all out of the breach into space. We’ll come back and pick them up later-if we live.”

“Seven minutes to impact,” Major Sarin said.

It was at this point that Ning contacted me. “Colonel? Colonel Riggs?”

“Go ahead, Ning,” I said.

“I’m in the Macro laboratory. Sandra is still in her medical pod, but it’s completely full of dark liquid now.”

“Is Sandra all right?” I asked. I felt a pang of guilt and worry.

“I’m-I’m not sure, sir,” Ning said.

I wanted to say I’d be running right down there, but I couldn’t leave the bridge in the middle of a battle. “Fix things for me, Ning,” I said. “We’re about to go into a fight. Should I send help?”

“It just looks odd, that’s all,” Ning said. “I don’t know what those things are doing to her. And Marvin keeps adding new proteins.”

She sounded a little freaked out. “Watch that robot for me,” I told her. “Get Sandra out of there as soon as you can. You are the med-tech. I’m counting on you.”

“Yes sir, Ning out.”

I disconnected and worried about the call. What had she seen? What was happening? This simply wasn’t the time for personal matters, I told myself harshly. I had to delegate. I was responsible for a thousand lives, not just one. I forced my mind back to the battle at hand.

“Six minutes to impact,” Major Sarin said.

“Release the drones,” I ordered.

After a pause and the familiar sensations of the ship firing, Sarin spoke again: “The drones will be meeting the enemy missiles in three minutes.”

I glanced at her. She was like a machine herself. “Everyone suit up. If the missiles get through, we might lose pressure.”

A dozen worried eyes sought mine. I ignored them all. I stared at the screen, but all I could think about was Sandra, Ning and whatever Marvin was up to. I had a bad feeling about it. I’ve learned to listen to those feelings while exploring the universe. Humans such as myself were beyond our comfort zone out here. I’d grown up on TV, internet, sitting in classrooms and commuting to a dull job, just like every other boring stiff back on Earth. The rules were far different in space, where we seemed to be sized up for extermination by a new alien every day. Instincts and hunches were all humanity had to go on now that we’d joined the galactic community-because we sure as hell didn’t know what we were doing.

“Assuming the drones take out six for six, can Jolly Rodger withstand two warheads?” I asked my staff. They talked about it while I stared at pixels. The targeting arcs had gone red now, and begun to blink. I supposed that was something built into the software to indicate we were in imminent danger.

“Depends on where they hit,” Gorski said, giving me the final verdict.

“We can’t turn our nose to them, as we’ve got a gaping hole there now,” I said. “And we certainly don’t want to take a hit in the engine area and be disabled. We’ll have to turn our flank to them and take it broadside.”

No one looked happy, but Major Welter stepped up. “I’ll do the steering,” he said. “We don’t have much time to program the auto pilot to do anything tricky.”

I glanced at him and nodded. He proudly went to the brainbox and turned it off. Nanite hands dropped to the machine’s side and Welter took its place, frowning in concentration. He was a gifted pilot, but I really wasn’t sure he was ready for this.

“The drones are going to intercept, sir,” Major Sarin said. “In four, three, two, one-mark.”

“Impact confirmed,” said Gorski. “Three hits. Four. Five.”

There was a three second delay. “Talk to me,” I said.

He shook his head. “We missed one. Three missiles still incoming.”

“Crap,” I said. I opened a ship-wide channel. “Everyone, this is Colonel Riggs. We are about to be struck by incoming fire. You are ordered to abandon ship. You have four minutes to get outside this hull and at least a mile away into space. Leave what you can’t carry. If our ship survives the attack, return to her. If our ship breaks up, head toward the enemy cruiser if you want to keep breathing.”

I saw the frightened, disbelieving stares. Major Sarin’s look told me she didn’t approve of my off-handed bluntness. I supposed she never had. I could hear her scolding thoughts: Tactful as always, sir.

People sprang into action all around me. They ripped up the computer screen and carried it with them. I saw Major Welter bring the ship around so we would take the strikes in the side. Another tech took the auto-pilot with him, but Welter stayed at the helm. I ran off without commenting.

I reached the laboratory with less than three minutes to spare. Sandra’s coffin was open and filled with sludge. Sandra was lying on the floor in a huge puddle of lumpy liquid. I didn’t see Ning or Marvin. Perhaps they’d given up on her and abandoned ship as ordered.

Sandra’s thin clothes had been dissolved away to nothing. It looked as if her entire body had been dipped into dirty oil. I assumed she was dead. I felt my eyes sting as I rolled her gently onto her back. Then I saw her eyes-they were open and staring. Those eyes were bright in the oily mess of her face.

She didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at anything. “I can’t move,” she whispered softly.

I’d been frozen by this series of events, but now I kicked myself into action. I didn’t have time to give her a shower or call for a corpsman. I figured I’d strangle Ning and dismantle Marvin later for leaving her-assuming any of us survived the next minutes.

Shoving Sandra into a vacc suit wasn’t an option. I simply didn’t have the time. Instead, I lifted her and dumped her into what had been Carlson’s coffin. He was missing too, but I hardly cared. I put her limp form into the coffin and slammed the lid shut. I grabbed a flying dish and dragged her pod, bumping along behind me. She didn’t have much heat or air in there, but it was better than nothing. We had to get off the ship.

My hope was, as I forced the nearest emergency hatch to blow open and went twisting out into space, that Jolly Rodger would survive the incoming warheads. I’d seen Macro cruisers take a lot of punishment before going down. Unfortunately, Jolly Rodger had already endured a number of beatings.

I accelerated away from the ship, awkwardly hauling Sandra in her coffin with me. I didn’t make it to a safe distance before the missiles hit. Nowhere near. The flash made my visor darken. I worried instantly about Sandra, who didn’t have a visor protecting her. Would she be blinded? I kept flying as directly away from the explosion as I could.

In space, explosions operate differently than those detonated in an atmosphere. There was no shockwave- no wall of air pressure to knock things away. Only the force of the initial blast itself mattered, plus any shrapnel or radiation it might release.

From my point of view the explosion went off under my feet, as I was standing on my dish and flying directly away from the ship. I dared to look down.

Major Welter was still firing the attitude jets, still keeping control of the ship, which rolled under his control to direct the least damaged region of the hull toward the incoming missiles. I knew how hard it was, to manipulate those Macro controls accurately under battle conditions.

Two more hits blossomed under me now. Welter had done it perfectly, putting the ship’s best face toward the warheads. I felt a flash of pride for him and all my men, but it wasn’t enough to save the ship. She’d taken too many shots. The metal of the outer hull was half-slag, brittle and burnt. Jolly Rodger broke up as I watched. Large, spinning fragments of the cruiser whirled away like newborn asteroids. Bits of debris, human, brick and otherwise, floated everywhere.

I slowed, reversed course and began braking my tiny dish. My marines were all around, scattered, dying, calling for help. Some of the bricks went rolling by. I realized we would probably never be able to collect them all.

I checked Sandra then, expecting her to be twisted wreckage or frozen to death by now. She was neither. I shined a suit-light through the frosty lid of her coffin. Her eyes were still wide, still staring. They flicked toward my light and focused there.

I swallowed hard. What the hell had the microbes done to her?

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