M: Tell me your humor module is malfunctioning.
CHAPTER 16
When Torian awoke the next day, theDestitutewas very, very quiet. She pushed upright, stretching, swallowing a yawn as she fumbled for a light. It was built into the wall, and Moss had partially grown around it—the result was a cozy amber glow that illuminated green, spongy leaves and curling mossy tendrils.
Leaves and tendrils that weren’t vibrating at all.
Why was the ship so still?
Torian’s brain was sluggish, and she stared at the light longer than necessary before asking, “Hey, Moss?”
“Yes, Captain Razner?”
Uh-oh.Captain Razner. “Why so formal?”
“According to my databanks, a ship’s captain commands the vessel. In the event of an emergency, the captain takes charge to rectify the issue.” A pause. “That means this is your problem now.”
Torian pushed off the bed, every nerve igniting. “Fuck. What happened?”
Moss illuminated the lights in the ship’s living area. Nothing looked amiss, but also, there were stars out the windows. Which meant they’d exited a wormhole early. Which meant—
“The engine has failed. We are drifting. I blame the dog-turd fungus inconsiderate asshole.”
Torian clawed her hair into a ponytail, tying it off as she sprinted toward the engine’s hatch. “What? Didn’t Dutchfixthat?”
Moss’s tone was grudging. “He fixed it. However, Engine has reported to me that, while the fix was appropriate, the replacementpart has failed. It shut down to prevent catastrophic overheating.” Another pause. “I will still blame him.”
Heavens above.
Torian wrenched open the hatch, and a plume of hot air smacked her face. She coughed past black smoke, wrestling Moss back on track. “We’re not still on fire, are we?” If they were, she was fucked—not even Moss’s life support could save her if a fire broke out in space.
In fact, fire might be theonething that could kill Moss, too.
So, she was relieved when it intoned: “This starship is equipped with sprinklers, both for emergencies and general watering maintenance. So, no, Captain. We are not still on fire.” Another petulant pause. “It is insulting you would assume I’d let a fire run rampant.”
True to its word, the smoke was dissipating—but it still felt too hot to safely descend the ladder. She closed the hatch to protect the oxygen and temperature range she currently had. “You can’t exactly blame me for panicking.”
“You are the captain. You should not panic.”
Torian was a shit captain, compared to someone like Zen or Amelia. She scowled at the ceiling, at the cameras, but drew a slow breath. “Okay. Um. Can you cool the engine room down so I can take a look?”
“It will take time. I have to cycle chilled water through my central system until everything equalizes.”
Torian turned instead to the flight deck, scrubbing her face. At least she didn’t have to worry about clean air until she could fix this. Power must be on auxiliary, too, which was good. Loved her some backups.
Food, though. That could be a problem. She had enough for about a month, but that was if she stretched her supply. If she’d been smart, she’d have resupplied on Rhymarra—but it was supposed to be fast trip back to Colony 13.
Ha. Ha.
Well, at least someone knew they were out here. Torian forcedoptimism into her tone. “It’s okay. Dutch and Zen are expecting us. They’ll come looking when we don’t dock in Vaesa.”
Moss offered a very judgmental pause before it said, deadpan, “Dutchlost me in a hangarfor over one hundred years.”
Torian grimaced, climbing the steps to the flight deck. “Well, Zen, then. He seems responsible.”
“I have six point seven percent confidence in the draic lover.”
Torian ignored that and slid into the pilot’s chair, turning her attention to the control panel. A flashing light caught her eye: the SOS system, or its nylarian equivalent. She checked the coordinate range—but while it was impressively far, it still probably wouldn’t flag someone down for a while.
