23
“We found the ship, sir.”
A female spoke on the bridge intercom.
The bluish green planet Coppice took up the entire view of the bridge, rotating slowly.
Florian straddled a chair. For the last hour he had been waiting nervously for the outcome of the search.
The female voice on the intercom was a welcome sign.
“Ship’s destroyed,” she said. “We found it. We’re going to perform a search. We’ll advise after.”
The intercom went silent.
“So far, so good,” Hux said, clapping a hand on Florian’s shoulder.
Then the intercom crackled.
The woman’s voice was muffled, with loud cracks.
Gunshots.
“Man down!” the woman cried.
CRACK!
CRACK!
Zzzzzzzzzzt!
Florian jumped at the gunshots.
“What’s going on?” Miloschenko yelled.
“Subject is still alive and is fleeing through the jungle. Sh
