Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) by Ben Patterson Page B

mirror smooth, black cube and could see his
own reflection in it. “I thought you didn’t want to upgrade my ships with your
tech. What’s changed?”
    “I had time to think about it. You were right. I was wrong.
And you can thank Mom for convincing me of that.”
    “Price?”
    “For you? More than you can afford. For Mom . . .”
Jordon dipped his head to indicate Mara, “. . . nothing. To be
perfectly clear, I’m doing this for her.”
    “Just like that?”
    “What do you mean, just like that? Mom had some hard
arguments. I couldn’t refute them. And you should count yourself lucky she was
relentlessly on your side.”
    “Frankly, Jordon Kori, I don’t understand why you needed
convincing at all.”
    “It’s like I told you a year ago. I was afraid this would
fall into enemy hands.”
    Buchannan hmph ed. “God forbid they fall into friendly
hands.”
    Jordon sighed. “You’re right. Okay? You were right back
then, and you’re right now. Regardless, I’ll supply you enough to upgrade every
ship you have. This will give you the advantage you seek.”
    “It’s high time the rebel fleet had the upper hand. And I’m
glad to hear you’ve finally come to your senses, Mr . Kori.”
    Jordon studied his uncle for a moment. “You still don’t seem
happy about it.”
    Buck looked at the cube, tested its weight, then set it
carefully back into the transport container. Then, as he turned to him, he
glared at Jordon.
    “What do you want, a pat on the back? You want me to smile
and hug you, happy that the prodigal nephew has returned home, has finally come
to his senses?” With all the force he could put behind it, Buck slammed a blinding
fist into Jordon’s mouth.
    Unprepared for the blow, Jordon flew back and skidded across
the steel deck, and rolled to a stop. Now flat on his back, Jordon shook the
haze from his head, and quizzically looked up at Buck.
    “What the—”
    “Shield generators?” Buck said casually.
    Rubbing his jaw and dazed, Jordon climbed tenuously to his
feet, his feet got tangle under him as he tried to take a step, and he lurched
sideways and sent a stack of small boxes crashing to the floor. His mom tried
to steady him until his head cleared.
    Puzzled by her brother’s anger, Mara took hold of Buck’s
arm, and yanked him around to face her. “Do you mind telling me what that was for?”
    “If you must know, Mara,” Buck said coldly, “that was for
the 187 crewmen who died while your idiot son was taking the better part of a
year to come to his senses.” He looked at Jordon with icy eyes. “Does that make
us square?”
    Still stunned, Jordon shrugged and nodded.
    “Really? You think a punch in the mouth equals the lives of
one man, let alone 187? Well here’s a clue; it doesn’t!”
    Jordon dropped his eyes. Once done, some bad decisions could
never be undone.
    “Do you have shield generators or not?”
    Jordon sighed. Then he led Buck and David to the other side
of their shuttle to another crate. Opening it, he handed Buck another small
device. “Every ship has a Titanium shield coupling. Replace yours with these.
Each will handle the greater energy flow required to strengthen a ship’s shield
output nearly seventy-five percent. That’s just a temporary measure, but it’s a
start.”
    “Temporary?”
    “To replace the entire shield generator unit on each of your
ships, I’ll need a dry-dock. Rhone should do. But only after we carve out the
necessary time. Each generator must be integrated directly into its host ship’s
skin.”
    Buck rubbed his increasingly tender knuckles, and tried to
shake off the growing pain. His hand was beginning to swell. “Anything else?”
    “Navigation enhancements are in those crates. Weapons
components are over there.”
    “Fine.” Buck said. “Now, what do you want for all this?”
    “Everything given comes to you without strings,” Jordon
said. “I can leave Rachel with you to help with the modifications, and