He studied the crowd covertly as they walked. The arrival of Firefly had shaken people out of their doldrums. Doc had informed him there had been a brief rash of suicides prior to their mission, but now people were beginning to feel hope. He nodded politely to a few who waved as they passed. He was hoping they had some ideas to contribute.
"Harris! Dan! Where have you been??!" A voice out of the crowd made both Dan and Harris freeze, shoulders hunched. Together they turned. Irons turned as well, curious.
"Oh...my... god..." Sprite said then started to giggle.
The crowds parted around a man dressed like a Prussian peacock or clown. His costume had naval overtones however. Irons wasn't sure what to think. He had an elaborate peaked cap, with gold trim.
A meter long feather was on one side over the left ear. His collar was stiff and tall, almost to his ears. It opened to a hairy chest. His shoulders were covered in elaborate gold and silver threaded shoulder boards, they stood out from each shoulder by a good ten centimeters.
His jacket was white, festooned with gold and silver braid, medals of all sorts and the jacket arms were covered in tiger striped hash markers and rockers. Irons shook his head.
He wore white pants, again covered in rockers. His belt, sword, and glittering gun holster were overkill. Sprite's avatar circled the man as he talked quietly with Dan and Harris. She circled the peacock, hands on her hips then struck a pose and rubbed her jaw.
"You know..." she traced a finger over the glittering medals. "I really don't know what to think. Flashy." The man's sword flashed through her avatar and bumped someone. The man cursed then dodged.
"Is he wearing high heels?" Sprite asked, studying his feet. "He is! Must be to compensate for his height. You organics are always doing things like that," the AI sniffed. The shoes were covered in silver glitter, and were definitely high heels. The toes bulged out like clown shoes. Irons felt his jaw tighten.
"So where the hell have you two been? I've been waiting for our usual game!" the man whispered.
"Don't you listen to Knox or anything? We're in the fleet now, the real fleet," Dan whispered. He looked over to Irons who looked away. "That's the Admiral."
"What like the new Port Admiral? Or is he another player? I think I can take him." The man started to swagger up to Irons but Harris grabbed his arm. "Can it you dolt, he's the real deal. FLEET Admiral Irons. Yeah, the real one." The man's eyes widened comically.
"You are kidding. For real? Oh this I gotta see." He smiled and bowed to the Admiral then came to a semblance of parade rest. Irons turned back to him eyebrow raised.
"I'd like to volunteer Admiral." Irons turned to Harris whose face was flushed in red, clearly embarrassed. Dan looked a little pale.
"You're a member of Harris and Dan's group?" Irons asked.
"I am. I'm one of the better members," the man said proudly, striking a pose. Harris sighed. The man rounded on him. "Hey, I beat you remember?" he growled.
"Only cause you had a dreadnought and I had a destroyer." He looked over to Irons and shrugged looking guilty. "It was a stupid bet, besides, I was kinda hammered at the time." He turned a glare on Dan who was trying not to smile. "That and someone had a hand in giving you the dreadnought and putting me up to the fight."
Dan laughed. "Dude, you should have seen your face though! It was so worth it." He pointed an accusing finger at Harris who irritably pushed it away.
"So you're into tactics?" Irons asked.
"Yes Admiral. Xelford Slythern the third at your service." He bowed once more. The crowd had parted around them, but several people were staring.
"He's a tailor," Dan stage whispered to Irons.
"Fashion designer," Xelford corrected with a smug expression, then struck a pose, chin lifted.
Irons shook his head. "Well Mr. Slythern, we do not have many openings for tailors, the fabric extruders do most of the work." He shrugged. Slythern looked a little crestfallen.
"I don't think you'd like going into combat, and I couldn't justify the risk son," Irons said.
Slythern paled then nodded. "You are really doing it? Going into combat? Against who?" he asked turning around. "With what?" he asked. Irons shook his head with everything going on how could the guy be this clueless?
"We've salvaged Firefly. She's taking on stores and making repairs now. As to who, well, there is a group of pirates that may be coming. We're trying to get ready," Irons explained patiently. Slythern looked over to Harris and Dan for confirmation. Both nodded. He paled even more.
"Oh, count me out then, I don't think I could do much then. I mean." He shrugged helplessly. Irons nodded.
"A naval career isn't for everyone. It's hard work," he smiled politely.
"Oh well, perhaps in another life. I have a customer to see to." The peacock turned and then walked off stiffly. His coat tails dragged on the floor behind him.
"Talk about a walking fashion disaster. Still, that would be interesting for a mess dress uniform don't you think? Should I put in an order?" Sprite sounded amused.
"Oh shut up," Irons sighed then shook his head chuckling. "Anything else you gentlemen think I should know?" He gave the two men a look. Both shook their heads looking extremely embarrassed.
Irons looked around the room and nodded to a Veraxin in the corner. The insectoid alien was rail thin, his purple tinted chitin shone in the lights of the conference room. It was odd seeing a Veraxin wearing a duster and American west style cowboy hat though. The Veraxin had an odd neck. It was stiff, made of two sections with one joint connecting them. The small head was on the tip. The neck bent like an elbow joint, just up and down instead of in and out. It could be disconcerting to those not used to seeing it.
A horn stuck out where the usual human upper lip would be. It went out nearly 10 centimeters then ended in a hammer shape. There were a few mended cracks in the alien's chitin exoskeleton. Obviously he had seen a lot of combat since his last molt.
"Sheriff Trac?" Irons asked. The alien uncrossed his upper arms and pulled a cigar out. He put it in his mouth, then lit it with his thorax arms.
"That's me. You the Admiral?" He looked the Admiral over.
"Yes," Irons nodded. The alien was hard to read, he had two sets of multicellular eyes that constantly moved around his head. A pair of feather like whiskers rose out where his nose would be on a human, up to touch the hat brim. His mouth was split into multiple mandibles. One was partially missing.
"I'm the sheriff in these here parts." He took a puff on the cigar and looked the Admiral over. "What's it to you?" he asked. His head bobbed up and down a little. Irons shrugged.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On whether I think you’re going to work with me and are honest." He looked at Enrique who nodded. The sheriff studied the exec then flicked ash off his cigar.
"That a fact?" he said. Irons couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The Veraxin moved his thorax arms again, opening the duster to expose his gun belts. His lower hands flexed.
"I wanted to talk to you about your bully boys. Sorta clear the air," the Veraxin said then chittered. Irons brow knit. Sprite fed the chitter into his universal translation then highlighted a curse word on his HUD.
"That's not polite," Irons said softly looking at the sheriff. "I don't like being called names." His voice dropped into a warning growl. The Veraxin froze then looked at him with all four sets of eyes.
He chittered again. Irons eyebrow raised as Sprite translated. "Let's keep it clean Trac. Leave my family out of it," he replied in Veraxin, then watched as the Veraxin's mandibles went slack, knowing the shot went home. The cigar fell from his suddenly nerveless pincers.
"Well I'll be doggone, you do speak the mother tongue." The Sheriff picked up his cigar and stubbed it out.
"What's this about my bully boys? I don't remember having any," Irons said.
"You know, the guards," the Veraxin waved a three fingered lower hand.
Irons frowned. "Don't they repo
rt to you?"
"No, they reported to that stooge Mengela, but he left with the Port Admiral," the sheriff said. Irons looked over to Enrique who shrugged.
"All right sheriff, they are your problem now."
The sheriff froze again. "What am I supposed to do with them?" he asked.
"Train them as peace officers. Weed out the undesirables. I want the entire force turned around by the time I get back. We don't just need guards, we need peace keepers, true officers," he nodded. "Deputy sheriffs if you will."
The sheriff tipped his hat brim back. "Well I'll be." He chittered a laugh. He crossed his upper limbs. His lower limbs rested on his first set of hips. Irons gave a tight lipped smile.
"Work with Smithy, the exec, Matilda, and Judge Farley. Get them sorted out. Turn the guard duty crap over to the drones as they become available. Draw recruits from the general population as well, even the more honorable gangs if you think you can rely on them." He looked over to the exec then back to the sheriff. "Do you have a forensics lab?" he asked.
"Forensics? No."
"Then set one up. Work with the college. Start small. Make sure your people know constitutional and station law and start enforcing it properly. Work out a salary and budget for the peace officers and the corrections officers. No more protection rackets." He locked onto the sheriff. It was hard to remain focused, his eyes were orbiting still. The head bobbed up and down on the stiff neck.
"I getcha. I'll clean em up. This one horse town ain't big enough for all them varmints," he nodded and left.
"Western fan?" Irons pointed his thumb in the direction the sheriff left.
"How'd you guess?"
Irons dodged a work party and looked over to see Mayweather waiting by the lock. "Admiral a word?" she asked tightly. He nodded.
"Follow me." He nodded to the guard. She reluctantly stepped aside. "This way," he motioned. Mayweather looked around the inside of the ship.
"Attention on deck! Flag arriving!" Firefly intoned.
"Knock it off Firefly, we've got work to do," Irons waved.
Mayweather looked shocked. "An AI?" She looked at the Admiral as they entered the main bay.
"Several actually, Firefly is the ship AI." He motioned her to follow. They ducked around techs frantically working on EPS conduits. The Admiral murmured encouragement, patted a few on shoulders then left.
"We're going to the bridge, then the captain's wardroom," he said, stepping into a lift. She stepped up to follow hastily as the doors closed. "Bridge," he said.
She turned to him. "Admiral, I want in," she said simply.
He nodded. "You are ready to accept a commission?" he asked. She looked thoughtful.
"Bridge. Access granted," Firefly intoned. A green light on the access panel lit and the doors opened. Controlled chaos reigned.
"Looks like everyone's been busy," Irons said nodding in appreciation. “Good, good." He dodged a cleaner robot then looked at the ops panel. "Looking good, I'd say at least another shift till we can heave too and start out on a shake down."
"You concur Firefly?" he asked looking up. Work on the bridge had subsided as people turned to him.
"I'd say that's about right Admiral, they're green but willing," Firefly's avatar responded. Irons nodded. He turned to see Mayweather studying the bridge and crew. It took a moment for it to sink in that it was a professional gaze, with a subtle hint of command in her pose and manner. He nodded again.
"Very well, carry on," he nodded then turned and motioned to Mayweather to precede him out. As they exited they could hear the babble of conversation begin to pick up. Irons smiled.
"You did that on purpose," she accused smiling. “To really sink the hook in and keep it that way.”
He gave her a look then small shrug. "This way." He led her around the back hall to the wardroom. "In here." The door opened and he entered. She followed.
She came into a replenished room carpeted in navy blue, with a deep mahogany conference table in the center. Around the table plush black leather chairs and various displays were the norm. She looked around the walls and lightly touched a plaque.
"Gunnery exercise," Firefly responded.
She turned with a start to see the Avatar behind her. "I thought you were on the bridge?" she demanded. The avatar smiled.
"In a sense Firefly is everywhere, since this, the ship is his body," Irons waved. She nodded. "Right. Can we talk? In private?" She looked at the AI. “No offense.” The AI looked at the Admiral. He shrugged.
"You'll get used to it. Can you get me a current ops list and schedule a meeting for an hour from now?" he looked at the AI who nodded.
"Aye aye Admiral." It winked out.
"You get used to that too," Irons smiled as Mayweather tried not to flinch. "Coffee?" He held up a pot.
She shook her head. "No, yes, I don't know." She sighed. He chuckled.
"It is a bit much to be tossed into the deep end."
"There's the voice of experience for you." She sighed again, shaking her head and then looking at the other plaques. He poured a pair of cups then placed one at the head of the table and another at the exec's seat.
"Sit." He pointed to the chair. She smiled and sat.
"So, you want in?" he asked, taking a sip. She took a sip and grimaced. "It's the pure quill, if you want sugar or cream, they're over there for the taking." He waved to the food replicator. She got up and adjusted her drink, then sat back down.
"Yes, to answer you, I want in. I want to do something other than sit in a station waiting to die," she gushed.
"And?" he asked sounding amused. One eyebrow was raised.
"And... well I want to do more then be a station hand. I'm a trained spacer, I've served on a bridge, I know what I'm doing. I've been a spacer since I could walk. I've been an engineer, navigator, I can do it." She shrugged. He nodded hiding a grimace.
"You want a commission?" he asked. She nodded.
"Janice is a helmswoman. Due to her experience I've offered her the rank of second Lieutenant. She accepted it. She's got her own shift, five coxswains in training. We'll have a round dozen when we're through I hope."
She nodded looking thoughtful. "So based on experience I'd be a captain?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Hardly. Just because you have experience in engineering and navigation doesn't show you have command potential, or tactical experience. You do have chutzpa and initiative, I'll give you that,” he said smiling.
She frowned. "You need both to get there. Also proven leadership ability and a stiff spine among many other things,” he explained. “What department do you want?" he asked.
"I'm... well, I can do either," she sounded petulant. He nodded.
"Okay, well, let’s see if you can handle executive duties. If you can show command potential, and handle yourself in a sim or two, we'll see."
She frowned then her brow smoothed. "Sim? I did them all the time. Janice and I did a few combat sims. I didn't like the fighter pilot ones, the capital ship ones were more my speed. They were more fun."
He chuckled."Then you'll fit right in. Why don't you get what gear you have and I'll log you in as a first lieutenant. Spend two hours settling in and then we'll set you up with a couple sims to see how good you are," Irons smiled.
She stood. "I can do that. I'll run rings around any AI opponent," she sniffed. Irons chuckled.
"We'll see about that," he waved. "Dismissed. If you need anything, tell Firefly," he said as she went to leave. She paused and nodded.
"Admiral." He looked up. "Thanks," she said from the doorway.
"We all deserve a second chance. Make this a good one and you will build a career and become a legend," he said looking at her. She froze then smiled.
"A legend huh?" she chuckled. "I'll have to think about that one." She waved as she left.
"Well, that was interesting," Sprite said.
"That it was. Think she's any good?" Irons asked.
"Well, judging from her scores in tactical
sim twelve and Federation navy sim nineteen, not bad. Solid grasp of her ships limits, crafty, and not at all a frontal assault stylist."
“When did she...”
“On the station while we were out,” the AI replied before he could finish. “Do you want to see her records?” The Admiral nodded.
The AI dumped the records onto a window on his HUD. He looked them over for a moment then nodded. She had guts, patience, and knew when to take risks and when not to. She looked like she had the eye. "Good, give her three of the academy entrance sims. Maybe have Harris run her as an opponent in the last?" he asked.
Sprite's AI grinned. "That will fix them both," she chuckled. "I like it. He wins she gets taken down a peg. She wins and he gets taken down a peg. Either way it will give them experience they won’t forget."
"I'm glad you approve," Irons said chuckling. "I think she'd be good as Logan's exec. If she can handle it and shows command potential, then maybe that back up corvette if we have time for it," he said.
"What about Harris?" Sprite asked. Irons shook his head.
"He's good with tactics, but lacks real world experience, and his social skills are atrophied. I'd say he needs some seasoning before he can get to command track," Irons shrugged. “Lets see if he can handle a few watch rotations on his own and then go from there.”
Firefly came up. "Agreed. He just started to chew out a tech until I intervened. It wasn't the tech's fault. He's green."
Irons grimaced. "Anything I need to take official notice of?" he asked with a sudden cool look. He didn't like someone misusing their authority. Power trips and brow beating others under you wasn't what the rank was there for.
"No, at least not yet. Let’s see if my latest pointer gets through to him. He's learning, but it takes time," Firefly responded. Irons reluctantly nodded.
"All right Lieutenant Mayweather, we're going to run you through a series of additional training exercises to get a read on your potential. The first is a fighter command."
Mayweather frowned. "I'm not into fighters," she said. “I already told the Admiral that.”
"It is to assess your potential for independent command and initiative among other factors. Just try it," Firefly explained patiently.
Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 35
