Anjali reached the extraction point shortly after the rest of her squad did. There had been casualties. Two men carried the wounded Lieutenant Acharya on a stretcher, while Private Gautami was limping along, supported by another soldier. Captain Vikram was standing by the ramp of the transport shuttle, shouting orders.
“Get in, Patel,” the Captain ordered as soon as he spotted her.
So Anjali went up the ramp, placed her rifle in the weapons rack and plopped down into a seat next to Anil Golkhari, the other new cadet. He was wiping dried blood off his dagger, exhausted but otherwise unhurt.
So Anil’s blade had drunk blood, while Anjali’s was still pristine and unsullied. Though there was as much blood on her hands as on his, maybe more.
Anjali strapped in, just as Captain Vikram strode
