The blonde pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. She gulped and panted before she took a deep breathe. Her eyes surveyed Corrie who, though she did not wear her rank, was sporting the swaggering costume of an off duty fighter jock. “Permission to continue to the escape pod.”
“Shut it, soldier. No whining. Are all fighters scrambled? Marlin Squadron?”
“No sir, most of Marlin Squadron is gone. All auto sequencing is online.”
“Very good, dismissed.”
The girl turned and ran for her life.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish