a/n: Thanks for the technical advice; I'll change that aircraft model number the next time I revise that chapter.

Chapter 4.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

It was almost a relief to find the locks on Kaname's door already picked.

Sousuke had begun his part of the assignment by avoiding it – or rather by attending to details only peripherally related to Kaname. A review of the clinic's blueprints had revealed a few challenges which could prove troublesome; namely, that the clinic was on the fourth floor of a four-building complex, which surrounded an inner garden/park. Patient rooms all had windows, however those windows faced the garden, and would therefore be somewhat more difficult to infiltrate without being seen via the windows of the three other buildings. Far from an impossible problem, given that surveillance from one of the facing buildings was unlikely, but he noted it while thinking of the likelihood that Kaname would shout at him, echoing her voice off the other walls and possibly alerting the "neighbors." She would shout at him, wouldn't she?

He'd spent several disturbing moments reflecting on the rescues of other Whispereds. Of the five with which he'd personally been involved, two had behaved in what might be called an ordinary fashion, but three had been... well, lost. Their eyes had held a curious distance, a blankness that was at once unnerving and saddening. They were the eyes of victims: eyes which had seen too much, and had given up on viewing the real world because of it. When they spoke, their words were disjointed. Sometimes, only obscure and technical phrases passed their lips. Other times, they repeated words over and over, or muttered incomprehensibly. Would Kaname be like these? Had she fallen into that grey space that MITHRIL coldly classified as "end-stage"? He pictured having to tranquilize her and load her onto a helicopter bound for one of their Whispered research facilities, as he'd done three times before, and shuddered at the thought. Perfectly reasoned military protocols somehow made less sense when applied to friends... or one-time loves.

But perfectly executed assignments were what was expected of him. He would not fail. Better not to think about the specific person involved. He decided that collecting Kaname's things would be a good place to start. Actual acquisition of the individual herself could wait until the last possible moment, so as to keep complications to a minimum. That's right, anything to keep from having to actually talk to her. He refocused on the blueprints. There wasn't anything remotely resembling a good "parking" space for the M-9, and extricating Kaname really shouldn't require that kind of firepower anyway. Best plan would likely be to go in on foot, take the stairs to the roof, drop a rappelling line, enter through her window, and retreat the same way.

A recent photograph indicated she was about the same size she'd been in high school, so carrying her would not be a problem, provided she didn't resist too much. Kaname had not been trained in martial arts or street fighting when he'd known her, but her unpredictability and overall athletic skill had been sufficient to take him down a time or two. Admittedly, on those occasions, he had not been regarding her as a threat, and further, had been under strict orders not to injure her, but it was still reasonable to assume she could make life difficult. Was it odd that he almost hoped she would? The thought of a wrestling match with Kaname was not without its appeal... What am I thinking?!

There could be some complications regarding medications. According to the representative's report, Kaname was being kept mildly sedated most of the time, and more importantly, had sustained a head injury in the initial incident. That meant subduing her, in the event she did not come willingly, could be tricky. Tranquilizers were right out – drug interactions being outside his field of expertise – and blows to the head could be lethal. Of course, that always left simply tying her up, or choking her... he made a mental note to bring duct tape in addition to the usual zip ties. He truly hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Thinking of the mechanics of kidnapping, his mind wandered to thoughts of those societies in which kidnapping women had entirely other meanings. The parallels brought him up short. A thrill of guilt washed over him and he blushed. If you're honest with yourself, that is what you're about to do. You've held her in your mind as some kind of paramour: a distant, untouchable Lady, whose sleeve you wear into battle. You've imagined this meeting a hundred times—the knight errant returning to his muse, his inspiration, the one for whom he fights. It was a pretty, poetic fantasy, but now, walking towards her apartment building, the reality was forcibly intruding. She hasn't been waiting for you. She didn't give you her sleeve to wear. The truth is, she seems to have moved on with her life, and she probably won't appreciate the reappearance of the otaku who made her high school years hell. Especially when the knight arrives too late to save her...

Guilt and anger at whoever had hurt Kaname colored his thoughts. How could that scientist have involved her in his project? Why on earth would she have gone along with it? Kaname hated the military, hated arm slaves, and despised intrigue – except perhaps in the field of gossip and interpersonal relationships. She had always seemed to have something of a gift in that arena, at least from his vantage point. He wished he were as perceptive as she in the field of human emotions. Then, perhaps he wouldn't be sitting here, wondering just what a girl thought of him who inarguably had once been his best friend.

Would it matter to her that he'd changed? His teammates had remarked on the improvement to his ability to assess risks and minimize side-effects and collateral damage when dealing with them. He was no longer the king of overkill, for all that he was still renowned for his thoroughness in handling threats. Did it matter that the conscience who preached moderation in the back of his mind had blue hair and brown eyes?

Enough. This line of thought is distracting you from your task. He entered the building, an unassuming four-storey affair less than half a mile from campus, took the back staircase to the fourth floor, and was about to pick the lock on her door when he noticed the marks. Someone has already been here? Immediately, life was simpler. The emotional ramifications of a three year separation might be almost incomprehensible, but intruders in a friend's apartment were something he could handle.

---

Two deadbolts and the regular door lock. Kyoko hummed as she carefully unlocked her friend's door. Joel had given her Chikitaka-san's dupes of Kaname's keys on Monday, and she'd finally decided to come over and water the plants and such. She seriously doubted Kaname would be home tomorrow – the nurse had mentioned that she was scheduled for an MRI at 11:00 and would likely not be available for visits until after two o'clock. Still, whenever Kaname did manage to get released, a clean apartment with live plants would probably be a lot better for her mood than whatever shape she'd left the place in. Hmm, and moving her pictures of Yoshi somewhere inconspicuous might be a good idea too.

The door swung open about half way, before catching on something. Kyoko edged through, then abruptly tugged her camera out of one pocket and began snapping away while her mind tried to adjust to what was going on. Kaname's apartment was a mess. Drawers were emptied on the floor, books scattered all over her desk and sofa, and the kitchenette was a jungle of cooking utensils, dishes and napkins. She was about to call the police when she heard a noise from the bedroom. A good photojournalist would get a picture of the bad guy if she could, she told herself, feeling a combination of excitement at possibly scooping a story for the campus news and fear—bad guys having a tendency to do mean things. Kaname would want to know who broke her antique tea set. Motivation found. Quietly setting her purse on the floor, she pulled out a cannister of pepper spray, and holding it in one hand and her camera in the other, crept towards the bedroom door. It began to open. She held her breath, and... pepper spray and Glock 18 squared off beneath the surprised countenances of their owners.

"Kyoko!"

"Sousuke?!?"

---

"I've switched on the power to charge the capacitors. They were just about empty when I checked them the last time. This way we'll be able to move her, if you like." This was not precisely true, but he still wasn't sure he wanted to confess having been here every day for the past week after the police had left. Just because he was now pretty sure that this was in fact one of Kaname's acquaintances from high school didn't mean she wouldn't communicate his indiscretions to the local authorities. In point of fact, the capacitors had been drained down to nothing and Saya had been left standing with the wrong heel on the contact point, smashing the coupling all out of usefulness. He'd had to enlist his roommate's help to wrestle the old coupling out of the fixture—Jan wasn't the sharpest nail in the box, but he was strong—and had subsequently "borrowed" a suitable replacement from the industrial robotics lab down the hall.

The bigger problem had been that he couldn't find Saya's remote access headset. Yoshi had developed it to communicate with Saya while wandering around the lab. He claimed he couldn't think as well when actually in the machine. The headset was damn handy, but there hadn't been sign one of it in the lab or the hidden storage cabinet, and he'd had to jury-rig his laptop to interface with the A.I. for maintenance and such. It was almost painfully slow by comparison. I wonder if Yoshi kept a spare at his house? That thought hadn't occurred to him before, but he added it to the list of things he needed to check out once they'd finished up in here.

Joel lead Mao down into the lab, past the police tape and into that horrible room. He gestured for her to go on ahead while he paused to get the lights, and while her back was to him, he tried a "covert" check of Yoshi's floor cabinet. It looked like any other slab of the concrete, and the sweeping marks he'd made over it the last time he'd been here did not appear to be disturbed. Good. Beyond that, it was obvious the cops had removed pretty much anything that wasn't pinned down. Most of the debris had been cleared away and the place seemed almost tidy, but the stains on the floor remained. He swallowed hard, and ignored them, heading to the back of what had been the containment room where Saya stood waiting.

---

"So you're here to rescue her." After the initial shock of running into a familiar face in an unexpected situation, Kyoko had calmed down surprisingly quickly. Sousuke's explanation that he had encountered the room as she saw it while coming to visit an old friend, and had subsequently attempted (unsuccessfully) to pursue the perpetrator didn't seem to register with her, as her mind apparently came up with its own rationale. "It's just like high school," she smiled at him, even as tears brimmed in her eyes, "Some bad guy messed up her apartment and you're going to protect her from him, right? I just wish she could see you. She'd be so happy..."

"Would she?" The question came out more seriously than he'd intended. Kyoko looked at him with the innocently accurate perception that had always been her forte, then nodded.

"It has been a long time, and a lot has happened, and there was Yoshi and Joel and all their work. She's told me a thousand times how over you she is, but Sousuke, the thing to remember is that she's told me a thousand times." She looked him in the eye to see if he understood. Failing to find comprehension, she began to pick through the debris scattered around the closet. "You're supposed to get some stuff to take with her on a trip?"

"Yes, that is my objective in this location."

"I won't ask why. I think a trip would probably be really good for her right now, well, at least if there's any risk of her winding up like Yoshi. I think someone had it in for them." she found Kaname's largest backpack, and set it on the bed beside Sousuke. "I can help pack, if you want... I know what she likes to wear."

"Thank you. That would be helpful. We will likely be visiting locations with relatively warm climates."

"How romantic," she smiled, finding the hammer she'd been looking for and tapping the back of the closet. Sousuke blushed, thought about commenting, and decided against it. Kyoko reached further into the closet and tugged on something, stumbling back with a wooden box, slightly larger than a shoebox in her arms. "While I pack, you can look at this, but only if you'll promise never to tell her that I showed you."

"If you do not believe Kaname would want me to see this, I do not see how..."

"Silly, she wants you to see it, she just doesn't want you to know that she wants you to see it. She thought she was never going to see you again." She set the box on his lap, then began picking clothing up off the floor, folding it and placing it in the backpack. Sousuke, nonplussed but curious, opened the box. Inside, he was startled to discover his letters. Every letter he'd ever sent was there, along with postcards and printouts of emails. Pictures of himself from his time at school were tied in stacks beneath the letters, along with one or two photos, which he knew had been taken aboard the de Danaan. A closed manilla envelope was folded along one side. In the bottom of the box was a journal. The pages were filled with newspaper clippings, first of the various "incidents" at the high school, but further in the book, he began to find reports of terrorist uprisings, drug cartel infighting, child slavery rings, and numerous other such criminal activities with the sole commonality of having been mysteriously done away with or otherwise brought to justice. More than half of them were events in which MITHRIL had played a role. Had she been trying to keep tabs on him?

"Did she show all of this to you?,"

"All of what?" Kyoko paused in collecting toiletries to look over his shoulder at the journal. "Hmm. No, she never showed me those. Maybe she missed all the adventure in her life." She laughed, and resumed packing. "You know, life got pretty boring for a while without you."

"Until she became involved with Chikitaka-san?" He hadn't meant to ask, but couldn't help it. Kyoko picked up a pair of socks and folded it.

"Yoshi did make life interesting for her, but it was different with him. It's a little hard to explain. They needed each other." She placed the socks in the bag and began with another. "At first, I thought they might wind up together, but then they got to working on that science project of his and they kinda changed. They were friends, like partners in crime. I think they might have been in love, but it was almost like until that thing was done, they couldn't move on with their lives. Sometimes you'd see them together and it was like they were brother and sister. Sometimes, they were like business partners. Then about four months ago, she started spending the night with him about once a week," she gathered a couple pairs of shoes while Sousuke coughed. Kyoko giggled. "She said they spent it in the lab. She'd done that a few times before, but not that often, and she started getting kinda weird."

"In what way?"

"Paranoid. Like you," she laughed. Then her face sobered and she sat down beside him. "She started taking self-defense classes and learning how to shoot, and one night, the two of us went out and had a little too much sake and next thing I know, she's laughing and telling me that if she dies, she wants me to send you her letters - they're the ones in that manilla envelope - and tell her dad she's sorry she wasn't a more traditional daughter. She was pretty drunk and definitely in a weird mood, but I think she might have been serious." Kyoko stood up and walked into the living room, leaving Sousuke to ponder what she'd said. The journal was surprisingly accurate. He considered opening the manilla envelope, but decided against it – it felt too much like an invasion of her privacy. In shifting it, however, he saw the edge of a map, folded beside it. He removed it and upon unfolding it was shocked to discover it was a nautical chart of the Mediterranean-- with the de Daanan's movements over the past month precisely and accurately charted. How on earth had she-- He heard Kyoko returning, and quickly poured the full contents of the box into the backpack on the bed.

"I think I've got everything worth taking. She's in some pretty serious trouble, isn't she?" Kyoko had returned with something held behind her back. She stared him in the eye as he nodded, then she sighed. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically soft, and serious. "Please take good care of her, Sousuke. She's not herself right now and you two haven't seen each other in so long, and I know she's not always the easiest to get along with, but she's my best friend." Kyoko bowed her head, letting her bangs hide her eyes, and held out a familiar paper fan. "Please don't let anything else happen to her."

He took the halisen, and placed it in the top of the backpack, before slinging the latter over his shoulder. He took one last look at the devastated room. "I will protect her, no matter what." With that, he stood, said goodbye to Kyoko and left the apartment. A quick snap of the camera captured his back as he walked down the hall.

"Good luck, you two." And Kyoko's inner romantic gave a blissful sigh as she picked up the phone to call the police.

---

Now that she was actually standing in front of the thing, Mao had to admit a certain fascination for the miniature arm slave or powered suit or whatever the hell this thing was. It looked almost like an arm slave costume that one might rent for Halloween, if one had the kind of money to afford that detail. It stood about seven feet tall, with one heel braced in some sort of lock on the floor. The front seemed to be constructed of a number of solid, presumably armored, panels wired together over an inner structure of a darker material. Small lenses that might have been some sort of miniaturized ECN generators sprouted at the joints. Tubing ran along the outsides of the limbs and into the joints, yet the overall appearance was surprisingly streamlined. The "head" looked as though it would be fairly close fitting, and she took note of the fact that there didn't appear to be any air holes. Around the back, what looked like a armored backpack with wings obscured the entry method, whatever that might have been.

Joel left the room for a moment, returning from the outer lab with a laptop computer and some cabling. "I don't have enough access to tell you all that much about her, but whatever you'd like to know, I'll do my best to answer." He plugged the cables into ports in the "head" and then settled himself on the floor (there weren't any chairs) as the laptop accessed the project data files.

"Is it on?" There didn't seem to be any lights or noise to indicate that power was in fact running into the machine.

"Oh, yep. There's a period of about three minutes while it tests its circuitry and connections before turning on the lights. If there were a pilot in there, the system would use this time to get its authorization, and double check its GPS coordinates. See?" He held up the laptop, where the message "Circuit integrity check running." glowed in blue letters.

"So it takes three minutes before a pilot could even use it? That seems like it would be a rather large disadvantage." What if you had to start up under fire, or reboot after an attack? Three minutes wasn't all that long to take a shower or boil an egg, but to survive in a combat situation, it would be a veritable eternity.

"I guess that depends on what you want to do with it. This was never meant to be some sort of weapon." He watched the numbers counting down on the display. "Yoshi had a brother in the U.S. who was killed on assignment to Iraq, so he really wasn't a fan of weapons."

"His brother was a soldier?"

"A reporter. One of Yoshi's original ideas for this thing was that it could be a sort of armor used by war correspondents, both to ensure that the reporters were safe, and to help them get close enough to the action to give the folks back home the most accurate coverage."

"Huh." She looked more closely at the heel brace. "What's this?"

"Power connection. It takes a lot of power to charge the capacitors and run this thing."

"So how long can it run when it's not plugged in?"

"Hmm, that's actually kind of tricky. See, from my calculations, it should only be able to run for about half an hour, but one of the tests Yoshi ran had the thing running disconnected for over four hours." He paused as the display indicated the end of the systems check, typed in a request for the most recent test records, and switched off the sound. "I'm not sure how he did it, though. Lately, he'd gotten really secretive about the whole thing."

"Is that why there aren't any notes?" Mao noticed that the Lab Assistant suddenly became very interested in the readouts.

"Yeah, that's probably the reason."

"Uh huh. So, did this thing cause the explosion or whatever the hell it was that destroyed the lab?"

"I don't honestly know."

"But you have a theory." She locked gazes with him and it was as clear as crystal that he'd rather write a two hundred page paper on the science of unnecessarily complicated things than give her a straight answer. "It's really important that I know. My people and I are planning to transport this thing, and I sure as hell don't want to deal with any surprises if I don't have to."

"You said you were a friend of Kaname's; how close?" Lights began to flicker along the exposed tubing on the outside edges of the suit, momentarily distracting the Sergeant Major.

"It's kinda hard to explain."

"Well, would you help her move, or would you help her move bodies?" He looked up to get her reaction.

"Move, I guess. But she was very important to someone who is very important to me, so for that reason, I guess I'd probably go the extra mile to take care of her. How far gone is she?"

"Last I saw her, it looked like maybe she was coming around. Of course, a lot of that could be the drugs talking. They've been keeping her dosed to the gills whenever company is around." Add calling Kyoko to find out how that walk went to the to do list...He checked his watch: 19:18. Well it's not like I was planning to sleep tonight anyway. "Anyway, theory number one: someone planted a bomb in the lab and that's what caused all this. Yoshi was one of the most rational guys I know, so for him to be dreaming up security measures and walking around like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs" and telling me about Kaname in case he died "there must have been someone threatening him."

"And theory number two?"

"Lambda driver accident. The pilot screwed up royally and blew the lab to kingdom come." A line of text scrolled across the interface window, citing activity since the last run—none—and listing off status for all the components he had access to. Same as last time, but he feigned a believable surprise. "Huh. Well it looks like whatever happened fried the primary sensors and recorders. They seem to be working now, but they overloaded the last time this thing was running. Other than that, it's all normal. I can't check on the status for the advanced capabilities, but sensors, recorders, life-support, power and motor-control are all normal."

"This thing has a lambda driver?" Where the hell did they put it?

"Miniaturized," he typed a few words into the laptop, unaware of the stunned expression on his audience's face.

"So you know what a lambda driver is? And Chikitaka-san knew how to build one? How to build a miniature one?"

"Oh good, Saya decided to wake up. Where did you put your remote headset, girl?" he muttered in Dutch. Words scrolled in answer. Oh shit. He turned back to Mao, carefully deleting the last response. "As for the first, no, I don't really know what a lambda driver does, just that it's powerful and can blow things up—that's why my authorization on the system doesn't permit use of the advanced capabilities. But yes, I'd say Chikitaka knew how to build one since according to what he told me, the results were all within expected parameters."

Mao sighed and looked at the machine with new respect. "So what's it going to take to move this thing?"

"Well, the simplest way to move it would be to pack it in foam, put it in a crate and move it that way. The connection point and power source would need to be replicated at whatever lab you moved it to, and you'd have to be really careful with the fragile bits, like those field restriction fins on the back and the coolant tubing along the sides. The thing weighs about 330 kilos, so you're going to need a forklift to get it into the box," he thought for a moment, "or I could walk it into the box for you. I have enough access to walk it around within this building, since it was kinda hard to clean around."

"Does it have any explosives, munitions, volatile fuels or anything else, hazmat-wise that we'd need to worry about?" Mao had stepped back from her observation of the suit and was now looking at the laptop over the assistant's shoulder.

"Well, the coolant contains freon, and there are some rather icky chemicals in the capacitors and the hydraulic system, but nothing likely to blow up on you. It's pretty well self-contained and unlikely to leak. Safety was a top priority for the project." He went on to show her the folders of materials safety data sheets for the chemicals, safety cutoffs for the power sources and other points that might be important in shipping. "You want to be careful about the camera lenses," he pointed to what she'd thought were ECN generators, "They scratch easily and are tough to replace. Just remember that it takes sixteen lens caps and you're good."

"Going back to the part about walking this thing into a box: could you show me how to pilot it? I mean, how long would it take?"

"I've never been in any normal A-S's so I don't know how similar they are, but I'd guess they wouldn't be too different. You want to try it?" He flipped on the sound and typed one last command into the computer. The "backpack" on the unit clicked open with a hiss, the entire assembly gliding upwards to reveal what looked oddly like the inside of a mascot's costume, only with A-S controls carefully worked into the arm and leg holes and bits of circuitry everywhere.

/Welcome, Joel-san. One-run pilot authorization for routine maintenance access is accepted. Warning—access to advanced capabilities has been denied. Please introduce me to Sergeant Major Melissa Mao/.

"I think I will take it over from here."

---

"The latest report from our operative at the school?" Kalinin had been summoned to the Captain's office once again.

"Yes, I've made you a copy. It took quite a bit of digging, but apparently, major funding for this project was arranged through Vrees Mining. According to the grant, they believe that the technology would be invaluable in deep-shaft operations and underwater mining."

"But Vrees..." The Lt. Commander looked over the report. "Venserre Consortium?"

"Ah, so you remembered that," the Captain twitched the end of her braid through suddenly restless fingers. "Yes, Vrees is one of the Venserre Consortium's front companies. It appears the arms dealers may have been involved in this project for over a year now. Interestingly enough, the wording of the intellectual property agreement specifies that Vrees only gets access to all research documents and diagrams, and first bid on the production contract. Tokyo University retained rights to all products and discoveries of the research, including the prototype. Someone was very shrewd in arranging this, however given the caliber of lawyers on retainer for Vrees, you have to wonder why they didn't negotiate a better deal." Tessa had considerable experience when it came to intellectual property rights. The negotiations, agreements and contracts pertaining to her work on the De Danaan had been complicated in the extreme, and constituted something of a crash course in the field.

"If they intended to steal the technology all along, access to the notes would have been more than sufficient for them to do so."

"Except that there are no notes." She pondered the stack of papers in front of her. "So why haven't they stolen the prototype?"

"Perhaps there were notes, which the corporation managed to acquire before the scientist died. It seems unlikely that something as complex as an arm slave could be built without the assistance of some diagrams. If nothing else, certain components would have to have been contracted out for shaping and such—there's nothing to indicate that this Chikitaka person had a forge at his disposal."

"Interesting causes for speculation. At this point, I think all that we can be certain of with regards to Venserre is that they could be a problem. The team should be advised to move immediately. Tomorrow at the latest."

"They plan to move the item tonight. In addition, I believe that both Miss Chidori and Mr. Vermeer can be removed to safe locations expeditiously." He watched the Captain trying to read her concerns.

"Yes. I think that would be wise. Also, tell the team to be very careful when dealing with Miss Chidori."

"You know they would never harm her."

"I'm more concerned that she may harm them."

"More dreams?"

"Well," Tessa shuddered involuntarily remembering the last "dream." Gunshots in the night and a bloom of red spreading across the ground... She moved to stand, hit her knee on the edge of the desk, swore sotto voce, and sat back down to rub at the offending joint. "She's in a lot of pain."

"And yourself?"

Tessa quickly arranged a smile on her face, and smoothed her skirt. "I'm fine. I'll be perfectly happy as soon as we have everything finished."

"Of course, Madame Captain. I'll relay the messages right away."

"Thank you, Commander."

---

The sergeant and the student whirled to face the man standing at the back of the room. Mao instinctively drew her gun, even as she heard the shot and saw Joel crumple to the floor. She saw a second man behind the first and fired three shots at the pair, even as bullets thudded into the wall and floor, missing her by inches. The pair separated, the first heading towards Saya, seemingly unconcerned by the fire-fight, while the second dodged behind one of the room's concrete support columns. Mao ducked behind another, dragging Joel's limp form along.

/Voice print accepted. Enter when ready/. She heard a hiss and a click and suddenly the A-S behind them was moving. Dammit all to hell. She ignored it, took careful aim around the column, and fired her clip empty. Four shots in, she saw the man go down, as a chip of concrete from the column, behind which she was sheltering, split with the impact of his last hit and struck her in the eye. She dragged Joel further around the column to put more of it between the two of them and the A-S and yanked the comm unit from her vest. Blood was streaming down her face.

"Urzu-6, this is Urzu-2, we've been ambushed and are under attack, do you copy!"

"Copy that, Urzu-2, I'm on my way."

"Belay that. They've got the project, and I'm pinned down with wounded. You've got to keep them from getting out of the damn building." The A-S had removed its foot from the floor outlet and was yanking the laptop connection cables from its head. From the door to the containment room, a barrage of machine gun fire pounded the interior in her direction. She loaded another clip. "Get word to Urzu-7 to get the secondary objective as far from here as possible."

"Understood. You hang in there. Those bastards don't get to win that easy."