Chapter Forty-One
Wiry, gray-green moss slushed and popped beneath Connor’s booted feet as he hauled the last of the heavy cargo cases from the Lucky Sevens passenger bay. He set the case down at the edge of the semicircle he and Selen had created with the gear unpacked from the shuttle.
There were twelve containers in all, half of them the standard gray and olive cases that filled much of Lucky Sevens’s cargo hold. The other half were Mosiah’s reinforced containers, which seemed to be loaded with gold or lead.
Selen had stripped out of her armor for the work. Now her black T-shirt clung wetly to her long frame. She looked dangerously lean, as if the planet were sucking away her strength. “That’s it.”
“We can pull out tools and empty oxygen tanks.” Connor scraped his boots against the bottom of the case, peeling moss from the soles.
“Do it. Every kilogram matters.”
“All right.” Salty sweat dripped into his mouth.