Free Wandering Engineer 6: Pirates Bane by Chris Hechtl Page B

in case of future need.
    Now he was uncertain if the mobile yard and any of the facilities
built in Bek were still there. He'd left orders to leave the yard behind, it
was too dangerous to fly it back out. The population could have abandoned it,
they could have triggered a self-destruct... any number of possibilities played
out in his mind, not many good.
    “But, if they did keep a hand in space...” he murmured.
    “Thinking of Bek?”
    “Yes.”
    “There isn't much hope that they kept a space industry going Admiral.
If they have no trade with outside systems and no need for heavy industry... if
they were forced back to subsistence living with the loss of modern tech
brought on by the lock outs...”
    “Yeah,” Irons sighed. He didn't like the implications there. Not
one bit.
    “But, focusing on the positives, Bek has that yard, if it still
exists. Plus, it had, or should I say had, a decent asteroid belt, but not a
dense one like Antigua or Pyrax. Of course Pyrax was partially artificial, from
the destruction of the planet Eden.”
    “True.”
    “Other systems are like that as well though.”
    “True.”
    “So what do we do?”
    “For now, not a whole hell of a lot, we're still getting to Beta
101a1 after all. We don't have any intel to go on off of either.”
    “True. And if the planet had been hit with a Xeno bomb?”
    “Then there is no reason to linger,” Irons replied. “Except to
refuel and take on whatever we can... if it is worth it.”
    “Which it won't be. The threat of contamination...”
    “It is yes an issue, but we don't know anything for certain. In
fact, all we have is an absence of information. So, we need to plan for what we might find.”
    “I'm more worried about politicians. They see us showing up,
riding our great white charger in, expecting to take over...”
    The Admiral rubbed his brow. “Yeah, Antigua and Pyrax all over
again. Thanks.”
    “All part of the job sir,” Sprite replied.

Chapter
4
     
    A month before break out he'd found another hobby. He tinkered
with the powered combat suit and gear Sprite had picked up for him in Antigua
and on Epsilon. He sat on the stool, examining the right shoulder with expert
engineering eyes. Up until now he hadn't bothered with it, but now he needed a
hobby. Running the helm was getting to him, he needed the distraction to
release the pent up tension of sitting at the station for hours on end. He was
starting to see plotting in his sleep. Something he hadn't had to experience
since he'd been a shave tail Lieutenant.
    He welcomed the distraction on one level, not that he really
needed the suit. Sure it was nice to have, but he could go Ironman or bare if
needed. He had done that on Antigua Prime, using his skin suit and bits of
armor and even components from his shuttle as an improvised armor when he went
on a rampage to get to the command center of the station.
    He shook that memory away. It was one of the rare times he had
truly lost perspective, and let his anger rule him. It had felt good to get his
mad out, even if it had undermined his image in the eyes of the cybers. Still,
it had cut to the heart of the problem, and it had put a healthy dose of fear
and respect in some eyes. He returned his attention to the suit.
    Ironman had worked in a pinch, but having a fully operational suit
on hand when you needed it did have its advantages as well. He was tempted to
just throw the pieces into a replicator and use them as material for a new
suit, but he just didn't have the spare power. Besides, it was fun tinkering
with an ancient design. There was something to be said about restoring a
classic.
    The suit was ancient, an old militia suit a thousand years old
that had seen better days. It was more shell then functional suit. Some of it
was beyond his current resources to fix. He worked with Proteus to use his
nanites to as much repairs as possible.
    He frowned at the persistent scratching sound at the hatch. The
two waifs were a pain; they