“What is our status?” I say, sliding into my station.
“One of the cruisers has sustained critical damage from the Hadfield debris field,” Zila reports. “Ten fighters and the second cruiser still in pursuit.”
“They’re sending an SOS,” Finian reports. “Our ship ident and vid footage.”
“They think we’re pirates!” Tyler shouts, leaning hard on his controls as we weave through the surrounding convoy. “Can you jam their transmission?”
Fin shakes his head. “They sent it before I got aboard. I’m not a miracle worker, Goldenboy!”
“Anyone who was monitoring us when we blasted out of Emerald City is going to know we’re on this ship!” Scarlett yells over the alarms. “TDF. GIA. Our fellow legionnaires. Bounty hunters. This sector is going to be hotter than my unmentionables when the navy hits town!”
“Thank you, Scarlett, I don’t need a status report on your underwear right now!” Tyler roars.
“I mean, I could hear a little more?” Fin says.
Aurora’s uniglass beeps in her pocket. “THE FIRST RECORD OF HUMAN UNDERGARMENTS WAS THE LOINCLOTH, A SIMPLE GARMENT COMMONLY WORN IN—”
“Silent mode!” Tyler shouts.
Tracer fire rips through the dark around us. I let loose a burst from our rear railguns and am rewarded with a flare of bright fire and a soundless explosion. The fighters return fire, but the Zero’s flakscreen and interceptors are state of the art, and we are still ahead of the pack for now. Tyler is not the ace that Zero was, but he is still an impressive pilot, sending us soaring over the vast gunmetal expanses of the derelicts around us, weaving between the broken ships like a dancer.
“Undies aside,” Scarlett says, “I’d like to keep my ass in my pants if at all possible. We should get out of here before real trouble arrives.”
“We still need the black box,” I point out. “If we retreat now, we will not have another chance to approach the convoy.”
“We do not know where the black box is,” Zila points out.
“Like I said, they probably just stowed it on the lead tug,” Finian says.
“Well, bad news, they’re not slowing down for us to stop and check!” Tyler shouts. “And we don’t have long till these goons aren’t the only ones shooting at us!”
Alarms scream as a volley of missiles bursts below us, carving black swaths across a derelict’s skin. My pulse is pounding, electricity crackling at my fingertips, a fierce and burning elation welling within me—both at the memory of Aurora’s kiss and at the thrill of battle around me.
I feel invincible.
Unbreakable.
“I can retrieve it,” I hear myself say.
Scarlett blinks at me, flame-red hair framing disbelieving eyes. “Are you high?”
“Kal … ,” Aurora says.
I am looking at my Alpha, still bent over his controls.
“We need that data, sir,” I tell him. “If we miss our chance here, the convoy will be doubly guarded. And in less than twenty-four hours, they will have docked. This is our moment. Get me close to that lead tug. I will do the rest.”
Tyler tears his eyes off his displays, meeting mine.
“Believe, Brother,” I say.
He clenches his jaw, but nods.
“I’ll get us close as I can.”
I am on my feet already, my blood alight. I am retrieving a disruptor rifle and a blister of thermex charges from the weapons locker when Fin pushes himself upright with a sigh.
“Where are you going?” Scarlett asks.
“With him.”
“Seriously, is there a CO2 leak in here or something?” she says, looking between us. “Or did we all come down with a case of boneheaded heroics when I wasn’t looking?”
“I’m the Gearhead in this squad.” Fin shrugs, checks his suit integrity. “Pixieboy wouldn’t know a black box if it fell out of the sky, landed on his face, and started to wiggle.”
She scowls. “I presume they’re black? And, I dunno, box-shaped?”
“Well, excuuuuse me, Miss Scarcasm,” he says, eyebrow rising, “but they’re orange, not black. Makes them easier to locate and recover in a crash situation. Besides, I’m already suited up. And we don’t have time to argue.”
I toss another disruptor rifle across the bridge, and with a swift whine of his newly repaired exosuit, Finian catches it. Scarlett throws her hands up in resignation. Zila is crouched beside Aurora, checking her vitals, wiping the dried blood off her lips. I meet my be’shmai’s eyes and I can see fear in her stare. I can see fire. I can see the memory of our kiss, and the promise behind it, and the thought of