Yorktown: Katana Krieger #1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

and I want all the ideas I can get.

At 1100, Shelby and I float onto the bridge, make our way to the captain's station, and call up the signals menu. There's a big button on the screen labeled "Clear the Decks." My index finger lingers over it for just a couple seconds, then slides down.

Three tones, then a pre-recorded voice, "Attention. Attention. The ship is preparing to depart. All ashore."

I push a button on the arm of my couch and speak into my collar mic, my voice echoing throughout the ship. "This is Captain Krieger. On behalf of the crew of Yorktown , our deepest thanks to the Constitution crew. We would not be ready if not for your help."

Our Marines have the unenviable duty of making sure everyone is off, and making sure every hatch is sealed and ready for departure. My lead crew is back on the bridge within a minute of my signing off, except for Mr. Powell, who rightfully thinks the boss should physically be in engineering just in case. Two petty officers are at the bridge stations. We all strap into our couches, regulation in case something really bad happens.

I have my left screen set to the hatch menu, which shows a black outline of Yorktown, broken at every open hatch with a 45 degree mark. One by one, they turn from red to green, and shift to blend into the body.

Ensign Marcos, the second to Garcia and normally not paired with her is at the co-pilot's station. His voice rings through the bridge. "Green board."

I switch the left screen to a rotating set of engineering system indicators, the right to a rotating set of exterior camera images.

"Engineering, switch to internal power." I would cross my fingers, but someone might see. Nothing happens for a minute, then the change hits my screen.

" Yorktown on internal power. Reactor status nominal." Petty Officer Jordan makes my day. For the first time, my ship is standing on its own two feet.

I knew, or my rear end knew, every sensation that Ayacucho made, from the smallest pump engaging to the constant low hiss of her life support systems and vibration of the engines. I could tell which thruster was firing without looking at my panel. I'm looking forward to learning the idiosyncracies for my new command.

"Go or no go on ship status. Helm?" I try to keep my voice calm.

A decidedly non-calm Garcia. "Go."

"Engineering?"

A calm Powell on the intercom. "Go."

"RISTA?"

A joyful McAdams. "Go."

"Marines?"

Lt. Palmer way too serious with a somewhat un-Marinelike "Go" via intercom.

"Mr. Ayala?"

"Go."

"Mr. Perez?"

"Go."

"Mr. Garcia, inform dock control to disengage moorings and open dock seals."

"Affirmative." I have us all on the speaker so everyone can listen in across the ship. I watch as the pilot's hands fly across her screen, activating the comm channels.

"Dock Control, Yorktown , requesting moorings release and evacuation clearance." Garcia has a completely different business voice.

" Yorktown , Armstrong Station, moorings disconnected, standby for evac clearance." The dock controller is as excited as we are.

" Yorktown standing by."

Everybody with the right camera access, which is pretty much everybody on the ship who wants to, can see the vast doors of the dock open. The controller comes back and states the obvious.

" Yorktown , cleared to evac dock three. Maintain egress position at 300 meters."

"300 meters. Cleared to evac." Garcia forgot to use her business voice on that one.

I give the order. "Mr. Garcia, take us out."

"Aye, Skipper."

Yorktown is floating free in the bay, and Garcia gives her the tiniest of nudges from the rear thrusters. She and Marcos spend the next three minutes correcting even the smallest deviation from course. A mistake now could cost us the ship, and/or the entire station. Not to mention I'd be back home by next week, farming.

I don't breathe again until we hear Marcos' voice.

"Yorktown is cleared the dock."

I'll forgive him his slight grammatical faux pas.

We settle in at 300 meters, waiting, 24 mostly