Free Girl From Above #3: Trapped by Pippa DaCosta Page A

your fucking memory. Adiós , honey.”
    “You use shock tactics to divert attention from where you’re hurting. That method will not work with me, Captain.”
    We were back to Captain, so yes, it had worked. Point for the captain. “I’d like you to leave my cabin, synth. Do I have to order you?”
    She turned, and the remains of the injector crunched under her boot, giving her pause. She might have been about to add another wonderful psychobabble line, but then Starscream’s breach alarm sounded through my wrist comms.
    Her wide eyes met mine. “Tarik?”

Chapter Six: #1001
    S hepperd was back in his flight chair in under a minute. Starscream didn’t have a vast array of control screens; the ship was more functional than pretty, which meant the flashing lights on the dash were the only indicators that something was wrong. I’d downloaded the ship’s manual, but knowledge didn’t account for experience, and Caleb recognized the problem without needing to decipher the flickering warning lights.
    “An internal breach,” he muttered.
    Starscream’s inner hull was packed with sensors to warn the crew should the pressure change while the ship was in the black. Something was trying to get in.
    I gripped the back of Fran’s flight chair. “Is he inside?”
    “I won’t know without looking.”
    If Shepperd left to investigate and ran into Tarik inside the ship, the captain wouldn’t last more than a few minutes against him.
    “Do you know where the breach is?” I asked.
    “Aft, by one of the rear struts, where she’s weakest.”
    I turned and headed for the door, brushing by Doctor Lloyd. His words followed me down the catwalk. “Captain, I need to share with you the results— Where’s One going?”
    “Hey!” Caleb called.
    The commander emerged from the rec bay ahead and stepped aside, out of my way. I veered toward the rear of the ship and snatched open one of the inspection hatches. A brief change in air pressure breathed across my face and then I was inside the narrow inspection walkways. Starscream had two skins. If the outer hull were breached, the inner hull would keep the ship from breaking apart. The space between the two was narrow enough for a slim person to navigate. The dull sounds of my boots on the bracing trusses and the rustle of my clothing echoed around the ship’s belly and into the dark. Even with my enhanced vision, I had difficulties determining what was hull and what was empty space. Tarik could be anywhere inside the ship if he’d gotten through the outer hull.
    I navigated my way to where the rear strut supported Starscream’s ample rear end. The vast tungsten carbide support splayed across the ship’s underbelly like a supporting hand. The strut was sound, but light spilled in through a small hole next to where the hull structure wrapped around it. I crouched beside the hole. Fifty millimeters by sixty-three millimeters. No bigger than a pebble. The sharp edges tugged at my fingertips. It was still warm, either from the force of entry or cutting gear. The hole certainly wasn’t large enough for a man to climb through, but something had gotten inside.
    In the dark and quiet, I rocked back on my heels and listened. Starscream ’s usual rumbles and snarls continued: the sounds of her air ducts, water recycling, latent engine power. I’d become accustomed to her background din and couldn’t find anything amiss.
    When I returned to the hatch, Shepperd was waiting, pulser pistol in hand, eyebrow arched.
    “There’s a small breach.” I climbed through the hatch, left it open, and peered back into the dark. “It isn’t large enough for a man to get inside. I wasn’t able to locate anything unusual.”
    “Could it be metal fatigue?”
    “No. It’s deliberate.”
    The captain looked at me, suspicion heavy in his eyes. “So you wanna tell me what your synth friend is up to?”
    There was no evidence that Tarik had caused the breach, but he was the most likely candidate.