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Maybe she was a little more excited about that than she needed to be, but so far, the crazy, dangerous life of the civilian salvage operator had been a bit dull. "They're both suited up and climbing around the debris, Captain. We can go on your order."
"We need Ryder." Cho gripped the edge of his board. "He's the registered CSO. Doc says the woman was Corps long enough for it to mark her, so cut her free when we take him." Only a fool brought that kind of trouble on board and Mackenzie Cho's mama had raised no fool.
"You got it. Or him." Dysun made a small adjustment to her sca
"Almon?"
"It's enough data to aim the net around him if you can get him out in the open, Captain."
Dysun answered before Cho could. "I take out their tethers, and send the next shot into the debris. That'll shake them loose. That is if Huirre can keep us pointed the right way."
"I could fly this ship right up your ass," Huirre growled.
"Promises, promises."
"Move in fast," Cho snapped. "Dysun, you take out the ship as soon as their proximity alarms go off. We don't want them getting back to it and fukking dying on us. Then take out the tethers, then hit the debris. If you've got a clear shot at the woman, take it. Get her out of Almon's way."
"Aye, Captain." The ends of her hair flipped back and forth
This was going to work, he could feel it. This time, Craig Ryder would give them the information they needed. Cho could see the armory opening. He could almost feel one of the Corps' ubiquitous KC-7s in his hands, bucking back as he switched it to full auto and squeezed the trigger. Ships in orbit could EMP more complex weapons but no one on either side had been able to dream up a way to stop a basic chemical reaction from happening. Armed with KC-7s, they could take over any station they docked at.
This time, nothing would go wrong. "Dysun, whatever happens to their drive, happens to you."
Her hair stilled. "Aye, Captain." "The fuk!" As Promise's proximity siren screamed through his suit's comm link, Craig, slapped his last charge down, and worked his way backward along the path of his tether as fast as possible. Unfortunately, as fast as possible was too fukking slow, but a hole ripped into his suit by a jagged edge would slow him more. "Torin! Have you got a visual?" He didn't have to shout to be heard over the siren, the comm would take care of volume levels, but it felt good. Like he was doing something.
"Negative. Still obscured by wreckage."
"It's probably the wreckage that set it off." He jerked his line off a twisted cable end. "If we got it moving…"
"Not unless you've been putting on weight," Torin snorted. "Four meters and I'm out."
He could see the patch of stars that marked his entry to the clump's i
They emerged at roughly the same time. Torin popped out and kept rising at about 120 degrees to his zero, clearing the slab of metal cutting up like a fin out of the tangle and then remagging her boots to snap down onto the upper edge. "I've pinged the Promise. The debris hasn't moved."
"Then what the fuk…" His boots demagged, he pushed off, grabbed a loop of piping, swung around it until he pointed the right way, then bent his arms and shoved off. As he landed three meters from Torin's position, the top of the Promise's cabin blew off, debris spraying out as she decompressed into vacuum.
He didn't remember moving, but Torin's grip on his ankle said they both had.
"Let me go, damn it!" He had to get to his lady. She wasn't answering, but he knew she wasn't dead. Holed, yes, open to vacuum, but nothing crucial had been hit.
"Craig! Listen to me! There's a ship…"
The next shot took out the line holding Promise to the wreckage.
In order to set the charges around the piece of tech, they'd both tethered to the grapple head. With that gone, the only thing holding him in place was Torin's grip.
He could see the incoming ship. Ex-Navy with a cargo hold attached like half the small freighters in known space. But the guns said…
"Pirates!"
"No shit!" The next shot slapped into the slab of metal just under Torin's boots. Craig whipped backward as her knees buckled, but she hung on. "They want the salvage! We need to get clear!"
"No! It's not the salvage they're after!"
"Damn it, Torin, you don't know…"
The next shot slid behind the slab and into the wreckage.
The clump shuddered.
He felt Torin's grip shift as her body adjusted to the movement under her feet.
Then the charges blew. Shards of debris flew past. Hit his shoulder. His suit absorbed most of the impact, but it fukking hurt.
He heard Torin grunt, more an exhalation than an actual sound as though, just for that moment, she were breathing inside his helmet with him.
Then he felt her grip fall away.
She'd never have let him go were she still able to hold on.
"Torin!"
He saw stars, the attacking ship, his poor wounded lady, debris flying off in every possible direction, Torin caught up in it-the bright orange of her HE suit, visible then obscured by wreckage as he pinwheeled. He reached out. Stupidly. She'd absorbed more of the blast. Was moving away faster than he was spi
Red lights…
Air leak!
Craig tasted blood as he slammed against the mesh of a cable net, jaw impacting with the hard edge of his suit's collar. His faceplate, crossed by four cables, creaked but held. He couldn't turn his head, but if they'd netted him, they pla
His charges were gone, but he had a cutting tool on his belt. Much smaller but the same basic principle as the Marine's be
Don't think about Marines now.
Right arm trapped between two loops, he shoved his left between his body and the net.
Torin's trained for this, he reminded himself. Situations like this.
Fumbling the magnetic clasp out, he managed to shove his first two fingers into the tool pouch.
If Torin were conscious, she'd have her suit patched before she lost enough air for it to matter.
With the charges gone, it wasn't that hard to hook out the cutter.
If Torin were conscious, she'd be talking, implant to implant, to keep the pirates from overhearing. If she'd been hit hard enough to damage her implant…
The cutter was harder to use with his left hand, and working so close to his body, there was always the chance he'd hole his own suit.
Didn't stop him from aiming it at the net and turning it up to full burn.
All he could hear was his own breath. In. Out. A little too fast. A little too hard.
Three strands through.
Four.
One more…
A sudden shadow caught his attention. Craig turned his head to see the edge of a cargo door go by on his right. He'd barely been pulled over the threshold when the gravity generators kicked in and slammed him down hard onto the deck, the edge of his tank driving into his kidneys with enough force to ensure he'd be pissing blood. Teeth clenched, he flopped over onto his side.
And saw…
He wasn't sure what it was, but it was fukking huge and explained why they'd dropped him so close to the door. There wasn't room to drop him any farther in.
A siren wailed as the doors started to close, and he fought the weight of the net to raise himself up onto his hands and knees. Promise still had power. Craig could see her lights flashing in the distance. If he could get to her, he could get to Torin.