It took a little over half an hour for Bob to finish taking readings and making his calculations. As he did so, little correcting thrusts intermittently popped and sputtered to direct the ship to the exact approach vector. Once he was satisfied, he leaned back away from the controls and brought his arms up to massage his head and antennae.

Seeing he was done, Specialist Clay entered the cockpit and asked, “Can I get a moment of your time, Sir?”

Bob rolled his head to the side and looked at her.

“Sure, Specialist, what’s on your mind?”

She sat in the co-pilot’s chair and offered, “I feel pretty stupid for how I behaved earlier, Sir. I just wanted you to know I really am sorry for that.”

Bob shook his head and his antennae waved slightly as he responded, “I appreciate your feelings on it, and for letting me know. For my part, I consider it over and done. Don’t dwell on it anymore.”

She sent a glance back over her shoulder at the rest of her unit playing cards in the back and said in a quiet voice, “I think I am just used to having to always keep everyone around me off balance, you know? It gets hard to turn that off when the situation changes.”

Clay returned her attention to Bob and was startled to see he had turned his head and even pivoted his upper torso in her direction, “Why do you feel you have to do that, Specialist?”

A slight flush of embarrassment flashed across her cheeks. She sent a second look back at the group in the back.

“Uh, I-“

Bob turned his head and called, “Sergeant, I need the assistance of the specialist here for a few minutes.”

“Understood, Sir,” the man responded, nodding at the Lieutenant.

Bob tapped a few areas on the polymer panel in front of him and the doors between the cockpit and the back of the ship slid closed.

He turned and gave her his full attention again, “There, speak freely Specialist.”

Her shoulders dropped a little and she let out a breath before offering, “They are good guys, but it’s only since the war that women across Earth were really fully integrated into combat units. Some of the early units I was attached to had dynamics that made it easier to keep people at arm’s reach. I guess I have been doing so ever since.”

Bob nodded slowly along with her as she spoke. When she stopped, he waited a short time to see if she would continue.

When it was clear he wouldn’t be interrupting her, he said, “I think understand as far as someone can who hasn’t lived what you have, Clay. Is there some action you want me to take after the mission for you? Would you like reassignment to a different unit? It wouldn’t be easy, but we could even see about getting you retrained into an alternative role in the fleet if that’s what you want.”

Her eyes widened and she said, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t leave my squad for anything, Sir. They are like brothers to me now and always will be. I just wanted to say again that I’m sorry, and maybe offer some sort of explanation as to why I was such a jerk to you earlier.”

Bob didn’t waver in his attention to her and replied, “Well, if you are happy where you are, then I am content, Specialist. As I said, think nothing of earlier. You got me good, and I responded in kind. No harm done.”

She nodded once and then looked down at her hands. She was wringing them together a little. Bob noticed her eyes started glistening a little, and had reddened slightly. He stayed quiet, waiting for her.

Her voice cracking somewhat, she said, “I think about it sometimes, you know? What would it have been like if I hadn’t joined up when I did? Would I have a couple kids of my own and a guy I was madly in love with? When I was really little, I dreamed of a house somewhere in the country with at least twenty dogs. I had it all planned out.”

She sniffed, and shrugged, “When I got to be a teenager, I got the idea in my head that those were silly dreams, and if I wanted to be happy I needed to be powerful and dynamic. It was great timing, because I had just put in my application and gotten my parent’s consent to join up at sixteen when the Krador attacked Oom Three. Everything since then has been the military life, you know?”

She wiped at her eyes with the palm of her hand and continued, “Eventually, I convinced myself that I hated the idea of being that domestic, and it was for weak people. I was so sure I never wanted that up until a few months ago. That’s when my brother, Peter, had his first baby. He sent pictures over the QEC to me and I got kinda’ rattled. His boy’s perfect little face made me wonder if I would ever get the chance to have one of my own. For the first time I can remember since I was sixteen, I felt like I may really be missing something important. I mean, what if the course I was so sure of as a teenager wasn’t the right one, you know? Looking back, I was an idiot back then.”

Bob nodded and reached out his lower arms and took her hands in his.

She lifted her face to meet his, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant, your question about having kids earlier just brought all this up to the surface. It’s stupid that with a dangerous mission ahead of us I would get distracted by crap like this. I’ll square it away.”

She sniffed, let go of Bob’s hands and wiped her eyes again. Donning the mask of the professional soldier again, in mere moments the face of the vulnerable and insecure human was again hidden.

Bob was still staring at her in silence when she asked, “Is your armor good to go, Sir, or do you want me to take another look at it for you?”

Bob remained silent, and she soon began to get nervous, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Bob bowed his head and looked down and said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea my questions would cause you so much pain. I hope you can forgive me for carelessly bringing up something so personal and painful for you.”

She smiled and said, “It’s nothing, Sir,” with a wave of her arm.

“That’s not true,” he retorted, “It is something, and an important something.”

The tough soldier’s facade cracked slightly as the corners of her mouth twitched down ever so briefly.

Bob continued, “As far as the choices you have made, you are young still. Humans live a long time. There is plenty of time to change directions if that’s what you ultimately decide to do. Don’t let the momentum of past decisions force you into a future you wouldn’t now choose for yourself. If you want it, you can still look for love and get that house in the country with twenty dogs. For the time being, let’s get focused back on the mission in front of us. We will talk about the future tomorrow.”

“We will?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow up.

Bob nodded his head, “I think if not me, you should find someone to talk to about what you are feeling. If you like, my door is open.”

She smiled slightly and said, “I would like that, yeah.”

Several hours later, the shuttle was on its final approach to the planet. As intended, they were vectoring into orbit on the opposite side of the planet from where the station was currently.

In the moments before final maneuvers, Bob called back, “Everyone better sit down and strap in tight. This one will be as rough as they come.”

The team did so, and the moment the station passed behind the horizon, Bob turned the ship away from their current vector of travel and initiated a full burn. Normally this violent of an acceleration force would not be experienced in space, but Bob had initiated the orbital launch thrusters.

The craft rumbled and shook, and the straps holding everyone in their hairs stretched and strained under the forces involved. Bob’s eyes never left the display panels in front of him, and when his flight plan indicated, he turned the ship’s nose toward the planet, gave a short burst, then reset the ship to point in the direction of their travel. As he did, the bright light of the local star spilled in and caused them all to squint for a moment before the Sister dimmed the window.

When that set of maneuvers over, a momentary calm settled in and Bob said, “Okay, we are going to make contact the atmosphere to slow down in a few seconds. It’s going to get loud and bumpy. Switch to suit coms.”

No sooner had the last of them secured their helmet visors down than the ship lurched violently and plumes of hot plasma could be seen in flowing streams dancing across the main cockpit window. The atmospheric drag caused the whole shuttle to begin shaking violently.

Bob, was growing concerned with what he saw from the readouts.

“We aren’t slowing down enough,” he said, “I am going to initiate some S-turns to bleed off more of this speed.”

Barely audible over the din permeating the space, the thrusters could almost be felt more than heard as they added new dimensions of strain on the bodies of the occupants as the ship slowly turned make the first of the turns.

The Sergeant spoke up, his voice strained from the forces he was enduring, “Sir, should we consider getting out of this atmo and just slowing down in orbit?”

Bob was quick to reply, “That’s no good Sergeant. If we use our thrusters that much we will be lit up like a flare just as much as if we did it before we reached the planet. They would see us on their scanners the moment we come back around into line of sight. Using the atmosphere is the only option we have to slow down fast enough.”

A handful of seconds passed after this exchange, and a panel on the console blared to life with an alarm and flashing indicators.

“Sir, the hull temperature is reaching red line, and the cockpit windows are now passing tolerances,” the Sister reported.

Bob looked up from the displays in front of him. The crystal panels around him were beginning to glow faintly red and the outer layers were forming wavy lines where they were starting to melt.

“Understood, this will be over in two more turns, one way or another,” he replied.

“There’s more than one way?” the Sister asked.

“Yeah, we either melt and burn up, don’t slow down enough and get spotted and shot at, or we bleed off enough speed to continue the mission. I am pretty sure we will make it.”

“Pretty sure? That doesn’t inspire confidence, Lieutenant,” the Sister replied.

A few tense seconds passed before Bob said, “That’s enough, we’re good.”

Turning the nose up and away from the planet gently, he engaged the thrust needed to break out to a stable orbit. He checked his readings and after a few small adjustments they were back on an intercept course with the station.

Compared to the overwhelming sound and vibrations they had been subjected to moments before, getting back up out of the atmosphere and into orbit seemed serene by comparison. The stars and planet seemed slightly wavy and surreal through the now distorted cockpit glass.

“Lieutenant, the station is on our sensors now. It just entered line of sight.

Bob tapped the smooth surface in front of him a few times and the image of the station displayed on a small portion of the console.

“Have you seen any indication we were spotted?” he asked her.

“None, Sir. It looks like everything is going roughly according to plan so far,” she replied.

Bobo turned his head toward the back and said, “Sergeant, six minutes to contact with the station.”

“Affirmative, Sir,” the voice of the veteran soldier responded.

The troops in the back readied themselves for their mission, and Bob kept a wary eye on the readouts for any indication of their detection. None, came, and soon the station filled the front viewport.

“Sister, what is your analysis? Do those structures on the left look like docking bays to you too?”

She answered, “They do, Sir. I am detecting three structures that are consistent with docking bays. Only one of them is giving off a navigational beacon for docking. The others appear to be either inoperative our out of service for some reason.”

Bob thought about that a moment then called back, “Sergeant, come forward please.”

The man did as instructed, and Bob asked, “What would you say to ingress using an out of service docking bay?”

“That sounds perfect to me, Sir. We may even find a connection there to upload the package. We could be in and out without even going inside the station proper.”

Bob nodded, and said, “We’ll try that then.”

They maneuvered the ship up to one off the two bays and Bob saw that its doors were closed. Moving the ship closer, he could barely make out the telltale scorch marks of it having been welded shut in the past.

“This one’s no good,” he observed, “Let’s move on to the other one.”

The ship crept around the station and as they maneuvered in front of the third bay, Bob’s antennae took on a satisfied set. In the middle of the passage where they would have met, the doors left a large, slightly triangular opening. One of them looked like it was off the track that it slid on.

“Lieutenant,” the Sister offered, “The dimensions of that opening are insufficient to allow this craft passage.”

Bob considered the scene before him and said, “I would prefer to have the ship hidden inside the bay in case they have patrols in the area. The planning teams were hoping to have some sort of structural components the shuttle could break line of sight behind if a patrol or something arrived. I don’t think anyone dreamed there may be an opportunity like this. We have to take advantage of it if possible.”

Being careful with the controls, Bob moved the ship up to where the gap between the doors was located.

“Sergeant, do you think some of your people may be up for a little space walk to open that a little wider for us?”

“Absolutely, Sir.”

With that, the man turned and spurred his team into action. Bob put on his helmet and closed the visor.

Switching to suit coms, he said, “Secure for venting atmo.”

The team members each responded in the affirmative in turn. Bob keyed the controls and then the hiss of air leaving the areas of the ship started. It quickly became inaudible as the medium for sound transmission was removed.

Bob opened the aft bay door and announced, “Sergeant, you may proceed.”

The normally white armor common to Apex soldiers had been blacked over with mat finish given the nature of the mission. From outside the ship, it looked like a group of congealed shadows spilled out of the shuttle and attached themselves to the side of the station. They moved across the hull to the place where the derailed door rested and began working.

A few tense minutes passed as the team tried various methods to expand the opening. Eventually, the Sergeant called in to the Lieutenant.

“Sir, we have cleared the obstructions preventing the door from opening, but we can’t get any leverage to push or pull it apart any farther.”

Bob replied, “Understood, Sergeant. I have an idea. Get your people clear of the doors.”

“Yes, Sir.”

When they were far enough away, Bob moved the ship up and gently made contact with the loose door. He keyed up the thrust gradually to move it out of the way. He increased the thrust until there was a lurch, and the door began moving. He hoped it wasn’t making so much noise as to alert any Jergoon inside the station. When there was little more than a few inches of clearance, Bob backed away from the door and then, aligning it, carefully proceeded into the docking bay.

The space inside was a complete mess. Wall panels hung loosely from the walls, random scraps of metal drifted aimlessly in the microgravity, and old, scavenged over loading equipment was strewn around the area.

Specialist Clay spoke over the com, “It looks like they have been cannibalizing the equipment in here. Even the conduit behind the wall panels looks like it has been torn out in some places. That database wasn’t kidding when it indicated the station was in poor repair.”

The Sergeant’s voice came over the channel next, “Okay, spread out and try to find a place to uplink with the station. Let’s see if we can accomplish the mission without getting in any farther than this.”

On his instruction, the team spread out and began checking anything they could find that looked like it might be able to interface with the station systems. After a few minutes, they all reported negative results.

“Well,” Bob said, “It was worth a try. Back to the original plan.”

Bob set the ship down with its nose pointing at the gap in the bay doors they had entered through.

Once the ship was powered down, he opened the panel in the console and retrieved the Sister’s crystal matrix. He went into the cargo area of the shuttle and pulled out an armored container and gently placed her inside. When that was done, he reached back and attached it to his back. Small, prehensile wires extended out of some holes in the sister’s armored case and connected to the input ports of his armor.

“Okay, are you linked with my suit now?” he asked.

“Affirmative.”

He turned and walked out the back of the little ship and began surveying the room. As he was doing so, a huge, bright shape flashed on the wall in front of him for a moment then was gone.

Weapons were drawn, and the soldiers all found cover. Weapons silently traced their arcs of fire around the room looking for what caused the disturbance. The group was on high alert.

All except Bob.

Bob walked slowly out from behind the shuttle, and looked out into space beyond the opening in the doors. There, closing with the station, was a Jergoon warship easily as large as Redeemer. Three more flashes of light revealed a freighter and two smaller ships in an escort formation.

“Well,” Bob said with a sigh, “This complicates things  .”