Hannah groaned as the Captain's barked order came over the comm, coughing up a lung as she pulled herself to her feet with the railing. Make that foot—she limped to the console and propped her hip against it, fingers flying to input the override that would allow the cargo bay to open even with the alarms blaring.

Captain Lee made it to the release, the hatch opened, and some of the haze lessened. The coughing didn't let up, but Hannah slumped against the railing in relief anyway. She let her knees buckle and she sat on the floor, legs swinging in the open air over the cargo bay and her arms folded on top of the bottom rail.

"Captain," she said hoarsely, "Honest to Betsy that wasn't me this time."

She was just about to try some weak joke to try and brighten the Captain's black mood when the stragglers from outside caught her attention. Her eyebrows rose, and she pulled herself to her feet again, painfully making her way down into the hold. She gave halfhearted waves to the newcomers, but figured that if anyone was going to let them on board, it should be the Captain—and she had crates of grenades to shove in a refrigerator. And a busted ankle to deal with. Christ.