Jyra felt her grip on the doorjamb tighten as she watched the incoming object growing larger as it plunged toward both her and the ground. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t abandon Serana. Comrades near Mastranada pointed and shouted warnings. Several saw Jyra in the transport. They gestured for her to flee, but she ignored them. Her eyes swiveled back to the incoming threat. It looked like nothing more than a long, narrow rectangle. Smoke billowed from its trailing edges.
Jyra was sure it was going to cut across the courtyard, sweeping transports aside, like a hand dusting crumbs off a countertop. But the object rotated and it came down upon the parked ships leading with a short side. Jyra lost sight of it behind her ship, but she felt it strike; the earth shuddered from the impact. Horrendous screeches and thuds followed as the object cut through the small resistance transports. The noise jolted Jyra and she leapt to the ground and ran to the stern of the transport. Beyond it she saw the object, its leading edge buried and still pushing through the dirt. Most of it remained exposed, holding a slanted position about twenty degrees to the ground. Its progress through the courtyard disrupted most of the small transports. The earth finally sapped the momentum of flight and with a metallic groan the object came to rest. Jyra estimated it left a fifty-foot trench through the courtyard. She wanted to investigate the damage but she had to check on Serana first.
Jyra made for the medical room as several comrades came running from Mastranada.
“Relax,” Jyra said, as the runners reached her. “It wrecked ships, but claimed no lives.”
“Are you all right?” one of them asked. He looked like the only soldier in the group. Jyra nodded.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Search the bunker for any cannon or other artillery that might knock something else like it to the ground.”
Jyra climbed into the transport and returned to the medical room. Serana had propped herself onto her elbows, her eyes wide and her hands fastened to the bedrails.
“I forgot to mention large debris from the trash ring is coming back to land,” Jyra said. “Something from there just took out a number of ships. No one was hurt.”
“The Hospitals usually keep a close eye on the ring,” Serana said. “Have other pieces fallen as well?”
“A few hit the complex,” Jyra said. “The blows definitely weakened the building.”
“Well, the building coming down makes more sense knowing that,” Serana said.
Jyra had deliberately omitted it from her telling of the attack, but Serana was a question or two away from the truth; Jyra couldn’t lie outright to her friend. She had to admit what her other friends did.
“Berk and Leonick disabled a couple trash tugs to distract Hospital forces during our raid,” Jyra said. “They couldn’t have predicted this.”
“No they couldn’t,” Serana said, easing onto her pillow. “It was reckless, but they only had the one ship. We’ll find out how many transports we lost shortly, but we could have lost much more. Nearly everyone at this bunker is alive thanks to your friends.”
“Nearly?”
“I’m alive because of you and Kip,” Serana said. “I didn’t run into a hostile building like an idiot.”
Jyra smiled but the mention of Kip tempered the joy.
Serana sat up and unwrapped the bandage on her right forearm. A ragged, curved gash, held shut with stitches, crossed the top of her arm just below the elbow.
“That stings,” Serana breathed, as the air greeted the wound.
“You’re lucky you’ve still got that arm,” Jyra said. Serana lifted her right hand and held the tip of her forefinger near the end of her thumb.
“This close to following dad,” she said.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t save him,” Jyra said.
“He was on borrowed time,” Serana said. “Of course, I wish he were still alive, but I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to die for him, especially trying to free him from the base.”
Jyra didn’t know what to say. She thought of Jarrow crashing to the ground after Hospital forces shot him down. It reminded her of the debris that just landed beside them. The anxiety must have showed on her face, but Serana clapped her hands.
“Enough,” she said. “Grieving needs to wait for the benefit of the wounded. We never forget those who matter to us, right?”
Jyra nodded.
“Nearly two weeks in a coma and I’m right back where it all started,” Serana said.
“Two weeks?” Jyra said, suddenly aware that Serana hadn’t asked her how long she had been sleeping, nor had Jyra offered the information.
“It’s on the screen,” Serana said, motioning to the monitor. “Sounds like I missed plenty. You said you’d emptied my bunker locker. Maybe you can bring me a better outfit.”
“Of course,” Jyra said. She got off the small chair and Serana swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Jyra paused before she went through the door.
“What?” Serana asked.
“I’m just glad to see you standing again,” Jyra said.
Presently, the two of them stepped out of the transport, Serana moving slowly and trying to keep her back straight.
“I couldn’t see how bad the stomach wounds were,” she said. “Just a lot of blood.”
The women looked at Mastranada across the courtyard. Several soldiers positioned an old laser cannon next to it, aiming the barrel upward. The stars overhead faded as dawn approached. A chilly breeze swept over them. Serana wore one of the flight suits recovered from her locker.
Jyra was keen to assist aboard Mastranada, but she also wanted to investigate the debris behind her. Serana suggested they do both.
“We should salvage as many medical kits off the damaged ships as we can,” she said. “After that, you can take a quick look at whatever fell into our midst.”
They waded into the wreckage. The breeze carried the smells of tilled earth and burned metal. The women followed the trench, walking toward the point of first impact. A ship, cloven in two, marked the beginning of the destruction. The object cut through the transport, like shrapnel through flesh. Jyra walked around the end of the trench and searched the crumpled stern for medical supplies, while Serana checked the bow section. They each found a kit and moved on to the next wreck, located entirely on the far side of the trench.
“Too bad there aren’t any reputable hospitals nearby,” Serana said. “Save us the trouble.”
Jyra smiled but her eyes were on the object, one end jutting toward the sky. She couldn’t help feeling like she had seen the shape before. She took a couple steps toward the object, leaning to check the long edges on either side. Jyra placed her foot on a scorched fragment of cowling, and it rotated under her; she had to hop aside to keep her balance.
“Need to watch out,” Serana said. “None of this stuff is stable.”
Her last word opened a pathway in Jyra’s mind. She suddenly remembered the escape into space aboard Mastranada after bombing TF headquarters. A small stabilizer, likely from a destroyed vessel, jammed against the ship. Disabled by enemy fire, Mastranada carried Jyra and the rest of the resistance into a TF freighter cargo bay. The foreign stabilizer was pulled free and smashed the hangar door control on its way back into space, sealing the resistance in a hostile ship.
Jyra realized, with help from Serana’s word choice, this object was a stabilizer. Not the sort that hit Mastranada months ago, but one of many mounted on the stern of the TF freighter. Jyra remembered seeing them as they drifted toward the yawning cargo bay.
“Are you all right?” Serana asked, drawing level with Jyra. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine,” Jyra said. “I’ve seen all I need to for now. Let’s get these kits to the ship. I’m sure they need them.”
Jyra was right. She helped Serana into Mastranada’s cargo bay. Kip had returned to sorting the files. He got to his feet the moment he saw Serana and smiled.
“Good to see you again,” he said. He stepped over several stacks of files and gave her a single-arm hug around the shoulders. He took several kits from her hands.
“And you,” Serana said. “Thanks for looking out for me when I couldn’t.”
Kip nodded and glanced back at the files, uncertain how to accept the praise.
“Hard at work,” Serana said, indicating the stacks.
“Trying to get them reorganized,” Kip said. “More important work going on back there.”
He made for the corridor, carrying the medical kits with him. Jyra and Serana followed. They reached the opening, and the smell of disinfectant and blood stopped them as effectively as any door.
Barlen and Yoke appeared out of the gloom and pushed through the trio into the cargo bay. Yoke was running a rag over his red hands. Barlen kept swallowing hard and his eyes watered.
“Additional kits,” Yoke said. His voice had become higher but still quite earnest. “Excellent. Barlen, can you take those to the treatment area?”
Were he in any condition to protest, Jyra was sure Barlen would have made a case, but it appeared he couldn’t open his mouth. He seized the kits from the others and disappeared. Jyra would have offered to help, but she had the sense Yoke wanted to speak to them alone.
“Sorry for the delay in welcoming you back,” he said with a nod to Serana. “How do you feel?”
“A little tired, but well enough, thanks to you,” she replied.
“Good,” Yoke said, seeming to ignore the compliment. His voice became low once more, but it included a strained edge.
“We’ve got a situation,” he continued. “Those kits will help most of the folks. A few people with the field teams have basic medical skills and are working to stabilize and comfort the wounded. The problem is we have ten comrades with severe injuries—internal bleeding, damaged arteries, head trauma—and I can’t help them with small medical kits.”
“What do you need?” Serana asked.
“Hospital medical transports carry response crates that should contain everything I require as long as they’re sealed,” Yoke said.
“No chance of those being in our fleet?” Jyra asked, gesturing toward the courtyard.
“No,” Kip said. He seemed taken aback by his own derisive tone. “I mean those crates would have been stripped long before we got the ships.”
“If I understand you correctly,” Serana said to Yoke, “we need to find one of these crates and find it fast. Ten lives are on the line and on the clock?”
Yoke nodded.
“Time is the enemy,” he said. The crate is a three-foot white cube. The top should be sealed with red and white striped tape.”
“Are we just supposed to capture the nearest medical transport?” Serana said.
“And what if they follow us back here?” Kip said.
Yoke glanced toward the front of Mastranada and Jyra understood.
“We need a team, five or six at the most, and one of our smaller transports that can still fly,” she said. “We have to go back to the complex as soon as possible.”
“By now, that place will be crawling with Hospital agents,” Kip said, incredulous.
“Exactly,” Jyra said. “They’ll have investigators and engineers on site, but they’ll have medical transports as well. They’ve come to us. It’s our chance to hit them to take what we need.”
“And risk more lives,” Kip said. Jyra sensed anger behind the statement unrelated to the words themselves.
“In order to save more that are in jeopardy,” Jyra said. “Are you in?”
“I’ll get my things and find a suitable transport. Might see who else I can recruit,” Kip said and he crossed the cargo bay and jumped out of sight.
“Thanks for the quick work,” Yoke said. “Come get me once you’re back.”
“Of course,” Jyra said as Yoke turned to leave. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Have you seen Tony Verral?”
Yoke’s expression, boosted by the hopeful conversation, deteriorated.
“He’s back here with his sister,” he said.
“Dania?” Jyra said. “What happened?”
“She got hit by the caving ceiling,” Yoke said. “Apparently, she was in the ship and saw a few files dropped in the building. She leapt back through the window, got the files to Barlen, and then a chunk of concrete got her in the head. Barlen and others managed to retrieve her. She’s one of the ten.”
Jyra was stunned into silence. She immediately thought of Tony, Barlen tending his wounds, as Mastranada pulled away from the complex. A moment earlier, inches separated him from life or death. He seemed almost nonchalant as Barlen began wrapping his arms. He asked no questions about his sister. Jyra remembered seeing Dania for a moment as she came up to the hall with the rest of the perimeter guard. Now, she slipped closer to death with each moment.
“If he’s willing,” Jyra blurted, before Yoke turned out of sight in the doorway, “tell Tony I want him on this mission.”
Yoke gave a quick nod and disappeared. He’d been kept from his work long enough. Jyra felt a pang accompanied by a rush of fear. What if Dania died without her brother at her side? What if she tore them away from the last moments they would spend together? But she had to lead. As the commander of the perimeter guard, Tony would know the lay of the land around the ruined complex.
We’re all coming back, Jyra thought. We won’t lose any more lives. She and Serana caught each other’s eye. Jyra stared into her friend’s fierce gaze; her very being radiated strength and courage. But Jyra couldn’t ignore reality. She recalled glimpsing the deep blue lacerations on Serana’s stomach as she pulled on her flight suit; the staples over the wounds were holding both entrails and skin in place.
“I know what you want,” Jyra said.
“If you want me to go, I’m ready,” Serana said. “If not, I’ll be ready for the next one.”
“I hope you understand,” Jyra said.
“Be the leader you are,” Serana said. Her voice grew stronger, but not out of anger. “Tell me.”
“You’ll be on the next mission, maybe,” Jyra said, after a brief pause. “Not this one.”
“That’s all I needed to know,” Serana said. “You need anything to eat before you go?” She made a casual assessment of Jyra’s appearance. “Change of clothes?”
“I suspect the bunker still has Hospital garb stocked we can use,” Jyra said. “Now that I think of it, being covered in dust from the complex might be a useful disguise. Need to make sure the others on the team are outfitted as such.”
“This will be fast,” Serana said, heading for the door. “Follow me. I’ll get you some food to go and a proper side arm.”
“I have one,” Jyra said, revealing the dagger in her pocket.
“All right you’ll have two, one that can stab and one that can shoot.”
The bunker contained a number of corridors bored deep into the hill. They were similar to the old passages in the base, but the walls in the bunker were filled with lockers and storerooms. Many were empty, but Serana eventually discovered a stocked pantry and a small arms cabinet.
Her pockets bulging with packaged meals and a pistol holstered at her hip, Jyra made her way back to the courtyard with Serana.
“The damage doesn’t seem bad in here at all,” Jyra said.
“The bunker served its purpose,” Serana said. “Took losses out front and a couple passages caved in. Heaviest hits were at the other end. We barely got out of the courtyard before Hospital ships attacked.”
“Since we don’t have a base to go back to, maybe we process the files here,” Jyra said. “There’s space for that to be done and enough provisions, right?”
“I expect so,” Serana said. “But you’ve got to get going.”
Jyra wished she could have told Berk or Leonick about the mission, but she emerged into the courtyard and saw a small field team transport gliding over the massive stabilizer. Kip was in the cockpit with a pilot she hadn’t seen before.
Serana came back to Jyra’s side with a stack of Hospital agent uniforms.
“Want these?” she asked over the whine of the engine. Jyra looked at the gritty powder covering her and squinted at the pilot through the cockpit glass.
“I think the dust will help us blend in,” she said.
“As long as no one sees you get out of the ship pre-dusted,” Serana said. “Good luck!”
She gave Jyra a brief one-armed hug and disappeared into the bunker. Jyra hesitated for a moment, wishing this were an arrival rather than a departure.
She jogged toward the transport as it landed. The cargo bay door swung down to make a loading ramp at the ship’s stern beneath the engine.
“Wait up!”
Jyra looked over her shoulder and saw Tony leap out of Mastranada. He still wore the same outfit, complete with the cut shirtsleeves and bandages on his arms. Even from a distance, Jyra could tell his eyes were puffy. He clutched a machine gun and had a revolver strapped to his belt. He walked right past Jyra, breathing hard and fast.
“Let’s go,” he said. “She doesn’t have time!”
Jyra silently agreed and jogged after Tony. She hadn’t much of a moment to worry about her brother’s death. The news of Dario’s fate came in an instant. Tony, on the other hand, had to sit by his sister, unable to do anything as her life faded away. This mission gave him the chance to act, and as Jyra mentally reviewed her reasons for bringing him aboard, she began to doubt the decision.
We’re all tired and too vulnerable to be doing this, she thought. Though after a much smaller and fully understood target this time, this mission had ten lives at stake. Jyra tried to ignore such details and she climbed the ramp and hollered forward to Kip.
“Ready to go!”
The ship lifted and Kip appeared on the steps leading to the cockpit.
“This transport looks passable for active duty, right?” Jyra asked, partly because she had noticed the faded exterior, but mostly to keep conversation focused on the mission.
“It’s why I picked it,” Kip said. “We’ll see.”
Tony had taken a seat on a short bench fastened to the wall. The floor contained wheel locks for gurneys. Jyra suspected this transport would have served as an airborne ambulance. The shelves on the walls and ceiling might have contained medicine and other supplies. A white crate like the one they sought might have even sat in a corner.
“I’m sorry to hear about Dania,” Kip said, standing near Tony. Jyra silently chastised herself for not mentioning it at all.
Tony mumbled an inaudible reply. She waited for enough time to pass before approaching the two men. She offered the packaged sandwiches and they each accepted one.
“Where are we landing?” she asked Kip.
“Go up and take a look,” Kip said. “You and Revo decide on a spot. They’ve likely set up a med area. We want to land close to the medic ships, but not too close.”
“All right,” Jyra said, heading for the cockpit, eager to leave Kip’s company.
“You Revo?” she said. The top of the steps ended in the cockpit; she stood right next to his broad shoulder. His hair and eyes were dark and his jaw square and set. His appearance reminded Jyra of Berk, but Revo was of average build and maintained his short hair and whiskers.
“You got it and you must be Jyra,” he said. “Where do you think we should land?”
For a moment, Jyra didn’t recognize where they were. Smoke rose in several locations between the ground and sky. When she realized the fires must be from fallen trash, she gazed further toward the east and suddenly saw the forest they hiked through last night. But the bunker was east of the complex.
“You took us around so we could approach from another direction,” Jyra said, understanding replacing confusion.
“Our bunker is close enough to them already,” Revo said.
“Take us lower and we can fly in from the north,” Jyra said. “If we see an established medical area, try to land near it. Sandwich?”
The ship tipped forward as Revo maneuvered toward the earth and nodded as he took the wrapped meal from Jyra. He accelerated to a reasonable emergency transport speed. A plume of black smoke stretched toward the sky. The fierce heat beneath it held the dark cloud together as it coiled upward. A hundred feet off the ground, the column separated, spreading out like a vast shadow, shielding the rising sun.
Jyra realized the smoke originated from the battery Mastranada bombed. The fires had grown, feeding off munitions lockers that compounded the size of the flames. She turned her attention forward to where a gray pile of rubble replaced the complex. Slabs of concrete, three times the size of their transport, stood upright as though they had dropped straight down from an upper floor. Seen from above, it seemed the center of the complex was the most concave part of the ruins. The shattered perimeter walls were the highest part of the building now, which made the complex look like an arena or coliseum. Two large excavators hovered just above the wreckage in the bottom of the pit, turning over broken sheets of concrete like pebbles.
As Jyra surveyed the damage, details emerged in the wreckage: a smashed wooden desk, a twisted elevator door, and even a door of bars. It reminded Jyra of one that used to contain Meriax in the Resistance base.
“Medical site,” Revo said with a nod. Jyra tore her eyes from the heaped remains and saw he was right. Several medical transports were grouped near the complex landing pad. By the time he saw them, Revo had to turn around in order to land within minimal proximity of the other ships. The one hundred and eighty degree turn directed the engine exhaust at the rubble, blowing a mass of gray dust into the air. As Revo placed the transport on the ground, the cloud billowed past the cockpit.
“Open the door now!” Jyra shouted into the hold. She heard the whine of hydraulic pumps lowering the ramp, followed by heavy coughing. She and Revo made their way to the others.
The acrid odor of cracked concrete filled Jyra’s nose.
“That stuff is foul,” Kip said, burying his face under his collar. As the door opened wider, thick clouds of dust swirled into the hold, settling on every surface and coating the newcomers.
“It’s not good to breathe, but it should help us all escape here breathing,” Jyra said. “We at least look like we belong. Leave your weapons. We’ll check the medical transports next to us first for the crate. If we don’t find a sealed one, meet back here. Let’s move before someone tries to greet us.”
Tony slid his machine gun under a bench but quickly untucked his shirt to let it conceal his revolver. Kip relinquished his short rifle and patted a pocket near his hip. Revo opened a storage compartment and pulled out two metallic cylinders. He slid them into his rear pockets and Jyra placed her pistol and holster with the other firearms.
“What did you grab?” Kip asked.
“Flash grenades,” Revo said. “Not going to kill enemies, but we won’t have time for anything grand like that, will we?”
“We’ll see,” Tony muttered.
“Revo’s right,” Jyra said, as they moved toward the exit. “You hear gunfire, get back here immediately. If you’re close enough to help one of us who’s attacking or being attacked, do it, but otherwise we need to get out fast. No point losing anyone on this mission.”
Their feet found familiar ground. The ruins of the complex towered to the left, the medical transports waited to the right. Moans and anguished cries mixed with the roar of small security crafts soaring overhead.
“That black ship,” Tony whispered, nodding at a small angular transport landing near what had been the main entrance of the complex. “That’s someone from Hospital leadership.”
They turned their backs on the new arrival and ducked behind the first medical transport.
“Revo and I will take this one,” Jyra said in a low voice. “You two move onto the next.”
For a moment, Jyra wished she had taken a couple earpieces from Berk, but it didn’t matter now. Any delay could cost lives. She and Revo approached the open cargo bay door. Jyra motioned for Revo to hang back as she had a sudden idea. She swallowed hard and stepped into view.
“Any sealed response crates on board?” she asked. Six individuals, all clad in tight white garments looked up and stared at her. Jyra realized there were three each working at one of two operating tables in the ship.
“Who are you?” one of the surgeons demanded from behind a mask. Jyra froze as the surgeons moved toward her. However much she assumed the dust would disguise her, it hadn’t worked. Revo suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her to the ground. Jyra heard something clatter on the deck of the cargo bay.
“Attack now,” he said. Jyra barely moved to push herself up before a white glare blazed out of the cargo bay. The flash grenade hissed as it detonated, but the shrieks and shouts of surprise were loud enough. Jyra drew her dagger and leapt into the transport, stabbing the stunned surgeons as quickly as she could.
“Help me find the crate!” she shouted. The screams that filled the small operating area were sure to draw attention.
Revo began searching the perimeter of the cargo bay, but if the crate was as large as Yoke described, it wasn’t here. Jyra drew the dagger across the throat of the last struggling surgeon, reminding herself they were enemies. Revo swung a large cabinet door open as Jyra let the body fall from her grasp.
“Got it,” he said. He extracted a white crate that matched Yoke’s description. He stood back as Jyra moved to inspect it herself.
“Looks like the tape’s intact,” Jyra said. “Let’s go.”
Revo, however, was looking at the body on the operating table.
“What is it?” Jyra asked, still crouching by the crate.
“I remember this man from the base,” Revo said, his small eyes narrowing. “I saw him many times.”
Jyra hadn’t even glanced at either body undergoing surgery. She, too, stood up and looked at the man. His eyes were closed, but his head kept twitching to one side and then moving back. A mask with a tube attached sat askew on his face. He had multiple scratches and bruises on his chest and abdomen. Several incisions near his stomach had been recently stitched shut.
His round body and head reposed under a thinning crop of golden hair. Jyra glanced at a screen behind her on the wall and saw the patient name in a corner. Her knees gave way and she had to grab the table to stay upright as two revelations struck her simultaneously.
“Terrence Biggs,” she gasped. His daughter, Charis, had the exact same hair, though not as thin. This was a Resistance donor. It was the second memory, a memory so profound, it felt as though the past reached out and pulled her back to the moment she read the letter that said she was to be forced to work for Tyrorken Fuels. Terrence Biggs had signed that letter.
“He doesn’t have long,” a weak voice stuttered from the floor.
Jyra held her dagger before her and knelt next to the surgeon. She lay on her side, her breaths coming in quick gasps. Jyra had stabbed her in the chest. The surgeon was middle-aged and thin with unfocused gray eyes. Her mask had slipped off her face and dangled around her neck.
“Where was he found?” Jyra asked.
“The holding area of the complex,” the surgeon said. She coughed and a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth.
“The holding area on the sixth floor?” Jyra suggested and the surgeon nodded.
“Not sure how he survived the fall,” she said.
Jyra took a deep breath and felt the scar on the back of her dagger hand. A woman with a similar job as the one in front of her had made the cut with both cruelty and intention.
Terrence groaned and mumbled.
“We need to leave,” Revo said and Jyra heard him dragging the crate.
“You say he’s dying?” Jyra asked. The surgeon nodded again.
“Heavy internal bleeding.”
“Looks like you’ve worked on him,” Jyra said, nodding at the stitches. “I’ll save you some time. Maybe you can save yourself.”
She stood up and took her brother’s dagger, holding it above one of his old superiors, someone who, as far as Jyra was concerned, was responsible for his death. She drove the blade into Terrence’s chest and his eyes flew open, but he could only muster a soft grunt.
“This dagger belonged to my brother who died working for TF,” Jyra said through gritted teeth, staring into the wide, terrified eyes. “You don’t deserve such a merciful end. If I see them, I’ll pass the news of your death to your wife and daughter.”
The surgeon lowered her face. Jyra saw her disappointment as she pulled the dagger free and nodded at Revo. They lifted the crate out of the cargo hold and carried it as fast as they could to their transport. No one else was waiting for them in the hold.
“Fire it up,” Jyra told Revo. “I’ll look for the others.”
“Are you all right?” Revo said, his eyebrows elevated with skepticism. “What was that all about?”
“Everything I said was true,” Jyra replied. “If we make it out of here alive maybe I’ll tell you the whole story. Hurry.”
Jyra glanced toward the leadership craft as she descended the ramp and noticed the gathering of security crafts hovering above the rubble. They borrowed the design of the angular leadership transport; a sharp, pointed bow, long sweeping stabilizers at the stern, and bedecked in shiny black livery. The body of the craft itself seemed squat and bulky compared to the jutting extremities. Jyra paused, surveying the security fleet.
How were they supposed to get back to the bunker? Mere liftoff would attract hostile attention. For a moment, Jyra considered returning on foot, lugging the crate, but the forest was too far away. They would be spotted for sure.
Jyra glanced behind the other medical transports and still saw no sign of Kip or Tony. She returned to the cargo hold and retrieved her pistol.
“Hold off,” she called to Revo.
“What do you mean?” he replied from the cockpit.
“We can’t leave,” Jyra said. She joined him up front and pointed out the problem. “Look at all the security. They’ll lock onto us if we try to run.”
“What do we do?” Revo said.
“Stay here and guard the crate,” Jyra said. “I need to find the others and then we can come up with a plan.”
Jyra left the transport again, but this time she clutched her gun to her side. She checked the ship she and Revo robbed. The surgeons, including the one Jyra spoke to, were all motionless on the floor. Jyra saw one of Terrence’s hands hanging off the edge of the table. A thrill of rage rushed through her and she wanted nothing more than to be next to the dead man, emptying her pistol into him. The circumstances kept Jyra in place and she gripped the threshold of the ship.
She gave Terrence’s hand one last glare and moved on. She had to find the others, but the search was brief. She didn’t even make it to the second transport when Kip and Tony appeared behind it, heading toward their ship.
“No good,” Kip said.
“It’s fine, we got a crate,” Jyra said.
“Perfect,” Tony said, his glum expression vanishing at once.
“But if you notice what’s above us, you’ll see we can’t just fly out of here,” Jyra said.
The men glanced upward and Jyra saw a gulp travel down Kip’s throat.
“We need to go now,” Tony said, urgency reclaiming him instantly.
“Back to the ship,” Kip said. “We’ll figure something out.”
Jyra followed the others and observed another ship appear in the sky, dropping toward the rubble.
She hadn’t seen the body style before, a small shuttle, but she recognized the logo on the side of it immediately. Jyra would never forget the pair of oilrig towers that graced all TF property and paperwork.
“What are they doing here?” she muttered, pausing on the ramp. She felt Kip stop beside her.
“Tyrorken Fuels,” he read the name aloud on the side of the shuttle. “The first resistance you were in before fought against them, right?”
“I’m surprised you remember,” Jyra said. “Looks like they’re in league with the Hospitals.”
“Maybe we’ve been fighting a common enemy all along,” Kip said. He proceeded into the transport without another word.
Jyra knew she had to move. They had what they needed to save comrades at the bunker, but her boots were fused to the ramp. She watched the shuttle land next to the Hospital leadership transport. The distance made it hard to judge which parties belonged to TF and the Allied Hospitals, but Jyra witnessed plenty of handshaking and, to her outrage, the customary Tyrorken gesture of mourning.
She resisted the urge to sneak closer to the distant ship and instead walked to the top of the ramp. The three men were circled around a floor hatch, discussing methods to escape.
“We need a chaotic event,” Revo said. “Something to distract them.”
Berk and Leonick were able to sabotage tugs and make debris rain from space, Jyra thought. The trash ring seemed to be under control again, which meant they had to find other options to create a distraction.
“No ship-mounted guns on this?” Jyra said, knowing the answer, but hoping Revo would contradict her. He shook his head. Jyra leaned against the doorjamb, hand on her pistol, thinking hard. A faint crackle of static drew her attention and she ran to the medical transport she and Revo attacked.
“We are ready to transfer Biggs,” a voice said through a radio. “Please acknowledge and verify him prepped for release.”
Jyra scrambled into the cargo bay and grabbed the radio mic.
“He’s ready,” she said tersely, trying to mask her panic.
“Very good. On our way up now,” the unknown speaker replied.
Jyra crawled out of the transport, knees from shaking. She had invited a whole host of hostiles right on top of her grounded ship. She tried to reassure herself, certain that preserving radio silence would have brought the entire security contingent down upon them. They should have a smaller crowd coming their way at least.
Jyra returned to her transport, hoping to walk into an established plan. She made sure to close the door behind her. She wished the artillery at the battery still worked, but Berk and Leonick successfully decommissioned the site. Smoke rose in the distance and Jyra cast a glance at the rubble before the door closed.
“Everything all right?” Kip asked.
“Got a plan?” Jyra said.
Tony shook his head, staring at the floor, his eyes wide and forehead shining with sweat.
“Then it’s not all right,” Jyra said. “Revo mentioned chaos. That sounds like a good place to start.”
She joined the others in the circle, expecting a solution.
“Any of those security ships will catch up to us,” Kip said. “They’re already airborne.”
“So we need to ground them, right?” Jyra said, glancing at Revo.
“Of course,” he said. “If they land, we can outrun them, but how do you intend to manage that without heavy artillery?”
Jyra thought of the canon set up next to Mastranada. Was it even worth considering the idea?
“What are you thinking?” Kip said.
“We only retrieved bodies and files from the complex before it fell,” Jyra said. “I didn’t see anyone grab weapons.”
“You’re suggesting we search through two collapsed floors to get to artillery that may or may not work?” Kip said. “They may have been crushed or jammed with dust.”
“We have to get out of here,” Jyra said, trying to keep her voice level, but she heard the volume rising. “We have what Yoke needs, but we can’t lead the security fleet back to the bunker. No enemy follows us.”
“Why is the door closed?” Tony asked, as though he’d just noticed the oppressive darkness.
“I heard a radio transmission when I just checked on the transport next to us,” Jyra said, picking her words carefully. “The leadership is coming to collect one of the patients. I figured a small barrier between us and them would be useful.”
“The patient must be an agent for Tyrorken Fuels,” Kip said. “The Hospitals are trading the agent for something else.”
“We don’t know that. Even if we did, it doesn’t help us escape!” Jyra said. She was already lying to the others. She could feel Revo’s gaze. He knew Jyra omitted information about killing Terrence.
“We can leave through the belly,” Tony said, looking at the hatch at his feet. “Make a quick search of the rubble and return. It’s probably best we aren’t here if leadership is so close. High profile guards with them shoot to kill.”
Kip shrugged and shook his head.
“I don’t like it but there’s no other way.”
They did their best to conceal their weapons once they crawled from beneath the ship. Kip and Tony strapped the large guns to their backs. They crossed the barren patch of dirt between their transport and the rubble. Just as they began stepping over and around chunks of concrete, five security ships overhead roared to life. They swooped toward them and Jyra nearly pulled her pistol, an ineffective weapon against security craft, but enough of a provocation to encourage a fiery rebuke.
“Just keep walking!” Jyra shouted, recovering herself. “If they thought we were enemies, we’d already be dead!”
The security ships landed near the field team transport. Their engines blew another wave of dust off the rubble that enveloped the resistance team. Jyra coughed as the cloud penetrated her mouth and nostrils, seeming to soak up all the moisture in her lungs. She stumbled and fell, but her arms caught her against a great slab. They reached the edge of the fallen complex. Jyra realized the security ships were likely responding to the slaughtered surgeons and felt her fear ease.
Under the cover of the swirling dust cloud they scurried upward, hands and feet slipping on loose blocks of concrete. Though most were pinned in place by others in the pile, some slabs were loose and they slid or rocked, threatening to crush or trap those who climbed upon them.
Despite the hazards, Jyra made it to the top of the rubble along with the rest of the company. They moved toward the concave center, keeping an eye on the security crafts above them. Allied Hospital agents were already digging through the rubble below them with the excavators at their side.
“Fifty or sixty workers at least,” Tony muttered as they picked their way over the uneven ground, trying to dodge twisted rebar and tangled wire. “They’re spread out, but the smaller units are still impossible to pick off.”
“We’ll either have to surprise them, or act like we’re part of their crew,” Jyra said.
“Surprise won’t work,” Tony said. “We can’t stay hidden for long.”
Jyra knew he was right, which meant she was going to have to engage. She only hoped the dust covering her outfit made a sufficient disguise.
“Look,” Kip said, pointing. “Two square shafts. Those were the stairwells at either end of the hallway.”
Though shattered and collapsed with the rest of the building, the square hollow columns for stairs between floors were easy to see amid the sea of gray and white debris.
“Head for them, then,” Jyra said. “Weapons will be near there.”
One of the excavators, accompanied by a ground crew, also happened to be in the same area. As they got closer, Jyra realized they were likely working right over the hallway of bloodshed. It was hard to know just by looking at the debris which floor the crew was currently excavating. Kip pointed to the far stairwell and Jyra saw the black scorch marks.
“Laser cannon,” she said and Kip nodded.
At that moment, a member of the ground team spotted the new arrivals, or at least decided to hail them and began hopping from slab to slab, coming their way.
“Who are we?” Revo whispered quickly.
“We were sent here to help with rescue and recovery or in any way we can,” Jyra replied. “No need to overcomplicate this.”
“More hands?” the worker asked. The hope in his voice seemed incongruous with his weary expression and bent, defeated posture.
“Indeed,” Jyra said. “We’re here to help.”
“Excellent,” the man said. “You can call me Stries. Sensors indicate we’re about to uncover some bodies buried in the collapse. No idea if any of them are alive, but until we find them, we won’t know. Follow me.”
They had no choice but to fall in step behind Stries as he led them toward the thrumming excavators. He was a head taller than Jyra, but it was hard to discern much more of his appearance. Gray dust covered him from his battered work boots to his flimsy brimmed hat.
Once they were right up next to the excavator, it was hard to talk over the deep hum of the engine. Shafts of light penetrated the rubble near the machine and, with a jolt of excitement, Jyra saw a familiar hallway through the gaps in the tumbled debris. She thought she could see bodies below, but she tried to focus instead on any shapes that might be a laser canon.
“This is what we’ve got!” Stries hollered, pointing at a slab that lay flat across two others leaning toward each other. “We’re going to lift the top piece and hope the two below it stay put. If they do, we’ll have a way into the corridor below and can start recovering bodies. Stand back.”
He gestured to the excavator operator and the boom swung over the target slab.
“Kip,” Jyra hissed, struggling to be heard and discrete at the same time. He nodded without looking at her.
“There’s an opening to the right of my feet,” Jyra said. “I’ll go down there and if I find the weapon, I’ll pass it up to you through that hole. Keep an eye out.”
Kip nodded again.
The excavator claw seized the slab and lifted. The slabs beneath began to cave, but the far upper corners of each collided before the nearer ones met, leaving a narrow opening.
“Not ideal,” Stries said.
The excavator soared to another potential rescue site nearby. Stries waved his team forward.
“Anyone want to slip through there?” Stries asked. Jyra saw trepidation on every face of the team, so she took the opportunity.
“I’ll go first,” she said.
“Careful,” Stries said.
Jyra stepped cautiously to the edge of the access point. She felt the vibration beneath her feet; the slabs were still settling.
“Let me get a rope,” Stries said after glancing at the distance of the drop to the floor.
“It’s all right,” Jyra said.
Stries gave her a searching stare. Normally, Jyra would have held onto the edge of the opening and lowered herself down, but the perilous nature of the slabs combined with the scrutinizing gaze of an enemy forced her to step forward and tuck her elbows against her sides. She dropped and landed in a crouch.
Dust swirled in the rays of sunlight, teased by sporadic breezes that penetrated the rubble. Despite the occasional break of illumination, darkness dominated the hallway. Jyra moved carefully in the gloom. The bodies, like everything here, were covered in dust. Jyra kicked her boots through the debris, but time after time, they hit only concrete or splintered wood.
Another kick, and she heard a metallic thud. She plunged her hand into the dust, heart pounding, and recovered a laser canon. She smiled in the dark, knowing they still had obstacles between them and the bunker, but now they had a chance to clear such barriers.
She moved under the opening she mentioned to Kip and grasped the end of the weapon, about to extend the butt into view, but she paused at the sound of Stries’ voice.
“You’ve got your badges, right?” he asked. “Almost forgot to check.”
Jyra swore she could hear the gritty dust grind under Kip’s feet with a nervous pivot. She peered upward and wished she hadn’t seen Kip patting his vest and the pockets of his trousers.
“I…I think we left them behind,” Kip muttered.
“All of you?” Stries said. “No identification?”
Jyra couldn’t see his face, but she felt the weight of his skepticism. It was as though he cocked a gun before the others. Jyra also realized Stries could seal her in a tomb of shattered concrete with a single command.
She froze, unable to tell if adrenaline or panic spread through her. She strode back to the entry point, knowing she only had one option. She picked a target and aimed, certain there was no other way.
As long as the ship gets clear passage back to the bunker, Jyra thought as she shouldered the laser canon. The sight light flashed green and she pulled the trigger, bracing for the recoil. She didn’t wait to see what happened, but leapt toward daylight, desperate to escape the ruined hallway. She cleared the slabs a familiar sensation coursing beneath her skin. An explosion overhead brought everyone’s attention skyward. Shrieks of grinding metal and the remains of a security craft plunged around them.
“Run!” Jyra shouted. “Get back to the transport!”
Stries pulled a handgun from under his jacket, but Kip grabbed him around the neck. Tony and Revo seized their weapons and fired on the assembled Hospital team as they fumbled to defend themselves.
“Run now!” Jyra shouted, lunging back they way they came. The detritus of the ruined security craft rained upon the rubble, battering an excavator to the ground. Most of Stries’ team disappeared under a sheet of loose engine cowl. Kip pushed Stries away and shot him before fleeing.
The tight assembly of the security ships proved useful; the explosion of the craft Jyra hit crippled three others. They plummeted into the rubble sending up clouds of dust large enough to remind Jyra of the sandstorms on Tyrorken.
They ran, but Jyra lagged behind as she kept an eye overhead. Any one of the security ships could open fire. If she kept all the threats in sight, she could attack before they could. Three-quarters of the way back, the barrage began. Streams of bullets sprayed around them and everyone took shelter in the rubble. The ship-mounted machine guns were powerful, but the ammo couldn’t penetrate the thick concrete.
“Hold position!” Jyra said. She aimed at the attacking ships, which dropped below the rest of the hovering craft and glided toward her. Before she pulled the trigger, she noticed the other security forces idling above and targeted one of them instead. The laser canon tore a hole in the stern and the craft spun into one of its neighbors. Both ships fell, one almost landing on top of Jyra but she was already running.
“Go, go!” she yelled.
Tony and Revo led the way across the ruins. They heard the whine of enemy craft engines and fell behind a slab for cover. The five security ships that landed around their transport rose into view, firing round after round. Revo jerked sideways as a bullet grazed his arm.
Jyra listened to the thunder of guns and heard as one stopped and then another. She checked behind her; the pursuing ships hadn’t made it through the dust yet. The attacking ships sat before her, defenseless as they reloaded. Jyra fired three times and two crafts fell immediately.
“Nearly there!” she shouted. “Keep going!”
The fallen ships sent up another cloud of dust on impact, creating more cover as the Resistance retreated from the advancing regiment. Jyra reached the edge of the rubble and started climbing down as fast as she could, clutching the laser canon. They all reached the ground and ran behind one of the fallen security crafts. Flames fed on the remains of the engine and kept Jyra and the others at a distance from their shelter.
Only two hundred feet away separated them from their transport, but two ground security teams moved in, trapping them where they stood. The guards wore black armor, matching the aesthetic of their crafts. Patches of dust rose under each foot as they advanced.
One team came from behind the medical ships and another crept along the edge of the rubble. The chatter from the radios sounded chaotic, but Jyra heard one phrase repeated in a screeching tone.
“Land all security ships now!”
The whine of multiple engines overhead filled the air as the order took effect. Three ships landed to the right of Jyra. The security team marching next to the rubble came from her left.
“Take cover and cover me,” Jyra said.
“What do you mean?” Kip said.
“Cover me from the team by our ship,” Jyra said. They were running out of time. She ran into the open near the bow of their burning shield. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the security team near the medical area aim at her, but she focused on the approaching enemy next to the rubble. She wrapped her arms around the laser cannon again and heard gunfire from her comrades. Jyra pulled the trigger and allowed the recoil to knock her to the ground. The laser struck a slab above the security team. Chunks of concrete both bigger than Jyra and smaller than her thumbnail blew in all directions. A large one struck the burning craft, causing it to lurch sideways and nearly pin Kip under its scorching carcass. An avalanche of other slabs buried the nearby team before they could raise a weapon.
The concrete shrapnel even hit the members of the other security team.
“Go!” Jyra shouted, struggling to get back to her feet. “Revo, grenade to me!” she added.
He tossed the explosive to her as he sprinted toward the remaining team with the others, firing their guns. Jyra felt the strength prickling in her muscles as she caught the weapon. She bit the pin, pulled the grenade free, and heaved it toward the security team. She drew the pistol out of her holster and opened fire as she ran for the transport. Three new security teams appeared from the crafts that landed nearby.
Tony reached the transport first as the grenade detonated in the middle of the nearby security team. He pushed his back against the hull, firing repeatedly as the guards screamed following the flash of the grenade. Tony gestured at Revo to get under the ship as he approached and the pilot disappeared. Jyra fired defensively and saw Kip behind Tony, beckoning her onward. He shot two security members targeting Jyra. She reached them and Kip ducked out of sight. Jyra felt the ship vibrating; it must be ready to fly.
“Time to go!” Jyra shouted.
“Get under there then!” Tony said, emptying his gun into the advancing team. Jyra dropped to the ground and crawled forward. She threw her weapons through the hatch and looked back before pulling herself inside. She paused, suddenly aware of the bullets striking the ship.
“Come on!” Kip shouted. She glanced above her and saw him kneeling down and seizing her arms. She ducked quickly and saw the silhouette of a body lying next to the ship, bullets ripping through the flesh and clothing. The bandaged arms and the sleeveless shirt could belong to no one else.
“Where’s Tony?” Kip asked. Jyra could only shake her head as she watched, unable to speak or act.
“Go!” Kip shouted at the cockpit.
Jyra felt him and the transport lift her up. She collapsed on the floor and saw the laser canon. Kip made to close the hatch.
“Wait,” Jyra said. As wind howled through the opening and bullets peppered the belly of the ship, Jyra slid to the hatch and released a final shot from the laser canon. The onslaught of bullets ceased as the security team disappeared in a cloud of dust and fire. The advancing teams retreated. Jyra lay back on the floor, sliding the canon away from her as Kip sealed the hatch. The roar of wind vanished.
“Where do I go?” Revo called from the cockpit. “None of the security ships are in the air, but they will be soon.”
Jyra stood up and followed Kip up front, struggling to keep her mind on task. They were still far from safety.
“Go back the way we came,” Jyra said, hoping she only sounded exhausted. “The long route you took. I guess we’ll see if anyone follows.”
Revo rotated the ship to point north, rubbing the bleeding cut on his arm.
“They’ll have to be quick,” he said. “Hang on.”
The pitch of the whining engine increased behind them. Revo leaned back in his seat and Jyra moved to the bulkhead, grabbing the edge of the door and flattened her back against the wall.
Revo squeezed an interlock button and pulled a lever toward him. The engine screamed and the ship jerked with immediate forward thrust. The ground below turned into a blur. They flew through the smoke rising from the ruined battery, but Jyra only saw it for a moment.
The rapid flight ended almost as soon as it began. The ship slowed over a distant forest. Revo dropped quickly toward the trees and flew as close as he dared to the canopy. He glanced back at his passengers.
“Didn’t know this had a slingshot drive? Standard on field team vessels,” he grinned through the gray dust, but the smile fell in seconds. “Where’s Tony?”
“He didn’t make it,” Kip said.
“What, how?” Revo said. “He was the first one to get back.”
“And he covered us,” Jyra said. “They got him.” She had to pause as her throat tightened around the words. “I’m sure they hit him as he was about to crawl for the hatch. I saw the bullets.” She paused again and returned to the hold, eyeing the white crate in the corner.
“We’ll be back soon,” Revo said in a hollow voice. “Hope the crate has everything Yoke needs.”