Ren Stryker
“Korlu Fenchile, I have an emergency.”
It didn’t take anything more than that to wake a man from a sound sleep.
“What kind of emergency, Ren?”
“Marsi Pinster attempted to upload unauthorized code into critical systems.”
Korlu took a deep breath.
“What’s Marsi’s location?” he asked, adding, grimly, “and her condition?”
“She is on the floor in aisle eight-eight of the utilities core. Her systems are intact.”
“Conscious?”
“No,” Ren said, hesitant, and then, plaintively, “I was gentle, Korlu. But the current may have burned her.”
“Price o’stupid,” Korlu said, swinging his legs over the side of his bunk and reaching for his pants. “I’m on my way. Keel and Pawli are security this shift. Call and ask ’em to meet me at the access door.”
“Yes,” Ren said.
“Thanks. We’ll just get her out, and take it from there.”
He paused in the act of sealing his shirt.
“Hey, Ren?”
“Yes?”
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt her, right? But you gotta protect yourself, that’s just basic.”
“Yes,” Ren said again, still not sounding particularly happy.
Well, thought Korlu, stamping into his boots, that made two of them.