Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)

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Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 27

by Hechtl, Chris


  “Build off small successes,” she nodded. "Right, well, I'm keeping him over night. Casey is an electronics tech, I'm going to keep her busy fixing equipment since we can't seem to get much help." She gave Irons a look. He shrugged.

  "I can take a stab at it if you want," he offered. She grimaced.

  "No, we need you rebuilding that ship damn it." She shook her head. "Go, before I change my mind." He chuckled as he left.

  "They'll be ready by eight am!" she called as he entered the corridor. He waved as he left.

  He waved at Casey as he passed her. She was tinkering with a bed while looking at the schematic on a tablet. "Damn, chip must have been... no, looks like ah... ah... aha!" He smiled as he left her. Work was the best thing for her, it kept her close to her dad but distracted and busy. That way she didn't have to worry as much.

  "It looks like she is having fun Admiral," Sprite said. "I've received word from Angie and Logan, the parts are in the dock.” Irons nodded.

  "Let's get to work then," he said.

  "Think you can get in?" Sprite asked.

  "Sure. Anything built by man can be taken apart. How did he get in. I mean, when he last used the ship, did he get in through the lock?"

  "Funny you should ask, no. In fact he got in through an exterior airlock," Smithy replied. The Admiral turned to the avatar. Several people milling around paused.

  "Huh. Wanna bet he welded the lock shut from the inside, depressurized the cabin then got out through a hatch?" Irons asked.

  "In his condition? Admiral he was pretty tore up. I'm not sure the suit could have had integrity, and moving around in that cabin..." Sprite said. Irons shrugged.

  "Don't under estimate the human spirit. Or in this case pure cussedness. Besides, do you have a better theory?" he asked. The AI were silent.

  "Didn't think so. I'll make a stop by the Valdez compound and pick up my skin suit." He nodded politely then continued on his way.

  “What the devil is going on here?” The gutter voice hollered. Work stopped as people turned.

  “Looks like Captain Gutierrez slipped through the Doc's clutches,” Sprite said, sounding amused. “It only took him a shift. Shocking.” So much for having some lead time without the Captain breathing down their necks Irons mussed. Then again he couldn't blame the man for wanting to supervise.

  “You could have warned me,” the Admiral sighed getting up. “Coming.” He made his way to the lock. Gutierrez met him there.

  “Admiral, what the hell do you think you’re doing to my Betsy?” the battered old man snarled, leaning against a crate. A tech gave him a dirty look as she darted around him, lifting a control panel she was carrying up to squeeze by.

  “Fixing her. Among other things,” Irons turned. “Care to have a look?” he asked, turning around.

  “What did you do?” Gutierrez asked looking around uncertain.

  “See for yourself,” he pointed. Gutierrez looked around. His skin was clean, the scars were shiny. His missing left eye was covered in a patch giving him a rakish look. His good eye darted around the cab in a clockwise path, checking each and every centimeter.

  “Skin itches,” he muttered as he limped through the lock and into the cabin. The fire blackened cabin had been cleaned and rebuilt in his absence. He muttered for a moment about trespassing then sat in the new chair. There was a hiss as air escaped from the piston.

  “The chair is courtesy of a leather upholstery place here on the station. It may take a bit to get used to,” the Admiral cautioned. “They made some cut outs for your suit using the old chair as a template. There are pillows that can be put in place to fill in the voids when you’re not suited.”

  Casey stuck her head in the cabin. “Now that's all right!” she grinned looking around. “Full repair?” she asked. Irons shook his head.

  “We're on a time crunch. We cloned and rebuilt her electronics with new, it will take a little while before they settle in and integrate properly. I've got the AI running sims to help that along. We've rebuilt her drive train, I pulled her reactor core and we swapped in a new one. Her shields, impeller wedge, and tractors are being rebuilt now.” Irons stood back leaning against a bulkhead.

  “What about your launch?” Casey asked. “I heard it's not ready?”

  The Admiral smiled. “Most of the work had been done, It just needed to be integrated and a few parts added. I did a little, Sergio did some, and I had to redo a few things.” He grimaced. Casey hid a laugh with a cough. Her father was running his hand on the arm rest. “The Logan's are finishing her up now. In fact Sergio is taking her out for the first test run in a half hour if all goes according to plan,” he waved.

  “You don't expect me to make the run right off do ya?” Gutierrez growled. “With factory new parts?” The Admiral shook his head.

  “I'd prefer you do one or two test runs around the station to let things stabilize,” he replied. “We've got new suits and some gear for Firefly being manufactured now. Hopefully they will be done in time.”

  “Thought we were in a hurry?” Casey asked. Her father gave her a look.

  “You are not going,” her father said not looking at her. She turned on him.

  “But.”

  He held up a finger. “No. My final word on it. I can risk my tattered carcass. I am NOT, I repeat NOT, going to risk my one and only daughter.”

  Irons looked away. “Casey, I've got a hole in electronics anyway. Horatio would like you to fill it if you think you can. Doc also asked for you. She said you did a good job working for her.” She looked at him swallowing her pride.

  “I know how important this is. It still sucks,” she said, shoulders slumping. The Admiral smiled in sympathy. “Don't worry, once we get Firefly back, I promise you'll get a tour. Both of you.” He bowed to them. Casey nodded.

  “I'll hold you to it,” she said. The Admiral smiled again.

  “We'll bring your dad back, don't worry. Safe and sound. That way you can wring his neck for making you stay behind and worry.”

  “Don't tempt her, she's liable to do it,” Gutierrez laughed. Casey smiled.

  He watched as Sergio came in and turned the launch. As the craft settled down he let loose a breath he had been holding.

  "You too huh?" Anita asked. He looked over to see her smiling at him. He shrugged. The outer door closed and then he could hear the hiss as the bay re-pressurized. When the pressure was equalized Sergio burst from the craft's lock. He must of broken a record for post flight shut down Irons thought with an amused snort.

  "Admiral she flies like a dream!" He was grinning from ear to ear. The Admiral chuckled.

  "Glad you approve," he replied smiling back. In truth he and Sprite had been along for the ride virtually the entire time. But it was best to not let the young man know that. The inner door opened and he pushed a cart in.

  "What's all this?" Sergio asked.

  "My replicator, power cells, fusion plant, and gear. I'm not sure what we'll need." He nodded over his shoulder to Mickal and Deidra. They were pushing in cart loads of gear.

  "Move it Junior, we've got to load this bird and get her out so we can dock with Betsy and get going," Deidra said impatiently. Sergio hastily stepped aside as his aunt moved past.

  "More?" he asked as his sister and cousins pushed in other cargo lorries.

  "As much as she can hold and then some. We're even going to strap gear to her exterior and to Betsy's exterior. Fuel bladders, life support parts, anything we can think of," the Admiral replied. He was showing them how to store things in the limited cargo hold.

  "She can hold eight. We've got nine people. Captain Gutierrez will remain in his tug. It's going to be cramped in here though." Irons looked around.

  "We'll manage. Ah, Admiral, you make a better door then a window," Mickal politely pointed out. Hastily the Admiral stepped aside.

  "So we're really doing this?" Sergio asked, excited. His mother studied him.

  "You can back out if you want." He shook his head
. She sighed. "I didn't think so."

  "Mama.." he said uncertainly. She held up her hand.

  "You are a man now son. Time you make your own decisions. That doesn't mean I won’t thump you if you screw up though." She glowered at him until he hunched his shoulders. She placed a hand on each shoulder and gripped hard for a moment. He looked up. "I'm proud of you for doing this son. Know that whereever space takes you."

  He hugged her. "I will mama."

  "So, why did the yacht take the Port Admiral on?" Irons looked around the table. Enrique just had to call this meeting six hours before their departure time. He had better things to do honestly.

  Enrique looked away. "He uh..." Doc started.

  "He traded the fuel Sergio delivered the other day for passage for him and his court off the station," Enrique interrupted quietly.

  "He what?" Logan snarled banging a fist onto the table. "You've got to be kidding me! That Valdez kid busted his balls risking life and limb and he doesn't even get a thank you? Hell the fuel could have run this station for a month!" Logan sat back in disgust. "All and all, it is a small price to pay to be rid of him and his followers," Smithy answered, subdued. Logan gave the AI a long look.

  "I didn't expect to hear that from you." He looked over to the Admiral who shrugged.

  "It seems Smithy has had a change of heart. Repairs to his kernel may have had something to do with it." He shrugged. Logan coughed, hiding a smile with his fist. Doc

  looked concerned but he waved it off.

  "That will put us behind on the fuel situation." Logan finally straightened with a scowl. "How far will that effect other systems?" Enrique asked.

  "It's hard to say. Everything is dependent on power, and fuel. If something happens to either then it starts a chain reaction down through the other departments." Logan sighed. "I'll have to check the reserves carefully." He shrugged. "It's not going to matter much if these pirates are real." He looked over to the Admiral.

  "They are," he sighed softly. "I wish they weren't but they are real. I haven't done much with the raw data beyond confirm they have multiple warships and multiple support ships, including a mobile factory ship." He pulled up the data and shunted a copy to the system.

  "Accessing. Here is an image." Smithy projected a holo of the planet and ships. "Accessing database. Unknown ship types." Smithy wrapped each ship with a circle.

  "Enhance on the nearest," Logan said studying the image. "Looks like a freighter. Maybe a Clydesdale from her silhouette. They are, well were, everywhere. Either it was grabbed and used to haul loot or it's a support ship. Check the next." Smithy brought up another image. "Ah, that looks like a system defense ship, most likely a corvette or gunship. Maybe a hunter killer gunship or privateer. Definitely not military grade, but possibly from a colonial defense force. Most likely a parasite craft, it looks a bit small to have a hyper drive. Next." The next three ships were identified as similar ships. One was a Demeter class agricultural ship. "Crap, light stuff and a flying greenhouse." Logan shook his head.

  "It's not the size of the weapon that matters, it's how you use it." Irons said smiling at the irony. Logan chuckled.

  "Yes sir. Even a bee can kill if it has a couple hundred friends nearby. and it's not like we can do much to defend ourselves," Logan sighed. “That big boy though is a different story.” He pointed to a large ship. “Destroyer at least. General purpose by the look of her. Most likely a Denbie or an Anoth class or some clone from a satellite yard.” He grimaced.

  "How are we with the shields?" Doc asked.

  "Not far along. We've got serious holes that could let anyone overload us. Besides, the shields aren't going to help the other colonies much." He waved. Doc grimaced and nodded.

  "We've got a couple pop guns that could be used against a shuttle if it comes in on the right vector. They are little good for anything else." Logan shook his head meaningfully. "No, if we want to survive, we've got to keep them away from the station." He waved his hand through the holo and it vanished.

  "But how can we do that, I mean, we've got a couple tugs and shuttles... but against that!" a comm. tech waved to the holo projector.

  "Can't run, can't hide. Gotta fight. On deadly ground, fight!" Logan shook his head looking down. He looked up to see the others staring at him. He smiled to the Admiral who nodded.

  "Sun Tzu's Art of War. We can't run, there isn't any way to do that. We can't hide, the neutrinos from our power plants give us away. Besides, they know we're here. So we have to fight. It simplifies things," Irons said to the group. "We have to find or build what we need." He looked over to the holo. The projector came back on, this time projecting an image of the Pyrax system.

  The Admiral looked around. "So where is Doc Thorby?" he asked an orderly.

  "Ah, she's ah, in with a group of clients," the orderly said. The doctor had called him down for a face to face several hours after the meeting. Since the parts for the tug and Firefly were still being produced he went willingly.

  "Group?" Irons asked.

  "The cat house is in for its weekly check up Admiral," Sprite informed him. He gave a silent 'oh' of surprise as the orderly left.

  "Well, I guess an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," he shrugged looking around.

  "In medicine or in life?" Sprite asked sounding amused.

  "Bit of both. I bet she's doing it to prevent unwanted pregnancy and unwanted STDs."

  "Well, let it be said that you organics have your own ways of passing unwanted data and viruses. Just what are you looking for?" she asked.

  "Equipment shed, tech support."

  "You don't want to wait in her office? What am I saying, of course you don't. You'd rather get your hands dirty than catch up on paperwork. Down the hall two doors on your right then make a left. Room on the end."

  He chuckled. "That's the spirit."

  He could hear a voice swearing softly and so he knocked. "Who is it? I mean come in!" He smiled and opened the door.

  "Ah, Admiral right? I think you have the wrong room," the tech said looking up to him.

  "No, I came here to lend a hand." He looked around the room. The room was covered in shelves, each packed with broken equipment.

  "You came to help me?" the tech squeaked in surprise. He looked up in awe.

  "Sure, beats waiting in an office doing paperwork and staring at a wall." He indicated the machine in front of the small tech. "MRI right?"

  "Yes sir. You ah, wouldn't happen to have a spare wave guide handy would you?" the tech asked.

  "No, but you can make one with the replicator," the Admiral pointed to the one in the corner.

  "I thought that was for food and drink," the tech said, brows knit.

  "You can do much more with it. Come on, I'll show you." He turned.

  "Upload some simple parts he needs for me will you?" he sub vocalized.

  "Done. Plastics of course," Sprite responded.

  "Good enough." The replicator lit and a part began to form. "This is actually a series four G multipurpose replicator. It can replicate small parts for your equipment or a cup of coffee." He looked down to see the barrels of raw material and hoses hooked to the replicator.

  "Your predecessor knew, you've got a plastic polymer right here." He tapped one of the barrels. The part was almost finished.

  "What is that?" The tech asked. "Oh spirit of space! Is that a cable for a paddle??" Irons nodded. "Looks that way."

  "I thought you were making a wave guide," he said.

  "That's next."

  He walked the tech through the parts menu, replicating some of the smaller easier parts. The tech happily started to put them in bins. The Admiral smiled and went to work on a couple of the more complicated pieces of equipment.

  "Oh my god!" The tech stared at him. Proteus had morphed his arm to repair a dermal regenerator. "I'd heard but never thought I'd see it for myself!" The tech looked awed. "Does it hurt?" he asked concerned. The Admiral shook his head. "How do you know how to fix it?
"

  "The firmware has a basic blueprint and manual. If that is down I can access your WI-FI link." He pointed to the ceiling. "And get the information from the central database." The tech nodded.

  "Can I get one of those?" he asked shyly. The Admiral chuckled.

  "No, the Doc isn't quite up to this level. Yet." He smiled. He sensed a presence in the open doorway. He turned.

  "Hi Casey, come to lend a hand?" the tech asked.

  "Sure, why not?" she smiled. "How you hangin' Harry?"

  "Oh one still lower than the other." He shrugged then smiled as she rolled her eyes. "The Admiral is showing me how to make parts with the replicator."

  He pulled the paddle cable out and looked it over. The replicator began to glow again. "It needs old parts. If you have some beyond repair, I can set it to recycle them or repair them," the Admiral said.

  "Good enough," Harry nodded in approval. They could hear a babble of voices in the hall.

  "Looks like the circus is coming," Casey growled. Harry lunged to the door. "Lech," she smacked him on the arm.

  He grinned. "Doesn't hurt to look Casey."

  "It might when I get through with you," she growled softly. “That's all you'd better do.” The Admiral chuckled. It seems life was getting interesting for the two of them.

  "So what do we have here? The Admiral? Found a broom closet to play in?" A neochimp stopped and smiled at them. She was wearing a toga and bangles on each wrist.

  "Now now Shirley, he's not your type." A woman came up swinging her hips. She was dressed in a tight leather bikini costume and had some outrageous make up on. "I'm Jasmine," she smiled. The Admiral nodded to her politely.

  "She's a descendant of a genie Admiral. Elf and cat mods at a guess," Sprite said.

  "Thanks for stating the obvious," he sub vocalized.

  "Come on, move along," Thorby called.

  "Which?" Jasmine smiled, looking over her shoulder. Doc Thorby sighed as she came into view.

  "Either or, just not here," she replied waving her hands.

  "Jasmine come on, let’s go."

  "Everyone's making suggestions," Jasmine smiled a lurking smile of invitation to the Admiral.

 

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