“You put her in that pod,” I snarl.
He shrugs. “I put her in the future.”
I don’t wait for him to finish gloating.
Itacklehim.
The exo-suit gives him weight, but I’ve got momentum—and rage. We crash to the deck in a tangle of metal and fury. His weapon skitters across the platform. My elbow slams into his jaw. He grunts. Throws me off with a powered shove that sends me skidding across the floor.
I roll. Regain my footing. Blood in my mouth. My knuckles already raw.
He comes at me with those reinforced fists, swings wide. I duck, pivot, slam a boot into the side of his knee. The servo there crunches, and he howls.
“You don’t get tosacrificeher,” I growl, dodging another punch. “She’s not yours to offer.”
“She’s mine,” Stark sneers, “because she chose progress over sentiment. She knew what this meant.”
“You’re using her, you bastard.”
“She volunteered!” he roars, throwing a haymaker that catches my shoulder. I stagger. The edge of the platform is too close now.
But I see the flicker—his exo-core’s exposed. Right along the collar. The glow’s erratic, overheating.
I fake left.
Then throw myself right, driving my blade into the opening with a grunt. Sparks burst. Starkscreams. The suit convulses.
I grab the edge of his helmet and slam my forehead into his faceplate.
Once.
Twice.
Crack.
The helmet shatters.
He crumples like a dropped puppet.
I don’t check if he’s out.
I’m already at the pod.
Fingers fly over the latch. Override code. Manual release. The hatch bursts open in a cloud of steam.
Nova spills out.
Dazed.
Barely conscious.
But alive.
I catch her before she hits the deck.
She blinks up at me, eyes glazed with shock. “Kaz?”
“I got you,” I whisper, cradling her tight. “You’re safe. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
