Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane (9 page)

“Funny for an AI to say that,” Irons replied, smiling slightly.

“Touché',” the AI replied, eyes flashing. She flicked her green
hair. She had taken to wear her dress whites instead of a day uniform when on
duty. He wasn't sure why, and wasn't going to ask. He hadn't set up a day
uniform schedule; he wasn't that anal about details if he didn't need to be.

“Why are you bringing this up?” he asked. He had been kicking
himself again for not dragging someone else along, but that was human nature,
to grumble at one's self for making a mistake. It was one way they made certain
they didn't do it again. When that thought formed he frowned.

“We've been talking about this several times for a reason and not
just because I have been kicking myself. I know you have too.”

“True. But sometimes you need the reminder Admiral,” Sprite said.

“Or a swift kick in the posterior to remember next time?”

“Sometimes that is how resolve is formed.”

“And now you're saying I've been giving in too easily.”

Sprite spread her hands. “Far be it from me to point out the
obvious Admiral.”

“You've been exasperated with me?”

“I have... come to a lively appreciation of your plan. It's...
well, you did say there is a method to your madness. I can see peeks of sanity
and of your long term goals and plan but getting there...” she shook her head.

“But, you just reminded me, and I keep reminding myself Commander,
there is no going back, just forward. So the question is, where do we go from
here?”

“Definitely no going back, we lack the fuel.”

“True.” Irons frowned, checking the readings. He didn't like what
he saw either, but it was within ten percent of what they had projected.

“There is no going back. Or there is, it depends on where you go
back to? And what you take with you? A new resolve?”

“I'll think about it Commander.”

“Thank you Admiral,” Sprite said softly. “Like you said, we need
to keep our options open. Putting Bek on a pedestal and risking everything on
it...” She shook her head.

“Right. But again, we're committed now. At least for the time
being until we're in Beta 101a1 space.”

“True Admiral.” Sprite checked her station. “I can spell you for
the time being Admiral,” she said. At least she didn't sound so cautious. She
had found she could handle the task for brief periods of time before it became
tedious.

“Thanks,” he said, getting up and stretching. He rubbed the small
of his back.

“Don't mention it. Except in my service records.”

“Bucking for promotion?” Irons asked, amused. He looked at her
avatar. She had grown up a lot over the past few years. She had gone through
several builds. She had been burned in Antigua, but seemed fully recovered. He
wasn't going to bring it up if she wasn't.

She pursed virtual lips and then shrugged. He shook his head.
“Well, will wonders never cease,” he murmured, leaving the bridge.

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

“We're shooting for the Hidoshi's World jump zone?” Phoenix asked.

“Still on target,” Irons said, checking the scope. It would be
easy to overshoot they were flying almost blind. Flying on instinct, something
spacers hated to do.

He'd liked the idea because it would add to his legend, but there
was a big difference from building on the legend and living it. He was putting
his neck on the line here, and a lot more was riding on this roll of the dice
besides that a hell of a lot more.

Ships didn't have to exit at a jump point. They could go wide, or
short, or long. Too long and you could end up in the inner system and add
stress to your hyperdrive the closer you got to an object of significant mass.
Exiting near such mass tended to do bad things to a ship, like oh, loose
containment on the hyperdrive.

A jump point was a spherical safe zone mapped out for ships to
enter or exit from hyperspace. There it was known to be clear of obstructions,
though on occasion orbital mechanics would have an object like a comet or
asteroid pass through. Spacers tended to clear the space lane to make it safe
for themselves and others who followed in their wake.

Outside that safe area was questionable; a spacer couldn't clear
the entire outer system after all. But many ships had made a jump exit into
space around a star system without such comfort and security. It was a hazard,
but the risk was sometimes worth the reward.

Those that didn't know what was coming, new systems... He frowned,
thoughts trailing off for a moment as they hit an old but still sore spot in his
psyche. His daughter had done it for years before her exploration ship had been
lost. His son had presumably done it as well.

It was one problem of defending a star system, why they emphasized
mobile defensive platforms over orbital forts. Forts were usually fixed
defensive structures, with fixed ranges.

He personally didn't like forts; they tied too much fighting power
into one big target. They took thousands of people to crew one, and they took
massive resources to build and maintain. Sure they could mount massive energy
budgets, armor, shields, and weapons, but the same could be mounted in multiple
hulls, which could then be scattered over a wide area. That gave you platform
redundancy through quantity not just quality. Besides, they could move to the
location of an enemy force far easier than a fort could.

Right now the argument was moot, he thought. Spacers needed the
safety of jumping into a known safe zone, so they could be mined or forted up;
at least for now.

“You don't often think of your family; of your daughter. Why is
that?” Sprite asked softly.

“Reading my mind again?” he asked.

“Part of the job.”

“And being a sounding board. I get that,” he said, adjusting their
course with fine precision. “It's... it's hard to live with the loss of a loved
one. You have memories of them, fond, angry; it's all jumbled sometimes. Things
you wished you had done, said...”

“When Firefly asked you about your daughter...”

“He knew she was dead. I knew she was dead.”

“But at the time Admiral...”

“I knew,” he said, not taking his eyes off their bearing. “Not as
a parent, but as an officer. A parent can hold out hope against any rational
assessment of the situation. As an officer; I can to some degree, but reality
has to come in.”

“She was an explorer? She knew the risks?”

“Of course. I knew them too. So did her mother. Exploring another
galaxy? Far from home...”

“Do you think she found the Xenos?”

“I have no clue. Maybe. We lack so much information about the
final phases of the war. Just what the hell happened? We don't know. It's
maddening. Did we win? Lose?”

“I'd say somewhere in between,” Sprite answered.

“True. Some have said there is no winning or losing in a war, just
different shades of losing. I get that now. Pyrrhic victory.”

“Do you think we should have cut the bridges?”

“I... don't know. And don't ask me if I feel responsible for the
gate. I don't know. I don't know if they had their own gates, I don't know if
there was a natural one. No clue. They didn't use ours.”

“Except the one they managed to secure.”

“Yes, the Sigma gate. I know. I'm not sure why they didn't blow it
right away. Did they think of the wasted cost involved? Balk at throwing away
the investment? I mean... did they think it would cost too much? Or that we
could retake it somehow?” He shook his head in frustration.

“Instead they fought a massive battle and blew it up.”

“At the cost of tens of thousands of lives; millions of tons of
starships and dozens if not hundreds of AI. They uncovered systems to do it.
But it didn't matter, the damage had been done.”

“Or the enemy had another gate.”

He nodded curtly. “Right.”

“So, you don't feel responsible, even a little for working on the
wormholes and creating the gates?” Sprite probed cautiously.

Irons shook his head. He had been but a cog in the greater wheel
when it came to implementing the gates. Sure, he'd overseen the engineering,
but he knew a few other engineers that could have done it as well as him. They
had worked out just fine for nearly twenty years, cutting transit time from one
sector of the galaxy to another. But then someone had gotten it into their head
to try to connect to nearby galaxies. “No. That's like asking Henry Ford if he
felt bad over a drunk driver killing someone. Yes on one degree I suppose I
should.”

“Admiral, do you remember the expression, scientists and engineers
always wonder if they could and never question if they should?” Sprite asked.

“There is only so far I'll accept the sack cloth and ashes self
masochism Sprite. It's done. I know that Eisenstein and others hated their
contributions, and they died regretting the things they did, but once the genie
is out of the bottle...” He shrugged. “I can't make people use a device how I
think it should be used. That's not an excuse, that's an expression of reality.
I can go Nobel's path, when he was labeled a warmonger for inventing dynamite
he was so horrified he changed into a philanthropist.”

“Which benefited mankind.”

“And I bet if you go through all the other past scientific
achievements, and the Nobel’s people received for them, you'd find all sorts of
questionable things like the gates. Things that were intended to help
civilization but instead were twisted for war. I'm not going to dwell on it. It
is the past I can't change it. I'm going to move on,” he said grimly, settling
himself and taking a deep cleansing breath before letting it out slowly.

“Forward thinking.”

“While keeping a healthy respect for the past. And try to
appreciate efforts by you and others for reminding me to keep an eye on things
like that.”

“Thank you.”

“Even when I wouldn't mind ringing a certain busy body AI's
virtual neck for hitting a sour point in my rosy achievement list.”

“Just keeping you honest Admiral,” Sprite said.

“Sometimes I don't have the luxury of doubt. I have to make a
decision and get it done. See it through,” the Admiral said, paraphrasing a
lesson from officer's training.

“Correct.”

“And you knew that of course. Which meant all this was another
psych test,” Irons exhaled noisily, realizing he'd been set up. “And another
way of reminding me, what's done is done, we have to go on from here. Which is
this,” he waved to the ship and their rapid approach to their emergent point.

“Again correct,” Sprite said. “As you said, we'll deal with it.”

“Hell yes we will. Preparing for emergence. Dropping to Alpha.
Power at ninety percent.”

“No obstructions detected. Course adjusted, we are on track for
projected emergent point.”

“Jump point Joker. Aye,” Irons replied. “Fuel reserves?”

“Sufficient for emergence and ten days in real space at ten
percent power.”

“Crap,” Irons said softly. He'd cut it pretty close, perhaps too
close. He'd banked on a couple grav waves to draw power from, but they had been
frustratingly too far off course to utilize. Oh well. Again it was something
that was behind them.

“Emergence in two minutes from mark. Mark,” Phoenix said. “Corona
discharge from port stern drive pod.”

“Noted,” Irons replied. The pods on the port stern were going out
of alignment. That was to be expected after constant use for such a long period
of time without relief. He'd have to do a reassessment and realignment in
subspace. AFTER they got the fuel situation sorted.

“Emergence in ten. Hyper drive is cycling down. We have cross
over,” Phoenix reported as the ship flashed into subspace in a burst of light and
static energy.

“Position?” Sprite asked, sounding a bit anxious.

Irons was keenly interested as well, but well aware he had a duty
to perform. He checked over the systems carefully. The hyperdrive was in safe
mode, which was good. “No disharmonics detected. Energy shields are at ten
percent. That is sufficient for particle shields. Discharge rate is tapering
off. I wish we could have tapped it,” he sighed.

“Not happening,” Phoenix replied, sounding distracted. Irons
looked to see the empty navigational station cycling through the sector star
chart. “Spectral analysis of the local star is confirmed, we are in the Beta
100 omega system,” the AI announced, sounding smug.

“All right!” Sprite crowed.

The Admiral smiled and nodded. “Good work people. Well done.”

“And we didn't fall too far off the mark either. We are south and
ten degrees east of the Hidoshi's World jump point. Off target by about a
million kilometers.”

“Excellent,” the Admiral replied, smiling, so far so good. To have
come so close to hitting the bull’s eye from thirty-one parsecs away was good.
He'd pat himself on the back later though, he thought.