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</div>Brigitte had run her scanning of the ship. Nine hours of doing nothing can be more stressful on a ship than people realize. Batteries for example, have the risk of running dry when not sufficiently charged with solar energy, moving parts which were still lubricated could dry out and a whole host of more simple and menial tasks. With the ship stationary, the crew tends to get a little bored, meaning they will use certain things differently. When on a mission, chairs and screens and displays are used purposefully, when used for entertainment, not so much. So over the last day Bri had to screw some bolts into swiveling chairs that really weren’t meant to swivel but were made to swivel by the absurd power some crew members had but didn’t realize.<br/><br/>She had also ran the diagnostics of the weapon test the ship had done before and had some alarming information about that for the captain of the ship. The new software was fine but the hardware would overheat if more than five missiles were launched within five minutes, which in itself wasn’t a problem because it could be cooled down by opening some valves and exposing the tubes to a quick blast of space void. Or as she liked to call it, the epitome of the square root of Jack shit. Nothing. Space air.<br/><br/>The software was designed in such a way that the moment the sensors sensed overheating, it would shut down the launcher until it was cooled off, which only lasted a split second or something but restarting the launcher meant it had to recalibrate and everything, which might take a minute or two. Which doesn’t sound that bad but in an emergency situation where you need to ‘shoot the damned bastards’, a minute or two can be the difference between life and death.<br/><br/>She had some ideas on how to possibly fix the overheating hardware problem. She wasn’t a systems expert so there was very little she could do about the software. The solution she had in mind though required a spacewalk and her tinkering on the launchers rendering the warranty void and of course running the risk if her botch failed, which was unlikely, they were without launchers, one of them at least, until she found a way to unbotch it.<br/><br/>Bri wasn’t one to storm to the captain with a problem the moment it arose. First she tried to fix it herself or at least come up with a plan as to how to fix it and for this issue, things weren’t any different. She had made a clear schematic on what had to be done for her plan to make the launchers not overheat, which was basically to remove some of the cowling, rewire some pipes and hoses and then replace the cowling with a thinner material, making it less resistant to damage. But that’s what shields were for.<br/><br/>Once on the bridge she got reminded again of the motley crew on board of this vessel and how much she actually missed earth. Or what was left of it.<br/><br/>Something had emerged near them and there was a sense of trepidation and excitement and Bri wondered if now was the right moment to share the launchers fault with the captain. She decided against it and instead waited for the captain to ask for the update, as she always did. Bri sat down and looked at the pretty woman in the green military fatigues whose chair she had recently bolted down to stop it swiveling.<br/><br/>She waited for data to appear, just as everybody else, keeping quiet for now about their weapon issue.