‘Guns stalled while boarded. Hail ignored. Uploading current scans now.’
Gunner dropped the connection between their ships without turning back, and stormed out and into the hallways of theBlessed. Nickel was on his heels with a barrage of questions.
The upload couldn’t come fast enough.
‘Four ships, heavily armed and targeted on us. More are entering our airspace, sir. They have yet to accept our hail. Should we undock?’
‘Yes!’he yelled in his head, his feet picking up, his body pushing forward into a sprint. The dock was already disengaging when he turned the corner, the doors shutting.
“Gunner! What’s wrong!?” Nickel screamed somewhere far behind him. Gunner was several yards from the exit.
I’m going to make it.He was bored, but notthatbored.
But he felt the missile before it hit his ship. He felt the power and the impact as it struck the side of the docking bay, blasting his chances of ever making it back aboard his ship alive into oblivion. The metal crushed and groaned, caving inward then outward, knocking him off his feet and slamming him into the rusted, ancient, used-up side paneling of theBlessed.
A roaring filled his ears, his head, and consumed his mainframe with a surge. It was enough to make him stand, if only for a moment, before he short-circuited on the spot. His face hit the ground and his eyes flashed once more before that faded too. He reached out, fingers twitching, grasping for something just out of reach.
‘Browning,’his whispered as rage built inside him.
‘What can I do for you?’her message flitted behind his eyes.
‘Break. Break all the guns...’
Their dying programming was the last thing he sensed before he rebooted, and the smell of gasoline replaced the hops.
Chapter Three
***
ELODIE’S EYES DRIFTEDopen to find the cell she faced empty and yawning and the rest cycle lights still down in a dreary dim. She remained unmoving as her senses came back one by one, starting with the worst; hunger, pain, her emotional state.
He’s gone.
At least he’s not dead. At least I didn’t see him die.Her heart thumped.
Her eyes stared through the empty space and double row of bars to land on the man on the other side of her dad’s cell. He was facing away from her, his back to the bars. He was a gristly sort of fellow, and neither she nor her dad ever liked conversing with him. Elodie couldn’t recall his name. She pretended that he was her dad, just for a few minutes, as she mustered the courage to rise.
