The Grey Serpent, Tundran Space, Standard Year 404 after founding

  Alanna dreamed of fire. The ghostly green figures kept coming for her, joined by the silver reflection of light off black Tundran uniforms. The figures were everywhere, too many to count and she had no gun, no weapon to stop them. But it didn’t matter, because of the fire. The figures kept rising up and the walls of flame kept coming, over and over again, destroying them all until there was nothing left and she stood in a field of ash. The fire was coming for them. It was coming from them all. “I’m coming for you all.” Bernard Berhnard’s voice echoed in her ears.

  “Let him come.”

  Alanna looked up into calm gray eyes, as James held out his hand.

  “Let him come.” James repeated.

  “Tell me you’re coming home alive.” Alanna said, walking into his arms. She took his hand and stepped closer, laying her head against his chest, hearing the strong, comforting beat of his heart against her cheek.

  “I’m coming home alive.” James said.

  “He’s coming for us all, James. I know he is.” Alanna whispered. “He’s coming for me.” Her voice rose, a note of hysteria ringing in her own ears. “What am I going to do?”

  “Save them.” James said, his arms tightening around her. “Win.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can. I’ll help you.”

  Alanna sat up in bed and dropped her head into her hands for a long minute. Oddly, once again, she missed her cell. She missed the sleeping bag James brought for her and the memories of being with him. And for the first time in her life, she found she didn’t want to sleep alone. The sound of Bernard’s voice echoed in her head. What if Danil got scared? What if he talked? Bernard had a way of getting people to talk. No one was better at it than him. What if he noticed Danil was behaving oddly? What if he got suspicious? What if… it had been so long. But she was going up against Bernard Bernhard. The monster of monsters. And she didn’t want to die. She wanted to return to James. She wanted to live. She wanted Bernard’s head, on a pike. But they didn’t requisition a pike. She lay back down onto the bed, staring at the darkened ceiling as thoughts swirled in her head. Her hand strayed to the small gold cuff at the top of her ear. Avalon gold. James would help.

  ---

  Sarayan military outpost orbiting Titan, Tundran Space, Standard Year 404 after founding

  President Lorelai Achly declared martial law. And Aster… Aster was missing. The eighth to disappear. Of course, they hadn’t really disappeared. Just like everyone who had ‘disappeared’ back home, Danil knew what happened to them. They all did. Aster had complained about their ration shortages one time too often, looked at Captain Bernhard the wrong way one too many times, and perhaps she spoke to the wrong crew member, when she should have kept her mouth shut. And now she disappeared. And they weren’t getting resupplied. They all knew that, just as they all knew what happened to their disappearing crew. The captain wouldn’t space them. That would be a waste. Whatever was left would be turned into rations when the time came.

  Danil wiped the sweat off his face and re-focused on his work. Mistakes were dangerous. There were a lot of mouths left to feed. And Aster was the last one foolish enough to act up. Everyone left knew better. Sooner or later, Captain Bernhard would need another reason to lower their numbers. It wasn’t the time to make mistakes. He swallowed nervously, thinking of the messages he had recently deleted from his account. If found, Alanna’s messages were a death sentence. Hell, even having a wrist comm and sending out messages was a death sentence. Hopefully just for himself, but with Captain Bernhard’s influence, one wrong step and the damage could reach all the way back to Saraya, to his family. Danil knew his captain. If he found out Danil tried to collude with Alanna Summers, Bernard Bernhard would make sure the debt was passed down to the family, and paid in full.

  “Need some help?” A voice asked at his back.

  Danil started, feeling the sweat pool in the small of his back, in spite of the mild dehydration caused by water shortages. Dammit. He really needed to get it together. “No thanks. I got this.” Danil paused. “Actually, I’m feeling restless. Let me help out by taking an extra shift. I can check on the turret guns.”

  The other man nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “Sure, I’ll let the captain know. If I were you, I’d be looking to score some bonus points too. What with Aster gone…” He paused, waiting to see if Danil would walk into the trap.

  “Happy to help.” Danil said.

  “Hmmm. Just make sure you don’t get lost up there.” The other man said with a grunt, turning to walk away.

  Danil nodded, maintaining his silence. In addition to the eight crew members who had disappeared, there was Bryce. Good old Bryce, who one day went out on a space walk and never came back. On the one hand, one less mouth to feed. On the other hand, less meat. Now that he thought about it, a nice long spacewalk was starting to sound downright appealing. ‘This is how we get them out alive’ Alanna said. And for the miners of D12, she did. Danil had read the stories from the privacy of his bunk, putting his life in his hands by taking out the hidden wrist comm. And it had been worth it. The wrist comm was his one thin connection to home, civilization, and some semblance of sanity. When D12 was taken by the Tundrans, he read every story he could find.

  And just like every other Sarayan, when he saw her green eyes looking at the camera, renouncing her loyalty to her people, he hated her. A worthless orphan, with no loyalties. No one by the name of Summers served on their crew, but he felt pity for any Summers serving in the Sarayan military. Someone needed to take the blame. And the orphans were always an easy target. He wondered how Alanna felt about that. She knew the consequences of her actions as well as he did. She didn’t look particularly thrilled, but renounce she did. Right down to declaring her loyalty to the Tundran people. Alanna renounced. She was no longer Sarayan, and she would choose the Tundrans over them. That was a given. But a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, if he had continued serving with Alanna, instead of taking the “career making opportunity” to serve with Captain Bernhard. What it would have been like, to be a member of the D12 crew. What it would have been like, to go home. Not that any of it was up to him, not really. He was enlisted and he went where the Sarayan government sent him. It was why he had been on Titan station. Danil rarely had the opportunity to make a choice. But it was his choice to follow Alanna. His choice to take the Tundran ship. He was one of the forty three. And when it was all over, they went home.

  Danil sighed. She would let every single one of them die before risking a single Tundran life. He knew that. And if she hesitated, the Tundrans would kill her for it. He knew that, too. And yet, she said she would bring them home alive. She once got them off Titan, alive. Forty three out of thousands. And they went home alive. The miners of D12 went home, alive. How many other Sarayan outposts had the Tundrans hit? How many dead? And what were the odds of every single member of the D12 crew, going home alive? Danil paused, scratching the back of his neck before continuing to clear the calcified crust from the waste recycling unit. Singularly unpleasant, but it needed to be done. Without effective waste recycling, what little liquid they had left would disappear. And dehydration killed faster than starvation. “One more time, lieutenant.” He whispered softly, under his breath. With renewed patience, he returned to work. And waited.

  ---

  Tundran Space, The Grey Serpent, Standard Year 404 after founding

  “Tony, wake up. Wake up.” Alanna repeated, looking around surreptitiously. She was trying to keep her voice to a low but intense whisper, hoping to avoid the attention of other crew members while actually getting the bastard to wake up. It wasn’t working. With great reluctance she raised her hand and reached for his shoulder. A fraction of a second later, his hands were squeezing her windpipe as her head banged painfully against the side of the lower bunk. Right. That was obviously coming. Alanna forced herself to go limp and hoped for the best.

  “God dammit.” Tony hissed, releasing her throat a few long seconds later. “What in the ever living hell were you thinking?”

  “That you’re a surprisingly deep sleeper.” Alanna hissed back, trying to swallow and relieved to find that she still could, without too much pain. “I need to talk to you.”

  “What time is it?”

  Alanna winced. “Five-ish?”

  “James isn’t this good of a friend.” Tony muttered in sleepy exasperation. “It can’t possibly be worth this.”

  “I’ve been up for hours.”

  “That sounds like a you problem.”

  “We need to talk.” Alanna repeated stubbornly.

  “Fine, talk fast. I want to go back to sleep.”

  “Privately.” Alanna said, refusing to back down.

  “By all means, step into my office.” Tony said sarcastically.

  “The training room.” Alanna said, leading the way.

  With a deep suffering sigh, Tony followed, pausing briefly to splash water on his face and grab a much needed cup of coffee. A few minutes later, they were sitting across from each other, backs against the two rear posts of the triangular post formation. Fortunately, the practice rounds were relatively silent and didn’t interfere with their conversation.

  “I think he’s going to blow up the station.” Alanna said, getting straight to the point.

  Tony frowned, taking out four Sarayans in quick succession as he tried to process her words. “You mean Bernard?”

  “Yes. If he thinks we’re winning, he’s going to blow up the entire station.”

  “He’ll kill his own people?” Tony asked, doubt heavy in his voice.

  “Yes. And he’ll take most of the Tundrans on this ship along with them. Including us.”

  “It’s not what Sarayans do.” Tony shook his head, taking out two more enemy soldiers.

  “I know.” Alanna leaned forward, ignoring the beams of red light dancing across her skin as she took imaginary hits from an enemy that wasn’t real. “But Bernard will.”

  “You’re ruining our score.” Tony said sourly.

  “I. Don’t. Care.”

  Tony paused, taking a few hits as he focused on the problem. “The captain won’t buy it.” He said.

  “I know.” Alanna repeated.

  Acting mostly on autopilot, Tony took out three more soldiers that were aiming for Alanna. “Let’s say we get the captain to believe you. What’s the plan?”

  “We need to make Bernard believe he’s winning and take the bridge before he realizes his mistake. The self destruct sequence will be activated from the bridge.” Alanna paused. “I think.” She added. “The only way to be sure is to take out Bernard.”

  “Before he realizes we’re winning.” Tony repeated.

  “Right.”

  “Can Danil take the bridge?” Tony asked.

  “Alone? Of course not.”

  “Can he draw Bernard away from the bridge?”

  “During an attack?” Alanna shook her head. “No chance.”

  “We’re sending the bomb. Any chance he can take out Bernard with the bomb?”

  Alanna thought about it. “I don’t think so.” She said reluctantly. “I was thinking the bomb would go into the break room.”

  “So why not set it off while he’s having his meal?”

  Alanna shook her head. “We can ask, but my guess is he eats in his quarters.”

  “Can it be planted on the bridge?”

  “It’s not that small of a bomb.” Alanna pointed out. “And Danil has no business on the bridge.”

  “Damn.” Tony said softly. He was getting a truly awful feeling about this. And it wasn’t just because he was up at five in the morning.

  “Ask James.” Alanna said. “Please. I need his help.”

  “James is not magic. He can’t just solve every problem and save you.”

  “Yes. Yes, he is. And yes, he can.” Alanna crossed her arms.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “Fine.” Tony said in resignation. “Do some shooting and make this look respectable, will you?”

  With a shrug, Alanna got up and moved into the foremost position, re-focusing on her shooting.

  ---

  Sarayan Space, Standard Year 404 after founding

  The ceiling was moving. James blinked. They called it uncontrollable shivering for a reason, he reminded himself. That meant it could not be controlled. If he tried to control it and succeeded, it would not be uncontrollable.

  “James, please drink the water.” Clara repeated for the twelfth time. “You’re going to get dehydrated.” She looked over at Henry helplessly.

  “He’s burning up.” Henry said, stating the obvious. They didn’t have a thermometer on board. There was no way to know whether the fever was merely high or potentially deadly. “We can call the Black Hawk to pick us up sooner and…”

  “No.” James interrupted. “Hold course.”

  Clara and Henry exchanged a look over his prone body, laying stretched out between them in the cramped shuttle.

  “Drink the water and we’ll hold course.” Clara tried.

  Ignoring the moving ceiling, and the walls that weren’t much better, James reached for their last flask of water and tried to hold it as he drank, reluctantly allowing Clara to steady the bottle. Gagging at the taste, he breathed deep and forced himself to hold down a few sips, pushing it away as Clara tried to get him to drink more.

  “I’ll throw it back up.” He said shortly. It was only a few hours to the Black Hawk. All they had to do, was wait. He closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him under, when the first buzz of his wrist comm pulled him back to semi-consciousness.

  “James, take off the wrist comm.” Henry said, trying to keep his voice calm as he woke up from his half doze. “You’re in no condition to use it.”

  James blinked up at the ceiling and considered his situation, which was admittedly precarious. With effort, he held the wrist comm in front of his face and tried to make out the letters of the message as they swam in front of his eyes. The shivering was especially unfortunate.

  “I’ll read it.” Clara offered.

  James took another long minute trying to focus before reluctantly removing his wrist comm and handing it to Clara.

  “It’s from Tony. He says Alanna believes Bernard will set the station to self destruct if the Tundrans are winning. She’s asking for…” Clara paused, swallowing.

  “What?” James asked, teeth chattering.

  “Um.” Clara looked down at James, shivering with fever and quite likely delirious.

  “She’s asking for what, Clara?” James repeated.

  Henry grabbed the wrist comm from Clara and read the messages. He shook his head slightly, looking down at James and remaining stubbornly silent.

  Delicate swirls of gray metal moved across the ceiling, like dangerous rip currents under the water, waiting to pull him under. The situation was indeed unfortunate, and his options were limited. With effort, James forced himself to sit up, his back supported by the shuttle wall behind him. “Return the wrist comm.” James said, his eyes on Henry.

  “James, we’ll be back on the Black Hawk soon.” Henry said imploringly. “You’re in no condition…” He froze, finding himself suddenly staring down the barrel of James’s gun.

  Clara stared down into the barrel of the gun James was pointing in their direction. His hands were shaking as the fever racked his body, but at that distance, there was plenty of room for error. Even sick as he was, at this distance, he wasn’t likely to miss. “James, did you double check that setting?” She asked nervously.

  “Yes Clara, I did. And I will shoot you both if I have to. Return the wrist comm.”

  Taking the wrist comm from Henry’s suddenly limp fingers, Clara slid it back towards James.

  James blinked. Splitting his attention between the two of them and the wrist comm screen was, realistically, beyond his current capabilities. “Clara, what did Alanna ask?” He repeated.

  “She asked for your advice.” Clara said reluctantly.

  James ignored the spike in his heart rate, which was already drumming in his ears. “I’m going to send one text. And if either of you tries anything, I will shoot.” He said, reaching for his wrist comm.

  Clara and Henry exchanged glances across the small space, but neither of them moved. The memory of recovering from a stun round was especially fresh in Henry’s mind. He was willing to accept the risk of James sending one text.

  “Now give it back.” Clara said sharply.

  James paused for another long moment, staring at the wrist comm in front of him.

  “James Madison Hawk!” Clara snapped. “You promised.”

  “I think… I think I need to send one more text.” James said slowly. The floor rippled. Dangerous rip currents swirled under the surface and the ship’s alarm went off, signaling the need to turn back. Signaling danger…

  “Two Sarayan ships.” Henry snapped, his face pale.

  “Engage all engines.” James said, his voice coming out with surprising clarity. “Signal our ships to move in.”

  Henry and Clara moved as one. Following James’s orders was too ingrained for either of them to hesitate. The stone shell encasing their shuttle fell away, and all hope of camouflage fell away with it. They had no shields, and limited maneuverability. Their only chance now, was speed.

  “Suit up.” James said, waving an irritated hand as Clara and Henry moved to help him put on his own space suit.

  Clara sighed as she picked up her helmet. There was no way to fix the glass. The helmet was patched to protect her from the vacuum of space, but her visibility was nonexistent.

  “Put it on.” James said.

  “About eighteen minutes until they’re in shooting range.” Henry said. “The Black Hawk is twenty two minutes away.”

  “Tell them to go as fast as they can.” James said. “Clara, put your helmet on.”

  “I will when I need to.” Clara said. “Give me the wrist comm.”

  “You know it doesn’t matter now.” James said quietly. “They already know we’re here.”

  “I know.” Clara agreed. “Let me send the text for you. You can barely type.”

  James nodded, holding out his wrist comm. He avoided Henry’s eyes as he read out the message.

  Clara stared at him, eyes wide. “James, are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” James said, without hesitation. The adrenaline was rushing through his veins now, and the tremors had receded. He turned back to Henry, focusing on the next problem. “News from the Black Hawk? Can they get here faster?”

  “No.” Henry said, his eyes grim. Four minutes were just a brief moment in time. But today, four minutes were the difference between life and death. The Black Hawk wouldn’t get there in time.

  James nodded. “When the time comes, we eject and blow up the shuttle. Henry, we need to time it right, so they think that they did it themselves. Tell the Black Hawk to pick us up.” He left the rest unsaid. The Black Hawk would pick them up… if they could. If there was anything left.

  “Yes, captain.” Henry said simply.

  “Clara.” James turned to her.

  “Sixteen more minutes!” Clara snapped. “I will put on the damn helmet when the time comes.”

  James nodded, acknowledging that it was her decision. They stared at each other across the now familiar interior of the shuttle.

  “Tell Lily I love her.” Henry said quietly. “Just in case. The kids… the kids will understand.”

  James leaned over and squeezed Henry’s shoulder. “You’ll tell her yourself.” He said firmly. “Get as much data as you can on the Sarayan ships and send it to the Black Hawk. And I need to know if the other Tundran ships are coming or if it’s going to be two Sarayan ships against the Black Hawk alone. I need to know before we engage.”

  Henry nodded, re-focusing on the task at hand.

  “One of our ships can be here in twenty eight minutes.” Clara said, reading off the messages. The other is further, over an hour away.”

  James frowned, trying to sit up straighter. “Tell them to stop sending comms back to us.” He said tensely. “We’ve already attracted two Sarayan ships. There may be more in the area.”

  Clara nodded. “On it.” She said.

  “Henry.” James took a breath. “Listen to me. I can’t do it in my condition, but you can. If you time it correctly, if they think they blew up the shuttle, we can survive a few minutes in open space. A few hours, if we need to. The Sarayans aren’t likely to start shooting at the debris. It’s more important for the Black Hawk to have backup before they engage. Tell Arthur to wait for backup. Do not engage two on one. Wait for the second Tundran ship.”

  “I’ll time it correctly.” Henry said simply. There was nothing else to say.

  “I’m sorry I threatened to shoot you.” James offered, his face now invisible behind the dark glass of his helmet.

  “Well, you’re in love.” Henry said. “It happens. I just hope it was worth it.”

  Clara looked down, avoiding Henry’s gaze.

  “What was the first message, anyway?” Henry asked, pinning Clara with his gaze. They all knew what the second message was, but Henry never saw the first text.

  “Incoming.” Clara snapped, putting on her helmet and bracing herself as the first shot from the Sarayan ship grazed their tiny shuttle. They should have had six more minutes. The Sarayans must have done something to speed up their engines and reach them faster. The world went black as she was ejected out into space, whatever view she may have had cut off by the dark patch across her face. And then the world was silence, as Clara floated weightless in space, still conscious, with nothing but time to reconsider her life choices.

  ---

  “Has he responded yet?” Alanna asked, taking out five of the seven Sarayans during the infamous swarm, with no help whatsoever from one Tony Sicaro.

  “No.” Tony said shortly, stretching out his feet and yawning. “I may need more coffee.”

  “It’s been a while.” Alanna said nervously.

  “Well, it’s not a simple request.” Tony pointed out. “What’s he gonna do, send a one liner telling you how to take the Sarayan station single handed?”

  The simulation had come to an end, and Alanna walked back towards Tony, sitting down across from him. “Then we need to figure it out on our own.” She said.

  Tony nodded, looking as if he were about to say something when a buzz from his wrist comm interrupted his train of thought. He looked down, his face expressionless for a long moment.

  “What did he say?” Alanna asked impatiently.

  “Who?” Tony asked, looking back up.

  “Seriously? Just tell me what he said.”

  “Nothing.” Tony said, his eyes meeting hers. “That was someone else. I have other friends. What were you saying? About figuring this out on our own?”

  “I want to know what James said.” Alanna said, crossing her arms.

  “Now you want to follow orders?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s hear your plan first.” Tony said flatly.

  Alanna tried to focus. The room was blessedly quiet now, and Tony seemed uninclined to turn on another simulation. “If all goes well, with Danil’s help, a good number of the crew will be out of commission.” She said out loud. “And if that fails…”

  “If that fails, you’ll probably be dead.” Tony interrupted. “So, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Alanna swallowed, trying to ignore the lurch of fear in her stomach. So much of this was entirely outside of her control. “Fine.” She said out loud. “Let’s say Danil succeeds. And Berhard will have run through some of his troops already.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He’s going to enforce discipline.” Alanna said with certainty. “And he’ll do it the really old fashioned way. Some people won’t come back from that. So, between Danil and Bernard, let’s say half the crew are gone.” She continued, ignoring the fact that Tony looked like he wanted to interrupt. “Based on the size of the crew, you’re going in with twice the people, which is about what Bernard will expect. His people are well trained but…” Alanna spread her hands across the practice room. “Probably not this well trained. We’ll have armor?”

  “Yes.” Tony confirmed.

  “Drones?”

  “Yes.” Tony nodded again.

  Alanna winced. “If I’m Bernard Bernhard, looking at those odds, I’m thinking I’m going to lose.”

  “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say he’s thinking of blowing up the station. How long do we have?”

  Alanna shook her head. “Not long enough.” She said. “We need to slow down the Tundrans.”

  “We’re Tundran.” Tony reminded her, trying to hold on to his fraying patience.

  “Fine. We need to slow down the other Tundrans. Can we convince the captain to let us go in first?”

  Tony frowned, realized he was looking back down at his wrist comm and forced his eyes back up to Alanna. God damn but he was not at his best in the morning. “You want to tell the captain to send the two of us ahead to go onto a Sarayan station with no backup, meet a second Sarayan, and leave the other Tundrans behind, because reasons.” Tony said. “And do not” he held up his hand “do not say because Captain B whatever will blow up the station. Because frankly, it sounds like implausible, made up bullshit. And if you set that aside…”

  “It sounds like I’m setting you up.” Alanna said quietly.

  “It sure does.” Tony agreed.

  “Do you think I’m setting you up?" Alanna asked.

  Tony resisted the urge to look down at his wrist comm.

  “Does James?” She asked. Everything about her seemed to change, as if she grew just a little bit smaller. “Does he?” She repeated. She didn’t raise her voice or get angry, she just seemed to lose whatever it was that kept her going, leaving behind something that was… less.

  The soft buzz of another text echoed softly in the silent room. Tony looked down at his wrist comm.

  Alanna frowned. If looks could kill, whoever Tony was looking at would be dead. “Does he?” She repeated, refusing to look away.

  “No.” Tony said grimly, staring down at the text on his wrist comm. “No, he does not.”

  “Will you tell me what he said?”

  Tony looked up at her. “If you go onto that station and betray us, you better make damn sure you don’t come back alive. You won’t like what happens if you do.”

  “Given.” Alanna said without hesitation. “What did James say?”

  ---

  “I think he passed out.” Henry said, his eyes searching the view screen of the Black Hawk as if he could somehow make out James Hawk’s form amongst the debris that was all that remained of two Sarayan ships and one very small Tundran shuttle.

  “We don’t have much time.” Arthur said, his eyes scanning the viewscreen. “Sarayan reinforcements are coming.”

  “We run.” Henry said, turning away. “Let them come and find nothing but debris.”

  “Captain…” Arthur began. But there was nothing to say. “Yes, Captain.” He said quietly.

  Henry smiled slightly. “Twelve hours of oxygen and heating in that crap Sarayan space suit, Arthur. It’s not over yet. Put me on to the other ships.”

  Arthur nodded, acknowledging his respect for the new captain. “You’re on, captain.”

  “Whose engine is in the best shape?” Henry asked bluntly. “It’s not ours.”

  “We got you.” The sound of Captain Hadad came through. “Leave now and let us draw out the Sarayan reinforcements. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Henry nodded, turning away from the screen. “We’re coming back soon.” He said to the crew. And they were. He looked away from Clara’s concerned gaze. James would just have to hold on.

  ---

  By the time James returned to consciousness, he wasn’t sure if his space suit had been pierced or if it was just the fever, but the shivers were worse. Much worse. The darkness of space spun around him, the universe filled with stars and debris. There was something he should be doing, but he couldn’t quite think of what it was. He spun, and the cloud of debris spun with him. The edge of a wing clipped his side, sending him into a faster spin. Somewhere on the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw the other ships move in. Sarayan ships. Sound didn’t carry in the emptiness of space, but he saw the flashes of light that signaled shots being fired.

  It wasn’t her words that came back to him, it was the song. He hummed it quietly under his breath, remembering the way her voice caressed each word.

  Through many dangers, toils, and snares,

  I have already come;

  ’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,

  And grace will lead me home.

  The Lord has promised good to me,

  His Word my hope secures;

  He will my Shield and Portion be,

  As long as life endures.

  When we’ve been there ten thousand years

  “Captain. Captain! James you goddamn bastard. Turn on your goddamn comm NOW you son of a bitch!” James blinked blearily as Clara’s sharp voice interrupted the song. The world was still spinning. There was nothing that he wanted to say, but the view was growing on him. His throat wasn’t working quite right, but he opened the encrypted Black Hawk channel, just to share the view.

  “We have him.” Brin said.

  “On my way.” Arthur called back from the shuttle, moving towards the bay doors as they began to open.

  Henry sagged against the console with relief, not caring if the rest of the crew saw. James had turned on the visuals of his space suit, allowing them to track his location. And he was alive. He turned back to Clara, seeing his relief mirrored in her tired blue eyes. “I think it was that last son of a bitch that did it.” He said with a grin.

  “Can’t go wrong with that.” Clara agreed, laughing with relief.

  “So, what the was that damn text he sent?” Henry asked.

  “Tundran shuttle xplode.” Clara said, and laughed harder.

  “Tundran shuttle… xplode?” Henry repeated hesitantly.

  “That’s what he sent.”

  “Huh.” Henry said. “And the rest of it?”

  Clara lowered her voice further and leaned closer to Henry. “Oh yeah, the rest of it went out just like he said.”

  “Well.” Henry nodded, refocusing on the Black Hawk viewscreen. “Let’s go get our captain to the med bay and get everyone home alive. Gonna be worth it just to see what Alanna did with that one.”

  --

  “Do not put me under.” James said as soon as his helmet was removed, his words unexpectedly lucid in spite of the tremors racking his body.

  Clara sighed. The helmet was slightly dinged by passing debris but still miraculously intact.

  “Clara, that is an order. Do you understand? Whatever treatment is needed, can be completed without putting me under. Where’s the damn doctor?”

  “We need to operate on the arm.” The Black Hawk’s doctor stepped forward. “Any movement may lead to unnecessary tissue damage and…” He blinked as James lunged towards him.

  “If the best course of treatment…” Clara begun.

  “If the captain says he’s staying awake through the surgery, he’s staying awake.” The doctor interrupted, carefully dislodging James’s good arm from his shirt and pressing him back onto the gurney. “Please help me finish removing the space suit and get him prepped.”