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Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer)

Page 27

by Hechtl, Chris


  Irons hadn't said anything about it. Ed had apparently laid some sort of trap and whoever the assassin was had seen through it enough to avoid it completely. So much for that Sprite thought. She just wished the Admiral would at least let her know what was going on. That was getting a bit rude.

  The delay in picking up the comet was well worth it, it topped their fuel supply off. Now they had plenty of fuel for the next two jumps. Since the adjoining system was empty that was good. When they were full up the crew wasn't sure what to do with the remaining pile of ice. Instead of venting or dumping the excess material overboard he had them fill the reaction mass bladders as well as additional bladders which he left behind in space.

  “Why?” Bailey asked. He'd come by to see what the Admiral was up to naturally.

  “Why not?” Irons asked amused. He lowered the volume on the music he had been listening to. Hans Zimmerman from the twenty first century. Now there had been an incredible artist. His work was epic and inspiring, even to this day and age. He tapped a control. Bailey looked over his shoulder to see an airlock with a satellite inside.

  “What's that?”

  “Relay satellite. I figured we'd leave one near the jump point. That way we or other people can talk, and Agnosta will know if someone is near.”

  “Ah,” Bailey nodded. “If they don't go and blow the dang thing up.”

  “Which is a warning in a way,” Irons said with a shrug. He'd taken the precaution of loading the little satellite with a daily ping set up to the orbital network around the planet. He'd also hidden a message for any Fleet ship that passed by. When they stripped the satellite for message traffic it would be there for them to find. Of course it was encrypted so only a Fleet officer could open it.

  “True,” Bailey snorted as he watched the Admiral tap a control and the airlock door opened. After a moment the satellite floated out of the airlock and into space. He could just make out it beginning to deploy outside the lock before they lost sight of it.

  “It's outside the ship's shield and falling behind Admiral.”

  “It wont stay put you know, it's going to orbit...” Bailey said. Irons smiled at the chimp. “Or not...”

  “Not. Remember all that excess fuel?”

  “Yeah?”

  The Admiral smiled knowingly. “Guess where some went?”

  “Um...” The chimp's nose wrinkled. He knew, he just didn't like being teased about it.

  Irons pointed to the image of the satellite. Already it's PAM rocket had kicked in, moving it out to it's staging area. Antenna arms were unfolding like spidery legs. Sensors on truss arms were also unfolding and coming to life. Finally arms with solar panels were unfurling. The little satellite was quadrupling in size, no longer a compact bundle. “She's got a full tank. Strap on tanks too. Sprite cooked up a semi smart computer system that can refuel on the fly from those bladders we dropped.”

  “Which I take it was the reason to drop them?”

  “Well, that and the fact that it's a good idea. We can refuel in a hurry if we need to do so. Like, say if we're running back this way for some strange reason....”

  The chimp nodded. His face cleared but he still had a bit of a sour pucker around his mouth. “Like our tail is on fire, or a pirate on our tail? Yeah gotcha, I ain't dumb.”

  “I never said you were chief.” Irons patted him on the back.

  “Admiral you have an appointment in thirty minutes,” Sprite said a few hours later. Irons looked up from the book tablet he had been reading and sat up. Sprite had lowered the volume of the piece he had been listening to to talk to him. That had gotten his attention right away. It was another epic piece by Zimmer, this time a theme song from a long forgotten movie. Something about revenge. Avenge, something or other. What ever. The title really didn't matter now. The song however had really stuck to him, it's epic sweeping sound, full of spirit and heroic passion. It was one of his favorites, one he'd kept since his childhood.

  With the last little thing done on his itinerary he didn't have anything left to do. Bailey had engineering well in hand and most of the crew were doing preventative maintenance or make work. Since he'd soured Bailey's mood today with his little satellite he'd taken the opportunity to get some downtime in his new quarters. They weren't much, but at least they were clean.

  “I do?” he asked confused. He had finished with his plans and the ship was about to jump into hyper. What now? What was Sprite trying to pull? A diversion?

  “Yes. With a Miss O’Neill. April O’Neill, Knox news.” Sprite sounded smug.

  His nose wrinkled. Oh, hell. He should have known she would try something like this. Diversion indeed. “A reporter?” Irons growled. He'd known one had been aboard, but he hadn't seen her beyond a few flashes of red hair and a bright yellow duster the lady wore. He'd tried to avoid direct contact. Fortunately by staying in engineering country he had.

  “It would appear so,” Sprite said with a little chuckle. “Knox sent her out on this historic voyage of discovery. I think it was mainly to get her out of his hair.”

  “Oh wonderful. I'm curious as to why I haven't run into her before though.”

  “That's because she's been requesting an interview but you declined,” Sprite said dryly.

  “I did? I don't remember anything of the sort Sprite,” he growled. “And FYI I don't like being manipulated you know.”

  “Who’s manipulating you? I usually send an excuse since you are normally busy in engineering and she takes it with good grace. This time I don't have one.” Her virtual image shrugged helplessly. He frowned. Okay, she had him there. Damn.

  “Ah. Great,” he said. So much for not having anything to do. Engineering had been running like a Swiss watch and he'd tied himself up for a while on projects to help the people of Agnosta build. He was currently waiting for his replicator to finish a tray of parts for his next project. He checked the time on his HUD. It wouldn't be done for another hour and a half.

  “Simple interview Admiral,” Sprite said soothingly. “She's agreed to keep it on the level. No ambush tactics, no fire and brimstone preaching against you. Nothing in post either.”

  “Just the facts you mean,” he chuckled. Knox news made it's reputation with straight talk and unbiased reporting. It was one of the reasons he favored them over anyone else.

  “I'd say so. I think it would be advisable to keep the press on your side. If that means putting up with questions then it's a small price to pay to get your side of the story out.”

  “It's not a story, it's the truth,” he growled, straightening his uniform. Expert hands checked things over. He turned, feeling self conscious as he checked himself in the narrow mirror on the wall. It was cracked, but it was still useable. He was fine. He was in his day coveralls, he had no intention of dressing up for this.

  “I know that. You know that. She probably knows that. But there are shades of the truth that people see. You can be as honest as you want and people will still think you've got something to hide. No one is that honest; remember that saying?”

  “Yeah. I do,” he sighed. “Where is this anyway?”

  “Rec deck. She reserved a private eating room for you and her.”

  “Oh lovely,” he grunted.

  He found the room easily enough, it was in an adjoining compartment off the main rec room. He'd seen them but never bothered using any until now.

  Sprite directed him to the third room and he knocked. The hatch opened immediately. He paused, taking in the scent of lilac perfume and the smiling redhead in a yellow jumper before him.

  “Miss O’Neill a pleasure. I'm sorry we've had to put this off until now,” he nodded to the buxom redhead who smiled at him and shook his hand. He bowed over the hand then released it gently as she blushed.

  She was freckled, with an almost china white complexion that spacers can get. She was wearing a fetching yellow one piece jumper with all sorts of pockets. It was almost a skin suit, it was so tight, clinging to her skin. Of course she had t
he zipper down a bit, just enough to expose some cleavage. “How are you doing Admiral?” she asked with a winsome smile.

  “Better now that things have slowed down,” he replied smiling back in return. She indicated the chair opposite her, so he sat. The hatch door closed behind him automatically.

  She tapped the tablet in front of her and then smiled, all professional from the very beginning. Interesting Irons thought as he watched her go to work. “I'm speaking with Admiral Irons of the Federation Navy, now in exile on Destiny,” she said looking over to the hovering camera robot.

  “It's Fleet Admiral,” he said clearing his throat.

  “I'm sorry?” she said looking to him.

  “Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons.”

  She blinked at him, taken aback. “Is there a difference?”

  He chuckled softly. “A grade. There are six grades of Flag rank. Admiral is fourth, Fleet Admiral is fifth.” He tapped his collar to indicate the five gold stars there. Normally a flag officer wore the pips on shoulder boards. He'd taken a bit of liberty with his uniform design by preferring the understated collar pips over the broad showy shoulder boards.

  “Fifth? What is the highest?”

  “Grand Admiral,” Irons replied with a shrug. “That is the person responsible for the entire Federation Navy.”

  “Which you were doing. Shouldn't you be a Grand Admiral then? Or would have been?” she asked, sitting back.

  “No,” Irons shook his head. “To become Grand Admiral you have to be voted on by the Federation Senate and receive approval of the executive. Right now we are still getting there.”

  “Yes. I see,” She nodded, glancing to the camera then back the Admiral. She crossed her legs and then tapped her fingers.

  “You have implants?”

  “Of course. I and just about everyone in the military have implants. It is a requirement. Along with regeneration, rejuvenation treatments, a minimum education, and the clean bill of health that the medics make sure you have,” he explained.

  Her sea green/blue eyes went wide. “Wow. I always thought about regen... quite an incentive.”

  The Admiral shrugged. “Regen tech is expensive. It is an incentive to get good people, and to retain them if possible. Usually regen is only offered to someone on their second or third tour of duty. The lifer's in other words. It is an investment in their future as well as the military's.”

  “Ah,” she nodded. “Quite a sugar coating,” she smiled.

  “It's not all fun and games. We do earn it.”

  “How does the Navy manage it's pay now that you... I'm sorry, they are rebuilding?”

  He tried hard not to clench his jaw. He wasn't sure if that particular peccadillo had been aimed or not. “Well, first off, I'm not out of the Navy, I am just on my way to set up a new station. I had planned on going out on Prometheus in a year. This accelerated that plan.” He shrugged as she nodded and smiled a little. “Second, there are several ways the Navy handles it's budget. Currently in Pyrax, four come to mind.”

  “And those are?” she asked, tapping a stylus on her bottom lip as she put a tablet in her lap.

  “Well, one the mining of asteroids. By doing this ourselves we provide most of our raw materials. We can sell excess materials to smelting companies at a profit.”

  She nodded. From her expression he was pretty sure she had done her homework and had already known this. What she was doing was putting him at ease and laying the ground work for future questions with background material. That was the hallmark of a professional, which was good. He cleared his throat. “Second we can lease replicators for company use.”

  “Shouldn't that be a government thing?” she asked.

  “No, the equipment is Navy issue, we made it, we use it. We just lease time to make things with it. Like this ship for instance. It was captured from pirates and inducted into the Navy as a reserve vessel. It is under lease to the Pyrax government right now.”

  “Oh.” She blinked. That bit about Destiny had caught her off guard apparently.

  “Third, we lease dry dock facilities. We can either allow outside contractors to use the equipment, or charge for our own people to do the work.”

  “Interesting.” She smiled invitingly. She had a nice smile he realized.

  “And the fourth is the most controversial. At least in Pyrax. The government has reformed the basic tax system and reformed old tax codes and closed tax shelters.”

  “There were taxes before?” she asked blinking.

  He smiled at such an obviously simple question. “Of course. People paid for their space, paid for their food, their air, the heat, power, water...” He shrugged. “A part of that went into the function of the station or colony to keep it running of course.”

  “Oh, of course,” she nodded thoughtfully.

  “But it was horribly mismanaged,” he shook his head. “There was a great deal of graft and corruption, and there were unfortunately those who used loop holes to get out of paying, or flat out refused to contribute.”

  “The poor and destitute you mean,” she said, eyes flashing. He shook his head.

  “No. Oh they didn't contribute as much as they could, but there were plenty of rich fat cats who were at the top and didn't pay anything. Cronyism at it's finest. Or lowest I suppose,” he scowled.

  “I have always been curious about how we ended up with so many rich people on Anvil.”

  “Greed,” Irons shrugged. “For some, they or their ancestors struck it rich in mining, or salvaging and then grubstaked others at a high interest rate. Some were technically predatory lenders.”

  “Ah.”

  “A few offered essential services that were hard to do. Such as Doctor Thornby. She is a brilliant doctor.”

  “Yes, yes,” she nodded. One hand flicked through her hair. “About your leaving, and the events afterward...”

  “Sure,” Irons nodded sitting back and trying to appear relaxed. His jaw tightened a little though.

  “You were exiled for the alleged crime of...” He held up his hand.

  His eyes flashed. She should have known better than to ask him or to have brought it up like it was legitimate. It hadn't been. It had been a terrorist act, pure and simple. “I was categorically not exiled. I was given a choice by a group of terrorists. Leave the system or twenty thousand innocent men women and children would die. What would you do in my place?” he asked.

  She blinked at him. He smiled sadly. “I didn't know those people. But I am sworn to protect the innocent if possible. As I pointed out before, I had planned on leaving the system in a year. This was just on a... more...” He wrinkled his nose. “I would say uglier tone than I would like.” He knew damn well it was going to haunt him. It was going to undermine his every step, which was a problem.

  “I see,” she said soberly, nodding.

  “By now I believe you have seen the video from my implants, as well as any evidence Sprite dumped onto the net. So we don't need to belabor the point about the charges being alleged or not. They are flat out lies to dishonor me. I won't stand on it miss.” His eyes locked onto hers.

  She straightened, suddenly uncomfortable under his intense gaze. “Ah. I am sorry,” she said as his eyes flashed at her. “I ah, don't ah...”

  “About the events afterward,” he said, making an effort to move on and let her off the hook. He shrugged a little, trying to relax. “Yes there was a virus to destroy the ship. I can't get into the particulars, there is an ongoing investigation after all. You will have to ask the chief of security for more details. I would speculate that it is tied to me, to make sure I am permanently removed, but I do not know that for sure since I'm not sure of any evidence linked to motive beyond the Vesta incident. It is after all, just speculation at this point with little to support the supposition,” he grimaced.

  “It would have destroyed the ship?” she asked, eyes wide.

  He nodded. “Yes. I don't know much about the particulars, I would suggest you interview those
who do. Such as Commander Sprite or the engineering staff involved in the repairs.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Sprite said in his ear. He knew that she knew that he was just getting her back for making him go through with this.

  “Ah, I'll ah, do that,” O’Neill said, glancing down to her notes. She scrolled down with the tablet then looked up. “There were other incidents though?”

  “Yes several. Again, I can't get into particulars, but they were all aimed at me or Chief Bailey. Motive is again, speculative.”

  “Sounds like you don't have much to go on. A real mystery,” she grinned. He snorted. She raised an eyebrow in query at that. He shrugged.

  “I remember there were cruise ships that had themes like this to keep the crew going. For some it was interesting, for others they took it far too seriously and it caused major problems for the staff of the ship.” He shrugged. “I will be happy when the people responsible are caught.”

  “People plural?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I can't get into the suspect list. But yes there may be more than one person involved.”

  “Ah,” she nodded. “I take it there are steps to prevent a problem?” she looked around, suddenly a little nervous to be in his presence.

  “A little tense about getting caught in the crossfire?” he asked with a soft chuckle. She nodded. “I'll say yes, we have under taken steps to catch the criminal. That however is all I can say without giving anything away.”

  “Ah. I see,” she nodded. She glanced down then set the tablet aside. “So what are your plans now?”

  “Well, Destiny will be checking out four systems. Three are inhabited. Agnosta is as you know, behind us since we shall be leaving the system soon, so that leaves Briev and Triang. I doubt I will be remaining in Briev, it is a medieval style colony. So most likely I will be getting off in Triang.”

  “Wait you said four correct?”

  “Yes four. There is an empty system in between Agnosta and Briev. It is a cross roads, with four jump points. It is actually on the path to the Horath Empire.”

  “Really? Is there a chance we might run into pirates?”

 

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