Aftermath
Ava was beside herself. She tried to open the shuttle door, but it would not budge.
It had been sealed by the captain’s orders, the AI informed her as she yelled at it to comply. She raged at the machine, but short of performing a full reset, she would not be able to override the command.
Kane must have given the order privately, not trusting her to keep her head down if things became too dangerous.
She screamed again and punched the hull.
Ava sank to the floor, sobbing and replaying every moment in her mind. She had seen it all from the safety of the shuttle.
Of the sixteen guards who had come to the drop site, only three remained.
She was proud of her team, but she should have been out there with them.
She blinked the tears from her eyes as she noticed a flashing icon on her HUD.
Her team’s vitals.
Ethan, Juarez, and Peters.
Juarez and Ethan were still in the yellow. Peters was showing a flashing orange.
Ava scrambled forward on her hands and knees, trying to get as close to Ethan through the wall as she could.
He was slumped against the hull, but she could just make out that he was, in fact, breathing.
She cursed herself for not adding her father and Isaac to the team display on her HUD. She had felt it was wrong for stupid, sentimental reasons, and now, with the captain-ordered lockout, she lacked the clearance to change it.
Kane had locked her out of the shuttle’s systems, her suit’s comms, and its sensors. The only displays she still had access to were those that had already been programmed into her suit before the lockout.
Still, Ethan was alive.
Juarez and Peters were alive.
Isaac and her father had to be as well.
Just then, she saw Felicity walk around the crate. The woman hadn’t even unholstered her weapon during the entire engagement.
She placed her hands on her hips and appeared to be laughing.
Felicity’s external speakers activated.
She
was
laughing.
“‘They are attached.’ Oh, I do like you, Captain,” she said as she regained control of herself and surveyed the damage. “A good showing. A very good showing. I thought to myself, six at most. But here we are with a final tally of thirteen. That is quite good. Wherever you’re from, perhaps we should begin recruiting there.”
She laughed again.
A small flatbed transport emerged from the base and rattled down the sandy trail toward the drop site. The ten people aboard jumped off and ran toward the fallen figures in red suits.
“Leave them. Those were kill shots. That one there”—Felicity pointed toward a fallen figure—“and there”—she indicated another—“are the only two we can save.”
She turned toward the remaining three guards. It was difficult to tell whether they were male or female because of their ill-fitting suits. They all seemed similarly built.
“Collect our guests and get them the medical attention they require. Make sure the captain receives a comfortable room. I imagine I will be spending much of my time with him.”
Felicity turned away from the desperate scene and strolled back up the dirt trail toward the base.
Ava watched her go, her desperate grief replaced by helplessness as the surviving guards gathered her people and the two injured personnel Felicity had identified before speeding back toward the base entrance.
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Two people remained behind.
They walked from body to body, firing two shots into each faceplate before working together to drag the corpses out of the way by their feet. They left the bodies just beyond the reach of the lights.
The heavy-duty crane moved forward, and two workers climbed onto the artifact’s crate to attach the central lifting hook. The crate was raised, deposited onto the large flatbed transport, and carried away.
One by one, the remaining red-suited men and women returned to the base.
After a while, Ava saw people emerge from the darkness at a brisk jog before disappearing through the personnel entrance. She counted each of them until she was certain she had seen all ten.
Only two remained.
They milled around the shuttle.
Ava stood in a firing stance, waiting for them to open the hatch, but it still would not budge.
After a while, she relaxed slightly. They seemed to be conversing over private comms.
Ava watched as they turned toward an approaching pair. They exchanged some form of communication, and the first two set off toward the base while the newcomers approached the shuttle.
One carried a data slate, one of the thick models she always saw the engineers using. With a slate like that, it was possible to run diagnostics on ship components or transmit command prompts.
Ava’s blood ran cold.
She raised her rifle and quickly checked how far the other two had gone. They were still nearby, within earshot if she fired.
Just then, the drone lighting shut off, plunging the drop site into relative darkness.
The shuttle’s external lights remained on, but they seemed dim compared with the floodlights from before.
The two people outside hardly appeared to notice.
One remained beside the hatch, furiously typing into the data slate, while the other began circling the shuttle and inspecting the craft, paying particular attention to its sensor array.
When Ava saw the second person move away around the shuttle, she allowed the bullpup rifle to hang from its sling.
She drew her seven-inch survival knife and held it in a forward grip in her dominant right hand.
Ava rehearsed the movement in her mind.
Step forward.
Drive the knife into the man’s neck.
Grab him with her free hand and pull him into the shuttle.
She ran through the process again and again as she waited.
She focused on the man working with the data slate.
Focused on the seam in his suit where the helmet seal joined the body.
The weak point.
The target.
Her heart raced, and she forced herself to take slow, controlled breaths.
The shuttle’s power flickered and reset.
The hatch opened.
Ava stepped forward and, with all the strength she could muster, drove the tip of her knife into the neck of the man standing in the doorway, data slate still in hand.
With her free hand, she grabbed the front of his suit and yanked him hard into the shuttle as he toppled.
When she stabbed him, she felt something in his neck snap, and his head fell backward. His entire body seemed to go limp, and she was barely able to catch and pull him inside as he collapsed.
The shuttle lights had not returned after the power reset. Someone would need to activate them manually or order the AI to do so.
It was pitch black.
Ava pulled the knife free from the dead man’s neck, thankful that she could barely see the blood coating the blade.
She considered stepping outside and attempting to sneak around the shuttle, but she saw the flicker of a flashlight approaching from the far side.
If she went out now, she might run directly into the other man and be forced into a struggle.
Instead, she grabbed the body at her feet and heaved it clear of the doorway toward the pilot’s chair.
Then she returned to the hatch and took up a position on the aft side of the opening.
The man with the flashlight returned to the shuttle’s hatch, shining the beam through the doorway.
He stepped inside, his light trained on the floor and the trail of blood streaking toward the fore of the shuttle.
His body was turned away from Ava, his head angled toward the corpse of his partner.
Ava slipped forward, grabbed his helmeted head, and yanked it backward.
With her other hand, she drove the knife into the side of his neck and forced it forward until the blade tore free through the front.
Ava did not pause.
She took the still-powered flashlight from the second corpse and used it to inspect both bodies for useful equipment.
From one, she recovered the data slate.
From the other, a ring of keycards.
Neither had been armed or appeared to be carrying anything beyond what they expected to need to break into and move the shuttle.
Ava accessed the shipboard AI.
It was still in reset mode.
She was able to register herself with captain-level access.
She ordered the shuttle into lockdown until she returned, then stepped outside and sealed the hatch behind her.
She was going to get her family back.
She promised herself that, even as her hands began to shake.