"Ship's not going to make it," Kret'nor said bluntly. "Port shield generator is compromised. We take many more hits and we'll lose containment."
Zor'go studied the tactical display, his expression unreadable. "How long will it take to repair?"
"Two hours minimum. Longer if we want it properly sealed."
"We don't have two hours," I said. The asteroid field rotation would shift dramatically in that time, closing our exit route. "It's now or never."
"There's another option." Vaxon highlighted a point on the scan. "That hollowed asteroid, approximately forty-seven minutes from our current position. Scans show it's stable, approximately eight hundred meters in diameter. Large enough to hide the shuttle inside. We could make repairs there, then exit when the raider patrol rotates."
Zor'go nodded. "Make it happen. Jalina, you're our navigator until we reach shelter."
The transit to the hollowed asteroid took every bit of skill Kret'nor possessed and every calculation Zor'go and I could generate between us. The route required passing through three more dense clusters, each one a maze of tumbling rocks and split-second decisions.
My voice went hoarse from calling out corrections. My eyes burned from staring at holographic trajectories. My brain felt like it was running at overclock, processing spatial relationships faster than I'd known I was capable of.
But we made it.
The hollowed asteroid was exactly as the scans had promised—a massive rock with a cavity at its center, like nature had scooped out its core and left a perfect hiding place. Kret'nor guided us inside, the entrance barely wide enough forLucky Strike's bulk.
Inside, the cavity was dark except for our running lights. The walls were rough and irregular, scarred with the marks of whatever ancient impact or volcanic activity had created this space. It felt weirdly safe, like crawling into a cave while predators prowled outside.
"Landing on the interior surface," Kret'nor announced. "Engaging magnetic clamps."
The shuttle settled with a gentle thud. Through the viewscreen, I could see the curved interior walls of our temporary sanctuary, the rough stone surface marked with mineral deposits that glittered in our lights.
Zor'go immediately pulled up damage reports. "Engineering team, assess all systems. Priority on shield generators and structural integrity. Security, maintain passive scans for raider movement. Medical, status on survivors?"
"Stable," came the reply from the medical bay. "Dr. Yar'thon has them sedated and is treating injuries. The woman, Maya, keeps trying to wake up, but she needs rest."
"Keep her sedated if necessary." Zor'go looked at me. "You should check on them."
I should. Maya had grabbed my hand in that damaged escape pod, her eyes desperate and delirious.Knew you'd come. Knew Liberty wouldn't abandon us.
The guilt that crashed over me was physically painful. I'd been building a life on Mothership. Working on expansion projects. Eating lunch with friends. Kissing Zor'go on space station viewing platforms.
Living.
While Maya and Jacob and Tess had been drifting in a jury-rigged escape pod for months, barely surviving, hoping someone would find them.
I'd almost forgotten to keep searching. Had let myself get comfortable. Had let myself be happy.
"Jalina?" Zor'go's voice was gentle.
"I'll check on them," I said, my voice coming out wrong. Too tight. Too strained.
I left the bridge before anyone could see my eyes watering.
The medical bay was brighter than the rest of the shuttle, lit by the clinical white of emergency medical systems. Dr. Yar'thon, a Talaxian with four arms and the most soothingbedside manner I'd ever encountered, was working on Jacob, sealing a deep laceration on his side with a dermal regenerator.
Maya lay on the middle cot, sedated but restless. Her face was gaunt, her cheekbones sharp under skin that had seen too much stress and too little nutrition. She looked nothing like the vibrant architect I'd known on Liberty, the woman who'd given passionate presentations about colony design and always had three different colored pens tucked into her hair.
I pulled a chair close to her cot and sat, taking her hand carefully. Her fingers were cold.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry it took so long."
Maya's eyes fluttered but didn't open. Under the sedation, she murmured something incomprehensible.
"We're going to get you home," I continued, even though she couldn't hear me. Couldn't understand. "Back to Mothership. You'll be safe there. Medical facilities, good food, actual beds. Dana's there, remember Dana Robinson? She's alive. She's safe. She's happy."
