by Chris Hechtl
Irons nodded, giving them a chance to settle in and eat for a bit before they continued. Morale was high, incredibly high after the rescues. Throw in half way decent food and they were practically in heaven. Sprite had reported a few people had to be sedated, but overall, things were really looking up. “Never underestimate a good meal and full stomach,” Sprite said in an aside to him through his HUD. He nodded. The crew were happy at having a real food replicator that made real food, not paste.
“Okay,” Irons said as they nearly finished eating. “The plan is to use the replicators on my ship to begin restoring first this ship, then mine, and then the gas giant refinery. It will provide not only Hydrogen, Deuterium, and Helium 3, but also a host of other gases we can use in manufacturing. After that, the two surviving ships if we have time,” he said. He expected a protest, but there wasn't. Just a long silence as people digested more than their meal.
“Understood,” Ian finally said, with a curt nod as he looked around the room. There wasn't a challenge in the look; just a quick inspection to make sure everyone was on board. “We'll keep working on integrating, training on systems, and healing.”
“Good. Doc, ma'am, you've got your work cut out for yourselves for a few days I'm afraid,” the Admiral said, nodding to the two medics. Both nodded.
“Happy to be back in our trade,” Marty replied, taking Holly's hand and rubbing his thumb over it. She looked at it and then nodded.
<----*----*----*---->
As the crew settled in, Sprite replayed the videos almost nonstop in the MPR. Many of the newly rescued crew had questions; some questioned the Admiral's authority and legitimacy. Those were put to rest the best they could.
Having not one, but five AI vouch for him didn't hurt either.
Rumors of the Admiral and his deeds had spread throughout the remains of the sector of the Federation, and the crew got a further morale boost when they realized they were with an expert.
The AI’s generated a list of repairs, and once a few of the robotic remotes were brought online the repairs moved quicker. Sprite managed to get the Phoenix power core back up with the on board remotes, they then focus on repairs to the power conduits.
<----*----*----*---->
Defender reported that the EMP weapon was a molten cloud of drifting debris. Sometime during the taking of the bridge a rating or officer had gotten off a self-destruct command to the EMP weapon. Irons still wasn't certain if that theory was correct or not, but it was all they had to go on at this time period and he had other things to concern himself with at the moment.
Chapter 14
Whole world turned upside down
Proteus stopped the Admiral as he walked through engineering. “What?” Irons asked.
“A moment Admiral,” the AI said. “Can you please go to the EPS conduit for a moment?”
“Sure,” Irons replied. “Why, did you detect a problem? A leak?”
“No. Something else,” the AI said, scanning the conduit. Irons felt his right arm move on its own. The hand rested on the top of the conduit. It felt warm to the touch, not quite scalding hot, but warm. He noted nanites stream out of his hand and into the conduit.
“Want to tell me what we're doing?” he asked after a minute. People were looking at him again. They were getting used to him stopping to fix things or talk to a disembodied AI, but not just stand there. “Proteus?”
“Sorry Admiral,” the AI replied as the nanites returned to his hand. Irons felt his hand return to his control. He moved it away.
“Did what you came for?”
“In a manner of speaking. I must share this with Defender and Sprite when they have a moment,” the AI replied.
“Okay,” Irons said. “They are busy. How about me?” he asked as he walked away.
“I did a scan of the EPS conduit.”
“I gathered that,” the Admiral replied dryly. Proteus could be dense at time.
“Also of other pieces of equipment on the ship. Admiral, some of them are civilian grade, but that conduit and a few other pieces of hardware are new built.”
The Admiral stopped and turned. “What did you just say?” he asked slowly. He didn't like where this was going.
“It is manufactured. Newly manufactured Admiral. And not by a replicator either its crude, I judge it's efficiency rating at around forty percent of a stock civilian equivalent piece, but it functions.”
“Yes, yes it does,” Irons replied, staring at the conduit. His practiced eyes traced it to the fusion core. Now that Proteus pointed it out he could see where the new part was grafted into the old artery. “All right, I'm not thrilled by that.”
“You do understand the connotations here sir?”
“A bit. Why don't you lay them out anyway?” Irons asked.
“In the ships we captured in Pyrax, the hardware was a mix of old and civilian, no doubt scavenged or taken by the pirates.”
“Understood,” Irons nodded.
“A few parts were newly made, most of them were basic. Bent metal housings, furniture, containers, ODN cabling, simple items.”
“Okay,” the Admiral replied, thinking furiously. Why hadn't he seen this before? ODN was simple; it was just extruded glass or plastic. But someone somewhere had to have made it. Which meant they were making other things.
“But this is something different. An EPS segment is a complex piece of equipment, with its own electronics to control its superconductors to maintain containment. Also, it has heat exchangers, valves, and other pieces of plumbing. Some of it is crude, but still, it works.”
“And you said they made it the hard way. Without a replicator?”
“Yes. And if you extend that to its logical conclusion...” Proteus said.
“If they made it here, they made it elsewhere. Through the ship you said?”
“Yes Admiral. One of the hatches was newly made. As was an electronics module. In fact, Sprite reported ten percent of the computer hardware is cruder than Federation civilian standard. If I examined it, I might find that it is indeed newly constructed.”
“And where they made this they can make more. For other ships. For infrastructure. Damn,” the Admiral said as connections were made. “Hull?”
“We would have to check. I am assuming it is far cruder than Federation standard. The same could be said for structural elements. I suggest once you have more free time, a thorough inspection is in order to catalog the technology the enemy has acquired the means and ability to make.”
“Agreed,” the Admiral vowed grimly, headed for the lift.
<----*----*----*---->
Irons heard soft sobs and peeked around the corner. He saw a man sitting Indian style, clearly frustrated or upset over something. A panel was open before him.
“Problem?” Irons asked, coming over to him. The young man looked up and dashed his tears. “No, don't get up,” Irons said as the man struggled to get up. He was clearly off balance. Instead Irons knelt beside him. “It's been a long couple of days. With ups and downs,” he said, sitting against the panel leaning against the bulkhead.
“Yes sir,” the young man mumbled. “Thanks to you.”
“We'll get through the next trials together. All of us.”
“Yes sir. It... I was working on tracing the fault in the environmental controls and I just... lost it. I don't know why,” he said softly, shoulders shaking.
“Give yourself a break. You've come through a traumatic experience. A fire, that's burned you. You need to cut yourself some slack. We're all tired,” Irons said. He glanced at the panel. Some of it was a mess, but there were also some neat bundles of zip-tied wires and hoses as well. Granted, it wasn't smart to zip tie a flexible water line to a low voltage electrical line like someone had clearly done, but everything else was okay. Except for the rats nest of burned wires.
“It looks like a mess,” the Admiral said. “Even I'm having trouble making heads or tails of it,” he said.
“Aye sir. It's... I don't know what th
ey were thinking. And I haven't worked on stuff for months. I don't... I don't know...” his shoulders shook again.
Irons patted him on the shoulder. “You'll do fine. It's like riding a bicycle; you just have to get back into it. Start at the beginning. You've got a line probe right?” Irons asked, pointing to the orange box in the man's lap.
The young man looked down at it. “The hook you mean?”
“Right. Hook. It can test the wiring. If you are doing this you should be working with someone else. Or an AI or both. It's really a team effort but we're still a bit short handed,” he said. “But I did notice something,” he moved his hand in and brushed wires aside. The young man opened his mouth but the Admiral just ignored the spark of a low voltage wire hitting his right hand. He caught the dangling wire he had been after and pulled it out. There wasn't a lot of slack though. “This might be an issue. And this,” he said, pointing with his left hand to the plug that was just dangling. “I think someone yanked it out on the other end. It doesn't have enough slack to reach the fan.”
“I see.”
He pointed to the burnt wire. “Do you see how the plastic coating blackened and melted exposing the twisted copper wire beneath? The wire has become welded to the one next to it during the short. “He said as he pried them apart. “And so it shorted this one, melting through the wires. It's got a couple amps to it, so be careful. In fact you may want to cut the power before you strip and fix it.”
“Aye sir.”
“Use a patch wire. Irons put his right hand in to touch the microcomputer. Proteus sent nanites streaming into the USB and interfaced with it. After a moment the AI reported that it was good. “Okay, the control module is good.”
“That's a relief sir. We don't have many left in spares. Three I think they said.”
“We can make more.”
“We can?”
“I've got replicators,” the Admiral smiled. The young man blinked at him. “And once things settle down, we'll really dig in and turn this ship and the others around.” He cocked his head. “With your help,” he said.
“Count on me sir,” the young man said, nodding.
“Good man,” Irons said, patting him on the shoulder. “You can take it from here?” he asked.
“Aye sir. I think I can handle it.”
“Call if you need a hand,” the Admiral said getting to his feet. “And if you ever want to talk, we're all here,” he said softly.
“Thanks sir,” the young man said, looking up as he clipped the hook to the burnt wire.
“Anytime,” Irons replied. He moved off.
When he was around the corner Sprite sighed. “That was nice of you Admiral,” she said.
“He was having some issues. Frustration was blinding him to the obvious. Been there, done that,” he said. “Sometimes it takes a step back, or fresh eyes to help.”
“Not just that. He lost his partner Rob. He's obviously in mourning. Just the offer of support helped him I think.”
“I hope,” the Admiral said. “I'm not sure how much I can hold everyone's hand as they decompress. But I'll do my best until things get better. Can you work with them?”
“Me? I'm an AI remember?”
“With some trauma in her own past Commander. Think about it,” he said.
“Great. Therapy for meat bags,” Sprite grumbled. “Something else I'll never live down. I guess I can put it on my resume though,” she quipped. He snorted.
<----*----*----*---->
Work-bots worked on clearing the remaining dead. Sprite directed them to the electrical closet near the brig lift that the Admiral had used to stash the bodies. They found the wreckage of the robotic dog, the human bodies, and the cowering cyborg dog hiding under a shelf. The dog came out after a few minutes, making whimpering sounds when the robots got to work.
“I almost forgot about him,” the Admiral said when Sprite called his attention to the mutt. The Glenns were with him on a tour. Together they went to the room to check the cyborg out.
To Marty it was a thing of wonder, a robotic bulldog body with a dog brain floating in a clear container on top. “There is no telling how old he is,” the Doctor murmured. “He could be as old as you!” he said, shooting a look at the Admiral.
“Let's hope so,” the Admiral replied.
“Why?” Holly asked. She tentatively reached out to touch the thing. The dog turned and nuzzled her. He made small groaning and whirring sounds as he moved. Vents were on his underside. From the look of it, someone had gotten creative with the life support. Irons frowned. It could be from his time, but... there was something off about it.
“He's low on power,” Sprite said. “That's why he's moving so slow and wanting attention I bet,” she said.
“Are you in communication with him Commander?” Holly asked, looking up.
“No, observation. It's been days in that closet. I'm betting his brain needs a nutritional supplement as well.”
“We can do that,” Marty replied, studying the thing.
“Can we keep him?” Sprite asked, sounding torn. “Though, we should be compassionate and put him down. The poor thing has obviously suffered enough,” she said.
“Please don't,” Holly said quietly. She rubbed her arm. “I'll take care of him.”
“We both will,” Marty said. “I don't follow with keeping an animal if it is in pain sir. But if we can help it and give it a good life,” he shrugged.
The Admiral grunted, rubbing his chin. Irons checked it over. It was a mess; he could tell one leg wasn't fully functional. The thing was almost horrifically ugly, but it was affectionate and had a sort of charm about it. The thing acted as a dog, it whined and even tried to lick Holly's face until she turned away and petted it. It had a plastic tongue that dangled out of its mouth as it panted. “All right,” he finally said.
“You mean it sir?” Marty asked, looking up.
“Yes. He's your responsibility,” he said, pointing to the two medics. “I want information on him. Work with engineering and one of the AI to figure out who did this to him.”
“Yes sir.”
“And have them help you figure out what he needs to survive.”
“Yes sir,” Holly said. “We'll give him a full work up,” she said.
“Good idea,” Sprite said. Irons studied the thing once more. He wondered briefly if there was a Neodog's brain trapped in there. Hopefully not, he thought, shivering.
“He's been through so much,” Holly murmured, hunkering down next to the animal. “Like us. He's a survivor. Our mascot,” she said.
Marty smiled and nodded.
“Cybernetics,” Marty said as they walked the dog to the infirmary. “I have seen one sleeper in my time, but he only had basic implants. Information implants,” he said.
“Who?” Sprite asked.
“Um... I never got his last name. First was Rick.”
“No, we met another,” Holly said. Her husband turned to her. The dog marched between them, looking up at from one to the other. “The Neocat remember?”
“Um...”
“The tiger. You remember. Epsilon?”
“You've been to Epsilon?” The Admiral asked.
The couple nodded. “Our ship did a figure eight course, and Epsilon was one of the stops. We've only been there once.”
“Nox? Nobar?”
“Nohar,” Sprite supplied.
“Yes!” Holly said, looking up as she snapped her fingers. “That's him!”
“We've met,” the Admiral replied, smiling. “He's got a lot of prosthetics like me.”
“Not nearly on your level though,” Sprite said in an aside to him. The Admiral ignored it.
“Yes,” Marty said, nodding. “I always wondered how and why the tissue didn't reject the grafts. And why he didn't get cloned replacements. Was it a choice?”
“No,” the Admiral said slowly. “For some of us, it wasn't a choice. Or not much of one. In his case the medical establishment was overwhelmed with wounded
and refugees and they did the best they could for him at the time.”
“Oh, I see,” Marty, said. They entered the infirmary and the dog immediately went to the nearest electrical outlet. It turned and then lifted it's right rear leg. Marty sputtered as a plug deployed from a very masculine place and plugged the dog in. Holly tuned and then squeaked in embarrassment and dismay when she realized what the dog was doing.
Marty looked at her. Irons caught the look and turned. Holly was blushing beat red. Marty chuckled softly.
“Oh shut up!” she said, laughing herself.
“I guess it's just something we'll have to get used to,” Marty said maliciously. “I'm curious about the food, water, and um, waste,” he said.
“Oh boy,” Holly muttered. “What did I get myself into?” she demanded.
The Admiral smiled. Too late to get out now, he thought. “How is our Ssilli friend doing?”
“She's comfortable as she can be for now,” Marty said as Sprite opened her mouth on his HUD. She closed it and then shrugged. “We've flushed her tank and done the best we can to filter out the waste particles. We need to do a full purge and scrub down, but that's not going to happen until we can get her into another tank.”
“Which isn't going to happen anytime soon,” Holly said sadly. “If at all. We're doing the best we can to treat her sores and infections. She's sweet, but a little senile. Or demented. She is suspicious, thinking this is all some sort of trick.”
“Understood,” the Admiral said with a nod.
“Admiral, if you could jack in to the dog, I might be able to shed some light on its age and history,” Sprite said.
“Um, we're having a different discussion right now Commander, can it wait?” Irons asked.
“If I wait you'll forget and leave. This will only take a moment. Please continue your conversation. Don't mind me,” she said. He grunted as she tugged on his motor cortex. Reluctantly he went over to the dog. It looked up at him. He knelt and signaled his right hand to morph.
“That never get's old,” Marty breathed, watching fascinated.