He turned back and looked down to the far end of the room. It was at least three hundred meters long, and maybe a lot more. Lorillard had never had a particularly good sense for judging distances by eye. “Those tanks…” He reached out and pointed toward the closest one, a perfectly circular construction, bright silver without a mark on it, nor even any signs of dirt or age. It looked like it had just been dropped there, though Lorillard knew the thing had been in place for centuries. “…they hold antimatter?”

  “Yes.”

  Lorillard hadn’t expected so direct an answer.

  “There are magnetic fields inside, confining the antimatter, keeping it from contact with any matter.”

  “Any matter at all? Is that even possible?”

  “We’ve got…I mean the Confederation has…limited quantities of antimatter stored in similar fashion. Storage is a problem, of course, but the biggest thing preventing the use of antimatter for power generation on the Rim is the cost of production. It’s temperamental stuff, no doubt, but if we had the technology to produce the material in large qualities at a reasonable cost, I suspect we could manage the rest of it.” She paused and gestured toward the tanks. “I’m only guessing at how those operate, but the few specs I’ve read from Confederation research projects call for the energy created by leakage, and subsequent annihilation of escaping particles, to be funneled back into the maintenance of the magnetic fields.”

  “So, you think those things basically sustain themselves?”

  “Well, something like that. The reclaimed leakage in Confed units doesn’t produce enough energy by itself, but the idea—and I’m not sure if it’s ever been implemented on any Confed systems—is to supplement the leakage with low level reactor function. So, in theory, the storage facilities are not relying on any outside energy sources. As long as there is antimatter in the tanks—and they continue functioning—the fields are maintained. Considering the consequences of even the briefest power failure, that makes a lot of sense, of course.”

  “How long can that last? These things are centuries old, and if one of them had failed, even for an instant, this place would be long gone, no?”

  “That’s true, Cap. From what I know, one of the hurdles, other than production of antimatter, is attaining success rates high enough to work in a situation where even the slightest blip will destroy the entire system. I’m sure there are multiple layers to these setups…systems and backup systems. For example, a million to one chance of failure backed up by a million to one backstop, is a trillion to one. I’m not sure what parameters were standard in imperial days, but considering these things are three hundred years old—minimum—and they look like they were just unpacked from a freighter, I’d say they were pretty tight.”

  “And, that’s what we’ve got to overcome. We’ve got to create that failure that layers of old imperial tech were designed to stop.”

  “Cap…this is amazing. Research here could advance our science by centuries. Destroying it…”

  “I don’t like it any better than you, Yarra.” Lorillard knew where she’d been going. His own mind was already there. “But that’s not one of the choices. We either destroy this thing, and all the tech on it, or we let the Union take control. You can guarantee they’ve got ships on their way now, and all we can do if we leave is try to convince the authorities we’re not crazy. By the time the navy sends any real forces out there, the Union will have this whole system fortified, and garrisoned with their ships. The amazing advancements you see…they will get them, not us, not the Confederation. And they will use them against us.” He paused, and he looked down at the deck. “They will use them to conquer the Rim.’ Another pause. “No, there is no other way. We have to destroy all this, and we have to do it now.”

  He glanced back toward Sylene. Everything seemed quiet, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were already on borrowed time.

  “Check these systems out, will you? Figure out how we can rig them to fail. There’s no choice.” He stared silently at her, and he added, “You know it, too, Yarra. You know we have to do it.”

  The engineer looked back, seeming for a moment like she might argue. But she just nodded, and Lorillard felt the realization, the capitulation she was feeling.

  “Okay, Cap, but I’m not sure what I’ll be able to do. Blowing up those tanks would do it, but I can’t even begin to guess what kind of charge that would take. We’ve got some components. I might be able to put together some kind of bomb…but it’s going to be a guess as to whether it’s powerful enough.”

  “Do it.” Lorillard nodded as he spoke. Then, he turned toward Sylene. “Sy, come over here and try again, see what you can do with these data systems. I’ll stand guard.”

  Lorillard was the commander, the leader…but he knew he was damned close to useless just then, save for holding a gun at the door.

  Sylene nodded. “Sure thing, Cap.” He could tell from her voice she was no more optimistic than Yarra about tackling the sophisticated imperial tech. Still, she didn’t argue with him. She just turned and walked over, and she stood in place for a long while, her eyes moving over the workstations and the displays.

  Lorillard walked the rest of the way to the door, and he positioned himself behind the wall, just enough of him leaning in the open to keep an eye on the corridor. There was nothing, no sounds, no signs at all of any enemies. But, somehow, he knew trouble was coming. He was as sure of it as he’d ever been of anything.

  He just hoped Yarra and Sy could get something figured out, and rigged up, before whatever was coming hit the fan.

  * * *

  Andi stared at her death. She’d had close scrapes before, desperate escapes, but this time she knew she was finished. She could see the enemy’s rifle, follow as it completed its movement, the Foudre Rouge locking on to her. There was no way out, no move she could make, no way to evade, not at so close a range.

  She wasn’t the sort to give up, though, not ever, and she raced to bring her own gun to bear, ready to fight to the very end. If she had to die, it would not be meekly yielding. Still, she was behind her adversary, too late to save the situation.

  The struggle with the first trooper had taken too long, or perhaps she had wasted a crucial half second celebrating her kill. Either way, she stared at her killer, knowing with cold certainty, she was as good as dead.

  But the Foudre Rouge didn’t fire. He just stood where he was, for perhaps a second, even as Andi held her own fire. Then her adversary stumbled forward a few steps.

  She saw Tyrell standing behind him, the remains of a shattered chair in his hands. He was twisted out in a strange pose, and she wondered if he was wounded. Then, she realized he was shackled to the table. She wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to reach out far enough to attack the Union soldier…but he had.

  And he’d saved her life doing it.

  The Foudre Rouge troopers had armor protecting their backs and helmets covering most of their heads and the backs of their necks. But it was clear, if only from the tinge of red she could see on the bent shards of the metal chair remaining in Tyrell’s hands, that he had managed to land his blow right between helmet and armor.

  Her eyes darted to the side, and her body leapt into action, without conscious direction. It was instinct, almost one hundred percent, but she knew the enemy was still alive. Tyrell’s blow had distracted him, and probably injured him, but he wasn’t dead.

  He wasn’t out of action either. She had a few seconds, but if she wasted them, she’d throw the chance her shipmate gave her away. The injured enemy could still kill all of them.

  The Union soldier spun around to the rear, a reaction, Andi figured, to the attack. Tyrell was already lunging back, ducking for cover the best he could behind the table. The Foudre Rouge had held onto his rifle, and he opened fire. Andi saw a round catch her shipmate in the leg, just as he was diving behind what skimpy protection the table offered.

  She stayed focused, pulling up her own rifle, bringing it to bear. She was less than two meters away, close enough, she wagered with herself, that even her less powerful rounds would rip through her enemy’s armor. No need to hunt for seams and weak spots.

  Not from a meter away.

  Her clip was low, she knew, no more than five or six shots left. She had to make them count. She could hear the others coming through behind her, her comrades, no doubt rushing to join the fight. But she knew they would be too late. The struggle was down to the Foudre Rouge and her, and only one of them could survive. Even as that realization flashed through her mind, she could see the enemy starting to turn back toward her.

  Should she try to disable him, capture him? Was there information he could provide? She suspected it would be extraordinarily difficult to break a Foudre Rouge soldier—though she fancied she could do it—not to mention to subdue and capture one. But there was no question. He would be a valuable prisoner, especially considering all the unanswered questions they faced.

  She decided. She should injure him, try to take him captive.

  Then, she emptied her rifle into the center of his breastplate anyway, confirming her belief that the rounds would penetrate at such short range. Blood welled up from the gaping holes in the soldier’s armor, and he fell back almost immediately. She leaned forward and looked, but she knew already with almost total certainty.

  He was dead.

  So much for taking a prisoner…

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Somewhere Inside Imperial Station

  Orbiting Zensoria, Osiron VI

  Year 301 AC

  “No, Andi…you can’t go back there. Not alone.” Anna was standing in front of her, making an impassioned plea. Nightrunner’s crew had no ranks, no established hierarchy save that the captain was their leader. But since the landing party had returned, and even during the trip back, they’d all been deferring to Andi’s decisions.

  Even Anna’s objections to her leaving the ship were efforts to convince her, and not any attempt o impose seniority or majority rule on her actions.

  “I have to go, Anna. The captain and the others are there. They’ve got to know there are more Foudre Rouge out there. There are only three of them…” Andi didn’t mention that Sylene and Yarra were probably the two weakest members of the crew in a fight. Captain Lorillard could take care of himself pretty well, but the party as a whole hadn’t been formed for battle.

  “Just you? If they’re in trouble, we all should go.” It was clear from her tone, the idea scared her to death. But Andi didn’t doubt Anna would go along with her.

  “Who? Gregor?” The giant was twice wounded, and even as they spoke, Doc was still working on him, an effort set to an almost musical score of the big man yelping in pain and shouting at his caretaker.

  “Tyrell’s hurt.” She paused, and then continued, her voice soft, somber. “Jammar’s dead.”

  There was a moment of silence, as they both stared down at the deck. Then, Andi continued. “Yarra’s out there with the Cap, which means you and Barret are the closest we’ve got to anyone who can get the ship ready to blast.” She didn’t mention the fact that Nightrunner was under the guns of one of the Union ships, and likely trapped where she was…or, at least, left with no options save a desperate and dangerous escape attempt. That didn’t matter. Everything she was saying was true. Still, there was dishonesty to it all. Her motivation had little enough to do with such concerns, and more with her desire to keep the rest of her comrades safe. She was ready to rush back into the depths of the station in a desperate attempt to help the captain and Yarra and Sylene, to take whatever risks that entailed…but she wasn’t ready to let any of her other shipmates go with her.

  “I’ll go with you, then. Barret can prep the ship without me.”

  Andi held back a sigh. Anna had always been reasonably handy in a fight. But she was also the closest thing Nightrunner had to a pilot with both the captain and her gone. “You need to preflight the ship, and get her ready to go as soon as I get back.” And to fly her out of here if I don’t get back…

  How the hell am I going to tell them to leave if we don’t return by some time or another?

  Even bringing that up would start a new debate about the others coming with her. She couldn’t discuss that with them.

  She wasn’t going to bring it up. She’d leave an alert on the AI instead, set for two hours after she left. If she wasn’t back by then, the chances were, she wasn’t coming back.

  “Do you trust me, Anna?” The words blurt out of her mouth, a sudden idea of how to get her friends to do what she wanted. “Do you, all of you?” She turned and looked at the others in the wardroom.

  She got a wave of responses, nods, and quiet acknowledgements. She knew they trusted her, that they respected her abilities and judgment.

  “Then, please, listen to me. I can go in faster by myself, try to get the captain and the others. I’ll bring extra ammo and a medkit. And, I’ll get back here as quickly as possible.”

  She turned and walked over to the storage locker, pulling out a large sack, and filling it with clips, and the smaller of the two medkits on the shelf.

  Then, she walked back to her quarters for a minute, the only place on the ship where she could get a moment’s privacy, enough time to program the AI to tell them all to leave. She kept it short and simple, fighting the urge to leave individual messages to each of them. She just didn’t have the time.

  She stood up, took a deep breath and tried to push the fear from her face. Then, she walked out into the narrow corridor, and back into the wardroom.

  “Okay, you all know what to do. I’ll be back, and I’ll bring the others with me.” She wished she felt as confident about that as she’d managed to sound.

  There were some uncomfortable looks, and she could feel more than one of them teetering on the edge of arguing with her. She had to go, before any of them pushed through the uncertainty and decided to follow after her.

  She stepped into the airlock, and out into the damaged—but still functional tube. She worked her way through, almost losing her footing a couple times, and she jumped out into the corridor inside the station. The first place she’d seen when the landing party had first set out, so many hours before.

  The place she’d battled her way back to Nightrunner.

  Where Jammar had died.

  There was no time for any of that, not now. She had to find the captain and the others.

  * * *

  “I think we may have something, Cap.”

  Lorillard was standing next to the doorway, his rifle out and at the ready. He’d heard something, a few sounds from far down the corridor. He didn’t know what it was, or how much of an imminent danger it represented, but he hadn’t told the others. He hated himself for hiding it, but he needed them focused. His entire crew, save for himself, had been born in the Confederation, into various circumstances, certainly, but still within the borders of the most enlightened nation on the Rim. He’d been born in the Union, and he knew in a way the others never truly could, just how vital it was to keep the enemy forces from harvesting the technology in the station.

  “What is it?” He turned and glanced over at Sylene. Nightrunner’s computer expert had walked about halfway toward the door before she’d spoken.

  “Yarra’s working on a bomb. It’s a dicey thing, but she’s pretty sure it will work, and also that it’s strong enough to knock the containment out of one of those cylinders.”

  Lorillard didn’t know if that was true or not—though he was inclined to believe his engineer when she said something—but he was absolutely sure any breach in magnetic containment, on any of the tanks in the room, would reduce the station to atoms.

  “How long?”

  “Half an hour? Maybe forty minutes?”

  “Faster would be better.” Lorillard couldn’t hear the sounds anymore, but he figured they were likely running out of time.

  “We’ll try, Cap. I think I can rig a timed detonator from scraps of what we’ve got in our packs. It won’t be sophisticated, but I’m pretty sure it will work.”

  “Then don’t waste time explaining to me. Go get it done.” The words were a little more strident than he’d intended, but he wanted to get her farther from the door. Worrying about what was out there—and there weren’t many good options—wasn’t going to do anything to speed her work.

  She nodded and went back to the other side of the room. He watched for a moment, his eyes moving from Sylene to Yarra. The engineer was hunched over, surrounded by bits and pieces of equipment from their packs. He shook his head slightly, struggling to believe something so important had come down to cobbling together a device as crude as a patchwork bomb. They could have brought any number of professionally-manufactured explosives, but such devices were the last things he’d have expected to need. They had come to salvage, to recover…not to destroy. Lorillard was an old space hand, molded and scarred by years in the deeps, but he’d never ceased to be amazed at fortune’s unpredictability.

  He was tense, scared of course, not only for himself, but even more because he’d brought two of his people this far in, put them at such great risk. But he knew there had been no choice, even that, if the price to destroy the station was all of their deaths, he would accept that cost. The Confederation had given him a life, one he could never have had in the Union. He simply couldn’t let it fall, nor even seriously risk such a disastrous development.

  No cost was too high to pay.

  He turned back, peering around the edge of the opening, looking for anything. Movement, shadows, more sounds. But there was nothing, at least nothing he could detect.

  But they weren’t alone. He knew that. And his gut had rarely been wrong.

  * * *

  Andi’s finger tightened, and the assault rifle opened up, firing at full auto. She’d resupplied herself on Nightrunner, but she was still hesitant to burn too quickly through her ammo. Such concerns didn’t matter, though, not just then. The two Foudre Rouge were just ahead of her. She’d heard them, tracked them, moved slowly up behind…and then one of them turned.