I cracked an eyelid... or I tried, but my lashes were stuck together and a film of filth was covering my face. I remembered red mist, flying chunks of grey matter, and other fluids, and felt the sudden need to wipe it off... except that that Barangail’s man was pinning my hands. Panic flared but I kept my mouth firmly closed. Whatever was filmed over my face, I didn’t want to taste any of it.
“Stay still,” came in Stepyan’s gruff tones, and I froze, drawing a sharp breath when a large hand wrapped itself around the back of my head, using my hair as an anchor point.
The weight of Barangail’s soldier was dragged clear, eliciting curses when he groaned. I heard chatter in the background, followed by a familiar flash of silver light, but the damp cloth that scoured my face distracted me from what it might mean. It was a good thing that Stepyan didn’t hold it in one place, but wiped gently and firmly until my skin could breathe again.
I opened my eyes the second I could, and breathed a sigh of relief. Catching the harsh angles of Stepyan’s face above me, I sucked another breath and registered the piercing darkness of his gaze. Heat colored my cheeks, but I refused to look away. He and Case could call me as gutless as they liked, but I had as much guts as either of them.
“There’s my girl.”
I looked towards Mack’s voice and he stepped into view, the look on his face somewhere between consternation and relief.
“I thought I told you not to get yourself shot.”
I scowled, and tried to push Stepyan off me. He shifted his grip out of my hair and down to my bicep, lifting me to my feet when the armor wouldn’t respond.
“Didn’t,” I muttered, and Stepyan snorted.
Mack raised an eyebrow.
“You sure, girl? Because I can see a couple of dents that weren’t there when we ported over.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Tens cut in.
“Mack, you got company coming up the stalk. You wanta lock down that cable before Steps and Case decide to really fuck things up by making it inoperational?”
“I’ll make you inoperational,” Case muttered, and Stepyan growled an agreement.
Mack groaned.
“You mind not yanking their chains, Tens? You know what they’re like when they come off a mission.”
Tens snorted, and I wrapped my hand around Stepyan’s arm. Before any of us could say anything, though, Rohan bounced through my implant where everyone could see him, Cascade bounding in his wake. Both of them had such an aura of hell-raising joy about them that we just stopped and stared—even Mack. By the time any of us thought to try and stop them, they were gone.
Shortly after, the car arrived at the lobby. Stepyan let go of my arm and levelled his Schamwari 76 at the door, Case mirroring his action. Mack followed, bracing up and aiming the Blazer, and all risk of decompression be damned.
I held my breath, and tried to keep my balance, but Stepyan gave me a shove with his fingertips and I toppled, cursing uncooperative armor and all asshole assassins, while trying to keep an eye on the door as I went.
Nothing happened; the door never opened.
And Rohan bounced back through my head, on his way back to the Shady Marie, and making sure Mack, Stepyan and Case heard his report as he went.
“Should be solid for a few hours,” he said, and Cascade bounced after him giving me a happy ‘wuff’ and a mental face-lick as he passed.
“You able to dock?” Mack asked, and Tens response was immediate.
“Not yet, boss. That thing is locked down tight. You wanta open it up for me?”
I watched as Mack exchanged a glance with Steps and Case.
“Sure thing, Tens. You wanta walk us through it?”
“Take Cutter with you,” Tens said. “She just needs to interface with the central core, and Rohan and Cascade can do the rest.”
“Small problem with that,” Mack told him, but Stepyan interrupted.
“No there isn’t.”
I wanted to protest that, Stars yes, there was a problem, but Tens was already in my implant, and Stepyan and Case had already crouched down beside me and pulled miniaturized cutting equipment from the tool pouches at their belts.
“Oh, Stars no!” I protested and tried to move my half-frozen body out of their reach.
That attempt ended when Rohan slipped back into the implant, and tweaked a couple of neurons.
Sorry, Cutter, he said, not sounding like he felt a single shred of regret.
“Fuck you,” I muttered, and he snickered.
“You trying to make Mack jealous?”
“Get your cheeky ass over here where I can kick it, you misbegotten spawn of an arach-infested, whore-busted—”
“Cutter!”
Mack sounded horrified enough that I stopped. It didn’t help that Rohan was laughing fit to burst, and holding my body perfectly still as Stepyan and Case cut the armor off me.
“Geez. Haven’t the pair of you heard of undoing the buckles?”
“This is faster,” Case said, and Stepyan grunted in agreement, as he pulled the armor apart, and untangled it from my arms.
I had a vague idea of how a crab might feel having its shell split before being eaten, but I was dressed beneath the armor, so it wasn’t that bad. Between them, it didn’t take the two assassins more than a minute to strip the ruined casing off me.
Stepyan patted my shoulder.
“Don’t get shot,” he said, getting to his feet, and turning to Mack.
Rohan let me go, and Case stopped long enough to haul me upright, but Mack didn’t wait.
“Show me where,” he ordered, and froze, his eyes darting around the lobby until he pinpointed the exit he needed to take. He didn’t bother giving us orders, just took off towards it, expecting us to follow—and, because it was Mack, we did.
Taking back the station was a lot simpler than it sounded. The original operators had abandoned it as soon as the planet’s rich had evacuated, many taking whatever ships
