“Understood, Captain.” I could hear the tension in Alva’s voice. While we held off the Carnivore, she was going to lead her improvised team on an expedition to locate and retrieve survivors on the ground. “We’ll be ready to go on your word.”

“Standby.”

I killed the connection and took a moment to steady my breathing. Around me, I heard the familiar sounds of the bridge: the almost subliminal purr of the air conditioning; distant creaks and groans as different parts of the hull cooled and adjusted to the sudden lack of thrust; and the quiet chimes and bleeps as the ship’s various systems reported routine changes in their respective statuses. It was a soundtrack I had fallen asleep to a hundred times. Now, though, there could be no question of sleep. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, my hands tingled, and my heart thumped so loudly in my ears I worried Laura might be able to hear it. My one and only command before this had been at the helm of a medical frigate, and my job then had been to arrive in the aftermath of a battle and pick through the debris, not order my ship into the heart of one. Still, in accepting command of the Trouble Dog, I had always known it might come to this—that one day I might be called upon to fire upon a pirate vessel or similar—and I knew I could do it, despite the weightless panicky feeling in my stomach and chest.

As a team, we had been able to deal with the challenges we’d so far faced, from the would-be hijackers at Northfield to Ashton Childe’s “episode” in the galley. But neither of those parties had been actively trying to destroy the ship, and neither had possessed the firepower to do so. I may have been personally threatened. I may have been shot and strangled, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter as much to me as the idea of losing the ship.

My home.

This time, everything would be on the line. With one Carnivore loose in the system, and according to the Trouble Dog, another—Adalwolf—due to arrive in a few hours, we were hopelessly outgunned. All we could try to do was deliver the shuttle to the crash site and then attempt to stay alive long enough to pick it up again when Alva and her team had finished.

I tipped back my head and exhaled. Laura Petrushka glanced at me. “Are you okay?”

The white streak in her hair seemed to glow in the light from the screens. I wanted her to put her arms around me and stroke my head. Instead, I wiped my face with my hands and pulled myself up into a straight-backed sitting position. “Have you ever ordered anyone into combat?”

“A couple of times.”

“Does it get any easier?”