Page 43 of Starfighter’s Salvation

A third battery fired from the east rim. I counted the delay between flashes and impacts, adjusted our speed, and made sure the next burst struck rock behind us.

“Show-off.” Gina's knuckles were white where she clung to her seat, but she didn't allow any fear to enter her voice.

I knew every meter of the map. A split in the west wall. A collapsed bridge two kilometers past it. Bunker Nine beneath an old loading crane.

When we approached our target area, the loading crane was gone. For one second, I thought the map had failed us. Then I saw the top of a Velerion cargo crawler buried beneath a fresh rockslide. “Bunker Nine should be on the east wall. We're almost on top of it."

“Should?”

“The map we have is old.”

“Of course it is.”

Something struck the dorsal plate. The hull rang. One warning light turned red, then yellow. No breach. I found the entrance to Bunker Nine behind the buried cargo crawler and set the ship down with the rear hatch protected by the remains of the bunker's outer wall.

“We are on the ground.”

Gina unstrapped. “How long do I have?”

“The scouting teams estimated we'd have eight minutes before they're fighters reach our location.”

“Plenty of time. Right?” She slammed her helmet in place and activated the seal, already jogging toward the back. She spared me a glance to make sure I had my helmet on, then lowered the ramp. Then my mate tried to run toward the bunker without waiting for me. I caught her around the waist, lifted her off her feet and swung her around behind me.

"You trying to get yourself killed?" I yelled and she flinched. Fuck. But dammit, the female was trying to get herself shot.

"No. There's no one here. We don't have time for that." She pointed toward my rifle.

"Stay behind me. Don't argue." I burned two minutes of our time making sure the area was clear before allowing her to wander. I followed with my rifle and two evacuation frames.

“Starfighter Rescue!” Gina shined her light and shouted into the dark. “If you can hear me, answer!” Her voice filled the ruined bunker, steady and certain, pitched to reach anyone still breathing. She threw it into the dark and around walls like she already knew someone would answer.

For two seconds, nothing. Then someone yelled from deep inside.

“Here! We’re here!”

Gina looked at me with excitement and triumph on her face. “Told you. Alive.”

We moved through a damaged pressure door into the inner chamber. We sealed it behind us and removed our helmets. The smell hit me first. Blood, burned insulation, unwashed bodies, and recycled air pushed through failing filters. Titan Brennix stood just inside the door holding a cutting torch. His left ankle bent at an unnatural angle. He was filthy, exhausted, and still prepared to fight us.

“Identification,” he demanded.

“Starfighter Corvan, rescue command. Starfighter Gina Reyes, combat medic. Put down the torch.”

“Prove it.”

Gina walked up and took the torch out of his hand like she was collecting a scalpel off a tray. I had my rifle up and ready with a shot I would never need. I filed her careless disregard for her own safety away under bad habits I'd fuck out of her later.

“You have a broken ankle, honey. Sit down before you fall on somebody.”

Brennix stared at his empty hand. Then he sat.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

“Nurse voice.”

“That's a deadly weapon.” There was something in her tone that made you trust her to take care of you. Dangerous.

“Then don’t make me use it on you.” She was already scanning the room. Cassia lay against the far wall in damaged Titan armor. Crushed shoulder. Burns along her right side. Conscious and furious.