The waystation guided them.
There was no other explanation. Doors opened ahead of them, closed behind them, corridors lit up to show the path while others plunged into darkness. Ari’s glow pulsed steadily, almost contentedly, as if she was having a conversation with the ancient systems that Doren couldn’t hear.
“What’s happening?” Emma gasped as they ran.
“The facility’s protecting her.” Doren pulled her around a corner, following lights that flickered in sequence. “She activated its defenses somehow. The Precursors must have built in countermeasures against exactly this kind of intrusion.”
“The Grorn?—”
“Dealt with. For now.” He didn’t want to think about what “dealt with” meant. The waystation had shown no mercy, no restraint.These systems had been dormant for twelve thousand years, waiting for an Aurelian to awaken them.
Waiting for something to protect.
They burst out of a side entrance he hadn’t known existed, emerging into the harsh sunlight of Veris IV. TheVagabondsat on the landing pad ahead, untouched, its ramp already lowering as Doren’s emergency signal reached the ship’s automated systems.
“Go! Get aboard!”
Emma sprinted for the ship while Doren covered their retreat, scanning for any Grorn who might have remained outside. The excavation camp was visible in the distance—prefab shelters, vehicles, equipment—but no movement. Either everyone had been inside the waystation, or they were regrouping.
He didn’t intend to stay long enough to find out which.
The ramp sealed behind him as he dove into the cargo bay. Emma was already strapping into the co-pilot’s seat, Ari still clutched against her chest, when he reached the cockpit.
“Punch it,” she said.
He punched it.
TheVagabondscreamed upward, her engines howling in protest as Doren pushed them past their rated capacity. G-forces pressed him into his seat, but he didn’t ease off—couldn’t ease off, not until they’d broken atmosphere, not until the stars surrounded them and hyperspace was just a button-press away.
A proximity alarm shrieked.
“Grorn ship,” Emma reported, her voice tight. “Coming up fast from the planet’s far side. They must have been in orbit.”
Doren’s hands flew across the controls. “How long until we can jump?”
“Navigation says... four minutes to safe distance.”
The pursuing ship was faster than theVagabond. Newer, military-grade, built for exactly this kind of chase. Doren could see it on the sensors, closing the gap with every second.
Three minutes fifty seconds.
The first volley of weapons fire lit up the void behind them.
Doren flew like a demon.
Every trick he’d learned in twenty years of smuggling, every desperate maneuver that had kept him alive through a dozen near-misses with law enforcement and pirates and worse—he threw them all at the problem. Rolling the ship to present a smaller target, using the planet’s gravity well for a slingshot burst of speed, cutting thrust at unexpected moments to throw off targeting solutions.
The Grorn kept coming.
“Two minutes,” Emma called out. Another volley streaked past, closer this time. The ship shuddered as something grazed their shields. “Doren?—”
“I know.”
He did know. The math was simple, brutal. They weren’t going to make it. The Grorn ship would be in optimal weapons rangewithin ninety seconds, and then their shields would fail, and then?—
Ari began to glow again.
The light was different this time. Brighter, more focused, concentrated on her small hands where they pressed against the console Emma had set her near while strapping in. The baby wasn’t crying, wasn’t scared—she looked determined, her dark eyes fixed on something only she could see.
