Arkhor Special Forces provided top-of-the-line equipment, but Erenn couldn't connect to a single one of the scanners they'd placed in the ruins when they'd first been assigned to Cepi.

“Jamming us. Well, not us specifically. My guess is they have a top-end general jammer. Something cutting edge.” Erenn closed down her equipment in disgust.

“So high-end space pirates or smugglers.” The way they'd come in, shut the site down with minimum casualties, minimum effort, Mak had thought high-end pro from the start. “Everyone we've seen involved in the takeover so far is Verdant String.”

“Might be misdirection.” Goojie helped Erenn move her equipment up against the wall, out of the way. “But it makes sense to look close to home first.”

“It might be one of the Breakaways,” Fren said. “Could be they're a for-profit operation.”

“There are only two Breakaways, though.” Vasouvy was pacing the small space. “And while they may be all about profit, the Breakaway planets aren't at Verdant String level of tech, not by a long way.”

“Not overall, they're not. But a few elites at the very top might have the capacity. That's why they broke away, remember, because they don't like the egalitarian ways of the Verdant String. They want to be able to accumulate as much wealth as they can.” Fren leaned back against the wall, ankles and arms crossed.

“Then we have to ask what someone would gain from taking over Cepi before it's destroyed. We know their crew is slick and smart. Using the Halatians is a stroke of genius, but it also tells us something.” Mak lowered himself to the floor of their tiny cave, stretched his legs out in front of him.

“What does it tell us?” Yari joined him, leaning back against the rock.

“That whatever they want to do here, they need time and space to do it. This isn't a fast and dirty mission, they need breathing room, that's why they're using the Halatians as hostages. So they'll be left alone for at least a while.”

“Good point.” Vasouvy was thoughtful. “But then it begs the question, is it just luck that the Halatians are here?”

“Vice-admiral Sinjin and I wondered the same.” Mak stretched his neck from side to side, loosening stiff muscles.

“You think the Halatians are in on it? They're kids, aren't they?” Fren sounded shocked.

Mak shook his head. “No. But I think someone made sure they were invited up here and convinced them to come. And I'd like to know who that was.”

“An inside job?” Goojie lifted bushy brows.

“Got to be. And not just here on Cepi. Someone on Arkhor, too.”

Vasouvy made a strangled sound. “One of ours?”

“They used an Arkhor ship to come in, and you can't tell me someone on Arkhor didn't have to approve Dr. Bartali's visit with those girls so close to Cepi being destroyed.”

His team were silent as they absorbed that.

“If we're asking this, someone else higher up will ask it, too. Surely anyone who's involved would know they'd be caught?” Erenn slid down the rock wall and rested her head on her knees.

“Maybe they think they're too clever. Or maybe they've been offered massive wealth on a Breakaway and are about to disappear.” Mak let that sink in, too.

Then he pulled himself to his feet. “All right, we need to know what's going on in those ruins. If they've set up a jammer that blocks scanner feed, then we'll have to see for ourselves.” He picked up his pack. “Vasouvy, Yari and I will find a way in, and Fren, Goojie and Erenn, you set up at equidistant points just outside the perimeter of the ruins. Erenn, you get the job of relaying our reports to Vice-admiral Sinjin.”

They nodded agreement and packed up, pulling on their helmets and leaving the heavier equipment in the cave.

Mak took the lead, slipping through the shadows the strange, reflected light that Burno, Kalastoni's largest moon, cast over the terrain, his uniform set to high reflection mode again.

He would be almost impossible to spot with the naked eye, and heat sensors would also struggle to pick him up.

They reached the closest wall that surrounded the ruin.

If it was a wall at all.

There was a huge gap between it and the other two tall, curved structures that encircled the central building, so it couldn't have been built to keep anyone in or out.

Erenn, Goojie and Fren split off from the back. They'd work their way around to find posts from which they could watch for movement and hold themselves ready in case Mak or his team needed help.

Mak kept moving forward, scanning for any sign of life.

The ground between the wall-like structure and the main building was open and exposed.

He was betting on the hostage-takers having a small, tight crew, with not a lot of spare eyes to watch for infiltration. The pick-up they'd hijacked was small, and there could only be so many of them. They'd have hostages to watch, some would be ferrying the hostages they were giving up to the cordon authorities, and others would surely be doing whatever it was they had come here to do.

He and his team should be safe.

Time seemed to stretch with every breath, every step, and then his hand touched the wall, and he was pressed up against it, waiting for Vasouvy and Yari.

They hit the wall seconds after him, and then followed as he slid along it and then stopped when he came to the first entrance to the building.

He took a moment to appreciate that there wasn't a single door in the ruins. It made getting in a lot easier.

He crouched, extended his arm, palm out, and curved it around the doorway, using his glove as a mirror. He transmitted the reflection mode image to the inside of his visor.

They were clear.

He carefully stepped in, still in a low crouch.

“Hello, Mak. Are you there?” The whisper in his ear, low and urgent, forced him to put a hand out on the ground to steady himself.

Vasouvy touched his arm in query.

“Bartali just made contact,” he whispered. He switched on the comm set. “I'm here.”

He thought she sighed with relief. Would she do that if she was being coerced to speak to him?

“I was worried they'd herded you up with the others.” Her voice was down to a whisper.

He frowned for a moment, then remembered he'd told her he was part of the security team. She'd probably been wondering which of the hostages was him.

“You didn't ask after me, did you?”

“No.” She breathed it out, almost inaudible, and he felt a frisson of . . . something shoot through him.

He forced himself to focus on his surroundings. “Dr. Bartali, can you hold on a few minutes?”

“Nyha,” she said. “My name is Nyha, and yes.”

He switched the comm to silent. He sensed rather than saw that Yari and Vasouvy were crouched beside him.

“You think she's been compromised?” Yari asked.

“No. I think she's trying to keep her conversation as quiet as she can. Yari, I want you to find a way to see the docking bay, let us all know what's happening there. Vasouvy, go up to the comm station, see if Catano left us any clues, and when you're done, find where they've set up their command center.”

“What are you going to do?” Yari stood--Mak couldn't see him, but he sensed the movement.

“I'm going to find one of the hostage-takers to follow and work out what they're up to. And we're all going to look for where they've put the hostages.” He stood himself, and waited for the other two to head out before he touched his comm set again. “I'm back. Can you talk?”

There was nothing but silence.

“Nyha?” He moved forward as he spoke, orienting himself.

The whole team had been inside the ruins a few times since they'd first arrived, using it as infiltration practice. The rules were they couldn't get caught, and they had to leave a message for Catano.

Everyone had managed it twice without being noticed, and Mak was glad of it now. They had a good working knowledge of the building.

“Nyha, can you hear me?”

Still nothing.

Mak tried to picture what she looked like. His impression had been that she was slim and short, with blue hair pulled back off her face. He'd been with Erenn in their bunker watching the scanners when she'd arrived for her visit, but he'd been more interested in how the security crew had done their job than in the Halatians at the time. Now he wished he'd paid more attention to her.

He came to the open, central area with its constantly moving spiral that rose up through the full height of the building. It presented him with numerous choices on where to go.

Yari would have gone left, toward the launch bay, and Vasouvy would have headed up to Catano's comm room, so Mak went right, keeping close to the walls.

He heard the footsteps ringing on the strange black stone of the floor long before the hostage-takers turned the corner and made their way past him.

He'd stepped into the shadow thrown by a strange, sharply angled wall which jutted out into the wide passage, and knew he was completely invisible.

There were two guards in the lead, then Nyha and her girls in a tight bunch in the middle, and then two guards behind. They were all armed with laz guns, which were illegal for anyone not in the military. They still wore the dark blue uniforms of the Arkhor flight crew, but over it they wore utility belts with restraints hanging from them, and personal breathers.

The breathers gave him pause.

Was it just a precaution, or did they plan to do something to the atmosphere?

He and his team had their helmets on for full reflective mode invisibility, and they would be fine if something went wrong, but Nyha and her girls, and the other hostages still waiting at the docking bay, would be dead in minutes.

He took a moment to focus on the Halatians. His first proper look at them.

Nyha's rich blue hair was down, and it flowed over her back to just below her shoulder blades. She looked younger than he'd expected; delicate and with a haunting beauty that he associated with magical tales and legends. All golden skin and dark, serious eyes.

She also looked deeply angry.

The girls were calmer than he'd thought they'd be, and also, achingly young. They were a tight unit, holding on to each other as they walked, but in a way that spoke of shared strength, not abject fear.

“In there.”

The front two guards, a man and a woman, stopped outside the entrance to a room, and the man pointed inside.

Nyha and the girls edged past them and went inside, and the man pointed a finger at the two guards behind them.

“Keep watch. Don't touch them or talk to them. Understand?”

Mak frowned at the warning, particularly as it seemed focused on the younger of the two men.

Neither of them acknowledged the order.

“I won't be so forgiving the second time around, Hamand, so don't mess up.” The burly man jabbed his finger directly at the guard, a snarl in his voice, then turned to the other one. “Baint, I'll hold you just as responsible if he does anything stupid.”

The pair gave a reluctant nod.

The woman with the man giving orders muttered something to him under her breath as they walked off, and the younger guard made a face at their backs as they turned a corner and disappeared.

Interesting.

And worrying.

Mak didn't want to leave Nyha and her girls with the guards when even their own people suspected them of being dangerous, but hopefully the warning would hold them for now, and the two clearly senior members of the team weren't going back the way they'd come, but were headed deeper into the building.

He had to follow them.

Mak ghosted past the doorway, looking in as he went by, and saw it was a reasonable-sized room and the girls were huddled in the far corner, with Nyha between them and the guards.

Her cheek looked bruised, and he shot a sharp look at the guard the older, bigger man had called Hamand. Had he hit her?

He memorized the man's face, then forced himself to speed up a little to keep up with the two guards he was following, fighting back a hot surge of anger and trying to replace it with the cold edge of patience.

There would be a reckoning. It was just a matter of when.

The two hostage takers were talking to each other in low voices that echoed in the empty stone structure.

They were Arkhoran, no doubt about it.

Which was not good.

Kalastoni already resented Arkhor for the centuries they'd held on to Cepi. Now some Arkhorans were putting everyone on Kalastoni at risk, and using the Halatians as hostages was just another twisted touch.

Mak would stop them, and he would enjoy every minute of it. These people were trying to drag Arkhor down, make them the pariahs of the Verdant String, and he would not allow it.

“Mak, are you there?” The whisper in his ear made him stop. Her voice eased some of the tension he was feeling.

“Yes.” He was far enough behind the two senior guards and they were talking loudly enough, he thought it safe to reply. “I'm following two of the hostage-takers who took you to that room. What can you tell me about them?”

There was a moment of startled silence. “You saw us? Where were you?”

“Don’t worry about that. Do you have any information for me?” He could hear the girls talking in the background, guessed she had her back turned to the door and was pretending to be part of the conversation.

“The man is Cors, and I think he's the operations officer. He was definitely the one who vetted the members of the group, because he was in trouble for letting Hamand slip through. I think they're an offshoot of The Calling, or they're a group who used The Calling as a front. Hamand seems to be a genuine believer, and that's a problem for Veld, the leader. He hasn't got time for ideology.”

The Calling. Mak shook his head. This just got stranger and stranger. The Calling wasn't an Arkhoran cult. It was supposedly a Kalastoni movement, but there were a few people from all over the Verdant String who'd joined up.

“The woman is called Garde. She's the second-in-command. I don't know any more about either of them.”

“It's more than I had before.” Mak shortened his step as Garde and Cors slowed down up ahead. “I'm going to put you on silent for a while. Hang on.”

He edged closer. There were plenty of shadows, but even if there hadn't been, it would have been hard for them to spot him.

He stepped carefully into a roughly circular room, one he'd been in before when he'd infiltrated the ruins for fun a while back. He leaned against the wall in a nice deep shadow created by the strange dimensions of the room.

Cors and Garde stood in the center, on either side of a circular carved disk that was flush with the floor. They sunk to their haunches and put their hands on it.

“In three, two, one.” Garde counted down, and then moved her hands clockwise, while Cors mirrored her on the other side.

The disk turned, and they stepped back as it seemed to sink into the floor, in a way that didn't make sense.

Its diameter when they'd turned it was more or less the length of Mak's arm, shoulder to wrist, but as it fell away it seemed to take more of the floor with it, as if the ground were liquid, not solid.

“Freaks me out, every time,” Cors said, and Mak found himself agreeing with him.

“Come on.” Garde dropped into the hole, and after a moment's hesitation, Cors did the same.

Mak walked carefully forward, testing each step, until he reached the edge of the hole.

He couldn't see anything inside it, it was pitch black.

He tapped his comm set to switch to the team's frequency. “Checking in,” he said. “I've followed the two senior lieutenants of this op to a strange-as-shit hole in the ground. I'm going to follow them. It's in that circular room we've all been in before, to the right of the entrance. The hostages are in a room down the same passageway. Also, no way in hell they just found this, so it's an inside job. Erenn, tell Sinjin to hold every single member of the Cepi team who is handed over and start questioning them about this. Wish me luck.”

He ended the transmission before anyone could respond, because he didn't have time to stand around talking.

Taking a deep breath, he checked his pack, and then he jumped.