The triangular noses of the Nova fighters pierced through the atmosphere, breaking the cloud barrier and flying high above the ground. A backdrop of lightning accented their arrival—though unknown to those below—and raindrops pelted at the glass canopy of the cockpit, leaving streaks as they ran up and over. Wind buffeted them in every direction, trying its damnedest to either ground or throw them off course. With each nerve-wracking bout of turbulence, Xaleyp’s heart sunk, thinking that it was finally going to be the one that finally brought them down. However, that blow never came, and, after half an hour of anxiety-ridden flying, they broke free of the hurricane’s control.

Behind them, the star of Vortau was just beginning to crest the horizon in this part of the planet. Far below were the scattered lights of cities on the many islands, some flicking on and off as people awoke and left or arrived home. So far, there had been no sign that the Arcadians knew they were on the planet, and Ardus maintained radio silence to keep it that way. Any time the three Nova fighters needed to communicate with one another, it was in short bursts to ensure it went undetected.

Finally, after hours of flying low in the atmosphere, the small village of Wyeford appeared in the distance. Formed in an area of the swamp below that happened to be relatively dry, it was small and somewhat out of the way, holding a battalion of God’s Machine soldiers on standby for a mission such as the one they were carrying out. There were several tall skyscrapers, two dozen stories or so high, scattered among the relatively short collection of buildings that made up the town. Towards the far side, a warehouse stood, every window lit as if acting as a beacon for them. Beyond were the mountains that Nevermoor Hold was constructed against, their peaks white and craggy, as well as the piercing glow of New Alexandria, their skyscrapers soaring into the air.

The Novas swooped low, screeching around the town and rattling windows before coming to a halt in a flat open field in front of the warehouse. Dozens of crates dotted the area, some open and others closed, while yet more were stacked two or three high and teetered dangerously in places. A few transport ships, not unlike the Helios-Two dropship, were also in the midst of the clutter. Scattered throughout the junkyardesque area were groups of people passing out rifles and other weapons.

A small assortment of people met them at their landing site, each armed with an assault rifle and wearing black wetsuits. One of the soldiers towards the front, somewhat shorter than the rest, raised a hand in recognition as the Novas gently lowered themselves to the ground, their wheels flaring out underneath to keep them raised up off the soft earth. When she walked forward, Xaleyp recognized her at once.

“Colonel Diaspora,” he called out as the cockpit opened and the engine noise died down. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How did you get stuck in this mess?”

“Our leader himself came to me,” she said, puffing out her chest. “When our leader comes to us and makes a personal request of us, we accept—any less is cowardice, and unfit for our cause. I didn’t get stuck in this mess, as ye so kindly put it. It was a high honor for him to come to me and offer me this opportunity, not some horrible coercion. Now, come along, we don’t got all day for ye lot to dally around. We only got an hour to dawn.”

She turned on her heel and briskly walked away, not even waiting a moment for the five of them to take their helmets off, let alone get out of the fighters and down the ladders. Xaleyp took his helmet off and stood, staring in her wake, as the ladder unfolded itself and Eve pushed past him to disembark. Once on the ground, she looked back over her shoulder, giving him a sly smile.

“Come on, now. We don’t got all day, after all.”

Xaleyp gaped for a moment before climbing down himself and following towards the warehouse, Zechiel, Crowley, Hudson, and Mian bringing up the rear. The God’s Machine soldiers around them slowly joined in a sort of blob, moving as a herd rather than any cohesive unit. Straps held their assault rifles around their necks, and their hands rested lazily on top, confident in their decision to relax at the moment.

Once across the field, the warehouse loomed large overhead, standing a few dozen meters in the air with a massive blast door cracked open and looking as if it were stuck there. A guard stood at either side of the opening, watching their approach and nodding to Colonel Diaspora as she entered. They moved aside to let the group of newcomers in as the other God’s Machine soldiers stayed outside, gathering in a semicircle around the makeshift door.

Inside was a buzz of activity of noise. Aged machinery that looked as if it hadn’t been touched in decades stood scattered about the area with pockets of soldiers standing around them. Small peripheral robots—some the size of cats and dogs and others the size of prairie dogs and mice—skittered around the area, carrying disparate parts and pieces, loading canvas covered trucks with supplies, and even attempting to cobble together different tools and pieces of equipment for the operation. It was an almost unceasing stream of the machines, though they were programmed to dodge around the people walking through, ensuring a constant flow for both parties. Finally, the Colonel stopped at the rear of one of the vehicles, turning to face the five of them with her hands on her hips.

“Right, I assume that General Kaine told ye lot the plan?” A somewhat blank expression came to Xaleyp’s face as the others turned to face him. Diaspora sighed and shook her head, planting her face firmly in the palm of her hand. “What did ye expect when ye got here? To waltz on in like a numpty and expect them to just do whateva ye want?”

“No, of course not,” Xaleyp said, his face burning as he tried to defend himself. “I know that your organization will be causing a distraction while we get in through the sewers. He just didn’t tell me exactly how we were going to be getting from point A to point B, which I assume you’re about to do.”

“Right ye are.” As she said the words, she turned and patted the bed of the truck, a smile on her face, before pulling a plasma cutter from a side pocket and handing it to Adric. She turned on her heel and handed a small brick to Hudson, which Xaleyp recognized from his classes at Vertyn as tritinium, then handed a backpack to Scarecrow, who put it on. Finally, she handed a combat knife in a holster to each of them. “Yer going to be riding with one of our squadrons to the front lines. Lucky for ye, though, yer going to be getting off a wee bit early to break away and head for the sewer entrance while we draw their attention to the opposite side.”

“Wait, so you’re just dropping us off in the middle of a swamp and expecting us to find our way to a sewer so that we can kidnap some Secretary of State?” Tyler Hudson asked, cocking an eyebrow and sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

“If that’s what yer after, that’s yer own business, and the less I know, the better.” Diaspora shrugged and looked back to Xaleyp. “Any questions, or can we get this show underway before they all wake up and go about their days?”

“I think we’re good,” Xaleyp said, looking over each of them, his eyes landing on Hudson for a second longer. “We all knew this wasn’t going to be glamorous, so we shouldn’t expect any less.”

“Right.” The Colonel clapped her hands together and shouted to be heard above the din of the warehouse. As she spoke, the groups of soldiers and those outside the door crowded the area, the stamping of their feet echoing in the cavernous building. “Right then, ye lot, gather around. We’re just about ready to leave, and I don’t want to be leaving anyone behind, so listen closely. Group up with yer squadrons and get to yer assigned vehicles. The two squads in the dropships will be flying in low and taking them head on in the courtyard while the truck teams assail the walls. Our job is to keep them busy long enough for these dafties to complete their mission, got it? No matter what happens, keep the assignment going and make sure they can do what they need to, or we won’t have a planet left to be fighting for. Alright then, let’s load up and show them what God’s Machine can really do.”

A brief cheer surged from the watching crowd before dying away just as fast. The soldiers jogged to hurry in every direction, some getting into the truck they stood behind, others going back outside, and the rest moving along the lines of vehicles. Zechiel, Hudson, Crowley, and Eve stepped up into the truck in front of them, and, before Xaleyp had a chance to join them, Mian stopped him. She scratched behind her ear, looking down at her feet and avoiding looking him in the eye.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, her voice barely audible in the clamor around them. She nodded to a newly empty section of the warehouse and began walking that way before waiting for an answer.

Xaleyp hesitated, unsure of whether or not to go with her. After all, he couldn't just leave her here, not in the middle of some random Arcadian town, no matter how much he distrusted her. Finally, after several moments of standing in silence, he hurried over to where she was pacing back and forth.

“What is it?”

“Listen, I just want to say again how sorry I am, and I want to put all of that behind us and start fresh, okay?” She crossed her arms at her chest and stared him in the eye, unblinking. “I know how much it hurt you for me to gain your trust, make you believe that I was someone I wasn’t, and then practically stab you in the back. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to make it up to you, but I won’t be able to stand it if I let us go into this mess without knowing we can trust each other enough to watch our backs.”

Xaleyp considered her words in silence, watching as her eyes moved back and forth between his own, then he looked at the ground, thinking. On the surface, he could hardly stand the fact that she spent so long acting as if she was someone else, spying on him without telling him. Deep down, however, he knew she was right: It hurt, but it was not as life-ending as it appeared, not to mention the feelings he had for her, no matter how much he tried to push them down. With a sigh, he shook his head and brought his eyes back up to meet hers.

“Okay.” Even the one word was difficult for him to form, as it felt like mud formed in the back of his mouth and gummed his tongue to the roof. He held out his hand to her. “No hard feelings.”

She ignored the gesture, instead launching herself at him and wrapping her arms around his neck and clasped tight. Startled, he didn’t know what to do at first, then relaxed and held her to him, gripping her around the midsection. The feeling of her body against his, combined with the somewhat woodsy smell emanating from her hair, sent a burning sensation to his cheeks. After what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, she released him and stepped away, her face as red as his felt.

“Sorry,” she stammered, tripping over her own feet as she began to walk away. “I got a little carried away. Thanks for forgiving me, I’ll just go meet you on the truck.”

Xaleyp stood, frozen in place, as he watched her go, dodging around the robots skittering across the floor—or, rather, them dodging her. After several seconds of standing there in somewhat stunned silence, he followed in her path and accepted Eve’s help in getting up into the back of the truck, sitting and holding on as it rumbled out of the warehouse.