“Yep. Ultraxian. An old model judging by the blast,” he said, pointing to the few scorch areas on the hull. “Our shielding was able to absorb most of the energy, but some systems were affected.”
“How the hell did it not show on our warning systems? That isyourdepartment, Rykker.”
“It is, but this was camouflaged with organic matter. See?” He pointed to small bits of gore streaking the impact site. “Dead air creatures strapped to the mine. It was small enough that it registered as an organic object. Clever, I’ll give them that. And judging by the age of the munition, likely not actually Ultraxians using it. My guess is some other faction set it afloat in hopes they might get lucky and down something of value. Good thing for us that Maldonian ships are all well shielded. A lesser craft would have been greatly damaged.”
Olivia stepped closer, looking at the scorched area. She could have been killed. Yes, that was a daily fact of life aboard the Raxxian ship, but this somehow felt different. More tangible in its immediate violence. She leaned over, bracing herself on her knees and breathing hard so as not to vomit.
A warm hand rested gently on her back. “Are you injured?” Arkness inquired, a hint of worry in his tone.
She shook her head, standing up straight and shaking it off. “I’ll be okay. Just a little shaken up is all. How’s the ship? How bad was it damaged?”
Arkness looked at his rival. “Well? You’re the technician,” he asked impatiently.
Rykker shot him an annoyed glare. “And we only just landed. Quite hard, I might add, thanks to your piloting.”
“I did what needed to be done.”
“And so will I. Now back off and give me a moment to assess the damage.”
Olivia could almost feel the tension between the men crackle in the air. Fortunately, Arkness backed off, if only to go quickly scout the immediate area around them.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay alert,” he said, darting off into the trees while Rykker popped open seamless panels, testing the internal workings of the craft.
Olivia looked around with clearer eyes now that the panic was subsiding. Arkness had somehow landed them in a small clearing in what seemed to be an otherwise dense forest. The rocks at her feet explained that aspect of the landing site. Geology had provided them a small but adequate safe haven to land. The question now was where were they, who was out there, and how badly was the ship damaged? All were questions she could not answer.
Out of the frying pan, she mused, taking a seat on the burgundy grass. It was all she could do for now. Sit, hope, and wait. She just hoped it would not be for long.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Arkness was quick in his perimeter search, returning in just minutes, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his brow from the speedy effort.
“All clear,” he announced. “No signs of anyone in the immediate area.
Rykker nodded, his eyes remaining on his task. “It looks like we came down far from any recorded encampments, so the ship should be safe here.”
“We can hope.”
“I am confident. I also reviewed our last aerial imaging scans and pieced together a rough map of what seem to be the crashed sections of the Raxxian ship.”
Olivia’s ears perked up. “Wait, did you say sections, plural?”
Rykker paused his work, turning to the human. “Yes. There are several that came down in this area, though a few were discernably unsurvivable. You are aware that Raxxian transport ships are designed to protect their livestock, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Then you understand their protocols for preserving as much of their captured livestock as possible in the event of acatastrophic failure of their ship. Or, in this case, an attack, as is clear from the residual blast energy I detected. Now, if you look at this map, can you tell me which section was the one you left your friend in?”
The image hovered in the air in front of her, showing several downed Raxxian compartments.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t looking from above, and all of these seem pretty close to streams, so I can’t really say which it might be. But hang on a minute. You guys are all high tech. Can’t you just scan them for life signs?”
Arkness and Rykker chuckled, a rare, shared moment of amusement.
“What?” Olivia asked with a sour tone. The men’s amusement ceased immediately.
“Apologies,” Arkness replied. “It is just that Raxxians are well known for two things—eating anything that is not Raxxian, and building their containment units out of Blandonium.”
“Blandonium? What the hell kind of word is that?”
