Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  They were almost done here anyway. Bailey had snagged him to help upgrade some of the electronics now that they had the time. Apparently the chimp didn't like the response time for this deck and had ordered a thorough vetting. They veraxin tech normally assigned to the duty was tearing into the server farm, trying to find an intermittent fault, so he'd been tapped for the duty.

  They were still nearly six days out from Briev. The planet was a pretty blue, white, and green marble that grew on the view screens every day. The crew seemed eager. He on the other hand wasn't so much interested in the planet as he was in it's occupants. He had finally gotten a briefing from Sprite but it was woefully brief and uneducational. Most of it had been taken direct from the encyclopedia Galactica.

  "Almost done Admiral?" the kid with him asked.

  He looked over to him. Nate was short, thin, and dark skinned with a broad nose and white hair. The white hair was either a dye job or more likely a legacy of a gene splice in his ancestry. "Sure Nate, I got this. Why don't you go clean up and report in."

  "Are you sure sir?" the kid asked, looking at the others in the corridor. One was pretty heavily scarred. He flexed a bicep and jerked a thumb at the kid then to the lock. "Yeah."

  He got up and left. Irons jaw tightened as they came closer. One was pounding a fist onto his hand. "Problem here?"

  "Nope. All finished," Irons said pulling his arm out. He made sure not to key the change back to normal until they could see it. He let it hang at his side, morphing slowly back to normal.

  The weasel looking guy, a cargo hauler from the look of him gulped wide, eyed. The other bruisers hung back. Irons closed the lid of the recycler then dogged the hatches. He turned back to the men. "Something on your minds fellas?" There was cool interest in his look and manner. His mind was already getting ready for a fight of some sort.

  "You're an Admiral. What are you doing crap like that for?" the weasel man asked eyes darting around.

  One of the bruisers gave him a disgusted look then went back to staring at the Admiral, arms across his chest.

  "Honestly?" Irons asked, cocking his head and crossing his arms.

  "No, lie to me, if you dare," the man growled sarcastically.

  "Cute," Irons snorted, leaning back against the recycler. "I grew up doing odd jobs like this. It's a little taste of home."

  "But... but..."

  "I wasn't always an Admiral you know," Irons smiled. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm in that, though there could have been. These guys really didn't have a clue. "I'm a spacer brat. I grew up on a freighter. A long time ago I was a wet behind the ears kid on a freighter like this." He cocked his head then shrugged. "I did my bit as enlisted on another ship then enlisted in the navy before I was booted up to officer."

  "Got all the answers smart guy?" the man with the buzz cut asked.

  "No. Hardly," Irons laughed. Three to one. They obviously thought there was some sort of safety in numbers. Did they realize that in the tight confines of this corridor he held the advantage? No, probably not from the look of them. Two of them were spoiling for a fight. The weasel faced guy wasn't. The morph had shook him up a bit. "There is always something new to learn." He shook his head. "For instance, I'm off shift now, you fella's want a work out?"

  "Um, I'm not sure. Ah..." The weasel guy looked at the other two uncertainly.

  "What have you got in mind?" the leader asked. Irons smiled. There was just enough eager anticipation in his smile to make them all suddenly wary.

  "Ain't happening man, this guy will turn you into paste," a fourth guy said, coming up behind them. They turned to look at the little man. "Seriously man," he said, shaking his head. He spread his hands apart. "Me and Mitch on grave saw him doing them martial things with the security people. Even chief Bailey. It's all over the ship man. Didn't cha hear? Don't mess with him unless you want to get hurt."

  "Is that true?" the bruiser with the mohawk asked, looking at Irons.

  "Black belt. Yes. Among other things," Irons admitted, eyes flashing a little. The two bruisers looked at each other. The fourth guy was a bit of a wet blanket. He'd actually been looking for a work out.

  "I think we could take him."

  "Not even on your best day son," Irons said softly with a feral smile. The weasel faced guy gulped at that grin. He looked ready to shit himself. He put one arm on the mohawk guy. The guy shook the hand off angrily. "Even all four of you." He heard footfalls behind him and tried not to react.

  "What's going on here?" a voice with authority asked.

  Irons watched the mayhem in the bullies eyes flare then die. "Nothing, just talking," Irons said over his shoulder.

  "Nothing. Not a thing. Just seeing how he was doing," the weasel man said. His hands were up. He shot Irons a hopeful look.

  "That a fact?" the security guard said, hand on one arm as he passed Irons. He looked them up and down. "Brutus, you know your ass will be in hack and off the ship if you get into another fight," he said to the mohawk character. "And you Jed, you know better, Chili will having you do shit detail for months," he said to the guy with the tattoos on his massive biceps.

  "What are you doing here anyway Admiral?" the guard asked as the men mumbled sullenly.

  "Assigned to fix the electronics in the recycler with Nate," Irons answered, indicating the machinery.

  "Isn't that like below your pay grade?" the guard asked with a sniff.

  Irons spread his hands. "It needed to be done. I'm not crew, I volunteered."

  "Why?" the weasel man asked.

  "I like to keep busy. And I love to get my hands dirty fixing things. Getting things back into shape," Irons said with a shrug.

  "No job too small?" Jed asked amused.

  "There is no such thing as a small job. Everything on a starship needs doing and doing right. Including this." Irons tapped the recycler. "If it doesn't work we get a back up of waste on this deck. That waste can be a problem."

  "Like?"

  "Bacteria? Fungus? Remember that purple mold you had to scrape out of the ship when you first came aboard?" Irons asked. “I for one don't want to have to deal with that crap again.”

  "Hey man, how'd you know that?" the weasel man asked as the others nodded. "You weren't around for that. Right?" he asked, looking at the others.

  "I kept an eye on the ships. And Sprite double checked the records."

  "Oh."

  "If that crap had gotten into the air any more we would have had problems with the health of the crew. The spores would have started to spread throughout the ship and made you sick."

  Jed nodded. "Me and Mitch remembered that. Rings," he said. He scratched his arm.

  Irons winced. He hated infections. "Fungal infection. Not pretty. Tears you up, makes your system vulnerable to viruses and other things," Irons nodded. "So, that's why no job is too small. Why it's important to do it right the first time."

  "Why don't we incinerate it?" the weasel guy said, then looked at the others as they looked down at him. "What? I heard they did that on some ships." He hunched his shoulders and toed the deck.

  "You're right. Some ships did back in the day. Or they microwave it first to kill the bacteria. That's what this is for actually. It cooks the bacteria before we send it on for processing. But we closed the loop. We only incinerate when we don't need it, don't have the power to break it down, and can't store it. And even then, you still have a lot of stuff to deal with. Carbon ash, and a mess to clean out."

  "I ain't cleanin' no incinerator again," Brutus said, wrinkling his nose. "Smells nasty and it's a bitch getting in and out the hatch. Had to do it with a bottle brush. Sucked and it took a double shift. You'd just about fit though." He eyed the weasel, then the Admiral.

  "I doubt I would," Irons said with shrug, rolling his broad shoulders. "But if the chief asks me to, sure. I'll do it. Nothing better to do until we make port."

  "Right."

  "You've got all the answers," Brutus said turning away.

  "Nope,
covered that. But if you want lessons, look me up on the mat. I'm doing a class tomorrow night."

  That had started just after they had exited hyper. It had eaten into his time with April, but it had kept things interesting from his perspective. The classes were small, no more than six at a time. He had so many people interested in it now, some of them not even in security that now he was considering starting a second class to go along with the first.

  The man froze then looked back with a snort. "I just might do that." He shook his head. "Come on fellas, let's let the man get back to work."

  Irons waited until they left. The guard shook his head and wiped his brow. "Damn man, both at once? All four at once?" He looked at Irons. "And it didn't even phase you?"

  "No."

  "Brutus killed a guy in a bar I heard. Years ago. Before Destiny was liberated by the pirates." The big guard had been intimidated. Even armed he'd been afraid of the big bruiser. Irons hid a scowl. It was good to have a healthy respect for one's opponent. But don't let them have the mental advantage or the fight was over before it had begun.

  "Ouch," Irons winced. "I'm surprised the pirates didn't recruit him.”

  “Oh they tried but he said no.”

  Sprite's avatar seemed interested in that. She pretended to write something on a tablet in her virtual hands. Irons pursed his lips, for the moment ignoring her antics. “Surprising. And the other guy?"

  The guard shook his head. "Jed. He's smarter than he looks. Where one goes inevitably the other follows."

  "I've got their personnel files if you want," Sprite said for his ears only. Irons gave a dismissive wave.

  “It might be a good idea for them to work off their extra testosterone in the ring. Channel it. Or do some sort of heavy sport activity. I suggest you pass that on to Chief Chambers or Mr. Notuma.”

  “Who me?”

  “Sure why not?” Irons quirked an eyebrow at the kid. He obviously needed seasoning.

  “Okay, you say so,” they guy said, looking bemused. Sprite put a holo name tag on his left breast. He didn't need it though, he remembered him.

  "Well, I'll just log this then go clean up." He gave the kid a look. "I take it Nate called in the cavalry?" he asked amused.

  The guy was looking down the corridor the way the men had gone. "Huh? Oh, yeah," he shrugged. "Well, someone did at any rate."

  "Well, nothing happened, so it's okay. No harm no foul," Irons said nodding politely to the officer. "Have a good day officer Kitching."

  "Yeah thanks. Ah wait, how'd you know my name?" he asked as Irons walked away. Irons turned and smiled.

  "I remember you from last week's class. Still getting over the bruises?" he asked. The kid nodded. "Good well, the invitation is open for anyone, tomorrow, 1900." He waved and left.

  "Tattle tale," Irons said under his breath.

  "Nate..."

  "No I mean you," Irons said to Sprite. He was sure now who had called in Kitching.

  "Actually it was me Admiral," Defender admitted.

  "Oh," Irons sighed. "Fighting my battles?"

  "That is my programmed duty. Besides, you were assigned a guard. The guard left to go to the bathroom, abandoning his post."

  "Or in this case heading them off before they started a fight," Sprite responded with amusement. "Don't you have a date with April?"

  "Which is why I'm going to go wash up," Irons said with a smile.

  "Admiral about April..."

  "Don't go there," he growled.

  "Admiral she's..."

  "So don't go there," his growl got uglier.

  "Understood. Butting out now," Sprite said with a crisp voice. "But you should be aware she's trying to stay with the you."

  He opened his mouth to object to her insert and then he winced as it hit him. "All right, you told me. I'll deal with it. Go do something else. File something, debug something. Play a video game, I don't care."

  "Aye Aye Admiral."

  "Want to talk about it?" April asked as he speared a piece of meat. He frowned, not really in the mood but trying hard not to sour her mood. He didn't want to affect her in that way. Obviously something was getting through though.

  "Depends on what it we're talking about," he said not looking up.

  She frowned a little at him. "Your close encounter? Or the whole attitude you're starting to have?"

  "I'm getting an attitude?" he asked looking up in surprise. He looked around the room, wincing at the looks some of the people at the nearby tables were giving him. Great, he didn't need that. He tried to school his thoughts to more normal lines.

  "Like the whole world is out to get you? Paranoia?" she asked smiling.

  "Um... I seem to remember a lynch mob a couple of times..."

  "True," she said. She shrugged. "I wasn't in it. Don't take it out on your friends. They will get over it. In time when it dies down, when people get the facts and get over themselves. The question is, will you?"

  He smiled. "Believe it or not, I'm actually aware of negative publicity and it's effects on people. I even took the class." He shook his head.

  "There was a class?" she burbled in amusement, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "I don't remember that on the college syllabus."

  "Not on Anvil. My time," he said sitting back and setting his fork down.

  "Oh," her brows knit.

  "It was a minor college class at the academy. I took it because it was a fast week and the class I had wanted was full. Turns out it's a minor requirement for promotion."

  "It is?"

  "Dealing with the public is something you have to do as an officer," Irons shrugged. "The higher you go, the uglier things can get. Politics can get dangerous."

  "And you took the class to what? To navigate that?"

  "The best way is to avoid it altogether," he said with a shrug. "I would make myself as unavailable as possible. The media called it ducking out, and the Navy's press liaisons weren't happy about it. But if I'm not on camera I can't put my foot in my mouth and make the situation worse."

  "True," she laughed.

  "You're right though. Time is the only thing that will heal wounds like this. Time and knowledge. Considering the level of willful ignorance though..." he grimaced. "My best bet is, well..."

  "To run away from it far enough so people haven't heard it so you can start over?" she asked helpfully.

  He winced. Running didn't sound right. He was retreating under fire until the battlefield cleared. He'd pick his own time to attack. "Something like that," he sighed. "And no, It's not exactly running away. I actually was planning to leave the system in a few years."

  "Oh?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

  "I was planning on going out on Prometheus," he sighed. It wasn't the first time he'd told someone this. It apparently hadn't caught the right, or wrong people. Or they had been too impatient or too dead set on ruining him to wait.

  "Why?" she asked confused. "Wouldn't... I mean aren't you needed at the base?"

  "San Diego? It can be built without me breathing down their necks. Not as fast or as easily, but it can be done." He shook his head. Not really true he realized, but close. With a little juggling and creative engineering Logan should be able to get the project moving forward. Granted not at a very fast pace, but fast enough. The big problem was going to be the power and weapons. "Besides, I had plans for that. That and the defenses of the the other warp points. No, once I was sure Pyrax was secure I wanted a personal look at each system in the area. Remember, I am also the only person who can initialize a replicator."

  "Yeah, so shouldn't you be the last person we endanger? Spirit of space I forgot that!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Isn't that going to mess up the Pyrax replicators?"

  "Just a bit," he smiled.

  "And that will make them regret chasing you out of the system," she said sitting back and chuckling now.

  He held a hand up, fingers about a centimeter apart. "Just a tad. I bet they will be a bit put out over the whole thing when it s
inks in. Most likely it has sunk in by now."

  She grinned evilly. "Ouch. Are you going..."

  "No," he shook his head. Her face fell a little. "Onward and outward as the saying goes. I'm going to find another system or two, or three, and get the ball rolling in each." Her eyes widened. He patted her hand.

  "I told you, I'm serious about the Federation. Getting things back on track is the best way to fight off the pirates and get people working on the future.”

  "And the pirates serve as a nice external threat for everyone to rally against," Sprite said for his ears only. He waved it away with a slight nod and hand gesture under the table.

  "What?" she asked.

  "Sprite putting her two credits worth in. Never mind." He shook his head. "Enough politics. How was your day? Did you get a lot done?" he asked.

  She smiled. "You really want to know?"

  "If it's better than tearing apart a recycler and putting it back together, sure," he grinned.

  She grimaced, wrinkling her nose. "Yeah okay, I'll admit it was better," she said, eyes twinkling. He smiled.

  "See?"

  "Oh you!" she said blushing and dimpling nicely.

  "Well?"

  "You're serious?"

  "As a plasma gun. Let's hear it lady," he smiled sitting up straight then leaning forward, arms crossed.

  She ran fingers through her hair and chuckled softly. "Well I was trying to do more interviews with the captain but that's a dead end so I got into the library and did some research. I was working on background pieces..."

  She smiled wickedly as she slapped his right flank then tried to bolt for the door. He caught her in two steps and started to tickle her mercilessly. There was some benefit to living in such cramped quarters. Well, some, but he liked the chase as much as she did. She shrieked a laugh, then tried to muffle it to giggles as people in the corridor turned to them. He backed her up and she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him to get him to stop.

  It didn't work though, since his wicked fingers were still free. She finally caught them with her own, tangling them together and gripping tightly. He let her push him back, giving only token resistance as they play fought. She snapped her teeth at him, eyes flashing. “I am so going to kick your ass for that.”