Page 28 of Warrior’s Mate

Chaos because no one had expected the exercise to become real.

Shelter marshals shouted assignments. Children from the nearby school were being moved below the grain administration building. Market vendors abandoned stalls and carried food crates toward shelter entrances. Three medical workers dragged portable treatment packs from a service bay.

Maelis jumped from the transport before Kaiven had fully stopped it.

"Torren!"

She turned. Administrator Baret ran toward her, pale and breathless.

"Regional network is gone."

"Local?"

"Working."

"Good. Keep it local. No routing outside district unless we authenticate the node ourselves."

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because messages are being diverted."

"By the Sargans?"

"I don't know."

She did not say Consortium yet. Kaiven had come to stand beside her, while Baret looked at his uniform as though authority itself had finally arrived.

"Captain, should we evacuate?"

Kaiven glanced at Maelis, a small movement she nevertheless noticed. He could have answered Baret without consulting her.

Instead he said, "Show me the strike map." They hurried inside. The operations floor had lost one wall screen but the rest remained functional. Maelis pulled up the district. Three confirmed impact zones.

The pattern resolved as soon as she saw the three confirmed impact zones: the eastern communications ridge, the landing field, and a power substation north of the market. These were not random strikes.

"They're hitting infrastructure," Kaiven said.

"Not shelters."

"Not yet."

Maelis enlarged the attack paths.

"What does that mean?"

"It means either they want the population trapped, or they want something here intact."

Her stomach turned. The Sargans were slavers.

"People," she said.

Kaiven's eyes met hers. Neither spoke for a moment. Then he turned to Baret.

"Begin evacuation of exposed eastern sectors using Torren's six-stream plan. Do not send everyone toward the central roads. Shelter southern quarter in place until we know the attack pattern."

Baret nodded and started issuing orders. Maelis moved to the registry station. She had spent years arguing that civilian logistics was not lesser work simply because no one wore medals for it. Now every imperfect record felt like a life.

"School Four?"