Page 61 of Into Orbit
The red light flashed. ‘Password required.’
I eyed the screen. ‘Override.’
The system thought about it for a tense handful of moments as it dug deeper into the Roth controls. ‘Overridden,’ it announced. ‘Shields deactivated.’
I nodded to it – it wouldn’t know, but it was only polite – and, feeling as if I might have temporarily lost my mind, activated my cutter for a second time. I carefully directed the beam around the control panel, then wrenched it out of its bench as the red light flickered and died.
‘This is going to be a blast,’ I muttered, and I manoeuvred myself back into the waste chute, the control panel under one arm.
The trip back was fraught. I moved as quickly as I could, but the ship’s shields failed before I reached the chute cover, and it began taking direct hits. Shields weren’t the Roth’s only protection; the hull was made of a metal mined on their home planet, Scytha, and it was impervious to almost anything, though dent after dent was appearing as the opposing ship continued its assault.
I flattened myself against the metal as one large dent appeared between me and my Pod. The hull glowed briefly at the friction, but the heat dissipated quickly in the void of space. It wouldn’t be the same inside the ship; the heat would radiate and begin to cause damage to the ship’s infrastructure. I moved forward in an awkward shuffle, reaching the Pod with my hearts beating hard in my ears. I hadn’t been scared until this moment, but the missile had been uncomfortably close.
The Pod slid open. I tossed the control panel in the passenger seat then climbed in, trying to quiet my pulse as the Pod closed and the environment stabilised. When the pressure had settled, I pulled off my helmet and shoved it back into the small hold in the Pod roof, then activated the systems.
‘Automatic pilot, back to the peacekeeping ship,’ I said tersely.
The manual controls slid back inside the panel. ‘Automatic mode activated. Returning to Peacekeeping Ship Number Seventeen-Hundred and Sixty-Three, TitleForest Souls.’
I settled into the pilot’s chair. It moulded to my back and the restraining vines wrapped around my torso and shoulders, keeping me in place. The Pod detached from the Roth hull; the boosters activated, and it shot through space, dodging crumbling asteroids.
I blew out a breath.
It felt wrong to be flyingawayfrom Willow, but I’d need backup for a rescue. I knew where the ship was now, and I punched the coordinates into a communication back to Juniper and the peacekeeping ship. I’d insist on being part of the rescue, but if I tried to go in alone and got killed, that would be of no use at all to Willow.
Hold on, my love.
The Pod shuddered.
‘What –’
‘Critical damage sustained,’ the Pod’s system told me calmly.
‘Fuck,’ I answered.
There was another shudder, and the side of the Pod bent inwards.
And so did my shoulder and ribs.
Agonising spears of pain shot through my body. I heard my ribs snap and my shoulder gave a sickeningpopas it dislocated. My head felt odd, and waves of fire pulsed through my face and down my neck.
The pain was excruciating, but I would have welcomed its continuance, because as my spines twisted, my body went numb. I watched dully as the emergency shadow-moss grew from the Pod’s roof to cover the holes open to the void of space.
‘Get back to Maeve,’ I croaked, before I passed out.
‘What’shappening?’Annawhispered,struggling to sit up on the cot.
The Roth outside the cell was speaking into his wrist screen. His face gave nothing away, and I was again struck by the notion that Ashton would approve, but it was frustrating to getnothingfrom the male’s blank expression. The window was too high for us to reach, and the shuddering seemed to be coming from the other side of the ship, anyway; I wasn’t sure we’d see anything other than space if we managed to get to the window in the first place.
The Roth loosed a growl that needed no interpretation; something wasn’t right. His eyes flickered to Anna. There was something going on that I didn’t fully understand, but there was heat and possession in that black gaze. If the Roth had stolen Anna from Earth to be part of their infamous breeding pens, this was hardly the way to go about it; Anna was being treated as part prisoner, part princess.
‘We are being attacked,’ the Roth ground out. His eyes went to Vesper. ‘You must protect the female.’
The starling gestured at his ankle. ‘How?’
The Roth growled again. ‘In any way you can.’ He glared at me. ‘You, too.’
‘I’m a doctor, not a warrior,’ I said calmly.
