A battle-scarred figure in a USNE suit stumbled out of the murk to Shuttle 2’s airlock. “Message from Reckall to the pilot,” he gasped.

Two guards blocked his way. “You have no clearance here. Return to your unit.”

“Allah, do you hear these unbelievers? The rebels have HS decrypt; we can’t use the comm system. Do you love the dirt-rutting miners more than victory?”

The guards looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay, we’re taking you in. This better be good.”

They squeezed into the airlock together. Suddenly the messenger seized a socket wrench and bashed in a guard’s faceplate. He produced a pistol and shot the second guard through the armpit joint in his armor. He smashed the inner-door window precisely with the heavy wrench.

The window cracked, then blew out explosively. The last thing the crew heard in their headphones was Bates’ manic laughter.