And didn’t care.
“Scanners, please tell me that there’s land on that big blue ball,” she muttered as she hit a tried to get a reading, but the scanners weren’t functioning. “I’ll find out soon enough,” she thought as she headed straight for it.
Her pod bucked and shimmied, the systems blinking in and out of function, and the moon’s gravity pulled her into an orbital curve.
She glanced out the window.
There was a Terran ship heading for her.
Good.
They’ll get me to safety.
She watched the ship get closer and closer.
But it wasn’t slowing down.
The scanners blinked to life with a quick warning.
Incoming ship. Weapons locked.
She stared, unable to believe it.
Her own people were about to shoot her.
Freya scrambled and pressed anything and everything she could. Firing whatever meager weapons the pod had to defend itself.
When a Terran fighter closed in, it was far more terrifying than she would have ever imagined.
The lights on the front lit up, and Freya knew that was it.
They were shooting her out of the stars.
She inhaled a breath.
Boom.
Her pod rocked.
But it wasn't because she was hit.
A Rhimodian fighter flew so close she could have touched it had she extended her arm out of the pod.
"Terran Ambassador. Are you injured?"
Freya blinked.
For someone who was part robot, his voice was not that robotic sounding. She'd expected them all to speak like a computer or something.
"Terran Ambassador. Are you injured?"
She shook her head. She should answer him. "Right. Yes. I am fine," she replied.
"Your ship is damaged."
She nodded, though she realized after she did it that he could not see her.
Could he?
