Admiral's Revenge (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 7

“I wouldn’t send you out with the Dungeon Ship if’n I didn’t think you could handle it,” Spalding assured her in a soothing voice, “you’ve proven you have the right kind of can-do attitude that will get things done!” he said, clenching his fist and raising it in the air at the memory of others who had been unable to get things done and lost his precious Clover.

  “You’re sending us out on a recruiting drive…in a Dungeon ship,” the new little Warrant Officer looked appalled, “the same one we were held prisoner on along with the Admiral?”

  “The one and the same,” Spalding agreed, “we’re refurbishing a couple extremely old freighters, but that’ll take a while. So in the meantime we’re just going to have to make do with what we have on hand. That means the dungeon ship.”

  “Sir, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there: if you want to send me back to the Com-section later I’ll understand,” Steiner said taking a deep breath, “putting recruits onboard a dungeon ship is a terrible idea. Heck, just showing up in a star system with a dungeon ship as our transport will turn off people who might otherwise be interested in serving. No one wants to sign up for a prison ship!”

  “You have a good point,” Spalding said agreeably, “that’s why it’s going to be your job to reclassify the ship as a recruit transport, and change all the transponders and communications protocols accordingly.”

  “Sir,” Warrant Steiner protested, “changing the electronic signature won’t be enough; anyone with a working sensor cluster will know from its profile exactly what kind of ship it is. Then it’ll be all over the planetary news networks in hours about how we tried to disguise the ship!”

  “We can tack-weld a few plates and antennas to the outside of the ship,” Spalding said waving the issue away, “we’ve got plenty of material floating around in mothballs just waiting to be used. I’ll assign you an engineering party to take care of the details.”

  “What if someone recognizes it anyway and asks why we’re trying to hide it?” Lisa asked sounding less the intrepid Officer and more the budding slacker.

  “Why then just tell them the truth, lass!” Spalding exclaimed irritably. “Say that the ship’s been modified inside and out to make it a more effective recruit transport ship, and try to minimize the PR damage. Sweet Crying Murphy, do I have to do everything myself? We have to have recruits to man our ships, and that ship is the lone transport we have available as of today and it’s our job—well, mostly now your job—to make this thing work.”

  “I understand, Commander Spalding, and we’ll do our best,” Steiner replied with less enthusiasm than he had hoped for, but more than he had feared to find. “We’ll get you those recruits.”

  “Good,” he growled and then with a last final glance at the malfunctioning control box inside the crawlspace, he shook his head bitterly. “Alright then, follow me so that we can get you up to speed as quickly as possible and I can hand off responsibility for the Drive to you.”

  “Sir, something just occurred to me,” Steiner said timidly, “what are we supposed to do if someone attacks us? You know, like pirates or the Sector Guard?”

  “Word is Druid and a number of his bunch have signed up,” Spalding replied, rubbing his chin as he conveyed this, “in his wisdom, the Admiral’s decided not to include them in the main fleet, but instead to send them out alongside your dungeon ship as an escort force.”

  “I see,” Lisa said faintly.

  “Don’t worry; you’ll have a Captain to run the ship, and the Commodore to handle the escort and protection duties. All you’ll have to worry about is packing the new ‘recruit transport’ full of blokes ready, willing and eager to join the outfit,” he hastened to assure her. “You and that Hierophant will only just have to focus on recruitment. First with the Dungeon ship, and then later on with those freighters,” he added, slamming a fist into his other, open hand.

  “Oh, and that reminds me,” Spalding said thoughtfully, “I’ll need to check in over there and make sure those constructor engineering lads remember to install sufficient life support to handle filling those two freighters up with crewmen and women. You can’t trust ‘em—civilians, I mean,” he explained as they strolled over and then into the nearest lift cube. “I had to deal with a number of them over at Gambit, and let me tell you: some of them even tried to form a space committee that would tell us what we could and couldn’t do!”

  “Yes, Sir,” Warrant Steiner said dutifully.

  “Of course, I put a stop to that,” Spalding declared placing his hands on his hips and scowling in remembrance. Stomping out of the lift toward the Station’s engineering section, the whine of his droid legs brought back the memory of the first time he’d had to beard that Demon-cursed abortion of a space committee. The only good thing about that whole affair had been seeing Glenda. Ah, sweet Glenda…

  “Something that just occurred to me, Commander Spalding,” Steiner said respectfully, breaking his train of thought.

  “What, Warrant?” he asked gruffly, to cover for his recent bout of woolgathering. What was he, some young swain lost to duty in a haze-like trance over the beauty of his would-be inamorata?

  “I was thinking that most recruiters at least mention earning power when recruiting new crew,” Steiner said biting her lip and looking worried. “I was wondering about offering a bonus to help increase recruitment numbers, but then I realized something…” she trailed off before straightening her features and womanfully continuing, “I’m owed several months back pay, and so are a lot of other people. Just how can we assure to pay them an honest yearly wage when our own pay is already in arrears? I realize that half our pay is put in a Caprian account for our return and the rest is paid out of the ship’s treasury, but if we’ve already run out of ship funds…”

  “Money worries is it, eh?” Spalding said pursing his lips in realization and then a light went off and he smiled down at her, “Never fear lass; Papa Spalding’s got the fix. I’ll need to have a word with the purser…” he paused as he mulled over the best way to deal with it.

  “I don’t think the purser is holding back, Commander,” Steiner said uneasily, “I know Easy Haven had some funds and has paid for the crew we transferred over so far, but word is they have to be running low on credits too. What with being an old, barely active base, rumor is they’ve been using funds intended for the Light Squadron’s repair budget to make wages.”

  “Don’t worry,” Spalding said brushing off the issue, “all will be straightened out as soon as I’ve spoken with the purser. Your back wages will be taken care of, stand on me, lass.”

  “But, Sir! Even if we cover up the back wages how will I be able to offer sign on bonuses for specialists and trained officers?” Steiner all but yelped.

  Spalding came a stop in the middle of the corridor and looked down at her with narrowed eyes. The way she ducked her head had him shaking his head.

  “No need to be timid, lass; you’ve brought up some good points. Although you’re lack of faith in your Chief Engineer leaves something to be desired,” he finished severely, and then started ticking off points on his fingers.

  “I suppose you’ll need a war chest of your own to do the signing payouts,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” the new Warrant explained in an overly patient voice, “I don’t think we have the money. Where are we supposed to get the funds? I suppose we could try to collect taxes owed to the Confederation, since it’s about time for the yearly collections but even so…we’re the military. Do we even have that right, Sir?”

  “Hmm, interesting point and something we’ll have to look into down the road—maybe even have the Ship’s Legal Officer take a look, he seemed to do well enough for the Admiral in that Trial of his,” Spalding said reaching up to twirl a bit of hair only to have his finger clang off the metallic portion of his skull, causing him to scowl at the loss of his once-magnificent mane.

  “But that’s all beside the point, War
rant,” he barked. “I said Papa Spalding would take care of all your worries, and that’s what I meant!”

  “Sorry, Chief Engineer,” Steiner said backing away, “I’ll just be going to see about Hierophant and begin the organizing.”

  “Now wait just a blasted minute Warrant!” Spalding declared, stepping forward and landing a heavy hand on her shoulder, he ignored the grunt she gave as he leaned part of his weight on her arm. “I said I’d take care of your monetary woes and that’s exactly what I meant,” he growled, “so we’re off to see the purser right now!”

  “But, Sir, I believe the purser is broke!” Steiner yelped as he dragged her along.

  “I heard you the first time, lass,” Spalding snapped, and the young woman wisely decided to remain silent but it was too late for that, she’d doubted his abilities. “What is it with the younger generation these days? They seem to think that everyone they meet is deaf,” he raged, going off on one of his newest pet peeves. “Didn’t her Chief Engineer just tell her that he would solve all her woes? But do they believe a man when he says he’ll set it right? Oh no,” he snapped, “they doubt him, they remind him, and silently they mock him and wonder if, after those quacks got done with him, if he’s really just a tin-headed, space-crazed old coot what never made past Lieutenant JG on account of his eccentricities! Don’t help none them Tracto-an types constantly referrin’ to him as a ‘wizard,’ I suppose,” he admitted introspectively in the midst of his tirade.

  “Sir, I never!” the female Warrant said in an elevated voice sounding increasingly concerned as he frog marched her back to the lift. “Please let me go, Commander!”

  “Well, we don’t need no magician to wave his hands and produce the needed credits,” Spalding declared, ignoring the little woman’s protestations.

  “What do you mean, Sir?” Lisa Steiner asked, hurrying along to keep up with the Chief Engineer’s long strides.

  Realizing his overly long droid legs were once again proving their inferior design, the old Engineer reluctantly slowed his pace.

  “We’ll head back over to the Medium Cruiser right away and get this all sorted out right,” he declared.

  “We will?” Lisa Steiner asked despairingly. “How will that solve any of our problems, Chief?”

  “It’s simple,” Spalding said throwing his hands wide and consequently releasing his hold on her shoulder, “why, any fool could see it, if they just looked at it for half a second.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the Warrant said looking at him with a look he was too familiar with lately.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” he growled at her angrily. “Well, when I’m done showing you the pirate treasure we’ve got locked up in her holds, you and all the rest of the doubting Janes will be eating crow!”

  “Pirate Treasure?” Steiner gaped. “You mean you have…treasure on the old ship?!” she said her eyes lighting up like Christmas lights.

  “Well, of course we have treasure in holds—and a whole pile of credits in the Captain’s strongbox, to boot,” Spalding explained in a slow, condescending tone. “Why, the Admiral’s Lady took the Omicron,” he said looking at her like she was stupid, “a larger pirate stronghold you’ll not find within three sectors, and of course that tough ol’ nut had treasure inside of her. The Lady knew the Admiral would probably need some for later on…” he paused in reflection, while the little Warrant’s mouth dropped open. “Of course, she was mostly talking about a ransom and how we should pay to get him back with the needful if we could. But of course I had a better plan than trusting to the word of crooked politicians,” he said knowingly, “based on rock-solid engineering principles and—”

  Near to the point of bursting, the little Warrant started hopping from foot to foot in her excitement. As it was clear she wanted to say something, the old Engineer came to a verbal halt and stared down at her with a gimlet eye.

  “What do ye have to say, lass,” he sighed, disappointed at the way she was breaking up a good story in such a fashion.

  “Treasure and credits—you mean we actually have spoils of war taken from the pirates!” Steiner clapped her hands with excitement. The out and out giggler looked more like she was a groupie for some kind of boy-band than a professional crewwoman and recently promoted Warrant Officer.

  “That’s what I was just tellin’ ye…up until I was so rudely interrupted,” Spalding grunted and then muttered under his breath, ‘idjits’.

  “Hurray!” Steiner said pumping her fist in the air. “We’re saved; the Lady’s done it!”

  “Oh, stuff and nonsense,” Spalding groaned at her antics, “and try to keep that girlish nonsense under control until after we’ve transferred the loot!”

  “Of course, Commander Spalding,” Steiner said hastily and then quickly schooled her face.

  Muttering under his breath, the old Engineer peered around the next corner before hurrying her along. He knew that money always attracted jackals, and the thought occurred that maybe he should call for a couple of Lancers to escort them over and back…just in case.

  “O’course, the most valuable liquid wealth we have is a little something I got my hands on back at Gambit,” Spalding couldn’t help but brag, “a compilation of tech manuals—Imperial tech manuals,” he added when the former Com-Tech didn’t seem to immediately understand.

  “Imperial…” she trailed off, looking confused.

  “Advanced technology and design schematics well beyond anything they’ve got access to in the Border Worlds,” Spalding grinned slyly, “now those will sell for a pretty penny…wouldn’t you say?”

  Steiner nodded her head rapidly, her eyes going wide at the implications of his words. When he saw her starting to look at him with growing awe, he knew that his work here was done.

  Just as he had done countless times before, it seemed that Papa Spalding would have to pull these greenhorns through the fire with nothing but his bare hands and the application of solid, fundamentally sound engineering principles.

  Chapter 7: Dealing with Brence

  “So you want me to go out to Gambit Station with you?” Brence asked eagerly.

  “Sorry, lad, I don’t think I was entirely clear,” Spalding harrumphed as he slid back out from under the junction box in the crawlspace—the very same one he’d been interrupted from before. This time he was careful to not bump his head as he exited, though. “Look, we’ll be travelling out together for part of the way, but completely on different ships. I’ll be in a fast courier vessel, you see, while you’re going to be heading out in one of those destroyers the Admiral broke loose from the Commodore. It’s the only thing large enough to hold the repair team you’ll need when you stop on over at the Omicron.”

  “The Omicron? I thought you needed me to help you back over on Gambit,” Brence looked crestfallen but then he perked up. “What’s this I hear about treasure and getting our back wages paid?”

  “Pull it back, lad,” Spalding growled, furious at the idea that treasure was more important than a badly-needed repair job—a job just like the half disassembled junction box he was still working on! The other man’s expression quickly evened out and his shoulders straightened in a proper semblance of military attention. “Listen up,” Spalding barked, “this is a mission-critical task I’m assigning you. We don’t have time to stand around jawing about money and credits, not when the Admiral’s going to need every hull he can get his hands on for more important things. So here’s what I’m going to need: you and your team have to be ready to liaise with the Omicron natives—those ‘Sundered’ people. Just make sure to get your hands on any of those ships that have space-worthy hulls. Be ready to drag them over to Gambit for a full refit…assuming the repair facilities over there aren’t up to snuff, as I suspect.”

  “I understand, Chief,” the former slacker said starting to perk up, “you can count on me, Sir. We won’t let you down!”

  “See that you don’t,” Spalding grunted.

  “But, Chief…is it true about t
he treasure?” Brence wheedled.

  “What did I just say about wasting time, you blue-faced blighter?” Spalding growled as his face started to purple.

  “Sorry, Sir! Apologies, Commander Spalding,” Brence said backing away and speaking quickly, “congratulations on the promotion!”

  “That’s it,” Spalding snapped, “you’re going to start sharing my pain!” he advanced on the former rating with hands raised into the air.

  “I’ll stay focused on the ships,” Brence tried to assure him in a strangled voice as he kept scrambling to back away from the angry engineer.

  “I’m regularizing your rank to a Chief Petty Officer’s and immediately frocking you to Warrant,” Spalding roared, “let’s see how you like trying to hand a repair job and juggle dealing with slacking work parties and treasure-seeking crew bosses!”

  Brence gaped at him and then immediately snapped to attention. “Th-Thank you, Sir! I won’t let you down,” the former slacker stammered, his eyes lighting up with joyful surprise, “this is a great honor, Chief!” The stupid lad then went so far as to stick out his hand and grab Spalding’s before the old engineer could think to pull it back. Pumping it up and down, the younger man shook his hand with a vigor known only to the young and ignorant until Commander Spalding couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Get off me, lad,” said the crusty old space engineer, forcibly removing his hand from the younger man’s grip. “Besides, this promotion is nothing more than you deserve.” Brence had done a good enough job ramrodding the Hydra into shape as its officially unofficial First Officer, but that was a cushy bridge officer position. It was time to punish the man properly, and Spalding knew just the job to do it. It was past time to see what Brence was really made of and the only way to do that was by giving him a real man’s job.

  Putting the former slacker in charge of an Engineering away team to the Omicron with the orders to salvage anything he could lay his hands on, ought to be more than enough to teach the new Warrant to think twice! Unless, of course, the younger man was simply a glutton for punishment, Spalding added silently as his thoughts wandered. Then he remembered the man’s former whiskey-seeking ways and he shrugged. This job would be the one to make or break him.