Two techs lost their grips and fell to the deck. "Okay folks, all clear," the communications tech said from the overhead.
Molly nodded. "You okay ladies?" She turned to the two techs picking themselves off the deck. One of them nodded. “We're good!”
"Must have passed through the rift, or too near a lost object," Jennie said, peering into the open panel at the circuitry inside. "I still think we should work on the hyperdrive instead of the sensors."
The engineer shook his head at the thought of playing with a drive while it was in use. "You dummy, you can't work on a hyperdrive in hyperspace!" Molly called, hefting her toolbox.
"That's true. Besides, the compression ratio is exponential in the higher bands, so we have to have fully functional sensors and navigational deflectors before hand, or we'll end up as plasma," the engineer interjected before Jennie could snarl a reply.
Molly nodded. "You mean we'll be going faster right?" one of the techs asked.
"Yashi, the other screwdriver, the one with the star head," a girl said. She turned back to the engineer who nodded as he too turned his attention to the panel in front of him.
"Yes, once we get to the star system we will take the hyperdrive off line and give it an overhaul." Molly giggled. "Yeah, we'll be at the next port three times as fast! Won’t they be surprised!" Jennie grinned.
"How bad is the damage?" he asked as the door opened and he stepped through the opening. "OH!" A woman squeaked, trying to cover up. Her blouse was torn, her right shoulder exposed. Molly was holding a blood soaked rag to it.
"What happened?" his voice tightened instinctively.
She looked up. "We had a small accident," she said and winced. She waved her free hand dismissively. He grunted. That was obvious.
"Burn or cut?" he asked. The girl shifted, trying to pull her blouse up.
"Hold still will you!" Molly ordered. She looked back up. "Burn, plasma vent," she said quickly. The woman grimaced and gasped a little, rocking back and forth. "I said, hold still!" She looked over to him. "We were bleeding a plasma line when a seal popped. She was nearby and caught the edge of it." He walked around the girl, taking a look. The thermal image showed the blood flow, Most of it had stopped. "Corona discharge?" He shook his head. "Sorry about that miss." She looked up.
She was pale, eyes puffy from crying. "It's okay." She got out, grinding her teeth.
The nurse bounced up and gave her an injection. "There! That should help!" She pulled the injector away and skipped back to the doctor.
"Ahhh..." the girl said and slumped.
Her eyes became glassy. "What did she give her?" Molly looked up concerned. "Not that I'm complaining if it took the pain away and keeps her from fidgeting." She looked over to the nurse who was bent over at the waist, looking over the docs shoulders. Her tiny hands were on the back of his chair. She kept bouncing, making his chair jerk.
His jaw tightened. “Local anesthetic most likely. Doc is checking her medical history before he starts cloning tissue." She looked over to the box near the doctor.
"Oh, that's the micro dermal grafter you fixed the other day? Nice timing!" the doctor responded as he chuckled.
"Yeah, and I need to get the cloning tank set up. Doc had the nurse disinfect the chamber; if it's good to go we should have it back on line in an hour," Irons said. He nodded to the ladies and got to work.
“Almost done there?” He looked up to see Molly looking over his shoulder, hands on her knees. He sat up straight, and then turned to face her better. “Just about. We can't do much more without more molybdenum, we've gone through the stockpile, and scavenging isn't getting us enough.”
Molly pushed her glasses up. “Yes, I heard that the replicator has cleaned out a lot of the supplies. We're getting complaints from the purser.”
He grunted in irritation. “I don't think we can do much more until we get more material,” he said as he nodded.
“Well, we'll have to do something about that in our next port,” she replied with a smile and nod.
With the guards outside the compartment he took a moment to check in with Sprite. He looked around as he sat down, nursing a drink. "Sprite, got a moment?" He knew she did, she was designed to serve him as his adjunct, but she had been using an inordinate amount of processing time repairing the ship's software over the past several months.
"One moment Admiral. There. Okay," she replied. Her image came up on the HUD. "No listening devices detected," she reported.
He nodded. "Good to know. Keep checking." He sat back. "So, what do we know about the remnant?"
She processed the data for a moment, and then the holographic projector lit. The lights dimmed and a 3D view of the galaxy spiraled out. "This is Federation space as we knew it," she said. She highlighted the sections of the spiral arm going inward to the core.
"That was up to date when we went into stasis. Now, from the Intel I've gathered, these sections are dead," she said. He watched as stars blinked red, and then faded to out.
"How are you getting this?" he asked.
"Based on cross referencing multiple sources, including a few news feeds buried in the network," she replied. He nodded in understanding. "Do you want to see them?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No," he answered softly. He knew it would be painful. "Continue."
"All right, these are known surviving worlds in this sector, the green are worlds this ship visits in its circuit." She highlighted twelve colonies. “The nine orange ones are systems this ship has visited, but are confirmed as dead.” They faded after a moment. "The two blue ones are of particular interest, both are cross road systems, but one is one of the few remaining industrial centers," she said. He nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm glad some industry survived. It gives hope for the future,” he rumbled. Her image came on; she was wearing an electric purple gown with shimmering lights and chrome jewels.
"My aren't we fancy? What's the occasion?" he asked amused.
She curtsied. "Just thought it was time to change my outfit, a girl does need a wardrobe."
He smiled at her whimsy. "All right, now what are these yellow stars?"
She turned back the chart. "Oh very well. The yellow are stars with conflicting reports. The orange are also conflicting, but at least two sources report the system is destroyed or abandoned," she reported. He nodded.
"And the yellow?"
She highlighted them and the rest faded. Data scrolled near each. "Well, some have some mention in the personal archives of the purser as potential sites to investigate. A few are possible cross roads that the crew has heard about from gossip," she said. She shrugged. "Not much to go on," she said, sounding annoyed.
He waved a dismissive hand. "Not a bad start. What about the white one?" He pointed to it.
"That's a major system, apparently it survived the war and its population rebuilt. They are rabidly isolationist, so we've little to go on except a two paragraph notation," Sprite replied. She scrolled it. Most of it was a warning not to go near the system.
"Hmmm," he rumbled in thought. He placed his chin on his closed fist, studying the star chart.
"Okay, what about the purple ones?" he asked. He indicated the few purple ones. Each highlighted, with a series of red circles spinning around them.
"Those are possible surviving Xeno colonies," Sprite replied darkly.
He looked up alarmed. "You’re kidding right?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I'm afraid not Admiral, there's no mention of them in the archives. None at all. So until more Intel data can be obtained..." she said suggestively.
He sighed. "Yeah, the war may not be over," he said with tight lips and a grim look to the future. He shook his head. "Great."
She cupped one florescent hand around the stars, and then used her free hand to flick each away. "Admiral, it's not all doom and gloom after all, since they haven't had any activity in the past six hundred and ninety odd years, it may be inferred that they are dead."
He
shook his head. "Remember what they said about assumptions and wild ass guesses," he warned darkly. He reached out and spun the image. "Okay, so, drop the planets that are not on the route." He watched as only the twelve were left. "Now, highlight the agrarian worlds in green, and fade them," he ordered. She did so.
Now, let’s see, that leaves the two you mentioned before and two others... what about these two?" he asked. He pointed to each. Data began to scroll under each.
"According to the purser's log, Proxima is a semi industrialized world. Actually, they are at an early industrial age if you follow the Terran pattern," Sprite reported. He nodded.
"But, I didn't mention them because they're not a cross roads, only this ship goes to it,” she said. He nodded. "Okay, good to know. Pass. What about this one?" he asked.
She highlighted the next. "Gaston. Again, it's above Iron Age, they have a North American early 17th and 18th century culture, a little less than the last, but they have immense potential."
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "How did you come about that?" he asked.
"From this," Sprite replied, playing a log section. He scrolled through it fast.
"Hmmm. Okay, so she spotted a field of shuttle craft..." His finger followed the line of text... and ah, okay, she noted the agrarian combines in the fields as possible salvage." He sat back. "Gaston. Okay. Gaston, what were the other three?"
Sprite pulled up the planets. "Proxima, Seti alpha 4, and Pyrax," she said listing them. He nodded. "Curious, the Captain mentioned she is from New Dublin, but they don't go there?"
Sprite shook her head. "There's no reason why mentioned in the Intel I have gathered. It's a space based colony, fractured into a dozen asteroid clans. All patriarch leadership from the comments observed," she said dryly. He nodded.
"Bad blood?" he asked.
"I have no data to confirm or deny, but the possibility exists," Sprite replied. He nodded again.
“I seem to recall some of the crew mentioning that they were treated as slaves,” he mumbled. Sprite's eyes shifted back and forth. “Accessing audio logs. Word search... I have it,” Sprite paused to digest the new tidbit.
"Based on the overall gender demographic of the crew, that may be likely," she finally said.
He nodded. "Okay. Highlight the planets that the crew has come from, one dot per person." Most of the dots centered on New Dublin.
“Okay, the doctor is from Seti Alpha 4 right?" he asked. He pointed to the system.
"Yes Admiral."
“And these are...” He pointed to another group around Gaston.
"One life support tech currently in stasis, a Miss Audrey Hemphill, and five crew assigned to cargo," Sprite informed him.
He shrugged. “Okay, what about this one in Pyrax?"
"A Miss Rodriguez. She grew up on a space station according to the files, and has extensive engineering experience. Most of it small craft related," Sprite replied.
He nodded. "Good to know,” he said with another nod.
"Admiral, are you in there?" He looked over to the door.
"Yes!" He waved the hologram away as the door opened.
"Sorry to bother you, I was just going over the roster and we need to work out the grave yard shift again, Candy is throwing a fit because it would mess up her relationship with Cherise.” Molly shrugged. "Can you help?" she asked hopefully.
He nodded and held out his hand to the tablet. "Sure."
She smiled. "Thanks."
"Captain says to get to the greenhouse and see what's going on there," a young woman reported to him over the communications channel.
He nodded. "Aye Aye." He closed the channel and looked up to Jennie and the guard. Both were not looking happy.
"Greenhouse, I think I should check in with Molly..." Jennie said, backing up then taking the corner at a trot. He snorted.
The guard glared as Jennie retreated. "Great. I hate that place," she muttered darkly, nose elevated.
He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the hatch opened. A cloud of foul smelling air escaped. "Close the damn hatch!" Someone called from behind him.
The guard gagged, waving her hand over her face. "I'll just wait out here," she choked out, eyes watering. One hand was over her mouth, head turned away.
He shook his head. "Okay," he replied, not happy about having to go in either. He stepped over the knee knocker and toggled the hatch shut. It closed with a groan.
The lights were bright, almost too bright. They bathed racks of plants that covered almost every centimeter of the compartment. "Are you going to fix it?" a grouchy voice demanded. He turned to see a short older looking fat woman coming over, wiping her hands on a towel. Her arms are filthy, covered in dirt up beyond her elbows.
"Fix what the smell? Smells like a clogged septic system," he said as he wrinkled his nose.
"Huh what?" She cocked her head. "Oh that?" she asked as she flapped her arms dismissively. "You'll get used to it sonny."
She waved to the side. "Nah, I meant the computer. An alarm keeps going off. I had to yank the speaker wires to get it to shut up!" He stepped around a potted plant. "Careful! Careful! Those are my prized strawberries! Worth their weight in gold they are!" He nodded.
He checked out the display, and then turned to the woman. "The alarm is because the atmosphere is contaminated."
She looked confused. "It is?" She flicked a clod of dirt off one arm. "Even the computer is complainin now?" she demanded. He realized suddenly that she couldn't read.
"Yes ma'am, that smell, is ammonia. Too much of it poses a hazard," he explained patiently. She looked confused. He pointed to what looked like a pile of manure. "I am assuming it's that."
She looked over to the pile. "That's for the plants. We need to fertilize things. No dirt in a ship," she said. She gave him a challenging look.
He nodded wisely. "Yes Ma'am. But on a ship chemicals can cause all sorts of problems. That headache you’re getting is one of them," he said.
She glared. "Just how did you know...?"
He smiled. "Ammonia," he said.
She nodded, eyes narrowed. "Well, it wouldn't be such a problem if I could get some help," she growled. She gave a dark look to the hatch. "Young twerps don't know what they're missing. Too lazy. Don't want to work. They don't realize this is needed!" She cradled a blossom.
He nodded. "Yes Ma'am." She cradled the blossoms from another plant. "The Captain loves these azaleas," she murmured.
He nodded in understanding. "Plants supplement the galley supplies, uplifting moral with their bounty and with their beauty."
She gave him a long searching look. "You buttering me up son?" she demanded.
He smiled. "No Ma'am. Just quoting the academy manual," he said truthfully. She glanced away, then back to him.
"So, how do we fix the alarms?" she asked, tone softening only a little.
He nodded to the pile. "Well, first we need to contain that." She looked confused. "We can get some barrels extruded, and put them in it. There are also tanks there." He pointed to the sanitation tanks. "That probably could be cleaned and purged," he said, knowing he was going to be stuck doing it himself. So much for his clean uniform.
She nodded. "I run the sludge through the algae tanks and the farm. Cleans the water and feeds the plants."
He smiled at her with a knowing nod. "It's a dirty job though, you up for that?" she demanded. She gave him a long measuring look, noting the smudged coverall. "Guess maybe you aren't worried about getting yourself dirty," she finally said with a note of approval in her voice. He chuckled and waved her to the sanitation tanks. Sludge was dripping down the sides of some; mold was growing around the seams. Yup, this was going to get messy he thought.
"Hey! Robot man! COME OVER HERE!" He looked up to see a brown haired tall woman battering a computer console. Jennie winced when she took a hard swipe at it. "Piece of crap won’t work!"
"Well, for one thing hitting it doesn't help," he grunted. He'd spent all day yesterday with the gr
umpy head gardener getting her recycling system sorted out. It had taken a half hour in the shower to get the stench out. He winced at her behavior. This was a typical thing for layman; beat a machine when you don't know how to fix it. Of course that was also rule one of any engineer, if it doesn't work your not using a big enough hammer.
"Well robot man, do your stuff and fix it!" she demanded. He frowned at her tone.
"First off, I am not a robot, I am a cyborg," he said.
She looked confused, then fished out a toothpick and stuck the tip in her mouth. "That's so? Not what I heard," she accused.
He snorted. "I'm human. Just not with all my original parts."
Jennie giggled behind him. "What are you trying to do?" he asked.
He flicked a glance to the computer. "I'm trying to read this here novel. But the infernal machine won’t work. Kicks it out, says somethin about a virus or some such," she growled. He nodded.
"I turned the firewall and antivirus software back on. It's kicking you out because that," he cocked his head to the crystal data cube she was tossing in her hand. "has a virus on it."
"I thought only humans could catch a virus?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Someone, terrorists, malicious pranksters, con artists, or whatever created them to do damage or steal information," he explained.
Jennie nodded. "Yeah Taki, now the network is running much faster ever since the Admiral fixed it,” she interjected.
"That so?" she asked, lounging back. "So what do I do about this?" she demanded. He frowned.
"Well, we could access the computer and see if we can find the novel in the data banks. I think it'd be better to read on a tablet or in your quarters however," he suggested.
She gave him a cool look. "I like it fine here."
He shook his head and pointed to the console. "Miss that's the computer network node for this deck. All the computers on the deck interconnect to it and to other computers on other decks. When you or someone else uses it for stuff it wasn't built for, it slows the entire network down, which can cause problems,” he explained. She looked over to Jennie who nodded in agreement.
New Dawn (Wandering Engineer) Page 15