The warehouse loomed like a rusted skeleton in the lower Wards, tucked between abandoned shipping crates and half-functional streetlights that flickered just enough to make the shadows feel alive.
Jace adjusted his grip on his rifle. It was too quiet.
The intel had been solid. The smuggling ring was holding people here. But from the outside, the place looked dead. And that didn't sit right.
Bailey's voice crackled over their comms. "You're green to move. Keep it clean."
Jace exhaled slowly. "Alright. Dawes, with me. The rest of you, hold position until we clear the entry."
Leila's voice came through without hesitation. "Copy that."
Selyna sighed into the channel. "You two taking point? This should be fun."
Jace ignored her.
They approached the warehouse door – metal, reinforced, but old. Jace knelt, activating his omni-tool. "I can override the lock, but it'll take a second."
Leila rolled her eyes. "Or I can do this."
Before Jace could react, she pulled a compact breaching charge from her belt, slapped it on the panel, and detonated it. The lock sputtered, sparked, then died.
Jace glared at her. "Subtle."
She wasn't reckless. She was fearless. And that was worse. Because it meant she didn't believe backup would ever come.
Leila grinned. "It worked."
Jace muttered a curse and pushed inside first. The interior was a maze of stacked crates and dim lighting. Shipping containers lined the walls, metal doors bolted shut. The air was thick with machine oil, sweat, and something else – something acrid, wrong.
Jace moved low, controlled, rifle up. Leila was beside him, but moving differently. She wasn't clearing corners. Wasn't covering angles. She was listening.
Jace noticed too late.
The first shot rang out from somewhere above. Jace reacted instantly, dropping to cover.
Leila, on the other hand, moved toward it.
Jace cursed, grabbing the back of her armor and yanking her down behind a stack of crates. She hissed, pushing against his grip. "What the hell – "
Jace's voice was low, sharp. "Cover first. Then move."
Leila glared. "I had it."
Whatever argument Jace had come up with dies on his tongue within the next second as the room erupted in gunfire. Figures moved in the shadows. Traffickers. Armed. They weren't amateurs. Tight formations. Clean movements. The kind of training you didn't get from a street gang. Which meant someone had money – and muscle.
Jace's instincts took over. He swept left, laying down covering fire, forcing them to reposition.
Leila was already on the move, darting right, using the crates for cover. Not slow. Not tactical. Just fast. Too fast.
Jace gritted his teeth. They were moving at two different speeds.
That was a problem.
"Wilcox, Dawes, status?" Bailey's voice cut through the noise.
Jace fired another burst before answering. "Engaged. Multiple hostiles."
Leila's voice was less rushed. "We've got it handled."
Jace shot her a look. Leila just smirked.
The hell we do, Jace thought.
There was a half-second delay on the line. Then Bailey's voice came back, lower now. Clipped.
"Copy that. Contain. And stay alive."
Cassian had trained for this. Or at least, he thought he had. He had spent years at the academy, perfecting his technique. Shooting drills. Tactical formations. Controlled engagements. He had aced every combat scenario, every live-fire exercise.
But those had been clean.
This was chaos.
Gunfire lit up the warehouse, rounds sparking off shipping crates, punching into rusted steel. Jace and Leila were already engaged, moving fast, returning fire. Selyna was laughing like she was having fun. Nyxara was coordinating cover angles from the doorway.
But Cassian couldn't move.
His training told him what to do. Cover. Fire. Suppress. Advance.
He knew the sequence. He knew exactly what was supposed to happen. But his legs felt locked.
Because this wasn't a simulation. Because in the simulations, no one bled out beside you. No one screamed. No one looked at you like they were counting on you to get it right. In the sims, you were a Solvaris. Untouchable. In here? You were just another rookie with a target on your back.
This was real.
And real meant people died.
He saw a figure moving across the upper walkway. Hostile. Armed. Cassian knew he needed to take the shot. His hand went to his rifle. But he didn't fire.
Because what if he missed? What if he hesitated half a second too long? What if the next shot was coming for him?
His chest felt too tight. Everything was too loud. And seemingly against his will, Cassian Solvaris hesitated.
He caught a blur of movement – Leila, ducking into cover, barking something he couldn't hear. Nyxara's voice crackled over the comms, too fast, too technical to register. The world was moving without him. That was the part that scared him most.
Jace's voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Cassian, move! Now!"
Cassian sucked in a sharp breath.
His body reacted before his brain caught up. He ducked into cover, heart hammering against his ribs. His rifle felt heavier than it should. His hands were damp inside his gloves. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to steady his breathing.
One mistake.
That's all it was.
Just one mistake.
Jace's gaze snapped to him. "You good?"
Cassian nodded once. Too fast. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."
Jace didn't buy it, but he didn't have time to argue, because the next wave of fire was coming fast.
And Cassian couldn't afford to freeze again.
The fight had turned. The initial gunfire had forced the traffickers into cover, but now? Now they were running.
Jace was calling orders over comms, keeping the squad moving, sweeping for hostages. Cassian was holding his ground – barely. Leila was moving through the battlefield like a street fight - quick, lithe and dangerous. Nyxara was tracking signals from the front entrance.
Selyna was hunting.
She saw one of the traffickers, a human in an armored vest, bolt left, scrambling toward a side exit.
He wasn't firing back. He was running.
Selyna grinned.
Coward.
She moved fast, vaulting over a crate, cutting him off before he could reach the door. The second he saw her, he turned, raising his weapon. Selyna was already too close. Her elbow slammed into his wrist, knocking the gun wide. Then she drove him against the wall with enough force to rattle the rusted frame.
His breath came out in a sharp gasp. Selyna held him there, one hand gripping his collar, the other curling into a fist. "Where are they?" she demanded.
The trafficker wheezed. "I– I don't– "
Selyna punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, coughing. She didn't let go.
"Try again."
He looked up, panicked now. "Look, I just– I just move shipments. I don't know– "
Wrong answer.
Selyna slammed him back again, her grip tightening. "Where. Are. They?"
The panic in his eyes flickered into something else. Something like real fear.
Good.
Selyna lifted her fist again.
And that was when Jace grabbed her wrist. "Selyna." His voice was sharp, clipped, full of warning.
Selyna barely registered it. She just jerked against his grip. "He's not talking."
Jace's hold didn't budge. "We do this right, not fast."
The words hit like a punch to the gut.
Selyna stared at him, jaw tight, breath sharp. For a second – just a second – she considered ignoring him. Considered finishing this the way she knew how.
Because fear worked. Because pain got results. Because C-Sec's rules didn't mean shit when the other side didn't follow them.
But Jace's eyes didn't waver. His voice didn't rise. But there was something in his stance – shoulders squared, every line of him locked into place – that said he'd fought bigger battles than this one. And won.
And for the first time, Selyna realized how serious he was. This wasn't him pulling rank. This was him making a choice.
A choice that said there was a line they weren't crossing tonight.
Selyna exhaled slowly, before she let go. The trafficker sagged against the wall, coughing. Jace released her wrist. She rolled her shoulders, shaking out the tension.
Then she smirked. "Fine. Have it your way."
She didn't argue. Didn't push back. Because he was right.
And that was the worst part.
It wasn't the rules that got under her skin. It was the fact that for the first time in years, someone else had kept her from crossing a line – and she'd let them.
The room was a mess of bodies and smoke.
The gunfire had stopped. The echoes still rang in Jace's ears. They had secured the warehouse, but they weren't done.
Jace moved forward first, rifle up, scanning for any remaining hostiles. Then he heard it – the sound of movement from behind the shipping containers.
Nyxara's voice crackled over comms. "I've got a lock on the holding area – north side, past the secondary exit."
Leila was already moving. Jace cursed, following. The victims were huddled in a caged-off section, eyes wide with panic. Seven of them. All scared.
Jace stepped closer, weapon lowered, keeping his voice even. "C-Sec. You're safe now."
A few of them hesitated.
One. a young human woman, wasn't hesitating. She was running.
"Wait–!" Jace reached out, but she was already past him. She was panicked, running toward the far exit – toward open gunfire from the suppression team outside the warehouse securing the traffickers' escape route.
Leila moved instantly. She stepped between the woman and the chaos – just as a gunshot rang out. Jace barely had time to register it before Leila jerked back, crumpling to the floor.
"Dawes!" Jace was already dropping to one knee, his rifle slung back as he reached for her. She was clutching her arm, armor scorched from a close-range blast.
Leila gritted her teeth. "Shit."
Cassian appeared a second later, his hands hovering near her shoulder. "You're hit. Let me–"
Leila swatted him away. "I'm fine."
Cassian did not look convinced.
Jace's jaw tightened. "You're bleeding."
Leila let out a sharp breath, sitting up. "Nothing vital. Armor took most of it."
Cassian's mandibles twitched. "You still took a hit. You should– "
"I said I'm fine!"
She moved to stand. Cassian and Jace both reached for her at the same time.
Leila shoved them off. "Seriously? I got shot, not crippled."
Jace exhaled sharply, stepping back. Leila rolled her shoulder, grimacing but not saying a damn word about it.
Half the traffickers were in custody, and the other half were gone. Slipped out during the fight, probably through a back exit they hadn't secured in time.
Bailey's voice crackled over comms. "Do we have the victims?"
Jace pressed his hand to his ear. "Affirmative. We're clear."
Bailey exhaled. "Understood. Bring them in."
They weren't celebrating.
Because this wasn't a clean victory. They had gotten the victims out. But they had also made mistakes.