“Where?” Jyra asked.
“I discovered it when I worked at TF with Macnelia,” Neeka
said.
“What are you talking about?” Shandra said, taken aback by
the urgency.
“I saw a code broadcast by the Nilcyn fleet and I knew I’d
seen it before,” Neeka said. “I didn’t remember I’d first seen it at TF until
just now.”
“Why would the Nilcyns be sending—?” The three registered
the idea before Shandra could finish speaking it.
They stood in silence, which was broken only by the fading
noise of the launch thrusters as they spun to a stop.
“Berk and I saw the fleet as they approached Tyrorken,” Jyra
said, after taking several breaths. “They were moving into an attack formation.
That doesn’t make sense if they’re in league with TF. There’s nothing worth
targeting.”
“I need to see if the computer’s calibrated,” Neeka said.
“We’ll know more once I can hack into their system again.”
They set off for the cockpit. All desire to step back on her
planet vanished from Jyra’s focus. How could the Nilcyns be connected to TF?
From Jyra’s perspective, no entity could be worse than the evil enterprise that
threatened Tyrorken. If TF had command of the Nilcyns, a renegade fleet of
space pirates, Jyra cast aside any lingering doubts toward dropping the bomb.
When the three reached the cockpit, they found everyone else
clustered inside, checking monitors or surveying the arid landscape through the
glass.
Neeka pushed passed Leonick and Craig, making for Berk’s
usual seat. Shandra entered ahead of Jyra, who remained in the doorway and
called over the murmuring and commotion.
“Neeka’s made a discovery. Based on a code she saw
transmitted by the Nilcyns, it appears as though they may be working in
alliance with TF,” Jyra announced.
Berk and Macnelia, now displaced from the console as Neeka
took the chair, gathered behind her to watch.
“What do you mean?” Macnelia said, addressing no one in
particular.
“When we were programming the radar,” Neeka said in a rush,
her eyes locked onto the screen as her fingers flashed over the keyboard,
intuitively striking keys to begin searching for enemy transmissions. “I don’t
know how I found this code, but I never forget about it because to this day I
haven’t solved it.”
At that moment, Neeka sat back, shaking her head. The
monitor showed the computer didn’t detect any frequencies.
“There is too much interference,” Leonick said. “The
pollution levels will weaken any signal and if the Nilcyns are communicating
with the headquarters for Tyrorken Fuels, they are close enough to do so over
impenetrable networks. That is based on my assumption that they are on good
terms.”
“Is there anything we can find out while we’re sitting
here?” Craig said. “Do we have any of the blueprints handy to plan a rescue
mission?”
“Things are different,” Macnelia said, pushing her hair
back. Jyra noticed she still looked rather haggard. “I don’t think anyone
thought there’d be a Nilcyn fleet nearby during our operations.”
Macnelia paused, frowning and furrowing her brow. Everyone
waited in silence. Neeka turned away from the monitor, fixing Macnelia with a
pleading look.
“We should fly closer and eyeball the strike zone. We’ll
keep low to the surface and hopefully stay off enemy radar,” Macnelia said.
“Pilots, take us in as close as you think is safe. Everyone else, to the cargo
bay to prepare our gear.”
Jyra started the launch thrusters as she sat down. Neeka
left her chair looking dejected, and Berk settled into it.
“Wouldn’t it be great if TF and the Nilcyns destroyed each
other?” he sighed.
“Maybe if Derek wasn’t held prisoner in the complex right
now,” Jyra said.
“Just being hypothetical,” Berk said. “Let’s go see the real
thing.”
Mastranada leapt
off the cracked earth and began flying east. The dust that collected on the
cockpit glass when the ship was parked thankfully blew away. As they climbed
over a line of dunes, Berk grunted as he glanced at his monitor.
“I got the slightest radar read,” he said. “It just flashed
in and out.”
“We can climb a little higher,” Jyra said. “Maybe we’ll get
a stronger signal.”
Berk adjusted the engines and the ground shrank away as they
ascended. The natural light faded as the haze surrounded the ship, but Berk
leveled off.
“Got it,” he said. Jyra saw him staring at the screen, his
brow furrowed like Macnelia’s. “I think,” he added.
Jyra crossed to check his monitor and felt as confused as
Berk. The radar showed Tyrorken and the Nilcyn fleet in space above the planet,
but the ships were scattering.
“There are other ships,” Jyra said, surprised both to see
the number of additional active spacecraft around the Nilcyns. Berk nodded.
“They’re fighting,” he said. Jyra leaned in and saw the
digital rendering of a battleship disappear as its steel counterpart was
destroyed.
“Looks like the battle started without us,” Berk said.
*
“What do you mean?” Macnelia said.
“From the radar readout, it looks like the Nilcyns are
fighting above the TF complex,” Jyra said, leaning on a crate in the cargo bay.
Berk remained in the cockpit, but had insisted Macnelia be told about the
battle immediately.
“TF is all that could be sending up a defensive force,”
Craig said, speaking from the floor where he had surrounded himself with plans
of the complex. “Nothing else has the resources.”
“Understood,” Macnelia said. “New plan. Land as close as we
can to TF without raising suspicion. Craig, keep working on those plans. We’ll
need to get in and out with Derek as quick as possible.”
Jyra nodded and ran back to the cockpit. Berk brought the
ship low to the ground again.
“We’ve passed a couple of pit mines,” he said. “What’s the
word?”
“Bring the ship in as close to TF as we can without being
fired upon.”
“At least that’s specific,” Berk said.
“We’ll be there soon if you’ve seen the mines.”
“Hard to miss. They’re enormous.”
“Climb!” Jyra cried.
Berk angled the engines and ship pulled up, barely clearing
the top of a rig tower.
“I’ll watch for those now,” he said.
The haze became thicker and Berk took Mastranada higher. Once they were above the smog, Jyra looked ahead
and saw the TF complex, a looming steel and glass structure. She had always thought
it resembled a fearsome reptile because the main entrance had been cantilevered
over the parking lot. Jyra used to imagine the floors over the main doors would
come crashing down like a jaw and eat the vehicles and people underneath it.
The building extended back from the parking lot and had been constructed around
existing machinery so it was narrow and curved. The glass exterior reflected
the sky, creating a brown sheen like scales to complete the reptilian image in
Jyra’s mind.
Despite the perpetual cover of the sullied clouds, they
weren’t thick enough to hide the light from the explosions above them. Berk
checked battle on the radar screen.
“Lost some more ships,” he said.
“We should get out of the haze and start looking for places
to land,” Jyra said. They were closing fast on the TF complex. Mastranada aimed toward the ground and
nothing could be seen out of the cockpit for a few moments. As they dropped out
of the haze, Berk had to negotiate a hasty pull-up again as the roofs of
buildings appeared before them. Jyra spotted the perimeter wall that circled
the TF campus.
“It’d be nice to land inside of that,” she said.
“Risky, though,” Berk pointed out. “TF is under attack and
if they weren’t prepared for it, they’ll be scrambling, which bodes well for
us. Or, they were ready, which means we might be targeted immediately.”
“Let’s fly beyond the wall and see what happens,” Jyra
suggested.
Mastranada soared
onward and entered TF airspace. Jyra watched as they passed between vast
storage tanks and abandoned pressurized steam systems. They made a sharp turn
and headed back the way they came. Jyra stared at the massive complex,
searching for guards or laser cannons.
“How about we land between those tanks?” Berk said, pointing
at the round vats ahead of them.
“All right,” Jyra said. She wasn’t sure what she had been
expecting, but the seeming lack of activity at the complex put her on edge. The
launch thrusters engaged and Mastranada
landed on the gravel, relatively concealed by the fuel storage tanks. Jyra got
to her feet, which felt heavier than usual. She walked out of the cockpit ahead
of Berk and reached the cargo bay sooner than she expected.
Macnelia had changed and now wore ankle-high boots, dark
brown dungarees, and a long-sleeve black shirt. She had tied her hair back and
strapped a wide belt around her waist.
“We get a good spot?” Macnelia asked when Jyra and Berk
stepped into the room around a large crate.
“You can knock on the backdoor if you like,” Berk said.
“I’ll let the bomb do that later,” Macnelia said.
“It’s strange,” Jyra said. “There’s no sign of anyone. We
weren’t fired upon or anything.”
Macnelia considered this information, but after a moment
clapped her hands.
“Well, we should take advantage of that. Come get your
gear.”
Jyra walked around the main pile of crates and saw the floor
covered in supplies for the rescue mission. A number of thin topcoats, all
identically dyed to mimic the hue of the haze outside, were stacked in a pile.
Berk strode forward and retrieved his shotgun from the collection of guns that
had been laid out. Coils of rope, some tied to grappling hooks, were displayed
against the wall.
Craig still sat on the floor drawing on the blueprints
before him, his tongue between his teeth.
“Where’s everyone else?” Jyra said.
“In their rooms getting ready,” Macnelia said. “Except
Leonick and Neeka. They’re staying aboard.”
“They are?” Jyra said, surprised. She assumed Neeka would
want to come help rescue Derek.
“Neither of them believes they would be much help in a
fight. Anyway, we need to keep the ship protected and we won’t get far without com
equipment operators.”
“Com equipment?” Jyra was beginning to wonder whether she
should be participating in the mission, given how little she seemed to know
about it.
“Leonick’s calibrating the earpieces right now,” Macnelia
explained. “He’ll make sure the channel stays private so we can all talk to
each other when we’re inside. Neeka’s going to see if she can hack into
anything that might be helpful. Maybe she’ll deactivate the locks on all
detention wings.”
“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky,” Berk said, before
taking a hearty swig from his flask.
“Neither do I,” Macnelia said grimly. “You both better
change. Wear the heaviest clothes you have. Meet back here in three minutes and
bring your badges.”
Jyra went to her room and pulled out a pair of trousers she
used to wear to work. They were covered in patches where sparks from welding
had damaged them. She slipped them on and fastened the button, realizing her
hands were shaking. In the bottom of the duffel, Jyra found a gray button-up
shirt and suddenly remembered it used to be Dario’s. She crumpled it briefly in
her fists and felt the fearful tremors subside. The buttons on the shirt didn’t
challenge her fingers at all. The badge lay on the floor beside her duffel.
Jyra stepped into her boots, retied them, and grabbed the badge before leaving
her quarters.
“Excellent,” Macnelia said, smiling. Jyra could tell she was
nervous, too; the smile showed signs of strain around the edges. Macnelia knelt
by the topcoats and pulled one out that looked to be the correct size. Jyra
threw it over her shoulders. It was much lighter than the fur coat she wore in
the mountains. She noticed Craig had left, presumably to prepare like the
others.
“More for disguise than anything,” Macnelia said, admiring
the way the coat hung on Jyra. She took the badge and used a couple pins to fix
it near Jyra’s lapel. “All you need now is a weapon and the route you’ll take.”
She spoke as though Jyra were heading off for another day of work at the
garage.
Jyra selected the same handgun she had worn on the missions
from the mountains. She strapped the holster around her hip and turned toward
the door from the main passage as voices heralded the return of the others.
Shandra appeared first, clad in black shoes, the same kind of dungarees
Macnelia wore, and a dark blue shirt. Half a dozen grenades hung from a
bandolier slung over one shoulder that attached to her belt. A gun also glinted
from its holster at her hip.
Craig appeared next, dressed in overalls he often wore to
the garage. His boots were more worn that Jyra’s. His face looked whiter than
usual. Berk came next, but Jyra didn’t see any change in his appearance. He
still wore his heavy coat. Neeka and Leonick entered last. Leonick untangled
five earpieces and distributed them as the newcomers picked up their topcoats
and allowed Macnelia to pin on their badges. She also gave the rescue team
members two small metallic strips.
“I’ve made some progress,” Neeka told Macnelia. “I’ve
isolated some frequencies I’m certain are transmissions from the battle. The
sooner I can get back to hacking, the better.”
“This shouldn’t take too long,” Macnelia said and then she
raised her voice to address the whole group. “This is it, people. We’ve got
this last mission to complete before we can fulfill our ultimate purpose for
being here. Although we know TF has detention facilities in its complex, we
don’t know which one Derek is in. Chances are low he’s in confinement offsite.
“Craig has plans of the complex he obtained from Derek a few
months ago. Based on discussions between the two of them, Craig has mapped out
likely locations to scout once we’re inside.”
Craig gathered the plans on the floor and placed them on top
of a crate. Everyone gathered around as he described the areas of interest in
the complex.
“We’re going to enter from the west. The door nearest to us
is on that side and, according to Derek, usually has minimal security. It is
hard to monitor because nearby machinery reduces visibility. Once we’re inside,
we’ll break off and each person is responsible for checking a designated
location.”
Macnelia began speaking again. “The earpieces give us an
advantage because we can update each other as well as Leonick back here on the
ship. Someone gets into trouble, call for help and listen for instructions. The
earpieces also beam your position to Leonick so he can coordinate assistance
efforts. This
goes without saying, but once you find Derek, let everyone know. Any detention
locks will likely be broken with these—” she held up her metallic strips—“Be
aware of what’s going on around you. At this point, TF must be distracted with
the Nilcyn attack. Ideally, we’ll head in, grab our guy, and get out of here
before they realize we’re even inside.”
She stopped talking and everyone seemed to avoid looking at
each other. The magnitude of situation fell on Jyra’s shoulders. She felt her
body stiffen under the weight, as though a massive hammer struck her from above
and she tried to resist the blow. For the first time, Jyra faced the idea that
she might wind up like Dario. The baleful energy in the room suggested others
were thinking along similar lines.
“Earpieces in,” Macnelia said, speaking as she drew a deep
breath. “Neeka and Leonick, return to the cockpit and give us the word when
it’s safe to exit.”
“Good luck,” Neeka said stiffly, fighting to keep herself
composed. Leonick gave a small bow toward the group and headed for the exit.
Neeka threw her arms around Macnelia and shuddered as she took a gulp of air.
“See you soon,” Macnelia said, giving a small smile of
encouragement. She brushed one of Neeka’s tears aside before turning toward the
group. Neeka rushed from the cargo bay.
Shandra picked up a grappling hook and lashed the rope coil
to her belt. Berk imitated her. Jyra and Craig fitted their earpieces in place,
clipping the devices over their ears beneath the hairline.
The five moved out into the passage that led to the small
door out of the ship. They waited in the semidarkness, listening to their own
breathing, but hearing no sound from those next to them.
“Clear,” Leonick’s voice said into their heads.
Berk pressed the door button and jumped out into the dust of
Tyrorken, followed by the rest of the group.
*
Everyone began coughing. Their first breaths sucked the smog
into their lungs. Despite spending her life on the planet, Jyra had never
struggled to breathe as she did now.
“This is their defense,” Berk wheezed over the coughs of
others. “No one can get close to do any damage without suffocating.”
They staggered around the fuel storage tank and moved into
the open. The TF complex towered before them, constructed at the top of a
gentle slope. Over the noise of the wind, they heard muted explosions overhead
as TF and Nilcyn vessels clashed. Jyra pulled the topcoat around her face. She
was able to take a few improved breaths, but the buildup of dust on the fabric
soon made it impractical.
She looked back and saw they had traveled farther than she
thought, but the complex didn’t appear to be any closer. Berk led the group, a
hulking figure lurching up the slope. Macnelia or Shandra were the next two,
then Craig, and Jyra brought up the rear. The coat flapped against Jyra’s legs,
reminding her of the way the breeze tugged at the long garments people wore to
Dario’s funeral. She had picked clothes that were the least vulnerable to the
wind because it was one of the few natural forces on Tyrorken she and Dario
could appreciate. They would fly kites and chase the sporadic vortexes of dust.
After Dario’s death, the wind became a testament to his memory and Jyra’s joy
of the breeze died with her brother.
Jyra nearly walked into Craig, who had slowed his pace. They
had reached the corner of the complex. Berk surveyed ahead and then proceeded
out of sight.
“Come forward,” his voice crackled in the earpieces. Once
they moved onto the west wall, the wind and choking dust subsided. A network of
pipes and distillers were clustered about ten feet from the building. The group
moved in single file, creeping against the smooth glass.
“I can see the door,” Berk reported. “It’s just—”
Neeka’s voice suddenly cut across Berk’s transmission.
“Rescue team, alert, alert! Inbound missile, targeting four
thousand feet north from your present position! Retreat! Inbound missile!
Retreat!”
“Back!” Berk roared and Jyra heard him even without the
earpiece. They all scampered back to the southwest corner and clustered on the
south wall. Jyra looked up and saw the silver glimmer, leaving a white
contrail.
“Now, we’ll see how accurate the complex defenses are,”
Macnelia said with a scratchy voice.
The missile dropped suddenly, bearing down on TF. Jyra
thought she heard a high-pitched whistling noise.
“Estimated one minute until impact,” Neeka said. There was
no missing the despair in her voice.
Unseen batteries activated and rounds of laser bullets
streaked skyward toward the missile. Most of them traveled through the wake of
the explosive.
“Miss,” Berk said.
A second barrage tracked the missile with greater accuracy
and just when a bullet nearly made contact, the explosive rolled sideways,
dodged another bullet, and recalibrated to its target.
“I think we’re actually going to witness the superiority of
Nilcyn weaponry this time,” Berk said. “Laser bullets won’t bring it down.”
A third attack failed to destroy the missile.
“Everyone get back!” Berk said. They felt the building
shudder before the sound of the impact reached their ears. A rumbling note, so
deep it only seemed possible for it to have originated deep within the earth, rolled
over the TF complex and out into the plains. From their end, the building
appeared unharmed. None of the glass panels above them shattered. Moments after
they felt the sound of the explosion, debris from the north came to them.
Shards of glass fell like confetti. They all recognized the danger at once.
“Inside!” Berk said. “And keep an eye above you!”
They charged ahead, trying to watch where they were going as
well as the air above them, which now contained thousands of pieces of tumbling
wreckage. Twisted steel beams crashed into the machinery to their left. Airborne
wall panels broke on the edge of the roof over them. Berk reached the door
first and discovered it was locked.
“Keep an eye above you!” he repeated. Then he took a step
back and charged at the metal door. He brought his boot against it, just above
the latch. The image of the dented panel in the cockpit surfaced in Jyra’s mind
and she knew what would happen. The door burst open from the force of Berk’s
kick. As Jyra watched his performance, she didn’t heed his warning and a sheet
of glass plunged noiselessly toward her. A jagged edge grazed her left arm
above the elbow and tore through the skin like a razor blade.
She felt the cool air swirling around the wound and the flow
of warm blood before she realized what had happened.
“Come on!” Craig shouted at her. Jyra looked up and saw him
gesturing ahead of her. Everyone else had run through the door.
She jogged forward, jumping as another chunk of wall crashed
onto a distillery to her left. Jyra reached the door and noticed the whole jamb
had been warped by Berk’s strength. She ducked in after Craig as scorched steel
beams rained onto the earth.
“What happened?” Shandra said, pointing at Jyra’s arm.
“Little scratch,” Jyra said wearily, tugging the sleeve
back. The cut was about three inches long.
“That’s deep,” Berk said. “That needs to be cleaned and
bandaged,” he added with a smile.
“It’s not funny,” Macnelia said. “Something falling from
that height like glass wouldn’t need to be very big to kill you, let alone take
off your arm.”
“Are you all right?” Craig said.
“I think so,” Jyra said. “In fact—” she raised her wounded
arm to point at the wall—“I’ll be fine thanks to the TF commitment to safety.”
Everyone followed the direction of her gesture and saw an aid box on the wall.
While Macnelia wrapped Jyra’s arm, the others checked the
nearby passages. The floors were white and the walls and ceiling were painted
gray. Their surroundings were so sterile, it looked as though no one had ever
walked in these corridors.
“General rule,” Berk said, addressing the group. “Don’t
shoot unless you have to. First, the noise might attract reinforcements.
Second, anyone you encounter might have useful information and they’ll likely
give it if they’re staring into your gun’s eye. That said, if we get another
inbound missile, shoot whatever you need to get out of the building as soon as
you can. Understood?”
The group gave affirmative murmurs and moved farther into
the complex. They could hear the faint noise of debris from the explosion still
hitting the roof.
“All right,” Craig said once they reached an intersection
where their corridor widened. “Time to divide and locate. Macnelia, you’ve got
the lowest detention facility. Shandra, you’ve got the northwest one two floors
up, I think. Berk yours is the southeast. Jyra, you’ve got the lower northeast
one and I’ve got the one straight up from here at the top, the executive
detention facility.”
“If only that existed,” Shandra said.
She and Jyra set off as the group scattered without another
word. They walked in silence, making an effort to mute the sound of their
footsteps. Shandra pulled her gun free and held it at her side. Jyra stopped,
noticing the sign next to a door to their right. Beyond it, they found a
staircase. Shandra gave a reassuring nod and then began running up the stairs,
two at a time.
Jyra sighed and began her descent. At each turn of the
winding flights of stairs, she heard the wall-mounted lights buzzing. Despite
her best efforts, her boots still thudded on the treads and echoed above and
below. Her nerves prevented any cohesive thought and her mind began inventing
horrific ideas. What if she found Derek, but he had been killed and left in a
cell? What if he wasn’t conscious? Why were they even looking for him? Why risk
nearly the entire resistance for one life? Jyra knew that Derek was the reason
she managed to be part of the resistance in the first place and they needed to
make every effort to save him.
“Nerves,” she muttered to herself. If everyone’s path wound
up being as clear as hers, they shouldn’t have a problem. Jyra remembered what
Macnelia had said about TF letting people go as the company became more
secretive. Hopefully, they had cut back on the number of guards, too. Most of
the TF security forces could be up in space fighting the Nilcyns.
Jyra passed white doors at each landing. She squinted at
each gray information plate she encountered, but saw nothing about a detention
facility. As Jyra rounded another corner, her gun hit the railing and the
clanging note filled her ears. Her fingers fumbled with the holster. She pulled
the firearm free and disengaged the safety. It seemed like a good idea to be on
her guard, but the moment Jyra held the gun before her, she began sweating and
quivering. She returned it to the holster and, when she looked up, saw the next
door was the one to open.
The hallway beyond was just as eerie and silent as the rest
of them. Unlike the passages above, more pipes and ducts had been routed
against the ceiling and upon the walls. They gleamed in the lights, which
seemed dimmer here. Jyra crept forward, unaware she was holding her breath. She
expected guards to leap out from behind some of the wider ducts.
A warm trickling sensation glided down her arm under her
topcoat sleeve. It took Jyra a moment to realize the blood from her wound had
soaked through the bandage. She proceeded down the hallway and saw a large
reinforced door ahead. Jyra broke into a delicate trot and reached the entrance
to the detention area. She peered through the thick window mounted in the door.
An empty desk sat in the left part of the room. A few scattered chairs occupied
the right side. The cellblock extended deep into the wall opposite the door.
She tried the button nearby, but the door didn’t open.
Jyra wondered if one of the lock crackers might work. Before
she could check, the door leading out of the stairwell creaked. Jyra leapt
behind a nearby duct as two enormous guards entered the hallway. They marched
down the passage, absorbed in a murmured conversation. The guards paused in
front of the door, which opened after one of them swiped a fob in front of a
reader. Each guard wore a dull green uniform, a similar colored cap, and black combat
boots. Jyra noticed the attire after staring at the size of the rifles each
guard had slung over their back.
They entered the room and made straight for the cellblock.
Seeing an opportunity, Jyra crept across the hallway. She passed through the
doorway in a crouch and crawled behind the desk. Once she was in place, the
door glided shut. Jyra removed her gun from her hip again and set it on the
floor. Some of her blood dripped onto the linoleum beside her. The crash of
metal on metal from the cellblock startled her.
“Attention!” one of the guards shouted. “Traitors are
ordered to rise!”
Jyra realized the use of the plural, but her mind went blank
as she heard the voice that replied.
“How dare you call me a traitor?” Sherlia said. “I’ve
devoted my life to this company!”
Jyra felt another stab of fear and panic as her father
spoke.
“Don’t,” he said. “You’ll make things worse.”
“It’s as worse as it’s going to get,” the guard said.
“Transmitting classified data to a known enemy carries a severe penalty.”
Jyra heard her mother’s voice break.
“I’ve devoted my life to TF,” Sherlia said. “And it’s
brought me nothing but woe. No enemy can be worse than this company. I’d have
willingly given as much information as was necessary to see TF ruined by any
means.”
“I stand with my wife,” Tadwin said. “Meanwhile you stand
there, aiming guns at those who tried to free you and this planet from this
oppressive corporation. TF killed our son and forced our daughter to flee. I doubt
you’d have done different if you’d faced our circumstances.”
Jyra tried to stand, but her legs quaked under her weight.
Her heart pounded as her parents’ words filled her ears.
The guard chuckled.
“Not if I knew this was coming,” he said.
The rifles cracked and Jyra felt something inside her break.
Tears burned her eyelids as she heard the thuds of bodies hitting the floor.
