Ghost Station (The Wandering Engineer) (48 page)

The
admiral nodded grimly, eyes flashing. “Right. The IG's office was finally given
its head and they did a full investigation. AI tore into the electronic
records. Ships were stopped and inspected. What they found were people being
forcibly enslaved and it all ran back to the Salamander government.”

“Which
they tried to deny of course,” Sprite said amused. “They attempted to say it
was made up but recordings were brought forth during their congressional trial.
They were found guilty by a near unanimous vote.”

“What
happened to them?” The chief asked.

“They
were interdicted for a millennia. Since they had mortgaged a great deal it was
crippling. They were given a year for all of their people to return to their
home world and two largest colonies. Their space systems were sold off to pay
reparations, their fleets were sold off, and their planets were stripped of any
technological device. A lot of people and corporations who held their mortgages
were hammered by the deal. They were stripped to bedrock. No factories, no
power plants, nothing above nineteenth century tech.”

“Ouch,
now that's got to hurt,” O'Mallory said.

“Right.
Once the deadline expired they were forcibly kept there. No space travel, no
contact with the outside universe. The navy had monitoring satellites and a
patrol to check on them.”

“Which
is where you come into this story,” Sprite said amused.

“What
about you?” O'Mallory asked, turning to the AI and then to the admiral.

“Oh
this was before my time. Way before,” Sprite said smiling. O'Mallory turned to
Irons once more.

“I
was a jig. I... I was on Barracuda, a light cruiser assigned to the patrol.
Captain Kelsie of the Seahorse was relieved when we showed up,” he said.

“What
happened?”

“We
were told to go in a pattern. One to another in a circuit patrol. Captain
Zephram nodded politely then after Seahorse had jumped out he set up his own
random pattern,” he said then smiled evilly.

“Caught
someone?” Blackhawk asked amused.

“On
the third jump. Smugglers. They had diddled the watcher sats so they could come
and go when Seahorse wasn't around. They knew her routine cold, right down to
the tick. I don't know what they were trying to accomplish but they were caught
and I was sent over to her as prize crew to return the ship to base.” He
shrugged. “And that ended my close call with the Salamanders.” He didn't bother
mentioning that he'd had a stiff return voyage. The crew had mutinied half way
back to base. They had known the penalty for breaking interdiction and hadn't
wanted to face trial. Half of them hadn't survived to get to base.

Esmay
moaned, laying against her folded arms. “My head hurts. We went from biology
to...”

“I
know I know,” Irons laughed, hands up. “That's how things run sometimes. Let's
take a break folks and get some chow.”

The
admiral smiled to the class. Things were going about where he expected. He'd
picked up their discussion right after dinner. He'd subtly guided the
discussion to the military. He wanted to lay a seed there in their minds and
had carefully prepared for this moment. They had been talking about the
military for some time now. Time to do some planting he thought. “Equality of
opportunity not equality of outcome. Anyone of any gender can apply to enter
the fleet military. But, they have to meet the minimum basic standards for
their species to get in to boot camp and then go through training. There is no
guarantee they will pass.”

“I
take it some don't have the mental or physical ability?” O'Mallory asked.

“No,
not just that,” Irons said to the class.

“Like
women.”

“Hey,
don't hold women to that buster. At least all women. We're not all made of
glass,” a  tough looking female near the back growled.

He
snorted as some of the ladies nodded grimly while others glared at the males in
the class. More than one hapless male raised his hands in surrender. “Actually,
in some species the
females
are bigger and stronger than the males. But
there are slim cases where the standards are lowered to get in, but you have to
eventually pass the exams.”

“Ah.
Oh,” the kid said, now looking dubious.

“For
instance now,  you want to get in, we need the volunteers, but the standard of
living and education is so poor we have to take what we can get. We've lowered
the bar of entry, but you have to meet it eventually.”

“Ouch.”

“Not
a nice way of putting it I admit, but it's the truth. I don't believe in
pulling punches and lying to people to shield them from the truth. Need to know
and all that. No point in leading someone on if they don't have the mental
ability needed,” he explained.

“Oh,”
that came out as a thoughtful note.

“You
mean in your time. Not now,” a tech said, looking amused. He looked at his
friends around him and then back to the admiral.

The
admiral however shook his head in denial. “No I mean now. The fleet still
exists,” he said firmly. The young man's face froze and then congealed in
surprise. The admiral sat back in his chair. This was going about where he
wanted it. Disbelief echoed in a few, others had eyes widen at that. “You can
go to Pyrax or Agnosta and apply to join up either as active duty or as a
reservist. In fact, if you travel on a known ship such as Io 11 or Destiny I
can give you a voucher to allow you to travel free at the navy's expense.”

A
few of the more young and adventurous looked eager. “Wow!”

“Seriously?”

He
nodded, keeping a straight face. “Yes. You'll have to take the exam though, The
pretests and study on the way to the system. It's
not
a cakewalk by any
means. Yes they will take just about anyone if they can pass the entrance
exams. The academy and boot camps are getting better and better at training
people so you have to be highly motivated mentally and physically.”

“So
if we pass the test...” a teen asked, clearly excited by the idea.

The
admiral nodded. “You can get in. We take some even without taking the test if
they qualify in other ways, but eventually they have to take the entrance
exams.” He paused to study his audience carefully then nodded slightly. “But if
you're not mentally prepared, like say a pacifist, or even if you are too
aggressive or independent you may be placed in a position that best suits that
role. Such as on a station, or in the shipyard. Not a line post. We're not
going to put you in a place where you are likely to break and cause havoc.”

“A...
shipyard?” a young Veraxin asked.

The
admiral nodded, not happy about admitting this but he had to strike while the
iron was hot. “Yes, there is a growing shipyard in Pyrax.”

“Seriously?”
the young woman said looking doubtful.

“As
a heart attack yes,” he said trying hard to keep a straight face again. “There
are six ships under construction right now.”

“If
that's all going there, why are you here?” she demanded. He knew that had been
coming and tried hard not to grimace.

“Er,
well... it's complicated,” he sighed. He'd anticipated this but hadn't really
nailed down a comfortable response.

“Politics,”
Sprite said tartly.

“You
could say that,” he growled nodding in agreement. They looked at him in
confusion. His face twisted in dislike. He was going to have to explain.

"You
see, when I was busy building the fleet and getting people into rebuilding
their space colonies and making new ones, some people wanted to take
over."

"Typical,"
a kid said in disgust.

"But
you squashed them right?" the Veraxin asked.

The
admiral sighed and shook his head. "No, I handed the power to them. Or the
people did."

Faces
froze and then some grimaced or scratched their heads. He spread his hands in supplication.
"I can't be in charge of a civilian system folks. Not for long. I know, I
know, martial law. But I'm not cut out to order people around who aren't
mentally prepared for it. The general population didn't all sign up to be in
the military after all. You can't give an order that you know won't be obeyed;
it just undermines your own authority. So, when things were cleaning up nicely
I set up general elections to put the system back onto a democracy. A
constitutional democracy."

"Oh,"
the Veraxin said with a first level of understanding shrug. Irons hoped they
understood what he really meant.

“I
was laying the ground work for a restoration of the Federation, something I
dearly want to do,” he said, face twisting. He shook himself as they looked at
each other.

"The
problem was, once the elections were over and these people were in office they
still wanted me gone. They saw me as an obstacle, someone who could take over
at any time. So they arranged a nasty surprise. I'll leave out the specifics to
make a long story shorter, but in the end I was in a hostage situation."

"Oh?"
the kids were suddenly eager for more details.

He
scowled, face bleak in remembered pain. "I was given a choice. I leave or
they vent the colony of Vesta, killing twenty thousand men, women, and
children," he growled.

"You're
serious?" A man said incredulously. "Why not send in the
marines?"

The
admiral shook his head. “Because the people doing this had thought carefully
and scrambled my communications. I had gotten the word out before hand, but had
ordered them to hold off until I had more information. Had I sent the marines
in they would have been caught right along with the colony."

The
man winced. "Ouch."

"Also,
if you'd sent in the marines it would have looked like a military take
over," one woman said nodding in understanding. “A coup.”

The
admiral nodded, glad someone understood. "Or construed that way by the
wrong people. Which is why I didn't. I was given a choice. Leave quietly, or
those people die. They well... I can dump the entire sordid affair on the net
for you to view later."

"If
you have the stomach for it," Sprite growled.

"We'll
do it anyway," Irons said.

"So,
getting back to your main point, anyone can join?" the Veraxin asked.

The
admiral nodded, glad and thankful for the young ladies help. "Yes. It
doesn't matter if you're male, female, human, or other species, neuter,
hermaphrodite, or asexual or multi-sexual. If you can pass the tests and are
willing to serve and have the qualifications then we'll welcome you."

She
bobbed a nod. "What qualifications?"

"A
sense of duty, honor, courage, commitment, and a willingness to get the job
done are three of the biggest. Sprite can upload the specifics with the tests
and tutorials," the admiral replied.

"Um..."

"Done
and done. I cc'd an e-mail to each of you with the relevant links," Sprite
said from the overhead speaker.

"I
think I'll try it, even if I don't want to get in, it'd be a nice fall back,
and hell, I know I can measure up!" A lad said. Irons recognized him as the
machine shop apprentice. He'd attached himself to the sleeper machinist Ralph.

"You
tell em Bert!" Gus said with a grin. He was even considering signing up.
“Wouldn't it be spar to fly a fighter?” he said, eyes wide. Irons snorted.

"So
the ships..." One of the adults asked, ignoring the excited kids.

"Well,
Kiev for one but I believe you're not heading back there. Io 11 and Destiny.
Destiny is a navy reserve ship so you'll have no trouble there. Io," he
paused. “The captain and purser can be sticky by the AI..."

"AI?"
Bert asked, sitting up straight.

"Ship
AI, yes," Sprite replied. “My first daughter Io,” she said proudly.

"WOW!"

"You're
talking with one here too remember?" Sprite said with a disdainful sniff.

The
group laughed at that.

He
explained structural repair as they did a round of structural inspections.
While doing an interior inspection a week before break out they found a spar
that had a hairline crack. It was serious. He explained that a weld wouldn't
help; it didn't have the depth penetration. It was hard to explain to the group
from the tight confines of the compartment. Many of the group were hanging on
to pipes or standing on the spar itself. “A plasma weld would just be putting a
band aid on a broken leg. Torsional loads would pop the weld anyway.”

“So
what do we do?” O'Mallory asked.

“Well,
a full up repair at a yard is out of the question,” he said.

“There
aren't any.”

“Pyrax
has a yard,” he told them absently. He felt like kicking himself the moment
that was out. He shouldn't say things like that. What if the pirates got wind
of it? He was remorseful that he'd mentioned it the night before now. It hadn't
occurred to him that it was such a dangerous security breach until he'd gone to
bed last night.