Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (37 page)

“Far from it,” Bounty replied. “I'm still recovering myself.
Bounty is my body so to speak.”

“I see. So, when do we get a shuttle out?”

“Tomorrow,” Mister Cortez's voice replied from the speaker, making
Ian twitch in surprise. “End of shift at the latest. I'll have the Skyhawk up.
If that's okay with you and if you keep the interruptions and the breathing
down my neck to a minimum,” the old man growled.

Ian smirked. “Do my best.”

“Sure you will,” Cortez growled and then the link clicked.

“Bounty...”

“I can't control what people say or think.”

“Yeah well, next time warn me when you hook someone into a
conversation,” Ian sighed. “And work with Mister Takagi. See if he can bump up
the plastics priority. Or send an e-mail to the Admiral asking if he can create
a dedicated plastic recycler.”

“It will take some time. We have restored the machine shops and
replicator compartment in what has up until now been used as a cargo bay. But
this ship was never built to handle heavy industrial processes on board. We're
running out of space.”

“Let me worry about that for now,” Ian said, rubbing his jaw.
“Once we get a handle on logistics we won't need so many cargo bays right?”

“No. But we will need to restore the gym to keep the crew's health
up now that they are rebuilding muscle mass and regaining their strength. Right
now it's a dungeon. One no one will go near for obvious reasons.”

“Send bots in to document it and take it apart then,” Ian growled.

“Good idea. I do wish we'd get this rank sorted out though.”

“One thing at a time,” Ian breathed, shaking his head as he
continued on his way.

 
<----*----*----*---->

Ian nodded to Rory Gustov as they entered the mess together. They
noted the Admiral was there, answering questions. The two newcomers took a tray
and went through the line. When they were done the people around the Admiral had
thinned out a bit as some went on shift.

“This seat taken?” Gustov asked, indicating an empty chair. It
was practically wrapped in riggers tape. It was probably as old as the ship, if
not older.

“If you can stand it,” Ian said. “I noticed your lunch is getting
cold Admiral,” he said, setting his tray down.

The Admiral looked at his half eaten sandwich and snorted. “I've
been a bit busy,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. He grimaced. “Cold,” he
said. He put his right index finger into the drink. After a moment it heated to
steaming.

“Okay, now that's showing off,” Gustov said, smiling slightly.

“No, just practical,” the Admiral replied.

“Lazy you mean,” Sprite teased him. He smiled slightly. She would
pay for that taunt he thought.

“How goes the brig?” The Admiral asked Gustov, ignoring the dig.

“So far so good. We've had few problems. Bard wasn't too happy
about the newcomers.”

“Tough.”

“Is he playing king rooster in the hen house?”  The Admiral
asked.

“No. An engineering officer is the only ranking officer. The only
surviving officer I believe,” Gustov replied, picking at his porridge.

“Good.”

“So, now what?” Gustov asked. “I mean us. What now?”

“Good question,” Ian said, turning from Gustov to the Admiral. He
cocked his head as he picked his own coffee cup up and took a casual sip.

The Admiral frowned. “I can't bring back the people you've lost,”
the Admiral said, looking meaningfully at Ian. The civilian winced.

“No, no you can't,” he said softly. “What is done is done. She
would have wanted me to move on.”

Gustov looked at his friend thoughtfully. Slowly he nodded. He
glanced around, noting the unobtrusive looks and ears. Most of the compartment
had quieted not to eat, but to listen.

“But, I can give you something else. A purpose. A chance to not
only get even, but to stop the Horathians in their tracks.”

“They say the best revenge is to live well and fully,” Sprite
said. “Some people hate it that you can move on.”

“Some of us can. Some are still at ends, not sure what to do. The
idea of having a new purpose though,” Ian said cocking his head. “It sounds
good. In theory.”

“It is all up to you. If you are willing.”

“Willing... you mean sign on?” Gustov asked.

The Admiral nodded. “I restarted the Navy and Marines in Pyrax,
and there are detachments in Antigua, Epsilon, and other star systems.”

“You really are serious,” Ian said thoughtfully. The Admiral
nodded.

“Well, I already said I'm in,” Gustov said. “If only to get some
payback. Besides, it's not like we've got anywhere to go, I mean, anywhere that
is safe.”

“True,” Ian murmured. “Sort of simplifies things a bit,” he said.

“The threat of a hanging always does tend to focus the mind,”
Sprite interjected. The Admiral snorted softly.

Gustov shifted uncomfortably and then grimaced. He reached down
and took his holster off.

The Admiral studied it as the man put it on the table in front of
him. “It's chafing,” Gustov said.

“I see.”

Proteus scanned the weapon and then placed a diagram over it. The
image unfolded into an exploded diagram. Irons immediately recognized it as a
hand held Gauss pistol, something he hadn't expected. He also was surprised
when the AI pointed out the thing was almost new.

“Marine?” the Admiral asked, changing the subject. He dragged his
eyes away from the pistol to Gustov's gray ones.

“Marine sir?” Gustov asked.

“We have them in Pyrax. With your background you would be a
natural. Or ship's security. Though I don't really see you as an MP.”

“I think you mentioned it before sir. I'm okay with the Marines.
I'm actually looking forward to it,” Gustov replied. “If that's okay with you
sir.”

“Marine officer,” the Admiral amplified.

“Officer?”

“Someone needs to lead. You've done an exemplary job so far.”

“Yes sir,” Gustov replied, smiling slight as he sat straighter.

“Now I see the bigger picture,” Sprite murmured. “A nice bit of
recruiting, I think. Very nice. A shared conflict to bond over, one to showcase
your leadership and engineering skills. A common enemy to fight. Springboard
that into a recruiting drive. Admiral, you can be sneaky,” she said for his
ears alone. “Did anyone try to get you to play recruiting officer before you
met me?” She asked with a chuckle.

“You think I should sign on Admiral?” Ian asked, staring into his
eyes.

Irons frowned. “It is entirely up to you. Your ship will be restored
I believe. We'll get to it, I hope. But we need officers. Good officers. People
who can lead, who can fight. Who can man a ship. Who eventually can fill my
shoes in a couple decades.”

“Decades...” Ian murmured.

“You'll get the full works. Sign on bonuses, training, medical...
that includes any treatments necessary, implants, and anti-aging treatments,”
Sprite said, doing her bit to set the hook properly. “Along with that is a
college education, pay for family, medical for family, and a pension when you
retire. I've got a website up if you are interested in reviewing the pros and
cons of signing up.”

“Pros
and
cons?” Ian asked thoughtfully. He noted the AI
had put an icon in his vision. On his HUD, he thought. He was still getting
used to that.

“Yes. I didn't pull any punches, I didn't sugar coat it. Well,
not a lot,” Sprite said.

Ian's lips tugged in a slight smile at that admission.

They ate in silence. The Admiral excused himself and took care of
his tray. He got half way to the drop off point with it when someone gently
took it and murmured they would take care of it. He nodded and then waved to
Gustov and Ian as he left.

“Think they will sign on?”

“I think Ian is at ends. Gustov already said he would. Of course,
he could change his mind. Some people do. But Ian... I think he's looking for a
new purpose. Something else to do, something bigger than himself. Bigger than
ship command.”

“I think he may have found it Admiral,” Sprite said. “If he can
handle it.”

“He can. If anyone on this ship can, it's him,” the Admiral said
loyally.

“Nice. Do you have any idea on numbers? Any you are shooting for?
I know you aren't going to get them all,” Sprite said. “We've still got
psychological issues, not to mention trauma to deal with,” she reminded him.

“I know,” the Admiral replied as he made his way on his rounds.
He nodded in passing to various work crews. They waved him on, smiling. “Not
all will sign on, but I bet many will,” he said, now sounding a little smug.
“After all, payback is a bitch. Many of them really want to stick it to the
Horathian's and sign their names. It's all they have left.”

“With their background? Hell yes,” Sprite replied. “Admiral, the
psych review might flag that. We can't have fanatics blinded by hatred. They
have to be focused and detail oriented.”

“Obviously,” the Admiral replied. “Counseling will help somewhat.
We'll have to let the medics take things on a case by case basis.”

“And only enter into it if you have to? Right,” Sprite said.
“Though I suggest making yourself available too. I can't do much on that end.
Some, but not a lot.”

“I know. The medication in the food?”

“Yes. You noticed?”

“Yes. The Glenns?” Irons asked, rounding a corner. He bumped into
the blue haired woman, Grace. He stepped aside as she ducked around him. He watched
her go and then nodded.

“Yes. Nutritional supplements mostly,” Sprite replied. “Some
metafactors to help with lingering injuries. I think he'll taper off on those
shortly since there isn't a lot in the ship's supply.”

“No, but if he signed on too...”

“I'll be sure to put a bee in his bonnet Admiral,” Sprite
laughed.

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

One week to the day after their liberation Gustov and Ian met the Admiral
in the Captain's office. The Admiral nodded to them as he entered. “Something I
can do for you two gentlemen?” he asked.

“Admiral, we'd like to sign on,” Gustov said simply, standing at
attention as the Admiral went around the desk and stood there.

“Sign on? I thought you were already.”

“I mean in the military sir. If you'll still have us,” Gustov
said.

“I still don't even know your first name,” the Admiral joked.

Gustov grimaced. “It's Rory sir.” His face cleared. “I'm not fond
of it.”

“All right. Gustov then. We tend to go by last names in the
military anyway. Why do you want to join? And what branch?”

“Because you were right. We want to make a difference. This
shouldn't happen,” he said waving a hand. “To us, or to anyone. Someone has to
stop it from happening again. We can't expect someone else to come to our
rescue,” Gustov replied. “We'd be waiting forever if we had. Sometimes you have
to stand on your own. Be the one.”

“Hero,” the Admiral murmured.

“I'm no hero sir. If anyone is, it's you.”

“I'm not one either,” the Admiral said, waving a hand. “I'm just
remembering a song, and some stuff from the twenty first century. My mom loved
some of the music from that time period. She was eclectic; she listened to
anything that moved her. This one song, it stuck in my head.” He sank into his
chair. “Nickel something?” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I had a talk
with my parents about it, and it's one of the things that put me on the path to
where I am now. The realization that someone has to do something, and
sometimes, that's you. You may not think you are what it takes, you may not
think you can win, but you don't have a choice.”

“Pretty much everything in a nutshell we've been going through
here,” Ian said with a smile. “I'm in too.” He shrugged. “For the same
reasons.”

“You don't want Deianira?” the Admiral asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ian spread his hands. “If we can get her moving again?” He
shrugged. “I'd want a command eventually. I'm good at it, I know that.” The Admiral
nodded. “But I can't go back. There are too many ghosts there. Painful ones,”
he said.

“Okay. Navy obviously, officer,” the Admiral said, nodding to Ian.
He turned to Gustov. “Navy or Marines?”

“Put me where I can get my hands dirty and I can shoot stuff sir,”
Gustov said.

“Marine? Marines shoot things, they run around in powered combat
armor and do a lot of shooting.”

“That's me then sir,” Gustov replied, deadpan.

“Officer,” Irons said, not a question. Gustov looked at him but
remained silent. Irons nodded. “All right, I'll have Commander Sprite draw up
the necessary papers and she or Bounty will go over them with you. They are pretty
comprehensive, and I am offering a sign on bonus that we can work out later.”