‘The Phalanx, yes, of course. Rogal Dorn… There is not much time.’

‘Mersadie, it is all right…’

‘No… There is something else… I need… to see him.’

She forced her legs to move. Something was happening, something that she could feel but not understand.

There were doors opening in front of them…

On, on further through the night, through the passages of the Vengeful Spirit to a door…

‘What was that?’ she heard herself say, as the glow-globes flickered in their settings.

‘Something is happening,’ said Loken, but his voice seemed further away now, ‘system-wide anomalies. There is something wrong with the vox…’

She had been here before, in these corridors before, carrying memories… images spooled in her head… blood and betrayal and the truth… What had she forgotten?

The lights spluttered again. She could see a set of doors in front of her. She had been here before, with Keeler, with Garro.

‘What is that?’ growled one of the Imperial Fists. There was a noise, a hissing, like static, like the whisper of wind blowing through dry valleys. Like a voice…

Dorn’s sanctuary… the Phalanx… She had been here before…

The lights blinked red.

‘What is happening?’ asked Loken.

‘Full alert,’ replied one of the Huscarls. ‘Something is happening in the Inner System Gulf…’

The doors were opening in front of them…

‘We need to get you secured,’ said one of the Imperial Fists.

‘I need to see Lord Dorn…’ she mumbled. ‘I need to…’

‘There is someone speaking on the vox…’ said another of the Huscarls.

The shove of Maggard’s hand on her back, pushing her through the door.

‘Greetings, Mersadie Oliton,’ said Maloghurst, looking up at her. His eyes were the eyes of a wolf…

Loken had stopped moving suddenly. She looked at him blinking.

‘It sounds like a voice,’ he said, ‘trying to break through the interference.’

The sound was hissing in her ears… rising and falling…

‘S… here…’

‘Dorn…’ she gasped, ‘I need to see Rogal Dorn now!’

‘Sam… is…’

‘That sound, that voice,’ he said. ‘I have heard that voice before…’

‘Sa… mu… is…’

Loken’s gun was in his hand. The Huscarls were moving, turning; shadows were spreading up the wall.

Everything was distant, like something happening on a pict screen hung just in front of her face. There was someone behind her. Just behind her. A shadow…

‘He is here.’

Loken snapped around to look at her.

‘What did you say?’

She shrugged, feeling more words coming to her tongue. Her muscles were moving but she was not moving them.

‘Samus is here,’ she said, and backhanded Loken into the wall. He struck it with a sound of shearing ceramite.

Mersadie looked at her hand. It was red.

Guns roared around her. Red fire. Blinking. Red on her hand.

She tried to take a step, put her hand out and fell…

A thin hand caught her arm, steadied her.

‘That’s it. You are all right. I have you.’