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Chapter 19

When the explosion went off, Giovanni froze in place, his eyes widening with shock and fear. Logan knew because he immediately turned back to the crew to see how they fared.

Like instinct, Giovanni brought his hands up to cover his ears, but it was too late—the deafening sound of the blast had already made their eardrums ring. He sat there, rooted to the spot, trying to process what had just happened. Logan caught his eyes and threw him a question. He didn’t say a word but somehow they both understood that he was asking if he was okay.

Giovanni nodded.

“It’s over,” Logan whispered to himself.

It was over. The worst was over. His heart was beating faster than an African gong, thudding as if he just finished sprinting across a yard. His chest heaved up and down the first few minutes, and Logan struggled to gather himself. They were all rattled.

Logan could breathe soundly now.

“It’s over,” he whispered again, more to himself than as a cogent motivation to the passengers.

That was when Logan realized they weren’t all strapped to their seats. Oyediran was trembling in pain on the floor, having been tossed around during the attack.

He wondered why she left her seat in the first place. She curled up into a ball now, her eyes squeezed shut tightly, as if she were trying to make herself disappear. Logan heard her whimpering softly, and saw how much her hands trembled. Blessing was a brilliant woman but she was no soldier.

Donald, on other hand, let out a blood-curdling scream. It was like his brain just started booting. He sat frozen in his seat since the explosion but for some reason, the urge to shout itched his throat now. He panted like a dog.

“It’s over!′ Logan yelled aloud to them. They all seemed to collectively breathe a sigh of relief.

But the commander could not have been more wrong. That explosion was not the end. Logan hoped that it would be but the dash cam showed a bunch of space missiles approaching.

He spoke too soon. It had only just begun.

GIO located about five, which were less than forty minutes away, in the next five minutes. Everybody seemed to sense a shift in their atmosphere. More attacks were to come.

The GSCOM began flashing its red light then, indicating that Earth GSA was trying to contact them. Logan had no time to spare right now.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Except whatever Langston had to tell them was a grenade in itself and could launch at the incoming missiles with great precision and zero repercussions on their end, it would have to wait.

The CM Pilot did not give him much of a choice however, because he hit the answer button immediately. The sound of static mixed with a crackling noise filled the air.

Logan glared at the back of his head darkly. He should have asked for permission first.

“Commander, we are currently detecting other spacecrafts around your environment. What is going on?”

“We’re being attacked,” he replied dryly.

Langston went on to state the obvious. “Prepare the TCs immediately. An EVA would be–”

Logan rolled his eyes. “As much as I love the sound of you telling me how to do my job, I don’t have time for this. I have a crew to keep alive, sir. And I’d prefer to do that without you yapping in my ears.”

“Excuse m—” That was enough. He ended the call.

Unlatched now, Logan found his way back to the Assail Chamber and grabbed three cases. He carried them over to the men sitting next to Borja. That was the defense team of the Inter-Galactic GG-20. They knew what to do.

In GSA terms, the cases held what were called Tactical Cannons. It was not designed to be wielded by humans. That would be logically impossible; it was specially built to be manned by a spacecraft during a space war.

Tactical Cannons were a deload-and-reload machine. One had to attach its parts to the appropriate knobs/holes on the nose of the spacecraft.

They could easily be assembled from within the vehicle but these particular TCs required an immediate EVA. Seeing as they were minutes away from being shot down into limbo, it had better be a tethered one.

“Elrod, you’re the only one I want out there. We need an EVA for the TC mounting stat.”

Elrod gulped in panic. “Me? Wouldn’t it be more efficient to send three people?”

Efficient? Sure. It was also risky. But rationality begged to keep as many people in the shuttle as possible.

Logan headed to the airlock. “Do as you’re told, Officer. Follow me.”

When astronauts embarked on spacewalks, they wore space suits to keep themselves safe. Inside the spacesuits, astronauts have the oxygen they need to breathe; the suits were pressurized. They had the water they need to drink.

Breathing only oxygen got rid of all the nitrogen in an astronaut’s body. If they didn’t get rid of the nitrogen, the astronauts might get gas bubbles in their body when they walked in space. These gas bubbles could cause pain in their shoulders, elbows, wrists, and knees – “the bends” – because it affected the places where the body bends.

There was no way any of Elrod could possibly get the bends out there. The three Defense Officers always had their suits on. It was part of their job.

Exiting the spacecraft was through a special door called an airlock. The airlock had two doors. When all passengers were aboard, the airlock was airtight. Performing EVAs, however, required one to keep that tightness. Elrod and Logan went through the first door without getting any air out of the spacecraft.

The Commander attached a safety tether to the man so he’d stay close. The other end of the rope was hooked to the vehicle, his tools, and the weapon cases. A SAFER was strapped to him like a backpack. It was worn like a backpack.

SAFER stood for Simplified Aid for EVA Rescue. It utilized small jet thrusters to let an astronaut move around in space. If the officer were to become untethered and float away, SAFER would help him fly back to the spacecraft. SAFER could be controlled with a small joystick, like on a video game.

Logan returned to the shuttle to prepare the rest of his crew for the coming altercation. “Is everything latched? We’re going to get hit anytime now!”