"Here you can use mine," Jennie said. She handed Taki a tablet. "I have a spare," she mumbled. Taki took the tablet, flicked a glance at it then nodded to them and left without a word. The guard stepped aside for her.
"Quite the character," the engineer commented as the woman left.
"Oh who miss Taki? She's good with the girls in the cargo and fuel section," Jennie replied. He nodded as Jennie started working on a damaged control run.
"So, you’re not a robot?" the guard asked.
He shook his head. "No, cyborg," he replied. He turned to smile, and then checked the computer over. He plugged in and let Sprite go to work. "A cyborg is part organic, part machine." He patted his right arm with the tips of his left fingers.
"I thought the Feds were cloning stuff? Why didn't they make you a new arm?"
He nodded. "They were. You see, I was a Rear Admiral when most of this happened.” He flicked his left hand to his right arm, then down to his legs. "I was injured in the battle of P34CV9," he explained as if that meant anything to her. He glanced at the display for a moment.
"You were hurt?" Jennie asked, concerned.
"A bulkhead shattered and a couple spanners ripped me up. It took my legs and arm and chewed up my right side," he said matter of factly.
He grimaced in painful memory as the women widened their eyes at the horror he described. "How did you survive?" the guard asked as Jennie sucked in a breath.
"I was wearing a skin suit. They have built in tourniquets that cut off areas that are injured to keep you alive," he explained.
"How, I mean, did it hurt?" Jennie asked. He nodded.
"Yeah, you could say that. I had to prevent the computer from knocking me out so I could stay coherent and command," he said and then shrugged.
Her eyes were wide. "You still commanded, even after that? What happened to the chain of command you mentioned?" she asked.
He grimaced. "We were hit hard; I was the only surviving flag officer. I had to stay in command to keep the fleet together to get them out," he sighed.
"When I was medivacked to a hospital station they were saturated with wounded. It would have taken months before I could have new limbs and organs grown." The guard’s lips twisted in a frown. "The Admiralty offered me a retirement, but I turned it down. The weapons board came to me and asked if I would volunteer to get bionics. I did," he shrugged as if that was all there was to the story. “The artificial bits are woven in with organic, in some places it is hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.”
"They aren't as good as a real limb, but they do have their bonuses," he said with a smile. Jennie and the guard nodded.
"How long did it take for them to put them together?" a nearby tech asked.
He cocked his head trying to think of a diplomatic answer. "Not long, but it took a while to get used to them. I was in rehab, that's rehabilitation for nearly a year learning how to use them," he replied. Jennie pulled a panel off and used the tip of a probe to test connections.
"So you were in a hospital for a year? I thought it took only a week to fix things!" the guard said. He shook his head. "It wasn't all fun and games; I spent a lot of time on the engineering board while I was recovering," he said, trying hard not to stray into areas he wasn't comfortable talking about. Jennie grunted and reconnected a fiber optic cable. "Try that." Proteus reported the data bus was back on line.
He nodded and gave her a thumbs up. "That did it." She nodded looking pleased and closed the panel up.
"What about your eye?" the guard asked as Jennie coiled the probe wires.
"Oh this?" He pointed to the right eye. "I lost that in a terrorist attack at the Vulcan shipyard when I was a Lieutenant Commander. It's both organic and inorganic, the medical nanites weaved a cloned eye with the optic nerve and added a few improvements to let me see better."
She gave him a long look. "If you say so." She shook her head then tossed it, making her hair dance. Her smile became urchin like. "So, no way I could get one huh?"
He snorted. "I doubt it, but you can check with doc once he gets up and running more."
She nodded. "I might do that."
They bundled up their kits and moved on down the corridor to the next job. "So why are the replicators so fast at making stuff here but not in the hospital?" The guard asked. Jennie rolled her eyes.
He smiled a soft smile. "Inorganic materials are easier to make. All the nanites have to do is re-arrange the molecules to create what's in the matrix." He explained.
"WHAT? NANITES?" The guard’s voice rose in terror. He sighed at the typical response, it was overdue. He had started to wonder if any of them knew what he had been talking about for the past several months.
"Nanites are robots. Machines in other words. You program them to do what you want. These are made to make things," he explained patiently, looking over his shoulder.
She shivered. "Organics are a lot harder to make. You have to have living cells to use as a substrate, and then they have to bond to each other and grow into the part you want," he explained. He dodged a girl playing with a soccer ball then stepped over a knee knocker. "See, inorganic use a feeder bank of material.”
“The computer feeds the materials into the matrix and the nanites reshape them on a molecular level according to what the computer programmed into them," he said, trying to get her to understand. He nodded to a tech in passing.
"What about the food replicator you fixed in the galley? That uses organics but makes plates," Jennie pointed out. He nodded.
"That's a little more complex. The base material is a complex mix of things that can simulate organics or other things."
She looked confused, and then shrugged. "You say so."
He chuckled softly. “I'll meet you later. I have to check in with Molly,” he said. He waved her on.
He looked over the shoulder of Jennie a few hours later. She was playing a card game, ancient, but immediately recognizable. "Ah, solitaire, the ultimate time suck." He smiled down at her when she looked up.
She blushed and then looked down, gathering the cards up. "Sorry, I was waiting and got bored," she mumbled.
He shrugged it off. "Everyone has their way with dealing with waiting. That's one of them, and is fine; don't take my comment as a judgment," he smiled as she looked up and nodded.
"So, what's on the agenda for this shift?" she asked as he helped her to her feet.
"Molly wants the life support repaired in the rear quarters; they've been blowing hair and drawing a lot of power."
She looked exasperated. "That was where we had the Talasians." She started off down the deck aft. "Talasians?" he asked as the guards followed.
"Yeah, we moved a clan two years ago. They did some work for the Captain." She shouldered her bag and then stepped on the ladder and looked down. "Coming down," she called, and then began to step down. He and the guards followed.
"I'm surprised that you had Talasians on the ship. An entire clan?" he commented as he stepped off the ladder on the next deck.
"Yeah, about thirty five of them." He heard the clatter as the guard behind him jumped the last two steps down.
"Only thirty five?"
Jennie nodded as they continued. "Yeah, but the kits were cute! Adorable!"
One of the guards sighed. "Yeah, but we've been picking fur out of the ducts and decks ever since," she said in disgust.
The Admiral turned and gave her a look. "Well, they hate enclosed spaces. Claustrophobia. They prefer wide open spaces. Under stress they shed," he said.
Jennie nodded. "Did they ever! They were nice though, one of them gave me a ring." She paused at the next junction and pulled out a piece of wire with the ring on it hanging from around her neck.
"Mindy kept pestering them for a ride," she snorted.
"I bet they left more to get away from her then enclosed spaces," one of the guards chuckled quietly.
He joined in the chuckle. "Yeah, I can see that, I can just imagine her wanting to decorate
them like Mister Whiskers." The giggles quickly turned into laughter.
"She could never get over how they walk on all fours, and that giant flat head, and the eyes on the stalks. I think she named the cat for them, those giant whiskers!" Jennie shook her head and ducked under a diagonal duct.
"Why were they migrating?" he asked as he negotiated the duct.
"Huh? Oh, they were worried about all the nasty things coming out of the empire," she replied distractedly. She opened a maintenance hatch. "And here we are."
He nodded. "What do you mean?" he asked as he set the tool kit down and studied the compartment. It had the usual mix of grime and wear, but also mixed with fluttering tufts of fur.
"The empire started growing about a hundred years ago. We didn't even hear about them until three years ago. They started with a pair of freighters, but they're growing," she explained. She pulled a rag out of her bag and began wiping a vent cover. "I think they started some nasty bigotry about that time too." He froze, making a mental connection and not liking it one bit. "What sort?" he asked quietly. He carefully wiped the control surface, leaving streaks of grime.
"People started picking on aliens. I mean non humans." Jennie replied in irritation and then sighed. "I don't understand it, they're in this mess right along with us, why make trouble?" she grumbled as she unscrewed the vent cover plate.
He grunted. "It's an old, ancient social dynamic." She looked at him so did the guards. "We have a history of resenting those different from us. Most species go through it at one time or another; humans have a tenacity to hang onto it though," he sighed and turned to them.
"People wanting power use it too," he explained, eyes hard.
Jennie fumbled her screwdriver. "What do you mean, people in power?" she asked.
"Well, people like Hitler, Mao Senjun, and the Xeno’s," he said darkly. The three of them had blank looks. "Each of them blamed people different then the baseline to the public during times of social depression. Over time they built a following and rose to power. People always need someone else to blame." He said with a grim look.
"And they would take out their frustrations on the ones they picked on," he continued after a moment. He shook his head.
"Oh," Jennie said softly.
"I don't understand, the Talasians were nice people, a littler reserved, and they looked weird, but they helped out here, they even spoke basic!" one of the guards said. He looked up with tired, world weary eyes.
"It doesn't matter to a bigot. All they care about is using them as an excuse to gain power, or hurt them," Irons replied.
She blanched. "That's sick," the other guard said.
He nodded. "Yeah, it is. Without someone else around, bigger and stronger, they could grow into a big problem," he said. Jennie nodded.
"Yeah, I always wondered about all the pirates. There's a lot more of them lately," she said. He jacked in then digested that simple statement.
"Probably bad. If it's linked to the bigots, they could be using piracy to fund their activities to gain power," Irons replied. The guards gave him a long look. "They steal from other colonies, blaming them for their lot in life and justifying it anyway they can. Then share the booty with the public at home. It keeps the public on the hook, sharing in the guilt and building resentment for the victims," he explained. One of the guards grunted.
The galley was the usual mad house for lunch. He was amused to see a line at both the counter and the food replicators. A girl was busy busing tables, looking rather flustered as she stacked dirty dishes onto a cart. He shook his head. "Have a seat Admiral; be with you in a minute," she said. He sat and watched the group. The girls in line chattered gossip, a few glanced his way. He nodded politely. "Here you go Admiral," the waitress said. He started to turn but his eyes locked onto the ceramic mug the waitress set in front of him.
"That's different," he observed. He picked it up by the handle and turned it around.
"You like it? It's from New Haven," she said. She curtsied and left.
He admired the rich red and black painting on the front. It was quite beautiful, with some hint of yellows in the sunset. "Nice." He took a sip and then took another look at the waitress. "Bit early for beer though," he snorted.
"Admiral, you've just ingested traces of lead and mercury." Proteus reported.
He looked over to the stein and carefully set it down. "Poison?" he asked. He glanced at the mug warily.
"Not enough to be lethal in those doses," Proteus responded. "But they build up over time." He nodded.
"Source?" He glanced to the kitchen.
"Checking historical records..." Sprite replied. That was unusual, Irons thought. He sighed and sat back as Sprite scrolled images and text on his HUD. "Found it, New Haven. According to the records they are a recent addition to the circuit. They export ceramics, as well as paint."
He nodded tracing a finger on the outside of the stein. "Proteus check the levels of toxicity at my finger tip," he murmured. He felt someone behind him. Defender brought up a rear view of the girl busing tables.
"Accessing. Nanites deployed. Samples acquired....processing...one moment. Testing complete. The lead and mercury is in the paint and glass like substance," Proteus reported. He nodded.
"I have a reference Admiral, actually two of them. The first comes from a historical database, the other from a holo novel," Sprite replied.
He blinked. "Holo novel?" He heard a clatter of plates behind him and instinctively turned. The blue haired girl was blushing furiously as she picked up broken plates from the ground around the cart. "Correct. Historical drama. It seems to be accurate. The novel is about a Renaissance painter who uses vermilion, a basic red shade," the AI reported. He nodded. "It has high concentrations of mercury, which causes poisoning over time. The painter got it from licking his brush tips."
The Admiral made a face. "And the lead?" he asked.
Sprite scrolled up a reference then played it back at normal speed. "According to the full version of the Encyclopedia Galactica you uploaded, lead was used in early formulas for paint, glass, and pottery glaze," Sprite concluded. He grunted.
"Okay,” he said. He looked over to the girl looking at him oddly. He smiled at her confusion. "Wireless communicator," he said in way of explanation. Her face cleared. "Make a note to alert the doctor and purser," he murmured. He watched as another person got her dinner and then stood by the counter.
In a moment she received another platter. Carefully she juggled it with her own to his table. "Hungry Admiral?" she asked. He nodded, not surprised it was Jennie.
"Thanks Jen, I'm famished."
She set the platters down and grinned. "I'm not surprised since you worked an entire shift without eating!" she teased. He chuckled as he picked up a fork.
"So why isn't he here?" the Captain asked, annoyed.
"I believe he's trying to recalibrate the starboard sensor arrays," Molly answered, looking up from her tablet. "Navigation said they're out of alignment still."
The tiny black haired navigator gave a confirming nod. "To calibrate them properly he said we need to launch a buoy at fixed distances, but we can't do it now, so he's trying to do the best he can until we can," she explained. She gave the Captain a nod.
"Page him, I want him here," the Captain ordered, giving the security Chief a commanding look. The blue haired Amazon tried to glare, but failed.
"As you wish Captain," she muttered after a moment. She flipped open her communicator and made a call.
The Captain looked up and around. "While we wait, let’s see how things are going. How is our fuel supply holding up?" she asked as she turned to Leri.
The white haired woman smiled. "A lot better since we sealed the breached tanks and patched the leaks. We're at forty two percent," she replied.
The Captain nodded. "And the sensors? You mentioned something about recalibrating them?" She turned to Shandra with an inquiring eye.
Shandra nodded. "We're still having problems with the starb
oard sensors and of course we haven't tested the repairs to the hyper sensors, but overall we're doing better than I have ever seen." She flicked the tablet controls for a moment. The lights dimmed and a hologram appeared over the table. Some of the department heads gasped. Taki sat back, chewing on her toothpick. Leri looked like a kid in a candy store, flicking her hand back and forth through the hologram.
"Well, it looks like you've been busy," the Captain commented, taking a sip of her tea.
"Oh not me Captain, the engineer did this. He just showed me how to use it," Shandra admitted. She gave a shrug to the security Chief who glared. She used her hands to turn the projector. "You see, this is our ship," she explained. She pointed to the center icon. "Port sensors are on line, and we have a running plot here." She cupped the port side of the ship.
"What's that fuzz on the other side?" Leri asked.
"That's the starboard side. Like we explained, the sensors are out of alignment so we need to fix them."
She pointed to the planet. "Once we get things sorted out we'll be in much better shape. I doubt any pirate could sneak up on us." She gave a triumphant look the Chief as she sat back.
"Indeed," the Captain said, hiding her smile with her cup. "And what about the internal sensors?" her gravelly voice didn't quite hide a note of satisfaction.
"We're making progress there, but they don't have the same priority as the exterior sensors. Those are a lot simpler to make and install," Shandra said as she touched the controls on her tablet. A moment later a deck plan of the ship came up. Sections of the ship were color coded in blue, green, yellow, and red. "The red areas are areas of the ship without sensors or that are open to space," Shandra shivered. "Yellow means areas with limited coverage. Blue and green mean ninety to one hundred percent coverage."
She pointed to an icon. "See, that's Jennie, the engineer and Tara coming now." The icon approached the door to the conference room. The chime sounded. "Enter!" Shandra called out triumphantly, ignoring the glare from the Chief. The door whooshed open and the trio entered.
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