I drifted in and out of consciousness, caught somewhere between sleep and something else.
Nothing stayed still for long. Faces flickered in and out of view, overlapping, dissolving into one another. Lydia. Mous. Caitlin. Jen. Bran. Even a few I couldn't quite place. Their features warped at the edges, like reflections on disturbed water.
Voices bled together too. None of them clear enough to follow. But the emotions came through perfectly. Worry. Frustration. Fear. It pressed in from all sides, raw and unfiltered, like I was submerged in it. Whatever was happening around me, it wasn't good. The people around me, my people, were struggling. I felt it all.
And yet, somehow, I remained unaffected.
There was a strange separation between me and everything. Like I was observing it from just beyond reach. Something filled the space. A feeling I couldn't quite describe.
I was finally at the fourth tier.
The first real threshold. The line that separated the best of Class 1 from the scrubs. I could feel it in the way my thoughts moved. Cleaner. Faster. More precise. Like the clutter had been stripped away, leaving only what mattered.
Combat made sense now. Not in the way it used to. Everything had a place. A flow. A structure I could read and bend at will. I tried to recall how I used to fight. The memory felt… distant. Blunt. Like trying to remember how it felt to think as a child. Clumsy and inefficient. Almost embarrassing.
Did other fighters also get this sort of high when they advanced? All of the joy I felt and I was only at tier four. I could only imagine the feeling I would get at Six or Eight, maybe even Ten, if I was ever so fortunate.
A bubbling satisfaction spread through me, deeper than anything I'd felt in a long time. There was more. So much more.
And I wanted all of it. I wasn't stopping here. Not a chance.
The feeling of improvement, it provided a rush that was addictive in a way I hadn't expected. Winning was one thing. That had always felt good. But this? This was something else entirely.
This was evolution.
I came back to myself slowly.
The haze thinned. The noise sharpened. The world stopped slipping.
My eyes opened. Light flooded in immediately, forcing a slow blink. The ceiling above me swam slightly before settling into place. I was lying flat against something soft. Too soft to be the floor.
For a second, I didn't move. I couldn't quite remember how. Then sensation crept back into my limbs. A dull heaviness at first. Then pins and needles. Then pain. Everywhere. I exhaled quietly and forced myself upright.
It wasn't graceful. My muscles protested immediately, weakness dragging at every movement. It felt like I was pulling myself up through water. Still, I managed to push myself back until I was sitting against a wall.
"He's awake!"
Lydia's voice. Movement followed. Quick footsteps. Someone approaching fast.
I turned slightly, my vision still adjusting, and caught sight of Caitlin moving toward me. Her ponytail swung behind her as she jogged over. My surroundings came into focus a second later.
Supply cabinets to my right. Staff clustered together in tight groups across the space. Some of them were already turning toward me, their expressions shifting as they noticed.
I was in the back room.
They went out to get me. They didn't wait for the signal.
A hand landed on my shoulder. I turned.
Lydia stood over me, steady now. A lot steadier than the last time I'd seen her. The smile on her face came easily but her eyes didn't match it. They were tired, worn.
Yeah… that made sense. It felt like we'd been stuck in this place for days. One thing after another, no real break in between.
"Welcome back, sir," she said, giving my shoulder a firm squeeze. "Enjoy your little beauty nap?"
I laughed under my breath. "I did, actually. Highly recommend it."
Caitlin reached us and dropped into a kneel beside me. "Are you alright?"
"More or less," I groaned. "I'll live. Where's—"
"What's good, Cap?"
I turned my head toward the voice so fast, my neck creaked. Didn't care.
Mous was there. She was lying a few feet to my left. Bruised didn't even begin to cover it. Her face was swollen and discolored in places. But she was awake. That was enough.
"What are you doing, lazing over there?" I joked. "You better get off your ass or I might just write you up for negligence of duty."
She coughed weakly, grimacing.
"Count yourself lucky," she muttered. "I would slap the hell out of you if I could move my arms. Or legs."
"Yeah," I winced. "She really did a number on you, didn't she?"
"You don't look so perky yourself."
"Touché" I said, leaning back slightly. "But you should see the other guys."
"Nice work with that, by the way." Lydia said, grinning. Then her expression suddenly changed, becoming much more serious. "Captain, there's–"
A sudden wave of pain cut through me. I raised a hand to my head, pressing my fingers against my temple as the room tilted slightly.
"How long was I out?" I asked.
She exchanged a glance with Caitlin. I frowned. That couldn't be good.
"About forty-five minutes. Give or take."
"Okay," I said slowly. "So what's going on?"
Lydia didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hand and pointed upward. "I think it's better if you see for yourself."
I followed her gesture, squinting slightly as I looked toward the ceiling. At first, I didn't understand what she meant. The glare from above made it hard to focus. Then it clicked.
The lights. They were on.
"Could someone explain just what is going on here?"
Lydia responded almost instantly. "I wish I could. A few minutes after we brought you in, the lights just… came back on."
I glanced up at the ceiling again. "But how? Was it a GRE?"
"That was my first thought," she said, running a hand through her hair. "I thought maybe the perps brought one with them. But it wasn't that. Our devices are still down."
She looked at Caitlin. "That left only one option. So I asked Ms. Vance. She refused to say anything. Said she'd only talk to you."
Lydia wasn't wrong. If this wasn't a GRE workaround, then there was only one alternative. And it wasn't something you just stumbled across. If that really was the case, then Caitlin had a lot of explaining to do.
I turned to her. "Well? Let's hear it."
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Her hands came together, fingers fidgeting in small, restless motions. It looked like she was weighing something.
I cleared my throat.
Her head lifted. There was sweat along her hairline now. I could sense it. Her guilt.
"On the lowest level," she began slowly, "just outside the main control room… we have an auxiliary power source. But it's–"
She hesitated. My patience thinned. "But what?"
Her shoulders sank a fraction, like something in her finally gave way.
"But it's not a standard reactor," she said. "It's a hardened core."
Lydia's eyes met mine. No confusion there. We both knew exactly what that meant. I was already lining up my next question when Mous spoke from across the room.
"Hardened core?" she rasped. "What the hell is that?"
I didn't look at her. My gaze remained on Caitlin. "A hardened core reactor is the only known type of reactor— no, power source—that can ignore the effects of a grid killer.
Mous let out a short, incredulous breath. "That's not possible."
She shifted slightly, wincing as she did. I could feel her attention flicking between me and Lydia now, picking up on the tension neither of us was bothering to hide.
"So what's the problem?" she asked.
"The problem," I said, "is that it's restricted technology."
That got everyone's attention.
"A full ban," I continued. "Production, distribution, private ownership. Everything. There aren't more than a hundred units in existence. Most of them are either locked down or tracked by the Intelligence division."
Caitlin's gaze dropped again. I kept going. "Which means that having one in this building isn't just unusual. It's illegal. And not the kind of crime you can just pay a simple fine for."
A quiet unease spread through the room. A few of the employees exchanged looks.
"Ms. Vance," I said, my voice leveling out. "Explain how something like that ends up here."
She drew in a slow breath, then let it out through her nose. When she looked back at me this time, the hesitation was gone. Whatever internal line she'd been balancing on, she'd stepped over it.
"Legally, I can't disclose this," she said. "But given the circumstances…" She paused, then continued. "Dutton Mullark is a covert subsidiary. We are fully funded by our parent company. They were the ones who gave us the reactor."
Lydia folded her arms. "And this company is?"
"Empire Industries. More specifically, Empire Biotech."
I tipped my head back for a second, staring up at the ceiling lights again. It figured.
That explained the infrastructure. The equipment. The level of security. Dutton Mulark wasn't just some isolated research outfit. It was backed by one of the most powerful corporations on Ganymede. Empire didn't do small. I should know. Mom worked there for a while before she quit abruptly. I never found out the reason.
I brought my focus back to the present.
"Empire's energy division developed the hardened core," I said, mostly to Lydia and Mous. "Compact, high-density output, fully insulated from grid suppression."
"And banned," Lydia added.
"Hard," I confirmed.
There had been a fight over it. Not a quiet one either. The Marshals had pushed back the moment the tech surfaced. It was too disruptive. Too dangerous in the wrong hands. If something could ignore a grid killer, it could interfere with a lot of the containment protocols we had. In the end, the ruling had been clear. Production halted. Distribution outlawed. Existing units cataloged, seized, or monitored.
And yet, here we were.
"Some units slipped through," I continued. "Black market, private holdings, corporate retention. A few were never recovered."
"And one of them is sitting under this building," Lydia muttered.
I looked around the room again, letting it sink in for everyone else.
"That means this place isn't just compromised," I said. "It's involved in more dangerous matters than we anticipated. Anyone tied to it, knowingly or not, is standing on very thin ice right now."
No one spoke.
Lydia broke the silence first. "So what exactly are you people doing here that requires these kind of setups?"
Caitlin shook her head. "I don't have clearance for that level of detail."
"Convenient," Lydia said.
"It's the truth," she replied. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "If I had to guess… it's tied to the pharmacology division."
I nodded. That much was clear. The order, the pharmacology department and Rox. They were all connected somehow. I just didn't know how yet.
But I knew the next step.
"Ms. Vance," I said, shifting my weight as I pushed myself upright. My body protested immediately, but I ignored it. "The desk in your director's office, it's tied into the internal grid, right?"
"Yes," she said.
Lydia moved in without a word, slipping under my arm to steady me as I stood. I let her. No point pretending I didn't need the support.
"And access to emergency services?" I continued. "Even without having to input credentials?"
Caitlin blinked, the realization catching up to her. "…Yes," she said slowly. "Now that you mention it, it does."
I adjusted my grip on Lydia's shoulder and took a breath. "Great, let's go. I need to make a call."
The office floor was stained dark with drying blood, a not so subtle reminder of everything that had just happened.
The bodies of Derek and his partner were gone. But they weren't far. The faint, sour smell drifting in from the hallway told me exactly where they'd been dragged.
Caitlin and Lydia helped me walk, each taking a side as I limped toward the desk. Mous had objected the moment I tried to move. Loudly. Her concern wasn't necessary. The painkillers had finally kicked in. I couldn't feel much of anything.
Lydia had handled my treatment in Mous' place. Whatever cocktail she pumped into me had done its job a little too well. Beneath the numbness, I knew there had to be torn muscle, deep bruising, maybe worse. Judging by how light I felt, she'd gone well past recommended doses.
I didn't complain.
Caitlin waved a few staff members toward the door, stationing them outside before stepping forward and wiping blood off the desk with her sleeve. I wasn't worried about another attack. From the way Derek and his partner had talked and carried themselves, I could tell they were supposed to be the closers. A hand only played with the intention of flipping the game.
And now they were dead. Which meant the remaining three wouldn't rush in blindly. Not yet.
Lydia helped me sit on the edge of the desk. Caitlin tapped a control along its side, and a hologram appeared above it. A cat's head.
Lydia glanced at me, then back at the floating projection.
"Well….that's a choice." she said grinning.
Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Not mine. Believe me."
The cat blinked once, then spoke in a neutral tone. "What would you like me to do for you Ms. Vance?"
"Place a distress call to the Marshals."
The cat dissolved into a shifting spectrogram as the system initiated the connection. The response came instantly.
"Marshal services, what's your emergency?"
I lifted a hand slightly, signaling Caitlin to stay quiet. "This is Captain Aldrich. Badge number 154-1. Patch me through to Officer Kaldwell immediately. Badge number 154-2."
"154-1, stand by for verification."
I gestured toward the door.
"Out," I said quietly.
There was some hesitation—Caitlin lingering, uncertain—but she eventually turned and ushered the others into the corridor.
Lydia didn't move. I shot her a look. She ignored it. I nudged her shin with my foot. Nothing. I shook my head and gave up. Whatever this turned into, I'd just have to live with it
"Verification check: slot three."
Three. Great, just great.
I closed my eyes briefly. "Category: second name, Answer: Czeslaw."
Lydia broke immediately. She clamped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she bent slightly, trying and failing, to contain her laughter. I turned my head away.
"Verified."
"154-2, I have 154-1 on priority. Stand by to receive."
A familiar voice cut in. "Go ahead."
"Officer Aldrich, you're through."
Kate didn't wait for me to start. "Stretch! What's going on? How are you making this call?"
Before I could answer, Bran crashed in. "Stretch? Did you just say Stretch? Put me through."
More muffled noise followed. Bran relayed the message.
"Jen and Cuiran said they want in."
Kate replied in exasperation. "Alright, damn. He hasn't even spoken yet."
A series of clicks. The line expanded.
"Stretch," Jen said. "Are you alright? What's happening in there?"
"I'm alright. Things are–"
"I'm fine too," Lydia interrupted. "Thanks for asking."
"Lydia?" Cuiran sounded surprised. "So everything's good? Where's Mous?"
Lydia opened her mouth. I reached over and pinched her lips shut. She glared at me. I ignored it.
"Mous is fine, she's just resting now. We're all fine as well. More importantly, what's going on out there?"
Kate spoke. "It's only getting worse. We have civilians lining up just outside the blockade. Mostly workers angry that we cleared out their offices. This whole thing is now officially a big deal."
"The cutter's still not here," Bran chirped in. "And we've made zero progress breaching the building."
"So no good news?" I rubbed my forehead.
"No," Jen said quietly. "No good news."
Silence settled briefly.
Then:
"But how are you even calling?" she asked. "Didn't you deploy the grid killer?"
"Yeah we did."
I exhaled. "I'm going to explain everything that's happened so far. From the beginning. No interruptions. Understood?"
Cuiran answered for them. "We're all ears, Cap."