"Best be looking elsewhere if I was you." She started to move off.
"Unfortunately I can't. There aren't any other ships on station with the tender's range. She's it," Irons sighed. "She's the only thing we have that can hold a prayer to get to a derelict."
The woman paused then lifted her hat brim with her thumb. She chewed something then spat it on the deck. Irons tried not to wince.
"Shoot. All right, your funeral. He's on deck forty nine. Section five A. Look for the picture of a wooden ring thing, that's his door." She waved and left.
Irons grimaced.
"Get all that?" he asked softly.
"Of course," Sprite answered.
"It's cleaner than most." Irons looked around the corridor. He had made his way through the narrow, debris and vagrant covered corridors, through a stretch of dark narrow corridors then into a cleaner section.
"Turn right Admiral. Entering section five A now."
Irons looked around. "Great dorms. I'm not thrilled about knocking on doors," he sighed. "Wait, is that a picture of a steering wheel from an old sailing ship?" he asked stopping suddenly.
"Admiral, there are several people on the plot approaching. I suggest you keep moving. There is a forty nine percent probability that you are being stalked," Defender warned. Irons grimaced.
"Yes Admiral, it is a steering wheel from an old sailing ship. And it meets the super's description," Sprite answered. "Shall we knock?" she asked.
"By we you mean me of course," Irons replied putting action to words.
"Who is it? Go away!" A snarl answered him.
"Which do you prefer?" Irons asked amused.
"What? What?"
"Go away or answer who it is?" Irons asked patiently.
"Goddess of space spare me the nit wit twits. Just get on will ya!" the voice replied. Irons chuckled.
"In a moment. I am looking for a Captain Gutierrez." He waited patiently. In a few moments the voice came back more subdued but curious.
"Why do you ask?"
"My name is John Irons. I need to commission your ship Captain."
"Well, you’re a polite one, even if you don't do as your told. Well, you ain't getting her."
"All indications are that this is Captain Gutierrez," Sprite reported. Irons smiled patiently. “You knew that already. Sorry for stating the obvious,” Sprite said amused.
"Captain, I'd rather not hold this discussion with your door, if at all possible."
"You mean you want to see me face to face? Then have a good look then!" The door slid open and a battered man holding a sawed off shot gun stared at him.
Irons nodded. The man’s face was scarred, he was missing an eye and ear. Most of his hair was gone. His left arm was gone at the elbow. He had a crutch in that armpit keeping him upright.
He was wearing a torn coverall, covered in stains. It seemed too big for his emaciated frame. His left leg was gone, only an stump remained. A peg leg propped him up.
"Had enough of a look?" Gutierrez asked.
Irons shrugged. "I've seen worse."
"Smart alec." He reached to tap the door controls but the door froze.
"Dag blame piece of crap!" the old man swore looking at the door. Irons moved in, re-leaving him of his shot gun.
"Excuse me." He turned and held his right arm to the door panel. Proteus went to work. He watched the plot as the people stalking him moved into the center of the corridor and started to charge. He looked up to see one had a vibro knife.
"Not on," he growled. Suddenly the door shut.
Irons turned to the crippled man who was staring. "Sorry, I noticed they were stalking me and had to think fast." He handed the old man his shot gun. "I believe this is yours."
The old man took the gun but continued to stare. Irons smiled. "As I said, I've seen worse." He shrugged. "Back in the hospital, and in the mirror." He waved his right hand at his blank stare. "Hello!"
The old man shook his head then turned and sat down. He held his crutch then tossed it to one side. "Well, now that you’re in here, what do you want?" he asked.
Irons sighed. "I want to lease your ship captain," he said patiently.
"Ole Betsy? She's not any good. I swore she wouldn't fly again after what happened to me the last time." He turned so his burnt side was in the light.
Irons nodded. "I can fix her. If we have time. We need to use her to salvage Firefly. She is our only chance," Irons explained.
The old man cackled for a moment then started coughing. "Here have a drink." Irons handed him a water bottle. He took a sip and grimaced.
"Water. bah, Moonshine's better." He spat.
"Moonshine would have had you coughing even worse," Irons replied with a smile.
"That it would. What'd you say your name was again?" the old man squinted at him.
"Irons. Admiral Irons. Fleet Admiral."
"Admiral!" Gutierrez tried to reach for the shotgun across his lap but Irons placed a restraining hand on it.
"Fleet Admiral, Federation navy. I am a sleeper," he smiled.
"Pull the other one, it's got bells on. You're younger than me, whipper snapper."
Irons chuckled. "I'm a rejuv among other things." He held up his right arm. "Also a cyborg."
Gutierrez stared. "Now you’re really putting me on. Them died out in the war. None left but Logan." Irons smiled and keyed his demo. Gutierrez's remaining eye went wide.
"Lordy be, you are..." He began to cough again. Irons waited it out then gave him the water bottle.
"Well, that's a bit different," the old man wheezed.
"I can offer you full medical care and a full restoration of your ship," Irons said patiently as the man sat back.
"Medical care eh? Like what, some spackle and a physical by one of them pretty doctors?" He shook his head.
"No, you can have a full repair, including a rejuv." Irons said.
"Repair! Ha! There ain't nothing that can repair this!" he patted his stumps. "Or this!" he pointed to his missing left eye. Irons smiled.
"Well if you don't want or your body can't take cloned body parts you could have cybernetics like I have." He sat down and rolled up his pant legs.
"What do you..." Irons keyed a sequence and his legs morphed. Tool compartments opened and a pair of shield generators came out.
"Well, I ah..." Gutierrez shook his head. Irons returned his legs to normal then rolled his pant legs down.
"I lost my right eye. Both ears as well. I have cybernetic replacements now, cloned tissue with a weave of cybernetics." He looked at the old man. "Or you can go the more traditional method. It's up to you." Irons shrugged.
"Um..." Gutierrez looked around. "I need a drink," he muttered then shook his head. "I go as well. Where Betsy goes, I go."
Irons nodded reluctantly. It wasn't like he didn't know that had been coming. "IF!" He held up a finger. "If the Doc clears your heart and circulatory system. I don't want you getting a heart attack while under way captain. I don't want your death on my conscience I've had enough of that already thank you."
Gutierrez scowled then nodded. "The medicines, ship rebuild, and implants. And fuel there and back, I sold all of Betsy's years ago." He shrugged. Irons nodded.
"And I get to keep all my parts and excess fuel," Gutierrez added. Irons smiled and nodded again. "Well, put her there." Gutierrez spat into his right hand then held it out. Irons repeated the gesture then they shook hands.
"I want it in writing or no one gets on old Betsy. I'll check with Horatio to make sure this is all on the up and up." Irons nodded.
"Prudent. I was going to go..." He turned as the door behind him opened.
"Dad some guy's been asking about you..." A woman came in and stopped at seeing the Admiral. "Huh, looks like you found him. Out!" she pointed. The Admiral's eyebrows rose.
"How did you get through the gauntlet Casey?" Gutierrez asked.
"Gauntlet? Oh you mean Perdu and his death brigade?" she sniffed. "I tossed Perdu his weekly prote
ction fee, what else?" she said with disdain.
Irons chuckled. "So that's how it works." He shook his head.
"Dad you didn't let him..." Gutierrez looked guilty. "You did!" She started to argue. Irons backed up then turned, trying to give them space. He tried to tune out the argument.
"I'll just get a drink," he said. They didn't even hear him. He went over to the food replicator and went to work on it. Someone had spliced in hoses to a pair of tanks outside the main unit. Most likely the food lines were fouled he surmised.
"It don't work again, piece of crap," the woman said. "Hey leave that alone!" she waved to him. He was putting the access panel back on.
"It's fixed," the Admiral replied.
"Fixed? Yeah right," she sniffed. He tapped the controls and ordered a cup of coffee. In a moment the replicator lit and then a cup formed.
"Well!" she sniffed, eyes wide. Irons smiled.
"I am a sleeper like Chief Logan. He's a friend. Actually, he served under me briefly before the war." Irons shrugged as he took the cup out and took a sip. He grimaced.
"What, doesn't taste right?" Gutierrez asked.
"A little off. A little hot too. I think the microwave guides need to be replaced. The water has an aftertaste to it, most likely because of crap in the lines." He shook his head studying the unit. "Cheap. I ran into that on other parts of the station. They used plastic instead of copper for the water lines. Plastic picks up corrosion and bacteria over time. You don't get that with copper, it forms an oxide patina that fights off that sort of crud."
Both Gutierrez looked at him confused. He looked up from his cup. "Copper acts as an antimicrobial. It forms a protective sheath when exposed to concentrations of microbes or minerals. It kills microbes," he explained then shrugged.
"Well, you are full of surprises," Gutierrez chuckled slapping his knee. His daughter turned on him giving him a quelling look. "Now Casey, don't lord up on me. I knew what I was doin'. Besides, the deals done, we shook on it," he nodded firmly to Irons.
"But nothing is in writing yet I suppose." She turned on Irons. "Writing too good for you?" she asked with a sniff.
"Not at all. I just didn't bring the materials. Besides. I recorded the entire agreement and uploaded it to the station already," Irons replied with a smile and a salute of his coffee cup. She gave him a disbelieving look.
"Check the mainframe if you doubt it. Under new contracts. Emergency. Cross reference pirates and your father's name. Add mine as well if you need to.”
She crossed over to a desk and sat down. She typed at the keyboard and studied the cracked LCD then looked up to her father. "He's right, it's there." Irons nodded.
"See? I also made an appointment for your father." He cocked his head.
"Ten fifteen tomorrow morning is her earliest Admiral," Sprite answered. Irons grimaced.
"Ten fifteen is the earliest Anvil's Chief Medical Officer doctor Thorby has open," he sighed.
"Thought you were in a hurry?" Gutierrez asked.
"I am, but we can work on the parts lists for your ship while we wait," Irons looked over to the captain.
"I've got a list around here somewhere," Gutierrez waved. His daughter got up and came back a few moments later with a crumpled up, stained paper.
"Not much to go on. Can you tell me the make and model of the ship? Her engine? Parts?"
Gutierrez cackled. "Why, sure I can. She's a mutt like me Admiral, just trying to warn you though. About the only thing original on her is her frame." Irons chuckled.
"Not a problem. We'll get her sorted out. I'll upload the parts to Angie to start replicating now."
"New?" Casey asked in disbelief. "So it's true? The replicators are working and there really are pirates coming?" she asked staring. Irons grimaced.
"Right on both counts. Unfortunately," Irons sighed.
“What are we going to do?” she asked suddenly anxious.
“We're going to use your dad's ship to get a derelict and put it into service,” he replied.
"Admiral, Doctor Thorby rescheduled a rejuv job for tomorrow to make an opening," Sprite interrupted.
The Admiral's eyebrow rose. He looked at the ceiling. "That was fast, what brought the change of heart?" he asked.
"What?" Casey asked confused.
"I sort of put in that it was important," Sprite reported. Irons nodded.
"Now?" he asked.
"In an hour," the AI reported. Irons nodded and looked over to them.
"Sorry, implant communications. The doctor just bumped someone to make an opening for you. She says she will see you in an hour." He looked over to the captain who nodded. "I tell you what, why don't you change and we'll pick up a snack along the way." He straightened. Casey stiffened.
"I can replicate a new coverall if you need," Irons said softly. He tapped the controls. In a minute a fresh coverall was in the opening. He took it out and handed it to the captain.
"It's a temp job. Good longer lasting ones need a textile replicator or tailor," Irons explained.
"How did you do that?" Casey asked. "I thought it only did food," she said, confused.
Irons smiled. "They can do a lot of things if you know the coding tricks or can bypass the software walls. I know both." He shrugged.
"She's a large Admiral," Sprite said.
"Want one?" he asked as her father struggled to get up, then limped into another room to change.
She cleared her throat. "Yeah."
He nodded. "Sure, coming right up."
Irons led them past the wary corridor gang then through the vagrant sections and to the lift. "Deck one," he said.
"I ain't been there in years," Gutierrez said softly.
Irons nodded. "It's under new management. The Port Admiral quit."
Casey smiled. "I heard that you’re in charge now."
Irons nodded. "For now. Once this crisis is over we're going to set up a system government." He felt the lift bump then the doors opened. A guard looked at them.
"Not more ragamuffins," he muttered. Casey scowled blackly. The guard looked at Irons and got out of the way. Quickly. Irons pulled her out of the lift and away before she could say something.
"This way." He led them to a sandwich shop. "Reggie, can you fix us up? We're on a time crunch.”
The proprietor came out wiping his hands. "For you Admiral, sure thing." He looked over to the Gutierrez family. "Who are your friends?" he asked.
"This is Captain Gutierrez and his daughter Casey. The captain is going to help us in this crisis. He has a date with Doc Thorby in a half hour so we decided to stop for a bite." He shrugged not willing to admit it was most likely the first real bite to eat any of them had probably had all day, let alone for several days from the look of the Captain.
"Captain eh? Of the yacht?" Reggie asked slicing a loaf of bread. Gutierrez looked confused.
"No, he's an inner system captain. Sub-light tender Betsy Lu Anne," Irons smiled. "Your wife?" He turned to Gutierrez who nodded. His daughter rested her hand on his right arm.
"Here you go Admiral." Reggie handed a sub to each of them. "Charge it to the station as usual right?" Reggie asked with a smile.
"You got it," Irons smiled. He led the two over to an outdoor cantina area. He pulled out a chair for Casey, then another for himself and her father.
"Nice," Casey said looking around. Irons nodded. The captain was already digging in. He had put on a hat to cover his burned head. He looked embarrassed.
"I'm sorry captain, if you're uncomfortable..." Irons felt a pang of remorse when he noticed the looks they were getting from the other patrons.
"Makes no never mind," the captain said between bites. "Be gone soon. Good to shake the blighter's up a bit anyhow. If they got a problem with me they can shove off." Irons smiled.
"You tell em daddy," Casey said smiling in approval.
"Well, you sure know how to pick them." The doctor sat back in her chair with a weary sigh. She picked up her glasses and put them
on. Irons gave her a look. "What?" she asked looking up from the tablet.
"Glasses Doc?" he asked amused.
"Oh these?" She laughed as she took them off and looked at them then put them back on. "Reading glasses. I never took the time to get my eyes treated." She shrugged.
Irons chuckled. "Well, they say doctors make the worst patients..."
She looked up, mouth puckering. "Oh shut up," she said then laughed.
"So, is he going to live?" he asked.
"He's a mess. By rights he should have died off a long time ago." She shook her head. "He's a wonder. From what I can tell he's a descendant of a genie, I was just about to look up his record. He's definitely some descendant, a normal human would have died from that." She shook her head. Irons nodded.
"I've got him on antibiotics, pain relievers and dermal regenerators. The scar tissue is pretty extensive, It will take multiple baths to sort that out." Irons nodded.
"He's a candidate for the implants when you’re ready. First customer," the Admiral said. She looked surprised. The Admiral shrugged. "He insisted. Since you’re going to be tinkering with him anyway..." He shrugged. She smiled.
"Now that's incentive," she chuckled, then spun her chair left and right several times. "He's got a healthy immune system. The antibiotics are to flush out anything that got by it. We'll keep him on the antibiotics and anti rejection treatments to keep his system clean while we do the repairs. The dermal grafting is a given, but you're right, the eye and limbs..." She shook her head. "I can't do anything like you Admiral."
Irons chuckled. "I wasn't intending on asking. Cloned limbs and organs will work. Nanite weave. The nerve grafts are admittedly extremely tough to get right, even with nanotech. But if you could work in a rejuv and a basic civilian grade implant..." he suggested. She picked up a stylus and tapped it against her lips for a moment.
"Maybe. I think I could do the basic ident implant tomorrow. That seems pretty straight forward, just a nanite pill properly programmed. I heard about it when I visited Io. The transceiver though..."
He shrugged. "So start small, then grow. One step at a time. Don't get bogged down by the over all picture."
Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 26