Part of her training as a priestess had taught her to follow subtle micro-expressions. Even though the guy was clearly human, she’d been around enough in the past five years to know what he was thinking.
Lieutenant Commander Shera and lieutenant Meva were still at the bar. They hadn’t moved a muscle, and likely wouldn’t.
They were staring on with cruel amusement.
“Th-that was crazy,” Nema spluttered as she tried to hold Ava’s arm up to stop the bleeding. “This looks really deep. You must be in a hell of a lot of pain.”
“It’s fine,” Ava managed truthfully. She stopped herself from saying she’d had worse. Much worse.
Every single day she trained to the death using her neural link. It had a way of putting pain in perspective.
“You’re always so goddamn brave. I’ll get a med kit.” Nema skidded toward the bar and demanded one from the surprised barman.
“I’ve already called a med team,” one of the officers said. From her collar, she looked like a commander.
“I’m medic class,” Nema said politely.
“Then continue,” the Commander snapped. “Now you two,” she pointed to the burly men guarding the trader, “Take him into custody. I’ll inform the Captain.” Finally, the Commander turned her attention on Ava. “Are you alright, Ensign?”
Ava shrugged, then, as she realized who she was talking to, nodded stiffly. “I’m fine, Commander.”
The Commander nodded and walked away. “Then this situation is dealt with. All parties involved return to the ship,” she added as she strode away.
Ava guessed that included her. Though, honestly, she still had no idea what happened.
The lieutenant who’d saved her cleared his throat and brushed past.
“Thank you,” she tried to get his attention, but he wouldn’t look at her.
He strode away.
“Never mind,” she muttered under her breath as he cut a quick path through the crowd.
Shera and Meva chose that exact moment to walk past. Though Ava was certain they’d ignore both her, Shera stopped and picked up the thriphasic wrench Ava had discarded on the floor. “I’ll requisition this for evidence,” she announced to no one in particular, “Though it’s clear what happened,” she added in a low unkind tone.
Ava didn’t ask what she meant. Instead, she stood patiently as Nema saw to her arm.
“It shouldn’t take long to fix it up,” Nema chatted kindly as she worked. “It’s kind of remarkable, though.”
“What’s remarkable?” Ava asked distractedly as she watched Shera stride out of sight.
“There isn’t a single mark on your armlet. That wrench was on a pretty high setting.”
“Hmm,” Ava managed.
“Anyhow, I think you’re fine for now. I can’t detect any nerve damage. I guess we should return to the ship like Commander Hutchins told us to.”
“You weren’t involved. You should stay here and enjoy your last couple of minutes of shore leave.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll come with you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Nema leaned in and whispered quietly, “But everyone’s eyes are on you. And I think you’d draw less attention if you have someone by your side.”
Ava smiled up at her friend but shook her head gently. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Nema gave an exasperated laugh. “Which proves my point perfectly. You, Ava, aren’t scared of anything.”
“Trust me,” Ava took a step back and returned her searching gaze through the crowd as she tried to spy Shera, “There are things that scare me,” she said offhand.
“Ha? Really? What?”
“I should follow orders and return to the ship.” Ava took the opportunity to pull back, nod, and walk away with a wave.
She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the stares.
When she was out of the bar and away from the primary shopping strip, she brought up her arm and checked her lock.
She ran a finger expertly along the rim.
It was undamaged. The priestesses had assured her there was nothing in the Coalition arsenal that could destroy it without taking Ava with it.
She headed straight back to the ship, though a few times the view threatened to pull her back in. By the time she made it to her quarters, there was a message waiting for her.
She’d been summoned to the Captain’s office.
She turned on her foot and walked out of the door.
Her back was itching.
For some reason, she felt uneasy.
And she had no idea why.
…
Lieutenant Hunter McClane
“What the hell happened?” Harvey rested back in his seat and shook his head at Hunter.
“I tried to intervene when it became clear the Ensign couldn’t save herself.”
Harvey leaned over his desk, locking a hand on the polished wood as he shook his head. “Skip to the bit where you fell right on top of her.”
Hunter let out a stiff breath. “It was an accident. She slipped.”
“Yep. The entire thing was an accident. An embarrassing one. It should never have happened.” Harvey pressed a hand into his brow and massaged it.
“It’s not my fault, Harvey.”
Harvey stopped massaging his brow and shot Hunter a pointed look. “Captain. We’re not brothers onboard this ship, Lieutenant.”
Hunter drove his teeth together. “If we’re not brothers, then why the hell am I here?”
Harvey’s jaw stiffened. “I don’t like your tone.”
“Really? And I don’t like the fact I’m working under you. I didn’t ask for this assignment, and I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes you do,” Harvey said seriously, locking Hunter in a direct gaze. “The reason you’re on this ship is because I want you to stay on this ship once I’ve got her into shape. I requested you because you’re one of the best. And I got you because the top brass agrees.”
Hunter locked his teeth together. There were so many things he wanted to say, but precisely none would be appropriate to tell your Captain.
Instead, he sat there and simmered.
Before Harvey could come up with another bullshit excuse as to why Hunter had been dragged onboard, the door beeped.
In walked the Ensign from the accident.
She didn’t look perturbed. Most fresh-faced ensigns cowered when the Captain called them to his office.
She looked almost bored.
Still, she snapped a salute. “Sir, you summoned me.”
“Yes, I did, Ensign Ava. Now please take a seat.” Harvey gestured to the seat beside Hunter. “I want you to tell me in your own words what happened.”
“I assume you’re talking about the incident in the bar. Not much. The trader grabbed my armlet, offered to give me 200 Standard Galactic Credits. I told him they weren’t for sale. He offered 250. I tried to pull my arm back, then he pulled out a triphasic wrench. The wrench gouged a hole out of my arm and left a pool of blood at my feet. When the lieutenant here,” she nodded at Hunter, “Tried to intervene, I slipped on my blood, and he fell on me. The trader was restrained—”
The Captain put up a hand.
Hunter twitched. He wanted to point out he hadn’t fallen on this Ensign Ava – she’d pulled him down.
This whole sorry affair had nothing to do with him. He should have just left her to tussle it out with the trader.
“I want you to tell me why it happened,” Harvey continued, expression unreadable.
“I don’t know. Perhaps the trader believed my armlets were expensive.” Ava shrugged.
“That’s not what I’m asking. Ensign, I want to know why you didn’t have the bodily strength to defend yourself in the first instance.” Harvey pressed his fingers together and leaned forward, eyes locked on Ava.
At first, she didn’t respond. Then she shifted her gaze to the side as she stared at the wall. “I tried. I was incapable,” she summarized, still not making eye contact.
Harvey sighed. It was quiet, and you had to know him as well as Hunter did to pick it up. “Your physical fitness scores are below par. I’m surprised you graduated with these. Still, it’s not for me to question the Academy. It is, however,” Hunter leaned forward again, piercing gaze locked on Ensign Ava, “Up to me to question whether you are fit for duty aboard my vessel.”
Hunter’s brow crumpled in confusion as he looked between Harvey and Ava.
What the heck was going on here?
Ava – despite the fact she was facing off against a captain questioning her fitness – looked relatively nonplussed.
“Why are you aboard my vessel, exactly?” Harvey leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Because I was assigned here.”
Harvey drummed his fingers on his arms, and he got a particular look in his eyes. A look Hunter knew all too well.
Harvey didn’t trust Ensign Ava.
“By your government?” Harvey suddenly asked, eyes narrowing as he keenly watched Ava for her reaction.
She looked confused. “Ah, I’m not sure I understand. I was sponsored by the Avixan government to join the Coalition Academy. They didn’t assign me to the Mandalay – they couldn’t. If you’re questioning why I was picked for this program, in light of my… deficient skills in comparison to the other Avixans in the Coalition, I can’t answer that on cultural grounds.”
Hunter was confused. He had zero idea what was going on. The only thing he knew for sure was his brother didn’t entirely trust this Ensign Ava.
Harvey was a lot of things, but he was a great judge of character.
“I am aware your people do not discuss their society. However, I need you to tell me one thing – should you be on my ship?”
Ava considered him. “That’s up to you, sir.”
“You’d be comfortable if I reassigned you?” Harvey challenged, expression once more blank.
Ava nodded. “I’d be comfortable if I was reassigned or if I stayed. Serving the Coalition is all that matters,” she added as if as an afterthought.
Most ensigns would beg to stay on the Mandalay – she was a heck of a ship to cut your teeth on.
Hunter could tell Harvey had no idea how to deal with that statement.
Harvey rocked back in his seat and typed something on his personal screen. He didn’t make eye contact with Ava as he worked.
Hunter knew exactly what Harvey was doing – he was trying to make the Ensign stew. Only problem was, she looked fine.
Eventually, Harvey dropped the act and stood. “Report to your duty station, Ensign. And don’t come to my attention again.”
Ava snapped a salute, turned, and walked from the room.
Hunter caught sight of the side of her face. Her eyes weren’t screwed up in fear or shame.
She looked fine.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Hunter spun in his seat to stare at his brother. “What the hell was that about?”
Harvey pushed a breath through his lips. “Never mind. Now, back to you.” Harvey sat and stared directly at Hunter. “I know you have it in you to be a great captain someday. Today was embarrassing, but put it behind you. I know you’ll flourish on this ship. That being said, don’t fall on top of any more ensigns.”
Hunter winced as he pushed to his feet. “Will that be all?”
“That’ll be all.” Harvey nodded. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Hunter turned and headed for the door.
“Hunter,” Harvey suddenly said, “I believe in you. Now start believing in yourself. And that’s an order.”
Hunter hung back for a single second. Then he walked out the door.
By the time he made it onto the bridge, he saw Ensign Ava entering one of the lifts on the opposite side.
It’s not all he saw. Lieutenant Commander Shera had her head twisted toward the Ensign, her expression….
Strange.
She wasn’t angry, but something close. Come to think of it, she hadn’t done a thing when that trader had attacked Ensign Ava.
Did they have a history?
Harvey was close with Shera, even though he wouldn’t admit that to anyone. Maybe Shera had warned Harv about Ava. In which case, why the heck was she still onboard? The Captain of a vessel had complete veto power over his crew.
The questions settled in Hunter’s skull as he strode quickly across the bridge and reached the lifts.
Only one led down to the crew quarters. The rest were priority routes to major decks.
He needed to head down in the same lift Ava had taken. He wanted to wait until she’d disembarked in case the lift rerouted back to the bridge to pick him up.
The last thing he wanted was to face the Ensign.
She’d already ruined his day.
When he’d waited long enough, pretending to neaten his collar, he jammed his thumb onto the panel.
The lift doors opened immediately. Ava was still inside, expression muddled as she looked at the controls.
She looked up as he paused at the doors.
Figures that she was so goddamn dumb, she couldn’t operate the lift controls.
He briefly considered using another lift and taking a circuitous route back to his quarters. He knew a few of the officers on the bridge were already casting curious glances his way, though. So he pushed into the lifts.
The doors closed behind him.
He pushed past Ava and quickly typed something into the control panel.
Ava took a polite step away from him. “Thank you for your assistance in the bar, Lieutenant.”
“Harvey– Captain McClane was right – you should have been able to defend yourself,” he snapped. He knew he should hold it in. He couldn’t. He also knew he didn’t really have a good reason to be angry at Ava – she’d been attacked. He was just transferring his frustration at being at the beck and call of his brother.
Still, he didn’t retract his statement.
“You don’t need to feel ashamed that you fell on top of me, Lieutenant. If was my fault. I accept that,” she said in an even calm tone.
Her direct statement cut right to the core. Because yes, he was goddamn embarrassed at falling on an ensign in front of a bar full of his crewmates. He’d flattened her, torso-to-torso. If it hadn’t been for her thankfully soft, voluminous hair, he would probably have nutted himself on the floor. And if it hadn’t been for her equally soft and voluminous… other assets, he would have jammed the top of his chest against her ribs.
He felt his skin redden at the thought. Which was frankly pathetic. He hadn’t flushed like this since his first date. And that had been a long time ago now. He had a deserved reputation at the Academy, and men with deserved reputations didn’t blush like school children.
Something about her must be irritating him, he reasoned quickly. Probably the same thing that had irked his brother.
In his current mood, it only took another half second to conclude that Ensign Ava was untrustworthy, pathetic, and deserving of any anger he felt toward her.
“So thank you for your assistance once more,” Ava finished.
“You don’t need to keep saying that,” he snapped. “Once is enough. You want to thank me, learn to look after yourself. We watch each other’s backs on a ship like this. If we can’t rely on you, you shouldn’t be here.”
His words were vicious, his tone sharp.
Though he wanted to keep staring at the doors, he couldn’t help but slice his gaze toward her.
She looked fine.
He’d just given her a verbal dressing down, and she looked as if they were discussing nothing more offensive than the weather.
And that right there – her lack of reaction – made him all the angrier.
He knew he wasn’t controlling his expression. Any self-aware ensign would be cowering in the corner.
She stared at him out of the corner of her eye impassively.
As a kick of frustration flared in his gut, he suddenly
realized the lift was taking too long. “Why is this—”
“Lift taking so long?” she finished his question. “Because I think there’s a fault in the coordinate map. I noticed it before you got on. I guess nobody’s tested the quarters lift from the bridge yet. This is the ship’s first run, there’s bound to be problems.”
“You knew there was a fault with the coordinate controls and you didn’t tell me?” he snapped.
“I assumed you knew what you were doing when you shoved me out of the way,” she replied evenly.
There wasn’t much he could reply to that. Not reasonably, anyway.
“Why is it that everything is going to hell around you today, Ensign? Are you cursed?”
“Respectfully, sir, I don’t know how to answer that. I can point out, however, that if you want to get out of here, we need to make a call to engineering. I’m pretty sure this lift is just going to circle around the shafts without a functioning coordinate map.”
He dearly wanted to snap at her again, but she was right.
Instead, he tapped his wrist device and cleared his throat.
She walked past him, a few locks of her vibrant red hair brushing past his arm. She pushed a finger into the communication link on the lift. “Your wrist device won’t work in here, Lieutenant. All communications have to be rerouted through the communication links for the next 24 hours until they complete the installation of the communication guidance network.”
He knew that. He’d been at the briefing where Chief Engineer B’cal had told all the officers that.
But he’d forgotten. Why? Because Ensign Ava was irritating the hell out of him.
She kept her finger pressed into the link button as she turned to him, her expression still impassive. “Should I make the call, or should you, Lieutenant?”
“I can make the call,” he said through stiff lips.
Was she questioning his abilities? Sure, he’d fallen on top of her rather than save her, had failed to pick up this lift didn’t have a functioning map, and he’d clean forgotten communications were offline.
But he wasn’t an idiot.
This was all her fault.
He cleared his throat. “Engineering bay, this is McClane.”
There was a pause, then a gravelly voice answered, “There are two McClanes onboard, you might want to narrow it down, Lieutenant,” Chief Engineer B’cal rumbled in his grating voice.
Hunter winced. “This is Lieutenant Hunter McClane. I’m in the quarter’s lift that departs from the bridge. It doesn’t have a functioning coordinate map.”
B’cal sighed. “Add it to my list. If we actually depart this afternoon, I’ll eat my fist. This ship has a long list of problems right now. It’ll take us a while to get to you. I’ll inform your superior you’ll be out of action for a few hours.”
“A few hours,” Hunter nearly choked on his voice.
“Sorry, Lieutenant, we just don’t have the manpower. Lifts are a non-critical system. Right now we’re working on life-support and gravity control. I’m sure you can appreciate how important they are.”
Hunter gave an internal groan. “Yes,” he forced himself to agree in an even tone, “I can. Do what you have to.”
The thought of spending another minute, let alone a few hours, with Ensign Ava was murder.
Ava cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Chief Engineer B’cal, I assume?”
“Yep, that’s me. Who’s speaking?”
“Ensign Ava.”
“You only got one name, Ensign?”
“I am Avixan. My culture only permits single monikers.”
“Another Avixan, ha? That makes five aboard now, ha,” B’cal noted with a gruff laugh.
Ava stiffened. From head to toe, she resembled a statue. “Five?”
“I guess you haven’t been onboard long enough to meet the others yet, ha? Anyhow, what do you want, Ensign Ava?”
She looked pale. For the first time since he’d met her, Ava looked thrown.
“Ensign?” B’cal prompted.
“Wouldn’t it be quicker to return the lift to its cradle and walk?”
“Its cradle’s right at the bottom of the ship. None of the other lifts in that section work. Hell, some of the corridors aren’t finished yet. You’d have to travel by access shaft for a whole deck.”
“But it would still be quicker than waiting for technicians to fix the lift, right? Plus, wouldn’t it be easier for your engineers to fix the lift once it’s back in its cradle?”
“True. But like I said – that’ll be one hell of a walk. But you’re right – it’ll be quicker than waiting. To be honest, the rate new faults are coming to my attention, you might be stuck in that lift half a day.”
“We’ll walk,” Hunter snapped.
“Walk it is. Though the coordinate map of your lift is broken, Ensign Ava’s right – it’ll still be able to return to its cradle with the automatic override. Lieutenant, if you pry the primary panel back, the override switch should be behind it. Press it, then get ready to become intimately acquainted—” B’cal dropped off the line for a second as he mumbled an order to someone.
Hunter stiffened. What the hell was B’cal about to say? Christ, people hadn’t been spreading dumb rumors about that dumb incident in the bar, had they?
“Sorry about that,” B’cal came back online, “What was I saying? Oh yeah. Get ready to become intimately acquainted with the belly of the Mandalay – you’re about to trek through the whole thing. Have fun,” he added before he signed off.
Hunter wasted no time in prying off the primary control panel and thumbing the manual override.
The lifts groaned to a halt, shuddered slightly, and slowly began to descend.
Normal lifts aboard a normal Coalition vessel did not groan or shudder.
Clearly yet another problem to add to B’cal’s list.
The lifts kept shuddering as they descended. It sent a nervous worry plunging through his gut.
These lifts were operational, right? The numerous safety mechanisms that would stop the lifts from falling – or worse, speeding up to their full velocity and slamming into a wall – were in place, right?
He caught Ava looking at him.
He stiffened his jaw and subtly clutched a hand behind his back, sure that she couldn’t see it.
He hated not being in control. He hated facing an enemy he couldn’t see, even if right now it was a goddamn faulty lift.
Ava looked like she wanted to say something but clearly thought better of it as she turned back to stare at the doors.
The lift gave a violent shudder, and she was pushed off balance.
She tumbled toward him.
On pure instinct, he grabbed her just in time, lurching to the side to cancel out the momentum of her fall.
She’d fallen toward him face-first, and now that same face was pressed into his chest as he anchored her to the spot.
Before he could push her away or become too distracted by the soft touch of her hair along his arms, or the press of her chest against his side, the lift lurched again.
“What the hell?” he barked.
“Lift loosing integrity,” the computer droned in an emotionless tone.
“Shit,” he swore. “Stop the lift in place. Now.”
“Brakes are failing.”
“What?! How can they fail?”
Ava wriggled out of his arms. He’d been holding her. Tightly. Without even realizing it.
She lurched toward the controls, yanked back the panel, and pulled something out of it.
Before he could ask what she’d done, the lift started to free fall.
He fell from his feet and tumbled into her, knocking her to the floor. For the second time that day, he fell right on top of her, chest-to-chest, face-to-face.
It didn’t count this time, though, because he was about to die.
Just as true terror tore through his chest, the lifts screeched to a halt, violent shudders ripping through the cabin.
Without realizing what he was doing, he pressed against her, fear locking his muscles in place.
With one more metallic screech, the lift stopped.
He let out a tortured, trapped breath, and it pushed Ava’s hair over her face.
Though his eyes were squeezed shut, as he opened them, he realized she was staring at him. “We don’t have much time.” She pushed into him.
It was then he realized he was still on top of her.
He fumbled to his feet. “What did you do to the lift?”
She was still holding onto the section of neuro wiring she’d pulled from the control panel.
“I pulled out the primary safety circuit.”
“You did what? Why?” he barked, heart pounding faster than a drum.
“To force the shaft to engage its magnetic brakes.”
He opened his mouth but stopped.
She’d just saved their lives.
The shaft had its own brakes to control the lifts in the case of a hull breach. The harmonic resonance of a ton of metal thundering down a damaged shaft could do untold damage.
Usually, the shaft’s mag brakes were overridden by the lift’s primary safety controls. Controls which were clearly faulty. If the mag brakes hadn’t already caught the plummeting lift before Ava had yanked out the safety controls, it meant they were sending inaccurate information to the shaft.
By pulling out the controls, Ava had saved them both.
Rather than point that out, he nodded at the comlink. “Put in a call immediately.”
“We need to get out of here,” she overrode him.
“We’re fine now the shaft mag brakes have engaged. They’ll hold us here until help arrives.”
“The mag brakes are groaning.” She pointed toward the door. “Listen carefully.”
As he calmed his rocketing breath long enough, he heard it.
Metal fatigue. There was a fine but perceptible shudder vibrating through the lift floor.
“We need to open those doors.” She pointed at them.
“They’ll open onto a shaft wall.”
“There’s a chance they’ll open onto a maintenance hatch or an open deck.”
“A single chance in hell,” he spat.
“It’s all we’ve got.” She shifted past him and considered the controls warily.
“I wouldn’t touch them,” he warned.
“I don’t intend to.” She grabbed the open panel and tried to tug it from the wall.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to use this as a lever to pry the doors open,” she struggled through her words as she tried but failed to pull the panel off.
He kicked into action, grabbed the panel, and yanked it free with a single move.
He doubted this would work. His thundering heart beat told him they were seconds from death, but he still anchored the sharp end of the panel into the smooth door seam and pulled.
It was agony fighting against the door’s mechanism, but with a guttural grunt, he managed to pry the doors back a centimeter.
Instantly Ava stepped in by his side and crammed her fingers into the small gap, leaning back and pulling with all her might.
For all it was worth.
She was barely helping him. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t give up, and with another stomach shaking grunt, he pulled the doors open an inch.
In front of him, he saw nothing but the smooth silver walls of the shaft.
Above, however, he saw a dark recess. Right at the top of the doors, there was a 40cm gap that led into an access shaft.
“Christ,” he spat as he grabbed the side of the door and started pulling with all his might.
The lift started to shudder more and more, every vibration more violent than the next.
They had seconds.
With one final gut-wrenching pull, he opened the doors. Then he jumped, caught the lip of the access tunnel, and pulled himself up and into it with a single strong move.
He waited for Ava to do the same, expecting her to be right by his side.
She wasn’t.
Though she tried to jump for the access tunnel, she fell short.
“Move,” he bellowed as the lift gave a grating groan.
She tried to jump for the access tunnel once more.
He jerked a hand down and caught her. Locking one hand onto the lip of the tunnel around him, he pulled her up.
Just in time.
The lift fell, the mag locks failing in a hail of sparks.
As the top of the lift sailed past the access tunnel, it sliced off a lock of Ava’s hair and caught the side of her right armlet.
She was flung back into him.
He locked an arm around her and pulled her back into the access tunnel, as far below the lift impacted the cradle with a jaw-shuddering bang.
He didn’t stop pulling her back until they were several meters away.
Then he realized they’d just dodged death.
A second later, and they’d have been liquefied at the bottom of the shaft.
She breathed against his arm, and his chest pushed hard into her back as he struggled for air.
He sat there for god knows how long until she gently placed a hand on his arm. Her cold armlets brushed against the bare skin of his wrists.
It shocked him to his senses.
Though the access shaft wasn’t tall enough for him to stand in, he pushed to his feet nonetheless and crouched with a hand locked on the wall.
He looked down at her as she pushed unsteadily to her feet.
“Are you alright?” he asked, words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.
She nodded slowly. “You?”
“Fine. But Christ, what the hell just happened back there?”
“I guess there was a critical flaw in the safety program.”
“Critical flaw. More like fatal flaw. This ship’s a death trap. Now, you sure you’re alright? Hey, wait – you’re bleeding,” he realized as a bloom of blood slicked down her fingers.
She brought up her right arm. “The side of the lift caught me as it fell.” She revealed her wrist. A chunk of flesh was missing, the sides charred and mangled.
He recoiled. “Just hold onto it. There’ll be a med kit around here somewhere. In the meantime, use this.” He dug a finger into one of his sleeves, loosening the stitching, then he yanked on his cuff and ripped the sleeve off. “Hold it tightly against your wound and concentrate on your breathing to distract from the pain.”
“It’s okay,” she assured him, “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
Before he could point out a chunk of her wrist was missing, she pushed past him with a nod. “We should make it to a comlink to warn B’cal.”
He paled as he realized she was right.
“You go ahead and find one – I’ll follow.” She nodded.
“I’m not leaving you behind,” he snapped, words instinctual. The same instinct that had seen him catch her in the lift and pull her into the access panel.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll be too slow, though. Lieutenant, it’s more important to warn B’cal so he can stop all the other lifts. Just go.”
Reason told him she was right, but something else – something he couldn’t put his finger on – told him to stay.
Eventually, reason won out. “You shouldn’t move too much with that injury. I’ll find a comlink, find a med kit, and meet you back here. Head along the tunnel until you reach a blast door. Close it so you’re shut off from the lift section, and wait for me. You’ll be fine,” he added needlessly as he backed off down the tunnel without turning from her.
She nodded once. “Go.”
So he went.