Gray dirt swirled in the lukewarm water pouring into the shower drain. Jyra pushed her face into the gentle spray, feeling the grit sliding over her cheeks and lips. She scrubbed her hair and watched the water around her toes turn black.
Steam filled the room as she stepped onto the floor mat and retrieved a towel. Jyra stared at the vapor. It reminded her of the mist she had seen over the Silanpre valleys, vast blankets of fog obscuring the land beneath them. It had been months and Jyra still spotted significant differences from Tyrorken. On her home planet, she never saw windows or mirrors masked by condensation; the arid climate absorbed all spare moisture. In the washroom, Jyra faced the sink. She glimpsed herself in the mirror before showering. Dust from the demolished Allied Hospital intelligence complex had settled in her hair and crept into every layer of clothing. The outfit from the mission lay crumpled on the floor, looking as though it had been dyed gray.
Jyra returned her attention to the mirror and wiped the fogged glass with a corner of her towel. She saw her face, framed by wet hair, staring back at her. The last time she looked in a mirror with such intention had been in her bedroom on Tyrorken.
Dario had just died, Jyra thought. Now Dania lost her brother. Grief subsided during the shower, but Jyra bowed her head as the unbidden memory returned. She felt the jolt of dread while watching Tony’s fallen form. His death was doubly difficult to accept since Jyra couldn’t help feeling responsible.
She initially wanted him to join the mission because he had circled the complex during the first strike and would be familiar with the surroundings. The moment she saw him approaching the transport across the courtyard and registered his distress, she wished she had turned him away. I even knew we were all fatigued, too tired to launch another mission,Jyra thought. His sister’s life was on the line.
Despite the awful loss, the mission had technically been a success. Revo managed to fly free of the combat zone, leaving the Allied Hospital security crafts behind. He landed the transport next to Mastranada and helped Kip lug the crate to Yoke. Serana met Jyra at the base of the ship ramp and immediately noticed Tony’s absence.
“We couldn’t save him,” Jyra said, unable to meet her friend’s eyes. “We couldn’t have escaped without him.”
“Then he died for a noble cause,” Serana said. “He helped save more lives.”
“We don’t know that,” Jyra said, feeling despair taking over.
Serana laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder and Jyra forced herself to make eye contact.
“I told you I was alive because of you and Kip, but Yoke deserves some credit, too,” Serana said. “He’s been doing great work under pressure. If anyone will capitalize on Tony’s last act, it’s him.”
Serana’s gaze seemed to penetrate beyond her eyes and grip Jyra’s mind. Jyra returned the encouraging expression and then an oppressive wave of questions broke on her tongue. She felt dizzy and Serana took her arm.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” she suggested. “I’ll take you to the washroom. Berk stowed your duffel aboard Mastranada. He’ll want”— Serana broke off abruptly.
“What?” Jyra asked.
“Nothing,” Serana said. “I collected some clothes from your duffel and took them into the washroom already. A good shower will help.”
They entered the bunker and Jyra shuffled after Serana, succumbing to the questions bombarding her mind. What was Serana about to say about Berk? How were Yoke’s patients? Had the crate mission actually mattered? Where was Kip?
Beneath it all, Jyra sensed the stirring curiosity within as she glanced over her shoulder before rounding the corner in the bunker passage. She caught a glimpse of the jutting stabilizer. How had TF crashed back into her life—wreckage from a company freighter, the return of members of the TF Resistance, the Hospital ship meeting the TF shuttle, and Terrence Biggs, a TF employee and a donor to the Resistance on Silanpre—with such synchronicity?
Jyra scrutinized her expression, her fingertips brushing her puffy eyelids and guiding wet strands of hair behind her ears. She craved sleep, but her mind was far too alert. She tugged on the pair of clean, faded trousers and slid her arms into the sleeves of a button-up shirt. She held her own gaze in the mirror as she secured the buttons in their respective holes.
TF seized her attention again as she collected the dusty clothes from the floor. Jyra had placed the pistol next to the sink, but she nearly forgot about her brother’s dagger in the pocket of the dirty trousers. She would never forget stabbing Terrence Biggs. Carefully, she ran the blade under the tap, scrubbing free what blood remained. Once it was clean, Jyra placed the dagger in her pocket. She wiped the dust off the holster and pistol as best she could and secured the belt around her hips. The odor of powder from the firearm filled her nose and she pushed the renewed grief aside.
Jyra left the room and dropped the soiled clothes in a nearby washing unit. She had an urgent need to find Kip, but had no idea where to find him or what to say. She wanted to apologize and defend her point of view. It seemed impossible to manage either with sincerity in a single conversation. Jyra didn’t know all the sources of Kip’s anger, which only added to her anxiety. She suspected he was upset that she trusted Meriax. Maybe that’s why he chose to mention how many Resistance members were killed during the raid on the complex.
Jyra stopped several steps into the courtyard. She hadn’t considered Meriax at all since she returned. She had been injured, but nothing life-threatening. Even so, Jyra had discovered some information on the last mission and she wanted to see what Meriax thought of it.
The stabilizer captured Jyra’s attention again. It was hard to ignore its presence, especially since it reminded her of the curious meeting she witnessed between TF and Hospital leadership. Hardly an hour had passed since her return to the bunker and Jyra already wanted to leave. Her leg twitched and she wished to fly away, take off and keep going up, leaving the ruined courtyard behind. The momentary fantasy provided a means to answer a real question concerning the stabilizer. Where did it come from? She knew the class of ship it belonged to and if part of it was here, the rest had to be nearby.
Jyra discouraged the inner strategizing immediately. This was no time to launch another mission. Conversation demanded priority over action. Tony must be properly honored, along with the rest of the dead and wounded. The damage to the fleet in the courtyard had to be assessed. On top of it all, Jyra longed to speak to Kip and Serana, though not at the same time. Unfortunately she couldn’t look for them now, because a gruff voice called her name and she saw Berk coming toward her, hair wafting behind him with each stride. He took a long pull from a bottle as he approached. He tugged the glass neck free from his lips and whiskers when he stopped before her.
“Tell me next time your going into a combat zone,” Berk said. The gruff rasp was gone, replaced with a pleading tone that didn’t suit him at all.
“It was short notice,” Jyra said, taken aback by the delivery. “I wished you had been there.”
“Just say the word,” Berk said. “There’s always time for that.”
“I will,” Jyra said, hearing an edge in her words. Something wasn’t quite right. Berk nodded and turned to leave.
“I will if I think it’s necessary,” Jyra amended. Berk stopped and glanced at her.
“Sounded necessary this time,” Berk said. “I heard someone died.”
“It could have been you,” Jyra said.
“As long as it wasn’t you.”
“You think you need to protect me?”
“You wouldn’t be here if Leonick and I hadn’t got you out of that building.”
“I wouldn’t be on this planet if it weren’t for you two,” Jyra said.
“You were lucky to get out,” Berk said.
“I’m sure,” Jyra replied, unable to hide the sarcasm. Berk held her in a steady stare and she saw his eyebrows nearly unite above his nose. The moment of anguish was as uncharacteristic as his bizarre tone. “I’m glad you came,” she said. She took several steps to Berk’s side, laid a hand on his massive forearm, and returned his gaze. “And you’re right. We would have failed without your assistance. I’m trying to keep this resistance alive along with the people in it. I’m trying to lead. We lost one comrade on this last mission and we need to pay our respects to him and the others. His sacrifice may have saved ten other lives. When I need your help, I’ll ask for it.”
“Understood,” Berk said. “You’re in the cockpit and I’m no mutineer, at least not against you.”
“This isn’t all me,” Jyra said, sensing an ease in the tension. “I’m the newcomer here.”
“Well, you’ve done good work from what I can tell,” Berk said. “Keep leading.”
“What happened to your flasks?” Jyra asked, nodding at the bottle.
“Crushed most of them,” Berk said. “Still got the one you gave me, though. Going got a little tougher recently and most of the flasks became undersized in the tenser moments.” He made a crushing gesture with his fist.
They both smiled and Jyra pushed off his arm, suddenly aware that Berk’s concern for her safety might have been mitigated had he known the gift she received from the Hospital. Now didn’t feel like the right moment to explain it.
“Let’s go to the ship,” Jyra said. “I need to check on Yoke. Also, Serana started to say you wanted something from me. What’s that about?”
“I’ve said my piece,” Berk grunted as they climbed into the cargo bay. “Also letting you know about moving your duffel. Thought it’d be safer in here. It’s in one of the forward cabins. You’re welcome to stay in there if you want.”
“Thanks,” Jyra said.
Berk nodded and veered toward the wall to check on several crates of supplies.
Barlen met Jyra inside Mastranadaat the entrance to the recovery area.
“I thought you might be along,” he said. Jyra was relieved to see his nausea had subsided.
“Yoke said to thank you for the crate,” he continued. “He’s already putting it to use.”
“How are the patients?” Jyra asked.
“Yoke said the crate has given the ten a fighting chance.”
Jyra nodded, wishing her relief could supersede the guilt and sadness of losing Tony. Almost as if he read her thoughts, Barlen leaned forward.
“Tribute to the fallen is set for tonight in the courtyard,” he said. “Serana is spreading the word.”
“Thanks for saying” she said, regretting her wooden tone. “How is Meriax?”
“You’re welcome to see,” Barlen said.
Jyra followed Barlen into a room that had once been hers. The sleek, dull gray walls were bare and two sconce fixtures threw a dim glow upon the floor. Meriax relaxed with her back against the wall with her legs stretched out on the small bed. Her right shoulder and thigh were both bandaged and dried blood lingered in the ends of her blond hair.
“How did your mission go?” Meriax asked.
“That can wait,” Jyra said, relieved to see Meriax alert and sitting up. “How are you?”
“Fine except for the obvious,” Meriax said. “I’ve got a couple shrapnel wounds and I’m still recovering from the meds.”
She paused and gazed at Jyra as though struggling to recognize her.
“Why are you looking after me?” Meriax asked.
Serana’s words emerged from the past.
“Those you bring in, you look after,” Jyra said. “Of course, you found your own way into the base, but I dragged you into this particular campaign.”
Meriax turned her large eyes onto her injured leg and picked at the bandage.
“I guess we’re both to blame,” she said. Her voice became stronger and Jyra sensed the feeling in the room shift. She barely finished considering how the statement referred to Meriax’s wounds before she saw an opening.
“You’re right,” she said, crossing the room and running a finger along the opposite wall, letting the chill on her fingertip ground her.
“We’re both to blame for our mutual game,” she said.
Meriax glanced at Jyra but continued to watch her finger on the wall.
“You knew the files were hard copies,” Jyra said.
“I was curious how one hacks into a database of physical files,” Meriax said.
“Is there a digital equivalent somewhere?” Jyra asked.
“You’re not going after it now, are you?” Meriax said.
“I won’t go after something unless I know it exists,” Jyra said.
“You didn’t even know the format of the files you just stole,” Meriax said. “Didn’t stop you.”
“Does a digital database exist?” Jyra said and Meriax shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “This was the only one I knew about.”
“What was on the sixth floor?” Jyra said.
Meriax averted her gaze too quickly. She picked at the bandage harder than before.
“Swallow whatever you’re about to say,” Jyra said, rolling her eyes. “I know it’s a lie. Try again.”
“It was a detention black site,” she said. “I never knew for certain, but everything indicated it was.”
“What was it used for?”
“Detaining people.”
“What sort of people?”
“Important ones, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I was a spy not a prison warden,” Meriax said. “My best guess is an operation like the Allied Hospitals has to rely on political and judicial insiders, local and interplanetary, in order to survive. Using that power against adversaries means the defeated have to be put somewhere, likely black sites.”
Jyra considered the hypothesis and felt her hand moving toward the pistol on her hip. Meriax seemed incapable of attacking, but continued to appear unnerved. Even her guess lacked something, an omission of an important detail. The delivery had to be part of Meriax’s spy training.
“Anything else I can help you with?” she said, looking up from her leg.
“Assuming the hospital operates black sites, why would you guess they are only used for imprisoning adversaries?” Jyra asked.
Meriax sat up straighter against the wall and her large eyes narrowed with sudden concentration.
“What are you getting at? That they use them for protective custody?”
“Black sites can’t operate on their own,” Jyra said, charging ahead with her idea. “They need a transportation network to shuttle prisoners. I’m suggesting that not everyone at a black site is treated as a hostile.”
Meriax fell silent and relaxed against the wall. Jyra suddenly heard the blood thudding inside her ears. Almost without thinking, she extracted her pistol and aimed it at Meriax.
“What are you doing?” Meriax said, stiffening.
“If Kip is right about you, I should pull the trigger right now,” Jyra said. She looked beyond her firearm at Meriax whose eyes widened with fear while her fingers dug into the mattress. Jyra suddenly remembered how Serana had advocated for her to be part of the resistance out of admitted self-interest.
“It’s an easy trap,” Jyra said aloud.
“What is?” Meriax said.
“Convincing yourself that someone is something they’re not,” Jyra said.
“Can you…lower the gun?” Meriax said, raising her hands. “That will hurt more than punching me in the face. I can’t make any fast moves.”
Jyra returned the pistol to the holster as casually as she had drawn it, but she kept her hand on the grip.
“Is Kip right about you?” Jyra asked. “Are you just a spy waiting to turn on us all? You need to start giving me plain answers.”
“I wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t support the cause,” Meriax said.
“What cause?”
“That of the resistance,” Meriax said.
“Why do you care?” Jyra said. “The Allied Hospitals loom large here, but I’m sure you had many paths to choose from besides spying for them. Back in the base, you said you just wanted to survive.”
“I want to live,” Meriax said. “There’s a difference. And there weren’t many options for me. My parents died when I was young and I was out on the street for as long as I can remember.”
“How did they die?” Jyra asked.
“I suspect the Hospitals had something to do with it,” Meriax said. “And once I had enough money to afford a new identity, I volunteered to be a spy. I wanted to take down the Allied Hospitals from within. It’s easy to dream it and nearly impossible to do it.”
“Why haven’t you declared your support for the resistance then?” Jyra asked. “Why are you still equivocating?”
“I’ve never been sure which side I was on, I’ve been a spy most of my life after all,” Meriax said. “At their cores, the Allied Hospitals and the resistance oppose each other. The manufactured crossover of spies tells a different story. At some level, there’s cooperation between the two. This resistance, isolated from the main resistance, is easier to trust. It’s smaller, more focused. We’re all united to bring down the Allied Hospitals.”
“Did you just defect?” Jyra said.
“As long as I’m no longer accountable for past actions,” Meriax said. “I’d be honored to join. You know how useful I can be.”
Jyra thought of Kip and Serana and wished one or both of them were present to witness Meriax’s request. It seemed risky to forgive some transgressions Jyra knew nothing about. What if Meriax had a part in organizing Fritz to sabotage the Emarand Liberationmission? Berk told Jyra to keep leading. She couldn’t ignore the injuries on the woman before her, injuries sustained serving a resistance mission.
“All right,” Jyra said, dropping her hand from her weapon. “Leave the past behind and start fresh as a member of the resistance.”
“Thank you,” Meriax said, her eyes lighting up.
“Just because you’re forgiven doesn’t mean you can forget,” Jyra said, trying to keep her delivery even. “Do you have any information right now that we can use for offensive or defensive purposes?”
“When they brought me in here, I caught a glimpse of the courtyard,” Meriax said. “What happened to the ships?”
Jyra quickly explained the arrival of the stabilizer.
“Perfect,” Meriax said. “That makes an excellent cover. To better conceal activity at the bunker, select a few of the best ships and park them elsewhere in the forest. Maybe set off some explosives in the courtyard to really work it over. The Hospitals hit this place before. They’ll patrol it again. The crashed stabilizer was part of a crisis spread across miles. Its appearance shouldn’t attract unwanted attention.”
“I’ll get a team working on it,” Jyra said. “Good idea.”
She took a deep breath, preparing to ask if any resistance donors served as spies, but a knock on the door interrupted the opportunity.
“Come in,” Jyra said, as Meriax lay back on the bed.
The door opened and Kip stepped into the room. He looked as dour as he had lugging the crate off the transport with Revo. Like Jyra, he had found a shower and now wore a baggy, long-sleeve shirt and a loose pair of trousers. His laced boots still bore the gray dust from the fallen complex.
“Can we talk?” Kip asked. He and Jyra stared at each other for a moment. Kip finally glanced at Meriax, who gave him a sarcastic smile and a two-fingered salute with her uninjured arm.
“We’ll talk later,” Jyra found herself muttering as she shuffled toward the door. “Feel better.”
“I already do,” Meriax said.
Kip led Jyra out into the courtyard, both of them walking in silence. Kip finally sat down on a crushed ship engine in the shadow of the stabilizer.
“How are you doing?” Kip asked.
“I’d feel better if we all made it back,” Jyra said.
“Me too,” Kip said. He pushed his bangs off his forehead and looked sideways, clasping his hands before him. Jyra joined him on the engine.
“It’s more than losing Tony,” she said.
A constricted half-laugh escaped Kip’s mouth and he nodded.
“You’re right,” he said. “I hate that your friends are here, I hate that you’re standing by the spy, I hate the number of casualties we’ve suffered, and I hate that this all feels like some colossal mistake.”
“Meriax just swore to serve the resistance,” Jyra said gently.
“After this spy debacle, I don’t think I could ever trust any of them.”
“It’s why we got the files,” Jyra said. “We can identify them.”
“And do what?” Kip said. “The base is full of hostile forces now. How could we target identified spies or even get inside to do it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“My problem is bigger than the current spies,” Kip muttered. “Like I said, it’s an issue of trust. I spent months working on Graze’s salvage team. He trained me, I looked up to him. Do you have any idea what it was like to discover he was an enemy the whole time? I still have nightmares from doing that salvage work, but when I’m awake and remember those days, all I can think of is that traitor.”
“I found out my parents arranged to sell me into service for Tyrorken Fuels,” Jyra said. “Not quite the same as how you see your old boss, but it gave me a turn.”
“While we’re discussing family,” Kip said, “Berk mentioned something about Orastenbounty.” Jyra felt her stomach twist. How long had she had been waiting for this moment? Why had she waited and not faced it sooner? The timing couldn’t be worse. Why did she have to address it now?
“I’m sorry,” Jyra said. “I didn’t know.”
“What are you sorry for?” Kip asked.
“Captain Lyle Deleanor was your brother, wasn’t he?” Jyra said. “We attacked his ship as it fled Tyrorken after a skirmish with Nilcyns.”
“Who did it?” Kip asked.
Jyra fell silent as the circumstances surfaced in her memory. Macnelia had been shot during the siege of Orasten. Neeka, aboard Valiant Conductor II,saw her stricken friend and leader via a body camera and went for the laser cannons. Craig volunteered to stop her, but Jyra discovered the two of them each at a cannon having jointly fired on Orasten.
“The leader of my former resistance,” Jyra said. “The one who locked me in my quarters. Leonick helped me escape the ship. That’s how I got here.”
Kip stood up, taking a deep breath again. He rubbed the back of his head before turning to face Jyra.
He paused to take a deep breath and released it slowly.
“I need some space,” he muttered, casting his eyes to the ground.
“I’m sorry for what happened,” Jyra said, aware that she was already backing away. “I wish I had been able to stop it.”
Reconciliation faced another delay. If he spoke to her again, Kip was going to ask why she hadn’t volunteered the information sooner and Jyra couldn’t think of an answer. Perhaps Kip’s request for space did them both a favor; each needed to consider the consequences of Orasten’sdestruction.
Jyra paused to survey the courtyard on her way to Mastranada. Meriax’s idea of relocating the viable ships to the forest seemed prudent and practical. Jyra thought of returning to see the former spy, but once on board, she decided to visit her own quarters instead. Night was approaching and she needed to prepare for the tribute for the fallen.
Jyra entered the corridor, trying to ignore the lamps blazing behind hanging sheets that formed a sterile barrier. She passed Meriax’s room and knocked on other doors as she moved toward the bow. Rooms were either empty or occupied by convalescing soldiers. When she finally opened a door after no one reacted to her knocking, she saw her duffel and knelt beside it, not even noticing the room around her. It was twice the size of the other crew quarters. A large bed filled an alcove opposite the door. A metal desk sat against the wall to the left and a dresser and wardrobe claimed most of the wall to the right. Jyra examined the furniture, aware it was all well-used but perfectly functional. She heard footsteps and immediately crossed to the door in time to see Berk plugging the passage.
“Serana gave me your duffel to put on board and Leonick and I agreed you deserve this room,” he said. “So that’s where I left it.”
“This is more than I need,” Jyra said.
“You’re welcome, Captain,” Berk said and Jyra felt the feeling drain from her face. “No pressure,” Berk added. “We wanted to let you know that even if you remain on Silanpre, this room will wait for you. People are starting to gather for the ceremony, by the way.”
Berk departed without another word. Jyra leaned against the door for support, her mind buzzing. She knelt by her duffel again and dug through the contents until she found the covered tin of charcoal. Jyra considered it and shook her head.
She pivoted on the floor to the nearby dresser and glanced back at her duffel. She placed a hand on one of the drawer pulls. She felt the cool metal on her fingers and drew them back. This wasn’t the time to make the decision.
Jyra took off her blue shirt and selected a darker one from her duffel. It seemed more appropriate for the ceremony.
Not that the dead care, Jyra thought. She shook her head, registering disbelief at the callous notion. Then she froze.
My mind is mine and I’ve got plenty to fight without attacking myself, Jyra thought.No more useless self-criticism. She left her quarters and noted the darkness behind the suspended sheets stretched across the medical area. Jyra entered the cargo bay and saw the dull glow of dusk settling beyond the open door.
The gathering clustered around a boulder near the bunker. Jyra recognized the towering rock as the one she, Kip, and Meriax had used to explain the purpose of the file heist mission to the soldiers and field teams. Two large portable lamps illuminated the boulder and the light reflected over the whole crowd. It was easy to see the toll of casualties, obvious by their absence. Jyra felt every step upon the rough earth bring her closer and she paused several paces from the edge of the gathering, attempting to steady her ragged breathing.
Her fingers found her mother’s locket. As she wrapped it in her palm, she felt her heart thumping. Serana ascended the boulder using a ladder and Jyra retreated toward the darkness. Only now did she understand her present duty to acknowledge the loss of those who were so palpably missing. As if that wasn’t enough of a challenge, such acknowledgement confirmed the deaths, legitimized them and made them true. Any lingering abstraction of the loss evaporated, leaving Jyra nauseated and short of breath.
Serana gazed down at the gathering with a somber expression, though she nodded and smiled at a few members of the crowd. She glanced toward the bottom of the ladder at one point, and Jyra suspected she was looking for her. Jyra spotted Berk with ease and guessed Leonick stood next to him at the back of the gathering. She recalled Berk’s advice to keep leading, and, fixating on the thought, she started toward the base of the boulder. She had no idea what she should say. She thought of Tony and things she might share, but the ceremony wasn’t just for him. As she circled the crowd to get to the ladder, Jyra suddenly realized she wasn’t aware of Dania’s status or the other nine wounded. She hadn’t met most of the soldiers or field team members before they marched to their deaths. If she had to give a speech, she would have to avoid specifics.
Jyra reached the ladder just as the lights dimmed. Darkness obscured even the faces of those near the front. Serana stared straight ahead and the prerecorded names of each fallen member of the resistance, read by the owner, echoed into the courtyard. A bell tolled between each name. Jyra listened, unaware that she still clutched her mother’s locket. The first time she heard the ritual in the main cavern of the base, the ceremony lasted about two minutes. Jyra made an effort on that occasion to memorize the list, but that wasn’t possible now given the vast number of the dead. Amid the unknown voices, a familiar name rumbled from the speakers. When Serana’s father spoke, his voice was quite unlike the one Jyra remembered. The forcefulness of the delivery hinted at a man both driven and energetic. He spoke his name boldly, unaware that it would be damaged along with the rest of his body in the coming years. Jyra chanced a glance at Serana, but she only inclined her head for a moment to honor her father.
Jyra felt as if something thrashed inside her stomach as the end of the names approached. When she heard his voice, Jyra inhaled; she had been unconsciously holding her breath. For the second time, the recording of Tony announced his death, but now it was true. Jyra leaned against the boulder as she encountered both grief and relief. Dania remained absent from the list, a small comfort after such a confirmation of loss.
Utter silence presided over the courtyard. Most lowered their heads, but Serana kept her unblinking gaze to the south. A breeze tugged on the surrounding conifers, rustling needles and bending limbs. The wind carried the smell of the forest into the courtyard. Clusters of clouds drifted in front of the stars. Jyra looked skyward and saw a planet about the size of her thumbnail. It commanded her attention before a trail of clouds marched in front of it. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed before Serana spoke.
“Thank you everyone. Peace to the fallen.”
She descended the ladder while most of the crowd made for the bunker. Jyra noticed Kip, his hair glowing in the starlight, walking fartherinto the courtyard. When Serana reached the ground, she and Jyra embraced.
“Shall we sit?” Serana asked as they separated. Jyra nodded, aware that her friend looked miserable for the first time that evening. They sat together on a tumbled stone arch.
“Are you a captain now?” Serana asked.
“Berk and Leonick seem to think so,” Jyra said.
“What do you think?” Serana said. She turned to look at Jyra, who found it hard to speak under her friend’s iron gaze.
“I don’t know,” Jyra said. “They moved me into the captain’s quarters on the ship and they want me to take command. I just found out about it half an hour ago. How did you know?”
“When I dropped your duffel off,” Serana said. “You’re considering the offer, though?”
Jyra paused, but any delay made matters worse.
“I’m considering running a recon mission to figure out where that stabilizer came from,” she said.
“After that, which resistance will you return to?” Serana asked.
“I don’t know,” Jyra repeated. “They might be one and the same.”
“What are you talking about?” Serana said.
“During the last mission, Kip and I both saw a Tyrorken Fuels ship land near the fallen complex. TF agents met with Hospital leadership. TF was trying to get one of their employees named Terrence Biggs from Hospital custody. He’d been held on the top floor of the complex in detention.”
“How do you know this?”
“Because we landed right next to a medical ship treating him.”
“But if he was in detention, it seems like TF and the Hospitals are more adversaries than friends.”
“Hard to say,” Jyra said. “Biggs worked in the Employee Compensation office at TF. He also had a wife and daughter on Silanpre. Donors working in the resistance. Crina and Charis.”
Jyra suddenly stood up, the memory of her disastrous meeting with the donors off the main cavern of the base taking over her mind.
“When Crina introduced herself, she mentioned her husband was held by the Hospitals,” Jyra said. “The donors used the mission that retrieved Kip, me, and Tony—” she paused, forced to reflect on the extra time they provided Tony by rescuing him. Serana gestured for her to sit and she draped an arm across Jyra’s shoulders.—“The donors used it as an excuse to complain about captured family members. Some grievances might have been legitimate, but Biggs had connections. I’m sure the files we got will incriminate his wife and daughter as the same sort of filth that infiltrated the resistance.”
Serana shook her head, staring at the dull ground before her.
“Were you there long enough to see if Biggs escaped back to TF?” she asked.
“No,” Jyra said, averting her gaze. “But all they got was his corpse.”
“You killed him?”
Jyra nodded.
“I can’t prove it, but he might have played a part in my brother’s death. The letter I saw that bound me to employment at TF was signed by Biggs.”
“I wish I could see the traffic directive logs,” Serana said. “The botched mission to retrieve you from the Hospitals, the bombing of this bunker, even the Emarand Liberationmission could have been sabotaged by traffic control.”
“We’ll have to dig into the files we have,” Jyra sighed.
“Or forget all of it,” Serana spat bitterly. Jyra glanced at her, unable to tell if she was serious, but her face was set.
“We don’t have the numbers to storm the base and it’s possible not every spy has a file,” Serana said. “All we can do is hope those sympathetic to our cause escape the base on their own. It’s fair to assume the base has been compromised. Attempting to reclaim it threatens the future of the resistance.”
Even as she did all but admit defeat, Jyra saw nothing of her friend’s fierce expression diminish.
“Your dad thought I was fit to fill your post because of my determination,” Jyra said. “Or at least the determination he saw in me. You set the bar high.”
The trace of a smile flickered on Serana’s stoic lips and was gone as soon as it appeared.
As though sensing Jyra’s curiosity, she suddenly spoke.
“Dad converted the first Hospital spies that entered the base. No matter who they threw at us, dad brought them around. The resistance was much smaller then and it was easy to spot newcomers. The first spy that got in and got out provided intel that led to an aggressive bombing campaign that nearly ended the resistance. I think it shook dad’s confidence and showed him he couldn’t win over anyone the Hospitals sent our way.
“Instead, the resistance began screening new members and if they suspected a spy, they kept them isolated. It became easier in the larger base. It kept spies apart and if they escaped, they only had fragmented knowledge.”
“Killing spies would have given away the position of the base?” Jyra asked.
“We were never sure if the Hospital gave spies such tracking,” Serana said.
“I could ask Meriax,” Jyra said.
“If you want,” Serana said. “If she has a tracker, though, the Hospitals would have already bombed us. But we occasionally hacked transmissions from the more idiotic spies and gained useful intelligence.”
“Meriax told me when she first got in, there were as many as fifteen spies in the base.”
“That’s way more than we could control,” Serana said. “I take responsibility for the oversight, but a lot of the attitude comes from the early days when the resistance was smaller than the number we have here.” She gestured at the dark bunker behind her.
“The greater size of the resistance definitely undermined dad’s handling of the spies. I made an effort to pick up the slack, but I was always distracted, trying to make a bigger difference.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” Jyra said. “You did the best with what you had.”
“I could have been more vigilant.”
“Speaking of that, how did you know I wasn’t a spy?” Jyra asked.
“You were Eldred’s prisoner,” Serana said. “We knew enough about her to know she was up to no good.”
“How did you find me?” Jyra asked, thinking back to the dense forest. Serana had emerged from the underbrush undetected and shot Eldred twice.
“We picked up your pod on our scanners and since it couldn’t be identified, we were sure the Hospitals had spotted you, too.”
“Thanks for picking me up,” Jyra said.
“One of the best decisions I’ve made,” Serana said. “Go make me proud.”
“What do you mean?” Jyra said.
“I’ve got a lot of recovery ahead of me,” Serana said. “File sorting and healing are all I’ve got in my future. Go find where the stabilizer came from. I’ve been worried about you leaving to rejoin your former resistance and you’ve felt guilty about it. Put it all aside. As you say, our causes could be united. Find out if it’s true.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Serana said. “Do your job, Captain.”
Jyra stood up and Serana rose with her, but noticeably slower.
“Meriax has sworn to the cause of the resistance,” Jyra said. “I witnessed it. We get a few more spies converted and the fight will be over. She had some ideas about how to conceal our activities here.”
“Dad was right about your determination,” Serana said. “We’ll move the last patients off your ship into the bunker tomorrow. Then you go find some answers.”