Chapter 41 - Whatever It Takes

  Boots pounded against the sterile tiles as they raced down the corridors, alarms blaring.

  “The external comms are cut,” Darius said, his breath coming fast as he struggled to keep pace. “No reinforcements, at least not from outside. Whatever happens, it’s just us and whoever’s already here.”

  Ahead of him, Harlan glanced back briefly, his expression unreadable. “Better than I expected. Now keep up.”

  They rounded a corner, the group splintering as they approached a wide junction. The map they’d memorised flashed in Darius’s mind—a split to the left for the archives, straight ahead for the armoury. Harlan raised his hand, pointing Tarek, Corin, and Lena toward the armoury.

  “Stay sharp,” he ordered. “There’ll be more resistance there. Hit hard, move fast. Rendezvous back at the extraction point once you’ve got what we need.”

  Tarek nodded, gripping his weapon tighter. Corin gave a quick thumbs-up while Lena merely adjusted her gear and started forward without a word.

  Darius hesitated, suddenly realising that ‘safety in numbers’ was no longer applicable if they were splitting off, but Harlan’s voice snapped him back to the present. “You’re with me, Kallan. Let’s go.”

  They took the left corridor, heading for the archives. One of, if not the reason that Darius had still been tolerated despite his secrets was that the Freeholders were hoping he would be able to get a lot of information off the secure servers. They hadn’t outright said it, of course, but he knew that if this failed… well, there wouldn’t be much reason to keep him around, now, would there?

  The entrance to the data archives wasn’t far, and consisted of an unassuming door with a sign saying ‘Data Archive – Authorised Personnel Only’ above it.

  Harlan slowed, motioning for Darius to follow his lead. They pressed themselves against the wall on either side of the door. Harlan peered around the edge, his eyes scanning the room beyond through the narrow pane of reinforced glass.

  “It’s small,” Harlan murmured. “Two guards. One civilian, too. They’ll have an access point in the front, but the servers will be in the back. We go in hard and fast—don’t stop moving. Got it?”

  Darius nodded, though his throat felt tight. His fingers flexed against the grip of his pistol as he readied himself, the cool metal grounding him. Harlan didn’t wait for a response. With a sharp motion, he pushed the door open, slipping inside with practised precision.

  The guards inside were alert but not ready – the alarms told them something was going on, but not what, and nobody expected to be attacked in a place usually considered safe. Still, their reactions were commendable.

  “Contact!” one barked, raising his weapon. “Identify—”

  The man was cut off as Harlan moved first, dropping to one knee and plugging two shots into his chest. He crumpled against the wall, his weapon clattering to the floor. The second guard returned fire, the sharp report of his rifle tearing through the air. Darius flinched as sparks erupted from the wall near his head.

  His hands tightened around his pistol, the cold metal digging into his palms. His mind screamed at him to move, to fire, to do something, but his body felt rooted in place. The only other time he’d been shot at was when they were being chased by the patrol vehicles weeks ago, and he hadn’t even been able to see the people shooting at him in the chaos. It had felt… distant. Unreal.

  This was very different.

  “Shoot, dammit!” Harlan barked, his voice harsh over the gunfire. “Cover me!”

  Darius raised his gun, firing wildly in the general direction of the guard. None of his bullets connected, but the threat was enough to have the guard diving behind the large counter that served as a reception area.

  Harlan seized the opportunity, surging forward with practised precision. His movements were smooth and economical, the product of countless such engagements. As the guard reappeared from behind cover, Harlan fired twice more, the first round catching the man in the shoulder, the second dropping him with a dull thud against the wall.

  The guard’s weapon discharged as he fell, and there was a cry of pain from where the civilian was hiding. Harlan cursed, vaulting over the counter and looking down at the cowering office worker there. A moment later, he sighed and lowered his weapon, looking tired.

  Darius’s stomach twisted at the sight, bile rising in his throat. “Was that—is he—did you mean to—?”

  Harlan shot him a look. “No, of course I didn’t mean to,” he snapped, clenching a fist. “but accidents happen when bullets start flying.” He looked away, running a hand down his face and grimacing. “Only thing we can do now is make this worth it. Get over here and plug in.”

  Darius fought down the urge to say that no matter what they did, the poor civilian probably wouldn’t think it was worth it. He was distracted by the sight of blood seeping from a tear in Harlan’s jacket near his shoulder, staining the fabric a dark red. He shifted his weight slightly, wincing. “Damn,” the older man muttered, pulling the fabric aside to inspect the wound. “Just a graze. Nothing serious.”

  Darius stared at the blood, his brain struggling to catch up. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been shot before,” Harlan replied dismissively, already pulling a strip of cloth from a pouch to wrap the injury. “Won’t be the last time, either. Just another scar.” His tone was more irritated than concerned. “Blood might be traceable, though. Remind me to burn this jacket later.”

  Darius nodded numbly, his focus returning reluctantly to the task at hand. The servers. He stepped over to the access terminal, fumbling slightly as he pulled out his bypass kit. The screen blinked to life as he plugged it in, lines of code scrolling rapidly. The sound of the alarms outside and the tang of copper in the air made it hard to concentrate, but he forced himself to work.

  “Echo, you’re up,” he muttered, slumping back into the chair and avoiding looking at the bodies on the floor. Behind him, Harlan kept watch near the door, his weapon at the ready. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the servers and the tap of Darius’s fingers on the terminal.

  The door to the archive slammed open.

  Darius spun, his heart lurching as another guard stormed in, weapon raised. The man hesitated, his eyes darting between the fallen bodies and the two intruders.

  Harlan didn’t give him time to act. His rifle barked once, a single round striking the guard cleanly in the chest. The man dropped, his weapon clattering to the floor.

  For a moment, the room was still, the acrid tang of gunpowder thick in the air.

  “Keep working,” Harlan said, his tone flat, as if the shooting hadn’t happened at all.

  Darius swallowed, almost wishing it was his job to hack into the archives. At least it would give him something to do. “Any updates, Echo?” he asked aloud instead.

  There was a long beat of silence, long enough that Darius thought Echo was just ignoring him.

  {Encryption is significantly stronger than expected,} the AI’s voice finally crackled through his augs. {I am attempting to pace myself so that I don’t boil your brain in your skull.}

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The words took a moment to sink in, but when they did Darius’s eyes widened dramatically. As if on cue, a droplet of sweat ran down his brow. He hadn’t noticed before – or maybe just chalked it up to the exertion – but he was almost dripping with sweat, and now that his attention had been drawn to it, there was a burgeoning headache making itself known.

  He opened his mouth to complain, or question, or something, but stopped himself before he could. If Echo was struggling that badly and had taken so long to respond, maybe he didn’t need the distraction. With a grimace, he closed his mouth and grit his teeth against the ever-mounting headache.

  The heat kept building, and now there was a growing sense of… pressure, almost, behind his eyes. He closed them, taking shallow breaths as he tried to push through the discomfort. Then, just as he felt he couldn’t take another second of the pressure, the bypass kit emitted a sharp chime. The screen flashed green.

  {Access achieved,} Echo reported, almost immediately. {Encryption breached. Uploading data. You should start to feel better shortly.}

  As promised, the headache ebbed almost immediately, leaving behind the sticky exhaustion of a body under too much strain. Darius exhaled, relief flooding his chest. “We’re in,” he called over his shoulder.

  Harlan was at his side in seconds, the tension in his frame visible but tempered with a flicker of satisfaction. “Good. First things first—targeted information.” His voice shifted into the clipped cadence of someone used to giving orders. “Look for intel on Imperial patrol routes in the sector, active suppression tactics, and any surveillance data they’ve been gathering on Freeholder movements.”

  Darius relayed the instructions to Echo, watching as lines of code spilled across the bypass kit’s display. The kit’s small storage drive blinked, steadily filling as Echo pulled the requested files from the archive.

  “Got it,” Darius said, his voice steadier now. “What’s next?”

  Harlan’s eyes narrowed, his mind clearly racing. He seemed surprised that they had gotten even this much, but he clearly wasn’t one to let an opportunity slip away.

  “Security protocols for the garrison. Anything about drone activity, access points, or supply routes. If they’ve got anything on their chain of command, take that too.”

  Darius nodded, his fingers flying across the terminal’s interface to prioritise the new requests. The drive’s capacity ticked upward with each passing second, filling steadily as Echo worked through the system. The hum of the servers filled the room, a constant backdrop to the tension lingering in the air.

  “Storage is nearly full,” Darius murmured after a few minutes. “Anything else?”

  Harlan was almost visibly smiling by this point. Clearly, things were going far better than he’d hoped for. Darius found it a little unnerving, to be honest.

  “Now? Take everything. Max out the kit. The more we get, the better.”

  Darius didn’t need to ask twice. Echo began a full-system sweep, dumping everything it could find into the bypass kit. The progress bar surged forward, the drive pushing its limits as it absorbed every scrap of data available.

  Finally, the kit emitted another soft chime, its screen displaying a simple message: Storage Full.

  Darius disconnected the kit, slipping it into the pouch on his belt. “We’re done,” he said, the words carrying a weight of finality.

  Harlan clapped him on the shoulder, his expression a rare mix of relief and excitement. “Good work. This alone makes the whole operation worth it.” For a moment, the older man allowed himself a brief pause, the sharp edges of his demeanour softening as he leaned against the desk. “No rest for the wicked, though,” he said a moment later, straightening. “Let’s go.”

  Darius followed Harlan out of the server room, his legs still shaky but his mind steadier now that their primary objective was complete. As they moved through the dimly lit corridors, the alarms continued their unrelenting wail, a constant reminder of the danger still lurking around every corner.

  Darius figured they would be moving faster, but then again, maybe it was better to be cautious. The odds of running into an ambush or a squad of enforcers were getting higher by the minute.

  “Once we clear the armoury,” Harlan said, his voice low but steady, “we’ll have the weapons and equipment we need to hit the drones. That means we’ll get you those cores you need for the AI.”

  Darius spared him a look. “So you believe me, now?” he asked.

  “Hard not to,” Harlan admitted. “I’m no hacker myself, but I know enough to realise you were basically just sitting there doing nothing while hacking into the archives. Don’t think a VI could manage that without external inputs.”

  Despite the situation, Darius huffed a laugh at the description of his actions. It wasn’t terribly funny, but then his laugh was probably a little more manic than usual. He cut himself off a moment later as the echoing retort of a gunshot sounded through the corridors. Harlan didn’t bother saying anything, just immediately abandoned caution in favour of speed. Darius, caught by surprise, hurried to catch up.

  The sound of gunfire grew louder as they approached the armoury. The sharp retorts of rifles echoed through the corridors, each shot cutting through the din of alarms. They rounded the final corner to find the situation laid bare. Several enforcers were stationed down the corridor, taking cover behind overturned desks and scattered debris. The armoury door stood ajar, and inside, Lena, Corin, and Tarek were pinned down, firing sporadically at their attackers.

  Lena’s rifle cracked, forcing one enforcer to duck behind a support column. Corin shouted something Darius couldn’t hear, his voice lost in the chaos, while Tarek leaned out just far enough to fire a quick burst, his rounds sparking off the enforcers’ cover.

  “Damn it,” Harlan growled under his breath, assessing the scene. Without hesitating, he raised his rifle and fired, the shots sharp and precise. One enforcer dropped, clutching his side as he fell. Another turned toward the new threat, raising his weapon, but Harlan fired again, catching him in the shoulder and sending him sprawling.

  Before Harlan could line up another shot, his rifle jammed. The dull click of the misfire was audible even over the gunfire. Harlan swore once, loudly, but didn’t hesitate, throwing his now non-functional rifle like a club. The heavy weapon struck one of the enforcers in the chest, sending him reeling.

  Instead of ducking for cover like Darius expected, Harlan hurled himself towards the enforcers with a yell, seemingly doing everything he could to make himself more of a target. Darius was all but frozen again, the scene before him a blur of noise and violence.

  And then, suddenly, he wasn’t.

  It wasn’t that things were moving slower – they weren’t. It wasn’t that he was moving faster, either. It was just… simple. Suddenly, the chaos, the violence, the noise, was all just… irrelevant. It was happening, and he could see it, but it didn’t affect him.

  His hand moved smoothly to the grip of his pistol, and he raised it in a single motion. There was no hesitation, no doubt, just action. His breathing was steady, his hands weren’t trembling, and though he could still feel the fear, it was like…

  It was like he was watching what was happening on TV. There was a disconnect.

  His first shot hit one enforcer squarely in the chest, his weapon dropping from his hands as he collapsed. He was already moving to line up his sights with the next enforcer, somehow utterly certain that the shot would hit.

  The second enforcer saw his movement and started bringing the muzzle of his weapon around from where it was aimed at Harlan, still mid-lunge. Darius fired first. The round struck the man just below the collarbone, and he crumpled to the ground, motionless.

  The corridor fell silent, save for the distant wail of alarms and the faint hum of blood rushing in Darius’s ears.

  Harlan, halfway to the enforcers when Darius had fired, slowed to a halt, turning to look at him. “That was… impressive shooting,” he said slowly, almost cautiously.

  Darius lowered the pistol, staring at the bodies on the floor. His voice was quiet, almost detached. “I… I have no idea how I did that.”

  Before Harlan could respond, Echo’s voice crackled through Darius’s augs. {Your stress response was beginning to overwhelm you,} the AI explained calmly. {I was able to manage it, reducing the negative effects of adrenaline on your body and slightly enhancing your cognitive processing speed.}

  Somewhat distantly, Darius noted that the words should have freaked him out – it was all of his worst nightmares about the AI taking over his body – but he just… couldn’t bring himself to care. More interference from the machine, or just good, old-fashioned shock? He didn’t know.

  Darius blinked, the words registering but feeling distant, almost unreal. “Uh… thanks, Echo,” he muttered, his voice hollow.

  Then the reality of what he’d just done hit him like a freight train. His stomach twisted violently, and before he could stop himself, he doubled over and vomited onto the floor. His hands braced against his knees as he retched, the acrid taste of bile burning his throat.

  Harlan stepped closer, his tone shifting to something that might have been concern if it weren’t so gruff. “You okay, Kallan?”

  Darius straightened slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His face was pale, his breaths shallow. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t.

  Harlan seemed to pick up on this. “It’s…” he trailed off for a moment before starting again. “It’s not healthy, but right now is the wrong time to dwell on this,” he said, almost gently. “We have work to do. We can handle getting the weapons and gear packed up; you start looking at those drones of yours.”

  Darius blinked, raising a hand to wipe at his face again before realising it was the hand still holding his pistol. He looked at it blankly for a long moment before slowly tucking it back into its holster on his waist.

  “Sure,” he said in belated response to Harlan’s instructions.

  The Freeholders inside the armoury had already started securing the room, dragging crates of weapons and gear toward the door. Surprisingly, Tarek gave Darius a quick nod, though his expression was tight. If Darius hadn’t already been in shock, that alone would have probably done the trick.

  The random thought distracted him enough for him to take in his surroundings a little more, picking out the drones sitting on quick-launch racks at the back of the armoury. The racks were designed to protrude outside the building, but still be accessible from the inside for maintenance.

  With only a little hesitation, Darius walked over to them, taking a small amount of comfort in the familiar act of eyeing up the machines and planning on how best to dismantle them.

  Trying to ignore the thought of the cooling bodies outside the room.

  Like Harlan had said earlier – the only thing he could do now was make it worth something.