The sun was a pale, distant coin, barely risen above the horizon, its light strained and thin as it pressed through the frost-streaked glass. Beyond the window the world unfolded in endless starkness\u2014white stone and ice, ridges thrown flat beneath the merciless clarity of the Arctic. The sky was flawless, bleached of cloud or blemish, but the wind never ceased. It scoured the plateau in long, hollow gusts, rattling against the pod until the walls themselves seemed to tremble, as if the structure felt the cold and shivered in protest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna sat at the edge of her narrow cot, the therapy helmet heavy in her hands, still carrying the ghost-warmth of its circuits. Noon, though the light could have been dawn or dusk\u2014here, winter erased the difference. She pressed her fingertips to her temple, chasing at a headache that never loosened its hold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sessions helped, but always too little, always too late. Three weeks had passed since the collider\u2014three weeks since the blast that had left her broken. The delay in treatment had buried the damage deep where no quick repair could reach. They called it moderate to severe, as if measured words softened reality. It was a traumatic brain injury. A career ender. The truth was harsher than any report: no one could rewind those hours, no one could undo what had rooted itself inside her skull.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They had promised recovery. Promised the helmet would make a difference. Yet each morning was the same: waking into a fog that clung to her, a lurch of dizziness if she moved too quickly, a sharp edge of anger that lay too close to the surface. Some days its sudden arrival frightened her, how easily fury came. Other days she clung to it, the heat of it reminding her she wasn\u2019t numb yet, not entirely gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her hand drifted to the scar cutting across her scalp. The medics had called it superficial. The mirror disagreed. Each time she caught her reflection, the mark stared back like a verdict, refusing to fade. Worse than the scar were the absences\u2014the jagged gaps where memory should have been. The attack replayed in fragments, disjointed flashes that refused to form a whole. She remembered walking her rounds that morning. She remembered Rowan\u2019s voice for an instant. Then frozen images, flashes until the aftermath. Everything else she \u201cknew\u201d came from replayed footage: ships descending through fire and smoke, angles her own eyes had never seen. She\u2019d watched them take captives\u2014though that word was scrubbed from reports, bent until it snapped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The feelings hadn\u2019t faded with memory. Sadness struck without warning, heavy and blinding, as sharp as if death had played out in front of her. Anger came like a stormfront, tearing through her before she could brace against it. The episodes were rarer now, but when they hit she was helpless, pulled under by a current she couldn\u2019t fight. The medics had explained it away: chemical misfires, the brain struggling to reroute. Patience was required.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Patience\u2014something she had once commanded easily\u2014felt like a stranger now. Her jaw tightened. She had been outmaneuvered, and the truth burned. She had built a team from the ground up, disciplined, loyal, sharp\u2014and still they had failed. Some were dead. The mission was meant to be simple: protect the asset, preserve the research, extract if necessary. Science first. Morality had lingered in the background then, an echo she ignored. But the attack had not been chance. It was deliberate. Coordinated. An enemy with organization and purpose. She couldn\u2019t allow it to stand. They would regroup. They would return to the mission.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Drawing a sharp breath, she pressed the call button on the wall. The door slid aside a moment later, and Mel Rienhardt stepped into the room. Combat uniform still on, blood dark across the fabric\u2014some of it hers, maybe, she wasn\u2019t sure. His hair was cropped close, jaw freshly shaved, every movement carried with precise intention. He lived by order; even here, it showed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow are you feeling?\u201d His voice was calm, but weighted, as he reached for the helmet. He set it on the shelf with careful hands, then drew a small light from his pocket. Lianna squinted as he shone it into her eyes, her pupils chased by the sharp white beam. The stab of brightness pierced her skull, and she flinched. He nodded, unsurprised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re still showing normal outward signs. The sensitivity should pass soon.\u201d She frowned. He had said it would be \u201csoon\u201d for days. Her hand rose instinctively to her temple, fingertips tracing the ridge of scar that still felt foreign against her skin. Mel\u2019s eyes caught the motion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs that giving you trouble? Pain, pressure\u2014anything unusual?\u201d She shook her head, slow and deliberate. \u201cNo. Just a reflex. I keep touching it without realizing.\u201d He studied her face for a moment longer, measuring more than her words, before sliding the light back into his pocket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow are my scans?\u201d she asked at last. She aimed for steady, but the faint tremor of hope betrayed her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mel\u2019s eyes softened, though his tone held steady, clinical. \u201cMinor improvement. Like we\u2019ve talked about, if we\u2019d reached you sooner, the damage wouldn\u2019t have set. But you went nearly four hours without proper intervention. There were tools on site, but\u2026 we regrouped here. Recovery is going to be\u2026 unique to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A bitter laugh escaped her throat, short and sharp. \u201cUnique,\u201d she echoed. Her gaze drifted to the helmet on the shelf\u2014the promise of healing contained in plastic and wiring. She wanted to believe it, to believe him, to believe anyone. But the truth pressed heavy behind her eyes, throbbing with every beat of her heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mel pulled a slim pad from his chest pocket, fingers moving across the screen. Above them, a low hum stirred the air as a medical arm descended from its housing. Polished joints unfolded with insect precision, the faint glow of its scanner painting pale arcs of light across the pod walls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna didn\u2019t wait for instruction. This was routine now, ritual. She leaned back against the cot, exhaling as though surrendering to inevitability. Each morning began this way. She closed her eyes and listened to the device whisper and rotate, felt it comb unseen lattices through her skull\u2014mapping nerves, charting impulses, cataloging flaws she could never see but could feel in every moment of weakness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The scanner gave a soft chime, then withdrew as smoothly as it had come. Lianna opened her eyes in time to catch Mel\u2019s face shifting as he scrolled through the results. A furrow in his brow. A pause. A breath held too long. And then the sigh. Deeper this time. Heavier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her chest tightened. \u201cDid you find something?\u201d The words came too sharp, betraying the pulse of anxiety rising in her throat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mel shook his head, but his eyes didn\u2019t quite meet hers. \u201cNo. Nothing new. But there\u2019s almost no change compared to the last few days.\u201d He tapped the pad once, lowering it to his side. \u201cIt looks as if the field equipment\u2019s done all it can. Without proper facilities\u2014real medicine back home\u2014the road ahead is going to be slow. And hindered.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slow. The word rattled through her like stone against glass. She shut her eyes, and her thoughts slipped\u2014not to the mission, not to the base, but to her sister. It had been far too long. Distance was always easier than explaining why she stayed out here, why she kept walking into fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat would that look like?\u201d she asked finally, though she already knew. She wasn\u2019t leaving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mel hesitated, gaze sliding to the far corner of the room, as if the answer lingered there. He drew in a breath, heavy and reluctant. \u201cYou\u2019d have options. Stem-cell scaffold infusions. Neuroplasticity simulators. BCI-guided rehabilitation. State-of-the-art.\u201d He rubbed a hand along his jaw. \u201cBut they\u2019d take months to bring full results.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She shook her head before he had even finished. Months were a currency she didn\u2019t have. \u201cAnd they\u2019re not guaranteed,\u201d she said flatly. He let out a breath that carried resignation, but no argument.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need to get back to the mission,\u201d she said. The words felt hollow even as they left her lips, but she forced herself to stand. The motion unleashed a sudden wave of dizziness, the floor tilting beneath her. She gripped the cot until it passed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mel\u2019s hand twitched, as if he meant to steady her, but he stopped himself. His voice carried the steadiness instead. \u201cYou\u2019re not in any condition to lead. You need rest. Recovery is what you should be focused on. A brain injury doesn\u2019t heal under stress.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her jaw locked, teeth grating against the truth she refused. \u201cI\u2019m still in charge,\u201d she snapped. \u201cYou\u2019re just a low-rank medic.\u201d The words hit. His eyes dropped from hers, sliding toward the wall. Whether it was deference or disapproval, she couldn\u2019t tell. Regret pricked at her anger\u2014it wasn\u2019t like her to strike out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he finally spoke, his tone was measured, careful. \u201cYou\u2019re going to have symptoms for a while. Possibly forever, if you push too hard. Dizzy spells. Confusion\u2014worse some mornings than others. Mood swings you won\u2019t be able to control. Anger. Sadness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She drew a long breath and let it out slow, steadying herself against the truth she didn\u2019t want but couldn\u2019t deny. He wasn\u2019t wrong. He was trying to help. And still, her head moved in a small nod as the last trace of dizziness ebbed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need to get to work,\u201d she repeated, this time with iron in her voice. She brushed past Mel and crossed to the door. The panel slid aside with a hiss, revealing the narrow passage to the adjoining unit. She didn\u2019t look back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The base was nothing more than a scatter of linked pods, airlifted into place by heavy VTOLs before the mission began. Their first fallback had been near the collider itself, but after the attack, command had shifted them here\u2014Devon Island. Once it had been NASA\u2019s proving ground for Mars habitats, a rehearsal for survival in places no human was meant to live. Now it was theirs. Smaller, tighter, less secure than what they were used to, but it held.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next chamber opened wider, its bare walls pressed into service as a briefing hall. Rex stood near the display, arms folded across his chest, posture carved from stone. Viktor and Kendra sat together off to the side, their silence thick with weight. Mel trailed behind her, while Terry Anderson and Cyril Fenrik\u2014Rex\u2019s men\u2014kept uneasy vigil near the doorway. A handful of others lingered, but the circle was mostly officers, leadership, those who mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The air was dense, coiled with something unspoken. Eyes cut toward her as she entered\u2014some guarded, some weary, some sharp with expectation. She felt their gaze press against her like static, but she forced it aside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need a plan,\u201d she said, her voice cutting into the silence. \u201cThree of ours taken. The mission damaged. And all for three scientists?\u201d Faces shifted, glances traded like whispers. Fatigue showed in their eyes, cracks of doubt bleeding into the edges of discipline. She ignored it. Hesitation had no place here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhere did we track them?\u201d she asked, turning to Kendra.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra folded her arms, expression unreadable. The pause was slight, but Lianna caught the ripple of silent glances before moving on. \u201cCoran. Status.\u201d Coran\u2019s fingers moved across the console, steady and precise. The wall display lit in response, a three-dimensional map blooming into place. \u201cIt\u2019s online now,\u201d he said, eyes on the data. \u201cStable link.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The map expanded, their own position flaring red, the collider behind them marked in muted gray. From that point a trajectory stretched northward, curving out toward the sea until it anchored on a single, pulsing icon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna stepped closer, frowning. \u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAn icebreaker,\u201d Coran replied flatly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her brow furrowed. \u201cAn icebreaker? Cargo hauler? Science vessel? They still use those?\u201d Kendra answered, her voice clipped. \u201cUnclear. What we do know is this\u2014the strike team that hit us deployed from that ship. And they returned to it. It\u2019s not a simple research vessel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Beside Coran, Talia turned in her chair to face her. Delta Squad\u2014she and Coran both. Specialists at pulling truth from noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been combing through logs,\u201d Talia said, voice level. \u201cRegistry traces back to Norway. On paper, it\u2019s a documented research mission\u2014multi-year deployment, northbound toward the magnetic pole. The official purpose: charting radiation density tied to solar events.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words hung. Silence thickened. Whoever had struck them wore legitimacy like a mask, and they all knew it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s where we need to go,\u201d Lianna said at last, her voice hard, steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No one moved. Talia\u2019s eyes flicked toward her once before sliding back to her console. It was Mel who broke the quiet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe\u2019re not in position for anything,\u201d he said. \u201cYou\u2019re still recovering, Lianna. It\u2019ll be months before you\u2019re close to yourself again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The anger surged up fast, hot, beyond control. \u201cI\u2019m in command,\u201d she snapped. \u201cYou\u2019ll do what I say.\u201d Mel\u2019s lips pressed thin, but he said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rex unfolded from his chair, the motion deliberate, his presence filling the room. The lines of his frame shifted like coiled wire as he stepped forward. \u201cHe\u2019s right,\u201d he said, voice low. \u201cThat isn\u2019t our mission.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna held his gaze. For a heartbeat, the thought flashed\u2014what it would take to break him, to bring him down. Then it was gone. He wasn\u2019t wrong. The mission had never been revenge. The assets mattered. The science mattered. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhere are Albert and Theodore?\u201d she asked, her voice cooled to steel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Across the room, Viktor stood rigid, grief hollowing him. He had lost two of his own\u2014Adrick Kennedy and Murdock Easton\u2014and his voice was flat, scraped clean of emotion. \u201cThey\u2019re fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She read the silence in his eyes, the weight he wouldn\u2019t give voice to. And then the door slid open. Albert stepped in, loud, too casual.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou break the news yet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tension cinched taut. Heads turned, no one answered. Rex folded his arms once more, posture closed, unreadable. A pulse of pain beat at Lianna\u2019s temple, dizziness sweeping her again. She caught the back of a chair and lowered herself slowly until the spinning dulled, though the ache remained.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How could they finish the mission if even this room stood against her? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert chuckled at the silence, his grin sharp. \u201cWell, don\u2019t everyone speak at once. Strong, silent types in a room together. Real party killers.\u201d He turned to her, tone slicing. \u201cLianna\u2014you\u2019re out. Was that so hard to say?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra shifted uneasily. Viktor stared at the floor. Rex didn\u2019t move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s voice rose with a brightness that rang false, cheer sharpened into mockery. \u201cNothing personal. But you cost me money. And I don\u2019t take kindly to that. So, yes, I guess it is personal.\u201d He drew a cigar from his pocket, struck the flame with casual ease, and let the smoke coil upward as he paced past her chair. He exhaled the first cloud directly into her space. \u201cYou didn\u2019t bring much to the table anyway. Overpromised. Underdelivered.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna straightened, jaw tight. \u201cI\u2019m in charge. You contracted us to keep you from harm. Consider yourself protected.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s laugh cracked through the silence\u2014harsh, delighted, cruel. He leaned close, blowing another stream of smoke into her face. \u201cYou\u2019re not my commander. I bought you. You\u2019re a toy I own. And unlike a broken toy, I can\u2019t take you back.\u201d His grin widened, carving deeper into his face. \u201cBut I can replace you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words struck like a fist. Replace her\u2014replace all of them? Her anger surged, body moving before thought. She rose to her feet, standing eye to eye with him, her right eye twitching as she fought the urge to strike. Fury pressed to the edge of control. \u201cRex. Viktor. Escort him out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert didn\u2019t flinch. His grin held steady, calm, deliberate. He took another long drag, then blew smoke across her face again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRex,\u201d he said smoothly, never breaking eye contact with Lianna. \u201cRemove her. Let her keep a shred of dignity\u2014if she\u2019ll take it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a breath she expected defiance from her team, some word in her favor. Instead, a hand clamped around her arm\u2014iron, unyielding. She twisted sharply. \u201cWhat are you doing, Rex?\u201d His features were carved in stone, eyes hard. \u201cLet me go! I order you to unhand me!\u201d Her blood boiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rex didn\u2019t move. His grip was steady, his voice flat but not triumphant. \u201cDon\u2019t fight it. We\u2019ve been tracking your recovery. You\u2019re not fit to lead.\u201d Her heart hammered in her chest. \u201cWe? You don\u2019t get to sideline me. A vote must be done\u2014and unanimous!\u201d She snapped the words, though her gut already knew the truth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra stared down at the floor. Viktor\u2019s jaw tightened, refusing to meet her eyes. Albert reclined into a chair with the ease of a man settling onto a throne, grin widening at the spectacle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSorry, Lianna,\u201d Albert said, his voice laced with mock softness. \u201cBut I\u2019ve found someone more capable. No hard feelings. Rex will be busy cleaning up your mess.\u201d He puffed another plume of smoke, watching it curl and spread into the stale air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s eyes burned. \u201cWe fulfilled our objective\u2014protecting you. That was the contract.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s sneer cut across her words. \u201cAnd what of the mission? It wasn\u2019t just guard duty. It was to complete, to see it through.\u201d He leaned closer, his grin fading as his voice dropped into a low rasp. \u201cYou\u2019re babbling about revenge. Three prisoners who were never meant to be there are gone. I had use for them, but that\u2019s done. And when things got messy\u2014you ordered everyone to flee.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tip of his cigar glowed as he drew another breath, the smoke thickening the room. Lianna pulled against Rex\u2019s grip, but his hold was iron.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s tone shifted, quieter, sharper. \u201cYou disappoint me, Lianna. You were the best. The one who never failed, even when it cost you everything. You would\u2019ve died to see a mission through. But this time? You let your people die. You abandoned the mission. And now you\u2019re abandoning the contract.\u201d His eyes narrowed, grin gone. \u201cYou\u2019re incompetent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words crushed her anger, broke it apart like glass. Rage still clawed at her, begging to fight, to tear him down with her bare hands. But despair rushed in, suffocating, filling the hollow his words had carved out. Three dead. And it was her fault. She had lost comrades before, but this was different.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s grin returned, widening as her silence stretched. He took it as victory. \u201cThere it is. The weight of failure, finally catching up. But I\u2019m generous. Forgiving. I won\u2019t let your catastrophic mistake tarnish my name.\u201d He flicked his cigar onto the floor, ash scattering. \u201cYou\u2019re free to go. A one-way ticket to\u2026 wherever people like you fade away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s lips parted to strike back, but Rex\u2019s grip shifted, tugging gently at her arm before she could speak. \u201cI\u2019ll take her down,\u201d he said. His voice was steady, not unkind. \u201cWe\u2019ll be back tomorrow at the latest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra looked up, her voice low. \u201cI can move her out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Rex studied Lianna for a long moment, then gave a single nod. \u201cDo it. Remote operations will run from here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert turned toward Kendra, voice casual as though nothing in the room had just fractured. \u201cHow far out is he?\u201d Kendra checked her sensors, eyes flicking across the readout. \u201cHe should be landing there now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Albert\u2019s grin sharpened. He turned back to Lianna. \u201cPerfect timing. And before you ask, Kade\u2014out of the kindness of my heart, I paid you in full.\u201d He blew another deliberate stream of smoke in her direction, the grin widening. \u201cLooks like that knock to the head has earned you an early retirement. You\u2019ll be low class, sure\u2014but that comes with certain\u2026 benefits. Maybe pop out a few kids before you die alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words clawed under her skin, but she forced the reply down, biting back the retort that burned at her throat. She had already lost the mission; she would not hand him the satisfaction of watching her break. She turned toward the door. Rex released her arm without protest, but she could feel his presence close behind, a shadow dogging her steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They moved in silence down the corridor. Outside, the ships hovered in the frost-bitten air, their cargo bays sealed to the hangar proper. Stacks of crates lined the walls, supplies staged for months of survival if needed. The door closed behind them, sealing Albert\u2019s smoke and poison words away, but not their weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside the hangar, Rex finally spoke. His voice was low, carrying no malice. \u201cNo hard feelings. It\u2019s business. At full health, you\u2019re more than capable. But the scans\u2026\u201d He trailed off. Lianna stopped, waiting. He met her eyes. \u201cThey\u2019re not promising. Mel told you what he had to, but without real help, you\u2019ll only degenerate further.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words pressed like a stone against her chest. She nodded once, sharp, unwilling to give him more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra caught up, moving to the cargo door panel. A few keystrokes, and the bay opened with a hiss. Aldin was inside, bent over a crate, struggling with a stubborn strap. He looked up, breath misting, and called out, \u201cAlmost ready.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna paused at the threshold. Bitterness curled across her tongue. The primary objective had been met\u2014Albert and Theodore were safe. And yet she was the one being stripped of command, exiled with those willing to follow her out. Her gaze cut to Rex. \u201cI\u2019ll remember this. Tell Viktor the same.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra lowered her head, eyes on the floor. No denial. No defense. Just silence. Lianna stepped onto the ramp, anger rising inside her with nowhere to land.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her vision blurred suddenly, the floor pitching sideways. She caught the frame of the door, forcing the words out before anyone could move. \u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d Straightening, she walked the ramp. Aldin\u2019s eyes lingered as she passed, but he said nothing. She was glad he wasn\u2019t among the leadership. She\u2019d get a debrief from him later, when it mattered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Kendra followed her aboard, while Rex lingered behind. \u201cGood luck,\u201d he said, voice flat but not unkind, before turning away. His absence left her hollow. The doors remained open as Kendra moved toward a seat near the cockpit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The cargo bay swallowed her in its silence. The air felt heavy, pressing on her temples, amplifying every symptom. She was alone. \u201cIt\u2019ll be a bit,\u201d Kendra said softly. \u201cA couple more will join us. You can settle in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna drifted forward into the cockpit, lowering herself into the pilot\u2019s chair though she had no intention of flying. The viewport stretched ahead, a pale ice field under brittle light. She heard the quiet shift of Aldin lowering himself into the seat beside her. She didn\u2019t look at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not doing anything stupid,\u201d she said, flatly, cutting off the concern she knew was there. Her fingers slid across the console, pulling up the roster. One by one, she deleted the fallen. Each name disappeared into silence. Her eyes stopped on one. Sara.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It had been years. Too many. She couldn\u2019t even recall how many, only that their last words had been sharp, their distance easier than explaining why she\u2019d stayed away. She felt the sadness stir like a wound reopening. Her hand hovered, then pressed connect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The cabin hushed. The tones pulsed through the speakers, each one hanging in the air. Even Aldin understood\u2014he rose and withdrew to the cargo hold, giving her the space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A voice answered, startling in its familiarity. \u201cHello?\u201d It was Sara\u2019s voice\u2014but younger, higher than she remembered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s heart stumbled. \u201cSara? It\u2019s Lianna.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence stretched. Then\u2014\u201cThis is Kelly. I\u2019ll get her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her stomach dropped. Kelly\u2019s voice was older now, steady, almost grown. The years blurred, disoriented her. The last she remembered, Kelly had been eight. Jena would be close in age too. Both teenagers now. Maybe adults. Time had slipped, stolen while she was away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Another voice filled the line, one she could never mistake. \u201cLianna?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her chest eased for a breath. Despite the ache, she smiled. \u201cIt\u2019s been a while.\u201d The words caught in her throat. Memories crowded close\u2014good ones, dark ones\u2014and for a moment she couldn\u2019t continue. The silence between them stretched until Sara inhaled, breaking it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt has. I haven\u2019t heard from you in what\u2026 eleven years?\u201d Her tone was sharp, teetering between disgust and resignation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna blinked, searching for a memory recent enough to anchor her, but nothing came. Time refused to arrange itself. \u201cIt feels like it\u2019s only been a couple\u2026\u201d Her voice trailed, the words collapsing under the weight of disbelief. Months, maybe days\u2014that\u2019s how it felt. At last she conceded, quieter. \u201cYears.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the other end came a sigh. \u201cIt feels that way to you. But Kelly grew up believing you died. Jena didn\u2019t know you long enough to remember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words cut clean. Lianna tried to summon their faces, but the years blurred them. \u201cHow old are they?\u201d she asked, almost dreading the answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A pause. \u201cKelly is legally an adult now, though she doesn\u2019t act like it. Jena is fifteen, following close in her footsteps.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Despite herself, Lianna felt a smile tug at her lips, imagining what they must have overcome in her absence. The smile faltered as old promises returned\u2014their childhood dreams of land, of families side by side, of becoming something larger than life. Promises now long broken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry for not being there,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sara sighed. \u201cYeah, well, tell that to Mom and Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words cut deeper. Lianna remembered the day they died, the rupture in the scramjet\u2019s fuel line, the fire that consumed the craft in a burst of liquid flame. She had seen the footage replayed endlessly, as if repetition could etch permanence into grief.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sara\u2019s voice pulled her back, edged with dismissiveness. \u201cSo\u2014are you in trouble? You need something? Or is this just guilt?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s first impulse was to defend, to snap back. Instead, calm spread through her like a wave, silencing the reflex. \u201cI\u2019ve been injured,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The line went quiet. She knew her sister was sorting through the words, testing them against her own emotions. Lianna continued. \u201cCaught in an explosion. Head wound.\u201d She let the admission hang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sara inhaled, then released a sigh. \u201cHow bad?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Relief flickered through Lianna at the question, at the shift in tone. \u201cModerate to severe. I\u2019ll need specialists if I want any chance of reversing the damage.\u201d She wasn\u2019t even sure why she was sharing\u2014maybe because this connection was one of the few her mind still clung to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sara sighed again. \u201cSo it is about you. I figured you wouldn\u2019t just call to catch up or check on us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna closed her eyes. Sara wasn\u2019t wrong; selfishness had defined her before. But something was different this time, and she wanted her sister to hear it. \u201cI need your help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The words lingered in the silence. Another sigh on the line, but no immediate answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThe dizzy spells\u2026 the memory gaps,\u201d Lianna forced herself to go on. Her breath caught, but she pushed through. \u201cI need you to be an anchor for me while I recover.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sara\u2019s pause was shorter this time. \u201cHow long?\u201d Her voice carried caution, but also a sliver of hope. \u201cA month. Maybe two. It depends on the assessments.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence again, though Lianna could hear the decision already forming. At last Sara spoke. \u201cOkay, Lia. One month. But if you disappear\u2026\u201d She let the threat dangle, unfinished. The meaning was clear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be taking off soon,\u201d Lianna promised. \u201cShould be in your area by tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When the connection clicked silent, Lianna was left tangled in mixed feelings. She was returning to a past she had nearly forgotten, stepping into a space where she no longer belonged. She remembered leaving with a plan\u2014certain, confident. Now she returned broken. Like a toy, discarded and replaced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Turning slowly in her chair, she caught Aldin watching her from the corner, pretending disinterest. He glanced away. She rose, forcing her voice steady. \u201cKendra. Take me to my sister\u2019s, she\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBelay that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The voice cut through the cargo bay. Lianna turned. Theodore stood framed in the entry, hands clasped behind his back, glasses perched snugly on his narrow nose. Coran was beside him, silent, unreadable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her frown deepened. Theodore was always like this\u2014difficult to track, slipping in and out of rooms without sound, a shadow of Arnold\u2019s bluster. Where Arnold could be heard in every corner, Theodore could vanish into silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before she could speak, he continued. \u201cI\u2019ve been reviewing your incident. While my business partner doesn\u2019t share my view, I believe we can still help one another.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s frown held. She glanced at Coran, then at Kendra\u2014but neither spoke, their faces offering no answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI think I\u2019ve had enough of this arrangement,\u201d she said flatly. \u201cI\u2019ve already lost too much.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore stepped forward, adjusting his glasses with the same meticulous touch as always. \u201cThis isn\u2019t another run-and-gun operation. I need information. And as it happens, you\u2019ve been burned. Officially killed in action. Which means no one is looking for you\u2014unless your sister proves talkative.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Confusion twisted in her gut. She had nothing left to offer, even as a ghost. \u201cShe has nothing to do with you,\u201d she said, the threat clear in her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore\u2019s grin returned. \u201cStop. I\u2019m not here to threaten. And I\u2019m not here to demean. That strike against us was no small crime syndicate. It was larger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna shook her head in instinctive refusal, unwilling to give ground. \u201cThey\u2019re right. I\u2019m not about revenge. I was outmaneuvered. And now I\u2019m out of service.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore chuckled, low and measured. \u201cSo you\u2019re giving up? That doesn\u2019t sound like you. Your record paints you as a fighter\u2014different from the rest. Outmaneuvered, yes. Wounded, yes. And now you\u2019re retreating into the life you once ran from? Almost as if a part of you enjoys the defeat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Heat coiled in Lianna\u2019s gut. He knew nothing of her. \u201cThree people under my command are dead because I didn\u2019t see what was coming. I have irreversible brain damage that will have me second-guessing myself for the rest of my life. My squad abandoned me\u2014chose Albert and his psychotic end over me. There\u2019s nothing left here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She slammed her fist into the wall beside her. Pain reverberated up her arm, rattling through her elbow, but she kept her face stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore only nodded as she spoke, expression calm, no trace of fear or anger. \u201cYou call it defeat,\u201d he said softly. \u201cI call it fate. An unseen victory.\u201d His grin followed, not cruel this time\u2014almost reassuring, though no less unnerving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna narrowed her eyes. He wasn\u2019t making sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThose four prisoners,\u201d Theodore continued, \u201cthe ones in custody under U.S. jurisdiction. They were the key. Specifically\u2014the three who were rescued.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her head tilted slightly, but she gave nothing else away. Half-formed statements didn\u2019t deserve reaction. She had learned that much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore broke eye contact at last, turning toward Kendra with a nod. She flinched\u2014just barely\u2014but it was enough. A reflex she couldn\u2019t hide. Lianna\u2019s stomach sank. Kendra was working with him. The walls closed in. She had walked into something already set in motion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you agree to help,\u201d Theodore went on, \u201cI have a team en route with equipment to reverse the worst of your damage. You\u2019ll never be whole. But ninety, ninety-five percent\u2014possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her pulse quickened despite herself. She tried to mask it, but Theodore\u2019s eyes flicked knowingly, catching the shift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the job?\u201d The words slipped out before she could stop them, and anger stirred at her own weakness. She wasn\u2019t supposed to be easy to read.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore\u2019s smile widened. \u201cSimple. Information. Now that we know their location, this \u2018scientific experiment\u2019 no longer interests me. What matters is what they\u2019re hiding. Your role is to gain their trust\u2014and steal it. Kendra and Coran are already with me. Aldin will follow.\u201d He turned deliberately to Aldin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Aldin hesitated, gaze flicking to Lianna. For a moment his loyalty wavered in the open, before he finally admitted, \u201cI go where you go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna felt the weight of it but gave no outward reaction. \u201cAnd after this job?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore adjusted his glasses with precise fingers, smiling fully now. \u201cAfter this, you\u2019re free. Your sister, your nieces\u2014you. None of you will ever have to work again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her face remained still, but inside she bristled. Too many promises. Too little evidence. Arnold had at least paid her despite failure\u2014Theodore\u2019s word was far thinner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFine,\u201d she said at last. \u201cWhat exactly are we looking for? Who are they?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His grin sharpened. \u201cAn encrypted drive aboard that ship. Everyone knows the name Nightshade, but few understand the depth of their ties.\u201d He studied her closely, eyes tracing every flicker of reaction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThey\u2019re extremists,\u201d Lianna answered slowly, recalling fragments of intelligence. \u201cEnvironmental militants. Violence as their tool.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPrecisely. What isn\u2019t known,\u201d Theodore said, leaning forward, \u201care the scientists and technologies they\u2019ve aligned with. That\u2019s what I want\u2014their data. Knowledge is my currency, not power or money. I leave that to the loud mouths.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Her eyes drifted to Kendra and Coran, both giving subtle nods of confirmation. Then to Aldin, still watching silently, resigned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow do they fit in? And my in?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore\u2019s grin widened again, a teacher about to reveal the next lesson. \u201cThey\u2019ll be your wings. Your eyes.\u201d He turned his gaze to Aldin. \u201cAnd your shadow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna steadied her voice. \u201cWhat\u2019s the plan?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSimple,\u201d Theodore said, as if discussing logistics of a supply run. \u201cOn this return flight, we hunt you. We\u2019ll broadcast coded signals\u2014capture alive or dead. Once you\u2019re close, we shoot you down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s hands rose instinctively, shaking her head. \u201cThat\u2019s insane. Why would that buy us a way in?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore\u2019s smile never faltered. \u201cBecause the story will write itself. You stole information from us. You smuggled it out with three defectors. And with the attacks and winter closing in, we couldn\u2019t chase you further. They\u2019ll want answers. We\u2019ll give them exactly what they crave.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s frown deepened. The risk was enormous. The chance of survival was slim\u2014they knew her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd when Miranda, Bryan, and Isaac identify me?\u201d she asked, voice cutting through the silence. \u201cI\u2019ll be their prisoner before I can breathe. How does that serve you\u2014or me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore\u2019s eyes glimmered behind the glass of his lenses. \u201cThat matter has been resolved. As of two days ago, they left for the mainland. No doubt debriefed, but whatever description they gave will be second-hand at best. And with\u2026\u201d He lifted a finger, tapping his own temple. \u201c\u2026your new look, even the scanners aboard won\u2019t give a clean match.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Almost without thinking, her hand drifted up, fingers brushing the ridge of her scar. The skin throbbed faintly, a reminder she hadn\u2019t yet grown used to. She dropped her hand, forcing her expression flat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat about my sister?\u201d she pressed, the question heavy with warning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore tilted his head, almost amused. \u201cIt\u2019s been eleven years. What\u2019s another week? You get in, get the data, and get out. Quick. Clean. Easy.\u201d His tone hardened as he stepped closer. \u201cBut if you accept and you\u2019re caught, they\u2019ll trace every connection you have. That little call of yours was\u2026 unfortunate. I had hoped to intercept you sooner. No matter. My people repair your mind, you deliver what I need, and there\u2019s your cover. You arrive on your sister\u2019s doorstep in a week or two, whole again, because we brought the technology to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lianna\u2019s jaw tightened. The pitch sounded simple enough. Except for being shot out of the sky. Except for infiltrating a group that had already bled her squad. Except for Theodore holding the reins.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a chance to make the deaths of her people mean something. It was a chance to claw back what had been taken. And it was a chance\u2014however slim\u2014to be close to herself again, if his promises were real.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the catch?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Theodore adjusted his glasses with deliberate care, his voice calm, measured. \u201cYou were under United States command, and you\u2019ve already been declared dead. If you\u2019re caught alive, it becomes an international incident. Norway is an ally, yes, but one with thin ties to Washington. Nightshade runs that vessel\u2014or hides within it. And they\u2019ll use any leverage they can find.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He let the words hang, then turned slightly, his reflection glinting cold in the viewport. \u201cAnd if that leverage is you\u2026\u201d His voice dropped, quiet, certain. \u201c\u2026you\u2019ll wish you had stayed dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The sun was a pale, distant coin, barely risen above the horizon, its light strained and thin as it pressed […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-112","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-book-alpha-draft"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/112","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=112"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/112\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":113,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/112\/revisions\/113"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=112"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=112"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nordicvii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=112"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}