“Ah, no...”
“Well now that elections are over and the politicians are settling in it seems the system senate put a ban on Naval salvage of civilian vessels unless they contain cryopods or ,quote, pose a threat to a colony.”
“Oh... lovely,” Vargess grimaced.
“Well, they are right, and despite the mutterings of poaching, we do have enough platforms without adding civilian ships to our mix.”
“But what about support ships?”
“I guess we'll have to make our own won't we?” Logan's smile was a grin.
“Oh aren't they going to twig about that?” Vargess asked.
“They can try. But we've got the only shipyard in the system. That means we can build what we want... once we get it finished.”
“Now that is a piece of good news.” Vargess turned to leave then paused. “Why Matilda?”
“I thought the college should get first crack at it. Since it's a science ship they will be best to use it after all. They could use it for exploration or as a roving college.”
“Well, whatever works,” Vargess shrugged.
“Damocles is coming along nicely. But I see Fuentes is leaping ahead as expected,” Logan said changing the subject.
“Yeah. That she is. We've got her first computer core going in. Since the Admiral is out and about it will be a while before we can get him and Sprite back here to initialize her AI.”
“Ah,” Logan nodded. “I noted the schedule shift. I'll drop a note for him to try to make time.”
“Oh no hurry. We've got a lot of damage to repair. And since we're at it, I'd like to upgrade her power rooms. She's got the old civilian class Smythe 2900 engines I think because someone slapped them in in a hurry. Since she's down anyways...”
“Oh hell,” Logan sighed. “You are talking a complete gut job by the time we're finished.”
“Exactly.”
“I was hoping to do that in a later refit you know.”
“Why wait?” Vargess smiled. “It just means we'll have to tear her down to do it then. Since she's all opened up anyway we could save some work down the road...” he said suggestively.
“Decisions decisions,” Logan said shaking his head.
“That's why they pay us the big bucks,” Vargess smiled.
“We get paid? Since when?” Logan joked. “All right, I'll look into it. I don't know what we have available. I haven't been stocking new engine parts you know, and it's not exactly like we have any we can use nearby,” he grimaced. “It's also going to throw my building schedule all to hell.”
“Well, I was thinking we could do a little trimming as well. I've got ten percent of the core personnel assembled. There is no point for us to be sitting around training in sims or doing college class work all the time. I was thinking if we rotate some in with the build teams it would speed things up.”
“You mean slow things down. They have to be trained first you know. And outfitted for that matter,” Logan rubbed his jaw. “Then again practical hands on experience in the field would probably be a welcome change. I'm not making any promises, let me kick the idea around and get back to you.”
“That's all I ask,” Vargess said with a nod.
Doctor Thornby smiled as an orderly came in. He looked a little concerned. “Something wrong Charlie?”
“Well ah, Doc ah, one of them pirate ladies is awake,” he grimaced. “The one that just got done regenerating her foot.”
“Oh?” Thornby rapidly scanned her e-mail then turned. “There is nothing wrong with that,” she said. To be honest the woman had been sleeping entirely too much. Sure they'd stuffed her in stasis while they got other injured under control. But still. She noted the concern in his eyes though.
“It's just that she's tried to jack into the equipment.”
“She what?” Thornby asked, sitting up.
“Jack in. She's got a jack I think.”
“Hmm.. I don't remember seeing that on her chart. Curiouser and curiouser.”
“Yes ma'am.”
CJ waited until the shift had changed before she tried to jack in again. She thought the orderly had caught her before, but it looked like she had slipped by.
She wasn't sure what good she could do, honestly her best bet was to lie low. But she had to do something. If not for herself then to avenge her fallen crewmates. Or at least tell her own people what was going on there if possible.
Come to think of it, getting the word out felt more and more appealing. She wondered if she could hijack a ship or at least stow away on one. Sure she'd jacked the Damocles as a coxswain, but she'd taken the hyper nav sims and she could hold her own.
But first she needed more information. She slowly cracked and eye and looked around. She was cuffed to the bed, but only with her left hand. The guard wasn't looking so she felt around her right ear and touched the implant jack.
She needed a cable. A universal cable would do. She brushed the hair aside and fingered the implant for a moment trying to decide if the risk was worth it. Most likely the station's system was full of viruses and crap. She'd have to be careful. She reached over and picked up a monitor. It was a spare, so she turned it around and grabbed the USB cord and tugged. The end popped out. She reached up and grimaced as she pushed the jack into her port.
She felt and saw a brief window open then blinding light and all hell broke loose.
“So she's got a jack?” Logan asked, staring in disbelief. They'd had the pirates for two and a half months now and they were just learning this?
“So what?” Vargess asked, looking around. He shrugged. “It's civilian grade. Big deal.”
“It is a big deal, since no one else has it but us,” Logan replied.
“What no one?” Vargess asked surprised.
Mayweather's avatar nodded. “He's right. No one that we know of. I've been all over this sector and haven't seen anyone with jacks until we came here,” she shrugged.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. This is significant in that they've taken the time to invest in this. We didn't notice it in the bodies.” Thornby grimaced. “I think we did a wash on them. We should have looked closer before consigning them to the deep.”
“What's done is done,” Irons said nodding. He rubbed his jaw.
“From the looks of it it is a crude civilian grade implant. Audio, data, and visual, with some tactile controls. No IFF and no Wi-Fi. No buffer or AI either. The coding is... crude. Ripped from something else I imagine,” Sprite reported.
“She's not talking either,” the Major frowned.
“Would you?” Thornby asked. She shook her head as he did. “Me neither.”
“Good operational security or something else? And why didn't we see this sooner?” Mayweather asked.
“I'd say a little bit of stubborn pride, mixed in with that. As to why, I didn't do a head scan,” Doc frowned. I've done one now on the others, she's the only one.”
“Oh? Why? Was she an officer or engineer?”
No, coxswain,” the Major replied. “Third level too. She was off shift when the battle began. Got into her suit but was injured when a bulkhead blew in. Lost her right foot and passed out. SAR party found her almost out of air. She's lucky the suit's tourniquet worked.”
“That is another thing. Suits like skin suits are tailor made to the wearer. Where did they get them?” Mayweather asked.
Logan looked away for a moment. “She's right. We've been overlooking a few pertinent details.”
“You mean someone wasn't asking the right questions or following up on leads. That's what you get for not having an Intel chief,” Sprite said acidly.
“Enough,” Irons sighed. “All right, we didn't know then but we do now. We've got some leads to follow. I'll see if I can tap someone to look into them. If any of you have candidates, let me know.”
“Yes sir.”
“This seriously upgrades the threat level though,” Logan said as the others signed off.
“Oh definitely
. If they are giving implants to third rate Coxswains, who else is getting them? Just imagine what they can do with them,” Thornby said shuddering.
“My sentiments exactly. We've got our hands full,” Irons scowled. “Time to find someone to put on it. Is she locked down?”
“Scared out of her mind and pissed. Fortunately her foot had been cloned and replaced, she was just in sickbay for therapy and recovery. Since she's so eager to get into mischief though, I'd rather she go somewhere else,” Thornby said.
“I'll transfer her to the brig ma'am,” the Major said nodding. “She can't get into trouble in there.”
“That'll do,” the CMO said with a smile. “I'll lock her out of her implants before you do though.”
“See that you do.”
The next morning Irons made his rounds, preoccupied by the thought of what pirates having implants meant. It was something to factor in. He wasn't sure if it was a game changer or not, at least not yet, but it was something to be concerned about. Which he was.
The techs grimaced, waving their hands. Irons rounded the corner and paused. They were listening to a voice over a radio channel. All seemed preoccupied.
“Go Wallee!” A young elf said, jumping up and down. He did a back flip.
“Number four Dagno's pride is in the lead as we round beacon four and head into the stretch. Crossing the line we've got four more laps to go!” the announcer said.
“I bet Dagno's got it.”
“Go baby go,” a young woman with purple hair said. She was braiding the hair of another crew member.
“I'll take that bet. Ten creds,” another tech said. She turned and caught sight of the Admiral standing there out of the corner of her eye. She shot to her feet. “Officer on Deck!” she shouted bracing.
The others scrambled to their feet and turned. One flicked a hand out and shut the radio off.
Irons snorted and walked over. He studied them then cocked his head. “Any of you on duty?” the crew members shook their heads no.
“Take it to the mess or a rec room,” he reached out and flicked the radio's power button back on. The announcer was off air. A radio commercial was playing for an Italian restaurant on Capella four. “Watch the betting,” he said after a moment of study.
“Carry on,” Irons said not turning and looking back as they glanced at one another in relief.
“You could have come down on them like a ton of bricks for betting,” Firefly said to him over his link as he rounded a corner.
“Could have. Would have, probably should have. But a good commander knows when to take a light hand. Letting them know I know and that I'm not going to interfere means I'm not a hard ass carrying a whip.”
“True. But it could mean you're a push over,” Firefly replied. Irons smiled grimly, nodding to a tech who flattened himself against a bulkhead to make a hole. “But something tells me that's not the story,” Firefly said with a snort.
“Exactly. Tell me, this radio broadcast. It's a race?”
“Yes. I'm receiving it as well. It is a weekly race the colonies put together centuries ago and have continued the tradition. It starts and wraps up with a race at the Daytona colony. Apparently they are the ones that started it. Just souped up space sleds Admiral.”
“And it's broadcast? By Knox and his compatriots I suppose?”
“Both in radio and now three dee format Admiral. Most of the system still only has audio transceivers however. There is a great deal of betting going on as well. The Ididerad is another major race. This is a race around the circumference of the system. Quite popular.”
“Typical,” Irons snorted. “Do the people the furthest away from the race know that they can get swindled?”
“Oh it's a live broadcast admiral. No time delay. Also all legal betting places close at the half way mark.”
“Smart. All it would take would be some people sending the winners to someone far away and they could clean house.”
“Apparently this was a problem and the steps I mentioned were put in to prevent their recurrence. Apparently our influence has begun to percolate to the racing teams. They have significantly improved from previous years. As you humans would say, they are leaving those who couldn't or wouldn't adapt in their wakes.”
“Ah. Smart,” Irons nodded. “And their crews and pilots will be great inspiration for the next generation of pilots and engineers. Some of which we can tap. Well, I suggest the morale officer allow the broadcasts on the ship's civilian channels and in the wardrooms and mess hall. Rec rooms as well. Make that a navy wide order. For any sporting events. Captain's final approval of course and only available to off duty personnel.”
“Aye Aye Admiral,” Firefly replied.
“But seriously, make it clear off duty personnel are allowed to view it or hear it. Duty shift personnel better keep their mind on the job,” Irons said nodding politely to a tech pushing a load of crates on a grav sled.
“Right. Good point as usual Admiral,” Firefly replied.
“Cute,” Irons snorted. “That includes officers and AI as well. The first time I have to take official notice of anyone slacking off or screwing up on the job and they will wish they'd never been born,” he said.
Firefly paused. “Aye Admiral,” the AI responded with a chuckle.
“See if we can pick up any of the racing teams or their pit crews. Maybe dangle fighter or shuttle pilot slots at them and see if any bite.”
“Okay...”
“And see if we can be a sponsor. And alert any ships in the area to make themselves available for SAR if needed.”
“Good ideas as usual Admiral. Both have precedence. I'll pass it along.”
“Good,” Irons nodded.
Logan smiled as his daughter came up behind him. "Hi honey, come to check the view?" he asked.
"How did you...? Wait, never mind, implants," she shook her head coming up to the view port. Her father was leaning against the guard rail studying the activity outside the station.
Logan smiled. "No, just caught your reflection in the glass." He tapped the glass. She nodded. "Beautiful isn't it?" she asked sounding amused.
"Something like that," Logan nodded. Outside the glass the factory ship was churning out parts as fast as it could. Her organic and mechanized crew were dividing their attention between their own repairs and the requests from everyone and his brother in the system.
"I hear one of the freighters is about ready to go. Hyper drive repaired..." Shelby smiled.
"Destiny? She's got a ways to go but they can do the minor stuff on the way. She's in need of a crew and captain. Going to captain her?" Logan asked giving her a teasing smile. She sniffed.
"Not hardly. I'm a navy brat through and through thank you. I have no intention of taking a bumbling unarmed freighter anywhere anytime. I'll stick to my roots." He chuckled as that shot went home.
"We're really pushing the pace here aren't we?" she asked after a moment studying the work crews outside. He grimaced.
"Yes and no. Once we get our feet under us, this will seem like baby steps," he turned to her.
"Great, more frantic work to look forward too," Shelby replied, trying not to sound too sour.
Logan laughed. "You'll get used it honey. We all will. At least no one is shooting at us. Yet." He straightened up. "How are things on Firefly going? Mayweather settling in?" he asked.
She smiled. "She's coming along. She shook things up a bit, it's taking time to get used to her command style." Her father smiled. She punched him in the arm.
"Owe! What was that for!" he asked rubbing his arm.
"For smirking."
"Oh, I was just remembering what we call it," Logan said chuckling.
She smiled. "Do tell."
He chuckled softly. "The navy called it the breaking in period or honeymoon time. Some people called it the breaking period because one or the other was breaking a horse," he shrugged. "I preferred the teething time."
"Oh." She shook her head. She grimaced as h
er implant communications pinged. "That's the captain. I better get back." She turned and hugged her father's shoulders then left.
Irons looked over to the avatars. There were two new ones, Fuentes and Vulcan. Vulcan was dressed as the roman god of the forge, golden skin, bare chested, and holding a hammer. His visage was more up to date, his character was a cyborg with a robotic right arm, leg, and right eye. He had a scarred bald head.
Vulcan was the AI for Hephaestus thirty three, the pirate factory ship they had captured and rebuilt. It was a level one AI like Smithy. Sprite had cloned most of Smithy's core programming and then grafted in neural networks to give the AI more intelligence and creativity. She'd wanted to have the AI grown as a full AI, at least a class two but he'd over ridden her. They needed that ship fully functional now so it could be out and about on it's duties.
Fuentes was dressed in a military uniform. The AI looked young, like an officer fresh from the academy. Obviously this new iteration of the AI had taken the military dress code seriously. Irons looked over to the other avatars. Smithy was giving Vulcan an occasional dirty look, he probably thought that he was stealing his thunder. Firefly was his usual stoic self. Sprite looked entirely too smug.
"All right, let's get this over with. You all know the rules governing AI. Sprite here..." He indicated his resident smart AI. "Wants to change the rules governing kernel code." He eyed them.
"I do not think that is wise Admiral," Firefly responded. Sprite turned on him with an et tu Brute look. "After our last problems with the neural lattice, I am leery about anyone altering my base code. I also have regulations to prevent it." The AI turned a stony look at Sprite. Irons nodded.
"I gathered that,” he nodded to the others.
"Admiral, I'm just a level one AI, I am not as smart as Sprite or Firefly," Smithy waved his hammer then rested the head on his shoulder.. "But..." he shrugged. "I do agree that some changes will have to be made to allow additional AI when needed. The reset idea sounds good in theory, but I'm worried about it and how it would affect job performance."
Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) Page 54