She kept an eye on the computers as she went through the asteroid belt and almost cried with relief when the blinking dot of a nearby planet showed up on the screen. The computer scanned it.

“Fortuna,” the Novan computer intoned. “Mostly water-based. Planet terraformed in the year—”

“Can I land on it?” Clo snapped at the computer.

“Sending landing coordinates,” the computer responded.

Clo’s entire body strained as another missile skimmed the ship. If it sustained any more damage, they’d all die in this asteroid belt, another ghost ship left behind to decay with the others. Three more deaths to add to the empire’s billions.

“We’re gonna make it,” she said to Briggs and Sher, desperation the only thing allowing her to keep focus. “We’re gonna make it.”

Briggs’s hand was limp over the bullet wound. His skin was so pale. “Alesca,” he said. Clo flinched at the slight tremor in his voice. “You’re a good kid.”

“Briggs.” Clo heard the concern in Sher’s voice. “Don’t—”

“And you’re a damn fine commander.” Briggs’s voice was beginning to slur.

“Shut it,” Clo said, as the ship crossed to the end of the asteroid belt. God, they were so close. Almost there. “Shut it, Briggs. Don’t blare at us like yer already sunk.”

Clo couldn’t think about Briggs. If she did, they would never survive. “I’m going to have to crash the ship,” she told Sher. When he opened his mouth to argue, she said, “We need something big enough to draw their attention while we escape, okay? This is all we have.”

Sher gave a decisive nod.

Clo jammed the steering forward, and she and Sher unclipped their belts. They rose unsteadily to their feet and held on to the ceiling strap as the ship zoomed down, down, down.

One chance. That’s all they had to make it. They grabbed two parachute packs from the hold and put them on.

Briggs was still as Sher and Clo dragged his heavy, muscled ass out of the seat and slid the strap of the parachute around him.

“Alesca,” Sher said. Then, more softly: “Clo.”

“Don’t say it,” she snapped. “Don’t fucking say it.”

She pulled the levers to open the emergency hatch. Her stomach dropped as she stared down at the ground below her, coming ever closer. If they waited much longer, they’d never get the parachute open in time.

“Now or never,” she whispered. “I’ve got you, Briggs.”

Briggs didn’t answer.

Clo shut her eyes and flung them both out of the ship. As the air rushed around them, she clasped Briggs hard to her, her body trembling with fear. Distantly, she heard the ship skimming across the water to crash into the sand of the shallows. It didn’t explode, at least, but the ship would probably need to be scrapped for parts and rebuilt.