Daughter of Nox

Chapter Twenty

They emerged from the jumble of hallways into a room like the one they'd started in. Ministry soldiers stood in one corner of the room, while another larger group of maybe ten others stood in a corner opposite them.

Freya's eyes searched the walls and ceiling. This place wasn't like the other room. It practically was the other room. If it weren't for the new people in the corner, she'd have thought the sergeant had taken looping through the complex.

"Group!" the sergeant's voice boomed as he came to a halt in the center of the room. "On me!"

The group of soldiers moved quickly, while the other group milled about, looking at each other as if unsure about what to do.

"On me," he said again. "It means to move your sorry selves here. Now!"

This got them moving. Freya looked them over as they came. They looked about her own age–sixteen or seventeen at most–and given the anxious looks on all their faces, Freya thought they felt about as comfortable here as she did.

"Freya?" one of the newcomers said, and Freya felt her heart lift as she recognized the voice.

"Etta!"

Freya rushed forward, just as Etta did the same. They wrapped their arms around each other as they met.

"What the flaming hell is happening?" Freya said, standing back from her. She lowered her voice. "And who are all these other people?"

"Novices," Etta said. "Here for Day Zero, same as us."

Freya felt like a fool for even asking. Of course they were Novices.

Etta threw a furtive glance at the sergeant. "None of the soldiers will tell us what's happening."

Freya couldn't help but notice the venom in Etta's stare. Apparently, he was as popular with Etta as he was with Freya.

"They said the Separatists attacked Nox," Freya said. "But that's all I know. They just brought me here after I crashed."

"Crashed?" Etta drew air in quickly. "How? What happened?"

The answer perched on Freya's lips when the sergeant cut her off.

"Let's play catch up another time, shall we? This mission is time sensitive, people."

Freya's heart leapt into her throat. Mission? What mission?

She squeezed Etta's hand. "We'll talk after."

The look on Etta's face told Freya exactly what she thought of this idea, but she followed Freya's lead.

The sergeant waited until every set of eyes focused on him before he began.

"As you already know, Separatist forces have launched a global offensive on Nox."

The group exchanged worried looks as the sergeant continued. Freya gathered from the electric tension sparking through the Novices that this news may have been suspected but not confirmed.

"Power is down planet-wide, so there's no way to know what's happening outside Academy. What we do know is that with the MinNet down there's no way to call in reinforcements from the fleet. Academy Command is organizing what forces we have here to repel the Separatists here."

"Why?"

Freya's head swung around to see who'd spoken, and saw a boy lingering near the back of the group of newcomers. He held a hand in the air as if asking the teacher a question.

"Excuse me?" the sergeant said.

"I asked, why," the boy said again, dropping his hand and pushing a strand of black hair from his face. "Why are the Separatists attacking Academy? There's nothing here for them to gain."

The sergeant narrowed his eyes at him. "How in the flaming hell should I know? Our job isn't to figure out why they're attacking, it's to find them and kill them. Understood?"

The boy folded his arms across his chest. His sharp features took on a look of haughty annoyance, but he stayed quiet.

"Any other questions?" the sergeant said.

When everyone stayed quiet, he continued.

"The Separatists are entrenched all over the grounds, and the Academy garrison too small to do anything about it. Command has ordered an offensive using all available resources."

He smiled in a way that reminded Freya too much of Hela. "That's where you fit in."

It didn't take long for the meaning of the sergeant's words to settle in. Concerned whispers rose from the group.

"Us?" the boy from before spoke up, disbelief painted across his face. "As in all of us standing here right now?"

"As in all of you standing here right now," the sergeant said.

Freya couldn't help but notice a tone of sadistic pleasure in his voice.

"Well I'm not going." The boy thrust his chin out defiantly. "You can send the rest of these vapor brains on whatever mission you want, but I'm staying here until my mother's men come for me."

The sergeant stared down his nose at the boy. "Are you refusing an order?"

Freya watched as the three soldiers who, until now had been lingering near the back of the group, all took one step toward the boy. The boy seemed to notice it as well.

"You can't make me go," he said, the color all but drained form his face. "My mother is a First Marshall. She'd never allow this to happen if she were here."

At this, the sergeant and the soldiers burst into laughter so loud that Freya thought the building might collapse around them. The boy cringed at the sound.

"You're cute, little Founder," the sergeant said wiping away tears of laughter. "Tell me, do you see your mother here?"

The boy seemed to shrink at the question. "No."

The sergeant cupped a hand behind his ear. "Sorry?"

"No," he said, a little louder.

"Good of you to finally notice. Now," He turned his attention to the rest of them, "the Separatists hold the Academy armory. Your mission is to take it back."

"With what?" a girl said behind Etta and Freya said. "None of us have any guns."

Grumbled assent rose from the group. Apparently, this fact had occurred to all of them.

"There's enough rifles for all of you," the sergeant told her.

"Where are the other soldiers who brought me here?" a brown-skinned girl with long dreadlocks spoke up. "When do we meet with them?"

"Other soldiers?" the sergeant said with a smirk. "My people have their own missions. The only ones heading out on this mission are the Novices standing in this room."

"Just us?" Etta said. "But if you're not coming then who's in charge?"

Freya felt her face burn as she saw the sergeant's eyes fall on her. The dark smirk snuck onto his lips as he raised an arm and pointed to her.

"She is."