ARC10

Chapter 20.3

There's nothing I can do but return to work. I want to yell into the darkness of the early-morning Rotunda. Wherever you are, Simon Lorn, I want to scream, pull your shit together. I've worked too hard to let this be for nothing.

At 0559, I'm fuming, buzzing off nerve endings that fizzle in abrasive energy. I'm standing straight as a racked rifle, waiting for my twenty new operators to arrive.

I hear them shouting, stampeding toward me with thunderous clamor from their heavy footfalls against steel floors. Level 1 quakes with their approach. They crash through the halls—a brawny group of men and women with strapping physiques and flippant airs. They grab at each other, charging like gathering storms ripping at fields.

I let my anger at Simon arm me with my newest weapon. I'll use this pent up animosity to whip them in line.

They halt before me making two lines so sharp, I could cut flesh with them.

As impressed as I am, I still need to demonstrate who's in charge.

"As of last night, the rest of the URE was briefed on Operation Homecoming." I dare any of them to show signs of heavy breathing. None do. "Which means the world is about to blow out a shitstorm. It's our job to make sure when the civs start losing their goddamn minds aboard ARC10, we're there to shut it down A-S-A-fucking-P."

They don't even breathe out of sync.

"Our mission is to get two thousand civilians safely to NOHA. On my ship, you will see militia presence, but you will answer directly to me. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Because you're stuck with me, you'd better start sharpening your asses now if you're going to make it through the next five years on ARC10." I stare into their hardened faces.

I thought this would be cathartic. Not even close.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Laps. Now."

"Aye-Aye!"

Level 1 facilities are littered with militiamen and VIPERs. As of now, there is nothing to distinguish one from the other except my memory.

As I observe them, I perceive the unexpected presence of Kai at my shoulder.

"Commander Lorn," he nods.

The new title is weird in my ears.

"Commander Kamalani."

Kai inches closer.

We say nothing to each other but observe our operators fly around the track like idle birds of prey.

"These kids, they've got so much to learn. Were we ever this young?" This is what I would have said if this were Dean. But it's not. My rancor grows again.

"Kids? These aren't kids, Lorn."

One of my own, Levi McCroy, a bulky boy of twenty with bulging arms, catches my gaze. I lower my lids to glare. The kid shakes his mop of brown hair out of his eyes and runs faster.

I see Kai's point.

"Besides—" Kai slides close. "I'm basically the same age as most of them. I bet if you let me, I could teach you a thing or two."

I scoff as the memories of his hands resurface of their own volition, blasting away some of the rigidity in my stance. "You've yet to make it beyond the first button of my pants."

He barks out a chorus of laughs. The moment melts into normalcy.

Kai opens his mouth to respond when I sense something strange—something akin to a soft rupture below me, like a stray charge of electricity found its way to my feet.