Chapter 5

5

T he Dream's briefing room was off the back of the bridge. Originally it had been storage space, but since it was the only room big enough to fit the entire crew, it had long since been retrofitted. Covak dropped into a sturdy chair opposite Ryke with a grunt.

"Boss." He nodded, looking up as the rest of the crew filed in behind him, jostling for position as they all sat down.

"Alright, settle down, you lot, or I'll put you two in time out," Ryke growled when it looked like Rann and Anson were about to come to blows over the chair under the window. He had no idea why they both wanted the same chair. It was exactly the same as all the others in the room, reinforced metal and battered leather.

"Okay, we've crossed into human space and are running silent to avoid detection," Ryke continued when Rann won the battle for the chair and Anson slunk off to take one in the corner, glaring daggers at their second in command. "Anson, stop sulking and tell me how we're looking?"

The B'Kaar leaned forward, his brows knitting together in suspicion. "We're looking exactly how we are. A mercenary ship hurtling through human-held space in violation of more treaties than I want to list, most of them with the Lathar. How, exactly, are we avoiding detection, Ryke? Humans might not be as advanced as the rest of the galaxy, but they're not idiots."

Ryke shrugged. "Human tech isn't quite up to what we have packed onto the Dream . And besides," he added with a sly grin, "when Murphy, the human president, was aboard, he left us with a few… presents to help us navigate human space."

Davis broke in. "What he's not saying is that President Murphy gave us NOMAD access."

Rann frowned. "What's NOMAD access?"

Davis leaned back in his chair. "The NOMADs are the group I used to work for."

The room dropped silent. It was the first time Tell had said anything about the ultra-secret human organization he worked for before joining the team. In all honesty, Covak wasn't sure the male had ever stopped working for them. He was just doing it aboard an alien mercenary ship now.

"Long story." He waved dismissively. "And I won't bore you with it now. But that access basically means we can go anywhere and do anything in human space, flash our NOMAD authorization, and we instantly become invisible."

Covak blinked, his ears pricking up. "Ice cream stop?"

Deep chuckles filled the air, but Ryke waved the suggestion off, his expression turning serious.

"We have more intel on the compound where Jane is being held." He gestured to the hologram in the middle of the table, which flickered to life and displayed the sprawling complex they'd seen before.

Davis leaned forward, his forearms resting lightly on the battered metal of the table in front of him. "I've reached out to my contacts, and from what I can gather, Jane—now going by the name Elena Hargrove—was an up-and-coming ace flyer pilot. She was winning races left, right, and center on the professional race circuit until she spun out on a course and had a bad accident. She's been in medical care since then and has lost her memory."

Covak frowned. "I'm not following. If she's a human pilot, how does she know Zero from the Warborne? And where does the nonhuman DNA come from?"

Davis let the silence stretch out for a moment until Covak was ready to growl and threaten to rip his head off. Were all humans so draanthing dramatic?

"That's just the thing," Davis said. "Until three months ago Elena Hargrove didn't exist. None of my contacts can find anything in the system older than that. And believe me, if we can't find her, no one can." He gestured at the image of Jane on the holo in front of them. "If I didn't know any better, I would suspect she was NOMAD as well."

Covak arched his eyebrow. "Could she be?"

Davis shook his head. "No. I got an update from Archer and Dr. Dallarosa on the Warborne. According to them, the project have had Jane for years, not months. It's a cover identity, but for what reason, I don't know. If she's not human, she technically doesn't exist…so there's no need to hide her from a human family or anything like that."

Ryke cut in. "Whatever the reason, we're getting her out of there. We can figure everything else out later. Rann, what have you got?"

Rann slid his dataflex across the table under the holo-drive, and the view above it changed. Instead of the aerial view of the compound, they now had street-level views.

"The compound is heavily fortified, but we have several entry points marked. We'll split into three teams—distraction, data control, and extraction."

Covak grunted as he leaned forward. He was usually on the distraction team but for this one he'd better be on extraction. Jane was his, had been from the moment he'd seen her in that holo-recording. She just didn't know it yet.

"Team one will create distractions at key points around the perimeter," Rann continued, and several areas of the map lit up. "This will draw their security focus outward. Meanwhile Anson will dig into their surveillance network to make sure they don't see us."

Anson grinned broadly. "They won't know what hit them."

"And extraction?" Covak rumbled, his deep voice rolling around the room. "You leading that one?"

Rann shook his head. "I'm running overwatch on this one. You're on extraction. Your objective is to get Jane and bring her back here safe and sound. You'll be on your own for this one. Think you can handle it?"

"Abso- frexxing -lutely. I'm a one-Vorrtan-army. Remember?" He grinned. A chance to rescue the damsel in distress? He was all over that like a bad rash.

Rann nodded. "Excellent. The compound's outer defenses are standard human military fare—electrified fences, guard towers, and patrols. The real challenge will be inside with automated defenses and more patrols. The compound's got inner layers of security that can't be hacked remotely. Once we get in there, it's going to be a close-quarters fight."

Covak grinned, his claws glinting under the mission room's lights. "Sounds like my kind of party."

Davis chimed in. "I've rigged up some EMP charges. Close range only since we don't want to fry either the shuttle, or if Jane is like Zero, damage any of her systems. We can deploy them to take out electronic surveillance and automated defenses, but they won't last long. Once you're in, speed is critical. I don't know these particular assholes, but I've known a lot like them, so chances are they'll have a hardcore security team around Jane."

Ryke nodded in agreement. "We've got one shot at this, and we're not coming back empty-handed. Everyone clear on what they need to do?"

A collective nod confirmed the team's readiness. Ryke's ice-blue eyes locked on to each of them, one by one, gauging their resolve. "Good. Gear up. We hit the target system in one hour."

She didn't recognize any of this.

Jesh watched out the window as the sleek, black car glided through the streets, its tinted windows reflecting the pristine facades of towering skyscrapers. Inside, Jesh sat rigidly, her arms wrapped around herself. The air was thick with tension, punctuated only by the soft hum of the vehicle's engine and the occasional rustle of Amanda's designer suit as she shifted uncomfortably.

Jesh's gaze was fixed on the window, but she'd stopped looking at gleaming buildings and holographic advertisements as they passed them. Instead, her mind was a chaotic whirlwind of questions, and each was more unsettling than the last. Who—no, what was she? And what did these people want from her? Why the ruse?

And the worried looks her "mother" kept shooting her way from across the backseat weren't lost on Jesh. They were like accusing little pinpricks on her skin… the look in Amanda's eyes full of worry for her injured daughter.

"Elena, sweetheart," Amanda said softly, "are you feeling alright? You've been so quiet since we left Dr. Lewis's office."

She turned her head slightly, and met Amanda's eyes. They were a deep blue, filled with motherly concern. But Jesh knew better now. She could see the calculation behind that gaze, the subtle tightening around Amanda's eyes that betrayed her true emotions: fear and anticipation.

"I'm just tired," she replied, her voice sounding rusty and foreign to her ears. Was it always this husky, or was that a result of whatever they had done to her before she woke up? "The tests…I'm so tired."

Amanda nodded, reaching out to pat her hand. The touch sent a jolt through her system, and she had to fight the urge to snatch her hand back. "Of course, sweetheart. We'll be home soon, and then you can rest."

Home.

The word echoed hollowly in Jesh's mind. Despite what they had been trying to tell her, she knew with bone-deep certainty that she hadn't grow up here. She hadn't attended the prestigious academy whose holographic crest they'd passed moments ago. She hadn't ever set foot in the impressive hall Amanda had pointed out as the location of her first dance recital.

Amanda prattled on about dinner plans and upcoming social engagements, but Jesh let her mind wander, sifting through the fragments of information she'd gleaned during the doctor's visit. She analyzed them in case she'd missed something, turning them over to study them from a different angle in case there was a detail she hadn't seen from the previous perspective.

She was obviously some kind of experiment, maybe not even human. Amanda had referred to her as an "it," not a "she." A chill rolled down her spine, but she pushed on with the thought. Okay, if she wasn't human, what was she? Was she some kind of advanced clone? A synthetic being? Is that why she had no memory beyond the past eight days? Had she only been born last week?

J10-10M3E activation date 345937. 4, the voice said suddenly. Jesh blinked. Okay, so the voice in the doctor's office hadn't been an episode of mania brought on by the stress of the tests.

What does that mean? she asked, hoping the voice would respond. How long ago was that?

After a momentary pause, Chronologically, that was forty-seven years, four months, and three days ago .

Her eyes widened, and she turned to stare at her reflection in the car window to cover the movement. The face that looked back at her couldn't have belonged to someone pushing fifty. She didn't even look thirty yet. Her skin was smooth, her eyes bright, her hair a dark, chestnut brown without a hint of gray.

Wait, so J10-10M3E is me? she asked, but this time, the voice remained silent. Frustration bubbled up inside her. The damn thing only seemed to answer what it wanted to.

Did Dr. Lewis create me?

More silence.

Who created me?

Finally, the voice responded, Onboard memory inaccessible.

What the hell? Her brow furrowed. What's onboard memory?

A flood of information cascaded through her mind—technical specifications and schematics that meant nothing to her. But one phrase stood out from the others: "Root access from onboard denied."

She had no idea what it meant, but at least the voice was communicating now. She latched on to that, desperate for any information that might help her understand what the hell was going on.

What could cause the onboard to lose root access?

Physical damage to memory storage units, the voice began. Corruption of data due to system overload. Viral infection of core programming. Electromagnetic pulse disruption.

Her brows snapped together. It was like listening to someone describe computer problems, not issues with a living, breathing person.

Deliberate memory wipe by unauthorized user, the voice continued. Catastrophic system failure during update process.

But then, one possibility stood out from the rest:

Compromise of neural pathways and synthetic synapses due to radiation.

This caught Jesh's attention. It sounded more… biological, somehow.

Wait, Jesh thought, a memory of overheard conversations in the hospital surfacing. So, like, radiation sickness caused by an engine explosion?

That is a possibility , the voice confirmed.

Before she could process the new information, she realized that Amanda was speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the back seat.

"Yeah, I think it's glitching," Amanda murmured into what looked like an ordinary bracelet. "Can I terminate now?"

Ice flooded Jesh's veins. Terminate. They were going to kill her.

Threat level increased , the voice announced. Recommend you evacuate the are a immediately.

"Yeah, no shit," she muttered as she yanked on the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. Locked. She whirled to face Amanda and found herself staring down the barrel of a sleek, matte-black pistol.

"Fucking robots," Amanda snarled, hatred twisting her features into something almost inhuman. "I fucking hate robots."

Time slowed. She could see the minute trembling of Amanda's trigger finger, hear the quickening of her heartbeat, the pulse under the skin of her throat.

She ducked automatically as the sound of the gunshot rang out in the confined space of the car. The bitter smell of energy discharged filled the air as she lunged forward, moving automatically as she wrenched the gun from Amanda's hand.

Without thinking, she slammed the butt of the gun into the side of her attacker's head. Amanda slumped over the back seat, unconscious, a thin trickle of blood marring her perfectly coiffed hair to drip onto the leather below.

Jesh whipped her head around and focused on the driver.

"Code red! Code red!" he barked into a radio clipped to his collar, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Subject is active and hostile! Morris is down! I repeat, Morris is down!"

A crackle of static was followed by a tinny voice responding, "Copy that. Containment teams deploying. Proceed to Checkpoint Alpha."

"Negative!" the driver shouted back, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror. His panicked gaze clashing with hers. "Subject is armed and dangerous. I'm bringing her in hot. Clear the gates and have a strike team ready!"

Through the windshield, the high walls of the compound loomed rapidly. The gates were already beginning to open, and she could make out figures in dark uniforms taking up positions.

"All units, be advised," the driver continued, his voice strained. "Subject has enhanced capabilities. Extreme caution is?—"

He cut off abruptly as Jesh raised the gun and aimed at the barrier between the front and back seats, his eyes widening in fear. "Oh shi?—"

She pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.

"Fuck!"

The screen was bulletproof.

"How do I get out?" she screamed at the voice in her head, no longer caring about keeping her internal dialogue silent.

Kick the door at the highlighted point.

Her vision was overlaid with a schematic of the car door, a specific spot glowing red. It was as if she had some kind of built-in heads-up display. Another time, she might have marveled at this discovery. Not now. She needed to get out of this fucking car before it went through those gates.

Bracing herself against the unconscious Amanda, she drew back her legs and slammed her feet into the highlighted area as hard as she could. The door exploded outward in a scream of metal, the rush of wind whipping her hair across her face.

The car hurtled toward the compound gates, tires screeching against asphalt. Alarms wailed, their piercing shrieks assaulting her ears. She squinted against the sudden onslaught of flashing red lights, her pupils dilating to compensate.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. Sleek, black vehicles roared down the road toward her, converging on her position from all directions. Like sharks circling their prey, they closed in, the whine of their engines growing louder by the second.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she counted—one, two, five, eight pursuers. Each second brought them closer, their hulking forms growing larger in the windows. She could almost feel the net tightening around her as she looked at the speeding asphalt through the ruined door, her time running out with every passing second.

Hostiles incoming, the voice warned, unnecessarily.

"I know!" she screamed and then threw herself from the vehicle, automatically tucking into a roll as she hit the ground. The world spun around her in a jumble of color and motion before she found her feet and took off running as though she leapt from speeding cars every day of her life.

It wasn't until she was through the closing gate, the sounds of pursuit fading behind her, that she realized she should be in agony. The fall from the car, the impact with the ground—it should have left her battered and bruised, if not worse.

But there she felt no pain.

She glanced down at her arm as she ran. Her skin was torn and bloody, but she couldn't feel it. It might as well have been a tear in her jacket sleeve. As she watched, the wound began to close from the edges inward.

Why doesn't it hurt? she asked the voice.

Pain responses are offline, came the matter-of-fact reply. Then, as if this were perfectly normal, the voice continued, Escape route due north.

A glowing path appeared in Jesh's vision, overlaying the real world like an augmented reality game.

She didn't think. She just ran, her feet pounding the pavement in a steady rhythm. Behind her, she could hear the shouts of her pursuers, the whine of electro-car engines, and the thump of boots on concrete. But she was faster, her body pushing beyond normal human limits.

The cityscape blurred around her as she ran, her mind racing even faster than her feet. Who was she? What was she? And most importantly, what the hell did she do now?