Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (10 page)

“About flipping time!” Sprite said, sounding happy. The Admiral
glanced at her avatar on his HUD. She shrugged.

“Course?” the Admiral asked, returning his attention to the larger
picture.  He turned his head to view the navigational station. The system chart
was up. Courses were projected on it, all to the two Jovians.

“Projected course will take a few more minutes Admiral. I want to
get this right with the least amount of fuel used if you don't mind,” the AI
reported.

“Understood and heartily agree,” Irons replied. He reached for the
sensor controls.

“And no, you can't re-prioritize my sensors to scan the system or
the gas giants. Passives only. Actives use too much power.”

Irons frowned. Sprite smothered a giggle. “I think he's serious.”

“I am serious. We are that low on fuel you know. Not fun.””

“Understood,” Irons replied. He looked at Sprite.

“I'll check the passives,” Sprite sighed.

“We still have the post exit hyperspace list to work through Admiral,”
Phoenix reminded him after a quiet moment.

Irons flinched as if startled and then nodded. “On it,” he said,
glad for the distraction.

<----*----*----*---->

It took a while, but Phoenix finally crept along a course the AI
grudgingly approved of. They kept to passive scans, which was annoying, but at
least it didn't announce their presence in the system. Still, it made the Admiral's
neck hairs rise a bit, not knowing what was around them in any detail.

He also wasn't at all happy about running ballistic for the past
two days. It did however conserve power. The slingshot around a rock two days
from now would cut their transit time, but it was annoying to be so close to a
rock and yet not be able to exploit it. According to their records it really
was a rock, totally useless.

“Admiral, two derelicts detected in orbit of the third planet.
Neither are active,” Phoenix reported.

“In orbit of the third planet?” Sprite asked, showing some
interest. “Class?”

“Affirmative,” Phoenix replied, sending the AI and the Admiral his
data feed. There were two metallic objects, both vaguely ship shape in orbit of
the rocky planet. Both were dead in space, drifting and tumbling. From the look
and estimated size of them they had to be medium freighter class. “At this
range I can't get a better read on them, sorry.”

“And especially not with the soup around us. Nothing on
neutrinos?” the Admiral asked. He frowned. They could do a search for a basic
ship type in their registry but there really wasn't a point. They would no
doubt only get a partial match; ships were extensively modified over the years,
especially the past seven centuries.

“That is why I classified both ships as derelicts.”

“And we can't tell how long they have been there, or why they are
there,” Sprite mused. “At least not from here. They could have been stuck in
orbit there for days... or centuries.”

“True,” Irons replied. He like a lot of spacers had a thing about
Dutchmans. “We can investigate after we get the fuel situation sorted out.”

“I'm not going anywhere until we do Admiral. I'm on fumes,”
Phoenix said.

“Right,” Irons sighed, making a face. “ETA on the parts?”

“Three hours Admiral, the balloons will take some manhandling to
get to my boat bay.”

“I know,” the Admiral grunted, shaking his head. He wasn't looking
forward to moving the great big sacks through the tight quarters of the ship to
the boat bay. “We can cut the gravity. That will make it easier to maneuver
them.”

“Or more challenging. Easier to lift certainly,” the AI replied.

“True.”

“Saving power would be nice,” the AI said.

The Admiral eyed the AI avatar and then pursed his lips. “You know
what, reduce power for the gravity systems by half. I can deal with it.”

“Are you certain sir?”

“Yes.”

“Okay...”

“And we're going to use the saved power to put the kitties to
bed.”

“You mean stasis. Great,” Sprite said, making a face.

“I don't need them getting underfoot. And I don't need them
clawing and peeing over my room right now. No thank you,” Irons replied in a
carefully controlled voice.

“True,” Sprite replied with a hint of mirth. “Repairing your suit
did keep Proteus busy for a minute or two.”

“Which was power we need to conserve. Besides, putting the
fuzzballs to bed will save on food and life support as well.”

“And now that you've talked yourself into it?” Sprite asked,
smiling at him.

He sighed and got up out of his chair. “Now I've got to go do it.
Which will not be easy. Nor will your ribbing help.”

“I know, but it's more fun that way,” Sprite said as the Admiral
made his way to his cabin.

He slowed enough to snort. He had to watch his pace, Phoenix had
already reduced power to the gravity and he nearly rebounded off the ceiling as
he walked. “Cute.”

One of the things that sucked about the nearly empty system was
the lack of options when it came to the available gas giants to mine. There
were two, both Jovians, which meant a high radiation level. That sucked. The
rest of the planets in the system, all two of them, were rocks. There was a reason
the system was a crossroads and not inhabited.

The radiation though, that might be an issue. It didn't matter to
Irons or Phoenix, both he and the ship could put up a particle shield, but the
refinery platform couldn't handle a heavy load, which was an issue. It would
have a very short shelf life and would be prone to errors like this one. He
hadn't even gotten it fully deployed yet and it was giving him conniptions.

There were better designs for its electronics, specially hardened
against radiation, with layers of shielding. There was even a design with its
own shield generators. But those used material he didn't have available
unfortunately. They were also a bit too large for the replicators he had on
Phoenix.

The other issue was the radiation and high-density particles and
micro-meteors in the system cut his sensor range and resolution down to under
three hundred thousand kilometers. Phoenix was reliant on Lidar and that was
giving the AI fits with all the material floating around.

The Admiral was starting to regret not going through Pyrax. If
he'd gone through Gaston, it would have taken oh; six weeks back to that
system, then another four to Pyrax. Cross that system and see what was going
on, maybe put a helping word in to Logan, then another seven-week jump to Beta
101a. But he'd be on fumes, unless he tanked up in Pyrax. And he seriously
didn't want to be on fumes in that system. If Sprite was right, the Horathian's
were stacking up stuff to hit Pyrax there now. The Beta jump point to Pyrax was
a rough one, but if the Horathian's had gotten wind of what had happened to
their fleet by now... and had something positioned near enough... he winced.

Perhaps it would be safer for him to head to Hidoshi's World, or
up chain to Kathy's World. He frowned. No, Hidoshi's World was agrarian, and Kathy's
World was an ice planet; again, nothing there for him. Protodon was agrarian,
and there was little up there except Antigua. He didn't want to go crawling
back there with his tail tucked between his legs. He needed options. Better
options than the ones currently on the table. But first things first, he
thought, snapping his mind back to the here and now.

Which was why he was puttering around here, drifting in space
trying to get the balloon platform off.

<----*----*----*---->

In orbit of the gas giant Murphy reared its ugly head while
deploying the gas giant refinery. The compact assembly of balloons, struts,
chemical works and micro-fusion reactor was being hinky. First the routine
checkup had thrown up a software flag. Sprite was on that. But then the booster
had failed a check of its fuel injector. The Admiral had ordered it back
flushed, but when that failed to solve the problem he had suited up and gone
out to tear into it.

He was still outside the ship working on the platform and a
sticky hinge when all hell broke loose.

“Admiral...” Phoenix said over the channel, noting an odd return
on the lidar about three hundred kilometers out and closing at six hundred
meters per second. There was a rock approaching, but the AI hadn't noted its
course coming this close before now. The AI tracked its course; it would pass
within ninety kilometers of the ship, within the ship's safety range.

That was in itself odd since the AI hadn't noted the rock on such
a course prior to its taking up the present orbit around the gas giant. Phoenix
ran a quick back track, but again it didn't make sense. The rock would have to
have swung around two other rocks and not impacted them in order to come in on
the course it was currently on.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” the AI said, sending its findings to
Sprite. Sprite's attention was on the software repair, so she logged the data
and continued on her current project.

Annoyed at the lack of interest, Phoenix ran a passive scan as it
prepared to fire the RCS to move the ship to the safe one hundred kilometer
range. There was something else, an energy trace off the port bow behind a
moon. It was faint, but there. “Admiral, there is something going on here. As
you like to say, something hinky.”

“Not now. I'm busy,” Irons growled. “Whatever it is, it can wait,”
he growled, pulling on the hinge.

“I'm afraid not Admiral,” Phoenix began, sending out a pulse.
There was no return. The AI thought about it for a microsecond and then sent a
rapid-fire series of pulses, these aimed at the local moon. The intent was to
rebound them, to get the pulse to bounce off the moon to the odd object to get
a scattered return. When the AI got the return a half second later he acted.

Sprite got the data stream from Phoenix as Irons kept working
doggedly on the hinge. He felt his arm morph and his suit kick as he turned.
“What the hell?”

“Defender, get the Admiral inside now,” Sprite said, dropping her
voice into a cool soprano of command. “Phoenix, time?”

“Under five minutes,” the AI replied. “I can't get a solid number.
Whatever is coming it's good.”

“Someone want to tell me what the hell's going on?” Irons snarled,
fighting the AI for control of his suit. “Commander!”

“Get inside now Admiral. Incoming!” Sprite said.

“Shit, now you tell me,” Irons snarled, no longer fighting the AI.
“Meteor?”

“No!”

“Sprite...”

“No time Admiral! Phoenix roll ship ten degrees. Brace for
impact!”

“If it hits, I don't think it will. Rolling ship now,” Phoenix
replied.

“What is it?” The Admiral asked, looking up over the hull. He
could see something now, something black and not running any running lights.
She was briefly silhouetted against the gas
giant beyond.

“Ship. It’s some sort of ship or other object. It's under
stealth. Cancel that, stealth is dropping! It's a...” Phoenix's running report
was cut off in a squeal as the Admiral entered the open lock. The lights in the
lock flickered and then died before the door could close.

The destroyer erupted out of stealth and used force beams to
short Phoenix's shields and drive before the Admiral could get back inside to
do anything. The ship went dead, drifting with its running lights out. A last
lingering puff of RCS had kicked Phoenix into a slow roll. Irons looked up in
time to see a ship pass by, less than a thousand kilometers away. That was
suicide range with shields, but it was there and gone. He scowled and returned
his attention to his ship, throwing out a radio inquiry. It was dead and he
didn't like the implications of that.

“Report!” Irons growled, looking around. “Sprite? Commander! I
know you can hear me!”

“Sorry, safety reset. I was in the net with Phoenix when the
destroyer hit us with some sort of directional EMP weapon and then a force beam
barrage. Shields, wedge, drive, and power are down. Phoenix is dead. I'm not
sure about the AI. Admiral, this doesn't look good.”

“Shit!” The Admiral
snarled, turning back to the lock. He pulled on it, but it didn't
move. He flipped the cover plate up covering the emergency back up and went to
work.

 “Admiral! That will do you no good, there is no power and the
outer doors are open. There is air on the other side.” Irons patched his right
arm into the grid and then sent a mental command. The outer door started to
close and then stopped about ten centimeters apart. They jerked a few times
there, not quite ready to close for some reason. He had to pull the jack out
though, the damn power grid tried to suck him dry.

“Oh,” Sprite said thoughtfully after he got the door closed. It
was incredibly dark in the airlock. It didn't bother him, he had his sensors
and enhanced vision, but it was inky
black.

“It's partially closed,” the Admiral said, turning. He grabbed
the doors and forced them shut.

Helpless to stop what was going on, but determined to try, he
forced his way back on Phoenix by pure muscle power. He received a garbled
damage report from Phoenix. He had been on the shadow side of the ship; its
bulk had shielded him from the effects of the EMP. The EMP was most effective
against civilian grade systems, military systems had redundancy and hardened
electronics.

Phoenix had some milspec systems and could power back up given
time, but there was no point, he didn't have enough fuel to run far. He cursed
himself for that then got his temper under control.

“We've got more important issues here, and a time crunch. They
will be coming Admiral. Now what?” Sprite warned him.

“Any sign of a shuttle?”

“No, they overshot. We might get something for a warning, but I
doubt it, space is big.

“So is this it? Go down fighting?”

“Admiral, the provisions on capture are clear,” Defender said.

“Termination? Not going to happen. I'm not caught yet,” Irons
growled. “So don't go there. And no, I don't think playing possum will work. We
can't run we all know that.”

“In death ground fight?” Sprite asked.

“More like in hemmed in ground use subterfuge. I have a plan.

“Oh a plan? This was all planned? This oughta be good,” Sprite
grumbled. “Please, tell us this plan sir.”

“Commander, no time.
Drop the sarcasm. Just work with me here. Phoenix overlay a
firewall and hide. Don't let them see you.”

“I am damaged, I am not certain I can,” Phoenix reported.

“Sprite, Defender, help him. Proteus, get in there as well.
Phoenix, give me a damage control report.”

“Shields are gone. We're on reserve power, at fifty one percent
and falling. Life support is stable. I've cut the power to the gravity to
conserve power.”

“Understood,” Irons said as he worked.

“Drive is out. We're venting some atmo and fuel. Active sensors
are down, most likely scrambled. Passives... I've got some cameras, but most
are down as well.”

“Shit.”

“Lidar is semi-functional. But I don't trust it.”

“Okay. Frack, that’s not good. Anyway we can get a time estimate
on when they will return?”

“If they are smart they will send a shuttle. Not dock directly.
There is no telling the behavior of wounded and desperate prey,” Sprite said,
echoing what they had learned from a lifetime of dealing with pirates.

The Admiral cursed but kept working. He purged his databanks, and
locked his computers down before his ship was boarded and he was taken
prisoner. Anything remotely military was dumped into the recycler and slagged.
His armory was one of the things he slagged right off, including the armored
suit Sprite had picked up for him. He had been tempted to use the thing; a
repeat of Ironman inside the destroyer might work, but only might. He had to
get
to the ship first. The destroyer would be foolish to let him on board wearing
the thing, so that option was unfortunately out.

“We can't run. We can't hide. So we bide our time, get on board
and then take them from the inside.”

“Mutiny,” Sprite said.

“I'm not their crew. They want me, well, I'll give them more than
they
ever
wanted.”

“Agreed,” the AI replied grimly.

<----*----*----*---->

“Admiral, the provisions on capture are nonnegotiable,” Defender
said as they swung into action. The ship was holding off, they had an hour so
far, a precious hour to get organized and do some damage control. He wondered
briefly if they had done that on purpose, let him do the grunt work of trying
to fix his ship then come in just before he finished and took over. That
rankled a bit. Smart though.

“If you even think about what you are doing I'll lobotomize you
myself,” Sprite growled. Irons could see her throwing firewalls up. He ignored
it, too intent on forming his plan and getting things moving. He didn't have a
lot of time.

“They are pirates. They don't know who I am, and they certainly
don't know about you three.” He looked at the computer interface. “Four.”

“So?”

“Remember what we did on Io? I'm going to play possum long enough
to get on their ship, and then we're going to tear her apart from the inside,”
the Admiral said flatly, in a tone that should have broke no argument.

He'd briefly considered doing that on Io 11 when they had first
taken him. Luckily for all concerned fortune or fate had intervened. He'd
bonded with the girls over the shared adversary of the marauding pirates, and
then brokered a deal with the Captain. But the entire time he'd kept the AI as his
secret, his ace in the hole.

“Admiral, this goes against orders...” Defender retorted. Irons
glanced at the plot. It wasn't stable, but it was enough to get a vague idea on
what was out there. The ship that had shut Phoenix down was outside of sensor range.
But so were any shuttles. They'd have about a ten-minute warning of an incoming
shuttle.