Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) (19 page)

BOOK: Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer)
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The
captain stared at it for a long moment before turning to Irons with the obvious
question. “A rock?”

“Not
just any rock captain, it's got water in it. Trapped in pockets. It's not quite
an ice ball like a comet, but it should serve our purposes.” He'd scanned the
rock and estimated about two hundred tons of useable water ice on it. A drop in
the bucket for the ship but an ample opportunity to pique interest in the
practice of picking up the odd rock or two while in transit.

“An
ice ball,” the captain rubbed his chin. “Fuel?” he said after a moment,
catching on. He slowly smiled.

“And
materials. I think I can manage three, maybe four trips before we get out of
range. That rock is a bit much to bring in with the launch, but if you want to
send some of your own people out to help we could load up everything they can
carry. If they work with me we could wrangle the entire thing back here.”

“I...
all right, I see your point,” the captain nodded and clasped his hands. “When
do you want to go?” Getting Irons off the ship would go over well for some. It
would also make the assassin think twice about how to get to him.

“As
soon as possible captain. The next window is in thirty minutes.”

“Twenty
nine point four minutes and counting down actually,” Sprite interjected.

The
captain nodded and adjusted the hem of his jacket. “Very well, get it done.”

“Thank
you captain,” Irons said feeling some relief. He turned to go.

“And
Admiral...” he turned back at the captain's voice. “Why did you keep this to
yourself?”

“I
didn't want our saboteur to know until the last minute.”

The
captain's face froze for a long moment before he spoke. “Ah, good point. You're
certain we have one?”

“Very.”

The
captain didn't look at all happy about that. He'd hoped that it had been all
random acts. The poisoning though... “I'll have Ed secure the boat bays and
keep a keen eye on the proceedings then.”

“Thank
you captain,” Irons said as the door opened.

 

“Why
are we doing this again?” Sprite asked as he looked out the main window to the
rock slowly tumbling in front of them.

Irons
checked the read outs. The rock was tumbling ever so gently. They were matching
course and direction with it now. It hadn't taken him long to get the launch
out and in space. Bailey had offered to go with him but he'd waved the offer
off. He didn't need an audience. Having an extra hand would have been nice, it
would have allowed him to train someone, but Bailey's job was in central
engineering, not out on a shuttle wrangling ice and rock. He smiled. “We need
fuel remember?”

“We
can get that at the planet right?” Sprite didn't sound like she was going to
let go of this easily.

“True.”
He was a little busy keeping an eye on the display and the various gauges. His
hands were on the control yoke. He didn't need to have hands on, he could have
used his implants. But he was enough of a pilot to prefer the tactile contact
over control with his implants. Sure you felt the ship through the implants but
he also felt it with his hands and feet as well.

“This
seems rather risky to me Admiral. Aren't you concerned about the saboteur?”

“No,
like I told the captain, I left it to the last minute for that reason. That and
well, I thought that I would be busy. Since I'm not...”

“Um...”

“I
had planned on rebuilding the hyperdrive. But the captain wants to hold off on
that until we're closer in system. In other words, until we're committed and
there is no going back.”

“Oh.”

“I
can see his point, I wouldn't want my drive in pieces if there is a pirate
lurking about. We can't be sure we got them all. One might be trailing behind.”

She
frowned. “That is true.”

“I'd
like to see if we can skim off some of the materials for a few projects of my
own. Call it payment for services rendered.”

“I'll
make a note of that Admiral. Also skim off some of the fuel for the launch as
well,” she said dryly. He grimaced. He'd almost completely forgotten about that
factor. He'd gotten into using the resources of the military and having ample
supply. Not to mention not having to pay someone else for it. Having someone to
pump it for him too for that matter. His eyes darted to the fuel gauge. No, he
was fine.

“Do
you think there will be an attack?”

“Pirates?
Not likely,” he snorted. “Oh you mean by our assassin? Doubtful. We're under a
microscope right now. Everyone in the ship is talking about this right?”

“Yes.”

“And
the entire crew is watching us like a hawk. Since we're in our own craft they
can't tamper with it.”

“They
could leave us behind Admiral. Stranded.”

“I
think Bailey would have something to say about that. And you for that matter,”
he retorted.

“True.”

After
a moment she seemed to shrug and then release the argument. “So what are these
plans you mentioned? You haven't run anything by me...”

“You've
been busy. But I was thinking along these lines...”

 

The
captain grimaced as he watched Miss Willis and Mayfair. Both had to be on hand
when he contacted Agnosta. He'd spent five meetings and twelve hours over the
past two weeks agonizing over what he was going to say. They had nitpicked it
down to where he would pause and breath he thought acidly, watching them fidget
now.

He'd
gotten tired of the rehearsals and repeated changes to the agreed upon script.
Enough was enough. He'd had been annoyed when Mayfair had interrupted his lunch
yesterday yammering about the speech. He could tell she was nervous but she
needed to lighten up a bit. After that he'd spent yesterday dodging the woman.
From the report he'd gotten from Clarke who had been manning the afternoon
shift the woman had become rather shrill when she'd been told to buzz off by
Mr. Chambers.

Ed
could be useful sometimes, Ferguson thought with a small smile. Take now for
instance. He'd love to have the security chief come in and kick the two busy
body women out. Unfortunately he couldn't give in to his baser urges.

He
envied Irons. The man was on his launch away from all this hoopla and grand
standing. Did he do that deliberately? Ferguson's eyes narrowed. Was he
anticipating a screw up? Or did he just want to clear the deck to allow them to
proceed unhindered by his shadow? He wasn't sure.

“What's
taking so long?” Mayfair asked, looking at the communications officer. The
young Gashg blinked at her. He snorted, mucus dribbling from one snorkel
nostril. He wiped at it. She made a face and turned slightly away, clearly
disgusted.

“It
takes time for a message to travel from us to them, for them to receive and
process it, and for them to formulate and then send a response Miss.”

“Don't
take that condescending tone with me you...”

The
captain cleared his throat in warning. “He wasn't condescending he was
explaining the situation. Which you should well know Miss Mayfair.”

“We
don't even know if they can respond,” Miss Willis interjected, stepping between
the two of them as her boss inflated to blow. She shot Mayfair a warning look.
The woman seemed to relax and she slowly let out the breath.

“My
apologies captain.”

“We're
all under tension Ma'am, it's best to keep things under control. We still
have...” He glanced at the Gashg. The alien tapped a control with a long claw
and then looked at him.

“Twenty
minutes before they receive our hail captain.”

“Ah.
Indeed.” He shook his head. “Perhaps a walk is in order? Or a meal? To break
the tension and take our minds off the situation.”

“Have
there been any signs of pirates?” Willis asked, glancing towards the sensory
station.

“Pirates?
No one said anything about pirates still being here! I knew we should have had
the navy come with us! I knew it ,I knew it!” Mayfair said, pacing. “Mark my
words, this is going to be a disaster if we...” She stopped waving a fist as
she caught sight of the captain's closed face. She dropped her hand and
straightened. “Perhaps you're right, I am a bit wound up. I think a walk is
definitely in order.”

She
marched out nose high. Willis smiled and shook her head, blond hair bobbing as
she followed her boss out. After the hatch closed the captain sat back with a
sigh. Tension seemed to ooze out of the crew as they relaxed in turn.

“What
a...”

“Shrew,”
Clarke said, glancing toward the exit. “Goddess of space, I'd hate to be
married to that woman. I pity the fool who...”

“That's
enough Mister Clarke,” the captain said tiredly.

“Ah,
yes sir. Sorry sir.”

“In
this case no apologies necessary, I heartily agree. I just don't want it
brooded about,” the captain said, shaking his head. The bridge watch snickered
a little at that, glancing at each other as they chuckled.

He
nodded, feeling the last of the tension ease. “Do we have a visual on the
planet?”

“Yes
captain.”

“Can
we scan it? Compare it to what we have in our files?”

“Um...”

The
captain knew very well what had happened on Agnosta III, he'd been here, on
this very ship watching helplessly as the Horathian bastards had first
plundered what they wanted, then laughed as they dropped rocks on the planet.
They'd even had contests on who could get the closest to a target and hit it.

He
watched the video come alive and then a comparison of the surface. The major
towns and cities were gone, no surprise there. Most of the minor towns had also
been obliterated. Only a handful of minor outposts and villages remained. Most
of the surviving towns and villages were along the equator, some were shaded by
mountains. He'd wondered why, why they had bothered leaving any of them alive.
Then he remembered, they could always come back for more later.

That
had been a truly sickening thought. He'd felt not an ounce of pity for the
pirates when Firefly had ambushed them. Sure his life had been on the line as
well, but better to die at the hands of a would be rescuer than to be a slave
to scum like that. He was deeply indebted to the Admiral and the marines.
Especially the marines. They had laid their lives on the line to come onto this
ship, fight off the surviving pirates and take it back, all while keeping him
and the other slaves who managed to surrender alive.

He
like every other former slave had watched the executions as well. The Admiral
hadn't wanted to broadcast them but someone had talked him into allowing it as
a deterrent. Would he have the stomach to try and execute someone for their
actions? If it was a pirate it was a slam dunk, but someone else? The assassin?
What would he do if the assassin was caught? How well would it play out with
the people back in Pyrax?

He
thought about that, rubbing his chin. He'd tried to be neutral in this, keep
out of the conflict between the politicians back in Pyrax and the Admiral. He
felt a little guilty about that. Perhaps it was time to rethink that once more?

Obviously
the Admiral didn't have any problems with breaking someone. Or did he? Did
Irons work in the simple world of black and white or in the infinite shades of
gray he knew civilization really encompassed?

“Captain
we're not going to receive a response for some time. If one at all. If they
have a receiver it may not be up. If we don't get a response in the next...”
the Gashg checked his console, “thirty five minutes then the planet's rotation
will take the targeted towns out of range for another eleven hours.”

“Yeah,”
he sighed, straightening in his seat. After a moment he got up. “Which is just
as well, we've got time before we get there. Anything on the scope?”

“No
sir.”

“How
is engineering doing?”

“Chief
Bailey has them tearing into everything they can sir. We're going to need to
refuel at this rate.”

“One
thing at a time.” He glanced at the planet, and it's blue watery oceans. “We
can get fuel from the planet. I've done it before, that's not a problem.” Hopefully
the Admiral's plan would play out so they wouldn't have to buy the water
though.

“Um...”
Clarke turned to the view and blinked. “I forgot,” he mumbled.

“Sometimes
the old ways serve just as well as the new. Remember that.”

“Aye
sir.”

“I'll
be in my ready room. Page me if we get a response or change in status.”

“Of
course sir.”

“And
let me know if anything changes with the Admiral as well,” he said turning and
pausing in the hatchway.

“Aye
sir,” the exec said with a curt nod.

 

After
five days and daily attempts they finally got a scratchy response. “Audio only
sir,” the communication tech said, cupping a hand to her earpiece.

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