“Sorry, Boss,” Amos replied with a grunt as he yanked one end of the broken pipe free. “If I don’t fix this and we lose pressure, Alex won’t be able to turn to starboard anymore. Bet that’ll fuck us up good.”
“Keep working, Amos,” Holden said over Naomi’s protests. “But hang on. This is going to get worse.”
Amos said, “Roger that.”
Holden switched back to Alex’s HUD display.
“Holden,” Naomi said. There was fear in her voice. “Amos is going to get—”
“He’s doing his job. Do yours. Alex, we have to take these two out before the
“Roger that, Cap,” Alex said. “Going after bogey two. Could use some help with bogey one.”
“Bogey one is Naomi’s priority,” Holden said. “Do what you can to keep it off of our backside while we kill his friend.”
“Roger,” Naomi said in a tight voice.
Holden switched back to Amos’ helmet camera, but the mechanic seemed to be doing fine. He was cutting the damaged pipe free with his torch, and a length of replacement pipe floated nearby.
“Strap that pipe down, Amos,” Holden said.
“All respect, Captain,” Amos said, “but safety standards can kiss my ass. I’m getting this done fast and getting outta here.”
Holden hesitated. If Alex had to make a course correction, the floating pipe could turn into a projectile massive enough to kill Amos or break the
Holden flipped to Naomi’s screen as she poured everything the comm system had at the small interceptor, trying to blind it with light and radio static. Then he went back to his tactical display. The
“Alex, why aren’t we shooting?” Holden said.
“Gonna shoot his torpedoes down, then get in close and let the PDCs chew him up,” the pilot replied.
“Why?”
“We’ve only got so many torpedoes and no resupply. No call to waste ’em on these munchkins.”
The incoming torpedoes arced forward on Holden’s display, and he felt the
“Alex,” he said. “We didn’t pay for this ship. Feel free to use it up. If I get killed so you can save ammo, I am going to put a reprimand in your permanent file.”
“Well, you put it that way…” Alex said. Then: “One away.”
The red dot of their torpedo streaked off toward bogey two. The incoming missiles got closer and closer, and then one disappeared from the display.
Alex said, “Shit,” in a flat voice, and then the
“Damage!” Holden yelled, hoping the comm was still up.
“Major damage to the outer hull,” Naomi replied. “Four maneuvering thrusters gone. One PDC nonresponsive. We’ve also lost O2
storage, and the crew airlock looks like it’s slag.”“Why are we alive?” Holden asked while he flipped through the damage report and then over to Amos’ suit camera.
“The fish didn’t hit us,” Alex said. “The PDC got it, but it was close. Warhead detonated and sprayed us down pretty good.”
It didn’t look like Amos was moving. Holden yelled, “Amos! Report!”
“Yeah, yeah, still here, Captain. Just hanging on in case we get knocked around like that again. I think I busted a rib on one of the hull braces, but I’m strapped down. Good fucking thing I didn’t waste time with that pipe, though.”
Holden didn’t take time to answer. He flipped back to his tactical display and watched the rapidly approaching bogey one. It had already fired its torpedoes, but at close range it could still cut them apart with its cannon.
“Alex, can you get us turned around and get a firing solution on that fighter?” he said.
“Working on it. Don’t have much maneuverability,” Alex replied, and the
Holden switched to a telescope and zoomed in on the approaching fighter. Up close, the muzzle of its cannon looked as big around as a corridor on Ceres, and it appeared to be aimed directly at him.
“Alex,” he said.
“Working on it, Chief, but the
The enemy ship’s cannon flared open, preparing to fire.
“Alex, kill it. Kill it
“One away,” the pilot said, and the