Our spies might be able to steal maps, but what if the drive is damaged? They say we have years until the Imaia leaves, but will that be sufficient to repair and piece together technology we barely understand?

C. 7 days, 22 hours since the assassination of rebel leadership

Estingai tried her best to keep a handle on her emotions as Aaden and Marjatla went over the casualty report from Nightstone.

"Is there anyone alive that we've found?" she finally snapped.

Marjatla blinked, cheeks coloring. She glanced at Aaden, mouth working silently for a moment, then frowned, giving a small shake of her head.

"No. The Lightforged was… very thorough. Just as you said."

Taking a deep breath, Estingai tucked that away, along with the pit that had gnawed at her insides every day since she'd returned from that base.

"Very well. What about resources? I know there were at least a few crates stored in the caves."

Marjatla's expression brightened at that and Aaden spoke up, nodding.

"It seems you interrupted the Lightforged before it could eliminate the base's resources," Aaden said. "We've recovered enough food and water that we won't have to ration until the next supply tip we get from our mole.”

Estingai nodded. That would put them in a stronger bargaining position with Icevein, as they wouldn’t have as much need for their lowlight farms.

“What about biogems and georaural tech? Mylora's people were always working on something, and they tended to hit the Imaia almost exclusively for georaural supplies other than food and water."

"We found a lot of raw materials, and what we believe are georaurals, but we've yet to test most of them. They're drained, so we loaded them into crates and figured we would test them when we got here."

Aaden's words should have given Estingai some relief, but none came. She'd gained near-priceless resources for her people, but at the cost of so many allies, friends, and even family.

"Take everything from the base," Estingai said. "Clothing, chairs, pipes, everything we can remove without making ourselves known."

"And if the other factions use that as fuel for their rumors about us having something to do with their former leaders' deaths?" Aaden asked.

Estingai shrugged. "We can't control what they say. If they want the resources, they'll have to deal with us."

Marjatla nodded, a bit of a smile on her lips. "Understood."

Estingai's jaw clenched reflexively, knowing what was on the woman's mind. She said nothing, though. The other replacement faction heads would be here any minute and she didn't want to be caught arguing.

Aaden cleared his throat and Estingai glanced at him to find him nodding almost imperceptibly to her left. Following his gaze, she found Uuldina, the replacement Stormswind leader, and Meik'ka, the replacement Icevein leader, walking toward them with two of Estingai's people as their escort. Their own guards and aides would be waiting back near the entrance.

Meik'ka, Tepjo's widow, looked almost eager for some reason, where Uuldina, Kogen's former right hand, bore an unreadable expression as she peered around the base.

They’d chosen to meet in the speeder hangar, a cavernous chamber—less prone to echoes than most after the salvage of dampening materials from Ghostmine—that they’d restricted and camouflaged the entrance to. It was a relatively public place that wouldn’t make the other leaders feel closed in, and would show Uuldina and Meik’ka a Frozen Phantom that continued to run efficiently despite its recent losses. That was in no small part due to Aaden and Marjatla. Estingai could help keep the soldiers busy with work so they didn’t get into trouble and provide words of assurance when needed, but she wouldn’t know where to begin with all the civilian factors of running the base.

When the guards stopped a few paces away, saluting Marjatla and Estingai before heading back to their posts, Estingai took a moment to study the two leaders.

Meik’ka was tall, even for a Natari, with red-orange skin and a large, shaggy mane of black hair. She wore what looked like a traditional wrap—though this was dark grey, no colorful patterns—over the more common rough, armored clothing worn by most in the faction. The outfit worked, but Estingai still thought it a bit impractical. Estingai wore only her armored jacket and pants. Uuldina bore the blue-violet skin common to Juusanariti’i, but her lack of antlers and the black rings on her neck and jaw indicated mixed parentage, as did her slender jaw and full lips.

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Uuldina's expression as she studied them, particularly Estingai, made Estingai want Marjatla to take the lead even more. Marjatla was someone they could understand, and Estingai was not. She recognized the look.

As one of the Knights Reborn, Estingai had always represented strength, and maybe even a bit of hope, but she'd also been the “other”. Someone too far above everyone else, too mystical, or powerful for most people to feel comfortable just talking with. Combat changed that, and she'd gotten along well with most soldiers, but officers and diplomats had never let their guard down with her. Svemakuu had never had a problem with that. He’d always been able to make people show more vulnerability after talking with them for just a short while.

I shouldn’t even be here. I’m no good at this.

Marjatla and Aaden had insisted that her presence would help, however. It would project strength.

And I need to watch these two, just in case.

Estingai drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and had to look away for a moment. Memories of Tepjo and Kogen and their respective guards walking into that underground chamber came to the forefront of Estingai’s mind. She saw them standing around that solitary, plain table, arguing, then working together.

Estingai clenched her teeth, heart pounding.

She saw the Deathknight cut down their guards, remembered their terrified faces as the stones above them cracked, then rained down upon them.

Estingai hadn’t known either of them very well, and she hadn’t liked Tepjo. She still felt responsible.

Raima brought us there to protect them. And I failed.

"Knight Estingai," Uuldina said, inclining her head, "thank you for your invitation."

Estingai blinked, and struggled to school her expression at the awkwardly formal address. She'd known her armored jacket would have an effect, but didn't think it would be that off-putting.

Is it because she has something to hide?

Estingai said nothing, letting Marjatla take the lead as Meik'ka offered a similar greeting.

"We welcome you to Wolfden," Estingai's companion said. "You no doubt have read the report we sent regarding Nightstone?"

Meik'ka blinked, but nodded. "It is disturbing news."

"We've tried to find a silver lining in the catastrophe," Aaden said, voice strained. “Our people are gathering Nightstone’s resources as we recover the bodies for a proper funeral."

Estingai's throat tightened.

We haven't even had one for Svemakuu and Raima yet.

She glanced between Uuldina and Meik'ka.

Have they been able to mourn their leaders?

Estingai didn't know if she would welcome a funeral, even if it felt wrong that almost two weeks had passed without one. People stopped during a funeral. They reflected and tried to comfort themselves in the absence of their loved ones. Tried to find some meaning in their deaths.

That wouldn't work for Estingai. The only comfort she wanted was Svemakuu's embrace. There had been no higher meaning behind having him ripped away from her. If she slowed down enough for a funeral, then she would have time to think about something other than moving forward. That was dangerous. Better to just work herself to exhaustion and pass out into a dreamless sleep.

Estingai pushed the thoughts away, then blinked when she realized the others were looking at her.

"Sorry. I was thinking over some logistical matters. What did you ask?"

Uuldina spoke up. "The report you sent us… did you really kill a Lightforged?"

The initial response that popped into Estingai's head felt too harsh, so she tried to think of what Koruuksi or Svemakuu would say.

She held Uuldina's gaze for a moment, then shrugged. "I thought that would add some color to the report."

Uuldina and Meik'ka stared at her, seeming confused, and Estingai held back a frown, looking to Marjatla for help. Her quip hadn’t been that bad, had it?

Maybe now she'll see I'm no good at this.

The woman took over, turning to logistics and the benefits of allying and moving their people between their different bases to share labor and specialized workers. Aaden made sure to mention their contacts within the Imaia and hint at the specific resources they could acquire that the other faction heads needed, such as chemicals for fertilizer, limestone for filtering water, and the proper metals and materials for creating ammunition and repairing vehicles.

Estingai remained silent, watching the other leaders.

That last bit about their contacts and pooling their resources made them lean in a bit closer, but Uuldina still seemed wary to Estingai. Meik'ka's comments were all pointed toward leadership.

Ah. That’s why. She sees this as an opportunity to take control.

"And how would we decide where the food and tools go once we produce them?" Meik'ka asked. "Will it be on a rotational system, or do you plan to keep control over that since you have Nightstone's resources to bargain with?"

Marjatla and Aaden engaged the other leader, but Estingai ground her teeth, annoyed.

It always comes down to that. No matter that vying for power is what got us into this in the first place.

That never changed, and it made Estingai want to throttle someone.

Taking a deep breath, fists clenched, Estingai tried to think of what Koruuksi would do—tried to find some solution that didn't involve beating someone into submission.

She couldn't.

For a moment, that threatened to break her. They were the ones who could do this sort of thing, not her. If she couldn’t…

No. Svemakuu is gone and I sent Koruuksi off to do something even more important. I can't keep trying to rely on them.

She'd never been able to do things their way, anyway.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said before starting out of the garage and toward her workshop. She'd probably interrupted someone. She didn't care.

What mattered was that she'd thrown them off—she could feel their eyes following her as she left the cavern for one of the smaller tunnels.

She was about to shock them even further.