Page 211 of Red Scale Daddy
“Is it?” Pally snaps, voice ragged. “Because from where I’m standing, the objective keeps changing every time one of you twodecides to have an emotionally constipated death wish in the middle of a corridor.”
I shoot him a look. “Not helping.”
“No, I’m helping plenty. I’m the only one here saying the obvious thing out loud.” He jabs a finger toward Roma’s back. “She needs to stop trying to die efficiently, and you need to stop looking at her like you’re about to tackle her into personal growth.”
Roma’s pace falters by half a step.
I catch it.
Of course I catch it.
“You heard him,” I say.
She keeps moving. “I heard noise.”
Pally throws both hands up. “Oh, she’s hilarious now. Wonderful. We’re all growing.”
A metallic shriek rips through the corridor behind us. Not close enough to see, but close enough to feel it in the soles of my boots. The hatch we came through shudders once, then again, and the manual lock gives a tortured groan.
Roma turns sharply. “Move faster.”
We do.
The corridor narrows, forcing us into a rough line. Pally takes point for three steps, realizes he has no idea where he’s going, and immediately slows.
“Left or right?” he asks.
Roma slips past him. “Left.”
“Great. Love left. Big fan of left.”
We cut left into a service artery lined with pressure pipes and ruptured conduits. Steam hisses from a cracked valve, damp and hot against my face. The sudden humidity clings to my skin, mixing with sweat under my collar. My palms sting where the ladder tore at them, and my ribs ache every time the ship kicks under us.
Roma stops at an inset panel beside a sealed hatch and rips the cover off.
Pally looks over her shoulder. “Please tell me that opens.”
“It opens,” she says, fingers flying over exposed wires.
I hear what she doesn’t say.
I step closer. “Roma.”
“Not now.”
“Yeah, now.”
She twists two wires together. Sparks snap blue-white, bright enough to make her flinch, but she doesn’t pull away. “We have Reapers in the infrastructure, environmental failure spreading from mid-deck, and an unknown external entity making contact with the hull. Pick a better time.”
“There isn’t a better time.”
Pally groans. “I swear on every god that has ever ignored me, if you two start making eyes and speeches right now?—”
“I’m not making a speech,” I say.
Roma yanks another wire loose. “Then be quiet.”
“No.”
