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"Can he reach the spaceplane from his location in three minutes?"
Xris relayed the message, received an answer in the affirmative. "But they've probably got the plane guarded," Xris added.
"Maybe one or two Marines posted outside the door to the loading dock." Rowan shrugged. "After all, they know you're not going anywhere."
"But we are, aren't we, old friend?"
"Yes, old friend," Rowan replied, with that lopsided smile. "We are. Tell your man to move out. He's got three minutes, starting now." Xris gave the order.
Rowan, breathing a sigh, sat back in her chair.
"What do we do now?" Xris asked.
"Wait."
Xris pulled a twist out of his pocket, lit it.
"Smoking's not allowed," said Rowan, amused.
"Add it to the list of charges." Xris eyed her. "I never thought I'd say this, but you don't make a bad-looking woman. Just what is it we're waiting for?"
"An enemy attack," Rowan returned gravely.
"Fortuitous timing."
"Yes, isn't it. Ah!"
The deck shook beneath Xris's feet, nearly knocking him over. He grabbed hold of the edge of Rowan's desk.
Rowan stood up. "That will be the enemy now. Coming?"
Red lights were flashing, Klaxons sounding.
Rowan negotiated her way through the maze of computer equipment, heading for the side door. Xris, lasgun in his hand, followed.
"What was that?"
"I set a plasma venting system to overload, caused an explosion on Level CC, Section 2
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