The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,97
want.”
“Nobody said you had to!” Dusty snapped, sounding even more frustrated than Denver. “What part of ‘it’s only a suggestion’ do you not understand? Any one of us can deboard in order to supervise Denver and Laramie. But there’s no reason to jeopardize the lives of everybody else on board!”
“I’m only saying—”
“I know what you’re saying, and I’m sick of listening to it. We have less than five hours, and rather than getting on board the Legacy, we’re arguing with you again over something so inconsequential!”
“Dusty’s right,” Mona Houck snapped. “Captain Zahn, I’m beginning to wonder who you’re really working for here. If we’re captured and end up in a Martian prison, it’ll be because we lost valuable time trying to soothe your ego.” Denver almost laughed at the look on Zahn’s face. For an escapist, being accused of Mars complicity was apparently a horrendous insult. “Stay on your ship or not,” Houck went on. “None of us give a rat’s ass. But the rest of us are done talking about it.” Several of the captains voiced their agreement as Houck turned her eyes to Marit. “I’ll await your instructions.”
With that, her portion of the screen went black. Several of other captains grinned as they killed their feeds. Zahn looked angrier than ever, but Denver only smiled as if the matter was settled.
“Glad we could sort that out. See you shortly.” He killed the feed and sat back in his chair with a groan. “Thank god that’s over.”
“What a bunch of ungrateful assholes.”
Denver shook his head. “Not a bunch. It’s mostly just the one.”
“And Tonlet.”
Denver laughed. “And Tonlet. Assuming Laramie hasn’t killed him already.”
“You couldn’t be that lucky.”
Denver laughed. She had a point. “Laramie,” he said to the walls. “Can you hear me? Have you found anything useful?”
Although his tone seemed unsure.
“You think?” Denver said. “You’re not sure?”
“Does it look like we can fly it from there?”
“Okay. Let me know if you find anything.”
“Put on a space suit and maneuver a quadrant comber into a space barely big enough to hold it.”
With the right equipment and almost a dozen decent spacewalkers pulling and prodding at the unwieldy ship, getting it into the dock didn’t end up being as bad as Denver thought it might be. They had to pause more than once to rearrange the ships that were already inside, though, and while nobody was injured in the process, it did take two hours longer to get done than he’d hoped. By the time it was finally seated and the airlock resealed, Denver was almost grateful to hear Laramie’s voice echo through his head like it was on speaker.
“On my way.”
But first, he stopped at the Jiminy to lose the bulky space suit. He found Marit right where he’d left her—in the cockpit, with her feet on the dash.
“How much time?” he asked her.
“Less than two hours.”
“Jesus.”
He should get moving. Find Laramie and figure out how to get their asses out of harm’s way. But now that the time had come, he was reluctant to leave the Jiminy. It’d been his home for twelve years now. It had been a symbol of safety. A place where he and Laramie could be themselves. And for the last four years, Marit had been a part of that. She’d been their one and only friend.
Now…
He’d walk out of the Jiminy. Find his brother and the Legacy’s bridge. Hope like hell they could figure out how to operate the Li’Vin ship. But if things went bad, he may never see Marit again. It was possible his recklessness would land her in a Martian prison.
Or worse.
He sat down in the seat next to her and leaned forward to take her hand. “Marit—”
“Don’t,” she said, dropping her feet to the floor. “Don’t you dare act like we’re saying goodbye. You and Laramie are two of the smartest dumbasses I’ve ever met. If anybody can get us out of here, it’s you.” She squeezed his hand. “So stop stalling and go figure out how to fly this goddamn ship. Because I’ve kind of gotten used to the idea of seeing an actual sky someday soon.”