The tunnels shook. This was so much worse than the last time we’d faced Corvus. I could feel the vessel straining all around us. I could picture what Aquila was doing, trying to avoid the energy cannon fire from the other ship. It almost paralysed me with terror.

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth and followed behind Lieutenants Johnson and Armstrong, with Hugo behind me. They looked worried, but it didn’t slow them down. In fact, I was certain they were moving faster with the more creaks and groans that the ship sounded out. It was as if the fear of what was happening to their vessel urged them on somehow.

I could do that, I thought. I could use my fear to make me stronger.

And then the main boost thrust stopped working. No more deep vibrations through the gel wall. No more subtle hum of sound in the background. We couldn’t, of course, hear anything from outside the hull, but inside sounded as much like the vacuum of space as out there right now.

“That can’t be good,” Hugo said behind me.

“Main boost thrust,” Johnson said, slowing down. “We’ve taken a hit to one of the nacelles.”

“The question is,” Hugo offered, “do they intend to wound us and go in for the kill?”

My fingers trembled with the amount of fear I was feeling.

“It can’t be their first thought,” Armstrong said. “They know we have civilians onboard.”

“But if they can’t get through to Aquila and whoever pushes the AI’s buttons,” Hugo offered, “then what choice do they have? They have a fleet to protect, and that’s not even considering ours.”

Johnson stopped, making everyone else stop as well.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, looking past me to the captain.

Hugo looked down at the wrist comm he’d put back on after we’d left the computer core.

“Maybe this can get us into comms somehow,” he said.

“We’d need the bridge for that, wouldn’t we?” Armstrong offered.

“The bridge will be heavily fortified,” Hugo offered. “But there is one other place that has fleet-wide comms capabilities.”

The two lieutenants looked directly at me.

“The mayor,” I whispered.

“Yes,” Hugo said carefully. “You could wait for us in the tunnels.”

I was already shaking my head.

Hugo looked at me, searched my eyes. Then he nodded.

“We can take advantage of the battle’s distraction and our teams confusing the mercs,” he said. “But we need to act now before Corvus does something we all will regret.”

“Deck A then,” Johnson said.

“Deck A,” Hugo offered more quietly.

We headed toward the only other inter-deck ladder still available to us. All the way I was sure Hugo was watching me for a sign I couldn’t do this. I would do this. I had to do this. There was no other option.

I hadn’t seen the mayor since that disastrous luncheon in my father’s quarters. Since my father had sold me to him to win his loyalty. I wondered how that was going for my dad right now. The mayor was not a patient man. He hadn’t received his payment. Would he be causing problems for my father? Was that something we could take advantage of?

The ladder appeared too quickly. I'd been deep in thought and not prepared myself for its arrival. But there it was. We could head down to the habitat decks. To Deck F and Mandy.

Or we could head up to Deck A where the bridge was. Where my father’s quarters were. Where the mayor had his mayoral offices.

You can be scared of something, even terrified, and still have the courage to do what’s required. I was terrified of my father and his toady, but I would not let my fear rule me. I would do what I had to do to put this right.

And we needed to do this to stop Corvus, to get help, to end Aquila’s madness.

To stop my father.

I hadn’t yet put into words what that would entail. I still wasn’t ready. I could only hope he was on the bridge where the captain should be. But knowing my dad, and knowing how he liked to be the top dog in any situation, I knew that’s where he would be.

I hoped the mayor was there, too. If he wasn’t in his quarters, then we could get in and get out again without having to see him. It felt a little cowardly thinking that, but I was OK with a small amount of avoidance if it meant we didn’t have to use the plasma guns on Hugo’s and Johnson’s hips.

I briefly touched the filleting knife on my hip and then started up the ladder.

I was proud of myself; my hands hardly shook. My knees held strong. We made the decks between us and the mayor’s offices in quick time, despite the rocking and rolling of the ship.

As we emerged onto Deck A, the ship was underway again.

“He’s using the auxiliaries,” Johnson advised.

“But he’ll have our engineering team working on the main boost thrust,” Hugo offered in a tone of disgust. They all scowled in agreement. “No movement out there,” he added, peering out of the grille on the hatch. “I would have expected at least a guard to be placed here.”

“They’ll be around the bridge like you said,” Armstrong offered. It almost sounded like he was wanting reassurance.

“I don’t like this,” Johnson said.

Hugo flashed him a grin, plasma pistol in hand, and said, “What’s not to like, Lieutenant?” And opened the hatch.

Johnson and Armstrong rolled out behind him, taking up positions in front of their captain in the next heartbeat. I slipped out next to Hugo, who was keeping the hatch open. He gave me a short nod of his head and then whispered, “Move out,” to the others.

We ran along the corridor toward the mayoral central hub. There was no way to know if Aquila had access to the security cameras on this deck, but I knew from previous experience that there were many. We could only hope the AI was busy fleeing Corvus or occupied with Mandy and the others.

I briefly wondered how Mandy was doing, and then pushed all those mixed up emotions aside. I had enough to contend with by being back on this deck.

We slowed as we approached the hub. I’d not come this way often when I’d lived up here. I’d avoided it like the plague more like. I waited behind Johnson and Armstrong while they checked the way was clear, and then followed the men and Hugo as they edged the wide open space, heading towards the mayor’s reception area.

I half expected his secretary to be there, but the place was empty.

Empty but not untouched.

Johnson whistled low. Armstrong sucked in a breath.

And Hugo said, “What the hell happened here?”

The desk was destroyed as if a giant had smashed a fist into it. The digi-plants were all dead, not even a flicker of light. The couches had little pieces of stuffing falling out. It took a moment for me to realise the holes had scorch marks around them from plasma fire.

The gel floor was clean as if it had wicked away any unwanted sights. But splattered against a pot plant in one corner and a section of the desk in another and the armrest of a chair in the centre was blood.

“If it wasn’t us then who?” Hugo asked.

“The leaseholder and mayor had a falling out?” Johnson offered.

They all looked at me.

“That could happen,” I said. I knew the mayor would not have liked my absence, maybe he complained too much.

“OK,” Hugo said, looking around the destroyed room. “That just means no one’s here.”

He headed toward the door that led into the mayor’s offices and quarters. Despite evidence to the contrary, I kept expecting the mayor to jump out at us. My heartbeat thumped mercilessly inside my chest. My palms were coated in sweat. I caught myself lifting a thumb to my lips, but my nails had been bitten down long ago, and there was nothing left.

I swallowed my fear and frustration down and entered the mayor’s offices behind Hugo’s men.

There wasn’t much more here to speak of. Just the shattered remains of a once proud man. His too big desk destroyed, his liquor cabinet smashed to pieces. His chair sitting at an odd angle, blood splatters all over it.

“Shit,” Armstrong said.

“Find the comms unit,” Hugo ordered grimly.

My courage felt cheated.

I could actually feel every beat of my heart inside my chest. It hurt.

My jaw ached from where I was clenching it.

Hugo placed a hand on my shoulder briefly and then went to where Armstrong had located the comms unit. Johnson, I had noted, had remained by the door with his plasma rifle at the ready.

There was only one way in or out of here; I didn’t want to think about what would happen if Aquila sent mercs in behind us.

I crossed to the comms unit, silently urging the men onward. Armstrong was trying to enter commands. Lights had been activated. I felt a surge of hope. Hugo lifted the wrist comm to the unit and opened a channel. He hurriedly typed out a message and hit send.

We waited, and we watched as the lights flickered and the message flew through the void of space to its destination; any ship other than ours.

And I felt the resultant message as if I’d been punched in the gut.

“Shit,” Hugo said. “We’re on our own.”

I'd never felt more alone than I did right then.