Excerpt 1
“We’re in position.” Scylla’s voice came over the headset. She squinted at the display as the external floodlights played over twisted metal. The ramp began to descend, letting the void in. A cold sweat broke out over Maryn’s skin at the sight of interminable space.

I’m inside, not out there, she reminded herself. She tried to train her attention on the heads-up instead, but her eyes refused to focus. “Girl, adjust the holo projector for plus three distance and magnification.”

“Setting display for granny glasses,” the ship responded.

“What did you say?” Maryn blurted.

“That’s what I call it. Girl does too, now,” Scylla said over the comm.

Her eyes finally cooperated. The blasted hull of the ship spun beneath them and she caught sight of the cylindrical life pod, projecting part way out of the tube from which it had been launched.

“I see it. Match trajectory and rotation.” She extended her arms. The hydraulic limbs reflected her movement. “There’s a piece of debris jamming the life pod into the tube. I can only see one of the retrieval cuffs on the pod. It’s twisted the wrong direction. Bring us more to port.”

“Roger. Correcting speed and rotation.” Scylla said. The stars outside spun in a dizzy arc, drawing Maryn’s gaze to them, and she blinked sweat out of her eyes. “How’s that?”

The other cuff was in view. “Good for now.” She reached for the near cuff and clamped hydraulic fingers around the handle. The other limb extended but she met unexpected resistance before she could use the claw to grab the metal rod jamming the tube. “The right arm is stuck.”

“You have to punch a little to unstick it,” Jac told her over the headset. “It’s got shoulder issues. Girl’s getting old, like us.”

“I beg your pardon,” Girl said, offended. “I’m younger than all of you. It’s not the age. It’s the shit you’ve put me through.”

Maryn carefully retracted her arm, swiveling, and extended her fist with more momentum. The joint popped and the robotic manipulator extended the rest of the way, the metal hand slamming against the lifeboat. “I probably just scared the hell out of whoever’s in there.” She wrapped the claw around the junk pinning the capsule into the tube and pulled back. The rod moved but refused to let go. “It’s not going to budge without a little force. It might just pull the wreck with us before it releases. How big of a problem is that?”

“Big,” Scylla admitted. “A huge section of the transport is drifting toward us faster than I hoped. We won’t be able to move out of the way fast enough lugging that behind us and I don’t want the Girl smashed between ‘em.”

“If we leave the life pod here, they’re going to be smashed instead of us,” Maryn snapped. “How long do we have?”

“About two minutes until we have to disengage.”

“Just like old times,” Maryn muttered. “All right. Give me a minute. Be prepared to move away as soon as it comes loose.”

She wrapped one hydraulic claw around the tow handle, the other on the obstructing debris and pulled. Both shifted in the tube and stuck again. “Come on, you bastard,” she grunted, throwing her weight against the hydraulics. The cylinder slid out another foot, not even halfway out of the launch tube.

Her thigh muscles burned with the effort as she leaned backward in the arm controls. She staggered when the cylinder suddenly slid free, and the hydraulic claw jerked the life pod forward too quickly, banging it on the ramp of the cargo bay.

“Damn it, I’m really rattling whoever is inside. I hope they’re strapped in.”

“Make it fast, Mar,” Scylla said. “That wreck’s getting too close.”

Maryn gritted her teeth and clamped the other claw on the opposite tow handle. She carefully drew the vessel into the bay and deposited it hatch side up on the deck, not as gently as she would have liked. “Got it. Go!”

Impulse engines fired, treating her to a fresh, terrifying sight of wheeling stars and drifting wreckage as the bulk of the shattered transport plowed into the remains of the smaller ship and drove it toward the Girl’s stern. “I said go, go, go!”

Excerpt 2
“Zill? You mean the rat-faced son of a bitch who bothered you at the funeral?” Jac was furious by the time Maryn was able to finish the story between hitched breaths and cold, fortifying gulps of rain globe wine. The dark curls making an escape from Jac’s neat bun trembled with indignation. “I’ll kill him for you.”

The tangy bite of alcohol soothed some of the scratchy feeling the outburst left in Maryn’s throat. Her tears had almost stopped, but the wound in her soul, no longer buried under shock and the mechanics of planning a memorial, sang with the hot-wire pain of an exposed nerve.

“It’s my own damned fault I never negotiated a tenured contract after all this time.” She rubbed her forehead against an ache that threatened to become a migraine, another reason she hated crying. “I assumed Andelek would live more than another century and I’d be long gone before it ever became an issue. I guess Globney did, too.”

“Kissing the ass of people like Malachi Zill and his family. Corporate bastards.” Scylla made a throaty noise of disgust, her muscular arms folded over her chest as she stood in the doorway. She’d changed from the suit into her customary shorts and a tank top, the colorful tattoo art collected on many worlds over her sixty-odd years bright against her arms and calves in the warm afternoon sunlight. A light breeze from the open portal ruffled her violet-tipped hair. “At least he gave you an extended leave, the condescending prick.”

Maryn snuffled into a tissue. “Sorry. The crying is getting old. I can’t seem to control it.”

“I hear you,” Scylla commiserated, her eyes on the blue slope of the mountains outside, her spacers’ accent growing thicker. “Fucking waterworks all da time. It sucks.”

“Goddamned hormones,” Jac proclaimed with heartfelt condemnation. “I cried for three hours last week over a dead bird I found in the cargo hold.” She regarded Col with an arched eyebrow. “What happens to your species as you age? I don’t see you looking any different than the last time we got together.”

“You can’t tell?” Col stroked her furry cheeks. “I have more hair on my face.”

“Don’t we all?” Maryn gave a shaky laugh. “I look like I just hit puberty. I think my moustache is glorious.”

“I have also developed lower breasts,” the Boshi said, revealing her catlike teeth in a silent snarl of disgust.

“Mine are heading south too.” Jac cupped her tits, staring at them in contemplation.

“No. Lower breasts.” Col motioned to mid-abdomen beneath her tunic when it became clear they did not follow. “My second set.”

All three humans stared at her with varying degrees of curiosity. “What are they for?” Scylla asked.

“In my society I would be expected to help nurse the litters of my children. If I had any.” Col’s furry ears flapped as she shuddered. “Mewling, damp little things. Why anyone would want them is a mystery.”