Free Yorktown: Katana Krieger #1 by Bill Robinson Page A

food, the usual argument between the Second and RISTA, and a half hour listening to Palmer and looking at photos, we get down to brass tacks.

"Anything else we can learn by hanging around here?," I already know the answer, but gotta ask. There's a chorus of shaking heads.

"I agree. We're still agreed that investigating Trump is our next step?"

Unanimity of nodding heads.

"Anyone with any hard info on where Bainbridge is?"

Embarrassed and lame head shaking this time, but still unanimous. RISTA has been looking like she has something to say. I guess I haven't asked the right question yet.

"RISTA?"

"We assign a 78.3% probability that Richard was destroyed by something larger than 36's."

"That's crazy." It's Ayala, probably just looking for another argument, maybe some more ZGM. I look him quiet.

A 36 inch laser mounts on battleships. No active Union warship carries a weapon that big, the two remaining Royal Navy dreadnaught class have them, but we'd wax their candy butts no problem. As far as we know, none of the Dynastic ships mounts them any more either. Budget cuts all around for our band of brothers.

A 36 is not twice as powerful as an 18, its four times, and that makes it two and a quarter times one of our 24's.

"Bigger than a 36?" I make sure I don't sound like my Second officer.

"Yes, sir."

Lt. Palmer is not normally part of these discussions, probably my bad, but destroyers don't carry Marine units, and the Marines and Navy are very separate on a cruiser. Didn't really think it through when I took on Yorktown , maybe I need to.

"Captain," he interjects before I can respond, "My team think so too. We didn't put it in the report because we wanted to wait until we could do a measured test, but they came to that conclusion in the field, sir."

"How much bigger?"

"We think something like a 42 from the energy signatures." RISTA says it gently.

Ayala won't shut up. "Who's ever seen the energy signature for a 42?" I eyeball him again, he lets me ask the next question.

"A 42. That's three times the energy of our cannons. Each." Not really asking a question, but I am.

"Affirmative. Not exactly 42, the math isn't a perfect match, but close enough. Richard took two hits."

Shelby can't hold herself back. "Two hits did that to an 800 ton warship?" She's pointing to the picture of the debris field on the screen.

"Affirmative. We isolated two vectors of energy bursts from the data."

Three little conversations break out among the seven of them. I rope them back in.

"Mr. Garcia." They all stop talking. "Plot a two gee course back to Gamma Omicron One. Plan on 0700 wheels up. Mr. Summerlin, your choice, ride or swim, let Commander Perez know. Mr. McAdams, get with the Marines and give me a threat assessment on what a hit from a 42 inch would do to Yorktown . Then update the investigation plan for Trump and pad it to me.

And, folks, we all need to be thinking about how to find Bainbridge , and the bastards that did that." I nod my head toward the screen at the last. Then I give them a facial gesture and a quick point toward the door. They get the hint.

I stop Emily from leaving.

"Where are we on propulsion?" If we're going toe to toe with a 200,000 ton warship packing the biggest guns I have ever heard of, I'd like to be able to do better than two gees acceleration.

Then I notice there are bags under her eyes, stains on her uniform. Probably didn't need to ask the question if I had looked first. She scratches her head before answering.

"Nowhere yet, Skipper. Engines one and three at 100 percent. Our first two tries at constructing workarounds for two and four were no go. That pump is the critical piece in the assembly, and no redundancy either. I have a bunch of ideas for the folks back at Electric Boat. The 3D printer is spitting out our third attempt as we speak, we'll be testing tomorrow."

"Understood. And get some sleep, lieutenant, that's an order. I don't need zombies trying to repair that equipment."

She