RONAN The alarm klaxon screamed again, sharp and endless, drilling straight through my skull and bouncing inside the Siege Crawler until it was hard to think. The ramp at the back dropped without warning. Light exploded into the compartment, cutting through the smoke and shoving it aside as fresh air rushed in. The sudden change made my lungs seize. I coughed hard, over and over, my chest burning with every pull of breath. I pushed myself up too fast, forgetting where I was, and my helmet slammed into a low duct overhead. The impact rattled my teeth. For a second everything spun. I fell back into the seat, stunned and slow, my hands gripping the edge to keep myself upright. The smoke thinned for a brief moment, just long enough. My eyes drifted left before I could stop them. The space where the commander and gunner had been was soaked red. Blood pooled on the floor, thick and dark. An arm lay torn off at the bicep, half sunk in the mess, bits of blackened metal clinging to it. Other pieces slid down from above, scraps of gear and flesh pulled loose by gravity, hitting the floor with dull sounds. My stomach twisted, but my body locked it down. There was no room for shock. A hand clamped around my arm and pulled hard. The grip snapped me back. I turned my head and saw Victor hauling me toward the open ramp without looking back. I forced my legs to work and moved on my own. His hand dropped from my forearm as I stumbled forward. And I stepped out of the smoke and into the open air. The smell followed me anyway. Burned metal. Melted plastic. Something heavy and human underneath it all. As soon as I cleared the cloud of vaporized wreckage and bodies, my knees buckled. I dropped to the ground and hacked until my throat burned raw. My body took over, trying to purge everything I had just breathed in. It hurt, and it was loud, and I stayed there until the worst of it passed. I sat up slowly. My helmet had slipped down and cut into my view, so I shoved it back into place with shaking hands. I lifted my head. A tight ring of soldiers stood around the rear of the Siege Crawler, every one of them facing outward. Weapons raised. Fingers steady. Eyes scanning. The battle was still happening, but it was drifting away from us. The cracks and shrills of exchanged fire were thinner now, distant. If we were still in immediate danger, it would have sounded closer, heavier.Whatever had hit us marked the last major loss the brigade took here. Jonah moved through the group, quick and focused, checking people without slowing. When he reached me, I was still coughing. I raised my thumb. He gave a short nod and moved on, already pulling control back together. Victor dropped beside me, coughing just as hard, his shoulders shaking. I watched him for a moment. Between breaths, I asked, “Did we get hit by a Pilum?” He nodded once, still unable to speak. “I thought nobody survived those,” I said. He pulled in a long, rough breath that scraped on the way down. “Interceptors fired right before impact. Must have damaged it.” “So we got lucky,” I said, a short laugh slipping out before I could stop it. Victor shook his head slowly. “Some of us did.” The man across the table looked barely held together. His face was swollen and broken in places that would never heal clean. Bruises layered over cuts, dried blood cracking when he moved. His right eye was sealed shut, puffed and dark, fresh blood oozing from a deep split at its corner. His lips were torn and swollen, pulled back into a crooked, bloody smile aimed at me and Victor. Several teeth were missing. I could not tell if they were knocked out today or gone long before this. The soldiers who caught him had driven him into a corner like an animal with nowhere left to run.They had not been gentle when they took him down. I felt no judgment toward them. We had been awake for nearly seventy-two hours, running, fighting, losing people. Men like him had been feeding on antigovernment lies since before the war started. Now they let themselves be used, pointed and aimed, killing people in uniform without hesitation. I checked the time in my virtual display, then my travel window to the rendezvous point. It was tight, too tight, but I still had just enough room to help Victor with the questioning. If we pulled something useful out of this, it could clear my route. If we found other insurgent sites, artillery could erase them. The guns at Blackstone International Terminal were close enough to reach. I forced my attention back to the table. Victor sat on one side. The prisoner sat across from him. I took the head position and steadied my breathing. The man laughed, sharp and ugly. “Go fuck yourself, Fed.” Victor’s jaw tightened. I caught it in the corner of my eye, and a small smile tugged at my mouth despite myself. If the man kept pushing, he would earn more damage. “You’re done,” I said. “Make this easier on yourself. Shorten the time you spend locked up.” “I don’t recognize your socialist judges,” he spat.“Me and mine will bleed and die to clean this country of people like you.” “Any hole you throw me in is nothing compared to what I’m ready for.”