Yorktown: Katana Krieger #1 by Bill Robinson Read Free Book Online Page B

workmanship. This is paint. It's a fake."

I move in to take a closer look.

"And, Captain, we saw this on engine four when we started the rebuild, but this pump is from engine two I'm sorry, sir, we should have noticed a long time ago." Her team has disappeared into the bowels of the engineering space.

Frak. Cost cutting? Sabotage?

"What about the primary fuel pumps?" An important question, but mostly to stall while I think.

"They're normal, stock parts, but they can't handle the pressure that these fake babies create when they fail. We don't dare start up an engine without the pressure regulators functioning properly."

"How about 1 and 3?"

"One's good to go, three Petty Officer Carver is inspecting as we speak." Carver must have heard her name, because she floats down from above almost instantly, another camera setup in her hand, shaking her bald head.

"No go, boss, number 3 has the same markings."

Shoot me. Two hundred light years from home, one good engine, rescue mission might be needed for us. Except we're not going down that easy.

"Spares?" My last hope.

"We have one, that's one, good spare. We'll put it on number 3 for balance if you agree."

I look at Shelby, she nods, I nod back at Emily.

"Lieutenant, sabotage or illegal cost cutting?"

"My opinion sir?" I give her another nod.

"Sabotage."

Chapter 3
     
     
    The captain of a crippled frigate asks a few more questions of her chief engineer, then leads her First officer back to the bridge, where they grab the Second, and roust the chief pilot and RISTA from bed. A five minute explanation leads to a five minute argument between the Second and the RISTA.

"We need to call the corvettes back," Mr. Ayala suggests, "Can't leave them out there if they are going to need our help and we can't provide it."

"The search pattern isn't nearly complete, we don't have enough data to understand the tactical situation," RISTA counters.

"The tactical situation is that we're screwed. Good strategy is to maximize our mass in one spot and redo the search parameters." The back and forth continues.

I should have stopped it earlier, but I find it mildly entertaining, and a useful distraction when I need to think.

"Shelby, what do you think?" I cut off the two boxers before either one goes for the knockout.

"Stay with what we started, no reason to change until we have better data." At that, the ensign in the room smiles a little cat smile.

"Mr. Garcia," I change direction, "How will this impact our course correction?"

"No impact, sir, we need to recalc for the abnormal thrust conditions."

I wish she had used a different word than "abnormal."

"RISTA, have we learned anything yet?"

"No sir," now the Second is smiling, "but our data analysis has just begun. We're 12 hours from closest approach, and that's when the fun should start."

"How about the signal from Gamma Omicron 1?"

"Still there, but weak and intermittent. No way to determine if it's a disaster beacon or just a radiation anomaly."

"Ok. I'll alert the corvette captains of our status. We'll continue as planned, but let's go on alert for the next 24 hours, just in case. Extra hands at all stations. Anything else?"

Shelby hems, not her usual style, then speaks. "Do we send a message home?"

"No," I'm taking something of a risk, "Not until we have some good news to go with it."

I shoo them out of my ready room, and draft an encrypted message to the two boat captains. It will take a half-hour or so to get to them at their current distances. Then I settle in to read their hourly reports, which takes 10 minutes. Nothing to report except some possible radiation trails from ships, fairly old, in the vicinity of one of the mining stations in the asteroid belt.

We make a painful course correction four hours later on one engine, Powell not ready to try number three yet. Ayala's right about one thing. If the corvettes get into trouble, we are a long way from being able to help.

Free fall routine settles in aboard. We are