Maren pulled her white suit over her uniform, zipped it up, then locked the gloves and boots into place. Saul was checking his equipment, which included an array of knives and a gun armed with neurotoxins for any aggressive lifeforms they might meet.

“Is it too late to apologise?”

Maren, who had been strapping her right boot to the suit, rose and turned slowly. Suriya stood in the doorway. She looked as if she had just finished being sick; her face was sallow, and dark circles were developing around her eyes. She looked between Saul and Maren and tried to smile. “That was crazy back there. And I’m really, really sorry.”

“Yeah,” Maren said slowly. “Crazy.”

“I know it doesn’t excuse my behaviour, but last week, I received a notification that there was an investigation into my job performance and that I might be removed to a smaller station.” She paused, took a deep breath, and continued in a calmer voice. “It’s had me under a lot of pressure to make everything perfect, and when the system went down… well…” She waved her hand then let it drop limply to her side.

Maren turned to Saul. He was watching their leader, his expression unreadable.

“I’d like to come and help, if you’ll have me,” Suriya said. “I have some experience with the communication rigs on this station.”

Again, Maren looked to Saul. He gave a small nod then picked up one of the suits from the shelf and tossed it to their leader. She caught it, flashed him a thin smile, and began pulling the pants over her legs.

She’d almost completely suited up when a loud mechanical whoop came from the corner of the room. Maren glanced in its direction and saw the screen had turned red and was counting down from seventy minutes. She swore. “Another flare? Already? Today does not want to be nice to us, does it?”

Suriya was looking at Saul. “What do you think? Do we have time to get out there?”

“Protocol,” he said simply.

Flare safety protocol, which was drilled into them at least once a month, was excessively clear on what should happen when the system detected an incoming flare. When the siren sounded, any crew outside the station were to return immediately. The only excuse for leaving the building during a flare countdown was the unlikely situation that a crewmate had become stranded and needed help.

“I know, I know,” Suriya hissed. She ran her fingers through her hair, and stress lines were creeping back into her face. “We’ve lost our entire system, though. If it’s a simple fault, we could have it fixed in under ten minutes.” She looked back at Saul and shrugged. “You know how important this is, and you know how dangerous it is, too. I’ll let you make the call.”

Saul glanced at the window set in the external door then looked to Maren.

She shrugged. “I’m game if you are.”

“Okay,” he said. “But we’re coming back when the countdown reaches forty minutes, whether it’s fixed or not.”