“Hopefully not,” he said grimacing.
“Yeah, definitely,” Sprite said again.
“We'll be going across the system and on to Briev and finally Triang. Since the intel we have indicates Triang is a populated system and another cross roads, I may stay there.”
“And what then?”
“I will either help the locals rebuild their civilization while I wait for a ship, or I will board a ship that is in orbit at the time we get there. I'm not sure yet. That part I am playing by ear.”
“Okay. Long term though. Do you ever plan to return to Pyrax?”
He frowned. That had been an anticipated question. Unfortunately he wasn't sure how best to respond to it. After a half second to gather his thoughts he decided to stick to his prepared answer. “I can't and wont rule that out. Right now I will focus on finding another seed system, a place that I can help restart civilization and rebuild the Navy. Once enough systems are set up I will think about returning.”
Her left eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Are you worried about your reception?”
“From the populace? Not if your boss sticks to the truth,” he answered. “Which he will since I know his reputation.” He shrugged. “I know the manufacturers and the Navy personnel miss me already,” he snorted.
“I'll say,” Sprite snorted.
“Why is that?” O’Neill asked, curious.
“As a flag officer I have the key codes to make and use replicators, reactors, hyper drives, and a host of other things.”
Her eyes went wide. The stylus she had been playing with fell to the floor. “You...”
He smiled. “Which is why as an officer of the Federation I am checked for honor, integrity, and honesty. I can't be corrupted. Which is another reason I have Commander Sprite. She makes sure I stay on the straight and narrow at all times.”
“You are right about that,” Sprite burbled from the overhead. He snorted as O’Neill blushed.
“I had forgotten about that. About her,” O'Neill seemed a little chagrined about that.
“Trust me, it's hard for me to, no matter how much I try from time to time,” Irons said dryly.
“Why Admiral, I'm hurt...” Sprite said.
He smiled. “But sometimes, I wouldn't want it any other way,” he shrugged.
April shook her head in bemusement. “Admiral about the gifts to the colonists... I'm curious as to why. Why go out of your way to give them so much without asking for anything in return?”
Irons inhaled deeply, straightening the seam along his midriff. “It's duty,” he said simply. “Duty, honor, paying it forward, and the golden rule.” His eyes met hers. “Duty in an officer to help the helpless, to right a wrong and protect those who need protection. Honor in doing those actions and making sure that those who committed acts of violence and terror are brought to justice. And finally the golden rule.”
“Which is?” she asked. He blinked at her in surprise. She didn't know it?
“I'm surprised and a little dismayed that you do not know it. It is empathy. To do unto others as you would want them to do unto you.”
She blinked at him and then blushed deeply. It looked flattering with the freckles across her nose. Even the tips of her ears were burning.
“Yes um...”
“Paying it forward?” he asked, smiling again. “That means helping someone in the hopes that someday they would return the favor with someone else. We do that all the time with our children, in teaching them and providing for them they provide for us and civilization in turn. It is a concept that should never be forgotten. Nor the golden rule.”
Miss O'Neill nodded politely. Irons sat back, finally comfortable with the situation. Come what may he'd given as good as he had got. He was at peace with what he'd said and done in Agnosta.
“Ah, thank you Admiral, it has been a most informative interview,” Miss O’Neill rose and held out her hand. He rose and shook it.
“My pleasure Miss O’Neill, perhaps we can do this again before the trip ends,” he smiled politely.
“You know, I'd like that. I'd like to get your take on the old Federation, and your input on how things have changed.” She nodded as the robot shut down.
“It can be arranged,” he nodded, wincing a little internally. He wasn't sure he really wanted to face his past just yet.
“I'll have my people call your people,” she said chuckling softly. He had to smile a little at that.
“Are you going to be a roving reporter?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, this assignment?” she asked. She shrugged. “I'm not sure. It's a lot. There isn't a lot going on except the assassination attempts.” She grimaced. She'd been busy on the planet, recording pieces but most of it had been boring. Hyperspace was the worst she'd realized. She'd mined quite a lot during their trip to Agnosta.
“Which I can do without,” he said with an answering grimace.
“I wish I could get one on film,” she sighed. He grimaced again. He was tempted to give her the footage from his implants but didn't want to compromise the investigation.
Her eyes gleamed. “You don't suppose... I mean since you dumped the footage on Vesta...”
“No,” he held up a hand. Her face fell. “No, not yet. When we catch the person or persons, then yes,” he said. She nodded looking a little crestfallen.
“I thought as much,” she sighed. “It will be yesterday's news anyway by the time we get back to Pyrax.”
“Well, you could dump what you have to each system. Get interviews in each system, and other things. Unfortunately it's going to be a while before we can get an ansible link set up.”
She stared at him for a moment, then her smile came back. “I keep forgetting you are a miracle worker. Do you honestly think it is possible?”
“We were building half of one in Pyrax before I left,” he said. Her eyes went wide. He shrugged. “The outer casing at least. It is tabled now that I can't be there to unlock the tech,” he explained. “But once I find another system, I'll set one up there. Then when you pass through you or others can buy time to send in your reports.”
The ansible was only one of many projects now on a back burner in Pyrax. The San Diego Bernal sphere was another. For that matter Prometheus, the yard... the list went on and on. Hopefully something could be done about that soon. He knew morale in the Fleet was probably in the crapper.
“I like that,” she grinned. “I like that a lot.” He chuckled. She cocked her head “There was something I was wondering. Why does the ansible have to be in a fixed point in space?”
He smiled. “You mean a L Point or subspace anchor? Because motion affects the ansible. Too much and it self destructs.”
“Um.. L...”
“Lagrange point. Like L5 back in the Sol system. It is a stable point in space where an object can be left and it won't drift and will remain fixed over one point. Anvil is in such a position. Which is why we were building the docks and annex as well as the beginning of the ansible station there.”
“But why not on a planet?”
“It is extremely difficult to get the cut muons down safely to the planet's surface. One good buffet of turbulence or jar in a vehicle in transit and they will... well.. poof!” He pantomimed an explosion with his hands.
“Oh,” she blinked then smiled again. He started to realize she was flirting with him. Drawing him out. She tucked her arm through his. “How about you take me out to lunch. Or I take you out,” She smiled again.
“You know, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot,” he chuckled softly.
He pulled a chair out for her. “I'm a little confused by this. You did reserve a private room,” he said as she sat with a polite smile. He tried to ignore the side long looks from other patrons, or the woman with children who gathered her young daughters close and left.
He wasn't sure who they had been. Either passengers going to Triang or Briev or someone new they had picked up. Obviously they didn't like him. He tried to put it out
of his mind. Some Skeptics refused to believe nothing but the worst despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. No matter how many times you rubbed their noses in the truth they wouldn't open their eyes and ears long enough to listen and believe. Oh well.
He had better more important things to do than worry about skeptics. Like enjoy the company of this lovely young lady. So far no one like her had sought him out. He wondered what her angle was. It felt like a bit more than just a reporter looking for a big scoop, he was almost certain of that.
She smiled a little, dimpling. “Of course. But you do need to be seen more,” she said picking up the cup of water in front of her and taking a sip. She had an aura of grace and sophistication, more natural than Willis and Mayfair tried to project. Interesting.
“So now you're vying with Sprite to become my publicist too?” he chuckled softly.
“No, I believe your AI can handle that,” she replied with a soft chuckle of her own. She gave him an amused look. “Although if the position is open and pays well...”
His chuckle turned into a laugh. “Right now it doesn't pay anything at all,” he said and then shrugged. “That will of course change when time and circumstances permit.”
“I'm willing to bank my wages for a later pay day,” she replied with another smile. He picked up his cup and took a sip. “And of course there are... other methods of payment.” One finger toyed with tracing a heart on the top of his. He nearly choked on the water.
She giggled as he took a napkin and wiped up the mess. “You shouldn't get a man's hopes up,” he said smiling. “Especially an old man.”
“You're what? Forty?” she said with a sniff and toss of her hair. “Piffle.”
“Try again. Upwards,” he chuckled sitting back as he rescued his hand.
She pouted a little. “Oh yes, the stasis. That doesn't count,” she shrugged.
“Glad to hear it,” he chuckled again. “And you're still off. By over half my age.” He watched her eyes widen in alarm.
“You're serious?” she asked after a moment. He smiled the smile wasn't quite a grin but it was close.
“Ninety three. Well, ninety four now.” He shrugged. “The benefits of modern medicine.”
“Oh wow. You're spry for an old guy. I've seen you work out,” she said batting her eyes at him and smiling a little.
“You have?” he asked in surprise. He could have kicked himself. How could he have missed her red hair? Or that yellow jumper of hers? They stood out like the sun!
“I've done my homework,” she replied. There was that sexy smile again. “It does make me wonder about aging. I wonder if I should do a piece on it?”
“Regen or aging in general?”
“Both. Just how spry are you?” she asked as the waiter brought over a tray with food on it. There was enough double entendre in that question to make him blink uncertainly.
He decided to take it at face value. No sense getting worked up about it. Things will happen or not on their own time table. “Physically I am in my thirties. And I will remain there.”
“For a couple of what? Centuries?”
“No, millenia most likely.” She whistled softly, eyes wide again. “Eons if I don't shuffle off by some other means,” he shrugged.
Her eyes widened even more. She paled a little and sat back. Her hands shook a little as she took up the cup.
“You are really that long lived?” Miss Willis asked from the table behind them. He turned to her and nodded.
“It isn't just the regen though,” Willis asked slowly. “It's your implants too right?”
Irons wasn't comfortable getting into the details but he had to say something. “Correct. Not much can get through to harm me. I cannot be poisoned, I won't dehydrate, and I can live for days without air and weeks without food or sleep,” he shrugged at their expressions. They were a mix of awe and horror. “Though I am cranky when I don't get enough of either.”
“Make that very cranky,” Sprite said dryly for his ears alone. He snorted softly.
“I never knew,” Willis murmured.
Irons shrugged. “Not many do. Regen treatments, metafactors, and gene-factor engineering can double, triple, or extend a life span by four or five centuries as long as the subject is careful and receives regular medical care. That is why people like Commander Logan are still around. He had only the most basic regen treatments in the service at the beginning of his career but he was still functional after over a century of life outside stasis. I do admit, I was hoping to see more though.” That last part came out a bit wistfully.
“Well, there was a war on,” O’Neill said, catching his hand again to get his undivided attention. He was surprised that she seemed jealous. It took him a moment to realize it was because he was paying attention to another woman.
“True. Too true,” he sighed. He patted her hand in thanks for the comfort.
“You lost everything. Your friends,” she shook her head. “I'm sorry. You must hope to run into some,” she looked down, looking a little lost and forlorn.
“I've come to grips with it,” he sighed, jaw tightening then relaxing. “I had hoped to see my family again, but that is most likely impossible,” he grimaced and then shrugged as she looked up, meeting his eyes.
“Family?” she asked surprised. He smiled a crocked sad smile.
“I had a son,” Irons said quietly and softly. “I was married a few times but I only had two children. My daughter died before the war. She was in the explorer corps. My son was your age when I went into stasis...” He shrugged to indicate he didn't know more.
“Ah,” she nodded. “He could still be out there somewhere. Or his descendants.”
He nodded. “Maybe. I doubt it. He unfortunately followed in my footsteps and became a spacer like his older sister. It is a hard life even in peace time. In war...” He shrugged and spread his hands helplessly.
“I'm sorry I brought it up, opened old wounds,” she murmured.
“No, some things have to be said. To be dealt with so you can move on. Sprite has been after me for a while to talk to someone about it,” he rumbled softly and then sighed. He looked behind him as Willis got up and left.
April seemed to relax a little. She picked up her fork and started in on lunch. “Aren't you going to eat? You may need your energy for later,” she said smiling a cat like smile.
“Oh?”
Her smile widened a little into a distinctive mischievous grin. There was enough anticipation there to surprise him. “Yes. I heard you're into martial arts. As it happens so am I. Think you can handle a bout or two?” she asked taking a bite and smiling a challenging smile.
“Depends on what kind of bout you had in mind?” he said, finally getting his own back as she blushed and squirmed a little. Her cheeks dimpled nicely. She had a nice smile he thought.
“We'll see.”
Irons glanced around the dojo. It was a small compartment, little more than four meters square, but adequate for the ship's company as long as they kept the bouts and audiences limited.
Apparently Ed the security chief and Bailey had combined forces to get this out of Charlie and the captain. It couldn't have been easy, the purser was a stringent pain in the ass. Apparently they'd sold the room on the fact that it was a good work out place for security to hone their skills... and just so happened to be a good place for the practitioners of yoga to use when they wanted.
Before it had been used as a storage closet instead of as it's intended purpose. With the cargo from Agnosta unloaded they now had the room to consolidate a lot of the other rooms, freeing up space.
It was off the small gym, practical in that it was located near the tiny public locker room and showers, but unfortunately it didn't have sufficient sound shielding. They could occasionally hear the metal on metal contact of weights nearby.
Equipment was velcro strapped on the walls here and there. Blocking pads, a shield, practice swords, an emergency first aid kit, all the basics. There was a small locker
for safety equipment. They had the basics in the room and that was what mattered.
Ed's security people had started to get into the martial arts, even going so far to start a formal match between opponents once or twice a week. They used cameras around the dojo to project the match to those who wanted to view it. So far no one had had the gumption to challenge him.
Yesterday's match had been pretty good. Sprite had shown him the video. Not bad. They weren't black belts but they moved like they meant business which was important.
April seemed to be settling down, she bounced a little, working the kinks out and stretching. Her face schooled into a proper neutral mask. Good. So she did know a little about martial arts.
He bowed to her as she grimaced and adjusted her belt. He'd gone to change in his quarters. She apparently had her outfit ready in the locker room. Interesting. She returned the bow hastily and then went into a horse stance. His practiced eye told him she was confident but not centered just yet.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked, fighting amusement. He was torn for once, not wanting to outpace her but also not wanting to make it obvious he was going to go easy on her. She'd insisted on going free hand, sans pads. He wasn't comfortable with that idea.
He had to admit she looked good in a gi, then again, he'd had a lackluster personal situation for entirely too long. Just about anything walking upright in a skirt was starting to look good. Except the dour Mayfair he thought with a wry twist of his lips.
“The question is, are you?” she asked, eyes flickering with mischief. Her smile tightened into a small feral grin. It hadn't taken her long to get into the gi once they'd settled on the doing this.
She dodged his exploratory kick with ease, moving into his space and sweeping his leg. He flipped to get away but she rolled and grabbed his arm as it hit the mat and yanked. He came down hard right on top of her.
“Sorry,” he muttered. She oofed then laughed as he rolled off her. He grunted as she held on to the front of his gi and rolled with him.
“Not quite the roll in the hay I had planned but it will do,” she grinned down at him, red hair flaring out in a halo around them. She pinned his shoulders for a moment then brushed hair out of her eyes. She locked eyes with him then kissed him. He returned the kiss in surprise. His free hand reached up and stroked her hair gently.
Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) Page 28