The clock continued.
22:34
22:33
22:32
Mouse perked up, a smile on his face. “I have control over the mines.”
Finally.Mace moved to tactical control on the left while letting out a measured breath.
“Aim at those Guardians,” Cache ordered.
The panel lit up beneath his fingers. Using targeting control, he activated the mines’ propulsion systems and sent a cluster of them toward the Guardian attacking thePhalanx.
They hit all at once, making its shields ripple. Something vented into space.
“Don’t stop,” Cache said, her voice hard. “ThePhalanxis dying out there.”
“Sir!” Mouse shouted. “There’s a communication coming from a Condor. It has a Tellusian escort.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Mouse put the audio over the comm. When a hesitant voice echoed in the command center, Mace’s fingers stilled over the control, his stomach plunging.
“Orion. Mace. Commodore. Whoever! This is Nia in Condor Echo Two Six Two.”
He met Cache’s wide eyes. All the blood drained from his body at the sound of Nia’s voice.
“I can identify a traitor trying to gain access toOrion,” she went on, her voice edged in panic. “Please advise me where to land. Please. I’m really bad at this flying thing. Shit. Mace, why didn’t you show me how to use the weapons?” She finished in a near shout, then paused. “Did I already say please? Forget that part and tell me where to land.”
“Cache,” he whispered, praying his commanding officer and friend would know how to stop Nia from killing herself.
Focus. Focus.
Nia gripped the controls so hard her fingers ached. One ofOrion’sarms cast a shadow across the canopy.
A silence followed her frantic declaration. Did her message even get through? She swallowed around the nausea climbing in her throat.
The comm crackled and a male voice said, “Condor Echo Two Six Two, land in docking bay A1. Be advised we still have hostiles in that part of the station. Out.”
“Awesome.” All the moisture left her mouth. “I was looking forward to some hostiles. Where the hell is docking bay A1?” Her nausea increased while she tapped at the screen in front of her, trying to find some control where it would say “schematics” or something.
“Okay,” she said when nothing obvious appeared. She had no more time to look since the station towered ahead of her. “A1 has to be near the top. Section C was at the bottom.” She aimed the fighter toward the apex of the station, hoping her guess was right.
Heart pounding, she circled the station twice before noticing an open bay door. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered, then lined up as best she could.
A guidance system materialized on her screen, directing her with an option for an “automated landing.” She pressed the icon, and the program took over.
A long breath left her, and she sat back a bit. “They’re just going to need to manage if this isn’t A1.”
She passed throughOrion’sshielding and entered the wide bay. Her heart leaped into her throat. It was filled with defenders. She ducked out of sight. So far, they seemed to think she was a friendly because she was in a Condor. But rising panic made her breaths short. The fighter kept lowering. They’d find out she wasn’t a fellow soldier soon enough. If she landed, if the automated system opened the canopy and dropped shields, then she was dead.
Nia pressed the icon to turn off the automated landing, and the Condor nearly crashed. Sheer luck kept her in the air. But the defenders moved frantically to surround her and fired.
Stomach rolling, she watched her shields ripple, holding at eighty-one percent. She could take a lot from the defenders’ weapons, but the shield strength wouldn’t last forever.
The pressure in the bay changed so abruptly Nia almost let go of the controls. The defenders were firing at her one second, then flying out the bay’s doors the next, along with anything that wasn’t secured.Whap, whap, whap.Bodies hit the sides of the fighter. Nia winced, her shoulders up at her ears.
