23

Control

Harris watched Doc walk back in with Welles following behind. Her eyes were red. It was clear she’d been crying, but her face now held a stony resolve.

“Coffee?” he asked, staring at them both.

Doc turned and headed for the machine and Welles followed, avoiding eye contact with McKinley and Brown. They poured themselves coffee, then Doc walked back to stand near Harris’s desk.

“Okay,” Harris announced, “this is where we’re at. Let me first reiterate that we did not know about any of this until now. Nor do we have any plans to hand anyone over to the survivors. We are a team. That’s the way we came here, and that’s the way we’re going to leave this place. Do you understand me, Sergeant Packham, Corporal Welles?”

They both nodded to him, Welles doing so awkwardly.

“Good,” he said firmly. “Now, make no mistake, we are caught up in a game, here. We saw the monitors on the secret floor; they’ve been watching us the whole time, attacking us one minute, then hiding the next. They had the whole crew hidden up there. They’ve been playing with us.

“The way I see it, we have three choices. Our escape pods are useless to us, because like the Aurora, they don’t have enough power. So option one, we lock down the Aurora and sit tight until the other team gets here. But as I said, that will mean just under two days in the dark with no air temperature control and hoping to hell that Hunter and Colt cope without their pods. Option two, we wait on the Darwin until the other team gets here. If we all stick together in one of the smaller areas, with a lot of guns, hopefully they won’t come at us, although again we have the issue of Hunter and Colt and their pods. Or, option three, we go to the control room, regain our access, and sit tight until the Aurora has enough power to get us out of here. Either way, with three or possibly four of them still out there that we know of, it’s too risky for us to try and find them and take them down. In my eyes, the strategy is no longer one of offense, but one of defense. That is now our game-play. So, what is it going to be? I want everyone’s vote on this.” He sat back in his chair and looked around at them.

Packham spoke up first. “Maybe we should just sit tight, here. We’ll have food and water, and we can look out for Hunter and Colt, and they can’t get to us.”

Brown shook his head in disagreement. “I say we go to the control room, get our power back and fuck the hell off this place.”

Harris looked at McKinley, raising his eyebrows in question. His second lieutenant stared back with determined eyes.

“I say we go to the control room and get our power, and you put me on guard so I can kill those fucks, like I did Grolsh!”

Harris turned to Welles. She was eyeing McKinley, who was now staring back at her in return.

“And you?” Harris prompted her.

She looked at Harris for a moment, then down at her coffee. “Who’s to say that the other team aren’t coming here to feed us to them?”

Packham shot her a look of surprise.

“They sent us here to be slaughtered, or … whatever,” Welles continued. “Why would they rescue us, now? The mission hasn’t been completed and we know too much.”

“So what’s your vote?” Harris asked her.

She thought for a moment. “I’m with Brown and McKinley. We get our power and fly out of here.”

“And go where?” Harris asked. “You don’t think they’ll be looking for us?”

She seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged. “We go straight back to Earth, to the UNF. I’m sure there will be people interested in what we have to say.”

“She’s got a point,” Doc piped up. “This was a classified mission, we were under the radar, here. There are a lot of people who wouldn’t have known about this, nor approved of it.”

Harris nodded. “This was a classified mission, that’s true. But a classified mission signed off by Colonel Isaack.”

Welles shuffled uncomfortably. “My … my father might know some friendly faces we could talk to,” she offered.

“Your father?” Harris arched his eyebrow at her. “The retired colonel?” He noticed McKinley, Brown and Packham look at Welles curiously.

“He may be retired but he’s an Original, sir. He’s been around Space Duty since day one, he knows the UNF inside and out.” Welles stared back at him and gave a sad laugh. “He warned me, you know, not to trust anyone. But I think if there’s someone left to trust in the UNF, he’ll know about them. He’ll help us, if he can.”

Harris gave her a nod. “First we have to make it out of here.” He turned to look at Doc. “Your vote?”

Doc seemed to think things through for a moment. “I’m not comfortable waiting for the other team to get here. If Professor Martin sent them, then I don’t trust them.”

“So you want to try the control room?”

Doc nodded. “It’s the only option we’ve got that doesn’t involve the other team.”

Harris looked around at everyone. “You all know that we risk further casualties?”

They nodded.

“What’s your vote, captain?” McKinley asked.

“I don’t trust the other team, either,” he said. “The control room is our only option as far as I’m concerned, but I needed to know that you guys would back me on that.”

He saw Packham look down guiltily to her lap. He moved his eyes to Welles, whose face was a ball of concentration. She seemed to be mulling something over.

“Captain, I’ll go,” she spoke up suddenly.

Doc looked at her, as did the others.

She stared firmly back at Harris. “Think about it, it’s our only option. They won’t kill me. I’m the only one who can survive it. Packham has to fly the ship. Colt’s injured. I’m the only one left.”

Harris eyed her for a moment, noting her steely resolve, admiring her courage.

“And if they catch you?” he asked.

Doc spoke up. “Welles, if they catch you … it could be a lot worse than death.”

“So, I don’t let them catch me.”

Doc shook his head. “You can’t go on your own. You need someone to watch your back while you log into the systems. I’ll go with you.”

“No,” Harris said firmly, glancing at Doc. “You need to stay here and take care of Hunter and Colt. I’ll go. It’s my ship, my responsibility.”

“But Captain …” Welles went to protest.

“No, Welles,” he said firmly. “Doc’s right. You can’t break into the system and watch the corridor at the same time. You need back up. I’ll go with you.”

“I’m with you, captain,” McKinley said.

Harris gave him a nod.

“Hell, sign me up!” Brown offered.

“No, sergeant,” Harris said. “You need to help Packham get the Aurora back to Earth and we might not make it back to the ship. Even if we don’t succeed in getting power back to the Aurora, there is always a chance the other team may be genuine. If they are, I would like to see five members of my team make it out alive.”

Packham looked nervously over at Welles. Harris sat forward in his chair and studied her too. Welles’s neck was still purple, her eye partially bloodshot.

“You sure you’re up for this?” he asked her.

*

Carrie felt the adrenaline spiking through her body. She felt determined and strong, as though her anger had melded her flesh into steel. She nodded firmly at Harris. “The UNF may not think so, captain, but I assure you I am.”

*

Harris nodded. “And you have enough IT skills for Packham and Brown to coach you over the comms?”

“Yes, sir. If they tell me what to do, I’ll be fine.”

Harris nodded back in acceptance. “Brown, Packham? You know what you’re doing to get into their system?”

Packham nodded. “Smith showed me how to do it. All we need to do is connect the Darwin’s systems to the Aurora like we did before, then we should be able to work it out from the flight deck.”

Brown nodded in agreement.

Harris eyed them both. “Alright, then it’s done. Let’s get our shit together, people! Welles, I want a word with you. The rest of you, dismissed.”

Welles nodded at him, as McKinley, Brown and Packham left the room. Doc walked slowly to the door, eyeing the corporal. He stopped by her as though he was going to say something, but changed his mind and kept walking. After he left and closed the door, Harris looked down at his desk, thinking about what he wanted to say to her. She obviously thought it was about her earlier outburst because she started apologizing.

“I’m sorry about before, captain. I just … it was a shock. For all I knew you were in on it. But I believe you when you say that you didn’t know.”

He studied her. The steely resolve was still intact, her eye contact good.

“I’m glad about that Welles, because I don’t want to go out there with someone who doesn’t trust me and who I can’t trust in return. I need to know that you’ll do everything within your power … I need to know that I can rely on you to do what you need to do, when the time is right. See, I know McKinley will. We’ve been on the same team for a while now. We work well together, and I know I can trust him with my life. Can I trust you with my life?”

Welles looked offended, and was quick to reassure. “Of course you can, captain. You just haven’t given me the chance to prove it yet.”

Harris slumped back in his chair, sighing. “Yeah, well, I had my orders too …”

She gave him a strange look.

He stood and walked around the desk toward her. Placing his hands on his hips, he looked down at her, towering over her small frame.

“Do not lose your gun, Welles,” he told her.

“I won’t, captain,” she said.

“If you lose your gun, you’re as good as dead. You hear me?”

“I hear you, sir, but you don’t need to worry.”

“Welles, you are a great fuckin’ shot, but without a weapon you’re an easy target. You’re weak. You cannot lose your gun or turn your back for a second. It’s reality. You don’t stand a chance otherwise.”

He saw the corporal’s eyes flash stubbornly with anger.

“Welles, I could knock you through that fuckin’ door right now!” he said pointing to the door several feet behind her. “Hell, Smith would’ve knocked you through that door and he was half my size. These guys, these Jumbos, are twice as strong as I am. So, if you lose your gun, you better run, you hear me? I’m certainly not planning on losing mine. I want to make sure we’re real clear about that. I’m not picking on you, Welles, I’m trying to help you!”

She took a deep breath and nodded, the anger dissipating. “I understand, captain, but they have to take my gun first, and in order to do that they have to come within range.”

Harris couldn’t help but break a smile. He shook his head. “You got fire, Welles. I’ll give you that. You just make sure you channel that shit into your gun, and aim it at their heads.”

“I will, sir.”

He eyed her one last time, then gave a nod. “Go get ready.”

He watched as she left the room, all the while noticing that Sibbie and Etta had suddenly floated into his mind again, like feathers wafting in on a gentle breeze.

*

Carrie headed for the weapons store, her heart racing, her throat tight. She felt that surge of adrenaline flushing around in her veins, as the nerves danced in her belly. This was it. This was major. This was life or fucking death and the whole team was relying on her. She had to succeed. There was no other option.

When she reached the weapons store she saw Doc and McKinley standing close, talking, but they stopped abruptly as soon as she entered. She eyed them both quizzically. McKinley stared back at her while Doc took a headset from him and handed it to her. She took it as he gave her a soft smile and left the room.

McKinley walked up and handed her a laser-fire rifle.

“I’m keeping my handgun, too,” she told him.

“Good idea.” He walked over to a crate and pulled out a smaller pistol. He checked that it was loaded, grabbed its holster, then walked back to her.

“Take this, too. For the ankle,” he told her.

She took it from him and put it on. “What about one more for good luck?”

“No,” McKinley said standing in front of her. “Three’s enough. You wanna weigh yourself down, then do it with ammo. Besides … you don’t lose your gun, remember?”

She stared firmly into those piercing blue eyes of his. “Not yet, McKinley.”

“Good. So, just make sure you shoot straight.”

“And you make sure you shoot straighter and keep up,” she retorted.

He looked down at her for a moment, then smirked.

“So, you’re dad’s a colonel, huh? A fucking Original. Figures.” His smirk slowly turned into a smile. It was a friendly smile, a teasing smile, not like the smug ones she’d grown used to.

“So, your dad was a cop? That figures, too.” She smiled back.

He stared at her for a moment, trying to keep his smile to a minimum. “Grab some more ammo and you’re all set,” he said, breaking their stare.

“Yes, sir!” She smiled to herself, noting McKinley’s face as he registered the “sir”.

Harris, Doc, Brown and Packham entered the weapons store then. Harris moved over to collect some more ammo, while Doc handed out small pouches of a red liquid.

“It’s a concentrated sugar solution,” he told her. “It’s packed with vitamins and minerals, so if you start getting tired, suck one of these down. It’ll keep you going.”

There were six of them in all, and she slid them into her shirt pocket. Doc moved back and stood in the doorway, glancing over at her occasionally. He looked concerned and maybe a little disappointed that he wasn’t going with them. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to put him at ease. Most importantly, she wondered whether he could be of help to her in some way.

“Doc, can I have a word?” she asked.

He nodded, and she walked out of the weapons store and started down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” he asked, following.

“Your office.”

When she arrived, she found it open and paused at the doorway to the hospital. She saw five of their team lying there. Three of them covered in sheets. She felt a sudden stab of realization of what she was about to do.

Doc saw what she was looking at, then moved to stand in the doorway, blocking her vision. “What’s up?”

She looked down at the headset in her hands. “I was just wondering whether you had anything I could maybe use … if I should lose my gun? Which I shouldn’t, because I have three of them … but, you never know.”

“What do you mean, that you could use?”

“I don’t know, some drug, some chemical that I could maybe inject …”

“No. I’m not giving you something like that.” He walked past her and headed back for the main office door.

She grabbed his arm, “I don’t mean for me! I mean to stab them with, you know, if … if they get me. Although, if it came to it … I could use it on myself …” Her voice began to trail off.

He stared at her, his mind ticking over.

“Do you?” she asked.

“I have something,” he said looking into her eyes, “but I would need you to promise that you wouldn’t use it on yourself.”

Carrie glanced down at the floor, then back up at Doc. “I’m not sure I can promise that. You said it yourself, if they catch me … Doc, I hope to god that I don’t need to use it on myself, it would be a last resort. I’d try and use it on them first, but I can’t promise.”

He stared at her, mind ticking over. “Can you promise me that when you’re ready to use it, you’ll wait? Just wait another ten minutes. In case we’re coming to get you.”

She studied him for a moment. His eyes were intense.

“I could promise that, but I wouldn’t want you taking the risk to come and get me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Funny that, ’cause I don’t want to see you get hurt either,” he said firmly, locking eyes.

They stared at each other, as a slight air of awkwardness swirled about.

“We’ve … lost enough of our team already,” Doc said, glancing around the room avoiding eye contact for a moment.

Carrie nodded, feeling that lump trying to return to her throat. “Okay. I’ll promise. If it comes to that, then I’ll hold on, in case … in case you’re crazy enough to do that.”

“Crazy like you volunteering to do this? Or being crazy enough to hang around and wait for the other team? It’s crazy either way.”

She looked up at his face and fought the urge to touch his cheek. His brown eyes were looking into hers, still trying to say something she couldn’t figure out. She could feel the lump in her throat growing, and her chest felt tight. God, what is it about him?

“I’ll go and get it,” he said, disappearing into the examination room.

She followed and watched as he took three syringes and filled them up with a pink fluid from his cabinet. She placed her headset down on the bench, as he put the safety covers on each of the needles, then turned to her.

“There are three of them left, and there are three syringes,” he said, handing them to her.

And there are three of us going out there, she thought.

“Stab it anywhere, preferably the thigh muscle and pump it all in,” he continued. “You’ll have a couple of minutes to hold out before you should be able to get away.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He looked back at her, clenching his jaw. The urge to touch his face swept over her again. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that.

She took the three syringes and separated them, placing them in different pockets.

“Well, they’ll be waiting for you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

She nodded and headed for the door, but noticed that he wasn’t following her. She turned and saw him standing there, his jaw still clenched, looking at her with those eyes, like he desperately wanted to say something but couldn’t.

She felt a sudden urge wash over her to say “Why not?” She was going out there to face the unknown and there was a good chance she could die, so what did it matter right? This could be her only chance. And for once in her life, Carrie threw caution to the wind.

She hit the lever, closing the door between his examination room and office. He threw her a confused look.

“Doc,” she said walking back up to him, “if I don’t make it back …”

“You will, Welles. You will, and you have to keep telling yourself that!” he said firmly.

“But if I don’t …” her voice was soft and husky with nerves as she stood in front of him, “I just want to …”

“What?” he rested his hands on his hips and a strange look came across his face.

She took a moment, looking into his warm brown eyes, then down at his mouth. She quickly reached up, slid her hand over his cheek and kissed him. She closed her eyes, moved her mouth and kissed him again. Then she suddenly realized that he wasn’t kissing her back.

Her heart stopped, her eyes flashed open and she slowly pulled away. His face was expressionless. Her heart kick-started again and was almost belting out of her chest now. Oh, shit … What have I done?

“Sorry, Doc,” she mumbled, moving back from him. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” She turned to walk away, but his hand shot out and caught her arm. She glanced at his grasp, then back to his face.

He was looking down at the floor in front of him. “Welles … I can’t,” he said quietly.

“I know. I understand. I shouldn’t have. It’s okay, really …” she said, trying to free her arm from his grasp. She turned to walk off again, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, but his arm caught her around her waist and didn’t let go.

She looked back at him. “It’s okay, Doc. Don’t feel bad. It’s my fault, really. I shouldn’t have. It was just a stupid last minute thing … Heading off to die and all that …” The words continued to dribble from her mouth, like a verbal diarrhea.

He started reeling her in toward him. She was confused now. He was still looking at the ground, his brow furrowed but his arm brought her in very close, so that her body was almost against his.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said finally, his eyes showing signs of some internal struggle.

“Doing what?” she asked breathlessly, his face just centimeters from hers.

He pulled her tightly against him and kissed her back.

Carrie was stunned. It was firm but gentle, and took her breath away. He raised his free hand to her cheek and slowly pulled his face back. Their eyes connected, before she moved back in and they kissed again. It was like a chain reaction, as if they had started something that couldn’t be stopped. Her hands traveled up his arms, over his shoulders, and around his neck, as he moved her up against the bench behind them. The soft kiss was now deep, heavy, breathy.

But as quickly as the wave had formed, it rolled away. Doc placed his hands on her hips and moved himself back from her. They looked into each other’s eyes, as her hands fell back down to his arms.

“We’ll continue this conversation when you get back,” he said quietly.

She nodded. She couldn’t speak. She could’ve sworn Doc had stolen all the air from her lungs. He took another step back, their arms falling to their sides and he glanced over at the door.

“They’ll be waiting for you. You’d better go.”

She stood up straight, took a deep breath and nodded. She slowly headed over to where she had left her headset, brushing her body past Doc’s as she did, taking his hand in hers briefly. Then she walked out the door and didn’t look back.

*

“Welles, where the fuck have you been? We gotta go!” Harris barked upon her return.

“I got these off Doc,” she said holding up one of the syringes. “Just in case.”

“For you or for them?” McKinley asked, eyes narrowed in study.

“For them, I hope.”

“Test your comms,” Harris ordered.

She snapped the headset on around her left ear, plugging the earpiece within. “Flight deck, this is Corporal Welles. Do you copy? Over.” She spoke firmly into her mouthpiece.

“We copy you. Visuals are fine too. Over,” Packham’s voice answered.

Harris stared at the syringe, then locked eyes with her again. “Alright, let’s move out!”

She nodded, then followed Harris and McKinley to the exit of the Aurora.

*

Harris and his lieutenant sprang out of the doors, weapons held tightly in a cross-cover. Sensing it was clear, they quickly advanced to the Darwin’s entrance, as Welles followed closely behind, surveying the dock and its walls for shooters. Harris was hoping she was going to be able to handle this, but couldn’t stop to think about it right now. He had to trust that she would, and focus his mind on the Jumbos that awaited them.

Once inside the Darwin, they continued their formation slowly through Section One without incident. They noticed that Grolsh’s body was gone; all that remained was a trail of blood smeared along the floor, running parallel to that of Louis’s. They crept into Section Two and made their way slowly, but surely to the control room. It was a little too easy, he thought. He wondered whether a trap was being set, but pushed it from his mind. They had to get their power back and fast.

“We’ll guard the door, you get in there,” he told Welles. She gave a firm nod and quickly made her way to one of the consoles and took a seat.

“Okay, flight deck,” she said quietly over their headsets, “lay it on me.”

Packham and Brown coached Welles on how to get into the Darwin’s mainframe and its security files, and then how to enable a remote access link from the Aurora. She seemed to understand their instructions, which made the tension around Harris’s neck ease up just that little bit. It took about 20 minutes, but she did it and they now had access to try and crack the code from the flight deck.

Harris motioned for Welles to swap and take up his position on the door. He wanted to get a good look at what they were up against in terms of cracking that code, and figure out just how long they were going to have to guard the control room for. He took a seat at the console and eyed his soldiers standing watch at the door for a moment. McKinley and his gun faced west down the corridor, and Welles faced east. Although it looked somewhat like David and Goliath, it was actually a reassuring sight to have his two best shooters on guard. Nobody will make it past that line of defense!

Now it was just a waiting game, for Brown and Packham to crack the access. He looked at his watch. 04:53. It would be hours yet. They were in for a very long night and he was glad that Doc had given them the sugar concentrate. They were going to need it.

*

An hour passed without incident. Harris watched the monitor while Brown had the system going, cracking the code. It was made up of 12 characters, which could consist of a mixture of letters—English or foreign—numbers, and symbols. So far they had three locked in. At this rate it was going to be another three hours. He pulled out the pouches that Doc had given him, tore one off and downed it. It was sickly sweet and hurt his teeth. He winced, then stood and walked to the door.

“McKinley, take a break,” he ordered.

McKinley relaxed his gun and moved into the control room. He took a seat, put his feet up on the desk, and began to stretch out his neck and shoulders.

“How are you holding up?” Harris asked Welles.

She quickly glanced at him and nodded, then returned her eyes to the east corridor.

“You’ve been standing here an hour,” he said. “Take your sugar solution.”

“I’ll wait until I’m in there, sir,” she motioned to the control room. “I don’t want to drop my gun.”

“I got it. Take it,” he ordered her.

She lowered her gun for a moment, and poured one of the pouches into her mouth. She too, winced. Harris noted that his heart was beating faster now, the solution already working. He felt alive, he felt awake, he felt ready for anything. After a few minutes, he saw Welles glance over at him with wide eyes, nodding to herself. The solution had obviously begun working on her too.

“Good stuff, huh,” he said quietly.

“I feel like running a marathon,” she whispered back.

He gave a short, sharp laugh. “That’s the point of it.” He thought for a second, then dropped his smile and looked down at her small frame. “You probably should’ve only had half a pouch, if we’re having whole ones.”

Welles looked back at him and nodded. “Possibly. How long do they last?”

“A couple hours.”

Welles nodded again, staring down the corridor, eyes wide.

“Just watch your trigger finger,” Harris whispered.

*

Another hour passed without incident. He heard Brown say over the headsets that they now had seven characters, which meant there were only five to go. McKinley sucked down his first pouch and came over to relieve Welles on the door.

She went into the control room, sat down and eyed the monitor, but after a few minutes, Harris saw her get up and start looking around the room.

“Welles, sit the fuck down and rest your feet!” he said quietly, but firmly, into his mouthpiece.

She moved back over to the table and sat down.

“Put your feet up on the desk like McKinley did,” he ordered.

She did, but he could tell she wasn’t exactly relaxing, too wired from the solution still.

“That’s another one,” Brown announced over their headsets. “Four left.”

*

About 40 minutes passed. Brown had announced yet another two characters. Two left. Once Packham got the Aurora in, all Brown had to do was enable access for the Aurora to hook onto the external power source again and start charging, then reset the access code so the survivors couldn’t change it. At least, not for as long as it had taken their team to get their access back.

Harris estimated about another hour; then it was simply a matter of waiting until the Aurora had charged its power cells enough to get them back to Earth, or a nearby station, depending on how Hunter and Colt were holding up.

He looked back down the corridor. His body was starting to feel the sugar concentrate wearing off. He looked at his watch. 07:42. He was curious as to why the Jumbos had not tried to attack them yet. Perhaps they were waiting … giving us false hope. Letting us get near the end, then making their move when our guard is down thinking we’re home safe? This is a game, remember. They like to mind-fuck people.

He reached in his pocket and took out another pouch. He wanted to be ready for anything. He glanced down at the pouch and went to tear the top off, when he saw something dart across the corridor up ahead.

“Fuck! What was that?” he said, dropping it and swinging his gun up.

“What?” McKinley asked, eyes focused sharply down the east side of the corridor.

“I saw something. One of them … dart across the hall up ahead.”

McKinley brought his gun up tighter to his sight-line. It was deathly quiet for a few moments as they both scanned their sides of the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Welles sit up straight and look attentively at them.

McKinley suddenly fired down his side of the corridor.

“Fuck,” he whispered, obviously missing his target, “one just ran past my side.”

“Which one?” Harris asked.

“Didn’t recognize him. Ginger hair.”

“Oxer?”

One raced past Harris’s side again. He fired, and he too missed.

“That was Logan,” he said.

“What are they doing?” Welles asked, directly behind them now.

“Playing with us,” McKinley answered quietly, eyes fixed on the east corridor.

“Captain, I’ll relieve you now,” Welles said eagerly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told her, focusing on his sight-line.

She picked his pouch up off the floor and tucked it back in his pocket. A few minutes passed in complete silence.

“Just got another one! Can’t be much longer, captain,” Brown reassured him over the headsets.

Just then, Logan came running back across the hall, a laser-fire rifle in his hands, firing aimlessly in their direction. Harris and McKinley quickly pulled back into the room, knocking Welles out of the way in the process.

“Stay back!” Harris barked at her.

He ducked back around the doorway and aimed, but Logan was gone. Then from the opposite direction, Oxer ran past and shot at him. He ducked back into the room as laser fire hit the doorway.

“Jesus!” Harris said.

“Captain, I’ll go! I’ll lead them away!” Welles’s voice was edgy.

“No, Welles. Just sit tight!”

“But we’re so close! We can’t let them stop us. Let me lead them away.”

“Stand back, Welles, that’s an order.”

Brown’s voice came over their headsets then. “Captain, we just got the last number. We’re in. Packham’s just gotta grant us access and remove theirs. Hold ’em off,” he said anxiously over the headsets.

Harris reached in his pocket for his solution. He tore the top open and began to pour it in his mouth. More laser fire.

“They’re getting closer,” McKinley said. He quickly stepped out of the doorway and fired, then ducked back in.

Things went quiet again. Minutes passed and nothing. Harris and his lieutenant stood in the doorway, again. Watching. Waiting. Ready.

“Where’d they go?” Harris said, thinking aloud.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Welles was pacing right behind them in the control room.

“Is it just me or is it fuckin’ hot in here?” McKinley asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Harris suddenly realized just how hot he was, and wiped his saturated brow as well.

“They’ve turned up the heat,” he said, as he ducked back into the room. He quickly removed his bullaser vest and long-sleeved shirt, then placed the vest back on over his singlet. When he was done, McKinley followed suit.

Just then they heard smashing glass. Short bursts of it. Harris looked as far down the corridor as he could, before it curved off into Section One. It suddenly looked darker down there.

“Some lights go out down your way?” he asked McKinley.

“Mm-hmm.”

Harris nodded to himself. “They don’t need the lights to see like we do,” he said quietly.

“Captain, we’ve got access!” Brown announced. “We’re connecting the Aurora now!”

“As soon as he disables their access, we move back to the ship and fast!” Harris told his David and Goliath soldiers.

“Their aim was for shit,” McKinley said, thinking aloud as he stared down the hall. “It was way off …”

“They couldn’t risk hitting Welles, or they’d have a repeat of Colt,” Harris said. “Like you said, they’re just playing with us, trying to mind-fuck us. When we make a move back to the ship, they’re going to come for you and me. We have to be ready.”

“I was born ready, captain,” McKinley replied.