Of course not. Milla sighed, dropping into a crouch by the open panel. She looked over the systems but didn’t see anything damaged. That was a good thing. The shipyards were all occupied with new constructions or conversions, like the Carlache, which made replacement components pricy.

“All right, make sure you haven’t damaged the crystals, and close up that panel. I’ll check the software,” Milla said as she began the task, her fingers flying over the panel.

It took only minutes to find the problem: a minor software conflict had shunted the targeting sensors off alignment by two degrees. A small error, perhaps, but at any realistic combat range, it would result in missing the target by thousands of meters. Not something she could allow to slip by so easily. Even though they hadn’t known what to do about it, she was glad that the two had managed to spot the error.

The feat was made even more impressive by the fact that both of the technicians were mining engineers whose work didn’t rely on split-second arming and aiming. Milla dismissed them, sending them off to other work, and walked over to the wall.

“Chans to Captain Tal.” Milla palmed the intercom’s switch with a graceful sweep of her hand.

“Tal here. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“The problem has been resolved. All systems have been cleared for service.”

“Good, we’ll be breaking orbit shortly. Two outer colonies have reported unknown ships approaching their outer perimeters.” The captain’s voice sounded grim. “Configurations appear to match the historical records.”

Milla signed off and sank back into the programmer’s chair. The Drasin had been little more than folklore to her and her people until now. Scary stories that were bandied about on dark nights. They weren’t supposed to be real. They certainly weren’t supposed to be approaching the outer worlds.

Milla forced herself to relax. Real or imagined, they won’t be allowed to harm anyone. Our new systems are the best that can be made. We’ll meet these Drasin, and if they are hostile, we’ll deal with them on their own terms.

She had returned to her quarters when she felt the shudder run through the deck plates as the ship’s engines powered up. She instinctively reached out and grabbed the nearest wall as the ship accelerated out of orbit. A second later, the ship’s artificial gravity field compensated, and the feeling passed. She knew they were now powering away from Ranqil, her home world, and were underway to the outer colonies.

I never really believed that upholding the oath would fall to me and my generation. Like the Drasin, it was just a story, Milla thought as she stripped down, pulling the silicon-covered garments away from her body and grimacing as the gel and powder clung to her skin and hair.

Being an engineer aboard any ship, let alone a hastily refitted warship, was dirty business. On a ship like the Carlache, it was doubly so. The carbon crystals used to align the new weapons systems had a tendency to overheat, so each one had to be smeared with a messy silicone gel that contained suspended heat-dispersion capsules.