past the inert bodies of what he assumed was the ship’s crew. By the time he reached the ship, the boarding ramp was already fully retracted and the hatch had risen past the halfway point. He took a flying leap at the hatch, caught hold of the upper rim and swung sideways, throwing his right leg up over the edge. Knowing that the hatch on most ships had a safety cutoff feature and would reopen if it encountered any obstruction, he figured he had a few seconds to get inside.
As he’d expected, just as the hatch pressed into his leg, an alarm went off and the hatch began to open. He heaved himself upward and had managed to get everything except his left arm and the left side of his chest inside when the hatch immediately began to close once again.
“Damned bastard overrode the safety controls,” Moe growled.
Now trapped with his left arm hanging outside, he blew out a breath, allowing the pressure to dislocate his ribs. Despite his determination to keep quiet, his attempt to stifle a yelp failed miserably. Then, figuring he might as well make it sound like he was dying, he let out a screech that would’ve done a banshee proud as he slithered through the gap. He dropped to his feet just as the engines began to hum. The hatch sealed shut with a resounding snap.
Shaking off the pain, he took a deep breath to re-expand his chest and drew his pistol. He’d never been aboard a Scorillian vessel before, but he’d been on starships from practically every planet in the known galaxy and the layout was nearly always the same. From the main hatch, the bridge was on the left and the crew quarters and galley were on the right.
Dashing down the corridor, he took what he believed to be the first left turn, only to collide with the rear wall of an alcove that housed a shrine of some sort. This time, he managed to bite back a scream of agony as his shoulder, already weakened from the tussle with the hatch, dislocated.
“Okay,” he panted as he snapped the joint back into place. “So Scorillian ships just have to be different. Great.”
The ship was still going through its warm-up sequence, so he had a little time to explore. Moving silently with his pistol in hand, he came to a place where the passageway widened out to form a large circular area that seemed devoid of any purpose—no controls, no weird Scorillian furniture, no nothing.
This is a Scorillian ship. And they have wings...
He leaned back, staring at the open, cylindrical space above him. The bridge was up there, all right—he could see lights blinking from the control panels—but to get up there, he would need to borrow a pair of wings.
Recalling that the bodies he’d passed hadn’t been Scorillian, he reasoned that there had to be another way up—a ladder or a stairway of some kind. A quick visual sweep of the area proved the ladder theory; a row of discreet tubular rungs was bolted to the wall. Unfortunately, with a bum arm, not only would he have the devil of a time climbing up there, he would be a sitting duck if Pelarus spotted him.
Then again, having overridden the safety controls on the hatch, Pelarus probably didn’t believe anyone could’ve made it aboard. Not in one piece, anyway.
With no other choice, Moe shifted the pistol to his left hand and started up the ladder, praying that Pelarus was too busy trying to launch the ship to notice an intruder.
“Psst!”
Moe spun around, nearly falling from his perch as Nexbit emerged from the shadows of an intersecting corridor.
“I flew in a few seconds behind Pelarus,” he whispered. “Wasn’t sure what to do—without a weapon, I mean.”
Moe pointed upward. “Think you could fly me up there?”
“Unless you think it would be better to climb.”
“Not really.” Moe winced. “I kinda tore up my shoulder getting in here.”
“I could carry you,” Nexbit suggested. “I do a pretty good Herpatronian, you know.”
“No, I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.” He frowned. “Why are you just now showing yourself? I could’ve used your help a few minutes ago.”
“I, um, wasn’t sure you’d made it.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you hear me yell?”
“Um, yeah. I did. I thought you were dead.”
“Well, with any luck, Pelarus thinks so, too.” He climbed down from the ladder. “Okay, let’s see your Herp.” Taking a step back, he surveyed the transformation—broad shoulders, muscular