The elites are helpless, floating, trying desperately to orient themselves in zero-G while we pick them off one by one. Their personal shields weren’t designed for omnidirectional fire—they have forward arcs, blind spots, vulnerabilities that are nakedly exposed when you remove their ability to position themselves.
I aim for the power couplings. Suki aims for the helmet seals. We don’t have to aim perfectly—we have all the time in the world to line up our shots.
The floating elites drop one after another, their bodies going limp, weapons drifting away.
“THEIR TACTICAL FREQUENCY ENCRYPTION IS ALSO PATHETIC,” Zip adds, sounding deeply offended on a professional level. “I HAVE ACCESSED THEIR COMMAND CHANNEL. THEY ARE, QUOTE, ‘VERY UPSET ABOUT THE GRAVITY SITUATION.’ ALSO SEVERAL ANATOMICALLY IMPROBABLE SUGGESTIONS REGARDING MY PARENTAGE.”
“Tell them we’re just getting started,” I say, dropping another elite who’s trying to use his dead squadmate as cover.
The last floating soldier goes still, and Zip restores gravity with the casual ease of someone flipping a light switch.
The bodies hit the deck with meaty thuds.
For a moment, blessed silence. Just the sound of our breathing, harsh and fast. The distant thunder of weapons firefrom elsewhere in the fortress. The slow, patient crawl of the upload bar—now at 42%.
“That was actually kind of fun,” Suki says, checking her rifle’s charge.
“Don’t say that. You’ll jinx—”
Another wave pours through the breach.
“Oh,come on,” I groan.
14
Breach
Polly
Thesecondwavelearnedfrom the first wave’s mistakes.
They come in low, shields overlapping in a testudo formation that doesn’t give us clean shots. They hug the walls, staying out of the corridor section Zip already compromised, their movements cautious and deliberate.
“They adapt fast,” Suki says, dropping back as concentrated plasma fire hammers our position. The obsidian table is holding, but I can see stress fractures forming in the stone. “Gotta respect the professionalism. Also, really hate it.”
We’re pinned. They’re advancing. On the main screen, the upload crawls past 43%, but it might as well be 3% if we’re dead before it completes.
I pop up, fire a burst to keep their heads down, drop back as return fire scorches the air where my head just was. Through the bond, I feel Rynn—still fighting, still alive, but there’s an edge to him now. Strain. The fight at the generators is getting worse.
Hold on,I send, though I don’t know if he can spare the attention to feel it.Just hold on.
“So,” Suki says, her voice absurdly casual for someone in a firefight. She’s checking her rifle’s charge, her hands steady despite the plasma fire raining around us. “The glowing thing.”
“What?” I fire blindly over the edge of the table, more to keep them cautious than with any real hope of hitting something.
“The bite mark on your neck. It glows.” She pops up, snaps off three precise shots, drops back down. “I noticed in the hangar. Is that a sex thing or a biology thing?”
“Suki.” I stare at her. “We are literally in the middle of a firefight right now.”
“And? Multitasking is important.” She grins at me, wild and bright, and there’s something in her eyes—the Suki I remember from the Cassian Nebula runs, the one who laughed in the face of danger because the alternative was breaking down. “Come on, Rocket. I’ve been stuck on this rock for three years with awarlord who communicates primarily through growls and really athletic sex. I needdetails.”
Despite everything—the combat, the danger, the distant ache of Rynn through the bond—I laugh. This is us. This is what we do. We talk through the chaos because it’s the only way to stay sane.
“It’s both,” I admit, rising to take a shot at an elite who’s gotten brave. He drops, clutching his leg. “Biologyandsex. The mark is where he bit me during... you know. It creates a permanent bond. I can feel him right now. Not thoughts, but his emotional state. His... temperature, I guess?”
“That’s either incredibly romantic or incredibly exhausting.”
“Little bit of both.” I duck as return fire shatters the obsidian near my head, hot shrapnel peppering my arm. “What about Henrok? Any weird biology surprises?”
