I froze, for a second. Then my mind went ice cold, battle cold.

  Everything became sharp, close up and distant at the same time. The Kylians entering, a kid stumbling as her father pulled her forward by her hand. An old woman cradling a soiled cloth bag from which the spout of a white-and-blue tea pot stuck out. Maiko, in the airlock, sub-machine gun over his shoulder, urging his people on.

  A force of armed secs hunting bullhorns about to arrive in minutes.

  Without engines, we'd be cornered. They could wait us out, until the cold in the Belithain finished us off. Or hunger. Or they could bring up heavy weapons. Hit us with artillery. Splash us with plasma.

  We needed engines. And the only engines we had were in the Bucket, three levels and ten kilometers away.

  It might have been on the other side of the galaxy. I couldn't get there. Everyone thought I was a bullhorn. The secs would gun me down. My wards weren't enough to protect me against an army.

  But someone else could go. I took off my jacket, and stretched it out to Hao.

  "What's this?" she said.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "My last wards," I said. "They might protect you in a pinch, but don't fight. Run."

  "Run where?" she said, confusion plain on her face.

  "Get the Bucket," I said. "Hook it up to the Belithain. Ram it into the hold if you need to, but get us away from here."

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Hao's expression changed from confused to grim. She could see the possibilities, and the dangers, and didn't flinch from them. I was voidmunching lucky to have her as my co-pilot.

  "Maiko!" I yelled running toward the airlock, Hao on my heels. "I need an orange or yellow vest, now."

  No questions, just action. Maiko darted into the crowd and with a quick word seized a neon-orange safety jacket from the back of a middle-aged man. The man struggled. I was about to club him when I realized he struggled to unbuckle a safety catch on his chest.

  The catch clicked, and the man let Maiko drag the jacket from him.

  "Here," Maiko said, tossing it to me.

  I passed the much too small jacket over to Hao.

  "Keep it over your shoulder," I said. "The size won't be as apparent. It's camouflage, not defense. Anyone asks, you're an off-duty vat tech."

  "Right," she said, handing me her gun. My gun, the Chimer I had for low threat situations. Not much chance of that here.

  Hao started running.

  "Hey," I called after her, "if everything goes to the void, you're the best co-pilot I've ever had the pleasure of serving with."

  "It won't," Hao yelled back over her shoulder. "Stay alive. And I'm the only co-pilot you've ever served with."

  "Take care of the hatchling," I yelled as she rounded the corner and exited the Huragian docks.

  She didn’t reply. I wondered if I’d ever find out whether she'd heard.