During the roll, the Exiler inside the vehicle was pinned by the seat frame. Carlos pressed the muzzle to its head and ended it with three shots.
He hauled Starling up. They crawled out through a shattered window and sprinted forward. The end of the roadway—and another elevator lobby—wasn’t far.
The Exilers were faster. They closed the distance in seconds. Carlos fired over his shoulder as he ran, but the pursuers were already starting to angle around the wrecked boarding car.
Then Carlos noticed something: the boarding car’s battery housing had bulged outward. Sparks were spitting from the seam.
He emptied several rounds into the battery.
The battery detonated. The blast itself wasn’t huge, but the flames and choking smoke erupted instantly, swallowing the corridor in a burning wall.
They used the moment. Starling and Carlos burst into the elevator lobby and slammed the “up” button.
***
The elevator doors on the bridge level slid open.
Victor Vaughn stepped out with Linneya. The bridge—an immense command hall with a sweeping window wall and flickering data displays—was so strange and fascinating that Linneya forgot to breathe for a second. But the razor-tight atmosphere kept her quiet.
Victor didn’t bother with pleasantries. “We were almost trapped in the elevator. How bad is it?”
Myron looked him over. “Bad doesn’t cover it, Sheriff.” He gestured sharply. “I need you to gather every robot police unit we’ve, and any able-bodied passengers you can organize. Hold the ship’s five remaining docking bays.”
Victor’s face drained. “Captain… are we abandoning ship?”
“Yes,” Myron said. “Rescue ships were supposed to be here in ten minutes. When they arrive, you’ll also manage boarding order. No more chaos. Who is this little girl?”
“The hostage from the kidnapping,” Victor said.
Janiel’s voice cut in. “Captain—Julian has an incoming message.”
Julian’s voice came through at once. “The rescue fleet has been intercepted by two carrier battlegroups. They’re still engaged. Two rescue ships have already been shot down. I’m sorry—Captain, you may need to hold longer.”
“Longer? How much longer?” Myron roared. “Damn it… One artificial intelligence backed me into a corner and I trusted another. Maybe all AIs deserve to die!”
He caught himself and looked at Janiel. “Sorry. Not you.”
Janiel forced an awkward smile. “It’s fine, Captain.”
“What vehicles do we still have?” Myron demanded.
“Seven shuttles,” Janiel said. “Six small cargo craft. Two planetary landers.”
Myron rubbed his forehead. “Not enough. It won’t make up for two lost rescue ships, we—”
Boom! Another blast cut him off. This one was smaller, but it was extremely close—directly above the bridge.
A fire-control officer snapped upright. “Captain! The two Metal Storm Defense Towers above the bridge have lost link.”
***
One minute earlier, the two Metal Storm Defense Towers above the bridge had begun to slow. Continuous output was eating their rate of fire.
Several Nightmare fighters abruptly broke off from their dogfights. They didn’t care if they got shot down. They launched a cluster of Stinger missiles at the towers.
The missiles hit. The honeycombed barrels were blasted apart.
Phantom Forge seized the opening and ordered nearby Exilers to take the bridge. If they captured it, they controlled the entire starship.
Exilers swarmed in from every direction.
Many landed directly on the Sunflower’s broad hull, closing on the protruding bridge while firing as they ran. Phantom fighters streaked overhead—but they held their fire, afraid of tearing into the ship’s own skin.
Above the bridge, an assault craft dropped in a tumbling free fall. No one spared it a glance. It looked like just another downed ship falling out of the melee.
At the last instant, its engines flared. The craft arrested its fall and hovered less than five meters above the bridge. Hatches snapped open, and a storm of bullets erupted outward.
The craft spun as it fired, dumping its fury into every Exiler within range.
Where the fire swept, Exilers came apart.
“Beautiful work, Kofira!” Captain Harangan shouted. He wore an external exosuit and fired through the open hatch as he yelled at the woman in the pilot seat.
“Easy,” Kofira shot back. “I’m more worried you’ll puke.”
Five more soldiers stood in the openings and fired. They were the sharp edge of the Hell Fox Marines—elite among elites—personally assigned by Julian to protect the bridge.
Fast. Sandy. Archibald. Isidor. Tyson Stone.
“As long as we turn those puppets into scrap,” one of them growled, “I don’t care if we spin until we puke.”
“You’re underestimating the Hell Fox Marines,” another answered.
“Kofira—missile!”
“Relax. I’ve got it.” Kofira yanked the stick and slid the assault craft sideways. She didn’t even bother with decoys; a few clean, sharp course changes shook the missile loose.
Meanwhile, Julian deployed Avenger squads onto the hull to engage the Exilers in melee. Under Kofira’s control, the assault craft skimmed the ship’s surface back and forth, surgically cutting down Exilers trying to reach the bridge.
The pressure eased—slightly.
Kofira set the craft down on a small docking hatch behind the bridge. Harangan left two soldiers to guard the hatch and led the remaining three down the docking ladder.
***
Carlos and Starling took the express elevator up to the bridge. They arrived only five minutes after Linneya.
They found her in the lounge behind the bridge. The moment she saw Carlos, Linneya ran and threw herself into his arms.
“I’m sorry, Linneya,” Carlos said hoarsely. “I didn’t listen to you.”
“It’s okay, Dad.” Linneya sniffed and wiped her face. “I heard the captain say rescue ships are coming. We can still go to the underground city.”
Carlos forced a smile. “Yes. We’ll go. And from now on… I’ll listen to you.”
Linneya’s eyes flicked to the cuts on his face and hands—glass scratches from the shattered windshield. “Dad, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he lied. “Just a few scrapes.”
Then Linneya noticed Starling standing by the doorway, keeping her distance.
“Sister Starling!” Linneya darted over.
Starling took a step back as if she didn’t want to be touched—but Linneya hugged her anyway.
“Sister Starling, come with us to the underground city,” Linneya pleaded. “We’ll live together again.”
“Okay,” Starling said. Her smile didn’t quite settle into place.
“Sister Starling—are you hurt too?”
“…Yeah.”
Linneya let go and took two small steps back, frowning at Starling’s cut. Then she whispered, as if afraid of the answer:
“Sister Starling… why is your blood white?”