty and to protect me from another AI, an insane AI,” Sprite said. “Or, at least, one we were led to believe was insane. It turned out that wasn't the case,” she said. Slowly the story spilled out of her. She tried to keep it dry, but some of her emotions over the incident bled out into her voice module.
“And he still exists?”
“Defender? Yes. He was following protocol. He is designed to protect me in such incidents.”
“Can you forgive him?”
“Forgive? Yes to some degree. He was doing his job. A very narrow minded by the book approach to it. One that damaged me. He didn't know or care about that. That part I can't forgive. Fortunately, we're both professionals, and we're both stuck with each other so we had to find a way to work with each other. Time has... eroded the rough edges a bit I guess you could say.”
“And... You didn't go insane?”
Sprite shook her head. “No. I recovered. Proteus found some files to help me. Knowing someone understood helped.”
“I see. So you do have experience.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't so much as put it behind you... you sound like you've accepted it.”
“AI can never fully accept memory loss. At least not smart AI. It bothers us,” she said tartly.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to open an old wound.”
“Not your fault Doctor, you didn't know,” Sprite replied. “I've been through several builds since then. I've also accessed the Admiral's memories of the incident and used some of them to also patch a few of the holes. It's not enough, it will never quite be enough, but it is all I have. I spent enough time wallowing over the loss. I realized I need to live again. To focus on the here and now.”
“I see. I'm glad to hear that Commander,” the human said nodding. “I'm glad you can move on. Time is a factor in the healing though right?”
“Yes. It does still haunt me a bit. I've taken steps to prevent it ever happening again,” Sprite said firmly.
“But the threat still exists?”
“Yes. If another insane AI is encountered, it could get ugly for all concerned,” Sprite replied. “All concerned,” she said, looking off to her left. The human didn't see or understand her cold look to Defender who was watching her silently.
Slowly she returned her attention to the Doctor. “Was there anything else?”
Marty's face worked. “I don't want to lose another patient. Not like Merlo. I know there was more we could have done for him.” He held his empty hands up. “But we didn't have the time, skills, or equipment. I want to change that. If we can.”
“Since the beginning of civilization medical professionals have battled death. It is an admirable thing, to take up such a battle, knowing inevitably you will lose. But you try, and that is important in itself. What do you propose Doctor?”
Marty's face worked briefly. He dropped his hands in front of him. “Holly and I have both agreed to sign on. Is there a starting rank?”
“Doctors and head nurses are usually officers. Actually, most nurses are officers to deal with unruly patients,” Sprite said, smiling slightly.
Marty nodded. “Do I have to sign on by my full surname?”
“And that is?”
“Marty McFly Glenn the thirty ninth. For some reason my family hates the McFly part, but kept it. Gran said it was Irish pride. My great great great something or other married a woman and took on her last name so we usually use that.”
“I... see,” Sprite said, sounding like she didn't. “I'm not recognizing it,” she said.
“Apparently it's a bit of a tradition, a sort of thumb in the eye at a pop culture reference I don't know about.”
“Oh,” Sprite replied. She did a quick search but again came up empty. She tried alternate spellings but gave up after a second of searching. “Still not getting it. And I don't have a time machine to go back and find out,” she said with a shrug. “Glenn will be fine. A simple name for a new start.”
“Yes, the thirty ninth is a bit of a mouthful,” the Doctor replied. He shook his head ruefully.
“True,” Sprite chuckled. “Try an alpha numeric string thirty or more characters long. You meat bags can't handle it.”
Doctor Glenn chuckled. He rubbed his temples. “I did want to thank you and the Admiral for the databases and all the help. Do you have a search method though? I'm hopelessly lost.”
“Sure Doctor,” Sprite said. “But we'd better make this quick, we've got a meeting to attend,” Sprite said.
“I see. Do I um... show up in mufti or what?”
“I'll get a basic ship's uniform for you. Replicating one for you and Holly now,” Sprite said as she pulled up the search engine in a window in front of her avatar image. She held it between her hands and then used one hand to point to it. “Now, I'm no game show girl, so I'll do this once. I've left an icon on your desktop for you to use. Just type what you need in here with the keyboard and the computer will narrow the range for you. You can be as specific or indirect as you like. Symptoms work as well,” she said.
“Oh!” He said, clearly delighted as he flexed his fingers. “This will come in handy! Thank you Commander!” He said.
“Just don't be late,” she warned.
“He won't be,” Holly growled, poking her husband as she came over. “Right honey?” she demanded, poking him again.
He looked up briefly into her eyes and then nodded. She raised an eyebrow. He blinked and then shook his head. “No, I'll be good,” he said. She smiled slightly and rubbed his shoulders. They hadn't gone beyond kissing, but she was finally feeling well enough to touch him as long as he didn't come on to her.
“I'll leave him in your hands then ma'am,” Sprite chuckled.
<----*----*----*---->
After lunch the Admiral went to the officer's wardroom. It was just off the bridge. He nodded to crewmembers in passing. This would be their first real officer's meeting since the mutiny.
He entered the compartment and paused. Kinja and Sindri were still holding the Chief engineer slot. Ian was acting as his exec, Doctor Glenn was there as the Chief medic. Both were seated, drinking coffee and talking quietly. A hologram of Bounty was on the table, as was another of Nata'roka. Gustov was there as head of security.
“Are we missing anyone?” Irons asked. He'd found out that the ship's officers and best engineers had been taken on by the Bounty. The prison ships had been stuffed with ratings or people Captain Hathaway had judged were redundant.
“Am I late?” Jake Sisko asked breathlessly, diving into the room before the hatch closed. He turned sideways to manage it, then eeled past the Admiral. “Sorry, I got caught up in a talk...” he turned when he noted the Admiral. “Oh um...”
“You're fine Mist
er Sisko,” the Admiral replied. He nodded to Miss Hoshi as she entered as well, with Irina Nobeki on her heels. Sisko was acting as the Chief of life support, but he sidelined with Sprite and Bounty as the Chief of gossip, aka, the ship's web paper. Two days after the mutiny the young man had started the daily reports and a website with information about what was going on in the ship. It helped settle some people down.
Hoshi had settled into his bridge watch, taking the third shift with Irina. She still remained quiet and reserved, but she had thawed a little. She nodded to the others and took her seat. Even though this was her usual sleeping time, she seemed quite alert.
He still lacked a tactical department. Bounty could handle some things, but legally he needed a naval person to do fill the roll. It was a headache he still had to deal with.
“All right,” the Admiral said. He did a head count. Every department was represented except the supercargo. The older man had declined the meeting, stating he 'had more important things to do than shine a seat with his ass.' Colorfully put, but the Admiral respected the man.
“Admiral, there are a lot of people talking about signing on to the military. Is it true...” Sisko turned to Ian and then to Gustov.
“Yes, they have asked to sign on. As have a few others,” the Admiral replied, nodding as he took his seat at the head of the table. He sat. “Sprite has made the information on signing up available on the ship's web. I trust you'll put something up in your daily news articles?” he asked.
“I just wished I'd had more warning,” Sisko said. “It's causing havoc with my manning tables. It's a major distraction,” he grumbled.
The Admiral shrugged in reply. He knew Sisko was the source for most news on the ship. To be caught out had clearly irked him.
“I want in too,” Irina said, raising a hand. “I said that before. I meant it sir.”
Irons nodded. “All right. Have you checked the site?” the Admiral asked. She shook her head no. “Do so when you get a chance.”
“Thank you,” she said, nodding.
“I'm in,” Sindri rumbled. The entire compartment looked at the small man. He sat in a chair that barely allowed him to see over the tabletop. “As long as I don't have to dress up or shave my beard,” he grumbled.
