2nd Lt. Parry Mazurek looked up at the Earth's blue sky, still gold and pink around the edges with a new morning. She remembered the last time she had seen that sky. She had been walking through the base at Yelchin, head swimming with the possibility of her new orders, the probability that she may never set foot on Earth again.

Now, here she was. This wasn't the base at Yelchin, of course, but her head was still swimming, and she was still wondering if this moment wasn't going to be the last time she'd get to see the sky of her home world.

"You about ready?" Jon asked, clapping a hand on her shoulder. He was wearing full infantry gear, the same as she was. It was a lot heavier than their usual flight suits, and part of Parry was hoping they could have done this from the pit of a fighter, but she'd take what she could get. Staying behind was not an option. Not for this.

Another four dozen men and women were lined up on the tarmac, each in the same combat gear. General Rojas sat in a jeep, watching the muster and quick brief with both a tense and an almost hungry expression on his face.

Jon and Parry didn't need to be briefed, of course. They'd been there when the original plans had been laid down. There were four strike points, a dozen men and women for three of them, and fourteen for the fourth. Technically a Lt. Salta would be in command of this fourth group, but he'd been told to defer to Jon and Parry if the need arose.

Parry had no intention or anticipation of taking anything over for Salta- these were special forces marines, every one of them. While Jon and Parry had been in the midst of training for special forces these folks had been doing it as their bread and butter for a long time; some even longer than the pair of them had even been in the Confed.

"Yeah," Parry said to Jon. "I've been ready for this since the Front. Are they ready?"

Jon turned his head to follow her eyes. In the middle of the open tarmac, Ray and her cousin Eve stood. Thanks to the President's own physician, Ray now had a replacement for the prosthetic that had broken when they'd been captured by the Cats.

Eve had arrived the previous evening, as catatonic as had been claimed was the case since her brother's suicide. Literally three seconds in Ray's company (from the material universe's point of view, of course) and she'd woken up lively as a wire. She and Ray had eaten their way through nearly a full buffet, just the two of them, and drank an entire orchard's worth of apple juice.

"As ready as they can be," Jon said.

"She was catatonic less than eighteen hours ago," Parry said. "If we could afford to wait…"

But they couldn't. Time was slipping by like sand, and they couldn't risk that Surc might decide to make the executions of the Kilrathi's human prisoners a warm-up act rather than part of the grand finale celebrations.

Ray and Eve had been able to track only four locations where human prisoners were being currently held. The largest of these was the same prison camp where Rafe and the others were still being kept. When Ray had confirmed to Parry that Hammer was still alive and they were going to get him out, her first reaction had been to break down into tears of relief. Her second, to insist that she be on the extraction team going in to get them. It was her one and only flex of her current special dispensation as an ambassadorial delegate.

It was Ray and Eve's job to open the four jumps that would be needed for the infiltration teams to sweep in and get their people. They'd have to hold them open long enough for a retreat back, and almost an entire platoon was in reserve in case any hostiles came through as well.

They had to be quick, and hit all four prison camps at once. If a single report or distress message made it to one of the other camps before they could reach it, they risked losing their people.

Ray had assured Parry that she and Eve could each open and hold two jumps at a time, but that she had no idea what the result to them would be the moment those jumps closed.

"We'll probably faint," she had said, with a resigned shrug of her shoulders. She was in better shape than she had been when she'd opened that first portal to the President's conference room, but not by much. She had only opened one jump then, as well, and for a relatively short period of time. This time, she'd be opening two, and holding them open for several minutes.

And Eve…well. She was brand new to this, and not in the best physical shape herself. Several years in a catatonic state would do that to a person, even if they were sure to get IV nutrition or food through an eating tube. Standing next to Ray, Eve looked like a cancer patient that really should have been laying in a hospital somewhere.

What if she dies?

It was a thought that had been bouncing around in Parry's mind all morning. What if the physical toll of opening those jumps was too much for her to handle, and she just dropped dead? She'd asked that of Ray and Ray had again shrugged.

"She'd be back home," she said. "Now that she knows what she is, she's ok with that."

That may be, but Eve was actually secondary to Parry's concern. The real question she wanted to ask, and didn't dare, was what if Ray died.

She'd be back home too, she thought, and it didn't really help. She wouldn't really be dead, but she'd be about as far out of Parry's reach as to make no true difference. If her 'meat', as she called it, died, she'd be out in quantum space with the only way back being to attach herself to a child. Not only would that mean killing the child (unthinkable), it would mean she'd have to grow up again. It would mean her memories would all be wiped out…back to factory default, as it were. Even if Parry waited until she grew up again, she still wouldn't be the same person. Growing up again, with a new set of experiences, a new cluster of genetics to work with…it would leave its mark.

Leaving their people behind in the Kilrathi prisons, however, was not an option. And they had no time for Ray and Eve to experiment on what they could do safely; in a matter of days, the Cat Fleets would be in the Sol System and possibly the final war humankind would ever be in would be concluded. One experiment could physically be enough to put Ray and Eve out of the picture, even if it didn't kill them.

Leaving Jon's side, Parry went over to where Ray and her cousin stood. Medics were nearby as well, of course- to treat not only the two Nephilim, but the prisoners as soon as they came through. One, lingering closer than the others, had what looked like an entire pitcher of apple juice.

As Parry approached, Ray gave her cousin a touch on the shoulder, and then stepped past her toward Parry. As if she expected some kind of rebuke or argument, she looked almost bashfully at the other pilot.

"Hey," she said.

"How…" Parry started. She took off her helmet, then looked over at Eve for a moment. "How are you two doing?"

"Pretty good. About as well as can be expected," Ray said. "You?"

"Eager to get our people back," she said.

"Me too. You know they'd do the same for us."

Parry nodded, then cleared her throat. "Ray, I just…I know you can't tell me for sure if you will be ok. I know you don't know that yourself, but…just in case, I wanted to tell you-…"

"I know," Ray said. Stepping forward she took Parry's face in her hands and with no hesitation, kissed her.

Parry didn't give a shit that Jon, Rojas, and a hundred other soldiers were probably watching them. Humanity may very well be in its death throes, and either she or Ray could die here in the next half hour.

Fuck them anyway, she thought, as she put her arms around Ray and tried to make the moment last as long as it could. Far too soon, it ended.

"Go get our Hammer," Ray said softly, her forehead against Parry's.

"Yes ma'am," Parry replied back, just as softly. She gave Ray another quick kiss on the cheek and added in a soft whisper. "You stay alive, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," Ray whispered back. "You too."

Parry didn't dare say anything else. Stepping back, she gave Ray what she hoped was an encouraging smile, then put her helmet back on and returned to Jon.


A hush had fallen over the tarmac, so perfect that in the distance past the compound walls, an oblivious robin could be heard singing. Every marine was poised and ready to go, and every eye was fixed to the two women standing alone only a dozen yards away.

Ray and Eve exchanged a look over the twenty feet that separated them from the other, and nodded. Ray momentarily gave her arms a shake, as if waking them up, before both women lifted their hands. Unlike the cafeteria back in that mining colony, neither held their hands out directly in front of them, but one to each side. Much like the cafeteria, nothing seemed to happen.

Rojas, monitoring the scanner in the jeep, had his hand up in the air. The moment the four heatwave shimmers appeared, he dropped it.

The four strike teams rushed forward as one, each team aimed at a different jump. Parry, at the head of hers with Lt. Salta and Jon, glanced to her right just as they passed Ray. She looked okay so far, but the truth wouldn't be told until they closed the jumps, and that wouldn't be for ten minutes.

Ten minutes to get their people out and back through. Eve and Ray were trying to make it as quick and easy for everyone, opening their jumps in prison yards and bunkhouses, wherever the largest cluster of prisoners was at the time. With luck, they'd be free and gone before the Kilrathi even knew they were there.

Parry was military, however. And one thing every military man and woman knew, be they a pilot in a tourney or running a desk in a cozy HQ somewhere- luck was never on your side. If a thing could go tits up, it went tits up, and no amount of physics or logic could stop it. It was a law of its own.

Parry lowered her weapon and flipped on her guide light the moment she crossed the hastily scrawled chalk X on the tarmac, marking where the jump was. They went from a brilliant outside morning to a gloomy, stuffy, musty half-twilight. A dark room spread out before them, made from wood and some kind of cement. Forms, most of them asleep, lay on piles of old blankets or clothes that cushioned them from the hard floor.

At the far end of the room, which was almost large enough to be a hanger, a dozen or so shadows crouched, whispering to each other.

The rush of soldiers into the room immediately alerted this group, who straightened into defensive postures. Several laying around on the make-shift pallets stirred awake. Some of the marines immediately started getting these men and women to their feet, ushering them back toward where the invisible jump still stood open behind them.

Parry headed for the group of shadows near the far end when she noticed one shade in particular was rather large. She was careful to move her guide light only over his shoulders and chin, but he winced against it and lifted a hand anyway.

"The fuck-?"

"Rafe, we're getting you out of here," she said in a harsh whisper as she reached the group. Jon stopped at her side, but a pair of the other marines moved past to secure what looked like the main door, just a few feet away.

"Princess?" He blinked in stupefaction at her, and her heart clenched as she could see the hollows of his cheekbones, the angry red scars over his head and face where the Cat had slashed him back on Provaktor.

"Oh my God," another familiar voice said. "Reaper? Angel, is it really-?"

"It's us, Judy," Jon said. "Is this everyone here?"

"No," another familiar voice. Parry's light picked out a woman's face as she pushed in past Rafe. She had always thought it looked rather severe, but with her sun-starved skin and the gaunt of malnutrition, Amanda Briggs looked downright witch-like. "They took Abru two days ago."

"Abru?" Parry blinked, but it was lost as Rafe spoke up again.

"Evalyn too, they took her this morning," he said. "Pass me one of those rifles, Jon, and let's go teach these fucking Cats a thing or two."

Jon gripped Rafe's arm. "I appreciate the fire, Hammer, but you're in no shape to- "

"Fuck that," Rafe said in a low, angry tone. "I'm not leaving them behind."

"No one's leaving anyone behind," Jon told him, as Parry gave a quick glance at her chrono.

"Seven minutes thirty," she warned Jon.

"I don't have time to explain or argue, Rafe," Jon said. "Where did the Cats take them?"

"They put Abru into solitary," Briggs said, and gestured at the door behind them. "She had an escape plan, but they caught her. I think they mean to shoot her at sun-up. This leads out into the yard. It's directly across, building to the north. She'd be in one of the underground cells."

"Guards?"

"Tower to the east, one to the west," Rafe said. "Guard on each. There'll be at least two on solitary, and two on Abru's door. She put one of them in the ground, they're taking no chances. Evalyn's going to be in the stocks. I can take you right to her."

Jon looked at Rafe, and even in the gloom Parry didn't miss the way his jaw muscle knotted.

"Solitary sounds like the cells that they put Ray in," Parry said to Jon. He nodded.

"I'll head that way. Parry, you head to the stocks." He pulled out his pistol and passed it to Rafe. "Show her. The rest of you, that way, and no argument."

He directed them down the now nearly empty barracks where the jump waited. Salta came up to them with several of the other marines.

"Room's just about clear save this lot," he said to Jon, and looked at his crono. "Six thirty until the jump closes."

"Jump-?" Judy asked, clearly bewildered.

"We have a couple strays," Jon said to Salta. "One woman in the stocks, another in solitary. I'm going to hit solitary, Rafe is going to show you where the stocks are, get that one out."

"What about Ray?" Judy asked. "Did you get her already? The last we saw she was being carried out- "

"Ray's safe, there'll be a full debrief once we're out of here," Jon said. "Go now, Tink. That way. You five, come with me to solitary. Salta, grab four and go with Parry and Rafe."

"Rest of you, keep this area secure," Salta said, gesturing at the remaining few marines. "If we're not back in five minutes, get through that jump and out of here."

Rafe had already gone to the door, peering out its small barred aperture. He stepped aside only when Salta came up with a thermite lock cutter. In seconds, the door was open.

Wordlessly, they went lights out, switching to infrared. A pair of snipers went out first, quickly spotting the towers. The two shots blended into a single, muffled pop! and the tower guards went down.

The group split, half streaming toward the building that Briggs had mentioned, Parry following Rafe with the others toward the stocks. The big man moved quietly on his bare feet, keeping close to the wall.

He stopped and gestured silently, and Parry just caught sight of another Cat guard near a platform, when it suddenly dropped to a sniper shot as well. Rafe hurried toward the platform, Parry at his heels.

Rows of stocks, most thankfully empty, lined this platform ahead of a set of posts bearing manacles. Parry didn't have to glance at those to know what they were. The firing line and the smears of old blood on them told the tale.

Rafe ran without hesitation to one of the further stocks, dropping down to his knees and setting his pistol on the ground beside him as he gently took hold of the head of the woman trapped there.

"Ev?" he whispered. "Ev?"

"Rafe?" a thin, shaky whisper replied. He smiled, and for a moment Parry thought she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, as she hurried around to his other side.

"Yeah, it's me," he said. "We're getting you out. Hang tight."

Parry went down on one knee beside him as Salta and his thermite cutter began to work on the stocks. He had to move carefully to avoid burning the woman trapped in them, and time was slipping away like sand. The others were standing in a cluster around them, rifles pointed in every direction, but so far no alarm had been raised.

"Blade, wasn't it?" Parry said gently to the woman, and darkly hollowed eyes shifted to her.

"I don't…"

"It's Angel," Rafe said, and the look he gave Parry was almost ferocious in its love. "Our fucking beautiful Angel."

"Will you be able to walk?" Parry asked, grateful that her flaring red cheeks could not be seen.

"Yeah, I can…" she let out a faintly pained sound as the stock arm came loose, and then lifted. Rafe rose, helping her get to her feet. Parry picked up the pistol and shook her head as she straightened as well.

"She's may be able to walk but she's going to be too stiff," she said. "Carry her. Back to the barracks, we only have two minutes."

He didn't argue, but swept Blade up off her feet and started back at a trot toward the barracks. Parry holstered the pistol and the marines followed, but turned back quickly at the sudden sound of gunfire.

Shadows were spilling out of the building where Jon and the others had gone. Salta jabbed a thumb at his marines with a quick 'go!', indicating the barracks, before he and Parry started to run toward the shadows. At the front was Jon, half carrying another figure and moving as quickly as he could toward them. Behind him, the other marines were firing toward the building. The angry roaring of the Cats could be heard, and an alarm had started to wail. Any moment, they'd be swarmed.

Parry darted in without thought, flinging her arms around the figure with Jon and hefting them up. Freed, Jon turned and joined his fire with the others as Parry sprinted toward the barracks. As Parry swept the form up, it grabbed the pistol in her hand with practiced ease, twisting and firing over Parry's shoulder. Despite her helmet, every shot rang through her ears.

She darted through the barracks door just in time to see Rafe and Blade vanish through the jump. Two marines moved out past Parry to help lay cover fire, and the person in her arms dropped the empty pistol, grabbing on to Parry with a surprising strength and spitting epithets behind them as efficiently as she had spit bullets. By the time Parry reached the jump, those epithets were mingled with furious and triumphant laughter.

The dark of the barracks burned away into brilliant sun once again. Parry kept running for a dozen steps before finally slowing, and almost immediately a pair of medics were there, taking the prisoner from her arms.

Abru Dorsa- also known as Haleh Golpari, callsign Crazy Jane- twisted in the medic's arms and pointed back toward the jump.

"You fucking Cats!" she shouted, in a voice that sounded rasped with sandpaper. "You goddamn fucking Cats! I'd tell you to go fuck yourselves but I'm pretty sure you'd be disappointed!"

Her shouts and laughter could still be heard long after she vanished from sight.