Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,15

too steep! Reverse thrusters, now!” I commanded, and smashed the buttons.

With a jolt, we were both slammed back into our seats.

But with the ship’s systems so crippled, I couldn’t tell if it would be enough.

“Impact coming in, three, two…”

And we hit.

Yasmin’s yells melded with the screech of metal as the ship slid on its belly across the desert floor.

“Why aren’t we stopping?” she shouted.

“Physics!” I answered back

I couldn’t think of a better answer. There was one, I was certain of that, but at the moment, I was far too worried about the cliffside we were racing towards.

“I don’t think we’re going to stop in time,” Yasmine cried.

She was right.

“Keep your helmet on,” I yelled, triggering my own, then I hit the button to eject the canopy.

It ripped away from the body of the ship with a tremendous whoosh.

We were slowing, but still not enough.

And the cliff wall was growing bigger every second.

“Stand up, babe,” I said, and pulled her tight to my chest, pressing my helmet to hers to make sure she could hear me. “Just hang on, and it will be over in a minute.”

“That sounds disturbingly final.”

If I didn’t do this right, it could be.

I waited, watching as we slid closer and closer to the cliff.

Still faster than I would’ve preferred. I’d be able to take the brunt of the fall, but she’d still be jolted.

But there wasn’t any choice anymore.

“Time to go!”

Wrapping her tightly in my arms, I sprang from the edge of the cabin, at a sharp angle from the careening ship.

With a thud, my shoulder hit the hard packed desert floor and we rolled over and over, until we were well clear of the ship’s path.

As soon as we stopped rolling, I propped up on one elbow, triggering her helmet release and catching at mine.

Her eyes were wide.

“Let’s not do that again.”

“If you insist,” I shrugged. “Not really on my list of top ten experiences to revisit.”

She rolled over and we both stared at her ship.

The nose had crumpled into the cliffside almost all the way back to the cabin.

“We might’ve survived,” she said slowly. “Maybe.”

“Pretty sure my legs would be broken by now,” I said, heaving myself up from the desert floor and reaching down to help her up.

“That would be hard to deal with, I suppose,” she said. “I’m a terrible doctor.”

“That’s alright. I’m a terrible patient.”

Slowly we walked, or rather limped a bit, to better examine the damage to the ship.

My jacket was shredded, and my pants weren’t in much better shape, but the environmental suit had done a better job keeping Yasmin safe.

“Where are we, anyway?” she asked.

“You’re not-very-helpful ship’s AI identified this as Sat 9.”

She looked at me blankly.

“It’s one of the moons of the gas giant,” I added.

She stopped cold. “That’s a completely uninhabited moon. I wasn’t even sure there was an atmosphere there. Here. Whatever. Who’s going to be able to find us?”

“Well, most important question first,” I said, continuing my slow, sore way towards the wreckage. “Obviously, there’s atmosphere. It’s a little thin on oxygen, but not dangerously so.”

She hurried to catch up. “Alright, we can work with that. There’s got to be enough left of the ship that we can get a message off to,” she glanced at me, looked guilty. “To someone.”

More secrets.

“That seems likely, especially considering how thin the atmosphere is. We shouldn’t get much interference.”

I placed a casual hand on her arm, turning her slightly towards me. “But it might be helpful if I knew who exactly we were signaling.”

I tried to keep my voice level, even. But obviously I’d stumbled into some sort of complicated game. And not only did I not know the rules, I didn’t even know the players.

She bit her lower lip, large worried eyes searching my face

“Could we start with you telling me more about where you’re from?” she finally said. “Maybe while we’re checking my poor ship for anything that survived you ramming it into a cliff?”

Not exactly what I’d hoped for. But maybe trust had to go both ways.

I continued walking. “An information trade, that seems reasonable enough. For now, let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

When we reached the ship, I realized it wasn’t quite as bad as it looked.

It was still pretty bad, though.

“This is never going to fly again,” she said mournfully.

“Seems unlikely,” I said. “Tell me there are emergency supplies, a replicator hidden somewhere, anything useful?”

“It’s a stealth ship,” she snapped. “Not a luxury cruiser.”

She hoisted herself up into the cabin