Before her stood everything Cassandra had been raised, trained, and conditioned to hate—and kill. Tuka ‘Refum wore a simple combat harness that left his scaly arms exposed. It was hard to believe that this hideous, mandibled alien was barely more than a child by his species’ standards. “We must go,” Tuka said quickly, oblivious to the danger posed by the human he had just armed. “We need to regroup with the warrior Simon. He is alone.” Boots pounded down the hallway. Two more ONI troopers closed in on Tuka, assault rifles trained on the distracted Elite’s back.