Milla nodded, and the two got to work.

►►►

PC Parasite Five

► “Subaltern, we are ready to attempt a quantum lock on the target.”

“Good,” Penae said, annoyed that it had taken that long, though the craft was pretty badly broken up.

“Subaltern!” The scanner officer turned around. “Explosions on the craft!”

Penae grimaced, wondering if he and his forces were going to lose everything due to some crash damage. It would be a victory of sorts, but only technically. “How large?”

“Very small, focused charges.”

“Charges? Not caused by crash damage?” he asked.

“Almost certainly not.”

Penae grunted, lips twisting. “They’re blowing their computers, then. Disciplined, structured, and with plans for all contingencies.”

“Subaltern?”

“Continue with the quantum lock,” he ordered. “We don’t need their computers. We have them.”

►►►

Shuttle Eagle One

► Wisps of acrid smoke were floating through the shuttle cockpit as Steph kicked open the emergency locker and pulled out the kit he found there.

It wasn’t much, unfortunately, just a small survival pack with some food, water, medical supplies, a radio, and a sidearm. Better than nothing, but only marginally.

He looked pensively to the sealed door that led back to the troop section of the shuttle.

“What is it?” Milla asked, noting his stare.

“I think that the Marines keep a ready action kit in the shuttle,” he said.

Milla shook her head. “That section is likely breached. Without your helmet . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” Steph asserted, grabbing a pair of goggles from the emergency supplies and fitting them over his eyes. “I’ve got air, eye protection, and my suit is otherwise intact. It’s not a vacuum out there, just very noxious. Besides, it’s not like we have a choice.”

“We can sit here,” she urged. “You launched a beacon. The Odysseus is not far away . . .”

The shuttle shifted then, sending them careening into one another and then into the bulkhead behind Milla with a thud.

“What was that?” Steph looked around wildly.

Milla grimaced. “I believe that was an attempt to establish a quantum lock with us.”

“Oh, just perfect,” Steph groaned. “Discussion’s over. Time to go.”

He waited for her to steady herself, then climbed over to the door and grabbed the emergency release latch. A tug blew the door’s seals, and Steph yanked it back, letting the door clang into the far wall as air hissed and streamers of fumes curled around them.

He led the way through the hatch into the troop section, whistling under his mask as he looked through the gaping splits in the fuselage out to the dark red-and-orange vista beyond.

“I think it’s over here,” he said, jumping over a wide split in the floor and pausing to check his ribs with a free hand before climbing, face contorting in pain, over wrecked seating to a large locker beyond.

The locker took some persuading to open, but with effort, they got in.