Dreadnought (Starship Blackbeard book 3)
“The bridge on the foredeck was a blue light that looked like a single, unblinking eye. From this angle, Dreadnought looked more like a monster, some creature of the deep, than a battleship. And Rutherford was hurtling toward its mouth. There were eight molded seats in the pod, but the only other occupant was Catherine Caites, who sat to one side, hands on the straps of her restraints, staring at the blinking instrument panel opposite, her jaw clenched. For a woman who had raced through the void in a little tin can of a torpedo boat, she’d seemed surprisingly anxious about climbing into the pod, and her anxiety had not abated since Vigilant launched her at Dreadnought. She turned and seemed to notice Rutherford studying her. “It’s not claustrophobia, sir.” “No?” “No, sir. There’s no engine on this thing—that’s what scares me. I don’t like being fired off like we were a cannonball.” “We have been launched on a preprogrammed trajectory. Dreadnought already has the net out for us.”
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