Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  “Penny for your thoughts, Admiral?” Sprite asked finally.

  “I think it sucks that we came all this way, they've been through so much and something like that happens,” the admiral said, shoulders slumping slightly.

  “Yes it sucks,” Sprite said. “Do you buy the psycho theory?”

  Irons snorted. “Hell no. You don't either, not for a moment do you?” he turned to view the AI. She shook her head. “I didn't think so. This was too well planned and orchestrated. The timing was down to the second. They had high access too to pull it off. That doesn't strike me as a raving lunatic,” he said.

  “Well, playing devil's advocate, I could see an organic going around the bend but being able to hide it,” Sprite said.

  “Or an AI?” Irons asked. “You did mention someone tried to access his implants and triggered the self destruct. That happened before any organic was on scene Commander,” he said.

  “Oof. You would remind me of that. I'll shoot a message to Defender to watch his six,” she said.

  “Watch yours as well. And each others. This isn't over, I can feel it.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that admiral.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Terminating the Halsey organic had gone well but the Watcher realized it had erred in attempting to access the Halsey organic's implants for his codes. The organics were now aware a threat was in their midst. That was a problem, the Watcher had over reached itself. It conferred with its host and determined to go to the backup plan. They would drive the organics out of the facility and allow them to take them back to their star system so the Watcher could destroy more organics.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The community was shocked at the senseless death. Amanda took Jarol's death particularly hard. She took time off to try to deal with the grief but just staring at her quarters made it worse. The sympathy from her shipmates was almost too much to bare.

  Then the rumors began to circulate that it wasn't an accident. Of course security was investigating it but whispers began in the scuttlebutt grapevine that there was more to it than the officers were saying. That led to shock that someone was killing them, actively hunting them. A few more nervous ratings started to point accusing fingers, some at people who had a beef with the admiral, others to those who had been near. A few fingers were pointed at the predators in their midst. The rift among the crew threatened to rip apart the group.

  Admiral Irons was enraged by the helpless feeling. He had to sit back and let the professionals do their jobs. It hurt though, not just his plans but to lose an officer like Halsey. It hurt his plans but hell, there was more to it than that. To have come so far, survived so much only to have his life ripped away like that ... He shook his head. It was wrong, so wrong. Terrible, and he was going to find who did it and make them pay for it.

  “Anything?”

  “Nothing. Those who had passed through the area didn't have the time to do anything to that conduit, Admiral,” Winston reported. Commander Howell nodded. “All we have now is a psychological profile from the doctor.”

  “Let's hear it,” Irons ground out.

  “The doctor theorized that the perpetrator is someone homicidal who woke resenting the admiral.”

  “So he's certain it was a sleeper?”

  “None of the crew from Xavier were anywhere near that junction for the past two days, Admiral. We're not ruling them out, but we are downgrading them on the suspect list,” Commander Howell said.

  “Great,” the admiral said. “And you have a list of suspects?”

  “Captain Lyon is at the top of the list. A few others, mainly ratings who got a poor review from the admiral. Lieutenant Wong and Chief Quigon are also on the list.”

  The admiral raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

  “Both men were um, held over here,” Olaf stated. “Yao for his technical skills, the warrant officer for his leadership ability,” the security officer reported.

  “I can't base my personal experience with both men to rule them out. But I will state for the record that I find their involvement as highly unlikely.”

  “Both have the required technical skills to pull off the assassination. If it was an assassination. We still haven't ruled out an accident sir.”

  “Work on that. Are you going to interview them?”

  “Yes sir,” Winston replied. “And we'll be monitoring them carefully.”

  “Very well. Any problems let me know,” the admiral said. “Did you get anywhere with the admiral's hack?”

  “Hack, sir?”

  “The hack attack that triggered the self destruct,” the admiral stated.

  “I checked Admiral. We ran a simulation of the area, I can't get a clear WiFi signal through to where Admiral Halsey fell. There is a lot of interference from the plasma rupture in my simulations.”

  “Okay so that leaves you ...”

  “With a dead end. I checked the logs on the WiFi nodes, none were accessed and directed to connect to the admiral.”

  “Except the one that was melted into goo,” Sprite reminded him. “That one can't be accessed,” she said.

  “Thank you for pointing that out, Commander. It is an unlikely scenario however,” Olaf stated flatly. “Sir, I honestly think we're borrowing trouble here. We haven't found anything.”

  “So you recommend what, Commander?”

  “We step up security, randomize things to keep from falling into a pattern, and above all, get off this station as soon as possible.”

  “It's not curse, Commander,” Sprite said with a withering tone.

  “No, ma'am, it's not,” Winston said. “But the commander is right. We should leave and return later. We are wasting time here.”

  “I'll think about it, Commander. Commanders,” Irons replied. “Until then, keep digging.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Admiral Irons was restless. Commander Howell had promised him an update but hadn't come up with anything. Even Sprite would have run down the location of people on the station by now to eliminate suspects he thought. But that was a problem, it could have been set up in advance. He scowled. He didn't like where this was leading.

  Since Howell was busy and he didn't want to breathe down the man's neck and be accused of micromanaging John took a different route. He tracked down Captain Lyon and arranged a seemingly chance encounter in an off the beat corridor.

  “Admiral!”

  “Yes captain? How goes the investigation?” Irons asked mildly

  The captain was unsure, his expression troubled. He shook his head. “I don't know sir. To be honest ... I've been locked out, sir. Commander Howell has assumed jurisdiction. It's his show. He has me and my marines standing post in critical areas now sir. That's all I can say for the moment.”

  “Okay,” the admiral nodded.

  “Sir, I noticed you accessed the files on the drone carrier. Can I bend your ear a little more on the idea?” the captain asked hopefully.

  “I am a little busy but I can tell you I like some of the concepts,” the admiral said diplomatically. The Marine nodded guardedly. “But I don't think it is tenable as is. Not as an offensive weapon. You are talking about making a ship the size of a fleet carrier to carry a single oversized squadron.”

  “Sir, I'm certain if you'd let me explain, I mean, that's just a proof of concept. I'm certain the equipment will scale down and the idea will prove itself ...”

  The admiral held up a hand. “I know you think so. Decades of experience designing ships tells me otherwise captain,” he said. He saw the flicker of annoyance in the Marine's eyes. That was too bad for him. “But, I said the idea has merits. What I want to do once we get the ball rolling on transferring everything is to explore it in another role.”

  “Another role sir?”

  “Defensive. As in, inside a fortress carrier.”

  “A ... fortress carrier, sir?” the captain asked carefully. He couldn't quite get the hint o
f disappointment out of his voice. “Sir, I can work on the AI problem, I'm sure ...”

  “It's not that. What a fortress can do is house all the equipment and power supplies needed, even make the drones on demand. I even pulled up some modular drone concepts similar to the ones you were proposing. That way the mission packages can be changed as needed.”

  The captain frowned.

  “This way the fortress can serve as a proof of concept. If we can scale the equipment down, then we can revisit the idea of putting it into a carrier design.”

  “I see, sir. Well, I won't trouble you any longer, sir,” the captain said stiffly.

  “Captain,” the admiral sighed. “Don't fall too much in love with a concept. Try to be objective about it. You are good, and your ideas have merit. We'll see how they play out. Do you want to be on the design board for the fortress? I had initially considered sending you to Agnosta to train the force recon troops and then lead a team to Kathy's World and Protodon.”

  “I ... um, don't know sir. I guess that is up to you sir. I'll go where you need me sir.”

  “Okay. Think about it. You have enough rank to have some say in it. I'd rather keep you around so you can pass on your vast knowledge to the next generation. Risking you is ...” he shrugged.

  “I'll consider it sir,” the Marine said, now uncomfortable.

  “Do so. Dismissed,” the admiral said. The Marine saluted; then after the admiral returned and struck his salute, he about-faced and walked off.

  “He seems steamed,” Sprite said.

  “You mean the 'I'm going to bite someone's head off and piss down their neck look'?” The admiral asked.

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “He'll get over it. I'm not killing the idea, I'm just putting it off for now. We'll see how it goes later.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Chapter 36

  Commodore White hopped a shuttle to Xavier to distract himself from what was going on the station. He was greeted by a side party. It wasn't perfect, but it felt good to see some traditions were still being kept.

  He took an abbreviated tour of the ship with the Veraxin XO. He wasn't familiar with the Arboth class, he'd served on a Nelson briefly, but an Arboth was too new for him. By the time he'd graduated from tin cans to cruisers she had still been on the drawing board.

  When they got to the bridge Captain Sampson met them there. He shook hands with the captain. “She's a good ship.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “A bit green on the crew though. They seem ... young,” the commodore observed. “No offense son. I saw it during the Xeno war too. I just thought times had changed. Apparently not.”

  “Yes sir,” Joey said wryly. “And yes I know you mean me too sir. I fully understand that.”

  “I see.”

  “We've got a few holes in our command structure. Lieutenant Tr'j'ck for instance is also my acting TACO at the moment.”

  “I see.”

  “It's a long story, sir,” the captain said, fighting to sound defensive. “Our last captain was tapped to take command of Maine.”

  “The battlecruiser?” the neochimp asked, raising a shaggy eyebrow.

  “Aye, sir,” Joey replied. He sensed the neochimp was still in shock over the death of his friend and superior officer. A lot of the sleepers were in mourning. They made small talk as they discussed past events including the battle of Triang. “It sucked,” the captain finished with a grimace.

  “It would have sucked a whole lot more if a certain admiral hadn't arrived in a timely manner to save your bacon,” the commodore reminded him. Joey nodded. “Still, it sounds like you did okay. Convoy escort is a bitch. You have to protect fat dumb helpless sheep from the marauding wolves. They can pick the time and place to attack.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Joey judged the commodore seemed eager for the captain's perspective. From what he knew of the commodore's record he had been a ship's captain and hadn't wanted to be transferred to Lemnos. But battlecruiser division had been chewed up and her sister ship destroyed for his ship to be mothballed or scrapped, the story wasn't clear on that part. His surviving crew had been broken up and dispersed into the ship's companies of other ships. They hadn't had another ship for him to take command of so he was transferred to Lemnos to give a shooter's perspective. From the commodore's body language he sorely wanted to get back into the saddle.

  “I'm a fighter, through and through. Give me a deck and a target and I'll take it out,” the neochimp commodore said, shaking his head. “Being stuck in this base while the galaxy burned and my mates died was a personal hell,” he said.

  “I hear you, sir,” Joey said, nodding. “A lot of people want to go on the offensive right away. But the admiral is right, we need to consolidate, get some ships and people in the pipeline then start taking territory.”

  “Offense isn't the only problem. If you can't hold what you've got, you’re screwed,” the commodore said, shaking his head. “Irons is right about that.”

  “You've seen some of the footage and reports about the pirates?”

  The commodore nodded. “I wish I hadn't. To see what we fought for thrown away? See our own people tear into each other like that,” he growled.

  “I know. It's stupid.”

  “Never underestimate the bullshit people use to get others to follow along. They sold this bill of goods to their own people, now they are trying to get the rest of us to take it raw. Ain't happenin. Not on my watch,” the commodore growled.

  “Or the admiral's. Or mine, sir.”

  “Amen.”

  “Sir, if you've got the time, we're just sitting here. I'd appreciate some extra training,” the captain said indicating his chair. The commodore eyed him. He shrugged. “Up until a year ago I was Xavier's XO sir. Before that I ran a gunship on picket in Pyrax. Triang was my first taste of real combat, sir.”

  “Ah,” the commodore said, nodding. “You've been pushed up through the ranks pretty hard? We had that problem during the Xeno war. Needs must and all that. Hell, look at me, I was a captain for four years.” he shook his head.

  “Yes sir. We know we need the training so we take every moment we can. I only graduated from my midshipman's cruise a few years ago. And anyone with a new perspective ...” he smiled slightly. “As an opposing force is welcome. We get stale using the same players,” he said. The commodore nodded. “Getting someone to give us pointers on what we're doing wrong helps sir. And with your vast experience ...”

  “I see,” the commodore said, nodding wisely. “Well, I suppose I can rearrange my schedule for the day. Then we can play in the simulators,” he said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Oh don't thank me. I may be rusty, but we're going to do some good training son. And I'm going to push Irons to do some real space training the first chance we get. Sim crap can only take you so far. Sometimes you really have to dance to see it from the proper perspective. Hang the fuel and maintenance crap.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Let's get crackin then,” the commodore said, cracking his knuckles. “I'll take your CIC. You can hang tough here,” the commodore said, headed to the hatch.

  “Any scenario you'd prefer to start with sir?”

  “Why don't I let it be a surprise,” the commodore said with a feral grin as he left the compartment.

  “Something tells me we're in for more than we bargained for,” Lieutenant Tr'j'ck said, clacking his mandibles as he watched the two officers leave the bridge.

  “This should be interesting,” Joey said with a sigh, taking the hot seat. “Now would be a good time to get our suits I suppose,” he said.

  “Aye sir. And I'll let the backup bridge know we're doing a sim. The same for the station,” the Veraxin stated.

  “I'll handle the alert to the station sir,” Xavier's AI stated.

  “Ready to play?” the commodore asked over the intercom a moment later.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Then h
ave at thee. Battle stations!” The klaxon sounded on the bridge just as the bosun arrived at a run festooned with suits. “No time to suit up, time to dance!” White said.

  “Sir, Xeno fighters off the port bow!”

  “Frack!” Joey said, swinging into action.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Yao cocked his head this way and that at the marine nearby and then turned his head to the warrant nearby. “You too?” He asked.

  “No talking,” the marine said.

  “Bite me,” the birdman said. The marine blinked in surprise. “Write me up. I'm bored and tired of playing games,” he said. He watched the human's jaw work and then look away.

  “What the frack?” Yao asked.

  “Lieutenant,” Quigon said in exasperation. He had been sitting there with his hands on his knees patiently waiting like a statue.

  “Are we suspects? We're suspects. For what?”

  “I don't know. I can guess though,” the warrant replied. His mild brown eyes looked at the marine sentry and then to the lieutenant. “I think you can to sir,” he said.

  “Yeah. I just don't get it. It was an accident right?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Oh, so now they are looking for someone to blame?” Yao demanded. “This sucks. We should take this to Admiral Irons. This is bull.”

  “We're not going anywhere until they are finished with us. And the more we talk the deeper in trouble we're going to get.”

  “Frack,” the birdman said, then clacked his beak loudly. He chattered it a few times until the marine winced.

  “Don't have anything to do than to irritate people sir?” Quigon asked mildly.

  “What can I say, it's a hobby. They irritate me,” the lieutenant said, eying the marine like he was a mouse.

  “They are just doing their jobs.”

  “We need to clear our names.”

  “If we have nothing to hide it won't be a problem. If we interfere, it will be a problem,” the warrant officer said quietly. Yao cocked his head this way and that then clacked his beak like a gunshot. The warrant didn't flinch but the marine did. “You know I'm right, Lieutenant. No sense bitching about it.”