“No thank you.”

He can hardly recognize his voice. It sounds thin. Tinny. Details swallowed up by the ringing in his ears. There’s no time for it to recover. The volleys are coming too fast.

“I am not going to leave you alone with [i]him.”[/i] 

The smoke is growing thicker. Soon, blinking won’t clear the stinging from his eyes. They cannot stay here. The ornate trim of the shuttle bay provides plentiful cover but they will have to dart through the open to do it. Through the smoke. It’s the only way to avoid a direct hit, for now. 

And then what?

The elderly Summerkind are slow. They aren't mobile enough to flank them. They could still advance down the hangar. What can he do if they are beaten to the shuttles? They’ll be hemmed in, just the three of them. The smoke is growing thicker. Soon, he won’t have any voice at all.

They can’t stay here. 

“Get,” he feels the first cough more than he hears it. “Keep moving. Cover to cover. Outcropping ahead, ten meters that way. You may have. Have to carry me.”

But he’ll run as far as he can.