A squad of donors stood above her. Jyra saw only their silhouettes, until two stepped into the light. Charis, her thick hair framed a triumphant expression, and Dovens, his best sneer in place, each pointed a gun at Jyra.
“Together?” Charis said with casual indifference.
“On three, Ms. Biggs,” Dovens said, nodding.
Jyra didn’t hear the count, just the gunfire and her eyes snapped open. She gasped for air and sucked in a mouthful of soil. She heard the scurry of feet nearby and the patter of falling dirt. She turned her head and saw two people crouched over piles, the remains of the passage walls. They plunged their hands into the dirt and shook their heads before moving on.
“She’s not here,” one of them whispered.
Several gunshots rang through the passage. Jyra tried to roll onto her side, but she hit an obstruction.
“Fall back!” someone yelled.
Jyra pushed herself up on her elbows and surveyed her arms. So much dust had settled on her, she might as well be part of the wall.
“I’m here!” she called. Jyra choked and spat a clump of mud from her mouth. She yelled again. Beating footsteps were the only reply.
“Too many,” an out-of-breath voice said.
Jyra threw an arm toward the middle of the passage where it promptly met a pair of boots. The owner toppled.
“I’m here!” Jyra repeated.
“Jyra!” Kip’s voice was recognizable even through his disbelief. His hand closed on hers and he pulled her upright.
“I hope you can walk because we have to move. Go ahead of me,” he added to his comrade.
Dust covered Kip’s face and he looked ten years older. He still clutched his rifle and a familiar, though dusty, duffel, which he handed over. His eyes were wild with adrenaline or anxiety, Jyra couldn’t tell which, but she had to run as he pulled her through the passage. She coughed and her knees nearly gave way under the weight of her duffel, but the stale air suddenly disappeared. The confined feeling of the tunnel evaporated.
Only when she felt the tug of the wind against her sleeves did Jyra understand she escaped the base. She dug the gritty soil from her eyes with her fingers and tipped her head back, relishing the tapestry of stars overhead.
She immediately looked at Kip. Despite the dust, she saw his hair glowing in the starlight. He glanced at her then nodded toward the trees. Jyra made for the forest, watching the flowing rivers of mist winding through the valleys.
Kip followed a few steps behind. Jyra tried to stay focused on her footing as she picked her way between boulders. It seemed the donors might ambush them at any moment.
“What happened?” Jyra asked.
“A grenade collapsed part of the passage,” Kip said. “They’ll dig through it soon and continue the pursuit.”
“What about the rest of our team?” Jyra asked.
“All ahead of us,” Kip said. “They should be boarding the ships now.”
They crept over stones and weather-beaten soil. Neither of them could resist glancing behind, waiting to see if a donor squadron would appear. They saw no threat by the time they reached the forest and the trees closed around them. Fallen pine needles softened their footsteps as they began a steep descent through the quiet darkness.
Jyra didn’t dare open her mouth to ask further questions. She adjusted the duffel on her shoulder, thinking of the passages and caverns beneath her feet, wondering if she would ever see them again.
Perhaps the thirtieth time Jyra looked over her shoulder up the slope, she saw beams of light flickering among the boulders.
“They’re on our trail,” Jyra whispered. “At least you can slow them down.”
Kip glanced back and shook his head.
“No ammo on me,” he muttered. “We should be close. I’d hoped to hear—”
He didn’t even finish for the roar of engines below suspended the tranquility. Kip jogged by Jyra.
“Don’t want to miss the transports,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Jyra felt her stomach tighten at the notion of the ships departing before they boarded. She stumbled as a clump of pine needles slid under her boot. The lights above them seemed to be closing in at twice the rate they were traveling.
“There!” Kip hissed, pointing through the trees. The clearing full of ships, the one Jyra had seen when Serana first brought her to the base, was easy to discern straight ahead. The running lights of three ships lit up the night. The moment they stepped into the clearing, a glow in the sky drew Jyra’s attention.
“What’s that?” she yelled above the din.
“Nothing but distraction!” Kip replied, pressing toward the ships.
“In the sky!” Jyra said, aware that Kip hadn’t even looked.
“Here!” he shouted and motioned for Jyra to follow. Dania stood inside an open bay door of an old emergency transport. They couldn’t hear her as she spoke because of the thundering engines, but stepped in beside her just the same.
The bay door retracted and sealed, plunging the hold into relative silence compared to the noise outside.
“Serana and Meriax?” Jyra gasped at once.
“Both on board,” Dania said. “I need to speak to the pilot.” She disappeared into the gloom.
Egress lighting provided the only illumination. The eerie red glow allowed Jyra to see people shifting against the walls, struggling to find comfort. Everyone projected a unique silhouette; unlike a traditional army, each soldier had made their own uniform and armor. Despite the faint light, oiled metal and polished leather flashed as people shifted where they stood.
The floor beneath them lurched. The moment they began to rise, a sporadic clinking noise soared above the engine growl.
“Hopefully they’ve got nothing bigger than that to shoot at us,” Kip grumbled in Jyra’s ear.
She wasn’t sure how long they were airborne before Dania approached.
“Bad news,” she said. Jyra could tell she was trying to keep her voice down. She and Kip leaned closer.
“The squads shot the last ship down as it was taking off. Sounds like seven or eight were aboard.”
Jyra glanced at the cargo hold. At least fifteen people stood around them, perhaps half of the whole team.
“Is there better bad news?” Kip asked, gritting his teeth.
“We intercepted a message from base recalling all field teams for a mandatory meeting,” Dania said.
“Did we lock that frequency?” Kip demanded.
Dania shrugged.
“Find out,” Kip ordered. “If we got it, exclude the base and send our destination on that frequency.”
“What if the base hacks it?” Dania said.
“Doesn’t matter,” Kip said. “We have to save those teams. They’ll be killed back at base and we’re down a ship. We need more bodies. If we can gain the field teams, we’ll have a chance. We’ll keep radar going after we land to make sure nothing surprises us.”
Dania swept away. Jyra coughed. The taste of dirt lingered on her tongue. If they didn’t have the numbers to overthrow the donors after retrieving the information they needed, this campaign was already lost.
Minutes ticked by. Just when Jyra found herself wondering where Dania wound up, she returned, an uncharacteristic smile on her face.
“All field teams rerouted with full manual controls engaged. The base can’t track a single one,” she reported.
Kip sighed and rubbed his forehead against his forearm, which he propped against the wall.
“Where are we going to land?” Jyra asked.
“The bunker where Serana and the other scouts were attacked,” Dania said. “The Northern Intelligence complex is nearby. The ruins should provide adequate space for all the ships to land. We’ll also assemble beyond the border of the complex so we might surprise security forces.”
Jyra wasn’t sure if this news brought relief or stoked her anxiety. What if the Allied Hospitals kept the bunker under surveillance?
Unease and panic kept Jyra preoccupied for the rest of the journey. The noise of the engines faded and the ship rotated as it dropped toward the landing site. It settled with a sharp bump and the door opened. Lights from the ship and others landing nearby revealed a small hill before them. Once covered by a mature forest, nearly all the trees were gone. The damage extended to the earth itself; heavy artillery left massive craters in the ground. Several landslides had already removed great swathes from the slope.
Through the destruction, Jyra saw stone arches and windows, many cracked or caved in from the attack. It didn’t seem like anyone could have survived such an onslaught. Jyra looked behind her at the door to the small medical room were Serana remained unconscious. She spotted a stack of supply crates near the door. Jyra swung her duffel behind them and returned to the exit. She and Kip jumped onto the firm ground. Large flat stones were partially buried and scattered across the earth, perhaps an attempt to make a courtyard for the bunker. Soldiers from other ships were moving toward the ravaged hillside. Jyra and Kip headed in that direction, but paused when they heard a distant rumble. It grew rapidly louder and two ships, much smaller than their transports came into view. Jyra recognized one as a modified stunt skiff.
“Field teams!” Kip yelled nodding ahead. He and Jyra jogged toward the hill to clear the landing area.
By the time they stepped under one of the stone arches, a dozen separate field teams swelled their ranks. The glare of lights illuminated the hillside like a cinema screen. Kip managed to restock his rifle ammo as they passed a newly arrived ship. Dania appeared with Meriax, both ducking to shield against the gusts from landing thrusters.
“Very brave,” Meriax said, surveying the devastated bunker and hill above it. “Why not park your full force together where the enemy has so effectively rained ruin before? Quite sensible.”
She curled her toes on the edge of a protruding stone.
“Don’t step on anything sharp,” Jyra advised, ignoring the sarcasm. “How far is the intel complex?”
Meriax glanced at the stars. Jyra looked up and saw another flash in the sky. Just as it faded a second tumbling object blazed against the galactic backdrop.
“Northwest of here,” Meriax said, pointing.
“Am I the only one who saw that?” Jyra asked.
“Likely strays from the trash ring,” Meriax said.
Jyra didn’t have time to inquire about the trash ring. Agitated murmurs broke out across the courtyard as soldiers and field teams shuffled toward the bunker.
“We need to bring everyone up to speed on the mission,” Kip said. “The field teams make up the majority of our force and none of them have any idea why they’re here.”
They walked toward the gathering. Dania saw a shattered arch leaning against two boulders, knocked to pieces in the attack. The landing lights lit up one of the large rocks and they all made for it. Meriax climbed first, her fingers and toes finding easy purchase on the rough surface. The spectacle of the four figures on the boulder drew the attention of the entire crowd.
“Loyal comrades,” Kip began, doing his best to project his voice, “we are lucky to be joined by Resistance field teams. They are lucky to be here after the base attempted to lure them back to, at best, capture them.”
As Kip spoke, Jyra counted the number of people below and came close to one hundred. The arrival of the field teams considerably boosted their force. The numbers were welcome, but Jyra also noticed many of the field team members weren’t outfitted like the soldiers. Few appeared to wear any armor at all.
“I know some have heard this already, but we need to make sure everyone understands our mission. Donor families and those loyal to them have overthrown our Resistance. The families are a minority and hospital spies another smaller minority within the base. We don’t wish to harm the innocent, but we can’t easily identify them. Our mission is to gain the information to make such a distinction. We stand within striking distance of an Allied Hospital intelligence facility. The complex contains files we’re going to steal and use to weed out traitors. We must act quickly before more of those loyal to the Resistance are discovered in the base and imprisoned or killed.”
“How do we get inside the complex?” someone called from the crowd.
“I know how,” Meriax said. “I was trained there and I know where to go.”
“Seems like quite a lot of folks for one building,” someone muttered near the front.
“We don’t know exactly what we’ll find,” Jyra said, suddenly aware that her message was neither inspiring nor encouraging the group to pursue their cause. “That is, we might encounter a small security team or a larger force. We are gathered on the remains of a Resistance scout bunker the Allied Hospitals attacked. This is a result of their aggression, which could fall upon us at any moment. Uncertainty is best met with superior numbers.”
“You were trained there,” a man gestured at Meriax. He was almost directly below them. “Are you one of them?”
“She’s with us,” Jyra said. “We intercepted the order for field teams to return to base and spared you certain punishment,” she paused, aware she hadn’t discussed any of this with Kip, but as seemed to often happen, they didn’t have time to discuss details. “If anyone doesn’t wish to participate, feel free to stay, but remain here. Do not return to the base. I know many of you have friends there, but let’s acquire the information we need to save the Resistance.”
Jyra glanced at Kip who shrugged and nodded.
“Why are you covered in dirt?” someone else asked.
“Gather your weapons and let’s move out!” Jyra called, ignoring the question. As they descended the boulder, Jyra tapped the pocket above her knee and felt Dario’s dagger within. She pulled it out, emptying clumps of dirt from the pocket. Only then did she consider her appearance. The lights from the ships revealed dust and dirt clinging to her clothes and skin. Jyra rubbed her hair, shaking more soil free, but had to cease grooming when Dania called her name.
Jyra stepped into the bunker. Dania stood several paces down a partially collapsed corridor, holding a light close to one of the walls.
“Is it even safe to be in here?” Jyra asked.
“A locker,” Dania said. “It’s got Serana’s name on it.”
Jyra rushed forward, ducking the sagging ceiling. Sure enough, a small placard on the dented locker door read Makrinn.
“Let’s get them open,” Jyra said. “Keep the name cards with the contents. I’ll get some people to help you.”
Jyra assigned two members of a field team to the task of assisting Dania.
“Take it all to our ship,” Jyra told Dania as the comrades pried the doors free of their hinges.
The landing lights on several ships clicked off. The army moved toward the hillside. As more lights faded into the darkness, Jyra could tell the weapons kept aboard had been generously distributed. Several soldiers seemed to have long pipes strapped to their backs. Jyra asked Kip about them. He smiled and shook his head.
“Hand-held laser cannons,” he said. “Not exactly approved by the Resistance.”
“Who objects to them?” Jyra asked.
“Jarrow,” Kip said. “I hear a couple of those knocked him out of the sky. Might be what the donors used to shoot down that ship of ours.”
Jyra couldn’t suppress the surge of guilt, but she wasn’t about to take issue with the weapons. They needed every advantage.
“We have to meet Meriax at the head of the platoon,” Kip said.
“Right,” Jyra said, finding it difficult to speak.
All the ships powered down and without their lights aglow, they resembled a field of sculpted boulders. The darkness did little to obscure Meriax’s hair; it fluttered in the breeze, contrasting against the mud and fallen trees.
“We’ll get a look at the complex and get our strategy together then,” Kip said. “Typically, the commanders are supposed to know more than those they’re leading.”
They exchanged a sarcastic smile.
“How far?” Kip asked when they reached Meriax.
“Shouldn’t be more than a twenty minute walk,” Meriax said.
“Ready to go?” Jyra asked.
Meriax nodded and started up the slope.
“Onward!” Kip called. Multiple pairs of boots beat dirt and rock as the army hiked up the hill. Murmurs and chatter ceased as they moved beyond the bunker site. Meriax led them into the forest. Underbrush and fallen sticks cracked beneath boots. Aside from that, all Jyra could hear was her own breathing and the wind jostling the leaves above. The trees reminded her of those she first encountered on Silanpre.
Nothing like this forest could have grown on Tyrorken. Indeed, nothing could grow there at all. Jyra couldn’t stop from thinking about when she infiltrated TF headquarters. She remembered hearing her parents die. Based on the objective, the mission was successful, except to her.
Jyra stumbled as her boot struck a decaying log. The physical jerk returned her attention to the forest and the looming task: sending an army to scour a building for information. Their chances for success rested with Meriax. She claimed to know her way around the intel complex. This meant that she could either help them out or lead them into a trap. If the latter, no one would see it coming until it was too late.
Meriax stopped. Kip and Dania paused too, and Jyra nearly walked into Meriax.
“There,” Meriax pointed.
With six floors and hundreds of shining windows, the intel complex was hard to miss. The walls appeared sleek and dark, but it was difficult to discern much more in the middle of the night. Several rows of trees kept the army sheltered as comrades broke rank and moved through the underbrush, seeking the best view of their target. Amber lamps mounted on both the building and rows of poles lit up the grounds. A large landing pad contained four parked ships and a tall fence encircled the complex. Jyra was relieved, knowing the TF headquarters dwarfed the edifice before her.
“Which floor are the files on?” Kip asked.
“Fourth,” Meriax said without hesitation.
“Does each floor serve a specific function?” Jyra asked.
“More or less,” Meriax replied with an unmistakable tone of defiance. “First floor: training. Second floor: intel processing. Third floor: intel interpretation and action. Fourth floor: records. Fifth floor: intel gathering. Sixth floor was always off limits and I never found out its purpose.”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a secret,” Kip said. “Plenty of lights on up there.”
“If that alone tells you what’s happening on that floor, why don’t you just interpret the data from the spy files based on the lights in the windows,” Meriax said. “Think of the trouble and time it will save.”
Kip shot her a contemptuous glance. Jyra would’ve received the same, except she had ducked down, burying her face in her arm to squelch her laughter.
The upbeat moment ended almost as soon as it began. A successive round of deep roars caused Jyra to fall onto her stomach, certain a barrage of explosive ammunition was about to end their lives and campaign.
Almost immediately, she realized they hadn’t been targeted and she opened her eyes. Beyond the trees and against the glowing constellations, Jyra saw a massive airborne object, clouds of smoke billowing in its wake. She heard a collective gasp from the platoon. Missiles, leaving behind their own swathes of sparks and smoke, streaked toward the incoming object. The collision lit up the night. The glare from the fireball penetrated the forest and for a split second, Jyra thought she stared at a sun.
Voices erupted, expressing both shock and curiosity. Jyra got to her feet and approached, Meriax, who seemed transfixed by the explosion.
“The trash ring,” Jyra said. “What is it?”
“The Hospitals launch most of their waste into space. A lot of it doesn’t break orbit and a partial ring has accumulated around Silanpre. A fleet of tugs keeps most of it in space. I don’t know how something that large got away. They catch objects a quarter of that size before they drift toward reentry.”
“There’s another one!” someone shouted. Jyra looked up in time to see another twisted mass of steel plunging toward the planet. Ground artillery fired again, but the missiles soared too high. The object struck the ground, crushing a large portion of the southern security fence around the complex. Then it toppled sideways, flattening even more of the barrier upon the dirt.
Jyra and Kip both looked at each other and gave a brief nod of understanding. Entry point.
“How many to establish a perimeter around the outside the building?” Jyra asked, keen to make sure they didn’t rush into battle with no plan.
“Seven or eight to a side,” Kip said.
“A third of our force stays outside?” Jyra said.
“Whatever is happening will draw more Hospital forces,” Kip said. “Before we would have been lucky to get out alive. Now it will take a miracle.”
Just as he turned to give the order to move on, attention shifted back to the skies where six separate flames spun erratically toward the ground. Another round of missiles launched. Half of the objects disappeared in small explosions. The remaining three seemed to speed up, closing in on the ground with renewed acceleration. Except only one reached the ground. The other two hit the back of the intel complex.
Even from their distance, the sound of shattering glass and clatter of tumbling concrete filled the ears of everyone in the forest.
Kip finally found his resolve.
“Plan,” he shouted. “Set up perimeter around the building. Eight per side. Everyone else, follow her.” He finished by pointing at Meriax.
“What about the falling sky?” someone shouted.
“Keep an eye above you,” Kip said. “Use this distraction to our advantage. Move!”
“Perimeter guard with me!” Jyra recognized the voice and saw Tony rush ahead of the platoon, thirty-one comrades matching his pace.
Jyra questioned her confidence again as they moved from cover. The underbrush dwindled and soon they were jogging down a gentle slope of stubby grass and stunted weeds.
“Incoming!” a voice bellowed and the cry repeated through the platoon. Jyra snapped her attention upward and saw what appeared to be an enormous engine cowl, spinning haphazardly as it fell directly toward them. One rotation seemed to bring it away from the army, but the next turn menaced them again.
“Scatter!” Kip roared. “Break formation, break!”
Air rushing around the cowl produced a sinister hum. It nearly sounded like a whining engine. The last ten seconds of its descent seemed to occur in one. One moment it was airborne; the next, a corner of it stabbed the earth, spitting dirt and stones in all directions. A cloud of dust billowed to life as the rest of the cowl settled with a metallic shriek upon the ground. No one in the platoon moved, except for the perimeter guard that was already well ahead. Jyra saw them making for the portion of crushed border fence.
“Everyone okay?” Kip yelled.
Soldiers called affirmative responses. Kip looked at Jyra and wiped his brow.
“Little more than a distraction,” she said. “A couple more of those take a last-second turn and none of us will walk away.”
Another round of missiles launched. The platoon observed their trajectories, soaring toward the stars. Explosions burst overhead.
“At least the Hospitals are defending us, too,” Kip said. “Move on!” he added with a shout.
They made it all the way down the slope and were nearly in the proximity of the facility lights, when another projectile came into view. It glided swiftly into the complex before Jyra could identify it. The entire top corner of the building closest to the platoon broke loose, sheared from the rest of the structure. Concrete and steel crashed near the base of the complex and Jyra felt the ground shudder.
“Where’s our entrance?” Jyra asked.
“North side,” Meriax said.
“How many people are likely in this building?” Kip said.
“Hard to say,” Meriax said. “I assume its been evacuated.”
“Why are all these objects escaping the tug patrols?” Jyra asked.
“Not sure,” Meriax said. “I’ve never seen a shower like this. A couple strays slip by in a month at the most.”
The flashes amid the stars as detritus succumbed to Silanpre’s gravity reminded Jyra of the night on Drometica when she and Berk stole Mastranada. She remembered watching the Nilcyn ship crash on the plains, the shattered hull consumed by fire. Could a renegade army above be the cause of this disruption? She saw the Nilcyn insignia in her mind and quickly tried to clear it out. She had to be focused. They marched toward an enemy complex, following the perimeter guard. Presently, the guard crossed the damaged barrier and moved into position around the building.
As they approached the fence, Jyra looked north and saw the battery, cannon barrels stretching skyward. She had no idea why she stopped to watch, certain that she couldn’t have seen what was coming. Out of the darkness, a ship appeared roaring toward her, its course traveling directly over the artillery destroying the falling refuse. For a second, Jyra thought she saw one of the cannons swiveling, but none of them fired as the ship swooped upon them, dropping a small explosive into their midst.
The entire platoon fell to the ground as the battery disappeared in a roiling cloud of fire and smoke. The force of the explosion, certainly compounded by the on-site munitions, blew all the glass out of the complex’s windows. The mysterious ship veered toward the ruined bunker. Jyra lost sight of it over the trees while her fingers clutched the earth. She wondered if the Nilcyn insignia branded the ship.
“Move!” Kip roared, struggling to his feet. “While they’re distracted!”
The platoon surged forward, trampling the crushed fence and heading for the north entrance. They had to pass through the rubble; the remains of the crushed upper corner of the complex. Broken concrete and twisted steel covered their path. None of the wreckage indicated what struck the complex in the first place. Kip and Jyra led the charge along the east wall. Kip held his arm out before they rounded the far corner.
“What?” Jyra asked, watching the smoldering battery.
“Never walk around a blind corner,” Kip said.
“You really think this place is being defended?”
“I see no evidence to assume otherwise.”
Jyra gave Kip a skeptical look and brushed past him. She leaned cautiously around the corner and pulled back immediately.
“At least fifty guards!” she whispered. It was suddenly difficult to speak at normal volume.
“Is this a trap?” Kip snarled, aiming his rifle at Meriax.
“Not as far as I can tell,” she said. “The complex seems to be under direct attack. This is where they would make their stand.”
“And you led us right to them!” Kip accused, pushing his weapon forward. Meriax showed no fear.
“As I said, the complex seems to be targeted. The situation has changed since we first witnessed it.”
Kip paused and Jyra was pleased by his silence, especially since Meriax was right. The onslaught of falling trash seemed like a freak occurrence, but a ship bombing Allied Hospital property was an outright attack.
“Any sign of the perimeter team assigned to the north side?” Kip said.
Jyra hadn’t seen them, but could only hope they were on the other side of the building, possessing enough sense to check around the corner before strolling into view. She shook her head. She and Kip took another quick glance at the enemy forces.
The exterior lighting showed an assembled security force wearing gray armor and carrying long rifles.
“If I were them, I’d be jumping in those ships right now,” Jyra muttered, jerking her head toward the transports on the landing pad.
“Our good fortune won’t make that happen,” Kip said. “Even with the field team boost, we can’t attack them.”
“Surprise?” Jyra suggested, but Kip shook his head.
“Too many,” he said. “We can’t get into position to make an attack. We try to form ranks, they’ll see.”
“Any other entrances?” Jyra asked Meriax. “Can we get to this side of the building if we use another door?”
“It will take longer, but there might be a way into the basement,” Meriax said. “It’s an emergency exit, unless they’ve blocked it up.”
“Lead on,” Jyra said, before Kip could protest.
Meriax walked back the way they had come, striding the length of the assembled platoon into the rubble. Beyond her, Jyra saw a thin object falling from the sky. Possessing no significant area to create drag, it seemed to accelerate until it struck the earth. If something at that speed hit the complex, Jyra was certain the entire building would collapse.
She and Kip followed Meriax around the corner. No sooner had they cleared the rubble, a patch of dirt ahead of them shifted. It rose and the dirt slid away to reveal a door opening toward the sky. Five men clambered into the fresh air. They all wore gray uniforms and seemed to be in various throes of agitation, which Jyra was pleased to witness. One of them turned to see the three people who had emerged from around the corner.
“Run, idiots, run now!” he ordered. “We’re under attack!”
“Indeed,” Kip said.
At that moment, the rest of the platoon moved into view. Simultaneously, the man and his fellows realized their delay had cost them a clean escape. Their faces and shoulders fell.
“Check them,” Kip ordered.
Ten soldiers swarmed the agents. They recovered small revolvers but nothing more.
“Convenient,” Kip said, glancing from Meriax to the captives.
“Don’t,” Jyra said quickly, already aware of what Kip was plotting. She stepped forward, fixing him with a defiant stare.
“We can compare their ability to lead us where we need to go, but don’t create competitions between Meriax and these men. It will only invite them to lead us down wrong paths.”
“Fine,” Kip said. “But this will be an interesting test for Meriax. What if she and the men disagree on a route?”
“What I’ll find interesting is if you trust her after we recover the files,” Jyra said. “Stop wasting time.”
“Gentleman,” Kip said, striding forward with open arms. “You have the privilege of assisting us this evening. We’re here to steal spy records located on the fourth floor.”
One of the men choked.
“Step forward,” Meriax said, pointing at him.
The man shuffled several paces past his fellows so the light fell on his face.
“I remember him from the records department,” Meriax said. “He can take us right to the files.”
Two of his fellows lunged forward and seized the records worker. Unfortunately for his assailants, the soldiers who had searched the group were still nearby. Several blows with rifle butts freed the records worker from the assault.
“Are you all right?” Kip asked. The records worker shuffled closer. He had a round face, a small mouth curved in a perpetual frown, and sweat plastered his dark hair against his forehead. He nodded.
“How many people are still in the building?” Kip asked.
“Maybe twenty,” the worker mumbled. “Mostly security.”
“What can you tell us about the forces assembled outside the north entrance?” Jyra said.
The worker fell silent.
“What’s your name?” Jyra said, adopting a softer tone.
“Driggs,” the worker said, speaking to his dusty boots.
“Do you know anything about why they’re there?” Jyra said. “Would any of your companions know?”
Driggs shook his head.
“It’s the main entrance,” he suggested. “We’re being attacked.” He cast a brief glance at the platoon before him and added, “obviously.”
“Too true,” Kip said, clapping Driggs on the shoulder. “And as your attacker, I advise you get us to those records otherwise you meet the same fate.”
Jyra had no time to protest, nor did she predict the muted gunshots. The other four security guards, already dead, fell where they stood.
Jyra saw none of it directly, but she was near enough to feel the impact. Her knees hit the ground or it might have been the floor. She was back in the Tyrorken Fuels’ headquarters.
The crack of the rifles sounded the execution in the memory, she heard the bodies of her parents clatter against the bars of their cells as they slumped to their bloody deaths.
She stared upward and saw Kip standing over her, eyes wild with concern, his hair glittering in the starlight.
“Is she all right?”
”What’s going on?”
Jyra recognized none of the voices. She felt Kip grab her hand and tug her to her feet. He had performed an identical maneuver to retrieve her from the floor of the collapsed passage in the base. This time, however, Jyra felt no warmth or relief from his touch. She pulled her hand free and quickly used both her palms to sweep the hair from her eyes.
“Okay?” Kip asked, peering at her face.
“Yeah,” Jyra lied breezily. “The gunfire hurt my ears…I don’t know. The pain’s gone, but it came out of nowhere…doesn’t matter. We need to move.”
“All right,” Kip said, and clapped her on the shoulder. “Lead on, Driggs.”
The records worker bowed his head and took short paces toward the open hatch.
“How do you intend to remove the records?” Driggs asked.
“Quickly,” Kip said, casting a furtive glance at the sky.
Driggs started down the ladder, shaking his head. The entrance reminded Jyra of the door she used to enter the Resistance base the first time.
Meriax followed Driggs. Kip and Jyra followed her. The narrow corridor at the base of the ladder was cool and dark, but a lamp glowed at the other end of the passage. As they turned into a fully lit hallway, Jyra listened as the rest of the platoon descended the ladder, armor and weapons scraping and clattering against the concrete walls.
Driggs stopped ahead of them for a moment, surveyed the platoon filling the corridor, and kept walking. When she reached the spot where he’d paused, Jyra saw a freight elevator. Had he really considered using it? Jyra suspected it might hold eight people at the most.
Driggs pushed through a door and began climbing stairs beyond it. They trooped after him, winding their way upward.
Another door led to a hallway and then Driggs stepped into an office. Kip and Jyra entered after him and both froze in the doorway. Their corner of the room contained a couple of armchairs and a small reception desk. Aside from that, floor-to-ceiling shelves covered the perimeter of the office. Three additional shelves sat in the middle of the room, creating aisles. Except for an empty row on the bottom of the nearest aisle, the shelves were all full of crisp white folders, arranged like books in a library. Meriax looked between Jyra and Kip’s stationary heads.
“The database,” she said. “A record of every single spy the hospital has trained and deployed.”
Jyra feared Kip might attempt to strangle Meriax. She quickly stepped into the hall and addressed Meriax quietly as the platoon began forming ranks around them.
“You never bothered to mention these were physical files?” Jyra hissed.
“You didn’t ask,” Meriax said. “I thought that was part of the reason so many people came along. A lot to carry.”
Jyra opened her mouth to press Meriax further, but Kip’s yell stopped her.
“What are you doing?”
Meriax and Jyra leapt into the office to see Kip with his rifle aimed at Driggs.
“I…I deactivated the alarm,” Driggs stammered. He was behind the desk, his pudgy hands raised above his head. Kip adjusted his grip on the rifle.
Meriax glanced at the ceiling. Jyra, following her gaze, caught sight of a small red lamp before it turned green.
“It’s fine,” she said. “That’s all he did.”
Driggs stepped sideways and tripped on a phone cord. The receiver and mouthpiece crashed to the carpet. He stooped to pick it up.
“Stop!” Kip roared. “Stop, or I’ll make sure you never move again!” Driggs cooperated, but Jyra noticed he gave another defeated shake of his head.
“You were expecting to retrieve digital content, were you not?” Kip said to Jyra, trying to keep an even tone.
“I was,” Jyra said. “But I never clarified with Meriax. I didn’t ask the right questions.” Jyra could not explain in the moment how she assumed the database would be so similar to the TF pilot gallery on Valiant Conductor II. She even told the donors in the meeting that she intended to hack into the files. The allure of intangible data was easy to imagine and Jyra didn’t consider a planet-wide system of hospitals would use anything besides digital record keeping. But here she stood, the information before her, hiding within itself and far more burdensome to transport. As this all passed through Jyra’s mind, her expression remained fixed and Kip took charge.
“We can discuss it later,” he said. “Right now, we need to figure out how we’re going to get all these out of here before the building comes down.”
“Wait,” Jyra said, suddenly aware that she approached Driggs and glanced behind the desk. The phone lay on the floor. The screen on the receiver flashed the word “alert” over and over again. Jyra leaned down and ripped the cord out of the jack.
“You tried to warn us,” Jyra said, watching the sweat gather on Driggs’ brow. “And you still chose not to speak up.” Jyra turned to walk away, but anger locked her stride. She pivoted, intending to shove Driggs against the wall. Instead, she punched him through it and he collided with a metal air duct. The body toppled down the open utility shaft, leaving a large patch of blood upon the crumpled duct.
“Secure the hallway,” Jyra ordered, survival instincts shutting out what she had done to Driggs. “Cover the elevators and stairs.”
“What is going on?” Kip demanded, coming to her side. He saw the phone and ran a hand through his hair, shaking free more dust. They heard Meriax repeating Jyra’s orders to the platoon.
“They’re all inside by now,” Jyra said.
“That entire security team,” Kip nodded. “Of course they have redundant alarm systems in an office like this.”
“We outnumber them,” Jyra said, seeking comfort amid waning hope.
“Not by much,” Kip said.
At that moment, the lights went out.
Several comrades yelled in surprise. Flashlights clicked on throughout the platoon while Kip and Jyra moved into the hall. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath and the reason was obvious: the tromp of boots from below was clearly audible in their silence.
Jyra caught sight of Meriax’s hair in the gloom and beckoned her.
“Do we have every entrance covered?” she asked.
“Stairs at both ends of the corridor and the freight elevator are all I know about,” Meriax said.
Half the platoon jumped when a loud bang echoed through the corridor.
“Security!” a voice bellowed. It came from the nearer stairwell. “Open the door now! This building could collapse at any moment!”
All eyes of the platoon shifted to Kip who held up a fist to maintain silence.
“They don’t know all of us are here!” he whispered. “We could surprise them.”
“How?” Jyra asked.
The door shuddered with two heavy thuds.
“Kick the door down and throw a grenade into the stairwell.”
Jyra looked between the two files of comrades. Flashlight beams reflecting off the walls illuminated the door. She proceeded down the hallway and felt Kip following.
“One more chance!” the voice of the security team threatened. “Open up now, or we come in shooting!”
Jyra stopped in front of the door and turned to see Kip, holding the explosive. He nodded. She faced the door, but became aware of the entire platoon watching her. Nerves sapped her strength. The hesitation lengthened and the muffled sound of clicking weapons came from the stairwell.
A sudden burst of gunfire stole everyone’s attention, especially because it didn’t come from the other side of the door. Lights flashed through shattered exterior office windows and into the hall. Jyra took advantage of the distraction. She placed her hands against the cold steel and pushed. A crease leapt across the width of the door. Jyra released pressure and then gave an intentional shove. The door hit the opposite wall of the landing, crushing two men in an instant. Kip and Jyra leapt back as the grenade ricocheted off the ceiling and toppled into the security team, whose members were trying to assess what happened to the door and the men attempting to open it.
The explosion filled the doorway moments later. Several comrades were moving toward the windows, curious about the shots outside. Jyra was about to follow them, but the roar of a drill followed immediately by the scream of shrieking metal redirected the entire platoon. Enemies occupied the other stairwell and they hadn’t bothered to knock.
Jyra considered repeating what she and Kip just did, but there was no time. A massive drill bit tore into view, ripping the platoon-applied instant weld apart and, indeed, boring out the entire latch. The door swung open. Comrades nearest to the perimeter breach were already assembled and fired into the darkness. Cries of pain and surprise rose between rounds. The security team managed to form up on one side of the door and returned fire. Wounded comrades attempted to retreat while others stepped forward, but the entire platoon was vulnerable in the narrow hallway.
“Use something bigger than bullets!” Kip shouted.
Jyra pressed her back against the wall. She saw the shape of a large comrade fall, a long barrel toppling with him. For a moment, all she felt was fear for the wounded comrades and, quite likely, those who were already killed. A brief opening in the ranks allowed her to see toward the front and she glimpsed the long barrel again. She had no time to react. The red laser bathed the hallway in a sharp crimson glow. It vanished as soon as it appeared, but the resulting explosion lit the hallway again, this time with a prolonged flash of white and orange.
The entire building quaked. The door and frame, crippled and misshapen, tumbled toward the platoon, skidding to a halt at the front line. All the lamps and interior windows shattered. Great cracks immediately opened in the walls. The shockwave, roar, and heat of the laser impact knocked Jyra off her feet.
Clouds of dust and smoke galloped across the ceiling. Jyra blinked and felt powdered mortar and concrete falling on her cheeks like rain. The sensation reminded her of the dust storms on Tyrorken when the ground took flight. The planet is gone, Jyra told herself. She placed a hand against the nearby wall, forcing herself to stand. Most of the platoon remained on the floor. Several flashlight beams lit up the noxious cloud on the ceiling that coiled lower and lower, threatening to envelope motionless comrades.
The first sign of movement Jyra noticed was near the outside wall. The comrades investigating the mysterious gunfire had crouched to protect themselves but now they crept toward the window again. Jyra made her way to their side.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There’s a ship out there,” one of them said. “It passed by and our guards shot at it.”
“Find a way back to the ground and get the perimeter guard up here,” Jyra said. “We need every hand to help the wounded. Keep an eye out for security.”
The two comrades nodded and departed. Jyra nearly followed them but paused when she caught sight of movement outside the window. She coughed and realized the chill of the night coaxed the warm air through the shattered windows, surrounding her in smoke and dust. She leaned through the empty frame to identify the motion she saw before and disbelief paralyzed her. She must have stepped into a bizarre dream. Jyra turned to make sure she wasn’t unconscious on the floor. Kip was on his feet and he caught her eye but she turned back to the approaching ship, a ship she knew.
It drew closer, the thrum of its engines cutting into the eerie silence. Jyra remained transfixed at the window. The bow of the ship glided past and the sleek hull slid by, all but commanding Jyra to extend her arm and touch the steel. Abruptly it stopped and Jyra automatically stepped back and drew her brother’s dagger.
The cargo bay door suddenly opened, spilling white light through the window and into the hall. A hulking shape came into view and Jyra caught sight of a raised shotgun. The dagger fell to her side. Barlen appeared first, his silhouette obscured by the large, shotgun-wielding man behind him.
“Why are you covered in dirt?” Berk asked.