The echoes of civilian footsteps and their rickety carts have been increasing for the last few hours. They are due at any moment.

When they arrive with their embarkation orders, they'll require guidance. Once they grab a gander at ARC10, all of their senses will leave their damn heads.

"Expect the worst," I say to Umpire and Coodi who cover the entrance of the harbor with me. "We've had months to prepare ourselves for this mutant toaster. These people have no idea what to expect."

"Aye-aye, Commander." Coodi squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. Her rigid stance calms me for the first time since the Marketplace Tragedy fifteen days ago. If there's anyone I can trust to take the weight off my shoulders for a second, it's her.

In the aftermath, a new quiet settled over the URE. I'm listening to that strange noiselessness now. I hear footsteps, but it sounds as if they don't belong to humans. Maybe they're an anomaly of the wind.

The first civilians poke their heads through the doorway to gaze in awe at the ship. I allow them a couple of seconds before announcing my presence.

"I am Commander Lorn of ARC10. Unload your items at your designated rack. If you feel your immediate safety is threatened, inform a soldier. If you have issues with unloading, technicians are placed around the ship who can help you. Drop your items off and disembark immediately so the next group can come in and easily do the same. There will be plenty of time to explore later."

My voice rings clear in the vast room. However, I don't believe the people heard a single word as they pass me, slack-jawed, clutching their treasures to their chests.

My unit disperses to prod the people along. So far, the procedure runs smoothly. The citizens remain acquiescent and willing to shuffle along with as little noise as possible.

As the hours roll by, I grow bored as civilians amble through. McCroy joins me on the ramp. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other and sags forward.

I clear my throat.

He straightens again and smiles.

As our stamina wanes, I hear the clink drag clink drag clink of a familiar gait.

"Hello, Warren," I say with the thinnest veneer of enthusiasm. "It's so good to see you."

He spits at my feet and clinks on.

"A pleasure. As always."

He carries a duffle centered on his back—the long canvas runs the length of his entire torso. He could be carrying a body in there for all I know.

We wait while the remaining groups finish unloading their possessions and disembark the ship. Flatts and Umpire perform a final check to ensure all passengers are out before we shut the port for the day. I shift closer to Warrant Officer Orra Coodi. "Well, that was uneventful."

Her bright brown eyes outlined in black kohl scan the retreating civilians. "To most people, that's a good sign."

"I'm not used to things going according to plan."

She grins.

"Hey, Boss, we got a problem." Umpire's voice booms through the comms.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "There it is."

She follows me up the ramp to meet him.

"What's the problem?" she asks.

"There's an old guy refusing to leave his bunk. I gave him five minutes before warning him I'd come back and escort his saggy ass out. When I come back, he's gone. Never saw him leave, though."

"Fucking Warren," I whisper under my breath. Umpire and Coodi follow as I stalk the halls to Warren's bunk. "Warren, you better be in your designated area when I get over there, or I swear to the Lady I'm ripping off your tin-can head with my bare hands."

When we arrive at his bunk, it's empty.

"Warren," I shout again at the empty room. "You're in big fucking trouble."

Umpire and Coodi part so I can charge between them. I stride through the halls, peering into each cabin for the tell-tale signs of his fat filth. "Ump, sweep Quads One and Two. He couldn't have gone far."

"Aye-Aye, Reaper Boss." He drifts off through another hall as Coodi and I march on.

Nothing. After twenty minutes of flitting around the empty passageways, I face the last section. With Coodi at my heels, shallow bravado sweeps me into the makeshift marketplace.

I force away the smells of flesh and fire. I quell the sounds of rage and terror with the silence of the unused booths. I compel my eyes open to ensure the flames remain in my memories and don't claw through to my reality.

"Commander?" Coodi interrupts my panic. "I'm registering small heat signatures in the northeast section of the marketplace. But they're fading." She extends her arm and projects the blips. The red light recedes from the rungs of a ladder leading to a circular hatch at the top of the room.

I've never seen that hatch before. The schematics of this ship are as a detailed etching in my brain. Nowhere in the plans does a room exist above the marketplace. Except for the all-seeing control tower, no other space exists above the market.

We evaluate once we reach the ladder.

No. With his drunken coordination, glitchy prosthetic, and heaving gut, there is no way he could have made it up there.

"This is probably the stupidest thing he can do on this ship." I grab a rung above my head.