Page 32 of Across The Stars
“How are we getting off the freighter?” I said.
People always said the universe provided and when the whole ship quaked around us for the tenth time, I noticed it just had. Looking out through one of the tiny, round windows behind Sam’s head, I saw a wall of flames and debris where another sypher crate had broken loose and smashed the other against the wall. Pink fire rose up in a plume of heat, destroying the metal layers.
“Fuck. Shit!” Sam said, running her fingers tightly through her hair.
“Calm down and shut up!” Quinn said.
“No, you don’t get it. We’re going to die.”
“That’s—”
“Zen?” Quinn said.
“What’s Zen?” I asked.
“Yes, Quinn?” a computer spoke. Sam and I shot each other wide-eyed looks.
“Get me access to any defensive weapons on this transport,” Quinn said.
“This transport has no defensive weaponry installed.”
“Whatdowe have? I need an explosion.”
“Two spare chemical canisters can be ejected and ignited.”
“Do it.”
Just like that, I felt a thump under my feet as the freighter’s electricity suddenly went dark. Two little pill-shaped pods slid out from the bottom of the ship, rolled toward the flames, and exploded against the already weakened wall. I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. And I kept them shut, trusting Quinn to do what I couldn’t. Pilot a damn ship.
“Hang on!” Quinn yelled over the ruckus.
The transport suddenly rose off the ground as a giant hole appeared in the side of the cargo bay, leading out into the black of space. I clenched my teeth as Quinn squeezed through the hole and slipped out of the freighter, but we weren’t out of the woods yet.
Quinn pursed her lips, her eyes wide and unblinking. She looked at the control panel as soon as we were out of the cargo bay, but debris was floating all around us, weightless and battered and flying every which way, knocking into us from all directions.
“Ah, fuck!” she said. “God dammit! Piss in a goddamn pot and shit on my head.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing! I’m just really stressed out! We’re getting bullied by debris out here and this thing only has shields for atmospheric entry. It’s not a damn battleship.”
I couldn’t even begin to interpret what she was feeling. She kept swiping through commands on the control screens so fast that I couldn’t keep up.
“Shields at 30%,” Zen informed.
“I’m about to do something stupid,” she said.
“Stupid is fine if you think it’ll get us out of this mess!” I shouted.
“Zen!” Quinn said. “We’re in danger. Steer us toward the best path and get us the fuck out of here.”
“Yes, Quinn,” he replied.
I tightened my seat straps, as if they could be any tighter, and held on for dear life.
“Does this thing have FTL?” I asked.
“Nope. Just lightspeed,” Quinn said. “It’s an antique. It’ll have to do.”
