I was faster.
The light stick cast weird shadows on the wall as I ran, but I could see and that was all that mattered. The video drone followed me. I swiped at it but missed and nearly lost my footing. I decided one problem at a time was all I could handle, and right now, distance was my friend.
Footsteps pounded behind me, closer than I would’ve liked. I darted left at the next hall and hoped Loch hadn’t left yet. With a long straightaway in front of me, I sprinted.
I might not be infinitely capable, but I could run. It was a skill that came in handy more than once over the last two years. I’d chased down thieves and outrun mobs, and, in one memorable case, did both at the same time. I’d also had a few close calls with House von Hasenberg security where literal running was the only way to escape.
And nothing motivated quite like imminent capture or death.
The video drone paced me, but the footsteps fell farther and farther behind. Running blindly when there could be more soldiers lurking ahead wasn’t ideal, but I was out of options. I had to get to that ship.
I turned left and ran down the short hall that would take me back to the main hallway. A right and another thirty meters or so and I’d be there. Please let the ship be there.
I glanced left as I turned right into the main hallway to see if the soldiers’ backup had arrived yet. My body found what my peripheral vision had not—I slammed into a wall of muscle that barely gave under the impact. An arm clamped around my waist to prevent me from rebounding to the floor, and a blast pistol went off behind my head.
The video drone exploded in a shower of sparks.
Loch had already pulled me back into a run by the time my brain caught up with the fact that he hadn’t left. And he was wearing clothes. He looked so much like a merc that it took me a second glance to process that it was really him.
When he pulled me into the port leading to the ship, I resisted. “We need to open the doors. The manual overrides are out here,” I said, trying to pull back. It would be easier to move the moon.
“No time. We’ll blast them,” he said. The doors that enclosed the bay were wired with explosives that could be activated from the escape ship. But that was truly the last resort because it failed as often as it worked.
When Loch didn’t stop to close the port door, I dug in my feet. “The door!”
“No time,” he snarled.
I shook myself loose. “I’m making time. I won’t be responsible for depressurizing half the ship. You go on.”
He left me.
I cursed him silently while I pulled the heavy door closed. If we blasted the outer bay doors with this door still open, every unanchored person in the cargo bay would be ejected into space. And with the ship’s power partially down, I wasn’t sure the safety doors would close to protect the rest of the ship.
While I had no love for the Rockhurst soldiers, they were just obeying orders. The mercs could go to hell, but it would be nice if Captain Pearson’s family could recover his ship in one piece.
I turned and ran for the escape ship. Loch was already closing the door, the bastard. I slid through the narrow opening and kept going. Once I made it to the bridge I realized the ship was already powered up and ready to fly.
Loch shouldered past me and took the captain’s chair. Of course he did. His hands flew over the console with obvious skill, though, so I held my comments. Mostly.
“Stop grumbling and strap in,” he said without looking up.
I dropped into the navigator’s chair and clipped in. A quick look showed that we already had a destination plotted. Before I could check the stats, the outer doors blew and Loch cursed. I looked up from my console and saw that only one of the doors had blown. While the depressurization had slightly opened the other, it was going to be a tight squeeze.
Warnings started blaring as Loch’s hands raced. He unclipped from his seat and moved to the rarely used manual controls.
“What are you doing?” I asked, alarmed.
“Computer won’t take us out,” he said. “Going to have to do it manually.”
I swallowed. I knew how to fly a ship manually—all