The person who ran into the embrace of Janine and Martyshkina might have looked strange to some. Horrifying even. She was a metal skeleton with ribs fused together, an eternal grinning smile, the dim white forever smoldering in the lenses sunk deep into the cranium, often instilling fear in anyone who hadn’t spoken to this petulant child. Janine tossed her axe to Impatient One, and, together with Marty, took Lyudochka into a spin.

  There was no clever trick about that metal body; no brain case was hidden inside the chest or agile limbs, nor was she an AI. Born as a human, she had been uploaded into circuits and processors. She had ‘grown’ during their separation, if such a word could be applied to an ageless machine. Her thoracic cavity expanded; longer, multi-jointed limbs replaced the previous humanoid appendages. A cloak of woven chains and white cloth rustled; its upper ends seamlessly entered the smooth surface of the bones.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Moms!” The girl, no, the woman, cried, hugging them. “Sorry so much for writing so rarely; a bunch of stuff happened, and then even more stuff happened, and then this and…”

  “Beat it.” Martyshkina patted her skull. “We also haven’t been the exemplary parents lately.”

  “Then we all suck at communicating! Let’s fix it.” Her jaw closed, surprising Janine. She hadn’t been able to when they found her in the underground laboratory. “How have you been doing?”

  “Existing,” Janine answered evasively and noticed ornate insignias welded into her cub’s limbs. “You are an ambassador in Houstad?”

  “Sorta.” Lyudochka jumped back on the ground and proudly showed them her staff.

  The top was made of gold, the bottom of platinum, while the shaft itself was of stainless steel. Letters of spiritual wisdom covered the golden part, while warnings to temper religious fervor and focus on fostering friendship covered the lower end.

  “Well, to tell the truth, I worked as a clerk in the embassy.” Lyudochka scratched her chin. “Gaining experience, meeting new people, filling out papers for immigration, but then the war broke in, half of our terminals exploded, wounding my colleagues, and Abel ventured on his murder spree, while Mister Wickedbreed was last seen at the Wall. It was scary and stressful when Lord Steward himself had promoted me, but!” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the giant standing silently at her back. “Ur-Champion arrived after Abel had to be recalled before he joined the Reclaimers to wreak retribution.”

  “Is that bad?” Janine ruffled her hair. “Lyudochka, sorry if I sound like an ass, but you said your people were wounded. We wouldn’t mind welcoming Abel into our ranks for a while.”

  “First for a while, then forever. At least such was the reasoning of the Commune’s geezers,” the woman dropped her voice volume to imitate hushing. “Please don’t tell them I said it; they’ll scream at me again. I am sure they have valid concerns; it’s just that I don’t get them. The Gilded Horde is an enemy to all; we should team up against it, not play politics.”

  “Our mouths are sealed,” Martyshkina promised.

  Lyudochka gestured, and the two women leaned in so she could whisper in their ears, “I’m sort of freaking out here and really want the real ambassador to return. I don’t have the faintest idea if I am doing a good job, and I keep asking the military about the whereabouts of our people, and no one knows anything! Argh!” Her voice modulators conveyed the roaring frustration. “All I want is to do the job well, but I am not the right person to handle the situation well!”

  “But you are doing your duty, regardless. Take pride in that,” Janine advised her. “And let us lighten your burdens, daughter. Anissa!”

  “Warlord?” Anissa closed in, watching Lyudochka warily from a distance. “Why does the machine call you mothers?”

  “Because she is our daughter.” Martyshkina slapped the Oathtaker across the back.

  “But… you are women! A girl and a girl cannot produce offspring!” Anissa stammered. “Are you a mutant, Mom? Am I one? Was it an immaculate conception? Or did you eat a chunk of steel before copulating? Is that why she is like this? Or was it Warlord Martyshkina? How did this happen? What did you do?!”

  “And you never deemed it fit to tell us, why?” asked Impatient One, stepping closer to Lyudochka.

  “Shamans have their own secrets; we have ours.” Martyshkina shrugged. “Lyudochka is not to be treated as a Wolfkin. She is gentler, less rigid than us…”

  “She is literally made of metal,” Anissa noted, baring her neck at Janine’s snarl. “Observation, not an insult, Warlord!”

  “…But neither is she an outsider, and her name will be added to the memorial stones.”

  “You are Anissa, right?” Lyudochka shoved herself past the warlords and shook paws with the wolf hag. “Mom told me a lot about you. Is it true that you used a spine to…”

  “To club a bastard to death, not my proudest moment,” Anissa finished the sentence, nervously examining the lifeless fingers that touched her and shuddering.

  Lyudochka stopped; her head turned smoothly to look at Impatient One, who quickly rubbed her muzzle against the metallic limb and frowned. “What… what is she doing? Is this a ritual to ward me off?”

  “I don’t care that you are a soulless abomination and a foul affront to all that is natural; I care that it isn’t possible to mark you as part of the Tribe,” Impatient One answered, rubbing her muzzle again. “Why can’t I scent-mark you?”

  “My surface cleans itself, Impatient One.” The ambassador regained her composure. “Mom, what about Ignacy, Bogdan, and Marco? Can I meet them?”

  “Bogdan,” Janine’s voice almost broke, but she held on, accepting Marty’s paw on her shoulder. “I failed him and many others. Ignacy is fine, but Marco is injured.”

  “Injured… But he is only a child!” The ambassador pressed a hand to her mouth.

  “Happens in service. He’ll be fine,” Janine asked in a tone that left no room for argument. “Lyudochka, we brought several of your people back with us. Maybe they’ll know about the ambassador’s fate. Anissa, escort your sister to Ignacy and explain the situation, then report back to us.”

  “How can I explain when I don’t even understand... I mean, yes, Warlord.” The wolf hag saluted and rushed to the mobile fortress accompanied by the clanking of Lyudochka’s legs. On the run, Anissa turned to the metal woman and asked, “Can I have your number, sis? Don’t really have enough time to chat right now, not with the war happening.”

  “Sure thing!” Lyudochka slipped a hand into the bag around her waist.

  “Brings back memories,” chuckled Marty. “Mommies.”

  “Any other cubs you failed to mention?” Impatient One asked icily.

  “None of your business, Shaman,” Martyshkina said.

  “It is a part of my business, as we are charged by the Blessed Mother herself to maintain a chronicle of each family in the Tribe.” The shaman frowned. “Can you imagine the shame if we fail to mention her lineage?”

  “I don’t think you need to worry about it, Impatient One,” Bertruda said. “It’s unlikely the lady can reproduce.”

  “Didn’t stop these two from ejecting her somehow, so anything’s possible. I am just preparing for the worst.”

  “To the command center, at once!” Janine barked, not wanting to have this argument with the shaman right now. What wasn’t forbidden was allowed, and adoptions were never added to the list of unworthy sins.

  The Inevitable dominated the center of the airport, a palace of steel, tracks, turrets, sensor arrays, missile launchers, and bristly cannons. Its ammunition fully replenished, the centerpiece of the Third stood ready to aid the packs in any way it could, and to rain Abyss down on anyone approaching Houstad.

  As they hurried inside, Bertruda flinched, noticing obvious aggression in the air. Usually rowdy, the packs stood unmoved, fully armored including helmets, watching with unblinking lenses at the Ice Fangs standing opposite of them. The Order’s host outnumbered the Tribe’s three to one, an unnecessary testament to the consequences of betrayal and who had paid the price.

  Gone was the usual banter, and a low growl passed through the tense packs as a Sunblade knight-captain gave the command, and the knights raised their banners, hailing the return of the warlords and welcoming Bertruda. A mistake. It would be better for the Order to let the wound heal rather than cutting it wide open with their fake pretense of caring. And the situation will worsen even more when the news of the Ice Fangs’ failure to protect Marco and their refusal to pay the blood debt becomes public.

  Janine had considered banning this revelation, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to do so, knowing full well that someone would tell the truth and then she would have to murder the disobedient soldier. She did not want to see another Wolfkin die because of the Order’s either direct or indirect treacherous actions ever again.

  No Wolfkin clumsily offered a place at a bonfire and food to the defenders or knights. Hunters and scouts did not sneak into the ranks of another group to tease them. Shamans didn’t explain the faith in the Spirits to curious souls, and the sages refrained from educating warriors and males. If the reports spoke true, for the first time since the two groups had united under Ravager, several shamans had banned the ice boys from attending prayers. Lacerated One punished the shamans responsible, but the fact remained.

  When they had left this place, a unity had chained them. Now, the threat of violence hung in the air, and any wrong move could spark the irrecoverable. Without the Blessed Mother, the alliance of the Tribe and the Order was falling apart.

  “Anissa!” She heard a screeching voice, and the long, segmented body crashed into the wolf hag as she and her companion stepped onto the ramp of the mobile fortress, bringing a flush to Janine’s cheeks. “You’re alive! Oh honey, I was so worried sick upon hearing about Janine’s capture! Let me just check if everything is fine real quick…”

  “We are tougher than this…” Anissa giggled, hearing the melody drummed by the toxicognaths on her helmet. Lyudochka raised a finger and stopped, but then Chak whispered words to Anissa, earned a kiss, and slithered off her, pursuing the company.

  “And you!” Chak’s coils neared the group; his black eyes faced Janine’s. “Where is my armor, barbarian!”

  His outburst drew a couple of chuckles from the rows of soldiers, and Alpha nodded in approval of his game.

  “My armor,” Janine corrected him. “It broke like a rotten egg under Mad Hatter’s fingers.”

  “My crew maintained and repaired that marvel, you ignorant, savage pest! I spent sleepless nights polishing it, replacing damaged servomotors, bundling fiber muscles, and keeping it clean of dirt!” The black clusters of his eyes shifted. “Your armor? A brute such as yourself wouldn’t know how or when to recharge its generator! Your armor. Bah! You piss and drool on it and claim to possess and know these things. Ridiculous. Lost my armor, lost my rifle, but kept that useless axe. Whatever.” He sighed, falling in line. “What’s done is done. It’s good to see you all alive. Visit me at the maintenance bay, Council. We’ll see what we can do to ensure that you’ll stay alive. It will be unseemly if my wife’s mother is not present at our wedding.”

  Calmness. Janine bit her tongue at the mocking laughter of Alpha and the congratulations for Martyshkina and Bertruda. Peace and tranquility. You are a whiff of sand carried by a storm, relaxed and unbothered. Her paws clenched, the fingers pressing hard against the palms. You can’t murder your daughter’s soulmate even if she’s completely wrong about choosing this insect!

  As they approached the Inevitable’s ramp, Alpha lightly elbowed her sisters and nodded at Jacob, who followed after Lyudochka. Janine didn’t understand the meaning of that at first, but then she looked at the ground. Chak’s sharp legs had cracked the stone during his intense stampede, scattering pebbles. One such pebble disappeared… Wrong. It had been stepped on and crushed to dust without so much as a crack.

  An invisibility field, advanced enough to suppress noises of anything that touched it.

  Iterna brought more than just the Problemsolvers. Their deadliest servants, the Shadows, lurked here. A clear violation of the signed treaties, but Alpha didn’t raise a fuss. What in the Abyss is going on here?

  The group entered the crawler, reached the elevator, and it carried them to the bridge doors, where Lacerated One rose from the floor, bowed low, and then remained at the entrance alongside Impatient One, ready to lay down their lives to protect the war council from any unexpected intrusion.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Calm discipline prevailed on the bridge. Dragena, her arms folded behind her back, listened to the officers report on the preparations, occasionally ordering relocations as she studied the holographic map of the city. The operators, stationed in the cavities on either side of the main bridge leading to Ravager’s throne, finished gathering information on the supplies. Jacomie, dressed for battle, sat in Cristobo’s seat, coordinating the regiments of the provincial forces. Zurkov used a walking stick to traverse around and faced the mayor.

  “This isn’t over, Jaquan,” he hissed into the mayor’s face. “The Dynast will hear of it.”

  “Please, Commissioner, none of them died, and we evacuated them to safety as per agreement…” Jaquan spread his hands, smiling sweetly.

  “Don’t play coy with me. Six of them have burns on their necks!” Zurkov slammed his cane against the table, and Jaquan had to catch him before the man could fall when his leg gave way. “At attention!” he yelled, spotting the Wolfkins entering.

  Anji leaped from her seat, closing the distance and placing a paw on Kalaisa’s shoulder. The two women touched foreheads momentarily, saying nothing as Janine took her place beside Alpha, her back to the viewing screens and the lower deck where the operators worked, while Bertruda flanked First, sheathing the exposed edge of Elegance and pointing it down.

  “Janine.” Dragena broke from the map and embraced her. There was no warmth in her voice or passion in the gesture, but Janine appreciated this ritual nonetheless. “Are you capable of fighting?”

  “I can murder, Dragena,” the warlord growled. “You are not keeping me from the battlefield.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” the woman answered coldly. “Bertruda. Your arm?”

  “Working, Warlord,” Bertruda replied. “Scars already formed.”

  “Sorry for not being there, sister.” Janine blinked in surprise, finding herself in the iron hug of Ashbringer. Her named sister spoke without spite or the usual mockery, lowering her voice but not dropping it to a whisper and ignoring that the Sword Saints heard it. “I should’ve returned to the convoy, been at your side.”

  “Ashbringer. It isn’t your fault,” Janine reassured her, embracing the woman, their differences forgotten, and she no longer cared about one-upping the arrogant and prideful soldier.

  “He’ll be fine,” Ashbringer said intensely. “My boys and girls, I have tokens. We’ll find a way to fix him, don’t worry.” She lifted her head, looked at Kalaisa, and nodded.

  “You were a fool to take him out of the pits,” Alpha stated bluntly.

  “Yes.” Janine blinked away tears. It was selfish. So many of her soldiers had died. Bogdan hadn’t been avenged, and her soul wailed, torturing her heart over what had happened to Marco. But she couldn’t help it. “Yes, I was,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

  She brought him here. She trusted him to the Ice Fangs and doubted the wisdom of tradition. Brood Lord took the limbs, but it was her hubris that permitted it to happen to begin with.

  Ashbringer broke away from Janine and stepped up to Alpha, releasing the claws.

  “Shut it.”

  “Are you challenging me, little sister?” Alpha asked and grinned. A touch of fear spreading from her caused people to shudder.

  “I am telling you to shut up.”

  “Kneel, sister.” The smirk changed into a scowl, and fangs flashed in the lamplight. Muscles bulged at the white neck. “Or be shamed.”

  “There is no shame in protecting kin, sister.” Ashbringer stepped close to Alpha, and their bodies touched. It wasn’t just brazen courage. At that close a distance, the taller warlord would have struggled to land the first blow with her longer arms.

  Not that it mattered. Not against Alpha.

  “Spirits speak through you, Ashbringer,” Alpha snorted, relaxing herself. “I overstepped the bounds. The lesson has been learned.”

  “Don’t worry, sister!” A paw slapped Janine on the shoulder, and she jumped from the unexpectedness. Onyxia was behind her, her toes gripping the edge of the platform, and she had crept up on her named sister without so much as a crack. Janine’s heavy landing thump brought a smile to the shadowy lips. “While I draw breath, no hordemen will approach the kiddo. And…” She swallowed, glancing aside. “Iterna owes me, and we are calling in that debt. Don’t argue! It’s my decision. Their medical services are superior to ours...” She turned to First. “And far more trustworthy.”

  “Enough.” Dragena stepped between the two groups, silencing any further barbs. “The Horde is coming. The question is whether they’ll lay siege or attack immediately. Based on the evidence gathered from their previous invasions and the fact that their centerpiece, that Mad Hatter, is coming, the latter is more realistic.”

  “They’ll ram their army into ours, no lubrication,” Martyshkina said.

  “Foul,” Dragena said. “Not inaccurate. They gain nothing by being delayed here, so stalled they won’t be. The Commander is not here, but she has never failed to arrive in our toughest times. It won’t be any different now, either. But with or without the Blessed Mother, we are staking our claim in Houstad. The Horde breaks here.”

  “Idiotic,” Onyxia said. “We’re not built for trench warfare. The Third is famous for our swift attacks, ambushes, and fluidity on the battlefields. This place is mere rock, steel, and glass. Let the Horde have it; there is nothing to devour here. What do we care about useless ancient toys or pretty paintings in museums? When our enemies overstretch themselves, the gleam of our claws will greet them in the darkness of the forests, and our shells will deny them the luxury of sleep. Before the First and the Second arrive, we will fertilize the fields with the corpses of those who oppose the state. We’ll haunt their nightmares and poison their reality, never relenting until they break!”

  “You just love forests,” Martyshkina accused.

  “I do, and I am tired of pretending otherwise.” Onyxia spun, stepping on the platform. “Darkness is our home, and starless nights keep us safe. When I die, I’d love to be buried in the densest forest around here, in a place where the sunlight never reaches.”

  “Noted. But you miss a crucial point, sister.” Dragena raised her paw, stopping Janine from arguing. The map changed to the image of the terraforming complex. “Our future. The future of our descendants and the future of those we serve and protect. If it is destroyed, the ecosystem of the region will suffer. The damage will be severe enough to set back the restoration project by decades, if not centuries.” She snapped her finger, and the image disappeared, giving way to the regional map.

  This model showed the predictions of the geologists and biologists, highlighting forests, parks, farmland, lakes, and rivers. Slowly, the plants withered, and patches of yellow and gray sand ate up large rings among the dead brown fields. These rings of desolation grew and soon covered everything; leaves fell from the trees, and the trunks cracked under the occasional wind. Lakes dried up, leaving hollow craters. Over the course of a year, the thriving region was replaced by nothing but another desert.

  “This is the predicted result if the complex is severely damaged or destroyed, based on several simulations. This outcome we will deny,” Dragena said and addressed Janine. “Sister. The northern gates are yours to hold. I will join you shortly after the battle begins.”

  “I am joining you,” Jacomie declared, rising to her feet with the whine of working servomotors. She stubbornly met Dragena’s emotionless eyes. “I refuse to abandon my city or my people, Warlord.”

  “And what of your wounds, Captain?” Dragena asked. “The Inevitable will soon be down to a skeleton crew, and the New Breeds capable of blocking teleportation are gathered in the complex. I had planned to put you in charge of our crawler, as it plays the most crucial role in our coordination and support.”

  “To hell with it!” Jacomie fired. “Our citizens have died, been wounded or enslaved. And you expect me to cower in the rear? Jaquan joined the volunteers. Put his unit here and let the professionals fight!”

  “As you wish, Captain,” Dragena said evenly. “Janine’s pack will be reinforced by the mixture of volunteers and soldiers.”

  “Well, if that’s the way it is, then I’ll go get suited up too,” Zurkov said, struggling to get to his feet. “I…”

  Jaquan kicked his walking stick, and the policeman fell to the side, almost hitting his head on the table, but Bertruda and Martyshkina’s paws caught him and helped the man to stand.

  “Son of a whore,” the man cursed.

  “That was the practical demonstration,” Jaquan said cheerfully. “Commissioner, I understand your desire, but I do not share it. Personally, I’d be happy hiding in the back. Houstad will need help to rebuild. Zurkov, we have had our differences, but I hope you can overcome your prejudices and continue to serve our city as bravely in the years to come as you have served it lately. I’ll do my part here.”

  Zurkov’s face darkened, but he said nothing and left, supported by Jacomie. Dragena resumed her speech, addressing the warlords and assigning positions in the city for them to defend. Hearing her orders, Janine experienced near despair. The city seemed endless; its sprawling streets, even cut to the most important districts by the walls, stretched on and on, intertwining and forming a colossal labyrinth. Subways, skyscrapers, sewers, and factories—not counting apartments—presented a nightmare to try to hold on to. Once the walls shatter, the hordemen will spill across the entire city, doubtless giving them ample opportunities to flank the defenders.

  Surely Dragena could see it, too. What good was the clever placement of fortifications if they lacked the numbers to properly man them? In the battle against the New Breeds, the regular troops will not have the luxury of a safe retreat. Everything will be decided in a frontal confrontation.

  “What about the Horde’s superweapon?” she voiced her concern. “The one that wiped Opul off the map.”

  “I believe that Mad Hatter intends on capturing this place relatively intact.” Dragena highlighted three possible locations on the map where the Horde could deploy the Sky’s Wrath. “By the time we change her perception about the feasibility of such a goal, it will be too late to use it. Make no mistake in underestimating our opposition or thinking the victory is granted. We are facing approximately a force of two hundred thousand, much of it New Breeds. The land itself is groaning under the sheer mass of combat vehicles bearing down on us. It is do or die.”

  “Butcher them all and watch bodies fall.” Alpha gritted her fangs, rumbling out the words. “If the worst comes to pass, it was an honor, sisters, brothers, allies, and the traitors.” She glared at the Ice Fangs. “I’ve never been the best person around, but you accepted me, and for that I’ll give it my all.”

  To their credit, the Ice Fangs took the insult in stride. Alpha was testing them, Janine understood. Zero and Dragena always had a positive influence on the strongest warlord, cooling down her violent urges, and right now her named sister was testing the white-furred, guessing how much they could be counted on the battlefield.

  “Warlord Dragena,” First said, breaking his silence. “The Order has received no assignments. May I inquire as to the reason?”

  “What good are soldiers who cannot follow orders and refuse to cooperate? What good are troops incompetent enough to lose cubs?” asked Ashbringer.

  “Ashbringer, please, let us be reasonable.” First started in a soothing voice. “We had our differences and arguments, true, but you can’t think…”

  “Can’t think? Are the mindless beasts for your ilk, First?” Alpha interrupted him in a deceptively calm tone. “Or has the Order deemed it fit to tell us what to think now? Give me back my sisters. Return Predaig and Eled. Give Marco his limbs back this instant. Resurrect our every lost kin, then you’ll get the right to tell us what to do.” She spat on the floor. “Since the beginning of this war, the Order has done little more than feed its own vain pride, and the packs are now riled up; they are enraged with you, and they have every right to be. We won’t quench that fire; the tales of your betrayal shall survive everyone present. Step outside and count how many of us are left. The Tribe is close to our own Extinction.”

  “This is why you have to accept our aid,” First insisted. “And not engage in useless arguments. The demise of the Wolf Tribe was never in our intentions, and we’ll sooner die than see our kin disappear.”

  “What sort of cohesion do you expect of our forces in our current predicament?” Alpha dropped the mocking tone. “First, open your eyes and try to see the situation from our point of view. We have tried everything to appease you and to build a kinship with the Order, and yet you still betrayed us. How can we rely on you now, when not a single one of our leaders holds a shred of respect toward your hides?”

  A stomp interrupted First’s response, and Dragena stepped between the two groups. The impact shook the platform, causing the operators to turn in their seats, and Lacerated One charged in, taking up position at the warlord’s side, looking for any signs of insubordination from the Wolfkins present.

  “Enough. We are soldiers. Disagreements and grievances no longer matter. The Wolf Tribe will meet the enemy in the old way, fighting on the side of those we can trust.” She nodded to Alpha. “But the Order won’t be forgotten either. You wish for glory and triumph, and that shall be given to you in abundance. After interrogating the prisoners and learning all we can about Mad Hatter and her commanders, I believe I know a little of how she thinks. Seeing the city weak, she’ll launch one singular assault to overwhelm everything we have, using her own might to break through the defenses at their strongest point. My guess is that she won’t try any complicated approaches and will come in from the west. That means the north and south will be left unattended. We will weather the brunt of the storm.” Her cold eyes looked at First. “So that you can secure the destruction of their war machine and stand triumphantly on our corpses at the end of it, Grandmaster.”

  “We do not act in pursuit of glory,” Bertruda said.

  “Mayhap,” Dragena conceded. “Consider it as a bonus incentive to ensure that no Ice Fang is offended. Think us ungrateful and paranoid if you must.”

  “Mad Hatter isn’t in the command alone,” First cautioned. “Whoever she chose to command the rearguard will bolster the rear’s defenses.”

  “That was accounted for.” Dragena took a terminal from the table and handed it to First. The grandmaster read the information, and a thin smile appeared on his lips. “Yes. We know who it’ll be and how to bait them.”

  “I am afraid I must point out a flaw in your plan, Warlord Dragena,” First said, handing the terminal back. “You said north. For that to work…”

  “I have never made a mistake, Grandmaster,” Dragena answered, watching the observation console showing the crawler’s corridors. “Now silence. Not a word, that’s an order.”

  The doors to the bridge opened, and Schalk stepped inside, quickly saluting the officers.

  “Your will is done, Warlord.” He flashed a smile. “It took more effort than I am willing to admit, but the unions and my boys have loaded every beast from the zoos onto the trucks. If any of those disgusting animals escape... well, I don’t know, shoot me, Ma’am.” He noticed Janine. “My deepest condolences about your children and sisters, Warlord.”

  “Impeccably done.” Dragena inclined her head. “Warlord Janine and I will join the defense of the western gates. Your unit will be added to the crawler’s security. I understand the unusualness of such an order, but the bridge plays a crucial role in our plans.”

  “We get to sit out the fight?” Schalk beamed, then forced a cough. “I mean, yeah, of course you can count on us, Warlord! Smash the bad guys, my girls and boys will keep the place nice and warm; don’t you dare worry, ma’am!”

  He saluted and left the bridge. As the doors sealed them off from the corridors, Dragena calmly returned to the map, issuing orders and outlining strategy. The operators and several officers exchanged glances, too concerned to bother the warlord for clarification. Finally, the youngest of them, a boy of twenty-six and a veteran of two campaigns, left his seat and approached Dragena, baring his throat. The warlord waved away Lacerated One and gestured for the soldier to speak.

  “Warlord,” the operator never bowed, holding his throat exposed, imitating the Wolf Tribe’s tradition. “I believe you have made a mistake. You assigned Warlord Janine to defend the north before.”

  “Never in my life have I made a mistake, brother,” Dragena assured the man. “The deaths of Keon and Maxim Puchkov. The ambush on Captain Cristobo. And precise knowledge of our vulnerable locations is available to the Gilded Horde. None of that was an accident.”

  “Which one?” Janine demanded to know.

  She sniffed the air and sensed no scent mark from the operator but caught a very familiar scent from an opened recess above them. Overjoyed, she rubbed her snout against the man’s neck, marking him as kin on her own volition and granting him the unofficial privileges of more senior crew members for his bravery.

  “One. Another. Both. Maybe the third. Neither. We will waste no effort guessing,” Dragena said. “One way or another, the path to your target will be open, Grandmaster First. I advise you to use the southern gates for the majority of the Order’s units. Allies. The Gilded Horde believes us to be foolish and brutish. They think our civilization is weak and pathetic. It is an apt time to educate them about our cunning.” A snap of her fingers brought back the image of the terraforming complex. “Janine. I have a job for your soldiers.”