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Still, it was slightly annoying. He’d have to do something about that at some point. A blip on Quinn’s screen alerted him to Watson’s change in tactic as the A.I. tried to access only a non-essential system. A quick scan on life support explained why.
“Whatever.”
He gave a mental command, and the A.I. gained access to the intercom system in a limited overwrite capacity. Anywhere Quinn went, the music followed, blaring at the level he preferred, but Watson could shut it off to the rest of the ship.
The life support system showed three souls aboard.
The one he was concerned about was in engineering. An older man wielded a stun gun in the process of giving every speaker a short blast. It sent back feedback and flipped the array to that specific speaker. They’d have to be manually switched back on, as the system was not advanced enough to function without toggle switches.
The man’s back was to Quinn, but as he turned to get the last speaker, attempting to quell the noise, Quinn got a good look at him.
Wild eyes framed with broad, thick brows furrowed in anger. A slight quiver went through a full mustache that traveled into his beard. He had silver hair, hands that no amount of washing could clean, and his personnel file had stated a tendency towards anger. The years of anger showed in the lines of his face, which made it apparent just what he thought of the music. “What sort of blasted noise are ya trying to blow me ears out with?!”
That file also filled in other relevant information, Alec O’Malley, Chief Engineer, human. Not that it mattered to him.
“It’s fekking classical music yer desecrating with that bloody stun gun of yours.” Quinn shot off as a drone split off from the following set to repair the breaker. “And why the fek are you on this ship? I don’t need idiots running around my workyard, making a bloody nuisance of themselves.”
“Because it’s my bloody ship!” The mustache bristled, and the man’s cheeks went a ruddy shade of red that flared to his ears.
He fired at another speaker. The man had the sort of aim that any security team would admire.
With the noise cut off, his mustache stopped its quivering as Alec said, “And your ‘workyard’,“ He made finger quotes, “Is my engine room. You’re here to make your adjustments, but I‘ve got upkeep, too.”
“There is probably a way I could say this without offending you,” Quinn said, his own expression impassive. “But I don’t fekkin care to. Fer the next three months, this ship is my bloody workyard. And whatever ya do on this ship is going ta cause more harm than good because, frankly, ye aren’t smart enough ta handle any of this equipment. I’ve seen the outdated equipment yer trained ta work on, and I don’t have time ta give ye a fucking lesson right now.”
The speakers turned back on, flooding the engine room with music. Quinn raised his voice to compensate, “Now, unless ya accidentally want to set off a cascade that will result in this ship and your boss’s boss’s ship ta go up in a fusion explosion with enough yield to level everything within a hundred kilometers why don’t ya go take some fekking shore leave and let me work?”
One drone flitted around Quinn. Equipped with a large electromagnet, it ripped the gun from the Alec’s grasp. Behind him, the reactor core popped out.
A massive circular ring had been visible before the removal with a viewing port, but the entirety being yanked from place gave one perspective of the size. Powered by an antimatter reactor it flooded the ship with raw power, this one ventured on sixty years old, the technology outdated even by regular standards. The side maintenance accesses were open, the wiring severed cleanly at the hub, so as it passed by Alec he could see every hatch open and only remnants of the original hook ups.
Removed through a new hole formed straight through the hull of the ship and out into open space, a shining force-field let the metal head out while keeping the air in.
The engineer twisted to observe the deconstruction. The furiousness of his expression and his anger were so well displayed to someone who understood expression. But there was tension in the way he stood, something Quinn didn’t recognize.
“Oh ai,” Alec said, looking back to Quinn. “You think yer clever don’t ya son. Well, I’ll be damned if imma listen to such a farce while you do yer so called work.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. This job was already giving him a migraine. He rubbed at his temples in irritation. A drone swung around in front of Alec and a holographic display popped up, showing a spaceship part. Using it to prove the updates were well out of the range of his comprehension, the hologram winked out of existence a second later.
“Instead of fekking around in my workyard making a nuisance of yerself and setting me back the time it takes for me to repair whatever thing you break in a petty act of revenge. Why don’t ya find yerself a nice beach off this fekking ship and try to learn how to repair it after I am gone? ‘Cause yes, I do think I am fekking clever, pops.”
“Never much liked beaches,” the engineer said. “Nor do I take leave if the Capin’ ain’t leaving either.”
The pulling of spit sounded. Alec drew a bottle from the pocket he had his left hand in. What came from his mouth was dark, but the metal cup hardly showed it other than a fleck that he wiped from his beard with the back of his hand.
“Oh fer feks sake!” Quinn swore in irritation. His neural net tapped into the intercom system and he found the room he wanted with just a quick scan on life support.
“What the fek are ye still doing on the ship?” Quinn’s voice crackled over the speakers in Kira’s room. Interrupting the previous silence Watson gained. “Rhetorical, don’t care. Your annoying ass of a mechanic won’t fek off if ye won’t so fek off.”
Quinn couldn’t see Kira, but she was still halfway down in the chair. Her glass dangling from her fingertips, which hung off the armrest. Hearing him come over the intercom, Kira let out a heavy sigh and rose, setting her cup down on the table.
“So polite Mr. Quinn.” Her words were intelligible, but the pitch was high enough that it was clear she was smiling at the way he told her to leave. “For your information, Mr. O’Malley is working on some interior structural issues that should not interfere with your own work.”
“I really, really cannot wait ta be away from all ya gormless fekking idiots.”
Killing the call, he removed Watson’s access to the ship’s non-essential systems, putting his music back on full blast. He’d tried his version of being nice, letting them control the volume where they were so they didn’t have to deal with it. But if they couldn't even get out of his way, he was done being considerate towards them. He was going to act like they weren’t there.
Quinn locked every access door to the ship’s systems, having his drones put signs everywhere that read clearly: “Authorized Personnel Only.” He gave them full access to the living area and similar cabins within the ship but anything technical was off limits.
