Force over Distance: Chapter 45

How many more were they gonna have to take down?

Chapter warnings: Stressors of all kinds. Loss of autonomy. Physical injuries. Boundary violations.

Text iteration: Midnight.

Additional notes: None.

Chapter 45

Volker’s phone provided the only light as they passed through ductwork into a narrow chamber lined with the front ends of FTL cells. The space was large enough to fit the modular components that lined the drive chamber, so there was room to stand. They sped up, keeping their footfalls as light as possible.

They moved from starboard to center, tracing the aft line of the drive. It didn’t take long to return to a powered up region of Destiny. As the team passed back into blue emergency light, they came to a halt.

“This is where we part ways,” Volker whispered.

Young leaned into the nearest bulkhead and rode out a wave of vertigo. When it passed, he found the other three looking at him in concern. He nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, then took the lifesigns detector from Scott. He offered it to Brody.

Brody shook his head. “You guys’ll need it more.”

“There’s hardly any activity in this part of the ship,” Volker said.

“For now,” Young replied. “As soon as you bring that drive online they’ll descend on your position like you wouldn’t believe.”

Brody and Volker looked at one another.

“Keep it.” Brody handed it back to him.

Young took the device. “Watch your backs.”

They nodded and vanished around a corner, heading deeper into the drive.

Young and Scott locked eyes.

“CI room, I guess?” Scott asked. “With Telford coordinating—the Nakai have taken Command HQ.”

Young studied the screen. It showed the same four human dots, accompanied by six Nakai. “Telford’s not coordinating anymore,” he said grimly.

There was nothing, nothing that Young wanted more than to move on the CI room and pull Rush the hell out of there.

Tentatively, he gamed it out. Say he and Scott rearmed. Say they made it to the room through the Nakai patrols. Hell, say they, somehow, just the two of them, took it back.

Holding it would be difficult. Making it out with their personnel? Damn near impossible. The ship was crawling with Nakai, and, even if Greer, Telford, and Eli were all in great shape, which seemed unlikely, they couldn’t drag Rush through the walls. The scientist was so far down not even the end of the world would wake him.

Hopefully, that’d be enough to protect his mind from the Nakai, but Young wasn’t at all sure it was gonna work that way.

He scanned the lifesigns detector for clusters of his own personnel. Four fought to hold the bridge. Eight guarded the cavernous cathedral of the FTL drive. Four held the chair room. Two teams retreated through the halls, just ahead of Nakai patrols. In the mess, there were more people than he’d have predicted. He counted dots.

It looked like the team Telford had left to protect the mess had pulled back inside it.

Better than a massacre.

Better than a rout.

The mess had Park. Bill Lee. Whomever the hell else Telford had brought. They had tactical intel. They had manpower.

“We move on the mess,” Young rasped reluctantly. “We’ll cut down their numbers, and we need more manpower take the CI room.”

“Who’s this?” Scott pointed to a pale blue dot operating on its own.

Young studied it. He watched it hover in a cross corridor as a party of three Nakai passed it by. It moved into the main corridor space, and the three Nakai dots blinked out. “Gotta be Varro,” Young said.

“Could be James,” Scott replied. “She has an SOF background.”

Young shook his head. “I posted her in the mess. No way she goes rogue with a room full of people depending on her.”

“If it’s Varro,” Scott said, “do we try to get to him? Join up before taking the mess?”

Young sighed, studying the intervening corridors, the positions of Nakai patrols. “No,” he decided. “Lieutenant, we gotta go now.”

“Yes sir,” Scott said, his voice admirably level. “There’s only one entrance to the mess.”

“Science Team’s gonna be knocking down some walls after this,” Young growled.

“Yes sir,” Scott murmured.

“And then I’m damn well going on leave.”

Scott’s wan smile turned genuine. “Where you gonna go?”

“My quarters, lieutenant. Let’s move.”

They headed for the mess, creeping along dim hallways, avoiding Nakai patrols. They edged around corners and into cross corridors, trying not to draw any attention to their presence. All they had to do was take out the two Nakai at the door, and the four inside. Do it fast enough, get the door shut, gain a few minutes for organization, and, maybe, they’d hold it.

They’ll tear through the crew, Chloe’d said, weeks ago, on a stolen shuttle.

Young clenched his jaw.

It was possible they’d lose people in this assault.

It was possible they already had.

He fought the urge to sit down right where he was and start counting lifesigns.

They slipped through the last grid of halls and found themselves in a cross corridor a few yards down from the entry to the mess.

The door to the room was open. Two Nakai stood outside, their hands on plasma rifles.

It was a callous, casual position. As though the room was a low-value target. Maybe, for them, it was. A few weapons. No controls. Just people.

Young hoped to god they thought of it that way. He’d take every strategic advantage he could get.

Young’s eyes flicked between the screen in his hand and the open doorway.

For a room full of people, the mess was hideously silent. Young strained, but he couldn’t catch even a hint of human breathing, of coughs, of the shift of clothing, of the thousand tiny movements a room full of people should make. Scott, too, listened, his brow furrowed. His uneasy gaze met Young’s.

A scream tore through the air.

Young threw a hand across Scott’s chest to prevent him from rushing forward.

It was Wray.

Wray was screaming like someone was ripping her soul out of her body. Young tried to focus on the lifesigns detector in his hand, noting the positions of the Nakai within the room, but it was hard, because Wray was still screaming, and all he could think of was the way she’d hauled back on his arm in the showers, how he’d dragged her forward without meaning to, her bare feet skidding on the floor.

To hell with it.

Young stowed the detector in his jacket. He unslung his plasma rifle. He nodded at Scott.

Scott nodded back.

Together, they exploded from the cover of the corridor. The Nakai at the doorway were dead before they had time to get off a shot, but Young could feel their frail, dying thoughts like the wings of butterflies over raw skin, warning the others. Warning the ones in the room.

Young cleared the doorway, the lieutenant just ahead of him.

“DOWN ON THE GROUND,” Scott roared, taking the one clear shot they had at an isolated Nakai on the border of the room.

Young sealed the door. Two Nakai came straight for him, their hands out, pale in the dim light, reaching for his temples, their thoughts stretching into his mind. He saw a shot and took it. The kickback of the energy weapon reverberated down his injured arms. One Nakai hit the deck. The other kept coming.

James sprang out of a crouch, weaponless, launching herself at the thing, tackling it to the floor.

“Get back,” Scott shouted to the civilians. “Against the far wall!”

Wray was still screaming.

From the corner of his eye, Young saw someone charge the Nakai holding Wray. Whoever it was took one hell of a hit.

He couldn’t get a clear shot. Not at the thing that had Wray and not at the thing that had James. The lieutenant was beneath it now, its hand closed around her throat. She was trying to scream as it tore into her mind, but no sound came.

He saw Scott start for Wray, fighting through the confused mass of civilians.

Young flipped his plasma rifle and smashed it into the Nakai atop James. He pulled it off her, reversed the weapon, and shot it. He switched rifle for sidearm and sighted down the barrel at the last of them. The one holding Wray.

Again, he didn’t have a clear shot and he—

Hesitated.

The thing locked eyes with him, hissing in satisfaction, as if it’d understood something important. Young felt its thoughts fold outward, painful against his own, transmitting information, broadcasting to every Nakai in range, until—

Varro smashed the thing to the ground with a stolen plasma rifle. The former Lucian Alliance operative kicked the Nakai away from Wray and shot it.

“Secure the room,” Young shouted. He scanned the space, looking for any outstanding threats. He didn’t see any.

The mess was theirs.

And then—god. He didn’t know where to turn first.

He dropped to his knees beside Wray. She was closest, and she was alone, the center of a cleared circle.

Young brushed the sweep of dark hair away from her face, one hand behind her neck as he turned her onto her back. He’d been sure she was unconscious, or worse, from the way she’d been lying crumpled on the floor.

But she wasn’t.

Her eyes were open, so bloodshot he couldn’t see their whites, but the tears that leaked from their corners ran clear. Her expression twisted with pain, with grief. She tried to turn away from him, a shaking hand pressed to her face.

“Camile,” he murmured. He ran his hands over her shoulders, her arms—checking for injuries, broken bones, blood loss.

“I’m not hurt,” she said, blood dripping from her nose, one hand pressed to her eyes.

Young pulled her up and wrapped his abraded arms around her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

It was only because her mouth was a few inches from his ear that he heard her say, “Sharon.”

“Shh.” As he held Camile, he watched Becker hover over James, his hands on her shoulders, talking to the lieutenant as she drew in high-pitched, gasping breaths, both hands at her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Wray said into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I told them. Everything I knew. Everything I am—”

“It’s okay.” He stroked her hair. “It’s fine. No one can fight that, Camile. They know it all anyway.”

“No,” she breathed. “They didn’t.”

“Not your fault,” he said. “Not your fault.”

“They know about the AI,” she whispered. “About Nick. They know what the chair did to him. They know about you, how important you are—” she broke off as her throat closed.

“Who cares?” He gave her a wan smile.

“I’m sorry.” Wray vibrated with the effort of controlling her tone. “This is my fault. I pulled James into the room. I gave myself up to them—” her voice broke.

“Pretty sure you did all that to save lives,” Young said. “And you did.”

Wray nodded against his shoulder.

Carefully, he lowered her back to the deck. She looked up at him, her skin pale, covered with a thin sheen of sweat, the whites of her eyes a terrible, bloody red.

Young scanned the faces in the room. He picked out Park, not far from his position. He caught her eye and motioned her over with his head. “Park,” he said, as she approached. “You okay?”

Park nodded.

“Where’s Chloe?” Young asked.

“Chloe’s not here,” Park said, her expression pained.

God damn it.

“Where’s Telford’s team?” Young asked.

“They’re here. Camile had us split up. Hide the laptops.” Park scanned the room.

“Good idea.” Young looked down at Wray.

She nodded, tears still leaking from her eyes.

“Park,” Young said, “you’re acting head of the Science Team. Camile’s gonna help you as much as she can. You two stick together. Scramble Telford’s team. Set up in a corner. We cut power to the gate. Volker and Brody are trying to manually restore FTL down in the guts of the drive. Help them. Monitor for hull breaches. Gather intel. Get some kind of system in place so you can see human lifesigns. Start doing what you can. Open doors. Shut doors. Seal compartments. Hell, vent compartments. Telford was using kinos to communicate before the CI room fell. It was a good idea. Set up your own network.”

Park nodded, her expression solemn. “I can do that.”

Wray’s icy fingers closed over Young’s wrist with a blaze of agony. “Where’s Rush?”

“CI room,” Young said. “He’s next on the list.”

“Hurry,” she rasped.

“That’s the plan.” Young stood, met Scott’s eyes, motioned him over, then dropped into a crouch next to James. “Lieutenant?” he asked her.

“I’m okay, sir,” she said, drawing slow, pained inhales. Bruises were already visible in an irregular ring around her neck. “Barnes took a bad hit. Trying to help Wray.”

Young nodded. “Soon as you can stand, get Wray and the Science Team set up at the back wall. I’m guessing it won’t be long before the Nakai try to retake the room.”

James nodded, gamely pulling her feet beneath her. Young moved to Dunning and Becker, who hovered over Barnes, trying to cut open her melted BDUs to get a look at the plasma burn.

“Hey, corporal,” Young said, pressing her back as she tried to sit, her eyes glassy. “Take it easy.”

“Shit,” Dunning hissed under his breath. “Shit.”

Young shot him a sharp look, then helped him ease back the sliced-open jacket. Across the corporal’s left side and back there was a wide, bleeding energy burn that had seared away part of her skin and melted her surrounding clothing into the edges of the wound. The burn was broad and glistened ominously under the emergency lights.

“Not a full blast,” Young said mildly. “That’s good.” He looked up at Becker and Dunning. “Get her to the back wall.”

His head snapped up at the grinding sound of the door controls.

The Nakai were trying to break in.

Young pulled out his lifesigns detector. Fifteen of them, maybe more, had massed in front of the doors. It was hard to tell. The red dots clustered atop one another.

He’d expected this.

Just not so soon.

“Scott,” he shouted, his voice carrying over the buzz of conversation in the mess. “Tables!”

The lieutenant began barking orders, organizing a team to flip and drag the metal mess tables into an impromptu barricade.

Young stood, and the room spun. He might have fallen if it hadn’t been for Varro. The LA operative caught his elbow, steadying him.

“You with us, colonel?” Varro asked.

Young nodded. He took a breath. “We’re about to have a pitched battle in here.”

“Looks like it,” Varro replied, his eyes on the doors.

“You know where TJ is?” Young asked.

“Word is that Telford ordered her to the infirmary. He thought it would be low on the tactical importance list, so he made it the base for his runners. He left her a kino. But she’s holding it alone.”

“Okay,” Young growled, trying to keep a lid on the spike in his temper. “That’s A Choice.”

Another ominous grinding sound came from the doors.

“Civilians to the back!” Young shouted. “Wounded to the back! Everyone with a gun and still able to shoot? Report to the barricade.”

After a scramble for positions, Young found himself kneeling next to Scott, behind an overturned table. As they watched, the mechanism in the wall made a low, grinding sound. A few inches of blue light appeared through a crack in the doors.

On the lifesigns detector, Young eyed the lone blue dot on his monitor. It was approaching the mess.

“Colonel,” Scott whispered. “You didn’t see Chloe anywhere, did you?”

“No,” Young said.

“Thank god,” Scott murmured. “She must be in the infirmary.”

“Yeah.” Young looked uneasily at the screen in his hand.

The door ground open a few more inches.

“We’ve got wounded,” Scott said, “but no known casualties. Not yet.”

“Anyone get interrogated?” Young asked. “Besides Camile?”

“No.” Scott came to his knees and rested his gun on the upper edge of the table. “Don’t think so. But I heard that thing was at Wray a long time. A very long time.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

The door ground open a few more inches.

Young’s hands tightened on the Nakai weapon. He brought it to his shoulder, bracing it between a gap in the tables.

Varro brought his weapon up. “Any second now,” the other man muttered, sighting down its barrel.

Through the narrow gap in the tables, Young saw icy blue fingers wrap around metal molding.

With the shriek of metal-on-metal, the doors gave way and the Nakai poured through.

The sound of energy weapons discharging was deafening. The blasts burned streaks across Young’s vision as they impacted the walls, the Nakai, the tables.

A few paces down the line, Reynolds took a blast to the helmet. James and Becker dragged him back. James came forward, armed with Reynolds’s handgun. The clip had to be almost empty.

The Nakai pressed forward, hissing, screaming in rage, in anger, in fear—Young couldn’t tell. They crossed the open space, laying down so much fire that the metal tables slid toward the huddled civilian line.

In the hallway outside the room, Young heard the unmistakable sound of a single assault rifle pulling a flanking maneuver on the Nakai.

The table in front of Young vanished, heaved across the room by the first three Nakai to reach their position. Young fired a broad burst at close range, knocking them back. They were thinning enemy numbers. He could see it.

Would it be enough?

“HOLD THE LINE,” Young roared, knowing if they broke ranks the Nakai would have a straight shot to the civilians. He stood his ground, shoulder-to-shoulder with Varro and Scott.

Across the room, in the open doorway, a dark silhouette slipped into the shadows near the back wall. Single shots echoed from the periphery of the room.

And, incredibly, no Nakai turned. None of them went for the sniper.

The adjacent table was yanked sideways, exposing James, Baras, Chu and Dunning. He heard the click of James’s empty clip.

“James,” Varro yelled. He slid his plasma rifle along the floor, then pulled his knife from his belt and closed with the nearest Nakai. Young shifted his firing pattern to cover him, stepping forward to get a better angle.

A blow from the base of an energy weapon smashed into his jaw, knocking him to the floor.

Stunned, he struggled for footing. But it wasn’t happening. There was a long-fingered hand closed around his ankle.

He was being dragged out of the line.

Into the midst of the Nakai.

A single shot from behind dropped the Nakai that had a grip on him. It released him as it collapsed on top of him, its blue-tinged blood soaking his uniform, running over the side of his neck, into his hair before he scrambled back, and up, and away.

Scott’s hand closed around his upper arm, hauling him off the floor and back into formation.

In his peripheral vision, Young saw Baras take a blast in the thigh, falling back with a strangled cry. The corporal was hauled back, and, this time, Becker dove through the gap. He grabbed the table and repositioned it without getting touched.

How many had they killed?

How many more were they gonna have to take down?

There was no question about it. The Nakai were laying down way less fire than they should be. It was like they were trying not to kill people.

With a thrill of horror, Young realized that was probably true. That’d probably been true all along.

He forced himself to refocus. His breathing tore at his throat. Beside him, Varro, still fighting hand-to-hand, began to slow.

In a coordinated press, three Nakai converged on Young and made another attempt to pull him out of the line. Hands curled into his jacket, unnaturally strong, unnaturally cold—

Varro hauled him back as Young brought his weapon up, firing a broad burst.

“They’re after you,” Varro shouted, as he helped Young find his feet.

Young nodded.

Single shots continued to ring out with impunity from the edge of the room. James, Chu, Dunning, and Becker laid down cover fire from behind their table. As the Nakai presence in the room thinned, Varro repositioned the second table.

And then, finally—

The Nakai stopped coming.

Young gasped for breath. He collapsed into Scott, who tried to take his weight but couldn’t keep his own footing. They buckled to the deck.

“Cover the door,” Young shouted. His voice cracked. “We need to secure this room.” He forced himself to his knees, to his feet. As soon as he was vertical, he headed for the sniper at the side wall.

Chloe stepped into the light to meet him.

Her chin angled up. One cheek was streaked with dirt or blood, tear tracks visible through the grime. She’d found herself a Kevlar vest. Two sidearms. An assault rifle.

“C’mere, kiddo,” Young said, pulling her into a hug, laughing once in relieved disbelief, the sound muffled by her hair. “My god. What the hell are you doing?”

Her arms tightened around him. “I’m okay, colonel,” she said, her voice wavering. She pulled back to look up at him. “Did you know it was me?”

“I thought it might be,” he murmured, his hands on her shoulders. “But I wasn’t sure whose side you were gonna end up on. You holding out against these things?”

Chloe dropped her eyes and nodded. “I was going after isolated groups on the edges. Trying to stay undetected. But then I felt them massing near the mess—” she shrugged. “I thought I’d risk it.”

“I’m glad you did,” Young said, “but—Chloe. What the hell. They weren’t coming after you.”

“There’s a trick to it,” she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. “They left so much in my head. I just—pile it on top. Not underneath. They don’t see me as different.”

“You okay?” Young asked. “You’re sure?”

Chloe nodded. “Colonel, I passed the observation deck earlier and the other two Nakai ships have dropped out. It’s hard to tell distances, but I’d say they’re only a few tens of kilometers to port. Right on top of us. I don’t think they’ve boarded.” Her eyes flicked away to take in someone behind him.

“Have they taken anyone off the ship?” he asked urgently.

“Not that I know of,” she replied. “The last I saw, they hadn’t launched any craft. I can feel—across the distance—I feel their thoughts. I think the other ships are standing by. Gathering intel. Like us, they have limited resources. Like us, they’re far from home.”

Again, her eyes flicked away from him, out into the room.

“Go on.” He gave her a small shove in Scott’s direction and watched her incredulously for a moment before pulling the lifesigns detector from his pocket. Their battle had made a significant dent in enemy numbers. He took stock.

Thomas still held the chair room.

He held the mess.

The team in the FTL drive was alone.

He saw TJ in the infirmary, a solitary light.

Blue dots in twos and threes and fours traversed the corridors, pursuing or being pursued by Nakai patrols.

He saw Volker and Brody, in the center of the aft FTL cells, working on the drive.

The bridge—the bridge was lost. There were no human lifesigns there. Only Nakai.

In the CI room, four Nakai prowled the space. Two blue lifesigns were together in the middle of the room. Two were at computer stations, a Nakai lifesign right on top of them. Maybe Greer and Rush were the two in the center of the room? Did that make sense? Rush wasn’t conscious. He couldn’t be at a station. It had to be Telford and Eli.

Young took a breath. The back of his mind ached. Deep. Raw. Strangely settled.

“You,” he murmured, staring at the CI room, “need to hang on. For about twenty minutes. That’s it.”

He swept his eyes over the mess, sizing up personnel. He paused on Scott. The lieutenant had his arms wrapped tight around Chloe. Her assault rifle was on the floor.

He gave them a five count.

Then he shouted, “Scott, Chloe, Varro, Becker, James, Dunning, Evans, Chu. Form up.”

They jogged over. “Airman, lieutenant.” He looked at Chu and Evans. “You’re gonna organize defenses here. Work with Park. After we move out, you shore up the doors, set up a line, and see to the wounded. Telford’s science guys are supposed to be Ancient tech experts. See if you can get them to fix the door. If you can—shut it and seal it. I don’t wanna come back here to liberate the damned mess again, you got that? So you hold it.”

“Yes sir,” Chu replied.

Evans nodded crisply. “Understood,” she said.

Young hoped to hell he hadn’t given them an impossible task.

“Everyone else, find a weapon. We’re moving on the CI room.”

Scott looked at him in surprise, his eyes flicking to Chloe.

“Chloe,” Young waved her in. “You think you can hold out against them if we get into close quarters for a long period? Maybe pull your new trick?”

She looked at him solemnly. “I’m not positive. If more than one of them focused on me—” she trailed off.

“I don’t want a repeat of what happened last time,” he said. “If you feel you’ll be compromised, I want you as far away from these things as you can get. You go. No matter what’s happening, you clear out. Got it?”

“Got it,” she confirmed.

“Sir.” Scott closed shaking hands over the strap of his plasma weapon. “She’s a civilian.”

Young didn’t much like it either, but he needed every advantage he could get.

“I’m not a civilian,” Chloe said. “I’m on the Science Team.”

Scott nodded, but his expression cracked. He brought a hand to his face. He paced away a few steps to pull himself together.

“Damn right you are,” Young said, looking Chloe in the eyes.

She gave him a small smile.

Scott rejoined them, his expression set. “Sorry sir,” he said. “Sorry Chloe.”

“She’s in better shape than you at the moment, lieutenant,” Young said. “And she’s probably taken out as many of these things as we have. Our odds go up with her on the team.”

“I’ll be fine, Matt,” Chloe said, her hand on his arm. “I can sense them.”

“You can what?” the lieutenant rasped.

“I can sense them,” she repeated. “Ever since they changed me. It’s how I avoided capture.”

“And how you made your way to the armory.” Young stuck two fingers into the collar of her too-loose vest. “That Kevlar’s a little big on you, though. With all the tiny women on this ship, we gotta start stocking extra small jackets.”

Chloe gave him a ghost of a smile. “Where’s Rush?” she asked. “Where’s Eli?”

“CI room,” he said, watching Dunning and Becker pull energy weapons off dead Nakai. “Both of them.”

“The Nakai have taken that room,” Chloe whispered.

Young nodded. “Yup. We’re gonna take it back.”

“They’ll know we’re coming,” Chloe said. “I passed the room on my way here. They’ve sealed the door.”

“Rush ever show you his trick for hot-wiring an Ancient doorway?” Young asked.

Chloe shook her head. “I should’ve asked. It’s something we all should know. Volker can do it. Greer. Neither of them are here.”

“What about Park?” Young asked.

“I’ll go ask,” Chloe said.

“Wait,” James rasped, her voice shot to hell. She stepped from behind Scott’s shoulder. “I can do it. Greer showed me.”

Young hadn’t even noticed she’d joined them. “You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure, sir.”

“We gotta treat this like a hostage situation,” Scott said. “We could force our way in there only to find everyone at gunpoint. We need flash grenades. Tear gas. Would tear gas even affect the Nakai?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Young said. “We’ve got crates of the stuff from Homeworld Command. We just have to get to it.”

Over the next few minutes, his assault team formed up, outfitted with the best weaponry they could find.

“Is it me, or are these things a little transparent?” Dunning eyed his plasma rifle.

“Yeah,” Young said. “Ignore that.”

“You up to this, colonel?” Varro asked as he joined the group. “Not sure if you’re aware, but you took a hit to your back. There’s blood coming through your jacket.”

“Looks worse than it is,” Young said.

“You could sit this one out,” Varro suggested.

“I don’t think so.” Young swept his gaze over his small team. “Listen up, people. We’re heading for the CI room. Four of our people are inside in unknown condition. There are six Nakai in the room with them. We’ll try and gain the upper hand by using a combination of tear gas and flash grenades, but it’ll be tough. The light’ll be low, and the tear gas will cloud everything. I want everyone extremely clear on one thing: no friendly fire. You fire only if you’re sure you’ve got a clean shot.”

He got nods all around.

“Let’s move out,” he said. “Scott and Chloe on point.” He handed Chloe his lifesigns detector. “Our first stop is the cargo bay where we’re stocking backup supplies from Homeworld Command. Keep us clear of Nakai patrols.”

“Will do,” Chloe said.

Young positioned himself at the rear. James fell in at his side.

As his team slipped into the hall, he saw one of Telford’s people studying the door mechanism, his brow furrowed. He was a short, balding man, who looked like he had no business in the field.

On this ship? The guy could join the club.

As the team filed past, the scientist looked up from the door mechanism and wished James good luck.

“That’d be Dr. Lee?” Young asked.

“Yes sir,” James said.

As they filed through quiet corridors, Young felt the ache at the back of his mind intensify. There was a distant sense of pressure. Deep and strong.

The Nakai were trying to break into Rush’s mind.

Young was sure of it.

He hoped unconsciousness was a defense, rather than a weakness. He hoped having half his self split off and fused to the AI would protect the man from forming memories of whatever was happening to him. He hoped, in the end, with the help of the chair, he and the AI could pick up the pieces when this was over.