Kay grimaced, almost baring his canines like a cornered animal. “Fine,” he growled, and then he whispered something into the Shadow’s ear. The Shadow nodded and turned to the terminal, and a second later, the lights in both tunnels were blazing.
“Let’s give ’em hell!” Kira said, and the squad followed her command.
Using every inch of the tower’s real estate, including a pair of support beams that jutted out from both sides, each member of the seven-person squad carved out enough cover to protect themselves and fire back at the approaching gunners. The roles had been reversed; not expecting to be exposed by the tunnel’s light, the gunners were now the ones scrambling for their lives. The only way to permanently down a gunner was a shot to its AI module, located on its wrist. It was a one-in-a-million shot from this distance, but a solid hit to its chest, even protected by its armor, was sure to knock a gunner clean off its feet. Which was Kira’s exact strategy. Switching her whipblaster to a single-barrel blast, she set her sights on the chest of her enemy. If she couldn’t stop them, at least she’d slow them down.
“Better hurry up with that!” Kay yelled to the Shadow, who was busying his fingers over the keypad at a dizzying clip. He intoned something by way of reply, though Kira was clueless to its meaning.
“You fluent in weirdo?” she asked Kay. “Was that sound an affirmative or what?”
“No idea, and since the Shadow’s handler is currently bleeding out of his skull, we’re gonna just have to hope for the best,” Kay said.
As Kira turned to continue her assault on the gunners, she saw another one of Kay’s soldiers fall. She was propelled back off her feet by a blast to her upper body, and before she could recover, another blast struck her near where the first had landed. The soldier dropped to the cold metal ground with a lifeless thud. Anger tightened Kira’s jaw, and when she twisted back around, she spotted a gunner with a plasma detonator in his hand.
“I don’t think so.” Without wasting a moment, Kira activated the second barrel of her whipblaster and directed all fire toward the gunner. Catching him in mid-throw, she riddled his armor with one blast after another. The sheer force of the assault sent the gunner spiraling back. As the detonator rolled away from him, Kira waited, anxiously, to see if it’d been activated.
It had.
A plume of orange death rocked half the tunnel, erupting flames up to the ceiling and, more importantly, engulfing three gunners in its fiery tomb. Their armor was made to withstand a great many things, Kira knew all too well, but she was certain incineration wasn’t one of them.
“I’m impressed,” Kay said, half a grin appearing on his face.
“I don’t care,” Kira snapped.
Kira peeked over the partition that acted as her cover but withdrew when she saw the Shadow stand up and start walking away from the station. His long legs brought his height to a good seven feet, and his double-jointed knees gave him the most awkward of gaits. He again intoned something indecipherable at Kay as he went on his way.
“Should I even ask?” Kira questioned Kay, who could only shrug. A blaster bolt raced between them; it led Kira’s attention down the other tunnel, where she saw another squad of gunners coming on fast.
“Damn it, we’ve got more company!” Kay yelled.
Kira moved to repel the gunners remaining on the other side, and Kay called for Gunk to check the Shadow’s work.
“I—yes?” Gunk said as he studied the terminal. “It looks properly broken to me.”
“Good enough,” Kay said. “Gunk, Sen and I will get you cover; lead everyone out on my command.” He turned to Kira. “How are you doing on charges?”
“Last one,” Kira said as she slammed a fresh reload into her whipblaster.
“Make it count. Spray the incoming gunners. I’ll hold the ones on the other side. Good?”
Kira nodded. She didn’t like taking orders from Kay, but it was the exact call she would have made, and there was no time for grandstanding.
“All right, everyone out!” Kay commanded, and Gunk led the four remaining soldiers back toward the exit. “And hold that elevator!”
The fresh batch of gunners was just getting in range as Gunk took off, but they were met by an erratic storm of blaster fire courtesy of Kira. It was enough to send them scrambling, but Kira, with the whipblaster going full tilt, knew her ammo wouldn’t last much longer.
“If we plan on getting out of here, it’s gotta be now!” she yelled to Kay.
Kay didn’t say anything, and Kira could sense him focusing on his squad as he fired at any gunner who dared pop their head out while the escape was happening. “Okay, they’re safe at the elevator. Let’s go!”
Kira bounced up and continued to spray fire; she’d make every single bolt she had count, and when those ran out, she’d find another way to fight. Praxis wasn’t going to kill her that easily.
Killing Kay, though, was apparently less of a challenge.
They’d barely made it ten steps when a bolt from somewhere lanced Kay’s thigh. The blow dropped him down to one knee, but it did nothing to stymie his fight. Kira was impressed by his ability to take a shot and hardly skip a beat. He kept on firing, keeping the encroaching gunners back as best as he could.
“Go!” he snarled at Kira. “I’ll hold them back!”
At Kay’s command, Kira pulled the trigger on her whipblaster for the final time. She was fresh out of ammo, standing completely exposed as enemies pressed her on both sides. The sensible thing would have been to follow Kay’s command and run. To save herself. But sensible actions, particularly the kind that came at the expense of others, weren’t something Kira could abide.
“Give me this,” Kira said, snatching Kay’s tri-blaster from his hands. “And come on.”
“Sen, get out of here!” Kay protested. “That’s an order!”
“Oh, shut up. I’m not in your army,” Kira said, firing at whichever gunner came closest as she helped support a hobbled Kay. As they inched their way toward the elevator, blaster fire suddenly shot out from behind them; Kira turned her head just enough to see Gunk and the others firing back at the gunners, enough to keep them at bay. They reached the elevator, and everyone kept shooting until the doors closed. The exterior was pounded by the gunners’ assault until, at last, the elevator climbed out of range.
“Up top is likely to be even worse,” Kay said as he accepted his blaster back from Kira. “We can find cover between the buildings, but it won’t take long for the Praxian forces to swarm on our position.”
“I’m not planning my funeral just yet,” Kira said as she took the comms unit from her pocket.
“I hope you have an army up there,” Kay said.
“No,” Kira said, exhaling a deep breath. “But hopefully we won’t need one.”
She flipped open the line for the comms and raised 4-Qel. “How’s it looking up there?” she asked.
“They’re adequately reinforced—and by ‘adequately,’ I mean excessively. Very excessively. Who knew they had this many drones?”
It was the exact report Kira didn’t want to hear. She sighed, trying to conjure a plan out of thin air.
“But don’t worry,” 4-Qel said. “We’re incoming.”
Kira and Kay exchanged curious looks; 4-Qel’s statement was hard to fully comprehend.
“What do you mean ‘incoming’?” Kira asked. “Are you in a ship?”
“Hey, we’ve been busy while you were storming the city,” Mig chimed in, the happy satisfaction evident in his voice. “Prepare for evac. I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to miss us.”
No one said a word. There was nothing to say. Everyone, save the Shadow, refreshed their charges. Kira drew her sidewinder and sighed wistfully. She missed her whipblaster, especially since there was a drone army waiting for her on the surface. Ragtag bands of rebels didn’t win battles against armies; they survived them, and that’s all Kira hoped to do. It just would have been easier to do that with a weapon that was able to kil
l so many, so fast.
“Do you think they’re going to start shooting right away?” Gunk asked. “Or maybe do that thing where they tell us to surrender first?”
No one answered.
“Right. Probably the former then.”
The car was silent until the elevator dinged to mark their arrival. The doors slid open, and Kira’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of how many drones were waiting for them. Sentries and alphas were to be expected, but Praxis had also spared no expense and called in their big guns as well—breaker drones, oversized units that hulked head and shoulders above the rest and packed the kind of heavy artillery that was made for those times you just had to kill en masse. They were going to be especially tricky to put down.
The drones’ formation created an impenetrable shell around the building’s exterior. Shoulder to shoulder they stood, countless rows deep, blasters at the ready. Given the conditions—Kira and her group pinned down with little ammunition and nowhere to go—these drones weren’t an army; they were an execution squad.
“Holy sh—”
But Kira didn’t even have time to get her stunned reaction out before cannon fire tore through the sky and rocked the ground directly in front of the building. Kira couldn’t tell what exactly had been fired, but she felt its impact from her feet all the way to her hair. But the drones felt it even more. Sentries and alphas blew apart in every direction—arms, legs, heads, nuts and bolts, everything they were made of erupted in an ashen plume that sent those parts skyward. The irreparable drones then rained back down, landing with a thud against the smoldering surface.
Neither Kira nor Kay wasted a moment mobilizing their followers. They darted out of the elevator—with Gunk shouldering Kay’s weight—and toward the shattered exterior, wagering high that their pickup would arrive any moment. The remaining drones had paused, reconciling whether their core directive of protecting themselves overrode whatever their primary objective had been. It didn’t. The drones resumed their objective, which was unmistakably to not let the individuals who’d infiltrated the financial core live. Kira and the others were ready, though, firing whatever they had at the drones as they neared the exit.
Even with their numbers thinned, the remaining drones were way more than Kira, Kay, and the rest could handle. Fortunately, they didn’t have to. Just as the drones were about to open fire and shred their targets, a ship swooped down from the sky, firing into the crowd of drones as it came. The ship—a black-and-maroon oblong vessel with a single massive thruster at its rear—vectored to the ground hard and fast, jolting to a stop just inches from the surface. Once steady, it spun 180 degrees and fired maximum burn to its thruster. Every drone within striking distance, even the breakers, was propelled clean off its feet and sent soaring backward.
“How in the world did your men secure an officer transport, Sen?” Kay yelled as they ran toward the ship’s boarding ramp.
Kira shook her head, amused. “No idea. But I’m sure there’s a colorful story that explains it.”
Kobe greeted them inside the ship, eager to get the ramp back up so they could extricate themselves from this war zone.
“That everyone?” Kobe asked.
Kira nodded, and as the ship rose, Kobe pressed the button to bring in the ramp. It had barely closed halfway when blaster bolts began scoring its shielded exterior, causing the transport to buck, but only a little.
“I see you’ve made some friends,” Kobe observed.
Kira looked at the group behind her, particularly Kay, and huffed. “We’ll see,” she said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Kira was leading Kobe out of the hold when Kay called her name. She stopped but didn’t look back.
“You won’t get far,” Kay said. “Praxis has this entire city under strict patrol with Intruders and transports like this one. If they raise you and you don’t respond with the correct clearance, we all die.”
Kira finally turned and shot Kay a deadly glare. “And I assume you have the correct clearance.”
“No, I do not. But I know their patrols well enough to get around them and get us someplace safe.”
“That’d be a great offer if we were working under the assumption that I trusted you,” Kira said. “But I don’t.”
Kay pushed off Gunk with a wince and limped toward Kira. “I’m not going to die over something that took place over a decade ago,” he snarled. “Now, you listen to me—I’ve shown perfectly well what I’m doing here. What about you, Sen? Why are you here? Let me guess. Exacting some payback against dear old Dad? If that’s the case, then you’re going to have to take a number and get in line. And that line starts with me.”
“I’m not here for Ebik.”
“This is the last time I extend my hand,” Kay said, nearly choking on his agitation. “What’s it going to be? We either work together or you let us out of this ship right now.”
Kira broke her stare with Kay and looked to Kobe. He met her hard gaze with a shrug.
“We have no idea where to find shelter, and this ship isn’t even equipped to break the planet’s atmosphere.”
Kira had to fight to prevent her posture from slumping. Nothing in her mission had gone according to plan, and now she was being forced to cooperate with her father’s right-hand man—the man who’d been trained and groomed by Ebik himself. The man who’d helped strip her mother of her role as Baron, imprison her, and leave Kira open to be discarded by her father.
“We’ll work together under the condition of getting us both to safety,” Kira said. “But that’s where this alliance ends.”
Kay nodded, then sat down on one of the chairs that folded out from the hold’s wall. His leg was evidently still troubling him, and begrudgingly, Kira decided she’d provide whatever medical aid the ship had to offer.
“Gunk will navigate your pilot to our base,” Kay said. “But under one condition.”
“The condition is we don’t drop you back off where we found you,” Kira snapped.
“No, you wouldn’t do that—not when you think there’s a chance we can be useful to you. And I can tell by the look in your eye that’s exactly what you’re trying to determine,” Kay said. “So, while you figure that out, I want to know something. Why are you here? Why return to the planet you escaped so many years ago?”
Kira stood tall in the frame of the door’s exit, the reminder of her mission rallying her strength.
“I’m here for my mother,” Kira said. “I’m going to rescue her.”
Kay looked at Kira, unblinking, then leaned his head against the hold’s wall and started to laugh.
“Kay, you either explain to me what’s so funny, or I will drop you where I found you—except now, I won’t give you the courtesy of lowering to the ground first.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kay said, stifling his outburst. “But that’s truly why you’re here?”
Kira took an aggressive step toward Kay, hand on her sidewinder. She felt his squad mirror her movement. “Do you know where she is? Because if you get in my way—”
“Do I know where she is?” Kay said, incredulous. “Sen, who do you think is leading this uprising?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Darkness.
Then, like a flint striking steel, a spark of light.
This world, wherever it was, whatever it was, existed in varying shades of gray and black. The sky resembled a sheen of soot, smeared across the atmosphere and choking the life out of any light that even attempted to break through. Cade’s trembling eyes danced around, trying to discern any hint of shape or form that might define this place. But the ashen fog extended like a curtain to obscure any and all features down to the horizon line—assuming there was a horizon. Beneath his feet, the ground was obsidian stone, smooth and layered like it’d been polished by a long-forgotten tide. And Cade was compelled by a powerful external force unknown to him to follow a path on its upward rise. Step by step he climbed, somehow feeling like he was descending and not th
e opposite, unable to see more than a few inches ahead of himself. He reached out with an apprehensive hand, trying to push away the darkness that obscured his vision, but the gloom persisted.
Slowly, one cautious step in front of the other, Cade continued until wisps of murky smoke plumed just ahead. Effervescent colors burst and rained down deep hues of red, green, and indigo. And as the colors spread, they cast enough light for Cade to discern the outlines of three shadowy shapes—human, almost, but too ethereal to be understood as flesh and bone. Cade halted, unable to draw any closer.
With Cade frozen in place, the shapes began to chant in a language he had never encountered before. The pitch of their voices and the cadence of their words rang sharply in Cade’s mind; he winced and covered his ears, but it did no good. The echoing melody still penetrated into his brain, piercing it like daggers.
Cade didn’t know what he was being forced to watch, but he knew his purpose: to bear witness. But Cade knew whatever message was being conveyed was wrong; it felt like a virus burying itself deep within his very core. Twisting it, squeezing it, spreading its darkness within. Cade let out a soundless scream, and as he did, the three figures began to change right before his eyes.
Among the three spectral shapes stepped another figure—this one more human but also more menacing, and Cade shuddered as a jolt of cold spread throughout his body. The figure was wrapped in all black, and from Cade’s vantage, it seemed formless until it started to change. It was his vision all over again, the one he’d slipped into in the Kundarian trade ship. Horns like horrible, knotted tree roots twisted out of the shape’s head, curving and gnashing their way forth. As the demented crown took shape, the chanting intensified, growing faster and louder. Cade’s knees would have buckled beneath him if they weren’t so firmly paralyzed. The shapes’ voices—if Cade could call them voices—and the subtle noise made by the spawning horns were so otherworldly that he could hardly take it. He could only stand where he was, gripping his ears, as the shapes began to sweep their arms across the mist. As they did, the ashen air cleared, and the formless figure came into view. Similarly, the specters’ chanting took on a more recognizable pitch, though Cade didn’t need to hear their words to know who he was looking at.
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