Part VI: Initiating the strike

The Mastranada launch thrusters blew snow off the ledge outside the resistance cave as the ship touched down. Jyra and Berk made their way to the cargo bay where they discovered the pod had skidded into the door. A rope, one end still lashed around a steel wall stud, lay tangled on the floor.

“Glad I didn’t have to climb back up,” Berk said, nodding at his wound. He untied the rope, coiled it properly, and threw it into a battered supply crate that was bolted in place. Jyra headed for the cargo door controls.

“Wait, we need to move the pod,” Berk said. “It might knock the door off its track if we try to open it now.”

“This one slides?” Jyra said, impressed again by their luck of finding such a well-equipped transport.

“Like a puck,” Berk said. “Give me a hand.”

They both leaned against the pod and it moved easily away from the door.

“If I had more time, I’d have tied it down,” Berk said. “Go ahead.” He nodded at the controls.

Jyra flipped the dusty hatch cover open and pressed the button. The motors behind the wall whined and the door shuddered as it slid back on squeaking bearings.

Berk stood in the doorway and gestured for Jyra to come to his side. The ledge appeared before them as the door glided out of sight. The cliffs of the mountain jutted toward the clear sky of early morning. Jyra stared at the icy granite and noticed Macnelia and Craig, clad in fur coats, walking down to greet them. She remembered picking her face out of the snow when she arrived on Drometica to see the cave for the first time. Jyra jumped onto the ledge, remembering she had only been on the planet for two nights; it seemed much longer than that.

Craig gave her hug and she felt the sweat on his cheek.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Jyra said.

“Packing,” Craig said, stepping aside and pushing his hair off his forehead.

“Welcome back,” Macnelia said. “Excellent find.” She gazed at the ship before Berk approached and threw an arm around Macnelia, almost knocking her over.

“Berk’s wounded,” Jyra said.

“Makes two of us,” Macnelia said, prying away from Berk and rubbing her ribs. “Doesn’t seem too bad,” she added, looking at Berk’s bloody sleeve.

“Nick from a bullet,” Berk said, while he pulled out his flask. As he sipped the contents, Jyra saw his eyes flick back at the ship as though something had just occurred to him. “I’ll get a bandage on it. Got a quick bit of business to attend to.” He climbed back into the ship.

The others headed toward the cave. Though the breeze was gentle, it pushed Jyra’s cold trousers against her skin and she led the group into the mountain.

The fire pit was empty except for cold ash and a few charred logs. The surrounding cavern was no longer vacant. Boxes and crates took up most of the floor and some stacks of supplies stretched to the ceiling.

“We’re still working in the main cavern,” Craig told Jyra, laying his fur coat across a crate. “Taking the consoles apart is slow work.”

“Took a while to install, too,” Macnelia said.

“Where’d they come from?” Jyra asked.

“The ship Derek brought here,” Macnelia said. “Wasn’t much left after it landed, but we were able to use quite a lot of it. Let’s stack some of these crates to make a better path between the exit and the passage.”

 By the time, they widened the path through the cavern, Berk came in, blowing on his hands and wiping them on his jacket. They all started down the passage to the main cavern. Macnelia tapped one of the buttresses as she passed it.

“Berk made these from the ship’s frame,” she said.

Jyra looked over her shoulder at Berk who lumbered behind the group, his heavy coat and wild hair brushing the sides of the passage.

“You two should go have some breakfast and then lend a hand,” Macnelia said.

“Another ship fell out of the sky,” Jyra said. “The remains had a jagged ‘N’ on the side. We flew over it.”

Macnelia remained silent until they reached the main cavern.

“We’ll be out of the Nilcyn’s reach soon I expect,” she said. “It’s unlikely they know we’re here anyway. Thanks for the report.” Macnelia picked up a wrench and set to work dismantling the remainder of the central console. Neeka, Shandra, and Leonick were untwisting cables that led to the radar controls.

Craig followed Jyra and Berk to the kitchen area.

“Didn’t you eat yet?” Jyra said. Craig shook his head.

“I’ve been loading cables into crates and carefully unhooking the generator. We’re running on a couple battery banks that we’ll blow up once we leave.”

“This whole place is getting destroyed?” Jyra said. Berk, who was already cracking eggs into the skillet at the stove, nodded.

“Cover our tracks,” he said, tossing the shells aside and tearing a package of sausages open with his teeth.

“You were gone a long time,” Craig said. “How’d Berk get shot?”

“With a gun,” Berk said.

“Will you clean and bandage your arm?” Jyra said. Berk shrugged his jacket off and pulled his overshirt over his head and set it on his jacket. Blood surrounded the bullet tear in the sleeve. Even though he wore his undershirt, Jyra couldn’t help but gape at the definition of his muscles. They were so developed, it didn’t seem the undershirt could possibly contain them.

Berk opened a cabinet and pulled out a sanitizing pad and a bandage. Jyra got up to help and saw the bare wound on his arm for the first time. She stared as Berk dragged the sanitizer wipe across it.

“Something the matter?” he asked.

“No,” Jyra said slowly. “Did that guard shoot you with a BB?”

“What?”

“That’s a small wound even for a graze isn’t it?” Jyra said. She grabbed the overshirt off the back of the chair and looked at the tear in the fabric. “I mean, the cut in the sleeve is twice the size of the one on your skin.”

Berk put the bandage in place and took his overshirt out of Jyra’s hands and pulled it over his head. He swung his coat back on and continued making breakfast.

The explanation came to Jyra and she saw her fleeting curiosity reflected in Craig’s expression. I’ll tell you later, she mouthed.

“So a guard shot you,” Craig said, continuing his inquiry.

“Just as we were leaving,” Berk said over the noise of the skillet.

Jyra told Craig about the further destruction she witnessed in the city and the long search in the shipyard for a decent transport. Craig smiled when Jyra got to the part about scaling the supply ship to get a better look and how that led to the discovery of Mastranada. She explained to the point when she and Berk were about to enter the engine room before she remembered the guard. The body must still be in the engine room, dead at the bottom of the ladder. She paused.

“Breakfast’s ready,” Berk announced. He sat down with a full plate and began shoveling eggs into his mouth with a fork.

Jyra ate as fast as she could and started toward Macnelia as soon as she stood up. Berk followed for a few paces, called her back, and spoke so Craig couldn’t hear.

“I’ve already taken care of the body, it’s what I went back in for.”

“Where did you put it?” Jyra whispered.

“Over the cliff.” He ignored Jyra’s revolted expression. “I’ll tell Macnelia and the others about it. Go ahead and get to work. Shall I tell him the rest of the story?”

Jyra nodded, partly relieved she didn’t need to describe her role in killing the guard, but thinking about the incident made her sick, especially right after breakfast.

She wondered why killing the old man in the market didn’t bother her as much. He’d had Craig at gunpoint, but the guard had been shooting at her. Perhaps it was because the old man was already injured and appeared to be dying anyway. He made a choice to threaten Craig. Maybe the guard fired automatically to scare off intruders. He was only doing his job. The last thought stuck. Jyra felt her shoulders fall under the weight of the guilt. The old man didn’t need to harass them and pull out a gun. The guard didn’t have to die.

“Can you give me a hand?” Jyra had to open her eyes, unaware they were closed, and saw Macnelia watching her from the central console.

“Sure,” she said, glad for the distraction.

                        *

Hours passed before the consoles were completely broken down. They began loading empty crates Berk brought up from the lower passage. After a quick lunch, Jyra prepared to head out to assist with a more thorough internal inspection of Mastranada, but Macnelia called her back.

“I’m sorry about the tea and that I haven’t been as direct with you about this operation,” Macnelia said, motioning for Jyra to follow her out of the cavern. “Old habit I can’t quite get rid of.”

Jyra nodded to show she understood. In fact, she already assumed odd habits were at the root of Macnelia’s mysterious behavior. They stopped in the passage and entered another room that turned out to be Macnelia’s. The most obvious feature in the room occupied the middle of the floor. It was shaped like a diamond that had been stretched—two longer sides finished in a point that faced the door. The two shorter sides also came to a point, giving the device a kite shape. It wasn’t flat; it had another kite shape, with equal dimensions, but turned ninety degrees to the horizontal plane of the first kite. If a laser cut through the widest part of device, the cross-section would be a perfect square. It looked to Jyra like an enormous model of an ancient arrowhead.

“Something you’ve been working on in your spare time?” Jyra said, feeling the black metal plating.

“I’ve been doing everything else in my spare time,” Macnelia said. “I’ve been building this bomb for about four months with some help from Leonick. I scavenged parts from the old ship and stole everything else from Horbson. It should destroy the main TF complex.”

“It’s not armed is it?”

Macnelia pointed to a pair of half spheres made of the same metal near the wide part of the bomb.

“I need to slide those open and pull two pins from each one to arm it,” Macnelia said. She went to her cluttered desk and held up what Jyra quickly identified as the bomb detonator. The function of the large red button on it was self-explanatory.

“Will it fit out the door?” Jyra said, stepping back to compare the width of the bomb and the doorframe.

“It should,” Macnelia said, returning the detonator to the desk as she took a seat on her bed. “Showing you this is one reason I brought you to my room, but I also want to tell you what I know about the resistance and how I came to be here.”

She extended a hand to indicate the empty chair at the desk. Jyra crossed to it and sat down.

“Neeka and I joined TF together a few years ago. Things weren’t going well on Jiranthem and we were both desperate to find work so we were easily talked into the TF job. Derek was working in the career department at the time and he was there with the hiring team. He and Neeka started talking about open jobs, but their conversation didn’t stop there. They were together by the end of the three-day visit. Needless to say, we were both hired as programmers and taken to Tyrorken.

“It took only a few weeks after we arrived to discover TF wasn’t what it seemed. Upper management officials isolated themselves from the rest of the company. Communication had been cut off and the absence of facts led to rumors. Derek did his best to not draw attention to himself. He figured it was best to stay with TF to operate from the inside. His diligence paid off and he was promoted to lead scouting missions to find fuel deposits on other planets.

“A few weeks passed after his promotion when Neeka and I learned the entire career office had been dissolved. TF had deprived Tyrorken’s people economic opportunity to the point that most had to come and beg for a job at TF.”

“How did you find out the career program was gone?” Jyra said.

“Neeka and I engaged in some light hacking,” Macnelia said, entwining her thin fingers. “We regularly monitored the department database, just in case management set up new ones that might provide clues about what they were up to. One day, the career department was missing from the list and we knew. Neeka told me most of Derek’s concerns. He didn’t see as many familiar faces. Even as a scouting leader, there were soon entire parts of TF headquarters he wasn’t permitted to enter. The crackdown got worse. Derek thought of quitting when he was told he needed to manage a miner team in addition to scouting. When he showed up the first day for that, he saw people that had worked above him on his team.

“Again, Derek’s keen management to his behavior fooled the higher-ups. Many other employees had been fired or demoted all around him and he knew it, but he hadn’t said anything. Neeka and I didn’t find out much by hacking the TF system. Soon we were both moved to work on the rig platforms. It was there I met your brother.”

“You met him?” Jyra said and felt her stomach clench with surprise.

“About two years ago,” Macnelia said. “We trained together and he asked if I wanted to get a drink at the end of our first shift. We’ve been together since then.”

“That’s why he came home so late that first day,” Jyra said. The feelings came and went inside so quickly she couldn’t focus on them. It hurt that Dario never mentioned Macnelia and even though she was his sister, Jyra felt threatened by the love he shared with someone else. At the same time, she was happy Dario had found Macnelia.

“We spent as much time together as possible, but TF duties interfered,” Macnelia said. She had been talking in soft voice that sounded almost indifferent, but Jyra caught the sudden bitter tone. “Another mission to Drometica had been ordered and Derek, Neeka, Dario, and I were supposed to go. Derek knew of some promising deposits and the rest of us were some of the best rig workers TF had. Dario mentioned something about his parents wanting to keep him at home and, sure enough, he was taken off the mission.

“We worked in these mountains for a few months,” Macnelia said. “We weren’t alone, of course, and so we didn’t talk about resistance efforts much in case other workers heard. In fact, Derek was summoned back to the planet so often, I began to doubt his loyalty. Maybe something about the Drometica mine work fiddled with our minds because working here seemed to attack the relationships we’d built. To trust was to risk it all. Eventually, that’s what I had to do.

“Derek found this place and rigged up some explosives at the TF worksite. After faking my death and Neeka’s, he brought us here. Of course, he had to go back to Tyrorken, report the accident, and return with supplies and other workers. Not only that, he was able to tell Dario what was going on, namely that I wasn’t dead and that we’d started a resistance to overthrow TF.”

“Dario never told me a word,” Jyra said.

“That was part of the deal,” Macnelia said. “Even though Derek and Neeka were together and we all knew each other, it took a long time to build mutual trust. Once I heard Dario knew of the resistance, I stayed awake most nights, worrying he might tell.”

“You didn’t really know him, then,” Jyra said, stiffening in the chair.

“People disappeared for far more trivial reasons than for planning to destroy TF,” Macnelia said. “I loved Dario and my base instincts always won over the anxiety and worry my mind made up. Once I learned to control the hypothetical, I became more dynamic and I started seeking out others to swell our ranks. Neeka and I spent some time in Horbson. We met Berk and Leonick in a bar if you can imagine that.”

“I can.”

“Neeka and I were a few drinks in and the guys sat down at our table,” Macnelia continued. “I told them we couldn’t talk to them because we had nothing but secrets to tell. Berk thought that was fine and went ahead and told us his story, which I gather he’s told you. After hearing that and drinking a little more, Neeka and I realized Berk might be willing to get behind our resistance, be part of something he wished he’d started on his own planet. So we told them what we were up to. An hour later, Neeka was on my lap in the pod as Berk flew us back to here. Then he went back for Leonick.

“We had some equipment here to expand the passages and to keep us warm. Derek periodically brought us supplies and food. Once we had the pod, it was easy for us to get to town and obtain what we needed. TF officials might have suspected Derek of some odd behavior, but he always assuaged them in the end. Then he crashed the ship he flew in from Tyrorken to take the crew and drill equipment home. TF sent another transport and kept Derek confined to Tyrorken after that. He’d been back there a few weeks when he met Craig through Dario. The three of them began planning a strike on TF. Derek suspected TF was monitoring their activities so they didn’t meet often.

“But you know what comes next,” Macnelia said. She made an effort to swallow. “Derek sent me a message about what happened to Dario. I didn’t want to believe it. I wondered if Derek’s com had been hacked and maybe TF knew I was alive. Then, on the same frequency, he told me he was going to deliver a letter to you and tell his team they didn’t have to work that day out of respect for Dario’s memory. I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn’t go back on it. I thought it would be too obvious and he was putting himself and Dario’s family in danger, as well as the lives of his team.”

Macnelia wiped her eyes and directed her gaze to the faded Mourning Mark on Jyra’s forehead.

“It’s a Tyrorken custom,” Jyra said, touching the Mark and checking the smudge on her fingertip. “It’s about the only tradition TF hasn’t sullied.”

“Derek told me about the funeral scam. It’s sick.”

“Did he tell you it was my mom’s idea?” Jyra said. Macnelia inhaled sharply and frowned. “I always thought my family was normal enough,” Jyra said. “I couldn’t complain about my parents that much and Dario…I mean he was the brother any sister could hope for. Part of me still can’t believe I’m here. I never thought I’d walk out on my parents, let alone run away from my planet.”

“I didn’t think of myself as an extreme person either,” Macnelia said. “I never thought I’d become someone I’d hear about on the news. But I believe in stopping TF before its murders go global.”

“What do you mean?” Jyra said.

“You lived there, you should know,” Macnelia said, shaking her head. “TF has turned Tyrorken into a wasteland. The heat and pollution are going to overwhelm the planet. I don’t care how advanced the air processors are; they still need to take in some oxygen to function. If we don’t act soon, TF is going to destroy Tyrorken and everyone on it. Why do you think they’re scouting for deposits on other planets?”

“Destroy it?” Jyra repeated and raised her eyebrows.

“Near enough. You won’t be able to set foot on it without a climate suit. Derek heard a rumor that some TF managers already have survival gear stockpiled in case things go wrong before they can escape. Are they going to provide everyone on the planet with a suit or let the air kill half the people first?”

“Those people are their workers!” Jyra said, appalled at the idea of TF allowing the air quality to degrade further. She thought of her parents.

“Not for much longer,” Macnelia said, placing a hand on the detonator. “There won’t be any place to work soon.”

Jyra imagined the bomb plunging into the TF complex, shattering the glass domes and tearing through floors into the heart of the building. She saw people scrambling for the exits before the harsh white light of the explosion erased the vision. Jyra watched Macnelia handling the detonator, rotating it between her hands. Jyra realized those hands had worked along with Dario’s on the oil platforms. Why hadn’t he ever mentioned Macnelia? It didn’t seem appropriate to ask Macnelia such a question, but Jyra remembered another.

 “Was Derek trying to recruit others besides Craig and me?”

“What’s that?” Macnelia said, tearing her eyes from the detonator.

“This mission that got Craig and me here,” Jyra said. “Were others supposed to come too?”

“Derek wanted to see if anyone on his rig team wanted to join,” Macnelia said. “That’s all I know, though. Obviously, it didn’t work out or he was captured before he could carry out those plans.”

Someone knocked on the door. Macnelia stood up, opened it, and stepped back to let Leonick pass. He smiled at Jyra and knelt next to the bomb.

“How’re you doing?” she asked. Leonick didn’t look at her as he pulled out a screwdriver. He started to remove a plate on the underside of the explosive then paused.

“I don’t know how I’m doing,” he said, slowly. “I know I’m doing. I’m always doing something just like everyone else. Right now, I’m removing one screw of four that secure a cover plate over the guide system relays.”

By the time he finished speaking, the smell of alcohol filled Macnelia’s room and Jyra resisted the urge to bury her nose in her sleeve. Leonick finished with the screws and he set the hatch aside. Despite the smell, Jyra walked toward the door and stood behind him to watch him work.

His hands slid into the compartment. His fingers fluttered over exposed wiring, finding their own way as if Leonick were blind. Jyra glanced at her own hands. Even as an apprentice with Craig at the garage, she had injured herself on the job; a large scar crossed the back of her right hand from when her palm slipped off a wrench and her skin hit a sharp seam on a fuel tank. Despite his obvious mastery and involvement with machining and creating the explosive, Leonick’s hands were unmarked and moved with a grace Jyra didn’t expect. She noticed Macnelia watching her.

“Aces,” Leonick said. “The bomb can be directed within five feet of its target.”

“Thank you,” Macnelia said. She came to Jyra’s side.

They both watched Leonick replace the cover plate and spin the screws back in place.

“What project are you working on next?” Macnelia asked.

“Packing the things in my room that I’m taking with me,” Leonick said. He gave a small smile and walked back into the hallway, twirling the screwdriver between his fingers.

“Berk says he knows how to work on energy cores,” Jyra said.

“I believe it,” Macnelia said. “I wouldn’t call Leonick normal, but he certainly has a way with, well, just about anything he puts his mind to.”

“Is he an alcoholic?”

“Probably. He claims whiskey clears the chatter in his brain and makes it easier to focus. I suspect it’s why he and Berk became friends in the first place. Alcohol brings some sort of order to their worlds.”

“What are we working on next?” Jyra said.

“If the new ship’s passed the test, I think we’ll begin loading it.”

                        *

 Jyra walked up the passage with Macnelia, thinking about everything they discussed. Questions appeared in her mind like exploding fireworks, but it was impossible to follow each bursting flare. What had Macnelia and Dario talked about besides the resistance? Where had Leonick come from and why was he so capable? How had Derek managed to keep such a low profile at TF? What would happen to all the TF employees once Jyra helped destroy where they worked?

As they entered the cavern full of supplies waiting to be loaded, Jyra noticed an open crate full of rags. She grabbed a couple along with some aerosol cleaner. Macnelia, who was pulling two of the heavy coats off a stack of boxes, narrowed her eyes at Jyra.

“The ship’s pretty dusty inside,” Jyra said, accepting one of the coats.

They shuffled out of the passage and discovered the sky was no longer clear; gray clouds had collected above the mountains and snowflakes tumbled around them. Jyra followed Macnelia to the ship. They discovered Berk and Shandra in the cargo bay wearing identical coats. Jyra wasn’t sure why she expected the ship to be warmer, especially with the large door open to the elements. She couldn’t contain her surprise when she saw the clouds of her breath after climbing aboard.

“It’ll be pretty chilly in here until we fire up the engines and get out of here,” Berk said.

“How’s it look?” Macnelia said, walking in a small circle while taking in the size of the cargo bay.

“It’ll do,” Shandra said. “We’ve only done a quick check, but I saw no obvious deal-breakers.”

“I still think Leonick should check the cores and have Neeka run a full diagnostic of the systems,” Berk said.

“What about the hull?” Macnelia said.

“What about it?” Shandra said. Jyra thought she saw Macnelia’s expression soften toward Shandra before she addressed her next question to Berk. 

“Is it sound?”

“It’s not in the best shape,” Berk said. “But it should hold for our journey.”

“I’d like to do the most thorough visual check possible of the entire hull before we leave,” Macnelia said. “That ruptured hull on the TF wreck he flew here nearly killed him.”

Jyra realized that must have been the ship Derek crashed. She wondered if TF had given him that transport on purpose. How easy it would be to make him disappear by providing compromised equipment that would lead to almost certain death. Even as she thought of that, her hand closed on the aerosol can in her pocket and she moved toward the passage out of the cargo bay.

“Where’re you headed?” Macnelia asked, cutting across Berk who was explaining the challenges of a visual hull inspection.

“Just a quick spot clean,” Jyra said. “Won’t be long.” She departed hastily before Macnelia could call her back. Jyra made her way down the corridor and headed toward the engine room. She pushed the door open and saw the marks of the bullets in the floor plating. The smell of grease filled her nose. The dim glow of the lights overhead filtered through the catwalks above.

Jyra pulled the rag and cleaner from her pocket with a clammy hand. The rag and can still felt cold and, despite the coat, she did, too. The wall-mounted ladder was just ahead. Even from here, Jyra could see the bloodstained floor. She caught herself feeling both repulsed and intrigued by the idea that the red smear before her had pounded in the guard’s ears like it did in Jyra’s.

She shook the can and sprayed the solution over the blood. The fumes burned her nostrils. Jyra dropped the rag to the floor and began wiping, staining the cloth a gritty red. It didn’t take long finish the job. Jyra tried to steady her shaking hands as she straightened and proceeded to leave. Her eyes caught the energy cores. She pushed the can of cleaner into her pocket and approached the cylinders. Except knowing they produced enough power for the entire ship, the energy cores were a complete mystery to Jyra. After seeing what people had to go through to manufacture liquid, oil-based fuel for transports, it seemed odd that energy core technology wasn’t used more often.

Jyra stared into each cylinder again, mesmerized by their unknown qualities. If she could stand his strong whiskey odor, Jyra found herself wanting to work alongside Leonick when he evaluated the energy cores. She turned to leave and faced the plated wall of the engine room. Even from where she stood, Jyra noticed a couple fissures between the plates. Gaps that size on the exterior hull plates could threaten the whole ship. Jyra had seen a few cases of transports she’d worked on with compromised hull plates. If the breaches became too severe, the stress of passing through the atmosphere of a planet could destroy a ship.

Jyra left the engine room and traveled back to the cargo bay, determined not to look at the rag in her hand. The others had left the bay. Jyra jumped onto the gathering pack of snow and walked toward the stern. Mastranada took up almost the entire width of the ledge. She managed to duck around one of the massive engines and when she stood next to the second engine on the other side of the ship, Jyra threw the rag into the air. It fell from the ledge amid the snowflakes and the wind carried it toward the center of the valley.

                        *

“Where’ve you been?” Craig said. He yanked the last of the cables from the generator, which sat in a large alcove of the main cavern.

“Talking with Macnelia and doing a little work on the ship,” Jyra said.

“How’s the ship?” Craig asked.

“Should do well as long as the hull plates are sound.”

“They’d better be.”

Jyra turned to check that the cavern was empty. Neeka had left to look over the computers on the ship.

“Did you know Macnelia and Dario were a couple?” Jyra said. Craig’s hand slipped on the ratchet he was using to unbolt the generator from the wall.

“They were?” he said. “I had no idea.”

“He never mentioned her,” Jyra said.

“You think Macnelia’s lying?” Craig said, twisting the ratchet. Jyra shook her head. She had just talked to Macnelia at length and it made no sense that she would have made anything up.

“It’s hard, I guess,” Jyra said, processing the information slowly. “I can’t help wondering what else Dario knew that he didn’t share with me. Derek met you through Dario, right? Derek was organizing the resistance and neither you nor Dario mentioned anything to me.”

Jyra fixed Craig with a cold stare that he noticed once he turned around.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the resistance sooner?”

Craig stared at the finger he ran around the edge of the socket for a moment. Jyra took a few steps closer. Craig met her gaze with an apologetic expression.

“Derek wouldn’t allow it. He already suspected TF was watching him,” Craig said. “It was too dangerous.”

“And that’s why Dario didn’t tell me either?” Jyra said, feeling the heat rise in her face.

“He agreed to keep silent,” Craig said. “I’m sorry, but that’s how we had to operate for our safety.”

“I know,” Jyra said. “It’s just somehow Dario isn’t who I thought he was. That’s why I’m upset.”

Craig set the ratchet on top of the generator and faced Jyra. She didn’t want to look at him, so she stared into the alcove.

“Dario was the same person you knew him to be,” Craig said. “Don’t use his involvement in this resistance to tarnish his memory. It’s hard to get off that ship once you’re on it.”

“How do you know?” Jyra said, still avoiding eye contact and biting her lip.

“I know because that old man we met in the stockroom was right,” Craig said. “The tough decisions in my life stay with me. Whatever choices I made, I second-guess them. I tried to talk Dario out of the oil work. For the sake of the resistance, we already had Derek as our inside man. We didn’t need another, but Dario refused to leave. I let him off the hook too easily. I know I could have convinced him otherwise. Now it’s too late.”

Jyra met Craig’s gaze briefly and nodded before turning away. She strode out of the cavern and back to her room. Her duffel remained open on the floor and she could see the book Dario gave her. Jyra sat on the cot and retied her hair, pulling it back harder than intended. She wrapped her arms around her knees and dropped her head onto her wrist. She couldn’t stop thinking about Dario and that he’d kept such significant parts of his life secret.

Someone walked by in the passage and Jyra lifted her head. The Mourning Mark had smudged her wrist. Craig’s warning filled her mind. She wished Dario could have remained perfect in her memory.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jyra told herself through gritted teeth. She closed her eyes, hoping to open them to see the dusty street from the porch where she and Dario had spent their time reading as children.

Jyra leaned forward and lifted “Ships of the Kaosaam System” from her duffel. She looked at Dario’s signature on the title page, remembering how he always dotted the “i” before writing the last letter in his name. She wondered what Craig had said to discourage her brother from working on the platforms. It hadn’t been right to be upset with Craig. He wasn’t the only one who held back information. Jyra noticed the parallel between Derek and Dario. Each had a friend who had tried to interfere with their actions to protect them. Craig had told Dario to abandon the rig work and Macnelia had begged Derek to avoid any rash action after Dario’s death.

As a wave of sadness broke inside her chest, Jyra stood up and tossed the book back into her duffel. She cursed herself for wasting time. The secrets were no more and she was part of the resistance that needed to first rescue Derek and then destroy the evil that had hurt her. Jyra threw her dirty clothes into her duffel, zipped it shut, and hauled it out of the room. She took it up the passage to the supply cavern and saw Shandra working amid the crates.

Jyra realized she hadn’t heard how Shandra came to join the resistance. Except that he’d been with Berk, she didn’t know much of Leonick’s story either. She reminded herself not to ask any more questions unless they were related to departing.

“What can I do to help?” she asked.

“Berk went down to the main cavern a moment ago to bring up the generator,” Shandra said. “He just rigged a convenient way to get our supplies to the ship. You can go assist Berk and Craig.”

Jyra had been wondering how they were going to move the multiple crates over the icy rocks and snowdrifts to the cargo bay on Mastranada. In addition to the smaller items, they also had to get the generator and bomb onto the ship. She walked down the passage and found Craig and Berk tipping the generator onto a small dolly.

“We could use a hand pushing,” Berk said.

“That’s why I’m here,” Jyra said.

With the help of a winch, a dolly, and lots of muscle, the three managed to move the generator up the passage. They parked it in the cavern with the crates then reset the winch to pull the bomb up from Macnelia’s room. The explosive was much easier to handle compared to the cumbersome generator. Jyra took greater care while pushing bomb, even though the safety pins were still in place. Once it was stored next to the generator, Berk turned their attention to the piles of boxes.

 “I think everything is ordered based on need,” he said. “The stuff we load in first will be the most inaccessible. Crates closest to the exit right now are supposed to be low priority.”

He seized a large box and walked toward the mouth of the cave. Craig and Jyra picked up a heavy crate together and followed Berk. Once they were outside, they saw what Berk had rigged to simplify the loading process. A thick cable was fixed around an exposed steel wall stud in the cargo bay and the other end was anchored to the mountain right by the cave. A pallet hung from four cables that all attached to a burly pulley, which rolled freely on the line between cliff and ship.

A rope tied to the pulley allowed a controlled descent, so the pallet didn’t slam into the cargo bay wall.

Jyra couldn’t help smiling when she realized how much time and energy the suspended pallet would save.

“It’s fantastic,” Jyra said. “What a relief.”

“Load it up,” Berk said gruffly, but Jyra saw through his whiskers that he was smiling, too.

They did have to take care to balance the loads on the pallet. Shandra, Macnelia, and Leonick worked in the cargo bay, stacking the crates and supplies. The pulley squeaked as it glided down toward the ship and jumped on the jerking cable as Berk pulled the empty pallet back to the cave.

It hadn’t stopped snowing and the drifts were nearly level with the cargo bay floor. The wind increased and the pallet swung so much, one load overbalanced and the crates toppled free. They plunged into the swath of white below and new snowflakes began covering them. The workers in the cargo bay, all clad in heavy coats, jumped outside to retrieve the supplies. By the time they rescued everything from the tipped pallet, the snow was spilling into the cargo bay and sheets of it that gathered on the hull were sliding off and piling up around the ship.

Craig, Jyra, and Berk were all sweating from the effort of loading, but they only had a few more piles to go. Macnelia shrugged off her coat and gave it to Neeka who appeared in the cargo bay. Macnelia helped unload the next pallet and then rode it back to the cave.

“I’d better go pack,” she said, stepping off the pallet and shivering. Berk tied off the pulley rope and the four of them walked into the storage cavern.

“Nearly there,” Macnelia said, glancing around. “Just a couple more stacks. Neeka’s got the Nilcyn com recognition programmed into Mastranada’s computers so we’re set there.” She disappeared into the passage.

Craig, Jyra, and Berk finished with the crates and now faced the two largest items. Berk picked up another coil of cable and began wrapping it around the generator as though tying a ribbon around a gift.

“Won’t fit on the pallet, but we can clip this onto the pulley,” he said. “I’ll need you two helping me with the rope for this one.”

Pushing it to the mouth of the cave was quite simple. Once they had it out on the mountainside, Berk unclipped the pallet and let it freely crash upon the rocks. He pulled the loose cable around the generator and tried to attach it to the pulley, but the hook was too far away.

Craig and Jyra pushed against the load and the dolly slid out onto a treacherous patch of ice.

“A little more!” Berk said. They pushed one last time and one of the casters skidded off a rock and whole dolly high-centered in place.

Berk yanked on the pulley and stretched the generator cable toward it. Jyra watched as he grunted with the effort and the generator began to tip. It was falling toward the toward the pallet.

“Grab the rope!” Berk shouted.

It had happened so fast, Jyra didn’t even see that he had succeeded. Now the generator swung on the pulley, which was picking up speed as it headed for the ship. They all grabbed the rope to arrest the generator, which gathered speed as it glided on the pulley cable. The weight of the load pulled Craig right off the cliff. He let go of the rope and landed, face first, on the snow-covered ledge.

Jyra and Berk tugged as hard they could and managed to slow the generator so the others could control it and unclip it from the pulley.

“Send the cable back!” Berk said over the wind, as Jyra climbed down to help Craig back up.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that thing was heavy,” Craig said, shivering as they scrambled past the fallen pallet.

They used the same cable to secure the bomb to the pulley. It was much easier to transfer to the ship.

“Someone’s got a chilly job ahead of them,” Berk said. “They need to get under the ship and get that bomb in one of the mounts.”

“Now?” Jyra said. “Why?”

“It’s better to put a bomb where it belongs the first time,” Berk said. “We’ve still got to inspect the hull, too.”

Jyra wasn’t smiling anymore. The largest obstacle to their departure seemed to be the packing and loading, which they had finished. Now, they had to dig out the snow underneath the ship and brush all the snow off the hull to make sure it was sound.

“Wait,” Jyra said. “Why waste time digging and sweeping when we can just take the ship up and do a quick circle? During landing, the launch thrusters will blow most of the snow on the ledge out of the way.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Berk said. “We’ll still have to do an inspection of the hull once it’s clean, but overall it’s still a faster plan.”

Within half an hour, everyone aboard had strapped the crates and boxes in place in the cargo bay. Once Berk unhooked the pulley cable from the wall stud, he and Jyra headed to the cockpit. The cargo door closed and Mastranada awoke. The cores were heating and on standby to fire the engines.

As Shandra left the cargo bay, she felt the launch thrusters spinning beneath her and heard the sound of loose ice and rock striking the belly of the ship. Mastranada lifted and dived into the valley, leaving a trail of ice and snow in its wake.

“She flies fine with the load,” Jyra said, checking the cargo weight report on her monitor.

Berk pulled up and made a wide circle around a nearby peak before coming back toward the ledge.

“Bring us in at thirty-five degrees to the cliff,” Berk said. Mastranada rotated so her belly aimed at the snowdrifts in the landing area. Berk increased the power flow to the launch thrusters and Jyra held the ship’s position for a few moments.

“That should do the trick,” she said.

The two pilots leveled the transport and lowered it onto the ledge.

“Extending the landing pads,” Jyra said. “It’ll make it easier to get the bomb into the mount.”

Berk nodded as the noise of the engines and launch thrusters faded. They made their way back to the cargo bay. Shandra had already opened the door. Everyone pulled on coats and jumped onto the ledge. The snow had been cleared down to the rock. Most of it had been blown against the mountain.

“Get the bomb out of its straps and let’s get it under here,” Berk said. He, Jyra, Craig, and Shandra all lifted the explosive out of the cargo bay. They crept under the ship, muscled the bomb over to the forward incendiary mount, and placed it beneath the three steel arms. Berk opened them to the proper dimensions. While the rest held the bomb in place, he tightened the mount and the bomb hung in its cradle.

“Hull inspection,” Berk said once they crawled out from under the ship. Leonick and Neeka had unhooked the other end of the pulley cable from the mountain and wound it up. Berk lifted the coil and pulley easily into the cargo bay and he clapped Leonick on the shoulder.

“How do the cores look during operation?” Berk asked.

“They look as they always do,” Leonick said. “As for their operation while the ship is running, they could use maintenance. Corrosion in the lower sectors reduces overall output.”

“Can you do that work while we’re flying?” Berk said.

Leonick nodded and took a swig of whiskey. Craig lowered a stepladder out of the cargo bay and Berk grabbed it.

“Great,” Berk said. “Craig and I will take the roof while the rest of you start checking the sides.”

“I’m going to find Macnelia,” Jyra said, realizing she must still be packing.

Jyra clambered up the slippery snow bank and crept into the cave. The benches were still clustered around the fire pit. Jyra walked down the passage. Macnelia’s door was open, but she wasn’t in the room. The bed had been stripped and the desk cleared. Two large bags sat on the floor. Jyra heard a clicking sound coming from the main cavern.

When she reached it, she saw the source of the noise. Macnelia had a camera pressed to her eye as she took photos of the main cavern. Jyra emerged from the passage and made an effort to increase the sound of her footsteps. Macnelia looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Memories,” she said, tilting the camera in her hand.

“The cavern looks bigger without all the machines,” Jyra said.

“It’ll look a lot different once the bomb on the battery bank goes off,” Macnelia said.

“Is it ticking?”

“Eight hours,” Macnelia said.

“The hull inspection’s happening now,” Jyra said.

“Then we’ll get the bomb mounted,” Macnelia said.

“That’s already done.”

“You all worked fast.”

Jyra explained how they had cleared the snow from both the ship and the ledge.

“I was down at the batteries,” Macnelia said. “That’s why I couldn’t hear the engines. I’m glad you didn’t leave me here.”

Jyra laughed but saw a glint of seriousness in Macnelia’s eyes.

“What? We wouldn’t desert you here. You’re the master planner of this whole strike,” Jyra said.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Macnelia said.

Even during their discussion about Dario’s death, Jyra hadn’t heard Macnelia sound so despondent.

“What’s the matter?” Jyra asked. “We’re ready to launch our attack. Your bomb is waiting. Let’s go.” She started walking toward the passage and Macnelia followed a few paces behind.

“It’s a funny feeling,” Macnelia said, letting her camera hang on the strap around her neck. “I’ve been planning this for so long. I sought vengeance against TF for those who couldn’t seek it themselves. Then I heard about Dario and now my personal stake in this—”

She trailed off as they walked into her room. Each woman grabbed one of the bags and proceeded up the passage.

They stepped out into the snowstorm. Jyra could see the snowflakes already reclaiming the blast zone from the launch thrusters. Both Craig and Berk were on top of the ship checking the hull. Shandra stood on the ladder near the stern, running her fingers over the cold seams that fastened the plates together.

“Berk’s loading system saved a lot time,” Jyra said, hauling Macnelia’s luggage down the snow bank.

“Ship’s good so far!” Berk called out.

“Keep looking!” Macnelia replied. She and Jyra heaved the bags up into the cargo bay.

“Can the pod get out of there easily?” Berk said. Jyra checked and saw only a few crates blocking it.

“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”

“The other side of the ship hangs over the cliff. If someone sits on the supply rack, they can check the hull over there.”

“Let’s do it,” Macnelia said.

After pushing the crates aside, Macnelia donned a coat and clung to the rack while Jyra piloted the pod around to the starboard side of the ship. She brought it in as close to the hull as she dared. The wind made it hard to hold the pod steady. When she was ready to move ahead, Macnelia knocked her fist on the cockpit dome. By the time the pod returned to its home behind the crates, the others had finished their inspections.

“Clear?” Macnelia said, once everyone had gathered in the cargo bay and they all nodded.

“Neeka, any Nilcyns around?” Macnelia said. Neeka shook her head.

“Derek’s waiting,” she said.

“We’ve all been waiting for Derek,” Macnelia said. “Let’s go get him and complete our mission. I made these a few months ago after getting the design set for the bomb.”

She pulled squares of fabric from inside her coat and handed them out. Jyra looked at hers and realized it was a badge. The shape of the bomb, complete with the safety chambers, had been embroidered in green onto a black background.

“Why green?” Berk said, holding his badge up to his chest.

“I figured it’s the bomb that’s making life possible again on Tyrorken,” Macnelia said. “Which reminds me, I don’t suppose anyone pulled the pins yet.”

She didn’t wait for an answer before she jumped out of the cargo bay and crawled under the ship. Berk and Shandra helped lift her back in and Macnelia held up the pins.

“Ready to go,” Macnelia said. “Berk and Jyra, are you our pilots?”

They both nodded.

“Take us to the enemy,” Macnelia said. “Everyone prepare for takeoff.”

Moments later, Jyra and Berk took their seats in the cockpit.

“Was Macnelia ever in a military?” Jyra said. Berk shrugged.

“She told me she took a public speaking class in school,” he said.

“How did that come up?”

“The night Leonick and I met Neeka and Macnelia at a bar in Horbson,” Berk said. “She spoke with an eloquence that completely disguised her inebriation and I asked her why she was so good with words.”

“If she was so eloquent, how could you tell she was drunk?” Jyra said.

“Tripping on the same table twice while trying to leave gave her away,” Berk said. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, which was empty. He replaced it and drew out another.

“How many of those do you have?” Jyra said, as she threw the switches to prime the energy cores.

“Enough to keep me happy,” Berk said. “Let’s get out of here.”

As Mastranada lifted from the ledge for the final time, Jyra heard and felt the low frequency drone of a powerful explosion.

“Gun the engines now!” she shouted. The ship lurched forward and leapt across the valley in seconds. “Turn one-eighty,” Berk said. Mastranada spun around so the pilots could look back through the snowflakes at their old base.

The mountain eroded before their eyes in an avalanche of ice and rock. Entire facades broke loose from the peak as fire and smoke spewed from below the ledge where the ship just launched. Moments later, great slabs of granite from above crashed onto ledge as the upper part of the mountain imploded from the explosion. Neither Jyra nor Berk said a word as the remains of the peak toppled into the valley. The swish of liquid sounded from a flask as Berk took another swig.

“She said it wasn’t going to go off for eight hours,” Jyra said.

“What?”

“Macnelia said she’d set the time on the bomb at eight hours,” Jyra said.

“When did she start it counting?” Berk said. “That bomb nearly killed all of us!”

“She seemed distracted when she mentioned it,” Jyra said. “Maybe she entered the time wrong or started it earlier than she meant to. Although she said she didn’t hear the ship when we flew it around to clear the snow. She was down at the batteries.”

“Where the bomb was,” Berk said. “She must have either set it then or checked on it. We all get distracted sometimes, but that nearly ended everything.”

Shaking his head, he engaged the engines and Jyra steered the ship to face the sky.

Part IV: Attack on Horbson

Jyra and Craig took a seat at the table, which was now covered by a map.

“You’re looking at a settlement to the northeast of here,” Berk said. “It’s called Horbson, about thirty miles away.”

“It’s been an essential and convenient source for us,” Shandra said. “It’s a perfectly functional city on it’s own, but has some vulnerabilities.”

“The police aren’t very organized. In fact, it’s challenging for them to form a basic perimeter,” Berk said. “Even after one patrol had me nearly cornered in a food storehouse, other units failed to cover all the exits. I made it out and escaped with the goods.”

“How long have you been operating from here?” Jyra said.

“About eight months,” Shandra said. “We need to work faster, though. Each mission into Horbson is another risk. Just because the authorities haven’t followed us back here yet doesn’t mean they won’t. But we’ve got to eat and food supplies are getting low. Let’s go over the food theft first. Then we’ll start talking about hitting the shipyard.”

“Why are you sending us on the food mission? We don’t know anything about the town,” Craig said.

“Exactly,” Berk said. “Which means no officer has seen you there, nor anyone else, so you can’t be identified.”

“Shouldn’t our anonymity be preserved for the ship mission?” Jyra said.

“The ship mission will take all of us,” Shandra said, exhaling heavily through her nose. “When did you two become so doubtful?”

“I want to make sure we’re thinking everything through,” Craig said.

“That’s been seen to,” Shandra said. “So here’s what you do.”

She explained the plan with constant input from Berk.

“This market will receive a shipment in about six hours,” Shandra said.

“It’ll be dark by then,” Berk added with an assuring nod.

Leonick only stared and took sips of Nova from a flask that, as far as Jyra could tell, had materialized in his hand.

After reviewing the location of the market’s loading dock, Shandra moved onto describing the vehicle.

“It’s a standard mid-range pod. We’ll go see it in a moment.”

“Either of you ever flown one?” Berk asked. He leaned forward and through the shaggy hair about his face, Jyra noticed his eyes gleamed with a serious gaze.

 She shook her head.

“I’ve flown a pod before,” Craig said, also put off by the sudden shift in Berk’s demeanor.

“I’ve hit people before,” Berk growled. In a pleading tone he added, “Shan, you’ve got to let me fly.”

“Macnelia wants the two of them to go,” Shandra hissed. “The pod belonged to Berk before he donated it to our cause. Instinctive protection of such a machine dies hard.”

“I want as much time as possible to go over the pod with each of them,” Berk said, sitting back with a scowl.

“It’s fine if you want to just show Craig,” Jyra said. “He’d be better at it—”

“Not if he’s been shot,” Berk said. “I don’t mean to say that will happen, but if it does, it’s up to you to get him back here.”

Jyra gulped.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Craig said, keen to divert the conversation away from even a hypothetical gunshot wound. “I mean, we’re not supposed to grab random boxes, are we?”

“They should be labeled,” Shandra said. “A couple floodlights above the dock should make them easy to read. Of course, they’ll also make you more visible.”

“Will we be armed?” Jyra said.

“You’ll each have a gun, but hopefully you won’t have to use them. Remember, you’re dealing with innocent people,” Shandra said. “No kill shots.”

Jyra wasn’t sure she could hit any target with a gun; she’d never even held a firearm. She was so preoccupied thinking about the consequences of possessing such a weapon, it took the sounds of chairs scraping back from the table and the map rolling up to bring her attention back to the cavern.

“Berk will show you the pod,” Shandra said.

Jyra and Craig followed Berk toward a passage across the cavern. Jyra watched Shandra walk over and take a seat next to Neeka. The two of them began talking in hushed voices. Soon, the cavern disappeared around a sharp curve in the corridor as the newcomers trailed after Berk farther into the mountain.

*

The passage was dimmer than the first. Lights were spaced at greater intervals. Some flickered as the trio passed them. Jyra ran her fingers along the rough, damp walls. She remembered the rocks on Tyrorken. She and Dario discovered a pile of gritty stones near a pit mine when they were children. They made a game of seeing who could throw the farthest. Even at the narrowest point of the pit, none of their rocks made it even halfway to the opposite side. They stopped when Jyra’s coughing fits from the bad air forced them to return home.

Jyra stumbled on the uneven ground and Dario’s smile as he lobbed a dirty stone vanished from her mind. The passage floor had become even steeper.

“Might want to use your hands from here,” Berk said over his shoulder. Jyra watched as he spread his arms to brace his body. The sleeves of his jacket pulled back to reveal his wrists. Though she couldn’t see it, Jyra thought of his tattoo and before she considered it, she blurted the question.

“What's the tattoo on your wrist?”

Berk stopped and fumbled in his jacket with one hand. He took a swig of whiskey and then continued on.

“From a hospital on Silanpre where I’m from,” he grunted. “If you make it back, maybe I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”

None of them spoke again until they came to a fork in the passage.

“This way,” Berk said, taking the right corridor. “Nearly there.”

Jyra’s feet were clammy and cold, but her face was hot from the effort of keeping herself upright while navigating the steep path.

After another ten minutes, Jyra heard a loud snap and light spilled into the passage ahead of Berk—he had thrown a switch on the wall. The trio stepped into a cavern that was about the size of the one with the fire pit.

The pod was parked in the middle of the room. The twin engines faced the passage.

“Take a look at her,” Berk said. “I’m going to check outside. Make sure a test run is all right.”

He strode across the cavern and up the ramp of granite. Jyra followed him to the base of the ramp. Instead of the sky, she looked up to see a sheet of ice hanging over the opening. Berk stepped out of sight between the crest of the ramp and the overhead glacier that shielded the cavern from view.

She turned her attention to the pod. Craig was already pacing around it, eyeing the small cockpit with two seats arranged side by side. The main body was rather thin. A rack took up most of the space behind the enclosed cockpit. The engines sat just aft of the rack. The nose swept off of the cockpit and finished in a fine point. Three retractable legs held the pod upright. The dull gray cowling on the machine reflected the lights on the cavern ceiling.

Jyra stared into the cockpit and the diagrams from the book Dario gave her surfaced in her mind. Toward the front of the book, she remembered the simpler flying machines.

Footsteps announced Berk’s return. Jyra broke her gaze with the cockpit.

“Is this a custom build?”

“Did most it myself,” Berk said.

“The controls are from a Class B stunt flyer, right?”

Both Craig and Berk seemed taken aback, but Berk nodded.

“Correct, I salvaged nearly the entire console from a wreckage yard. Lots of stunt pilots on Silanpre. I had to patch the right side back together.”

Jyra had already noticed the fine welded line that snaked evenly between the controls on her side of the pod.

“I think you and I should take her out first,” Berk said, walking up to Jyra.

“Yeah,” Craig said. “I was only going to ask where the ropes for the rack were stored.”

“Compartment on the side there,” Berk said, pointing at a hatch as he twisted the release lever that allowed the cockpit enclosure to swing open.

Jyra wasn’t sure where her confidence came from, but she caught her reflection in the clear cockpit dome. The Mourning Mark remained smudged on her forehead. She retied her hair and stepped into the cockpit, settling in the pilot’s seat. She heard her words from the night before, demanding action. She felt like she knew this cockpit, this machine, and all about how it worked. Her feet found the rudder pedals. Her nerves settled, replacing the feelings of recklessness and anger from the previous night. Jyra heard Berk talking to Craig, but didn’t understand a word he said.

Berk took the empty seat and pulled the dome over the cockpit. It latched with a loud click.

“He’s clear,” Berk said. “You know how to start her?”

His voice sounded distant, like he was speaking to her through the cockpit dome from outside. Jyra nodded and she reached down near her knee and pressed the starter. One click and then another echoed through the body of the pod and Jyra knew the engines were on standby. Then a roar filled the cavern. She heard the whirring of the motors over the bellowing engines that angled the dynamos to send the pod up the ramp. She eased back the lever with her left hand to retract the legs. Then she increased the engine power and they crept out of the cavern.  At the top of the ramp, she reduced thrust and the pod dropped neatly down a steep slope. Then Jyra gunned the engines and they burst out into a long valley, surrounded by mountains.

“Why didn’t you want to fly?” Berk hollered over the noise. “I’ve never seen anyone take to her so fast!”

Jyra stepped on the left pedal and the pod curved in that direction. The sheer cliffs of the mountains rushed at her, but she steered with ease and kept her hand on the engine power regulators.

“Let’s head back,” Berk said. “Give Craig a chance, but I already know who I want flying on this mission.”

In the back of her mind, Jyra knew getting back into the cavern would be tricky, but her body didn’t seem to listen. The pod soared up to the top of the ramp and glided forward, missing the glacier and the top of the ramp. Jyra rotated the machine and dropped the legs before landing.

“I guess I need to take her out for a flight in case you get shot,” Craig told Jyra.

“Shandra should be down with supplies soon,” Berk told Jyra. “Head up the passage a bit. You don’t want to be in here when we take off.”

Jyra covered her ears as the pod roared off. She wasn’t sure what to make of her skill at the controls. The seriousness of her goals, the reasons she was on Drometica in the first place, tempered the lightness in her chest and the exhilaration from flying.

Before the pod returned, she heard scuffling in the passage and Shandra and Neeka appeared carrying items for the mission. Even in the dim light of the passage, Jyra saw the shining barrels of the guns, emerging from their holsters. The sight erased all thoughts of the pod and the mission itself.

“You all right?” Shandra said.

“Yeah,” Jyra said.

“No you’re not,” Neeka said. “None of us are all right. You’ll learn to forget it, though.”

“I’m sorry about Derek,” Jyra said.

“We all are,” Shandra said. Jyra wanted to look Neeka in the eyes, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“He’s more than new motivation,” Neeka said and Jyra could tell by her voice that she was fighting to keep a level tone. “He’s more than that to me.”

“I know,” Jyra said. The roar of the pod ended the conversation and as the noise began to fade, the women entered the cavern.

Craig and Jyra were each given a gun. Jyra strapped the holster belt around her hips, hoping the firearm would never leave its snug position next to her left thigh. As though she could read her mind, Shandra said, “you’ll be firing it when we take on TF.”

Jyra didn’t respond but accepted the rolled up map of Horbson. They were given a bag that contained a couple of sandwiches and a large canteen of water.

“Here’re a couple flashlights,” Neeka said, pulling them from the deep thigh pockets of her trousers.

“Make sure you don’t try and take too much stuff,” Berk said. “She won’t fly with too much of a load. You probably can’t tie that much stuff on anyway. As long as you’re doing everything right, do everything as fast as you can, too.”

Jyra realized she expected to see him take a sip of whiskey, but his hands remained at his sides.

“Head down the valley and you’ll almost be able to see Horbson once you’re clear of the foothills,” Shandra said.

“It’s probably getting dark out there,” Neeka said.

“Are you suggesting we go?” Craig said.

“We aren’t the subtle type,” Berk said. “Go get us some food so we can make the push to get out of here.”

Jyra and Craig climbed into the cockpit and stowed their supplies behind the seats. They waved at the others as they retreated up the passage.

“I can’t quite believe they’re trusting us do this,” Craig said.

“Macnelia’s got an interesting way of building trust,” Jyra said, but her mind was already clearing as she leaned down to start the pod. Moments later, they burst into the darkening valley. Jyra stepped on the right pedal and the pod careened toward the plains beyond the foothills.

“Everyone back there’s a little strange,” Craig said once they left the mountains. “Still, it sounds like we’re heading right back where we came from.”

“Which makes me wonder why Macnelia let Derek come back so soon,” Jyra said, as she pressed on the left pedal. “If they’re heading to Tyrorken anyway, why go to the trouble of getting you and I here?”

“I don’t know what TF planned to do with you, but we had to make sure you were beyond their reach,” Craig said. “As I said before we left, you might have been sent into a mine already. As for Derek, I don’t know exactly how he kept TF from knowing about his activity with the resistance. I think he convinced them he was running prospecting missions to Drometica, which he could do in addition to checking in with the resistance.”

“When Derek delivered the letter to me, he made it sound like he worked on the rigs with Dario,” Jyra said. “He said his team was taking the day off to mourn.” 

“Could be true.”

“Derek was in charge of a team of workers and ran prospecting missions? That’s an awful lot for one person to manage.”

“I don’t know anymore than you do,” Craig said. “Until we rescue Derek, we won’t really know.”

Jyra took the hint that he didn’t want to discuss uncertainties. Instead, she asked Craig something she’d been wondering about from when she met him in his living room the night of their departure from Tyrorken.

“Why did you make me promise not to tell anyone all the stuff you told me about the resistance? We were about to leave the only planet and people I’ve ever known.”

“Secrecy,” Craig said after a brief pause. “When I made that request, we were still in a dangerous position. Had you been captured when we took off, I had done all I could to make sure you didn’t reveal any sensitive information to the enemy.”

Jyra had a sudden vision of sitting in an interrogation room, fighting to withhold what she knew. The glare of the lights bore into her eyes and anonymous agents screamed questions at her. She shook herself, trying to jostle the scene from her mind.

The clouds in the mountains followed the pod toward Horbson. An unbroken mat of gray blocked the stars. The lights of the city were visible in front of the hills on the horizon.

“Might want to drop a little lower,” Craig advised. From this distance, they could see the lights of only two vessels in the air near Horbson. The police could lock onto the pod easily, especially without other flying vehicles to interfere with tracking systems.

“A custom build like this won’t have an ID chip,” Jyra said.

“They’ve been using it for supply runs since they’ve been here,” Craig said. “I’m sure the police can track us even if we don’t have a chip. They can still see us.”

“I’m surprised they’ve managed so many getaways,” Jyra said as they cruised lower. She could see the black outlines of boulders and other features on the ground now. “How did the police manage to lose them over plains this size?”

By the time they reached the outskirts of Horbson, the two airborne vehicles had disappeared. Jyra slowed to a reasonable speed and glided by row after row of boarded-up windows. The pod flew over multiple broken streetlights. The first working one illuminated an unpaved road and someone lying facedown at the base of the pole.

“I don’t think I’ll eat the sort of food we’ll be getting from a place like this,” Craig said.

“Can you find where we are on the map?” Jyra said. Craig unfolded the map and crumpled the sides down so it would fit in the cramped cockpit.

“Let’s see we came in from the northeast,” Craig said, tracing a finger in from the plains. “Do you see an opera house?”

“Do you see an opera house or anything like one around here?” Jyra snapped.

“Just jump a little above the buildings so we can check.”

Jyra guided the pod upward. About eight blocks straight ahead they saw, through the gloom, a dome jutting above the other broken buildings. As they drew near, it was obvious the opera house was as decrepit as the rest of the neighborhood. Pieces of the dome had caved in and large timbers and buttresses had broken loose and fallen on the dirt roads below.

“Please tell me the market is far from here,” Jyra said dropping the pod below the rooflines. Craig searched the map, crumpling it more as he went.

“It is,” he said with relief. “Head southwest. It’s more central than I thought.” Jyra cruised through the streets and the buildings began to change. Fresh paint and flashing billboards replaced cracking walls and blocked windows. The streetlights were all on and although the roads were now paved, they were still empty.

“What’s that smell?” Craig said. Jyra had already noticed the odd acrid aroma. Her immediate thought was something happened to the pod. Maybe a motor overheated or a circuit shorted? No warning lights appeared before her and the pod sailed onward with no apparent trouble.

As they traveled farther into the city, they could see more of the skyline, which was nearly obscured in a thick haze.

“We’re almost there,” Craig confirmed with a quick glance at the map. He and Jyra could hardly take their eyes off the city. Both of them could tell something wasn’t right, but like Jyra’s thought that something might wrong with the pod, they chose to deny the feeling.

“What’s all over the street?” Craig said suddenly. White sheets of paper covered the pavement. The moment Craig spoke, Jyra realized the haze was actually smoke. They flew another few blocks and the pristine buildings were burning or leveled. Bodies lay in the street and people were running frantically through rubble, floods from ruptured water mains, and leaping flames.

“Head right!” Craig shouted. Jyra jammed the pedal and the pod swung down another street.

“Two more blocks!”

“You’re crazy!” Jyra yelled. “We can’t land here! This place had just been bombed!”

“You’ve got a lot to learn about completing a mission,” Craig said. “Now land! There’s a fenced lot right there!”

Seething, Jyra lowered the legs and brought the pod down, landing harder than she intended. Craig unlatched the cockpit and pushed it up. He sprang onto the pavement with his gun and flashlight already clutched in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Jyra said. With the cockpit open, the din of the crisis unfolding beyond the lot couldn’t be ignored.

“The mission,” Craig said, stalking over to the fence. Jyra followed him.

“Put the gun away,” she said.

“Jyra, we don’t know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We never did!”

“This is an outstanding situation. I’m not going to shoot anyone, but we have a job to do. Clearly, we’re going to need another plan than stealing a delivery. I’ve never been here before, but I can guarantee that shipment won’t come in tonight.”

“So why don’t we just walk into the store and take what we need?” Jyra said, scowling at the gun in Craig’s hand.

“That’s the new plan,” Craig said. “But we don’t know what’s in there, which is why we’ve got weapons. That market could hold a couple hundred people. They might have sought shelter in there during an attack. Let’s move!”

Craig pushed through the gate and crept up behind the empty loading dock. Jyra followed with her flashlight in hand. Her gun remained holstered at her hip. An explosion echoed across the city as Craig and Jyra scrambled onto the dock.

“Against the wall, quick!” Craig whispered. As they shrank into the shadows, two men ran by on the street, each armed with a rifle.

The large cargo door wouldn’t open, but the latch on the nearby the conventional door retracted when Jyra tried the knob. Just before they walked inside, the outdoor lighting on the block lost power. Had it not been for their flashlights, Jyra wouldn’t have been able distinguish inside from outside—both were equally dark.

The echo of their footsteps told them they were in an enclosed room. Jyra half expected Craig to tell her to quiet the noise of her thumping heart. She had never thought about being afraid of the dark and the flashlights provided limited comfort in the eerie stockroom. One of their beams caught a long light fixture swinging on its cord; they could see mounts where it had been attached to the ceiling.

“A…bomb blast might have knocked it loose,” Craig said. After a couple tense minutes, they found a few boxes of canned goods stacked on a hand truck.

“Let’s make a pile of things to take,” Jyra suggested.

Another box contained a few bagged loaves of bread. Craig discovered a carton of juice at the same time Jyra found several stacks of boxes that had been knocked over. A few eggs were broken on the floor. She tried to keep her voice from shaking as she spoke.

“We’re not the first ones here.”

“Keep looking,” Craig said as though he hadn’t heard her. “We’ll load up and get out of here soon.”

Something crashed on the other side of the stockroom. Jyra yelped and fumbled for her gun.

“Who’s there?” Craig said. He tried to make his voice sound deeper, but failed to quell the quivering tone.

A man stumbled out of the darkness. Streaks of dried blood ran from his bald scalp down his cheek.

“Stay where you are!” Craig warned, raising his gun.

“I’m not afraid of you,” the man said. Jyra glanced at Craig, whose arms were shaking. She wished Berk had come on the mission.

“What happened to the city?” Jyra said.

“Nilcyns hit us,” the man said, leaning back on a crate that creaked as it took his weight. “Lower your gun, boy.”

Sweat reflected on Craig’s forehead beneath his brown bangs. He lowered the gun to his stomach, but kept it aimed at the man.

“Nilcyns?” Jyra said. “What are those?”

“Trouble’s what they are,” the man said. “You don’t find interplanetary militias in this galaxy. Maybe on individual planets, but not between them. If you combine all the ships in this system, you get a lot of firepower, probably enough to tear the galaxy a new black hole.”

The man laughed but his guffaws became coughs. Jyra was sure the hand he’d used to cover his mouth had fresh blood on it when he returned it to his knee.

“Thing is, any alliance of ships, any formation flying in open space is considered hostile. There’s an unwritten rule in the galaxy that if surrounding ships witness that kind of unity, they can blast the offenders into dust. ‘Course, if a few ships team up to do that, the moment they neutralize a threat, they’d best go their separate ways. Fast.”

“I think we should probably take that advice right now,” Craig interrupted.

“If you’re ever thinking of going into space again,” the man said. “You’ll want to watch out for the Nilcyns. They are the only renegade group that’s managed to remain over time. A battle here, a battle there, their ships are destroyed and people think they’re gone. Like disease, though, they keep coming back. So does the proof. Right now, ships from this city are fighting the Nilcyns up in space. The carcasses of ships will come back to the ground and some will be marked with the Nilcyn’s insignia.”

“What’s it look like?” Jyra asked.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” the man said. He clapped his hands; the noise made Craig and Jyra jump. “Now, before the defeated wrecks come thundering down around us, how about if you help a dying man get out of here?”

“Sir, I’m sorry but we’ve got to be going,” Craig said, bending down to pick up another box.

A loud, dry click made Jyra jump again. The man had whipped out a revolver and aimed it at Craig.

“You can go, but you need to take me with you,” he snarled. “I’m not going to die in the back of a grocery store!”

“It’s hard to feel generous toward someone who’s pointing a gun at me,” Craig said.

“If you’d kept yours on me, you wouldn’t be in this mess. But when it came down to it, you probably wouldn’t have shot me anyway.”

The man stood up and walked toward Craig, keeping the revolver on target. “You’re not the type who shoots and moves on. You agonize over the decision. It haunts you, does it not? You’ll carry all the pain of your days till the last one. ”

 The flare of the light distracted the man just enough for him to turn and catch the butt of Jyra’s flashlight in his forehead. He groaned as he crumpled, his weapon clattering to concrete before him.

Craig pivoted his light to Jyra, who stood unsteadily on the spot, her arm still extended.

“Nice throw,” Craig said, kicking the man’s weapon across the room and under a set of shelves. He directed his light at the man’s body and they saw his dark shirt had a large fresh bloodstain on it. “Looked like he was dying, after all,” Craig said. He picked up Jyra’s light and clicked the button. “I think you broke it.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive me. Let’s get out of here.”

They stacked their boxes on the hand truck and wheeled them outside. The light from distant explosions reflected off tall buildings nearby, but it was too dark to even think of loading cargo on the pod.

“Let’s get everything out of there first and stack it in the lot,” Craig said. “If anyone comes along, we can barricade the gate.”

They made three more trips with the hand truck. In the rope compartment Berk had indicated on the pod, Jyra found a short cord, which she lashed around the gate latch, while Craig began untangling the thicker ropes.

“Little boxes on first so the big ones hold them on the rack,” Craig said when Jyra returned from tying the gate closed. They stacked the boxes neatly, but their nerves and the semidarkness interfered. Twice they had to pull a large container from the bottom of the pile, while keeping the unstable load upright until they could rebuild the base.

Once the cargo was on the pod, Craig and Jyra stood on opposite sides of the load and threw ropes over the boxes, cinching them to the rack. A sudden blast a few blocks away shook dust loose from the buildings across the street and caused the fence around them to rattle.

“Fire it up!” Craig shouted. “Time to go!”

Jyra leapt into the cockpit and Craig yanked on the ropes a final time, triple-checking their strength. He clambered into his seat and prepared to pull the enclosure in place. He hesitated as another noise climbed above the peripheral chaos. A small skiff shot overhead and the police markings on it were unmistakable. Craig slammed the enclosure and locked it. Jyra angled the engines, fired them and the pod burst from the ground. Craig looked to the right, the direction of the last explosion. A large fire crackled in the middle of the street.

“What is that?” Jyra cried, staring at the sky.

Craig followed her gaze. The gray clouds were no longer invisible in the night. Something lit them from the behind and the source grew brighter. Transfixed, Craig and Jyra watched the enormous mystery behind the clouds. They were returned to reality by a flash of light close at hand and an amplified voice.

“Unknown transport pod, you are ordered to land immediately and prepare to be searched.”

The police patrol that had flown over them had a spotlight trained on the cargo behind the cockpit.

“What’s to search?” Craig said with a grim smile. “It’s obvious what we’ve got.”

“The man was right,” Jyra breathed. “It’s a toasted ship.”

Craig, already preoccupied with the law upon them, took a few moments to redirect his gaze. Sure enough, the clouds were still lit up, but the source was no longer a mystery. An enormous ship was tumbling through them. The battered hull glowed a fierce orange from the stress of reentry into the atmosphere.

“Comply with orders or we will shoot you down!” the amplified voice said. Berk had been right about the police and their ineptitude; the officers in the skiff hadn’t even seen the remains of a battleship hurtling toward them.

“It’s breaking up,” Jyra said.

“We should move,” Craig said.

Jyra gunned the engines and the pod blasted forward before the officers could react.

“Now they’re chasing us!” Craig said.

“It’s okay,” Jyra said, “We can outrun them.” She couldn’t help noticing, though, that the pod was not as fast as before.

“The load’s slowing us down,” Craig said. “The police are on our tail! Get us down into the streets!”

Jyra steered the pod into a dive, but something flashed by the window and distracted her.

“Pull up!” Craig yelped. Jyra lifted the nose of the pod up just before she buried it in the pavement.

“What was that?” she said.

“What was what?”

Something else fell on Craig’s side of the cockpit and stuck in the road. He identified it before Jyra launched the pod forward to escape the police.

“It’s debris from the falling ship!” Craig said. “Get above the buildings and get us out of here!”

“The cops will get us then!”

“We’ll be crushed by the ship otherwise! Go! Go!”

Craig was right. The ship fell with such speed the air pressure on the ground beneath it was increasing. Jyra took the pod above the buildings in time to see a massive engine from the doomed giant pulverize the police skiff behind them.

“No one in pursuit!” she said. “Let’s get back to the mountain!”

They flew over the plains, staring at the destruction of Horbson. The crippled battleship landed in the middle of the city, shooting a column of white flame and dust into the air. As a spectacle, Jyra would have thought it a beautiful sight, but the death and pain it must have caused weighed on her conscience.

“I suppose it’s good we’re planning to leave soon,” Craig said.

“Unless all the ships have been destroyed,” Jyra said, her spirits falling further at the thought.

Jyra had always marveled that when traveling some place for the first time, the return journey never seemed to last as long. The trip back to the mountain was no exception. She guided the pod easily back into the cavern and parked it. The moment they opened the cockpit dome, they heard voices. Craig and Jyra jumped free of the pod and saw Berk, Shandra, Neeka, and, surprisingly, both Leonick and Macnelia.

“I got the radar working moments after you left,” Neeka said. “What’s happening over there?”

“It sounds like the Nilcyns are the attackers,” Craig said. “A huge battleship crashed into the middle of the city when we were flying home.”

“How do you know it was the Nilcyns?” Macnelia said.

“We met a man at the market. He told us that,” Jyra said.

“He told you the Nilcyns were attacking Horbson?” Macnelia said. Jyra sensed Macnelia didn’t believe her.

“He didn’t know what other force in the galaxy could be capable of such destruction,” Jyra said.

“I suppose we’ll see,” Macnelia said. “It’s a mystery how the Nilcyns continue to survive. Countless others have attempted to copy them, but they all meet their end by the cannons of flash alliances.”

“What do you mean, ‘we’ll see?’” Neeka said.

“Well, our plans seemed straightforward. First we needed food for the journey to Tyrorken, and now we need a transport to get there. We must go to Horbson, procure a functional ship, fly it back here, and load up all the provisions we can take.”

“How many people are going to get the ship?” Jyra asked.

“Not all of us now,” Shandra said. “Most people over there have other things to worry about besides ship thieves, especially if that’s a Nilcyn attack. Berk and Jyra, how about you?”

“Why me?” Jyra said automatically.

“The size of the ship we want will likely require two pilots to fly it, especially so close to a planet’s surface,” Macnelia said. “It’s not like the rest of us will be sitting around waiting for you to get back. We’ve all got a lot of work ahead of us so let’s get to it.”

Leonick was already making his way up the passage. Macnelia, Neeka, and Shandra followed. As Berk and Jyra headed back toward the pod, Craig came jogging up behind them.

“I just want to grab my sandwich and some water,” he said.

“I forgot about that,” Jyra said. “Now I want mine.”

They dug them out from behind the seat. Berk walked around his pod, inspecting it as well as the cargo. “Once you two have finished eating and drinking, you can help me unload the boxes.”

Craig and Jyra ate quickly, but Berk already had half the load on the cavern floor. They finished the rest of the lifting and stacking.

“Where’s the other flashlight?” Berk said. He’d started cleaning out the cockpit.

“I threw it at the man who told us about the Nilcyns,” Jyra said sheepishly. “He had Craig at gunpoint.”

“Got confused?” Berk said. “That thing throws harder than you can.” He pointed at the gun at her hip. Craig looked at his own weapon and began loosening the belt.

“I suppose you’ll want this?” he said.

“No, I’m fine,” Berk grunted. He threw back his head and emptied his flask into his mouth. “I can throw harder than those things.”

They all laughed and Craig finished taking the holster off and held it out.

“No, seriously, I’m all right,” Berk said. “Keep it for now.”

“See you soon,” Jyra said.

“Good flying,” Craig replied. “And mission accomplished.” He leaned forward and pulled Jyra into a one-armed hug and whispered, “you better come back.”

“I will,” she said, feeling a familiar sense of denial. “I wouldn’t want to miss going back to the home world.”

“Let’s go before I crack open my next flask!” Berk said. Craig and Jyra turned and saw Berk already seated in the pilot’s seat. Jyra gave Craig’s arm a squeeze before jogging to the pod and jumping into the seat. Craig waved and retreated into the passage as the engines began to roar. Berk’s massive hands glided over the console, tapping and pulling the necessary controls. He brought the pod smoothly out of the cavern and into the dark valley. By the glow of the instrument panel, Jyra caught sight of his bare wrists and she remembered.

“I made it back. You have to tell me about your tattoo.”

“I reckon I do,” Berk said.