Sloane’s voice is a tremor. “If we die?—”
“We won’t.”
I cut her off.
Because willpower’s the only thing still working on this ship.
“Approach locked,” the AI says in its calm, deadpan voice. “Prepare for landing.”
CHAPTER 3
STICKY, CHEAP, AND POORLY ENGINEERED
ELENA – XYTHEOS SYSTEM
The universe triesto kill us again before we even touch dirt.
We hit Xytheos’s atmosphere.
The pressure spike feels like the sky’s had a bad day and we’re the last straw. Heat builds fast. Shields waver. I watch the status dip from six percent to three, two, then?—
I look away.
The hull is screaming with the friction and stress, but at least there’s enough of it left to make noise.
“Strap in!” Sloane shouts. “Going to be a rough one!”
Twenty women aboard a craft built for ten is not within safety specifications for a crash landing, but we’ve done our best. I start counting under my breath. Seven. Six. Five?—
Below us, I see blue oceans and a dense jungle canopy. Beyond, there are other biomes. It’s a beautiful planet. It’s a shame about what they’re going to do to us if we live.
Red strobes blink weakly. Then they fail.
A bolt of green lightning tears across the sky, so bright it punches through a viewport. The shuttle yaws hard to port, and we slow. Hard. We must be coming in way too fast. The g-forcehits like a body slam. Limbs tangle. Metal groans. Flesh collides with wet thuds. We’re nothing but meat bags in seatbelts and poorly chosen cargo netting.
The coolant line blows overhead with a hiss and a splatter.
Something pink and sticky rains down. Hope nobody’s synapses get fried.
“Sticky. Cheap. Poorly engineered!” shouts Dana.
Piper, bleeding from her temple and grinning like a madwoman, swipes it off her face. "Let's hope that's not a metaphor for our love lives!"
Someone chokes out a hysterical snort. It might be me.
Four. Three?—
I can just reach the control panel. I flail at it with my fingertips. “Slow us down!”
The AI voice stutters in.
—WARNING. HULL TEMPERATURE EXCEEDS—EXCEEDS—EXCEEDS?—
“Override!” My voice rips raw. “Decelerate! Initiate emergency landing procedures!”
—RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE DECELERATION?—
“No shit!” Sloane shouts. “Do it!”
