We are going to break every rule in the book, and maybe they have to make up some new ones to hang us with. But you and I are going to catch it and take it down.” Her expression changed from haunted to hunter and she was back. The mind numbing terror that had gripped her sank and anger and frustration stood tall on top of it. Proper work to do. Alice began to set up the run. Just like picking up a can. “Finding it on scan, bracketed course set and laid in.” She let out a breath. “Ok flip us over Alice then brace for the burn.” Again the jets burped and the gyros ticked over. In mid flip the mains cut in. She didn’t think it could be any worse than last time but it was. Vibration came up through the deck, into her couch frame and out through her teeth. She kept thinking it would be over soon but it kept on and on. The rig had done a 180 degree rotate then a curve to zenith of the station passing within meters of the edge between two very expensive and litigious merchantmen. They were in forbidden territory now. The central zenith face of the station, being where the sensitive equipment was and where the big ships came in, was off limits to any unauthorised station based vessel. The proximity alarm blared for a second and then stopped as Fletcher manually shut it off. “That’s one rule broken stand by for a few more On scan the U.O. was still there and hundreds of meters away. “Give me time to impact” he shouted over the din. The rig wasn’t as stable as it had been. Maybe Karl’s wreckage had damaged something. “Twenty five minutes and fifty seconds.” “And fifty seconds huh?” he couldn’t help but be amused. “Not any more.” She came back. “Put your gloves on. Keep your visor up. If we decompress its easier to drop your visor than fumble for a glove. Lose a glove in these old suits and it’s not just the hand you lose.” Something came loose behind them and went crash. “What’re we gonna do?” Acceleration hadn’t stopped. The rig must have been at its limit. Things were shaking loose, locker doors were springing open. Stuff was floating all around the cabin. “We’ll be on it soon. Then we do our decel party trick. After that it’s up to me to synch rotation.” Fletcher replied. She looked at the numbers. The thing was in a corkscrew roll. How could you match that? Sure, get most of the stats down to zero and you had it, most of them but the “distance to target” take that to zero and you ended up like Karl. Alice gave an involuntary shiver. But that was a big ask in, she looked at the chrono. “Twenty minutes.” She called. The tank was getting perceptibly nearer now. Fletcher had been watching it on the external cameras. How to match that movement? Doubt un-curled in his mind. “Maybe I can match radial spin but the yaw from side to side as it goes round?” he thought. “Ok Alice, flip us over for decal and then back again then shunt me the jets control so we can get to grips with the bitch.” Routine move now, she felt like an old spacer. Even the heavy, really heavy thump of the mains decel was “done it” stuff. She watched the distance close to within three meters. They were heading with the tank towards the core of the station now, the hull plates filling the vid screens. It was inconceivable that they could be that close and not impact. It seemed she could almost see the rivets and seams, the scratches in the paint and in front of it that a huge grey cylinder as big as they were spinning end over end and wobbling side to side. Fletcher took the yoke, feet on the gyro pedals and began the movements to shift the rig. Small delicate moves, centre of mass thing. “Fifteen minutes.” Alice called as the station began to slide in and out of view and the speed of the rotating tank slowed. Little, tiny pushes one way then the other. It became really irritating like being continually jostled in a crowd. She wanted to scream “Stop it. Stop it!” but she could see it was working. How long had it been? Five minutes and the tank hung in front of them waving from side to side and on each spin she saw home. The tall wall of the hub, so close now, slid into view and out again. She saw control of the jets and gyros come back to her. “Have to shift this thing now Alice. We’re running out of time. I need you to keep the rig steady. That thing’s gonna buck like hell when we hit it.” “what!” the fear was nearly back. “Not like Karl.” He said. “Gentle, slow. Bring us in so we can trap that oscillation in the arms. Then we’ll hit the mains and push her out. Might scorch the paint work on the hub a bit.” Nine minutes left. Alice edged the rig forward and the swinging tank hit them with crash that felt like it would shake her eyes loose. Fletcher hit the mains again. She didn’t even feel it this time she was so hyped on her task. A lot of the lights on the boards were blinking red or going out all together. One vid screen died and came off its bracket waving around held by its cables. The rig bucked and tried to twist round the centre, she pulled it back. Each time the tank crashed from side to side metal screeched and groaned. They had lost all but four of the cameras now and two of those faced the rear. It was a comforting view though in the chaos. The hub receding not closing. They had done it. Pushed the tank away out into space. The loudest grinding groan of tortured metal she had ever heard brought her attention back. Right in front of her, the plastic panels on the bulkhead buckled and sank inwards. Then disappeared through a gaping hole in the hull along with the floating debris from the lockers. One of the arms had taken too much and had been ripped away. There was hiss loud enough to be heard above everything else. It was drowned by the decompression alarm. She risked a hand off the yoke, reached up and shut the visor. The sound of the alarm deadened then faded. No air to carry it. Then all the boards went dead. No alarms, no lights, no vibration. They were dead and adrift. “Well.” She said into the helmet com. “If that wasn’t enough I don’t know what is. Mr Fletcher! Mr Fletcher!” she couldn’t turn easily in that bastard suit. Fumbling with her straps, thank God for those, wary of the huge hole in front of her Alice moved around to face Fletcher. Distorted though the image was through the plexi-glass she could see he was laughing. He pulled her helmet to his till they bashed together. She heard his voice faintly. “Did it college girl.” And he lapsed into laughter again. Finally he dug a jack cable out of a seat pocket and plugged into the helmets. “You did it girl. You saved the station!” “We did it Mt Fletcher.” She corrected watching the sunlight fall through the rent in the hull. The rig was still tumbling and seeing the stars wheeling like that really did make her feel a touch dizzy, even after all she’d been through. “Nope. I just kept the power on. Had my hands full re-routing circuits to keep you operational. We lost a lot of circuits.” She floated back over and pulled into her couch totally zeed now. Really didn’t care what happened next but she had to. She’d saved the station not just for “them” but for her too. “What happens now? Sorry the rig’s a write off.” She wasn’t tracking real well. “Oh they’ll send a couple of skimmers out to pick us up. Won’t be long. Plenty of juice in the batteries. That tank is way out now. They’ll pick that up too but we got salvage on that, our paintwork all over it!” He went on about rescues and salvage for a while. She wasn’t really listening, his voice all whispery and scratchy over the headphones. Comforting. Then something he said got through. “They’ll be here any minute. Probably been all over station com. What we done. We’ll be heros! Some work experience huh?” That registered in her tired brain. “Now Stacey Philips.” She thought. “Ask that question of yours. Just you ask it!”