As Zoe rolled up her sleeve, she motioned to the applicator. “Is there enough in that for everyone else?”
“Yes, and more.”
“Good. Then why don’t you handle yourself, Tara, and Mbeki, and leave it with me? I’ll see to the remainder of the crew and passengers, including the diplomats. That way, it’ll save time and you guys can cross over to the Bright Moon once you’ve donned your gear.”
Hawthorne gestured for Tara to scrunch up her sleeve. “A sound suggestion. You can follow us, and we’ll roust out the sergeant. When he’s been medicated, I’ll leave the others to you.”
After they had all left the flight deck, Grady keyed the internal ship-wide channel. “This is the captain. We have located the missing rebel freighter and docked with her. She suffered damage, including a temporary reactor breach, during a pirate attack. The hostile has been neutralized. We are sending a boarding party across to lend support. Zoe will be coming around to administer anti-radiation shots to each person as a precautionary measure.”
In the abruptly silent cockpit, he eyed the sensor holo, which remained clear of contacts. No way a single, one-person fighter was acting alone out here in the middle of nowhere, he thought. I bet it was a scout, looking for easy pickings, ready to report back to a mothership somewhere in the area. The question is, did the pilot have a chance to broadcast our position before their craft was destroyed?
He twisted around at the sound of paws drumming on the deck. Gizmo pounded into view, his head lowered, and darted under the copilot’s console. “Huh, I’m guessing Tara told you to keep out of the way, furry dude.” He watched as the creature circled the floor several times, clawed at the blanket Tara had placed there, then, seemingly satisfied, flopped down with a soft warble.
“Maybe I should have the doc prepare a shot for you, too, eh?” Grady said. “Though something tells me your time growing up on that alien moon left you better prepared for stray radiation than the rest of us. You’re tougher than you look.”
17
“We’re entering the freighter’s airlock chamber now.” Tara’s brief message caused Grady to sit up straighter in the seat, and he reached out his hand to key the comm. “Understood. Please keep me apprised.” Tension etched his voice and he let his hand drop onto the chair arm, mentally urging his breathing to steady.
Despite the anti-rad protective gear the boarding party wore, worry gnawed at him as he gazed at the live feed from Adventurer’s airlock chamber on the wraparound screen, watching as Hawthorne and Mbeki followed her. The outer airlock door closed with a heavy thud, and he no longer had visual contact with the team.
How long could Tara and the others remain on the damaged vessel before exposure became a serious concern? Hawthorne had assured him he would monitor each member of the boarding party for incipient signs of radiation sickness and wouldn’t hesitate to abort the mission if the risks became too severe. All Grady could do now was sit back and watch as his sister, Hawthorne, and Mbeki put their lives on the line to render assistance.
“Waiting for pressure to equalize before opening the inner hatch.” Tara’s voice flowed from the cockpit speakers, her helmet lending her words a scratchy, mechanical timbre. “I’m looking through the porthole in the freighter’s inner airlock door and see two people waiting for us, one wearing captain’s stripes.”
Gizmo raised his head, let out a squeaky chirrup, and looked around. Not seeing Tara, the creature uttered a huff of what seemed like disappointment and let his head flop back onto his front paws. Grady was tempted to move across to the copilot’s station and give the animal a comforting pat, but thought better of it—unsure if he might receive a painful rebuke delivered at the tip of penetrating claws. Instead, he contented himself by saying, “Sorry, Gizmo. That’s only Tara’s voice you’re hearing. She’s on a mercy mission. Fingers crossed, and paws, she and her team will be okay.”
His gaze shifted to the sensor holo. He grunted, satisfied it remained clear of contacts, but couldn’t shake the sensation of acute vulnerability with Adventurer and the freighter airlocked together. The two ships were sitting ducks should more pirates emerge from hyperspace. Had the fighter managed to send off a comm to its mothership before it was destroyed? Mal had confirmed no voice comm was broadcast, but that didn’t mean a condensed, targeted data burst hadn’t been dispatched. Thanks to the radiation leaking from the freighter—not to mention residual energy discharged by weapons fire and the fighter’s destruction—it would be almost impossible to detect a short transmission. He’d ordered Zoe to maintain high alert—the ship remained at battle stations—and his attention kept straying to the sensor board.
“We’re about to get the green light,” Tara commed. “First priority is to meet with the captain and assess the situation.”
“How are your radiation levels?”
“Not to worry, Captain,” Hawthorne broke in on the team channel. “I’m keeping a close eye on each of us. So far, the suits are doing their job. Rad levels on board appear to be inching down, so I assume the ship’s scrubbers are having a positive effect. No immediate cause for concern.”
“Very good,” Grady said. “But don’t take any chances and no wandering off alone. Sis, that means you.”
“It’s not the kind of place I’d choose to go sightseeing anyway, Bro,” Tara said. “Though the red emergency lighting I can see through the airlock porthole does impart a certain spooky, sunset vibe.”
“Just don’t remove your helmet to soak up the rays,” Grady said. “Unless you want to come down with the mother and father of all suntans.”
“Whoa, Bro, I’m shocked. Don’t tell me you care?”
“Nah. I just don’t want you to leave a mess in that suit for me to clean up. You know how much I hated doing chores around the house when I was a kid.”
“You’re all heart.” Tara’s tone became more businesslike, and she added, “Entering the freighter proper. I’ll make contact again once I have a situation update. Boarding party out.”
“Copy,” Grady said, his grip on the joystick tightening. Tara could handle herself and was trained to deal with death and stressful, life-threatening circumstances. But would the hardened biohazard suits be enough to keep her and the team safe from the excess radiation, depending on how long they remained on the freighter? I should have gone instead of her, he thought. What if she suffers irreversible injury because of radiation exposure? I’d never forgive myself. He gritted his teeth, sucked in a ragged breath, and forced his hold on the flight stick to soften.
Zoe must have noticed the tension causing him to sit bolt upright like he’d been turned to stone, and said, “Boss, she’s got this. Tara is one smart operator. And the doc will pull them out if the radiation level looks likely to become critical.”
Grady glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right.” He cracked a shaky smile. “I’ve just got to get used to my baby sister putting herself in harm’s way.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I never even knew she’d left home and joined the IC to become a pilot. I was too busy fighting the war and helping to forge the peace to keep in touch with my family back on New Ireland. And now, look at her, risking her life for strangers.” He felt a sudden urge to comm Tara and tell her how proud he was of her, but didn’t want to cause a distraction. Maybe later.
Zoe seemed aware of this as well and tossed Grady a reassuring grin. “Wrap her in a big, brotherly hug when she gets back. Right now, she needs to focus on finding out how many people over there need our help.”
The comm chimed, and Hawthorne’s calm voice echoed from the speakers. “We’ve reached the freighter’s small sickbay. Their medic informs me there are six casualties among the crew, with three in a serious condition, including both engineers. I am about to triage them myself. Hawthorne out.”
A crackle followed, and Tara added, “The freighter’s internal comm is down and several systems are badly damaged. Thankfully, artificial grav is still functional, along with life support, at least for now. But we’ll need help from Squirt or Lian to restore and stabilize their systems.”
“Are all crew and passengers accounted for?” Grady asked.
“I was just coming to that. Two crew members are missing, along with all but one of the fighter pilots. The captain was waiting for rad levels to lessen before organizing a search of the aft section, where the pilots were billeted. They only carry one hardened protective suit aboard, and it was compromised when the chief engineer repaired the reactor breach.”
“The information we were given on the vessel when I agreed to escort the convoy indicates a crew of fifteen, supplemented by ten fighter pilots,” Grady said, swiping at the pilot’s holo. “Where the hell is everyone else?”
“Hang on,” Tara said. “Mbeki and I are checking. Huh, the captain says all three escape pods are still on board. She didn’t order abandon ship and, anyway, was worried the pods might be targeted by the pirate if they were released.”
“Interesting,” Mal interjected. “The pods would possess additional radiation shielding, since if they were ejected, they would need to protect their occupants from background space radiation without the benefit of the freighter’s hull plating.”
Grady leaned forward and clicked his fingers. “Tara, that’s—”
“Way ahead of you, Bro. Since the doc has got his hands full in the medbay, Sarge and I are on the way to check the pods,” Tara said, sounding breathless. “We downloaded a schematic of the ship’s internal layout before boarding her.”
“Understood,” Grady said. A sudden thought struck him and he keyed the comm again. “Tara, wait a sec, there’s another location on that ship with extra rad shielding.”
“The hangar bay?”
