"Are you sure?" Amala asked, leaning forward.

"Yes, I'm sure," Nicholas replied.

"Check it again."

Nicholas obediently turned back to the console, putting on the headset again. The size had been adjusted all the way to the smallest, just so it could fit on his head; Krakoshan heads were generally wider. After listening for only a few seconds, he tore the headset off, nodding.

"I'm sure," he repeated.

Amala exhaled slowly, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. They had been flying their stolen skyhopper for a little more than a day now, resting every once in a while. Any longer, and their ship would run out of fuel. So far, they had managed to avoid dogfights with other patrols running around the sky but apart from the other ships, there appeared to be no signs of life anywhere else, confounding Amala. How was it that she managed to find more fellow captives picking her way through the jungle than soaring high up in the skies?

Her crew had also grown tired of staying cooped up in the ship. The many hours of flying meant they had been forced to endure each other's company in the small ship for far too long, which felt much smaller without any rooms for privacy. They had sighted multiple bases on the ground, indicating that this was a widespread operation, but Amala hadn't been able to bring herself to attack a single one. Each time, there was always an excuse: too many men, no ships, too much weaponry. Eventually, either their fuel or supplies would run out, and they were already almost out of the army rations they'd discovered in the emergency kits in the cockpit.

Then, this had happened. Someone had broadcasted an emergency squawk code from one of the bases. Normally, it wouldn't have merited a look, but finding a Kingsfield distress call on a Krakoshan-controlled planet could very well have meant that a fellow Kinetic had attempted a cry for help. While there was always the possibility of a trap, Amala had many doubts of that. For one, it was highly unlikely that the Krakoshans would have faked a distress signal on the radio, since the Kinetics running loose in the wilderness lacked radios to pick up the signal in the first place.

At this time, Amala was standing in the cockpit, directly behind their Krakoshan captive. The Krakoshan had been rather obedient the last two days, doing everything exactly as she told him to the letter. He hardly raised dissent now and she was glad for his cooperation. The injury he'd sustained in his foot had been treated using supplies from a medical kit stored onboard the skyhopper, although Amala had been loathe to use those supplies on him. Still, it had been necessary, considering how badly they needed the pilot.

From the conversations she'd had with him, she'd gathered some small amounts of information. Rhiark, as he was called, had explained to her the situation as far as he was aware. Apparently, there had been a breach in one of their bases several days ago, resulting in a cascade of catastrophes that had resulted in the accidental release of roughly a hundred Kinetics. The Krakoshans seemed worked up, constantly ferrying troops in and out in an attempt to recapture all the escapees, but according to Rhiark, the situation was only growing worse by the day. Amala smiled. Case in point, she thought.

The only other person in the cockpit was Nicholas. He sat in the copilot's seat, a job he'd been assigned to after Amala had discovered that he had some knowledge of flight mechanics. He monitored the radar and radio, as well as assisted in navigation.

"Take us down," she decided. "Land us in the hangar."

Rhiark nodded, steadily guiding the ship forward. Below them, a base seemed to break through the red foliage of the jungle, a fortified space against the wilderness around it. However, it was immediately obvious at first glance that there was something wrong with the base. In several areas, green Krakoshan masses swarmed around several patches in the perimeter fence, mending gaps in their defense. There had once been turrets on the corners surrounding the compound, but those looked shredded, as if destroyed in the maws of a large creature. Ground crews scurried everywhere, carrying out repairs and otherwise struggling to maintain the base.

If anything, the damage to the base confirmed Amala's suspicions. Only Kinetics could have done this, and that meant there were Kinetics in the vicinity. The ship flew lower, wings angling so that the turbines could slow their descent. Strangely, nobody on the ground looked up or hailed their craft as they flew into the open hangar, landing in an empty space unchallenged. This may be a sign of a trap, Amala thought. That, or a stroke of good fortune. She had yet to decide.

"Nobody said anything," Nicholas said incredulously. "Nobody stopped us."

The ship touched down, the turbines rumbling as they powered down. The hangar was clear, and there were only five other ships inside. When they landed, no ground crews rushed to greet them or attend to their craft, and no customs official visited right away.

"Gather the team," Amala ordered.

Nicholas got up, disappearing into the back. Moments later, the rest of her group entered the small cockpit, cramming in alongside each other among excited mutters. Flying around and doing nothing for two days had made them restless. Turning to face them, Amala gave them her briefing.

"Several minutes ago, we intercepted a distress signal from this base," she announced. "Under our circumstances, we would have ignored it, had it not been for the fact that the distress signal was of Kingsfield origin."

"What the hell does that mean?" Lian drawled. "Plain Terran, please."

"Someone broadcasted a Kingsfield emergency signal," Nicholas explained. "Not a Krakoshan emergency signal. That probably means there are other Kinetics out there, and one of them did this."

"Sounds like a trap," Garth muttered. "Are we scouting things out?"

"No," Amala answered. "We'll have to check things out as we go. We're dangerously low on fuel, and besides, this time, I think we're staging a rescue."

She glanced at each of them in turn, weighing them in her mind. Finally, her gaze rested on Garth and Lian.

"Garth," she said. "Have you any skill in manipulating metal?"

"A little," he said. "Why?"

"Lian, stay on the ship," Amala said. "Keep your guard up and be ready to take us out of here. Use the guns if you have to."

"What?" Lian balked. "Why me?"

"Because your powers are momentum-based," Amala said. "If we encounter difficulties while inside the compound, your powers are useless in confined areas."

Lian opened her mouth to protest, but she shut it at Amala's glare. Instead, she nodded, looking sullen, and Amala turned her attention to the pilot. When she spoke, she switched to Krakoshan.

"Keep the engine running," she said. "When Lian gives the word, take us into the air."

Rhiark glanced at her.

"What if they try boarding the ship?" he asked. "Should I go and-"

"Lian will take care of it," Amala told him.

"And the ship?" he asked. "We are low on fuel-"

"Actually, you know what?" Amala scowled. "Just don't move."

Rhiark stopped moving.

"Alright," Amala said, switching back to Terran. "Lian, lower the ramp so we can disembark. Keep the ramp closed after we leave and only lower it when you see us coming."

Lian nodded and Amala led the rest to the back, patiently waiting as the motor in the ship lowered the ramp with a loud hiss. When the ramp touched the ground, Nicholas glanced at her, giving her an apprehensive look.

"Anytime now, Nicholas," she said crossly.

The boy sighed and reluctantly stepped forward, bracing himself on the ground like a runner before a race. Then, he disappeared in a flash of red lightning. Moments later, he reappeared in a burst of more red lightning, a pained expression on his face.

"No guards," he said, grimacing. "Looks like everyone's busy."

"Selene, take point," Amala commanded.

The other girl balked, immediately shaking her head.

"No way," she said. "Why am I taking lead? Shouldn't one of you guys be the lead?"

Amala sighed, rubbing her temple. Despite her height and poise, Selene was actually the most childish member in her opinion, always complaining about every task assigned to her. It was almost like she was used to never doing anything herself.

"Garth is the logical choice for defense," Amala pointed out. "And Nicholas's abilities are limited in tight spaces. Take the lead."

Selene sighed, but stepped out cautiously, her platinum blonde hair swishing furiously in its tail. Amala smiled slightly, following her down the ramp as she motioned for Nicholas and Garth to close up their rear.

Their ship had touched down on the far side of the hangar, slightly apart from the other ships inside. From the looks of it, the base had been constructed in a simplistic military style, so that the metal walls of the buildings lacked decor and everything was laid out in a grid-like pattern.

As the group descended down the ramp, Amala found herself glancing around worriedly despite Nicholas's report that there were no Krakoshans in sight. Strangely, no Krakoshans could be seen anywhere in the hangar, not even ground crews looking over the ships. A few vehicles were strewn around, some still carrying crates of tools and supplies. Other than the five ships in the hangar, including theirs, the rest of the hangar floor was completely and suspiciously empty.

Amala reached behind herself, pulling out the plasma pistol she'd taken from the skyhopper, the same one she'd used to shoot the pilot in the foot with. After clumsily checking the chamber, she lowered the weapon, keeping her finger on the trigger. Even with the base in disarray and nobody in sight, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared for the worst.

The four of them made their way over to a door built into the far side of the hangar, sticking to the shadows as much as possible despite an obvious lack of personnel. When they reached the door, Amala stepped up, jabbing at the control panel to open the door. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

A noise on her left made her look, just in time to see a small procession emerge from another door in the hangar. None of the Krakoshans looked their way, but Amala hissed in alarm and waved everyone through their door, ducking in as quickly as possible. They emerged in a narrow hallway and the others quickly raced on ahead to secure the passageway. Amala raised a hand to the control panel, about to close the door, but she took a moment to risk a peek to see if they'd been noticed.

Back in the hangar, a slim Krakoshan in a dark navy military scientist's uniform leading the procession had stopped at the ramp of another ship, talking animatedly with a Krakoshan dressed in gold armor. A pair of odd-looking Krakoshans stood on the ground a respectful distance away, one built like a mountain and the other skinny as a stick, but before Amala could get a chance to investigate further, Nicholas tapped her shoulder, indicating that the hallway was secure.

"We're short on time," he reminded her, a note of urgency in his voice.

"Alright," Amala said.

She tore her gaze away from the Krakoshans, quickly tapping the command to close the door. It had been pure luck that none of the Krakoshans had seen them.

Now that they were safe, Amala glanced around them, examining the space they were in. The corridor they had entered was hexagonal in cross-section and had a single lighting strip on the ceiling, all made of the same dark metal as the rest of the base. Several doors were built into the wall, each operated by a panel similar to the one she'd operated for the hangar door, and once again, there were no Krakoshans in sight. Even so, Amala indicated that they should keep formation.

"Where to now?" Nicholas asked.

"We need to secure ourselves a map," Amala said, eyeing the doors nearest them as they walked past. "If you see a Krakoshan, kill them before he or she can sound an alarm."

Suddenly, a piercing shriek broke through the relative silence, accompanied by flashing red light. The moment the alarm started ringing, Amala snarled in disgust.

"Fan out!" she snapped. "They must have discovered us already. Nicholas, take a look at the hangar, see if the ship is alright."

Garth and Selene took off, running toward the nearest intersections as Nicholas ran for the door to the hangar they had entered through moments before. A few tense seconds passed, and then all three were running back to her.

"Report," she demanded.

"There's no one here," Selene said.

"The ship's fine," Nicholas assured her. "Nobody's giving it a second glance."

"You might want to take a look at this for yourself," Garth added.

Amala gave him a sharp glance, then stalked forward, leading the others. When she reached the bend in the hallway, she peered cautiously around, then stepped out fully to examine the carnage before her.

Seven dead Krakoshan soldiers littered the floor, a pool of blue blood surrounding them. From the looks of it, someone had cut them down with brute strength, all in a horrific fashion. One lay on the ground, his chest dented in all the way in the shape of a handprint, and another had a hole through his face. A shirtless Krakoshan also lay on the ground, its head bent at an unnatural angle, blood pouring out of holes in his head and between his legs, looking as if he had been skewered by a spear like a kebab.

Selene gagged, turning away.

"What the hell...?" Garth muttered. "Odin's crows. What killed them?"

"I don't really want to find out," Nicholas said queasily. "Come on, Amala. What do we do now?"

"Something else is loose in this base," Amala muttered. "We have to press our advantage. Keep moving."

They passed by an open door, revealing more dead Krakoshans inside. Some of these were dressed in lab coats, blood from their chests staining their white coats blue. Amala paused here, briefly peering into the room. A surgical table sat at the end of the room, covered in a bloodstained sheet and red Terran blood flooding out of a basin beside it. She frowned anxiously at that, but she kept moving, picking her way carefully through the dead Krakoshans to reach the other end of the hallway.

At the next intersection, she stopped, listening to the sound of pounding footsteps.

"Do you hear that?" she asked, to no one in particular.

Almost immediately, a group of Krakoshans rounded the corner, large bulky rifles already in their arms. As soon as they saw Amala and her group, they squawked in surprise, throwing their rifles up to shoot.

"Take them!" Amala barked.

Before she finished speaking, red lightning crackled across the metal floor, electrocuting the Krakoshans through their bare feet. . In a matter of seconds, the squad was down, unconscious and badly burned in some places. Behind them, a middle-aged Krakoshan with a scar on her cheek let out a squeal, scrambling away from the corpses of her bodyguards.

"Garth, stop her," Amala snapped.

The boy stepped forward, sliding across the metal ground as if surfing a wave of liquid metal. An instant later, he was in front of the fleeing Krakoshan, seizing her by the arm. Amala called him back, then turned to the Krakoshan, who looked at her fearfully.

"What is your name?" Amala asked in Krakoshan.

"K-Kruahn," the Krakoshan answered. She was female.

"Kruahn," Amala said, "lead us to where you keep captives."

The Krakoshan's eyes widened, but she nodded vigorously. She had a small scar on her left cheek, a slash that was slightly discolored and left the scales on her cheek slightly chipped. Without hesitation, she pointed down one of the hallways.

"This way," she said.

Amala nodded to Selene, who kept pace with their Krakoshan guide. As they traveled down the hallway, she had the boys take up the rear, allowing her to question the captive.

"How many are here?" she asked.

"Five in total," Kruahn answered. "Three in stasis, two in operation."

"Operation?" Amala asked. "Explain."

"We subject the Kinetic to various stresses," Kruahn said. "Physical trauma, biochemical agents, mental stress, and surgery. By applying these stimuli to the subject, we can track the response of the kinetase."

"Kinetase," Amala muttered. "Isn't that the-"

"The protein family that grants Kinetic abilities, yes," Kruahn said.

"Why not just take a blood sample and review it?" Amala asked. "There's no need for this level of experimentation."

"We can't," the Krakoshan said, shaking her head. "Kinetase has a special property, a characteristic that makes it particularly difficult to study."

"What's that?" Amala asked.

"It denatures if it's taken out of the Terran's body," Kruahn said, her eyes shining with excitement, as if she were discussing an ordinary science fair project. "Even when all conditions of the human body are simulated, the kinetase protein breaks down anyway. We have yet to solve this mystery."

Suddenly, Kruahn stopped, pointing toward a door nearby.

"Beyond this door is the first of two in operation," she said. "The other three are in pods in one of the rooms around the corner up ahead."

She hesitated, looking surprised to have spoken.

"You said there were two in operation," Amala pressed. "Where's the other?"

"Escaped," Kruahn said. "That's why the alarms are ringing."

Amala's eyes narrowed.

"Unlock this door," she commanded, pushing the Krakoshan toward the control panel. To the others, she tilted her head at the end of the corridor.

"Get the kids," she ordered. "We're leaving now."

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