Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (78 page)

“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.