Starsight

Keep shooting, I sent to the drone. Avoid being destroyed.

Affirmative.

The warning sirens turned frantic, and a voice piped over the PA, reverberating outside our jump room as well. “There are hostile forces in Engineering! Number unknown, but they’re firing!”

Another set of blasts sounded from nearby. Here we go, I thought. “We’re under attack!” I shouted to the other pilots. I leaped from my seat, swinging my pack onto my shoulder. “We need to go help!” I said, throwing open the door, and scrambled out into the hallway.

Though Morriumur sat stunned in their seat, Hesho needed no other confirmation. He shouted, “Kitsen! To arms!”

A swarm of furry little warriors on hoverplatforms zipped out into the hallway to join me.

“Wait!” Vapor’s voice said from the room. “I’m sure that the local guards can handle this!”

I ignored her, barreling down the hallway. As I’d hoped, the solitary guard at the intersection to Engineering had taken cover by the wall, and was calling on her comm for backup. The Krell talked tough, but the truth was, this ship’s crew had probably never been in combat before.

“I can help,” I said to the guard. “But I’ll need a gun.”

Another series of blasts sounded from down the hallway. The Krell guard looked toward them, then back at me. “I can’t . . . I mean . . .”

A part of me was really satisfied to see how her tough persona fell away once the shooting started. I waved my hand impatiently, and the guard took out her sidearm—a small destructor pistol—and handed it to me. Then she raised her larger rifle and nodded.

“Hesho, guard this hallway,” I said. “Don’t let anything suspicious escape through it!”

“Order confirmed!” Hesho said, and the kitsen platforms formed up like a wall behind us.

The Krell guard, to her credit, stood up and started down the hallway. She made a sharp cutting motion with her fingers—a kind of Krell version of Here we go. Then we passed beneath the large sign on the wall proclaiming that we’d entered Engineering.

I’d spent weeks trying to figure out a way to get down here, and I followed the guard with a rising sense of excitement. We turned down another hallway, and I was hit with the scent of lemons. Maybe a cleaning crew had been through recently? On the wall was a sign: NO NONESSENTIAL PERSONNEL ALLOWED. SECURITY CLEARANCE 1-B REQUIRED.

The blasts were coming from a door a little farther down, but the guard stopped and turned to me.

“You aren’t allowed in the room,” she told me. “It’s against clearance rules.”

“Is that more important than protecting the engineering crew?”

The guard actually gave it some thought, then said, “We should wait. Security details are up on deck four for special duty, but they should be here soon. All we need to do is make sure that whoever is in there doesn’t escape.”

I tried to go ahead, but the guard gave me a firm gesture of forbiddance, palm out, so I settled down by the wall, holding my pistol. I set my pack on the ground. My mind was racing. How did I get the drone out of this? Any second now, this hall would flood with security guards.

Status? I asked the drone, tapping covertly on my bracelet.

Scientists hide, the drone said. None return fire.

I scanned the hallway. On my mark, fly out into hall. Fire two shots up high, and don’t hit anyone. Then drop gun.

Affirmative.

Backpack is by wall. Quickly hide inside after dropping gun.

Instructions understood.

Right. I took a deep breath, then sent, Go.

Immediately, the drone—visible only as a shimmer in the air—floated out into the hallway. It fired the destructor overhead, sending the guard to the ground with a cry of fear.

“It’s coming for us!” I shouted. Then—right as the drone dropped the gun—I fired.

I’d done some time in the firing ranges, but had never thought that so much would ride on being able to hit a moving target with a pistol. My first three shots missed, but I managed to hit the gun right before it hit the ground.

The subsequent explosion was impressively large, sending out sparks and molten bits of metal. My shot detonated the pistol’s power supply. As the loud explosion washed over us, light flashing and blinding me, I dove for the Krell guard as if to shield her from the blast.

The two of us ended up in a pile on the floor. I blinked, trying to dispel the spots the bright flash had caused in my vision. Judging by how stunned the guard looked, she had suffered something similar.

Eventually, she shoved me off and scrambled to her feet. “What happened!”

“A drone,” I said, pointing toward a scorched portion of the carpet. “I shot it down.”