Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (36 page)

While the crew decompressed Irons and volunteers had swung into
action, tearing into the ships and getting them sorted out. A list was made for
each ship, unfortunately a long one when it came to each. The crew was
dismayed, but the Admiral was undeterred. He jacked into the computer network
and swung into action.

One of the first things he had done early on was create another,
larger replicator. Once it was complete he set the first to make another, and
then had the new replicator get to work on making large components they needed.
The second new replicator was slated to be installed in Bounty. Bounty lacked
industrial replicators. He had the food replicators working on small plastic
parts, but they were too limited to do more than that.

Those people who were too mentally addled to be trusted with a job
that was critical, or even required a great deal of complex thought were given
the menial task of moving materials into the Phoenix, and then finished parts
out to the various work crews. There was some confusion over what went where,
but the AI's were on top of it, giving directions or gentle reminders when
needed.

“Can you go in here?” Sprite asked, pointing to an officer's
cabin. From the sign on the door it was the Captain's cabin.

“Intel? Sprite this is hardly the time.”

“Humor me,” the AI responded. Irons exhaled noisily. He entered
the quarters and looked around. The late Captain had had a thing for wet navy
ships. He'd paneled the compartment in real or at least simulated wood. It was
a dark grain. He'd even paneled over a strut that stuck out of the wall. There
were a pair of LCD's embedded behind brass casings. At first he thought they
were framed, then he realized they were meant to simulate portholes.

There were two doors on the east wall, and two more on the west.
From the look of it, the room he was in was a living or wardroom. He scanned
the others. One led to a steward’s tiny room, the other to a small dining room
and kitchenette. He turned to the east doors. One led to what looked like a
bedroom and the other to a full but small latrine. It had a tiny shower in it
and a door to the Captain's bedroom.

He turned. There was a black leather chair and a table nook. A
tray of food was on the nook. He started to get an idea where this was heading.
He turned to look at a set of draws in the corner.

“Quaint,” Irons replied. He looked around and then scowled at an
open draw in the chest of draws. It had some rather dark and gruesome
instruments in it. The draw was overfull too. “No, I take that back.” He turned
and noted an X built into a wall. He didn't like the look of it all of a
sudden. “Sprite...”

“Go through the door. You'll find a bed. The bed is clean I had
someone check it. Plug yourself in, and then get some sleep. Eight hours Admiral.”

“Sprite...”

“Admiral?” Sprite asked, but she stood firm on his HUD. “As your
keeper...”

“Can I add my request to Sprite's?” Proteus asked.

“And mine to the Commander's Admiral?” Defender added.

“No!” Sprite and the Admiral said. The Admiral exhaled noisily,
getting his center back. “You're all in on it?” he finally asked.

“Yes sir,” Defender replied. “You are operating subpar. And we
also need a break.”

“Fine. But I'm going to eat an energy bar, get a drink and do my
business in the latrine first.”

“Okay, just don't get blinded by the gold fittings,” Sprite
replied, sounding triumphant.

“Whatever,” Irons said in disgust, heading to the tray of food on
the table nook. “Commander, make a note to document and then recycle all that.
And use a bot to get rid of it. The same goes for any other similar instruments
on the ship.”

Understood Admiral,” Sprite replied as he sat down and started to
eat.

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

“How are we on skinsuits?” the Admiral asked.

“We have some, but they are Horathian or ancient recycled things.
Not many fit the crew. Also, with their present condition it will be time
before they regain lost muscle and fat.”

“I see.”

“The Horathians however, have their own version of a space suit.
It's a remake of the old suits from before star flight. Newly built too.”

“Interesting,” the Admiral murmured.

“Yes, I thought you'd like that. Mister Sindri is using them.”
Sprite put an image of the small man in a suit. He looked comical. Someone had
tried to adjust its limb length with tape with mixed results. “Yeah, not
something I'd like to use. Make a note to get everyone a skinsuit.”

“Aye aye Admiral.”

“Training on using them too,” he said as he headed to bed.

“Aye sir.”

“Night Sprite,” he said climbing into bed.

“Good night Admiral. It's good to have you back,” the AI said
softly.

Irons woke refreshed. He had a shower, his first cup of coffee,
then an energy bar as he scanned the morning report. He grabbed a coffee to go
and exited his compartment to shrieks from a chimp a dozen meters away.  He
paused with a frown. “Can you keep it down? Some people may still be sleeping,”
he asked.

The chimp stared at him, wide eyed and teeth bared. Irons sipped
cup of coffee, noting the man down in a fetal position at the feet of the
simian. His still sleepy mind ticked over as he realized he had walked into a
possible physical altercation. From her look she didn't seem to be tracking to
well either. “Coffee ma'am?” he asked holding out his cup.

She was still bristling but stopped shrieking. She looked at him
quizzically, holding a metal bar in her hand. She looked down at it for a long
moment. “It’s good. Not real coffee, but close enough given the circumstances,”
Irons said. He noted the approaching medics and other personnel.

The chimp's fingers slacked as she let go of the bar. Holly came
up behind her, murmuring reassurances that she was safe. The chimp hooted a few
times, slowly relaxing as Holly talked soothingly too her. Irons noted the
chimp was half bald, from the look of it, shaved or worse.

She turned back to him, studying him with her brown eyes. After a
moment she hooted a few times, this time less hysterically. Her big expressive
lips moved and then her eyes fell. She turned and slunk off, walking in a
shifting gait. Irons saw it from behind; Holly followed her, urging people who
had come to look to make a hole. It took him a moment to realize the chimp was
knuckle walking, a sure sign of regression. “Not good.”

“I'll say,” a crewmember said, sighing in relief. “That freaked me
out! I thought she was going to kill me,” she said.

“She nearly did him,” another said, pointing to a crewman who was
being treated by Rajesh. He was battered and bruised, cut up a bit.

“He sure took a pounding,” another crewman said in sympathy. “What
set her off?”

“No idea,” another said coming up. “I was going to ask you.”

“What happened?” the Admiral asked after Holly escorted the chimp
away. He noted a crewmember had been injured from the look of it seriously.
Simians were incredibly strong. Most people thought gene enhanced humans evened
the difference out, but that wasn't the case sometimes. Some apes were just as
proportionally gifted.

“Apparently he touched her in passing and she went off on him.”

“Really? Inappropriate touch or...”

“No, nothing like that,” the crewman groaned. “I must have
surprised her. She's still having trouble coping.” He winced. “I think Charlene
was in a bad place. I must have surprised her, set her off.”

“Oh.”

“She lost it.”

“That's going to happen. We'll need to set up something. A
therapy for people to talk about
what happened. Get it out. If it lingers it festers.”

“Yeah well, some of us don't want to talk about it, we just want
to move on. Get on with our lives. I'm fine.”

“Okay,” the Admiral replied, not wanting to get drawn into an
argument. “Not everyone needs it, but some do. Just listening to them can
help.”

“Not me. I've got more important things to do than hold someone's
hand.”

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

Sprite watched the blue haired woman stopping people in the
companionway. She went twice to the mess, and then to the MPR. The
Multi-Purpose Room was only half full. Apparently she didn't see whoever she
was looking for. She growled in exasperation and then moved on.

“Someone you are looking for?” Sprite asked from the overhead.
The young woman jumped and looked around. “Who's that talking?”

“Me. Lieutenant Commander Sprite, AI. Are you looking for someone
ma'am?”

“I'm... its Waldo. I can't seem to find him,” she said, clearly
annoyed. “He keeps disappearing at the damnedest times,” she growled.

“Well, searching the ship is silly. Have you tried paging him?”
Sprite asked, knowing full well the woman hadn't tried.

“No, I mean, I don't want to wake up anyone,” she said. “I tried
his quarters...” she grimaced. “I know he's around somewhere. He sometimes
hides in a crowd. Or he'll find a quiet place to curl up with a tablet or
something,” she said.

“Or sleep?” Sprite asked. A few of the crew had taken themselves
off to sleep on duty. The Admiral hadn't called them on it; they were all worn
out. He wasn't ready to lower the hammer yet she thought.

“Yes. It could be. But... I don't know,” she said, face flooding
with tears. “He's all I've got left!” She said in anguish.

“Um... can you describe him?” Sprite said. She had a working list
of people, but Waldo wasn't coming up in it. He hadn't made enough of a splash
for her to recognize him, or the Admiral hadn't encountered him.

“Tall,” the woman put her hand up to measure out his height above
her own. “Red and white shirt, glasses, wavy brown hair... Lean...”

Sprite did a scan of her crew files and found an immediate match.
“Admiral Irons encountered him several days ago. He repaired the young man's
glasses,” Sprite said.

“Oh he did!” The woman said, surprised.

“Yes. I believe Mister Sindri has him as one of the drive Chiefs.
He's off shift,” Sprite said. She checked his assigned quarters. There were no
cameras inside, but also no heat signatures either.

“I know all that,” the woman said.

“Okay,” Sprite drawled. She ran a quick search through all the
camera feeds but didn't find him. She checked when he got off shift in the
camera memory buffer. She tracked him briefly but then lost him after he met
with a woman she recognized. “He met up with another crew woman, Miss
Santiago.”

“Karmen?” The woman snarled, fists clenched, teeth bared. “That
hussy? He's two timing with her?? That... that HUSSY!”

“Yes, Miss Karmen Santiago. They went off grid. Unfortunately
they went into an area that isn't covered by the cameras,” the AI said weakly
as she realized the woman was clearly furious.

The woman's yellow eyes flashed dangerously. “Why that bastard.
That trollop! They... they...” The woman fumed, shaking.

Sprite imagined steam coming out of the woman's reddened ears.
She was clearly incensed. Now she wondered if her intervention had been a good
thing. They didn't need a domestic violence incident.

“Please calm down ma'am.”

“Thanks for the help,” the woman growled. “I'll deal with the
bastard later,” the woman growled and stormed off.

“Well,” Sprite said to Bounty. “That went well,” she sighed.

Bounty laughed. “I hope she doesn't cut his balls off.”

“I'm not... yeah, no, oh boy,” Sprite sighed again. Bounty
chuckled. “Oh hush.”

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

Over the course of three short days, the crew settled down and the
repairs picked up steam. The crew was startled by the rapid changes. Repairs to
the lighting alone made the ship look different, no longer a hated prison, but
the beginning of a clean functional ship.

Some still hated cleaning it, but they realized it was a
necessary, albeit menial chore. Fortunately the Admiral had repaired some of
the cleaner bots to make the task much easier.

The Admiral and AI were everywhere, supervising the repairs and
lending a helping hand or explanation when necessary. Fortunately, most of the
install was plug and play. The redundant systems on the warship allowed them to
take a system down, throw it onto a back up, repair the primary system, and then
switch. Irons planned to take advantage of the window that he had. He wanted to
make as big a positive impact as he could on as many of the crew as possible.

The three days of sleep, food, and medical care went a long ways
to bring some back from the brink. The Glenn's were fortifying the food with
additional nutrients to help restore everyone faster.

Some crew still had nightmares and issues, but they were slowly
relaxing and settling down. Sprite and Bounty did their best to start and
listen to therapy sessions. The files were right; humans recovered from such
trauma best after sharing their misery with others. Knowing other people
sympathized and had experienced it themselves to various degrees, and wanted to
help, helped them.

Charlene, the bonobo chimp that had the mental break down was
recovering slowly. She was near catatonic, but at least eating and drinking on
her own.

Once the crew had all received a day of rest, food, and a decent
shower, the medics took them in one by one for a full physical. Part of the
physical was to assess the mental health of the crew as well. A few were
reported on edge, but due to medical ethics Marty was reluctant to identify
them. He did report a quarter of the crew needed sleep aides. All the crew were
underweight and malnourished. Vitamin and supplement stocks were running low.

“We can bump up both in the food replicators,” the Admiral said.
“I'm not certain of the calorie level though.”

“I'll look into it,” Marty replied with a nod. “Everyone is
different though,” he said. “We have a few people that need additional vitamin
A. The deficiency has led to damage to their eye sight.”

The Admiral nodded. “Is there a fix?”

“We're looking into it. What you and the Commander have provided
has been a lifesaver many times over Admiral. My thanks,” Marty said.

The Admiral had Sprite and Bounty reboot the medical database, and
the medics dived into cybernetic augmentation research, building off what the Admiral
and Proteus had started. Doctor Glenn requested a civilian implant from the Admiral
to make things easier. The Admiral created a medical replicator and explained
how to create civilian grade identity implants. Those that wanted an implant
were given the pill and instructions on how it would work when they returned to
sickbay three days later for a follow up to their physical.

Sprite judged that less than ten percent of the crew had the
genetic mods for easy upgrade.

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

A crewman rushed down the companionway, stumbled and then bounced
off a bulkhead. Ian caught her before she could fall. “Easy,” he said when she
flinched. He set her on her feet and then let go. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“What's the rush?”

“We're...” she gasped a ragged gasp.

“Okay, deep breath. Calm. Feel the calm. Deep down from the
belly,” Ian said. “Whatever it is, it'll keep for a moment.”

“But...”

“Take a deep breath...”

“But... sir...”

“A deep breath,” he said. She made a show of inhaling and slowly
exhaling.

“Again,” he said. She did so. “Okay,” he said nodding as she settled
down. “What's so urgent?”

“I'm late for my shift. Kinja's going to skin me.”

“Not likely,” Ian said. “I'll let her know you are on your way.
What else?”

“Mister Takagi said we're out of material for the number two
replicator again. The crew got hung up on it. We need a better way around it.
He's pissed, the schedule's slipping. He asked me to look into it.”

“Well, you can't be in two places at once, reporting for duty and
getting that sorted out. I'll look into it,” Ian said. “You report in. Tell
Kinja you were with Takagi and then me.”

“Ah... she may not believe me. Waldo, Grace, and Karmen have
been...”

“We know,” Ian grimaced. “They are our problem. Tell her I told
you so.”

Her face clouded. He looked up with a frown. “Bounty?”

“Yes Captain McGuyver?”

“Can you let Kinja or whoever is in charge of engineering this
shift know Miss Rita is on her way?”

“I will.”

“Thank you.” Ian smiled slightly. “See? No problem. Don't get so
uptight over it. Relax. We all need to relax a bit.”

“Aye sir.” She still seemed anxious though.

“Go,” he said, waving. She nodded and took off, this time at a
trot.

He snorted and shook his head. “Bounty, what is the hold up with
the replicator?”

“Replicator three is currently tasked with the skinsuit job for
the crew. That requires a steady supply of plastics and other materials. Those
are sorely lacking in the salvage, it isn't a priority.”

“Ah, I see,” Ian said, nodding. “Where else?”

“Some of the materials are coming from the ships during recycling,
but we're also getting a supply of fresh gases and materials from the gas giant
refinery. A shuttle is overdue to go pick up a supply. Both shuttles with the
range are down due to maintenance.”

Ian scowled. “I'll have to talk to Mister Cortez about his
scheduling.”

“I think everyone is a bit excited and a little too enthusiastic
about restoring the ships,” Bounty agreed. “And I freely admit I didn't catch
it either.”

Ian smiled slightly. “Glad to know you AI aren't omniscient.”