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“All set,” Einar shouted.

The gun went full auto, and sparks flew, popping all over the hallway. Shots ricocheted until she felt sure crouching was the best idea ever. Rounds struck the panels where she was hiding and cut a peephole, so she could see how Jael was doing. He bled from several new wounds but the flow was sluggish, courtesy of freakishly fast coagulation. As for the hole, she could see light on the other side, but it wasn’t big enough for a person to pass through. Yet.

Soon he ran out of ammo, though. With a muted curse, Jael dropped the Shredder. “It’s safe.”

The R-17 unit whirred forward to inspect the damage and lights flashed on what would be the bot’s face if it were human. “The wall is damaged. It must be repaired.”

“Frag, no,” Jael protested. “It took all our firepower to accomplish this much—and it’s not enough.”

Wills came past Dred with clumsy urgency to stop the bot from deploying its hardware on the charred wall. From the bone-reader’s expression, he had an idea. She hoped it was a good one, as they were fresh out of resources.

“This isn’t a wall,” Wills told the bot. “This is a door. And it’s the door that’s not working. Initiate stuck-door protocol.”

The bot scanned the surface, then agreed, “Blast doors are fused. Solution may result in damage to organics. Please stand clear.”

“Is this thing packing explosives?” Dred asked.

Wills shrugged. “I’d step back, just in case.”

But instead of applying a putty charge, a thin wand extended from R-17’s front chassis and a red beam carved between the doors but was too weak to open the way on its own, given that the durasteel had been soldered from both sides.

“Repair failed. Analysis: Desired result impossible within current parameters. Recommended solution: Dispatch complete technical team from Repair and Salvage Operations.”

“If only,” Dred muttered.

They didn’t have a repair team to summon, but maybe Jael was on the right track when he mentioned a battering ram. She added, “The two of you managed to pull apart a Peacemaker unit. Until you did it, I’d have said it was impossible, too.”

Einar caught on right away. “You want us to tag team the door, using the blast hole as a handle?”

Wills said, “It’s possible you could bring enough pressure to bear to pull it apart . . . and if you create a gap, R-17 can run the minilaser again. It’s not meant for heavy cutting, but it might be able to weaken the seal enough for you to break it.”

“Best idea we’ve got,” Jael said. “Let’s do it.”

The two took up positions on either side, braced to begin as soon as Wills gave the order to the bot. Dred counted it down, then the show started. Muscles straining, they hauled until their shoulders popped. Each man grunted and swore, pushing beyond human capacity, and still they didn’t stop as the bot deployed the laser. The red line skimmed upward; and Dred was positive the door gave, just a little.

“One more time,” she suggested.

“One hernia coming up,” the big man mumbled. “Why the hell not?”

Jael didn’t reply, just set his feet and nodded with a bring-it-on light in his blue eyes. Wills checked the power readings on R-17, then said, “If it doesn’t work, we have to go back down for more gear. The bot’s almost out of juice.”

Dred inclined her head. “Noted. Now let’s get this done.”

It went off like clockwork between the crimson glow of the laser to the twin, straining biceps and thighs of the men to the left and right of the weld point. When the door gave, it sounded like the whole ship giving way. They were pulling so hard that both Jael and Einar fell, slamming hard into the corridor walls on either side. For a second, she wanted to go help Jael to his feet, but she froze the impulse and contented herself with an arched brow.

“You two all right?”

“I just need to cram my intestines back up inside,” Einar said. “No problem at all.”

“Did you really pop something? Shit.” Sometimes that required surgical intervention. He could die—and what a way to go out, slow and ugly. If it came to it, she wouldn’t let him suffer.

But to her relief, the big man smiled and shook his head. “Just screwing with you.”

Dred pushed out a slow breath and glared. “Asshole. You did good work, both of you.”

Never truer words. The doors stood open enough for the men to get inside and push them back. Since they were meant to retract into the walls, it was easy once the double-welded seam popped. When Jael turned back toward her, she noticed the red smeared all over his hands.

“What happened?”

He shrugged as if the sight of his own blood was nothing new. “I opened my palms on the burn hole I was using as a handle. It’ll close up by tomorrow.”

That doesn’t mean you aren’t hurting right now, you ass.

But she couldn’t be soft with anyone, even if, contrarily, he made her want to be because he was stoic to the point of insanity. She’d thought more than once that he wasn’t human, but after this run, she needed to know exactly what she’d welcomed into her territory. They were all monsters and outcasts, but sometimes the shading mattered. More information was critical. But she pretended to accept his words at face value. The conversation she intended to have with him wouldn’t occur in front of an audience, even part of her inner circle like Wills and Einar.

“Wrap it up. Queensland is doubtless full of bastards who have already given us up for dead and are taking wagers on who will replace me.”

“Tam,” Einar answered at once.

That gave her a twinge. “I offered, but he passed. Said the territory was mine.”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Wills said.

The big man corrected, “‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.’ It’s from an ancient play.”

Wills nodded in apparent appreciation. “Yes, that’s the line.”

She mock-scowled as the bone-reader shifted the air pallet from stationary to mobile mode. “Either way, there isn’t one. If I have to sit on that ass-ugly chair, I ought to get a scrap-metal tiara to go along with it.”

Jael aimed a warm look her way, one that had doubtless melted hearts all across the galaxy. “I’ll make you one, queenie.”

“Then my life would be complete,” she said dryly.

Such a handsome warrior was trouble on two legs, and, unfortunately, he knew exactly how attractive and charming he could be. Jael wore the attitude like armor, but Dred wondered just what lay beneath his determinedly bright exterior. He had no issue showing his physical peculiarities, but his emotions were completely armored. In a place like this, it was best not to show your underbelly to anyone . . . but she was still curious.


Tags: Ann Aguirre Dred Chronicles Science Fiction