Page 147 of Red Scale Daddy
“Had worse mornings.”
“You are also arrogant.”
“Probably.”
“And emotionally compromised.”
“Definitely.”
Pally studies me for a long moment, and I let him. Let him see the blood, the shaking hands, the fury, the fear I am not bothering to hide. Let him figure out that whatever I was when Roma dragged me into this nightmare, I am something else now.
Finally, he turns back to the controls.
“Fine,” he says. “You want to help get my daughter back?”
I bare my teeth. “More than I want my next breath.”
“Then sit down before you collapse on something important.”
I drop into the nearest seat because my legs choose that moment to make a compelling argument. The med kit slides across my lap, and I tear it open with clumsy fingers while Pally drives his impossible little ship deeper into the core.
He does not trust me.
Good.
I do not trust him either.
But Roma is alive somewhere ahead of us, trapped on a Reaper vessel with a man who thinks people are tools, and I have already decided how this ends.
I am getting her back.
CHAPTER 23
ROMA
Throgg’s engineering deck breathes like a machine that has forgotten it was built by living hands.
The walls pulse with low amber light, each panel shifting through diagnostic patterns that crawl along the seams like contained fire. Heat radiates from the main conduit spine running beneath the grated floor, warming the soles of my boots until every step reminds me that this vessel is burning energy at a rate no sane system would sustain without desperation behind it.
I stand beneath the central drive assembly with a Reaper guard three meters behind me and Throgg watching from the upper platform.
He thinks I am looking for flaws.
I am.
He thinks I am looking for ways to improve his ship.
I am doing that too.
He does not yet understand that every useful answer I give him will be measured against the question that matters: how do I get out?
“Your stabilizer architecture is elegant,” I say, turning slowly beneath the suspended power column. “Expensive, overbuilt, and wasteful, but elegant.”
One of the Reaper engineers makes a faint clicking sound from the far console.
Throgg’s voice carries down from above, calm and cool. “Your appreciation is buried under insult.”
“My insults are usually more obvious.”
