Free Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer) by Chris Hechtl

shaking his head. The steward shot him a look and then nodded reluctantly.
    “You're
kidding!” Willis said in dismay, wide eyed.
    “No.
Oh we've got fresh food for the first couple of weeks, but that's supposed to
be used sparingly. We didn't take on the food we normally would have because we
thought that the replicators would take up the slack. We're supposed to recycle
as much food as possible.”
    “Of
course,” she nodded. “All ships and space colonies do.”
    “Destiny
has small green house compartments, and everyone is encouraged to grow food
plants in their rooms or other compartments. But that doesn't make up for the
difference. Not by a long shot,” Irons said.
    “Well
it's kind of hard to do when we don't have a greenhouse or food replicators. Or
didn't until the Admiral here intervened,” Bailey said motioning to the
Admiral. Which was true, Irons reflected. They didn't have the greenhouses
online yet. He wondered if the seeds were even there? Or the equipment? He'd
have to pass it on to the chief to check.
    “Thank
you again for that,” Willis said smiling.
    “How
could we have been forced to use the E-rats. Those are for emergencies right?”
Clarke asked, looking from one to the other.
    “Exactly.
Which it would have been. We've got a bigger crew and passenger manifest than
normal,” the purser replied. He shot a glance at Bailey and then to the
Admiral. He shook his head. “More people means more drain on food, power and
resources.”
    “Life
support isn't your problem. We've got that covered,” Bailey replied pretending
to buff his fingernails.
    “And
the power as well,” Irons said nodding.
    “Yes,
but the replicators and recycling are your responsibility,” the purser replied,
giving a triumphant smirk to the captain.
    “As
I see it, it was yours,” Bailey replied. The purser turned with a curious look.
“They were logged as cargo and stores after all. Your domain right?” Suddenly
the purser looked distinctly uncomfortable.
    The
simian's eyes gleamed. Irons turned to the purser, raising an eyebrow as well.
He picked up a cup of coffee with the ship's crest on it and took a sip.
    The
captain nodded, clearly interested in this line of discussion. “Yes. He is
correct. And you did sign off on them without checking,” he said. There was
enough reproof in his tone to make even the Admiral wince and straighten.
    “I
can't check every crate. To do so would hold up the schedule,” the purser
replied with a snarl hands on the edge of the table. “Captain honestly...”
    “What?
You are telling me your people couldn't have checked even one crate? A random
sampling?” Willis asked in disbelief. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was
pouting a little.
    “She's
right you know,” Bryan the medic replied looking from Willis to the purser.
    “You
stay out of this, if we want your opinion we will ask for it,” the purser
growled. “Jumped up, wet behind the ears wanna be nurse,” he muttered.
    “What
was that?” the medic snarled, tossing his napkin onto his plate and starting to
rise.
    “Easy
there,” Irons said, hand on his arm. He gently pushed the young man back into
his seat. “As someone pointed out, civility is severely lacking in some
people.”
    “Obviously,”
the medic said shooting dagger looks toward the purser.
    “So
the problem has been remedied?” the captain asked, toying with his glass as he
changed the subject.
    “Yes.
My people are installing them now. We'll have the last deck done by the end of
next shift I think. There is nothing we can do about the missing stuff like the
vid screens though.”
    “So
we need not concern ourselves about it anymore.”
    “Well,
there is a point. I wish I had been notified about the short supplies. You as
well captain of course,” the security chief said giving the captain a look. “We
needed to know to prepare ourselves and our people.”
    “For
what?” the purser asked wrinkling his nose. “What else can there