The door hisses open, and four TDF troopers march into the room, clad head to foot in tac armor, carrying disruptor rifles. The young lieutenant I spoke to in the Sagan station airlock is leading them, stopping to survey the puddle of water on the floor, my soaking uniform, one eyebrow raised behind her visor.
“All right, Legionnaire.” She smiles. “If you’ll come with us, we’ll debrief you and have you and your squad back at Aurora station in time for chow.”
I glance at Scar again, looking for her impressions. I’m not exaggerating when I say she can read people like books. It’s kinda scary sometimes. I haven’t been able to lie to her since we were five years old.
She looks the lieutenant up and down.
Glances at me.
Pouts.
Lying.
I can feel the tension around me. Cat’s hands in fists. Kal’s icy fury, staring at these soldiers who just murdered a hundred of his people but are acting like nothing’s wrong. I’m not sure how good Finian or Zila will be in a free-for-all, but there’s six of us, four of them, and if they think I’m the kind to just march to my own murder, they don’t know me too well.
I stand up with an easy smile, dimples on high beam.
“No problem, LT,” I say.
And I bury my elbow right into her throat.
Her tac armor absorbs most of the impact, but it’s enough to send her off balance. I kick her in the knee and she hits the ground, disruptor flying from her grip.
The room explodes into motion, the three TDF troopers aiming their weapons at my chest. Kal rises up behind one and stabs with outstretched fingers behind her ear, and the trooper drops like she’s been hit with a dose of Leirium rocksmoke. Cat tackles the third, wrestling for control of his rifle, and Scar hurls the empty water cooler bottle at the fourth’s head, sending him back into Finian, whose exosuit whines as he grabs him like a vise.
I snatch up the fallen lieutenant’s disruptor rifle, bring the butt down into her face, her helmet skewing crooked as the blow lands. We fall to wrestling, the LT knocking the rifle aside. She lands a knee in my crotch and the whole world burns white with the pain. Flipping me onto my back, she manages to draw her sidearm from her belt, raising it to my head.
A hand takes hold of her jaw and three fingers stab the side of her neck. With a sigh, the LT topples off me, eyes rolling back in her head. Above me stands Kal, violet eyes narrowed. Not a single silver hair is out of place on his head. He’s not even out of breath. Wincing at the ache in my groin, I look around the cell. The other three TDF troopers are scattered like broken toys.
They’re all out cold, I realize. Battered and bloodied, bones broken. Scar, Cat, and Finian are looking at our Tank, half-awed, half-terrified, all silent.
“I don’t want you to think this means I like you, Kal,” Cat finally says. “But okay. I’m officially impressed.”
“Did it just get hot in here, or is it me?” Scarlett asks.
“It’s not just you,” Finian mutters, fanning himself.
The Syldrathi offers his hand to me.
“We need to move, sir.”
I realize this is the first time Kal has offered to touch me since he slugged me back at the academy. And knowing it’s a big deal for a Syldrathi to allow themselves to be touched at all outside of combat, I figure I should accept the offer. I take his grip, and he hauls me to my feet. I’m trying not to look at the bleeding soldiers around me. The bleeding human soldiers. My mind is racing, looking for a way out of this.
We’re outnumbered a hundred to one. The GIA have Auri in custody. They have our Longbow locked down. But I’ve studied Terran space vessels since I was six—I know the layout of a destroyer backward. And though this pack of losers and discipline cases and sociopaths might’ve been the last picks on anyone’s mind during the Draft, turns out none of them are bad at their jobs. If I can hold this together, get us working as a team, we might even make it out of this alive. …
An alarm starts blaring, an announcement spilling over the PA.
“Security to detention cell 12a. Security to 12a immediately.”