RONAN We were going to miss insurgents. Some of them would slip through unseen. Soldiers were going to die because the right intelligence would not reach the right people at the right moment. That truth had settled into me early. It first became real when I took on this role, sitting inside a command vehicle as it rolled into launch position with the rest of the unit. Back then, I brought the problem to Victor. He had gone quiet, thinking it over, then told me that soldiers had been dying for those same reasons for hundreds of years. Wars changed. Tools changed. That part never did. Training, sharp senses, and instinct were what soldiers leaned on when plans failed. Those were the last things left when information ran dry.Victor told me our job was not to make war perfect. Our job was to shift the balance. We were meant to raise the odds just enough in favor of the men and women fighting on the ground. We were meant to give them a better chance to win. A better chance to come home alive. Even so, there would always be gaps. Some things could never be known in time. That understanding weighed on me now as I sat inside the Siege Crawler. Heat wrapped around me, trapped by thick armor and sealed panels. Sweat soaked through my clothes and ran down my back. We were still waiting. Waiting for the order to move. Waiting for the first step into chaos. My hand wiped across my brow, spreading the sweat instead of clearing it.Seconds later, the sting followed as it crept into my eyes. The urge to rub at them burned. The area around the Pain Management Device itched badly. Every nerve seemed aware of it. The armored vest pressed close, its small flexible plates catching on corners whenever I shifted. The adhesive tugged at my skin, sharp and uncomfortable. Eyes closed without thought. Pressure built inside my chest. The urge to shout, to lash out, rose up my spine and locked into my shoulders. Breath became the only thing I could control. Slow breath in. Slow breath out. The space felt smaller with every second. Claustrophobic. Heavy. Escape felt impossible. Then my mother’s face came to mind. Still. Quiet. Gone. That image forced everything else back.Breathing slowed. Heartbeat followed. My mouth opened. Lips formed the words, but sound never left my throat. For you, Mama. A tight crease formed on my brow as I corrected myself. Weakness would not help. No experience was too painful if it meant fighting the people who had torn my family apart. No discomfort was too much if it pushed me even the smallest step closer to finding the ones responsible. Pain was temporary. Purpose was not. A sharp slap hit my shoulder and dragged me back into the moment. Thought broke apart. The space was too tight to turn fully, so only part of my body shifted. Out of the corner of my eye, Victor came into view. His presence was solid, grounding. His voice cut through the noise as soon as I focused on him. Major Davis wants you to check in. A nod answered him. My body twisted the other way. Past the munition conveyor belt, I looked toward the commander of the entire unit. The force was lined up and ready to throw itself across the bridge the moment the order came. Major Davis sat steady, eyes fixed on me, expression firm and expectant. Yes, Major? The words came out calm, practiced. One eyebrow rose. Your head in the game, Ashcroft? A single nod followed. Just sweating like hell waiting for this to start. A small smirk pulled at his mouth. Then maybe you should listen when I ask if we are ready to roll. My eyes dropped back to the display. The truth came easily. We could use a few more weeks to break all the encryptions. That time does not exist. So yes. Let us roll.Hooah, Victor shouted from behind me, loud and sharp. Major Davis answered with a firm nod. His eyes looked tired, worn down by too many hours and too many decisions, but resolve still held strong beneath it. Keep breaking whatever you can, he said. Feed the battle net with anything useful the moment you find it. His attention returned to the screens. Both he and the lieutenant began typing fast, voices overlapping as orders were spoken aloud. A thin mechanical whine filled the Siege Crawler. Above me, the crew’s feet began to rotate as the turret spun fast. Almost a full circle one way, then back the other. The munition conveyor stretched tight. It was the only thing stopping a complete rotation. A brief thought crossed my mind about poor design. That thought vanished when the vehicle lurched forward. The tactical display showed the entire unit moving as one body, rolling toward the river. Motion replaced waiting. Victor’s voice came through the headset inside my ear protection, steady and controlled. Forward recon reports the bridge is secured. An IED was found on one support and deactivated. They believe it was not strong enough to bring the bridge down. The first step had been taken. The unknown waited ahead.