“Teal Riot, Ship 81157,” she said, speaking so quickly that it was a miracle the manicured woman in front of her could understand her. “Has it left yet?”

The assistant gave her a quick, vaguely sympathetic smile as she typed the digits into her computer. “Not yet, but you won’t reach it in time. It’s on the runway—”

“Which one?”

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s about to take off. You won’t reach it.”

“Tell me which one, damn it!”

“Platform twelve, third floor,” the assistant said, her eyes widening slightly as she pointed to her left.

Mitzi yelled a quick “Thank you!” over her shoulder as she started running again. She’d lucked out that she only needed to get to the third floor, and she lucked out again when one of the lift doors opened just as she reached them. She squeezed herself into the compartment, breathing hard, and tried not to look too manic as the doors drew closed and the box started ascending.

She’d loved the ports during her time as an active defence technician. They carried such a wide variety of people, all who had such diverse skills and job descriptions, that she’d spent a lot of her time watching the strangers around her, trying to guess their jobs and personalities. She’d gotten quite good at it.

To her left were two emergency response personnel. That was an easy enough guess; their black uniforms were slightly thicker than normal and clearly made in a government facility. Both had short, slicked-back hair, which was normal for someone used to wearing an emergency response protective helmet. They were young, though, probably barely out of the academy, and judging by the way the woman’s mouth was twitching, they weren’t looking forward to the job they’d been given.

To her right was a maintenance worker dressed in dirty overalls and carrying a crate of tools. Behind him was, she guessed, a merchant and a couple of tourists, one who held a young baby to her chest. The tourists were clutching their tickets so firmly that they seemed frightened they might be taken away.

Not tourists, then… civilians fleeing a planet that was becoming too dangerous for their young family.

The lift pinged as it reached the third floor, and Mitzi squeezed out between the doors while they were still opening. Near-empty grey hallways spread to her left and right. She turned left and counted the dock numbers on the signs she ran past. When she reached twelve, she speared off into the side passageway. Long glass windows let her see into the interior dock, where a large craft—her craft—had started its engines.

CHAPTER FORTY

“Stop!” Mitzi screamed, beating on the windows as she ran past them, aware that no one in the ship would be able to hear her. Someone yelled from the hallway she’d just come down, and without turning around, Mitzi knew she’d attracted the attention of the security guards.

The door that opened into the ship’s boarding room was at the end of the hallway, and Mitzi skidded to a halt in front of it, banging frantically. “I’m here! I made it, damn you!”