They didn't have time to do much else. "I'll go out," Robert said. "I can start removing this torpedoes while remaining in the shield."

"And we'll get defenses set up should the shield fail," Colin answered.

Gene went with Robert to the door and opened it for him. Robert stepped outside, alone. There was just enough space within the shield dome for him to take several steps toward the perimeter. The enemy troopers raised weapons but did not fire.

Robert noticed one approach who was not Coserian. A human male with cybernetic enhancements, with olive-toned skin, he spoke with an unrecognizable accent. "Have you come to negotiate terms?"

Robert replied by cutting his hand through the air in front of him. The gesture made focusing his will easier, and focus it he did, causing a blade of force to slice through the air and smash the nearest torpedo, breaking it to pieces. Robert turned his attention to the next and repeated the process again and again, knowing that each torpedo broken bought them more time.

But they had more than he'd imagined. Even as some beams died, others started to fire up elsewhere, in an arc surrounding the structure. Undaunted, Robert continued to smash them.

The deflector shield strength was decreasing every moment that preparations were made for the necessary sally from the bunker. As the two Psi Cops got the teams ready with the planned equipment, Hawk leaned over where Becca was sitting. "How's the wound?"

For a moment Becca said nothing, consulting the nanites through her neural controls for them. They helpfully provided an overlay in her vision, no different than the kind Colin had used telepathically to explain Hawk's brain, that reflected the damage in question. "Internal injuries are healed," she said. "They're sealing the epidermal injuries."

"And your lung cavity?"

"Clear of air. Everything's fine."

"Still, I want you to stay in here," Hawk said. He handed her a bar from his ration pack. "Get your energy back up and finish healing."

"You're going to need everyone you can get…"

"And we'll have it," he insisted. "These Corps types are well-armed, relatively anyway." He stood and picked up his rifle. "Get your energy back up and heal up. If we need you, you'll know."

Becca watched him join the others. The bunker door slid open and the Corps telepaths went out. They'd trained for this kind of activity, and under the guidance of the two Psi Cops they set up portable energy barriers to take cover behind, creating a defensive line outside of the bunker. Hawk leveled his rifle. Most of the enemy cybertroopers were taking cover to avoid fire they couldn't retaliate to, but he picked a couple off before they could get out of sight.

As they set up Robert moved to the other side of the building, where more shield disruptors were being employed. Again and again he smashed them, even as the shield dome visibly lost strength. This is going to be close...

Coserian cybertroopers in close quarters were incredibly dangerous to any foe, given their speed and resilience, and Lucy was careful in dealing with the ones ahead. Their EM-shielded blades, made of metal not dissimilar to that of Gersallian lakeshes, gave them some immediate resilience against lightsabers.

But only some.

After four parries Lucy successfully cleaved through one of the blades, splitting it in half before maneuvering her weapon to slice through its wielder's neck, destroying vital circuitry and effectively killing the creature. Its partner swiped again, blade already glowing from prior contact with her weapon. Lucy dodged the swipe and retaliated with her own. The last thing the Coserian cybertrooper saw was blue light coming toward its head.

There was a sharp impact behind Lucy. Talara, fatigued but determined, threw another attacker against the far bulkhead. These were not cybertroopers but regular crew, armed but not able to resist being stunned by the impacts from Talara's efforts. She fired a stun shot that put the man down. "There are human crew too."

"Right." Lucy stepped over the two slain cybertroopers. They were basic ones, arguably already dead and nothing more than combat drones installed into mindless bodies. If she were still using a lakesh the fight might've taken half an hour, if she won at all. If the Coserians ever figure out new countermeasures against our weapons, these things will be pains in the ass, Lucy thought as she tried to access the door. She sensed fear on the other end of the door, fear and despair, with some smattering of hope.

This time the hacking app wasn't coming through. The security on the cargo door was enhanced to the degree that Lucy had to shut down her omnitool to keep counter-attack software from causing any damage. It was as if a dedicated AI had control of the confinement system. "Alright, the direct way," she said. She thrust her lightsaber into the heavy metal portal. The metal around her blade turned white hot and started melting, giving off heat that would have baked her hands if she weren't in her combat armor. She slowly ran the lightsaber up the door, melting away more of it. Behind her Talara fired another burst from her rifle, forcing a crewmember of the slaver ship back into cover. Both felt increasing hope from the other side of the door.

Lucy's cut went up to the level of her head and past, then over. She started a downward cut and brought it back down to about the level of her waist. "That ought to do it," she said aloud, pulling her lightsaber out. She focused her will and pushed her hand against the door, exerting force with her life energy as she did. The door, weakened by her cut, blew open.

Through the door, in a darkened chamber, were a series of cages. In each were manacled Human figures chained together, so many per cage. Some of them had clothes partly ripped away, partially baring their chests and backs and revealing wounds ranging from bruises and welts to long scarred ribbons that reminded Lucy of the old days of raiding slave plantations on Earth C1P2. Some of the imprisoned were children, quite a few were adolescents and teenagers, and there were maybe fifteen, twenty adults. Among the adults were three figures still wearing dark gloves with brass Psi pins on their chests, with one of the teenagers similarly-clad.

Talara entered behind Lucy, who stared in shock for a moment at the sight before grimly lifting her lightsaber. One by one she cut away the bars of the cages, opening gaping holes in them. Her will crushed and split the chains holding the manacles together, freeing the imprisoned. She sensed the minds of the assembled. "You're all telepaths?"

"Yes," answered one of the adults, a man who looked to be from the Indian subcontinent, one of those with a Psi Corps badge. "They captured us separately, or bought us."

"We're here to get you out," said Lucy. "We have a ship, we'll lead you back to it. Are any of you good with a rifle?"

The same man volunteered, as did a woman in another of the cages. Since the Indian man was already free, he took up the rifle. Another of the telepaths stood nearby, using her mental powers to attack the enemy crew outside in conjunction with the Psi Corps telepath. Talara, freed from being a door guard, helped Lucy free the other prisoners. In all there were fifty-three telepaths, Lucy counted. They'll all fit in the ship at least she thought.

Even before Lucy cut free the woman who volunteered for rifle duty, she was speaking into Lucy's mind. I am Antonia di Giuseppe. There are two young telepaths not with us. Fraternal twins. They were taken earlier to be… used by these monsters.

Lucy frowned. Antonia herself certainly looked worked over. What was once a fashionable dark jacket and comfortable blue blouse had seemingly been ripped from her at some point, along with her bra, so that she was an errant wind gust away from the common perception of indecency. A bronze Psi pin glinted on the intact strip of fabric over her heart. Her visible skin, fair with a tanned tint of Mediterranean color, was marked with welts and cuts. Lucy sensed the remnant mark of horrible pain in the woman's being. She had been tortured extensively, beyond the visible injuries.

They feed off our pain, another telepath thought, sensing Lucy's bewilderment over their condition. It gives them pleasure to feel it. A male stepped up beside her, or rather a teenager Lucy thought, without a Psi Corps marking. He too had been worked over. They took them…

Lucy nodded and focused. She felt the swelling hope of liberation around her, though still marked by fear. There was also fear in the crew. Fear of capture, of failure. Frustration. Hate at the "mindfreaks" that put them in this position. And not too far away, she felt pain. Pain and fear and, with it… immense gratification and satisfaction at the same, such that Lucy's stomach twisted from how sick it felt to confirm what she was being told. "I'll get them, I promise," Lucy pledged.

"I can show you were," Antonia offered. Her English was good, but quite Italian.

"You've suffered enough." Lucy gestured to Talara, who was freeing the very last prisoner at that moment. "Everyone, go with Talara, she'll take you to our ship!"

"You will need me," Antonia insisted. "I can bring you to them. I know the way to where they were taken."

Lucy almost said no, but she sensed the desperate need in Antonia. Everything she'd gone through to this point, everything she'd suffered, was to save those two teenagers. Lucy relented with a nod. "Stay behind me," she instructed. To Talara she added, "I won't be long."

"I will secure the others," Talara affirmed.

With that Lucy departed first, her erstwhile ally behind her, deflecting shots from the crew outside until they went down, put to sleep by mental command. They moved onward through the ship.

Talara watched them go and drew in a breath. She felt unsettled here, with all of the pain and despair. But she knew she had to persevere. All of these people were counting on her. "This way," she said to the Human telepaths. With the telepath carrying her rifle beside her, Talara led them back toward the infiltrator.

With a crash the last of the torpedo assemblies fell apart, the electronics smashed beyond repair. The last beam disrupting the deflector field around the bunker fell away. Robert completed his circuit around the building to where the sole entrance was being carefully guarded. Deflector status?

Fifteen percent was Colin's mental reply. Robert didn't see him looking at any displays, so he imagined Zara or Becca relayed the information. Cohesion is almost gone.

Still, the shields will regenerate now, and they don't…

Before he could complete the thought fire started to strike the shield. The cybertroopers, most still in cover, were letting loose. Blue plasma bolts dissipated against the deflector shield, which seemed to be exerting minimal effort to repel the fire. Hawk retaliated with his rifle on its grenade blast mode, firing big blue bolts that exploded like plasma grenades, further damaging the nearby buildings and the rubble of those already destroyed. Some of the shots dissipated against deflector barriers set up by the cybertroopers, providing them cover as well.

The dropships swooped in next. They opened up with their weapons, spraying the deflector field with rockets and plasma fire as well, and all over their heads. They're focusing their fire to break down the shield! Robert raised a hand and used his will to throw one dropship into another, sending both to crash. As the others continued to fire he repeated this.

Thirteen percent! he heard a mind shout. Zara's mind. Twelve!

Go back into the inner bunker! Colin ordered.

Robert half-expected her to disobey, to protest, but she didn't. He sensed terror from the girl, terror at losing her dads, but she obeyed their command. She would seal the inner blast doors behind her, buying more time for the telepaths in the lower levels to get help.

There was still the matter at hand. With his power Robert smashed another dropship into the ground. But its side-mounted rocket launchers still fired its final salvos, spraying the shield in front of them with repeated blasts. The field clearly continued to degrade…

The cybertroopers rushed forward from cover, still firing, and the telepaths returned fire immediately while some of their number were packing up the portable deflectors. For the moment they had the advantage, with the deflector absorbing all return fire, allowing only them the benefit of effective fire. To add to their effectiveness Colin and Gene led the other telepaths of sufficient strength in attacking the cyborgs' cybernetic parts.

Robert brought down the second-to-last dropship with a lighting bolt, turning it into a flaming ruin. The last one's rocket launchers reloaded from internal bays and fired another salvo. He felt instinctive danger and projected force ahead of them, backing up the field, and felt the strain of the rockets striking his field.

The deflector field hadn't stopped the rockets. Its cohesion was gone. It was collapsing.

Robert felt the morale drop in the others. Their gambit to preserve the field had failed. He took the moment for a quick and dirty push against the last dropship, smashing it to the ground and crushing several cybertroopers beneath, including one of those dangerous Human ones. There was no time for further intense attacks as enemy fire was now dangerous to them. His lightsaber flashed to life in time to deflect the first shot that might have touched him. His arms moved instinctively to put the weapon wherever a bolt might have otherwise struck him.

On the opposite flank Hawk projected a shield with his nanites, making one that fit around his rifle so he could continue to fire.

From behind their cover the telepaths were returning fire as well as they could, trying to cover those retreating into the bunker. But they were still normal Humans physically, save for the parts of their brains that allowed telepathy. They had little hope of accurate fire. All they could do was lay down such a continuing barrage that being struck was certain for the enemy, buying time for their fellows to retreat back into the bunker.

The other side knew that. The Human cyborgs, and the officer Coserian ones, let the more-controlled, less-capable grunt cybertroopers take the front and the brunt of the punishment while they focused fire on an individual section of the defensive perimeter. Hiding behind their own troops wouldn't protect the Coserian commandos, and coordinated telepathic attacks decimated their ranks. Nonetheless heavy coordinated fire descended upon one of the generators, on Robert's side of the line. The field held momentarily, but as the fire on it increased it continued to degrade.

On the opposite end Hawk grunted as his rifle's charge ran out. With enemy fire chipping away at his shield almost as fast as Hawk's nanites could make repairs there would be no lowering it. He transferred his rifle to his left hand and used his right to pull another charge clip from his belt. Gripping it against his palm with his thumb, his fingers worked the slide to expose and eject the drained clip. He placed the new one in, closed the clip chamber, and restored the small port for the rifle's barrel to continue returning fire. He growled in frustration; this wasn't how he preferred to fight. He'd rather get in close and work with his blades, match these things speed for speed. But if he moved, it would expose the flank and get these people killed.

Here I am, holding the line for the people I thought I was coming to kill. Goddamned irony.

One of the other telepaths casted a response back. And here we are, trusting our lives to a homicidal maniac. How do you think we feel?

Hawk's reply was a sharp, rich laugh. He swapped the rifle back to grenade mode and fired a burst that sent two cybertroopers flying.

On the left end of the line, a besieged section of deflector finally gave out from repeated shots. The telepaths were exposed. Single shots of deadly accuracy struck one after another in rapid succession, killing three outright. The fourth kept firing. A big woman of Middle Eastern or Central Asian extraction, she refused to flinch, firing an automatic shotgun that eviscerated a cybertrooper as it came over the disabled field generator's base. She swiveled the weapon to shoot another foe doing the same, but the cybertrooper was too fast. It thrust with its arm and drove a lengthening blade into her chest, bisecting heart and lung. She died in seconds. Though Robert didn't feel it, he knew the mindscream would impact the others just the same.

Hold the line! echoed the minds of Gene and Colin desperately, a moment after they broke the brain of one of the Human cyborgs, and drew monomolecular blades. Already the other telepaths on that side were re-directing their fields to take up the gap. Max avenged the fallen telepaths by rapid fire shots into the heads of the troopers that got through, but not before one of them stabbed another telepath through the side of the neck, severing the spine. Another mindscream rippled through the others, and Robert felt them despair.

"We're losing one over here!" Hawk roared, and all knew he meant another section of the field. "Get back to the bunker!"

The moment we fall back, those things will overrun us, Robert thought, deflecting a shot into the head of a rushing foe. Another cybertrooper got close enough to lash at him with its blade. He moved enough that the strike only clipped armor at his side, causing no damage, and drove his lightsaber through the creature's neck, killing it instantly. A plasma bolt seared his left arm and he grimaced before deflecting the next shot.

And then another section of the line failed. More lives winked out before the other generators compensated, pushing them to the brink. Hawk had to backpedal and swivel to avoid getting shot as their line contracted. Robert felt the surge in fear and frustration in him, fueling his anger. He knew he might die here, and had a natural fear of that; more than that, he was angry that he was losing to beings he hated. He wanted nothing less but to rip them all apart.

Robert knew that kind of frustration. The cybertroopers were too quick for the telepaths once it came to melee; Gene and Colin were holding their own through a combination of footwork and seamless mental coordination, but they couldn't go on the offensive. They were hard-pressed just to stay alive against one or two cybertroopers. Despite their efforts the enemy's strategy of burning out one section at a time was working. There was no winning this. Hearing a mental call for help and a cry of pain Robert visualized what was behind him: a cybertrooper loose behind the line, its blade stuck in Max's side, the trooper about to kill. He nearly acted, but didn't need to. Hawk turned and, while his left arm kept the decaying nanite shield up, his right arm whipped out. A forged blade of nanite metal slammed into the back of the cybertrooper's head, killing it before it could kill Max.

But more troopers were coming, and another section of the shield was on the verge of failure, and it all seemed so hopeless...

And that was when he felt a mental cry of desperation echo from within the bunker.

As the battle raged outside Becca could feel the desperate courage of the telepaths start to become despair. She knew what that was like. She'd felt it before, in Zonguldak, as they were picked off platoon by platoon, squad by squad. Death or a terrible fate the only outcomes available.

And then the mindscreams began. She felt the door open and shut. Again and again, as more telepaths died. She heard Gene's demand to hold the line, the feeling from the others that it wouldn't matter. She heard James' mind, frustrated, enraged, helpless. She could hear Robert's mind flash with desperate thoughts, on whether he could save the situation by cutting loose, or if it'd just make things worse. She felt his mental cry from being wounded.

And Max. Just as desperate. Just as determined to protect.

Stop it. Stop it. Oh G-d LET IT STOP. Becca's eyes filled with hot tears. James, Max, Captain Dale, those two Psi Cops, they were all going to die out there. While she was in here. Doing nothing. Surviving yet again.

"NO!" she screamed aloud, and in her mind, in desperation. Despite the lingering pain in her side Becca stood to her feet. Her mind rang with determination as she gave the order through her neural link.

ENGAGE COMBAT MODE.

Every mind in the compound heard those three words. Robert felt Hawk's disbelief and horror at them. What is she doing?! Becca, NO!

A fierce, desperate reply rang from her mind. NOT AGAIN!

The blast door swung open. Becca emerged through the door covered in the silver nanite material. As she took her first step out the material shifted. It started to form armor plates and material, flexible machined joints, and a new helmet. The coloring shifted to be primarily blue, with some of the joints and parts remaining silver, as did the face. Eyepieces formed on the face of the helmet, lighting up as the material completed its transformation.

Robert could see her through the eyes of Max, wounded and lying against the bunker wall. It looked like she was wearing a light power armor suit. The helmet and facemask of it even reminded him a little bit of comic book-style armor that Tom had been so enamored with growing up.

There was a roar in the air as Becca fired thrusters built into the back of the suit. She launched herself toward the nearest enemy, a cybertrooper that was about to cleave a telepath's head in two with its blade. Her blades shot through the wrists of her suit and plunged into the creature. Both flew over a disabled projector base and outside of the defensive perimeter. She jumped off her foe as they hit the ground, raising her arms in the same motion. From each palm a lance of sapphire light erupted, spearing two cybertroopers and one going on to slice through the head of a third. She cried in challenge and rushed forward, faster than ever before, to drive her blades into one of the commanding Human cyborgs while he was aiming elsewhere.

Some of Becca's desperation and defiance rubbed off on Robert, intentionally or not. He forgot caution and summoned all of his focus. When he sent out another wave, he managed to keep it focused enough to do what it needed to do. The broad blast of invisible force threw every cybertrooper ahead of him flying backward at such speeds that they took damage as they broke through the structures and rubble beyond. Freed from fighting for his life for the second, Robert turned to take in the battle. Or rather, Becca. She was busy finishing off one of the Human cyborgs when two of the normal ones shot her in the side. The impacts didn't seem to enter her armor, although she still recoiled. Her head turned toward them and her right arm raised; in rapid shots she took out both with whatever weapon was in her palm.

But there was something wrong, Robert thought. With the tenor of her desperation, the ferocity of her attacks despite her injuries, and with Hawk's horror at what she was doing. He focused on her for another moment, felt the ebbing in her being.

"Stand down!" Hawk shouted over the din of the battle. "Dammit Becca, that's an order!"

I will not be the last one again! was the desperate reply.

She's killing herself. That horrified thought came from Colin. When Robert had momentary confusion at it, Colin mindcast the information into his head. The two Psi Cops could sense her body's energy decreasing. As if the electrical energy in the body was being steadily drained away.

And then Robert understood what he was feeling. "Combat Mode" required her body's natural bioelectricity to operate, somehow. And the longer she was in it, the more would be used up.

If she didn't shut down the nanites' combat mode soon, Becca would die.

The internal corridors of the ship changed the moment after Lucy stepped out of the manual access ladder tube and onto the higher deck. Instead of the used dark beige walls with tubing for internal systems showing sometimes in the white ceiling and ladders, there was an opulent, well-kept wall of brilliant blue. The floor wasn't basic insulated covering of dull gray, but a fine carpet of red and white. In total she felt like she'd stepped out into a luxury hotel, the kind that cost a year of her salary to stay in for a night.

Antonia stepped off the ladder behind her. She clutched a pistol taken from one of the fallen crew. This way she mindcast to Lucy, who nodded and followed down the hall, igniting her lightsaber should she need it. Its hum filled the corridor, which was brightly-lit enough that the blade didn't shine off the walls as much as it had on the decks below.

They passed by a dining room with a luxurious cast to it, fine plushed dining chairs and a large wooden table with what looked like a silken table cloth over it. Lucy frowned at the thought of how much human misery had funded this elegance. She sensed agreement from Antonia, and bitter recollection.

They rounded one hall, passed by an entrance to what looked like a specialized kitchen, and approached another corridor. As Antonia stepped up to the corner Lucy felt danger and reached out. She grabbed Antonia by the arm and yanked her back.

A blast of energy slammed into the wall, passing through the space the battered woman had nearly stepped into.

"I'll handle this," Lucy said confidently. She stepped around the corner, weapon ready, and deflected the first shot fired at her into the arm of the shooter.

The members of the crew ahead were definitely not the same as those below. Each was dressed in rich clothing, uniforms of green and blue and white, and they had rifles with them, although one was clearly favoring a wounded arm. Two of the half-dozen uniformed people had eyes of reddish-brown coloring, one with tanned skin and the other with light. Among them was a towering woman of dark brown coloring, like someone from the Indian subcontinent, who had a medal arm and other clear cyborg enhancement. She cried out something in an alien language Lucy's translator didn't immediately identify and the servants opened fire.

One thing was clear; they were bad at it. Lucy only had to bat a couple of shots, the rest missing. She retaliated with a wave of force that knocked all but the cyborg woman off their feet. Behind her Antonia moved up and started firing her gun. Even as she did a couple started wailing in surprise; she was seizing control of their optical nerves and shutting off the input, blinding them. They writhed on the ground in a panic.

The cyborg lifted a big damn rifle. Lucy didn't even want to consider what it would do to her and forced it upward. It fired into the ceiling, creating a blast wave that threw the cyborg back into the others, knocking down those among the uniform-clad guards who had started to stand. While Antonia continued to fire with some slight accuracy, Lucy charged ahead. The cyborg got back to its feet and rushed ahead as well, drawing a short sword that looked as lethal as it did ornamental. Lucy realized it was a monomolecular blade a moment before parrying her attacker. The cyborg was fast, just as fast as she was, and they exchanged several swings. "We're here for the kids," Lucy growled, more out of habit than any thought of communication.

"You are here to steal my masters' property," the cyborg replied, her accent unfamiliar. "For this you will die." The tone was rigid, emotionless, very matter-of-fact.

"People aren't property!" Lucy shouted as she parried another blow. The blade was getting red. A few more strikes and it would be broken.

Her opponent seemed to notice that as well. Lucy was stunned at how quickly the sidearm came up. Without time to get her lightsaber into position Lucy instinctively stepped to the side. The resulting shot tore through the side of her belly, ripping through armor and grazing her skin before going out through her robe. The flicker of pain this caused proved no distraction, and it certainly didn't keep Lucy from exploiting their new positioning. She swung the lightsaber down toward the blade, this time bringing it through the wrist of the hand holding it. The hand fell in a small shower of sparks.

The cyborg, undeterred, tracked with the gun, intent to fire again, but Lucy spun away too quickly for her. Her lightsaber came back up and made a lateral cut through the air, straight through the cyborg's neck. Head and body fell away.

Lucy turned her attention to the others, but she needn't have bothered. Each was dead or unconscious. Only some had been shot. Antonia walked up behind her, gun clutched in her hand. Given the condition of her clothes it gave her an almost feral look. "The others will wake up," she said, answering the question forming in Lucy's head. "Eventually."

"Right." Lucy turned her attention to the door ahead. It was sealed shut, and the external panel was offline. Not wanting to risk her omnitool against whatever countermeasure had nearly gotten it before, Lucy brought up her lightsaber and plunged it into the door. This door wasn't quite as thick, so she took only a few seconds to cut a hole through it. Her will knocked the cut out part inward, sending it falling to the ground, where the melted, still-hot ends scorched the fine carpet at their feet.

Standing in the middle of the room was a woman wearing what looked like a silver negligee, revealing a solid, if not athletically fit, body. Her eyes glinted red, her dark hair wild and loose, and her skin marble white in coloring. Lucy sensed Antonia react to her presence with disgust and pain.

The woman's arm was wrapped around a thin, wiry teenage girl, about sixteen or seventeen, with olive-toned skin similar to Lucy's and Antonia's, brown hair, and gray eyes. The girl was half-naked, or more accurately, nine-tenths naked with a bottom that would barely count as a bikini bottom. Her bare chest was obscured by the left arm of the red-eyed woman, her shoulders confined in place by the right arm. Against the girl's neck was a knife clasped in the woman's right hand, already drawing a steady drip of blood from the skin, which went with the remaining cuts visible on her body from a vicious whipping. Nearby, sprawled out on the floor, a young man with similar colorations save having brown eyes was looking up with terror. He too was mostly unclothed, having only something that barely passed for a speedo, and his body was covered in wounds.

Aside from the hostage situation, what was in the room was enough to make Lucy sick. The bedroom was opulent, with a big bed and fine cabinets, designed in a way that was unfamiliar to her, to a different aesthetic than those she was used to. But on the far wall were manacles hanging from dedicated fittings. A variety of whips and striking canes were near the sets of manacles. She sensed Antonia desire to rub at her wrists at the sight of them.

Those red eyes glared with haughty anger. "You will leave, Alliancer," she demanded, her voice having a similar accent to the one the dead cyborg had used.

"Not without them," Lucy said, holding her lightsaber steady.

"They are mine. As is that one." The red eyes shifted enough to tell Lucy she meant Antonia. "Leave now or this one dies."

It took only a moment for Lucy to know she meant it. The girl was a disposable toy, to be thrown away when the red-eyed woman so desired. Her foe believed herself above all others save her own kind. Everyone, even Lucy, was only fit to be a slave. A treasured one, if competent, but property of their natural superiors. It was as if this woman and those like her were made to embody everything Lucy and her family on the Aurora opposed.

Since any sudden movement could lead to the hostage's death, Lucy didn't move. She didn't need to. She focused her will, reached out with her life energy, and willed the knife to fly out of the woman's hand. It did so immediately, ripped from her grasp by a force the slaver hadn't seen or felt coming. It clinked against the wall beside the bed and hit the floor. With her hand suddenly empty the slaver's eyes widened. Her jaw dropped and her grip on her prisoner weakened, allowing Lucy to pull the girl free with a simple gesture.

Antonia brought the gun up. It barked once. There was a flash of energy and the back of the red-eyed woman's head exploded, spraying blood and brain over the floor and far wall. Her body collapsed to the floor.

The teenage boy went to his sister's side, holding her closely as she began to weep.

Antonia was weeping too. Not from having killed the red-eyed woman, although Lucy could tell she wasn't used to violence, but in literal sympathy with the twins. She knew what they'd suffered, she had as well. Lucy felt their minds touch. Antonia dropped to her knees and they went to her, throwing arms around her. There was intense guilt in the younger telepaths that Antonia tried to soothe. After eying the dead woman again, Lucy went over to the tools of pain on the wall and sliced them in half with her lightsaber. As she did, tears welled in her blue eyes, and old wounds flared again on her skin, which had long been healed.

She'd seen these kinds of things before, after all. In that damned room that the Duffys had locked her in. Phil Duffy had enjoyed using them on her too. She balled her fist and closed her eyes, trying to control the upswell of emotion from the memories of pain and fear and anguish, and his devilish grin as she cried out from the pain…

Not the time. Not when I'm on a slaver ship, she made herself think. After slicing the manacles from the wall she turned to the three telepaths consoling each other. "We need to go," she said to them. "Before they trap us in here."

"Agreed," Antonia said. She stood and the twins did as well. The girl kept her arms self-consciously tight over her chest.

"Back to the ladder tube, then." Lucy moved ahead of them to lead the way back to the ship and to freedom.

The fight outside the bunker had lost its desperate tinge from before. Becca's ferocious counterattack completely disrupted the cybertroopers' assault. She continued in that attack, fighting her way toward the last of the Human cyborgs still on the field, ignoring every strike against her armor, even as it started to show the effects of damage.

The reprieve Becca provided gave the defenders an opportunity to get their wounded back into the bunker. Robert refused the medical telepath who offered him the same. Instead he tapped at his omnitool and triggered his armor's built-in medigel dispenser, dispensing the substance to his wounded arm to restore full functionality.

Fall back to the bunker! Becca urged them. They felt her pain when several cyborgs focused fire enough to knock her back. She got back up and retaliated with more blasts from the emitters in her hands.

Over the din of the continued battle, Hawk's voice roared. "Stop it Becca! For God's sake, you're going to kill yourself!"

I know was her only reply.

Colin and Gene weren't about to let her do that, not on her own. With a mental command their compatriots pushed the deflector generators in front of them slightly outward, giving them a brief opening to rush out past the defenses. They relied on their kinetic barriers and body armor to protect themselves from incoming fire and surged forward; they'd worked out a way to fight cybertroopers in close-quarters. One of them would disrupt electronics and slow them down, the other would attack with his blade. They rotated who took each position, occasionally joining their minds to fry the implants of one at longer range.

They weren't alone. Still on the flank of the deflector line, Robert dashed ahead, lightsaber swishing in the air, throwing waves of force every which way to disrupt the enemy and keep them from overwhelming Gene and Colin. He felt Becca's body ready to fail and was surprised to see her find the strength to move on.

For the second time that night, a desperate mind thought ENGAGE COMBAT MODE. Now it was Hawk's body that became enveloped in the silvery fluid of nanite material. It hardened around him as it had Becca, forming a similar set of blue and silver armor. Hawk dashed forward, the thrusters on the back flaring with white-blue light, and his blades rang out as he drove them into any foe that dared get in the way.

While the four surged to her rescue, Becca was pulling the last of the officer cybertroopers off her blade, allowing her to confront the final of the Human cyborgs. He moved even faster than the best of the Coserian ones, dodging her blade strikes and punching her hard enough to send her flying. Becca righted herself in mid-air with bursts from the thruster assembly on the back of the armor, allowing her to land on her feet. She raised her hands and fired, twin blasts that struck a forcefield around the cyborg. He raised his weapon and fired in reply, peppering her with shots that sparked at the armor, chipping away at it. Even as her body became too weak to stand, sending her to her knees, she fired the palm weapons on continuous beam mode.

Becca, you have to stop! Robert urged her, even as his will batted away a trio of cybertroopers turning to engage her from behind. His lightsaber flashed in the air and halfway severed the head of another. Please!

She didn't stop. But the beams were growing visibly weaker. All present could feel her body shutting down. The cyborg was already more interested in firing at Gene and Colin, then swapping attention to Robert as he seemed to draw closer. Robert's lightsaber intercepted the shot and sent it back to crash into his attacker's shields.

As they got closer, the cyborg switched fire toward them. He had surface thoughts they could detect and to some extent they could get themselves out of firing arcs in time, but they still took hits on their kinetic barriers, what plasma leaked through was absorbed harmlessly by their armor.

The fire on them let up as Hawk charged forward. He took a few hits from a cybertrooper before skewering it, then got the attention of the commanding cyborg with beams from his palms. Its weapon barked and struck him, damaging the armor repeatedly with each shot.

The beams from Becca went out. She collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent.

Gene and Colin gestalted again without touching, not just their minds but their souls themselves merging into a single will. A rapid succession of attack probes from both of them assailed his mind until they found a pathway that wasn't blocked off by cybernetic void: his motor cortex wasn't enhanced, only the outgoing projections to the rest of his body. They seized control and shut his body down in tonic paralysis; he stiffened like a board.

As the Human cyborg went rigid, Hawk grunted in effort and the energy from his hands intensified. The telepaths present, and Robert, could sense that it was his life now draining away. The twin sapphire beams rippled over the yellow protective field until it visibly weakened, distorted and focused entirely on Hawk.

That left it open on the other side. Robert dashed in, his legs moving with speed normal Humans couldn't match. His lightsaber buzzed in the air as he brought it up into a position parallel to the ground. There was no force shield to stop it as he brought the emerald blade down on the cyborg's arms and chest, severing the former and slashing deep into the latter. Fatally deep. The cyborg Human collapsed, its life fading away.

The defeat of the leader didn't immediately turn the battle, but as there were no remaining officers, the assault lost all cohesion. Individual units started acting independently as their threat assessment programming demanded, costing the attack the coordination that had allowed the earlier success. The telepaths still behind the deflectors were keeping up their fire, sometimes managing hits, but certainly forcing the cyborg forces to keep moving and preventing them from coalescing on the five beings now outside of the defenses.

Those that did notice them tried to attack. Robert felt them coming, deflecting those firing at him and mentally warning the others about the incoming fire. Gene, Colin, and Hawk all reacted, dodging where possible and the two Psi Cops returning fire.

Hawk didn't return fire but instead dashed straight for Becca's prone form. Robert could see the armor around her losing shape, returning to the silvery fluid of before. But now the nanite material seemed to lose its fluidity. Much of it went rigid, in a brittle way, and then started to disintegrate. Only a portion of it returned to inside her body through her wrists and ankles. Robert sensed Hawk's worry at that, uncertain as he was about what he was seeing. But there was no denying that Becca was near death's door as she was.

"Cover me!" Hawk urged, picking Becca up in a fireman's carry. He took off in a run, rushing through the remaining enemy, Robert and the others following and giving cover fire. The telepaths still behind the intact defenses provided what aid they could. One made to lower the deflector in front of her, but this proved unnecessary as Hawk jumped high enough to vault it, slipping just past the inward-curving top of the portable deflector. He rushed to the open bunker door.

It took the others a longer period of time to get back, longer being measured by about ten seconds. Robert kept his weapon in a constant motion while throwing offensive strikes with his will whenever he could. This had the effect of keeping the flanks relatively clear, even if it required him to whirl like a dervish to cover three sides as needed. By the time they got back to the line the remaining defenders recreated the hole Gene and Colin had used to get out. Robert kept the incoming fire, ever-decreasing, from hitting any of them, until he himself backed up to the gap. By this point the defense line had contracted further, the outermost generators folded inward to cover the flanks Robert and Hawk had charged from.

At a mental command from Gene, it started retracting further. In groups the telepaths withdrew into the bunker, carrying the portable generators with them, while Robert used a combination of lightsaber deflections and force waves to keep the attacking forces off-balance so they couldn't take advantage. Gene and Colin aided him, mostly with their guns as the remaining cyborgs were the mindless drone variety, making telepathic attacks more time-consuming than gunfire.

Finally the last deflector was inside, the telepaths with it. Gene and Colin backed into the blast door next as the cybertroopers, by base programming more than anything, started to swarm the opening. They kept up their fire until Robert was completely in their way. At that point he forced his will into as strong a wave as he could throw, as broadly as possible from the opening. The invisible force threw the swarm back, knocking most down in the process. These vital seconds let him finish retreating through the blast door, which Gene promptly slammed shut.

At that point, virtually every combatant collapsed, Robert included. It was only after he set his rear end on the floor by the entrance that he turned to notice Hikaru and the other medical telepaths fussing over Becca. Her skin was pale and her lips turning blue. Her life was virtually spent.

"Massive organ failure," confirmed a short-statured black man named Dr. Hegebe, with a scanner. "But I don't see any accompanying damage."

"You wouldn't." Fatigued as well, Hawk had his hands over Becca's right hand. After a moment Robert realized he wasn't just holding her hand. Two tendrils of silver material linked his wrists to her wrists. "She's lost most of her nanites. It's killing her."

"Just what the hell was that?" asked Colin.

"Combat mode," Hawk replied. "The combat nanites form a power armor. Really badass stuff."

"And it kills you?" asked Robert. "That's why you've never used it before?"

Hawk shook his head weakly. "We just learned about it. After Tira." He drew in a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "It's… the nanites are partly made of that metal stuff the Darglan use for power generation, okay?"

"Naqia."

"Yeah, that," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was visibly weakening too. "That stuff has got a lot of weird properties. One is that it soaks up energy like a sponge. The nanites, they… they store excess energy from our bodies. Makes our metabolism go sky-high. When used normally, we rarely burn through the reserves. But the power armor mode, the thrusters and the palm particle emitters and that crap… it sucks those reserves dry. So the nanites get power where they can."

"Including your bio-electric field," Gene observed.

Hawk nodded. His face was growing pale. Robert felt he was growing weaker. "And if they run out of juice, then their internal failsafe activates. The nanites dissolve so they can't be recovered. Problem is, we… we…"

"Mr. Hawk," Dr. Hegebe interjected. "Your heart rate is dangerously low. I don't want to lose both of you." He wasn't using a heart rate monitor.

The nod in reply was barely such. "...we need our nanites," he continued. "Our bodies… need them… not enough… our functions, they…"

He stopped speaking. A moment later the silvery tendrils linking him to Becca dissipated and he pitched over onto her. Hegebe took him and rolled him onto his back.

"They're still alive," Robert said. "And she's… stronger now."

"They are alive, but… very weak. I don't know if there is much we can do but… maybe if we provided energy to replenish the reserves?" Dr. Hegebe suggested.

Robert nodded in agreement. "Run some IVs, I suppose. I've no idea how the nanites might reproduce themselves, especially without raw materials. And I'll see what I can do." He moved over, not quite standing up. His left arm was starting to hurt despite the medigel infusion, but it didn't keep him from holding his hands over them and trying to will energy into their faltering bodies. "If we keep them alive long enough, well… maybe I can get them help."

"There is still the fundamental problem of energy reserves. They're running low." Dr. Hegebe said, rigging up a pair of IVs full of lactated ringer's solution and glucose. "Glucose will take time but…" He had an idea "We could rig batteries into a circuit. Give the nanites the energy they need."

"I'm not sure this will work, so give it a try," Robert said, closing his eyes and focusing on his efforts.

Gene helpfully provided the power cells from another storage cupboard as well as the electrical connectors, including resistors to keep from electrocuting anyone, and started connecting everything. He clipped the positive terminal to Hawk's right index finger, and then the negative terminal to his left. He repeated the process with Becca.

"The juice is flowing." Gene informed everyone, and waited.

An errant thought touched every mind in the room. Why aren't they trying to burn through yet?

Colin looked at the external cameras. There were more dropships landing, but instead of disgorging more troops, they were picking up survivors. Retreating. "I think… we might have won? Maybe?"

I hope so, Robert thought, even as he struggled to help keep the two fallen figures alive.

There was a dearth of opposition on the way back to the bay. Lucy realized why as they approached and nearly ran into arriving troops. They hadn't expected her to show up, Antonia and the twins trailing, and she removed them rapidly by throwing them against the walls, not needing to apply her lightsaber.

At the door to the landing bay there was another group firing in, and taking fire in turn. Lucy closed the distance and started disarming them with lightsaber strikes, in two cases literally. As the dismembered cried out along with the less-literally disarmed, she led the others into the cargo bay.

"We have to hurry," said Antonia. "They're recalling their cyborgs to subdue us."

"I wonder if that's good news or bad," Lucy muttered as the approached the infiltrator, her thought on what was below telling Antonia what she meant. Talara and some of the other telepaths were behind cover, using the landing gears, weapons drawn. Most of Talara's grenades were gone. "Let's go!" she shouted to Talara.

"Everyone else is already in the ship," she said, running toward the rear first. Once there she triggered the cargo bay door to open, allowing the others, plus Antonia and the twins, to board with her.

Lucy went for the port side airlock instead. At a touch of her omnitool the door opened. A jump augmented by her abilities got her high enough to land inside. As the outer airlock closed she heard the pulse guns start opening up. She opened the inner airlock and arrived in the main corridor just ahead of Talara, coming up from the armory. They both ran for the cockpit. "Dropships are landing in the bay," Talara confirmed.

"Let 'em." Lucy wasted no time in triggering the thrusters. "Fire pulse cannons as we leave, I want to inflict as much damage as we can."

As the ship lifted off the forward weapons opened up. Sapphire bolts ripped through the bulkhead ahead, and the sections inward, chewing away at the internals of the ship. As they backed out and began to turn their craft around. Only after they were out of the bay did the infiltrator stop firing, now pointing forward. Its final barrage had blown through several chunks of the cruiser's interior.

Lucy waited as long as she had to before triggering the impulsors to full, bringing the ship into a twist and turn that allowed it to evade the fire that started to come in the moment it was clear of the bay. "Enemy ship is trying to lock on," Talara confirmed. "And their dropships are engaging."

"I noticed." With her life force guiding her, Lucy kept the infiltrator moving, evading fire from both sources while hugging the cruiser. "We need to go for their main weapons. If they're abandoning the attack they might destroy the compound out of spite." While she spoke and acted the pulse guns, set to auto-target, continued to engage dropships whenever they could. One took a stream of pulses from two guns and blew apart in flame.

There were steps from behind. Antonia slid into the third chair. "How can I help?" she asked.

"Do you know how to operate the ship's weapons?" Talara asked.

"No. But I did score very high in the Starfury gunner simulator games in the arcades," she replied enthusiastically.

I could use the help. Lucy responded by letting her memories of the controls surface, allowing Antonia to sense them and operate the forward weapons. She didn't have any particular skill with them, but with Lucy's help she was at least competent. Their talents, in conjunction, allowed them to stay just within the cruiser's deflector while strafing the cruiser's weapons emplacements. One by one the largest plasma cannon projectors were taking debilitating damage, also further damaging the cruiser. Flashes of fire from the smaller, anti-fighter emplacements ripped through the space around them. Lucy put the infiltrator to the test with her rapid maneuvering.

Despite the fact she was still very much in pain, Lucy felt Antonia's spirit soaring as they eliminated the cruiser's main weapons, heedless of the deadly fire around them. She seemed quite happy with the situation; better to be shot down out here than be a slave tortured for the kicks of a sadistic captor. While turning her head slightly to look at a monitor, Lucy could see Antonia through the corner of her eye. Antonia was still wearing her shredded clothing. But she had a pair of black gloves on now, the standard issue ones for the combat suits in the armory. "You were more worried about gloves than an intact shirt?" Lucy asked, incredulous.

"I was tired of being naked, it was so indecent," Antonia answered.

"But you're still somewhat…" Before Talara could finish that thought her attention was drawn to something. "I'm picking up an energy surge… It looks like they're charging their hyperdrives."

Lucy nodded. "With most of their weapons disabled, they must have decided to cut and run." She evaded more fire and started to put more distance between them and the cruiser.

"Their dropships are all returning to the bay now."

Good riddance, thought Lucy. "Once they're in hyperspace, relay the course to the Shiloh under Robert's command code. Tell them to head that way and see if they find the ship coming out of hyperspace." She said this confident that Robert would approve.

"Doing so now…"

Lucy, meanwhile, relayed sensor information to her station. On the screen the compound was mostly dark, as night time had fallen on that part of the world. From what the systems were saying, several buildings were damaged or destroyed, and there were broken cyborgs scattered around the central structure. With comms open again Lucy triggered them. "Lucero to Dale. Status?"

There were a few tense seconds before she heard Robert's voice, much to her relief. "Dale here. We're secure."

"So are we. And we've got fifty-three people who probably want some warm food and…" Lucy glanced back at Antonia. "...medical care."