Miguel was pissed enough he considered leaving the two braniacs and cutting out. He didn't want to be sitting in the engineering section of a wrecked chunk of fallen spaceship babysitting a couple of kids while some crazy alien haunted the halls. What the hell were they thinking anyway? What if it came back? Miguel didn't even acknowledge the frizzle of fear racing up his
spine at the thought. Archer and his power trips. Damned spacer thought he owned Miguel or something. That was about to change, oh yeah.
What he refused to admit to himself was the level of his fear. The very same imagination that helped him make plans and work things out to his advantage was a constant source of night terror, and he never slept without a light on. His overactive mind played so many tricks on him he learned to be a light sleeper. And now here he was in the broken guts of a wrecked spaceship with two babies who didn't know better than to stay the hell out of the line of fire. Out of it?