{Talon. Talon!} A mind intruded into her dreams. {Wake up, Plunger!}

Talon blinked, arms grasping at the weight that was lying atop her. Was she still drea—?

She sat up, a blanket falling off of her to pool in her lap. Ah. {I'm awake.}

{Unhappily so, I see!} Spiral sent with a mental smirk.

Talon clamped down on her side-channels, flushing slightly. {What happened while I was asleep?}

{Well, you dreamed about—} Talon mentally swatted at her diral-sister, and Spiral broke off with a laugh. {Okay, okay!} The Maiad's sub-channels sobered up. {You've been asleep for more than two cycles. We didn't want to wake you; you looked too cute snoozing there!}

{A warrior is never 'cu—} Talon turned to throw an indignant glare at her fellow tenoin.

{But a diral-sister can be!} interjected Spiral. She winked — or 'blinked,' with her one eye — and indicated the blanket still draped across Talon's legs. {Besides, it was 'cute' for Alex to put that blanket on you. Very caring of him—} she added, knowingly, {—for a fellow warrior, of course!}

It was, at that. Of course, the blanket also explained why she felt so warm… certainly the fading threads of her dream could have nothing to do with it. Carefully keeping those images out of her side-channels, Talon sent {And what else happened?} She eyed the technical readouts that covered the displays both in front of Spiral and on the weapons console near Talon's own position.

{Storm Surge's hangar munitions personnel have been working with Alex to get torpedoes equipped on this ship.}

{Really?} Talon perked up. {Did they succeed?}

{They think it can be done. The gallen and those Soia 'Engineers' are fabricating the adapters now. They already made a quick adapter between this ship's life support systems and Storm Surge's resupply umbilicals. Which means fresh water and air.} Spiral responded.

She grinned at Talon. {And Alex just now left to take advantage of that water supply in the captain's cabin shower. All alone, which must be really sad. Also inconvenient.} Spiral made a show of trying to reach around and rub her own back, between her shoulder blades. {I can't imagine that he's really able to get completely clean that way. So of course it falls to us to go help him!} Her teasing tone of thought from earlier returned. {As good fellow warriors, of course!}

For her part, Talon was mostly surprised that there was room for a bath on a ship this small. {Are you sure that there will be enough space for the three of us?}

{We can take turns.} Spiral sent back, standing from her seat and stretching. She ran her hands down her black-and-orange undersuit, smoothing out a few small wrinkles. {I do not think he will mind.}

Oh. Talon's eyebrows rose as she caught some of the images flickering through Spiral's side-channels. {Really? In a bath? Is that sanitary?}

Spiral shrugged. {You remember how my mother was present at our diral graduation ceremony?}

{Yes?} Talon let her sub-channels express her confusion at the non-sequitur. {She managed to miss her first cut at the short miros-fur that you called 'hair', as I recall.}

Spiral winced slightly, one hand rubbing at a long-since-disappeared cut on her forehead. {Somewhat too energetic, yes.}

{I could see the family resemblance.} Talon sent deadpan, as she stood from her seat and folded the blanket neatly on it.

Sticking out her tongue at Talon, Spiral continued with a gleam in her eye, {Well, she told me then that I had been conceived in a monastery bathing room!}

Talon gagged at the thought. {That seems… messy.}

{Then it is good that one is already in the right place to get cleaned up!} Spiral sent. {I tried it myself in the post-diral encounter.} She rested one hand on her lower abdomen, pouting. {It didn't work. But there is always next time!}

{I don't think it will work, with another species. Even as loroi-like as they look.} Talon sent, as she opened the cockpit door.

{And I don't plan on going that far… today.} Spiral's sub-channels conveyed her honesty. {I really do just want to help another warrior relax after a confusing few days.} She glanced aside, smile spreading on her face as they stepped out into the corridor. {And maybe see for myself just how loroi-like these alien males might be. But only looking, for now.}

The two tenoin paused, coming across Colonel Jardin standing outside the closed cabin door, leaning one shoulder against the bulkhead as he talked to their little expedition's listel tozet. "—fectly capable of cleaning himself, although I suspect he will... appreciate your offer."

Colonel Jardin turned to look over his shoulder at Talon and Spiral, their gazes flicking inquisitively from him to the cabin door. Talon spoke aloud "Colonel Jardin, Copilot Spiral and I were both wondering if Alex needed—"

"You too?" He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head, laughing softly to himself. "[Must be something in our side of the family, I swear.]" In Trade, he continued "Thank you, but as I was just explaining, showering is usually a private activity for humans when they can do so." he nodded to each of the tenoin, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. "But I am sure that he will be glad to hear your 'concern'."

That was a pretty definitive statement, and from the person who was — Talon admitted — clearly in the position to act as Alex's caretaker.

She shrugged. If the Colonel thought Alex wouldn't be bothered by bathing alone, she wouldn't argue with him. {Beryl, we're going to go use the off-hangar baths. Some of the rest of the Tempest team are probably still in there. Want to join us?}

{Sure.} The three of them walked out of the prowler and across the open bay.

Behind them, they heard one of the ODSTs speak "[Any trouble, sir?]"

"[Just, ah, 'keeping the showers clean.']"

"[Kid's made of Elf-catnip just like his Uncle, eh sir?]"

The three loroi exited the hangar, Colonel Jardin's laughter echoing behind them.

{So, anything non-secret that you can tell us about the torrai-club meeting?} Talon asked, closing her eyes and letting the warm water run down her face.

One of the nicest things about a full-size Assault Carrier was that the life-support systems were sized to both the ship's crew and as many again ground-soldiers for planetary invasions. Even with the crew needed for serving as a fighter-carrier, that meant that the restrictions on hot-water use were rather looser than aboard most other warships.

{Did Stillstorm duel the Tazites again?} added Spiral, lying half-in the bath proper in the center of the compartment. {I heard the story about their first fight when I first boarded Tempest!}

{That was many years ago.} sent Beryl. The listel was sitting in her undersuit, running a towel and cleaning solution over her armored oversuit. {Well before I joined the strike group.}

{But…?} Spiral sent, her sub-channels filled with so much curiosity that it was as if she were trying to pull the story out of the listel. {Did they fight again?}

{No.} Beryl corrected. {Not physically, at least. Although I received the impression that it was partly because Tazites Duskcrown was simply too shocked by the story of our expedition and our findings to irritate Stillstorm as I have seen memories of her doing before.}

{That, I can imagine.} Talon sent. She left the shower and took station next to Beryl, readying her own tenoin-orange flight armor.

There hadn't been time to clean it out earlier when returning from her fighter sortie and immediately arguing her way into the pilot's seat of the dropship sent after Spiral's downed shuttle. As a result some of the liquid breathing medium was still crusted around the interior of the seals where it had dried in place, and that horrible stuff was always a chore to scrub out.

Frankly, it was probably for the better that she hadn't joined Alex; this sort of elbow-work went better with room to spread out. Talon continued, {I can still hardly believe it myself.}

{Likewise for me.} Beryl sent. {The historical archivists back home are going to go mad when they realize how much of our history will have to be re-examined!}

{I can't imagine they'll be too upset.} added Spiral. {It will give all those listel plenty of opportunities to go 'discuss' old legends with their male counterparts!}

Beryl smiled. {There's always a silver crest to every wave, yes.}

Talon scrubbed hard at the caked-on breathing medium. The stuff was unpleasant enough when she had to let it invade her lungs; couldn't it at least be simple to clean out of her suit later? But no, once it had dried it took a lot of effort to loosen it once more. And—

She paused, turning to eye the warm tub that Spiral still sat in. There was a solution...

With a brief blip of sanzai to Beryl, Talon concentrated on concealing her intentions… just long enough.

The tub embedded into the floor of the bathing compartment was far from deep enough to safely dive into, but Talon still managed to raise a good-sized wave as she quickly submerged herself and her suit.

Spiral yelped via sanzai as the water splashed up her tilted-back head, dampening her hair against the floor tiles once more. {That was just almost dried!} She mock-complained, one foot kicking softly against Talon underwater.

{Don't worry, we're going to be here a while anyways.} Talon indicated her diral-sister's own flight armor, still sitting on the rack by the door where it had been hung. {Unless you were planning on leaving that un-cleaned?}

With a sigh, Spiral drew herself out of the tub and padded over, bare feet slapping against the friction-tiles. She laid the armor down on one of the cleaning-tables, but paused and looked over at Talon. {Doesn't that crust-stuff get stuck in the water filters if you clean your suit in the tub?}

{It did on Tempest, yes.} Talon sent back, her sub-channels filled with her satisfaction as the grime floated away easily under the effects of scrubbing and soaking both. {But maybe on a dedicated carrier, the designers were smart enough to use better filters in the water recyclers.} She glanced up and smiled at her caste-sister. {Besides, even if not, we'll likely be off the ship by the time the gallen down in Engineering come up here to complain.}

{If anyone asks, it was your idea.} sent Spiral, as she dragged her own armor into the tub as well. Her side-channels replayed the time that every one of Tempest's tenoin pilots had been ordered into formation to receive an angry berating from a blue-in-the-face Gallen Bastobar Wavecrest.

Talon sent back her laughter, before turning her attention to Beryl. {Did the torrai say when we would be leaving Storm Surge?}

{Are you feeling worried, tenoin?} Beryl asked with a smile.

{Mostly I just want to hit back against the Shells.} Talon sent, truthfully. {We still owe them for the destruction of Tempest.}

That chilled the sanzai in the compartment. A few of Tempest's warriors that were still drying their hair glanced over at the three of them. One of them, a soroin seinen that Talon vaguely recognized as a bridge tactical officer, sent gruffly {Give them a beating for the rest of us, too.}

Talon sent a questioning pulse at Beryl.

{Right, you were asleep.} The listel sent back. {Most of the soroin are being shuttled over to the ships of Strike Group 51. Only a few of us are remaining aboard the Did Ever Plummet Sound.} The alien ship name did not sound any less strange in sanzai.

{And we are going ahead of the strike group to scout the system first?} Talon asked, to confirm what Beryl's side-channels had hinted.

{That is what the Lashret told us.}

{Will she be going with us?} Talon wasn't sure if she liked the thought of the strict officer breathing down her hair during a mission like that.

{She is returning to command the strike group, from aboard Tsunami.}

Talon laughed. {I do not think she will much like commanding from aboard another captain's ship like a senior flag officer, prevented from also leading her own ship. Unless she is displacing Mazeit Moonglow?} Junior tenoin or not, in a formation as tightly-knit as Strike Group 51 every warrior from paset on up followed the… colorful personalities of their Torrai commanders.

{I do not think so.} Sent Beryl.

{Agreed.} added one of the soroin, a bridge fire-control officer. The older loroi quirked a smile. {Outright taking over Moonglow's ship would make Torret Ashrain stand out more in the squadron. And Stillstorm would rather shave herself bald than boost the Emperor's family member any more than what her own accomplishments earned.}

Soft laughter reverberated through the compartment.

The junior soroin rinsing shampoo out of the previous sender's hair added {If she gets too good at commanding the formation in the style that a flag officer is supposed to, they might have to promote her to soshret!}

That idea kicked the laughter into high gear.

{I don't know who would hate that more: Stillstorm for being promoted away further from the front lines, or Duskcrown for having to be the one to pin her new insignia onto her!} chimed in a half-submerged doranzer.

After one final check, Talon hauled her armor out of the bath and over to the drying rack. {Well, we'll make sure to give the Shells a good kicking for all of you.} She paused, turning back to Beryl. {That is, what is our mission? If we're being detached to stay aboard the human ship?}

{We are being sent ahead of Strike Group 51, which will be entering the system along with the Tinza fleet.} Beryl sent back. {The torrai believe that the Shells might have found some other source of human artifacts besides the bunker where we found Colonel Jardin and his warriors. If that source was also aboard the Ring, then it has left the system. But if it was elsewhere in the system, then the Shells may attempt to bombard and destroy it when they see our fleet coming.}

Talon nodded, grinning hungrily and thinking of Jardin's plan with the hangar technicians. {But if there is a sneaky prowler waiting with torpedoes...}

{Then we might be able to stop them.} Beryl confirmed.

{That will be very satisfying.} Talon sent.

One of the junior soroin from earlier asked {What is it like, working on the small ship's bridge with the humans?}

Spiral appeared at Talon's side, flight armor just as clean. {They called it the 'cockpit,' as if it were a very large fighter. That fits how small it is compared to a ship, really.}

Beryl added, {Their computer systems are strange. They can translate their displays into Trade, which is nice except it means that it has been difficult to gain any understanding of their actual language.} The listel pouted briefly. {But the systems themselves are so very… muddled. Their sensors, navigation, data storage and processing all seems to be tied up with every other field. Not separated for easier understanding.}

{It makes sense to me.} Talon sent with a shrug. {As Spiral sent, it's like a large fighter. There are separate seats for what Alex said were the 'weapons' and 'sensors' stations, but they can each control any system for redundancy. The flight crew can split up tasks for faster working, or switch if one member needs to take a break.}

{So strange to run a warship that way.} One of the other bridge officers sent. {Do they cross-train all of their castes in each other's duties?}

Spiral answered with a hint of pride, {Alex knows a bit about a doranzer's work, enough to get the medical systems prepared ahead of time!}

The doranzer pulling herself out of the tub nodded at that. {That was a nice surprise. Saved us some time when we brought the wounded aboard, and every solon counted.}

{I don't think they actually have castes.} mused Beryl. Several minds immediately turned to the listel, pinging her for more explanation. {I was talking to their Colonel on the flight back, and he told me some of how their society used to be, early in the Wars against the Soia.}

The mood in the compartment darkened slightly at the reminder of just who had done most of the fighting on behalf of those awful Soia.

Beryl continued, {He says that their warriors used to be often just born-civilians who 'decided' to join their military, and passed the acceptance trials. And that military positions were determined at those trials, not influenced much by what career their mother held… if she had even been a warrior at all.}

Several loroi boggled at the strange idea. {I don't know which is weirder: 'armed civilians' or putting adults — civilian adults! — through diral-trials to see who would be put into what caste.}

{It does sound strange.} Beryl agreed, although her sub-channels betrayed how fascinated she was by the alien way of organizing a society. {Although he did say that their people became more militarized during the Wars, and by the end almost every human went through warrior training.}

{Now that sounds like the sort of people that our ancestors would side with.} A soroin sent with satisfaction.

Talon and Spiral shared a glance. Had the whole 'exactly which loroi ended up on the Sister Worlds' story not spread to the other warriors, yet?

Before either tenoin could send anything, a focused burst of sanzai lanced into them. {Do not bring up that topic. We are… 'controlling' just how that particular truth gets out, and when.}

Talon's eyes followed the source of the message to a gap between the milling loroi, through which she could see the Mizol Parat from earlier staring back at her. The red-eyed warrior sat with her uniform folded over her lap, adjusting her hair with the aid of a mirror folded out from the wall.

{Affirmative, Mizol Parat.} sent back both tenoin as tightly as they could. Even in the traditionally rank-less atmosphere of a ship's baths, it was unwise to be anything less than respectful to the senior political officer.

Besides, Talon could see her point. That whole revelation certainly hadn't sat well with her; there was good reason to be careful in just how it was revealed to the rest of the warriors of the fleet, and eventually the Union.

As long as the truth did come out in the end, of course. Warriors did not hide even uncomfortable truths from other warriors… at least not forever.

{Incidentally,} the mizol continued, {the Lashret wishes to convey her appreciation of the progress that you two have made on your… 'side mission.' While the humans are happy to work with us in discovering where the Enemy acquired their other UNSC artifact, it is still unknown what Colonel Jardin and his warriors will do after that question is answered. Your efforts in establishing some control over Ensign Jardin may become very useful to the Union.}

Talon stepped into her undersuit, Beryl helping her get the armor on over it. She chose not to send an answer to the mizol unless posed a direct question; the idea that she and Spiral were manipulating Alex rather than forming a new friendship was insulting.

After enough solon had passed to make it clear that neither tenoin would answer her, the mizol sent a brief burst of amusement via sanzai, and cut the link.

Turning around to help Beryl into her own armor, Talon grimaced. The sneaky mizol always knew how to ruin a good bathing session — and it was supposed to be relaxing, too!

With the greater privacy afforded by their proximity, Beryl sent {It was also told to me just now about how Stillstorm… 'encouraged' you to act towards Ensign Jardin. I would like to apologize for certain of my remarks towards you both, earlier.}

Spiral mentally brushed it off. {No insult was received, tozet.} She mentally winked at the two of them. {We would have acted the same even without her instructions!}

The listel simply shook her head, smiling slightly as Talon clicked the last fastener closed on her armor.

"Coming up on emergence… now." Alex said.

This time, Did Ever Plummet Sound slipped smoothly back into realspace, like a nimai diving into the water.

"Looks like those calculations were spot-on." The human pilot said, looking over at Talon with a quick smile. "I think our combined method worked perfectly."

"Indeed so." Beryl said, observing from behind their stations.

Talon asked, "And you are certain that this ship emits no jump signature when it is arriving in a system?"

Beryl answered "The sensor crew from Storm Surge confirmed that this ship was only spotted on their sensors when it entered the gas giant's atmosphere. They detected no emergence point beforehand. And they were less than three light-solon away from where we did enter the system."

Amazing. Talon nodded in appreciation. An actual stealth ship, in space!

"Quarter-million years later, and she's still doing the UNSC proud." Alex patted part of the console. He craned his head to look back at Spiral. "What have we got on sensors?"

The junior tenoin announced "Count is four in Divisions of Shell ships." Glee glowed through her sanzai. "Looking like Ring-opened tear did erase two Divisions in entirety!"

Two hundred Enemy ships, pulled into slipspace along with the UNSC prowler. And without slipspace drives of their own…

Talon grinned. It looked like the Union forces would actually outnumber the Shells, for once. See how they liked it! "I think maybe they were the fortunate ones, when the Tinza fleet and Fifty-One arrive."

"Any unusual ship formations? Patrol vectors?" Alex asked.

"None that are being obvious." Spiral said. "Not— I see now some, over there!" She pointed to her display. "One smallish division, above that large moon that is orbiting a gas giant. They are escorted and all have their engines not on. I think maybe they are trying to be not so easy to see."

The three other warriors in the cockpit all looked at the Shell warships shown.

"Those are transports." Beryl confirmed. "Troop transports, linked to the tankers. But why are they refueling there…?" She sent to Spiral {Can you focus the sensors on that planetary surface, just below them?}

Spiral carefully tapped at a few controls. {The passive sensors are set. I think even the Shells would not be blind enough not to see us if we bounce active sensors off of them.}

{That won't be necessary… yet.} Beryl sent, peering closely at the readings. Aloud, she said "There are more Enemy transports, landed on the planet! Those are troop carriers, it seems."

"Landing ground-pounders on a desolate moon?" Alex asked. "And being sneaky about it. That looks like it's worth a closer look." He reached for his headset.

"No need; I heard." his Uncle's voice came from the open doorway. "The bug-bots snooping around somewhere is reason enough to investigate. Take us in close as you can without being spotted." He looked to Talon. "Looks like you'll get to try out your new toys, when the fleet arrives."

Talon grinned inside her helmet, turning back to her console. The prowler shifted underneath her, maneuvering towards the Shell formation. And she had a 'gift' ready for them!

Fingers danced across the controls, checking the field-rigged communications between the Plummet's weapons systems and the Union armaments in her bays. Four SR torpedoes and eight small kinetic missiles. A loadout equivalent that carried by a single heavy fighter much smaller than the prowler, yes, but with the advantage of surprise over the Shells...

"What are they doing down there?" Colonel Jardin mused to himself. Talon kept working on the test checklist given to her by Storm Surge's gallen, her mind only briefly examining the image sent to her by Spiral.

Multiple Shell transports, landed on the surface in a rough circle. Even at this distance, the prowler's sensors could make out the milling crowds of Umiak workers in the open area in the middle. And—

"They're… digging for something." said Alex. "Think it's the place they got that backpack-jammer from?"

"I can't see how." his Uncle replied. "We're the only UNSC assets ever on record in this system."

"Until we went into hibernation on the Ring." Alex pointed out, excitement clear in his voice. "Maybe someone came after us?"

"Would have to have been from the evacuation fleet; every remaining ship was tasked there. And we never told anyone the coordinates of this system."

Talon interjected "Then it seems that there will be only one way to go find out."

"Tinza fleet should be seen making arrival in thirty solon." Spiral announced.

"Noted." The Colonel said. "Weapons?"

"Both torpedoes are closing on their targets." Talon reported. "Will be in detonation range of their tanker formation ten solon after the fleet's light reaches us. All kinetic missiles are ready to launch."

Did Ever Plummet Sound waited in close orbit of the moon, nose pointed towards the Shell excavation below. The prowler's port-side weapons bay was still closed, but Talon had already selected six AMM-250 kinetic missiles and fed them their targets. The moment that the fleet's jump signature became visible to the Shells here, those eight weapons would go live.

"Twenty solon before arriving."

With any luck, that would mean that all Enemy vessels near whatever they were searching would be destroyed before they could deny it to the loroi.

"Fifteen solon— jump signature!" Spiral announced. "It is the Tinza fleet!"

Impressively close to the estimated arrival time, given the distance of the jump.

"Engage weapons." The Colonel ordered.

Talon, whose hands had been waiting above the controls, sent the prepared command.

Barely eight thousand mannal from the Shell transports lying low in orbit, two torpedo drives ignited. Taimat combustion byproducts streamed out behind them as they raced towards the tethered-together tankers and transports.

The Enemy sensor operators would have had barely four solon to detect the incoming torpedoes, acquire a sensor lock, and engage with what point-defense weapons the transports had.

They failed.

Two blasts flared into being as the torpedoes and the tankers' own fuel detonated as one. The searing-bright explosion that consumed the vessels was bright enough that Talon had to narrow her eyes, even twenty thousand mannal distant.

At the same beat, the Plummet rocked underneath her six times, as the kinetic missiles dropped free of their weapons bay and ignited their own drives.

Screaming downwards through the planet's thin atmosphere, the missiles each struck one of the landed transports. It would have been more efficient to use the Type-D kinetic missiles against such immobile targets, but the more versatile Type-250 worked well enough.

Six reactor cores, split by the impacts, detonated within three solon.

Fragments of hull flew high into the air, spiraling outwards from the craters scorched into the surface. They soared on ballistic arcs, several thousand mannal high, before plunging back down.

One of them shifted aside just before impact.

"Ground team's making their assault." Alex said, watching armored figures sprinting towards the shattered Shell dig site.

They were momentarily obscured by a cloud of dust raised by the debris impact, but it had safely missed them thanks to the last-minute telekinetic nudge. He continued, "Looks like that teidar's as good as you said she was."

"She is known to be strong even by the standards of her caste." Talon said.

A few sparkles of weapons-fire illuminated the scene, crippled Shells being finished off.

"So far," the Colonel muttered, "so go—"

"There is movement on the other moon! The most near one!" Said Spiral, her sanzai emphasizing how frustrating it was to be limited to vocal speech. It was fast enough for fleet-scale fighting — usually — but at ranges this close every solon counted.

"I see them." The older human said grimly. "Small craft, high acceleration, headed for the dig site… gunboats of some kind?"

Talon pulled up a smaller repeat of the sensor display on her screen, following along with her diral-sister's explanation.

"Affirmative. Those are their more small gunboats. But their plasma weapons would be very little effective in atmosphere. Why then—?"

The tenoin's question was answered a beat later. Even though all eyes saw the readout, she still called out "Torpedo tracks! Count is two. Time until impact on site of digging is six hundred solon."

Talon was halfway through plotting an intercept trajectory for the Plummet's two remaining AMMs even before the Colonel ordered it. "Good work. And get a firing solution for their gunboats, too. We can't assume those were the only munitions they had."

Not too likely; by their readings, those were heavy torpedoes, not much smaller than the gunboats that launched them. They must have been prepared for just this task — scuttling the dig site. Paranoid Shells had set up a stealthy 'backup' way to destroy the site even if their orbiting vessels and ground team were destroyed!

"I have a firing trajectory for their torpedoes." She announced. "But once we launch, the Enemy will see the interceptor missiles incoming. If they have other munitions, they will then surely send them."

Normally it wasn't her place to send — or 'say' — such obvious observations, but the humans had no experience fighting the Shells. They could not be entirely familiar with how the Enemy thought.

"Understood." He paused for a few solons. "Launch the interceptors and torpedo at their respective targets, but set them to delay engine activation for as long as you safely can and still make an intercept. On a ship that small, they can't have more than one or two sensor operators. We'll just give them something else to look at."

He turned aside. "Alex, move us around as far to their other side as we can in the time we've got. Thirty seconds before our munitions have to light their engines, open our baffles and flare the engines. If these guys have never seen a stealth ship before, that should keep their eyes on us."

His nephew asked "And if they fire on us?"

"Don't get hit."

Talon announced "Weapons solutions are calculated." She immediately set to entering the estimated effective weapons range of the Umiak gunboats into the prowler's analysis systems. She'd faced enough craft like them in her fighter before; she knew their characteristics by heart at this point.

"Fire."

Plummet rocked gently as the weapons slipped from her now almost-empty weapons bays. Only a single torpedo remained.

"Moving now, sir." Alex announced, the screen showing his projected route. "We should be able to almost leave their weapons range by the time we have to draw their attention." He glanced aside at Talon, nodding sharply. "Thanks for the OPFOR outline."

The solons seemed to crawl past as Did Ever Plummet Sound crept across the track of the incoming Shells. Talon felt sweat beading along her back as she eyed the enemy torpedoes accelerating towards the moon's surface below.

They would be easy enough for the AMMs to intercept, yes; a frontal-quarter approach on targets that would likely kill their engines and go ballistic well before impact. That's what she would have done, if she'd launched them: preserve as much of the explosive taimat fuel as possible for the actual detonation.

Finally, the time approached.

"Open baffles in fifteen solon."

"Ready on your command." Alex said, holding one hand above a set of controls off to the side of his station.

"Missiles will go active within eight solon." Talon added.

"Open baffles." The Colonel commanded.

A brief alarm chirped as Alex flipped the toggle. "We're visible. Pulsing engines."

The ship shuddered underneath them, Colonel Jardin holding tight onto the back of his nephew's seat.

Another alarm. One that Talon recognized.

"Search radar." Alex announced, his hands gripping the piloting controls. "We'd be well within burn-through range for a UNSC set; let's see how long it takes these guys."

Only a few beats later, the alarm rose in pitch and doubled in frequency.

Alex nodded. "Acquisition radar. They'll have a lock in ten solon."

"Facing change!" said Spiral. "They are turning to point most near towards us!"

Talon had her own announcement. "Missiles are going hot."

"Decoy away." said Alex calmly, as something clunked from deep in the ship. "Baffles closed."

"Weapons fire!" announced Spiral.

"Missed the decoy." observed Colonel Jardin. "It's still running."

"Fifteen solon until AMM intercept. Twenty-eight until torpedo impact on gunboats." said Talon, eyeing the converging icons on her display.

The Shells were too late to shoot down the kinetic missiles, but their point-defense plasma weapons would cycle in time to get another shot at the incoming torpedo… or one last shot at the Plummet or its decoy.

"Decoy is maneuvering." Alex said. "Making like it's turning away to run."

Talon blinked, leaning slightly to one side and looking out the cockpit window. "And we're moving closer?"

"Better angles on the bow; Plummet's hardest to see from dead ahead." explained their pilot.

Talon nodded. "That does make much sens—"

She flinched back instinctively as a bright flash of light blanketed the window.

"Near miss!" announced Spiral, while Talon blinked at the after-image covering her vision. "Most near, but miss!"

Very near indeed, if the energy bleeding off the concentrated bolt had still been so bright.

That was one gunboat's last quartet of shots.

"Decoy's hit." said Alex, voice impressively calm despite the near-death experience. "It's going to be visibly not a ship, now."

"Gunboat is turning." said Spiral.

Towards the incoming torpedo, then. The Shells must be screaming at their sensor operator, to have missed their approaching death until the last second.

But was there still time?

"Five solon until impact." said Talon. In all the excitement, she'd missed the moment the two AMMs obliterated their targets.

The ground team was safe, at least for now.

Her eyes were glued to the torpedo's icon as it raced in towards the gunboats. Three… two…

"Weapons f—!" Spiral shouted, cutting herself off as the flash blinked in the cockpit window.

Talon would say this about the Shells on that gunboat: they had a good pilot, to throw their bow around that quickly.

But it hadn't saved them.

"Both targets destroyed." confirmed Talon, as the blast faded.

"The Shells fired even at the most late solon." said Spiral, her subconscious sanzai echoing Talon's own mild admiration of the Shells. "And hit the torpedo. It did not much help them, although."

"Not at that range." added Alex. "That said, it's pretty impressive that they made the shot."

"I'm always happy to compliment an enemy… once they're dead." said his uncle. The Colonel shook his head, smiling thinly. "What's the status on the ground team?"

{Any new information?} Fireblade asked.

{That one knew nothing.} Tempo responded from several hundred mannal behind, sprinting to catch up to the advancing loroi. Just barely within sanzai range; it took some concentration for Fireblade to receive her sending. {Just a laborer.}

That distance still put the mizol well ahead of the ODSTs twice as far again behind her. The humans had technology that was well beyond that of the Union, yes, but the aliens themselves were not quite up to the physical standards of a well-toned loroi.

At least, not for a ten-thousand mannal sprint across the broken terrain of this moon. The prowler had had to drop the ground team off quite a distance from the dig site to maintain stealth. And with the tight time schedule…

The humans would understand.

{Six heavy transports.} Fireblade sent, emphasizing the size of the craft whose ruins now jutted from the sand around them. {Up to 1,200 Shells maximum. Assuming a usual distribution, around eighty Hardtroops; the rest will be primarily laborers.}

{And no map.} noted the mizol. {We will be attacking blind.}

{There are only eighty of them that count.} sent one of the other two teidar that made up their four-loroi assault team. {They may as well chew on their blaster muzzles now, and save us the effort.} Several tendrils of her lime-green hair had worked their way to the front of her face, visible through her helmet visor as they bounced in front of her eyes. Mothwing always had kept her hair a bit longer than her junior rank would normally justify.

Good thing teidar didn't use only their eyes to spot the enemy.

{And save themselves the pain.} sent the third. Razorthorn was one of the few other loroi who matched Fireblade's own hatred for the Enemy in all their forms.

The four loroi approached a rise, not pausing in their charge.

Almost all of the scattered Shell bodies around them that had been smashed to the ground by the earlier blasts were dead already; the few miraculous survivors received a telekinetic snap to the neck as the warriors stormed past.

{The vertical excavation shaft should be two-hundred mannal ahead of us, once we crest this ridge.} Sent Fireblade, her side-channels explaining the plan.

Spreading out, the three teidar waited for Tempo to catch up and take her own place in the spread-out formation.

{Ready.} sent the mizol. Impressively, her sanzai betrayed no tiredness from her exertion.

{Go.} Sand kicked up into the alien sky as Fireblade sprinted forwards.

A mind-signature flared into detection nearby, alarmed at the sound of her footsteps.

She slammed a hammer of force into the signature which had been so kind as to make itself easily detectable.

Her head passed the top of the rise.

Even more Shells lay dead on the ground, scattered around the hundred-mannal-wide plain. Regular Shells walked among them, lifting some and dragging others. Either medics, or perhaps body disposal; but so soon after the attack?

Not her problem.

Closer to her, the corpse of the hardtroop whose mind she had pulverized had not yet fully fallen to the ground.

Even before it landed, three more joined it in death.

The overlapping blast craters from the destroyed transports had raised a ridge in a rough circle around the dig site, and atop that ridge stood four loroi, gazing down at the milling, blast-shocked Shells below.

And with three of them being teidar, 'gazing' proved lethal.

{That's twenty-three for me!} crowed Mothwing, as Shells clattered to the ground. {You, Razorthorn?}

{Sufficient.} the other teidar replied curtly. {The field is clear.}

{Movement!} Sent Fireblade, eyes flicking to the machinery at the top of the excavation tunnel in the center of the corpse-strewn field.

The four sprinted forwards as the cargo elevator installed there whirred to life and dropped down, climbing along the cable down and out of sight.

Almost fast enough to keep the four Shells aboard the cargo platform from being seen… but they were outside of the range of her powers. A blaster bolt from Razorthorn sent the fifth Shell toppling into the open chasm from where it had stood on the precipice.

The cable wobbled as one of the other teidar twisted it, metal groaning. {Like insects on a fishing line.} sent Razorthorn.

{Halt!} Sent Tempo with alarm, kneeling well behind them at the side of a dying Shell.

The cable stilled.

{Explain.} Sent Fireblade, the three teidar still running towards the elevator machinery.

Tempo replied by sending a few scraps of memory from the dying Shell at her feet.

Fighting down the revulsion at seeing through the Enemy's eyes, Fireblade nearly missed a step at the imagery. Her blood ran cold at just what she saw.

{That's a torpedo warhead!} observed Mothwing, shocked. {Being loaded onto the elevator platform.}

{A scuttling charge for whatever they found down there. To be detonated once they reach the bottom.} replied Tempo. {Now dangling hundreds of mannal in the air, suspended by this machinery.} The four of them arrived at the top of the shaft.

The cable disappeared down into the darkness; without the sun overhead at the moment the shaft itself was utterly black beyond the first few mannal.

Fireblade eyed the cable being fed down. It was moving fast, but hopefully the platform wasn't too distant already.

{Your pistol.} She held out her hand to Razorthorn. The purple-haired teidar immediately handed over her small blaster.

Unlike the mid-rank teidar, Mothwing couldn't contain her confusion. {Wouldn't shooting risk hitting the taimat?}

Fireblade took a deep breath, and glanced aside at the young teidar. {Only if I shoot at the platform.}

With that, she stepped off the edge.

Air whistled past her, and for a brief moment she hurtled through the unlit darkness.

Then a brief pulse of light as the blaster in her hand discharged a low-power bolt, illuminating the pitch-black elevator shaft.

Perhaps thirty mannal below her, the platform. Four Shells on it, surrounding a very dangerous container.

'Perhaps ' thirty mannal.

Hopefully her estimate was accurate enough.

A heartbeat later, Fireblade pulsed her powers, pushing herself upwards to arrest her velocity.

She got it almost right.

Over six hundred pilo of loroi and armor slammed hard into the platform, sending it rocking from side-to-side. Her pistol, jarred from her grip, clattered along the metal plates and disappeared over the edge.

Coughing, Fireblade pushed herself off of the floor, spitting blood from a bitten tongue onto her cracked visor.

And then immediately threw herself flat once more, as an Enemy knife-digit whistled overhead.

Her head pounded as she spun to look up at the Shell that had swung at her. Back-lit against the faint light of the top of the shaft.

It disappeared, hurled back into the darkness.

Rough landing or no, four regular Shells versus one teidar was a fight that would only ever end one way.

The one running up behind her had its head twisted around, mind broadcasting one last fading image of its own back as he crumpled to the ground.

A third reached for a pistol, only to have its arm bent over backwards. Chittering in agony, the Shell stumbled backwards… and off the small platform.

The fourth—

Fireblade hammered her mind into the last Shell's psyche, freezing it solid for two beats.

Just long enough for her to carefully push it away from the button that the alien had laid one hand upon.

The button on the side of the taimat warhead.

The button that was as black as Shell blood.

As soon as the Shell's hand was safely distant, Fireblade hurled him over the side.

And let out a breath. Forced her racing pulse to calm down.

{Fireblade, what is the situation?} Tempo asked, her sanzai faint with distance.

{The warhead is secured.} the pallan replied. Had the fight really only taken less than five solon?

The platform continued its descent while she fumbled around for the elevator controls. The only remaining illumination available came from her rank signifiers, which weren't of much use.

{Fireblade, we have located the elevator controls. Is the platform stable enough to safely halt its descent?}

The teidar pallan scoffed. She didn't cause that much collateral damage. With a torpedo warhead sitting right there, this was not the time to be careless with where one threw bodies, after all.

And now more and more Shell mind-signatures were fading into detectable distance, below. She must be approaching the bottom of the shaft. Fireblade grinned, the brief spike of pain from her bitten tongue not nearly enough to mar her anticipation of the upcoming fight.

{Let it continue its descent, Tempo. Once it slows at the bottom, take it back up for you three. I will clear the landing area down here by the time you arrive.}

Tempo's bemused thoughts were only barely receivable at this distance as she acknowledged.

Two hundred solon later, Fireblade stood waiting and watching as the rest of the ground team caught up, walking towards her down the long side-tunnel that she had cleared.

Say what one will about these aliens' comparative lack of physical endurance, but at least their gallen — or equivalent — had thought to build bright flashlights into their helmets. And their weapons.

The ODSTs swept their bright beams across the Shells scattered around the floor.

And the walls.

"[Jesus fuck, what a mess. She did this by herself?]" One of the humans spoke; a younger one, by how his voice sounded. The flashlight slung under his rifle lingered on the hardtroop half-body embedded in the rocky ceiling overhead. Fireblade was quite proud of that — what better way was there to check the structural integrity of a recently-excavated tunnel's roof, after all?

"[Yeah, makes me feel like a damn tourist. Just following behind the devastation. Didn't get shot at, though. Could get used to that.]" A second, also young.

"[I'll say. Where were people like her during the Wars?]" The first, again.

Then their second-in-command spoke, her aged voice rather more appropriate for a warrior. "[On the other side.]"

{Any issues?} Tempo asked.

{Negative. All Shell signatures within the outer dig site eliminated.}

{'Outer'?} asked teidar Mothwing.

Fireblade simply stepped aside, letting the helmet-light that one of the ODSTs had played on her illuminate the letters at her back.

The faded white letters printed on a buried metal surface not of Shell or Union manufacture.

But she'd seen others like them before.

Like on the armor of the ODST in front of her, frozen at the sight.

[EMERGENCY AIRLOCK 085-DORSAL]

[UNSC MANDELBROT INF-131]