The reality of the four-day deadline—and the proximity of the Syndicate deal—sent a wave of cold urgency through the psychic bond. Elias and Lyra had to cross the vast breadth of Aerthos, from the desolate Outer Wastes back toward the high, icy Northern Peaks, the traditional cradle of Ascendant power.
Master Tarius, though physically weak, used the last of his energy to scry the location of their original pilot, Joran. "He has flown closer, worried about his final payment. He is two hours northwest, near the forgotten refueling station."
Leaving Tarius and the Temple, Elias and Lyra knew they needed more than the slow Sand-Skiff. They needed speed, elevation, and the ability to fight off the impending Sky-Guard interceptors.
"The refueling station," Lyra projected, walking quickly back toward the Skiff. It services the Solstus patrol airships. It will be lightly guarded, but heavily equipped.
"An airship, then," Elias confirmed grimly. "We steal a Sky-Guard interceptor. It's the fastest way, but the risk of identification is absolute."
We are already committed to treason on a planetary scale, Elias, Lyra projected, her mental voice steady. Risk is just logistics now.
They sped across the sands in Joran's Skiff, intercepting him near the abandoned Aether pipeline station. Joran, relieved to see Elias alive and ready to pay, quickly took the second half of his gold. Elias, ensuring the Smuggler wouldn't be followed, disabled Joran's Skiff engine.
"You're grounded for two days, Joran," Elias informed him. "Don't move. You'll be safer here than running. We are attracting powerful heat."
The Solstus Refueling Station was a small, high-tech hub built atop a cliff overlooking the Wastes. It was manned by a skeleton crew of four Sky-Guard officers, and sitting on the landing pad, humming softly with contained power, was a sleek, silver Sky-Interceptor.
Elias took the lead, cloaked in Aether-damping wool. He utilized the shadows of the machinery, relying on Lyra's focused, mental watch. Two patrols near the perimeter. One is reading a datapad—distracted. The other is moving toward the interceptor.
Elias moved with the silent grace of the Ghost, disabling the distracted guard with a quick neurotoxin dart. He reached the hangar door, quickly slicing through the low-level electrical lock.
The main obstacle was the officer approaching the interceptor. Elias felt the rhythmic tread of the officer's boots through the bond.
He's reaching the cockpit. Two seconds, Lyra warned.
Elias burst from the shadows. The officer spun, drawing his Aether-pistol. Elias tackled him, the impact rough and sudden. Elias felt the wrench of his left shoulder—a deep ache that instantly translated into a sharp, reflexive gasp from Lyra.
Elias! Your shoulder!
Elias ignored the pain. He subdued the officer with a precise, disabling blow, then quickly dragged the unconscious bodies into a maintenance locker.
Lyra rushed to the interceptor, ignoring the persistent throbbing in her own shoulder. She climbed into the pilot seat. "The primary locks are arcane-keyed. I need access codes," she projected, checking the console.
Elias, having stripped the unconscious officer of his datapad, began cracking the security. "The code is shielded by high-level encryption. I need time."
Just as Elias began to work on the complex code, the air filled with the familiar, high-pitched screech of another approaching Sky-Interceptor. They had been tracked.
Another ship is inbound! Not a patrol—a Hunter-Class interceptor! Lyra screamed mentally.
"No time!" Elias snarled, tossing the datapad aside. He grabbed the Warden's Key and slammed the obsidian artifact against the Interceptor's console. "We have to force it! Channel the raw Aether again! Lock override!"
Lyra grabbed the key with him, and they forced the combined energy of the Binding and the Warden's Key into the ship's controls. The console shrieked, short-circuiting violently, but the main locks disengaged.
Lyra grabbed the controls, her mind calculating the immense power surge. "Hold on! Ejecting from the landing pad!"
She gunned the engines. The stolen silver interceptor shot upward, ripping free just as the approaching Hunter-Class ship banked around the cliff face, firing a warning blast of pulsed Aether energy that vaporized the maintenance locker behind them.
They were airborne, but they were hunted.
The Hunter-Class is faster! Lyra projected, fighting the controls. I need to set a flight plan and stabilize the engine output!
I will buy us time, Elias replied, his mind focused. He checked the stolen interceptor's rear arsenal. A single, high-yield ion cannon. "Aim for the cloud cover, Lyra! I'm taking the tail gun!"