JAS HAD TOLD THE UNITS to wait in the equipment room as she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with them. She followed Pint-Size’s directions through the ship’s corridors, heading toward the bridge. The ship was as utilitarian as the transport had been. The metal floor was worn and scuffed with the passage of thousands of booted feet. No signs explained what was down the corridors or behind each door, possibly as a defense against boarders. Jas imagined that the soldiers had to memorize the layout of the ship.
The whine of air filters and the scent of burnt plastic and chemicals told her the ship’s force field hadn’t been an adequate defense against all the fire targeted at it. A repair bot almost hit her as it flew past on its way to fix something, and at one point she must have bee
