I handed out most of my defensive plates, leaving my coat feeling light and me feeling vulnerable.

  "Plan time," I said, giving away the last plate I'd pulled from my coat. It went to one of the Kylians. "How did you reach the com center?"

  "We went straight through," she said. "Wormed our way in. That tall thing is the transmission tower. There's a bunker beside it. No guards at the door, last time."

  "That makes you experienced," I said. "Knife, give her five men. Your job is to take the com center."

  She recoiled.

  "With five men?" she said. "We had thirty, and two guns, last time. Almost didn't make it anyhow."

  "You'll have five, and one gun," I said, handing her Geir's Chimer. No spare mag. We’d lost that in the bunker fire. "You'll also have a mage on overwatch, and a full war going on."

  "Hopefully," she said.

  "Hopefully," I confirmed. "If there's no war among the Syndics, start it yourselves. We need that com center to launch the missiles before we take the ship. All the missiles."

  "Why - oh," the woman said. "Nothing left to shoot at us when we leave."

  "And plenty to take out the cruisers," I said. "Four of them, last I looked."

  The woman didn't seem surprised. The fleet was common knowledge, likely.

  "And if we fail?"

  "Don't fail," I said. "Get to the hauler when you've managed the missiles. That's the rendezvous point. We'll fly it into the desert, pick up the sneaks and diggers. Ready?"

  "No, but I'll go anyhow," the woman said. She knew her chances, and went. Void-loving courageous.

  "Luck," one of the other Kylians said. The Knife merely pointed with economic motions. The bloods he'd chosen crawled over the edge of the dell, following the Kylian across empty sand. I realized I still hadn't asked her name.

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  The small strike force disappeared in the pre-dawn shadows.

  If anyone did a thorough scan, they'd stand out like plasma arcs on your hull. I was betting that whomever was watching the sensor domes was watching the other clans, rather than the desert. Keep your enemies close and all that. After all, who'd be stupid to storm City when all the Syndics were readying for a major hunt?

  We were, was the answer. And we'd better succeed.

  "I need another two teams," I said. "Three men or so, to take down lone Syndics and targets of opportunity."

  "Long shot," the Knife said. "They won't have guns."

  "They'll get guns," I said. "We can't shoot from one point only. We need it to seem like there's major fighting all over."

  "Volunteers?" the Knife said.

  No one moved. The Knife waited a moment longer.

  "Cor?" he said.

  "Crud," the man he'd spoken to replied. "Yeah, I'll go. But if we make it, you'll owe me dinner. Boiled rice. With chicken, and hot peanut sauce."

  "And beer," another voice chimed in from the shadows.

  "If we make it through, I'll get you so much beer you can drown in it," the Knife promised, and I silently agreed. When we got off Remba, each of the bloods would get as much food as they could stomach. And then some.

  Everyone would. My stomach growled, the burn of acid driven by hunger hot in my throat.

  Moments later, the departing teams were shadows across the desert. No one blew up, no one got electrocuted by the barbed wires strung out around the sensors. It might have been the perfect time to attack, like the Knife said.

  "What's your part?" he said.

  I could feel the others listening. No one had asked. They'd come with us believing in the Knife, and by extension, in me.

  A small force. The Knife. Hao. Me. Two Kylians. Four bloods.

  "We get as close as possible," I said. "The closer I am, the easier the shots. We blow up the Void Orb armory. I know where that is. Shoot up their fusion core. That should start a great, big fire."

  "A great, big glowing fire," Hao said.

  "We won't get close," I said. "The wind is blowing from the west. Any radioactivity will blow away from us."

  "And then," one of the bloods said.

  "And then we take down the Red Ravens. Fire on their quadcopters, make them drop very visibly. There's a great deal of paranoia in City. We'll help it along. With luck, they'll own one of the cruisers and call it down to shoot up the Orbs. Or the Void Breath Brotherhood. More likely the Breaths will shoot up everyone else if they get the chance. We take advantage of that. Get the hauler, get the Bucket, fly."

  "Lots of ifs in that plan," the Knife said.

  "If you've got a better one, I'm listening," I said.

  "Depends," he said. "You wouldn't be able to shoot all the Syndicates with your fancy rifle?"

  "Not even if I burned all of our minds, and iced half the life on the planet," I said. "Magic has a high cost."

  He grinned.

  "That's the reason we've got steel," he said, patting the scabbard on his hip. "Now what, commander?"

  "Let’s crawl," I said.

  This time, there were no objections.