Darien ducked back as a burst of rifle fire crackled against the door frame. Opposite him Niamh leaned out; fired. One guard fell screaming with a divot in his thigh. The others recoiled, dragging their injured comrade back into cover as more cannon rounds thumped down the passage.

The only saving grace they had was the bottleneck of the entrance tunnel. As long as their ammo held out the four of them could defend the aft section for a long time. Shortly after their companions had Blinked out to the medical lab the ominous echo of running feet reached the remaining operatives. Minutes later the guards had finally arrived in force, igniting a chaotic fire-fight for control of the ship's secret weapon.

"Loading!" Darien declared, stepping back from the door and letting Idas take his place. The sporadic crackle and thump of gunfire reverberated around the rear chamber as he clipped a fresh magazine of shells into his Compac. He glanced furtively back at the cage. The operatives had no idea how much punishment the thick glass could take, but he didn't want to risk a stray bullet smashing it and killing the girl inside.

He saw Niamh switch places with Uther, reloading her own cannon as the lanky operative took up a firing position.

"Where the hell are they?" she hissed, looking around for any sign of their missing companions.

He didn't answer but he'd been wondering the same thing. It shouldn't have take this long for Amber and Hekket to return.

The tinkle of bullets against glass made him turn his head sharply to see a row of white scars pockmarking the reinforced exterior of the holding cage. The heavily built structure had withstood it this time, but he doubted it had been designed to withstand direct gunfire. Gritting his teeth he moved up behind Idas, counting the shots as his friend fired.

Seconds crawled by.

"Darien!"

He whirled at the sound of a familiar voice to see Amber and Hekket standing near the centre of the room, the air around them still shimmering from the Blink.

"Seal the door!" he roared, turning back and snapping off another shot with his cannon. Uther leapt over to the airlock and rattled off a sequence into its keypad. The first door began to roll with a groan, just as three armed guards hove into view at the far end of the passage. With a dull thunk of metal on metal the airlock sealed, shutting them inside. The older operative's fingers danced over the controls as he entered a locking command, blocking their enemies from reopening.

The clatter of booted feet and muted voices sounded dimly from the corridor beyond. For a long moment they all stood staring. Their secret was well and truly out now.

"Idas, Uther, keep your eyes on that door," Darien ordered. Then he turned to face their returned companions, locking eyes with Hekket. "This would the time to give us some good news."

When Amber and Hekket exchanged an uneasy glance he felt a leaden weight settle in his stomach.

"What is it?"

"We spoke to the scientist," Hekket explained. "We can't disconnect her from here. If we do the neural feedback will kill her."

"We need to take the bridge," Amber continued. "There's a link to the ship's navigation console wired to her brain. It has to be severed from that end."

"Take the bridge?"

"If that's the only way we can disconnect her safely then we don't have much choice."

Darien closed his eyes, fighting down his frustration. Just once couldn't they get a simple, straight pitch down the middle? A multitude of obstacles and unknowns stood in their way. Although they could Blink past the guards currently assaulting the aft section, they didn't have a full floor plan. He didn't know where the bridge was. Logic dictated that it would be in the forward section at the apex of the long thin hull segment, but this rest of the ship's design wasn't particularly logical.

More importantly, he had no information as to the crew compliment of the vessel. One this size could easily hold over two hundred. Judging from their sparse encounters with guards on their way in, he guessed the ship was running undermanned, but that didn't mean they weren't heavily outnumbered. He looked down at the Compac. They had heavy weapons and a lot of ammunition, but an all out assault on the bridge would still be a hell of a risk.

"You're sure that's the only way?" he asked.

Hekket shrugged. "It's all we could get out of that scientist. If she's right once the bridge link is disconnected we can uncouple the rest relatively safely."

"And there's no way you can do it yourself."

The medic's eyes narrowed. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"Alright, alright."

"Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it soon," Uther warned. "They're trying to hack the lock. I can block them for now but it won't last."

"That's it, we can't wait any longer," Niamh said, turning. "I don't give a damn what that scientist told you – we are out of options. She could have been lying just to get you to leave that room!"

"We can't-,"

"We don't have time, Hekket. Kill the power to that pod and get her out!"

"What about this are you still not getting?" Hekket hissed. "She is plugged into this damn ship. Her whole nervous system is wired to it. It's all connected. This isn't like flicking a switch or powering down an engine. If we just cut the power she'll die!"

"If we don't cut the power we can't call for back up," Niamh countered. "With that thing online we can't send a signal to bring in the cavalry!" She looked at Darien grimly. "I hate to be the one to say it, but we might not have another option. We have no idea how many people are left on this ship, or on board that stardock out there, and there are only six of us. One person's life is not worth us failing this mission!"

"So we should just kill her?" Amber gasped. "Niamh, we can't do that!"

"You think I'm happy about this? I'm just telling you the facts. We can pull this plug and lose a single person, or make a run at that bridge which might get us all killed."

"That's enough!" Darien snarled, silencing them.

Amber clamped her mouth shut and stepped back, shooting Niamh a furious glance. Then all eyes turned to Darien. He stood rigid, hands balled into tight fists and his eyes boring into the deck plating.

Idas sighed, looking over at the closed door. "We need a third option."

"No we don't," Darien growled, turning his wild-eyed glare on the closed airlock.

Amber looked at him sharply. "Meaning what?"

"Meaning everyone lock and load." His face had descended into a mask of barely restrained rage as he spoke. "We're not going to sit and wait out a siege, but we're sure as hell not pulling the plug and killing this girl. We've got heavy armour, we've got these cannons, they can't track our life signs, and we are Blink operatives. We're going out there and we're heading for the bridge, straight and true. Anyone that gets in our way-," he hefted his Compac meaningfully and looked at Niamh. "We'll kill them."

And he meant meant every single syllable.

He looked to Uther. "Destroy that lock. I don't want anyone getting in here while we're gone."

*

Darien led the way through the ship's corridors, Compac thumping as he shot anything that moved. Bodies crumpled to the ground, cratered with smoking wounds from his unerring, vengeful accuracy. He didn't even feel remorse – not anymore. Whatever vestiges of pity and empathy he might have harboured had been completely erased by the sight of the girl in the tank. Now he would happily send everyone responsible to hell without a thought.

With Niamh and Idas hot on his heels he scuttled through the passages as fast as he dared, blasting his way toward the forward section. Their initial Blink out of the aft section had flung them almost halfway down the ship's length, but they still had a long way to go. Still no alarms blared, despite the fire-fight now raging on board – he wondered if the vessel even had alarms. The response of the guards, thankfully, seemed threadbare. Unable to track the operatives they couldn't concentrate their numbers anywhere to block their path. So on they went, a stiletto stabbing long and deep.

All the while he searched for anything that looked like a control interface. Ships of the colonial navy were littered with integrated units, providing access to systems data from dozens of points. On this bizarre vessel he hadn't seen a single one. It was like the whole forward section was just one gigantic antennae to power the vessel's Blink capabilities. Maybe that was what you sacrificed to make a ship capable of such a thing.

He jerked around another corner, Compac aimed, but no guards were waiting for them. "Clear," he barked. Niamh slid past him; Idas followed. He moved up after that, keeping Amber and Hekket behind him while Uther served as their rearguard. Something in him didn't want the pair to have to kill. Hekket was a medic – a healer – meant to keep people alive. And Amber...Amber still had enough idealism in her that she wasn't willing to make the unpalatable choices that might soon be necessary.

Darien didn't want to crush that out of her. This mission had changed him, but he hadn't decided if it was for better or worse. Right now he simply kept his mind away from the realities of what they were doing. He let the killing settle into a rhythm – just another training exercise. Turn; aim; shoot; move; repeat.

Before he had time to dwell on it any longer the operatives emerged out into a broad, low-ceilinged corridor, and at its far end he spotted two things. The first was the unmistakable plinth of an integrated satellite interface, its screen shining invitingly. The second was the group of four guards gathered around it.

He didn't need to give any orders. Before any of the men could react his Compac flashed and one of them hit the deck, dead with a hole in his chest. He hurled himself into a roll as a clatter of return fire sprayed down the passage. As the surviving guards focused on him Niamh and Idas emerged from the connecting corridor. Three thumps sounded. The rifles of the guards fell silent.

Darien came to one knee, aiming instinctively down the passage only to see the four bodies crumpled unmoving around the console. The machine stood oblivious and undamaged, a testament to the accuracy of the operatives.

He rose to his meet, motioning the others to follow. The six of them spread out in a loose formation across the broad passage, moving with the speed and precision of their training and experience.

Stepping over the corpses, Darien kept his eyes locked on the machine. He directed the others with a series of chopping gestures, sending them to cover the corners in the passage against any unwanted guests. Then he moved up next to the console and beckoned Amber over.

"Get in there," he said quietly. "And find me a floor plan."

She looked pale and he could see her fighting not to look at the dead bodies scattered around them, but she nodded nonetheless. Her eyes hardened and she took up her position, hands dancing over the interface. Soon he saw images of the ship's decks flashing up, specifications, blueprints and distances – everything they needed to fully utilise their most potent weapon. All they needed was the location of their target. He resisted the urge to press her, instead casting his eyes around the empty passage where the other operatives held their protective perimeter.

"Darien," Amber whispered, tugging at his shoulder.

He glanced back to the screen to see a section of the ship's internal schematic, this one laid out in a solid grid of small rooms bisected by a single corridor. Above the display in bold, geometric type it read: DECK 1 – SUBJECT QUARTERS.

"Subject quarters?" he murmured.

Amber's eyes narrowed. "Holding cells. That must be where they're holding the other kids they've taken."

Indecision gnawed at him as he examined the specifications. In theory they could Blink down there right now, but he didn't know what they'd find. There could be an army of guards, and it would be precious time wasted if they couldn't open the holding cells. Eventually he gave a grim shake of his head.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "But we need to get to the bridge first." She looked at him sharply but he held his ground. "We will go back for them, Amber."

Her jaw tightened and for a moment he thought she was going to argue, but instead she gave him a stiff nod and turned back to the task. Her fingers started moving again scrolling through the schematics again. Seconds crawled by and he could feel his anticipation building, a tingling under his skin as he waited, and waited.

"Got it!" Amber declared. "Deck 8, forward section." She pointed at the screen. The display showed a large octagonal room twenty metres across, filled with the blocks of control consoles. With a flash of her fingers she zoomed the image out to show their position in relation to the bridge, indicated by a small glowing dot. He looked over it quickly, his mind racing as he took in the scale; the measurements of the ship's exact length. In a few seconds his mind ran through the calculations for a Blink to the nearby corridors.

"Get over here," Darien hissed to the others. They quickly scuttled over form their positions, gathering to look at the display. He pointed at the glowing dot. "That's where we are. According to this schematic that," - he pointed again - "is the bridge. We'll Blink to the nearest corridor – you can bet there'll be guards inside and out."

"Hasn't stopped us so far," Idas rumbled, hefting his Compac meaningfully as he stared at the numbers.

Darien waited for a few seconds, watching the faces of his fellow operatives as they finished their own calculations, seeing each one crease with concentration, then relax.

"Everyone ready?"

His companions nodded, their faces set with determination.

"Then circle up," he grated. "It's time to finish this."