Page 53 of Starfighter’s Salvation

“We have smoke in the medbay,” Gina reported.

“Fire suppression is coming online. Fifteen seconds.” Brennix reported from his station.

“I have two patients on oxygen. They don't have fifteen seconds." I heard her move. Groan. "I'm turning it off, so we don't have an explosion down here."

I overrode the program and dumped reserve suppressant into medical. The cockpit filled with smoke instead. I sealed my helmet and switched to filtered air. Acceptable. Every choice I made was acceptable if it kept her alive.

“Medical clear,” Gina said. “How’s the cockpit?”

“Fine.” I pushed the thrusters for more speed.

“That means bad.”

I couldn't see a fucking thing in front of me. Between the smoke in the cockpit and the rising star acting like a spotlight shining directly in my eyes, I was flying blind. But so were the fighters behind us. And we were almost out.

“Breathe your own air.”

“Bossy.”

“Alive.”

“Keep it that way.” Not an order from a nurse to her pilot, but from my mate. I took it like a vow. I flew straight through. Several shots missed completely. I began to hope.

The next shot found a damaged seam in the port plating. Metal exploded inside the medbay. Gina cried out. Then silence. Her cry turned the world around me into an empty void, the battle the ship, the guns, the trench—gone. There was only the silence where her voice should have been, and my own pulse slamming against it.

“Gina?”

No answer.

“GINA!” Her name ripped from my throat like someone was tearing me apart from the inside. Fuck. My hands were numb.

Four seconds. Long enough to my entire wasted life flash before my eyes, a life without her in it.

“I’m here.” Her voice was tight. Wrong. And the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard.

“Where are you hit?”

“Superficial wound. Don't worry. Just fly the damn ship."

“Where?”

“Ribs. I packed it. Fly the ship.”

“Gina—”

“I'm fine, Corvan. Fly the damn ship.”

There was nothing else I could do. Behind her voice, I heard the medbay. Halix asking for a dressing. Cassia giving orders. One apprentice reporting that Tavar’s blood pressure alarm was beeping. Chaos.

Then Gina took control.

“Cassia, hold this against my side. Brennix, if you move that ankle, I swear I will sedate you. You two, eyes on Tavar. Read every number to me and do exactly what I say. Nobody panics without my permission. Got it?”

“Are you bleeding?” Cassia asked.

“Everybody’s bleeding. Hold here.”

I heard fabric tear, and a hiss from the med unit. Gina inhaled sharply but didn’t cry out again. I fixed my eyes on the trench. If I listened too closely, I’d want to leave the cockpit.