Brave New Glass
I skidded to a stop on the upper deck, out of breath and out of time.
‘Corporal!’ the captain called out, her baritone ringing out even above the shrill of the klaxon. ‘I need a report!’
‘Major damage, sir,’ I obliged, clinging to the handrail of the staircase as the ship was rocked by another burst of fire. ‘Multiple decks reporting.’
‘Structural?’ she asked me, eyes flicking from me to an engineering screen.
‘Nothing yet,’ I reported, as a huge explosion rocked us in space, throwing me and a handful of other standing officers halfway across the bridge.
Gasping, the wind truly knocked from my ribs, I forced a hand under myself, feeling the sharp sting of broken glass burrowing under the skin of my palm. A pair of strong hands grasped under my armpit, dragging me to my feet. I looked up and saw the captain, her face bloody and battered, teeth locked in a determined snarl.
‘Don’t worry, Corporal,’ she growled. ‘It wasn’t the main window that broke – although do you know of any nearby businesses offering glass replacement?’
I laughed, wincing at the pain of it.
‘Not in this system, sir,’ I wheezed.
‘Pity,’ she shook her head. Her eyes snapped up, locking onto her commanding officers as she barked orders to evade and return fire.
‘Captain!’ her second in command called back, ‘we need to evacuate!’
‘Not on my watch, Commander Payne!’ she hurled back. ‘We just got those lovely new glass balustrades from Melbourne installed – I’ll be damned if we lose them, or anybody else on this ship!’
‘We’re outmatched!’
‘We haven’t even started,’ she snarled.
She turned, surveying the damage of the bridge, the dozen crewmembers lying unconscious on the glass-dusted carpet. Her gaze flicked down to me, cradling my aching ribs, blood from my hands staining my uniform.
In that moment, I saw the fire bloom inside of her, watched it twist and claw and crackle its way to the surface as she shot to her feet.
‘Gentlemen,’ she whispered, white-hot with rage. ‘To your stations.’