Sixteen
Sithe
I stride through the corridors to the cargo bay.
Yes, I know exactly where I’m going.
And I’m sore, and not thinking well. It’s been too long since I’ve executed proper orders, and all the mantras in the Arsenal are not calming me right now. My blades are sore in my bones. They’ve been spooled out too far, and the skin is loose around them as if there isn’t a way to get them seated again.
The corridors are oddly clear.
They know I’m coming.
I should do this differently, but I don’t have time.
Catarine doesn’t have time.
I already wasted too long in the science office.
Striding into the trap just to watch the barbed teeth snap shut is not an effective strategy.
And yet.
Here I am, moving purposefully to my destination.
The distant door opens, and the engineer I me
