Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (42 page)

When the anthem was over the Admiral struck his salute smartly and
then turned once more to the podium. He stood there for a long moment, studying
them once more. Then he spoke.

“It has been a long time coming,” he said. “This, and what we are
about to do. And all of you have passed through a horrible rite of passage to
get here. You have all been scalded by war; you have all seen what it costs.
You are all here because you don't want that to happen to anyone ever again.
Nor do I.”

He paused a moment. “For thousands of years, men and women just
like you have put on that uniform for many reasons, but they all boil down to
that simple thing. To serve and protect your fellow sapients. To guard them
from those who mean them harm, even when they don't think they need or want it.
To be there, when the call to arms sounds, ready and willing.”

“I like a famous quote, trained in the art of war, but the
profession of peace.” He paused to let that sink in a moment. “It is literally
true. Each of you are about to undergo a major change in your life. You will be
reshaped and molded, just as your experience with the Horathians has reshaped
and molded you. But this time you will be better. You will receive implants,
geriatric treatments, and most importantly of all, the training to fight back,”
he said.

There was a soft growl of approval and agreement when he said
that. He nodded.

“Some of you may perish. But you will do so knowing you are
protecting others, protecting your comrades, your families, and those who can't
fight back. Remember that. You have something worth fighting for!” He thundered
into the echoing silence.

“Let us begin,” he said, raising his right hand. “Please raise
your right hand and repeat after me...”

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

When the Admiral finished with the oath he slowly dropped his
hand. He could feel the force emitters come online behind him. The hatch
clicked. The boat bay's force field had been repaired and thoroughly tested for
this event. The hatch opened, spooking a few in the room. They gasped in
fright, but their fellows didn't move, and the Admiral didn't either so they
stood firm.

Behind the Admiral he knew what they were seeing. The sun was
rising; it's rays clawing their way over the gas giant's bulk. It was bright
despite the field's ability to block out most of the harmful light. A few
people raised a hand to ward off the light.

“The Xenos took something from us, they took the light of
civilization. It's our job to bring it back. Bring it back and guard it from
ever going out again.”

“It's the dawning of a new day ladies and gentlemen. Too long have
we labored in the dark, waiting for the sun to rise again. Today, with you,
that changes. Let's pass this on to others. And let's make the Horathian's
regret
ever
meeting any of us,” the Admiral said.

The bay broke out into wild cheers over that statement. He nodded.
“Dismissed,” he said.

At the hatch door he nodded and stopped next to Mister Takagi. He
gave each recruit a series of pills and glass of water, then instructions to
swallow it. Each did so. Then they left. When they went to bed the red pill
would kick in, dissolving into a packet of nanites and material. They would go
to work taking the other pills apart and using the materials to create the
basic military ID implants. Sprite initialized each before the Admiral handed
it over with a handshake and welcome aboard.

When each person woke they would be military personnel, or at
least the larval form. It would be up to the medics to take things beyond that
point.

“You do have a flare for the dramatic.”

“Sometimes I get it right,” the Admiral replied, looking around in
approval.

“Sometimes,” Sprite agreed. “This time you did well Admiral. I'm
proud of you.”

“Thank you Commander. Now let's really get to work.”

“Aye aye.
Sir
.”

Doctor Glenn reported that the military personnel were ready for
the next stage of their implants. The Admiral had him run them through first
stage geriatric stabilization treatments and basic repairs or physical updating
before he agreed to proceed.

Reluctantly, Admiral Irons used his nanites to augment Doctor
Glenn. Sprite ran him through the ethics test when he woke and was sufficiently
lucid to handle it.

Marty was back on his feet within three days, just in time for the
ship to finish pushing Anderson to the three ships. The Admiral used materials
from the wrecked ship to make a pair of medical replicators for the infirmary,
and oversaw their installation and initialization. He had Sprite walk Marty
through the keys codes, then left them to learning the new device. Marty
practically gloated over the medical replicator like it was a new toy, which in
a way it was. A serious device, but an important and powerful tool too.

The Admiral went back to work organizing the tearing apart of
Anderson. Anything of value had already been stripped and shipped out already.
He accessed the list Kinja and Hoshi sent him and then made certain the survey
crews kept an eye out for any useful items. If they could get away with using
something over remaking it for now, all the better. They were on a time crunch,
the enemy was due to show up in a minimum of three weeks, if not sooner.

After two days of experimentation the medics reported they were
ready to precede with the second stage implants. Holly was the first to undergo
the procedure. Marty was justifiably nervous, working on his wife. He was all
smiles a few hours later when he reported that she was stable and in good
condition. With that success under his belt, he managed to upgrade an
additional ten people to full basic implant status before she reported back to
duty. After that they managed to do a few a day.

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

“How are they?” the Admiral asked. He checked in with Gustov
daily while making his rounds. Up until now he hadn't bothered going into the
brig itself though.

None of the Horathian's had seen or understood who he was. They might
have heard him over the PA, but they probably hadn't connected it to Doe yet.

“Fine sir no matter what they think or say. Bitching and whining
about the food, crowding, and facilities,” Gustov said, grinning as he
shrugged. “The usual.”

“Are you serious; after what they put us through? I’m glad they
are getting a taste of their own medicine,” Irons replied with a chuckle.

“There is that. We've got a request from the senior surviving
officer, an Ensign Derrick. He wanted to speak with you to put his petition
through.”

“Oh he did did he?” the Admiral asked, amused again.

“Shall I have him come out?” Gustov asked, turning to the
compartment.

“No,” Irons said. “Let's just stick my head in the lion's den. I
want to make a few things clear,” he said.

“You are so not doing this,” Sprite grumbled.

“Watch me,” the Admiral replied firmly. “Shields Defender,” Irons
ordered. Defender nodded. The Admiral waited a beat for his shields to come up
and then nodded to the Marine near the door.

The Marine glanced at his boss and then shrugged and keyed the
lock open.

Irons stepped in as men and women looked up. Some swung their
legs off bunks or dropped to the deck from upper bunks. A few nonchalantly
pretended to ignore him.

He surveyed the compartment. They actually had it better than the
former occupants had it; there were a third less bodies in such a confined
space.

“Ensign Derrick?” Irons asked.

Bard looked at him in disdain. “Just because you put on a pretty
uniform doesn't make you an Admiral,” he mocked.

“In my case it does,” Irons replied, turning to him. His eyes
flashed coldly. “And if you want a third lesson in manners, I can always give
it to you,” he said. “Just remember, your knee isn't healed fully. I could do
the same to the other leg if you want though. That way you'll have a matching
set.”

Bard stared at him. “You didn't... that was Doe... wait...” he
stared at the Admiral's face for along moment. Finally his eyes widened when he
saw something. He pointed. “It's him! It really is him! I don't know how but it
is! Doe!”

“Correct,” the Admiral replied, now amused. He turned, shrugging
slightly. “My real name is John Henry Irons. Fleet Admiral,” he said stiffly.
“John Doe is a rather famous alias.”

“I knew it was familiar!” Bard said. He stared, licking his lips.
He was pale, clearly shaken. “How?”

“Let them guess Admiral,” Sprite said. “It'll keep them off
balance.”

Irons gave a choppy nod and ignored the question. He turned as a
chunky male in a dirty uniform came forward.

“Um... Admiral. I asked to see you,” the Ensign said.

“Yes?”

“Can we not do it here?” the Ensign asked. He looked around.

“If not here, then some other time. My time is heavily scheduled
right now,” the Admiral replied. “We're a bit busy.”

“I...” the Ensign frowned. One of the seven women in the
compartment motioned to him. “Um, the food...”

“Is the same slop you fed us for years. Get used to it,” Gustov
growled.

“Do you have to eat in front of the men? Um... where are you
getting that other food?” the Ensign asked.

“Food replicators are fully functional,” Gustov replied with a
grin. “All but the one in here,” he said. Irons turned to look at him. He noted
the sudden tension in the room. He turned back as his shields crackled.
Defender pulsed them, making the buffer of force felt through the air it
pushed. Then Sprite altered the settings on the shields, blocking the red
wavelength of light but letting the others through. The shield glowed for a
moment before she restored it.

“I wouldn't,” the Admiral said coldly. “Any attempt... any,” he
said, pointedly, looking around. “At harming the Marines or other personnel on
this ship will make me reconsider your status in a negative and rather
permanent way. Understood?” he said.

There were a few nods, starting with the Ensign. Bard nodded
right off.

“Fine then. Next?”

“We're kind of crowded. Not that you care,” Bard growled.

“Nope, you’re right, I don't,” the Admiral, replied.

“We could use some medical supplies and some extra blankets,” the
Ensign said.

“I'll think about it,” the Admiral replied. “Sickbay is rather
busy right now.”

“Supplies are limited to the crew,” Bard growled in disgust.
“Where have I heard that before?” he demanded.

Irons snorted. “Actually, no, the medical replicators are now
fully functional.”

“You...”

“I can do a lot of things. So can this crew now. What else?”

“Um...” Derrick frowned. A female kicked him, then looked
meaningfully at him and then the Admiral. She jerked her head. He nodded and
cleared his throat. “Sorry, dry,” he said. “I um, request separate quarters for
the ladies. We've had some issues and they've requested it for their own
protection,” he said.

The Admiral studied him for a moment, and then the seven women.
One had fresh bruising on her face and one arm. “I'm guessing the men are
little more than animals and can't comport themselves like fellow sapients?” he
asked, looking at the women.

The women stared. One nodded. The one with bruises nodded as well
after a moment. She bit her lip.

“I'll look into it. For now ladies, I suggest you do like the
ladies who were in here did, band together in one location. Don't do anything
unless you are in pairs. Don't dick tease either.”

“Frack, that's it?” One woman demanded. “That's all your going to
do?”

“Did you step up to stop the raping of the prisoners? Did you?”
Gustov demanded. “Did you stop some of your friends like that bitch Sikes from
raping some of us guys?”

“If you can get it up you wanted it,” a woman scoffed. “Don't
hand that crap to me,” she growled. “With us it's different.”

“A double standard. If someone tortures you, threatens your life,
or drugs you, it's still rape. Coercion doesn't mean compliance,” Irons
growled.

“Says you,” a woman said.

“Says me indeed. Since I'm the one in charge, my opinion unlike
yours counts,” the Admiral replied. “That it?”

Derrick looked around the compartment. Stony silence answered
him. Slowly he nodded.

“Fine. Enjoy your stay,” Irons said. He turned and followed
Gustov out. Despite his shields his shoulders itched. He didn't like turning
his back on the Horathians.

“Ballsy,” Gustov said. “They know we won't beat them. They are
lucky we don't space them. I don't see why we don't sir.”

“Not unless we have to,” the Admiral replied, recognizing the
ugly desire in the Marines. They were fortunately keeping such impulses under
tight control. That said a lot to the Admiral. “I want them to enjoy their new
life. We'll see about the separate quarters.”

“I don't know why Admiral, it will divide my manpower.”

“Which you have enough of now,” Sprite said. “Separating them may
let them think they'll get a chance to escape. It could also create a few
cracks in their collective armor. Divide and conquer. I bet just the threat of
returning one of the women back into that hell's den will make them more
interested in talking.”

Gustov shifted uncomfortably. Irons shrugged. “Like I said,
coercion. We'll see. For now, keep monitoring them.”

“Aye sir.”

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

“Admiral, you mentioned we're still short on the crew... we've got
a potential pool but it is... tainted,” Sprite said, coming to him while he sat
in the Captain's office. Things were really shaping up. The new augmented
personnel were coming on line and learning their new abilities. It was putting
some pressure on the ship's limited computer network, but so far so good. He
made another note to bump up the priority of the net repairs and upgrade.

“Tainted?” the Admiral asked, grimacing. “I'm not following.
Unless you mean...”

“Yes. Several Horathian’s have quietly asked to defect to become
crew. Some were former shipmates of the captured freighter survivors who had
turned their coats to the Horathians,” Sprite reported.

“I'm... not sure I am comfortable about that. But it is something
to consider,” the Admiral said thoughtfully.

“Admiral, a man who turned his coat once can do it again.” Defender
objected.

“Some people will do anything to survive. Sometimes you have to
set your pride aside and do what is necessary,” the Admiral replied.

“I think you should consider what you just said very carefully
when we have time Admiral,” Sprite said.

The Admiral blinked in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?”
he demanded.

“Think about it. But as to what the Lieutenant is saying, I have
to agree with the Admiral,” she said, refusing to go any further with her
answer. “And remember Lieutenant, we will be watching, and by
we
I mean
mainly you. And we will give them implants. And I believe you and I both know
the monitoring systems for treason.”

“Yes,” Defender responded slowly. “But...”

“I'm interested in what they know as well. Separating them from the
rest will weed out some of the sheep from the wolves as well.”

“You're going to do this anyway,” Defender said. “No matter what
objection I voice, the decision has been made,” the AI said, sounding petulant.

“By no means,” the Admiral said, shaking his head. “I want
you
Lieutenant to interview each candidate
with
Sprite. Multiple interviews,
you will handle security. I want you to monitor each for how truthful they are,
and I want you to remind them that you are watching.”

“Admiral, that is by no means perfect,” Defender replied.

“No, but it is a start. Once they have implants, you can do a
security evaluation monthly if necessary, and monitor their responses through
their implants if needed.”

“True,” the AI replied.

“Anyone you have problems with will go to the back of the line and
be reprocessed until we can be sure where their true loyalties lie. And if you
can get recommendation material and background material from the survivors,
that would help as well,” the Admiral said.

“Putting some of them in the same room could get ugly,” Sprite
said. “Talk about a soap opera,” she said. “And oh, by the way, the Horathian Doctor
wants to turn his coat too. What do we do about that?”

“That's tricky,” the Admiral said, exhaling slowly. “We'll start
with the others first.”

“Understood.”

“Admiral, my work load is heavy,” Sprite said.

“So is mine,” the Admiral replied. “So is Defender's. We're all on
borrowed time here, so we've got to step up. Do what you can. If you have to,
see what you can delegate to Phoenix, Proteus, or Bounty.”