[Zach]

"Pacing won't help," Flint mumbled, while laying on a bunk with arms folded across his chest. His irritated eyes traced my back-and-forth walk.

The guest quarters had become our prison. I tried the hatch again — still locked, of course. Hours before, we woke up here, sore and unceremoniously laid face-down on the deck. Since my com-viewer was missing, I didn't know how much time had passed, but it felt like forever.

"We need to do something to help Avia," I finally said, as if Flint didn't know.

"Agreed," Flint replied. "But even if we get out of here, those androids would intercept us." Flint tapped his ear then pointed upward, reminding me of the listening devices in this room, and that we needed to not reveal too much.

"Right," I spat, sitting down on another bunk and placing my head in hands. The helplessness hung sour in my gut.

Flint swung his legs over the bunk edge, sitting up. "Do you love Avia?"

My eyes snapped up, the unexpected question from a hardened ex-marine surprising me. But Flint's steel-blue eyes were sympathetic, showing no signs of judgement.

"Yeah," I answered, looking down again.

"She loves you, too. Told me as much."

"It's hard to just sit here." I shuddered as a flurry of dark emotions swept through my mind — burning rage that Damon violated her; icy dread that I might have lost her forever; bitter self-loathing that I could not protect her; sickening despair that I could do nothing now.

Flint's eyes glanced down to his leg, then back up again. "I understand. Kicking Damon's arse would make me feel better," he said. Reaching down, he rolled up a pant leg, revealing his dark-gray plas-steel artificial leg. A certain touch sequence opened a hidden compartment, and he extracted a rod-shaped plasma cutter tool. "But sometimes, there is nothing you can do. Know what I mean?"

My eyes widened, but I continued the verbal ruse for the listening devices. "I suppose so."

"When the time is right, we will see Avia again."

My eyes met Flint's, and in his, blue fire burned. He had not given up — far from it. When the time is right, he had said. So, we wait for the right opportunity.

But waiting was hard. How long? Each moment worrying for Avia was agony. With the plasma cutter, we might escape the cabin, but what then? Damon would see us coming, and there were almost a hundred armed androids at his command to stop us.

"I'm worried about Avia," I said.

Flint lifted sympathetic eyes. "I'm worried, too."

We waited in tense silence. I laid back on the bed, fingers interlaced behind my head, and stared at the upper bunk above me. Avia was the most resourceful person I had ever met. I learned that chasing her, frustratingly so at first, then gratefully so after we teamed up.

Given the circumstances, what could she have done? She had created an anti-bot code of some sort. Would she have executed that? But that Flint and I were still locked up implied it didn't work, or she never got the chance.

Or Avia had been harmed... My gut twisted at the thought. No! That was not acceptable, so I cast the notion away.

"Hang in there, Avia," I mumbled to the universe.

Letting out a long, frustrated breath, I turned onto my side. But something hard poked into my right hip. I rarely put anything in my upper side pockets because of this, choosing instead the cargo-style leg pockets. Sitting up, I dug into my right pocket.

A ring... I held a breath and my eyes widened as I recognized it. Avia's ID ring.

She must have slipped it into my pocket, but why? It must be important, somehow?

"Flint," I said, almost in a whisper, holding out the ring.

He turned his head, wrinkling his forehead, then his eyes widened. "Avia's?"

I tapped my pocket, showing where I found it. Flint stood up and accepted the ring from me, twirling it in his hand. A grin grew on his face and he nodded, then handed the ring back to me. "When the time is right, she will come back," he whispered.

It was a cryptic response, for obvious reasons. On Santus Station, when Gideon captured her, Avia laid the path for her eventual rescue, and so it must be again. It had to be, and the ring was somehow key to her salvation, or more likely, the code it contained. I firmed my expression and caught Flint's eyes. "When the time is right," I repeated.

As if to answer, the cabin lights flickered off, then back on. After a few minutes, it happened again. Then a third time, with a sizzling snap, the lights stayed off. Total darkness engulfed us for a moment before an emergency light came on, casting dim illumination. I wrinkled my brow.

"A power surge, I think." Flint speculated as he stood.

I stood tall beside him. "Then, is the time right?"

In Flint's blazing eyes, the warrior emerged. "Time comes."

Flint knew where to cut the oval-shaped hatch — standard internal hatches had a single locking bolt at mid-height opposite the hinges. Shielding his face with an arm, he wielded the plasma cutter like a dagger, generating a hissing spray of sparks that danced across the deck. But the plas-steel did not yield easily. Hazy blue smoke and ozone tingled my nose.

"The ring must be important," I said as Flint worked, "since Avia took the trouble to put it in my pocket."

"It's more than an identification device," he answered. "It also contains her cybernetic reset code. Our objective is clear now — put it back on her finger."

Flint switched off the cutter. "Help me with this," he said, tipping his head toward the hatch handle. It took both our grunting efforts before the grating hinges relented and the reluctant hatch swung open.

Flint peeked into the passageway, which was just as dimly lit. "All clear. Let's go."

"For Avia," I said, passing the threshold.

"For Avia," Flint repeated, his firm expression resolute. "Whatever it takes."

I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Whatever it takes."

After passing through, we pulled closed the hatch. Only on close inspection would it appear breached.

Flint put a finger to his lips as we creeped down the passageway. We had no weapons, so our only advantage was stealth. But if whatever power issue that took down the lighting did not also negate the security monitors, that advantage was mute. Since a group of androids had not yet challenged us gave me a glimmer of hope.

First, we passed the open hatch to Damon's cabin, finding no one within.

The next hatch was the galley. As we approached, Flint in front, an android ambled out, nearly colliding with him. In swift motion, Flint grasped the android's neck with one hand, and with the other, shoved the activated plasma cutter into its chest, cutting upward. After a few sputtering sparks, the android's glowing red eyes went blank and it slumped. Flint dragged the deactivated robot into a dark storage room to hide it.

After a few deep breaths, my racing heart finally slowed to a merely elevated rate. The galley was also uninhabited. Where were they?

Frowning, Flint held up the cutter, then tossed it aside. "The power cell is drained," he explained.

As Flint peeked out into the passageway, a sudden sharp twang-like sound echoed from the distance, making me flinch. "What was that?" I whispered.

"An EMP. Someone else is here."

The EMP explained the power issues, but added another variable. Who else was here?

"Let's go," Flint said in a quiet voice, waving us on.

We crept quietly along. Voices. The stone-walled passage channeled voices from the distance. I could not make out the words, but someone new was indeed here. I stopped and tilted my head to listen more closely.

Then all hell broke loose. I flinched as a sudden staccato of sharp pops and startled cries reverberated through the passageway. Orange flashes painted the wall opposite the recreation room hatch.

Flint pulled me into an empty storage room. "We don't want to wander into a firefight."

I agreed with that.

But it ended within a few seconds, followed by eerie silence. Then more voices — Damon's voice and another that sounded familiar. Uncle Darius? What was he doing here? Based on the firefight, it wasn't a friendly social call.

I cautiously peeked out into the passageway, but ducked back as Damon emerged from the recreation room. A finger to my lips warned Flint, and we hugged the shadows.

Damon, with the little girl Nyx at one hand and a bloodied knife within the other, first passed our position, followed closely by Leal and Avia, their postures stiff and expressions blank. With a hand, I stifled an airy huff. Avia's glazed eyes briefly turned our way, and within them, a tiny spark of herself appeared. Or at least I hoped so.

"I know that was difficult for you, my little one," Damon instructed Nyx as they walked. "But many are the barriers to greatness, and often they must be dealt with forcibly. In time, you will understand."

Bastard! Was Avia just a barrier to remove? More than she might suffer from his delusions.

Avia... My heart sank. She was clearly under Damon's control, like Lael. Fresh blood had splattered her arm and t-shirt, but she appeared uninjured. The urge to run to her, to hold her, to take her away now nearly overwhelmed me. But that would doom us all. Multiple clanking steps revealed why before we saw them — a small parade of androids followed behind.

I glanced at Flint. Eyes narrowed and lips firmed, he held up a hand, confirming my decision to remain. This was not the right time to rescue Avia, despite what my heart urged.

When Damon's entourage disappeared around a bend, we emerged from hiding and moved on to the recreation room where the firefight had occurred. I gasped at the slaughter, at first turning away. A dozen bodies in black environmental suits were sprawled across the deck in unnatural positions, laying in shallow crimson pools. Some scorched plasma-fire wounds still smoldered. Burned flesh stench gagged me, and I put a hand to my mouth to hold down the bile.

Flint seemed to take the carnage in stride, picking up two plasma rifles and handing one to me. "Now we have weapons," he said matter-of-factly.

As I surveyed the scene, one body caused a double-take. I crouched down before it, and upon recognition, let out a long breath. Uncle Darius laid with mouth gapping and eyes open, a bloody slash to his neck, the obvious cause of death. For a brief moment, I recalled happier times with him when I was a child — cheerful badgering at family gatherings, vacations at expensive resorts, the guidance that I once thought sage. My starship, the Freebird, was a gift from him. The twinge of grief passed quickly. He cast his lot, and karma was particularly harsh.

"You know him?" Flint asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My Uncle Darius," I answered without inflection as I stood.

"The Darius Welde who chased you and Avia across the galaxy? He was your uncle?" Flint had not known that.

"Yes." A flash of guilt twisted my gut. My decisions had placed Avia on that path, ultimately leading here. "Let's go get Avia," I said flatly.

Flint examined his weapon, nodding. "It's mealtime, and Damon likes things on schedule, so they are probably in the galley. This is how we play it: I'll go in first, firing to draw their attention, then you follow to pull Avia out and put the ring on her finger. Any questions?"

It was a simple plan, and there were so many variables, but I was done waiting for the perfect moment. "None," I answered, firming my expression.

Flint drew his eyes to narrow slits. "And if I get a shot to take out Damon, I'm taking it. Any problems with that?"

"None whatsoever." If Flint didn't, I would.

Flint's expression softened, his lips turned up, and he held out a hand. "An honor fighting with you, son."

The potential finality of his words gave me pause, but only for a second. If we were to die, I could think of no better cause. I grasped Flint's hand firmly. "For Avia."