Chapter 50

Patterns shifted from amber to red then to green on the console as systems strained, failed, then came back online. To Connor, it felt like one of those reaction time computer tests. He could tap a key or flip a switch to reroute power from one system to another, but the instant he did, another system demanded attention.
The ship’s slow destruction was the pounding soundtrack: metal pinging and screeching.
Yemi’s seat grumbled and punched Connor’s back, rejecting the unwanted guest. The co-pilot’s scent floated out of the cover like a ghost.
Connor fought through it. Distraction at this point was death.
Martienne’s voice floated over her seat. “Thrust on engine two.”
“Saw that.” Connor tapped the button to up the flow through the primary line.
Nothing happened.
He tapped the Aux Fuel button. “Rerouting through auxiliary fuel feed.”
The indicator light barely drifted away from red.
Harness buckles unsnapped, then Drew was behind him, staring over his shoulder. “Engine two fuel?”
“Yeah.” He tapped the button to up the primary flow again. “Nothing’s working.”
“I’ve got it.”
She pushed off from his seat, and before he could warn her to be careful, the bridge hatch hissed open, and she was gone with a hurried clomp.
Then Martienne’s voice rose over the chaos of protesting metal. “Hangar bay hatch heat is climbing, Lieutenant Co-pilot.”
What?
Connor groaned. The explosive!
In space, the outer hatch would have been fine if it were a little warped from the blast. But they were in atmosphere, where there would be friction from any lack of streamlining, and that would cause heat to build up.
Fast.
He’d been stupid to forget that. “Small defect on the outer skin.”
“Defects cannot be repaired at this stage.”
“I can flood the compartment with fire retardant.”
The pilot grunted. “Do what you can, Lieutenant Co-pilot.”
Given how she treated her normal co-pilot, Connor wasn’t sure if she was being condescending or not. He flipped the switch to override the fire suppression system in the hangar bay.
After a few seconds, the temperature dropped slightly, then steadied.
A new light flashed on the console.
It was the ship’s radio.
Connor dug around for Yemi’s headset, which was secured under the console. It fit a little loosely, and there was a constant background hiss.
Maybe the older man never even noticed.
It was something Connor would just have to deal with.
He activated the radio. “This is the Lucky Sevens, go ahead.”
“Connor?” The voice on the other end sounded muffled and far away.
“Selen?” Connor activated filtering to improve the signal. “Are you okay?”
“Hello?” Her voice was cleaner, stronger. “Yes. I hear you. Are you coming down?”
“We’re headed down now. About—” He checked the timer. “—twelve minutes out.”
“Good. I saw a shooting star and hoped it was you.”
“Martienne’s at the pilot station.”
The pilot threw an arm up and waved. “If that is the captain, tell her the ship will grow brighter soon.”
“But the hatch is stable.”
“It is for now, yes. Without a change to our angle, it will heat up again soon.”
“Okay.” Connor keyed the headset. “Selen? We’ll be growing brighter soon.”
“Everything okay?”
“When I blasted the shuttle out, a piece must’ve clipped the door.”
“Just get down here in one piece.”
The tenor and volume of the shaking altered, and it almost seemed as if the old ship might be drifting sideways. Hissing that might have been curses of some sort floated up from the pilot station.
Connor twisted in his seat. “Another problem?”
Martienne sighed. “An old one. The landing gear, it is not responding.”
They were below ten minutes. That gave them just about enough time to fix the problem.
He reached for his harness but froze when he realized his pocket computer was chiming.
It sounded like a connection from Drew.
Pinned against the seat by the harness, it was tough pulling the device out without pushing with the back of his bruised leg. He finally worked the computer free and set it on the console.
Drew’s strained face stared at him when he accepted the call. “I felt the ship shifting around. Everything okay?”
Connor almost laughed. “It’s just some heat on the hull from the hangar bay hatch. Martienne’s adjusting our descent to cut down on it.”
“Oh. So, I got an alarm on my system that the landing gear actuators are out?”
“It’s a chronic problem.”
“Sure. I saw in the log that you’ve been using unlicensed refurbished parts.”
“A compromise. Normally, we don’t go into an atmosphere like this.”
“Well, I can pop those systems using manual pumps if we’ve got time.”
“Less than nine minutes.”
“On it.”
She closed the connection.
Connor caught Martienne staring at him from her station, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth, but she turned away.
“Lieutenant Co-pilot.”
He waited for a bad stretch of rattling to pass. “Yes?”
“You are doing the work of a co-pilot. Thank you.”
How was he supposed to respond to that? It felt like a compliment.
His headset crackled, and he remembered he was still connected to Selen.
The crackling grew louder, taking on a different pattern, rising in its cycling.
It wasn’t crackling but gunfire.
Connor keyed the microphone. “Selen?”
“Go ahead.” The captain’s voice was strained.
“Was that…gunfire?”
“Yeah. One of those things entered the perimeter of our lights.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“Saw it. It was there and gone. The twins say it went back to the tree line.”
“Just one?”
“One’s enough. The thing’s four meter’s tall.”
Four meters! Bugs weren’t supposed to be able to grow anywhere near that big. Their segmented legs weren’t capable of handling so much mass.
But these were aliens.
If only one had tried the perimeter, maybe things weren’t so bad. Connor checked the timer. “We’re less than seven minutes out.”
Selen’s connection opened, but her voice was lost in the roar of gunfire.
The shooting dragged on for long seconds.
Finally, it stopped, and her breathing was loud in his ear. “They’re out there, Connor. They’re massing inside those tree things. Hundreds of them. Hurry.”
He turned to Martienne, who nodded. She’d been listening.
Connor gritted his teeth. How could time only run slow when it worked against him? “We’re coming, Selen.”
Then the gunfire started again. This time, it didn’t stop.