Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  Watching for combat lock and training people to react and not be frozen would be tricky she judged.

  Chapter 5

  One by one the ships exited hyper in one minute intervals into the B100 omega jump point zone and then kicked in their sublight engines to clear the area. When Echo, the last of them, jumped in a burst of light the bridge of Maine broke out into cheers. “Sir, fleet has entered the B100 omega system,” Lobsterman said over the cheers. His attempt to dampen the cheers were ignored. A spontaneous break-out party kicked off. The admiral pursed his lips and let it ride for the moment they deserved the chance to vent he judged. He'd already checked the system; there was nothing in their immediate area or in the system to worry about. He tapped the communications systems and sent a ping to the gas refinery they had left behind in the system as Chief Behr arrived on the bridge with a bottle of something and plastic cups. Lots of plastic cups.

  “Is this going to take long?” Lobsterman asked plaintively. “I thought we were going to get started on my repairs,” he demanded from the holo emitter near the admiral's right arm.

  “Relax, Ensign. Let them have their moment,” Sprite replied, eying the party through the admiral's sensors and the bridge remotes. The acting chief engineer had left the hatch to the bridge open. More celebration could be heard down the companionway.

  “All ships have checked in, Admiral; all are nominal. Hyperdrives have been safed,” Lobsterman reported formally, voice cutting over the chatter. The chatter muted slightly.

  “Good,” the admiral said as heads turned his way.

  “All ships are ... having a party,” the AI reported, sounding annoyed.

  “Good,” Sprite said as Doctor Che came onto the bridge. She was grinning, which was unlike the normally sober woman. She wrapped her arms around Lieutenant Dita, who was practically bouncing on Coxswain Moore's lap with Ariel. From the look of the flat black man's face he didn't seem to mind. It was creased in a laugh, but he was also fending off the red head's long hair. The admiral was going to say something but Doctor Che saw him opening his mouth and shook her head now.

  He closed his mouth, then frowned as she came over to him. “You don't understand, Admiral,” she said softly hip bumping him. He blinked at her. “Many people are on borrowed time here. They had long since given up hope of ever being free. Then the battle of B101a1, and now this. Some hadn't thought they'd make it.”

  “That's right, Admiral,” Sprite said in his ear. “They need to blow off steam. They've been through hell and are on their way back. This is a step in the process,” she said.

  He grunted.

  “They'd earned their moment, sir; don't blow it,” Doctor Che advised him. He nodded.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  While the organics partied Lobsterman directed a radio signal to the satellite and a second signal to the refinery the admiral had left behind. It would take some time for his ship to get a response.

  “Organics are odd. They are clearly wasting time,” he said in the net to Proteus.

  “I have found that to be true. They seem to need an excessive amount of downtime,” Proteus responded.

  “Oh, leave them alone,” Sprite said, entering the conversation. “They need to decompress. This is a good excuse to do so. Fortunately there is nothing in the vicinity to report on.”

  “No, there isn't,” Lobsterman replied. “But this will take time from the schedule.”

  “The clock starts and stops when the admiral says it does. If he wants to delay, we're going to delay. If he wishes to extend the time line, we'll be here longer. Focus on covering the major systems while they get it out of their system,” Sprite ordered.

  “Aye aye, ma'am.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  When they arrived in the Beta 100 omega system and the crews finally settled down, they got to work. Lobsterman had reported an all clear from the satellite; there had been no ship traffic in their absence. The refinery was online and fully stocked as well. Meanwhile the fleet transited deeper into the star system to anchor near the outer belt.

  Carnegie was swarmed with shuttles taking off all the goods and parts the factory ship had built while in hyper. Some raw material flowed in the opposite direction but not enough to restock the ship's empty holds. Since they had used up their salvage before leaving the system, Irons dispatched Mary Apple and the frigate to hit large metal asteroids on the outer edge of the system.

  The two ships used the same method Firefly had used in Pyrax a long time ago. One ship would light up a rock as target practice while the other caught. They quickly got over the excitement of firing their energy weapons as the task turned into just another chore to do. They hit the rock with energy weapons until it was ground down to gases and molten particles, then pulled them in with bussard scoops. Once they were full, they would pass on what they had picked up to a patiently waiting freighter nearby. She would store the materials in separate holds until she was full, then she would return with the materials while another freighter took her place and the two warships hunted for a new rock to exploit.

  Unfortunately the system's asteroids were sparse, so they spent a great deal of time in transit.

  A tanker was dispatched to the Jovian where the gas giant refinery had been left. Its computer signaled that its tanks were full. The ship would stock up on fuel while in orbit, then return to the fleet to transfer its load to the thirsty fleet. The second tanker would pass it for its turn at the refinery. With a bit of luck they would have not only full fuel tanks but enough surplus fuel to handle the repairs he had in mind. When they finally linked up with the other tanker he had dispatched with Lieutenant Lewis, they would be able to keep the fleet fueled for their entire journey without stopping. If he deployed the second refinery he had in mind, they would be even better off.

  “All right people, we're on the clock. Bounty will be back in as little as three months, so let's not waste time. We have a priority list of repairs, start on that. Try to focus on the critical systems, but do try to do any exterior repairs now. You won't get the chance in hyper.”

  “We're installing the new parts now, Admiral.”

  “Good,” Irons replied. “Carnegie has the follow up list. Make sure you get her your broken hardware quickly; we're still short on materials and every little bit helps.”

  “When do we get our own replicators?”

  “When we have time to make them. If you have them on board already but nonfunctional, I'll stop by and rebuild them.”

  “And for those of us who don't have any, sir?”

  “We'll make the best of it,” Irons replied. “Focus on drive, life support, hyperdrive, and hull. I'll expect daily progress reports. Any questions, run them through Commander Sprite before you bog Carnegie down. They'll do the best they can folks so have patience.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “If you have downtime, use it to either train or rest your people. Or both.”

  “Both?”

  “Please tell me you are sleep teaching,” Sprite said.

  “Um ... no?”

  “Okay, something else to learn,” Sprite drawled. “I'm making a note to explain it to you and your medic. Expect a department head briefing shortly.”

  The frigate captain nodded.

  “We're a little shorthanded Admiral ...” another acting captain said.

  “We all are. We have a lot of ships and not a lot of manpower right now. When we get more bots and ship systems online that will help. Until then, we'll have to cope the best we can. Any other questions?”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  During the journey to B101a1, the Glenns had led discussion groups and impromptu therapy groups with newly recovered people who recently signed on in B101a1. Some of the former slaves were deeply embittered by their recent experiences. The psychological trauma was widespread throughout the fleet, though some of it had bled off when they had been freed. Bitterness spilled over into the occasional rant or tantrum however.

 
It was hard for some people to get to the meetings with their busy schedules. Doctor Che hopped a flight over to check on the Glenns and visited their sickbay before their ship left the system. She wanted a chance to check in, pick up a few things, and maybe straighten them out before they departed for their errand. She popped in just as they were finishing up a therapy session. A guy was crying; apparently he'd unloaded something.

  “You have therapy sessions here?” the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow in inquiry after the last patient had left.

  “Yes,” Holly said, gathering up her tools. She shooed the Coonie out. She was a big help; even people who normally didn't like animals tended to empathize and calm down around them. Stroking their fur helped a lot.

  “Why?”

  “Because we're people. Some of our people still have scars.”

  “Not like we do,” the doctor replied with a veiled hint of disdain. “You can't even begin to understand what we've been through.

  Holly's eyes flashed as she looked up to the other woman. She bit back, "Oh yeah, Doctor? Well, it wasn't all tea and crumpets for us either. Just about everyone not from Firefly was a slave. Even the Admiral was in the brig. I was raped. Gang raped repeatedly. When I popped up pregnant Doctor Hasad gave me a contraceptive to abort the fetus. I was lucky. Later on he had to use a coat hanger."

  "I didn't know," Doctor Che said quietly. She frowned, putting the idea into perspective. She vaguely remembered Bounty had been in the Horathian fleet. “Though, I should have suspected,” she admitted, shaking her head. “I'm sorry. I imagine that happened with all the women in the fleet.” She looked away in sudden discomfort.

  “And many of the men,” Holly replied with a nod.

  "That's why we're here, to talk. To air out what happened to each of us. Obviously, I've been doing too much listening and not enough talking. You don't understand what I've been through, and why I ... I'm not going to say sympathize. It's too ... wrong. But I've been there. I know. Trust me on that." she closed her eyes, tears falling. Her shoulders shook briefly. “It's hell sometimes, but I know they need the shoulder. Someone has to do it.”

  "I'm sorry."

  "No. The reason we're here is to talk about it. To get it out into the open, to feel each other's pain, know that you, me, we're not alone. We're here. We're a crew, we're a community, hell, we're a family. And by the gods of space we are going to pay the bastards back for all the pain they put us through."

  "You got that right," the doctor replied with a nod. “So, um, got a moment?”

  Holly studied her and then smiled. “Sure, Doc. Care to chat over a cup of tea?” Grace nodded mutely. Perhaps talking about it with Holly would help. She hadn't found anyone on Maine she could talk with. It wasn't eating her up, but it might help ...

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Once the fleet was on task and everyone was busy the admiral dispatched Captain McGuyver with Bounty to Hidoshi's World to relieve Marine LT Lewis there, then return with forces as well as the three ships that had been left in that system. Transit time should take Bounty four weeks out, it was a short 4.94 light year hop. It would take them 5.5 weeks back; however, they would be traveling at the slowest speed, which was the tanker.

  “See you in three months then, Ian,” Irons said with a nod to the captain during their final briefing before departure.

  “Not giving us a lot of time to wrap up loose ends in Hidoshi's World you know,” Ian warned, raising an eyebrow.

  The admiral frowned. “I know. Pull our people out if it is bad. I know I sent them in as a forlorn hope,” he said, making a disgusted face. Oh, he wasn't mad at them; he knew they'd do their best. He was annoyed at himself for letting them go. Thirty marines and mechanical support would melt like a snowflake against the Horathian battalion's fury if Lewis screwed the mission up. If he'd slipped even a little bit things could be ugly. He hoped and prayed the marine had kept his head.

  “We can't stay here forever, Captain; we've got a mission. As soon as these ships are ready, we're moving out. With or without you,” he warned, giving the captain a stern look. Ian nodded. “So, get a move on and don't dawdle for long. If you have to catch up,” he shrugged. “So be it. If they have completed the mission, all the better. Load ‘em up with any recruits and then hustle on back here. But if not ...” He frowned as he paused. “You use your discretion as senior officer,” he said with finality in his voice.

  “We'll get them back, Admiral,” Ian replied with a knowing nod. “If you don't mind, I'm going to try to set a speed record there. I want to give the natives as much support as I can when I am there, for as long as I can,” he said.

  “That's why I sent along the care packages with you,” Irons said with a tight smile. Ian nodded. “And my message. If they have a functional government, feel them out for constitutional delegates as well.”

  “I will, Admiral,” Ian said with a half smile. He knew the admiral was pushing to reform the government now. He wasn't sure if now was the proper time, but they had to start somewhere. He wasn't comfortable making promises he may not be able to keep ... or leaving marines, hell, the people behind to be bare ass naked for the Horathians to come around and stomp on them and take back their real estate. Those were problems for another day though, he reminded himself. For now, he had a mission to perform. He came to attention and saluted. Irons returned the salute. “We'll be back.”

  “Safe sailing, Captain,” Irons said as he cut the channel.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Lobsterman went through a series of AI growing pains, something Sprite and the other AI knew all too well. Defender and Proteus had lesser trouble when they had initially come online as dumb AI. They'd had a period of instability, fortunately brief as they had settled into their hardware and chosen role. Ensign Lobsterman was a bit of a different story. He was a smart AI similar to his “mother,” Commander Sprite, but with a lot more processor space and a need to grow.

  Phoenix had gone through a similar period, as had other AIs, so Sprite knew the routine. She also knew it was important to be patient with them when they started to exercise their boundaries and reestablish new ones. Seeming resentment over her authority figure had been curtailed; she'd been too preoccupied with her own duties to nitpick and micromanage his initial development. When he got to what she judged his teenage phase, she noted he was going down a surprising mental pathway.

  The AI acted superior to the meat bags, which was amusing for a brief period to the other AI, but also dangerous. AI were indeed better than organics in some things but not everything. A holier than thou attitude wasn't going to fly for long with the crew. The question was, how to educate the ensign on that without causing additional resentment or trauma.

  Lieutenant Meia's encounter had helped slightly in that regard, but apparently the ship's AI hadn't taken the lessons to heart. Nor had he realized he couldn't run the ship without a crew. He just enjoyed the superiority conviction.

  When the AI began to move from a sarcastic personal view of humans to expressing it, then throwing his virtual weight around using his rank, things changed quickly. Sidelong looks among the crew started up as well as private talks among a few of the senior enlisted. It frustrated him that they excluded him, locked him out, even going as far as to shut down or disconnect cameras and audio sensors so he couldn't eavesdrop.

  Sprite waited patiently for the ship AI to act. She judged he would most likely complain about the actions if he didn't retaliate in some form. Twice an officer who outranked the AI had to step in and countermand his order, which apparently didn't sit well with the ship's AI. It was clear to the crew that the AI hadn't earned the rank he had. He was acting like a child, like a tin plated god, which had some of the crew resentful and on edge. His tendency to lecture had also caused problems. It was hard to respect someone who hadn't gone through what they had gone through, who hadn't earned it, earned their respect.

  “Sir, I've got a problem. The crew are ... hiding things from me. I don
't want to alarm you, but it's getting more prevalent throughout the ship. I thought you should know,” Lobsterman said to Admiral Irons while he was in the wardroom.

  “Oh?” the admiral asked absently, still looking at his report.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ever think they want some privacy? Having someone looking over their shoulder, constantly judging them or, hell, needling them is a problem. Micromanaging them is also a problem,” the admiral said mildly. He signed off on the inventory report and then set the tablet aside to look at the AI's avatar.

  “Sir, I am an officer. I should be treated as such.”

  “You will get the minimum respect and courtesy due to your rank. A rank that was assigned to you, one you haven't earned,” the admiral said.

  “There is that word again. Sir, I've been here all along. I am the ship. Without me ...”

  “Without you we'd have problems. Things wouldn't go nearly as smoothly as they are now. But the ship would still be here. So would the crew.”

  Lobsterman frowned ferociously.

  “I know you want to prove yourself. You are young, believe it or not, that's normal, whether you are an AI or organic,” the admiral said softly.

  “With age comes wisdom?”

  “Wisdom and responsibility, Ensign,” the admiral said, reminding the ship AI of their difference in rank. “Many of the people here on this ship have years of experience under their belt. Some like myself have decades of experiences to draw on. And then there is the training.”

  “Some of the crew aren't trained at all, sir!”

  “Not to navy standards no. Not yet,” he said. “But they are getting there. As are you.”

  Sprite and Irons patiently explained to the ship AI to back off. For Sprite's part, she peppered the AI with experiences from her own past as well as bookmarks from the history files for him to read. Several incidents where an AI had been so obnoxious it had been pulled made Lobsterman stop and think. He ran back through his own memory and didn't like the pattern of behavior he had set.