Page 3 of Cloverleaf Station

“No need to get pissy, man.”

Knowing he’d regret his entire life if he said something right now, Kieron bit his lip hard enough to hurt while he waited for Dave to get his shit together. Almost an entire minute passed before Dave said, “Okay, Shuttle Bay Five opening in three … two … one …”

The massively thick door rose ponderously, and Kieron fired his engines again as he made sure his personal computer was locked on to Mason Bay’s signal. He still had them.

He flew out into the black the second there was enough space for his ship to squeeze under the door, kicking the Do into a brisk pace even as he engaged the autopilot. It was programmed to keep him in the shadow, which gave him the time he needed to get into his suit. Greenies were the thickest, heaviest, clumsiest space suits in the entire Alliance, but it was the best protection he could have against the radiation if he had no choice but to leave Big Momma’s shadow behind. He glanced at the timer as he attached the helmet. Six minutes until the Masons were toast.

“Uh, Kieron?”

Deep breath. He flicked on his external mic. “Yes?”

“The Masons are kind of freaking out over the comm.”

“Did you tell them I’m on my way?”

“I sort of thought you’d do that.”

“When have I”—when have I had time to do that, you fucking piece of—“Please let them know that I’m on the way.”

“Maybe you could—”

“I’ll contact them directly in a moment, just … talk to them, Dave. They need reassurance right now.”

“I’m not so good at reassurance.”

No fucking kidding. “Do your best.” Mason checked and rechecked all of his seams and seals, then settled back into the pilot’s seat. Five minutes. “Mason’s Bay, this is Daring Do, over. Mason’s Bay, do you copy?” Nothing. He repeated the transmission two more times and got no reply. “Dave, they’re not coming through, what’s happening out there?”

“Um, I think maybe something is wrong with their communication array?”

No shit. “Have you had any success getting through to them?”

“Nope. I stopped being able to hear them a minute ago.” He paused, then added, “It’s kind of nicer this way; they were starting to cry.”

“Mmm.” Kieron settled into his rage like shrugging on his favorite shirt. It was amazing how angry you could be while still functioning like a normal person. “Keep trying to reach them. Tell them I’m coming.” They were getting close to visual range. He flicked his cameras on and magnified the view. Only a few hundred kilometers now … soon they would be—

“Oh, shit.” They’d clearly been in some sort of collision—with a minor asteroid or a fracture from Big Momma, he didn’t know, but there was a cloud of silver particles surrounding the Bay, and it was spinning uncontrollably. The internal gyroscope was gone, then. “I’m going to have to lasso them.”

“You can’t. They’re too close to the line.”

“I have to.”

“Dude, seriously, the way they’re spinning, there’s no chance of making a lasso work. You won’t be able to hook it securely enough.”

“I will the way I’m using it.” Their cargo bay was already perforated and blowing its contents into space. He had his own mining explosives on board the Do; if he attached them to the lasso cable and shot it at just the right angle, he might be able to blast a hook through the back end of the Bay. Full power to the engines, and …

No time for second guessing. Just do it.

If you fail, at least you won’t have made things any worse.

Kieron ran as fast as he could to his own cargo bay, assembling his makeshift harpoon as quickly as he could. His cable seemed so delicate, given the task that was ahead of it. Was there any real way this could work?

It had to work. He used the smallest amount of explosives he had, just enough to make the ship’s hull fuse around the cable instead of breaking further apart and set the launcher. He raced back to the pilot’s seat just as his countdown got into the single digits.

Nine … Eight …

Kieron didn’t stop to think, just fired the cable. It jetted toward the Bay, moving fast.

Five … Four …