They came at night. Hundreds of them, battering down the doors of Madam Drope's residence. Many of them were unarmed, but they overwhelmed us. I watched them tear her apart.
-Co-Governor Drope's bodyguard from his hospital room, March 21st, 2212 CE
"HOW MANY FIGHTERS?"
"Close to sixty," said Chip. "Once your kid Con makes his rounds, there'll be more."
"Good," said Pyra, standing at an intersection of winding white hallways not too far from the cafeteria (or the Arena, now that she thought about it). "How many of your people know the plan?"
"Five or six. They're spreading the word now."
"I like your style, Chip."
"You don't have to worry about me," he said. "A chance to get out of here is too good to pass up. Even if it is a long shot."
"Agreed. I'm taking my fighters down the hall to the left. You'll go the other direction once you're ready. Don't take too long."
"How will we know which one of us makes it to the bridge?"