Space was a shockingly inhospitable place for humans without power. Even things she took for granted, like the artificial gravity technology, dramatically improved quality of life.
For their work in the damaged rooms, Lana joined Belix in putting on her flimsy helmet. She also carried her own hotbox, which they put to use almost immediately after leaving the bridge, to open one blast door after another in the damaged corridor outside the crew cabins.
“Looks like you and Dax are going to have an excuse to share a room now,” Belix said, motioning to Dax's cabin.
The elfin woman wasn't lying; her boyfriend's room was half slagged and filled by quick-expanding foam to seal the hull breach, which stretched across Dax's cabin and into Barix's beside it. There was even a hint that it might've nicked Belix's cabin, although that breach had been sealed with an actual patch.
Well, looked as if they'd be sleeping in Lana's cabin now. So much for her infrequent retreats back to her bed for some solitary time.
“How exactly are we going to repair this?” Lana asked, staring in dismay at the foam and twisted metal that filled most of the space where two cabins had been, and even extending slightly into the corridor.
“We aren't,” Belix said simply. “Unless we get scrap hull plating from somewhere and want to set down on an actual colony world, or do some heinously uncomfortable and lengthy work in deep space. Even then it would take weeks, and the result would be hideous and sub-par.”
Lana frowned. “We're going to have a fun time finding a space station to make repairs with a Deek task force and Iglis's criminal underworld both on our tail,” she pointed out.
The Ishivi scowled. “At least we've got five robots aboard to do the dirty, unpleasant stuff.” Her lip twisted contemptuously. “Including everything the sex robot does in the captain's cabin.”
That didn't seem fair; Lana didn't consider any of what she did with Dax to be anything but enjoyable. “I thought you liked doing that stuff with Aiden, at least until you guys had your falling out.”
“Shut up.” Belix quickened her step, leading the way to a mangled blast door at the other end of the corridor.
In order to get past it to make repairs deeper in the ship, the Fixes had cut through the barrier with cauterizers and cutting torches. That was fine for an emergency solution, but now their job was to make some sort of barrier to cover the opening. Ideally, one that they could easily get through when needed without destroying it again.
The solution there was two thick polymer patches that could be opened and closed, put on either side of the blast door to make a sort of rudimentary airlock.
Halfway done with the job, it finally happened.
Warning klaxons suddenly filled the air with deafening noise, blood-red lights blinking down the corridor. With them came Ali's voice over the comms, sharp and urgent. “Combat stations, Movement ship just rifted in.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Belix groaned. “Are we ever going to catch a break?”
About time, the Dormant thought, even while the Blank Slate began began pressing back at her sudden resolve in alarm. Ruthlessly pushing down the other part of her consciousness, she shoved past Belix without a word and picked her way swiftly and surely over the debris in the ruined corridor.
Towards the shields, and completion of her mission.
* * * * *
Jian Dalar stood at his station, tense with eager anticipation.
Granted, there was a lot to be bitter about. First and foremost, of course, being that his vengeance against the Last Stand and the hated Thorne would come from inside the shields room, about as far removed from action on the bridge as possible. Aside from the engines, that is; while he was sure Bresac would have gladly put him in that dirty and ignominious posting, he wasn't qualified for it.
Although she'd certainly used it as an opportunity to lambast his lack of skills.
But on shields and repairs or even manning a security detail to repel boarders, it didn't matter to him. What was important was that he'd be here to help destroy the task force's target, washing away at least a little of his humiliation and giving him a chance to earn back what he'd lost.
This was his moment. Time to show that miserable pirate ship what a light combat cruiser staffed by an elite Decon crew could do.
* * * * *
“It's the Vindicator,” Ali announced grimly, even as the enemy light cruiser maneuvered out of its rift jump into an attack posture. “Ordering the combat androids back inside.”
Probably a good idea; finding the bug, and the arrival of the Deek ship seemed like pretty strong confirmation that there was one, took a backseat to the coming battle. Not to mention extreme maneuvers would either shake the Fixes off and send them flying into space, or cause them to rip gaping holes in the hull trying to hold on.
And there was going to be a battle. In fact, Aiden was already moving to engage the other ship.
Maybe it was hubris, with his ship as damaged as it was, but he couldn't imagine a single vessel of this size manned by Deek knuckle draggers beating the Last Stand. Void, his ship had come close to taking out another light cruiser while being chased by this very enemy vessel. And would have, if they'd had a bit more time and more ships hadn't been breathing down their necks.
“Take them out quick, before more arrive,” he told the gunner. The young man didn't even bother to reply, just leaned over his weapons.
“The Vindicator is hailing us,” Ali said.
Aiden couldn't help but snort. That Deek captain from before, back to gloat in spite of the humiliating outcome of their last encounter? Well, the man deserved a word before being blown out of space. “Put them through.” He raised his voice
