Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

In Connor’s experience, chaos had a way of snowballing. If one system failed, it led to other systems failing. If a mercenary botched his duty, another overcompensated or panicked and failed hers.

That was what was happening to the Lucky Sevens.

One after the other, lights on the co-pilot panel flickered between amber and red before settling confidently into the red. Warnings beeped from his headset and flashed on his pocket computer display. The ship went from shuddering and creaking to outright bouncing and shrieking.

Martienne’s chair emitted a loud squeal when she spun it around. “Life support is out.”

“I know.” Connor had thought it might be failing when it spat hot, fetid air at him.

But that wasn’t a crisis, not compared to the other systems.

The landing gear light hadn’t budged off its ugly, hateful red in four minutes.

On the main display, the belly camera showed spurts of heat far below.

Gunfire. Lots of it.