gremps are clinging to the sides. I’m not sure how she managed it so quick, but Tannigut has called in reinforcements, and they look like Business.
The ramp is crowded with loaders and heavy skiffs, and Scar cracks off a dozen wild shots, emptying her disruptor’s power pack and hitting a few random targets. But she cries out in triumph as her final blast clips a gremp in the shoulder, sending the gangster tumbling onto the roadway.
“I got one!”
Scar tightens her grip on my waist, shaking me frantically.
“Did! You! See that? I—”
I set my disruptor to Kill and offload into the belly of a bulky waste hauler cruising in the lane directly above us. The blast blows out its stabilizers, sends it dropping in a cloud of smoke. I swerve aside as the drone crashes into our lane, flipping end over end, spraying a few tons of recyclables all over the ramp behind us. Horns blare, air brakes fire, and the gremp’s hovercruiser plows right into the crashed drone, sending its occupants flying in a hail of smoking fur and curse words.
The whole posse, taken out by a single shot.
I blow on the barrel of my disruptor. Smile over my shoulder as I slip it back into my holster.
“You know,” Scarlett pouts, “nobody likes a show-off, Bee-bro.”
“I hate it when you call me that,” I grin.
We hit the docks, zipping through foot traffic, auto-packers, flatbeds loaded with cargo. The spaceport of Emerald City is laid out before us, all glittering lights and buzzing skies and sleek ships at berth. I can see our Longbow dead ahead, at rest between a massive Betraskan longhauler and a brand-new Rigellian pleasure cruiser from the Talmarr shipyards.
Fin’s standing at the bottom of the loading ramp, surveying the docks with a worried expression. His bone-white skin is bright beneath the Longbow lights, his pale hair styled into short spikes. His slim-cut civi clothes are dark against the gleaming silver exosuit enshrouding his limbs and back.
He spots us, waves frantically.
“I see you, Goldenboy. Move that spank cushion, we gotta—”
“THIS IS A SECURITY ALERT,” blare the dockside loudspeakers. “ALL CRAFT CURRENTLY IN EMERALD CITY DOCKS ARE ON LOCKDOWN UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. REPEAT: THIS IS A SECURITY ALERT… .”
“You think that’s for us?” Scarlett shouts in my ear.
I glance into the skies above, spot a security drone amid the swarm of loaders and lifters.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “That’s for us.”
The floor below us shudders, and massive docking clamps begin rising up from the spaceport decks ahead. They cinch around the ships at berth, eliciting a spew of profanity from the crew members and workers all around us. I lay on the juice, desperately trying to get us home, but we skid to a halt near Fin just as the dock machinery locks our Longbow in place.
Scar jumps off the skiff. As the alert continues to blare around us, I toss the damp blond from my eyes, surveying the clamps with hands on hips. Reinforced titanium, slick with grease, electromagnetic. And they’re huge.
“No way we’ve got the thrust to blast free of those,” I say.
Fin shakes his head. “They’ll tear the hull to pieces.”
“Can you hack the system?” I ask. “Unlock us?”
My Gearhead already has his uniglass out, the device lighting up with a dozen tiny holographic displays as he begins typing. “Gimme five minutes.”
“I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Scar says. “But we don’t have five minutes.”
I look to where my twin is pointing, heart sinking as I spot two armored hoverskiffs speeding across the docks. Their flashing lights and blaring alarms send the crowds scattering out of the way, and they’re cutting a line straight toward us.
In the flatbed trays behind the control cabins I can see two dozen heavy Security Bots armed with disruptor cannons. Emblazoned across the truck hoods, the breastplates of the SecBots, are the words EMERALD CITY SECURITY.
“So,” Scarlett says, looking at me. “Any more amazing ideas?”
2
AURI
We’re already on our feet when Fin comes charging up the ramp, limping heavily.
“Grab your gear,” he barks. “We’re bailing.”
Tyler and Scarlett are right on his heels, running for their bunks and lockers.
“Twenty seconds!” hollers our squad leader as he passes Kal and me. “Twenty seconds, out the door!”
I don’t own anything except my uniglass, Magellan—who’s stuffed in my pocket as always—and the clothes I’m wearing. So I hustle to where Fin’s frantically packing away the tool kit he and Zila were using to repair his suit.
“Go,” I tell him. “Get your stuff. I can pack this.”