Amber stared in terrified fascination at the arrowhead formation of pilot stations on the ship's bridge. One thing she could see right away was that she couldn't drive it alone. The chairs were far too large for a human to use properly so she would have to stand, but already her agile mind was racing as she started making sense of the controls. Alien though the ship-builders may have been, they were still bipedal, with two arms and two legs, meaning the designs were just familiar enough that she could extrapolate.

She rounded the massive chair that stood taller than her, and took a closer look at the main helm controls. A large handle was placed beneath another screen – presumably some kind of forward display. Amber glanced back at the operatives of Tundra squad that were watching her intently, then punched the activation switch. The machine came to life with a low hum. A whole series of readings flashed up in the alien language, but she couldn't make heads nor tails of it.

"Okay, it looks like the controls are operational," she said nervously. "But I'll need help to drive this thing. Any volunteers?"

"I'll take a station," Vass answered immediately, and he indicated one of his squad members with a pointing finger. "Chayze, you're up."

The girl looked thoroughly aghast at the prospect, but she nodded, moving reluctantly over to the right hand station.

"Get the controls initialised," Amber told them. "Find out what's what. This layout's not a million miles from a CC-12."

"A what?"

"Cargo freighter, old style," she elaborated. "I've got the main helm; the others must control weapons and power application." Vass and the other girl exchanged looks before doing as she asked. As they moved to their positions she addressed their companions on the sub. "Churchwood, this is Operative Garret. Are you still getting mono-rig telemetry from the others?"

"I'm afraid not. That beast's pulse has wrought nothing short of havoc on all non-critical systems." His voice was heavy with regret.

"Then I guess we're doing it the hard way. Listen up, Professor. We're going to describe what we see, and you're going to tell us how to get it to work. Okay?"

The comm crackled with static for a moment.

"Professor Churchwood?"

"We'll certainly do our best, Operative," he said, albeit a little uncertainly. "Tell us what you're looking at."

As best she could, Amber and her companions started to describe the layout of the ship's bridge to the smallest detail. She outlined the symbols displayed on the main console, the mechanisms that seemed to operate them and the diagrams that were being shown to them by the vessel's systems. At first there was a worryingly long silence as the scientists on the Manitta-Vanna took in the information, but when Churchwood returned to the comm he had good news.

"Based on the data we've been collating," he said. "Your guess of the operations wasn't far off. Operative Juntaar's console controls the secondary drive systems. He has control of the magnetic locks that are holding the ship in place. You'll have to disable them in order to leave. He has access to the long range scanner read-out while you have a short range display for close steering control. Oh, and he is also in control of the ship's primary weapons."

She saw Vass's mouth turn up in a smile as she continued. "And Chazye?"

"The other console appears to be a monitoring and diagnostics post. It'll feed through with power levels, hull integrity and power distribution. Operative Chayze will be responsible for keeping you aware of any power failures, overloads or hull breaches."

"Nice work, Professor," she replied, genuinely impressed by the comprehensive overlay of their situation. "And as far as getting it working...?"

"Standby," Churchwood said. "We'll walk you through it."

Instructions started flying in almost faster than Amber could follow as the man directed them through a slew of possible start up sequences. While an element of trial and error still remained in translating the alien language, Churchwood and his team had not been idle on board the Manitta-Vanna. Identifying dozens of the recurring symbols form all across the city had given them an entire cross section of the language to work with, speeding up the process immeasurably. When a low humming sound filled the air after the final start up command Amber felt the deck beneath her vibrate. Her heart leapt.

They were briefly interrupted when the clatter of booted feet sounding in the passages behind them heralded the arrival of the first group of survivors. Relief surged through her when she looked around to see Niamh and Brannigan come hurtling into the room. To her surprise it was Brannigan who went flying into a hug. She was taken aback for a moment before returning the embrace. When they pulled apart Brannigan gave her a breathless grin.

"Good to see you alive and kicking," she said.

"You too, Operative," Amber agreed, smiling back.

Niamh stepped up alongside them, clapping Amber on the shoulder. "Beating the odds again eh?"

"It's a habit."

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Close enough," Amber said, indicating her leg ruefully.

"I hate to break up this reunion," Vass snapped. "But we're under a bit of a time crunch here. We need get this ship fully operational if we're gonna get out of here, so save the hugs and kisses for later."

Amber glared at him, but she knew he was right. And she knew there was one other thing they needed to do if any of them were going to get out of the city in one piece. Pulling the alien data pad from her pack, she turned it on and handed it to Brannigan.

"We still need to get the outer doors open," she said. "Link with Churchwood and go digging through this gizmo. Find us the command sequence that opens them. Can you do that?"

"I've been staring at that crazy algebra for the last two hours," Brannigan said, taking the pad from her. "I'm on it."

"Has anyone else made it?" Niamh asked.

Vass shook his head. "You're the first."

Her jaw tightened and she stood silent for a moment, then gave him a stiff nod of understanding. The operatives set to work again, pressing on to initialise as many of the ship's systems as they could. From what Amber could tell on the readouts the engines were fully operational, currently warming up, and she was also acutely aware of the continuing sporadic booms from overhead as more bits of masonry tumbled to strike the ship. They were running out of time.

The engines coming online provided them with the most crucial thing for their improvised escape pod: life support. She heard the thrumming of mechanisms in the walls and ceilings and saw triangular grates suddenly open in sections of wall that had looked completely flat before. Not long after than the next group of wayward operatives arrived, and this time it was Amber who went flying to meet them.

On impulse she went crashing into Hekket's arms, and felt a sense of safety descend when he hugged her close, laughing in relief. They stayed clamped together for several seconds until Amber remembered where they were, and what she was doing. When they eventually stepped apart she stared into his eyes and saw that same look, concern and happiness struggling for control of his features.

"Your...your eye," he stuttered, brushing a loop of her hair aside to examine the injury.

"I'm okay, really," she insisted, pulling his hand away with a smile. "Cath patched me up." Then her gaze shifted and she saw Darien standing a few feet further back. He wore an expression she'd never seen before: his mouth hung slightly open as he started wide-eyed.

"You're alive," he breathed after a moment.

"Yeah..." She moved over and hugged him. "Yeah, I am. Sorry if I scared you."

"On the radio...why didn't you...?"

"Well you were going on about Leviathans and leaving the city and stuff," she pointed out. "I didn't want to cramp your style."

That got through. A grin cracked his stunned features and he shook his head in amazement. "Good to have you back."

"And I'm happy to be here, but right now we've still got some work to do," she told him. "This old hulk seems to be operational but we're still running the start up sequences. I just hope the hull can hold out if the roof caves in."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Darien replied. He looked to Vass. "That was good thinking – using this thing as a lifeboat."

Vass gave him a respectful nod.

Then Darien cast a suspicious glance around the room. "Where's Vandal?"

"They haven't arrived yet."

"They should have made it here before us," he murmured. "Hammerhead to Vandal – Mina do you read me?"

Listening over the comm, Amber could only hear an ominous fuzz of static in response. Darien tried again. This time someone did reply, but it wasn't Vandal's leader.

"This is Taggs," a shrill male voice bawled over the communications band, one that she hadn't heard before. "Second officer, Vandal Squad. We were caught in a collapse before we could make our Blink. We have one casualty K.I.A. and Mina is critically wounded. We're minutes away – have medical help standing by!"

For a moment everyone in the room was frozen to the spot, everyone except Darien. As soon as the grim radio message had reached his ears he started moving. He strode straight over to Hekket and grabbed the medic by the arm, speaking in a low, firm voice.

"Take Cath with you and get to the boarding ramp," he ordered. "Radio me when you meet them."

"On our way." Hekket clicked his fingers and beckoned Cath to follow. As he made to leave, however, Darien held him back for a moment.

"We've already lost one," Darien said, his iron-hard stare boring into the other operative's eyes. "No-one else. Understand?"

"Count on it."

She caught Hekket's eye as he turned to exit the room. The briefest smile flashed across his face before he was gone. Amber felt a surge of pride – the boy may once have spoken out against her, but no-one could match his commitment to keeping his comrades safe. His actions on Titan Aquilla had saved Uther's life – probably the lives of everyone else in the squad too, and here he was again, rising to the challenge.

A tense few minutes dragged inexorably by as they waited for the final column of lost operatives to arrive. Amber kept her mind off it, furiously running through more checks under Churchwood's guidance to make sure the ship would be ready to leave. The engines were warming up and she could feel the rumble of their power building below. Green read-outs were appearing on consoles all over the bridge. She made a brief mental note of thanks for small miracles. It looked like she might well be able to pilot the ancient hulk after all.

At last the radio message from Hekket arrived – the last operatives from Vandal Squad were aboard and the ship's boarding ramp was sealed. That meant it was time for Amber to put her piloting skills to the test. She moved into position behind the massive steering column, eyes darting over the readings. She swallowed hard. Theories were lovely things until you had to put them into practice.

She felt a hand descend on her shoulder and glanced back to see Darien. She hadn't even noticed him move up behind her. The hardness had fled from his features and he now stood as a model of calm. He indicated the controls with a nod.

"Just take it nice and slow," he said softly. "You can do this." A booming impact from a large piece of debris made her flinch but his calm tone didn't waver. "Ignore it. Just focus on the controls and on getting us into the ocean. Take all the time you need." Inhaling a shuddering breath, she nodded and shook herself, loosening her mind and her body for the task ahead. Then she turned to the pilot station.

"Kelsey," Amber called over her shoulder. "Tell me you've got that command sequence."

The other operative didn't answer. She simply strode over and handed the pad to her, grinning from ear to ear. Amber looked at the screen and sure enough, there were two five symbol sequences – the first to break the lock-out and the second presumably a command for the doors themselves.

"Nice work."

She turned back to the main pilot station where the large buttons waited invitingly on the panel to the right of the screen. Praying, Amber reached forward and keyed in the sequences. A hollow feeling began to take root in her stomach when it seemed like nothing was happening. She looked at the others; Brannigan's face dropped, her brow creasing in confusion.

"But I'm sure-"

A grinding noise cut her off. It reverberated through the trembling cavern and a low throbbing alarm thundered in Amber's ears. She glanced around furtively.

"What is that?" she shouted over the noise.

"It's the bulkheads," Vass laughed back hysterically. "The bulkhead doors around the dock are closing in preparation for opening the main doors!"

Relief surged through her at his exclamation. Seconds boomed by in her head as the bulkheads irised shut around them, sealing the bay from the rest of the city. Then, like a curtain falling, the alarms abruptly stopped. She watched in amazement as the enormous doors started to heave themselves apart, their mechanisms fighting the motion after millennia of inactivity. The groan of ancient gears echoed through the vast space for a few seconds, and then the ocean came crashing in, cascading over the threshold and striking the bow of the ship. Foam sluiced up over the window and she felt the submarine shudder under the impact.

"Okay..." she breathed. "Looks like we are in business. Vass, get ready to release the docking magnets."

"Just give the word," he replied.

She waited for as long as she dared, trying to ignore the jarring impacts on the upper armour as the water level rose rapidly to cover the ship. When she judged the doors had opened far enough she took a firm grip on the controls. They felt ungainly and oversized in her diminutive grip, but she pushed the sensation aside. She nodded to Vass.

"Release the clamps."

"Here goes nothing."

She felt the vessel wobble as the massive magnets holding it in place disengaged. "Chayze?"

"Err..."

"Talk to me, damn it!"

"Power readings are up to over fifty percent," the girl blurted out. "That should be enough to move us."

"That's all we need. Everybody hang on!" Amber dragged the huge control stick towards her with a growl of effort, and the deck plating rumbled in response. It took all her strength to hold the enormous steering column in place and her arms shook from the strain. But she didn't need to hold it for long.

The ancient vessel's massive turbines erupted into life, churning water and propelling them ponderously out into the depths of the ocean. Amber kept a vice-like grip on the controls, wary of just how wide this ship was. Striking either side of the doorway could be fatal in their current situation. On the screen in front of her a proximity read blinked red as she cruised within meters of smashing into the doors.

Like a metal whale the ship slid out of the dry dock.

"Okay, we're clear," Chayze reported, letting out a gasp of relief.

Only then did Amber relax, loosening her iron grip and exhaling the breath she'd been holding. The watching operatives broke out into cheers and whoops of relief as they finally escaped the cold, dead world beneath the waves.

"Quiet!" Darien barked suddenly, silencing them. Amber glanced over her shoulder at him, but he was staring grimly out of the bridge window. "This is far from over."