“Stealth mode is off, and we’re on final approach. Defensive satellites appear to be deactivated.” Dante’s voice boomed over their comms a few minutes later.
“I told you I had those handled,” Eric muttered, but he didn’t activate his comms. Dante didn’t need the distraction right now.
Cris chuckled. “Don’t let him get to you. You know he’s just trying to get under your skin.”
“Yeah. Buttercup’s grumpy because he has to sit this one out. You know he hates to miss a fight.” Aria was checking her own gear as she spoke, strong fingers flying over every piece of equipment with a confidence born of years of practice.
“He’s also got an open comm channel and can hear everything you say. Behave yourselves, or I might accidentally fly us into some turbulence,” Dante said, his deep voice holding just a trace of laughter.
“Not funny, Strak. There’s no turbulence in space. It’s a fraxxing vacuum,” their commander growled.
“Yeah, just like the space between Trip’s ears.” Aria reached over to cuff the blond lieutenant on the shoulder.
“Bite me, Blink,” Trip retorted.
“Why Crispin Charles Caldwell, is that an invitation?” Aria almost purred in response.
For a minute, Cris looked like he was going to say something, but he pressed his lips together and stayed quiet.
Idiot. Everyone on the team had been watching the two of them dance around each other for what seemed like forever. He’d lost good money betting that they’d have gotten together by now, but for some reason, it hadn’t happened. Whatever madness had infected more than half the team, it hadn’t hit them yet. It would eventually, and when that happened, he and Kurt would be the last bachelors standing.
Dax rapped his knuckles against the side of the ship. “Settle down, you lunatics, or do I have to ask Dante to pull this ship over?”
They all laughed.
“Let’s go over the plan one more time.” Dax pointed to Kurt. “Go.”
“When we get close enough, we scan for lifeforms. Once we know where the bad guys are, we split into teams and go hunting. I’m with Blink,” Kurt stated.
“Trinity is with me,” Dax said.
“And Trip watches my back while I take control of the station’s systems. Then we’ll join the hunt,” Eric added.
Dax didn’t react much—he just raised one dark brow. “That’s not the plan, Ensign.”
Eric raised his chin and stood his ground. “With all due respect, sir, it’s not going to take me more than a few minutes to access those systems. Once that’s done, I request that Trip and I take part in the main mission.”
“Taking down the station’s defenses and ensuring no one leaves is part of that mission,” Dax replied, his tone firm.
“Yes, sir. I know, sir, but I…”
“We wouldn’t be here without him, Fido. He’s earned the right,” Kurt said.
“He’s too close to this,” Dax argued.
“We’ve all been there.” Kurt’s gaze slid to Trinity, then back to Dax. The mission where the now-married pair had reunited had been a complicated one.
“He’s got a point,” Trin said, the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile.
Dax sighed. “Lieutenant West-Rossi, whose side are you on?”
She gave him a sharp salute and then winked. “That depends if we’re in or out of uniform, sir.”
Dax growled at her, straightened, and looked at Eric. “Alright. Once you’ve got the station secured, you and Caldwell can join us. I’ll assign sectors once we have a headcount and know where everyone is.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted the commander, then gave a small nod of thanks to both Kurt and Trin.
“Moving into position now. Prepare for boarding.” Dante announced, and instantly everyone took their places.
“Life signs?” Dax asked.
“I’ve got blind spots, but…” Dante snarled a curse in Torski. “We’ve got incoming. There are ten life signs heading your way, moving fast.”
“Get us inside now!” Dax commanded.
“That’s what she said. I mean, yes, sir. Right away.” Dante brought the Malora in against the hull of the station, and Kurt activated the boarding clamps. They slammed against the hull with a teeth-rattling clang, followed closely by the torturous hiss of cutting lasers carving into metal.
“Time,” Dax barked.
“Eight seconds. Seven. Six. Five,” Kurt continued the countdown. At the two-count, the Malora’s airlock opened, and Eric tensed, adrenaline surging through his body, making everything sharper and brighter.
The hull started to fall the second the lasers finished cutting, and they were on the move before the thick slab of metal hit the deck.
The air sizzled, the metal still glowing as they passed through the newly created doorway. Alarms wailed, and the steady pulse of automated weaponfire sounded and then stopped as Trinity raised her blaster and shot out the first of the station’s defenses.
His teammates fanned out and covered the hall, but he turned his back on the oncoming attackers and moved toward the nearest system access point. Cris was only two steps behind him, and Eric trusted him to watch his back.
He placed his hand on the access panel and started his attack, deactivating anything that even looked like it might be part of the station’s defenses. It was slow going, and after twenty or so seconds he snarled in frustration. “I’m going to have to go all the way in. You got this?”
Cris nodded sharply, his gaze never leaving the battle that was starting just a few meters down the hall. “Do it. Just don’t fall asleep in there.”
“I’ll try to stay awake, can’t let you bunch have all the fun,” he shot back, then popped a jack into the data port in his arm and inserted the other end into the station’s main system. Reality vanished, replaced by the silent and ethereal beauty of cyberspace.
Thousands of data streams flowed like quicksilver rivers, their courses unaffected by mundane concepts like gravity. Quantum helixes towered in the distance, and packets of information streaked by, lighting up the datasphere as they passed. Some of the rivers were barely more than a trickle, and there were gaps in the towers that filled the horizon, both signs there were pieces missing. He’d been expecting that. Wiping a computer system during a bugout was standard practice, but most people forgot that data was harder to eliminate than a Jeskyran roach infestation. There would be redundancies, cache files and other places where the information still resided, and he focused on finding those and shunting the contents to the Malora’s systems via the connections he maintained with the ship.
There was something familiar about the landscape of the place. Like he was walking through a neighborhood he’d visited before. There wasn’t time to figure it out, though. He had work to do, and he set to it with glee. He altered the flow of the data streams, twisting them back on themselves, creating feedback loops that crippled the system. He disrupted systems, redirected information, and turned the elegant flow of data into a swirling vortex of chaos. The system quickly overloaded, and the automated systems crashed one by one, leaving his team with only the human defenders to deal with.