Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

partially, since the crew jury rigged it to produce only basic components.  Class threes could build quite a number of things, but required certain security codes to make things like weapons, military-grade items like hyperdrives, shields, computers and other replicators.  Republic and Federation replicators worked under the same principles, as neither of the large governments wanted civilians or criminal elements to have access to those sorts of things.  Without the codes, one still had access to civilian grade equipment, which, naturally, wasn’t as hardy.  If you tried to hack the system, the replicators would lock down, and if you tried to bypass the lockouts without those codes, the control systems and computers that ran the replicator would wipe and all the computer chips would self-destruct.  No danger to the foolish operator who tried to make something from the restricted list, but the chips would melt.  Then the constructor system, which was a storage tank of engineering nanites, would for all intents and purposes consume itself, leaving nothing but an empty tank.  Once a replicator was destroyed like that, there was nothing to do but pull it out and build another.  It would be completely gone.
                  Sadly, the database didn’t indicate the state of the second replicator or why it was down, but that was something she would need to discover.  Perhaps she could barter her skills and the use of her security codes for a ride somewhere.  However, she couldn’t risk the crew finding her as she was; unarmed, disoriented and alone.  There wasn’t anything she could do about the alone part, and she wasn’t sure she could do much about the unarmed part either.  She was a decent shot; it was a requirement in the Navy, especially for those in the starfighter squadrons.  She’d kept up her shooting skills, more of a way to blow off steam than any desire to put a bullet in someone.  But from what she’d seen of this cargo bay, there weren’t any guns laying around. 
                  There were always opportunities, she was an engineer, after all, but according to the very spotty internal sensors, it seemed as though she would only have a minute or two before a pair of crew came in to inspect their prize.  Rushing from the console, she raced around the bay, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.  Finding a meter long steel pipe, which had about a two-centimeter wide diameter, she grabbed it up.  An improvised club wouldn’t match up against a pistol or stun rifle, but it might have to do.  She didn’t have time for anything else and the crew had very unhelpfully left their gun cabinet in another part of the ship.
                  The cargo bay door slid open, she could hear it rumbling on squeaky gears and she winced.  Clearly, something else that needed fixing.  She could hear two male voices speaking gruffly to one another.
                  “So why are we down here again?” one asked.
                  “Because the Captain wants us to check out the pod we picked up,” the other voice replied.  The second voice had a bit of hissing and clicking that accompanied it.  “You’re not that dumb, Ygris.  Not usually anyway.”
                  “What’s that smell?” the first voice, Ygris, apparently, asked. 
                  “It’s the pod,” the hiss-click voice replied.  “Maybe it opened.  Maybe there’s a dead body inside.”
                  “Uck, really?  I don’t wanna be dealing with no dead body.”
                  “You think I do?” Hiss-click shot back.  “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
                  Tamara padded around the stacks, trying to keep out of sight, though at the same time she was looking to try and see these crewmembers.  She peered around a pile of crates, trying to keep as much out of sight as