Seach checked his magazine, slipping it out of the sleek velocitor to peer at the hallow points within. He knew the clip was mostly full. He’d filled it before they left Zephyr and he had only used two bullets on Pick-Axe and two more on control panels to keep doors secure. That left him with twenty-three bullets in this clip, plus the other ten clips he had buried away in his pockets and gear.

It would have to be enough.

He didn’t know how many men were amassing outside their little room but it would have to be enough.

“He’s unconscious,” Jorry said.

Seach frowned at where she crouched beside Devon. The skin around her taps was raw and red, bubbled up with burn marks from the overloads she’d suffered. Seach felt his chest squeeze tight. If he’d moved faster he could have reached her sooner, could have saved her from all that pain, maybe even stopped whatever had happened to disrupt her taps.

He slammed the clip back into his velocitor and stalked to the door. Pressing a palm to the cold steel surface he closed his eyes and felt out for the energy on the other side. He exhaled, renewed worry eating at him. There were over a dozen bio signatures, all staggered in the corridor beyond.

The longer they waited, the more there would be.

“We need to move,” he said, opening his eyes.

He glanced back at Jo as she moved to his side. She held the velocitor in her left hand, her thumb gently grazing the safety on its side. By the look on her face he could tell she was frightened, even if she wouldn’t admit it. And somehow that knowledge was a breaking point for him. He wanted to grab her up, hold her tight enough to make her grunt and laugh, to make her forget what was waiting on the other side of the door.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he abandoned the door and grabbed the closest mattress, tossing it lengthwise over Devon’s prone form. He did the same for Relo, trying to give them as much cover as he could. With any luck he could contain the fighting to outside the room, but he didn’t want to risk any rogue bullets replaceing their way in here either.

“Zoe, how are we looking?” he asked.

The little girl’s voice piped through his earpiece. “You’re nearly to the access door. There’s a juncture twelve feet from your position. You’ll need to turn right and then head straight.”

“Thanks, Zoe.”

A high-pitched whine pierced the room and the smell of heated metal suddenly assaulted him. Seach ground his teeth and hurried back to the door. Standard procedure, he thought; they were cutting through.

A thin red line bled through the steel, slowly making a box shaped outline in the door.

Time was running out.

“OK, Jo, here’s what we’ll do,” he said, still staring at the red line. “I’ll clear the hall. You run through, start working on that door. As soon as the hall is clear I’ll grab Devon and Relo and head for your position.”

“Seach, you can’t carry both of them.”

Today I can, he thought.

“I’ll make two runs full tilt with my taps,” he said, reaching into his pack and handing her a breather. They would both need the breathers if he used the gas, and he was pretty sure he would end up using the gas. “Devon first, Relo second. You won’t be done hacking the door before I get to you.”

Jorry grabbed his elbow and forced him to look at her again. Blood made a trail from her hairline to her right temple, cracked and dry in some places but still vivid red against her skin. Seach throttled down the impulse to strangle Relo – Relo who just stood there and watched that happen, Relo who probably was the cause of her broken nose and split mouth – and tried to look past the bruises on her face.

“And then what, Seach?” She asked. “We get out of here and then what?”

“I don’t know, Jo. I’m making this up as I go.”

He turned away and she released his elbow, grunting in exasperation. The red line had almost completed its box. Seach pressed his palms to the door and closed his eyes, throwing his senses into his taps. He felt the coil of heat pulsing through steel, located the industrial battery mounted to the offending tool and hooked into it.

He let go of a shaky breath.

Please God, let nothing else go wrong.

“Ready,” Jorry said from beside him.

She sounded professional and capable in spite of her battered state and Seach prayed she wasn’t bluffing. He glanced at the red line again.

Fast and accurate, he coached himself.

The red line reached the horizontal cut just above his head and Seach pulled the energy from the saw, reallocating it into an explosive push that shoved the door outward. Burnt metal screeched as the section of steel door flew back into the two soldiers who were manning the saw. Seach heard them yelp in surprise, felt the shock of impact as the door crashed into them, and ran out of the room.

The cluster of soldiers waiting at the corner of the corridor opened fire. Seach dove to the left, reaching for his gas cans and simultaneously drawing the energy from every weapon he could sense in front of him. The firing puttered to a stop just as he hit the ground. He rolled over his shoulder, flicked the pins on his gas cans and tossed them. By the time he popped back to his feet smoke was already blooming through the corridor.

“Gas, gas, gas!” Someone choked a warning.

Seach charged for the center of their formation. He saw several of them fumbling with their masks and praised the powers that be for improper training.

He reached the center and pulled the energy from their armor generators. Each one snapped out, the electrical power buzzing into his taps, and he heard several of the soldiers begin to swear. But he ignored them, ignored the thought that they were just following orders, and began to fire.

Seach made a quick circle, aiming at arms and legs and shoulders, his mind mapping out where each fell. He saw Jorry make her run, leaping over the fallen when she had to and skidding past him. Then he had to concentrate as a figure rushed him from the left.

Seach ducked, narrowly avoiding the downswing of an assault rifle and finally reallocated, slamming his elbow into the aggressor’s chest. The soldier flew back into one of his comrades, who grunted in pain and toppled to the ground.

Smoke continued to billow through the corridor, thick and shadowy, obstructing his view. He could hear several voices calling out, most of them in pain, and began reloading his velocitor. The clip slid out, smooth as silk and he snagged the next from his belt, smacking it home.

The process took less than six seconds and he was moving again, hurrying through the corridor in search of more trouble. He squinted against the yellow smoke, peering down the sight of his weapon as went.

The ventilation powered on, a deep thrum he could feel through his boots and the smoke began to dissipate.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered, concentrating on his taps.

He didn’t want the gas gone. He wanted them all blind and off balance while he made his runs. So he located the vent’s power source and drained it, let the energy sizzle through him as he rushed back toward the room with Devon and Relo.

The soldiers were starting to organize. He could hear them shuffling toward the sides of the hallway, checking on each other and cursing. Seach pushed his body faster, sprinting through the smoke.

Stay preoccupied. Please, please stay preoccupied, he thought; and then, this is too easy.

Dammit, this is too easy.

The thought nagged at him but he stuck to the plan, rushing into the room where Devon and Relo were waiting.

~*~*~

Jorry broke through the fog of gas, her body screaming for her to stop.

But she couldn’t stop.

Twelve feet. Zoe had said twelve feet.

Her lungs strained and her bare feet slapped against the steel floor and she wished – God, how she wished – her taps would just work. This sprint would be no problem if she could just use her taps.

She rounded the corner, saw a muzzle flash and gasped. Her heart lodged in her throat but her body moved, acting on instinct and years of training. She dove for the other side of juncture just as three dozen men opened fire.

Bullets whizzed by her, pinged against the adjacent wall. She felt one or two of them bounce off her chest armor but forced herself not to think about it. Not yet, no stopping yet.

She crashed to the ground and lost her velocitor. Her left hand smacked hard into the floor, the loose tap sinking into bone and she felt a flicker of energy pulse through her combined with the snap of pain as shattered bone ground against itself. Sliding the last few inches, she scrambled to a sitting position behind the wall and pressed herself hard against the steel, holding her throbbing arm aloft as though that might somehow help.

She dragged in great gulps of ventilated air through her breather and waited for the firing to stop. Jorry banged the back of her head against the wall, trying to think around the deep ache pulsing through her arm.

One second, she thought. It had worked for one blasted second only to fizzle out again.

She risked a glance around the corner and swore.

“Jo!” Seach’s voice called through her earwire.

“I’m alright,” she said and hunted for her weapon.

She spotted it several feet away, laying useless in the middle of the juncture.

“Perfect,” she muttered, glancing around the corner again.

They opened fire and she had to whip back around as several more bullets went zinging through the hall. Her heart thundered in her chest, pounding how close that had been into her mind.

Twenty or thirty men, she thought.

Movax wasn’t giving up without a fight.

The firing stopped and Movax’s voice called down the hall; “Surrender, Johanna. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

She closed her eyes and caught her breath.

Of course he was here.

“Hang on, Jo, I’m on my way back,” Seach said in her ear.

She thought of Devon unconscious in that room with Relo slumped beside him and felt her heart pinch. The Consulate would kill him, just like they’d kill Paul and Kenzie and Zoe. Maybe they wouldn’t do it right away but it would happen eventually.

And all because she couldn’t get her damn taps to work.

Frustrated, she slapped the ground, trying to get the stupid tap to connect again but all she felt with a renewed surge of pain as it spiked through her wrist and arm. And then, because the pain was a hell of a lot better than thinking about Devon dead, she pounded the ground again and again. Her fingers tingled, then went numb, and the wretched shift of bone in her wrist became a hot center of agony that stole her breath.

“What are we looking at?” Seach’s voice made her stop.

He was crouched at the adjacent corner, weapons ready and looking every bit the soldier she knew him to be. Dazed, Jorry stared at him for a long moment, her mind stuck on the day they’d blasted off Gliese. Zephyr had been no more than a handmade computer surrounded by a metal casing and even Jorry hadn’t been certain she would fly.

But Seach believed she would, believed it enough for the both of them and they’d managed their escape. Because that was who Seach was, she thought. The sort of man who put all of himself into whatever he did. And when he believed in something it was an all-consuming, unconquerable belief.

“Jo,” he said, forcing her to focus.

“About thirty men, I think,” she said.

“I’ll give you twenty seconds!” Movax called.

Jorry ignored the warning and concentrated on Seach. He could take these men, she knew. He could even get Relo and Devon to the door like he promised. But there would be more men, more running, and multiple trips would slow him down. She met his gaze across the juncture and held it.

“In case this goes south I want you to know I love you,” she said. She nodded once, approving her own statement.

It had only taken thirty years for her to say it but at least it was said.

Thirteen seconds.

She shifted, grimacing as she got her feet under her and prepared to move. When she looked back at him Seach was staring, an indescribable look on his face. And then his expression hardened, his amber eyes slitting into a glare so hard she almost rocked back on her heels.

“This isn’t goodbye, Jo. We’re living through this.”

Seven seconds.

“You love me? Then you can show me how much when we get back to Zephyr.”

Seach didn’t give her a chance to respond. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he was up, turning into the fray as Movax and his men opened fire. Jorry scrambled to her feet and hurried after him. But he was using his taps, his body blurring in her vision as he streaked down the hall. She grabbed her velocitor from the floor, keeping as low as she could to avoid gunfire.

All at once the shooting stopped and she knew he’d stolen the energy from their weapons. Realizing they couldn’t shoot, the men started to converge on Seach, opting for hand to hand combat instead. Jorry began to fire, hitting them as they tried to flank him, all the while making a quick run to keep up.

Lord have mercy, she missed her taps.

Soldiers leapt at Seach like fire ants on a piece of meat.

Too many, she realized. Oh, God, there were too many.

She lost sight of him in the throng of bodies and felt her heart constrict. Fear propelled her forward, kept her firing her weapon at those on the outskirts of the fight. The lights dimmed just as she reached the teeming jumble of limbs.

Jorry shot the shoulder of one woman, watched her fall away from the fight and switched targets. A hand grabbed her forearm, wrenching the weapon off target and she misfired. Jorry swiveled her wrist, felt the burn of her opponents grip against her skin as she broke free and turned into him.

He was big, at least two heads taller than she was and solidly built. She felt his arms start to closer around her, felt him trying to grab tight and jutted her elbow back into his solar plexus. The air left him in a rush, the smell of heavy garlic and onions assailing her. His arms fell away and she jerked her head back, letting his face collide with the back of her skull.

The impact sent sparks through her vision and she took a hasty step away from him. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but he was already moving again. Jorry caught the butt of his weapon at the last second, felt it hammer down into her tap and cried out.

The tap sunk deep, its hooks grinding against shattered bone and snagging into place. All at once her taps realigned, surging to aching life and she reallocated on accident, draining the closest available energy source dry; the soldier in front of her.

She heard his heart stop, heard his last gasping breath as his bioelectricity transferred to her taps.

“No,” Jorry breathed, watching his surprised expression as it glazed over.

His voice invaded her mind, gruff and shocked, asking what had just happened, what was going on. The energy hummed in her taps, an intrusive, unnatural addition and for half a heartbeat Jorry remembered the grey plains of Titan. She shouted something, a denial of some sort, not even she was sure what it was, and sent the energy – his energy – into a wide concussive blast away from her.

The hallway shook. Soldiers soared into walls and floor and Jorry dropped to her knees. Dazed, she just watched. She knew the blast had hit Seach too but he was Tapped. He would be able to catch himself. The others were not so lucky.

She didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling there, it couldn’t have been long, when a hand closed around her elbow and gently lifted her to her feet. Blood smeared under Seach’s nose and someone had made a lucky hit right against his left eyebrow, but the look he gave her had nothing to do with his injuries.

He knew what she’d done – what she had accidentally done.

The hallway was littered with bodies, most of them unconscious. Those closest to the blast were clearly dead. Jorry stared at them, still too stunned to move.

Her taps were back, clearly functioning, and oh, God, how she hated them. She could feel the pervasive presence of the other, the soldier she had drained, like a heavy weight on her chest. He was there at the edges of her mind, still confused as to what was happening and it took every ounce of willpower she had to ignore his voice.

“I didn’t mean to,” she stammered. “Seach … it was an accident …”

“Get to work on the door, Jo,” Seach said, gingerly releasing her elbow. “I’ll go get our boys.”

Jorry met his gaze and nodded, not trusting her voice.

Seach was right. Now was not the time.

She forced herself to concentrate as Seach took off down the hallway. Reinforcements would be coming soon. She had to open the door.

Jorry stepped over bodies, refusing to look at them in her trek to the sealed outer door. Part of her wanted to look for Movax, to see where the bastard had been standing and if she’d at least managed to kill him, but she had work to do, so she didn’t.

Seach made it back with Devon just as she reached the control box beside the door. She slid a hand in the pocket of her ALICE gear but it was empty.

“Hacking device?” She asked, watching as Seach lowered Devon just beside her.

He dug into his upper vest pocket, then handed her the slender device before running back for Relo. Jorry turned and snapped her hacking device to the door, opening the security interface. The shiny black surface turned grey, and then began scrolling through coded information in white, red and green. The colors meshed together, bleeding numbers and commands that she had to re-read twice. Acrid smoke tickled the back of her throat until she coughed into her elbow, realizing a second later that her breather was running out of power.

Security had ramped up their protection. As the numbers flew by she could see that someone somewhere was actively countering the hacking device. Jorry smiled, let herself be absorbed by the running code, and recognized the tactic her opponent was using. You didn’t have to be brilliant to enjoy code, she thought; you just had to be creative. She manually overrode the remote connection and shut out anyone not standing directly in front of the control box. And just for the fun of things she sent her opponent a smiley face and an insincere apology.

An instant later the connection was broken, leaving her hacking device to do its work unhindered. The door hissed open, revealing the open, white tubes of Europa’s subterranean level.

“Seach. We’re through.”

“Two minutes twenty seconds,” Seach said as he ran up to her. Relo dangled over his shoulder, long limbs swinging in his wake. “You’re rusty, Jo.”

“You’re welcome to give it a try next time,” she said and moved to lift Devon.

“You sure you can handle him?” Seach asked.

“I’m fully functional, just a little overloaded.”

And haunted, she thought, firmly pushing the soldier to the back of her mind.

Michael. His name was Michael.

She ground her teeth and nodded, shifting Devon’s weight onto her shoulders.

“Right,” Seach said, not sounding very convinced. “Follow me then.”

Devon flopped awkwardly over her shoulder and she had to readjust her grip twice, but she followed Seach through the door and into the cold tubes. She felt the chill of ice on her bare feet and grimaced, picking up speed to match Seach’s pace. Her legs strained and she swore several of her vertebrae tried to break ranks and cripple her, but she kept going.

Should have taken Pick-Axe’s boots, she thought.

Seach stopped at an access ladder and started to climb. Jorry followed, panting and carefully negotiating the climb with Devon’s body draped over her. He was still alive, she could sense that much from him, but there was no telling how much blood he had lost.

They were running out of time.

Jorry scowled and hurried after Seach, emerging at the top of the ladder and into a small, boxy structure. Surface access point, she realized as Seach kicked the hatchway closed and turned to the outer door. He took several breaths before moving to the terminal.

“It’s about fifty yards to Zephyr,” he said. “She’s on attack mode with instructions to wait for me.”

“Do you think they found her already?”

“Let’s replace out,” he said, adjusting his grip on Relo so he could remove his earpiece. “Hey Zoe, how are we looking?”

“Zephyr’s been firing a lot but Paul won’t let me see the security feed,” Zoe’s voice sounded small and shrill.

“That’s probably a good thing,” Seach said. “Put Paul on.”

They heard a rustle of movement and then Paul’s voice.

“Tell us what’s happening,” Jorry said.

“Captain! There are a lot of men out there,” Paul said, sounding a little shrill himself.

Poor man, she thought.

“Of course there are but is there a path for us to get to you?”

“There’s nothing but ice out there, Jo,” Seach said, shoving the earpiece back into place. “They’re gonna be shooting at us the minute we open the door and there’s no cover.”

Jorry nodded, squinting as she did several calculations. They could steal power from several weapons at once but if there was a substantial number out there – and it sounded like there was – then they’d still be shot at. There was a limit to how much energy they could pay attention to, after all. They were likely going to miss a few. Plus, smart soldiers carried multiple weapons. And they’d be capable of swapping them out pretty damn fast.

Fifty yards, she thought and shifted Devon’s weight; could be worse. She wasn’t certain how, but it could be worse.

“Alright,” she said and took a deep breath. “You take the weapons on the left, I’ll take the weapons on the right. Let’s mad-dash it for Zephyr.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seach said and winked at her before opening the door.

They burst out together, sprinting hard and fast for Zephyr’s position. Weapon-fire erupted around them and Jorry snagged as much concussive energy as she could, felt it slap hard into her taps and burn through her as she reallocated, pushing her legs to move faster.

Bodies scattered across the ice and she forced herself not to think about the assault these men must have done to her ship. She could see scorch marks on Zephyr’s hull and spots where bullets had managed to sink into the metal.

Jorry leapt over fallen men, ignored the throbbing cold that beat into her feet with each jarring step, and kept hold of Devon. She lost feeling in her toes halfway to the ship. Seach passed her, she saw him reach the loading dock and breathed in relief. The crack of weapons firing seemed swallowed up by the vast open space and she tried to concentrate harder, tried to focus on each weapon to steal its energy.

A bullet struck her thigh and her right leg buckled. She pitched forward, dropping Devon and slamming into the ground. She felt the cold burn of frost biting into her skin as she slid uncontrollably forward, her face scraping across the ice. Pain bloomed in her thigh, pulsing up and down her leg.

She came to a stop ten yards from the ship with Devon just in front. Bullets continued to chip into the ice around her and she scrambled for Devon, curling herself around him as a shield. Zephyr fired back but she couldn’t see how the battle was going. Her leg was on fire, her body already pushed beyond exhaustion, and the only thing she could think to do was hold onto Devon.

She tucked his head into her shoulder and kissed his temple. Just like when he was little, when he was barely out of diapers and first called her “Mama.” She remembered the sweet sound of his voice as he’d said it, too. And the dimples in his fat cheeks when he’d grinned at her, so happy and so bright that she couldn’t help but love him with all her might.

She peeked up, her vision finally clearing, and spotted Movax at one of the Consulate ships. He was well behind the lines, shouting at one of the commanders.

Shit, she thought, he’s not dead; and then, but damned if he was getting paid today.

Jorry glared hard at Movax in the distance, grabbed as much energy as she could from the weapons and armor surrounding the man and shoved herself to her feet. Her taps worked hard to heal the bullet wound but she didn’t have time to wait. With a grunt and another burst of stolen energy she hoisted Devon over her shoulder and started for Zephyr.

Seach met her halfway. He’d already delivered Relo safely and took Devon from her, flipping the boy seamlessly over his own shoulder before running back for the ship. Jorry followed, limping her way up Zephyr’s ramp and into the safety of her ship.