Surprisingly, Ronan wasn't ready.

“Hunters are out now,” he argued. “There’s not a clear way to get to that section of the ship.”

“How do you keep it all straight?” I’d never realized how much I depended on my chrono until I didn't have access to it.

He just tapped the side of his head. “Good sense of time. Doc was practical that way.”

I did another check on Loree, but, no matter how many times I wanted to find something different, there wasn't anything I could do.

“Come on.” Ronan gently laid his hand on my shoulder. “You're the one who said I needed rest. It hasn’t been a full night. We’ll start our adventure in the morning.”

As we lay down, my head was full of questions about what we going to try to do, what sort of ship we might be able to call, everything.

But nothing kept me awake.

When we left, Loree was still resting. I made sure to leave some water and vials within easy reach.

"If we're here for much longer, I'm going to need to check that supply cabinet again."

"While we’re there, let’s get another fine selection of entrees," Ronan joked.

As we left the safety of the corridor, my nerves clinched, despite Ronan's assurance that the Hunters were back in their lair.

We crept through the empty deck and entered another stairwell, but this time headed down and far to the aft of the ship.

My footsteps rang on the metal stairs despite my best efforts. Ronan’s tread was silent. Training, genes, either way, not something they’d covered in med school.

"You haven't had access to the Star’s systems at all?" Even if the Hunters weren't around, I couldn't force myself to raise my voice above a whisper.

"Nope. I can work a comm just fine, but I'm no hacker."

As we emerged from the stairwell, the pipes and wires running along the walls made it very clear we were well beyond the passenger zones, deep into the working heart of the Star.

Ronan moved through the corridors cautiously, stopping to listen at each intersection. I hadn't considered that the Hunters would change their schedules. It didn't make me feel any better about this. But as we kept reminding each other, there weren’t a lot of choices.

A thought struck.

"Then why does our hatch show the corridor has no atmosphere? I thought you'd somehow fooled the ship's systems to not register it."

"Not quite that elegant, I'm afraid." He shrugged. "I pulled the wires."

My step froze as I considered the recklessness of that particular plan. "Did you know the wiring for that section was faulty?"

He slowed, eyes fixed on something I couldn't see again. "I didn't know anything. When I woke up…"

Ronan’s voice drifted off, and I didn't ask him for details. I didn't need them to know that something terrible had happened.

I brushed his hand, just to let him know I was here, hoping to bring him back. His fingers wrapped around mine tightly.

"I didn't know where I was, where I was going. Saw the warning sign, and thought that it would be a good way to end it all. Me, them, make the whole hell of it stop.”

My mind struggled through the mechanics of it. "It wasn't really a vacuum past the hatch, was it? It couldn't have been."

“No. There'd been a breach before, enough to kill everyone, but it was worse further down. Another hatch closer to the rupture sealed, leaving our compartment safe enough.”

He stopped again, waited at the next juncture. “Something in the electronics must have fried during the accident. The display never shut off.”

"And that's one reason we’re careful going into new sections," he added.

I shuddered as I finally understood. "We can't trust what's behind any door. If the ship thinks one area is open to vacuum and it's not..."

Ronan nodded grimly. "Then it's just as possible that it won't show the vacuum sign when it's there." He headed off. "No atmosphere, Hunters, or whatever. I’ll go through any doors first."

As we wound through the belly of the Star, I gaped at a set of large bay doors as we passed them.

"I know we've got engines to disable," I eyed the tempting doors. "But don't you wonder what's in there?”

No response.

"You said you'd never been down here, right?" I Iooked at the cargo hold doors. "There's no telling what's in there. More medicine, supplies." Ronan didn't look convinced. "Weapons," I teased.

“Vacuum. The cold embrace of space." But he put his hand to the door anyway.

From his expression it was clear that Ronan didn't want to linger. But he gave in, stepping in front of me before slapping the sensor for the cargo doors.

Entering the cargo bay, lights far overhead flickered on. About half of them failed immediately, but what was left was enough to see what lay within.

I wished he’d insisted we keep going.

A third of the cavernous room was filled with floor- to-ceiling shelves. Anything and everything could possibly be in the crates of all sizes stacked inside

But the other half drew our attention away from any possible treasure waiting for us.

Row upon row of cylinders stretching back into the depths of the cargo hold.

I found myself drawn to one in horror. A figure floated in blue gel, about my size, but so misshapen and deformed I couldn't tell if it had been male or female.

The next cylinder held something that looked as if it were designed to live on an aquatic planet.

In the next, and the next, and the next.

My mind faltered, unable to wrap around what I was seeing.

“Ronan, are these...”

"No. I've never seen them before. I don't know if they were captured, or just more failed experiments." His face set like stone, he walked away and began searching through the crates.

I couldn't help myself as I continued down the line, examining each cylinder, each body floating in the blue gel. Suspended and still. So like the containers that held Ronan’s brothers, but something was different.

Each tank had a number etched on the side. Someone was keeping careful track of their research. I couldn't take it anymore and hurried back to Ronan’s side.

"Anything interesting?"

"Not much we can use. A pair of knives that I think are for cooking, nothing that looked like medicine. A case of fancy looking liquor, but I don't think that's a good idea for any of us right now."

"Maybe when we get off this thing, we’ll take it with us."

"I don't think I want anything from this place, but if it amuses you, sure, we can grab a bottle or two."

I stared at the rows of crates. Probability would dictate that somewhere in all of that there would be something we could use. But even without Ronan's sense of time, I knew we had to keep moving.

There was no telling when we would arrive at the mysterious compound. And anyplace the Hunters wanted us to be, I wanted to avoid.

"I did find these." Ronan flipped open a small black case, revealing a dozen or so small, oddly shaped plugs.

"What are they?"

"Old-style comms. They're tethered to each other, doesn't look like they run through the ship." He closed the case and I slid it into the pocket of my skirt as we headed out of the room.

"We can check them out when we get out of here. But first, let's finish the job." I cast one last look back at the cylinders, the faint blue glowing beneath the failing lights. Whatever was bothering me would have to wait.

When we reached the engine room, my stomach sank. The chart on the tablet had looked manageable. This was anything but.

The bank of controls spiraled up, curving in a broad arc around the massive containment field surrounding the jump engine, spanning from the floor we’d entered on to an open balcony, overlooking the engine from above.

From what we had seen on Loree’s tablet, the controls for the manual override were positioned on each end of the spiral. One of us would need to be at each level.

“I don't like this,” Ronan growled.

"When we get back, we can make a list of all the things we don’t like about this entire set-up. I’m not sure where this particular thing ranks." To be honest, I didn't like it either, but the sooner we finished the job, the sooner we were back to safety.

First stop, making sure everything still worked. At the lower control station, the lights flickered to some unknown pattern, but the keyboard lit when my hand hovered over it.

“Let’s check the other one, make sure it's operational, as well.” Ronan waited for me to walk in front of him.

The dull whine of the containment field pressed on my brain like an itch I'd have to remove my skull to scratch.

At the top of the spiral, Ronan glared at the second keyboard, and it hit me. If the noise was annoying to me, it had to be driving him crazy.

"It looks exactly the way it said in the emergency manual." This one responded to my touch as well. "They both look operational. Let's get this done and go home." I grinned at him. “I think it's my night to cook.”

"That's not exactly an incentive."

I stuck my tongue out, but he was right.

"You stay up here," Ronan decided. "I'll take the panel closer to the door."

He leapt the railing, landing lightly on the lower floor as I wondered about his obsession with standing between me and doors.

Would it always be that way? If we got off this ship, made it back to Orem or another station, would he always be looking for threats?

A little ahead of yourself, Nadira. We haven’t exactly talked about what would happen when we got away. If we got away. Assuming Ronan would stick around was probably unwise.

"Ready?" he called up from below.

I nodded and, at the count of three, chanted off the keystrokes as we entered them simultaneously.

"8-A-C-F-6-4-8-0-5." But as I hit the last number, a spray of sparks exploded from the keyboard, knocking me back and away, into the dark.