"Good news, Will. It went straight through."
"Watch ... out. The captain'll have the marines on you in a minute."
"Most of them won't be armed. All they'll have are whatever guns are scattered in the ship."
"Stern. He'll send men down the hatches." Post was pale with pain, but still thinking clearly enough. His bravery gave Valentine heart.
"We've blocked everything off," Ahn-Kha said from the doorway. "The Chief is welding the access hatches shut."
A Grog hooted and fired toward the T-intersection forward. The shotgun blast sounded like a grenade explosion in the confined area of the metal passageway.
They heard a clatter around the shadowed corner of the T-intersection facing the barricade. Ahn-Kha knelt behind the mattress-shielded door, the pump-action in his hands looking like a child's toy.
"Mr. Rowan?" a voice called down the hall. "It's Partridge. I've got Went and Torres with me. What's happening, sir?"
Valentine exchanged a look with Ahn-Kha, and mouthed the word marines. "I don't have time for the whole story, Party. But everything the captain said over the intercom is true. Post is with me. We are trying to take the ship."
"What're you talking to him for?" a voice said from around the right-hand corner of the intersection.
"Shut up, See-Pee. It's our officer," Valentine heard Torres growl.
"You planning on going into the Blue, sir?" Partridge continued, ignoring the byplay.
"Something like that. It's a life away from the Reapers to any man who comes with me."
"You move, and I'll shoot you down," the unknown voice from the right side of the T-intersection threatened.
"Hey, what're-," Partridge began, but the sound of shots cut him off. Valentine heard four shots in rapid succession, and the three marines appeared in the corridor, Torres and Went holding the wounded Partridge between them.
They squinted in the glare of the spotlight, holding up their free hands. Torres had a revolver in his, and Went a rifle.
"Bastards! You killed Delano!" someone yelled from around the corner as the marines approached the barricade.
Ahn-Kha plucked the wounded man over and bore him into the arms locker, and put him down next to Post. Valentine helped the other two. Torres followed Partridge, who had blood already soaking through the right side of his uniform.
"We're with you, Mr. Rowan," Went, one of Valentine's deadeyes, said once they were safely behind the mattresses again. "When we heard the announcement, Party, he said, 'Who'd you rather take orders from, Saunders or Mr. Rowan?' I grabbed my match rifle, and Torres got Corporal Grant's pistol, and came to see what was happening. That bastard Delano fired first, sir, and we shot back. Everything's dark and confused. I heard firing forward. I think everyone's shooting at each other."
"I'm glad you're here, Went. I want to be straight with you. This is not going as I planned. It's us, the Grogs, and the Chief and a few of his men. We're outnumbered about eight to one."
The corners of Went's mouth twitched back into something that, if not a smile, was at least a wry grimace. "Leastways the guns are here." He peered over the edge of the barricade. "They won't take me alive. I'm not going to get delivered in handcuffs to some Hood."
The hatch to the generator room at the bottom level of the ship opened, and the Chief's face looked up at the assembled Grogs and men. "Tight as a drum, they're going to have to blow a big hole in the ship to get at us from down here. Captain's going to have an interesting time commanding the ship without engines."
"Good work, Chief," Valentine said.
Valentine heard a commotion down the hall and sought out the location with hard ears. The captain was speaking to someone, demanding a report. Saunders did not care for the answers, he began to yell. "That's all? And you let men join them?"
"They shot Delano, sir, and he had the only gun right then."
"You've got a wrench in your hands-you should have bashed some skulls in with it. Out of my sight!"
After a moment, Valentine heard Saunders's voice raised again, this time projecting from somewhere along the starboard-side corridor.
"The attempt on the ship has failed, Rowan. You know it, and I'm sure it's starting to dawn on those deluded enough to follow you."
"We're ready to wreck the engines, Captain, if we come to believe that," Valentine called back.
"You're a dead man, Rowan, and so's your pet drunk. But I'm offering an amnesty to whoever turns you in. I'll hush all this up. Like it never happened, long as they frog-march you and Post out."