Ellis gestured toward the side wall. Epyc Ro stepped toward it until her eyes adjusted. She finally saw the outline of a door, its frame recessed into the wall so smooth it nearly disappeared. Epyc Ro had walked by it without notice. No air passed around it, a complete seal. Camouflage was its security. Bringing her talon to bear, she scanned the room for heat signatures. With a nod, she called over Chandra. The comms specialist removed the glove from her hand, revealing data ports as fingers. She jacked into the lock. Her eyes rolled back into her skull. Her eyelids fluttered. The lock released the door.

Epyc Ro entered what could have been a cell. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness with a blink. The walls shimmered in the dim lighting. A dull glint refracted the light. She leaned in for closer inspection. Scratches etched the walls; thick nails had scraped against them. Hundreds of them. A history of hands that had scrabbled against the wall, attempting to claw their way to freedom. Or in a desperate escape from something. She spared a glance at Ellis’s hands, noting the heavy nails that shielded their fingertips, and wondered how many of their people had spent time in this room.

“All prisoners must have been brought back here once the CO/IN scrubbed all battlefields of equipment and bodies.” Epyc Ro slowly paced the room. Her light explored every surface to gather readings to analyze later.

“Like ants coming back for their own.” Robin stalked the perimeter of the room opposite her. “Except not just their own. All bodies.”

“Forensic study?” Epyc Ro asked.

“That’d be my guess.” Robin shook her head, half-disgusted. “They’re thorough.”

“That’s one word, I suppose.” Epyc Ro’s scanner flashed. A small patrol headed their way. “We’re not shadows anymore.”

“Company?” Robin asked.

“Ten meters out.”

“How many?”

“Five. In patrol pattern. I don’t think the facility knows we’re here. This may be a standard sweep. If possible, we need to maintain … discretion.”

“Do we need backup?” Ellis pressed themselves against the wall flanking the door.

“Nah, I can handle light work.” Setting her Busta down, Robin cracked her knuckles. “You know the cardinal rule: talk shit, get hit.”