"Although this route is relatively deserted, pirates could appear at any time."
A ship at anchor, quietly parked in this uninhabited place, was practically shouting "come rob me."
Of course, they had elite guards, and theoretically this ship was an empty vessel returning from a voyage, so pirates generally wouldn't bother with it.
But who said pirates were proper pirates anyway? Who knew if those people might still find their way here.
"Give me a moment."
The earlier explosion was likely from an energy transmission pipeline rupture, but the howling sound suggested metal fatigue. At this rate, it wouldn't hold much longer and would likely continue tearing, let alone restart the engine.
Fred speculated that the tearing was caused by the ship pushing to its maximum speed through uninhabited areas during its journey.
This engine produced 30% more power than the standard engines installed on this type of transport ship.
Although reinforcement measures had been taken and computer simulations had been conducted, unexpected problems had clearly still emerged.
If he substituted all these new variables for the laboratory data and calculated everything...
Fred thought while his fingers moved rapidly across his personal terminal.
Deducing the process from the result was simpler than direct calculation.
Thrust data, hull geometry parameters, material strength, sectional fracture toughness, plus the current observational data...
Fred's mind worked at lightning speed.
His understanding of the engine and hull structure gradually integrated and computed.
"I understand, it should be repairable."
"...Understand?"
Watching Fred actually calculating and thinking, Andrew was dumbfounded, having expected to wait much longer.
What? How could it be repairable just like that?
Was he some kind of ship's technical engineer?
No way, he's just a student, right?
Hearing their conversation, the surrounding crew members who had been tense due to the accident all widened their eyes in disbelief.
What was this? It could just be repaired like that?
They were elites and couldn't figure it out.
Was he just showing off? After all, he was a Natural - even if skilled, could he really be that capable?
Of course, they didn't know that Fred's confidence came from his deeper understanding of engines compared to most crew members.
Thoroughly understanding engines and being able to repair them were inherently strongly correlated.
Plus, he already possessed knowledge in engine systems at the director level - meaning Lenore's level - making it naturally simpler and easier for him.
Though only thirteen years old, Fred's current capabilities were indeed sufficient to serve as a ship's engineer without any issues.
Unlike others who remained shocked, Andrew only pondered briefly before quickly following up.
"Can you operate our work pod?"
Fred was different from others - he wouldn't speak without certainty, and in this regard, Andrew trusted him.
"Second time, but yes!"
Why once before? Because he had tested whether his experience in the Mistral would translate to PLANT's cockpit.
He had specifically borrowed one from PLANT merchants who came trading.
The results were naturally encouraging.
Mobile Armor piloting experience was transferable, and the sensations during operation weren't significantly different, though the control panel required re-familiarization.
To use an imperfect analogy, it's like being able to drive a Toyota manual transmission car - you wouldn't suddenly become unable to drive just because you switched to another brand.
It's just a matter of getting familiar with different controls.
In other words, his MS piloting experience should be transferable to all MS models, which was the main reason he pursued the GINN.
Getting ahead early meant staying ahead throughout.
If he waited until the Strike Suit appeared to start learning how to pilot, it would be too late.
Fortunately, this situation also presented an opportunity.
By demonstrating more relevant value beyond just agriculture in Patrick and Clyne's eyes, he could gain faster access to MS development.
Learning more advanced knowledge might even allow him to legitimately become one of the first pilots.
This time would serve as preparation for the future.
Of course, he knew there was still a long way to go before he could participate in research.
"Alright, go ahead."
Seeing that the situation showed no signs of improvement and the engine couldn't be started for now, Andrew nodded.
"Captain... I remember Fred studies agriculture, right?"
After the communication was cut off, someone on the Bridge finally couldn't help but speak up.
A farmer going to repair the engine? Did that make sense?
Even if he could push the Drake-class back, that didn't mean he could fix that new model engine.
"Yes, he studies agriculture."
Andrew simply nodded without offering any explanation.
In reality, as an elite soldier, Andrew had thought more deeply than anyone present about why Fred's crucial handcrafted rocket that destroyed the Drake-class had hit its mark.
Perhaps it was because of his understanding of engines.
Fred's miraculous shot might not have been a miracle at all.
It might have been the inevitable result of precise calculations involving engine thrust, spacecraft geometry, and projectile mass.
Combined with his request for the engine design schematics and his current confidence,
these comprehensive considerations were why Andrew was willing to entrust his life to him.
Under Andrew's analysis and silence,
the crew on the Bridge exchanged glances, speechless.
Meanwhile, Fred didn't head to the hangar first but went to his family's room next door.
It was a single room - the conditions weren't great but not terrible either.
To be precise, it resembled a chain hotel's single room.
Fred quickly explained the accident to his anxious parents and younger sister.
"Thank goodness..."
George breathed a sigh of relief, but Heather frowned deeply.
"But breaking down here is really troublesome."
"I'll fix it."
Fred's words silenced the entire room.
"You know how to repair it...?"
Heather couldn't help but raise her eyebrows.
"Yes, don't you remember I studied it, Mom?"
"...You mean what you watched when you were three?"
"Exactly that."
Heather's mouth twitched at his response.
She had thought her son was just looking at the pictures to pass time when he was bored.
Now he was telling her he actually learned aerospace engine dynamics from what he watched at three years old?
Was that even human?
Even precocious three-year-olds would at most learn some basics and recognize words.
"I've been continuing my studies in my spare time. Leave it to me."
Although his words lacked any basis, facing Fred's serious expression, Heather was ultimately convinced.
"Be careful."
Interrupting George who wanted to say something more, Heather spoke.
"Come back safely, brother..."
Flay, who still didn't quite understand why they had to go to PLANT, raised her small hand and gave Fred an adorable cheer.
"I'll be back soon."
Fred smiled, and after reassuring his family, he headed straight for the hangar without further delay.
The hangar was sparsely populated at the moment.
After all, only trusted confidants were aware of this mission. The Zodiac Alliance's influence was far from reaching its future scale, so the team had been reduced to just three members. As for support staff, there were only three as well.
However, under normal circumstances, maintaining the Work Pods was straightforward—one person per unit was indeed sufficient.
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