Motherload

A remote corner of a bleak system... A broken-down gunboat, stuck in space... An incompetent captain and a misfit crew... A pirate ship, a silent target, and a whole bunch of secrets... So how's YOUR day going?," I translated for myself. She just grunted, and turned back to the bank. After a moment, she said, "If we cut the dead units out of the system, we'll probably gain a few kilowatt hours from the resistance we'll save. That's better than nothing." "That doesn't solve the problem, Sal." "I know what the fornicating problem is, Ejoq! Don't ride me like some low-rent Bayern, all right? I need your help in this, and right now you can help me most of all by shutting up. I have to think..." She went to her desk and began to check some numbers, adding and subtracting on a calculator program to one side of the screen, while she studied a schematic of the power plant. She mumbled, swore to herself, and even punched the flat screen at one point and spat, "Oh, you son-of-a-mutt!" I went and got coffee for us both, but she let hers get cold by her elbow as she worked. Finally, after nearly an hour of concentration she turned back, a little calmer than before. "Okay, here's what we do...