Too slow. The doors were closing faster than the systems were warming.
Brevan reached the speeder. Climbed in. “Can you fly this?”
“I’ve been practicing.”
The doors were halfway closed now.
I punched the throttle, skipping the pre-flight alignment.
The speeder shot forward. Not smooth. Not controlled. We lurched sideways before I corrected. The hangar spun. My stomach dropped.
“Straight!” Brevan grabbed the copilot controls. Helped me stabilize.
The blast doors were closing. The gap narrowing with each second.
Ten meters to the exit.
The gap was barely wide enough.
Five meters.
I could see daylight beyond. Sky. Freedom.
The doors were almost shut.
Three meters.
“We’re not going to make it,” I said.
“Yes we are.”
I pushed the throttle to maximum.
The speeder accelerated. G-forces pressing me into the seat. The gap was too narrow. We were going to hit.
Two meters.
The speeder’s hull scraped against the blast doors. Metal screaming. Sparks flying. Warning lights flashing across every console.
One meter.
We punched through.
Daylight. Open air. The villa falling away beneath us.
I pulled up hard. The speeder climbed. My hands shaking on the controls but holding steady.
Behind us, the hangar doors sealed shut. Too late.
Flinx’s eyes glowed warning red.
The comm crackled. Tarsus’s voice. Cold. Absolute. “You think you’ve escaped? You think you’ve won? I own this villa. Every guard. Every patrol. Every ship.” His voice dropped to something darker. “I will hunt you. And when I catch you, I will make you watch while I dissect that Vinduthi piece by piece.”
I looked at Brevan. His expression was grim. The Regalia was secure in his jacket.
“He’s coming,” I said.
“Let him.”
