Here’s what we know,” Commander Marechal said.

They were all huddled together beneath a tent in the center of the camp. Rain battered against the fabric, distorting the camouflage patterns, and blew in sideways through the flaps. The air was hot and muggy, and Dorian could barely breathe. He actually found himself missing the dry, sweltering prairies where they had done their training.

A hologram flickered on above everyone’s heads, showing the map of Brume-sur-Mer. Dorian sighed. So they didn’t know much.

“The images we’ve managed to retrieve haven’t been entirely clear,” Commander Marechal said, striding back and forth in the holo light. “But combined with the reports that Beta Team and Gamma Team have brought back, they—”

Victor gave a huff of displeasure. Gamma Team had been sent in after he’d brought back the intel about the drilling site. Both Commander Marechal and Owen had refused to let him go. They’d refused to let any of them go, in fact. Owen said there was no need to endanger them; their expertise had already been put to good use.

“—show that the Covenant, using a Type-47A excavation platform, or Scarab, have uncovered an encased object about four meters below the surface. They are currently attempting to break through the encasement, as best as we can tell. Farhi?”

A short, muscled woman stood up and turned toward the crowd. Alisa Farhi. She’d been the one to run up to the site during reconnaissance, blasting Covenant soldiers left and right, just so she could stick her head over the edge of the drill hole and see what she could. At least, that was the story according to Caird and Dubois, a couple of Meridian marines from Port Moyne who used to go to the same shows Dorian did, back before the invasion.

Dorian wasn’t sure he believed their story, but judging from the scowl on Victor’s face, he almost certainly did. Dorian only hoped Victor wouldn’t try to pull the same thing the next time they were out reconnoitering the service tunnels.

Farhi stood with her feet planted, her fists jabbed into her hips. “From what I could tell,” she said, “the artifact was about half a meter by half a meter—that’s including the encasement, which didn’t look like any material I’ve ever seen before. Not Covenant, certainly not human.”

A soft murmuring from the crowd. Owen held up one hand.

“It looked a bit like obsidian,” she continued. “But that energy beam the Covies had pointed at it wasn’t doing much. Not melting it, not shattering it. Nothing. And it was a pretty concentrated beam.”

“That’s good news,” Mousseau said to the crowd. “Buys us some time to bring down that energy shield covering the drill site.”

More murmuring.

“What I want, though,” Commander Marechal said as Farhi took her seat again, “is to buy us even more time. What that means is take out their setup, then draw them away, see if we can get in and extract that thing ourselves. Get it out of their reach.”

“Permission to speak, sir!” someone shouted.

Commander Marechal sighed. “Granted.”

“What makes you think we can move it?” Dorian recognized the speaker; it was Corbett, one of the few UNSC marines in the group. “The Covies aren’t moving it. If they can’t move it, how will we?”

“The Covenant want what’s inside.” This from Vicente, the medic, who, Dorian had gathered, had actually been a nurse before he’d enlisted with the Meridian militia forces one year ago. “So that’s what they’re focusing on. That doesn’t mean the encased object can’t be moved.”

“Sure, it’s not big,” Dubois called out, “but who the hell knows how heavy it is? Farhi said it herself—she didn’t know what material it was made of.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Farhi said.

Dubois grinned flirtatiously at her, which she steadfastly ignored. Caird cackled beside him.

“Enough,” said Commander Marechal. “Yes, there is concern that we won’t be able to move the object. Although I’ll remind you all we do have a Spartan.” He nodded at Owen, who was standing off to the side, as usual. “Also, our primary purpose here is to prevent the Covenant from reaching the artifact at all. Sabotaging their excavation site will achieve that objective. So that’s what we’re doing.”

More murmuring, but this time Commander Marechal didn’t motion for anyone to quiet down, just stepped back and let them talk. Evie and Saskia both twisted around in their seats and looked at Dorian.

“What do you think it is?” Evie said. “If it’s only half a meter square? I mean, that’s something we could carry.”

“If it’s not heavy,” Dorian said. “I mean, Dubois is right about that.”

“First time he’s right about something,” Caird said, and she and Dorian high-fived over their chairs.

“There’s no way we’re going to draw them all off the site,” Saskia said. “I feel the commander is planning something else. Owen too.”

Dorian considered this.

“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing,” Victor said.

“That’s not what you said when he didn’t let you go with Gamma Team,” Evie said.

Victor glared at her. Dorian had to smother a laugh. The last thing he needed was Victor trying to kick his ass once the briefing was over.

“I doubt any of it matters,” Saskia said—glumly, Dorian thought. “You know we’re just going to have to stay behind for this one.”

“Seriously,” Victor said.

The four of them looked at one another. Dorian had to admit that he was starting to see where Victor was coming from. Ten weeks at Tuomi Base under intense, accelerated training, and so far he hadn’t done anything on Meridian but study some maps and explain the service tunnels. Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to go down himself? He was the one who had used the tunnels before the invasion. Sparingly, but he had used them.

But then Owen gave a shout, calling for attention. The voices fell silent. Everyone turned to look at him.

“As Commander Marechal mentioned, we want to act fast,” he said. “So I’ll be taking in an experienced team to help with the sabotage.”

Victor rolled his eyes.

“Blue squadron, Green squadron—you’ll be backup. You’ll be keeping the Covenant off our tails.”

A whoop went up from the two squadrons, their members scattered across the crowd. Caird was part of Blue squadron, and she slapped Dorian on the shoulder. “Better luck next time, kid,” she said.

“You are literally one year older than me,” Dorian said.

“Who’s the lucky team?” yelled Rees.

Owen gave a small, stiff smile. That much was the same at least.

“Our latest arrivals,” he said, “Local Team.” And he gestured, pointing straight at Dorian. At all of them. Dorian blinked as the rest of the militia turned toward him. Dubois gave him a big grin and a thumbs-up, and Caird feigned surprise, to which Dorian replied, “Better luck next time, kid.”

“Someone’s salty.” She laughed.

The rest of the militia wasn’t in as high of spirits, though. Their expressions were stony and unreadable, and Valois, that private who was always hassling Victor, actually looked angry.

“These four successfully sabotaged a Covenant drill site before,” Owen said. “They can do it again. You four”—he nodded at them—“meet me at the Command tent. The rest of you—get back to work.”

Dorian thought there would be some mass protest—the militia wasn’t about to put this assignment in the hands of a bunch of teenagers. Because, despite his joking around with Caird, that’s what he was. That’s what all four of them were. Sometimes, it was easy to forget, after everything he’d seen. After everything he’d done.

But no one said a word.

“Thank you!” Victor cried when Owen stepped into the Command tent twenty minutes later. “I knew you hadn’t given up on us.”

Owen gave Victor an amused look. “Let’s not forget protocol.”

“Oh, right.” Victor straightened his spine and saluted. “Sir, permission to—”

“At ease. Granted.” Owen waved one hand. He was smiling again. Was that a joke? Dorian couldn’t be sure. He found the notion of Owen joking faintly alarming.

“Thank you!” Victor said again.

“It is nice to feel like we have a purpose,” Saskia added shyly.

“You always had a purpose.” Owen settled down at the glossy black monitor table that was serving as a command desk. Readings blinked in multicolored rows up and down the glass. “You’re here because you know the terrain.”

“Yeah, but we did all that training—” Victor started.

Evie swatted him on the arm. “We don’t need to have that discussion again,” she said. “We’ve got an assignment. And it’s something we all know we can do.”

Owen nodded. “Exactly. Thank you.”

Evie shot Victor a smug look. This time, Dorian didn’t bother to hide his laughter. Her gaze swept back over to him, and she gave him a wide, bright smile.

“We need to act quickly,” Owen said. “We’re heading out at nightfall.”

This sobered Dorian fast enough. Looked like it did Evie too.

“Nightfall?” Saskia said. “That’s in like an hour. Are you sure?”

“You’ve done this before,” Owen said. “Our basic plan’s going to be the same. We’ll have better explosives this time around, though. No offense intended, Dorian.”

Dorian shrugged.

“We’ll be using skinners, specifically,” Owen said.

Saskia let out a low whistle. “So this time around’s also going to be more dangerous.”

“Of course it is.” Owen looked at Victor. “That’s why you had the training.”

Victor said nothing.

“What exactly are skinners?” Evie asked. “How are they more dangerous?”

“They’re more volatile,” Saskia said. “They can set off a lot more easily. So if we’re placing them by hand—”

“Then you’ll need a gentle touch,” Owen finished. “But their volatility makes them more powerful, and that’s what we want here. We want to make sure the drill equipment is completely demolished, and if there’s a chance the skinners can get through the encasement, well, that’s a bonus. Aside from the Scarab, they don’t have a big array out here; they’ll have to wait for backup equipment before they can continue.”

“And then we can destroy that too,” Victor said with a grin.

“That is the general plan, yes. Keep them distracted with that while we figure out a way to secure the artifact for ONI.” Owen nodded.

Saskia frowned. “Secure the artifact? With skinners? Aren’t you afraid that they’ll blow it to pieces?”

“It’s a concern, yes. But we’re going against a Scarab. It’s much bigger and much more dangerous than the Locust we took down before. And as Commander Marechal said, our primary focus is on preventing the Covenant from accessing the artifact. If we can get it to ONI intact, so much the better. But even a fragment of it could be useful.”

Owen turned to the rest of the group. “But we’re jumping ahead. Right now we need to focus on the plan tonight. The site is more secure than the one we blew up the first time, but that’s why we’ve got Green and Blue out there clearing a path for us. Once they engage the Covenant in fire, we’ll set the explosives, then clear out.”

“Who’ll get to do the honors?” Dorian asked, remembering the first explosion, how the whole world went bright as a supernova after he pressed the detonator. He had felt as if the light was shining straight through to his bones.

“You all will,” Owen said. “The explosives are wired to separate detonators. Helps with stability.”

Dorian nodded.

“And that’s the real reason I brought you in here,” Owen said, standing up, his armor gleaming in the thin lights hanging from tent poles. “I want to make sure you know how these damn things work.”

He reached under the desk where he’d been sitting and pulled out a lockbox, red warning lights blinking in a ring around the rim. Dorian recognized the design from other lockboxes he’d seen at Tuomi Base. They were designed to store weapons.

Owen pressed his gloved hand into an indentation in the side of the lockbox. The lights shimmered, blinked, turned green. The lid popped open. Dorian found himself holding his breath, as if just opening the box would detonate the skinner.

“So have you used one of these before?” Victor said suddenly. It took Dorian a moment to realize he was talking to Saskia, who laughed in response.

“Are you kidding?” she said. “My parents wouldn’t have kept anything this dangerous in the house. They weren’t stupid, just—” She stopped.

Just criminals, Dorian thought, then immediately felt bad about it. He didn’t know that for sure. But Saskia had certainly implied some things.

“That was a wise decision on their part,” Owen said, pulling out a long, thin tube that glowed with a harsh frozen light against the metal of his glove. He set it down gently on the table. “Do not touch it.”

No one moved. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.

Owen reached back into the lockbox and pulled out a small black cube. “The detonators are physical,” he said. “We won’t be using comm pads like before. Don’t want to risk the enemy hacking into them.” He set the detonator beside the skinner, and they sat there like a still life.

“The detonator won’t work until the skinner has been activated,” Owen said. “That’s the dangerous part, because if you activate incorrectly, you risk setting the explosive off prematurely.”

Dorian shivered.

“We also have to ensure we detonate all of them at once to bring the shield down,” Owen continued, “which means we have to ensure they are activated well before the detonation point. There is, I’m afraid, a lot that can go wrong with the skinners.”

He looked up at them then. “Do you understand?”

There was a round of yes, sir’s. Even Dorian joined in, his voice shuddery.

“Good.” Owen picked up the skinner again, pressing the tube between his palms. “Activation is simple. You just—”

He exerted a microscopic bit of pressure and something inside the tube clicked into place. The white light brightened and began to turn a pale rosy-pink and then red.

“I have to be more careful than you,” he said, setting the skinner back on the table. “They’re designed so that normal human strength can’t shatter them. But you still need to take caution.” He picked up the detonator and rotated it to reveal a flat disk of red light—the same light that was currently emanating from the explosive. “This wasn’t lit up earlier. It indicates that the skinner is ready. Once we’re clear, you just press in.”

Dorian nodded silently. Victor and Evie both muttered another “Yes, sir.”

Saskia just stared at the skinner glowing on the table.

“What are you going to do with it now?” she said. “They can’t be deactivated.”

Owen smiled. “Yes, that is true. Fortunately, we’re about to launch a diversion, aren’t we?”

A pause as they all considered this. Dorian’s chest felt tight. It was the first time he’d be leaving the camp since they’d arrived here.

“Suit up,” Owen said. “We’re heading out in fifty minutes. Dismissed.”