The Versk team can’t see outside the shuttle’s windowless hull as the transport drifts downward toward the jagged spine of a mountain range. They are unaware of the hidden anti-air sites that stand down as confirmation codes are relayed between AI minds, or of how the Mukata-Heisen complex’s towering blast doors grind open, welcoming the transport home like a wayward insect.

  Lanis, however, is attuned enough to the sensations of flight to guess that the shuttle’s odd descent is reaching its termination point, and she rightly guesses that it isn’t a simple landing pad that it settles upon with a hydraulic groan.

  The survivors of the Versk team slowly shuffle down the transport’s ramp, shielding their eyes against the sudden glare of artificial light. Lanis expects a hangar bay—some secretive base akin to the Versk suit complex, perhaps—but the scene that greets her is something else entirely. Judging by the murmurs of surprise that erupt around her, she isn’t the only one to have such a reaction.

  This compound is more than a hangar. It’s a city.

  The chamber in which the Murkata transport has come to rest could house a Fleet carrier and still have room to echo. Massive pillars rise in vertigo-inducing intervals throughout the chamber, jolting a memory from Lanis of a fantastic dwarven mountain-hold from a book that she read as a child. From each of these internal towers sprays a webwork of brightly lit hallways and gantries, their lights winking overhead as they slowly shuffle people and heavy equipment from one location to the next.

  Dozens of sword-thin intercept drones and heavier manned gunships lie in wait like dormant predators along the floor, while beyond them rest several more bulky shuttles like the one they’ve just arrived in on. Green-clad technicians scurry between the craft, loading missiles and ensuring that lance-cannons are fully charged, while helmeted pilots linger in clusters beside their ships, clearly on standby for orders.

  Lanis nearly stumbles when she recognizes a blue Fleet insignia emblazoned on one of the waiting shuttles, but her attention is quickly drawn elsewhere, beyond the shuttle, to the far end of the hall.

  Four massive Suits loom like giants along the wall. The dark-green Murkata mechs must be thousand tonners at least; they aren’t as tall as the Insertion Unit that she faced in the Cauldron, but they’re thick and brutish things all the same, each capable of crushing Hex in one hand.

  Not for the first time, Lanis re-calibrates her understanding of Terra’s Zaibatsu mega-corporations.

  And Murkata is second still to Kaisho-Renalis, she thinks. She mouths a prayer, followed by an expletive.

  Lanis’ reverie is interrupted as Murkata medical staff and security personnel swarm through the dazed Versk team. They rattle off corporate code-speak as they peel off several limping Versk technicians, triaging them with brisk efficiency. A pair of white-robed medics suddenly materialize by Lanis’ side, and attempt to gently coax her into one of the waiting gurneys. Lanis grabs hold of Mirem’s arm and fiercely shakes her head.

  “I stay with them,” Lanis says, gesturing behind Mirem; Ash, Sander, and Booker step up beside her in silent support.

  A tall Murkata officer in tactical armor strides through the controlled chaos and gives a calming signal to the two medics. He quickly looks Lanis up and down, and takes in her protectors with a secondary glance.

  “You’re the pilot,” he states. “You need medical attention.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Lanis begins, but Mirem interrupts her.

  “They’re here to help. You should at least let them take a look at your hands…” Mirem says in a low voice.

  The Murkata officer’s pale mouth tightens fractionally as he listens, clearly unused to his recommendations needing any support.

  “Where is your tech lead? Heinrich Moore?” he asks, scanning the crowd beyond Lanis and the others.

  “He’s dead,” Ash says, pushing herself forward. “I’m tech lead now. And our pilot isn’t going anywhere without us."

  The officer hesitates. He looks beyond them again, to the other Versk team members. He barks an unintelligible word, which is answered back by one of his comrades with a shake of his head. Lanis has the feeling that his orders are being updated through the implanted comms unit behind his ear.

  “Fine. All of you then,” he says in a flat voice.

  Lanis has the impression that the Murkata sec members expect her to be obsequious and pathetically grateful for her extraction—and she is, grateful, that is. But there’s a sense of looming superiority from the Zaibatsu corp members that’s already set her on edge; that, and the feeling of being totally powerless, in the grip of events and powers that she can only vaguely comprehend. She was used to such treatment from Fleet, but she’s learned her lesson in blindly trusting the so-called wisdom of power.

  The medics give up on trying to entice Lanis into the waiting gurney, and instead troop behind her as the officer and two other guards lead the small group out of the hangar. A pale door hisses open, and then they’re walking through brightly-lit metallic hallways, following a blue line on the floor.

  “On behalf of Murkata-Heisen, I am sorry for your loss,” the Murkata officer formally states, bowing his head slightly as he walks beside Lanis, ignoring the others. “Later, I will show you to our Heisen reliquary shrine, if you wish, when other matters are attended to.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Lanis absently nods and mutters a thanks, unsure of what else to say. She glances at Mirem, who gives the barest of confused shrugs.

  Great, more corporate eccentricities, Lanis thinks.

  They soon arrive at the Murkata infirmity, and Booker and Lanis are coaxed into adjoining curtained cubicles while the others stand outside, speaking in low voices.

  “You have five minutes,” Lanis says as a white-robed Murkata medi-tech and two assistants enter the room.

  The woman gives Lanis a rueful smile, clearly used to difficult patients. “Don’t worry, my superiors told me the same thing. Seems you’re a woman in high demand.”

  Lanis nods, and unceremoniously peels off her filthy Versk pilot suit, standing naked before the woman. She has to admit, it does feel wonderful to finally have the thing off of her.

  There’s a rapid-fire battery of tests and hand-held scans by the medi-tech and her assistants. The worst of Lanis’ bruises are confirmed as simple contusions; her hands are cleaned and dressed by one assistant, while another wipes down nearly her whole body with some sort of antiseptic-smelling cleanser before drawing her blood.

  Meanwhile the medi-tech gently prods and scans the area around Lanis’ neural shunt.

  “Remarkable.” the woman mutters. “I’ve never treated a Navigator before, but everything seems grossly intact. You could use some sleep and a full neurological work-up—but I suppose that will have to wait, won’t it?”

  One of the assistants steps out, and returns a moment later with a Murkata uniform.

  “How did you know I was a Navigator?” Lanis asks, her voice retaining an edge of suspicion.

  The medi-tech smiles tightly. “I’m familiar with other Fleet implants. That, and we were forewarned of your arrival. Here: clean clothes.” She takes the green Murkata uniform from the medic’s hands and sets it next to Lanis. “If you don’t mind, we’ll put that pilot suit in the incinerator,” she says, curling her nose slightly at the blood-stained mess on the floor.

  “Be my guest,” Lanis says, gingerly pulling on the Murkata uniform with her bandaged hands. Despite her lingering suspicion and annoyance, she does feel remarkably better.

  “All clear,” the medi-tech says, pulling open the cubicle’s curtain. Booker emerges at the same time from the adjoining cubicle, dressed in a similar dark green Murkata uniform several sizes larger, sporting several new bandages over his left arm and head.

  “Look at us. Fit for round two, I’d say?” he says, flashing a grin.

  “You said you weren’t hurt!” Lanis exclaims, wincing at the way Booker raises his arm and tentatively clenches his left fist.

  “I said it was just a scratch. And it was. But it still feels good to be patched up.”

  “If we’re done here, my superiors are waiting,” the Murkata officer interjects, frowning. He and the medi-tech exchange a nod, and then they’re off, moving quickly through the Murkata city-complex once again.

  “What is this place?” Lanis finally asks as they enter a wide elevator at the end of a long hall. The Murkata officer scans his hand across the inner console and the elevator gives a gentle lurch, beginning a rapid thirty floor descent.

  The Murkata officer hesitates. Likely receiving some clearance from a superior elsewhere to share this information, Lanis thinks.

  “You are in a Murkata-Heinsen research and development complex. Hei-Star One is its name.”

  “Shit," Mirem breathes. "I’ve heard of this place."

  “Yes. Kaisho-Renalis has occasionally attempted penetration,” the officer dryly remarks. He arches a thin eyebrow, looking sidelong at Mirem. “I believe that you’re the first ex-Kaisho to ever be granted entry. And certainly the first to have a hope of leaving alive.”

  Before Mirem can attempt a response, the elevator arrives at its designated floor, its doors hissing open. The officer steps to the side and lowers his head, and arm gestured outward.

  “Please. The Guiding Committee is waiting for you.”

  The elevator has deposited them into a large, gleaming, wood-paneled reception area. It looks remarkably out of place from the industrial hallways that they just left a minute ago: the room is softly lit by globular lights, with an ornate carpet spread across its floor, and two large leather couches sit on either side of the room.

  From the dim shadows across the room, four massive, identical security guards silently step out and approach their little group.

  Lanis barely stops herself from taking a halting step backward. Clones? They must be, Lanis thinks, gazing upward as the first one approaches her. God, he must be seven feet tall, at least.

  The huge guard gives a slow nod to Lanis, and then scans her body with a hand-held device. He checks the device, satisfied, and then moves on to the others with grim efficiency. The enhancements that the identical guards sport could likely only be purpose-grown: their faces and hands are as much metallic as flesh, and every inch of their massive modified bodies looks purpose-built for destruction. Lanis manages to exchange a glance with Booker, who gives an infinitesimal eyebrow raise of professional appreciation. Next to these guards, he’s a schoolboy.

  “Enter,” the first guard rumbles once they’ve all been scanned. “You, pilot, and you,” he says, nodding to Lanis and Ash in turn. “You three stay here,” he adds, speaking to Mirem, Booker, and Sander. He gestures to one of the couches.

  “Wait, why can’t—” Lanis begins, but Mirem shoots her a look of warning.

  “That’s fine. Sander and Booker and I will be waiting here when you’re done. Right?” Mirem says, looking at the guard.

  “Of course you may wait. You are honored guests,” the guard replies, his artificial eyes unblinking. He turns back to Lanis.

  "Now. Come. The Committee awaits."

  Lanis and Ash exchange reassuring nods with the rest of their team, and then move beyond the room’s entry doors, which gently swing shut with a click behind them. The hallway beyond is short, but quietly intimidating in its luxury. They are flanked by dozens of softly-lit oil portraits of stern-looking men and women as they move down the hall, their footsteps silent upon the soft rug beneath their feet. Lanis wonders if Mirem would recognize any of the faces—Murkata CEOs, perhaps? Original founders?

  At the end of the hall waits yet another massively enhanced guard, and another pair of double doors that slowly swing open.

  Raised voices suddenly grow quiet, and chairs whisper back. The members of the Murkata-Heisen Emergency Steering Committee stand to welcome their guests.

  ALSO, I did finally go ahead and set up a and a server if you want to chat or get updates about my projects. Nothing is currently locked behind the paid Patreon tiers, but I did set them up in likely preparation for a different, perhaps more web-novel friendly project (though if anyone wants to donate and see some rough drafts / outlines of the next chapters and/or my next project, go ahead! Just as long as you know that they're quite rough right now).