Page 229 of Red Scale Daddy
And between us and it?—
Reapers.
Several of them, clinging to the hull, firing intermittent bursts that splash against the ship’s shields in flickering waves of light.
My stomach drops.
“That’s not ideal,” I say.
Roma steps up beside me, eyes locked on the ship. “No.”
Pally exhales slowly. “Please tell me it still works.”
“It will,” she says.
“That is not the same as ‘yes.’”
She doesn’t answer.
I look at her. “Roma.”
She meets my gaze, and for the first time since this started, I see it—uncertainty.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Something worse.
Time.
“We have a very small window,” she says. “If we do not reach it and launch before those Reapers adjust their fire, we will not leave this hull.”
Pally swallows. “And getting to it?”
Roma looks back at the outer hatch, at the thin line between us and vacuum.
“We go outside,” she says.
I nod slowly. “Of course we do.”
Pally groans. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today.”
Roma moves to the gear racks, grabbing skinsuits and tossing them toward us. “Suit up. Two minutes of oxygen. Magnetic tethers. Stay close.”
I catch the suit, fingers fumbling as I pull it on. The material is cold against my skin, sealing tight with a hiss that sounds way too final.
Through the viewport, a Reaper shifts, turning slightly toward the service lock.
Like it knows.
“Roma,” I say quietly.
“I see it.”
Somewhere behind us, something explodes, the shockwave rattling through the structure.
Pally seals his suit and looks between us. “Tell me we’re going to make it.”
