On Patrol: Of Duties and Other Such Things
I bristled at that remark, instinctively dropping a hand to the grip of my service revolver before thinking better of it and using it to find the wrench he’d wanted instead.
“I take my duties on this ship very seriously, Captain. But you are the captain, and-”
Firus popped out from underneath the pipes, closing a hatch and refastening bolts to secure it back in place.
“Look, Miles. I know you mean well. But this is my ship, and I’ll be damned it I won’t take care of her. What have you got them doing right now, anyway?”
“They’re patching up number two, seeing as I couldn’t find a bypass flange for anything less than an arm and a leg here.”
“So you see, nothing lost by me fixing up things in the background!” he said, throwing bits back into the toolbox. “Besides, taking overpressure from number one and piping it through this exchanger will ease things somewhat.”
I sighed, knowing I wouldn’t win this time. Firus clapped me on the shoulder and told the engine crew to warm the furnaces for departure.