Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane

by Chris Hechtl

  “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.

  “Definitely officer material with that sort of initiative,” the Admiral murmured in appreciation. He nodded. “Marine, though ship's security might work too.”

  “Gustov is a good leader. But he does like to get his hands dirty sir,” Sprite replied absently, most of her concentration on more important things.

  “Understood.”

  Nurse Holly Glenn reported that most of the injured would recover in a day or two, but the limited facilities prevented necessary repairs to the disruptor burned crewman.

  “It'd be nice if you'd send me Enric. I heard he has some disruptor burns too. I bet they hurt like hell; the anesthetic Rajesh used on him is probably wearing off right about now. Can you send him here? Or am I going to have to come up there and get him?” She demanded. Rajesh said he's the only one we haven't treated,” she said pointedly.

  “Understood ma'am. We'll send him down,” the Admiral said, looking at the injured man. Enric had the grace to blush, looking at his arm.

  “I sort of forgot with everything going on,” he said, gingerly moving his arm.

  “Well, now they can go fix you up. And while your off, get some food and at least four hours of sack time,” Irons said.

  “But what about...” Enric waved to his station.

  “I can watch it from here,” Irons replied with a smile. “You've done good work. I'm proud of you. Now go get that arm looked at.”

  “Yes sir,” Enric said, getting up with a sigh. He walked out with only a brief look over his shoulder.

  “He's on his way to you now ma'am,” Irons said over the channel.

  “Very well. Thank you,” Holly replied.

  “No, thank you for reminding me. We've been so busy,” the Admiral grimaced.

  “Good to know even you need reminding,” Holly said. “Out here.”

  <----*----*----*---->

  Nata'roka pinged Sprite. The AI caught the ping and turned to check on the alien. She was thoroughly distracted, but apparently the AI was the only person the Ssilli could currently contact.

  “Yes Ma'am?” she asked. “Sorry, I'm a little distracted right now.”

  “What's going on?” the Ssilli asked patiently.

  “Oh, you haven't been briefed?” Sprite asked.

  “No. I'm floating in a tiny tank in a cargo bay,” the alien responded. “I don't get out much.”

  “Sorry,” Sprite replied, working on a tangled code. It was a mess, feeding back on itself. There were some recursive algorithms there she didn't like. She set up a script bot to do a line comparison with code samples she had on file and then briefly returned her attention to the organic. “We've taken the ship.”

  “We?” The Ssilli responded, now thoroughly confused. “Who are we? And take the ship where?”

  “Taken as it retaken. Mutiny. Only she was a Federation ship first, so we just took her back. Sorry, I did introduce myself before.”

  “And I still reserve judgment on if you are some sort of Horathian trick.”

  “I'm not. I am an AI. Lieutenant Commander Sprite, Federation Navy,” Sprite replied, sending the Ssilli her ID.

  “The navy?” the alien asked. “They said... you can't be!”

  Sprite checked the bot, sighed internally at the flagged code it was finding wrong, and then terminated the comparison. She pulled the code module from her storage and then ripped out Bounty's code and replaced it. “There,” she said. “And there,” she said, setting up another script bot to reconnect the module's variable strings to other modules. She wrote out a quick script bot to sew up any loose ends and then set the project aside momentarily.

  “The navy may be down but we're not quite out. Fleet Admiral Irons has liberated the prisoners on the ship and with my help; we've retaken the Bounty. We're working on cleaning up and damage control right now ma'am. I'm working on the ship's AI and the ship's computer net.”

  “Oh,” the Ssilli replied thoughtfully. Sprite fed the alien multiple camera views of the ship, and then wrote a camera control program and set it up for the alien to use. “Oh! Thank you! I think,” the alien replied.

  “You sound if you aren't sure,” Sprite teased. She loaded the intro and history files she had created, plus the propaganda piece and linked them to a play later icon on the alien's desktop.

  “Oh, what's this?” the alien asked.

  “Something for you to watch if you wish. Since you sound bored.” She couldn't believe a sapient could remain sane
while being trapped in a tiny container and tortured for years. Just being trapped with little or no input would drive her over the brink.

  “Oh,” the alien said. She hit play and then stopped it after a minute. “Interesting. Can I ask you a favor though?”

  “Yes?” Sprite asked. She traced another red tangle of code. It was twisted, with broken jagged pieces sticking out like barbs.

  “I am thrilled and all, but um, if you are the navy, what now? And um, can you get someone to flush my tank? It is really dirty. I've got too much ammonia and other things in it. If it's not too much trouble.”

  Sprite turned a camera on and checked. The tank was a filthy brown; dribbles of green sludge were everywhere. The Ssilli was old, and in bad condition. Her normally rubbery skin was patched with sores and infections. Her chrometophores weren't working. She seemed listless in the tank, just floating there, fins and tentacles coiled under her. Not a good sign, she thought, now concerned. “Oh my, I don't know how you can swim in that... crap.”

  “You'd be surprised what you get used to if you have to,” the Ssilli replied.

  “Well, I'll see if we can get someone on that ma'am, right away,” Sprite vowed, signaling a life support tech to get on it.

  “Thank you,” Nata'roka replied quietly. “I'll leave you to more important things and just sleep,” she murmured.

  “I promise, we'll get to you ma'am, just hang in there,” Sprite said.

  <----*----*----*---->

  Kinja had managed to control her grief for her Captain’s death and had returned to engineering. She had the engineering watch rotation worked out with Sindri. For now the two of them were splitting the Chief engineer's seat, each taking a twelve-hour shift.

  “What the hell are we doing here? Just floating...” Caid said, angrily checking the EPS flow. This ship was a wonder, far better than Anderson had been. He should know, he'd scrubbed a lot of it over the past year. But now, he finally got to put his rusty skills back into use. He was tired. It sucked; he hadn't gotten any downtime yet since the mutiny.

  “We're not. We're drifting now, but we're on final approach to the Admiral's ship,” Yosef said, checking his own board. He tapped the controls, tweaking the flow a bit. They were barely above the minimum needed for the bottle to maintain cohesion. He was actually looking for things to turn on just for the excuse of using more power.

  “Did you get those robots fixed?” he asked.

  “Can't. And no way am I turning them loose again,” Caid replied with a grimace and slight shiver of memory. He rubbed at one bicep, where a security bot had grabbed his arm with enough strength to bruise him badly. “Damn mechanical monsters,” he growled.

  “We've got some AI now, so mind your tongue,” Yosef reproved.

  “Ah, go to hell, we're all going there anyway,” Caid replied.

  “You are really in a pisser of a mood aren't you? What gives? You should be on top of the world like the rest of us!”

  “It's... why are we going to the ship?”

  “Why not?”

  “We've got people to save! Why aren't we doing it!?” Caid demanded, throwing his arms up. “What, the guy wants his uniform or something?”

  “No idea,” Yosef said, not really into the conversation. Caid was a downer, but he was a hard worker. Yosef knew the other man was just blowing off steam.

  “Typical, interested in his own ship. Think he'll dump us and take off?” Caid grumbled, looking around in disgust.

  “He's an Admiral. Why would he leave a warship for a broken down courier?” Yosef asked.

  “I don't know. It's just not right I tell you,” Caid replied. “We should be saving our mates, not looking for the guy's crap. I have half a mind to go up there and give him a piece of the other half.”

  “Oh that's rich,” Yosef laughed. “Think that one up yourself?” he asked. Caid opened his mouth to retort but a meaty hand touched his shoulder. He turned to look at the dwarf and his mouth closed with a clop.

  “Sit tight. The man knows what he's doing. Trust in him. We've come this far, let's go a little further. We're still getting a handle on everything anyway. Getting some settling in time is good,” Sindri replied. “And that's enough of that. Let's get this bird sorted out.”

  <----*----*----*---->

  Sprite overheard the grumbling and reported it to Irons. He nodded. “One thing at a time.”

  “Yes. And I've sent someone to flush the Ssilli's tank and feed her. She's doing better. We need to do something about her though and her tank, it's bad.”

  “One thing at a time,” the Admiral said again, this time with just a little less patience in his tone. “Though, if you can get a medic to check on her, when they are up,” he said.

  “One is awake,” Sprite said after a moment. She must be maxed out to sound that distracted, Irons thought. “SBA Rajesh, but he's all alone in sickbay. They've organized a three-way watch rotation. I'll write a note to ask nurse Glenn to look into the issue when she wakes and eats.”

  “Understood,” the Admiral replied. He looked over to Ian. McGuyver was working well as his exec, and was organizing the repairs to the bridge, as well as tweaking the watch rotations with Sprite, Kinja, and Sindri. He had two people standing by to exchange with the current bridge ratings. They were being schooled on their stations now, but the current watch wanted to remain to finish the job docking with Phoenix.

  There was a small screen that served as the main screen on the bridge. Irons hated it. He also hated the lack of a holographic plotting table. There just wasn't enough room in the tight confines of the bridge for both an AI post and a plotting table. He'd have to look into installing holographic emitters in the ceiling to free up the pedestal soon, he thought, making a mental note. That is, when they had time, power, and materials for such extravagant things, he thought to himself wryly.

  Phoenix was stable, not tumbling anymore. Irons checked the status board. The rating was good, he came along side and like a virtuoso, he worked the RCS pods on the ship to arrest the ship's forward momentum in relation to Phoenix. With course and speed matched, he applied lateral thrust in a brief microburst and then a stabilizing half strength counter burst.

  “We have lock. Airlocks are lined up,” the OPS officer reported. “One hundred meters distance, closure rate one meter per second and falling. Now one meter every two seconds. Drifting high...”

  “I've got this,” the helmsman said, sticking out his tongue in a rictus of concentration. “Almost...” Carefully he docked the ship with Phoenix.

  “We have hard dock!” The OPS rating said triumphantly. “You did it!”

  “Like riding a bicycle,” the helmsman said, sitting back. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

  “And now we can get to the next step,” Irons said, smiling slightly. “Ensure the lock integrity and then set course for the nearest prison ship.” He turned to Ian. “Tell engineering we'll need a work party in the lock ASAP.”

  “Course plotted. We're going to go slow with the ship docked to us though,” the rating replied, looking up.

  “Can't be helped,” the Admiral replied with a shrug. “Are the docking clamps secured?” He turned to the OPS rating.

  “Yes sir,” the OPS rating replied. “I'm sending someone to double check,” he said. “Just in case.”

  “Good thinking,” the Admiral said with a nod of approval. He liked that the young man didn't just blindly trust his board.

  “I need a break,” the helmsman said, shaking. He shook his hands out and then clenched them a few times.

  The Admiral looked at the young man. He was about done in; his adrenaline had passed. “Get some sugar, your blood sugar level is low. And get some rest,” Ian said, coming over to him. “We've got this,” he said, moving to the lad's couch.

  Gratefully the helmsman got up and nodded. He murmured some things to Ian, explaining the station's controls and then stiffly left the bridge.

  <----*----*----*---->

  S
prite flicked her way into the net covering the sickbay. It was pretty packed, with wounded and a sprinkling of guards. She noted the quiet SBA, Rajesh Ramada and activated the terminal he was standing next to. “Mister Ramada?” she asked.

  He nearly spilled the steaming cup of soup in his hands. “Don't do that to me!” he said, mopping at his chest to be sure.

  “Oh, sorry,” Sprite replied. “Do you have a moment?”

  “One, I was using it to eat before I make rounds,” the man said, sounding a bit put out.

  “Sorry, I know feeding time,” Sprite replied. She cocked her virtual head. “We have a crew member that needs medical attention.”

  “Then send them here,” the SBA said.

  “Unfortunately she can't be moved,” Sprite said with a slight smile. “She being our Ssilli friend.”

  “Oh um...” the Sick Berth Attendant looked around in confusion. “Um...” He shook his head and then took another sip of soup. “I don't know if anyone here is qualified to help her you said?”

  “Yes, her. Female. I have some medical files in my database, and I know Phoenix has more. And she can coach us through the basics if needed. Right now treating malnutrition, sores, and other things are a problem.”

  A person groaned and then moved. Sprite couldn't see well with the camera positions. After a moment someone got out of the nearby bed and pulled the white curtain aside. “Is she stable?” Holly Glenn asked, scrubbing her eyes and face.

  “Yes ma'am,” Sprite replied, putting the alien's vital signs up beside her head image. Holly traced the bio signs for a moment with her finger, pursing her lips. Sprite put up a baseline for comparison.

  “I wish Marty was here. And that we knew more about her species physiology,” Holly murmured.

  “I have the basic files and one comparison file when the Admiral and I encountered another of her species a few years ago.”

  “You... so they aren't extinct?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Yes and no? What does that mean? I'm a little tired here,” Holly warned. Rajesh offered her his soup cup but she shook her head silently and put a hand up. He went over to the beverage replicator and made her a steaming cup of something. He came back and put it in her hands. She took a sip and then sat back with a sigh. “Thanks,” she murmured gratefully.