Before Focht could answer, the Damage Control Team arrived. Phelan thrust the radio into the Precentor Martial's hands. "See if you can raise Ranna on this thing. Tell her we need to know who's in charge, and if she can't come up with a good answer, tell her she's it." He hesitated. "That is, unless you want the job."

Focht smiled warily. "I think, Phelan Kell, you have assumed that position already."

The mercenary laughed harshly. "Fine. Then consider this delegation of authority. See what can be done."

Phelan turned and crossed to where a Clan Tech had hitched up a piece of diagnostic equipment to the sonic lock beside the bridge's closed doors. "Freebirth!"

"What's the problem?"

"The bridge has been sealed and we have minimal atmosphere," the Tech replied distractedly, "and I have not a clue how long the hull seal will hold. There was a savashrishort in the electrical systems. The door has given itself a new combination code and I do not know what it is. It was just chosen at random, and if things are still alive in there, it could change again at a moment's notice."

The Kell Hound nodded. "How many digits?"

The Clansman frowned in irritation. "What difference does it make?"

Phelan grabbed the man by his collar and hoisted him off the ground. "Give me an answer, idiot! People may still be alive in there."

"N-nine."

Phelan dropped him and pulled the electronic lockpick from his pocket. He tossed it to the Tech. "Set the switches to nine and hold it against the lockplate." He then turned to one of the other Damage Control Team members. "Give me one of those EVA suits. I go in first. The ilKhan and Khan Ulric were on the bridge. Find them and get them out and to medical facilities immediately, then we pull out any other people we can find."

The Clansmen nodded and prepared their equipment as Phelan pulled on the jumpsuit and sealed the ankles and wrists. They're so conditioned to take orders that they defer to me because I'm willing to take command. I know I'll pay for this when the crisis is over, though they might accept the excuse of my being a bondsman anxious about my master.He fitted the bubble helmet over his head and fastened it at the neck. Someone helped him with his boots and gloves, then the Tech at the lock yelped in amazement.

The doors to the bridge slid open. From amid a cloud of gray smoke, two badly burned people stumbled out. Before they'd even cleared the doorway, Medtechs hit them with painkillers and then guided them down the hallway. Phelan grabbed two tanks of oxygen and dropped into a crouch. As soon as the injured were out of his way, he went in below the level of the rapidly dissipating smoke.

Whatever hit us was big or moving fast—or both!With few exceptions, the work stations had ripped free of the deck and tumbled back toward the interior bulkhead. Buried beneath piles of technological debris, Phelan saw arms and legs, but the rivulets of blood leaking from those mounds told him there was no help for the people beneath them.

Others lay strewn across the torn-up deck, some of them moving feebly, but Phelan continued past them in his search.

He was in the holotank when I last saw him.As Phelan moved toward the collapsed walls of the display unit, the smoke thinned enough to let him see the hole in the hull. Above and slightly to the right of the main viewscreen, it looked about the size of a 'Mech's balled fist. Jagged daggers of metal pointed inward from the hole, but it was by no means enough to have resealed the hole. This place must have been sprayed with shrapnel upon impact. What the hell could it have been?

Pipes running through the hull pumped gouts of a tarry substance over the breach, covering the hole with a glistening black curtain. Some of the dark fluid dribbled down the interior hull, staining the walls black, but most of it clung to the already present layer and increased its thickness. Phelan could see the layer pulled taut where vacuum from outside sucked at it, and he pushed down a momentary flash of panic. He realized that if it were to give, the vacuum would suck him and the others out into space. He looked around the bridge and shook his head. Obviously, anyone not pinned down by debris had flown out through the breach before the sealant had a chance to work. Though the odds were dismal, Phelan knew he would find Ulric.

The repair Tech's voice called anxiously over the radio. "Move it, people. That patch is really stressed. I do not know how much longer the stravagthing will hold."

Phelan shot a brief glance back over his shoulder toward the doorway. "Let us know when you have some good news."

The Tech shook his head. "That is the goodnews, bondsman."

Reaching the remains of the holotank, Phelan discovered a hollow beneath the lowest of the curved panels. Maybe, just maybe... He dropped to his knees and crawled in. Using the flashlight mounted on his right forearm, he dispelled the darkness and found himself staring at the Khan.

Stravag! Gotta get him air.Phelan fitted the mask from one of his oxygen tanks over Ulric's ashen face and started the flow of oxygen. As carefully as possible, he shined the light around to see if the Khan had sustained other injuries besides a cut on the cheek. No compound fractures and nothing trapping him. Let's see if I can move him.

The mercenary grabbed the Khan of the Wolf Clan by the armpits and started to pull. As the Khan's body began to move, Phelan felt some life coming back into the man's limbs. Ulric opened his eyes, and blinked at the glare of the flashlight.

Ulric brought his hands up and grabbed Phelan's arms just above the elbows. Using the mercenary as a brace, the Khan pulled his body free of the holotank. He did his best to stand up, but his knees buckled almost immediately so that Phelan had to catch him before he could fall.

The mercenary gestured to two of the white-suited medics. "This is the Khan. Get him out of here."

Suddenly the radio speakers mounted in his helmet squawked to life. "Everyone, get out of the bridge. The seal is at 110 percent of its maximum stress factor and we have reports that enemy activity is beginning to concentrate in this area. Move! I do not know how long I can hold it."

Phelan started toward the doorway, but saw a pair of legs move weakly. He detoured over to see if he could help, then came up short. Just my luck, isn't it?

Wedged partway beneath a curved magnesium girder, Vlad lay on his back with arms and legs splayed out crazily. None of his limbs appeared to be broken, but something had laid his face open on a line from above his left eyebrow down to his jaw. Blood covered that side of his face, but Phelan knew he was alive.

"You, bondsman, move it. We are at 127 percent of max stress. The steal will go any second now."

The mercenary waved off the warning. Kneeling down, he tried to pull Vlad toward the center of the girder's curve, but something had snagged and held the Clansman fast. It would be ironic if whatever kept you from flying out earlier would prevent me from saving you now.He reached up under the steel beam, unhooked the Mech Warrior from where his belt buckle had been wedged and slid him free.

Grabbing Vlad by the belt buckle Tyra had crafted, Phelan dragged him out from under the metal that had pinned him. Hoisting the Clansman over his left shoulder, the Kell Hound ran toward the doorway 'as the Tech waved him on.

Vaulting piles of debris, he dashed closer to the exit, but five meters from sanctuary, he slipped in a pool of blood and went down.