Fool's Gold (The Wandering Engineer) (35 page)

“Find
other people with tugs and get them serviced and out there,” Irons said looking
at the file.

 "So?"
a tech asked. "What good will that do?" she asked.

"It's
a start. We need to lay the ground work for more trades and we need these
people to trust us and work with us if any of us are going to get through
this," Irons replied looking at her. She looked down and away after a
second. "Folks, I know you're scared, but you need to keep a lid on that.
We can't afford to let our fear rule us or it will consume us... or worse the
station." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm working with a couple of
people to come up with a plan, but it is a long shot. Like I said before, we
need more info."

He
looked over to the comm. tech. "I can't get more from them, their
communications is damaged. We're barely getting a single voice channel,"
she sighed. "They're reluctant to broadcast any data, something about
getting a virus." She shrugged. He nodded.

"Right,
so we have the Doc and security team at the docks as a reception team, with an
engineering team on standby with plenty of medical back up. Are you going to
need a clear path to the lifts?" He looked over to the Doc who nodded.

"And
a place for triage if it is needed. By now most should be stable and ready to
move. I was hoping here, but..." She started to point out the location on
the map when the communication channel opened.

"Sir,
we've got a situation on the docks. People are crowding into it, it looks like
a mob is developing. We're getting reports of panic spreading through the
station." The voice sounded terrified.

"Crap!"
Enrique said lunging to his feet and rushing out of the room. "Meeting
adjourned.”

"Doc?"
Irons looked over to her.

"Right,
get to sickbay, prep for incoming. I'm on it." She lifted her wrist com to
her mouth and started issuing orders as she walked out.

"I'm
calling out the guard," the burly head of security growled as he stomped
out. "What about those robots?" he bellowed down the passageway.
"What do you mean they are guarding the Port Admiral and his quarters!
What the hell!"

Irons
scowled as he shook his head. He was actually glad the robots were away from
the docks. There was no telling what kind of havoc they would cause. Panic
alone could cause a stampede. "Get to your stations folks. It's going to
be a long, interesting day." He walked out.

"Well,
you're certainly living up to the curse," Sprite said cheerfully.

"What
curse?" he asked stepping into the lift.

"The
Chinese one. May you live in interesting times," Sprite replied.

"Funny.
Verrry funny," he grunted shaking his head. "Give me a data feed on
the riot. Did that work party finish repairing the audio acoustics in the
docks?" he asked suddenly getting a mischievous grin.

"That
they did..." Sprite answered sounding malicious.

"What
the hell is he doing here?" Irons snarled as he exited the lift and caught
sight of the Port Admiral flying by on his gilded bed throne. A series of
guards and security droids surrounded him and his entourage. They started up
the main concourse but were blocked by the press of bodies. The Port Admiral
waved to his guard commander. The commander turned and said something. The men
and droids locked weapons.

"Crap.
Sprite, audio now!" Irons snarled as the men started to fire into the
rioting people. A blast of pure sonic fury erupted from the Admiral and the
nearby speakers driving unprotected people to their knees. Those closest to the
Admiral or a speaker ended up passing out as the barrage of sonic hell filled
the room. One of the guards turned to fire on the Admiral, he raised his arms
to shield himself. The man smirk turned into a snarl of shock as the pulser
darts rippled off the Admiral's shield and into the air or crowd.

"Damn
it, knock it off!" Irons charged forward, then raised his right arm. The
man’s eyes widened comically as the Admiral's arm morphed and a blast of energy
engulfed his enemy. The man screamed as his body was torn apart. "Damn,
didn't want to have to do that." Irons turned to the crowd.

"Stay
down!" His enhanced voice carried over the crowd. "Security back up
is on its way Admiral," Sprite reported. The drones wobbled, turned on
him, then turned back and pushed the dais up into the ship's lock.

"Cut
the audio but keep it primed. We may need to do that again. Get control of
those drones now." He looked around at the crowd. "Breakage is going
to be heavy,” he sighed. He dodged a woman as she bent over and vomited.

"Nice.
Where one does it..." He looked up as others began to smell the vomit and
followed. "Sprite crank the air exchangers and get another triage team
here. Hopefully the Doc wasn't in this mess." He shook his head. Several
of the Port Admiral's followers crawled off into the lock. "Rats..."
he growled.

"Let
them go. We've got more important things to worry about." He turned to see
Enrique climbing to his feet. He was shaken and had his mouth open. The Doc
came in with the security detachment and nodded.

"I
leave for five minutes and look what happens. Get me some space to work."
She motioned for the others.

Irons
straightened. He cleared his throat loudly so those that could still hear
turned to him. "Smithy, as of this moment I am taking charge of this
station. I Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons, Fleet Admiral of the Federation Navy
do hereby exercise martial law under the Federation security act of 2321,"
Irons turned to the nearest security pick up.

 "Since
the Port Admiral has abandoned his station I acknowledge your authority
Admiral," the AI reluctantly said. Irons nodded. That was one problem
settled.

"Right,
now that that is over, you've got your hands full Doc, get to work." He
motioned to the crowd but she was already on her knees helping a woman.
"You two." He pointed to a pair of guards. "Guard the lock. No
one in except the crew or authorized personnel. You." He pointed to
another man as a trio of rats scurried into the ship. "Get me a link to
your commander. I want a report now. I want back up here ASAP. Smithy redirect
those drones to security control," he turned to look at the camera, then
back to the guard.

"Um
sir, my boss is in there," the nervous man pointed to the lock.

"Great,
who's his exec?" Irons asked.

"She's
in there too sir. I don't know who's in charge now. Maybe the sheriff if he
didn't go as well." The man tugged at his collar. He kept shooting glances
to the lock.

"All
right, you’re in charge of this mess until you find someone senior or I send
someone with more authority to relieve you. Get these people policed for
weapons then help the Doc. Keep them calm. They can't hear but that will
change. Make sure they help the ones unconscious." He pointed to several
bodies piled together.

"I
need to intubate here!" Doc called looking up from a victim. Irons
grimaced.

"What
a mess," Shelby said at his elbow. Irons nodded as he eyed Enrique helping
a uniformed woman to her feet. She shakily brushed off helping hands from the
Doc and went into the ship lock.

"Sergio
in there?" he asked suddenly concerned.

"No,
he undocked and is home. His mom is chewing him out now." Shelby sounded
amused.

"Can
you handle this while I get what I can from the ship?" he turned to her.
"What about him?" she asked, pointing to Enrique.

"He's
out of it. The sonics will have him deaf for another hour," the Admiral
shrugged then grimaced as Enrique went pale then rushed out clutching his
stomach. "It hits people in different ways. Some get sick, some get the
runs." He shrugged.

"Great,
and you're leaving me in charge. Gee thanks," Shelby sighed wrinkling her
nose.

"Someone's
got to man the store. Back in an hour or so," Irons smiled and stepped
over a series of bodies. He nodded to the guards and went into the lock.

"Turn
left at the next junction then follow the red line Admiral," Sprite
informed him.

"I
thought you didn't have the deck plans?" he asked amused, looking around.

"I
don't, well, I didn't... now I do," Sprite sounded smug.

"Your
in their net?" he asked.

"No
a local cleaning droid. It has the deck plans and has a working wireless link.
I can't get into the computer, it locked me out ," she sounded disgusted.
He chuckled. "Right, I can solve that." He crept past an open door
with people arguing on the other side, then made his way to the bridge. Inside
he sighed in disgust at the lack of a watch.

"Guess
they are all busy. Riot and all that," Sprite chuckled. "Better
strike while the iron is hot Admiral, you may not get a second chance,"
she urged. He nodded.

"Right.
Jack jack jack, where did they.. ah here it is." He stepped over to the
helm and jacked in.

"I'm
through the firewall, their security is not bad. Still has a virus problem
though." Sprite tisked tisked as she disinfected the system.

"Never
mind that, get me the data." He felt her stream through the net.

"I'm
in the directory, it's a mess. This may take a while," Sprite warned him.
He sighed.

"Proteus,
give her a hand." He looked around nervous.

"No
sign of detection or of incoming personnel Admiral. I will let you know if that
changes," Defender informed him. A plot of the deck appeared on his HUD.
Over the next ten seconds it began to be populated by roving red dots.

"The
crew?" he asked.

"Most
of them. About twelve were out in the riot or in sickbay. That was their
security force which is why the lock was unguarded on their side. The rest are
passengers. There is an ongoing argument in one of the guest quarters over who
gets to stay and who goes back. Doc had just gotten the first trio to sickbay
and was on her way back when the whole thing flashed over," Sprite
informed him absently.

"Right."
He reached out with his left arm and started to motion. He pulled up a copy of
the directory and studied it. "Clone this system and zip it to the
station. I want as much as we can get." He looked around.

"You'd
think it would have the latest time stamp... got it," Sprite muttered.
"Here it is Admiral." Sprite pulled up a visual feed. "The
captain, not Shannah Mayweather by the way, it is her daughter Vanessa
Mayweather, linked her captain's log to the files." She rapidly dumped the
log and linked data to him. "Now that I have the time chops I am pulling
the raw data from astro and the sensors. I... ah ha, gotcha you bugger,"
Sprite sounded smug. "Just picked up a couple missing packets in a buffer.
Here."

He
studied the information and then growled irritably. The data was raw and
uncategorized and a jumbled mess. The sensors were also misaligned apparently.
"And this tells me?" He waited as she overlaid the system then pulled
up the sensor readings of the ships.

"Not
much I'm afraid. I can confirm the attack and the presence of at least six or
more ships." Sprite highlighted each sensor tag. Drive strength,
emissions, size, approximate mass, and other bits of data scrolled next to
each. "Admiral, this doesn't make sense, They have several freighters with
them, even a mobile repair ship!" He shook his head as Sprite pulled up
the various feeds and massaged the data more.

"Over
the centuries they could have been turned into anything. A station, or
generation ship, anything. Even a salvaged derelict. Or there is a more ominous
thought,  they could have been caught." He shrugged bleakly.

"Possible.
I'll log the probability as low though, they appear to be organized." He
watched the chatter. "The crew may not have noticed the communications, or
been able to decrypt  it for that matter, but I can. It's a simple decrypt
actually..." she said. He held up his left palm.

"Later.
Gist?" he ordered.

"They
really are pirates. Last message has someone laughing about the yacht not
getting far and they will follow on the guard channel. Not good," Sprite
reported. He shook his head. So much for wishful thinking.

"Great."
He shook his head and then went back to looking over the log. He flicked
through the battle, what there was of it, once more then went back to the
ship's data. "Download complete. We can go now," Sprite reported.

He
nodded. "Right. How is the ship?" he asked as he un-jacked.

"Repairable.
They took a few hits but most of the injuries were due to a EPS conduit burst
in main engineering than from anything critical. It looks like they took it on
the edge of their shield and it overloaded when they crossed into hyper. I took
the liberty of stamping out their virus problem and updating their antivirus
and firewall programs. I left a back door in case we need it too," Sprite
informed him with a sniff. Carefully he made his way out of the ship.
"Admiral, that was too easy," Sprite informed him disgusted.

"Unlike
you I don't want to press my luck," he shrugged as he studied the dock.
Most of the mobile people had disappeared. Doc was gone, a pair of orderlies
and some new trainees were busy doing triage on a few of the remaining people.
"Well, that was quick." He looked around and nodded to a guard.