Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (29 page)

“Just log what comes in. Check the ship's systems periodically.
If there is a problem call me, Ian, or Sprite,” the Admiral replied from the
open hatch.

Enric leaned forward to see him and gave him a thumbs up. Irons
nodded and went on his way.

He stopped by the MPR. People were coming in, stopping to get a
bite or to compare notes but then stopping in their tracks when they saw the
video Sprite was playing. The Admiral snorted. Sprite had created a propaganda
piece, pumping up the golden age of the Federation and how they could be a part
of returning civilization to the galaxy. He shook his head when someone noted
him in the hatch.

“Just checking in,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Thanks for putting it on a loop,” a rating said, indicating
the video. “I missed the first part.”

“Wasn't me,” the Admiral said. “Get some food and rest. A shower
too,” he said. There were enthusiastic cheers over that idea. Irons chuckled
and left.

Twice people stopped him on his way to engineering. Each rating
asked if they were going to free the other prisoners.

“Once we get the damage control sorted out and Gustov gives the
okay, we'll do that,” the Admiral replied each time.

He got to the hatch leading into main engineering and heard a sniffle.
He peeked and saw Kinja on a stool, dabbing at her eyes. Sindri was there with
her. Patting her arm. “Is she okay?” Irons asked, leaning in.

“She's...”

“No, I'm not okay,” Kinja, said. “Why didn't someone tell me
earlier?” she demanded, voice choking with sobs. “Franx deserved better!”

“He died saving his friends and comrades lass,” Sindri said
sympathetically, patting her arm. “No one could have asked for a better death.”

“He was a good man. A great Captain,” Kinja said. She let out a
slow breath, getting her emotions under control.

“Yes, he will be missed,” the Admiral, murmured. “I liked him
too. I wished I could have gotten to know him better.”

“I... yes,” Kinja replied. There was a familiar sound. She looked
down at her stomach.

“Why don't you go get some food and rest lass? I'll man the post
here until you come back,” Sindri said kindly.

Kinja nodded and climbed off the stool. She headed to the hatch.
The Admiral stepped aside. She ducked her head away in embarrassment as she
passed. When she was gone he turned to Sindri. “Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes. We'll all survive. We're survivors. Though it would be nice
to get our mates back on the ships,” Sindri hinted.

“We're working on it,” the Admiral replied. He looked around.
Engineering was a mess of wiring and equipment. Panels were open here and
there. It was a jumbled patch job. Apparently it worked though. “I see we have
a lot of work ahead of us,” he said.

Sindri looked around. “Hey, if it's not broke don't fix it just
yet,” he rumbled.

“True. Right now it's working, I will give them that. But I want
this ship back to Federation naval standards.”

“Ship shape?” Sindri asked.

“Aye. And Bristol fashion,” Irons replied.

“How are you going to manage that?” Sindri asked.

“Well, as it happens, I'm an engineering Admiral,” Irons replied
with a knowing smile. Slowly Sindri's face broke out into an answering smile.
“We engineers are well known for working miracles. We'll get it done,” he said.

“Aye, that we will,” Sindri replied, looking around once more,
this time with an eye to what priority was needed where. “Good to know. Now be
off with you now, go chase someone else. I've got things handled here,” he
said, waving a meaty hand.

The Admiral chuckled as he left.

<----*----*----*---->

As he passed people, some standing about, others working on
something slowly, he noticed a trend, a tentative smile here or there, a nod of
approval. The occasional pat on the shoulder in passing. “Get some food and
rest if you need it or are off duty folks. We're getting organized now.”

“Admiral, um...” he turned to the voice of a young man.

“Yes?”

“I... I was asked to work on the bow sensor array but um...”

“A bit rough?”

“Yes,” the young man said.

“I'll...” the Admiral frowned. “You know what? Do you have a
tablet handy?”

Someone held one up. The Admiral nodded. “Some of you have
implants. Sorry I didn't ask to give them to you ahead of time, it was a tricky
situation. You can use them or a tablet to access the ship's database.”

“We can? What for? Oh, you mean for movies and such?” the first
young man said, wrinkling his nose.

“Not just that,” the Admiral replied.

“I see where this is going,” Sprite said. “As if I don't have
enough to do. I'm setting up the websites now,” she said, sounding disgusted.

“My AI is setting up a website, actually a series of websites to
help you with the new hardware and train you on it.” A murmur grew in the
group. He smiled. “I've been making these lectures and training material for
years. Lieutenant Commander Sprite is putting it all together where you can
access it,” the Admiral said. He felt Sprite take charge of his right arm to
point it at the tablet. “There,” he said.

The young man holding the device looked down and then blinked. He
tapped at the icon.

“Oh!” he said, smiling.

“Right. A lot of material is there, she'll be adding more when
she has free time. Everything from tutorials, technical diagrams, diagnostic
steps, medical, everything we can think of. If you have a question or problem,
look for it there or with your fellow crew members.”

“I'll try it sir,” the first young man said, nodding.

“If not, ask Chief Kinja or Sindri, or the AI. We'll lend you a
hand. Remember folks; we're all in this together. Help each other. We'll get
through it.”

There was a smattering of applause. Irons waved and nodded before
he went back on his way.

<----*----*----*---->

“Is he serious about signing on these people? He does realize he
is breaking protocol correct?” Defender demanded.

“In what way? You do remember we downloaded the changes in orders
and law in Pyrax and other systems right. As the Xeno war raged through the
galaxy the strictures on recruitment were changed and relaxed. Many people were
trained on the job instead of going to the academy.”

“There are so many issues though! The psychological issues alone!
And the security issues!” Defender protested.

Sprite pecked at a stubborn piece of code. It had a read only tag
and kept resetting itself when she tried to undo that setting to correct it. It
was in the firmware she determined, so she wrote a script to make the repair in
the bios during the next reboot and then restarted the system. It rebooted and
she watched as it came online and her script kicked in during the POST.

“That's why we're going to screen them. We're going to build a
biography of them, a dossier. We're going to build psych profiles of each.”

“Okay,” Defender replied. “But that is beyond my job
description.”

“Mine as well. Get over it. We have a job to do, we have our
orders.”

“What about those who are on the edge?”

“Those that we have questions about or have issues with we will
bump them to the bottom of the list to give them time to decompress and adjust
to therapy.”

“Understood.”

“We'll reassess them later. It will give them time to think
things over more.”

“What about fanatics?”

“That's going to be an issue, as is trauma. PTSD is my worry.
We'll have to find ways to spot it and hopefully treat it early. Everyone is
getting therapy. We'll see how that goes.”

“Understood,” Defender replied again.

“Any other questions or complaints?” Sprite asked. When he didn't
reply she shook her head. “Fine then, go on. The first candidates are asking
for an interview. Get out of my hair and let me work. I'll be along shortly.”
She turned her attention to the next bug list as Defender left.

<----*----*----*---->

Irons finished making his rounds over the course of an hour and
then returned to the bridge. A very grateful Enric exchanged places with him.

He smiled. “Not enjoying the hot seat?”

“I know my limitations,” Enric said, shaking his head. “I'm a
tech weenie, I freely admit it sir.”

“Okay,” the Admiral replied, amused. He had stopped and grabbed a
bite to eat, answering questions in the MPR for some time. He'd even repaired
the food replicator and one of the refrigerators there. He was amused that the
former prisoners had gotten into the Captain's stash of ice cream and was
dishing it out to everyone.

“Anything I need to know?” he asked.

“No sir. All's quiet. Except for two calls to get the lead out
with going over to the prison ships,” Enric reported.

Irons looked up. “Helm, are you comfortable with setting a course
there?”

“I... think so.”

“If not we can see if a shuttle has the range,” the Admiral
replied. “I'd really like to dock with my ship first. I've got some things we
can use here,” he said.

“I... yeah, no one likes the idea of leaving their ship adrift,”
Enric replied.

“I think I've got the helm controls worked out sir,” the rating
manning the con said.

“Give it a shot. Take your time and set a course to dock with
Phoenix.”

“Aye sir,” the rating said, tapping at the controls for a moment.
“She's on the other side of the gas giant from us right now sir. It will be an
hour.”

“Good. Work on ironing out the helm controls and get used to them
on the way. Don't use up too much fuel though hot dogging,” the Admiral warned.

The rating looked over his shoulder with a small smile. “I'll try
not to sir. And sir, I'm in. Where ever you want me, I'm in,” he said simply.
“Just say the word,” he said.

“Thank you son. I'm glad to have you on board,” Irons said. The
kid shivered a little, this time in excitement and then got down to working his
station.

The Admiral hit the PA. “All hands, this is the Admiral. Be
prepared to move out. We're working on familiarizing ourselves with the
systems. To that end, we're going to dock with my ship in roughly an hour. Once
we have her we'll make for the prison ships. That is all,” Irons said and took
his thumb off the button.

Enric shot the other ratings a triumphant look and then happily
tapped at his controls.

Irons nodded, surveying the room. They were tired, he could tell
that easily enough. They were still riding the adrenaline high of the break out
though, he gave them another hour before the food hit their blood streams and
they got sleepy. Until then he'd let them work it out.

He jacked in and had Sprite and Proteus work with Phoenix to
patch the ship's damaged software modules, and the ship’s AI came online. For
now the Bounty AI would be in observer mode, at least until they had time to do
a more thorough test and the AI had time to settle down.

“Sprite, the bow network. Can you cut that off from the critical
ship's functions? Observer mode only.”

“Aye Admiral. That I can do,” she said. “Software firewalls
enabled.”

“Good.”

Expanding the hardware access to the ship's AI, Irons plugged an
ODN cable into the station and then to the bow computer network. He felt and
saw the AI flow happily back where it belonged and watched as it expanded and
unfolded like a flower. Self repair programs sprung to life as Sprite oversaw
the repairs and re-integration.

Irons scanned Defender's report. According to it, the AI’s
personality core had some heavy corruption, but it could function at reduced
levels. Defender was uncertain as to the date of the damage; from the look of
it some of it was from the early attempt at the AI's birth.

Already all of the AI had taken some of the load off the crew,
rewriting the crude Horathian software meant to replace it with its own code
and sub programs, or restoring the software from firmware backups built into
the surviving original electronics. The AI’s accessed the few remote drones and
began a detailed survey of the ships systems before bridging the computer
networks.

<----*----*----*---->

Satisfied with that progress Admiral Irons turned his attention
to contact sickbay. Apparently they had gotten the compartment vented and it
was now back in service. The wounded were there, as were the three medical
personnel.

Gustov and the other lightly wounded had been treated and
released on their own recognizance. Gustov, a security officer from Hoshi’s
Jaw-te ship was turning into a boon. He had already secured the armory, setting
a watch of volunteers, and drawn rotations of the other four surviving security
personnel to watch the brig and wounded Horathian's in sickbay. He had stamped
on the urge to space the lot, which was a good thing. He'd even organized a
party to clear the dead and store them in one of the freezers.