Battle Born

by Cassandra Rose Clarke

“They tend to forget about me,” she said. “Especially when things start to get—more questionably legal. Before we moved to Brume-sur-Mer, they actually left me alone for like three months. Never sent anyone to check on me.”

  A shadow slid across Owen’s face. “You think your team upstairs will just forget about you too?”

  Saskia looked at the far wall.

  “You saved Evie’s life before you even were a team,” Owen said. “You belong here more than you belong with your parents.”

  He strode across the hallway and put a hand on her shoulder. Saskia looked up at him, on the verge of tears.

  “I would have died if you hadn’t treated those injuries,” he said softly. “You saved my life.” He paused. “And there aren’t many people who can say that.”

  Saskia blushed. She looked down at the floor.

  Owen crouched down until they were eye-to-eye. He stared at her, his gaze piercing. She couldn’t find it in herself to look away.

  “I was a war orphan,” he said. “ONI found me on Jericho VII, eating bugs in the countryside. Half the planet had been glassed. My parents had been in town when it happened.”

  Saskia pulled back. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “I lost my family,” he said, “but I was given a new one. Your parents—they might have left you here. But you have a new family now. They’re upstairs.” He jerked his head up. “And you’ve been lying to them for the past week.”

  Saskia sighed, dropped her head back against the wall. Owen straightened up.

  “What are you going to do?” he said.

  “They’re going to kill me.”

  “No, they’re not.”

  Saskia looked down at her hands. Her thoughts thrummed. Were Victor and Evie and Dorian really her family? Maybe. She certainly couldn’t imagine racing through the woods to warn her parents about an impending Covenant attack. Something in her chest tightened. She took a deep breath.

  “They still have their families,” she murmured. “Down in the shelter.”

  “You have more ties to those people in the shelter than you think you do,” Owen said. “You aren’t your parents. You didn’t abandon this town to save your own skin the minute the Covenant showed up.”

  She lifted her gaze to him. She realized he was right.

  Her parents had ditched her so they wouldn’t go to jail. But she wasn’t like them.

  “Let’s go upstairs.” Owen held out one hand, thick from his armor’s gloves. Saskia took it and let him lead her back up the stairs, into the bright kitchen. The voices of the others spilled in from the dining room. Still arguing, but there was a lightness to it. A familiarity.

  Owen nodded at her. Saskia stepped into the dining room, flush with rosy light from the chandelier. The others didn’t pay her any attention, just continued with their argument. They were talking about some holo-film, she realized, not fighting about the invasion or the rescue or anything related to the Covenant. For a moment, they may as well have been in the high school cafeteria.

  But then Owen clanked into the dining room, and everyone fell silent.

  “Saskia has something to tell you,” he said.

  The others looked back at her, eyes wide with expectation. She took a deep breath. Easiest to just spit it out.

  “I have weapons,” she said.

  Silence. Evie frowned, Dorian narrowed his eyes. Victor was the first to speak.

  “What do you mean?”

  Saskia glanced at Owen, hoping he could give her some strength. But he just stared at her with his flat expression, his dark eyes.

  “My parents,” Saskia started. She looked at the window. Still raining. She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained for so long. “There’s a compartment in the safe room. It’s locked. We’ll have to hack in—”

  Dorian leaned over the table. “Are you saying you’ve had weapons all this time? And you didn’t tell us about them?” He laughed hoarsely. “Why not?”

  Saskia shrugged hopelessly. “They’re prototypes,” she said. “And they might not be, um, totally legal. I guess I didn’t—” I didn’t trust you. But the words dissolved on her tongue. “I was being stupid,” she finally said. “And paranoid. And then it had gone too long without telling you, and—” She flung her arms out.

  “We have had a stash of prototype weapons this entire time?” squawked Victor.

  “It’s not like we really needed them,” Evie said. Saskia gave her a thankful look.

  “Of course we needed them!”

  “You got your hands on Covenant weapons,” Owen said. “Dorian had the explosives at his house. You were fine.”

  “But we need weapons now,” Saskia said, her face hot. “If we’re going to get people out of the shelter and take out that shield. I couldn’t—I had to tell you. If you hate me, it’s fine. But we have the weapons.” She slumped against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “I mean, once we break the lock.”

  “You sure you’re not keeping the password from us too?” Victor asked.

  Saskia glared at him, and he turned away, sheepish.

  “Evie, I bet you could break into the lock,” Saskia said. “It’s not that complicated.”

  “I’ll give it a shot.” Evie stood up. The boys were both scowling. Evie rolled her eyes.

  “You want to save your families or not?” she said. “We’re running out of time. Saskia didn’t want to tell us about the weapons. Big deal. It’s not like any of us had been friends with her before this all started. Not even you, Victor.”

  Victor’s cheeks reddened. “C’mon, Evie.”

  “He had a crush on you,” Evie told Saskia. “Back before the invasion.”

  “What the hell?” shouted Victor.

  Dorian started laughing.

  Saskia looked at Victor, who was burying his face in his hands. She had to laugh too, although she immediately slapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  “That’s why he’s been so crummy to you,” Evie said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Couldn’t handle his feelings.”

  “Evie, I will kill you!”

  Dorian leaned sideways on his chair, still laughing.

  “It’s not that funny,” Saskia said.

  “I know.” Dorian wiped at his eyes. “It’s just so—high school bullcrap, you know?” His laugh trickled away, and he slapped a hand on Victor’s back. “Cheer up, man. I can show you how to talk to girls sometime if you want.”

  “Shut up!” Victor slid down in his chair. For a moment, his eyes flicked over to Saskia, and she smiled at him. He’d been the one she’d thought trusted her the least. She supposed he’d just been overcompensating.

  Saskia wasn’t sure she would ever understand boys.

  “Enough,” Owen said. “Evie, Saskia, you two go figure out the lock. Gentlemen.” He looked at Dorian and Victor, who both straightened their spines, although Dorian had to smother another laugh. “We’re going to work out a strategy now that we know the lay of the land.” He clapped his hands together once, and Evie ducked out of the dining room. Saskia glanced over her shoulder at Victor one last time. He wasn’t looking at her. But Owen was.

  He nodded. Saskia knew what that nod meant.

  Good job.

  “Don’t let Victor get to you,” Evie said. She was sitting in front of the door leading to the prototype room, a snaky wire connecting her comm pad to the lock. They hadn’t had much luck with it yet.

  “What do you mean?” Saskia sat cross-legged next to her, watching the readouts on the holo-projection.

  “He’s never had a girlfriend before.” Evie’s finger tapped against her comm pad screen. “I’m not sure he even knows how to talk to a girl that isn’t me.” She laughed. “Seeing you all the time, it was too much for him to handle.”

  Saskia smiled. “He seemed nice until he started accusing me of not wanting to save people in the shelter.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “Sounds like Victor. He’ll figure it out som
eday.” She sighed. “God! This would be so much easier with my computer.”

  “You can borrow mine.”

  Evie shook her head. “Doesn’t have the right software on it. I mean—” She glanced at Saskia sideways. “I’m guessing you don’t have JLM installed.”

  Saskia laughed. “You would be correct.”

  “It’s fine.” Evie tap-tap-tapped on her screen. “Ah! Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Something in the lock clicked. The red light switched off.

  “Whoa,” Saskia said. “Did you get it?”

  “Not yet.” Evie tapped and code flew past on the holo-screen. “Try now.”

  Saskia pressed her hand against the lock. Nothing happened. She tried to push on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Nope,” she said. “Not opening.”

  “Hmm.” Evie’s forehead scrunched up in concentration. Holo-light flashed off the walls. “Try now.”

  Saskia reached out and touched the lock. This time, it lit up bright green, and there was the hiss-whirr of the door pulling open.

  “You got it!” Saskia cried, jumping to her feet. “That was fast. You’re freaking amazing.”

  “It was actually that Sundered Legion craft that gave me the idea.” Evie unfolded her legs, and Saskia held out her hand to help her. “I mean, it’s a DNA lock, so why shouldn’t it recognize your DNA? I just had to expand the parameters until it recognized you.”

  “Brilliant,” Saskia said. She felt more at ease with Evie than she had before, Evie being the only one who hadn’t gotten mad about the whole keeping-unnecessary-secrets thing.

  “So what kind of weapons are in here, exactly?” Evie asked.

  Saskia frowned. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I know this is where they kept all their prototypes because they were always taking clients down here, but I don’t really know the specifics or anything.”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Evie said, pushing the door open.

  The light in the room was pale and sharp and cold. It reflected off the weapons resting on the glass shelves. Everything was unfinished and looked like raw steel, dramatic in the light.

  “Wow,” breathed Evie.

  Saskia drifted forward. The last time she’d been in the room was four months ago, when her dad had been out of town and her mom asked her to meet with some clients that night, a pair of tall, angular men who never smiled. They had come down to the room after dinner, pulled a grenade launcher off the shelf, and gone out into the backyard to demonstrate it.

  That grenade launcher was gone now. It had been replaced by a pair of complicated-looking pistols and a large rifle that vaguely looked like a pair of long, steel blocks connected to a grip.

  “I’m going to tell the others we got in,” Evie said, interrupting Saskia’s thoughts. “You grab anything that looks good and meet me upstairs. We’ve got to figure out how all this stuff works.”

  Saskia nodded. Evie vanished into the safe room, and Saskia turned back to the shelves. She knew, from eavesdropping on conversations, that CDS had reversed-engineered some Covenant technology. She wondered how many of these weapons were energy based, rather than ballistic. The grenade launcher had been, in her mother’s words, “old-fashioned.” The clients were only interested in human tech, she’d said later.

  Saskia picked up the twin-block rifle. It weighed more than she expected. She turned it over in her hands, looking at the two long blocks that seemed to represent the weapon’s barrel—in between were studs that looked like teeth.

  Footsteps thudded overhead. The others, coming down to see what they’d found.

  She curled her fingers around the grip, and instantly felt the weapon surge with power, as a series of targeting displays projected around the rifle’s stock. Saskia yelped and dropped it. The displays vanished. The weapon looked cold and dead again.

  She knelt down to pick it up, this time gingerly.

  “Railgun,” Owen said.

  Saskia glanced at him over her shoulder. “Stop sneaking up on me.”

  He actually smiled at that. “We need to work on your situational awareness.” He nodded at the rifle. “It’s a recoilless carbine. Or, at least, a CDS version of it. I thought only Acheron Security made these. Looks like I was wrong.” He took the weapon from her and activated its displays, examining the weapon closely.

  “Have you used one before?” Saskia asked.

  “Once. Against a battle lance of Sangheili. You know about Elites?”

  “The warrior class, right?” Saskia smiled a little. “Some use energy swords that can cut through solid steel? That’s what they taught us in school. Even though all of the Covenant seem to be warriors.”

  “That’s what happens in war,” Owen said.

  “Did it work?” Saskia asked. “Your railgun?”

  “It got the job done,” Owen said. He put the rifle down.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s see what else we’ve got here.”

  Owen dropped a military crate full of weapons at Victor’s feet.

  “You know how to shoot,” he said. “And you worked out how to use the needler without killing yourself. So you’re going to help us figure these things out.” He paused. “Be cautious, however. They’re prototypes, and they might not function as you’d expect.”

  They were on the front porch, rain shimmering around them. It had slowed to a drizzle, and Victor hoped it would stay like that for at least a couple of days. Give a chance for the flooding to recede, buy them some time to open up the shelter.

  He knew he couldn’t operate on hope alone, though.

  The front door slammed. Saskia slipped out with another crate. Victor went still, his face burning. He couldn’t believe that Evie had said that about him liking Saskia. In front of her.

  Saskia didn’t look at him, only set the box down next to Owen. More weapons. Mostly guns.

  “You’re going to work together to get these figured out,” Owen said. “We don’t have time for whatever”—he waved his hand around—“relationship issues you’re having.”

  “We weren’t in a relationship,” Saskia said.

  “Not a romantic one.” Owen pushed the crate of weapons toward them with his boot. “But you were partners. And you’re part of a team. Work it out.”

  He stomped across the porch and went back inside.

  “I guess we should get started.” For the first time, Saskia met Victor’s eye. “I don’t want anyone in the shelter to drown.”

  “I never thought …” Victor’s face flushed.

  Saskia just shrugged. She reached into the box and extracted a long rifle that appeared to have a strange amalgamation of Covenant technology mechanically grafted along the stock and barrel. “I’ve heard this one before,” she said.

  “Heard it?”

  She laughed. A little bitterly, Victor thought. “Yeah, while I was trying to sleep. My parents were showing it to a client. They’d pulled it out before I went to bed.”

  She stepped off the porch, into the glow of the safety lights. Held the rifle up to her shoulder and pointed it toward a clump of trees growing on the far side of the interior.

  “It almost looks like the marksman rifles my sisters were issued.” It was easier to talk about weapons.

  “Yeah, guessing it’s easy to modify existing stuff rather than create it whole cloth. At least, in the beginning.”

  Victor jumped off the porch and held out his hands to her. She gave him the rifle, and he put its butt on his shoulder, the way he had Camila’s marksman rifle, during one of his shooting lessons on the beach. It felt natural, although this weapon was heavier than Camila’s had been. He removed the safety, toggling to a semi-automatic, before giving the weapon a once-over to make sure he was firing it correctly, although given its bizarre, cobbled-together design, it was impossible to know for sure. Once he felt confident enough, he pressed his finger on the trigger. Squeezed.

  A single round jacketed in what appeared to be plasma streaked out
of the rifle with a sudden, echoing crack, nailing one of the trees, which violently exploded into microscopic splinters on impact. The gun jerked up, the kickback stronger than he expected.

  “That’s the sound I remember,” Saskia said.

  “It’s powerful,” Victor said, examining the Covenant tech woven into the weapon. “Do you know what it’s called?”

  “No clue.” Saskia shrugged. “Probably just a string of letters and numbers right now.”

  Victor smiled. Glanced at her. Her hair was damp from the misting rain, her skin dewy in the shield light. Evie was right. He had felt betrayed, thinking Saskia didn’t care about the townspeople. And not just in a normal way, but in, like, a boyfriend way.

  The minute Evie got him alone, she was going to tell him what a creep he was. He could just feel it.

  “Hey,” he said, and Saskia looked at him, her face bland and as expressionless as Owen’s.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She stared at him for a long time. Then she nodded. She didn’t have to say anything else. It was enough.

  Victor set the rifle down at his side. Saskia bounded back up the steps and pulled a pistol-like weapon out of the box.

  “Let’s try this one next,” she said. “They call it a sticky detonator.”

  Victor woke up to the filtered gray light of rainy season daytime. Raindrops pounded against the glass of his window. He sighed. It had been too much to hope for a reprieve from the rain.

  He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Even the dim light felt too bright for him. In the last few days, he thought he’d gotten used to this whole sleep-during-the-day, attack-at-night routine. But for the first time, the light was just—distracting him. It seemed to illuminate all the thoughts in his head, dragging them to the forefront: testing the weapons, Saskia and him silently working out how each prototype functioned. Showing the others. Practicing on trees. He’d fallen asleep earlier with rifle blasts behind his eyelids. But the weapons test made him think of Saskia, and Evie blurting out, He had a crush on you. Dorian almost falling off his seat from laughing.

  The rain. His parents in the shelter. The Covenant boring a hole in the middle of the town.