Adequin dropped into the chair beside Jackin, and he reached over to grip her shoulder before returning to work. She stared at the flashing holographic displays for a few silent minutes, and soon found herself slouching into the padded chair. Her eyes drooped, and though she tried to hold onto consciousness, she eventually gave in and let sleep take her.
* * *
Griffith smiles, warm eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”
Adequin stands and slings the sniper rifle over her back. “I had a decent teacher.”
“Oh, yeah? Bet he’s a great guy.”
She shrugs. “Just some old man.”
His amused grin persists, but he shakes his head and sighs. “Will this spot work?”
“If the intel’s right.”
“And if it’s wrong?” he asks, scratching his beard with one hand. “And they really are on Haudin-IV, or way off somewhere in the Perimeter Veil? Not Paxus?”
“Then we’re alone on this planet,” she says, then lets out a listless breath. “And that’s just fine.”
A small ovoid drone with spindly arms flies up to hover in front of them. It drops the carcass of a fat, juicy carnis hawk at their feet, shot through the forehead with a single plasma bolt. Adequin swipes across her nexus screen to dismiss the drone back to camp, and it speeds away. She kneels and picks up the garnet-feathered bird, then looks to Griffith.
“I caught it, you cook it.”
The corners of his eyes wrinkle. “Deal.”
They turn back toward camp, walking along the edge of the embankment, which falls away steeply into a wooded valley.
“You know,” Griffith says, “your teacher might be an old man, but with age comes wisdom.”
She grins. “With age comes being tired a lot.”
His voice falls to a low, serious rumble. “You tired, Quin?”
“Aren’t you?”
He sighs a weary, heavy sigh that says more than any words could. “It’ll be over soon.”
She tries to look at him, but can’t. His edges aren’t clear, aren’t sharp. He’s there, but not. If she tries to reach out and touch him, she’s sure her hand will pass right through.
They pause and look out across the valley toward the foot of the mountain, where a placid river snakes through uncut wilderness. Tomorrow it will burn, all of it.
* * *
“Sir?”
Adequin shot awake so quickly, she almost slid off the front of her chair.
“Whoa, boss,” Jackin said, still hovered over his terminal. “It’s just Puck on your nexus.”
She looked down and saw her comm link flashing, then tapped to open it. “Go for Rake,” she said, her voice gravelly from disuse. She checked the time in the corner of the screen, relieved to see she’d only been asleep for forty minutes.
“We’ve swept the Drudgers’ ship and have it docked at P4,” Puck began, his voice hesitant.
“But?” she prompted.
“Well, sir … you’re going to want to see this.”
“I’ll be right there.” Adequin stood and shook out her tired limbs, slightly sore from using her Imprints, but very sore from sleep deprivation. “Jack, keep an eye out for Lugen’s call, or anyone’s for that matter. Patch them through to my nexus.”
“You got it.”
Adequin made her way down the corridor to the port-side air locks and through the Drudger ship’s hatch, where Puck stood waiting, wringing his hands nervously.