Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  "If?" she asked looking confused.

  "IF we focus on an objective, IF we set up the industry and IF we have trained motivated people to follow through," he nodded to her.

  She looked around sheepishly. "Sorry, I keep forgetting." She held up the tablet. "But really! A shipyard?" she asked in disbelief. He chuckled.

  "I've built many before and during the Xeno war. That and much more. Again, IF we play our cards right, I don't see any obstacles to setting up a shipyard within the next two or three years. Oh a small one, a repair slip really, nothing like the major yards," he waved. She nodded.

  "We're already producing small craft," he smiled as he stepped aside to let a pair of techs pass.

  "We are?" she asked, surprised.

  "You sound so surprised. Of course we are!" he waved. "We've repaired all the small craft on the station, and many on the other colonies. Engineering and the Valdez family have built a third tug, and have produced several work pods. I am working with them on building a fuel tender now." He waved to indicate the docks.

  "But that's small potatoes, what I mean is, a starship? Aren't we setting our goals too high?" she asked.

  He chuckled. "It is a start. Besides, we're going to need a dry-dock eventually to keep the starships Pyrax has fully functional." She blushed.

  "But what about this?" she pointed.

  "The planet? What about it?" he asked.

  "Are we really going to do it?" she asked. "Is it even possible?" She sounded concerned.

  He shrugged. “It isn't really my field. I do know it is possible, but I am not sure what your talking about. I've been busy.” She blushed at that. "I understand there are several proposals on the table and being looked at and brooded about. Most are from the archives. I believe a Dr. Genshi is looking into them now.” He tried not to frown. Genshi was a self important physics major. He had dedicated himself to the study of theoretical sciences and had somehow scraped by before. Most likely by having some sugar mama somewhere. He had an interesting hobby though, he wanted to terraform a world here in the system. That alone probably got him a cookie tossed to him now and again, if only to see if he could do it.

  He tried to shake the thought then cleared his throat. “I remember a few of the proposals I ran across before the Carib Queen showed up. There are several plans as I was saying. One is to terraform one or more of the moons to a habitat. Another is to use micro black holes to move a planet into the Goldilocks zone, that's the life bearing zone of the system." He paused.

  She nodded. "Right, and the third is to reform one of the planets. I don't see how." She looked stubborn. He sighed.

  "You'd be amazed what people can do when they put their minds to it. And just think, with a planet it would be easier to grow food, to raise families. No more trying to keep the population in check." He waved to indicate the station.

  "And give our people room to expand and move the excess out. I like it," she nodded. "But what about building more space colonies?" she asked suddenly catching on.

  He nodded. "Good idea. Jot out a proposal and submit it to the next council meeting," he replied.

  She looked shocked. "Me?" she asked, clutching the tablet to her chest.

  "Why not, it's your idea," he asked. She paled.

  "All right, I'll do it," she said, taking up the challenge. He smiled.

  "That's the spirit," he nodded to her. "Carry on." He left.

  "That was interesting," Sprite said. Irons nodded. He passed a tech who looked up with a big grin. She gave him a jaunty salute. She made to congratulate him but her partner elbowed her. She looked down embarrassed. He moved off, amused.

  "Good job. Keep your eye on your work. Keep up the good work," he murmured in passing.

  "That conversation with miss Tracy is already hitting the station grapevine. Wanna bet it will be in Knox's news hour tonight?" Sprite sounded amused. Irons shook his head.

  "Nothing to bet with." He passed another tech who looked a little flustered. "Anything I can do to help?" Irons asked.

  The tech looked up in alarm then gulped. "Ah, no sir, not really, just trying to get a handle on this but I think the chip is busted." He waved.

  Irons looked. "Here let me take a look." He held up his right arm and let Proteus go to work. The tech scrambled back on the seat of his pants eyes wide. Irons turned and smiled.

  "Yup, UART looks good but the BIOS is fried. Also the backup clock battery is dead." His fingers morphed back to normal. He held up his hand. "See? All better," he nodded. "Get the BIOS replaced. It's a pop out. Looks like something corrupted it in its last patch. The battery you can try to recharge. If it won’t charge try swapping it out." He patted the man on the shoulder as he got up and straightened. He looked around to see a crowd watching him. "Back to work folks, nothing to see." He moved off as the tech stammered his thanks.

  "You are a celebrity now. You ought to enjoy it," Sprite said.

  "I was a celebrity in the past, and when I stepped into this bollixed future. I don't want it or need it," he shrugged.

  "If you’re going to rebuild the Federation then yes you do. Admiral, treat it as a tool in your toolbox," Sprite informed him, sounding mulish.

  "Don't be trite," he muttered then sighed. "Okay, I get the idea." He gave in, seeing her avatar on his HUD cross her arms and tap her toes. “But it's we that will do it. WE. You, me, Firefly, and the others.”

  "And you'll listen to momma Sprite more often?" she asked. He glared.

  "Your over playing your hand you know that?" he muttered.

  "Sorry," she answered not looking at all contrite. She sneaked a smirk.

  "Don't do it again," he said shaking his head.

  Irons looked up to Sprite on his HUD and set the file he had been reading aside. A bookmark flashed and then the file faded away. “You look like you're full of news.”

  “I do?” Sprite turned, looking at herself. “And I just had this suit taken in,” she tisk tisked. He chuckled. She hadn't lost a bit of spunk.

  “I've been in the core files and just got into some of the port Admiral's private stash.”

  “Oh?” Irons asked, eyebrow raised.

  “Yes, the usual trash, cronies to trust, blackmail material, contacts, that sort. It goes back for generations. It took me a while to wade through it all. Now I know what you mean by needing a cold shower.” She shivered a little. He nodded.

  “I did find something that is of interest, the Port Admiral's just after the system was isolated kept a running log of which planets and systems survived the war.”

  “Oh?”

  “I cross referenced them with the one Logan set up as well as the one I compiled from Io 11's surviving database and the one her captain turned over to you. There are a few entries that aren't in the others.”

  “Interesting.” Irons nodded. “Show me.”

  Sprite smiled. “I thought you'd never ask.” She flickered then faded out and a holo of the galaxy faded in. “Both sides struck the core worlds hard. Since they were so heavily fortified most were taken out by Nova bombs in the last gasps of the war.” She highlighted the dead zones and then faded them out.

  Blue dots sprang up in a line to Pyrax. “These are the systems we went to with Io 11 to get here. They are confirmed. These...” Green dots speckled the area around that course and extended out into a loop. “These are the ones in Io's databases. Now these..”

  Another group, this time in red popped up. “These are tentative ones from Commander Logan's database.”

  “I see.” There were a few overlaps. He nodded. “Any information on individual systems?”

  “Minimal. He had some clippings but not much. Apparently he got this from second and third hand sources since he wasn't allowed near the docks.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  “And these..” New dots popped up. These are from the Port Admiral's database.” A few were doubled up on others already known. “But again, little or no information about them. What little information we
have is either in the form of contact information or is so out of date it is useless.”

  “But you can cross reference the data with the galactic maps I've got and give me a base line?”

  “Yes. I've already compiled that,” sprite nodded. “And I've added Horath of course.” She highlighted the empire. “Unfortunately we don't have much there.”

  Irons studied it. “What about the places the pirates have been?”

  “Unfortunately their navigational data didn't survive.”

  “Okay.” Irons thought for a moment. “What about cross referencing what we've got from the prisoners and the rescued slaves? For instance we know they were at Agnosta.”

  “Eh... hmmm. Why didn't I think of that,” Sprite muttered. A window popped open and dialog flashed. Names were highlighted then floated to the star map. More systems were highlighted.

  “Well, if their starting point was Horath, here is their most likely course.” A yellow line traced out their path from the empire to Pyrax through Agnosta. “Note they did some zig zags here and here.” She highlighted three worlds.

  “Based on?”

  “Based on the galactic chart Admiral. There is no straight line course to some of these from other colonies. This one has a black hole in the way, and this one has that cluster...”

  Irons waved it away. “Right so without a proper hyper navigator they doubled back. Okay. Are any of these worlds on the previous lists?”

  “Yes all but two. These are new.”

  “And therefore we've added two new systems to the map. Make sure you copy that and your notes to Firefly and CC it to Smithy and the other ships.”

  “Aye Aye admiral,” Sprite responded. “This does give us something else though, Your pointing out that last bit did show us a probable course for Horath pirates to follow.”

  “Yes I was thinking the same thing. We're going to need to secure that route. Or at least find a way to monitor it,” he sighed. “But, first things first.” He shook his head and got up. “Coffee.”

  “And I get to go back to recoding the databases of the entire fleet. Lucky me,” Sprite sounded anything but enthused. “With your permission of course?”

  “Go,” he waved picking up a cup. “Be back by oh eight hundred.”

  “Aye aye Admiral.” He felt her presence shift as his Wi-Fi channels all opened.

  “Back to the wonderful world of paperwork,” he grumbled.

  “Okay, what is it now?” Irons asked as he stretched. He'd really been looking forward to some downtime. A full shift of shuffling papers was enough to drive anyone batty. Well, anyone but a dedicated anal retentive paper shuffler that is.

  “Problem on the station,” Sprite reported. “Technically you're still the commanding officer,” she said before he finished opening his mouth to protest.

  “Reading my mind again?” he asked after a momentary pause.

  “I wish I was that good,” Sprite chuckled. “I can only get an idea based on synaptic activity and past experience.”

  “So what's the problem?”

  “Stand off. The repairs have forced some of the corridor gangs out and into each other's territories. This has been causing friction. About an hour ago it erupted into a full riot,” Sprite answered.

  “Breakage?”

  “Nine dead. Four wounded in sickbay. Thirteen more wounded.”

  “Why aren't they in sickbay?” he asked getting up and adjusting his uniform.

  “Security can't get to them. One of them is a child. I'm getting mixed reports, some say she was trampled by the mob when they panicked.”

  “Great.”

  “It's Matilda's granddaughter.”

  “Crap. I'm going.” Irons moved out.

  “Admiral is this wise?” Firefly asked. He grunted. His jaw tightened.

  “From his bio readings I'd say that he's pissed Firefly,” Sprite reported on a side channel. “When he gets like this it's best to go along for the ride and to pick up the pieces.”

  “Oh.”

  He exited the lock and nodded as a squad of marines in powered combat armor fell into step behind him. “Something on your mind Major?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Just out for a walk with the kiddies sir.”

  “Good,” Irons smiled grimly. Sprite silently fed him the directions to the standoff.

  The entered the bad quarter and he slowed. He looked around. Security was on hand, bandaging a man in armor. He had his arm up so they could get at the underside.

  “Report,” Irons growled. A shot rang out down the darkened corridor. The others flinched. He didn't. He saw the shot strike the bulkhead at the corner. The paint on the wall blistered. His thermals showed him the damage.

  “Shields up Admiral. I do not advise this present course of action though,” Defender reported.

  “Irons ah...” a guard said looking around.

  “Who's in charge?” Irons asked.

  “The sheriff. But he's in sickbay,” a female guard said. She shook her head. A door opened. They turned, guns leveled. A head peeked out then went right back in. The door slammed shut.

  “You've got civilians still on scene?” the major asked. He moved ahead of the Admiral. He peeked around the corner. A shot rang out, splintering the edge of the already cratered corner.

  “Careful, that's how Jax got his,” the woman said, indicating the man getting bandaged. “We've got ten or twelve wounded on the ground there. The gang's bottled up, we've got another squad on the other end cutting off retreat. Smithy has blocked the air ducts with robots to keep them penned.”

  “Right,” the major nodded. “So you’re going to what? Wait until they run out of ammo?” he asked. He winced as the gang began to jeer and scream insults.

  “No I was thinking about pulling back, sealing this sector and then pumping the air out. Or sleepy gas in,” the guard said shaking her head.

  The major frowned.

  “Or you could do your lone ranger sonic thing,” she said, turning to the admiral with a raised gun. He gave her a cool look.

  “Acoustics are bad admiral. There would also be damage to our own personnel and the wounded,” Sprite reported. He grimaced.

  “I'd like to but I can't. I'd do more damage to our own people than to them.” He accessed the station blue prints and zeroed in on the area.

  “It's the Leo gang. They are pissed,” a guard said shaking his head.

  “Leo gang?” Irons asked.

  “Great.” The major grimaced. He turned to the Admiral. “Neo's. In this case descendants of bio-sculpts and genie super soldiers from the AI war. Leo is their leader, he's ah... some sort of cat.”

  “Leo means lion,” Sprite said in his ear.

  “Thank you I know that,” he growled softly. “Warrior society?”

  “Yeah. Leo won it in combat.”

  “Hmmm.” Irons nodded. “I'm coming to negotiate!” he called. He turned to the guard and the major. “Secure the area. Clear out the civilians in this corridor and the adjoining areas. Get your wounded out as well. Then we'll deal with this.”

  He walked to the corner. The major stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Admiral You can't..”

  “I can and I will,” Irons said. He looked around the corner. When no one shot he stepped around it.

  After a moment a dark shape in the shadows began to move. He could barely make it out. A stealthed neo. “Definitely a super soldier admiral, he's not showing up on thermals or night vision at all,” Defender reported.

  Irons grimaced. The neo growled softly but a sharp bark made him freeze. Irons could just make out his slitted eyes and teeth as he grimaced.

  “Come yourself navy?” a low bass voice rumbled. He nodded. A hole in the barricade was made and a male neocat came out.

  He was large, easily filling the darkened space. He was a were, a male humanoid lion. His mane was black, with tints of silver. He had one eye, the other was covered by a patch. White puckered scars ran from his temple down to his mu
zzle on that side. Most likely how he had lost the eye. He flexed the claws on his fingers and then rumbled again.

  Irons cocked his head. “I'd like to clear the wounded,” he said simply.

  “You would would you?” the lion growled. He casually shot a groaning victim. “Why bother?” he asked.

  Irons tried not to snarl at the casual way the neo had murdered the man. Sprite identified a girl, most likely the grandchild of Matilda near the dead man's shoulder.

  “I tell you what. I promise I won’t execute you for that or for any of the previous deaths if you and your people lay down their weapons and come out.”

  “What that?” the gang leader said turning. He spat. “Or that?” He shot another victim. “Or this?” His hand moved. The gun flashed.

  The neuralizer bolt slammed into his shields. They sparked, the bolt arched up to a nearby light, exploding it in a shower of sparks and debris.

  Irons right arm flashed up. It morphed in a millisecond and an answering plasma bolt leapt out and tore the gang leader apart.

  “Yeah. Like that,” he snarled. His hand pointed to the stealthed neo. “Don't try it.”

  The Neo's snarl of rage was cut off as he looked down the barrel of Irons sincerity. His eyes widened. Slowly his hands came down. The gun he had clutched to his chest clattered to the ground.

  “Now. Who wants to piss me off more?” Irons voice thundered out in a roar. “You want to live? Put your weapons down and come out now and I will spare your lives. Piss me off and I'll pump the air out and watch you suffocate.”

  “You wouldn't,” the ninja said softly. Apparently it too was a cat. From the voice it was a male. From the size and profile it was a neo panther.

  “Watch me,” Irons snarled. The fans shut off. Vents closed. The panther looked around.

  After a moment he heard mutterings. A woman came out. She was a leo, but tattooed. She looked down at the male, lip curled then shook her head. She clutched a pair of kits to her chest and moved down the corridor. In a moment others followed.