"I was afraid of this, Captain," Covington said, his Scottish brogue thick with tension. "The component that failed in the ion flow system is also missing from our backup supplies. We dunnae have a replacement."
As Lamont was taking in the frenetic scene, still trying to tamp down the nausea induced by the spinning stars that dominated his vision, the automatic door behind him hissed open. Arthur Covington made a quick survey of the scene from beneath his cap before marching in the direction of the captain. The bullish man marched briskly past Lamont and the crew members at the console, heading directly toward the captain. In his hairy hand he gripped a trailing computer readout, torn so hastily from its printer that the bottom edge was jagged. Lamont edged around the opposite side of the console toward the command bench, keeping one hand on the console's surface to steady himself.
As Carter turned to meet the readiness chief, Lamont saw that his apparently unperturbed demeanor was in fact a mask of tightly controlled tension. The fine lines around the captain's eyes and mouth stood out starkly, and even in the dim red light, Lamont could see that Carter's knuckles were white from the tightness of their grip on the head of his cane. Chief Covington came to a stop in front of him and thrust the computer readout toward him.
"I was afraid of this, Captain," Covington said, his Scottish brogue thick with tension. "The component that failed in the ion flow system is also missing from our backup supplies. We dunnae have a replacement."
Carter took the readout and scanned it quickly, following the course of Covington's thick finger. "How is that possible, Arthur?"
Covington shook his head, his muttonchops quivering. "I cannae explain it, Captain. The store of parts is carefully organized and cataloged, with a strict checkout system. I know—I designed it myself."
Carter looked up from the readout, his brow furrowed. "And you're certain the component is not there?"
"Aye, Captain. I checked myself, twice. It's not there."
Carter handed the readout back to Covington. "This is unthinkable, Arthur. We're on our own out here. We can't very well just requisition a new part from United Space."
Covington nodded grimly. His bulldog face, shadowed by sullen lights, looked menacingly dark. "Aye, Captain. I'm well aware of that. But I have no explanation for how this could have happened. The system is foolproof, and the part is only useful for one thing. It's not as if someone would have pilfered it to use as a desk ornament."
"We'll worry about the 'why' later," Captain Carter decided, turning toward the console, where Long, Ucan and Bishop had looked up from their control panels to watch the exchange. "Alright, boys, let's have some options."
Lamont winced. Sandra blinked in offense while Abigail seemed, despite the tension of the moment, to be slightly amused. Carter was evidently snapping back into a mode that he had employed decades before, when he and his small crews were pitting themselves against an unforgiving Solar system in atomic tin cans.
"The—" he double-checked the readout. "The Charged Particle Induction Valve on the port side has blown, and we don't have a replacement. Can we jerry-rig it?"