Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) by B. V. Larson

position—the departure point we were ordered to utilize may have shifted by then.”
    Baring my teeth, I slammed a fist on the console.
    “Dammit! Who’s working so hard to stop this mission?”
    No one answered my question.
    “Morris!” I shouted. “Can you hear me? What’s your status?”
    Nothing came back for several seconds.
    “We’ve only got six minutes left before we’re committed, sir,” Yamada said.
    I waved her off, trying to get a scratchy message from Morris.
    “There’s some kind of interference in here,” he said. “We’re alive, but they sure scared the—”
    The system spat static for several seconds.
    “Morris?” I called. “Lieutenant?”
    “—no way they should have been able to do this without someone noticing. It’s amazing how far—.”
    The signal faded away.
    “Morris,” I said, “I’m not getting everything you’re saying. Are you in danger?”
    “Danger? No sir, the danger has left the ship, I’d say.”
    Yamada waved for my attention. “Captain, if we’re going to abort, we have to do it now. The departure point is directly ahead. We have to—”
    I wheeled to Rumbold. “Helm, steer us fractionally off-center. I want to be in a position to either hit the edge of the departure point—or veer more and miss it entirely. Buy me some time to decide.”
    Rumbold looked scared. Maybe he was regretting whatever manipulations he’d performed to get himself back into the pilot’s chair for this historic occasion. His eyes boggled and he lifted his hands toward the controls hesitantly.
    “That’s a tall order, Captain… but I’ll try.”
    “Just do it. Morris, get out of that hold. Report when you’re in the clear. You have seconds—”
    I saw something then, something coming from the screens. Muzzle flashes began. Silent firing of heavy, chest-mounted guns. My marines were in action.
    “Get out of there, Morris. Pull back to the hatch. And tell me what you’re shooting at!”
    “—can’t get—”
    More buzzing. I got up from my chair. Zye stood with me. I swung my eyes toward the timer. Five minutes? There was no time to armor-up myself.
    “Deploy the reserves to support Morris,” I commanded the rest of the security team.
    “Are we going down there, sir?” Zye asked.
    I could tell from her demeanor that she was spoiling for a fight. On screen, more flashes flared brilliantly in the dark hold. Silent yellow fire spit across the screen—but what the hell could they be shooting at?
    Sitting back down with a force of will, I gestured for Zye to join me. She did so reluctantly.
    “I’ve sent in reserve troops. We have to let them do their jobs. Morris, can you hear me?”
    “Yes sir,” he answered at last. I could hear him panting. I also heard heavy equipment moving.
    Activating his helmet camera again, I frowned at the scene. He was dragging a corpse. The body-shell armor was still intact, but the head was missing. It was the woman he’d sent in first.
    “They ambushed us,” Morris said in between gulps of air. “Both sides. Someone must have set them up for—I don’t get it, sir.”
    “ Who ambushed you?” I demanded as calmly as I could.
    “Not who, what. They were repair robots. Three of them. They came in with welding torches and pinchers. We shot them—but they’re pretty tough bastards. They’d been reprogrammed to kill anyone who came into the hold.”
    I spun toward Zye. “Who’s authorized to do that? To reprogram those robots?”
    “We can’t alter their base programming,” she said. “Only the Stroj can do that.”
    Suddenly, I understood the situation. It was as if an explosion had gone off in my brain.
    “Yamada locate the three engineering personnel that requested transfers off this vessel. Where are they right now?”
    “You mean O’Donnell’s team? Checking… They’re all three in the aft hold, sir.”
    I moved to her station and stared at the data. “Morris? Is it possible anyone else is alive down