“I’ll be off-duty by the time you’re ready for pickup,” Bale said as the shuttle gently touched down. “If I don’t see you before I head home, take care of yourself, Alex.”

  “You won’t see me,” Alex replied. “We’re shipping out tomorrow.”

  Bale didn’t think much of it. “In that case, good hunting, whatever it is you’ll be video game hunting next.”

  Alex smirked as he removed his harness and stood. Bale assumed they were transferring to another training area, which was most often the case. There was no need to explain otherwise. The odds they would be stationed in the same place at the same time again were slim enough as it was.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Alex replied. “And thank you for the ride.”

  “Just doing my job,” Bale said.

  “And wish Josh a happy birthday for me, will you?” Alex added.

  Bale smiled. “Sure will.”

  Alex hopped out of the shuttle and closed the hatch behind him. He had barely cleared its counter mass field when it lifted off, racing back to the fort.

  Alex didn’t look back. Instead he continued into the tiny terminal, where he waved to the single guard and attendant, made a little small talk, and passed through into the umbilical that would lead to Miyaki’s bar. The corridor from the spaceport was quiet, but he could see the activity in the first dome up ahead, home to a commissary and an officer-only watering hole, along with a few smaller vendors that split the thoroughfare, hawking food and, more quietly, other forms of entertainment.

  The passageways split from there, branching out in six directions. Following the path to Miyaki’s, he was joined by an increasing number of civilians, most of whom offered a friendly pleasantry. A short beep behind him moved him aside as a narrow scooter rolled through, its cart laden with boxes being delivered from the spaceport.

  Miyaki’s was in the second dome he entered, much more busy with Marines than the first. Some were ducking into the bar, but others climbed onto the back of tri-wheeled scooters converted into transports, with six people sitting single-file behind the driver. A mix of men and women, they were likely headed to the housing domes on the outer perimeter.

  Alex made his way to the bar, its entrance marked by a holographic sign depicting a stylized samurai helmet. As he stepped inside, he was instantly comforted by the familiar sights and sounds. Despite its location light-years from Earth, Miyaki's had the feel of a classic pub with dim lighting and dark wood accents. Home Corp went out of their way to make sure these places looked as much like home as possible.

  To his left, a group of off-duty technicians were engaged in a heated game of darts. Just beyond them, several pool tables were set up, currently occupied by members of Viper squad.

  Alex spotted his team gathered around a table off to his right. They waved him over as soon as they saw him.

  "Hey, Gunny," Malik called out. "Glad you decided to join us after all. Want to settle a bet for us?"

  Alex pulled up a chair, raising an eyebrow. "Do I want to? Probably not. Am I going to anyway? I doubt I have a choice."

  Sarah laughed. "Jackson here claims he can name every player on Manchester United’s roster over the last fifty years."

  Alex eyed Jackson skeptically. "Every player? For fifty years? I don't believe it."

  Jackson puffed up his chest, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "It's true! I’ve got a photographic memory. Always have."

  "Alright, smart guy," Zoe said, “how are we supposed to verify this?"

  "Easy," Jackson replied. “Just query your DA. It should be able to pull up the information without a problem."

  Zoe snorted. "And what's the point of memorizing all that exactly if you can just look it up?”

  Jackson opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, looking stumped.

  “Ouch,” Malik said. “You fell right into that kill box, Jack-o.”

  The table erupted in laughter, the tension from earlier melting away in the warmth of their camaraderie.

  “Sergeant Strickland,” the waitress said, appearing beside Alex. She dropped a bottle of IPA in front of him, having already memorized his favorite. “How goes it?”

  Alex hesitated, deciding how honest to be. “As well as usual,” he replied noncommittally. “How are you, Charlie?”

  “I just got accepted for transfer to a Home site on Mars,” she replied. “I’m excited to get back closer to Earth and my family.”

  “Hey, that’s great news!” Alex said, followed by the rest of Scorpion. “Congratulations!”

  “Thank you, Alex,” she replied.

  “Does this mean drinks are on the house?” Jackson asked.

  “On my salary? Are you kidding?”

  “Jackson was just about to rattle off the names of about a thousand football players,” Malik said. “If you want to watch and learn.”

  “What am I learning?” Charlie asked.

  “How to make a fool of yourself in five minutes or less,” Zoe replied. “It’s Jackson’s specialty.”

  “Did I kill your cat or something, Zee?” Jackson laughed.

  “It sounds really exciting,” Charlie said, “but I’ve got other tables to wait on.”

  “Thanks for the beer, Charlie,” Alex said.

  “Okay, hot shot,” Sarah said to Jackson. “Let’s hear it.”

  Before Jackson could start his recitation, the door to Miyaki's slid open, and a group of Marines entered. Their leader, Gunnery Sergeant Amelia West, immediately spotted Alex and his team, a competitive glint in her eye as she led her squad over.

  "Well, well," Amelia said, her voice conveying playful challenge. "If it isn't Scorpion squad. Slumming it with us mere mortals tonight?"

  Alex felt his heart rate pick up slightly as he met Amelia's gaze. "Just keeping our skills sharp," he replied, matching her tone. "You still owe us a rematch, if I recall correctly."

  Amelia's lips curled into a smirk. “Itching to lose again so soon? Whenever you're ready, Strickland. Just say the word."

  As Hornet squad moved to claim their own table, Alex turned back to his team, only to find them all staring at him with knowing grins. "What?" he asked, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.

  "Oh, nothing," Sarah said innocently. "Just wondering when you're going to ask hunny-gunny out for something more than a friendly game of pool.”

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Alex muttered, taking a long pull from his beer.

  "Come on, Gunny," Malik chimed in. "We've all seen the way you look at her. It's like watching a puppy stare at a steak."

  “Okay, fine. I think she’s attractive. It doesn’t matter. We’re out of here in twelve hours. So can we change the subject? Please?"

  His team laughed good-naturedly but mercifully dropped the topic. As conversation flowed around him, Alex found his thoughts drifting back to his earlier call home, relaxation harder to find than he expected.

  "Hey," Sarah said softly, noticing his distraction. "How did it go with your dad? Were you able to reach him?"

  Alex shook his head. "No, he wasn't there. I did talk to my mom, though. They already know about Dana, but that wasn’t surprising.”

  “How’s she taking it?” Zoe asked.

  “She’s married to my father,” Alex replied. “And both her kids are military, too. I know it’s peacetime, and has been for our entire lives, but things happen. We have training exercises go wrong and equipment malfunction casualties all the time. Meaning, she’s used to the idea that we might be hurt or killed at any moment.”

  “So you think Dana is dead?” Jackson asked.

  “What? No. Not at all. I mean, it’s possible, of course. But I’m not going to just give up on her. But if she is dead and we know who killed her, well…I just hope Montoya does the right thing and sends us after whoever’s responsible.”

  “Oorah!” Malik replied.

  Before the conversation could continue, Amelia returned to their table, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "So, Strickland, about that rematch. You up for it, or are you afraid we'll embarrass you in front of your cheerleaders here?" She motioned to everyone around the table.

  “I thought you said you’d wait until we were ready,” Alex said.

  “I figured you’d have a better chance before you had a few drinks in you.”

  “Is that how it is?”

  “Unless you have a better idea.” She grinned at him, stopping his heart again. He couldn’t ignore the twinkle in her eye, suggesting that the attraction wasn’t one-sided.

  It was one thing not to get mired in a firefight against hardened defenses. Another to commit when the enemy was already on the verge of surrender.

  “Maybe I do have a better idea,” Alex replied, returning to his feet. “But it’s classified.”

  “Oh?” she answered. “Maybe you can fill me in somewhere more private, then?”

  Alex glanced back at his squad, who were silently egging him on. They only had twelve hours, but spending the next few with Amelia might be precisely what he needed to take his mind off his sister. There wasn’t anything he could do about it from here, anyway.

  “How does Desert Park sound?” he asked Amelia.

  She smiled. “It’s a start, but just keep in mind that we only have one night.”

  “We’ll make the most of it,” Alex said. “That’s a promise.” He turned to his squad. “Don’t wait up for me.”

  “You two kids have a great time,” Jackson said. “You can tell us all about it in the morning.”

  Zoe punched Jackson in the arm. Alex turned to leave with Amelia. They’d only made it a few steps toward the door when a piercing wail cut through every other sound in the bar.

  “What the hell?” Amelia said.

  Alex thought Amelia had raised his heart rate. The wail had kicked it into overdrive.

  “We’re under attack,” he replied.

  CHAPTER 18

  Alex and Amelia exchanged a bewildered glance as the alarm's piercing wail continued to cut through the suddenly agitated atmosphere of Miyaki's bar. Around them, Marines and civilians stood frozen in place, their conversations abruptly halted by the urgent sound.

  "What the hell is going on?" Amelia repeated over the noise, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is this some kind of drill?"

  Alex shook his head, a knot of unease tightening in his gut. "I sure as hell hope so,” he replied, his voice tense. “But something doesn't feel right."

  The rest of Scorpion squad had risen from their seats, their faces mirroring the same concern and confusion that Alex felt. They started moving towards him, training and instinct taking over.

  “What’s the plan, Gunny?” Sarah asked.

  "We need to get back to base,” he replied. "If this isn't a drill, we'll be needed." He turned to Amelia, an apology in his eyes. "Rain check on that walk?"

  She managed a tight smile. "Duty calls, Strickland. Let's hope this is just a false alarm." She broke away from them to join her own squad, approaching from the pool tables.

  The Marines poured out of the bar and into the corridor, joined by a flood of other service members from the surrounding establishments. The narrow passageway was a sea of charcoal uniforms moving purposefully towards the spaceport and civilians running the opposite way, though Alex wasn’t sure where they thought they would hide.

  His eyes were drawn to the sky above as they hurried along the transparent umbilical. What he saw made his blood run cold. The orbital station, a gleaming jewel against the darkness of space, was under attack. Unidentified ships swarmed around it, their weapons flashing as they poured fire into the station's hull.

  “Oh, hell,” Malik breathed, following Alex's gaze. "Is that..."

  "An attack," Alex confirmed, hardly able to believe it himself. Who could be attacking them? "The station's defenses are overwhelmed. Where the hell are our ships?"

  As if in answer to his question, two FUP Navy vessels, a frigate and a destroyer, swung into view, racing to engage the enemy. But they were too late, caught off-guard by the sudden assault. The enemy ships turned, focusing their fire on the Navy vessels with brutal efficiency.

  Within moments, the destroyer was a drifting wreck, its hull perforated by railgun rounds and missile impacts. The frigate fared no better, disappearing in a blinding flash as its reactor core went critical.

  "Shit just got real real, real fast,” Zoe muttered, her face pale.

  Down the way from them, Alex noticed Vipers and Hornets pushing alongside other personnel, everyone heading the same way. His mind caught up to what he had just witnessed overhead. Two Navy ships destroyed, the station soon to follow it. Brave men and women were dying up there and not in a training exercise or equipment malfunction. The shift from simulation to actual war had come suddenly and without warning.

  A sharp buzz from his uniform pocket snapped Alex back to the moment. He pulled out his DA, Lieutenant Weather’s face appearing above the screen, his expression somber.

  “Gunny,” he barked. "Where are you?"

  "On our way to the spaceport, sir," Alex replied, raising his voice to be heard over the din of panicked shouts and pounding footsteps. "What the hell is happening?"

  "We're under attack," Weathers said, his voice tense. “Augustus and Beowulf are gone. Brix Station is…” He paused, and Alex looked up in time to see the first significant piece of the station break apart from the rest. His heart caught in his throat. “Brix Station is gone,” Weathers finished. “Shuttles are en route to extract all Marine personnel. Get your ass to the spaceport, now.”

  “Copy that, sir. Are you clear to activate our augmentation?”

  “I would if I could, but they hit the comms array first. Why do you think I’m calling you on your DA? Haul ass, Gunny.”

  "Copy that, sir." Alex ended the call, shouting to his squad. "Double time it, Scorpions! Shuttles inbound for evac to the fort!”

  They pushed forward with renewed urgency, Alex's heart pounding as he watched the battle unfold overhead. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a cold, focused anger. Whoever these bastards were, they had just made a deadly mistake.

  Alex picked out new contacts descending through the atmosphere as they neared the spaceport. Dropships, their angular silhouettes unmistakable. They looked like older model Armadillos, the kind that had been phased out of service years ago. Outworlders, then. Or maybe the Coalition of Independent Planets had decided they were done being punished for a war that had happened a generation ago.

  But why now? Why here, of all places? Killing special forces jarheads would be high-profile but not strategically significant.

  "Incoming!" he shouted, pointing skyward. "Twelve o'clock high!"

  The dropships swept low over the settlement, ducking under aerial sensor range. As Alex watched, their deployment ports yawned open, and a swarm of missiles belched forth, shooting towards the surface in a wild corkscrew pattern meant to throw off anti-missile defenses.

  A flight of Marine starfighters, sleek and deadly, rocketed up to meet the dropships, their cannons already spitting fire. Missiles and shells crisscrossed the sky, brief flares marking the detonations. One dropship took a series of direct hits, spinning out of control before slamming into the jungle below in a flash of flame.

  "Those missiles," Zoe said, her eyes widening with realization. "They're headed for..."

  "The fort," Alex finished, his stomach dropping. "They're targeting Fort Brix." Not that it was a huge surprise.

  What was a surprise was the second volley, angling in from their flank, their trajectory unmistakable.

  They were going to hit the spaceport.

  "Down!" Alex screamed, searching for Amelia. There, with her squad, rushing toward the spaceport ahead of them. "Everyone down!"

  His warning came just in time. A heartbeat later, the world exploded.

  The missiles slammed into the spaceport in a series of deafening booms, the shockwaves shattering the transparency around them. Shards of clear metal flew in all directions, scything through the packed corridor like a hail of razors.

  Alex felt the heat of the blast wash over him, the pressure slamming into his prone form like a physical blow. His ears rang, his vision swimming as he struggled to orient himself. Screams, wails, and moans rang out as humid air poured in.

  Alex pushed himself to his feet, eyes frantically searching what remained of the corridor through a haze of smoke and debris. His gaze tracked to where he had last seen Amelia, and he winced when he spotted her thrown against one of the passageway supports, a jagged shard of the corridor’s shell protruding from her temple. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the smoke-filled sky, the playful spark that had danced there only minutes before snuffed out forever.

  All of Hornet Squad had been caught too close to the terminal entrance when the missiles hit. Their bodies lay broken and twisted, a dark testament to the brutality of the attack. Alex wanted to mourn for Amelia, for all of them, but he didn’t have time for that now. He had other people depending on him. Others to save.

  “Scorpions, report!” Alex screamed over the chaotic din. His eyes shifted to the sky, where the Armadillos had launched air support drones, harrying the Marine starfighters to give the dropships time to land and unload their troops.

  The enemy didn’t intend to destroy the planet’s only settlements outright. They planned to capture them and take prisoners, likely to use them as leverage for whatever they wanted.

  “Scorpion Five reporting!” Zoe cried, coming up behind Alex with Jackson.

  “Scorpion Three reporting,” he said, still dazed but unharmed.

  “Scorpion Two reporting,” Sarah gasped painfully, appearing through the haze. She clutched her arm, blood seeping between her fingers from a deep gash.

  “Where’s Malik?” Jackson asked.

  “We need to find him,” Zoe said.

  Alex’s DA buzzed. He recovered it from his pocket. The screen was cracked, Weathers’ holographic image fuzzy when it appeared.

  “Gunny, thank the stars you’re alive,” he said.

  “Barely,” Alex replied. “We need medivac at the spaceport, asap. There are a lot of dead and wounded here, sir, including Scorpion Two.”