Free Forged by Battle (WarVerse Book 1) by Patrick J. Loller Page B
Authors: Patrick J. Loller
saved was waking up, he wandered over, and hadn't really thought any further than that.
So he found himself in a conversation he felt like he maybe shouldn't have been in, and thought maybe that corpsman should be examining her. The poor girl was probably in shock, spouting off all sorts of wild ideas, like that she had started a fire that could be seen from space. She seemed genuinely concerned about it.
Weirdest thing was, he remembered rescuing a red head down on the planet. But this was definitely a brunette lying on the cot, and there weren’t any other pretty civilians lying in the sick bay. The fires and the “emergency landing” must have thrown him off.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"On a ship called Inferno. Like that poem," he explained, then wondered if that was supposed to be classified. She was an experimental new ship, but they’d also painted the name in forty-foot letters along the side.
"A ship? So we left that planet?"
"Yeah, I found you at a lake. You must have been running from the fire. I'm sure your memory will come back to you."
"Why don't I remember anything?"
"I think I can field that question." The corpsman had finally arrived. Vincent stood up from the seat beside the bed and moved back.
"I'll come check on you later, okay?" Vincent said without thinking. She smiled at him. Slag, she's pretty .
"I have it from here, flyboy." The corpsman pushed him towards the door. Anyone else and Vincent would have said something, but corpsmen could get away with talking to an officer like that. They were arrogant, but completely necessary, and untouchable. Vincent barely heard him as he was ushered out of the med bay.
He was halfway back to the hangar before he even thought about where he was going. He shook his head. Why was he so distracted? Then he felt a wave of guilt; it had been a long time since he thought of his father or Rodrom. He still hadn't written that eulogy.
He didn't have the luxury of time to grieve, though; he needed to get back to his fighter and start repairs. Otherwise the mechanics would start on it, and who knew what sort of damage they could cause in the short time he was away. He picked up the pace, nearly running as he hopped through the emergency bulkhead doors. Hopefully Rover had kept the mechanics away. He would try and sort out the stuff in his head when everything else settled down.
Chapter 17
The Exile
The Exile had no trouble hiding in the vast ship named Inferno . The crew stayed in the main corridors, or in the rooms they connected, never straying into the maze of subcorridors that led everywhere, where wires and ducts connected the various systems. These engineering crawlspaces were used almost exclusively by droids, and they didn't notice her.
Crawling with only one arm proved a challenge. And though it would have been far easier to draw her Shell for support, the Exile steadfastly refused to be limited by her disfigurement.
Her Shell looked more and more promising as she continued, as the ship was absolutely filled with unsecured AMI units, and it felt as though she were hiding in a concert hall full of people screaming.
Each presence, each unimportant passing thought was like a gunshot through her mind. An overbearing cacophony that caused her to become disoriented. So many people on the ship so woefully unaware of what they were doing. She tried to hold her Web tighter, but the pressure was too strong, and the crawlspace was oppressively small. The tiny space seemed to close in on her as she lost herself to the Web.
The duct she was in opened further ahead into one of the human waste rooms. A momentary release of her tightly held Web to probe inside revealed no one was beyond the vent, and she kicked out the metal between her and the room and slipped inside. Once she was through the hatch, she locked the door and concentrated on drawing in her sense of self once more. With so many errant thoughts crowding into her mind, it was difficult to know
So he found himself in a conversation he felt like he maybe shouldn't have been in, and thought maybe that corpsman should be examining her. The poor girl was probably in shock, spouting off all sorts of wild ideas, like that she had started a fire that could be seen from space. She seemed genuinely concerned about it.
Weirdest thing was, he remembered rescuing a red head down on the planet. But this was definitely a brunette lying on the cot, and there weren’t any other pretty civilians lying in the sick bay. The fires and the “emergency landing” must have thrown him off.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"On a ship called Inferno. Like that poem," he explained, then wondered if that was supposed to be classified. She was an experimental new ship, but they’d also painted the name in forty-foot letters along the side.
"A ship? So we left that planet?"
"Yeah, I found you at a lake. You must have been running from the fire. I'm sure your memory will come back to you."
"Why don't I remember anything?"
"I think I can field that question." The corpsman had finally arrived. Vincent stood up from the seat beside the bed and moved back.
"I'll come check on you later, okay?" Vincent said without thinking. She smiled at him. Slag, she's pretty .
"I have it from here, flyboy." The corpsman pushed him towards the door. Anyone else and Vincent would have said something, but corpsmen could get away with talking to an officer like that. They were arrogant, but completely necessary, and untouchable. Vincent barely heard him as he was ushered out of the med bay.
He was halfway back to the hangar before he even thought about where he was going. He shook his head. Why was he so distracted? Then he felt a wave of guilt; it had been a long time since he thought of his father or Rodrom. He still hadn't written that eulogy.
He didn't have the luxury of time to grieve, though; he needed to get back to his fighter and start repairs. Otherwise the mechanics would start on it, and who knew what sort of damage they could cause in the short time he was away. He picked up the pace, nearly running as he hopped through the emergency bulkhead doors. Hopefully Rover had kept the mechanics away. He would try and sort out the stuff in his head when everything else settled down.
Chapter 17
The Exile
The Exile had no trouble hiding in the vast ship named Inferno . The crew stayed in the main corridors, or in the rooms they connected, never straying into the maze of subcorridors that led everywhere, where wires and ducts connected the various systems. These engineering crawlspaces were used almost exclusively by droids, and they didn't notice her.
Crawling with only one arm proved a challenge. And though it would have been far easier to draw her Shell for support, the Exile steadfastly refused to be limited by her disfigurement.
Her Shell looked more and more promising as she continued, as the ship was absolutely filled with unsecured AMI units, and it felt as though she were hiding in a concert hall full of people screaming.
Each presence, each unimportant passing thought was like a gunshot through her mind. An overbearing cacophony that caused her to become disoriented. So many people on the ship so woefully unaware of what they were doing. She tried to hold her Web tighter, but the pressure was too strong, and the crawlspace was oppressively small. The tiny space seemed to close in on her as she lost herself to the Web.
The duct she was in opened further ahead into one of the human waste rooms. A momentary release of her tightly held Web to probe inside revealed no one was beyond the vent, and she kicked out the metal between her and the room and slipped inside. Once she was through the hatch, she locked the door and concentrated on drawing in her sense of self once more. With so many errant thoughts crowding into her mind, it was difficult to know
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