The side of the cube filled the holographic display, the blue-black metal hull seeming to swallow the light of the sun and the stars instead of reflecting it back. A few trenches and panels marked the otherwise flat surface, and Katie followed one of those trenches now, reminded of the scene in Star Wars where Luke had to hit a bull’s-eye. Too bad she couldn’t just shoot at a target and destroy this thing.

Ahead of her, the trench transitioned into a shaft, diving into the interior of the cube. According to the sensors, a forcefield covered the entrance. That entrance looked more like an airlock than the vent or duct cover she had expected, like something ships were actually meant to use. She decided to find that promising, so long as they didn’t crash into a Zi’i shuttle on its way out.

“Transmitting Dr. Tala’s song,” Orion said.

Katie kept going, knowing she could pull up at the last moment if needed.

She watched the area nearby as she closed, half expecting TIE fighters to streak out of hiding with some furry Darth Vader in command of the squadron. But so far, neither the weapons platform nor its crew had done anything to impede her approach. Maybe whoever was inside thought a shuttle was too small to waste a rocket on.

“Nothing’s happening,” Katie said, ready to twitch her fingers in the gel, to swing them out of the trench if need be. “The forcefield is still up.”

“If it doesn’t work, there’s nothing else we can do,” Orion said.

“Dropping the warhead out the door won’t work, huh?”

“Doubtful,” Orion said. “I think we’re going to need to plant it somewhere sensitive.”

“How about up some Zi’i commander’s ass?”

“If the case will fit, I’m game.”

“Try transmitting again,” Katie said, starting to pull up. “Or is there another opening we can try?”

A beep came from the sensor display.

“Wait, it’s down,” Orion blurted.

Katie made a quick adjustment. They dipped back down and sailed through the opening.

The shaft was unlit inside, but their running lights shined on more blue-black metal, revealing a continuation of the trench, now fully enclosed. Covered conduits ran along the sides. Maybe that was Zi’i plumbing, carrying their waste out to dump into space.

“We’re in too,” Zakota said over the comm, the words probably for his captain rather than her.

Katie could see his shuttle following them, his lights bright on her rear display.

“There are hatches on the sides of the shaft,” Orion said, pointing as one whizzed past.

Katie slowed their speed. “Are we supposed to stop at one or keep going to the end?”

Orion shrugged, his armored shoulders lifting. “As far as I’ve heard, intel doesn’t have any schematics on the inside. We’re just hoping that our team can find a good spot to place bombs.”

“No Bothan spies in this galaxy, eh?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

They passed another dark hatch. The sensors were having trouble taking readings in the shaft, and Katie had no idea if a more promising landing spot was coming up.

“These shuttles don’t have airlocks, do they?” Katie asked, thinking of the single hatch on the side.

“No, but we can shoot out in our armor and cut our way in. We brought tools for that.”

“What happens to me when you open the hatch, and I’m inside? Without armor?”

Orion pressed a button on a side panel, a buzz sounded, and a pulse of light came from behind Katie. He reached back and touched a transparent field—an internal forcefield?

“This will hold atmosphere in the cockpit area here,” he said.

“How come you knew about that and I didn’t?” Katie squinted as the lights played over something ahead. A bulkhead? A dead end in the shaft?

“Hierax told me about that feature. I asked earlier if Zakota could pilot us without going back for his armor.”

“But not about me?”

“At the time, I didn’t know you were flying. Or coming along. Zakota ended up having his armor brought over, but I guess nobody thought about you.”

Yeah, because nobody on the Falcon knew she was here. She couldn’t blame anybody except herself for that.

The shaft ended, and Katie slowed them further. “We’re going to have to back track to one of those hatches, I guess. Wait, there’s something to the sides.”

She dropped the shuttle to a hover at the end. Wide alcoves opened to either side. The conduits turned into them, and pipes, tanks, and strange machinery occupied much of the space. There was enough room for a shuttle to land. For two shuttles to land.

“I’m parking here, Zakota,” Katie said as soon as she checked the sensors to make sure there weren’t more forcefields blocking the way.

“Right behind you.”

She settled them onto the deck, the shuttle’s nose touching something that looked like a giant power generator.

“Any chance we can dump the warhead out here?” she asked.

Or maybe they could cut through some of those conduits. How effective could a weapons platform crew be with raw sewage flowing all over the place?

“Our teams will take a closer look when they go out,” Zakota said. “It sure would be nice if the machinery out there was critical to operations, and our mission could be that easily accomplished.”

Judging by his tone, he didn’t think that would be the case.

Katie wondered if anyone on the combat team had expertise with machinery and infrastructure. Were they all just fighters? If so, how would they know enough to choose a good target? Maybe Hierax had given them some instructions before sending them off.

Orion patted her on the shoulder, pressed the button to lower the interior barrier, stepped out, and waved for her to bring it up again. He fastened his helmet as he joined the other men at the hatch. The ensigns were also fully suited up, and one carried the warhead case under his arm.

Katie raised the interior barrier again.

“Wish us luck,” Orion said, and tapped the hatch controls.

“Good luck,” Katie murmured, trying not to think of Lieutenant Arkyn and the horrifying way the warship had blown up. So much for Sagitta’s battle prize.

“Magnetize your boots, boys,” Mikolos said, stepping forward to lead the way out.

The hatch opened, and fear rushed into Katie’s heart as she heard the air whooshing out. She gripped the console, imagining her legs flying up as she was sucked out into space. But the forcefield protected her, and not so much as a console alarm went on.

The men strode out in their armor, their magnetized boots keeping them from floating out of the shuttle. Since Katie could see walls and a floor out there, it was strange to think that there was no gravity or atmosphere, but that was presumably the case. She couldn’t read the sensor display to know for certain. If she stayed out here in space instead of going back to Earth, she would have to learn Dethocolean. Or Zi’i. Thanks to the Star Guardian device jury-rigged into the console, both languages displayed. Zi’i looked like chicken scratches, though, so even a Hooked on Phonics course probably wouldn’t teach her to read it.

The last man—Bystrom—walked out. None of them had bothered to tell her when they would be back or what she was supposed to do if they didn’t come back. She figured they were chattering to each other on their helmet comms, and maybe they’d filled Zakota in on their plans, but she couldn’t help but feel ostracized. It would have been nice if one of them had acknowledged that her flying had been fine on the way over here, despite their reservations.

Katie sighed to herself. “This isn’t the time to be self-absorbed, girl.”

At least Orion had given her a pat before leaving.

“Are you talking to yourself over there, Katie?” came Zakota’s drawl over the comm.

She smiled. At least she wasn’t completely alone.

“I have to. Nobody else will.”

“Oh? Was your combat team not suitably charming and conversational?”

“No on both accounts. How was your team?”

“They were too busy talking about how they were going to blow things up to bother me. And I was too busy worrying about everything else.” For his next words, his voice grew lower, the drawl disappearing, along with all his humor. “Arkyn didn’t make it.”

“I saw. I’m sorry. I wish—I shouldn’t have suggested he stay on the ship.”

“It made sense. I don’t think Sagitta’s original idea would have been enough. I think Arkyn knew it too. It’s not easy, but we all knew when we signed on… this is the deal.”

Katie remembered that Zakota had been planning to sacrifice himself, and his team, before the Falcon 8 had shown up. The entire mission had grown a lot more real in the last fifteen minutes. For the first time, she questioned what she was doing here, why she had fought so hard to come along and fly. Oh, she’d wanted the experience of piloting a spaceship, and she still hoped for a chance at the helm of the fire falcon, but if she died in this giant alien cube, would it have been worth it?

“Can you tell what’s going on out there?” she asked. “My sensor display used to show a lot more, but now it’s just this little alcove and the shaft.”

“I can’t see what’s going on, either, and I can’t communicate with the ship—the Falcon. I’m assuming there’s dampening or scrambling technology built into the hull of the weapons platform.”

Katie absorbed that with unease. That meant every human ship could be destroyed, along with Dethocoles, and they wouldn’t know, not until they flew out again. Assuming they got the chance to do that.

“Do you think the Zi’i know we’re here?” Katie looked around the empty shuttle, feeling alone without the burly men there, and realizing she didn’t have any weapons, no way to protect herself if an alien forced its way inside. Hell, would the Zi’i even have to “force” their way in? This was their shuttle. Maybe it would see them coming, pop the hatch, roll out a carpet, and start playing luau music.

“It would be surprising if they didn’t,” Zakota said. “I suppose there’s a chance the weapons station is completely automated, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Sagitta mentioned that intel reported Zi’i inside of it.”

“Yeah.” Katie didn’t know what else to say. She was tempted to find a bar to jam through the hatch handle to see if that would keep it from opening. Or did that only work in cartoons?

“I suspect we got in without much opposition because they didn’t think we’d know how to bypass the forcefields.”

“You don’t consider what we faced much opposition?” Katie almost pointed out that the Star Guardians had lost a ship and one of their officers, but she didn’t want to rub salt in that wound.

“It could have been worse.”

She also chose not to point out how he’d almost sacrificed himself and his team.

“But it would be foolish to assume they didn’t notice us slipping in,” Zakota continued. “Unfortunately, with the sensors so limited in range right now, anyone that comes to investigate us will get pretty close before we know they’re there.”

“Comforting.”

When he didn’t respond to that, she wondered if she should have been less of a downer. But it was hard to be optimistic in this situation. What happened after the men planted the warheads? She assumed there were countdown timers and that they would give themselves time to race back to the shuttles and fly away. But what if they decided someone had to stay with them to make sure the Zi’i couldn’t disarm them? More sacrifices? Or what if the shuttles couldn’t get away quickly enough, and the cube imploded around them?

Were these men even meant to survive this mission? Or had Captain Sagitta believed there was a good chance he was sacrificing them when he’d chosen them for it? And if so, could she be bitter, when he and his crew were out there, being pummeled right now? What were the odds that any of them would make it out?

“You all right, Katie?” Zakota asked quietly, as if he could guess her thoughts.

Maybe he was having similar thoughts.

“Not really.”

“Regretting that you volunteered for this?”

“Considering I would have been blown up along with Arkyn if I’d stayed on the warship, no, I’m not.”

She thought he might point out that she could have stayed on a space station in an entirely different star system, but he didn’t. Good. She didn’t want a lecture. It was bad enough she’d played a role in Arkyn’s death. She kept expecting somebody to point that out, to blame her.

And she would deserve it. Maybe the warship had been put to better use because he’d stayed behind. But she hadn’t been thinking about that. She’d just been thinking of convincing Zakota that she should fly one of the shuttles on the mission, that she could be an integral part of a team, for the first time in a long time. That she could matter.

“Want me to come over there?” he asked.

Was he looking around his empty shuttle and also facing his self doubts in the lonely silence?

“Is that allowed? Or possible?” she asked.

“I have my combat armor on.”

“Seems I’m the only one who didn’t get a packing list.”

“I’d say we could have borrowed someone’s armor for you, but I’m sure everyone on the Falcon is wearing theirs right now. I’ll come over there.”

“What if the men come back, and we have to leave in a hurry?”

“I’m in touch with them. They’re sneaking around now, trying to avoid notice while looking for the equivalent of the engineering room. I’ll know when they’ve planted the warhead and are coming back.”

“You’re welcome to visit then,” Katie said.

Judging by how soon her hatch opened, Zakota had already been on his way over. He stepped inside, closed the hatch, and faced her. The forcefield was still up.

“Want me to press the button to lower that?” she asked, waving at the console. “And if I do, will there be enough air for me to breathe?”

“I suspect the environmental system can refill the shuttle with air, but I’m not sure how many times it can do it. The shuttle isn’t that large, and there aren’t big tanks back there with the engine. Better keep it up.”

He poked the air with his finger to find the location of the forcefield. It buzzed at him. Then he sat down against the hull between it and the hatch.

“I’m starting to miss chairs,” he said, letting his helmet clunk back against the hull.

Katie stepped down from her box and thought about sitting on it. Instead she sat on the deck next to Zakota, the forcefield between them. It was too bad they couldn’t lean shoulder to shoulder, too bad he couldn’t take that helmet off.

“One way or another, our time on Zi’i ships should be coming to an end soon,” Katie said.

“Yes.” He turned his helmet and gazed at her through his faceplate. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”

“You didn’t get me into anything. I got myself into this.”

“I chose to let you. I could have said no to your requests, at least until this was all over.”

“I’m persuasive when I request things.”

“The captain managed to say no.”

“Only because he fled whenever I approached,” Katie said, “so I wasn’t able to ply him with my entire arsenal of persuasiveness.”

“So my mistake was in… not fleeing from you?”

“Exactly.”

“Huh. I’m not used to fleeing from women. Occasionally, women flee from me.”

“Just in general or because you’re trying to sell them charms?”

“The latter, I believe.”

“If I hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have gotten a kiss on the bridge,” she pointed out.

“This is true. And that would have been tragic. I liked that kiss. It’s too bad there’s a forcefield between us, or we could while away our waiting time with more kisses.”

“The helmet would also be problematic.”

“True. So many obstacles between us. It’s as if the gods aren’t on our side.”

“Probably because you left all your talismans on the bridge of the Falcon,” Katie said. “The gods must be on the side of whoever’s sitting in your seat.”

“Asan. I’m going to be upset if I get back and find out someone was kissing him.”

Zakota smiled fondly at her through his faceplate, and she wished once again that nothing stood between them. She would have liked to touch his face. He looked like he could use a gentle touch. Despite the smile, a sadness lurked in his eyes, a sadness that wasn’t usually there. Was he thinking of his lost comrade? Or of the fact that they, too, might be lost before the day ended?

“What will you do,” he asked quietly, “after this is over?”

“Assuming we get out of this cube?”

“Yes, and that Dethocoles is still standing when we do so.”

That seemed a lot to assume, but she went along with it. “If your people let mine go back to Earth, I guess I’d want to go home first, of course, but I’d hope… it would be a shame not to have access to the rest of the galaxy, now that I know it’s out there. And flying a plane around the Southwest seems boring and tame in comparison to piloting spaceships. If it was possible, I suppose I’d want to get a license to fly out here.”

“It is hard being confined to one planet after you’ve known the entire galaxy.” He tilted his helmeted head. “What if you had to choose? Between Earth and the rest of the galaxy? Between your friends back home and your new friends here?”

“Is that what we are? New friends?”

“We’re new… something. Because I opted not to flee. Now you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s all right. I would regret not being able to say goodbye to my sister and my friends back home and letting them know that I’m alive and well. And I suppose I’d want my mom to know that, too, though I’m not entirely sure it matters to her one way or another.”

He lifted a hand, as if to reach out to her, but must have remembered the forcefield because he lowered it again.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I got used to her indifference—or maybe her self-centeredness—a long time ago.” Besides, she had a self-centered streak too. It must run in the genes. “But if I had to choose, and it was a choice for the rest of my life, I think I’d choose the adventure of the unknown.”

“And new friends,” Zakota said.

“And new friends, preferably ones who can write me recommendations to help me get into a flight school. Assuming that’s a thing out here.”

He snorted. “Yes, only four planets and two stations have civilian spaceflight academies. The space fleet has its own, of course, but unless you want to sign up for the military, that wouldn’t be an option. The civilian academies usually have a waiting list. A recommendation from someone important can get you bumped up to the top.”

“Are you important?” She grinned at him. “As a Star Guardian helmsman?”

“Not particularly. If you want to be trained as a shaman on Amalcari, I could give you a useful recommendation for that.”

Katie wrinkled her nose. Visiting his planet sounded about as appealing as being beaten by hickory sticks.

“If Sagitta said he liked your flying, that would be about as good of a recommendation as you could get,” Zakota said. “The academy heads would punch each other in the faces as they competed to get you as a student.”

“I’d probably have to get him to stop fleeing from me to notice that I’m not a half bad pilot,” Katie said.

“Maybe I could stand behind him and block his route.”

“That seems like a good plan to me. By the way, does he know I’m over here yet?”

“I’m not positive he doesn’t know.”

“Wonderful.”

“If Lieutenant Coric was monitoring our comm chatter between the two shuttles, she might have told him you were at the helm on one, but it’s possible they’ve been too busy with their own skirmishes out there to pay attention.”

Katie vowed to make Sagitta aware of the help she had provided, assuming they got out of here and she had that chance.

Abruptly, Zakota rose to his feet. The forcefield buzzed as his armored shoulder brushed it, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Something’s coming,” he said.

“Your combat teams returning?” Katie asked, though she doubted it.

“No.”