Page 33 of Warrior’s Mate

Kaiven's head turned sharply. She pointed to the map.

"We move the people they can reach."

"Explain."

"Large transports are targets. Main shelters are obvious. But half of Wasaytu is built over storage, water, and harvest infrastructure. Small groups can disappear into it faster than we can move them out of the district."

"Hide civilians while enemy ground teams are operating?"

"Yes."

"That can become a trap."

"So can a transport convoy."

He stared at the map. She continued.

"Use the shelters farthest from confirmed Sargan movement as collection points. Everyone else goes into distributed agricultural infrastructure until we know where the attack is concentrating."

"Your service routes aren't on military maps."

"Exactly."

He looked at her. The argument lasted only a second. Then Kaiven touched his comm.

"District security, this is Captain Daratu. New movement plan. Civilian logistics has route control. You support Torren's network."

The wounded officer blinked.

"Captain?"

"You heard me."

Maelis did too. In the middle of an attack, Kaiven had just placed military personnel under a civilian route plan without ceremony or any need to make the idea appear to be his.

Her chest tightened for a reason that had nothing to do with fear. Kaiven looked at her.

"Tell me where to send them."

So she did.

Chapter 6 — The Roads That Aren't on Maps

The old canal service road had no official name. Maelis had always called it Grandmother's Shortcut because Neris Torren used it whenever she wanted to avoid market traffic and insisted that a road did not require government recognition to be useful. It ran behind three orchard terraces, crossed beneath a water-transfer bridge, and disappeared into a stand of flowering trees before emerging beside a grain-storage complex two kilometers west.

On a military map, it was a maintenance line. On Maelis's map, it was survival.

"Keep them moving," she said.

Families hurried past her in groups of twelve and fifteen, carrying bags, children, medicines, and whatever else they had grabbed before leaving their homes. A farmer led two elderly relatives by the hands. A teenager pushed a mobility chair whose anti-grav assist had failed. Three children wore school packs because no one had thought to tell them to leave those behind.

Kaiven stood at the bend with four district security officers, watching the ridge.

"They're too exposed here."

"I know."

"Can we move faster?"