Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) (38 page)

The
captain glanced at his exec in surprise. “Well, they have changed,” he said in
surprise. He cleared his throat and nodded to the communications tech. She
touched a control and then nodded back.

“Agnosta
control this is Destiny, captain Ferguson speaking. We humbly thank you for
your kind regards and look forward to our next visit. Stay safe and warm. May
the spirit of space shine on you. Destiny out.”

As
they got closer to the center of the oort cloud several days later the Admiral
brought a small comet in for them to use. The sensor tech was a little put out
that she hadn't seen the icy rock until the Admiral had already filed a flight
plan. Fortunately for her mental well being no one ribbed her about missing the
prize.

Irons
had a plan and he was still keeping it close to his chest. That was obvious.
What wasn't obvious to some was why. Sprite listened to the chatter with mixed
emotions. She knew the real reason, the Admiral didn't want whoever the
assassin was to be able to  plan anything easily. Not unless it was his
intention, when he finally laid his trap. Which apparently was still a ways
off.

So
far the assassin had used indirect methods of attack. Methods that certainly
would have worked against a lesser opponent. Sprite laid the odds at just under
fifty one percent that the assassin wouldn't stick his or her neck out in a
direct confrontation unless the prey was about to leave and slip through their
fingers for good.

Which
apparently was the Admiral's thinking as well. By keeping moving and keeping
everyone off balance about his plans he was a pretty good moving target. They'd
even changed quarters once they returned just in case. She'd sent a bot in to
check and found nothing. That was frustrating.

Irons
hadn't said anything about it. Ed had apparently laid some sort of trap and
whoever the assassin was had seen through it enough to avoid it completely. So
much for that Sprite thought. She just wished the Admiral would at least let
her know what was going on. That was getting a bit rude.

The
delay in picking up the comet was well worth it, it topped their fuel supply
off. Now they had plenty of fuel for the next two jumps. Since the adjoining
system was empty that was good. When they were full up the crew wasn't sure
what to do with the remaining pile of ice. Instead of venting or dumping the
excess material overboard he had them fill the reaction mass bladders as well
as additional bladders which he left behind in space.

“Why?”
Bailey asked. He'd come by to see what the Admiral was up to naturally.

“Why
not?” Irons asked amused. He lowered the volume on the music he had been
listening to. Hans Zimmerman from the twenty first century. Now there had been
an incredible artist. His work was epic and inspiring, even to this day and
age. He tapped a control. Bailey looked over his shoulder to see an airlock
with a satellite inside.

“What's
that?”

“Relay
satellite. I figured we'd leave one near the jump point. That way we or other
people can talk, and Agnosta will know if someone is near.”

“Ah,”
Bailey nodded. “If they don't go and blow the dang thing up.”

“Which
is a warning in a way,” Irons said with a shrug. He'd taken the precaution of
loading the little satellite with a daily ping set up to the orbital network
around the planet. He'd also hidden a message for any Fleet ship that passed
by. When they stripped the satellite for message traffic it would be there for
them to find. Of course it was encrypted so only a Fleet officer could open it.

“True,”
Bailey snorted as he watched the Admiral tap a control and the airlock door
opened. After a moment the satellite floated out of the airlock and into space.
He could just make out it beginning to deploy outside the lock before they lost
sight of it.

“It's
outside the ship's shield and falling behind Admiral.”

“It
wont stay put you know, it's going to orbit...” Bailey said. Irons smiled at
the chimp. “Or not...”

“Not.
Remember all that excess fuel?”

“Yeah?”

The
Admiral smiled knowingly. “Guess where some went?”

“Um...”
The chimp's nose wrinkled. He knew, he just didn't like being teased about it.

Irons
pointed to the image of the satellite. Already it's PAM rocket had kicked in,
moving it out to it's staging area. Antenna arms were unfolding like spidery
legs. Sensors on truss arms were also unfolding and coming to life. Finally arms
with solar panels were unfurling. The little satellite was quadrupling in size,
no longer a compact bundle. “She's got a full tank. Strap on tanks too. Sprite
cooked up a semi smart computer system that can refuel on the fly from those
bladders we dropped.”

“Which
I take it was the reason to drop them?”

“Well,
that and the fact that it's a good idea. We can refuel in a hurry if we need to
do so. Like, say if we're running back this way for some strange reason....”

The
chimp nodded. His face cleared but he still had a bit of a sour pucker around
his mouth. “Like our tail is on fire, or a pirate on our tail? Yeah gotcha, I
ain't dumb.”

“I
never said you were chief.” Irons patted him on the back.

“Admiral
you have an appointment in thirty minutes,” Sprite said a few hours later.
Irons looked up from the book tablet he had been reading and sat up. Sprite had
lowered the volume of the piece he had been listening to to talk to him. That
had gotten his attention right away. It was another epic piece by Zimmer, this
time a theme song from a long forgotten movie. Something about revenge. Avenge,
something or other. What ever. The title really didn't matter now. The song
however had really stuck to him, it's epic sweeping sound, full of spirit and
heroic passion. It was one of his favorites, one he'd kept since his childhood.

With
the last little thing done on his itinerary he didn't have anything left to do.
Bailey had engineering well in hand and most of the crew were doing
preventative maintenance or make work. Since he'd soured Bailey's mood today
with his little satellite he'd taken the opportunity to get some downtime in
his new quarters. They weren't much, but at least they were clean.

“I
do?” he asked confused. He had finished with his plans and the ship was about
to jump into hyper. What now? What was Sprite trying to pull? A diversion?

“Yes.
With a Miss O’Neill. April O’Neill, Knox news.” Sprite sounded smug.

His
nose wrinkled. Oh, hell. He should have known she would try something like
this. Diversion indeed. “A reporter?” Irons growled. He'd known one had been
aboard, but he hadn't seen her beyond a few flashes of red hair and a bright
yellow duster the lady wore. He'd tried to avoid direct contact. Fortunately by
staying in engineering country he had.

“It
would appear so,” Sprite said with a little chuckle. “Knox sent her out on this
historic voyage of discovery. I think it was mainly to get her out of his
hair.”

“Oh
wonderful. I'm curious as to why I haven't run into her before though.”

“That's
because she's been requesting an interview but you declined,” Sprite said
dryly.

“I
did? I don't remember anything of the sort Sprite,” he growled. “And FYI I
don't like being manipulated you know.”

“Who’s
manipulating you? I usually send an excuse since you are normally busy in
engineering and she takes it with good grace. This time I don't have one.” Her
virtual image shrugged helplessly. He frowned. Okay, she had him there. Damn.

“Ah.
Great,” he said. So much for not having anything to do. Engineering had been
running like a Swiss watch and he'd tied himself up for a while on projects to
help the people of Agnosta build. He was currently waiting for his replicator
to finish a tray of parts for his next project. He checked the time on his HUD.
It wouldn't be done for another hour and a half.

“Simple
interview Admiral,” Sprite said soothingly. “She's agreed to keep it on the
level. No ambush tactics, no fire and brimstone preaching against you. Nothing
in post either.”

“Just
the facts you mean,” he chuckled. Knox news made it's reputation with straight
talk and unbiased reporting. It was one of the reasons he favored them over
anyone else.

“I'd
say so. I think it would be advisable to keep the press on your side. If that
means putting up with questions then it's a small price to pay to get your side
of the story out.”

“It's
not a story, it's the truth,” he growled, straightening his uniform. Expert
hands checked things over. He turned, feeling self conscious as he checked
himself in the narrow mirror on the wall. It was cracked, but it was still
useable. He was fine. He was in his day coveralls, he had no intention of
dressing up for this.

“I
know that. You know that. She probably knows that. But there are shades of the
truth that people see. You can be as honest as you want and people will still
think you've got something to hide. No one is that honest; remember that
saying?”

“Yeah.
I do,” he sighed. “Where is this anyway?”

“Rec
deck. She reserved a private eating room for you and her.”

“Oh
lovely,” he grunted.

He
found the room easily enough, it was in an adjoining compartment off the main
rec room. He'd seen them but never bothered using any until now.

Sprite
directed him to the third room and he knocked. The hatch opened immediately. He
paused, taking in the scent of lilac perfume and the smiling redhead in a
yellow jumper before him.

“Miss
O’Neill a pleasure. I'm sorry we've had to put this off until now,” he nodded
to the buxom redhead who smiled at him and shook his hand. He bowed over the
hand then released it gently as she blushed.

She
was freckled, with an almost china white complexion that spacers can get. She
was wearing a fetching yellow one piece jumper with all sorts of pockets. It
was almost a skin suit, it was so tight, clinging to her skin. Of course she had
the zipper down a bit, just enough to expose some cleavage. “How are you doing
Admiral?” she asked with a winsome smile.

“Better
now that things have slowed down,” he replied smiling back in return. She
indicated the chair opposite her, so he sat. The hatch door closed behind him
automatically.

She
tapped the tablet in front of her and then smiled, all professional from the
very beginning. Interesting Irons thought as he watched her go to work. “I'm
speaking with Admiral Irons of the Federation Navy, now in exile on Destiny,”
she said looking over to the hovering camera robot.

“It's
Fleet Admiral,” he said clearing his throat.

“I'm
sorry?” she said looking to him.

“Fleet
Admiral John Henry Irons.”

She
blinked at him, taken aback. “Is there a difference?”

He
chuckled softly. “A grade. There are six grades of Flag rank. Admiral is
fourth, Fleet Admiral is fifth.” He tapped his collar to indicate the five gold
stars there. Normally a flag officer wore the pips on shoulder boards. He'd
taken a bit of liberty with his uniform design by preferring the understated
collar pips over the broad showy shoulder boards.

“Fifth?
What is the highest?”

“Grand
Admiral,” Irons replied with a shrug. “That is the person responsible for the
entire Federation Navy.”

“Which
you were doing. Shouldn't you be a Grand Admiral then? Or would have been?” she
asked, sitting back.

“No,”
Irons shook his head. “To become Grand Admiral you have to be voted on by the
Federation Senate and receive approval of the executive. Right now we are still
getting there.”

“Yes.
I see,” She nodded, glancing to the camera then back the Admiral. She crossed
her legs and then tapped her fingers.

“You
have implants?”

“Of
course. I and just about everyone in the military have implants. It is a
requirement. Along with regeneration, rejuvenation treatments, a minimum
education, and the clean bill of health that the medics make sure you have,” he
explained.

Her
sea green/blue eyes went wide. “Wow. I always thought about regen... quite an
incentive.”

The
Admiral shrugged. “Regen tech is expensive. It is an incentive to get good
people, and to retain them if possible. Usually regen is only offered to
someone on their second or third tour of duty. The lifer's in other words. It
is an investment in their future as well as the military's.”

“Ah,”
she nodded. “Quite a sugar coating,” she smiled.

“It's
not all fun and games. We do earn it.”

“How
does the Navy manage it's pay now that you... I'm sorry, they are rebuilding?”

He
tried hard not to clench his jaw. He wasn't sure if that particular peccadillo
had been aimed or not. “Well, first off, I'm not out of the Navy, I am just on
my way to set up a new station. I had planned on going out on Prometheus in a
year. This accelerated that plan
.
” He shrugged as she nodded and smiled
a little. “Second, there are several ways the Navy handles it's budget.
Currently in Pyrax, four come to mind.”