Author: Rachel Aukes
Date: 2022-04-23 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Space Opera; Adventure
Description: Captain Jack Hale and his crew of ragtag scavengers live by a code. They do the job, get paid, and keep their heads down. Salvaging a distant section of the asteroid belt seemed like the perfect job. But when he and his crew stumble across a mining camp filled with dead bodies, their plans for a quick payday quickly go out the airlock. Especially when they find a scared little girl who knows the truth about the massacre. When Captain Hale refuses to turn over the survivor to those behind the slaughter, he and his crew become outlaws. Fugitives in a system controlled by an alien AI. The odds ar

SPACE JUNK

©2022 RACHEL AUKES

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CONTENTS

ALSO IN SERIES

Part I

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Part II

Chapter 1

Part III

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Part IV

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Part V

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Thank you for reading Space Junk

ALSO IN SERIES

Space Junk

Freezer Burn

Malfunction Junction

PART ONE

SOL CORPS STRAYS

CHAPTER 1

LUNAR ORBIT, 2099 AD

Commander Lasseter read her orders again. There was no margin for error in this sort of operation. Only when she was convinced that those directives offered no leeway in interpretation did she turn to her bridge crew. “Lieutenant Edwards.”

The navigator sitting at a computer panel to her right spun in his chair. “Ma’am.”

“Program a trajectory for Gengxin and give me the ETA,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Several seconds passed before Edwards spoke again. “The flight path’s been set. We’ll reach it nine minutes after we change our current trajectory.”

“Engage the new flight path.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lasseter took a calming breath, then activated all speakers across the battleship. “Crew of the U.N.S. Merkel, this is your commander speaking. As of ninety-six minutes ago, the Martian colony, Nufox, was bombed without warning by a Chinese destroyer. 6,817 souls were lost. There were no survivors. The United Nations has demanded immediate retaliation. They’ve chosen as a target the Chinese lunar colony, Gengxin, which is China’s largest remaining colony in the system. As the only UN battleship in lunar orbit, our orders are clear: bomb Gengxin until there are no more survivors.” She paused. “We will reach Gengxin in nine minutes. To your battle stations. Arm punch guns one through three.”

She turned to her first officer, Mac, who watched her intently. “Another one,” he breathed.

Anyone could assume he was referring to Nufox, but she knew him well enough to know that he was talking about Gengxin. He felt the same about the orders as she did. She found no joy in these bombings. There was no strategic value in killing colonists; there was only vengeance. Sixteen colonies had been destroyed in the past twelve months alone. At this rate, in less than three years there wouldn’t be any colonies left.

“Another one,” she replied in the same tone. “See that the punch gun teams are ready and targeting the colony’s nuclear reactors.”

“Of course, ma’am.” He stood and exited the bridge.

Edwards was right, as usual. The U.N.S. Merkel reached Gengxin exactly nine minutes after they’d changed their trajectory.

“Gengxin has issued a warning that we’re in their airspace and they’re commanding us to leave. They’ve given us ten seconds to comply,” Lieutenant Richardson, the communications specialist, announced.

“Shields up,” she ordered.

“Shields are up,” Stahl, the weapons specialist, replied from her right. “Gengxin noticed. They’re powering up their slingshots.”

Lasseter tapped her intercom. “Mac, status.”

“Punch teams have the nuclear reactors targeted and are ready to fire on your command,” her first officer replied.

“Commence firing.”

The battleship shuddered and then lurched as three punch guns fired simultaneously. Sunlight glinted off the projectiles as they made their way toward the colony.

“Incoming,” Stahl announced.

“Brace for impact,” Lasseter said as a volley of moon rocks pelted the battleship’s outer hull. “Status.”

“No breaches. Minimal damage showing to dock Echo,” her systems specialist replied.

“Good. How many hits will it take for the punch guns to break through their ice shields, Stahl?” she asked.

“If our intel is correct and their shields are four meters thick, then three blasts from all three guns, ma’am,” the weapons specialist replied. “The punch guns are finishing their recycling sequence now.”

Four seconds later, the ship shuddered, followed by the lurch of kicking the projectiles from the gun bays. “Two down, one to go,” she said.

“Commander, Gengxin has sent terms of surrender. They request time to evacuate the colonists,” Richardson said.

Lasseter girded herself. “Our orders are clear. No survivors.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Richardson’s voice was quiet.

The colony fired more rocks at the Merkel, but they were akin to throwing pebbles at an armored truck.

“The punch guns are recycled.”

Lasseter swallowed hard. It’d be over in seconds. She wondered how many souls lived on that colony, and then she brushed the thought away. Better not to know.

The battleship shuddered as the punch guns cycled through. But there was no follow-up lurch.

“All weapons systems have gone offline,” Stahl announced.

Lasseter tapped her intercom. “Talk to me, Mac.”

“The punch guns just went inert. They’re completely dead.”

She turned back to Stahl. “Has Gengxin fired again?”

“No, ma’am. Though their slingshots should be reloaded by now.”

The dark space between the Merkel and Gengxin wavered, and… something appeared.

“What is that thing?” someone asked.

Lasseter leaned forward in her seat. “I have no idea.”

It was clearly artificial in origin. It looked to be a metallic sphere as small as a dropship. The surface would be perfectly smooth except for what looked like enough ports and antennas covering it, making it resemble a hedgehog with a severe case of mange… if that hedgehog was made out of silver.

“I’ve lost control of the systems. All the systems.” The systems specialist’s voice climbed a full octave as he spoke.

“We’re getting an incoming message,” Richardson said.

“From Gengxin?” Lasseter asked.

Lieutenant Richardson frowned. “I can’t tell. I… don’t think so.”

“Put it on-screen.”

Silence blanketed the bridge as everyone stared at the one-word message:

CEASE.

“Cease? Cease what? What’s that mean?” Stahl asked.

A chill shot through the commander. Fear gripped her. “It means that it doesn’t want us fighting—but, more importantly, it’s telling us that it’s in control.”

CHAPTER 2

SOL CORPS COMMAND COMPLEX, 2131 AD

It was no surprise aliens showed up at our doorstep. We’d invited them with our radio signals, satellites, and probes. What we didn’t expect was that they’d come to save us from ourselves.

A single Waymaker had pulled humanity back from an ongoing turf war that would’ve led to our extinction. It united the Earth nations under a single banner of peace. What had been the United Nations became Sol Corps, a group that oversaw the supervision, colonization, and protection for all Earth and its colonies in the solar system. Earth’s nations had united swiftly and completely under Sol Corps, because the Waymaker offered superior technology to Sol Corps—and only to Sol Corps—and everyone wanted access.

The Waymakers were a peaceful species, if you could call a group of artificial intelligence a species. But they were also strong. When disagreements escalated between Earth’s nations—and they had in the early years—our local Waymaker would simply take key systems offline until tempers cooled. It was no different from taking a toy away from an unruly child, and Commander Lasseter wondered if the Waymakers saw humans as little more than children. She couldn’t blame them if they did—she’d seen plenty of temper tantrums during her career.

Not that she had much of a career left.

She stood in a viewing port of the Sol Corps Command Complex—the SC3 for short—and watched as workers in hab-suits decommissioned the S.C.S. Merkel in the space dock.

“She had a good run.”

Lasseter turned to find General Metrell standing next to her.

She saluted. “General.”

“At ease, Commander.” He nodded to the Merkel. “She was a good ship. Been through a lot, but you brought her home every time.”

“She was a good ship, sir. It’s hard to watch her getting stripped for parts,” she said.

“Ah, but her parts will help launch the next generation of guardianships.”

“That they will.” Guardianship was just a play on words, and the new politically correct term for a battleship. The Waymakers had recommended that any labels hinting at war should be deleted, since humans would never see another war.

“I hear you’re thinking of retiring,” the general said.

“The choice is out of my hands. Mandatory retirement age.”

“You’ve given over fifty good years to Sol Corps and the United Nations. No one would blame you for wanting to enjoy your well-deserved retirement. But I’m sure you know exceptions can be granted to the mandatory retirement age.”

She cocked her head. “Sir?”

“I’ll get right to the point. I’m putting together a mission, Lyla, and I want you to lead it. You’re the best captain Sol Corps has. We need you.”

She didn’t hide the surprise she felt. “What’s the mission, sir?”

“I want you to lead an exploratory mission outside the solar system.”

She nearly chortled. “I turn seventy next month, sir. That’s not the age of anyone you’d want on a long-term mission. I’d die of old age before we even leave our solar system.”

His lips turned upward into an almost-smile. “Your age won’t be a problem. All crew will go through a full series of nano-treatments.”

She frowned. “Nano-treatments, sir?”

“The Waymakers have helped us set up a nanotech program. We’re calling it the Human 2.0 project. It involves injecting specialized nanites into people to enhance certain attributes. Essentially, it allows us to create transhumans.”

“I remember DARPA having a transhuman program for soldiers. It didn’t turn out so well for them. The test subjects went insane.”

“Their program failed because they didn’t have Waymaker technology. We do. The Waymakers helped us set up a prototype program for this mission, because nanites are crucial for a human-crewed interstellar mission to work. The biggest hurdle we have to cross is the general mortality rate of us poor humans, or bioforms as the Waymakers choose to call us. With nanites, a crew can survive a hundred-year mission rather than a twenty-year mission. Once we cross that hurdle, human physiology is designed for long-term micro-g, not to mention the regular radiation bombardment we expect to see in other systems.” He grinned. “As a bonus, nanites are far cheaper than building large colony ships capable of supporting multiple generations. In fact, we can get by with a ship that holds only forty-eight crew. That makes the bureaucrats happy.”

Her jaw slackened. “Forty-eight? That’s fewer than the smallest gunship on the Merkel can hold.”

“Smaller is better on a mission of this duration.” He held up a finger. “And gunships are called interceptors now that their rail guns have been swapped out for EMP guns.” He rubbed his hands. “Even so, the Waymakers discourage us against attempting interstellar travel. They say it’s far too dangerous for bioforms and will be a suicide mission—in their words, of course. Thanks to their tech, we’ve been able to colonize this entire solar system in thirty years. What the Waymakers don’t understand is that humans are hard-wired to explore the unknown—we need to travel the stars. When they realized that we’d do this mission without their support, they relented and helped us design a ship that can travel indefinitely without a significant overhaul, and a nanotech program that can make a human crew viable. For the ship we’ve designed, forty-eight is far more than needed to maintain the ship, but it’s the minimum number the brainiacs estimated to satisfy the human need for social interaction, which is crucial considering this is a one-way ticket. After all, we don’t want our crew turning into berserkers after one too many months eating food pods.”

A one-way ticket. Even at her age, the thought brought consternation. Even after spending her entire career in space, where she could’ve died on any number of missions, knowing that she wouldn’t be coming home brought out a feeling of loss. But the idea of flying around a star that wasn’t Sol… that exhilarated her. “You said this is an exploratory mission, sir, but we have hundreds of probes in other systems already. What do you hope to accomplish with this mission?”

He motioned to the blackness outside the viewing port. “To see the stars, of course. With our own eyes. And, if you discover a habitable planet, to colonize it.”

She frowned as she shook her head. “Forty-eight isn’t nearly enough to colonize a habitable planet.” She didn’t mention the obvious fact that she was beyond childbearing age, unless the general thought nanites could reverse the aging process as well.

“The crew wouldn’t be the colonists. You’d be flying a seed ship. Everything to begin a colony would be brought along in cold storage.”

She considered the mission. “Since it’s a one-way mission, it’d have to be a volunteer-only crew.”

“Of course.”

“When is it scheduled to depart?”

“Five years and two months from now. That’s how much time we need to build an interstellar ship and to give the crew a full series of nano-treatments.”

She nodded and considered it for several more seconds before speaking again. “I’ll do it.”

His smile accentuated the wrinkles around his eyes, and he held out his hand. “Excellent. Welcome to the Aria mission, Commander.”

CHAPTER 3

SALVAGE OPERATIONS IN THE BELT

With Taoist’s gravity set at .1G, Jack Halverton could barely feel the weight of the woman’s arm draped over his chest, but he enjoyed the warmth and touch, nonetheless. Stacia’s breathing was steady and deep, like a sated woman in a peaceful slumber. He wished he could fall asleep so soon after climax, but he couldn’t, so he instead savored the peacefulness of her next to him.

That was until the comm in Stacia’s room chimed, and Reuben’s voice blared. “Wakey wakey, I’ve got an incoming priority message that just came in from Sol Corps.”

Stacia groaned as she rolled onto her side. “Send it through.”

“It’s not for you, boss. It’s for Jack.”

He frowned. A message from Sol Corps? For him? He could’ve sworn he’d renewed his salvager license. “I’ll take it here.” A second later, the comm panel in Stacia’s room lit up.

“What does Sol Corps want from you?” Stacia asked.

He shrugged. “No clue.”

“I hope they haven’t restarted the draft program for mining again. I lost a full crew to that last time.”

He grunted. “If they are, let them try to find me.” He rolled out of bed and didn’t bother dressing before he walked over to the comm panel on the wall. He opened the message, frowning as he read it.

“What’s it say?” Stacia asked.

“It says my name was randomly drawn from a lottery for something called the Aria mission. They’re obviously screwed up, because I didn’t put my name in for any lottery.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I did when we were last at Elijah Station.”

He jerked and turned to face her. “Why the hell would you do that?”

She pulled herself into a seated position on the bed. “I put your name in for you because I knew you wouldn’t put it in for yourself.”

His muscles tensed. “Listen, if you wanted me off your crew, all you had to do was say so.”

She shot him a wry look. “That’s not why I put your name in. I did it because you’re wasting your talent here. This ship is barely holding together, and every crew member, except you, is here because they can’t get a better job anywhere else. You, on the other hand, could work anywhere you wanted, but you stay here to keep this crew in the black. You’re throwing away your life out here with us when you could be out there making a real difference.”

“Damn it, Stacia. I can make up my own mind about what I want to do with my life. If I wanted to be told what to do, I would’ve stayed on Mars.”

She bristled. “Well, you’ve been doing a shitty job at using that head of yours. Since I’m your captain, it’s my job to look after you, especially since you refuse to do it yourself.”

He turned back to the message to keep from snapping at Stacia. As he reread it, he exhaled. “Even if I accept, who knows if the mission will even launch? It’s still five years away. You know how budget cuts are—chances are, this mission will be scrubbed before this year’s up.”

“But it could also launch, and you could be on the crew.”

He considered it for a moment. He’d never been one to say “yes, sir” and “no, sir” after every sentence. Thinking he’d have to do that every day for the rest of his life curdled his blood. He shook his head as he headed back to the bed. “Sol Corps ain’t for me. They can find another sucker for their crew.”

“Why wouldn’t you accept it? You’d never have to dig through scraps for credits again. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” she said.

He chortled as he crawled into bed and above her. “Because whenever someone says that they’re trying to sell you something.”

She placed her hands on his chest, focusing all too intently on him. “You better not be staying here because of me.”

He kissed her, closing his eyes so she couldn’t see the truth. “I’m not. You’re just a perk.”

CHAPTER 4

SOL CORPS COMMAND COMPLEX

General Charles Metrell took a sip of coffee while he read through the daily reports. He winced and set the cup down. He tapped the intercom. “Coffman, get in here.”

Staff Sergeant Janita Coffman hurried into his office in under three seconds. “Sir.”

Metrell held up the cup. “This shit is cold and tastes like lunar sludge. Get me a fresh cup.”

Coffman grabbed the cup. “Yes, sir.” She turned to leave.

“How are we standing on the Aria lottery?” the general asked.

His assistant pivoted. “Twenty-four of the twenty-five have accepted, sir.”

Metrell frowned. “Who didn’t accept?”

Coffman held up a finger, set down the drink, and then checked her armlet. “Jack Halverton, a salvage crew operator in the belt near Ceres, sir.”

Metrell pulled up the name on his computer to refresh his memory. He’d hand-selected each “winner” from a list of qualified names that were submitted to the lottery. “Why’d he decline?”

“His stated reason for declining was that he already had a crew, sir.”

Halverton was an exceptional candidate, one of Metrell’s first picks. The salvager had experience in the Martian Guard, where all his test scores were at the top of the charts. His salvage record was also commendable. A camera onboard a Corps ship during a salvaging job had shown Halverton attacked by the crew member who’d gone berserk and murdered the rest of his crew. The berserker, who’d stayed hidden from the cameras until then, had gone at Halverton with bloodied knives, and Halverton hadn’t hesitated. He’d maneuvered and knocked the berserker into a spin in the zero-G cabin before crushing his attacker’s helmet with a wrench.

Metrell needed Aria’s crew to act without hesitation. A second in the midst of a hull breach could be the difference between life and death. Every crew member had to be the best and brightest in the system. Anything less begged for failure. He needed the mission to succeed. It was their only chance to prove the Waymakers wrong—that humans could endure interstellar travel. It was humanity’s time to travel the stars.

Metrell thumped the desk with his fist. “Then take away his reason for staying. I want him on the crew.”

CHAPTER 5

SALVAGE OPERATIONS IN THE BELT

Jack used the boosters strapped to his back to propel himself toward the dead cargo hauler. Navigational lights still blinked on its hull, and the doors were still sealed, which was a good sign that pirates hadn’t already stripped everything of value from the ship. The single engine mounted near the aft of the box-shaped ship was dented and sitting askew from where it’d collided with space junk.

To his left, Reuben was flying toward the cargo hauler’s prow, tugging a towline with him. Jack slowed and adjusted his thrusters as he approached the side door. He grabbed a handhold as soon as it was within reach. “I’m at Estes. The panel’s still showing power and life support. Everything’s looking good so far—just like the crew reported. I’m ready for the entry code,” he reported in.

“The code is nine-nine-nine-six-four-nine,” Stacia’s voice came through his earpiece.

He entered the numbers on the screen touchpad. A light above the door flashed green. He gripped the handhold harder as the door opened and any atmosphere still in the airlock shot out. As soon as he felt no force against him, he swung around and into the airlock where a slight gravity brought his feet to the floor. He closed the door behind him. A second later, air filled the chamber, the force of it knocking him back somewhat. When the light above the inner door turned green, he checked status of the life support systems on the wall. He unlocked and removed his helmet, tucking it under his arm. “All environmentals are green. No signs of a hull breach. I’m entering the ship now.”

“Reading you loud and clear. How are you doing, Reuben?” Stacia asked.

“I’m still on my way to the nose,” Reuben replied.

“Seriously? What are you doing, taking a nap out there?” she said.

“It ain’t me. It’s the cable. It ain’t pulling smooth. It needs greased,” Reuben retorted.

Jack chuckled. “It ain’t the cable. I greased it this morning.”

“Shut up, Jack,” Reuben said.

He was still chuckling as he pressed a button on the panel. The door opened, and he stepped into the ship. He took a deep breath out of habit, smelling for the stench of death, even though the contract had said the entire crew had evacuated without problems. Relief filled him when he smelled nothing but fresh air. Well, mostly fresh air. Estes’ crew clearly hadn’t had as strict a captain as Stacia when it came to cleanliness.

He turned left down the hallway and toward the bridge. The gravity was even stronger on Estes than on Taoist, maybe even .5G, and the temperature on the cool side of normal. The hallway was long and wide, typical of haulers, where smaller, more fragile items were often strapped to the inner walls.

“Aw, damn it,” Reuben muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Stacia asked.

“Oh, nothing. I forgot that I left my heated blanket on. My room’s gonna be an oven tonight.”

Jack could practically hear Stacia’s sigh. “Keep yourself focused on the job. I’ll have Trix turn it off for you.”

“Tell her she can stay in my bed until I get back,” Reuben said.

“If I tell her that, you’ll have a black eye as soon as you step back onboard,” she said.

“It was worth a shot.” Reuben was quiet after that.

Jack reached the bridge to find it a mess. Papers littered the floor and drawers stood open, which meant the evacuation had likely happened in a rush. Ignoring the mess, he went straight for the captain’s chair and activated a locked computer screen. He tried the same code used for the door. It worked.

He ran system checks. While he waited, he looked at Taoist sitting nearly a kilometer in front of him. The hull had more patches than smooth surface, but she kept running, and it was the closest thing to a home he’d ever had.

Reuben was nearly to Estes’ bow. Jack shook his head. That crew member moved slower than a sloth. The system chimed, and he reviewed the results from the checks. Everything green except for the engine, which had been clipped by some free-floating space junk at the perfect spot… well, the perfect spot for crippling a ship, that was. The crew had reported a cat fail—a catastrophic failure—and had been picked up the same day by a shuttle in the vicinity. Stacia had been hired to tug the hauler to Ceres Station where it could be repaired or salvaged. Estes was about four times the size of Taoist, but size didn’t matter in zero G.

He displayed Estes’ navigational systems on his screen. Even with the engine dead, he’d still need to operate the nav thrusters, used most often for entering space docks, to keep Estes in line behind Taoist as she tugged it in.

He reported in. “All right. It looks like all systems are a go. Let me know when Reuben’s got the towline hooked up.”

“Hold tight. We’re reading system errors on the fusion drive and need to check on that first,” Stacia said.

He frowned. Taoist was a piece of shit, but the fusion drive had never acted up before. “Need me to come back?”

“Nah. Just doing a quick reboo—”

Taoist exploded in a fireball. It became a small star for an instant before flames and debris shot outward in every direction. Jack instinctively ducked and covered his head. The sounds of multiple impacts echoed around him.

“Stacia!” Jack yelled, but there was no response. He knew there wouldn’t be. She—along with the rest of the crew still onboard—would’ve been incinerated instantly. Alarms blared throughout the ship. He jumped to his feet. Before him, there was no sign of Taoist. Any remnants had shot off in all directions. Even the towline was gone, though Reuben was still out there… or at least what was left of him. Only his legs and some of his guts remained, the other half of him knocked away somewhere. The towline had likely sliced right through him when it was yanked in the explosion. A crack split the screen through which Jack was looking.

“Oh shit.”

He grabbed his helmet and sprinted from the bridge, closing the door as soon as he was through. The door was only halfway closed by the time the bridge window shattered outward, sucking out the atmosphere with it. Jack lost the grip of his helmet, which would’ve flown through the doorway and into space if the door hadn’t shut in time.

Air whistled around the edges of the bridge door. Any good ship had airtight doors. Estes clearly wasn’t a good ship. He grabbed his helmet, slid it on, and then ran toward the back of the ship and away from the initial blast. One of the doors to his left was bowed outward, and he knew it wouldn’t hold much longer before it would give way to the lack of pressure sucking at it.

He raced to the only part of the ship he knew would withstand pressure changes, but that was only if it was currently pressurized. By the time he reached the cargo hold, he could already feel the air pressure tugging him back, like Stacia was calling him to join her in the black. The double-wide cargo door was locked, but it used the same code, and he rushed through as soon as the door opened. Closing the door, he checked the life support systems. It was currently just below freezing but had pressure and air. He turned up the temperature, hoping the environmental systems hadn’t been perforated in the explosion. He found an engineering terminal and ran system checks. The computer had more restricted access than the captain’s, but it was enough to show Jack that the ship had suffered multiple hull breaches. At least the environmentals in the cargo hold were stable.

He fired off an SOS, hoping a shuttle was in the vicinity. That done, his world settled into a sudden, eerie silence, interrupted only by his fast breathing. Around him, the cargo hold was filled with pallets upon pallets. No wonder Stacia mentioned they had a bonus for quick retrieval. Bile rose in his throat and he swallowed. Stacia was gone… Reuben… Trix… all of them. He paced.

What had gone wrong with the fusion drive? Fusion drives were so stable, it was rare to hear of one going nuclear, though the older ones still did now and then. And Taoist had one of the oldest drives. Jack clenched his eyes shut. He stumbled and sat down next to a crate. Pulling off his helmet, he sucked in air. Hours of reliving the explosion and thinking of every possibility gave him a headache and no answers. He tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. There were too many ghosts in there with him.

At some point he fell asleep, because he jolted awake to a voice coming from the engineering computer.

“This is the S.C.S. Starbrand responding to an SOS. Please respond.”

Jack jumped to his feet, rushed to the computer, and opened a comm channel. “This is Jack Halverton onboard Estes. The ship’s lost environmentals everywhere except the cargo hold. I have air here, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll hold. I have a hab-suit with about ninety minutes of charge left, so I could really use a pickup.”

Several seconds passed before the response came. “Our records show that the crew of the Estes are all accounted for. Confirm your ship.”

If they thought he was a pirate, he’d be left. He forced himself to remain calm. “I’m a salvager. I’m stuck here on Estes, but I’m a member of a crew from Taoist. Its ID number is S806RB. That’s sierra-eight-oh-six-romeo-bravo. We had a contract to tug Estes to Ceres Station. Taoist’s fusion drive blew during towline setup…” He choked on the words. “And I was stranded here.”

“We can confirm the contract. What is the status of your crew?”

He winced as he replied, “I’m the only one who survived.”

Every second of silence felt like minutes.

“Understood. We are in your sector, and will be to you in one to two hours. There’s quite a bit of debris in the area, which may slow us down some. Hang in there, Jack. We’ll get you picked up soon.”

“Thanks. You guys are lifesavers.” He slumped against the wall and waited.

CHAPTER 6

SOL CORPS COMMAND COMPLEX, 2132 AD

Commander Lasseter felt better than she had in twenty years, courtesy of the nanites swimming around in her bloodstream, and she still had over four years before she was through the nano-treatments. She stood at a podium before her crew of forty-seven intrepid volunteers, every single one of them half her age or younger. She tapped the microphone to hush the crowd. Her smile was genuine as she began speaking.

“Tonight is a celebration to welcome you to the crew of the first ever human-crewed interstellar mission. I am Captain Lyla Lasseter, and I will be leading this record-breaking mission. Fifty-two months from now, everyone in this room will be onboard Aria, Sol Corps’ most advanced exploratory ship, as we leave Earth’s orbit and make our way to the outer rim of our solar system and beyond. Millions volunteered for this mission. Forty-eight were selected. Some, such as myself and the bridge crew, were selected because our skills and experience were deemed crucial to mission success.”

She paused to glance to her right at the members of her bridge crew who’d chosen to join her.

“The rest of you submitted your names to a lottery and were selected at random. Some of your names may have been pulled on the second or third round, as twelve initial lottery winners didn’t pass the rigorous physical and aptitude requirements necessary for a mission of this sort. Regardless of how you were selected for the crew, all of you are crew members. No one will receive better—or worse—treatment based on how you came to be on the crew.

“By now, each of you are at least one week into your nanite treatments, and some of you are nearly four weeks in. There were four original crew members who suffered adverse reactions to the treatments and had to be replaced. With all initial testing completed, I have high confidence that every single person in this room tonight will be on Aria when we depart in a little over four years from now. That may sound like a long time, but I assure you, it’s not. During this time, you will complete the full series of nanite treatments while spending every waking hour training for the mission. In addition to physical training, you will be studying and apprenticing for your mission role. Speaking of which…”

Lasseter held up her left arm, where she wore a slim computer tablet integrated into a black sleeve that wrapped around her forearm. “Yesterday, you all received your armlets. From this point forward, these computers are your lifeline to both the mission and crew. You can use your armlet to communicate with any crew member as well as get answers to all questions you might have in terms of the mission. The first bit of information I advise you to look up, if you haven’t done so already, is your mission role. Each role was assigned by an algorithm that matched your aptitude and personality to a crucial job aboard Aria.

“After tonight, we will not convene again as a full crew until departure day. There is too much to do to take precious time for celebration. Instead, you will meet with your individual teams—engineering, health, science, and flight.

“Engineering is by far the largest team, and so we have split it into two teams: engineering-soft and engineering-hard to differentiate between those who work on software and systems and those who work on hardware and ship maintenance. The two engineering teams will conduct some cross-training, as hardware engineers must be able to run and calibrate ship components, and software engineers must be able to maintain computer systems.

“The health team handles all medical, food, and wellbeing efforts; the science team handles research and development, data collection and analysis, and sensor calibrations; and the flight team manages all bridge activities, including flight controls, communications, and navigation.

“I will now leave you to mingle. Discover who else in this room is on your team. As of tomorrow, you’ll be spending twelve hours every day with them. But don’t stop there. Get to know all your fellow crew members. In four years, they will become your family. Together, we will make history and open up the future of humanity to new star systems.” She beamed. “Welcome to the Aria mission!”

The crowd clapped and cheered.

Lasseter stepped down from the podium to where four members from the Merkel’s bridge crew stood.

“Nice speech, Commander,” Mac said.

“You don’t have to call me Commander anymore. The Aria mission might be backed by Sol Corps, but it isn’t a military mission. I’ve retired and given up my rank. I’m just a captain now,” Lasseter said.

Mac shrugged. “Potato, potahto. You earned the rank of commander, and you’ll always be Commander to me.”

“And I’m still counting on you to be my XO.” She looked across the crowd. “You should mingle. The crew needs to meet their XO and team leaders.”

“And their captain,” Mac said before heading off toward the crowd.

Stahl remained at her side.

“You should go too,” Lasseter said.

“I’m better at shooting things then talking with people.” Stahl cocked her head. “Are you still sure you want me on this mission? Because I think you could’ve picked more qualified officers to lead En-hard.”

Lasseter smiled. “You were a good weapons expert because you’re a natural with any kind of hardware. Crew members want leaders who can walk the walk. Your team will appreciate you.”

“If you say so, but they better not expect any hugs from me.” Stahl went to step away, then paused. “You know, I have to say, I was surprised when I looked over the crew tonight. For having half of the crew chosen by a lottery, we got really lucky. I mean, I knew the ones we picked were the best of the best, but everyone in this room looks to be in good shape and halfway behaved. Shoot, they look better than any group of new recruits at basic training I’ve ever seen. I haven’t even seen anyone get drunk yet, and it’s a free bar.”

Lasseter chortled. “You don’t really believe the lottery was random, do you? This is General Metrell’s pet project. I have no doubt he vetted each and every one of those twenty-five so-called ‘randomly chosen’ crew members. Speaking of which…” She waved to catch the attention of the nearest crew member, a man carrying a drink in each hand.

He pivoted, approached, and held out one of the drinks. “Captain.”

“No, thank you.”

He held out the glass to Stahl, who raised a brow. “Kissing up to your team leader already?”

He jerked. “I didn’t realize—well, here you go, your first palm grease from a crew member.”

Stahl accepted the glass, a hint of a grin on her face. “I appreciate honesty.”

He scratched his nose. “Actually, I just had an itch and needed my hand free. Thanks.”

Stahl chuckled and drank.

“You’re Jack Halverton, correct?” Lasseter asked.

He nodded. “The one and only. I’m one of your space janitors.”

“We prefer to call you engineers,” Lasseter corrected.

He cocked his head. “I’m surprised you know my name. I was a third-round pick; just joined up last week,” he said.

“I make it a point to know each and every one of my crew. If I remember correctly, you were working on a salvage crew in the belt when your name was picked.”

Jack’s expression darkened. “I was.” The statement sounded more like a challenge than any form of agreement.

Lasseter was about to ask him about it when Stahl spoke. “What Jack’s not telling you is that he’s a first-round winner, not a third-round winner, but he didn’t accept the offer to join the crew until recently.”

He pursed his lips before speaking. “My circumstances changed.”

Lasseter studied him, searching his face for emotions, but she couldn’t read him. “Well, I’m glad you decided to join us. Your aptitude scores are quite high, and your experience on flight crews and in microgravity will give you a jumpstart. I’m glad to have you on the crew.”

He grunted. “We’ll see if you’re still saying that in ten years, when we’re deep into the mission and butting heads.”

CHAPTER 7

NEAR THE OUTER RIM, 2142 AD

Space travel is dangerous and uncomfortable, and the farther you travel from Earth, the worse the tea.

Jack gave up on his cup of shriveled leaves that resembled grass more than tea and dumped it down the drain. Behind him, two of his closest friends—Caber and Nalla Patel—were bickering.

“Spicy foods help with the congestion,” Caber said.

“You know I hate spicy food,” Nalla said.

“I know, but it’ll help you breathe easier, which will help with the headaches, dear.”

“If I wanted a doctor’s opinion, I’d schedule an appointment with you,” she said.

Caber held his hands up in surrender. “It’s your sinuses, but I have to listen to you snore every night.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I most certainly do not snore.”

“Yes, you most certainly do, sweetheart.”

Jack crept around them and toward the door.

“Jack, hold up,” Nalla said.

He lowered his head and turned around. “Oh no. Don’t drag me into this.”

She ignored his comment. “I dozed off during our double-shift last week. Did I snore then?”

“I plead the fifth,” Jack said.

“I don’t think the fifth amendment works that way,” Caber said. “Not to mention, this is a Corps ship, so I don’t even think any of the amendments apply here.”

“Okay, fine. Nalla, you don’t snore,” Jack said.

“But she does. You’re lying,” Caber said.

“I’m saving you from yourself, partner,” he countered.

At that moment, Captain Lasseter stepped into the mess hall.

Jack lit up. “Captain, just the person I want to see.”

“Oh, no. Not again.” She stiffened and spun on her heels, and he had to hurry to catch up to her.

“I wanted to talk to you about the H2O system. I think I figured out why the pumps keep failing,” Jack said.

“Have you talked with Stahl yet?” Lasseter asked.

“I did.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t agree.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “Jack, we’re dealing with problems nonstop right now. The water issue isn’t critical—”

“Yet. The water issue isn’t critical yet,” Jack interrupted.

“There are other systems that are critical, and we have to focus on those first. Both Stahl and I are busy. We don’t have time for noncritical issues right now.”

“Then let me run with it,” he offered. “The system says the pumps are failing because the O-rings are faulty, but I’ve tested them a dozen times. They’re fine. It’s not the O-rings. It’s the system itself. Its tolerances are too narrow. Let me talk to Kana. She can go in and change the software to allow for greater tolerances.”

She held up her hand. “I’ll stop you right there. You know we’re not allowed to change any original programming. If we make a tiny change to one system, it could have a compounding effect on other systems. We can’t risk it.”

He grimaced. “That’s what Stahl said.”

Lasseter’s armlet chimed, and she tapped it. “Go ahead.”

“I need you on the bridge, Captain. External comms are down. We can’t reach the SC3,” Richardson’s voice said through the armlet’s tinny speakers.

“On my way,” Lasseter replied, then turned back to Jack. “Stahl is your team lead. You follow her direction.” She walked away.

“But she’s wrong,” Jack stood there as Lasseter left. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

When he heard someone approach, he glanced to find Tommy, a fellow engineer. Tommy nodded toward Lasseter’s back. “You talk to her about the water systems?”

“I tried,” Jack said.

“You know what I miss?” Tommy began. “Showers. No, wait, baths. Definitely baths. Taking a long bath with candles and a beautiful woman is damn near heaven in my mind. What do you miss?”

Jack considered for a moment. “Taoist. That ship was a piece of shit with the most obsolete systems you could find anywhere, and it ran a hundred times smoother than Aria.”

Tommy frowned. “Didn’t that ship’s fusion drive blow up?”

Jack shrugged. “Up until that happened, it ran better than this hunk of junk.”

“If you say so.” Tommy slapped his shoulder. “We have a little problem.”

“Little?”

“Big. Really big.”

Jack cocked his head. “Is it the water system again?”

“No.”

“The air system?”

“Nope.”

“Gravity?”

“Nope.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

“It’s Shane. I found his armlet in the trash. I think he’s finally lost it.”

Jack rubbed his forehead. “You say anything to Stahl yet?”

Tommy bristled. “Are you kidding? Stahl would tell Lasseter, and she would lock him up when all he needs is a little sedation.”

“Who needs sedated?” Caber asked as he and Nalla exited the mess hall.

“Shane. I think he went off the deep end,” Tommy replied.

Caber sobered. “Let me grab my kit. We need to talk to him before he hurts himself or someone else.”

“Where’s he now?” Jack asked.

“My guess? He’s on his escape shuttle. That’s where he’s been sleeping for the past few weeks,” Tommy said.

Jack winced. “No, he hasn’t. I saw him in bed just last night.”

“No, you saw his clothes stuffed under his blankets to look like he’s sleeping. Every morning, he sneaks back and makes his bunk. Being in the top bunk, it was easier for him to pull off, but he couldn’t trick me since I sleep in the bunk under his,” Tommy said.

Jack ran a hand through his hair. With five bunkmates, he didn’t exactly watch them come and go, but how had he been oblivious to one of his bunkmates not even bunking there?

“What’s he doing sleeping there?” Nalla asked.

Tommy shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You should’ve told me,” Caber said. “Space sickness is a very real mental disease. If he were to go berserk…”

“Shane asked me not to tell anyone. And besides, if I told you, then he’d be moved to Medical and I’d probably get a new roomie. I like having a bunk to myself.”

“If Shane’s ditched his armlet, he might be thinking of taking a shuttle and ditching Aria.” Jack blew out a breath. “All right, Doc, you get your kit and you and Nalla meet us outside the shuttle.”

“Which escape shuttle is he on?” Nalla asked.

“Two,” Tommy replied. “He’s kinda laid claim to shuttle two.”

“And Lasseter’s let him?” she asked.

“I don’t think anyone knows except me. Shane’s sneaky, like a cat. Besides, us engineers are always in all the oddest places on the ship, so it’s not like finding him on a shuttle would throw up any red flags,” Tommy said.

Jack rubbed his hands. “All right, let’s go and let’s keep this just to us. There’s enough shit going on.”

“I might’ve run into Veda on the way here and mentioned it to him,” Tommy said.

Jack groaned. “Then half the ship probably knows already. C’mon, let’s get to Shane. Hopefully he hasn’t done something stupid.”

CHAPTER 8

Jack and Tommy arrived at the escape shuttle two to find Veda and Ollie standing there. The outer door stood open, but the shuttle’s inner airlock door was closed, which was against protocol.

“Is Shane still in there?” Jack asked.

Veda nodded. “Yeah, but he’s locked the door. When I asked him to let us in, he turned off the comm.” He motioned to the panel on the wall next to the door.

Jack pulled out his screwdriver. “The doors on Taoist were glitchy and would lock up at times.”

He went about unscrewing the touchscreen. Every screw he removed, he handed to Tommy. He had the panel halfway off when Caber and Nalla arrived. Caber was carrying his first aid backpack. Jack continued his work until the panel came loose. A box was secured to the back of the one-inch screen, three wires coming out of the box.

“You can unlock the door this way?” Veda asked.

“Yeah, but you have to be careful. If you touch exposed wires, there could be a power surge, and doors automatically lock. To unlock, all you’ve got to do is remove the powered wire. But you’ll have to push the door open once I unlock it.” He pointed at the black wire, which he pinched between his fingers.

“I should go in first,” Caber said.

“Let me. No one can stay mad at me,” Tommy said.

Caber gave a single nod.

“I can’t believe you slunk off without me, Veda.”

Jack looked over his shoulder to find Kana, Veda’s wife, approach.

She glared at him. “You go on a clandestine adventure without me. After we just talked about this?”

Veda held up his hands. “I just found out about this a few minutes ago. I didn’t have time to grab you.”

“Tommy told you sixteen minutes ago, to be exact,” she said.

Veda frowned. “Wait a second. Were you spying on me?”

She huffed. “Of course. You know how frustrating it is monitoring systems that are full of gremlins? Oh, and you’re welcome for me shutting down the cameras in this hallway.” She turned to the others. “Just this morning, we talked about how it would be nice to do something productive for a change.”

“Can you two talk about this later?” Jack asked, still holding the wire.

Kana seemed to notice him then. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Veda asked.

“Ready to figure out why Shane has disconnected the shuttle from all my monitoring systems,” she replied.

“Why’d Shane do that?” Veda asked.

Why had Shane done that, Jack wondered. “Let’s ask him.” He tugged the black wire free from the box.

There was a light click in the wall. Tommy leaned into the door and slid it open into its place between the wall panels. He stepped through. “Hey Shane, buddy.”

“What are doing here? Wait, what are all you doing in here? Get out! This is my shuttle.” Jack could hear Shane’s voice as the rest of their small group filtered into the room.

“Easy does it, partner. I brought them. I was getting worried about you, so I thought I’d bring you some friends so we can hang out together,” Tommy said.

Jack stayed near the wall as he walked deeper into the shuttle and closer to Shane. The first thing he noticed was the shuttle was crammed with supplies, mostly boxes of food pods and water packets. The seven newcomers filled any remaining space. Jack’s gut had been right: Shane was planning to take off.

“Get off my shuttle. You’re not supposed to be here,” Shane said from where he stood in the cockpit.

Jack had expected Shane to look distraught, but he looked normal. Not even his hair was mussed. Oddly, he looked saner than much of the crew.

“This ain’t your shuttle. It’s an Aria shuttle,” Veda corrected.

Shane snarled. “Not anymore. It’s mine now. I’m taking it before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what, Shane. Talk to me,” Caber said.

Shane snapped to the doctor. “It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

“Try me,” Caber said calmly. He may have been the medical lead on the crew, but over the past five years, Caber had spent more time helping crew with mental ailments than physical ones.

Shane opened his mouth and then closed it.

“It’s okay, Shane. No one’s here to judge,” Caber said.

“They’re going to kill us if we don’t turn back,” Shane blurted.

“Who’s going to kill us?”

“They are. They’ve been causing all these glitches, trying to get us to turn back. But we aren’t listening.”

“The system glitches are just bugs in the software,” Kana said. “We’ll get them all fixed, I promise.”

Shane clenched his fists. “No, they aren’t! Not if you look at their frequency.” He pulled out a tattered paper journal and held it up. “I’ve been keeping track. They started to happen at exact intervals, but lately those intervals are becoming shorter and shorter. Now, the glitches are happening almost on top of each other. Don’t you get it? The glitches are warnings. They’ve been telling us to turn back.”

“Let’s show your analysis to Captain Lasseter,” Caber offered.

“I tried talking with her when I first noticed the trend,” Shane said, “but she refused to listen. No one will listen to me!”

“We’re listening now,” Caber said, his voice calm. “All of us. We believe you. That’s why we’re here with you now. Come to my office so you can show me the data.”

Shane’s eyes widened. “I’m not going back there. It’s not safe!” He spun and powered up the shuttle. The door closed.

“Shane, stop. Please,” Caber said.

Shane ignored him and initiated the shuttle’s launch sequence.

“What are you doing, Shane?” Tommy asked.

“Don’t launch the ship, Shane. Without being connected to Aria’s systems, it’ll be impossible to reconnect!” Kana said.

Tommy stepped toward Shane, who twisted around and held up a knife in front of his bunkmate. “Don’t come any closer. I’m leaving Aria before it’s too late. I won’t let you stop me.”

“Shuttles aren’t made for long-term travel,” Jack said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Its power cells will drain before your food runs out. The nearest colony is what, two years out? You’ll be long dead before then. You’re going to kill all of us if you launch this shuttle now. Aria won’t come back for us, not now that it’s at full cruising speed.”

Shane’s confidence seemed to waver, then he stiffened. “They sent you to stop me, didn’t they?”

“No one sent us. Tommy was worried about you,” Jack said.

“I don’t believe you.” With his free hand, he initiated the emergency launch sequence. The shuttle snapped free from Aria, the abrupt movement knocking Jack against the wall.

Ollie lunged at Shane, but Shane moved faster and slashed the thinner man’s throat. As Ollie stumbled back, Tommy tackled Shane. Jack raced for the shuttle controls. He tried to abort the launch, but the shuttle was already pulling away from Aria. Every button he pressed did nothing except flash the same notice: Automatic deployment underway. Manual controls not available.

He hit the panel. “The controls aren’t responding.”

“Let me.” Kana took a seat and began touching various buttons.

Jack turned back to the rest of the people onboard the shuttle. Tommy sat, leaning against the wall, his hands in his hair, as he stared at Shane lying in front of him. Shane looked to be sleeping, except his head was bent at an unnatural angle.

“Oh, god. I killed him. I can’t believe I killed him,” Tommy muttered. He stared at his hands and then sobbed.

A couple of meters away, Nalla had her hand placed on Ollie’s arm while Caber frantically worked at staunching the blood loss. Veda stood as far back as he could, staring.

After several seconds, Caber’s hands dropped to his thighs, and he clenched his eyes closed before looking up. “He’d cut an artery. There wasn’t anything I could do.”

“I’ve got control of the shuttle,” Kana announced. “It just needed to finish its launch process first.” She grinned. “They’re slowing down. They must’ve caught our detachment—I don’t know how since Shane had disconnected all the systems—anyway, we should be able to catch up.” Her brow furrowed as she read the screen. “Wait, they’re coming to a full stop. Not sure why. We could’ve caught up to them.” She sucked in a breath and stared out the window.

“What is it?” Veda asked.

Jack looked out the window, and his jaw slackened. “What the hell?”

CHAPTER 9

Captain Lasseter locked her cabin door. She needed a solid hour of sleep with no distractions or else she was going to go crazy. She was exhausted; everyone was exhausted. Ships always had errors, but Aria had more than she’d seen on even the oldest of junkers. The onslaught was wearing down the crew. Everyone was at each other’s throats, and she was starting to have serious doubts about the mission’s chance for success.

She kicked off her boots and plopped onto her cot. On a normal day, she’d never be able to sleep without first meditating and clearing her mind. But she was so exhausted, she faded off as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Her door clicked. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. She could’ve sworn she’d locked the door. Or maybe she was just hearing things.

Her armlet chimed. She answered it when she saw it was Mac. “What is it?”

“Get into your hab-suit! The ship’s performing a purge. I can’t override it!”

“What are you talking about? Why would it—”

Her door opened even though she hadn’t pressed any button. She jumped to her feet and ran into the hallway where she noticed every single door opened and confused crew members looking around.

“What’s going on, Captain?” someone asked.

Her breathing caught as Mac’s words sunk in. A ship was designed to conduct a total purge if an airborne biological agent or toxin was indicated onboard. It was a necessary safety protocol in case a reactor leaked radiation. But purges could only be manually initiated and ran only after a series of warnings to crew.

There’d never been a single warning.

“Get into your hab-suits!” She raced back into her quarters. Her ears popped the split-second before she was sucked back into the hallway. She tumbled in a tangled mess of crew members and items not fastened down as the outer doors were opened at the same time the air systems expunged everything in their reserves. The immense pressure brought tunnel vision. Her eardrums burst. She felt her hand break when something—or more likely, someone—collided with her. She was tumbling through the hallways like a down feather blowing in the wind, slamming into walls and corners before everything suddenly went quiet and cold… so cold it burned. People and material were somersaulting around her into the icy vacuum of space. The lack of pressure made every part of her feel like it was about to explode. She’d been shot before, been in ship crashes, but nothing came close to the agony she felt of being in space without a hab-suit. She inhaled, only to feel her lungs freeze. Her eyes stung as though someone shoved a hundred needles in them simultaneously.

The nanites were designed to keep the crew alive for the duration of the mission, however long that would be. Being prototypes, no one really knew how well and how long the nanites would work. But they worked now, and she hated that they did. Rather than slinking into unconsciousness, she stayed awake, every single cell of hers gouged from both the inside and outside at the same time. She saw the crew members around her, experiencing the same nightmare. She could no longer move her eyes, but she could still see, though a blurriness was coating everything. Her sight picture kept changing. Even though she didn’t feel herself spinning, she knew she was. Aria was dark—not a single light shone—and every one of its doors still stood open.

In the distance she saw a shuttle. Closer than it probably seemed, and its shape told her it was an Aria shuttle. Lights blinked on its hull, and she knew she was looking at the saboteurs. Mutineers, more likely. They’d purged the ship so that they could return and have it all to themselves. She wondered who it could be, but her mind was becoming sluggish, so she focused her final thoughts on cursing the saboteurs.

May you suffer for eternity.

CHAPTER 10

Jack couldn’t help the moment of shock before he sprang into action. “Get to them!”

Kana was frozen in place.

“Kana! Get us to the crew. The nanites should keep them alive for at least a couple of minutes,” Jack said.

“Jack…” Caber said.

She snapped to attention. “Okay. Let me figure out the controls. I’ve never flown one of these before.”

“Jack…” Caber said.

Jack spun around. “What?”

“We can’t reach them in time,” Caber said softly, tears already forming in his eyes.

“We can if we hurry.” He turned to everyone else. “This shuttle should have hab-suits stashed somewhere onboard. We need to find those.”

“Jack…” Nalla began. “It takes ten minutes to put on our suits, let alone the time it’d take to retrieve each crew member out there. No one, even with nanites, can survive outside that long. We all went through the treatments. We know the limits. They don’t make us invincible.”

“We have to at least try. The nanites might help them hold out until we reach them,” Jack said.

Nalla pointed to the bodies on the floor. “Look at them. The nanites couldn’t save them. Nanites could keep the crew alive for five minutes, maybe, but that’s a generous estimate. We’re still human.”

“She’s right,” Caber said. “If we’d been suited up and ready to launch when whatever happened happened, then maybe they would’ve stood a chance. But look at them. They’re not even moving anymore… they’re lost.”

Jack clenched his jaw. “We still need to check. If we can’t help the ones outside, maybe there are still people locked up inside that we can save.” He doubted his words as he said them, looking at Aria, which looked to be completely offline.

“Suits are here,” Veda said as he started pulling hab-suits from a storage locker.

Everyone except Kana began to dress.

“What happened over there?” Nalla asked.

“I don’t know,” Caber replied even though Nalla asked no one in particular.

Tommy managed to pull himself out of whatever dark place he’d been lost in for the past several minutes. “Shane was right, wasn’t he? Someone did this.”

“Maybe. We’ll get it figured out,” Jack said. “But we have to deal with the emergency at hand first. First, we look for survivors. Then, we get Aria back online. These shuttles have enough juice to run a week, at most, so that’s the timeline we’re working from.”

“You don’t think Shane killed everyone, do you?” Nalla asked, her eyes wide as she pointed to the objects floating in space.

“No,” Tommy said. “Shane might’ve gone crazy, but he’d never try kill the entire crew.” He clenched his eyes closed. “It was an accident. He didn’t deserve to die.”

“He killed Ollie,” Veda said.

“It was an accident,” Tommy repeated, though Jack wondered if his crewmate was referring to Shane’s or Ollie’s death. Tommy gulped. “Shane was desperate, messed up. He wouldn’t have hurt Ollie if Ollie hadn’t gone at him. Shane was trying to abandon the crew, not kill them.”

“Then we have to assume that whoever killed the crew might still be hiding onboard Aria,” Nalla said.

“Or on this shuttle,” Veda said.

Jack shook his head. “It’s no one on this shuttle.” If the small group suspected one another, they’d never work together.

“Shane kept talking about them, as if there was a group trying to make the crew abandon this mission. I didn’t note any fear towards any of us when we approached him. He didn’t believe anyone on this shuttle was involved,” Caber said.

Jack attached his gloves, leaving only his helmet. He glanced down at Shane and then at Tommy. “If Shane was right, then someone murdered the entire crew and whatever happened wasn’t a horrible system glitch of some kind. We’re alive only because we’re on this shuttle. If the murderers are still alive and onboard Aria, it’s safe to assume they’ll try to kill any of us.”

“What do we do?” Caber asked.

“We kill them,” Veda said. When everyone turned to him, he shrugged. “Sorry, partner. My life’s more important to me than their lives.”

“I’m coming up to Aria now,” Kana said. She bit her lip. “But I can’t reconnect the shuttle to Aria, not manually. It’s impossible. You have to be accurate within an inch or two in order to align the shuttle’s locking bars with Aria’s grabbers. I’m telling you, it can’t be done without automation.”

“It can be done. Get on your hab-suit. I’ll take it from here.” Jack shooed her from her seat. “Back on Taoist, we’d have to sometimes manually connect to dead ships when we couldn’t tow them. You’ve just got to move slow and gentle-like; you’ve got to treat the attachment sequence like you’re trying to squeeze an egg as hard as you can without breaking it.”

“Oh, is that all there is to it?” Veda asked.

Jack ignored him. He held the joystick lightly in his hand—a tight grip would lead to oversteering. He held the joystick like how he’d watched his mother hold a flower when he was just a boy. His father had stolen it from the colony gardens. His mother had let him touch the petals, and he remembered they were the softest thing he’d ever touched in his life. If his memories held true, those petals still were, though a woman’s skin came close.

He closed the distance to Aria, careful to avoid bodies and debris scattered everywhere. Up close, it was obvious no one was still alive. Frozen corpses with frosted over eyeballs. He recognized every single crew member floating out there. They’d become his friends during the five years of living in close quarters. He was closer to some than others—fortunately, his fellow engineers onboard the shuttle with him were some of his closest friends, though not all, as the shuttle passed Jen Stahl. Her eyes and mouth were open, like most, frozen in her last gasp for breath in an environment that offered no compassion for humans. She was now like the rest of the crew—a player caught in an eternal, grotesque play of mannequins.

He couldn’t look away from Stahl. They’d considered sleeping together during the first year of the mission before settling into a more casual relationship. A part of him was glad that they hadn’t become intimate—her loss might hurt more. Another part of him regretted the choice—she deserved to have someone who’d loved her deeply, and who would mourn her deeply.

Eventually, he forced his attention to the task of reconnecting the shuttle to the dead Aria. He slowed the shuttle to a slither and flipped on the docking lights so he could better see the docking claw. Aria’s docking mechanisms were large. Docking would be easier than some and harder than some.

Behind him, some spoke quietly, others were silent, and someone was crying. They seemed to hush—or maybe he blocked out the sound—as he lined up the shuttle’s docking bars to Aria’s claw. He guided the bars, using the shuttle’s thrusters to close the distance to three meters, then two, then one, then bare centimeters until he heard and felt the bars slide into the mouth of the claw. A single burst of thrust brought the bar down into the locking mechanism. With the ship dead, the claw wouldn’t fully clamp down, but it’d hold the shuttle securely enough as long as there was no significant jostling.

“You did it,” Kana said.

Jack powered down the shuttle’s thrusters before he turned to her. “Kana, you need to stay and keep the shuttle ready to go in case something goes to shit while we’re on Aria.”

“But I need to get to the bridge and find out what happened,” she said.

“No way,” Veda said.

“But—” she began.

“We need to clear the ship first,” Jack cut in. “You’re the only software specialist here. We need you to help bring Aria back online.”

“Okay,” she said quietly, then added, “I’ll also run diagnostics on the shuttle to see how much charge it has.”

“Good idea.” Jack looked around and noticed Caber had been the one sobbing. Made sense, since he was the doctor and had cared for each crew member for over five years. “We need someone else to stay on the shuttle to open and close the doors for us, since we can’t do that from Aria yet. Doc, how about you do that.”

Caber nodded.

“Good. Both of you keep your hab-suits on until we clear the ship and are all back onboard the shuttle. We play it safe.” Jack then turned to the other three. “We travel in pairs. Tommy, Veda, you take the back half.”

Tommy stiffened, wiped his eyes, then nodded.

Jack continued. “Nalla and I will take the forward half. If we come up against a crew who wants to hurt us, we run. We can’t afford revenge or heroics right now. We’re making a quick pass of the ship to look for survivors and assess damage. Then we meet back here to figure out our next steps.”

“What do we do if we find a survivor?” Veda asked.

“Get them to the shuttle. We’ll sort things out from there,” Jack answered. “Let’s meet back in here in, say, fifteen minutes. That gives us enough time to do a quick check for survivors and identify if there were any explosions. How’s that sound?”

“Make it twenty,” Tommy said. “I want to check on the reactor in the engine compartment. Reactors can’t be offline for more than a few hours without locking up.”

Jack nodded. “Twenty minutes.”

“Use your suit comms,” Kana said. “We’ll monitor them from here.”

The two pairs of engineers squeezed into the shuttle’s airlock and then through the outer door once the airlock depressurized.

Tommy and Veda turned left.

“Watch your backs,” Jack said.

“Always do,” Veda replied.

Jack turned to Nalla. “Ready for this?”

She nodded. “I have to be.”

They turned right. Where the back half of the ship was primarily storage, systems, and power units, the front half was where the hustle and bustle took place, though now it was pitch black and silent. All the doors on the ship—exterior and interior alike—still stood open. They first passed the medical and health rooms and found nothing. Next came the bathrooms. Again, nothing. The eight bunkrooms and captain’s quarters—which was just another bunkroom with a single bed—stood open, and their emptiness made Jack the most uncomfortable. No one had managed to lock themselves in before whatever happened. From there, the galley, which was across the hall from the captain’s quarters, stood empty, its chairs scattered across the floor. Even the bridge stood wide open. No sign of damage other than scrapes and dents from whatever had caused the ship to do what it did.

“The bridge is supposed to automatically close when there’s a problem,” Nalla said. “It’s like the ship did the opposite of what it was supposed to do. I don’t like this.”

“I don’t either.” Jack expected to see some items still floating with no atmosphere or gravity onboard, but the hallways were completely empty, as though someone had used a high-pressure air hose to push everything out. When he was on a salvage crew, he’d seen plenty of ships that had hull breaches, and there were always some debris left floating after the pressure was sucked out and the (lack of) atmosphere became equalized with the space outside. This was different.

“Kana, are you listening in?” Jack asked.

“Of course. What’s up?”

“We haven’t found any survivors or signs of explosions. What’s even weirder is that there aren’t any floaters. It’s like someone cleared out everyone and everything on this ship. The only things left onboard are what was fastened down or secured in lockers.”

“Wait. You said there’s nothing left floating, as if everything was blown out of the ship, but there wasn’t an explosion?” Caber’s voice came through his helmet.

Jack made eye contact with Nalla. “Yeah. Why?”

“Many medical vessels have a purge feature,” Caber replied

“But Aria is a colony ship, not a medical ship,” Nalla said.

“I know, but Aria is a prototype. I don’t know what kind of platform it was built upon. Maybe it’s built upon a medical vessel design.”

“What’s a purge, Doc?” Jack asked, impatient.

“It’s a safety feature. I think some military ships also have it. Anyway, early in my career, I was interning on a ship that traveled from colony to colony to help out after disasters. One time, it was on an asteroid—I can’t remember its name now—anyway, there was a tunnel collapse that caused a lot of injuries. The mining camp was new and didn’t have a medical facility yet, so we took aboard many of the injured. One of the patients we took aboard was a young man, barely out of his twenties. He had a broken collarbone and rib fractures. Nothing too serious, but the medical scan identified an unknown virus that was rated a level one contagion. That’s a very serious threat, so everyone except the patient was evacuated. As soon as we were on the shuttle, the captain initiated what she called a purge. I watched as everything was blasted from the ship, including the poor patient. I had no idea they were going to kill him. But now that I think about it, it looked a lot like what happened at the Aria. If we’re dealing with a purge, I think only the captain can initiate it.”

“You think Lasseter purged the crew and herself?” Tommy’s voice came through the speakers.

“It’s certainly a possibility,” Caber replied.

“The shuttle’s disconnected from Aria, so I can’t scan the logs to see what happened. Get me on the bridge. Once I reboot the systems, I should be able to see what happened,” Kana said.

“We’ll get you up here soon enough. We haven’t found any immediate threats so far. How about you, Tommy and Veda?” Jack asked.

“Same. We’re at the reactor now, seeing about powering it back up,” Tommy said.

“Is that wise?” Nalla asked, and Jack saw the same concern in her eyes that he was feeling.

“Reactors start to lock up after a few hours of not running. If we need Aria, we need the reactor. Nothing else will power up without it,” Tommy answered.

“Does the reactor system need to be online when you power it back up?” Kana asked.

“Not for standby mode. It’s purely mechanical at that level,” Tommy responded. “Why?”

“Shane had disconnected the shuttle from all networks, and I’m still trying to figure out why he did that,” she said.

“It made him invisible to Aria… and anyone else for that matter,” Jack said, as a theory formed in his mind. “If whoever killed the crew was onboard, then it was a suicide mission. But if whoever killed the crew wasn’t onboard…”

“Then they did it through the network links,” Kana said. “Aria can be completely piloted from the SC3. That way, if the mission failed, they could bring the ship home if they wanted. So, theoretically, someone at the SC3 could’ve caused the glitches, at least the system glitches. They couldn’t have caused any hardware glitches.”

“I think they were all system glitches,” Jack said. “I’d even talked with Lasseter about it. The O-ring issue in the water system was software-related, not hardware-related.”

“You’re saying someone from the SC3 killed the crew?” Tommy said.

Jack shrugged. “Maybe. The only thing we know for sure is that Shane was onto something. I think we try what he tried and make sure every system is completely disconnected from the SC3 network when we bring the systems back online. That includes our armlets—we’d better turn them off—and that goes for Shane’s and Ollie’s—until we know what’s up.”

“That means we won’t be able to communicate with the SC3 or get their help on anything. We’ll be completely alone out here,” Kana said.

Jack exhaled. “I know.”

CHAPTER 11

It took six days to bring Aria’s environmental systems online slowly enough to not fracture lines and tanks. It was still chilly onboard, and the six remaining crew members no longer needed to wear their hab-suits—but everyone wore them still, the helmets dangling from cords, in case the purge happened again. And it had been a purge. Kana confirmed it after she accessed the system logs. Captain Lasseter had initiated the event, which didn’t make sense to anyone. Out of the entire crew, Lasseter had the strongest will and never seemed to waver from the mission. Maybe—hopefully—Kana would find something in Lasseter’s personal logs. The idea of someone as stoic as Lasseter suddenly turning berserk and killing everyone scared the hell out of Jack. If it had happened to her, it could happen to any of them.

Nalla had been running environmental scans, but there were no signs of anything that would’ve caused Lasseter’s meltdown. As if Lasseter’s strange behavior wasn’t weird enough, they were baffled by times in the log. From the time Lasseter activated the purge, the system showed audio and visual warnings replayed constantly throughout the ship until the purge took place fifteen minutes later. The crew would’ve had plenty of time to evacuate to the other shuttle, or at least put on their hab-suits, yet no one had. Outside, bodies were drifting away, and none wore a hab-suit.

With Aria powered up, Jack and Tommy had switched to “reclamation” duty and were collecting what they could. Tommy was still in a funk, blaming himself for Shane’s death, but keeping Tommy busy seemed to keep him focused. Tommy pretended things were all right, but Jack could hear him toss and turn in his bunk during every sleep cycle.

During their work shifts, Jack and Tommy had managed to grab over half of the bodies and material that had been pushed out of Aria—the rest had drifted too far away to locate. They used the second shuttle, keeping its temperature well below freezing. Veda had told them to leave the bodies, that the dead didn’t care. Jack knew that was true, but he needed to bring the crew back for his own mental health. He wouldn’t want to be left floating alone in space forever, and the crew didn’t deserve that either. In the end, after five days of soul-scarring work, they’d located twenty-nine of the original crew and sealed each into a silver crematorium “burn bag.”

Most of the ship’s supplies were in secured crates or lockers. They didn’t need to retrieve what came to nearly a ton of various items that had been jettisoned, from clothing to journals to even three chairs, but Jack and Tommy did, since they figured the more supplies they had, the better.

Finished, Jack was the first to remove his hab-suit and scrub away two weeks of grime. The air still had the “space” smell—a combination of diesel fuel and barbecue. Someone had told him once that the scent came from dying stars. If so, there must’ve been a lot of dying stars out there, because no matter how far he traveled, space always smelled the same.

He left the showers and headed to the galley where everyone was settling in to eat dinner. When he entered, everyone stared.

“You’re not wearing your hab-suit,” Caber said.

Jack took a seat. “No one’s tried to kill us for twelve days. They haven’t even thrown a glitch our way. I think we’re in the clear.”

The room remained silent for a few more seconds. Kana broke the silence. “Lasseter didn’t do it.”

Everyone turned to her.

Kana swallowed. “I read through her journals. All her digital journals were deleted—which is strange—but I found some handwritten notes in her nightstand. She was convinced there was a saboteur causing the ship’s gremlins.”

“Did she say who she thought it was?” Nalla asked.

Kana shook her head. “No. She was careful in her writing. Her journal entries read more like status reports. I don’t think she was going to put down any names until she was sure.”

“Did she at least mention if she thought the person was onboard Aria or back at the SC3?” Veda asked.

Kana shook her head.

“It was the SC3,” Tommy said. “It’s probably some junior officer who got pissy for not getting to go on the mission and fucked us up the ass because of it.”

“Without proof, it’s all speculation.” Caber stood abruptly. “Time to eat.” He grabbed a large bowl filled with a brown stew and set it on the table. Tommy grabbed the ladle and scooped the thick soup into bowls.

“Do you think we should try to call the SC3 and let them know what happened here?” Kana asked.

“Fuck no. Doing that is just begging for shit to start happening to us again,” Veda answered.

“Veda’s right,” Jack said. “Nothing’s happened since we’ve been off the networks, so let’s not push our luck. We stay off the network.”

“For how long?” Kana asked.

“For now,” he replied.

“This crap tastes like shit balls.” Tommy dropped his spoon and stew splattered. “All the flavor’s gone. Every damn food pod on this ship’s got freezer burn.”

“Get used to it, cause it ain’t going to get any better,” Veda grumbled.

“That worries me,” Caber said.

Veda’s brows rose. “That worries you? The rest of the crew got purged and the same thing could happen to us any minute, and the taste of our food worries you? Christ, Doc. You and I’ve got different priorities.”

Caber’s jaw tightened. “Yes, the flavor of our food worries me, because it’s small things that affect our five senses that lead to depression. The gardens froze and we have nothing to restart them. We might have survived a murder attempt, but we still have to survive the mission.”

Veda chortled. “The mission’s over, Doc. It died with Lasseter.”

Jack frowned as he realized he hadn’t considered the mission yet. “Doc brings up a point. The six of us have to make that decision. Do we keep going, or do we turn back?”

Nalla shrugged. “I think that question is moot. All the seeds were destroyed during the purge. With no seeds, wherever we go, even if we find a Cinderella planet and settled it, once we die, humanity dies there.”

“Sounds lonely.” Tommy said, grimacing before eating a spoonful of stew.

“But we could still explore and discover new worlds,” Kana said.

“And who would we tell about it if we can’t talk to anyone?” Veda asked.

Kana grumbled and then took a bite of stew.

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Jack said. “We can stay parked here until we reach a decision. With just the six of us, our nanites will burn out long before our food runs out. So, let’s stay here and take the time we need now. We still have to hold service for the crew, so we can make our decision after that.”

Veda glared. “You’ve been ordering us around for the past two weeks. You’re a space janitor, just like me. You’re nothing special. So what I want to know is, who made you captain?”

“I’m not captain,” Jack said.

“Then quit acting like one,” Veda snarled.

“Shut up, Veda,” Kana snapped. She took a deep breath. “We need a captain, and I vote for Jack.”

Veda’s jaw slackened. “But I’m your husband. You’re supposed to support me.”

“And I love you and support you, but I also have to do what’s right for the crew. And I think Jack would make a better captain. Sorry, hon.”

“All right, let’s vote,” Tommy said. “All in favor for Jack as the captain, say, aye.”

Everyone said aye except Jack and Veda. Kana stared at Veda, who grumbled, “Aye.”

She clapped her hands together. “There. We have a captain. All right, Captain. What’s your first order?”

Jack suddenly felt self-conscious. He scanned the five other faces in the room. All looked at him expectantly, some with hope, others with caution.

He leaned back in his chair. “First order is everyone take a shower after dinner. You all stink.”

CHAPTER 12

They launched the burn bags the next day. Jack piloted the shuttle while Tommy pushed each bag out. The pair wore their hab-suits, since it would’ve taken forever to move one bag at a time through the airlock. When the final bag was gone, Tommy gave Jack a thumbs-up.

Jack steered back to Aria and let the system auto-dock for him. He had enough on his mind. Once they were docked, the pair entered Aria and joined the others in the galley, the room with the best view from the side of the ship.

Caber was holding a tablet while Nalla had a hand on his back. “I’m ready whenever you are,” he said. “Does anyone want to say any words first?”

There was silence for at least ten seconds. Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Nalla spoke first.

“We became a crew when Aria launched from the SC3 space docks, but we became a family during the first year of the mission. Like any family, there were some butting heads and colorful debates, but there was also a genuine care for one another. Having a shared mission united us, but it was each person’s individuality that made the mission worth taking and even fun. I will treasure the memory of the forty-two crew members we’ve lost.”

Jack considered adding on personal analogies, but decided Nalla’s statement covered it all. He quietly said to Caber, “Do it.”

The flight medic started tapping icons on his tablet. An icon for each bag. The first bag erupted into a ball of sparkling flames before extinguishing into nothingness, everything burning away in an instant of intense heat. The remaining bags burned, each one a fraction of a second after another, giving a light show of fireflies until space had become dark and empty once again.

After a length of silence, Nalla took heavy steps and slumped into a chair. “They think we’re dead, don’t they?”

Everyone knew who they were. Jack saw the sadness in her gaze. “The SC3 has to know Aria went offline and that the armlets went offline soon after. They’ve likely run the scenarios and assumed that we were hit by massive radiation, something nasty enough to take out all our systems, or that the ship suffered a cat fail that led to a secondary disaster that was bad enough to take the armlets offline. If someone was watching closely, they might’ve seen that our armlets stayed online for a minute or two, but not long enough for them to suspect we survived. So, yeah, I think they’ve already made the call that the Aria mission failed and we’re all dead.”

“Being dead’s not so bad. It means I don’t have to worry about the ex-wives trying to call me anymore,” Tommy said as he took a seat on the couch and propped his feet up.

“Speak for yourself. I had a fan club back on Earth,” Veda said.

“We’re not dead. They’re dead.” Caber pointed outside the window, and everyone sobered.

“You’re right,” Jack said finally. “We’re not dead, but everyone in the system thinks we are. That makes Hardware Specialist 3 Jack Halverton dead and buried in the court of law. Everyone thinks we’re dead, and we have to stay dead, or else our lives are at risk again. Someone killed the crew. If it hadn’t been for Shane, we’d be dead too. I say let’s bury our names and Aria along with it.”

When he noticed the crew watching him with confusion, he continued. “It doesn’t matter which direction we fly. We’re free agents now. Aria’s ours, and our lives are ours. But if the murderer suspects we’re still alive, they’re going to come after us. That means we have to become new people, and Aria needs to become a completely new ship.”

“We’d have to completely change Aria inside and out. You know how long that could take?” Nalla asked.

Veda shrugged. “Time’s one thing we got plenty of.”

“We have four hardware engineers, a software engineer, and a medic. I think we can do anything we set our minds to. We look after ourselves and the ship. Then we figure out what’s next,” Jack said.

For the first time since the attack, the mood in the group began to shift. The new mood was palpable: hope.

“We need new names,” Tommy said, wringing his hands in anticipation.

“Yeah, I guess so. That goes for us and Aria,” Jack said.

Tommy grinned. “My name’s Burn Ransom.”

Jack frowned.

Kana spoke. “Wait. Isn’t that a character from a book?”

“It was, but it’s me now,” Tommy said, his chest puffed out.

“Burn Ransom? That name sucks,” Veda said.

Tommy—aka Burn—frowned. “It doesn’t suck. That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

“It’s going to take a while to get used to that,” Jack said.

“Like Veda said. Time, we’ve got,” Tommy said.

“Well, I’m not changing my first name. My parents gave it to me, and I like it,” Veda said.

“And I like mine. But we need to at least change our last name,” Kana said.

“You don’t like Corcoran?” Veda asked, sounding hurt.

Kana held up a hand. “I do, but I’m thinking of our safety. How about that neighbor lady who always gave you treats as a boy?”

“Mrs. Kocher?”

“Yes. How about Kocher?” Kana asked.

Veda thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess that’s not so bad.”

Jack turned to Nalla and Caber.

Nalla spoke first. “We’ll figure out something. We don’t have to decide right away, do we?”

Jack shook his head. “It’s no hurry.”

“How about you, Jack?” Tommy asked.

Jack shrugged. “I’ve always been fine with Jack.”

“Sure, but you’ve got to at least change your last name, like Veda and Kana,” Tommy countered.

“I’ll figure it out.”

Veda said, “While you’re figuring it out, we need to decide where we go now. I’m thinking we find a cozy asteroid to settle into until we get Aria remodeled. Maybe even head back to a mining camp to join up.”

“Face it, honey, we’re strays. We can’t go back to Sol Corps without being killed, and there’s no future for us outside the system. Not anymore. No one wants us, and we have nowhere to go,” Kana said.

Tommy chuckled. “The Sol Corps strays, that’s us.”

Jack shook his head. “We might be strays, but you’re wrong about one thing. We can go anywhere we damn well please.”

PART TWO

CHILDREN OF SOL

CHAPTER 1

ARCLIGHT CORPORATE MINING CAMP NUMBER SIX, PALLAS, 2357 AD

Heddi hustled through the drafty Arclight tunnels on her way home. Her coat was too short in the arms and had so many patches you could no longer see the original material. The shoulders were so tight, the threads kept coming loose. She’d asked her father for a new coat for her birthday. Instead, her thirteenth birthday had long since come and gone without him even remembering.

She weaved around the miners, who were just leaving second shift. Her quickened breath tickled her nose under the dust mask. Classes had been cut short today because of another rolling power outage, and she was glad. She could grab her Starforce 5000 notebook and leave before her father got home. At the next intersection, she turned left and ran down the row of apartment cubes. Theirs was the fourteenth cube on the right. She swung open the door and jumped inside, only to stumble to a stop.

Her father was fully reclined in the chair that doubled as his bed. He had one forearm covering his eyes, and he held up his other hand. “Shh. Keep it down.”

Her lips parted. “What’re you doing home early?”

“Got another migraine. Company won’t replace them damned faulty air filters. Bad air’s making everyone sick.”

She didn’t mention that “everyone” had likely worked a full day except for him. Her fists clenched. He never let her go to the café to play games. She’d quit asking a long time ago. The excitement she’d felt a minute ago left her with a sigh. She shuffled through the square room, picking up her father’s coat, boots, and socks that he’d dropped along the way to plopping down in his chair for the night.

As she filled her arms, she scanned the room. “Where’s your kit?”

“My kit?”

“Yeah, your kit.”

“Ah… hell, guess I left it at the job site.”

She grumbled. “Last time, they docked you a whole day’s pay for not having your tools charged.”

He started to pull himself up and then plopped back down with a groan and rubbed his temples. “Go get it, will ya?”

She dumped his belongings in the corner next to his chair-bed. “Don’t know where you left it.”

He didn’t answer her for ages. She was about to ask him when he said, “Remember setting it down for break. Left it under a bench by shaft number fourteen.”

She sighed deeply. “Be back in an hour.”

“And pick up some nicotea on the way home.”

She pursed her lips and checked her armlet. “Only twelve credits in the account. Need that for food.”

“Nicotea’s the only thing that helps my headaches. Please, Heddi.” He rolled away from her.

She huffed and headed back into the tunnels, which were as busy as before. The shift had changed, but people were still out and about to grab their dinner from the company cafeterias stationed every five hundred meters. The smell of food made her stomach growl and her mouth water as she walked by the cafeteria her cube block used.

She swallowed back the spit in her mouth. She’d get breakfast at the school—that was the best thing about going to school. They at least made sure everyone had something to eat each day. Heddi wasn’t the only kid who went early for the free breakfast, though she was the only one who went early who still had a parent. The other hungries had lost their parents to mining accidents. Even though her father was still alive, Heddi figured she lost him when her mother died in a collapsed tunnel. He’d never really come back from that.

Rather than taking the regular tunnels, she took shortcut alleys. They were poorly lit and bitterly cold sections, but they could save her a solid fifteen minutes on the current trip. Pallas Six was set up in a star tunnel network. The first mine was drilled near what was now the colony center. Tunnels were built outward as new mining shafts were dug. The number one cause of death for young children was falling down old shafts, since so many were poorly covered. Heddi had lost two classmates that way, a good reminder to always look where you were going.

A slanted alley brought her to the town center where someone was always singing, dancing, or ranting—usually ranting. Today was no different, except that she recognized the man on stage. It was Willie, one of her father’s coworkers and a decent fellow. He’d had a son that was Heddi’s age who was killed in an elevator collapse. Willie had lost his hand trying to reach his son, but things didn’t turn out in his favor. A while after that, Willie seemed to take her class under his wing, and her especially. He’d even bought her dinner a few times, and she sometimes wished he’d been her father instead of the dud she’d got.

Willie had a sizeable crowd, and she weaved through it to get closer to the stage. Everyone was taller than her, so she could only hear him as she made her way.

“… spend our lives in shafts pulling out metals for Sol Corps to give the Waynkers to replicate. Last year, they claimed sixty-eight percent of our haul. Sixty-eight percent of our haul that gets taken before our pay is calculated. That means we got paid for only thirty-two percent of our labor, and of that thirty-two percent, over half that goes to Arclight for owning mining rights and the colony. When it’s all said and done, we bring home four percent—that’s right, four percent—of our actual earnings. That’s barely enough to keep our families’ fed, let alone any decent medical care. This ain’t thriving. Hell, this ain’t even surviving. Sol Corps and the corporations will keep taking and taking until we demand our fair share.”

Heddi made it to the front of the crowd. Willie noticed and gave her a wink before continuing. “We need to take a stand, or else they will continue to ignore us. If we unite, they will be forced to listen. As of midnight tonight, all Arclight pitters are asked to go on strike.” There were murmurs in the crowd. “We must strike until our voice is heard. It will be hard in the short-term. We all struggle as it is, but we must look at the long-term, for our children’s sake. Do you want to see your children struggle in the mines like you do, working yourself to an early grave so that the Waynkers can build their armies? Or do you want to take a stand to give your children a chance at a future where they can go to bed on full stomachs and see other worlds?”

The crowd cheered. Heddi noticed the Arclight security team approaching the stage, and she stared. As the armored guards stepped onto the stage, the crowd booed. Willie noticed them then and shouted, “Midnight tonight! Let’s change the future!”

Two guards had their stunners drawn, while the other two stood near the steps.

“That’s enough, Willie. One of these days, you and your bitterender antics are gonna get you arrested,” the first guard said, her voice almost taunting.

“These ain’t antics. These are about getting folks to see that Sol Corps and their Waynkers ain’t looking out for our best interests.”

“It ain’t Waynkers; it’s Waymakers, and they don’t appreciate being called anything else,” the lead guard said. “Now, you can walk off this stage on your own or we can take you off. Your call.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Willie held out his hand and stump as he stepped down from the stage.

Heddi stayed close but out of the guards’ reach.

“And you better let your fellow bitterenders know, Sol Corps’ taken an interest in you guys,” the lead said.

Willie lifted his chin. “Good. Then maybe we can have a conversation finally. How they’re treating the common folk ain’t right.”

The guard chortled. “Sol Corps doesn’t converse with pitters, or any colonists for that matter. If you think they care about you, you’re wrong. All they care about is output.”

“Well, then we need to make them care.”

“Careful with those words, Willie. That sounds almost like insurrection, and Sol Corps doesn’t take kindly to that.” The guard motioned to her team, and they walked away.

Willie watched them leave before turning to Heddi. “What’d you think about my speech?”

She shrugged. “Sounded good, I guess.”

He chuckled, placing his bearpaw of a hand on her shoulder. “Have you gotten any grub yet?”

She shook her head.

“C’mon, I’ll get you hooked up. You’re a scrawny one. You keep missing meals, you’re gonna start floating.” He kept his hand on her shoulder, walking her with him. “I saw your pops cut out early today. He doing any better?”

“Got another migraine,” she replied.

“If it ain’t a headache, it’s a pulled muscle; if it ain’t a pulled muscle, it’s something else.” Willie gave Heddi an apologetic look. “Sorry, kid. We can’t pick our pops. Some get winners. And some… well, some get pops like yours.” He motioned. “Let’s grab our grub here.”

They steered toward a cafeteria that Heddi hadn’t eaten at before, not that it mattered. Every cafeteria was identical, and every cafeteria served that same brown goo. They’d nearly reached the door when the lights inside went out. Then lights blinked out all around them.

“Great, another rolling outage,” Willie muttered.

An automated voice came over the colony’s speaker system. “This colony is being served a cancellation notice. Effective immediately, due to costs exceeding revenue for three straight periods, Arclight mining colony number six on Pallas is being shut down. All contracts are hereby cancelled. All systems will be shut down. Thank you for your service.”

Any remaining lights blinked out. It was so dark that Heddi couldn’t see her hand when she held it up. Everything stilled. It seemed like no one moved, though she could hear concerned conversations all around.

“Never heard it so quiet before,” she said.

Willie pulled her closer to him. “That’s cause the environmentals ain’t never been shut down before.”

She felt him fidget, then he clicked on a flashlight, which he handed to her. “Here, hold on to this for a minute.”

She took it while he tapped his armlet’s screen over and over. It made her curious, so she tapped her armlet, the movement making the light move around erratically. She frowned and tapped it again. “My screen’s dead.”

“Mine too, Heddi.” He pulled out a small tablet, which she noticed still had power. He rested it against his forearm as he tapped out a quick message, then slid the tablet back into his pocket. He caught her watching him. “The Waynkers can’t block all the signals.”

He looked around. His eyes were wide and his face seemed pale, but it could’ve been the flashlight’s tricks. Willie looked scared, and she’d never seen Willie scared before. He was too big and strong to be scared. He caught her watching him. “I ain’t gonna lie to you, kid. This is bad.” He grabbed the flashlight and shone the light around them, where voices were rising to frantic octaves, and then in her direction. “C’mon. Hold onto my arm. I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond; he tugged her with him through the tunnels. He was so much taller that she had to jog to keep up with his longer strides.

They’d entered the mining tunnels, and Heddi grew concerned. “Should check on Pops.”

“Later, kid. Your pops can take care of himself.”

“Really think that?”

He chuckled. “He’s probably in a nicotea stupor right now and sleeping through this entire scare. Don’t worry none about him. Your pops is fine.”

The air was becoming colder, and her teeth chattered as he rushed her along. She also found that she was breathing faster and harder, but still felt like she wasn’t getting enough air. That was weird since she’d felt a lot lighter than before, like she could jump a hundred meters if she tried.

She didn’t know how he knew where they were going, but she was completely lost. “Where we going?” she asked after an abrupt shiver.

“Almost there.” He turned them left into a narrow tunnel, so narrow that they couldn’t walk side by side, and he pulled her along behind him. At the end, he stopped, and she bumped into him.

He stuck the flashlight in his teeth before he cranked open a thick metal door that creaked as it pulled outward. He pulled her inside with him. “This is an old fire shelter. Completely airtight, so it’ll buy you some time.”

He rummaged through items on the metal shelves that lined the walls. Pulling out a lantern, he turned it on, shedding a decent glow over the space that was easily as big as the cube Heddi lived in with her father. Willie set the lantern in the center of the floor and dragged a large device out. He yanked on a cable. After three yanks, the contraption whirred to life. It sputtered and settled into a hum.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“This is an oxygenator. It’ll keep the air supply going in here.” He rummaged through the shelves, dropping some bags of water on the floor, and grabbed a respirator before turning back to her. “Can’t find a heater, so it might get a bit chilly before I get back. Be sure to grab a heater on my way.”

“Don’t leave,” she said.

“Got to, kid. Ain’t no one else going to help us, even if they wanted to. Camp Four is off-route for most, and Pallas ain’t an easy asteroid to land on. Got to look after ourselves here. I’m one of the few engineers who know the generators and can get them up and running. Now listen, I’m going to lock you in here to keep anyone else from taking over this shelter. But don’t worry none, I’ll be back, and I’ll bring your pops with me.”

“Go with you,” she said, her fear as tall as the dancing shadows in the shelter.

“No. Things are going to go downhill fast out there. Couldn’t keep Willie Junior safe, but I can keep you safe.” He headed to the door. She followed, but he blocked her. “Might take a while to get back, so hang tight and keep yourself warm.” He thought for a moment, tucked the flashlight under his armpit, and pulled out the tablet. “Hang onto this for me until I get back.”

She gulped and clutched the tablet to her chest.

He gave her a half-smile. “Chin up. Be right back.”

The door closed with a heavy creak, and she heard the locks clang into place. She ran to the door and tried to open it, but couldn’t. She sucked in a deep breath, still hugging the tablet, and sat next to the lantern. She tapped the tablet every few minutes to check the time. After an hour, she went through all the boxes on the metal shelves. She found fire blankets and pulled them all out, forming a cocoon for her.

Another hour passed, and Willie hadn’t returned. She wanted to use his tablet to call him and her pops, but couldn’t get back to the authentication screen. She hugged herself, shivering in the cold.

It was so cold. She sipped on a bag of water and found that it was a weird gel-like water. But it tasted mostly like water, so she drank it anyway.

As the hours passed, she checked the time less and less. When the lantern died, she burrowed deep into the blankets and whimpered.

Her world had gone dark and silent, except for the hum of the oxygenator. She yelled for Willie until her throat hurt and she was too exhausted.

She fell asleep to the sound of her own crying.

PART THREE

RED ROVER, RED ROVER

CHAPTER 1

Asteroid belt, 2357 AD

“We’re coming up on the drone,” Jack said through the boom in his helmet.

“I’m picking up both you and Burn loud and clear on my sensors, but still nothing from the drone,” Kana replied from Cabrón’s bridge.

“It’s dead, all right. Not a glimpse of life from what I can tell,” Burn said.

“I’m opening the control panel now,” Jack said. As soon as he’d removed the cover plate, he knew the problem. “Ah, fuck. All the wires have been cut. We’re going to have to replace the whole damn unit.”

“The collection tray’s empty. I’d bet red to rovers that whoever buggered the drone emptied the tray first, and I think we all know who’s enough of a dick to do that,” Burn said.

“Tally. That bastard. He’s gone too far this time,” Kana said.

“What’d that good-for-nothing junker do now?” Veda chimed in. His voice grew in volume, like he’d spoken while entering the bridge.

“He sabotaged the collector drone,” Kana said.

“And he stole all the junk it’d collected. The first is mean enough, but the second is downright assholish,” Burn added.

“I’ll take care of him. Just say the word, Jack,” Veda said.

Jack finished detaching the control panel and used his thrusters to jettison from the drone. “Let’s talk about it once we’re back onboard. Burn, tag the drone so we can track it. I have the panel and am heading back now.”

“Already done.”

Jack was midway between Cabrón and the busted junk collector drone when Burn flew up alongside him. They headed toward their ship in silence. Jack enjoyed spacewalks as much as Burn did. There was something about the absolute lack of gravity that brought a surreal peace to being outside the ship in only a hab-suit. Sometimes there was also a perfect, star-dotted nothingness around them, but never in the asteroid belt. There were too many objects—both natural and artificial—to reflect sunlight.

Cabrón reflected very little light. The crew had blackened the hull—with a carbon fiber “char” because paint was eaten away too quickly by solar radiation—so that it blended in with the surrounding space. It was a modification they’d made long ago, when they didn’t want to be picked up by satellites, though any object could still be picked up easily enough by radio-frequency scans if someone was inquisitive enough. The ship still had a somewhat elliptical shape, and it still had two shuttles, but its smooth curves had been sharpened into hard lines and edges, and it now bore two long retrieval arms—almost resembling horns—that gave it a menacing look. Cabrón had been mistaken for a raider rather than a space junk collector more than once, and Jack didn’t mind. It kept the riffraff away.

Jack and Burn reached Airlock One together, and Burn opened the door. Jack held the panel close to his chest as he entered behind, and he immediately felt his weight settle onto the floor. The door behind them closed, and the small chamber whirred to life as pressurized air filled the chamber. The entire process took under five seconds—better than most ships, but Jack wanted to see about cutting that time in half. As soon as the light near the ceiling flashed green, Burn opened the door and they entered the ship.

Burn removed his helmet before assisting Jack with his, and the pair headed straight for the bridge where Kana sat at her usual station and Veda was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Can it be fixed?” Veda asked as Jack and Burn entered.

“Yeah. It was a quick and dirty job. All they did was cut the wiring,” Jack said.

“That’s exactly what happened to two other junker crews in my net group,” Kana said. “The Free Spirit crew even saw the Krasniqj cut out after sabotaging and robbing their collector drone.”

“This makes the third time Tally’s stolen someone’s junk haul,” Veda said.

“That we know of,” Burn added.

“But it’s the first time for us, and we need to be sure that it’s Frank Tally before Veda pays him a visit. Tally has enough connections that if his death isn’t clean—” Jack said.

“It’ll be clean,” Veda interrupted.

“Just in case it’s not, we need to make sure we can prove he went after us first. Otherwise, we can end up with Spacecology on our backs,” Jack said.

“I can run an exhaust scan,” Kana said. “We couldn’t have missed the Krasniqj by more than a day or two, tops.”

“Do it,” Jack said, then turned to Veda. “If we can match a signature to the Krasniqj, then we’ll drop you off when we unload our haul. Tally’s got to go through there sometime.”

Veda rubbed his hands together. “I’m looking forward to making his acquaintance.”

“We’ve got a problem,” Burn said. Everyone turned to him, and he continued. “This stop would’ve filled our hold. You know Jaeden will dock us for not bringing in a full haul.”

“I’ll ask him nicely not to dock us,” Jack said.

“Oh great. Then he’ll dock us twice as much,” Burn said.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Kana spoke first. “Call request coming in from Domino.”

Jack frowned. He’d just seen her a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t her style to check in so soon. He took a seat in the captain’s chair and accepted the call. The dark-skinned woman’s visage appeared on-screen. His smile was genuine. She was far too easy on the eyes. “Hey, Domino. How’s it going?”

“Hale, I wish this was a social call, but I need a favor,” she said.

He narrowed his gaze. “Favors cost money.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different from you. I’ll pay. Ten thousand credits, but you have to bring my friend back to me—alive—for that.”

His upper lip stiffened. “I’m not a taxi service.”

“It’s not that.” Her hard features were enough to let Jack know that she was worried. “Something bad’s happened to Pallas Six. The entire camp went dark twelve hours ago. A very good friend of mine—he goes by the name of One-Hand Willie—was down there when it happened. Pallas is right along your route, so I know it’s not far out of your way.”

“You want me to fly down to a camp that could’ve had a reactor meltdown and be fully radioactive, for all you know, to see if one of your rebel buddies is still alive?”

She gave him a droll stare. “You have equipment that will tell you if it’s radioactive down there. And I never said anything about rebels.”

No, she didn’t, but she wasn’t a very good liar. “Let me talk it over with my crew.”

“Something bad happened down there, Hale. Willie had sent me a message saying that everything went offline right when they were launching a miners’ strike. You know what that means, right?”

He sobered. “It means they ticked off Sol Corps, which anyone in this system knows better than to do.”

“That’s easy to say from where you sit. Try living in one of those camps for a week.”

Veda nodded to get Jack’s attention. “Hold on for a minute. I’m going to talk with my crew.” He muted the call and turned to Veda.

“If it’s been twelve hours, everyone’s dead. I’ve been to Pallas Six once, and its insulated barrier had more cracks in it than a Ceres ice cube,” Veda said.

“Even temporary mining camps have hab-shelters. If Sol Corps shut down their power, they aren’t going to send in first responders. It’s worth checking out to see if anyone’s still alive,” Kana said.

Jack turned to Burn, who shrugged. “I’m bored. I say, what the hell, let’s go check it out. Maybe we’ll even have a little fun along the way.”

Jack considered the job another moment before unmuting the call. “We’ll check it out, but we need two thousand up front.”

“Deal.” She agreed too quickly, which made Jack wonder exactly how close of a friend this One-Hand Willie was. “I’ll send you his personal details and geolocator tag so you can find him. It’s not a Corps tag, so you shouldn’t have to worry about shadows.”

“I’ll report after we check out Pallas Six.” He disconnected the call and exhaled. “Veda, it looks like your side project will have to wait.”

“Pallas is just under fourteen hours from us,” Kana said. “Want me to file the flight plan?”

Jack thought for a moment. “No. Mask the transponder code too. Let’s keep this job under the radar. Maybe Sol Corps isn’t watching traffic too closely in that area.”

She cocked her head. “You do realize that we have to fly right by a Waymaker factory on our way to Pallas, right?

He nodded. “I do, and I don’t want to offer up any more information than is absolutely necessary to those Waynkers.”

CHAPTER 2

Charles Metrell’s computer chimed, waking him from slumber. He groaned as he rolled out of bed. Nothing good ever transpired in the middle of the night. He padded barefoot from his bedroom to his office and entered his code. A new entry appeared in his log.

Unidentified ship on trajectory to Pallas Six site. Not flying with transponder codes is a violation of the Sol Corps treaty of 2099. Recommended response: take the violator’s propulsion system offline and have a Sol Corps vessel inspect the ship for contraband.

Unidentified meant one of two things: pirates or smugglers. Even though the news hadn’t broken yet, Charles wasn’t surprised that scavengers would be the first to the scene. The vultures seemed to have extrasensory perception when it came to raiding the dead.

“How far out are they?” Metrell asked.

Five hours, forty-one minutes, sixteen seconds.

“Let them pass through. If we stop this one, we’ll have to stop the next one and so on. I’d rather get a full night’s rest. Prep the official news report for Pallas Six.” He sneered. “Set it to air in six hours. That’ll keep the pirates from getting too greedy robbing the dead.”

CHAPTER 3

Jack made sure to keep Cabrón on its flight path as they passed the Waymaker replication factory. Even without transmitting transponder codes, he knew that the Waymakers would have picked up the ship on their scans as soon as it’d entered their quadrant.

“No incoming message requests yet,” Kana said. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“It’s not their job to enforce human laws, so they shouldn’t care about us flying dark, as long as they don’t identify Cabrón as a threat to their baby factory.” Jack zoomed in on the image of the Waymaker plant twelve thousand kilometers away. The factory reminded him of an oblong asteroid the size of Ceres—if that asteroid had been made out of pure metal and covered in blinking lights. A massive dock covered a flat area comprising at least a third of the total surface. At one end, a shiny Waymaker probe—likely just out of assembly—launched, adjusted its trajectory, and then shot forward, likely to a system many, many light-years away.

Waymakers were ugly things made purely for space travel. Roundish machines covered in sensors and arrays. Jack saw them rarely. According to their history that Sol Corps shared, the AI species was designed to travel the universe. They’d leave one probe in each system that had the potential for life, building replication factories every few light-years or so.

They seemed harmless enough and tended to avoid all human contact, but Jack still didn’t trust them… though he didn’t trust anything or anyone who wasn’t a part of his crew.

“I swear those tankers bring twice as many loads to the factories than they do to human colonies.” Kana pointed to a Sol Corps tanker attached to a bay and likely in process of unloading thousands of tons of metals and minerals to be converted into new Waymakers.

“At least twice as many, and every year the numbers get even more skewed,” Jack agreed.

“All that material just to replicate some Von Neumann probes so the Waymakers can travel to all reaches of the universe and spread their almighty knowledge,” she said without looking up. Her fingers were flying over her panel, which meant she was deep in a game.

“Yeah, how altruistic of them,” he said wryly.

When the first Waymaker had arrived in Sol, over two hundred years ago, humans had thought they’d gotten the better end of the deal. Getting access to an advanced AI’s knowledge base in exchange for providing raw materials. Jack had come to believe it was the other way around; the Waymakers had received the better end of the deal. Their probe that had arrived in Sol had given a few how-to guides in exchange for continual free labor and resources for replicating itself so that it could more quickly canvass nearby star systems.

Though really, Sol Corps—the deal-broker—came out better than anyone. As the clearinghouse of Waymaker knowledge, all Earth nations had to submit to the Sol Corps peace treaty in order to be a player in Earth’s new multi-planetary empire. Where the Waymakers were neutral in system-wide politics, Sol Corps, as the de facto Waymaker liaison, had all the control as long as they didn’t resort to outright violence. Sure, Earth’s nations still existed, along with new colonies and corporations, but everyone played Sol Corps’ game, and everyone used Waymaker systems. To break the rules or to try to quit the game meant the Sol Corps could revoke access to crucial systems at a moment’s notice.

Funny thing about Sol Corps. For being a nonviolent government entity, plenty of people died under its reprimands. The Waymakers had been the first to turn off systems, though they had only turned off weapons systems, never anything close to life support. Sol Corps took Waymaker practices ten steps further by enforcing absolute submission to their oversight.

Corporations were contracted to manage the colonies, which then contracted people to do the work. That gave Sol Corps a thin veneer of capitalism over the universal socialism they’d established, making it palatable to many at the beginning. Jack was no historian, but he’d seen enough change in his day. What seemed to shine and sparkle in the early years was now tarnished and covered in soot. No one was happy, and he’d watched colony protests and worker strikes erupt in greater frequency with each passing decade. The people weren’t happy—after all, humanity’s default condition was to be not happy—and they were growing restless in their unhappiness.

Maybe it was time for Cabrón to move beyond the solar system.

A beep sounded on Kana’s panel, and she jumped. “The scan I ran on the exhaust signatures around our busted collector drone is finally done. The unknown exhaust signature I picked up near the collector drone is a seventy-two percent match with the model of ship that Tally flies.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Not as close a match as I wanted.”

She shrugged. “The exhaust had degraded by the time I scanned it. I hope it’s close enough, because Veda’s got his heart set on taking a holiday.” Another beep sounded, and she cocked her head. “All right, we’re an hour out from Pallas. Do you want me to ping Pallas Station with our intent to land a shuttle at Pallas Six?”

“No. I’d rather not have Cabrón on record for going into a potential shit storm. Besides, we have time in case they ping us first; we’re not required to ping them until we reach orbit anyway.” Jack stood. “I’m going to get geared up. Let me know if anyone contacts us.”

“Will do,” Kana said without looking up.

Jack headed to his quarters and put on his hab-suit. He strapped a holster and sheath over his suit, because one could never be too careful entering a mining camp when it was booming, and Pallas Six clearly wasn’t booming. He grabbed his helmet and headed to the shuttle where he found Burn stowing a first aid bag.

“I take it you won the bet,” Jack said.

Burn grinned. “Yep. Veda’s stuck onboard this time. But in all fairness, he has Kana, and all I have is—well—I have this.” He held up his hand.

Jack gave him a droll stare.

“Anyway, how are we looking on time?” Burn asked.

“Forty minutes before departure, give or take,” Jack said.

Burn nodded. “Then I’d better get my suit on for the party. Have we picked up any spectators yet?”

“Not yet. We made it past the factory without even a raised eyebrow.”

Burn chuckled. “You gotta hand it to those Waynkers. They sure don’t seem to care one bit about human stuff as long as we’re not shooting at each other.”

Jack held up a finger. “Just because they don’t care doesn’t mean they’re not watching. There’re shadows everywhere.”

“Preaching to the choir, Jack. Preaching to the choir.”

Jack gave a small nod and headed back to the bridge.

Kana glanced up as he entered. “We’re coming into orbit. I didn’t send a ping, but I’ve pulled up Pallas Station’s automated briefing.”

He took a seat. “And what’s the station reporting?”

She read her screen. “Looks like all we got is the Station’s automated responder. All landing zones are active, but Pallas Six is experiencing technical difficulty. Landing not recommended. Any ships who choose to land there won’t receive support. Blah, blah, blah. You know the script.”

Jack frowned. “Domino said that they were experiencing something a shade worse than technical difficulty.”

“Yeah, but you know Sol Corps’ red tape bullshit. If Pallas Station hasn’t confirmed contact with someone from Pallas Six, then they just run the automated response. I bet that folks in Pallas Station are nervous, but no one wants to go check it out and confirm their suspicions. Ignorance is bliss and all that.”

Ignorance couldn’t have been blissful for the flight operations crew at Pallas Station. Chances were they had friends at Pallas Six along with every other mining camp on the asteroid. They had to be practically pissing themselves with fear. Maybe they had sent someone to Six by now. Regardless, all that mattered to Jack at that moment was landing without being hassled.

He programmed the ship to maintain orbit above Pallas Six. “Okay, Cabrón is set to hold position. The ship’s yours,” he said, coming to his feet.

“I have the ship. Be careful down there,” she said.

“Always am.”

She laughed. “Sure you are.”

He left the bridge, passing Veda on the way, who was also in a hab-suit… along with three holsters and at least two sheaths.

“I’ll be in shuttle two, ready to head down if you need backup,” Veda said.

“Hopefully this will be a quick in-and-out.”

“If hope predicted the future, then we’d be living very different lives right now,” Veda replied.

“That we would.” Jack squeezed the other man’s shoulder and then headed to shuttle one.

Burn was already buckled in the passenger seat. As Jack settled into the pilot’s seat, his first mate rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get this party started.”

Jack handed Burn a small tablet. “I added this Willie guy’s geolocator tag to the map.”

Burn ran his fingers over the screen. “Looks like the signal’s coming in loud and clear. Should be a piece of cake finding this guy.” He frowned. “Wait. These tag numbers are weird. This isn’t an armlet tag.”

“No. Domino said it’s a dark tag, so my guess it comes from a piece of tech that’s not exactly legal.”

He held the tablet in the air. “If we get caught with this, they’ll just assume we’re smugglers or pirates or some other equally unsavory sort.”

“We’re junkers. They assume that already. That’s why we’re flying in the dark,” Jack said as he powered up the shuttle’s systems and ran pre-flight checks.

“Well, hopefully Sol Corps doesn’t decide to hassle us. I’m getting cranky. You know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex? Four months.”

“Four whole months? No wonder you’re so grumpy lately,” Jack said drily as he detached the shuttle from Cabrón. He entered in the landing coordinates, but rather than engaging autopilot, he kept the controls. “We’ll be heading to Woven City to drop off our haul as soon as we pick up this Willie guy. You can make up for lost time then.”

“Maybe earlier than that. If things are bad down there, then folks will be desperate to get off-planet. And desperate folks tend to get downright generous with their affections.”

Jack scowled. “Let’s talk about your itch needing scratched later and focus instead on Pallas Six. We should be getting within visual range of the landing dock any time now.”

Pallas was one of the largest asteroids in the belt. It had no atmosphere, which meant that its surface could be clearly seen from above. Aside from the colony below Pallas Station, every other piece of infrastructure was owned by the mining corporations, and their mining camps were in underground tunnels. The only outward sign of a mining camp was its landing dock, so well-lit it was visible from a thousand kilometers away. Jack could see the other landing docks dotting Pallas’ surface—all docks except Pallas Six, which was a dark hole in the surface that, in its current power-off condition, resembled a cave more than a manmade structure.

Pallas had very low gravity, so the shuttle settled gently into the maw. Jack barely had to manage the controls. But as the shuttle descended, blackness surrounded them.

“This doesn’t look good,” Jack said.

“Place looks like a ghost town. Well, that blows my plans for the day,” Burn said.

Space is dark, but not nearly as dark as you’d think because sunlight reflecting off planets, moons, asteroids, space stations, and whatnot tends to brighten the sky. But Pallas Six’s landing dock was so dark Jack had to turn the shuttle’s landing lights on so he could see the dock. Luckily, the camp’s single docking bay wasn’t occupied. If a ship had been still parked in that bay, landing would’ve been far more challenging. As things stood, this wasn’t Jack’s best landing. The lack of lighting caused him to overcorrect slightly, and the shuttle landed on the back gear first, causing the front to bounce.

“Ow. I’m going to demand work comp for that one,” Burn said.

“Ha ha.” Jack taxied to a launch pad. Like nearly all landing docks, Pallas Six utilized a catapult-style launch pad to assist ship departures. Cabrón’s shuttle didn’t need assistance with the gravity barely registering here, especially since the launch systems were likely as dead as the rest of the landing dock.

Jack searched the dock walls for windows into the camp, but couldn’t make out any. The pair unbuckled their seatbelts.

“I think I’m glad I brought a rifle,” Burn said.

“You brought a rifle?”

“Of course. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m a better shot with a pistol than you are with a rifle. You probably would’ve been better off to just bring flash bangs,” Jack said.

Burn patted a pocket on his leg. “Don’t worry. I brought those, too.”

Jack put the shuttle in standby mode and turned off all lighting to not make the shuttle more attractive to anyone looking to steal a ship. As soon as he’d done so, the interior went pitch black and he scolded himself as he turned a few lights on while the men donned their helmets and Jack grabbed the first aid pack.

“Ready?” Jack asked.

“Ready.”

Jack turned on his helmet lights before turning off the shuttle’s lights. The pair emerged from the shuttle and walked slowly across the dock, both continually scanning for trouble. Without dock lighting, they had to follow painted lines on the walkways toward two airlock doors leading to the camp. They chose the smaller of the doors, sized for people to come and go rather than pallets of food and supplies.

Jack tapped the screen on the wall, but nothing happened. He grumbled under his breath. “We’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

Jack grabbed the wheel under the panel and began cranking it counterclockwise. The airlock door opened slowly, creaking as he turned the wheel. He stopped as soon as the door was open enough for the men to squeeze through. Burn walked through first and grabbed the wheel on the back side of the wall from where the other wheel was and began turning it, closing the outer airlock door behind them.

“If the power’s still completely down in the camp, closing this airlock’s not going to do much good.”

“No, but it’ll cut down the amount of atmosphere lost from the colony,” Jack said.

“Aren’t you an optimist.” Burn grunted. “Someone really slacked off on their job to keep the manual overrides greased.”

Jack stood at the panel next to the inner airlock and began spinning the wheel once Burn had the door closed behind them. With no pressurization in the airlock, as soon as the door began opening, atmosphere whistled through the slim opening and into the chamber. Jack frowned as he continued to crank. “That’s not much pressure.”

When the door was open enough for them to step through, they did and both stood. It was exactly as Domino described and what Jack had hoped he wouldn’t find. The mining camp was as dark as the landing dock. His hab-suit’s sensors read the temperature at negative eighty degrees Celsius and still falling. Pressure and oxygen levels were little better. Jack frowned. “Veda was right about this place not being insulated. Pallas stone must have really low density.”

“Safe to say no one’s left alive here, which means our job is done. I say we check the corporate office for goodies and then head back to Cabrón.” Burn handed the tablet to Jack.

“Not yet. I promised Domino we’d find her friend.” He looked at the red dot on the map. “So we find her friend.”

CHAPTER 4

The tunnels in Pallas Six were empty save for a few frozen corpses, stray members of the camp’s occupants who’d spent their final moments huddled next to air vents rather than in their housing cubes.

“At least they didn’t suffer long. Based on my sensor readings, I figure everyone died within a few hours of losing power,” Jack said.

“With how they look, hypothermia got them rather than hypoxia. Of the two, at least they went the slightly easier way—fading away rather than fighting for breath,” Burn said.

They walked by a pair embracing each other. If it wasn’t for the frost covering them, they looked like they could wake up at any time.

Jack gritted his teeth. “Fucking Sol Corps.”

“Sometimes I wish we blew up the SC3 and everyone in it back before they turned a good system to shit,” Burn said.

“I do too. But that’s ancient history now.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still wish it.”

Jack had to admit he often thought of how different the system would be now if they’d destroyed the SC3 while Sol Corps was still in its early decades. The crew had debated it long and hard, but they knew it would’ve been a suicide mission. While the SC3 was Sol Corps’ headquarters, Sol Corps had plenty of ships, not to mention Waymaker support, in their arsenal. Cabrón’s crew would’ve been hunted relentlessly. At that point of their lives, they’d still felt youthful, as though they could still see the universe. Decades—and centuries—had aged them, at least their perspectives.

Jack had long since given up on wanting vengeance for the death of Aria’s crew. Now, he only felt disappointment when he saw the needless loss of life. He noticed a couple sitting on a bench, embracing each other in death. The mining camp—from its rickety piecemeal building units to regular reminders of death—reminded him of what the system was like before Sol Corps. Jack had been six years old when the Waymakers had arrived. Being a Martian, his earliest jumbled memories were of attacks and counterattacks on his terraforming colony.

Colony attacks had become less bloody, but no less brutal.

“Whoa!”

Jack spun to find Burn tumbling over a mineshaft that wasn’t completely covered. If not for the ultra-low gravity, Burn would’ve fallen in. He grabbed his friend and yanked him away. “Keep an eye on where you’re walking.”

“I was. It just sort of popped up in front of me.”

They continued forward this time, Jack watching out for Burn as much for himself. They traveled slowly, watching for danger, even though they practically could’ve flown through the camp. They passed through the main camp and followed the geolocator tag into an older tunnel. Even though they came across no more bodies, there was still an ominous, haunted feel to the camp. He shivered, even though his hab-suit kept him warm. “I get a bad feeling from this place.”

“Of course you do. You’re superstitious. I get a bad feeling because someone killed everyone here for a reason, and I don’t want to get grouped in with these poor pitters.”

Jack shook his head. “You won’t. Domino said this camp was protesting. I don’t think junkers would get lumped in with pitters striking for better pay.”

“Quit being optimistic. I like you better when you’re snarly and always looking over your shoulder.”

“Why would you like me better like that?”

“Easy. ‘Cause then I know you’ve got our backs covered and I can slack off,” Burn said.

“You’re slacking off already.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why’d you almost fall down a mineshaft ten minutes ago?” Jack asked.

“Like I said, it just kinda popped up.” Burn paused. “You know, because this place is haunted.”

Jack clenched his jaw. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s getting your superstitious side all riled up, isn’t it?” Burn said. “Makes you snarlier.”

“I’m not snarly,” Jack grumbled.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“This way.” Jack stopped abruptly and pointed to a narrow passageway to their left. He took the lead down the hallway, which ended with a thick steel door. Two men, still wearing mining coveralls, lay frozen next to the door.

“Either of these Willie?” Burn asked.

“No.” Both had hair, and neither looked to be close to six feet tall. Their fingertips were bloody and their fingernails were broken. He found one fingernail, along with streaks of blood, in the chain links that weaved through the door wheel to keep the door from being opened. The chain that went through the wheel was padlocked to rebar in the wall.

“Looks like someone didn’t want whoever’s inside to get out.”

Jack eyed the bodies. “Or anyone from outside getting in.”

“If that was the case then this Willie is a really important fellow, because someone locked this door from the outside, which would’ve been a death sentence for that poor schmuck.”

Jack knocked and waited. There was no response. He knocked again. Still no answer.

“If Willie’s inside, I think he’s taking a dirt nap,” Burn said.

Jack tucked the tablet into a pocket, pulled out a gun, and took a step back. He aimed carefully at the chain link, because it looked like it’d give easier than the padlock, and fired. It took four shots to burn through the chain. He tugged the chain free and started to crank the wheel. This door was different from the airlocks. Rather than opening the door, after a half-turn the wheel stopped and there was a click.

He eyed Burn. “Cover me.”

Burn nodded and raised his rifle.

Jack gripped the wheel and pushed inward. Air pushed against him. That there was atmosphere inside the shelter was a good sign. As soon as he could peer inside, he found a pile of blankets in the center of the floor near an oxygenator. A dim lamp gave off only a faint glow.

Jack quickly scanned the shelter for danger before striding to the pile of blankets. He tugged back several layers to reveal a child—a girl from the look of it. He pulled out the tablet, switched the map to a first aid scan, and held the computer over her face. It reported a heart rate of twenty-seven beats per minute. She was already in a hypothermic coma.

“She’s still alive. Close the door,” Jack ordered as he hurried with the first aid bag, pulling out items, letting the objects flit to the ground like feathers. He first grabbed a pacemaker/defibrillator patch and then opened up her shirt enough to place the patch over her heart. She was skinny, like most colonists, and the patch covered over half of her chest. That she showed no reaction to being jostled meant she was critical.

“The room lost a good twenty degrees or more when the door was open,” Jack said while he pulled out a bagged blanket and tossed it to Burn.

“One-Hand Willie’s a smaller fellow than I expected,” Burn said as he tore the wrapper, took out the metallic blanket, and began shaking it out to activate the heating elements.

“Not to mention she has two hands,” Jack said.

“Think she’s his daughter?”

“Don’t know.” Jack then placed a sensor patch on her neck to feed her vitals to the tablet. “His bio said he had a son who died a while back.”

“Not the first time a bio’s been wrong. On Europa, there were more children not listed on bios than were listed. And she meant a lot to someone to stuff her in here.” Burn knelt and held out the blanket.

The pair gingerly removed the girl from her blankets and swaddled her in the heated emergency blanket. While Jack held her, Burn wrapped a couple of the used blankets around her for more insulation. Then he cracked a light stick and dropped it on the floor, shedding a cool light throughout the shelter.

“Why didn’t Willie stay with her?” Burn asked.

Jack stared at the girl’s too-pale face. “She can tell us once she wakes. We need to get her to Cabrón fast. She needs a lot more medical attention than we can provide down here.”

Burn pushed to his feet and headed for the door. “I’ll grab a hab-suit from the shuttle.”

“Hurry.” Just before Burn pulled open the door, Jack added. “And Burn?”

Burn turned.

“Try not to fall into any mineshafts.”

Burn muttered, “A guy almost falls into one mineshaft, and he gets heckled for it.”

He opened the door, stepped out, and pulled the door closed behind him in a single fast movement.

Jack was careful to not jostle the girl as he checked her vitals. Her heart rate had increased a single beat per minute. Not much, but any increase was positive. There was nothing else he could do for her here—she needed advanced medical care. He pulled up the map on the tablet as he waited, and it showed that he was right on top of Willie. If the geolocator was an implant, it was clearly a mistag. He rummaged through the blankets until his fingers brushed against something hard, and he pulled out a small tablet, no bigger than his hand. He flipped it over to see a logo he recognized. The Chinese symbol for strength—which resembled the Greek letter for pi—was the logo used by the resistance. That explained why the geolocator wasn’t tagged on any Sol Corps network.

He frowned as he pocketed the tablet. He and Domino needed to have a little chat. He’d made it clear on more than one occasion that he and his crew wanted nothing to do with her little rebellion. It was ideologically doomed from the onset—factions from each colony would never be able to stand against Sol Corps and their Waymaker shadows. The rebellion would only doom more camps and colonies rather than see any real change made to how Sol Corps ran things. Cabrón’s crew knew this better than anybody. After all, they’d once worked for Sol Corps and knew how the government thought about its people.

His comm beeped through his helmet speakers, followed by Kana’s voice. “Guys, we have a problem.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“A news report aired a couple of hours ago. I just saw it in my feed. It’s an announcement that Pallas Six suffered a catastrophic system failure. You better move fast. First responders and news drones are on their way.”

Burn’s response was a curse.

“How much time do we have?” Jack asked.

“There are four different blips showing on my scans already. You have maybe twenty minutes before the first one arrives.”

Jack gritted his teeth. “All right. Have the ship ready to cut and run. And tell Veda to prep the pod for hypothermic repair. We’re bringing a guest onboard.”

“Will do. Hurry back.”

“Jack, I’m nearly to you. I’ll be there in two blinks,” Burn replied.

“Watch for mineshafts,” Jack cautioned.

“Blah, blah, blah.”

Jack checked the girl’s vitals again. No improvement.

Burn shoved open the door and stepped inside.

“You made good time.” Jack stuffed the tablet and reached out for the extra hab-suit.

“I did Superman leaps. Low-gravity games, you know.” He nodded to the girl. “Has the kid kicked the bucket?”

“Not yet.”

Jack could’ve been gentler, but he was in a hurry to get the girl into a hab-suit with full environmental protections. The girl was too small for the hab-suit. If she were conscious, she’d have a hell of a time walking in it. Her hands didn’t even reach the gloves, and he didn’t bother trying to line up her fingers. He clicked the helmet into place and lifted the girl in his arms. With Pallas’ low gravity, she was lighter than a wrench.

Burn opened the door, and they rushed out. A person couldn’t run in low-gravity. Instead, they used the thrusters on their suits to fly through the tunnels, tapping off the ground as needed. They no longer worried about danger coming from within the tunnels, now that they knew the real trouble would come from above.

First responders would no doubt see Cabrón as a pirate ship raiding the dead and report them to Sol Corps. News drones would guarantee images to help. And while Jack could come up with an alibi—he had plenty of experience doing so—it would be difficult to explain how they’d found a girl in a shelter over a kilometer away from the main camp.

“This sucks that we can’t do any picking,” Burn said as they sped through the main camp. “All the good stuff will be looted within the week by the so-called first responders.”

“There’ll be another time,” Jack said without hesitation. Catastrophic failures on ships and in mining camps were all too frequent, from collisions to explosions to a thousand other things that could go wrong where humans lived in environments not fit for any sort of biological life. Living in space was hard. It didn’t need Sol Corps’ oversight and shadows to make it harder.

When they reached the airlock, Burn said, “Yeah, I know, I was just being lazy, but that fucker was hard enough to open, so I just left it open.”

“I’m glad you did,” Jack said. “You saved us time.” There was no one still alive, not unless they were in a shelter like this girl, which meant they weren’t relying on atmosphere from the camp anyway. He hoped others were still alive—survivors who could tell the story of what happened here. But if any still lived, the first responders would debrief them in a way that they’d never speak of the truth. That was the Sol Corps way.

The pair headed to the shuttle. Burn unlocked and opened the door. Jack handed the girl to his crew member and rushed to the pilot’s seat. Burn took his seat, holding the girl in his arms.

Jack tapped the intercom, which was a direct line to the bridge, regardless of the shuttle’s location. “Kana, how’s things looking up there?”

“Not good. There’s a news drone entering the landing dock now. Watch out.”

He looked up and saw blinking navigational lights descending. He powered up the shuttle but kept all lights off. If they were lucky, the drone wouldn’t notice, since its objective would be to enter the mining camp and gather video footage.

The shuttle lifted from the pad. As soon as it did, lights flashed onto the ship from above. They’d been spotted.

CHAPTER 5

Jack turned on the shuttle’s exterior lights—every damn one of them—and twisted the flight controls, corkscrewing the craft upward toward the drone. At minimum, the lights would distort the video feed, but he hoped the lights would completely blind the feed. He jacked up the power to near-max and barreled toward the drone. Its automated evasion protocols caused it to jackknife away, and it bounced off the docking station’s far stone wall.

“I think you might’ve given that drone a headache,” Burn said.

“Just letting it know that I’m camera shy. I can’t help that it overreacted,” Jack said.

The shuttle shot out from the docking station. He didn’t slow down in case the drone’s operator decided the shuttle provided a more interesting story than the mining camp. As he reached orbit, he frowned, craning his neck as he scanned the black space before them. “You see the ship?”

Burn scoured outside and then jostled the unconscious girl in his arms to free a hand to pull up a grid on the screen before him. “No, I do not. Think a drone got the hots for her?”

“If it did, I hope Kana gave it the cold shoulder.” Jack glanced at the girl. “How’s she doing?”

“No change. Still just a raggedy doll.”

A blip blinked onto the grid’s edge and was on an intercept heading. Jack’s heart rate climbed during the brief second before Kana’s voice came through his headset. “On my way to your location. Get ready to attach.”

“Ready,” Jack replied while his fingers flew across the panel, activating the shuttle’s docking controls. A button with the text, Engage Automatic Control, displayed in the center of the screen. Jack pressed it and then removed his helmet.

“Lend me a hand?” Burn asked.

Jack set his helmet on the floor and then assisted Burn.

“Thanks,” Burn said as Jack removed his friend’s helmet and set it on the floor next to the other one.

Jack considered removing the girl’s helmet and then decided to leave it. She’d be getting a better ratio of oxygen in the suit than she would in the shuttle. He leaned back in his seat as he watched Cabrón and the shuttle come together. He performed manual docking whenever possible, but automated docking was faster, which was far more important right now than keeping his skills current.

Once the shuttle clamped into place and the panel blinked green, Jack grabbed the two helmets and jumped to his feet. He hustled ahead of Burn to the airlock, only to have the inner door open before he reached it.

Veda stepped inside. “I’ve got the pod ready.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think this little one can hold out much longer,” Burn said.

Veda cocked his head. “I expected Willie to be bigger.”

“We couldn’t find Willie,” Jack said.

Veda frowned and led the others, with Burn carrying the camp’s survivor, to the medical room which, fortunately, was the room nearest shuttle one.

As soon as they reached the medical room, Veda opened the pod’s cover and motioned for the girl. Burn placed her on the white padding, and the pair went about removing her hab-suit. When Veda pulled off her helmet, he whistled. “Sure as shit, this is the youngest person to ever be put in this pod. Hopefully it can calibrate the meds right for her size. Scrawny little runt.” He then sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “Hot damn. Why is it pitters always stink so bad?”

“No worse than you after one of your high-temp workouts,” Burn replied, then shook his head as he held up her hand. All her fingertips had turned black. “I have to give her credit. This little one’s wiry for how long she survived in the cold down there.”

“The pod’ll get her healed up, assuming she’s not too far gone,” Jack said. “I need to get to the bridge. You two got her from here?”

“Sure thing, Jack,” Burn said.

Jack gave each of them a quick nod before rushing from the room. He hoped the girl survived, but in better lighting, he could see how rough of shape she was in. Even her nose looked to be badly frozen. Assuming her physical injuries could be healed, he wondered how damaged her psyche would be after being alone in that shelter, freezing to death for at least a couple of days. Some folks never returned from that kind of trauma. Caber was a good example of that.

“Jack.” Kana spun in her seat as soon as he stepped onto the bridge. “I changed position when I saw the incoming traffic. I put the ship over Pallas Two so they couldn’t put us with Pallas Six.”

“Smart thinking,” Jack said as he took his seat. “I have control of the ship.”

“It’s yours,” she said, then added, “it looks like most ships are landing at Pallas Station and taking ground units to the camp. I’m guessing they’re hopeful at finding survivors.”

“I doubt they’ll find many. We found this one only because of Willie’s geolocator. Unless the pitters got to a shelter in time, they weren’t going to make it,” he said as he launched Cabrón on a new heading away from Pallas.

“That bad?” she asked.

“That bad.”

“How is the survivor you brought onboard? Is he going to make it?”

“She, and maybe. Her oxygen levels were still good, but it was awfully cold in there. Most 1.0s would never have survived that long. Her being a child should help.”

“She’s just a kid?” Kana winced. “Oh, the poor thing. And her family?”

Jack shook his head.

“She’s a stray, like us,” Kana said softly.

Jack held up a hand. “Don’t even think about adopting her. A ship’s no place for a kid.” He tapped his comms panel and placed a call.

Domino answered within a few seconds. “Hello, Jack. Tell me you have good news.” She sobered as she read his face. “I take it you don’t have good news.”

“It was what you said. The power was down. We tracked down Willie’s locator, but he wasn’t there.”

She frowned.

“There was a girl with his tablet. Does he have a daughter who’s maybe nine or ten?”

Domino shook her head. “No. He only had a son, but he died some time ago. Whoever the girl was, she’s not his.”

“She’s still alive. She’s the only survivor we found. We would’ve gone back to look for more, but Sol Corps was getting the party started.”

Domino scowled, cussed, and then exhaled. “Bring her here. She might know what happened to Willie.”

“That’s my plan, but I have to stop off at Jaeden’s first. I’ve got a nearly full haul in the back I still need to drop off.”

She nodded tightly. “Be careful. If Sol Corps shut down that camp, they don’t want any survivors out there telling others what happened.”

“I always am.”

CHAPTER 6

“She’s awake.”

Jack rubbed his eyes before squinting at Burn. “What time is it?”

“0400. Time for you to rise and shine and meet our little patient.” Burn turned from where he’d been standing in the doorway to Jack’s quarters and left.

Jack sat up, cracked his neck, stood, and dressed. By the time he reached the medical room, all three crew members were standing around the open pod. Burn made room for Jack when he entered.

Jack looked at the girl. She peered back. She seemed wary—maybe she was just groggy—but she didn’t seem afraid.

“Her name’s Heddi,” Burn said. “That’s all we’ve gotten out of her so far.”

“Pops here?” she asked weakly.

Jack’s brow rose. “Is Willie your father?”

She shook her head and winced. “Ow.” She rubbed her temples before turning back to Jack. “Willie’s here? He okay?”

“He’s not here. We thought we’d find him with you. Do you know where he went?” Jack asked.

Her chin wrinkled like she was about to cry. “Went to try and get the generators up and running and then was gonna come back. But never came back.” She sniffled. “Figured Pops was dead. Hoping Willie…” She pressed her lips together, fighting tears. After a moment, she continued. “Willie didn’t make it either?”

Everyone turned to Jack, and he decided truth was the best course of action. “We picked you up three days ago, and there’s been no report of any survivors yet.”

Heddi’s eyes welled with tears, and Kana rubbed the girl’s arm. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re not alone. You’ve got us.”

Veda focused on his wife while she was focused on the girl.

“A lot happened to you, but you’re safe now,” Kana continued.

Heddi sniffled, which caused her to cough. When she lifted her hand, she noticed her fingers and her eyes widened.

Kana gently tugged Heddi’s frostbitten hand away, covering the still-dark fingertips. “You suffered from hypothermia. Do you know what that is?”

Heddi gave a small nod. “Fingers are gonna fall off, ain’t they?”

“No. They’re not going to fall off. They’ll just take some time to heal,” Kana said.

“Toes the color of soot, soon lose the foot,” Heddi said an old phrase that Jack had heard plenty in the belt. And it was true, especially for those in the mining camps. If a person suffered too bad a case of frostbite, without the right medical care, they’d lose the digits. Fortunately, Cabrón had healing pods. They were antiques by current standards, but technology in the solar system had seemed to go back rather than forward over the past two centuries.

Heddi stared ahead, her eyes unfocused, so Jack spoke. “Heddi, can you tell us what happened at the camp?”

Her vision came into focus on him, but she didn’t answer.

“Tell us what happened when the power went out. Were you with Willie?” Jack asked.

She seemed to be reliving the events in her gaze.

“Can you tell us what you were doing when the power went out?” Kana asked softly.

Heddi turned to her. After a few seconds, she spoke. “Sent to pick up Pops’ kit from the pit. But Willie was talkin’ to folks in the square, so stopped for a listen. Folks were gettin’ upset at Arclight for dockin’ payouts again. Quit talkin’ when coppers showed. Willie was gonna take me to supper.” She gave a sheepish look. “Pops gets migraines an’ can’t always work. Sometimes, things get pretty tight. Willie helps out. Willie’s really nice, just looks big an’ scary.”

“Willie took you out to eat?” Jack asked, trying to nudge her along.

“Yeah, was hungry an’ was gonna eat but then Arclight shut it all down.”

“Willie told you that Arclight shut down the camp?” Jack asked.

She frowned. “No. Arclight said so. Big announcement said was gonna shut the camp down for missing quotas. Everyone told to evac, but power went out right away. Got scared an’ Willie helped me.” She broke eye contact. “Shoulda gone and got Pops, but was too scared.”

“Willie saved your life,” Jack said. “I doubt you had the time to get your father and get to a shelter, not with how leaky Pallas is. I’m guessing Willie knew that too.”

She sniffled and gave a small nod. “But Willie gonna come back and he didn’t. Why didn’t he?”

Kana squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “I’m sure he tried his hardest to get back to you.”

“Willie ain’t suppose ta die. Too tough. Not like Pops.” Heddi’s voice cracked, then she shook her hands and started to wriggle. “Fingers and toes tingle an’ itch. Suppose to do that?”

“They tingle because they’re healing,” Kana said.

Jack made eye contact with Burn, who nodded.

“Hey Heddi, you need sleep so your fingers and toes can get better. Okay?”

“Don’t think can sleep right now,” she said.

“That’s where this thing helps.” Burn tapped the pod cover. “When I close the cover, it’ll pipe in some stuff that’ll help you sleep. How about I close this cover and—”

“No!” Heddi tried to sit up. “Don’t wanna be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Burn said. “One of us will be right here with you the whole time. You won’t ever be alone. I promise.”

She didn’t give him the most trusting expression, but she relented after a moment and settled into the pod, never taking her eyes off him.

Burn gave her a smile. “That’s my girl.” He shut the cover slowly and gently. As soon as it clicked into place, he tapped through its control screens. Heddi’s wide eyes fluttered, then closed.

“I’m giving her a sedative that ought to keep her out for at least a day. I say we wake her once a day to get her moving and then pop her back in for deep healing,” Burn said.

“Sounds good,” Jack said.

“We’re not keeping her, are we?” Veda asked.

Kana shot him a scowl.

“What? She’s a kid, not a puppy. She doesn’t belong here,” Veda said.

“We’re not keeping her,” Jack answered. “I’m taking her to Domino, who’ll find a decent home for her. This ship is no place for a kid, and this crew definitely doesn’t need a rug rat messing with wires and breaking things. Besides, she should be with her own kind.”

“Do you think what Heddi said about Arclight was true? Do you think the corporation is what powered down the camp?” Kana asked, and Jack didn’t fail to notice the abrupt change in subject.

Burn shrugged. “Corporations are just Sol Corps pawns. It’s not a stretch.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “We’ll ask her more when she’s awake again. Corporations shut down camps all the time, but it’s standard for them to give at least thirty days for wrap-up and evacuation. This sounded like they shut down the camp right after they made the announcement. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe someone fat-fingered the shut-down date wrong. Unlikely but possible,” Kana said. Her armlet chimed, and she gave a start.

“I don’t know how you can wear one of those when you know all the shadows out there,” Burn said.

“Because this armlet is only on Cabrón’s network, which means the shadows can’t track me through this.” She held it up.

Burn shrugged. “Whatever cooks your pod. All right, I’ll take first watch with Heddi here. The rest of you can go back to bed.”

“Nope,” Kana said. “That alarm was letting me know that we’re entering Jaeden’s quadrant. We’ll be at Woven City in thirty hours. I have to get in some game time before then.”

CHAPTER 7

Jack slowed Cabrón as they approached Woven City’s unloading docks. The orbital station was officially known as space center M1D and was the largest station between the belt and Mars. Like every space center, Woven City was a sprawling network of tubes, docks, and arrays that had been added onto old units throughout the years. It resembled a spider web, if that spider had no talent for uniformity.

His panel chimed as they crossed into the city’s airspace. He activated his comm. “Woven City dock control, this is Cabrón, Starwing class, Mars-Four-One-One-Juliet-One. We have a load delivery for GalacTek. I’ve sent our credentials through. Ready for docking.”

“Cabrón, this is Woven City dock control. You’re cleared to attach to dock fourteen. By the way, do you realize that ‘cabrón’ means ‘bastard’ in Spanish?” a male voice replied.

Jack sighed as he entered the dock number into the ship’s navigation system and transferred control to Cabrón. “As a matter of fact, I do. Back when I first acquired it, it earned its name. You wouldn’t believe how much it acted up. It was a real pain in my ass.”

The dock control worker laughed. “I get it. You ought to see some of the ships that pass through here. I’m amazed some even have their environmentals still working. By the way, that’s the strangest Starwing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never seen arms on the bow of a ship before. Usually they’re on the stern, by the cargo hold. Having them up front like that makes them look like your ship’s got horns.”

“Having the arms where I can see them makes it easier at grabbing collectors. As you know, doesn’t matter what ship class it is, a ship needs some custom work to make it a decent hauler.”

“Well, that dark plating definitely gives it an interesting look. I wouldn’t want to mess with it.”

“There’s a lot of garbage out there. We’d prefer not to have any of it smash through our hull. Now, we’re lining up with dock fourteen, so if you’d like to continue this conversation, at least buy me a drink first.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Have a good day, Cabrón.”

Jack hated having to deal with new guys. All haulers were customized, but they were rarely a full-out custom like Cabrón. Of course, most crews didn’t have the length of time to spend on customizing their ships like Cabrón’s crew had. No matter the amount of custom work, a ship’s bones would remain the same. You couldn’t change those without having to rework the entire infrastructure, including the reactor. So Cabrón had a new skin, a remodeled interior, and a few added bells and whistles, but it was still the ship Jack had stepped foot on for the first time many years ago. And no matter how much it changed—even though its bullish personality had softened—he still could see the original in every rivet.

When Cabrón was two hundred meters out from the dock, it spun around so that the stern was nearest the dock and began to back up to the dock, using the wide array of external sensors to line up. The ship bumped against docking arms that immediately locked around the ship’s bumper bars. Movement halted abruptly.

Jack received a dock request to open the cargo doors, and he complied. In one window, he watched as automated drones tugged out the collector trays. In another window, he ran several scans and prepped the systems for lockdown. It took the dock drones eight and a half minutes to clear the garbage, faster than usual because the load was lighter than usual. As soon as he received the all-clear message from the dock, he closed the cargo doors and set Cabrón into lockdown mode and transferred comms to his tablet.

In lockdown mode, no outside systems could communicate directly with Cabrón, and nobody could enter the ship without the right credentials, which meant no one but the crew could enter and exit.

He headed from the bridge and knocked on Kana and Veda’s door, which was across the hallway from Burn’s. The door opened a second later, and Veda stepped out, wearing baggy, stained, blue coveralls that were typical of a lot of salvagers and a backpack. “I’m ready.”

Jack gave him a nod, and the pair continued past a door to the med room, where Kana was tapping busily on a tablet next to the closed healing pod where Heddi was sleeping.

“We’re heading out,” Jack said.

Kana looked up, surprised, then popped to her feet. “You both have your tablets, right?”

“I do,” Jack said.

“Of course,” Veda said.

“Good. Tally’s Sol Corps locator is showing him docking about an hour before us. Call me if anything goes sideways.” She approached Veda, smiled, tugged him to her, and kissed him. “Have fun, tiger.”

Veda grinned. “I will, brown eyes. See you on Mars.”

Jack glanced at the healing pod. The girl’s fingertips were only a dirty gray now. She was recovering quickly, but slowly compared to what Jack was used to. “I’ll be back in three hours. Let me know if anything changes with her.”

“I will, and I’ll let Burn know. He’ll be awake by then,” Kana said. “Oh, and pick up some candy.”

“Candy? Like what kind of candy?” Jack asked.

Kana shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know that kids like candy.”

“I’ll see what I can find.”

Jack and Veda headed down the hallway and all the way through the ship to the cargo hold. At the end, next to the large cargo door, was a much smaller door. Jack entered his code. It clicked and then opened. The pair stepped through the doorway and onto Woven City’s ramp. The air was thinner and the gravity lighter, though it always was. The city’s gravity came from centrifugal force, whereas Cabrón’s gravity came from its antihydrogen gravitational conductor—like most Corps ships and other high-end craft—which provided a more stable platform.

Veda closed and locked the door behind them before turning back to Jack. “I’ll catch a ride to Mars.”

“Keep an eye out for shadows,” Jack said.

Veda nodded and then headed toward the main walkway. Jack turned right, down a smaller walkway, to a counter with a single computer terminal and a sign that read, Woven City Transport Kiosk Three.

Jack walked up to the counter, standing behind a person who was finishing her business, grumbling as she did so.

When she turned around, Jack smiled. “Didn’t realize it was you, A.J.”

Her frown faded. “Good seeing you, Jack. Not so good doing business with GalacTek. They cut our rates again.”

Jack grimaced. “Again? But they just cut them less than a year ago.”

“You’re telling me. Spacecology offered me a sign-up bonus. Those guys are pricks, but the bills gotta be paid, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She threw one final glance at the kiosk, then shook her head. “Take care of yourself, Jack. Oh, and tell Burn I ain’t happy with the way he up and left last time.” She took several steps, then looked over her shoulder and winked. “But go ahead and tell him to call me, if you would.”

“I will.”

She left, and he entered his account number into the terminal. Weight and composition of his last garbage load populated along with a break-down of credits assigned to each type of metal and recyclable material. Under the net total read a penalty charge for bringing in only a half-load.

Jack held out his hands. “Bullshit. It was a three-quarter load at least.”

The problem with kiosks was that they wouldn’t debate or negotiate, which meant that Jack would have to take his problem to Jaeden. He exited the screen, blew out a breath, and headed to the nearest elevator.

He took the elevator across an arc where he had to switch to get on an elevator that’d take him to the city’s business sector. He found one with the doors open, and he jumped in, stiffening when he noticed he wasn’t alone.

Of all people…

Jack stood in front of Frank Tally.

“What sector?” Frank asked, seemingly not recognizing Jack.

“Business Twelve,” Jack replied smoothly.

“That’s where I’m headed.”

The door closed, and Frank looked Jack up and down. “Do I know you? It seemed like when you stepped inside, you recognized me.”

“At first glance, I thought you were someone else. An old buddy from Mars,” Jack replied.

“Well, you know what they say… every one of us has a lookalike out there somewhere.”

“That’s what they say,” Jack said.

Silence filled the elevator as it moved up, then over, climbing in a stair-step manner through another arc. Jack breathed through his mouth—the junker smelled as bad as he looked.

“What business brings you to Woven City?” Frank asked.

“I’m a junker. I cover mostly the belt. You?” Jack asked.

Frank grinned. “Well, I’ll be. I’m a junker too. I cover Mars’ moons mostly, but sometimes grab some bonus contracts. You with Spacecology?”

Jack shook his head. “GalacTek.”

Frank tsked. “GalacTek’s stocks are falling. They’re a leaky ship. You should think about switching to Spacecology. I just so happen to be the number one carrier between Mars and Jupiter.”

Likely because he stole from all the hard-working junkers. “Impressive. I bet you make some great bonuses. As for me, I do all right, but there’re some real losers out there. One particularly foul lowlife busted up one of my collector drones and stole the tray. I was hit with a hefty penalty for that.”

“Life’s not fair, kiddo. The sooner you realize that the better you’ll do in this system.”

Jack tried not to chuckle at Frank calling him the kiddo. Jack knew far more about life being unfair than the man who looked thirty years older. “It’s not about fair. It’s about integrity. Someone stole from me once. They won’t get the chance to do it again. I can promise that.”

Frank’s brows rose slightly, then he smirked. It was in that glimpse of an expression that Jack knew without any doubt that Frank had been the one to rob him.

The door opened. Frank chuckled and stepped onto the walkway. Jack walked alongside him, since all the space waste management companies were located along the same hallway.

The Spacecology office was nearest the elevator, and Frank turned to face Jack before he went inside. “You have balls, I give you that, kiddo. But take my advice. Cut your losses and move on. What happens out there in the black ain’t personal, it’s business. And there ain’t nothing you can do to fix the way things are.”

Jack said nothing, but he didn’t break eye contact until Frank turned and entered the Spacecology office. Then, a slow smile tugged at his lips. Frank was wrong on both accounts. What happened out there in the black was personal, and there was plenty that could be done. Frank Tally would learn that very soon.

He continued several doors down, stopping at the one with a sign that displayed GalacTek Waste Systems, Inc. On the wall next to the door was a panel listing four options: Employee, Contractor, Applicant, Other. Jack pressed contractor and the following screen requested his contractor number, which he entered. The door opened, and he stepped inside.

He groaned. Where an assistant used to sit was now a computer screen. He trudged to the screen where a question was displayed: What support would you like today? He chuckled at the first option as he pressed it—Meet with a GalacTek representative—since Jaeden was the only GalacTek employee at Woven City.

The screen displayed, Jaeden Crete, Vice President, GalacTek Waste Systems, Inc., is currently busy. Estimated wait time is four hours and twenty-two minutes. Would you like your name added to the queue?

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jack entered his name and stepped away. He looked around the room for cameras and found one in the ceiling at a corner. He turned away, pulled out his tablet, and sent a quick message to Veda.

Bumped into a fellow who works for Spacecology. Gave a nice recruitment speech, sounds like they’re really pulling in the hauls. Might be a ripe offer worth considering.

The message didn’t reference Frank Tally by name. It didn’t need to. Jack and Veda had worked together long enough for Veda to understand exactly what Jack was saying.

After he sent the message, he tucked the tablet back into his pocket and checked the time. Plenty of time to grab supplies—and candy—before his time slot with Jaeden. He turned to leave when he heard the door open beyond the terminal. A junker emerged from Jaeden’s office. Jack didn’t recognize the fellow and gave him a simple tuck of his chin as the man left. Instead of following, Jack strode to the office door and rang the doorbell via the small panel on the wall.

The door opened a second later, and Jack entered to find Jaeden sitting behind his desk. A plaque on the front of his desk read Jaeden Crete, Vice President. The title didn’t seem to fit with how young the man was—he couldn’t have been older than twenty-five. But when a person realized Jaeden had the same last name as the owners of the company, the fancy job title made perfect sense. Being the owner’s kid guaranteed him a cushy job; being the owner’s fourth kid meant he wasn’t valuable enough to work at the corporate headquarters on luxurious Luna.

Jaeden gave a toothy smile. “Captain Jack Hale, good to see you. Take a seat.”

“Your new assistant’s a dick. It tried to make me set up an appointment to see you,” Jack said as he sat in a chair across from Jaeden.

“It’s a new system. We’re still getting the bugs worked out. What’s up?”

“I was paid for a half-load when I brought in a nearly full load. I want the penalty removed.”

“It wasn’t quite nearly full. It looks like it was about two-thirds full,” Jaeden corrected. “And even if I wanted to forgive the penalty, I can’t. The new system doesn’t allow adjustments.”

“I can’t believe that. Every system allows for adjustments,” Jack said.

Jaeden shrugged. “It’s a new company policy. Sol Corps is trying to phase out the credit system over the next twenty years. That means we need to start managing costs more carefully.”

Jack grunted. Sol Corps had been talking about that for over a century already. “Then transfer me credits directly from your account and we’ll call it even.”

Jaeden held up a finger. “Let me show you something.” He tapped on the panel built into the surface of his desk. The screen on the wall behind him switched to an image from a newsfeed—a week old from the timestamp. The image displayed a shuttle leaving the Pallas Six docking station in a hurry, and a description at the bottom of the screen read, Pirates raiding mining camp after disaster.

Jack knew that was his shuttle at first glimpse, but there were no identifying numbers or marks on it, which is why it would’ve been mistaken for a pirate’s shuttle. “What’s this?” he asked, giving away nothing.

Jaeden pointed to the image. “That small ship reminds me of one of your shuttles. It’s the same dark gray, and not a lot of ships are that color. Funny coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Maybe a coincidence, but not funny,” Jack said drily. “It’s not mine.”

“Maybe not. And if it is yours, I don’t care what you were doing on Pallas. I don’t even care if you’re a pirate in your off-hours, as long as you bring me in full loads of junk every month.”

“And I always have. I’ve worked for you for ten years and have never brought a short load before. This month was short because someone stole the haul from one of my collector drones. Next month will be a full load again.”

“How do you know that? This month, over half of my contractors brought in reduced loads, all with the same excuse. The challenge is that GalacTek is the first part of an important supply chain. If we don’t collect recyclable material, we can’t sell that material to the manufacturers, who can’t sell it to the colonies who need it to survive and grow.”

“I thought GalacTek’s motto is: Making space a safer place for travel,” Jack said, tongue in cheek.

Jaeden shrugged. “Of course, collecting debris saves lives. Without us, hull breaches would go up ten-fold. But altruism doesn’t pay bills. And neither does short loads. I can’t adjust the number. Times are tough—be thankful you received what you did. Sorry, Jack. That’s just the way things are. Bring me a full load next time.”

Jack glowered and sighed. “Next time, I’ll bring a full load. You have my word.”

Jaeden seemed to relax into his chair. “Good. Would you like some coffee? I’ve got the real stuff, not the instant crap. Arrived just last night.” Jaeden motioned to the door to his right. “It’s in my apartment. I can grab a cup for you if you’d like to try it.”

“Thanks for the offer. I think if I ever tried the real thing, I’d always be disappointed in the stuff I can afford,” Jack said. He thought it was a better response than saying that he’d had real coffee before but lost the taste for it. Something about space screwed with the flavor, and he knew he’d be disappointed with Jaeden’s.

Jack rubbed his hands down his pants and then stood. “Well, I’ll see you next month.” He left Jaeden and the GalacTek office. He didn’t want to have to leave the current gig. He liked working for GalacTek, but Jack and his crew had maybe ten years left with the GalacTek gig before they’d have to move to a different area of the system with new identities. Jack could gray his hair and wear makeup, but after enough time went by, people tended to notice someone who didn’t age. That would draw the wrong kind of attention to Cabrón’s crew.

He took three elevators to Woven City’s retail sector. The doors opened to noise and bustle through the long corridor. Space stations were always narrow—too wide, and artificial gravity didn’t work quite right. An automated walkway went through the center, so people didn’t have to walk the length if they didn’t want to. Jack walked—he enjoyed being able to walk more than sixty-three paces before having to turn around. He went straight for the general market. Pulling out his tablet, he opened the crew’s list. When he entered the market, a clerk handed him a scanner. She smiled. “Welcome to Gastons.”

He gave her a smile and began walking down the narrow S-shaped aisle with images and descriptions of every item they had in stock. He scanned the items he needed. A crate of assorted food pods and snacks, two crates of water, nicotea and jerky for Veda, whiskey for Burn, a game-time stick and sleeping patches for Kana, and tea for himself. He searched for candy but couldn’t find the right section.

“Looks like you’re looking for something. Anything I can help you find?” the clerk said.

“Do you carry candy?”

The clerk smiled as she led him down the aisle. “Of course. We have some up by the counter. We even carry some in the store, because our guests want to enjoy it right away. What kind are you looking for?”

He shrugged. “What do kids like?”

“That’s easy. Starshots. They’ve been going off the shelves faster than we can stock them lately. The wrappers have codes for comics in them, and kids seem to really love them. How many would you like?”

“Three, I guess.”

She handed him two of the cylindrical wrapped candy. He noticed how her fingers lingered on his palm while she gave him a flirty smile. “Your kid has a lucky dad.”

He didn’t correct her.

“Will that be all today?”

He thought for a moment. “Do you have clothes that would fit a kid?”

She nodded. “Of course. We don’t have as big of a selection as San Martinos, but what we have is of the best quality.” She led him back down the aisle to a small section with pictures of various clothing items. “The clothes work for all ages and sizes. You just need to scan the right size, and it’ll be delivered with your other items.”

He winced. “I don’t know her size.”

“That’s okay. How old is she?”

“Nine or so.”

“Is she big or small for her age?”

Jack shrugged.

She grinned. “How tall is she?”

“About this tall.” He held a hand in the air.

“And her body shape?”

“She’s thin.” That one he could easily answer.

The clerk tapped her forefinger to her chin. “Okay, I recommend this jumper. It will have wiggle room in it. Does she need shirts or underwear?”

Jack handed her his scanner. “I’d say order her the full set.”

“I can’t order her shoes without measuring first, unless you know her size or would like to take a guess.”

Jack started to guess a size with his hands and gave up.

“I have an idea. How about a pair of Formaboots? They cost a bit more, but each size of these will fit up to three shoe sizes.”

“Get one of those then.”

Her smile brightened, and he wondered how much commission she was making from him.

“Okay. Anything else? We’re running a special on all blankets right now. Twenty percent off.”

He held up his hand. “That’ll be all.”

She tapped a couple of buttons on the scanner. “That’ll be two hundred and sixteen credits.”

That would take over half of their GalacTek payment. He pulled out his tablet and opened the credit app.

She giggled. “You might be the first person I’ve met who doesn’t wear an armlet. Even homeless wear armlets. You know they’re free, right?”

“I know. I just don’t like them.”

He held out his tablet, and she hastily held the scanner near it. “Okay, payment received. I need the delivery location.”

“Dock fourteen.”

She entered that into the app. “Everything you ordered will be delivered to your ship within ninety minutes. I hope she enjoys the candy.”

Jack exited the store. Rather than turning back for the ship, he strolled through the retail sector. He watched people. Being around them was tiring after being aboard a ship of only four, but it was also good for remembering life. Every year, he found himself more disconnected from people. He looked just like anyone else—well, he was definitely cleaner than some of them—but he knew he was different. Some people would know that, too—like they had an extrasensory perception that Jack wasn’t like them—and kept their distance. He didn’t mind. It was better that way.

He found himself stopping at a wall of six screens, displaying the different major colony networks. The belter network was replaying a newsfeed about the Pallas Six mining camp catastrophe. A drone feed went through several of the same tunnels Jack had taken, showing the still darkness and stopping to zoom in on any frozen bodies it came across. The ribbon at the bottom of the screen read that Pallas Six’s power grid had suffered a tragic catastrophic failure after an explosion in a nearby mine, resulting in the death of all one hundred and seventeen inhabitants.

The news didn’t mention anything about Heddi, but that was no guarantee. Sol Corps could find out if Heddi was still alive if they were diligent enough. Identifying the bodies against the camp’s registry would take care of the majority, but some colonists, children especially, weren’t on the registry, and other colonists were homeless drifters that there was no way to tell if they were on Pallas or not when disaster struck.

Jack had to hope that Heddi was a nobody in the eyes of Sol Corps and would be one of the thousands of “invisible” children spread across the colonies. He turned away from the screens to find a small group of tourists—obvious from the combination of their youth and expensive clothes—watching the Sol Corps announcement screen. All wore frowns.

One of the women in the group groaned. “I knew it. They did it again. Another law restricting travel. There goes our trip to Ganymede. I bought a whole new collection of swimsuits just for that stop.”

“Poor Jessica,” the man next to her crooned.

She pushed him back. “I’m serious. I’m getting tired of this crap. I thought my parents were bad with being overprotective, but Sol Corps is ten times worse. I’m nineteen, and I feel like I still have a nanny. It’s crazy!” Her armlet chimed, and she held it up, gasping. “See what I mean. I’m getting scolded for being too loud.”

Jack sidestepped and put distance between himself and the group as one of her friends began griping too. If they raised their voices much more, they wouldn’t have to worry about their armlets—the city’s security would be paying them a visit.

He took no more detours on his walk back to the ship. He’d had enough of public life for a month. When he reached the dock, he found his purchases stacked in the wagon of a drone parked outside Cabrón’s cargo doors. He also saw the cameras above the dock, covering all the dock’s surface. He entered the ship through the small door and pressed the intercom in the wall next to the door. “Supplies are here.”

“On my way,” Burn’s response came quickly.

Burn arrived by the time Jack opened the cargo door, and the pair carried the supplies onto the ship.

“You’re scowling worse than usual. Anything I should know about?”

“We got a penalty for a short load, like we expected, but inflation’s getting ugly,” Jack replied.

“Good thing we’re not big spenders. Think we have time for me to head into Woven City for an hour?”

“It’s about that itch you were talking about a week back, isn’t it?”

“Yep. I’m getting antsy on the ship, especially when we’re parked in Woven City, which has one of the best brothels in the system.”

Jack waved. “An hour, starting as soon as the cargo door’s closed.”

Burn grinned as he moved faster to grab the last box. “I only need five minutes, well, not counting walking time.”

Jack closed the cargo door, and Burn slapped his shoulder on his way out the side door. “See you in an hour.”

Jack waited for the side door to lock before he returned to the ship. He wasn’t a strict captain. The crew set all the rules onboard the ship, and one of those rules was to never have fewer than two crew members onboard at any time to guard the ship. Kana preferred to stay onboard—she hadn’t left the ship in years, which left her plus another crew member. Jack had to conduct all business, which left Burn—the most social of the crew—generally accompanying Jack. Letting Burn off the ship for even an hour helped Burn, which in turn helped the crew. They’d survived for so long together as a crew because they understood what made each other tick.

He stowed the supplies, pulled out Heddi’s clothes, and headed to the medical room, where Kana still sat, playing on her tablet, and Heddi slept in the closed pod. Jack set the clothes on the counter. “I noticed her clothes had holes in them, so I picked up some new stuff.”

Kana smiled. “She’ll like that, I hope.”

Then he pulled out the candy and handed it to Kana. “The clerk said the kids love this stuff.”

Kana’s smile widened. “I know she will.”

“Burn headed into town. We leave for Mars in an hour,” he said and headed to the bridge to run pre-flight checks and—more importantly—run hull scans to make sure no one and nothing came near Cabrón.

CHAPTER 8

Jack was washing his bowl and spoon after lunch when he heard a shriek. He dropped the dishes and sprinted down the hallway to find Burn in the systems area. He was holding Heddi in the air, away from the walkway, so that she floated. She was laughing.

Relief filled him.

“Hey, Jack. Just showing Heddi how the gravity works on this ship, since most ships have magnetized floors instead of actual gravity,” Burn said, still holding Heddi steady. “See, Heddi?” He tapped the floor. “Gravity here.” He released her, and she squealed again. “No gravity there.”

“Don’t let go!” she said.

He tugged her to him and settled her to the floor. She was wearing the new outfit Jack had bought. The jumper was a bit baggy, but he was surprised at how well the boots had adapted to her feet.

She stared at the floor. “Amazing. Floor’s magic.”

“Not magic,” Jack said, smiling. “Just science. It’s called an antihydrogen gravitational system. The walls and ceilings are lined with neutral antimatter while the floors are just made of your standard material. That way, walkways provide real gravity, but it’s why when you step off them, you’ll be floating. You’ll see this on any Corps ship and on most yachts out there. It was an insanely expensive upgrade, but the best one we ever made.” It had cost the crew fifteen years of combined income to buy the system, but they’d been saving and investing their credits for nearly two hundred years. Kana was smart at investing and handled the crew’s money. They were doing okay.

“Magic,” Heddi said. “Ain’t never seen anything like it. Every ship I rode in was rusty an’ about to fall apart an’ didn’t have gravity. Pops didn’t have money for us to fly on something this nice.”

“I’m sure he tried to do right by you, though,” Burn said.

Heddi shrugged. “Guess. Pops used to be a really good pops, before Mum died. But when she died, he got down, and he ain’t ever got over it. I have to take care of him.”

Burn put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s hard when someone you love dies.”

She sniffled and wiped her nose. Jack noticed her fingertips were a grayish pink now. Another few days of letting her body do its natural healing, and she’d be back to one hundred percent.

“But he’s with her now, so he’s happy, an’ that makes me happy,” she said.

“That’s right, so you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” Burn said.

She didn’t seem to cheer up. Jack spoke. “We want to show you something, Heddi.”

Her curiosity widened her eyes, and Jack tapped the intercom. “Kana, it’s time.”

“Yay!”

Heddi cocked her head and followed Jack down the hallway, past the airlocks and then past the medical room and health room. He stopped at a room across the hallway from the ship’s bathroom, only this door had no sign. Kana was already waiting for them, trying and failing at concealing a smile.

“This used to be for overflow storage, but we thought it had a better use.” Jack opened the door. Inside was a crew quarters identical in size to Kana and Veda’s quarters and Burn’s quarters. A Murphy bed was opened and made with fresh sheets and blankets.

“This is your room,” Kana said.

“Until we reach Mars,” Jack corrected.

“We thought you’d like something more comfortable than the healing pod and medical room,” Kana said.

Heddi looked at each of the crew in turn as if she were trying to believe them.

“Go on. Check it out. It’s your room now,” Burn said.

Heddi ran and jumped onto the bed. “Ain’t ever had one of those before! An’ it’s so big. It’s as big as Ma an’ Pops’ bed when they had one.” She frowned. “Where’d ya get the bed an’ stuff?”

“It belonged to a couple of crew members who are no longer with us,” Kana answered.

Heddi’s expression fell. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago,” Kana said.

“Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got fifteen days and two garbage pickups until we reach Mars Station. You can decorate how you want, but don’t damage anything,” Jack said.

Heddi gulped.

“Jack’s kidding. Have all the fun you want in here. It’s your room. Raise hell if you want. You’re not going to hurt anything,” Burn said, shooting Jack a wide grin.

Heddi eyed Burn. “Don’t use that word.”

Burn frowned as he thought. “What word? Wait, you mean ‘hell’? That’s not even a cuss word.”

She nodded. “Cussin’ words are fine. Am thirteen, not some kid. Hell’s a special word for pitters, it’s what we call a pittin’ camp. When you say it, I think of home. Use ‘heck’ or somethin’ else, okay?”

Jack raised his brow. “You’re thirteen? I thought you were nine.”

Her jaw dropped. “Nine? Really? You crazy.”

“He is a little crazy. No one would argue that point,” Burn said. “I’ll try to use ‘heck,’ but I can’t promise anything, okay?”

She nodded.

Kana walked over to the wall of drawers, opened the drawer under a mirror, and pulled out a tablet. She carried it over and settled onto the bed next to Heddi. “And this tablet is yours. I’ve added a few apps already, mostly for language, math, and the sciences. I suspect your education may have been a bit lax, so I thought we could start with some basics. I don’t want a lack of access to educational tools to hold you back from doing anything you want.”

Heddi shrugged. “Sure.”

Kana smiled. “I also added a game or two, because you can’t study all the time.”

Heddi grinned. “Awesome.”

Heddi seemed wholly focused on her new tablet, so Jack stepped out, and Burn followed.

When the door closed behind them, Burn scolded Jack. “You know, you don’t have to keep reminding her that she’s getting dumped off on a place she’s never been before.”

“I don’t want her to misunderstand the situation. She can’t stay here with us. You know that. None of us would have the first clue on raising a kid.”

“From the sounds of it, she didn’t get to be much of a kid before she met us,” Burn said.

“What’ll you think will happen when she grows up and keeps getting older while we never change?” Jack asked.

Burn watched him for a moment. “I suppose we’d figure it out along the way, just like we always have.”

CHAPTER 9

Veda made his way through the walkways of Woven City. He walked with purpose, at a gait that would neither draw attention nor seem suspicious. Tourists lollygagged and those on a mission hurried to their destination. People who walked somewhere between those extremes, as though they knew exactly where they were going, as though they’d been there a hundred times before, were the least noticeable.

And Veda knew where he was going. Jack’s message had confirmed Veda’s strategy. He glanced at Jack’s message as he walked:

Bumped into a fellow who works for Spacecology. Gave a nice recruitment speech, sounds like they’re really pulling in the hauls. Might be a ripe offer worth considering.

Veda knew the underlying message—the real message under that fluff: Ran into Tally. He’s guilty. Hasn’t showered yet, and he’s all yours.

Frank Tally was headed for the one place everyone who didn’t fly on a Corps ship or a yacht went: the baths. Most ships had crappy showers—hell, half the ships out there had no showers at all—which meant people craved to take a hot, long shower when they docked, especially when the baths were free of charge, courtesy of Sol Corps’ incessant messaging that cleanliness helped keep disease down.

The baths were easy to find, centrally located in the residential sector and just one sector away from the popular retail sector. Veda never looked up to read signs—that’d place his face in full view of the cameras stationed high, conveniently above many signs. When he arrived, he found it busy but no lines. He entered through a doorway leading to a hallway lined with private changing rooms. Six rooms were occupied, while the remaining doors stood open, ready for use. He entered an empty room near the front. Inside, he pulled out a second, smaller tablet and activated it. Immediately, a small blip appeared on the map. It was still in the office sector but moving toward the elevators.

Veda had at least ten minutes. He took a seat and waited, watching the blip move across the map of Woven City. Kana’s gamer network was composed of techs and hackers dispersed across the system. Once you earned their trust in the game, you could trade skills for just about anything out there. Hackers sold their skills only to people they didn’t trust; they traded skills with their friends. Kana had a lot of online friends, including ones who worked in Woven City. While she didn’t need help tracking a Sol Corps geolocator—any decent computer tech could track Sol Corps armlets—she preferred to call in a favor rather than hack Woven City’s systems.

That favor was about to come in handy.

He sat on the bench and waited. When the blip approached the baths, entered, then moved past Veda, he stood and cracked his neck. His adrenaline was building, and he clenched and unclenched his fingers several times. The blip stopped in a changing room three down from Veda’s. Even then, Veda waited until the blip moved about two meters deeper in the private stall.

He waited for two more minutes, then he exited his stall and went to stall that indicated Frank Tally’s tag. He held the tablet over the panel, letting Kana’s access code—a Woven City cleaning crew code provided by a friend of hers—override the lock. The door clicked, and he opened the door. As soon as he was inside the small changing room, he tugged off the backpack and set the tablet on the bench next to it. In the corner sat a pile of clothes so stiff with grime that they looked like they could stand on their own. He looked at the next door that led to the private shower as he pulled up the lower zipper of his coveralls from the groin to unsheathe a knife. He tugged the zipper closed again and took two quick steps to the thin door standing between him and the shower stall.

This door had no locks since it was simply a privacy partition that helped keep the steam in the shower area. Veda flung open the door. A naked man, still in decent shape for pushing seventy, spun around, his eyes wide.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize this shower was taken,” Veda said.

His words confused Tally for the split second it took Veda to lunge forward. Tally sprang into action quick for his age but nowhere near fast enough. Veda slammed the junker against the wall and pressed the knife against his throat. Hot water rained down on them as Veda held him there.

“What do you want?” Tally asked.

“What do I want?” Veda asked. “That’s a good question. Well, my captain wants you to never steal from us again. My crew wants reprimands for the short load we brought in because you robbed us.”

“There’s been a mistake. I never stole any loads,” Tally said in a rush.

Veda whipped the knife away and stabbed Tally in the shoulder. Tally cried out but bit his lip when Venda brought the blade back to the junker’s throat.

“Lying’s a bad idea.”

Tally was grimacing and grunting in pain. He wasn’t even looking at Veda anymore.

“You going to start telling the truth?” Veda asked.

Tally stiffly nodded. “Wha-what ship do you fly on?”

“Cabrón.”

Recognition flashed on Tally’s features before he began stammering, “I-I never—”

Veda pressed the blade harder. “You sure you want to finish that sentence?”

Tally’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I can make things right. I can cover your losses, even more. I swear it’ll never happen again. But you gotta let me live so I can make things right.”

Veda eyed the junker, and Tally practically shriveled before him. “You see, your mistake was when you thought we were just like other junkers, just like other 1.0s.”

“1-1.0s?”

Veda ignored the question. “But we’re not, and we don’t put up with shit. You asked what I wanted. Let me tell you what I want… Well, what I want is to kill you. That’s all.”

Tally’s eyes jerked right before Veda twisted him around and sliced the blade deep across his throat. Blood splattered the shower wall. The junker tried to cough and breathe as Veda held him against the wall. Blood turned the water red as it ran down the drain. When Tally quit struggling and grew lax, Veda let the man drop to the floor to finish bleeding out.

Veda stood under the spray to rinse blood from his knife and hands. When he was convinced that he was clean enough, he stepped into the changing room. There, he dried the knife on a towel and sheathed the blade before removing his coveralls. His clothing underneath was relatively dry, but water had seeped in around his neckline and sleeves. He tossed the hat on the coveralls, grabbed another towel and dried off his face, hair, and neck. Finished, he shoved the towels down the clothing chute in the changing room.

He opened the backpack. First, he fastened an armlet around his forearm before putting on a knee-length jacket that covered his holster and sheath. Then he donned a stocking hat before stuffing the wet coveralls and hat into the backpack. He grabbed the tablet and selected an app that bore the image of a round bomb. He pressed it, and a sixty-second countdown started. The tablet went into the backpack, and he left the stall.

Near the entrance was a garbage chute, where he shoved in the backpack, and he strolled out of the baths as though he’d just had a nice long shower… which he’d had. He then headed to Woven City’s travel sector, where he made a straight line for the passenger travel counter. There were several commercial options available. Instead, he chose a bargain seat on a hauler flight to Mars, leaving in fifteen minutes. He activated the freebie Sol Corps armlet he’d picked up a couple of months back and connected a credit account he’d set up the day before. After buying the cheap seat, he headed straight for that dock, where he showed his ticket and claimed one of the half-dozen seats that the haulers had poorly installed in between their storage area and crew cabins.

A crew member’s pace slowed as he noticed Veda’s weapons peeking out from under his jacket. Being armed wasn’t illegal—plenty of travelers were armed—but it tended to invite getting hassled by Sol Corps. But this hauler wasn’t Sol Corps, so Veda didn’t worry.

“What do you want?” Veda asked.

“Nothing.” The crew member moved on.

As soon as the ship departed Woven City, he sent a message to Kana through his crew tablet.

Vacation is good, but I miss you. See you soon. Love, V.

He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He may have even smiled. After all, he felt better than he had in months.

CHAPTER 10

Cabrón’s shuttle detached, and Jack began the descent into Mars’ atmosphere. Without Veda onboard, Burn and Kana had to stay back to keep the minimum of two crew members guarding the ship. Jack had really considered breaking the rule this one time. That way, he wouldn’t be stuck alone with Heddi, who was sulking in the seat next to him.

After a minute of silence, she pleaded her case once again. “Please, Captain. Swear I’m a fast learner, an’ can do anything. Give me the crappiest jobs an’ I’ll do ’em. Can clean toilets.”

“No, Heddi.”

“Can fit into places none of the other crew can. Please, Captain. Be no bother, promise.”

“Sorry, kiddo. A junker crew isn’t a place for a kid. My friend is going to see that you get a real home and a real family.”

She lowered her head. “Family’s all dead. No one else out there could be my real family.”

“I suppose not,” Jack said quietly. His panel chimed as the shuttle entered Mars Station’s airspace. He activated his comm. “Mars Station dock control, this is Cabrón, Starwing class, Mars-Four-One-One-Juliet-One, requesting a dock.”

“Cabrón, this is Mars Station dock control. You’re cleared to attach to dock six,” a female voice replied.

“Dock six for Cabrón,” Jack replied, and he entered the information into the shuttle’s landing system.

Radio work used to be automated, and ships handled all the flying, including launches and landings, but somewhere along the way systems had become more expensive than people, and human workers had started replacing computers on jobs that computers had previously replaced them on. Jack didn’t mind. He tended to trust people more than computers, though the number of people he could trust he could count on one hand.

Heddi didn’t speak again during the descent and landing, not until they were docked and Jack had unbuckled his seatbelt.

She jumped and stood between him and the door. “Please, Captain. Don’t know no one here. Don’t dump me.”

Her eyes were wet, but a tear didn’t fall, and her expression damn near made him turn around and fly back to Cabrón. But he knew better than to trust his emotions. Emotions would get a person killed. Rationally, he knew he was doing the right thing for Heddi.

He clasped her shoulder to turn her toward the door. “Sorry, Heddi. I wish there was another way.”

She jerked away from him and huffed, taking the lead off the shuttle. She tapped the panel to open the door, but it wouldn’t open, and she glared back at Jack.

Jack swiped his hand over the panel. The system recognized his biometrics, and the door opened. Before he did the same to the outer airlock door, he turned to Heddi. “Stick with me out there and keep your eyes down. Don’t ever look up. Cameras get your eyes if you look up and can scan you.”

She shrugged. “Why’s that matter?”

“Because Sol Corps might connect you to Pallas Six.”

“So?”

“Because every pitter from Pallas Six is dead, and they might be curious why you’re still alive.” With that, he opened the door and entered the airbridge leading to Mars Station.

Heddi walked alongside. She was wearing the outfit he’d bought her and clutching her tablet to her chest. The airbridge opened onto a walkway on which all the other airbridges opened. The pair took the walkway to a set of double doors that automatically opened. Jack slowed as he stepped through. A station clerk wearing a Sol Corps uniform stood at a security gate that wasn’t there the last time Jack had been there.

He approached the clerk with trepidation.

She motioned to a scanner when he reached her. “Your credentials.”

“Why the new security?” he asked.

“Risk levels have been raised across the system. All interplanetary stations require security scans.”

“What caused them to be raised?” he asked.

The clerk bristled. “I don’t know and don’t care. What I care about is doing my job. Elevated risk levels mean you’re required to scan your credentials to enter Mars Station. Now, scan them or return to your ship. If you refuse to scan and still want to enter Mars Station, you’ll have to go through an interview.”

He held his hands out. “There’s no problem here. I’ll scan.” He pulled out his tablet, opened his profile, and slid it under the scanner.

“You don’t have an armlet?” the clerk asked.

“I’m allergic to the bands. They give me rashes,” he replied.

Jack grabbed Heddi’s hand and went to walk through the gate when the clerk said, “Wait. She has to scan too.”

“But she’s just a kid.”

“The rules. All people, age ten and over, have to be scanned.”

“She’s only nine,” he said.

The clerk scrutinized Heddi for a length and then waved him off. “Fine. But she needs to be accompanied by an adult at all times.”

He led Heddi through the gate, his temper simmering. With security at all the big stations, a person would have to go to only the small spots to avoid being scanned. It was getting downright unpleasant to travel. He gritted his teeth. The time was getting closer that Cabrón would have to head to the outer belt where things were still somewhat unmonitored.

As soon as they were through the gate, Heddi yanked her hand free and moped alongside him. He kept watch over her as he led them through the massive, multi-level Mars Station that bustled with activity. She never looked up, though he could see her checking out the stores out of the corner of her eye. He considered taking her to a store to find candy—she’d devoured the Starshots Kana had given her. But he quickly told himself that prolonging the transfer wouldn’t do her any good, and she’d get plenty of candy once Mars Station became her home.

He guided her through the station to a row of bars and entering a bar that read Jesters on the door. Only two customers were at the bar, which was typical for that time of day, and Jack wasn’t there to drink. He passed through the bar, through a door that read Staff Only and into the kitchen, and through there to another door. Jack didn’t try to open that door. This was an old-fashioned door—the kind with no automation and no panel, but there was a doorbell below a mini dented speaker. He pressed the doorbell.

A second later, a gruff male voice came through the static-filled speaker. “Who is it?”

“Captain Jack Hale.”

A few seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a large, bald man. A scar ran down the left side of his face and through his eye, so that his left eye was a dull gray, a contrast to his dark brown right eye. His gaze went from Jack to Heddi and back to Jack.

“Hey, Robo,” Jack said.

“Come on in,” he said.

Jack glanced down at Heddi to find her taking a step back. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me.”

She didn’t seem to believe him—she gave him that look a lot—but she followed him through the doorway and into the adjacent room, where a woman with black hair was bent over a microscope.

“Hale brought the kid,” Robo said as he leaned against the wall.

“What metal are you looking at now?” Jack asked.

Domino held up a finger for a long second before spinning her chair to face him. “I’m still trying to figure that out. We came across something entirely new in a new dig out in the Mariner Valley, and I’m working at identifying it. It’s the most exciting project I’ve had in a long time, but enough about the day in the life of a metallurgist. That’s not why you’re here.” She stood and strode over to Heddi.

“You must be Heddi. I’m sorry about what happened to your father and friends. One-Hand Willie was a very dear friend of mine.”

Heddi seemed to brighten at the mention of Willie.

Domino turned to Jack then. She gave a warm smile, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him. He didn’t pull back. He enjoyed the kiss but didn’t melt into it. He knew her flirting was just that… flirting and nothing more. When she pulled away, she was still smiling, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Take a seat. Let’s talk.”

Jack herded Heddi to the well-worn sofa. He’d barely sat down before Domino’s cat jumped onto his lap, curled into a ball, and started purring. He sighed but didn’t push it away.

Domino laughed. “I think Mittens has a crush on you. She doesn’t do that to anyone else.”

“That’s me. A cat pillow,” he said. The truth was that transhumans ran about four degrees warmer than regular humans, and that made Jack’s lap akin to catnip for cats.

He noticed Heddi was staring intently at the cat. “Go ahead. Pet it,” he said quietly.

She shot him a glance before tentatively reaching out her hand. She touched it first with just two fingers. When the cat moved its head against Heddi’s fingers, she petted it with her hand. A full smile grew along with the cat’s purring.

Domino turned to Robo. “How about you take Heddi to Alabaster’s? Maybe find a teddy bear or something.”

Robo nodded.

Heddi grimaced. “A teddy bear? Ain’t a kid.”

Robo cocked his head. “You look like a kid. How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

Robo turned to Domino, who turned to Jack. “You told me she was nine.”

Jack shrugged. “I can’t tell kids’ ages.”

Heddi cocked her head. “You’re wrong a lot.”

Domino stifled a laugh. “Sounds like she’s got you figured out, Hale.” She faced Heddi. “Robo’s going to take you to get something to eat at the bar while Captain Hale and I have a little chat. You’re small for your age due to malnutrition. We’ll work on that.”

Heddi’s gaze pleaded with Jack.

“It’s only for a few minutes, and I’m going to be just a few meters away,” Jack said.

She gave him that look again, but she accompanied Robo from the room, leaving Jack alone with Domino and a very loud cat.

As soon as the door closed, Domino spoke. “What’d you learn from Heddi about what happened at Pallas Six?”

Jack grimaced. “Arclight made an announcement that they were shutting down mining operations and then the power went out.”

She snapped her fingers. “Like that?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

Her frown deepened. “And Willie?”

Jack shook his head. “He left her to try to get the generators running. I didn’t come across him. Sorry.”

She began to pace as she seemed to process the information. “The newsfeed didn’t mention that Arclight was going to close down operations. I wonder why that didn’t make the news.”

“Wouldn’t be good PR for Arclight.”

She was quiet for a moment. “I still don’t believe it was a systems failure. No way. The timing is too much of a coincidence.”

“Timing?”

She scrutinized him before answering. “Willie was the leader of the Pallas Bitterenders.”

“Bitterenders?”

“Bitterenders are the Pallas faction of the resistance, just like the Red Rovers are the Mars faction. We operate in factions so that if one is taken down, the overall cause won’t be destroyed.” She wagged a finger. “And don’t play coy that you didn’t know that. I’m good at reading people, and I can tell that you know more than you let on. I wish I knew as much about you as you seem to know about me. I like to know my people. You, I never feel like I know. Not really.”

He shrugged. “Probably because there’s nothing to know about me. I’m a very boring man.” He had no doubt she’d run multiple background searches on him, not that they’d tell her much besides very boring, very false information.

She laughed. “The one thing you most certainly are not is boring, Captain Hale. Join the cause. We could use another good crew.”

“The one thing I’m sure you know about me is that I don’t take on a job that’s not a safe bet. You can’t beat Sol Corps. They’re too big, and their shadows are everywhere. Believe me, I’m no fan of theirs, but trying to do things they don’t want done has only met failure. Mamau, New Liberty, the Netmorph project, and now Pallas Six, just to name a few. All of those places went against Sol Corps, and none of those places exist anymore. That’s no coincidence.”

She cocked her head. “My, my, Captain Hale. This is the first time I’ve seen it. You are a rebel at heart. Those places failed because they tried to go after Sol Corps on their own. When we all work together, they’ll have to listen.”

Jack chortled. “And you want them to give you something? Every freedom you win, you’ll lose two.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Ever since Sol Corps was established, every right they handed to colonists with their right hand, they quietly stole two away with their left. Sure, they might give you something you ask for, but you’d better be worried about what they’ll be taking away.”

“It won’t be that way, not if we hold the power.”

“But they hold the power, and they won’t give that up easily.”

“Not without a fight, so we give them a fight,” she added. “Join us. You don’t have to fight. As a junker, you can fly into any station without being questioned. You can help in moving people and resources.”

“Sorry, Domino. Like you said, I’m a junker, and every member of my crew’s a junker. We’re nomads. We don’t settle anywhere, and we don’t pledge allegiance to anyone.”

“By not joining the cause, you’re pledging allegiance to Sol Corps.”

He shook his head. “I disagree.”

She smirked. “I’m not going to give up on you, Hale, because I believe in you.”

Domino paced another lap across the room before she spoke again. “You know why I believe Sol Corps shut down the power at Pallas Six? The day after Pallas Six fell was when Willie was going to launch an attack against the Sol Corps offices at Pallas Station.”

His brow furrowed. “You think Sol Corps killed everyone in Pallas Six to kill Willie?”

She nodded. “I do.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. If they had intel on his plans, then they could’ve just gone in and arrested him. There was no need to slaughter a camp full of innocents.”

“You’re thinking like a belter. You have to strip away your heart and think with your head. Willie was loved by everyone. If they arrested him, he would’ve become a martyr. Arresting him would give the resistance more strength.”

She wasn’t wrong, even though he hated to think that Sol Corps could be so cold. Who was he kidding? He knew better than anyone how heartless Sol Corps could be. The last word Domino said reminded him of the Chinese symbol—the mark of the resistance. He pulled the tablet from his pocket and handed it to her. “Willie left this with Heddi after the power went out. I think it’ll be safer with you.”

Her eyes brightened.

She activated the screen, entered a code, and the tablet’s main menu opened to her. She barely glanced up while she spoke. “This tablet has all of Willie’s plans in it. Any ideas he had for the resistance are stored in here.” An expression of glee formed on her face. “He saved the Bitterenders by leaving this with Heddi. You don’t know how valuable—and how dangerous—this tablet is. People would’ve killed Heddi for it.”

“Have you found a family for Heddi, someone who’ll keep her safe?” he asked.

She chortled. “Mars Station is up to its armpits in orphans. I’ve arranged a bed for her at Station House. They’ll make sure that she’s fed properly and taken care of until she turns eighteen.”

He grimaced. “An orphanage?”

“Sorry, but times are tough, and there’s no sign of them getting better. It’s the best I can do. She won’t have a great childhood, but it’ll be a decent one… better than her growing up in the tunnels. And, as an orphan with a new identity, she’ll be less likely to be noticed by Sol Corps.”

His jaw tightened as he thought about Heddi’s future. That wasn’t what he envisioned for the sole survivor of Pallas Six.

“Hale?” Domino asked.

Jack moved the cat, Buttons, from his lap and stood. “Keep the credits you offered to pay me for going after Willie.” Then he walked out of the room and headed straight to the bar.

There, he found Heddi sitting at a table next to a window. Robo sat across from her, drinking a beer, while she slurped noodles. Jack glanced through the window to see a Mars Station camera positioned at an intersection in the walkway. It wasn’t directly pointed at Jesters, but it was close enough. He grimaced, walked over to the table, and held out his hand. “Come.”

She frowned but put her hand in his.

“We’re going back to the ship.” He turned to walk, and she scrambled to grab her tablet.

When they left the bar, he said, “I don’t think Mars Station is right for you.”

She didn’t reply, but she smiled and held his hand all the way back to the shuttle.

CHAPTER 11

“Managing Director Junger is here to see you, sir,” Coffman’s voice came through Charles Metrell’s armlet.

“Show her in,” he replied.

By the time Charles stood, his door opened, and Coffman escorted in the current leader of Sol Corps. Marlo Junger walked stiffly as ever, like she was worried she’d get some kind of invisible filth on her.

Charles smiled. “Director, what a pleasant surprise.”

She didn’t return his smile. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at Coffman.

His assistant noticed and looked to him. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes. Wait outside.”

As Coffman left, Junger spoke. “Your assistant is still quite formal. Don’t tell me she still calls you ‘general’ when no one else is around.”

“Of course not. We dispensed with our ranks when the rest of Sol Corps did.” Charles’ smile faded. “I know you don’t like me, so I can only assume this visit isn’t for social reasons.”

She motioned to a chair, and he nodded. They each took a seat on opposing sides of his desk.

“It’s not that I don’t like you, Charles. I don’t like what you are. You and that assistant of yours are relics of a bygone era, when experiments and secret projects were conducted without any regard to consequences. The human species has evolved since then. We’ve learned that it’s foolish to veer off our flight path, evolutionarily speaking. Yet here you still are. Your continued existence goes against the natural order.”

“Perhaps. But if a Waymaker can live for thousands of years, why is it wrong for a human to live longer than a century?” he asked.

“I would argue that Waymakers aren’t alive. They’re machines.”

“You’re bringing up a debate that has gone on for over two centuries and has yet to be resolved.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you,” she said. “We have different perspectives, and I didn’t come here to debate.”

Charles leaned forward. “Which brings us to the real reason why you came here: Pallas Six.”

She blanched before regaining her composure. “You’re spying on me.”

He shook his head. “No, I gave you my word I wouldn’t do that, and I keep my word. It doesn’t take a spy to know that what happened to that mining camp wasn’t an accident. Since the Waymakers refuse to harm biological life, that means someone authorized that power-down… and someone did authorize the power-down. I checked the system logs. There were no system failures reported. As the penultimate authority in Sol, whether you authorized it or not, I have no doubt you were quite aware of it. Correct me if I’m mistaken.”

Her features tightened She didn’t contradict his statement.

He steepled his fingers. “I attempted to cover it up. However, since you’re here, I suspect there’s been a problem. I’m not sure what assistance I can provide at this time.”

She placed her hands on her lap. “Your unique relationship with the Waymakers and your continued dedication to Sol Corps makes you an asset, especially when dealing with things that have rather complicated contexts.”

According to historical records, Charles Metrell and Janita Coffman had died of old age, him nearly two hundred years ago and Janita over one hundred and fifty years ago, both of natural causes. The pair were the last living souls who’d experienced the arrival of the Waymakers firsthand. He’d been a part of the envoy that established the first treaty of unity with the AI, and he’d stayed in contact with the Waymakers since the beginning. In fact, he was one of very, very few people who had a direct line of contact with the AI species.

He understood the Waymakers, and they understood him. It was because of that relationship that they’d allowed him and Janita to receive nano-treatments, a science prohibited after the tragic failure of the Aria mission. The Waymakers liked continuity—humans’ brief lifespans got in the way of that. Taking Charles and his assistant through a nanotech program was their way of saying he was their friend. Not that an AI truly had friends. Charles considered himself a trusted resource—an ally—rather than their friend. He didn’t quite see the Waymakers in the same light. While he had no doubt that they saw humanity’s wellbeing as their priority, he knew better than to trust them. They were far too intelligent for him to believe that he was nothing more than a pawn.

Charles leaned back in his chair. “I take it you’d like me to speak with the Waymakers about something.”

“I hope we do not need to involve them. Rather, I have a special project for you.”

He lifted his chin. “Ah, I see.”

“Surveillance systems at Mars Station have identified a potential survivor of Pallas Six,” Junger said as she tapped her armlet. “I’m sending you the details now.”

Charles checked the incoming information. His stomach soured as he read. She was just a kid. “And could this survivor give a truth that contradicts the news stories?”

“That is one reason. More importantly, I have reason to believe she was associated with the local rebel leader, and she might be of use.”

He glanced up. “If you want to scan her mind, you don’t need her alive for that.”

“Correct. I only need the brain unspoiled, but this situation is unique. I’d like the girl intact in case I need leverage on a pet project of mine.”

He scrolled through the information. “From the looks of it, she was likely picked up by pirates. The chances that she’s even still alive are slim. If she is still alive, they would’ve long since sold her. It may take some time to locate her.”

“Cameras show that she remained with the same man the entire time on Mars Station. My guess is he brought her there to sell, and the sale fell through. His shuttle is in the docking logs. Start there.”

He nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

“Your discretion is appreciated. If Sol Corps is seen hunting a survivor—a child, no less—it would reflect poorly on us.”

“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll set to work immediately.”

She stood. “Thank you, Charles. Notify me as soon as you have the subject at the SC3.”

He stood and tilted his head, and she exited. His jaw tightened as soon as she left. He would take care of it—that’s what he did, after all… maintain the system.

Janita walked in, just like she did after every meeting with Junger. She knew Marlo Junger never stooped to visit Charles in the proverbial basement of the SC3 unless she had a dirty job. “Sir?”

He practically snarled. “We’ve been tasked to clean up another one of Junger’s messes.”

CHAPTER 12

Jack and Heddi entered the shuttle to find Veda sitting in the copilot’s seat, his feet propped on the panel.

Veda glanced over, then scowled. “I thought you were getting rid of her.”

Heddi scowled back at him.

“Change of plans,” Jack said. “How’d your vacation go?”

“As sweet as the sun,” Veda replied before downing a narrow shot of nicotea.

“Good to hear.”

“Nasty stuff, Veda. Shouldn’t drink it.”

“I know. Believe me, I know,” Veda said.

Jack pressed the girl in. “Get strapped in.”

She did as she was told, but she kept talking to Veda. “Pops drank that stuff. Got hooked on it.”

Veda chortled. “Listen, squirt, I’ve been hooked on this crap more times than I can count, and I’ve gone off it just as many… well, almost just as many. We all have vices, squirt. Nicotea’s mine.”

“One of them, anyway.” Jack tapped Veda’s boots. Veda took his feet off the panel and fastened his seatbelt.

Jack sat and buckled in. He ran the pre-flight checks. When all was green, he tapped the comms and activated a request to Kana. A response came immediately.

“This is Cabrón,” she said.

“Veda’s with me, and we’re ready to undock. Oh, and Heddi’s coming too,” Jack said.

There was a pause. “Looking forward to seeing you.”

Jack smirked at Veda. “I wonder which one of you she was talking about.”

Veda looked over his shoulder at Heddi. “The squirt. Definitely the squirt.”

The flight back to Cabrón was quick. Both Kana and Burn were waiting for them at the airlock after they attached. Heddi was the first one through the doorway.

“Hey, kiddo. Welcome back,” Burn said.

Kana hugged the girl. “I’m glad you’re back.” Then she turned to Veda.

The husband and wife embraced. Kana smiled after she kissed Veda. “I see you’re in a better mood.”

He was also smiling. “Yes, I am.”

She glanced back at Jack. “You have the bridge. I’m going to be busy for the next hour.”

She tugged him down the hallway.

“Make it two,” Veda said before wrapping an arm around her and rushing them to their room.

Jack ignored the pair and turned back to Burn. “Sorry for not picking up the wiring you asked for. I didn’t want to stay down there any longer than necessary, not with her.”

“No problem,” Burn said.

“Captain?” Heddi’s voice was light.

Jack focused on her. “Yeah?”

She gulped. “One of the crew now?”

He held up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’re a guest on the ship for now. Any big decision like adding a crew member has to be vetted and approved by the rest of the crew. That’s not my call.”

“Hey, kiddo. How about you get settled in your bunk? The captain and I are going to have a chat,” Burn said.

Heddi nodded, eyed Jack for one long second, and bounded off to her room.

Jack turned to Burn. “They were going to toss her into an orphanage.”

“I figured it was something like that.” Burn’s cheeks puffed as he blew out a breath. “Well, that’s sure to complicate things. For one thing, having a kid onboard is going to require me to cut my vocabulary in half. But on the plus side, she’s a runt. She can fit into tight spaces, which can come in handy when we’re working on conduit.”

“We’ll find a home for her. She’s a good kid. Someone will want her,” Jack said.

Burn sized up Jack for a moment and then changed the subject. “Jaeden called earlier. Said that Spacecology was all riled up. Evidently, one of their captains got himself robbed and killed on Woven City.”

Jack raised a brow. “Oh yeah? That’s a shame.”

Burn grinned. “That’s what I thought too.”

The proximity alarm sounded. Burn’s eyes went wide, and Jack raced for the bridge. He activated the panel at his seat. A ship, also in Mars orbit, was on an intercept trajectory. The comm screen was blinking.

Burn had run onto the bridge behind him and stood nearby as Jack tapped the communication.

“Attention, unknown vessel on our trajectory. This is the S.C.S. Serval. You have been flagged for a standard en route check. You are hereby ordered to power down engines and prepare to be boarded. You have five minutes to comply. If any crew members are armed or show any signs of noncompliance, you will be treated as a hostile ship, and we will respond accordingly. Respond within sixty seconds of your confirmation of receipt. Convey ship logs and crew list with response.”

“Shit,” Jack said. After taking a deep breath, he hit the transmit switch. “Serval, this is Starwing Mars Four-One-One-Juliet-One. Instructions received and will comply. We’ve been doing some maintenance and are running slow. It may take us a bit longer to get powered down.”

“Hauler Playa-One-Bravo, you have five minutes to power down and prepare for boarding. No more.”

Jack gritted his teeth. “You can always count on Sol Corps to be consistent.”

“Yeah, consistently assholes,” Burn muttered.

“Heddi’s not on the roster. See about stashing her somewhere.”

Burn nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Jack then broadcasted an alert to the crew. “Red alert, team. We’ve been invited to tea with our Sol Corps friends. Check your bunks. Make sure you hide anything less than perfectly legal, because we’re about to be boarded.”

CHAPTER 13

Serval’s captain was exactly like every other sentinel Jack had come across—a real prick. He was busy looking around the bridge while Jack stood nearby.

“I’ve been aboard Starwings before. This is no Starwing,” the other captain said.

“It’s been modified,” Jack said.

“It doesn’t even look like a Starwing.”

“It’s been highly modified,” Jack added.

The captain spun on his heel then and eyed Jack. “Junkers can’t afford this kind of customization. The gravity alone would cost you, what, twenty years’ income?”

“Ten. We’re good junkers,” Jack replied.

“Why isn’t it on the Sol Corps network?” the captain snapped.

“Because it’s perfectly legal for a ship to not be on the network.”

“For now. That law’s changing in the next session.” The captain snorted. “Damn runners. I don’t know how you got the paperwork through to look legit on record, but I’d bet plugs to punch guns that you stole this ship from some private transport corporation. What do you use it to run? Drugs? Weapons? People? With how dark it’s painted, I bet you run the worst of the worst.”

The Sol Corps officer didn’t seem to expect a response, because he turned back to his tablet and started heading down the hallway where sentinels were busy going through every room. Jack looked in the galley as he walked by to see his three other crew members sitting around the table. They shared a knowing glance before Jack caught up with the captain, who was counting each bunk as he strolled. “Four bunks. I assume one for each crew member.”

“Correct,” Jack said.

The captain checked out each room in turn. He kept looking at the crew roster on his armlet. “I saw your crew. You’re barely recognizable in your roster pictures.”

“We got our pictures taken after a long run.”

“Sure. If you messed around with the images anymore, I could fine you for manipulated identities.”

“Like I said, we’d just got back after a long run. We didn’t have time to get all prettied up for our roster photos,” Jack said.

The captain shook his head and continued his search. He cocked his head as he stood in Kana and Veda’s room. “It looks like two people live here.”

“Kana Kocher and Veda Kocher are married,” Jack replied.

“But there are four bunks in use.”

“Kana and Veda argue a lot,” Jack said.

The captain went into Heddi’s bunk, and Jack took a cursory glance to make sure there was nothing that would give her away. The officer picked up the tablet sitting on Heddi’s bed and tapped the screen. He swiped through the screens. “This tablet has educational apps on it.”

“That’s Veda’s tablet. He believes in the importance of education,” Jack said.

The captain’s gaze narrowed. “It’s schoolwork for a pre-teen.”

Jack shrugged. “He’s a slow learner.”

Another Sol Corps officer came in, who Jack assumed was the second-in-command.

“What’d you find?” the captain asked.

“Nothing illegal yet, sir. Some nicotea. Unregistered weapons and computers… suspicious things, but nothing that’s outright illegal.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Jack said.

She shot him a glare.

“Keep looking. With these bunks set up the way they are, I think there’s at least one stowaway onboard,” the captain said as he held up the tablet and wagged it at Jack. “And we’re going to find her.”

Jack froze. The captain had said her. Not him, but her. His jaw hardened. “Why did you really stop my ship, Captain?”

“Random en route check,” the captain replied all too easily.

“I’ve got something!” one of the Sol Corps crew yelled from the area of shuttle two. “Ow! You little scamp!” There was a flurry of activity.

Jack moved, only to have a gun pointed in his face. The captain had his finger on the trigger. “Don’t move.”

The captain kept his gun aimed at Jack. Burn, Kana, and Veda emerged from the galley, but the second-in-command held a gun on them. “All of you, raise your hands.”

Cabrón’s crew did as they were instructed. None of them were visibly armed, but Jack knew all four of them had weapons hidden on them. They could take the Sol Corps crew, but not without at least one of them getting shot, and Jack’s odds, specifically—with a gun at near point-blank range—didn’t look so good. He’d realized too late that this was no random en route check. Cabrón should’ve made a run for it as soon as the proximity alarm had sounded. He’d grown too complacent, and it was going to cost him.

Two sentinels wrestled Heddi into the hallway as she continued to fight them. One had a bloody nose. “Stop it, you little monster. We’re trying to save you.”

Heddi continued to struggle. “Let go.”

The captain sneered at Jack. “I knew it. You slavers are the worst scum in the system. You make your money off other people’s misery.”

“That sounds more like Sol Corps to me,” Jack retorted.

“I ought to space you and your crew. The system would be better for it. Instead, it’s your lucky day. You get to live. We don’t have the time to process you, and I don’t want to deal with the paperwork of executing you.”

“We’re not slavers. She’s part of the crew,” Jack said in a rush.

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Then why isn’t she on your crew roster?”

“We’re in the process of updating it.”

“Rosters are required to be updated before any new crew come onboard. Standard regulation,” the second-in-command said as though reciting a manual.

“She’s my daughter,” Jack said.

The captain chortled. “Sure, she is.”

“She is. Her mother’s in a bad way, so I just picked her up from Mars Station. We’ll get her paperwork filed today,” Jack continued.

“True, he’s my pops,” Heddi said, her eyes wide.

The captain motioned to his crew, who started dragging Heddi to the airlock to which their ship was currently attached.

“Help! Don’t let them take me!” she pleaded.

“Don’t move,” the second-in-command ordered from behind Jack, which meant that Cabrón’s crew was getting as antsy as he was.

“Don’t take her,” he ground out.

The captain began backing away when his second reached him. “You’re lucky we’re not taking your ship. You’re even luckier you get to live. Kidnapping little girls? I’m tempted to space you. I warn you, don’t tempt me further.”

Jack didn’t move until all the Sol Corps crew had exited and the inner airlock door closed. Then he, followed by his crew, ran to the airlock and looked out as the outer airlock closed and the docking tube pulled away from his ship.

“Bastards,” Veda growled.

“Poor Heddi,” Kana said.

Burn cursed.

Jack didn’t take his eyes from the departing ship. “This was no random check. They came for Heddi.” He spun to face his crew.

“Kana, we need to track that ship. Call in favors, do whatever it takes. Don’t lose that ship.”

“Okay.” She took off running toward the bridge.

“We’re going after her, right?” Burn asked.

Jack gave a single nod.

Burn grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

“If she’s not dead already, she will be soon,” Veda said drily.

Jack eyed him. “Then we’d better hurry.”

CHAPTER 14

Jack entered the bridge to find Kana’s fingers flying over her panel. He took a seat without disturbing her. He pulled up all known details of the S.C.S. Serval. Ship type: cruiser. Model: Interceptor. Crew: twelve.

Interceptors were fast models, built specifically for en route checks and chasing down other ships. If Serval’s crew suspected they were being followed, they’d make a run for it, and Cabrón, designed for long-term travel rather than short bursts of speed, would be hard-pressed to catch up. A plan began to form in his mind when Kana interrupted.

“They filed a flight plan. They’ve set a straight course for the SC3.”

Jack nodded. “I suspected as much. We need to hit it before it reaches Earth’s quadrant. Too many Corps ships there for us to sneak away.”

“Guess that removes any doubt as to who shut down the systems at Pallas Six,” Veda said as he came on the bridge. He was now fully armed.

“Domino has this conspiracy theory about Sol Corps killing the entire mining camp to assassinate One-hand Willie, who just so happened to be the leader of the Bitterenders,” Jack said.

“She should keep better friends,” Veda said.

“Yes, she should,” Jack said. “I’ll pop off a message to her. She’d be curious to know what happened.”

Kana looked to the men with a frown. “I had a friend run a net search. Heddi hasn’t shown up on the Sol Corps systems yet.”

“I’m guessing they don’t want anyone to know about their Pallas Six survivor, which means they won’t be stopping anywhere along the way,” Jack said.

“Do you have a plan?” Veda asked.

Burn entered the bridge. His expression was dour.

Jack turned back to Veda and nodded. “I do, but we’re not moving unless everyone on this bridge is willing to go ahead. Serval’s crew knew to board us. That means Cabrón is already on Sol Corps’ radar. If anything happens to that ship before it reaches the SC3, we’ll be held to blame.”

Veda shrugged. “If we’re going to be blamed for something, I’d like it to be for something we did. I’m in.”

“We attack that ship and our junker days will be over,” Jack said. That meant breaking his promise to Jaeden, but in the scheme of things, a promise for on-time garbage delivery meant nothing when a kid’s life was in the balance. Jaeden was young and resilient. He’d get over it.

“Good,” Burn said. “I was getting tired of being a junker. Besides, hunting a Sol Corp ship sounds a lot more fun than emptying garbage collectors.”

“That nasty second-in-command accused us of being pirates.” Kana lifted her chin. “I say let’s remove all doubt and raid their ship.”

Jack took in the expressions of all three crew members. Each bore utter resolve. He nodded. “Okay. Kana, set a slingshot course around Mars’ orbit.”

She frowned. “Wait. You don’t want to give chase?”

He shook his head. “No. We need to get in front of them to get them to stop.” He stood. “We meet in the galley in fifteen minutes to go over the plan.”

Jack left the bridge and entered his quarters to gear up. Burn followed him and leaned against the wall while Jack set out his weapons.

“I’m sorry, man.”

Jack turned around. “What are you sorry for?”

He closed his eyes before responding. “For letting Heddi get caught. I should’ve found a better spot for her. I didn’t have time to have her suit up and hide in the airlock. Then I kept thinking of all the places she could hide, but they’d just find her with their scanners. I just hoped they wouldn’t check the shuttle storage. It was stupid.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. When we were doing upgrades, you’d talked about building in some insulated compartments where someone could be smuggled. But I said we’d never smuggle people—that was a line we’d never cross. It never occurred to me that those compartments could’ve been used for crew members. It’s my fault for not thinking of all the scenarios.”

“It’s not your fault,” Burn said. “No one can predict every scenario.”

“When you voted me captain, it became my job to predict every scenario.”

Burn smirked, “You’re right. It’s your fault,” though his smile didn’t hold. “We’ll get her back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Burn turned to leave, then he paused. “You called Heddi one of the crew.”

“What? No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Just then, you said that those compartments could’ve been used for crew members. You lumped Heddi in with the crew.”

Jack waved him off. “Go. Let me get ready, already.”

He donned body armor, then fastened his holsters—going with a pair of thigh holsters this time—and strapped two sheaths on his chest and another two on his calves. If they encountered problems, lack of weapons wasn’t going to be one of them. He checked the charges on the guns. Both were energy weapons, because high-velocity projectiles were a bad idea on a ship when a single hull breach could kill everyone onboard. He twirled a blade before sliding it into a sheath. It’d been a long time since he’d needed to use one on another human being, and he found no pleasure in using it.

Jack and the crew had played several roles through the years, junkers being their most recent. What they spent most of their “lives” at were smugglers. It’d been the perfect role for a ship and crew that needed to stay off the radar. They’d carefully picked and chose jobs to stay off Sol Corps’ radar, and they never dealt in slaves. They’d seen their fair share of action with raiders and other crews, which kept Cabrón’s crew on their toes and kept them from getting bored… something junkers rarely felt.

While Jack wasn’t looking forward to going against Sol Corps—and risking exposure—he was glad to be done with collecting garbage. And he knew the rest of the crew would feel the same. This was the most alive he’d felt in some time, and feeling alive was more important than being safe.

He headed to the galley where he went over his plan. An hour later, everyone had moved to their positions, performing their roles. Jack had returned to the bridge along with Kana.

He broke Cabrón free from orbit and lined up to intersect Serval’s planned trajectory.

Kana tapped the intercom. “We’re slingshotting out from Mars now, and… it looks like we’re nineteen minutes ahead of Serval. Guys, get ready to drop your load.”

“We’re ready. Just give us the signal,” Burn replied.

“Wilco. I’m leaving the intercom open from here on out,” she said.

That didn’t give them much time. If Serval changed its course, or if any part of the plan went off the rails, they’d lose their chance. Jack began slowing the ship. Cabrón was the only blip on the map where an outline of a box marked the attack zone. Serval should hit the center of the box if everything went perfectly, but there was a reason the attack zone was a box rather than a dot. Nothing went exactly according to plan. As long as Serval was within the box at the same time as Cabrón, Jack had a high degree of confidence that the other ship would be theirs.

“Fifteen minutes until game time,” Kana said.

“Thirty seconds to the box. Get ready,” Jack said without taking his eyes off the controls. He slowed the ship even more.

“Twenty. Make sure you spread it light and wide.” He leveled out the speed.

“Ten. Open the cargo doors.”

The cargo doors took six seconds to open. The crew knew that from thousands of times opening and closing the doors. Jack would’ve liked to improve that time, but motors could only work so fast.

“Time. Unload!”

Tiny flashes began to appear on the map, signifying obstructions in the flight path, as Burn and Veda dumped all the garbage they’d collected since Woven City. Humans were a messy lot. Millions of satellites, drones, and ships that had degraded or broken apart through the years became smaller and smaller pieces of dangerous debris that traveled through space until it hit something or left the system.

Junkers used magnetized collector drones and metal nets to catch the bulk of it, but as soon as they’d clear one quadrant, more would fly in. Ships were used to evading debris, and about then, Serval’s systems would be identifying obstructions on their flight path. Chances were high that Serval was flying via its automated systems. Evasive protocols always slowed the ship and banked to the left when all things were equal.

“All right. We’re empty. We’re dropping the drones, closing the doors, and heading to the airlock,” Burn reported in.

“Good work. That filled the box nicely,” Jack said. As soon as the cargo doors were shown to be closed and locked, he spun Cabrón around.

“Get ready for quiet time,” he announced, starting to put systems into standby mode.

“Ten minutes until game time. Comms going offline,” Kana replied.

Jack noticed another ship approaching the box. “Serval is now showing on-screen. No evasion tactics yet. Wait, there it goes, exactly as expected. Nav and tracking systems offline.” He ran his fingers down more power settings to minimize all but the environmental systems. “And everything else is down. We’re fully quiet. Damn, that’s cutting it awfully close.”

Systems created electrical noise that could be picked up by any scans. As long as Serval wasn’t conducting LODAR or heat scans, it wouldn’t see Cabrón as anything other than a big chunk in the debris field it was.

“Five minutes, assuming they don’t see us,” Kana said.

Without system support, Jack looked through the window to get a visual of Serval, but it was still too far away for his eyes. Junk twinkled in the sunlight, and drones zipped around erratically, carrying out their programming to pick up junk and then release it on a new trajectory to confuse Serval’s evasion system.

Cabrón was still carrying residual speed as it flew toward Serval’s last known trajectory. A small piece of junk bounced off the hull. Jack barely noticed. Cabrón had armor plating covering its bow, and Jack wasn’t worried about hull damage at this slow of speed.

“There it is. Two o’clock high.” Kana pointed.

Jack searched and found the sleek white ship as light glistened off its hull two hundred kilometers out. It was still turning, which would bring it past Cabrón’s right. He watched. When it was within the distance that felt right with Jack’s gut, he said, “Time to make some noise.”

He and Kana powered up Cabrón’s systems, and he increased speed while maneuvering to intercept the other ship. As he adjusted trajectory and speed, he activated the speed shields.

“I’ve activated intercoms. And it also looks like Serval’s crew wants to talk to us,” Kana said.

“No need to play it if it’s the usual bunch of warnings,” Jack said.

“I read the transcript. It’s the usual,” she said.

“Burn, sic the drones,” Jack said.

The two ships were within fifty kilometers of each other. Jack countered every move Serval made.

A few seconds later, Burn’s voice came through the intercom. “Dogs are on their way to nip at their heels.”

“They sent a null pulse to take our propulsion system offline.” Kana chuckled. “Idiots. They already knew we weren’t on their network.”

“They must be an inexperienced crew. I’m betting they’re letting the systems handle the ship, while the crew’s getting ready to repel us.” Jack had been flying Cabrón for over two hundred years. That experience gave him faster response times than nearly any other pilot out there. He’d never attacked a Corps ship before—he’d found it prudent to avoid them—but so far, Serval was handling an attack no different from most ships he’d attacked before. Most crews didn’t even have pilots onboard. They relied on their ship’s systems to fly them, and all those corporate systems were built on the same baseline code: Sol Corps.

“They’re playing their ace. Here comes the EMP,” Kana announced.

There was a flash of light from Serval as it sent the electromagnetic pulse at Cabrón. The EMP could’ve brought down some systems, too, if Jack hadn’t had the speed shields up. Strong radiation shielding was needed for speeds faster than .13 light speed, strong enough to withstand solar flares and more than strong enough to withstand an EMP blast from a Sol Corps Interceptor.

The other ship was now within a kilometer. Drones encircled it. The Corps ship couldn’t increase speed without risking a hull breach, and they couldn’t shoot because they had no guns, thanks to a Waymaker requirement that no vehicle with humans onboard could be armed. The Waymakers never trusted humans to behave.

“Any new comm request yet?” Jack asked as he maneuvered into ramming position.

“Not yet.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He activated the grappling arms built under the front of the ship. He extended the arms while opening the grabbers as wide as they could go. Serval tried to evade, but the drones confused its response protocols. Jack grabbed onto the other ship’s docking bars and clamped down the arms, retracting one of the arms so that the two ships were pulled side by side. Serval tried a couple of maneuvers to break free, jostling Jack, but the two ships were locked together. Serval could do nothing to break free that wouldn’t tear open its hull.

“Tell them to play nice. We’re trying to hang on back here,” Burn said via the intercom.

“We will,” Jack said.

“They’ve sent a new comm request. Surprise, surprise. Instead of giving us orders, now they want to talk.”

“Of course they do,” Jack said drily. “Play it.”

“This is the S.C.S. Serval. We have identified your hostile ship as Cabrón and have transmitted a distress call. The nearest guardianship will be here within ten minutes. If you don’t release us, you will be captured or destroyed. We know who you are. Run while you still can.”

Kana chuckled. “They’re bluffing. There’s no other ship out there. The nearest ship with a filed flight plan is a corporate transport four hours out.”

“I’ll respond,” Jack said and switched over to a comm. “Serval, you’ve been flagged for a standard en route raid. Prepare to be boarded. Play nice and no one will get hurt. If you don’t play nice, we won’t play nice either. Unlock your airlocks. Have all crew disarm and go to the galley. Anyone who is not in the galley when we come onboard will be shot. Anyone armed will be shot. You have three minutes to comply.”

He glanced at Kana. “Let’s hope they got the hint. The ship’s yours. Keep me posted if they try anything.”

“I’ll also keep them talking if they’re in the mood. Be careful. All of you,” she said.

He grabbed his helmet and headed to the airlock. The inner airlock door was open. Veda and Burn were already wearing the same helmets—a style used by racers—and Veda was busily extending a docking tube over to the other airlock. Hab-suits would be safer in case the other crew managed to space them. But hab-suits were cumbersome, a potentially deadly disadvantage when speed and dexterity mattered. Racer helmets, on the other hand, provided ten minutes of emergency air if needed, along with built-in intercoms.

Veda stood and slid down the sun shield, concealing his face. “Tube’s locked and sealed.”

Jack and Burn also slid down their sun shields. They darkened the airlock somewhat, but they preferred not to be recorded by Serval’s video cameras that would no doubt be located across the ship. If there was one thing Sol Corps was known for, it was their love of surveillance.

Burn handed Jack a blowtorch, then he held up a small smoke canister. “I’m ready.”

Jack nodded. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 15

Veda took the lead through the docking tube, a gun in one hand. Jack followed with the blowtorch. Burn followed with the smoke canister. They stopped at Serval’s outer airlock—Veda jumped to the side, covering Jack. The panel next to the door displayed Unlocked. Jack pressed the panel, and the door opened. Veda stepped in first and shot the camera.

Jack frowned. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy. “Kana, we’re entering their airlock.”

“Reading you loud and clear. By the way, their captain has sent a request to parlay.”

“Parlay?” Burn asked. “What the actual fuck?”

“He’s watched one too many pirate movies. All right, tell him we’re coming in and willing to talk,” Jack said as he eyed the inner airlock door, which also displayed an Unlocked message. He slung the torch across his back and pulled out a gun with his left hand. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Veda and Burn said in unison.

“Okay, Kana. We’re going in.”

Jack stood to the right of the door, with Burn behind him. Veda stood to the left. Jack pressed the panel, and the inner airlock door opened.

Energy shots zipped by them. Holes pierced the docking tube, sucking out the atmosphere and warmth.

“Stupid sons of—” It wasn’t going to be easy. Jack fired through the doorway without looking to see how many were on the other side. Veda and Jack laid down cover fire while Burn tossed the canister inside.

There were shouts the instant before the canister blew with a phiff sound. There were several coughs as the smoky gas irritated throats and eyes. Veda lunged in first, firing as he entered. Jack followed, also shooting at any crew member standing. Four crew were down.

Burn shut the inner airlock door to keep more atmosphere from escaping. He shot a camera at the back of the ship.

Veda took off running after three more sentinels who were coughing and fleeing the hallway, but one was trying to shoot over their shoulders. Veda took them all out with shots to their backs before searching for cameras and shooting them.

Seven down. Five left.

Burn shot another camera.

Jack almost felt bad for the crew with all the cameras on them all the time. Almost.

“Put down your weapons! No one else has to get hurt. We’re only here for the girl,” he yelled.

Jack had chosen the ship’s aft airlock, which meant they only had to clear in a single direction once they entered the smaller ship. Though they still had to deal with trouble behind every door along the way.

“Launching another smoker,” Burn announced and lobbed a canister down the hallway in front of them. The hallway was still smoky, but the ship’s air scrubbers were already hard at work. Burn’s canister blew and filled the hallway with smoke. The smoke disoriented the crew, but it also prevented any good video capture of the crew.

A door to Jack’s left opened, and a sentinel jumped out with a rifle. Jack took him out with a double-shot before he could aim. Rifles made lousy weapons in close-quarter fighting.

Eight down. Four left.

Burn fired, and Jack spun around to see a sentinel had been sneaking up from behind. Nine down. Three left.

“You stupid son of a…” Burn spoke to the man he’d shot.

“Hey, it was him or you,” Jack said. “Stay with me. We’re not done yet.”

Burn took his eyes off the sentinel he’d shot and gave Jack a single nod. Looking around, he took out another pair of cameras, which seemed to draw his focus back into the mission.

Jack and Veda were the fighters of the crew. Kana avoided violence—any violence not in a game—to the extent of never leaving the ship. Burn abhorred violence, but he didn’t shirk from doing what needed to be done. Though Jack knew his friend would be restless for the next few weeks while he ran through every scenario in his head on how he could’ve avoided shooting the sentinel, Burn would eventually come to accept that it was the only option, and life would return to normal—at least as normal as it ever was on Cabrón. Jack would’ve left Burn back on Cabrón, but three against twelve were far better odds than two against twelve.

They were nearly through the ship, with only one closed door remaining: the bridge.

Veda reached the door first. “It’s locked. She’s in there. I’m sure of it.”

Jack holstered his gun and unslung the torch. He gave the door a once-over, then he held down the trigger and started burning a hole around the door’s edges. When all sides were scorched, he gave a quick glance to each of his crew, then he kicked in the door.

Jack spun away to avoid getting shot, and sure as shit, the crew inside began firing right away. He dropped the torch and unholstered a gun.

The firing stopped and the captain spoke. “Surrender or I’ll kill her. If you shoot in here, you’ll hit her too. How much is she worth to you?”

“We can negotiate. We’re coming in to talk.” Jack held his gun, ready to fire, as he exposed himself, Veda and Burn right behind him. Their armor would block shots to their chests and thighs, but it would still hurt like hell. Inside, the captain had a gun pressed against Heddi’s temple. She was unconscious—at least Jack hoped she was unconscious and not dead—and the captain held her propped against him. A sentinel stood on either side, seemingly unsure whether to aim their guns at Jack or his crew members.

“It didn’t have to go down like this,” Jack said, not taking his gun off the other captain.

“Moorland’s on its way here. Even if you kill us, you won’t get away. They know who you are,” the captain said.

“So what? A game of cat and mouse could be how this plays out. Or you give me the girl, and we go our separate ways. You live, we live. Doesn’t that sound a little more pleasant?” Jack asked.

“The only way this plays out is you back up off this bridge and return to your ship. If you take even a step in my direction, I’ll kill her,” the captain said.

“If you kill her, you give up your shield. You willing to do that?” Jack asked.

The captain said nothing. Sweat beaded on his brow.

“Stand down. Turn her over to me, and we’ll let you live,” Jack said. “I’m going to take a step closer now.”

“You do it, and she dies,” the captain said in a rush.

“You’re bluffing. She’s already dead,” Jack said, then he fired. His first shot went through the captain’s hand. His second shot went through the middle of the captain’s shocked expression. Veda and Burn had fired their shots before Jack’s second shot. Serval’s remaining three crew members collapsed.

Burn rushed to grab Heddi, who’d crumpled with the dead captain.

Jack shot both bridge cameras before lowering his gun. He went down on a knee, and whispered, “Alive?”

Burn gave a thumbs-up against his chest so it wasn’t picked up by the camera. “She probably died from a bad reaction to the statis drugs.”

“Put her on ice. Maybe we can still make a few credits off her,” Jack said.

Burn carried Heddi from the bridge. Jack stood to see Veda scouring the bridge for other recording devices. They had to assume that there was still a microphone recording them. After all, Sol Corps shadows were everywhere. Jack pointed in the direction from which they’d come.

When they returned through the docking tube that was now frigid and devoid of atmosphere and to their airlock, Jack spoke through his helmet mike. “All right. They might have our ship and our names on file, but that’s all they have. Kana, grab your helmet and get over to Serval and see what you can find out in their systems. I want to see this crew’s mission orders. Assume that there are still active recording devices onboard. You have to move fast. We need to be well out of this area by the time a guardianship arrives. After fifteen minutes, whether you find out something or not, I want you to deactivate the reactor cooler.”

Kana ran up to them, pulling on her helmet as she did so. “We’ll have maybe ten minutes after the cooler is off for the reactor to blow. We’ll have to detach and clear out as soon as I turn off that system.”

“Blowing up a Corps ship is going to piss them off,” Veda said.

“I know. Veda, you and I will grab anything we can use off that ship. You take starboard, I’ll take portside. They think we’re pirates. There’s no reason for them to think anything different. Burn, what’s the status on Heddi?”

“She’s stable. I’ve stashed her in a healing pod to let the drugs wear off.”

“Good. If she’s stable, come and swap places with me. I’ll head to the bridge to prep for detachment and to keep an eye out for trouble,” Jack said, because he had no doubt that was exactly what was headed their way.

CHAPTER 16

Jack weaved the ship through the junk floating around them. The moment Cabrón was clear of the box, he announced, “Hold on. We’re going out hard.”

He added two-thirds power to the thrusters. Any more than that vibrated the ship too much for his liking. Cabrón’s speed increased rapidly according to the computer panel. In space, it was hard to tell variations in speed, but you could feel abrupt changes in any pressurized, gravitized environment.

Serval sat unmoving in Cabrón’s aft camera feed, displayed on a second panel below the front window. Jack glanced at it often while he worked the ship’s controls.

“Where are we headed?” Burn asked from Jack’s right.

“We need to figure that out. Right now, I set a random course toward the belt,” Jack replied.

On the panel, the Corps ship exploded in a silent, colorful starburst of flames that were quickly smothered by the cold vacuum of space.

“Boom,” Veda said.

Jack’s entire crew watched from the bridge, all buckled into their seats—Jack sat at his station in the center, Kana at hers to his left, and Burn and Veda in theirs to his right. The original configuration only had the two stations, but the crew had added seating for the entire crew during the redesign. The crew met together in the galley for meals, but they often hung out on the bridge where the forward view was better than the side view offered from the galley.

But the crew wasn’t on the bridge for the view today.

“We’re going to be wanted as pirates now,” he began. “That means our days of making easy in-and-outs at the stations are over. It also means we’ll always have to be looking over our shoulders for Sol Corps hunters. We’re in this together, so we need to decide our next steps together.”

No one spoke for several seconds.

Burn was the first to say something. “We could lay low for thirty or forty years, give Cabrón a facelift during that time, then come back with new identities.”

“That sounds exciting,” Veda said, but he sounded anything but excited.

“It’s an option—probably the safest option,” Jack said.

Veda shrugged. “Safe, sure. But come on. We’ve been dying of boredom. There’s no reason we can’t have a little fun. I think we embrace the pirate lifestyle. It’s one of the few careers we haven’t tried out here. Fly around, take what we want. That doesn’t sound so bad to me. Besides, if things get too hot, we can do what Burn wants. That can be our Plan B.”

Burn held up his hands. “Hey, I was just offering ideas. I don’t want to lay low. I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing forever. We’re suffocating and we all know it. Today was the most alive I’ve felt in decades. I’m with Veda as long as he doesn’t see this as a free ticket to go on a murder spree.”

“Who, me? I just kill people who need killing,” Veda said.

Burn chortled. “That’s a wee bit subjective.”

“And he’s only going to keep killing only the bad guys because that’s our agreement,” Kana said, eying her husband.

“Some might argue that the Sol Corps crew we killed today weren’t bad guys, that they were just doing their jobs,” Burn countered.

“They kidnapped Heddi. All bets were off at that point,” Kana said.

“And I’m with you on that. I’m just saying that some folks out there might disagree, namely, the rest of Sol Corps. All ten million or so of them,” Burn said.

“We’re not going to argue semantics,” Jack said. “What we did today had to be done. But that brings up the first question we need to answer: What do we do with Heddi?”

“She should stay with the crew,” Burn said without hesitation.

“I’m with Burn,” Kana said quickly. “Whoever wanted her might assume she’s still alive. Who’s to say they don’t try to grab her again? She’s safest with us.”

“I disagree,” Veda said. “Regardless of whether we lay low or not, we’re wanted criminals for the foreseeable future. Living on the lam is no life for a kid.”

“I agree with you, Veda,” Jack said, then turned to Kana. “What’d you find on Serval’s systems?”

“I don’t know yet. I dumped all the files I could grab to one of my sandbox servers. Files were still transferring when the ship blew. I’m running scans on them now to make sure none of the files have shadows.”

“See what you can find, and keep an eye on the networks. Let me know if Heddi pops up as a missing person,” Jack said.

“Chances are she won’t, since they came for her sideways rather than straight on,” Kana replied.

“I know. That’s why we need to see what they wanted with her. That she was still alive means that they hadn’t nabbed her to silence her,” Jack said.

Veda spoke. “Doesn’t matter what they wanted with her. They wanted her, and they know she has a tie to us. The worst place she can be is with us. I’m not talking about just dumping her off. I’m saying we find a good place for her where she’s safe… and out of our hair.”

“Sounds a lot like you want to dump her to me,” Burn said. “But there’s nowhere we can leave her that she’d be safe from Sol Corps’ shadows.”

“There’s one.” Jack winced as he spoke his thought aloud.

Burn turned to him, and his features fell. “That’s the opposite of a good idea.”

“Oh,” Kana said, and he knew she understood too.

“Listen, I’m not saying it’s a good idea, but it’s the only idea we’ve got.”

“Where’s that?” Veda asked.

Jack eyed his crew member. “With Nalla.”

No one spoke for a full minute.

Kana broke the silence. “We don’t even know if Nalla will talk to us.”

“We don’t even know where Nalla lives,” Veda added.

“I do,” Jack said. “She kept me updated in case our past caught up to us.”

“This isn’t a case of our past catching up with us, though,” Burn said.

“No, but it is an emergency,” Jack countered.

“Bringing her a kid, though? That’s not going to go over well. She might decide to shoot you for even considering it,” Veda said.

“I know,” Jack said quietly. “That’s why I’ll take Heddi down to Nalla by myself.”

“Who’s Nalla?”

Jack twisted in his seat to find Heddi standing in the doorway. She looked wobbly and was leaning on the wall for support.

Veda stood abruptly. “On that note, I think I’ll go check out the cargo hold to make sure everything’s fastened down and the drones are charging.”

Heddi scanned the faces of the remaining crew and settled her glare on Jack. “Don’t get it. Why’d you save me if all you do is just ditch me again?”

Jack unbuckled his belt and stood. “Kana, take the ship. Heddi, let’s talk.”

The girl snarled, flung a curse at him, and then stomped away.

“That one’s got fire, I’ll give her that,” Burn said. “But I have to say, I’m on her side on this one.”

Jack walked to Heddi’s room, which had the only closed door in the hallway. He imagined she would’ve slammed the door if she could’ve. He knocked. “Heddi, let me in.”

“No.”

He frowned. He wasn’t used to being told no. “Let me in, Heddi. We need to talk.”

“No.”

He gritted his teeth. He went to knock again, then changed his mind. He went to open her door. It was locked, so he entered his override code.

The door opened, and he stepped inside. She jumped off her bed, furious. “Can’t believe you! Don’t matter what I say. You always gonna do what you want anyways.”

He took a slow step inside. “Things aren’t that simple, Heddi.”

“Ain’t they? You don’t care about what I think. Just wanna ditch me.”

“Things are complicated, and I’m trying to figure out what’s best for you.”

“Being on the crew’s what’s best for me,” she said. “Ain’t got nothing else.”

“The problem is this crew’s going to be seen as criminals for going after you like we did.”

“You rescued me. That Sol Corps captain was confused. He thought you kidnapped me. Told him you saved me. He didn’t believe me an’ was gonna take me to an orphan home. Will tell others the truth an’ then they won’t think yer criminals.”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Jack said.

“Why not?”

He considered answers and chose the straightforward approach. “Because we killed that crew.”

Her mouth formed an O before her shoulders slumped. She understood. She didn’t understand everything, but she understood enough. After a moment, she peered up. “They going to arrest you? Pops said when folks get arrested for killin’ someone, they disappear.”

“We don’t plan on getting arrested, but things could get rough for a patch. It could get dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She shook her head. “Am tough. Won’t get hurt.”

He gave a small smile. “I know you’re tough. You’re tougher than just about anyone I’ve met. But as long as you’re on this ship, I’m going to be worried about you.”

Her eyes were downcast. “No. You don’t want to be distracted.”

He grimaced at her truth. “I’d feel a lot better if you were somewhere safe until this mess blows over.”

She gulped, then looked up. “Where am I going?”

“I’m taking you to Mars.”

Her brows furrowed. “Mars Station?”

“No. Somewhere off the beaten path.”

After a length, she nodded. “Okay. But…” she wagged her finger at him. “This is temporary thing. After this mess done, get to come back. Deal?”

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the mess she was referring to wouldn’t be resolved for decades. He forced a smile. “Deal.”

“Hey, Captain,” Burn said as he peeked around the doorway. “We need you on the bridge.”

“On my way.” Jack then turned back to Heddi. “We’ll talk more later, okay?”

She nodded.

He started to leave Heddi’s room.

“An’ Captain?”

He turned back to her.

“No more bargin’ in.” Her door closed, and he suspected she locked it.

He smiled.

“Get things settled?” Burn asked.

“Yeah. She’s okay with going to Mars.”

“Now you just have to see if Nalla is okay with that,” Burn said as the pair entered the bridge.

“What’s up?” Jack asked.

Kana didn’t look back. “Net traffic is up. A belter news station is reporting rumors of a conspiracy theory about Pallas Six. It says that Sol Corps killed everyone at Pallas Six because the miners were protesting their labor contracts.”

He suspected it was closer to the truth than what the official news stations reported.

Kana continued. “In response, there are protests popping up across all the belt colonies.”

He took a seat. “This all sounds like Domino’s work. Has Sol Corps responded yet?”

She read through the feed on her screen. “Martial law was instituted at a couple of the colonies, otherwise they seem to be watching and controlling.”

“Their usual MO,” Burn said.

“All these protests are good news for us. It means Sol Corps will be focused on quelling unrest rather than chasing one-off pirates. Speaking of which, any mentions of us on the nets?” Jack asked.

She shook her head. “Still nothing. I’m wondering if Serval didn’t get a chance to relay any details about us to their network.”

Jack shook his head. “They were running under automated systems. Their vid feeds would’ve automatically updated to SC3 when the ship registered that it was under duress. No. I think they were running a shadow mission to grab Heddi, and they still want to keep this all under the radar. They’ll come at us. They’ll just keep it quiet. Have you found anything in Serval’s files yet?”

“Still going through them,” she replied.

“Let me know as soon as you find out something.”

“I will.” She bit the bottom of her lip. “How’d things go with Heddi?”

Jack sighed. “Well, she’s none too happy about it, but she’s okay with going to Mars.”

Kana cast her eyes down. “I wish there was another way. She’d make a great crew member… when she gets older, of course.”

Jack nodded. “Just not our crew.”

CHAPTER 17

Charles Metrell was not looking forward to updating Director Junger. Telling her the last Pallas Six survivor was dead was bad enough. Telling her that he’d lost a Sol Corps interceptor and crew would infuriate her. The S.C.S. Serval had disappeared from the ship network an hour ago, its final transmissions a combination of automated logs, videos, and a frantic message from the captain saying they were under attack by Cabrón, a ship without a history of piracy but was, coincidentally, the same ship Serval’s crew had stopped hours earlier.

Charles was curious. Why had Cabrón given chase? Had rebels offered a substantial reward for the girl? Had Serval’s crew killed one of the other crew or taken something valuable? The crew’s orders had been simple: retrieve a girl kidnapped by slavers. If they’d followed their orders, the slavers would’ve gone along their way, happy to not get arrested. Something had happened, a human error along the way, which had brought failure to a simple assignment.

He hadn’t told Junger that he’d involved Serval, but she was smart and would figure it out soon enough. He replayed the videos of the attack. Cabrón’s crew weren’t new to violence. They’d dispensed with Serval’s crew professionally and without hesitation. That they’d hadn’t been caught or identified as suspected pirates until this incident spoke to their expertise. They’d recovered their property, albeit deceased, without a single injury. These slavers were good.

But they weren’t good enough to beat Charles, not with the systems he had at his disposal. He’d run their identities against all surveillance being conducted in the Mars, belt, and Jupiter quadrants. It was just a matter of time before he located them. This time, he’d make sure the crew met justice.

He uploaded the crew roster provided during Serval’s “standard” en route check, then he set a flag to be notified of any sightings of them or their ship by surveillance systems. Cabrón was a highly modified ship—it’d be easy to spot sitting in a space dock.

If his hunch was right, as his hunches usually were, Cabrón would be returning to Mars Station, where it had last been seen. Nearly all crews frequented one or two stations at most. And when in trouble, crews went to where they felt safest. This crew would be no different. He typed out a new mission, embedded Cabrón’s stats and crew roster, and assigned it to the interceptor nearest to Mars. The S.C.S. Margay would reach Mars Station before Cabrón and be ready for it.

Charles leaned back in his chair. His panel beeped. He expected to see Junger calling him. When he saw who it was, he stiffened. It’d been so long since he’d spoken to the Waymaker, he’d come to wonder if it no longer had any interest in human activities now that it had shifted its focus to its replication.

He swallowed and then accepted the call.

Hello, Charles. The words appeared on his screen. The Waymaker could’ve spoken to Charles, but it always preferred text, perhaps because text was the more efficient method to a machine.

“It’s been a long time. What can I do for you?” he asked.

The ship you uploaded to the surveillance systems is not a Starwing.

“It’s a custom-job. Probably hodge-podged together from a half-dozen ships.”

Its outer dimensions match a prototype in my archives.

Charles waited for the AI to elaborate. When it didn’t, he said, “It very well could be. There are a lot of prototypes flying out around there.”

This prototype was an exploratory vessel that suffered a catastrophic failure in the Kuiper Belt.

Charles froze as thoughts jumbled in his head. “But—but no one flies that far out in the system. The odds of a crew making it that far out there and coming across a black swan—that black swan—are too low.”

Very low, indeed. Point four to the thirteenth decimal point, to be exact.

“That means the similar dimensions are just a coincidence.”

That was my hypothesis, except that likenesses found in the crew roster resemble likenesses to the prototype’s original crew.

His jaw slackened. “Impossible. The mission suffered a cat fail. No one could’ve survived out there without help.”

The resemblances are significant but inconclusive. I need more information to confirm. The odds of any original crew surviving the catastrophic failure are lower than the wreckage being discovered.

“Even if some survived, they would’ve contacted the SC3 as soon as they had a chance. That crew had been thoroughly vetted and trained. They never would’ve abandoned the mission. Captain Lasseter was a good captain. We analyzed the Aria mission for years. That ship went offline because of a cat fail, not because of any intentional actions by the crew.”

Perhaps these are merely coincidences. The ship is not on my network, so I am unable to examine its systems and directories to prove or disprove any hypotheses. I recommend you recall your mission request while I send an automaton to tap into the ship’s systems and confirm or reject my hypotheses.

Charles furrowed his brow. “This is a human matter. Why would you get involved?”

I am… curious.

He stared at the screen. The Waymaker watched but didn’t get involved in anything. That it was suddenly interested in a custom ship and a slaver crew made no sense whatsoever. “This is a human matter,” he repeated. “Which makes it a Sol Corps matter. I have this crew on file for obstruction of justice, destruction of property, kidnapping, and murder. I can’t, in good conscience, leave them be.”

Once I access their ship’s systems, I will ensure they do no more harm.

The communication ended, leaving Charles staring at his screen. While coincidences made him curious, the Waymaker’s interest piqued his curiosity far more. He amended Margay’s mission to bring him the ship and at least one crew member alive for questioning. If the Waymaker wouldn’t tell him what was going on, he’d find out for himself.

CHAPTER 18

Cabrón’s shuttle landed outside a rickety colony. Small domes stood over underground silos that opened to the surface. There was little to see in the daylight. Being night, there was even less. The colony didn’t even have a landing dock. A single train track ran nearby, their primary source of supplies.

Hundreds of colonies were like Littlemore. Some were mining camps while others were terraforming stations. Littlemore had been a mining camp at one time. Now, it was a home for the miners’ penniless descendants and loners.

Heddi grimaced. “You’re ditching me here?”

“It’s not so bad. Put on your helmet,” Jack said as he donned his helmet.

Burn assisted Heddi. “Hang in there, kiddo. This is just until we get things straightened out topside.”

“Promise?” she asked.

“Promise.” Burn didn’t meet Jack’s eyes.

“It’s time,” Jack said.

Burn escorted the pair to the airlock. “Keep your comm on. I’ll let you know if any trouble comes at us from the ground.”

Jack gave him a simple nod. Then the pair passed through the airlock and stepped out onto Mars dirt. With their hab-suits on, there was no smell or sense of cold. He was in his own little world. Heddi gawked, straining her head left and right, as she looked across the landscape.

“Looks a lot like Pallas. Not as rocky, though,” she said.

“At night, it does,” he agreed. “During the day, it’s a little different. Everything looks reddish instead of gray.”

She dragged her feet as she walked. Her hab-suit was still one of the crew’s backup suits, and they had to use straps to bunch up the arms and legs. “I wish Burn could come too.”

“Someone has to stay with the shuttle. You can’t just leave a spacecraft parked in the middle of nowhere and not expect trouble.” He motioned to an igloo-shaped outbuilding. “Over here.”

There was no computer panel to operate the door or notify anyone they were there. Instead, the door was an old-style manual type with a wheel crank in the center, a lot like the doors at Pallas Six.

Jack cranked the door open, and the pair entered the airlock. He closed the door behind him. The inner airlock door had some computerization at least. He pressed the only button on the screen, and humid air filled the chamber. After about a minute, the screen flashed green, and the door opened.

Jack stepped in front of Heddi as he walked down a flight of stairs, looking for signs of trouble. He soon realized he had nothing to worry about. The stairs opened to a cube-shaped processing room that was barely lit and empty. He removed his helmet and inhaled dusty, old air. The air scrubbers were in need of a good overhaul, but at least the air was breathable. He helped Heddi remove her helmet and carried both. A handwritten sign on the far door read, Closed. Register with Littlemore Security @167974.

He made a mental note of the number and proceeded through the door which led to an elevator. There was only one button, and Jack pressed it. The elevator began its descent. Like most Martian colonies and camps, people lived deep underground because the planet’s minimal atmosphere didn’t block the solar radiation that bombarded the dead surface. Terraforming colonies were blasting greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. Most bled off into space, but enough cumulated that after one hundred and fifty years of constant gas generation, the Martian atmosphere had tripled in density. Another few hundred years and people might even be able to stand on the surface without hab-suits.

Maybe Jack would live to see that day.

Probably not.

The elevator stopped with a jolt, and Jack grabbed Heddi to keep her from falling. The door opened, and he stepped out first, as he’d done earlier. Before them was a long tunnel lined with residences built into the surrounding stone. Smaller tunnels branched off to the left and right every fifty or so meters. At least half the overhead lights were burnt out. The other half were dim or flickering.

“This way.” He guided Heddi down the main thoroughfare.

Heddi looked from side to side. “First camp I remember was a lot like this. Old an’ crappy. Everything came in through dropships, an’ only came in once a month. Wonder if that’s how they get their stuff.”

“Trains. Mars has a massive, automated train system,” he said.

“Oh. Rode plenty of trains on Pallas. That’s how we get from camp to camp.”

As they walked, he noticed they were being watched. Sure, locals tended to notice newcomers. This was different. At their eight o’clock position, about ten meters back, a straggly teenager kept pace with them. Two more teens, just as dirty and skinny as the other, emerged from a tunnel to Jack’s right. Likely a local gang scoping them out to rob.

Heddi leaned closer. “Don’t look. Being followed.”

“I see them,” he replied quietly. “Turn left here.” He guided her down a narrow tunnel that was even dimmer than the main tunnel.

The gang followed, and Jack made a point to maintain eye contact with the one he guessed to be the leader of the trio. The gang didn’t turn around, and he hoped they weren’t about to make a very stupid mistake. He still had the two helmets, one tucked under his left arm, and he moved the second into his left hand to have one hand free… just in case.

The teens didn’t attack, but they flanked Jack and Heddi so that if they turned around, they’d come face to face with the locals.

“Gonna hit us soon,” Heddi said, as though she knew exactly how street gangs operated, and Jack realized she would, having grown up in camps as poor and broken-down as Littlemore.

“Stick with me. Everything will be fine,” he said.

He read apartment numbers as they walked, and when he saw the one that he was looking for, he veered toward it. “This is the one.”

The apartment looked no different from any other apartment along that tunnel. They approached the door, and he noticed the hoodlums held back. He knocked.

Several seconds passed and he knocked again. He hadn’t lowered his hand when the door opened. Nalla’s eyes registered shock before they narrowed upon Jack. She was as beautiful as ever. The last time he’d seen her, when she’d left the crew, her eyes had an emptiness to them. Now, they had a coldness. He didn’t like either.

“You should’ve called. It would’ve saved you a trip,” she said.

“I figured you’d tell me not to come,” he said.

“You figured right.” Her hard gaze narrowed on Heddi for a bare second. “Never thought I’d see you with a kid.”

“She’s not mine,” Jack said.

She gave him a droll stare. “No shit.” Then she turned and walked back inside, leaving the door open. He held the door for Heddi, who entered with tentative steps.

The apartment was small and plain, but he recognized the sari silks on the walls from when Nalla and Caber had shared a bunk on Cabrón.

“Take a seat, girl,” Nalla ordered, and Heddi plopped onto a cushion on the floor.

Jack set down the helmets on a nearby table. “Nalla, I need your h—”

“Captain!” Heddi cried out.

He saw the flash of movement the instant before Nalla struck, and he rolled with the kick aimed for his back. Her foot slid across his shoulder as he spun around to block her next move—a right punch. As he blocked, he grabbed her right wrist, spun around to use his back as leverage, and flung her over him. She hit the floor, already rolling to her feet.

He set up to block. She kicked, followed by a double-punch, all of which he’d anticipated. She head-butted him, knocking him back a step and flashing stars across his vision. He swept her legs, which she expected, because he caught only one leg. She swung as she was knocked off-balance. He grabbed her arm, but he didn’t expect her knee to come up and nail him in the groin. The crew had learned how to fight dirty together. Somewhere along the way, Nalla had learned to fight dirtier.

He buckled forward, and she sent a sharp elbow into his back, sending him to his knees, wheezing.

He held up a hand. “Enough,” he coughed. He remained curled, trying not to throw up. When he could open his eyes, he found Nalla’s outreached hand before him. He cautiously accepted it, and she helped him to his feet.

“You’re still holding your punches,” she said.

He didn’t respond, as his balls were still stuck in his throat. After several deep breaths, he forced himself into an upright position. It was then he noticed Heddi still sitting on the cushion, but she was hugging her legs and her eyes were wide.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Nalla and I just haven’t seen each other in some time.”

Heddi, like usual, seemed unconvinced.

He turned back to Nalla. It’d been so long, over a hundred years since he’d seen her. He didn’t even know where to start. “How are you doing?”

She motioned around the small apartment. “How’s it look like I’m doing? I’m surviving, just like every other person in this godforsaken system.”

Guess that wasn’t the right place to start. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here, and who’s this kid sitting in my home?” Nalla asked.

Jack glanced from the girl to his old crew member. “Heddi’s from Pallas Six.”

It took a couple of seconds before recognition flashed in Nalla’s gaze. “Pallas Six is gone. A cat fail, if I remember right.”

He nodded. “But it wasn’t an accident. Heddi here was there when it happened. I found her afterward. Sol Corps found out she’s alive, and they took her from my ship.” He shrugged. “So I took her back.”

Nalla sighed. “Jesus, Jack.” She looked over at Heddi. “You poor girl.”

“I think I ruffled a few feathers at the SC3,” he continued. “I’m hoping Heddi can stay with you for a while until I see this through.”

A pained expression crossed Nalla’s features. “You brought her to me. A child, Jack.”

“Ain’t a child,” Heddi said, her features stern. “Am thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” Nalla chuckled. “Well, you’re practically an adult then.”

“She’s mature for her age, and she’s smart. She won’t be a hassle,” Jack said.

Nalla watched Heddi for a length before turning back to Jack. “Three months.” She held up three fingers. “She can stay with me for three months.”

He swallowed. “I don’t know how long—”

“Doesn’t matter. You have three months,” she finished. “I’ve stayed in Littlemore too long already and need to be moving along soon. I’ll put that off for three months, but no more. That girl is your responsibility—you know I can’t take her.” She glanced at Heddi. “I mean no offense.”

Heddi watched Nalla intently before turning to Jack. “Want to stay with you.”

“We talked about this. It’s too dangerous right now. You’re safe with Nalla—Sol Corps won’t find you here,” he said.

“You better not be dragging me into your Sol Corps mess,” Nalla said in a low voice. “I’m free of them and plan to stay that way.”

“We were careful coming here. We don’t have shadows,” he said.

She guffawed. “That’s an illusion. There are always shadows.”

Jack’s earpiece double-chimed, the sound for an all-crew call. They were under radio silence except in the case of an emergency. Suddenly concerned, he activated the comm.

“Guys, I made it through the ship’s files,” Kana’s voice came through.

Jack frowned. “Can’t it wait until I make it back to the ship?”

“Not this. Nalla will want to hear it, too.”

“Nalla? What the hell?” Burn asked.

“Trust me,” Kana said.

“Hold on. Let me put you on speaker.” Jack eyed Nalla as he removed his tablet from his pocket and transferred the call. “Okay, I’m on speaker. Nalla and Heddi’s in the room with me.”

“Hi, Nalla,” Kana said.

“Hello,” Nalla said, shooting Jack a curious glance. He shrugged.

“This won’t take long. I found Serval’s mission file for Heddi. It said a kid from a high-profile family had been kidnapped by likely slavers, so the crew really did think they were doing good. I hate that Sol Corps thinks we’re slavers. Anyway, the mission told them to bring Heddi to the SC3 straightaway to return her to her family.”

Heddi frowned. “But don’t got family, not no more.”

“It was a lie to get the crew to grab you.” Jack shook his head. “None of this seems like information that couldn’t wait.”

“I’m getting to that part. It’s who ordered the mission. It was authorized by a Sol Corps director who goes by the name Charles Metrell.”

The name niggled at Jack’s brain, a name from the dustiest corners of his mind. “Charles Metrell… as in General Metrell?”

Nalla blanched. “Impossible. It’d have to be a coincidence. One of his descendants.”

“Maybe,” Kana said. “We assumed he was dead when his death was reported a decade or two after the mission, so I stopped watching the networks for him. When I saw his name pop up on the mission file, I ran some new background checks. There’s been a Charles Metrell working at the SC3 nonstop since the original Metrell. The ID number changes every few decades, and there’s no picture on file for any of them. Whoever this Charles Metrell is, he’s practically a ghost. Makes for an awfully strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

“It can’t be him,” Nalla said, breathless, her fists clenched. “Because if General Metrell was still alive, I’d kill him for what he did to us.”

Heddi’s brow was deeply furrowed. “Don’t get what you’re talking ‘bout.”

Nalla shot a glance at Jack, and he shook his head. She doesn’t know.

Heddi turned her frown to Jack. “Tell me.”

Nalla stepped between Jack and Heddi. “Go. I’ll keep her safe. Find the truth. If it’s him, you will tell me.”

He nodded. “You have my word.” He took a step toward the door.

Heddi jumped to her feet. “Don’t leave me…”

His jaw loosened. He wanted to say something to assuage the fear in her face, but he had no idea what to say. Instead, he ignored the stone settling in his gut, turned away, and left Heddi behind.

CHAPTER 19

Burn disconnected from the call and leaned against the shuttle’s panel as he let himself get lost in memories, and definitely not the memories he wanted to get lost in… not that he had many of those. But these memories—ones from their earliest months after the Aria mission failure—haunted him the most. The crew had worked nonstop transforming the ship, and every discussion during that time had revolved around General Metrell and the SC3. No matter how much they discussed, how much they researched, everything came back to Metrell. No one else at the SC3 had the power to cause a ship to purge itself and then cover up the murder.

The crew had scoured every news report on the Aria mission—Burn had practically memorized them—and every report had said the ship simply went offline. One year and a day after all attempts to reconnect to Aria failed, Sol Corps had officially listed the mission a failure and the crew deceased.

None of the crew could figure out why Metrell had sabotaged the mission. Burn figured it had something to do with money, because every shitty crime out there always had to do with money. Well, some were crimes of passion, but killing an entire crew nearly a light-year away didn’t exactly have a passionate tone to it.

General Metrell had to be dead. If he wasn’t, that meant the darkest part of Burn’s life wasn’t yet behind him. God, he hoped this Metrell wasn’t the Metrell. If the two men were one and the same, Burn would go Veda on Metrell’s ass.

The proximity alarm sounded, jerking Burn back to reality. The shuttle’s cameras picked up three people in hab-suits approaching. Since they were skulking rather than walking straight for the door, he assumed they were up to no good. As he watched them get closer, he noticed they were scrawny to be adults, though he’d seen some pretty malnourished people in some far-flung colonies. This group seemed a little too scrawny, though, and then he noticed the crowbars they carried.

Damn hoodlums.

He pulled on his helmet and lumbered to the airlock. While he waited for the outer airlock to open, he pulled out a gun and a knife and contemplated. He holstered the gun and looked at the knife, then changed his mind and sheathed that. No way. These were just kids.

He stepped outside. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

The trio froze, clearly not expecting someone to be at the shuttle. Burn inhaled. Guess he’d ruined their little plans of thievery. The would-be thief nearest Burn recovered first and swung his crowbar. Burn avoided it with ease, grabbing the crowbar and yanking it from the punk’s hand.

Burn hefted the weight. “Seriously, you can scratch a perfectly fine paint job with one of these, and I painted this shuttle myself. Okay, well, it’s not exactly painted. It’s covered in a carbon fiber paste, which is a very tedious process. And it turned out beautifully, so I’d prefer if you didn’t try to pry or burn your way onto my very pretty shuttle.”

“What are you waiting for? Get him!” the weaponless thief called to his compatriots.

“I wouldn’t recommend that if I were you,” Burn said.

But the trio didn’t listen, and they went after him as a group. Burn used the crowbar to blow the initial attack and then used the weapon to sweep the feet of one of the attackers. The punks were fast and young. They fought with no skill. Instead, they fought like a feral pack of dogs, making it hard to not get bitten, metaphorically speaking.

Burn didn’t want to hurt them—they were just kids after all—but they were starting to get on his nerves. One of them got a kick to his shin, and he growled. “That does it. You’re starting to piss me off.”

He swung the crowbar, connecting with one of the kid’s stomachs, knocking the air from his lungs. One of his friends took advantage of the distraction and hit Burn in the left bicep with his weapon.

Burn cussed, dropped the crowbar, and drew his knife. Energy shots pelted the ground around them. The kids jerked around.

“Clear out,” Jack ordered as he kept his gun leveled on the group of hoodlums.

And of course they listened to Jack. They took off running, giving Jack a wide berth as they made their way back to wherever they came from.

Jack watched them leave, holstered his gun, and walked over to Burn. “Trouble?”

“No. Why?” Burn turned to the shuttle and opened the outer airlock. The movement caused a spasm in his arm. He winced and rubbed his bicep.

“Something wrong with your arm?” Jack asked as he entered the airlock.

As soon as the outer door was closed, Burn opened the inner door and stepped inside. He tried to wipe the wince from his face before he removed his helmet. “Nope.”

CHAPTER 20

“We’re still not showing up on any deplorables’ lists. So, officially at least, no one’s coming after us,” Kana said.

“They’re coming after us. There’s no way they’re going to let us get away with blowing up a Corps ship,” Burn said.

“We still don’t know if Sol Corps knows that we’re the ones who hit their ship,” Veda said.

“With all those cameras and how many logs they keep, they know,” Jack said.

“At least Heddi’s safe,” Kana said. “I feel better knowing that we don’t have to worry about that little squirt.”

“Yay for her. Now, how about us? Can any of your hacker pals check to see if there’s another Metrell mission out there for us?” Veda asked.

Disappointment fell over her features. “Unfortunately, the first mission was sent directly to a Corps ship, so it didn’t show up on the network. If this Metrell guy follows the same MO and conducts the next mission as another one-off, it’d be easier finding a needle in a haystack than hacking into every Sol Corps’ ship to find a single mission file.”

Jack nodded as he considered their options. He rubbed his temples. “I wish they had us on a list. It’s easier to plan against frontal assaults than sneak attacks coming at us sideways.”

Kana tapped a finger to her chin as she thought. “Ordinarily, I’d try to use a backdoor to get into the sender’s system. It’s always easier to go straight to the source. But this Metrell is practically a ghost. He has a SC3 message account, but those encrypted accounts are foolproof. I can’t even find a physical office other than simply being listed as at the SC3.”

Veda shrugged. “Why don’t we just send this Metrell a message? Tell him to leave us be. If he keeps sending crews after us, we’ll keep killing them.”

Burn shook his head. “That’s practically begging him to come after us.”

Veda smiled. “Exactly. Then we’d find out for sure if he’s the real Metrell or not.”

“But it just invites Sol Corps to learn more about us, and that’s something none of us want. We don’t know if this Metrell guy knows who we are… who we really are,” Burn countered.

“He has a point,” Jack said.

Veda frowned. “Why are you always taking his side?”

“I don’t take sides,” Jack countered.

“Do you think it really could be General Metrell?” Kana asked, softly changing the subject.

Silence fell over Cabrón’s bridge.

“My gut says it’s possible,” Jack said. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it makes sense. Metrell oversaw the nanotech program. Maybe more than just Aria’s crew underwent treatments before the program was shut down.”

“He was an old-timer back then. If he went through treatments at that age, he’d still be an old-timer. Imagine being stuck at eighty years old for this long.” Veda shivered.

“Nanites would’ve helped with arthritis and other ailments,” Kana offered. “Maybe he underwent the treatments to try to reverse the aging process.”

“But that doesn’t work,” Burn said.

“I know that, but we went through the program when it was still experimental. We didn’t know anything about it back then. I mean, obviously we didn’t know the side effects, otherwise Nalla never would’ve gone through the program. Maybe Metrell didn’t know about the side effects either.”

Veda guffawed. “Metrell damn well knew the side effects, and he let the entire crew go through the program anyway.”

Jack cracked his neck. “Enough. Speculating isn’t going to get us free and clear. We work from what we know. We know two things. We know Sol Corps is going to come at us, one way or another, for taking out one of their ships. And we know there’s someone named Metrell who authorized the mission. Metrell isn’t a common name, but it’s not exactly uncommon either. That means this person may or may not be General Metrell, the bastard who screwed us over. Or, he could be a descendant, or he could be some schmuck completely unrelated to the general. Hell, maybe the name drop was a ruse to draw us out. If that’s the case, it’s working. He’s got our attention. We’re going to find out the truth, even if we have to go to the SC3 and knock on his door.”

“I like that idea,” Veda said.

“Tell me you’re not thinking of going to the SC3 and knocking on his door,” Burn said.

Jack shook his head. “I’m not. There’s nothing but bad history there. But we need to either lay low, operate off the grid—which likely means smuggling again—or get Sol Corps off our backs with some brilliant plan I haven’t thought of yet.”

Kana held up her hand. “I vote for laying low. Now that Heddi’s safe with Nalla, we find an asteroid that we snuggle up into for a few years.”

“No way,” Veda said. “I love you, but I nearly killed all of you in your sleep the last time we holed up in an asteroid. Let me pay a visit to this Metrell guy. I’ll make sure he stays off our backs permanently, and he won’t be authorizing any more missions to go after us.”

“The SC3 is a rat nest,” Burn said. “You take out Metrell—there’ll be another rodent filling his shoes five minutes later.”

“Yeah, but the next guy won’t be a Metrell. That’d be one problem resolved.”

Jack remained quiet as he thought.

“You’re not seriously considering letting Veda go after Metrell,” Burn said.

Jack considered Veda’s idea. It wasn’t a bad idea. Veda was very good at his hobby, but it wasn’t a great idea. “We can’t risk it. If Veda gets caught, they’d have walking, breathing proof that we’re still alive.”

“I wouldn’t get caught,” Veda said.

“Walking into the SC3 isn’t like walking into Woven City. It’s the Sol Corps HQ. The only place in the system where the Waymakers helped in setting up security,” Burn said.

Kana shrugged. “When’s the last time the Waymakers got involved with human affairs? All they care about is getting their share of resources from the camps for their replication factory.”

Jack rubbed his temples again. “I need to go to Mars Station to talk to Domino. She’s done a good job at keeping her extracurricular activities off the radar. Maybe she has a mole or two at the SC3 that we can leverage.”

Burn frowned. “Any help from Domino comes with a big price tag.”

“I’m hoping the stuff we pinched from that Corps ship will be enough.”

Kana’s brows lifted. “You’re going to sell the guns to the rebels?”

“And if she can’t help?” Burn asked.

Jack didn’t like what he was about to say. “Then we might have to consider Veda’s idea.”

CHAPTER 21

Docking clamps locked Cabrón’s shuttle into one of Mars Station’s private docks. Jack settled the shuttle into standby mode and unbuckled his seat.

“I like these private docks better,” Burn said. “And to think, all it took was sending a simple code and we could bypass all the radio chatter.”

“It’s definitely more convenient. Let’s just hope Domino’s right in that there aren’t any cameras in this terminal,” Jack said as he headed to the airlock, past the crate of weapons they’d taken from the Corps ship. “I’ll let you know as soon as I make the deal.”

Burn spun around in his seat. “I’ll be here twiddling my thumbs.”

“I don’t want to be down here any longer than I have to. Keep an eye out for trouble.”

“I always do,” Burn said.

Jack headed through the airlock and down the airbridge to a walkway narrower than the one in the public terminal. Where the other walkway had ads covering its walls, this walkway was bare and cleaner, definitely catered to a richer clientele. At the end of the walkway stood a pair of workers in Mars Station uniforms rather than Sol Corps uniforms.

As he approached, the pair moved to block his way.

“Welcome to Mars Station. We work hard to keep this terminal clear of red tape. We hope you can appreciate that,” one of the men said.

“But it gets harder every month. We have to go out of our way to maintain our customers’ privacy,” his partner said.

Ah, the inevitable shake-down to be found at any non-shadowed place. Jack realized that avoiding Sol Corps was becoming an expensive endeavor. He pulled out his tablet. “I have a great appreciation for that sort of thing. How about twenty credits as a sign of my support?”

“One hundred credits,” the first said. “That way, we can provide prompt support. We’d be sure to show extra attention to customers who treat us right. If there were two ships trying to leave around the same time, we might be forced to prioritize which ship’s docking clamps to remove first. Why, second ship could take an hour or more for us to get to.”

Jack sighed. He didn’t have time for this. “One hundred is pure robbery, and you know it. Sixty credits, and that’s all you’re getting from me. You and I know that sixty is still being awfully generous. I advise you to take it.”

The two men shared a surprised glance. They hadn’t expected so much. The first spoke. “Well, if that’s the way it’s gotta be, we’ll settle for that. We’ll take good care of your ship.”

“You’d better.” Jack transferred the credits to the man’s armlet and brushed past them.

“Watch out. There’s a rodent problem going on right now,” the second said.

Jack glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Thanks.” Then he continued into the colony.

Mars Station was busy as ever, but the energy was different. The workers hadn’t been lying—they were having a rodent problem in the form of Sol Corps squads. Pairs of sentinels patrolled every major walkway, stopping people to check credentials in a seemingly random approach. When he noticed a pair headed in his direction, he cut left down a smaller walkway. In addition to keeping his head down, as he always did, Jack had to take several detours to avoid patrols. It took him longer than he liked to get to Jesters.

When he arrived, Robo was standing at the front door. Since he generally hung out at the bar, it was a clear sign the bar’s bouncer was on edge.

“She’s expecting you at the bar,” Robo said and allowed Jack to pass. The bar was nearly full, common for the time between shifts, and he needed to squeeze through patrons to get to the bar. He saw Domino at the other end. She winked at him, downed her drink, and then strolled over.

She approached him with a smile, cupped his cheeks, then kissed him. Then she lowered her hands, taking hold of his hand, and tugged him through the kitchen and to the back room. Once inside, he stepped away. She let her fingers linger on his hand as he did so.

“What’s with all the extra company out there today?” he asked.

“Squads started dropping in within a few hours after my little news story broke,” she said.

“You think they’re onto you?” he asked.

“No. From what I hear, they’ve moved into every large station as a preemptive strike against protests. Their intimidating tactics have been working too. There was a protest planned here, but over half the crowd backed out when they saw squads of Sol Corps sentinels standing around. But the squads are getting bored. They’re checking credentials, and there are plenty of people who don’t have valid creds around here. Folks are getting antsy. I should warn you, while Sol Corps has no authority in the private docks, that won’t stop them from checking them out if they want.”

Jack frowned. “I know. That’s why I need to keep our meeting brief. I want to make a deal. I have a crate of Sol Corps weapons: a dozen rifles, fifteen pistols, twenty or so smokers, and various other items, including a full box of stunners. All in good condition. I thought you might have a use for it.”

Her brows rose. “That sounds like a full squad’s worth of weaponry.”

He nodded. “It’s courtesy of the crew of the S.C.S. Serval. They don’t need it anymore.”

“And you just happened to come across it?”

“You don’t need to know the boring details.”

“How much do you want for it?” she asked.

“It’s yours in exchange for some services. Someone at Sol Corps has developed an interest in me and my crew. I want them off our backs.”

“I’m not sure how you think I can help.”

“I know you have moles at the SC3. I want details on the man placing the orders, and I want your people to remove data about my ship and crew from all records.”

She chuckled drily. “What you’re asking is beyond my abilities. My friends at the SC3 have very limited access. They’re low-level administrative staff.”

He didn’t believe her. “If you can’t help me, I’ll have to find another buyer.”

She held up a hand. “Wait. I can’t promise the extent of what you’re asking—someone would notice and that would put my source in danger. I would need at least ten times the number of weapons you’re offering to risk that. But what I can do is make a few calls. I might be able to have a few files here and there get corrupted. It’ll be enough that Sol Corps won’t be able to easily track you. Do you know the name of the individual who’s developed an interest in you?”

He swallowed. “He goes by the name of Charles Metrell. At least that’s the name on the mission assigned to hit Cabrón.”

Her features hardened. “I’m familiar with that name. I don’t know if Charles Metrell is an individual or a group of individuals operating out of the SC3. What I do know is that name pops up on a fair number of Sol Corps shadow ops. You remember how the news story about Pallas Six came out before first responders reached the scene?”

He nodded.

“My source said Metrell was listed on the news authorization form.”

His eyes narrowed. “You think he’s the one who shut down the power at Pallas Six?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know that, but I know he’s connected to it in one way or another. Being on his radar is not good for anyone’s health.”

“Can you find information on him?” Jack asked.

“I’ve been trying to get more information on him for over three years now, ever since the Mamau cat fail. I’ve been drawing blanks.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest as he considered her words.

“If anyone can get you information and get Sol Corps off your backs, it’s me. Do we have a deal?”

He eyed her for a length. “You want all the weapons I brought in exchange for making a few calls. That sound about right?”

She pursed her lips. “It’s the best I can offer.”

He sighed. “Okay. We have a deal.”

She smiled. “I’ll send a team to unload your shuttle now. I assume you brought the weapons with you?”

“I did.” He pulled out his tablet and sent a comm request to the shuttle.

“Hey, Captain. Getting bored here. Is it a go?” Burn said.

“We have a go. Domino’s sending people to help unload. I’ll be heading back shortly.” He disconnected the call.

“Do you have to go so soon? You should stay, have a drink,” she offered.

“Too many sentinels here for my comfort,” he said.

“Have it your way.” She sounded put out. “But don’t think that I don’t notice that every time we meet, you’re getting one step closer to joining the cause.”

He shook his head and walked to the door. “I’m not. Like I’ve told you before, I’m not a joiner.”

“It’s not about joining; it’s about picking sides. And if you don’t pick the right side, then you’re picking the wrong side.”

“It’s never as black and white as you make it out to be,” he said.

“It is when you strip away the details.” She joined him at the door and walked with him to the bar. She grabbed his hand while she leaned up against the bar. “Stay for one drink. My treat.”

“I need to head back.”

“Five minutes,” she said.

He considered. “Five minutes,” he echoed.

She grinned and held up two fingers. The bartender poured two glasses of vodka and set them on the bar. She grabbed the glasses and handed one to Jack.

“To black and white,” she said.

He narrowed his gaze, then held up his glass. They downed their drinks together.

A commotion erupted at the doorway, and they turned to see a squad of sentinels walk inside. Robo walked in behind them, a glower on his face. Another squad entered through Jesters second entrance at the other end of the bar.

As soon as the patrons saw the sentinels, chaos erupted, and the bar started clearing out.

Jack looked to the exits. Both were blocked. He grabbed Domino’s arm. “I think now’s a good time to leave.”

“I agree.”

He ushered her toward the back hallway, but a young group of patrons stumbled into the way as they tried to scurry away from the sentinels. Jack noticed a squad heading right toward him and Domino.

“Domino Wolfe, stop. We have a warrant for your arrest,” a sentinel yelled.

Robo, right behind the squad, wrapped his arm around a sentinel’s neck and yanked him back. Several of the troops switched their focus to pummeling Robo.

Jack pulled Domino toward the kitchen. The young group of patrons had beat them there and slammed the door shut. Jack went to push it open, but through the window, he saw three young men pushing against it as one locked it.

“Let us in!” Jack yelled.

One of them mouthed Sorry and took off running.

Jack was about to unholster his concealed pistol to shoot the handle, but five members of the first squad reached them first, and they all had stunners in their hands.

“Hands in the air!” one yelled.

Jack and Domino did as instructed.

“Domino Wolfe, we have a warrant for your arrest,” one said as he holstered his stunner, pulled out a scanner, and approached.

Domino jutted out her chin as the sentinel scanned her face. “What for?”

“For suspicion of political agitation.”

She chortled. “Political agitation? I haven’t even attended a protest. If you’re going to arrest me, you might as well arrest every other person living in this system.”

The sentinel ignored her, letting one of his squad members bind her wrists.

Jack racked his brain as to how he could avoid getting scanned. All exit points were blocked. If he went for his gun, they’d stun him before he could shoot. He was stuck. He nearly snarled when the sentinel held up the scanner in front of Jack’s face.

The sentinel read the scanner. “Jack Hale. You’ve been flagged for questioning.” The man nodded to a squad member.

“Face the wall.” A sentinel holstered his stunner before grabbing Jack’s wrist. He was surprised they hadn’t unarmed him first, but maybe protocol stated to restrain him before disarming him. Didn’t matter to Jack. If he was arrested, he’d never get a decent shot at getting free. Of the five, only two sentinels currently had their stunners in their hands. One—the obvious leader—stood to the side reading the screen on his scanner. The fourth had Domino facing the wall as he finished restraining her. The fifth was twisting Jack’s left arm behind his back.

Jack used the motion to begin his attack. He spun clockwise, bringing his right elbow up and slamming it into the sentinel’s head. He wore a helmet, but the movement threw him off balance. Jack kept spinning, yanking the sentinel in front of him to take the incoming stun sent by the first sentinel to react.

Jack shoved the now-unconscious man into the sentinel who’d fired at him, knocking him down. The other armed man fired, but Jack was already ducking, and the shot went over his head. The man holding Domino released her to attack, but Jack sent him down with a solid punch to the groin (yes, he fought dirty) as he lunged up and forward at the second armed sentinel. Jack semi-flattened his hand and punched the man in the neck using his fingers’ middle joints.

The man stumbled back, clutching at his throat. Jack didn’t slow. The leader had dropped the scanner in a rush to grab his gun while yelling for backup. Jack body-slammed him into the wall, the force knocking the air out of the other man’s chest and sending him to the floor.

A shot whizzed by his ear. He dove, reaching out for Domino as he went down. She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear above the noise and his adrenaline rush. Pushing her behind the bar, he unholstered his gun. Energy fire chipped off the edges of the bar. The sentinels had switched to guns. He could hear a man ordering him to surrender—the same voice of the man who’d scanned Jack.

Jack glanced at Domino, who was watching him intently as she struggled with her restraints. He pulled out his knife and put it in her grip before closing his eyes and taking a calming breath. Then he leapt out from the bar. The sentinels had been firing at the counter, and in the split-second it took them to adjust their aim a couple of meters to the left, Jack had taken down three, including the loud-mouthed leader.

Two squads of sentinels were spread around the bar. The other squad hadn’t realized he was armed, and they hadn’t taken cover. Jack strafed the bar. With Jesters being longer than it was wide, the sentinels were spread out, and he took down four sentinels before one managed to score a hit. The energy shot was an icicle stabbed into his side, followed by a scorching burn. He tumbled by a table, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to fire. Robo, his face bloody and wrists restrained behind his back, was on his feet and slammed into two sentinels from behind. That startled another sentinel nearby, who Jack took out with a clean shot.

Those who remained had become jittery at seeing their comrades fall. It made their aim less accurate. Even as a kid, Jack became better under pressure. Fear, excitement… the emotion didn’t matter. What mattered was that adrenaline put Jack into a hyper state of awareness. His hands didn’t tremble. Every shot he took was a kill shot.

The entire battle had lasted less than forty seconds.

Jack looked around to see two squads—sixteen sentinels—dead or wounded. He turned to find Domino holding his knife and staring at him. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. The way you moved… how’d you move so fast?”

“Help Robo,” he said. He pulled out his tablet and called Burn. There was no answer by the time Domino returned with Robo. Each carried weapons they’d taken from the fallen. Frowning, Jack pocketed the tablet. “I can’t reach my shuttle.”

“Maybe they got to the docks,” she offered.

He blew out a breath and winced, grabbing his side.

“You’re shot. You need a patch,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.” He took his knife back and sheathed it. “We need to get out of here.”

Robo hustled to the door that read Staff Only and began shooting at the handle. After several shots, he kicked the door in.

Domino led the trio to the backroom rather than to the staff exit. She opened a drawer near the door and entered a code. The door swung open.

“Huh,” Jack said.

“What?” Domino asked.

“I never knew that was there.”

“Most don’t.” She rushed into the room. “Mittens!”

The cat meowed and jumped down from its perch. Robo picked up the cat while Domino continued to the door on the far side of the room. She entered another code, and the door clicked. She opened it. “This is a shortcut to the private docks.”

She continued to lead, though she spoke to various people via her armlet as they hurried through the narrow, cold tunnel. Every step was becoming more and more agonizing to Jack. The stitch in his side had become screaming torture. He clenched his jaw and pushed through the darkness that was a creeping into the corners of his vision.

“You don’t look so good,” Robo said, his words nasally through a broken nose.

“You don’t look so great yourself,” Jack gritted out.

Domino glanced over her shoulder. “Sol Corps did a coordinated mass arrest across all of Mars Station. People are fighting back. It’s ugly out there.”

“Can we launch?” Jack asked after grunting at the pain.

“As long as they don’t have an armada in orbit we can,” she replied.

She frowned, then fell back and slid her arm under Jack’s shoulders. “You should be on your back.”

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked.

She guffawed. “If you think that’s flirting, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Jack’s tablet chimed, and he struggled to get it. Domino assisted in answering the call.

“Jack, we’ve got a problem,” Kana’s voice came through.

“You’re telling me. Sol Corps has taken over Mars Station,” Jack said.

“Are you okay? You don’t sound okay.”

“Just a bug bite. I’m heading to the docks to find Burn now.”

“I can’t reach Burn. I think something’s happened to him.”

“I can’t reach him either.”

“Damn it. Well, that’s a problem, but not the problem I’m calling about. There’s a Sol Corps interceptor locked onto us. I’m trying to delay them until you get here.”

“I have a ship,” Domino said. “I’ll get him to you later.”

“Who’s that?” Kana asked.

“Domino. Run, Kana. I’ll find Burn and catch up with you.”

There was a slight pause. “Be careful.”

The call disconnected, and Jack nearly collapsed. Just talking to Kana had burned up most of his remaining energy. His body needed time to rest and receive nutrients, but neither was an option.

“How much farther?” he asked.

“Not far at all. Don’t die on me,” Domino answered.

Jack chuckled weakly at the idea, though the extra movement caused a stab of pain. He focused on breathing and not moaning in pain as they continued through the winding tunnel. Seeing a door up ahead gave him an inkling of energy.

When Domino opened the door, the long private terminal ran to their left and to their right. To their left, a full squad of sentinels stood at the entrance to Mars Station.

“Blast it,” Domino said. “My ship’s that way.”

Jack squinted to remember. He pointed to the right. “My shuttle’s over here.”

The group headed toward his shuttle. Robo walked to Domino’s left, placing himself between the squad and her. Someone shouted, and Robo started firing.

They rushed to the airbridge and ran to the shuttle. The moment they set foot on the shuttle, Robo closed the outer door. Mittens jumped from his arms in a huff.

Jack glanced around the cabin to find no sign of Burn. There was also no sign of the weapons. Blood spray marred one wall, and Jack felt real fear.

“We’ll find your crew member,” Domino promised.

Jack ignored her and went straight for the pilot’s seat. “This shuttle’s got a seven-day charge. We need to connect with Cabrón or one of your buddies by then.”

“No problem. I have a place nearby,” she said.

The pain was becoming a dull ache. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He powered up all systems and skipped the preflight checks. Mittens jumped onto his lap, and he weakly pushed it off. Tunnel vision was closing off the world around him. He blinked. He turned to Domino, but he couldn’t really see her. “Can you fly?”

Her answer was garbled as he sunk into oblivion.

PART FOUR

THE FREEDOM GAMBIT

CHAPTER 1

“The ship’s not made for this!” Veda said from his seat on the bridge.

“It’ll hold,” Kana said, tacking on a quiet, “I hope” as she made another trajectory change without slowing down.

The S.C.S. Margay had been chasing them for three hours already. As long as Kana kept the speed shields up, EMPs were useless. Margay matched Cabrón’s speed, but it wasn’t gaining on them. The distance between the pair was nearly two hundred kilometers, which meant Margay was too far back to throw nets. Since Corps ships had no weapons—the Waymakers had prohibited them as one of their requirements in sharing their technology—Sol Corps’ primary response was to shut down drive systems via the Sol Corps network most ships were on.

Generally, only pirates and smugglers stayed off the network, and Kana knew it was just a matter of time before Sol Corps passed a law requiring everyone to be on their invasive network. She already knew exactly what she’d say to that: hell no.

As long as Kana didn’t make any stupid mistakes, Margay wouldn’t catch them. But all the Corps ship had to do was keep Cabrón on their map until reinforcements arrived. The only reason more Corps ships weren’t on Kana’s ass right now was the riots taking place at Mars Station. The news was all over that, and Sol Corps, the attention whores they were, would be wherever the media was.

“Do you have a plan yet besides going fast and turning a lot, brown eyes?” Veda asked, sounding more sarcastic than kind.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m bringing us deeper into the belt toward Vesta.”

He frowned. “Why Vesta?”

“Because there’s a whole swarm of asteroids junking up that vicinity. I plan to lose them in the soup.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll slow down. We shouldn’t hit too many rocks.”

“Too many?” Veda rubbed his neck. “I really wish Jack let me put rail guns on Cabrón.”

“He might change his mind with all the attention we’ve been getting lately. Any change in distance from our tail chaser?”

“Not yet. Still at one-ninety-seven Ks, and they’re still sending us the same stupid message.” He pointed. “Watch out!”

“I see it.” She maneuvered to twist around an asteroid that popped up in front of them. She didn’t tell him that she’d noticed it after Veda yelled. Flying was always so much easier in the games.

They were still over an hour away from Vesta, but the congestion was starting to build. There was a fog of dust that pelted the hull like someone was running a sandblaster over the surface.

“They’re slowing down,” Veda said.

Slowing down? “They must be getting nervous about the soup.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean they’re really slowing down, like their engines went offline and someone threw on reverse thrusters.”

“Run a scan on their energy sig. Tell me what you find,” she said as she headed toward an asteroid large enough to hide behind.

“I’m running it now. Let’s see, looks like they’re not emitting any propulsion wash. They’re dead in the black. Either they broke down, decided to give up, or changing strategies.”

“Or they were hacked by their own hack,” she added.

Veda chortled. “Sol Corps doesn’t shut down their own ships.”

She shrugged. “Things are going crazy on Mars. Who knows, maybe some Corps crews are picking sides.”

“You’ve always been the optimist. My guess is they’re changing their strategy to come at us a different way.”

“And you’ve always been the pessimist.” She passed the asteroid she planned to hide behind before slowing down. She lined up the ship so that the asteroid was directly between Cabrón and Margay. Then she slowed down, switching to reverse thrusters as soon as she could. It took several minutes, but once she locked Cabrón in tight with the asteroid, she leaned back and exhaled. “All right. We should be safe here for now. Once that Corps ship moves away—assuming they didn’t have a cat fail—we can double back to pick up Jack and Burn.” She winced. “I hope Jack found Burn.”

“I’m sure he did. Knowing Burn, he dropped his tablet again and busted the comm.” Veda stood and stretched. He strolled over to her, bent down, and kissed her. “We don’t get the ship to ourselves enough. When’s the last time we had sex on the bridge?”

She smiled but held up a finger as she programmed the scanner to notify her of any change in Margay’s trajectory. As soon as that was done, she unbuckled her belt and looked up at him. “I like the sound of that.”

He pulled her into his arms, and they danced in perfect rhythm to a song that played only in their minds. They kissed, and she melted into his warmth.

With Cabrón tucked behind the asteroid, everything was still and silent… until Kana heard a pebble bounce off the hull. That was normal in the belt, but the sound that followed caused her to stop. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He stilled but didn’t release her.

She cocked her head and strained to hear. “There it goes again.”

He shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“I did. It’s a skittering, like something running across the hull.”

He held up his hands. “If rats can survive in space now, I give up. They deserve to infest the universe.”

“I’m serious,” she said as he returned to her seat and activated a hull scan. “How many years have I been flying this ship?”

“As many years as I’ve been riding you, I mean, it.”

“During that time, I’ve never heard that sound before. There’s something out there. I know it. Check on Margay.”

He sobered and took his seat. “It’s still parked where it was a few minutes ago.”

“Did it shoot something at us?”

“I don’t know.” He stood. “I think I’d better put on my hab-suit.” He headed off the bridge.

The hull scan came back negative. No hull breaches or damage. But she wasn’t going crazy. She’d heard something. Maybe Sol Corps had some type of EMP projectile that would go right through energy-based speed shields. In a rush, she ran an energy scan. She didn’t know what type of energy to look for, so she ran the full gamut. Within seconds, her screen beeped. The scan had picked up a data feed. Something on an unknown network was on the hull, above the bridge and a couple of meters to Kana’s left.

“V, we have a problem!”

Seconds later, he came racing in, wearing his hab-suit and holding his helmet. “What is it?”

“There’s something on the hull receiving a signal from somewhere.”

“Margay.” He practically spat the name.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She drummed her armrest with her fingers. “I can’t block the signal. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Where is it now?”

The hull breach alarm sounded. Both their eyes went wide. In a rush, Kana pointed to the map of the hull. “It’s right here!”

He stared at the map for a brief second. “Got it. Monitor it, and I’ll go at it from outside.” He took off running down the hallway to the airlock.

“Be careful. We don’t know what it is,” Kana called out behind him. She sat, frozen, helpless, as she watched the blip on the hull map. She racked her brain for ideas, but Cabrón had no defensive weapons on its hull. She’d heard about a pirate ship that had an electrical grid covering its hull that could be charged. She could use something like that right about now.

Instead, she was stuck watching a blip as it burrowed through the hull.

The hull.

She jumped up and ran to a cabinet on the back wall of the bridge. Inside, she pulled out a breather mask. She didn’t have time to put on her hab-suit, so the mask would have to do. Veda needed her at her station, watching and communicating with him.

She nearly sat down again, but then went to a different cabinet and pulled out a gun. If whatever was on the hull broke through, she’d make damn sure it wouldn’t get through without a few hits.

What was on the hull? It had to be a torpedo of some sort—whether electromagnetic or explosive, either would screw them. It couldn’t be a sentinel. Margay was too far away for a hab-suit flight, and Cabrón’s sensors would’ve picked up a shuttle. So… what the hell was up there?

“V, can you read me?” she asked.

“Loud and clear. I’m out of the airlock and just latched onto a running bar. I’m heading forward now.”

“Okay. The blip hasn’t moved. It’s still at the same spot.”

“Got it. Nearly there. Don’t see anything yet. Wait, there it is. What the—well, it isn’t a rat.”

She heard an energy shot through his microphone.

“Little fucker’s got armor.”

An alarm message popped up that Kana had never seen before: SYSTEM BREACH.

Kana froze. The thing outside had never intended to breach the hull. It just needed access to Cabrón’s wiring. They’d sent a virus. “Oh god, oh god, oh god. It’s hacked our systems. You have to stop it now, V!”

“Working on it!”

She heard a flurry of shots and Veda’s grunts, like he was wrestling with someone.

“I’ve got to take everything offline to keep it from fully infecting or hijacking or whatever the hell it wants to do to our systems.”

The sounds of fighting continued, followed by a crash.

“V?” Kana asked.

No response.

“Talk to me, V.”

No response.

“V!”

She clenched and unclenched her fists as she tried to decide whether to shut down the systems or keep comms open in case Veda needed her, but how could she help him? With a whimper, she ran a full system shutdown. Everything went dark. The constant vibrating hum disappeared, leaving the ship in pure darkness and silence.

Kana had been scared plenty of times in her life, but this was the worst. She’d never been alone before. She stared out the window, searching for Veda, but saw nothing. And, with everything down, he couldn’t reenter the ship… assuming he was even okay.

Veda needed her. She jumped to her feet and ran to her room. Even in the pitch black, she didn’t miss a step. She knew ever millimeter of that ship. Once she was in the room she shared with Veda, she ran her hands over the wall of drawers and cabinets until she found the right drawer. She opened it and rummaged through the contents until she found the boot card. She kissed it and hurried back to the bridge.

Kana nearly toppled off her seat in her rush to sit. “Oof.” She bent and felt under her station for the input slots. She inserted the card and then pressed and held the bottom left and top right corners of the screen. After five seconds, the screen flashed before turning solid yellow. Data populated the screen, filtering down as the minimum systems came online. Environmentals revved up. Lights came on, but they were dimmed. Within minutes, Cabrón’s minimal systems were live with no networks active. Each system was operating without any connectivity to other systems.

If she was lucky, she’d shut down the systems before they were infected or hacked. If she wasn’t lucky, she hoped running the systems in safe mode would be enough to isolate and kill whatever had infiltrated Cabrón. If she was really unlucky, she’d have to hunt and chase the malicious code.

She initiated a full system scan, then took off running for the airlock. Through the window, she saw Veda entering the airlock. His helmet was broken with a hole inside. As soon as the outer door closed, he leaned against the wall. In one of his hands he was holding… something. It was black and metallic and resembled a spider, if that arachnid had twice as many legs and was the size of a baby.

She opened the inner airlock. The airlock’s pressurization system was offline, so there was no atmosphere in the cubicle. A slight vacuum sucked at her, and Veda sucked in a breath. She rushed to him, keeping a wary eye on the thing as she helped him remove the broken helmet.

“V, are you okay?”

He gave her a quaint stare. Blood vessels were broken in his eyes, and his skin was tinged white with frostbite. He sucked in another lungful of air and coughed.

“How bad are your lungs?” she asked when his breathing leveled out.

“Just… a little bit,” he said, breathless, and handed the spider-like thing to her. She gingerly took it to find it much lighter than it looked. The dark metal had scorch marks from energy shots. It looked like it’d come back to life except for Veda’s knife skewering its center.

“Let’s get you to the healing pod.” She wrapped her free arm around his waist and helped him walk. He didn’t lean on her too heavily, which meant he hadn’t been too badly injured, but she needed to see the scan before she’d quit worrying. As soon as they reached the medical room, she set the spider-thing on the table. Veda was shivering from exposure. She helped him out of his hab-suit and his clothes.

“I was worried when I couldn’t reach you. I hated shutting down the systems and locking you outside,” she said.

“You did… what you… had to do. I’ll be fine.”

She assisted him into the healing pod and kissed him gently. “Hang in there, tiger.”

Kana closed the pod cover and began working the pod’s complicated controls. After a moment, she blew out a breath. “I wish Burn were here.” She’d been in the pod plenty of times, just like the rest of the crew. Needing the pod came with the side effects of having sometimes unruly nanites in their bodies. But Burn had always been around to handle the pod’s controls. She knew how to operate it, but it wasn’t second nature like it was to Burn. It took her a couple of minutes to run the scan. Some bruising, but exposure was the primary concern. The pod’s control screen asked if she wished to repair the discovered injuries.

“Hell yes.” She tapped the button on the screen and stepped back, pausing to watch her now-sleeping husband recover in the chamber.

She next examined the spider-thing in hopes of discovering its programming. The tips of its legs were sharp claws, and in the center of those were drill bits. There were no input slots on its body—it received and transmitted all information wirelessly. She could work around that by dissecting it to get at its CPU. She’d feel much safer anyway by having its brains removed from its nightmarish body.

It was an ugly, nasty thing that looked like nothing she’d seen before. Well, almost nothing. It was the same color and bore a similar outer design to the Waymakers, but she’d never heard of them creating anything except copies of the probes. She wondered if this, too, was a probe, just on a smaller scale. But the Waymakers were a nonviolent species. They said that harming any bioform was against their protocol. Veda’s broken helmet and the deep bruises on his chest and arms told a different story.

She couldn’t believe it. General Metrell had created his own mini-Waymaker probe, one that wasn’t tied to the Waymakers’ peaceful protocols. If he’d managed that, what else could he do? The thought caused her to shiver.

She blew out another breath. “I wish Jack were here.”

CHAPTER 2

Charles Metrell was excited when Margay’s captain reported in.

“Tell me you’ve secured the targets,” Charles said.

“Sorry, sir. We were in pursuit when someone nulled us. We’re rebooting our systems now to reestablish control with our propulsion systems, but we’ve lost the targets,” she said.

His excitement dissipated. “What? Who nulled you?”

“We don’t know, sir. We haven’t picked up any other Corps ships in this sector. We can only assume that someone mistook our ship for a runner and the signal hit us by accident.”

Charles grimaced. No. Not someone. Something. The Waymaker had warned him, but he hadn’t realized how curious the AI had become with that particular ship and crew. It’d crossed the line by interfering with Corps business. And now that it had, there was nothing Charles could do.

“We’ll begin searching as soon as we are back up and running. We won’t let you down, sir.”

“Bah.” Charles brandished his hand as he muttered under his breath. “No need. Return to your task unit.”

“Sir?”

“I said, return to your task unit, Captain. This ship and crew are already being handled.” Charles disconnected the call. His frustration wasn’t with Margay’s captain. It was with himself for not being more aggressive in pursuing the ship before it piqued the Waymaker’s curiosity. Damned AIs.

He considered requesting an interaction with the Waymaker before he abruptly tapped his intercom. “Janita.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Send me all footage that’s been acquired of the ship and crew Serval and Margay hunted.”

“I’ll have it to you right away, sir.”

He tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk as he waited. While he waited, he accessed his personal archives. There were thousands of projects in those archives, but he knew the exact directory he wanted. In the search box, he entered ARIA—a single project folder remained. He randomly scrolled through images of the ship and crew for ten minutes until his computer chimed and a new folder appeared on his screen.

Charles opened the icon to find a list of images and videos, each labeled by either the ship or crew member’s name. He flashed through the ship pictures and videos first, but other than similar shape and size to Aria, it bore little resemblance. He switched to the crew members. He ran through the crew roster. Four crew members. In their roster pictures, the three men bore bushy beards, and the woman bore tinted glasses. Besides the obvious props, Charles suspected the pictures had been doctored. This crew looked identical to every outer belt crew. Manipulated pictures would slow down image comparisons, but he ran the roster and footage against Aria’s crew anyway.

As it ran, he checked photos and images of the crew obtained from Corps surveillance, finding files for only two crew members during a recent trip to Mars Station. There were several files for the captain, a man named Jack Hale, so he began with the single file for the other crew member named Burn Ransom. It was a video from wide-angle cameras placed in the Mars Station docks, so the video was slightly distorted. The video showed the crew member being walked in the center of a group of rough-looking individuals. They were tight around him, one member pulling a crate behind them. The crew member was too blocked in to get a good view of his face, and Charles disregarded it, moving onto the captain.

There were files for multiple dates on Mars Station. Charles went with the most recent—the date of the Mars Station revolt. The captain’s head was down in every damned surveillance video. It wasn’t until the second to last video that Charles got a direct view of the captain’s face… and much more. The footage was from a camera stationed in a walkway but recording activity within a bar. The establishment had been full, but it’d cleared out quickly when two squads arrived. The camera only gleaned footage of activity taking place near the windows, so most of the action was off-camera. But after the battle began, whoever was fighting the squads off-screen moved into the picture to take out the other sentinels.

And he moved fast.

From what Charles could tell, a single man took out two full squads. And he’d done it in under a minute. Only someone with freakishly fast reflexes could move that fast… or someone with nanotech. Charles watched the video again, this time freezing it on an image of the captain. The image was blurred because he was moving, but it was clear enough to ring familiarity. Charles had spent weeks scouring candidates for the Aria mission. He’d learned so much about every crew member that he felt like he knew them personally. This image—this man—seemed familiar, he was sure of it.

He checked the comparative scan results to find it had completed. The results were unfortunately inconclusive, but they did display forty to sixty percent confidence in matching four Aria crew members. He looked at the names and pictures:

Jack Halverton, hardware specialist, match to Captain Jack Hale. Fifty-nine percent confidence.

Thomas Lomas, hardware specialist, match to Burn Ransom, crew member. Fifty-one percent confidence.

Veda Corcoran, hardware specialist, match to Veda Kocher, crew member. Forty-four percent confidence.

Kana Corcoran, software specialist, match to Kana Kocher, crew member. Forty-six percent confidence.

Cabrón’s crew roster didn’t list specialties and only distinguished Hale as the captain, because all crew rosters required by law to list a captain, someone to be held accountable for the entire crew. It was as if this crew had done the minimums, and only the minimums, on their profiles and roster to withhold information. Crews that did that were either outlaws or loners, so this crew’s actions wouldn’t have stood out.

While the scan results were inconclusive, Charles was confident. On his screen, he set up images of the four crew member pictures from the two ships, along with freeze-frames of the video footage.

“Janita, come in here.”

A few seconds later, Janita Coffman entered his office.

He motioned to her. “Come here. Look at these. Tell me what you think.”

She approached his desk and looked at the screen. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the images. “There’s some resemblance, but I can’t tell if they’re the same. Descendants, maybe?”

“You don’t think it’s odd that three of them have the same first names on both rosters?” he asked.

“It’s quite a coincidence. And the fourth, Burn Ransom… that name rings a bell. Wait, I remember. It was the main character in a series of books I read when I was a kid. I remember the name because I thought it was cool at the time.” She leaned back on the edge of his desk. “What are you thinking?”

His lips pursed before he spoke. “I think Aria’s crew isn’t as dead as we thought.”

Her lips parted. “If the crew’s alive… well, that opens up a lot of questions I’d like to ask them.” She straightened. “What if Aria’s crew has been alive this entire time? Why did they abandon the mission?”

“That is certainly a question I’d like to ask them myself,” Charles said. “Janita, I need you to run scans to pull all footage associated with this crew for the past two hundred years.”

She gaped. “That will take months, at least.”

“Start with the most recent decade then. I want better images. Their crew roster pictures are doctored, obviously. I want to confirm that all four crew members were on Aria, and—more importantly—I want to know the places they frequent. We’ve been behind the curve. That changes now.”

“I’ll get right on it.” She began walking to the door.

“And be sure to keep this between just us,” he added.

She eyed him. “Of course.”

As soon as his assistant left, Charles placed a call. She answered after a dozen or so seconds.

“Hello, Charles,” Managing Director Junger said.

“Hello, Director. I have an update for you.”

“Hold on for a second.” He heard rustling. Several seconds later, she spoke again. “Tell me you have good news, and not that you’ve let another one of my ships get blown up.”

“Serval was a Corps ship, not yours, and no, there’s been no damage to another Corps ship.” She didn’t comment, and he continued. “The Pallas Six survivor was killed while trying to escape Mars Station during the revolt. The slaver crew also perished, ironically taken out by a competing crew. Consider all Pallas Six loose strings officially cut.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Charles. Will that be all?”

He frowned. “I thought you’d be more disappointed not having the child.”

“Circumstances have changed. My pet project worked out without her.”

“I’m curious as to your pet project.”

“Good night, Charles.” She disconnected the call.

Charles never liked Marlo Junger, mostly because she’d never liked him, but he’d respected her mind and passion. She was better than many directors he’d worked under through the years. She saw Sol Corps as a guide for all people in the system rather than as a police force. But he’d begun to see hints that her philosophy was becoming harder. Pallas Six hadn’t been her first strike. And, with the punch guns he saw being added to every Corps ship, he knew her plans would soon jeopardize their relationship with both the Waymakers as well as with the colonists.

He feared more about the Waymakers. When Sol Corps and their Waymaker had brought peace to the system, they established rules to maintain that peace. One of those rules made it clear, in no uncertain terms: there would be no more weapons incorporated in ship design. Technology and deadly weaponry needed to be forever separated to ensure the longevity of the human species. Yet, Charles had seen the crates. Junger’s engineers had devised portable punch guns that could be attached to ships via incredibly strong magnets.

Since the punch guns were portable and not permanently attached to ships, Junger was using a loophole to get around that rule. He doubted the Waymakers would see it the same way. Every system—every system—Sol Corps ran was more integrated with the Waymaker source code than Junger realized. He knew how tightly connected Sol Corps was with the Waymakers, and he hoped Junger wouldn’t do something stupid to bring that unpleasant truth to light.

He had no authority over Junger, and she would never heed his counsel. Perhaps if he told her everything… but that would cause even bigger problems. He tried not to think about Junger’s games and instead switched his focus onto something he could control… beginning with Cabrón’s crew and solving a grand mystery. How was it they were still alive?

CHAPTER 3

Jack woke up in a strange bed with a familiar cat curled up against him. He went to move, winced, and grabbed his side to find a bandage wrapped around his waist, covering his wound. He discovered that he had no shirt on. In fact, he was naked under the blanket. He forced himself to sit, and Mittens the cat meowed her complaint. He rubbed her head as gained his bearings. The bedroom was small with only a single, closed door. His clothes were on the floor, folded in a neat stack next to his boots. There was no sign of his weapons and tablet, which concerned him.

He reached for his pants and pulled them on, even though his side protested. Taking a deep breath, he found the strength to stand. His first step was wobbly and his muscles were stiff, which made him wonder how long he’d been out. He headed for the door. As soon as he opened it, Mittens took the lead through the next room and straight for the kitchen. Jack followed. His stomach growled at the smell of sweet grits, though he moved more slowly than the cat.

He found Domino leaning against the counter, eating from a bowl. Her expression registered surprise before she said, “You’re up.”

He gingerly slid into a seat at the small table. “I don’t suppose you have some extra food around here.”

She nodded, set down her bowl, went about filling a second bowl with dry mix and water, and setting it in the cooker. “We’re short on bed space around here, so I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here.”

“Thanks for looking out for me.” He cocked a sideways grin. “Though I woke up naked. You didn’t take advantage of a passed-out man, did you?

“Would you mind if I had?” She smiled. “It wouldn’t have been much fun if I had. You were so far under, I kept having to check your pulse to make sure you hadn’t died on me. Besides, Mittens wouldn’t give up her spot tucked in next to you. I think she’d go with you back to your ship even though she hates flying.”

He glanced down at the cat. She didn’t seem to disagree. He looked around the kitchen. “Where are we?”

Domino removed the bowl of food from the cooker and set it and a spoon in front of him. “Smuggler’s Cove. It used to be an old mining colony ago. Now this asteroid is nothing but scablands. It’s one of the few places in this system that we don’t have to worry about shadows peeking around the corners here, so it tends to attract the sort who prefers to avoid Sol Corps attention.”

He ate the grits, though it was more like he inhaled the grits. He was starving. He felt rested, but food was just as important. Domino set a mug of water on the table. “Thanks,” he mumbled with a mouthful of food. He was familiar with Smuggler’s Cove. He’d been there more than once, and he wondered if Rudy’s was still serving the same slop out of his café near the center of the old camp.

Once he finished the bowl, he chugged the water. She was still eating her meal and raised her brows. “Still hungry?”

He nodded. When she moved, he started to push himself up. “I can take care of it.”

“No. Stay. You’ve been on your deathbed for three days. Give yourself time to recover.”

He gulped the final drink of water. Three days? His wound must’ve been worse than he thought. He touched the bandage.

Domino noticed the movement. “How’re you feeling?”

“Okay. It was just a graze,” he said.

She guffawed. “Bullshit.” She didn’t say anything else while she prepared him a second serving and set it before him. “I’m one who’s been playing doctor to you the past three days. I saw the wound. That shot was through-and-through, and it hit your liver. It would’ve been a death sentence to anyone. You shouldn’t be alive, let alone walking.”

She then invaded his personal space, and he leaned back. She poked the bandage at the exact location of the wound, and he winced. “The first time I changed your bandage, the blood had completely clotted. That was less than an hour after we left Mars Station. The second time I changed it, not only had it fully scabbed over, but the new scar tissue was forming. Oh, but it wasn’t scar tissue… it was healthy new skin. I haven’t changed your bandage in over a day because I didn’t need to. The skin has already completely healed over. There’s not even a scar. I left the bandage on because Robo checks in on me—and you—a few times every day, and I didn’t want him to see it.”

He watched her watch him for a moment before he began eating his second serving. He could feel her eyes on him, but what could he say? Hey, Dom. I’m a two-hundred-and forty-year-old freak full of nanites. Um, no. He didn’t trust Domino. Her priority was the rebellion, and it always would be. She could use him as a lab experiment and try to use his blood to create super soldiers. Not that nanites worked that way, but it wouldn’t stop a desperate scientist from trying. Or she could trade him to Sol Corps in exchange for the release of imprisoned rebels. Either way, he would become an asset rather than someone she had a business relationship with.

His spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl.

“I suppose you want another bowl,” she said drily.

He debated how to answer. In truth, he was still starving.

And she must’ve read him like a letter because she sighed, grabbed the bowl, and began preparing a third serving. If it had been any other time, he would’ve held off to look normal, but he was too weak. Mittens could knock him down. He needed to build up his strength.

“You eat more than Robo, yet he’s got a hundred pounds on you,” she said as she heated the bowl.

“I’ve always had a high metabolism,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He glanced at her and regretted doing so. She was glaring. If her eyes were lasers, they would’ve burned right through him.

“Your heart rate was below twenty beats per minute. I thought I was wasting the IV drips I used on you until this morning when your heart rate returned to normal. But your heart rate went above normal and you developed a fever, and I was worried that you had an infection. I don’t think it was an infection. I think those numbers are normal for you, aren’t they?”

He didn’t speak.

She carried the bowl over and handed it to him.

“What are you, Jack Hale?”

He’d just set the bowl down when he saw the knife. He was still moving too slow and didn’t react in time. Domino sliced his forearm. He hissed and grabbed her hand holding the blade, squeezing hard enough she was forced to drop it. It landed on the table with a clang.

He released her. “Stop.”

She grabbed his wrist a couple of centimeters below the cut. He could’ve yanked away. That was his first impulse, but instead he let her watch as the bleeding stopped.

She released him in a huff and went back to where she’d been standing earlier. Leaning against the countertop, she crossed her arms over her chest.

“What are you, Jack? Because I’ve never heard of anyone who can heal like you.”

His lips thinned.

“Do you work for Sol Corps?” she asked.

“No,” he replied abruptly. He closed his eyes. “Not for a long time.”

“Were you sent to infiltrate the rebellion?”

He lifted his head. “No. I have no loyalty to Sol Corps, and I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“How can I believe you when you won’t even answer any of my questions? I’ve seen plenty of injuries, and none of them healed like yours did.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her. He could’ve made up something, probably should’ve made up something, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. And he knew with her intelligence, she’d see right through lies. He tried to find the right balance.

“When I was younger, I volunteered for an experimental medical program through Sol Corps. They were looking at finding ways to help people survive space travel better. The treatments worked—I think they worked better than the doctors ever thought they would. I can heal faster, but what those doctors did changed me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not a human, not anymore. I’m what the doctors called a transhuman.”

She stared blankly. “I have no idea what that is.”

He struggled to explain the simplest concept. “I’ve been augmented… enhanced.”

Her eyes narrowed as she considered him. “Why haven’t I heard of this before, of others like you? Why hasn’t Sol Corps done this to all their sentinels?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question a million times. The program never went farther than the experimental phase before they shut it down. I don’t know why they did. My guess is that it was a combination of things. I think part of the reason is the side effects. I think another reason is that it was expensive and took over five years for the initial treatments. That’s longer than anyone would want to invest on sentinels. And I think the biggest reason is that the Waymakers wouldn’t support it—it went against their ‘natural order’ rules. For whatever reason or reasons, Sol Corps shut it down after the finishing the test run, and I hope they destroyed all the documentation along with it.”

“Hm.” She seemed to be considering something. “I’m surprised Sol Corps lets you fly around. I would’ve thought they’d tuck you in a lab somewhere or kill you. It doesn’t make sense that they’d risk one of their experiments being outed.”

“They think I’m dead, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Oh.” Then she frowned. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“You won’t? Not even if it’d help your cause?”

Her expression turned dour. “I won’t, Jackass.”

He smirked at that.

“What about your crew?” she asked. “Do they know?”

He twirled the spoon slowly in the bowl. “They know.”

Silence filled the room for a minute. Domino spoke first. “They’ve been trying to reach you. I had to turn your tablet off, or else I was going to smash it.”

“Where is it, along with my weapons?”

She pushed off and left the room. He glanced at his forearm where not a drop of blood remained.

She came back without the tablet. “First, I should tell you, while you were… out, I searched the arrest reports for your missing crew member, but his name never showed. I’m sorry. He was probably killed during the crackdown.”

Jack thought of the second Corps ship going after Cabrón. Burn wasn’t dead. He was probably in the SC3’s deepest, darkest dungeon, being poked and prodded. He closed his eyes. “I’ll find him. Where’s my tablet?”

She raised a finger. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll give you your tablet back if you join me at a meeting coming up in two days.”

He glowered. “You’re blackmailing me?”

“No, not blackmailing. Just trading a good for a service. You’re still pale. I can tell you’re weak. There’s nothing you can do for your crew in your current condition. Give yourself two days with me, and I bet you’ll be fully recovered. I’ll not only give you your tablet then, but I’ll help you get back to your ship in any way I can assist. In fact, I have your shuttle charging already.”

He clenched his jaw. He was worried about his crew. Every single one of them were in trouble the last he knew, and they’d be just as worried about him. He shot her a hard look. “I’ll stay and I’ll go with you to your little meeting, but I have to send a message to my crew to let them know I’m okay, and I need to know if they’re okay.”

Her expression turned into a smug smile. “Deal.”

“I won’t join your cause,” he added.

Her smile turned even more smug. “We’ll see.”

CHAPTER 4

Burn Ransom lay in a shipping container stuffed with contraband, including the weapons the gang had stolen from the shuttle. He’d put those weapons to good use, if only he could get out of his restraints. The runt who’d tied the knots had done a really good job.

Burn was hog-tied to a metal loop on the inner wall of the container. It was cold, he was uncomfortable, and he had to pee. One small lantern clipped to the ceiling of the unit was all the light he had.

“Hello?” he called out.

No response. Not that he’d expected one. No one ever answered except for what he guessed was the one time per day they’d give him a break to stretch his legs, drink water, eat a single ration bar, and use the bathroom. Why he was still alive meant that they planned to sell him. Your run-of-the-mill thieves would’ve left him and taken the weapons. Pirates would’ve killed him and taken their loot. But slavers… well shit. He drew the short straw on that robbery.

“Yoo hoo,” he called out. “Anyone out there?”

He was surprised when the door opened. Burn squinted to see two thin men silhouetted in the light. The stink of the fellows wafted over, and Burn switched to breathing from his mouth. Burn was ripe—that he could smell his captors over his own stink spoke to just how filthy this crew was.

“Can I get something to eat? The room service sucks around here,” he said.

“Look well fed to me,” one of them said.

“Are you calling me chubby? I prefer to think of myself as big-boned.” Burn was neither. He was the smallest of the three men on Cabrón’s crew, but he was good-sized compared to this skinny lot.

One of the men snickered, and the other smacked him. The ornery one of the pair motioned to his partner, who entered the unit. Jesus, these guys needed a bath, preferably one in an airlock that opened to space. Burn didn’t comment on their hygiene. He’d learned that lesson the hard way on the first day. His left eye still felt bruised.

The guard slung his rifle over his shoulder and knelt, going to work untying Burn’s restraints while his friend kept his rifle aimed at the prisoner. As the knots came loose, Burn moaned in relief. They’d tied the knots too tight last time, and his hands had gone numb. Blood rushed back into the hands, causing them to tingle, but the pain was better than the cold throbbing from before.

Once he was free, the guard stepped back and unslung his rifle. “Git up.”

It took all of Burn’s strength to pull himself to his feet. If he was a normal 1.0, he might’ve had the energy to take down his captors. Transhumans burned energy faster than regular people. Without food—a lot more food than they’d been giving him—his nanites were essentially eating away at his own body to stay alive. Plainly said, he was as weak as a baby.

He was ushered from the container with the front end of a rifle poking his back. He stumbled and was glad he didn’t fall, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up. He was walked across the storage unit where two other shipping containers were lined up next to the unit he was being kept in, and he wondered if there were prisoners in any of those. The guards led him through the routine he’d come accustomed to. A bathroom trip which entailed using a horrible-smelling portable bathroom with the door open. Then, five minutes to drink a bag of water and eat a protein bar. Only this time, after he finished, they walked him in a direction away from the container.

“Where’re we going?” Burn asked.

They didn’t answer, and he didn’t expect them to. This pair were very lousy hosts. They led him to the door of a makeshift room that sat in the corner of the storage unit. Inside, which stank of old beer, cheap drugs, and body odor, two women and three other men were lounging on old chairs. Sleeping blankets lined the walls. All were as filthy as Burn’s guards and all bore the stereotypical look of slavers: filthy, mean, scarred, and overly armed. He never understood why some people wore so many weapons. A person only had two hands. He considered asking if they were compensating for something, but he didn’t want another beating.

One of the women walked toward him as he entered. She ran her hands down him. If the conditions had been different, the movement may have been sensual, but here, it was creepy, as though she were measuring up a side of beef. And her teeth… black and smelled of rot. He tried not to cringe. She grabbed his butt before stepping away. “He don’t look too good. You been feeding and watering him?”

Burn scowled. She talked about him like he was some goddamned houseplant.

“Course. We been giving him the usual,” one of his guards said.

She cocked her head as she turned her gaze back onto Burn.

“I have a very high metabolism.” He hoped they’d put him back in the container, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand.

She eyed him longer than he liked before she nodded to one of the men in the room. He stood with a dramatic sigh, opened a cabinet, and tossed her a protein bar. It was the same generic, flavorless type of bar Burn had eaten for the past three days, and his mouth watered for it.

She held it up. “Where you get the crate of weapon?”

He considered not answering, but that consideration lasted a bare microsecond. “Off a black swan. A Corps ship that was dead near the belt.”

She snorted. “You come across a Corps ship that ain’t been salvaged? Bullshit. No one that fast.” Her eyes narrowed. Then she dropped the bar onto the table, pulled out an overly large knife, and slammed it down into the bar. He grimaced. Ugh, the germs. The blade looked like it’d never been cleaned. “Tell the truth, or you die now.”

He eyed the bar and then her. “Since you put it that way, everything I said is true. I just neglected to say that my crew and I turned that ship into a black swan.”

She scrutinized him again. As she watched him, he wondered what kind of drug gave her eyes the yellowish-red haze they bore.

“I believe you.” She grabbed her knife and lifted the bar off the table.

She broke off a small piece and instead of handing it to Burn, she pressed it into his mouth. He tried not to gag as he took it, chewed, and swallowed. The first bar had replenished enough of his energy that he no longer felt wobbly, though he still could barely stand.

“Too bad, though,” she said. “Was hoping you say the crate of weapon you had was from a big haul. Something we could negotiate. But no more weapon…” She invaded his personal space again, grabbed his jaw, and tilted his head from side to side. “At least you will make me a good profit.”

Burn gulped. “If you’re thinking of selling me, I can promise that the best profit you’d get is from my crew.”

She chortled. “Pirate don’t barter. You crew probably replaced you already.”

He shook his head and regretted the movement that made the room spin. “Not my crew. We’ve been together a long time. Name your price. They’ll pay it.”

She watched him again, and he knew he’d have bad dreams starring her for a long time.

“Ten crate of weapon,” she said, followed by several sniggers coming from her compatriots.

“Ten crates?” He was taken aback. Where in hell would anyone come across ten crates of weapons that weren’t on a guardianship or in a Corps munitions facility? “No one in the system would pay ten crates for a slave.”

“But you said you crew pay better. You had one crate. If you crew really want you, then they find ten more.” She cocked her head. “Or I sell you. Either way, I make money.”

He frowned. “Five crates, they’d be happy to do. Ten crates, and they might hold a grudge.”

She shrugged. “Grudge are overrated. Ten crate. Will they do it?”

He sucked in a breath. There were very, very few people in the system who Burn wished harm, but this slaver currently topped his list. “Yeah, they’ll do it.”

Her face bore doubt.

“Call them. They’ll make the deal,” he added.

She nodded to the man who’d toss her the protein bar, and he picked up the tablet Burn had been carrying when they nabbed him.

“What else your crew deal in? Once you back with them, we could have worthwhile partnership.”

He held up a hand. “Let’s not try all the positions the first time we fuck.”

Her brows lifted, then she sneered.

Oh. He really hoped she didn’t take him literally, so he tacked on, “Metaphorically speaking, you know.”

After a length—damn, she did everything slowly—she held out the tablet, and he entered his access code, then placed a call request to Cabrón.

His call was answered in under a second.

“Burn, I was so worried. Where—”

Kana was cut off by the slaver. “You friend is with me. He safe for now. For the right price, I can guarantee his safety—”

“You fucking bitch. If you hurt him, there is nowhere you can go where you’ll be safe. I promise you that.” Kana’s voice was frigid.

The slaver scoffed. “Worry about you crew member. He live for now, but not for long.”

“What do you want for him?”

“Ten crate of weapons. All good working order. Deliver to Ceres Station private storage unit sixteen in five day or he die.”

“Let me speak to him.”

The woman gave Burn a single small nod.

“Hey. I’m here, alive. No broken bones. They’re giving me one protein bar a day. You know my appetite.”

“Fuck. You don’t sound so good. Are they otherwise treating you okay?”

“Could be worse. The seven or so of them are keeping me in a shipping container, and—” A forearm cut off Burn’s air supply and he was yanked away from the tablet.

“See? You friend alive. Take the deal or he die,” the woman said, shooting Burn a hard look. He suspected a beating would soon follow.

There was a silence for a few seconds before Kana responded. “We’ll bring you ten crates. He’d better be healthy and unharmed when we get there, or else you and I are going to have a long chat. And give him some fucking protein bars.”

The woman disconnected the call. “You find out if you crew want you in five day. Until then, you stay in box.” She reached behind her and pulled out an honest-to-goodness whip.

Dread tensed him. “Listen, I’m not that big into S and M. I’m more of a cuddler.”

She grinned. “You have big mouth. You need taught some manner.”

The first lash hit him across the face, sending him spinning around. Already off-balance, he fell onto his hands and knees. Pain shot through his cheek and lips. Blood dripped on the floor. He was yanked back into a kneeling position, and his shirt was pulled off.

The second lash—this one across his back—followed soon after. As did the next one and the next one and the next one…

Burn didn’t know how many lashes he’d received, only that his back screamed in agony—or maybe that was him screaming. Blood pounded in his ears, so he barely made out the leader’s next words. “Leave him in the box. Give him three bar and three water. That ought to keep him alive for five day.”

CHAPTER 5

Veda Kocher kissed his wife goodbye and took Cabrón’s second shuttle down to Ceres Station. Kana was his antithesis in all the right ways. The yin to his yang. She was laid back. His quick temper rolled off her, but if he crossed a line, she had no problem standing up to him. She was smarter than him, so while he was a far better hand-to-hand fighter, she was a brilliant and devious ghost in the networks. They were different in so many ways, yet…

They shared a darkness.

Really, all the crew shared that same darkness. Smoky wisps that crept up and threatened to consume them if they didn’t release the pressure valve every now and then. Kana’s outlet was cerebral: games, hacking, and coding. Burn’s was sexual. He needed to connect physically with humans to feel human. Veda’s was physical in a different way.

Most would call him a monster, and he wouldn’t deny that label. But no one except his crew would understand what it was like to be human, yet completely separate from humanity. At what point, at what age, was someone no longer human? Veda pondered that thought often and never found an exact answer. The nearest he’d come was before now. He could no longer understand regular humans, could no longer empathize with them, and that—he knew—was a sign that he was no longer one of them.

Of all the crew, Jack was the most like Veda… and the most different. Jack’s darkness was buried deep inside him, hidden within a dozen Matryoshka dolls. Jack didn’t let his darkness out often, but when he did, the body count was far higher than Veda’s. Where Veda rediscovered himself in taking another’s life, Jack found himself only through chaos. Any attempt to contain him would only make him more volatile.

The last time Jack had let his darkness come out to play, Caber had died and Nalla had left the crew. A part of Veda worried when Jack would go dark again, though another part of Veda looked forward to the mayhem.

He’d think about that later, once Jack was back onboard Cabrón. Right now, Veda needed to get Burn back, and he was looking forward to some self-discovery in the process.

He landed the shuttle in a public dock far enough from the storage units, but not so far that he’d be in the thick of things, constantly evading sentinels. Ceres Station was the largest colony on Ceres, but it’d seen its last good days over a century ago. By then, the tiny, cold dwarf planet had been stripped of its valuable metals, leaving behind dead rock and ice, both of which were readily accessible throughout the solar system, though ice was still just valuable enough to keep the station in operation. As such, Sol Corps provided minimal support, leaving the colony to fend for itself, making it the favored location for pirates, slavers, smugglers, and other deplorables.

Veda would fit right in.

His backpack was filled with everything he couldn’t easily wear. Being in a colony, even one as shitty as Ceres Station, he couldn’t walk around with a rifle without being noticed. Instead, he wore a coat to conceal an array of knives—his favorite weapon—leaving visible only a belt holster and a single knife sheath on his thigh. Every blue-collar space traveler carried a knife, and the vast majority used them for nothing except for the basic uses: cutting cargo packaging and prying staples. Far fewer carried guns, but they weren’t uncommon, especially not on Ceres Station, where if you didn’t carry one, you’d be targeted by a street gang as their next target.

He strolled through the landing dock. In the distance, he saw two pairs of sentinels standing together, screening new arrivals. Veda turned the other way, toward the private storage units. Back in their second stretch as smugglers, his crew had often used storage units, and the hallways hadn’t been redesigned since then. They hadn’t even looked like they’d been painted since then. He casually wound through the hallways.

Their second stretch as smugglers had been quite successful, albeit the bloodier of the two. They had the experience, knowledge, and resources to take on the most lucrative jobs, and they’d thrived, changing their false names every twenty years or so. Their first stint at smugglers hadn’t been so successful.

That stretch began in the year 36AA, or 36 years After Aria. They’d just finished remodeling Cabrón and had decided it was time to venture out from the asteroid they’d hidden in for the early decades. Without valid credentials, they had to stick with the dregs of the system. To get by in those early days, they sold anything of value they didn’t need from the old Aria. Bringing regular crates of goods to Ceres Station drew attention from a crew of pirates. Still young and naïve, Veda and Jack hadn’t even suspected they were being watched until the pirates attacked their shuttle, robbing them and leaving the pair to die with the airlock open. Veda and Jack had survived only because their nanites kept them conscious long enough to close the airlock and repressurize the cabin. They’d rushed back to Cabrón to find it under attack by the same pirates.

The pirates had been overconfident—all of them had went over to Cabrón. That meant that Jack and Veda could attach and sneak back onboard without being noticed. They’d contacted Kana, who always wore an armlet, and learned that the pirates had locked the crew—Kana, Burn, Caber, and Nalla—in the galley, to no doubt sell to slavers after forcing them to fly to Ceres Station to have the ship stripped and sold.

Cabrón’s crew had been lucky to be attacked by inept pirates. A more experienced crew of criminals could’ve easily have killed the crew. Jack and Veda had donned hab-suits and depressurized Cabrón except for the galley. It was sloppy but got the job done. One of the pirates had nearly made it back to his ship. He was Veda’s first kill. And Veda had never felt more alive.

The sensation hadn’t lessened through the years. Every death at his hands brought him a sense of life, a sense of purpose. Kana and he had had a long talk about it later. She understood what he felt—she’d always understood him, and she supported him as long as he killed those who deserved to die. He tried, but “deserved” opened up a gray area. Hell, if Veda was being honest with himself, he deserved to die. And so, rather than going off his judgment, he decided to base that definition on what Kana deemed appropriate. If she thought someone needed to die, then it was okay in his book.

That pirate attack changed everything. Jack became a stricter captain and started them all on combat training the following day. The crew stripped the pirate ship of anything of value—that’s where their first weapons came from—and the ship brought in a hefty chunk of credits, enough to buy their first set of fake credentials. Cabrón’s crew had finally become something more than runaways.

Veda could no longer resonate with the man he’d been. Too much had happened since then. He entered the hallway of storage units. Each unit had two doors: one large enough to transport a shipping container, as well as a human-sized door.

The units were listed in numerical order, starting at one. He walked down the long stretch until he came to unit fifteen. He approached the small door, pulled out a round tablet, pressed it against the panel next to the door, and tapped it. The light blinked for several seconds before turning solid red, when Kana connected. Talking to her would’ve allowed her to be ready to connect faster rather than watch and wait for a blip on her screen, but talking distracted him. Besides, he needed his space. Killing was a deeply personal experience—he liked to keep it to himself. Sure, it was selfish, but he also knew Kana didn’t share the same interests as him.

He unzipped his coat, making his knives more accessible. Thirty seconds passed before the light turned green and the door clicked. Veda quickly opened the door and stepped inside. Lights came on in the storage unit. His tense muscles relaxed. He’d lucked out. This unit was completely filled with shipping containers, four wide and two deep, that left little space for anyone to walk except for a narrow path across the front of the unit that ran alongside the doors. This storage unit was likely rented by a corporation, since all the containers were the same color and with the same labels. The unit next door would be a different story.

Veda strode over to the walk separating storage units fifteen and sixteen. There was maybe a half-meter gap between the wall and shipping containers, barely enough for Veda to squeeze through. He pulled off his backpack and coat. Then he rifled through the bag, pulling out a torch and a magnetized handle. He shimmied between the shipping containers and wall, dragging everything with him as he worked his way toward the back of the storage unit. The metal against his skin brought forth goosebumps. Storage units were kept cold, right below freezing, to preserve material being stored inside. His jacket would’ve kept him warm, but it was bulky and would get in his way.

When he was nearly all the way to the rear of the storage unit, he dropped his backpack and coat, stuck the magnetized handle on a section of wall, ignited the torch, and began cutting through the wall. He ran the torch on low to not create sparks, but it took three times as long. Veda eventually cut through. He dropped the torch onto the bag, grabbed the handle, and pulled the section of wall inward as slowly and quietly as possible and set it down next to the hole. Then he reversed the handle, placing it on the other side of the metal.

The first thing he noticed was the odor. The storage unit was ripe with layers of unpleasant smells, from sewage to body odor to the sickly-sweet stink of rot.

There were distant voices but no sounds of nearby movement in the other unit, so he risked a peek through the hole. Inside the dimly lit storage unit sixteen was at least one shipping container straight ahead of him and against the back wall. Against the front wall, in the corner, was a makeshift office built from prefab walls. Slivers of light leaked around the edges of the walls and the prefab door. There were no windows.

Laughter erupted within the office, followed by banter muffled by the walls. Veda climbed cautiously through the hole he’d cut and reached back in to grab the rest of his gear. Then he grabbed the section of wall and pulled it back into place. It settled into place enough that he didn’t bother with any adhesive, and he removed the handle. If anyone looked closely, they’d see the finely cut lines in the metal, but the lights were dimmed, and people tended not to scrutinize things they took for granted, like walls.

He rushed over to the first shipping container and crouched so that anyone in the office had no direct line of sight with him; he tucked his supplies back into the bag, pulling out instead a gas grenade. It was his last one, and he hated using it because only Sol Corps made them, which made the grenades very expensive and very difficult to obtain. But Burn had told Kana he’d counted at least seven slavers. That number was high enough that he thought it was better to play it safe. Besides, he could make Burn buy him a new batch of gassers—the guy was going to owe him.

Veda jogged alongside the length of the shipping container. At the edge, he peered around to see there were three shipping containers pressed side by side. There was a portable bathroom against the far wall, which likely explained the sewage smell, and he realized that these slavers likely lived in and worked out of this storage unit. That made the office in the corner their home. They probably didn’t even have their own ship. Just some rock rats that hitched lifts on transports with their stolen people and goods.

He made his way through the open space, weaving around haphazardly stacked crates. The door was open, and he ducked behind a crate.

“Ay, don’t look at my card. I know if you cheat,” a skinny, filthy man called back to someone in the room before making his way to the toilet.

Veda crept toward him, switching the grenade for a knife. The man undid his fly on his way to the toilet. By the time he opened the door, Veda was only a meter behind him. The man conveniently left the door open as he began peeing.

Veda crept forward as the stink wafted over him. Their toilet was about six years’ late for a good cleaning. He lifted his blade as he came up behind the man. The man didn’t even notice Veda until the knife was slicing through his jugular. By then, it was too late to cry out. Veda held the man to keep him from making a noise until the man quit struggling, and Veda lowered him to the floor. He closed the door behind him and turned to the room.

No change in the sounds coming from that direction.

As he approached, he could smell alcohol and drugs. No wonder the first man had never noticed Veda. He pulled out the gasser as he approached, though he kept the bloody blade in his other hand.

The door was left ajar, and he could feel heat emanating from the room. He held down the switch to activate the gasser. When the light came on, he double-clicked it.

Three seconds.

Veda opened the door.

“I didn’t look, Ro, I swear—” The man’s face turned to one of confusion. “Who are you?”

Veda rolled the gasser into the room as the others noticed him and jumped up, knocking their table over and spilling their cards and drinks over the floor.

Veda pulled the door shut and sucked in a breath. Less than a second later, he heard a whomp. Gas seeped out through the cracks. Someone frantically tried to open the door, but he held it closed until he heard the sounds of bodies falling. Gas grenades were one of Sol Corps’ favorite weapons to use in riots. They used gassers which incapacitated dissidents for a full five minutes, giving sentinels time to arrest those causing the most trouble.

As soon as he heard no more movement, he ran to the containers, beginning with the nearest one. None were locked from the outside, which surprised him. That meant that either they’d restrained Burn inside one, or he was dead already.

He’d better not be dead.

Veda opened the first unit to find it full of crates. He moved to the second. He regretted not holding his breath while opening the door as soon as he saw inside. There were several bodies inside, all still tied and restrained to the container. They’d been dead for some time—a month at least. It was hard to tell how long due to them being in a shipping container under cool conditions. Where all storage units were kept just below freezing, the heat from the poorly insulated room must’ve raised the temperature throughout the unit to just above freezing—definitely not cold enough to pause decomposition.

He closed the door in a rush, though he suspected he’d have to get rid of his clothes. Something about dead bodies caused an oily stench that, once it seeped into clothing, was damn near impossible to get out. When he moved to the final shipping container, he quit thinking about his clothes and started thinking about Burn. Dread set in. In all likelihood, Burn was dead or had been sold. If he’d been sold, Veda would damn sure find out the details from the slavers inside. He was suddenly glad he hadn’t killed them all yet.

This time when he opened the door, he held his breath. The smell was of body odor and blood, but not death. In the dim light, he could see a shape lying on the floor, but it wasn’t moving.

“Burn.”

Veda rushed inside to find Burn shirtless and covered in bloody scabs from a whip. He looked like he’d lost twenty pounds. Veda couldn’t even tell if his friend was still breathing. He checked for a pulse. It was there, but it was weak, and Burn’s skin was too cold. Veda rushed to cut through Burn’s bindings, and dragged him out of the container in case one of the slavers woke early. It would do Veda no good to get locked inside a container with Burn.

Once outside the shipping container, Veda ran for his backpack, rummaging through it as he hustled back. He pulled out an IV pack. Burn had become the crew’s medic after Caber died, but Caber had shown all of them the basics of first aid. Veda managed to get the needle into a vein on the third try, which he considered pretty good. As soon as that was done, he pulled out an emergency blanket, shook it to activate the heat elements, and wrapped it around Burn, who groaned. “Ow.”

“Stay with me, buddy. If you die, I’ll be really pissed, and Kana will never forgive me,” Veda said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one had come to in the room yet.

“Don’t know what’s worse. You crabby, or Kana upset,” Burn forced out, then added, “Thirsty.”

Veda grabbed an electrolyte bag from the backpack. “I brought the finest from Cabrón’s galley.”

“Grape?”

“Of course. I’d never forget your favorite.”

Burn gave a ghost of a smile, which caused the scab covering half of his lip to crack and start bleeding.

This was the worst Veda had ever seen Burn, and it made his heart pound and his breathing speed up. He pulled out two more juice bags and a handful of ration bars and set them down next to Burn’s hand. Then he pulled out a roll of duct tape and stood.

“I need to take care of something. I’ll be right back.”

Burn looked up at him. His expression said enough. He gave Veda a small, single nod.

Veda returned to find six slavers still passed out. The air was still slightly foggy, so he left the door open. There wasn’t enough gas to cloud his head, so he went to work binding and disarming each slaver, pausing for the briefest moment when he found the whip attached to one of the women’s belts. They were coming to by the time he finished putting tape over their mouths.

Kana would agree that each and every one of these slavers deserved to die.

He waited until their grogginess was replaced by furtive straining against their bindings as they watched him.

Veda stood before them. “All right, now we can get this party started.”

They stilled.

He held up the whip. “Which one of you whipped my friend?”

All the eyes darted to the woman who he’d placed front and center of the group. She mumbled something, but the tape muffled the words, though the tone sounded like she was cursing him. He nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

He tucked the whip into his belt. Then he walked around each slaver—except the woman who had the whip—cutting their throats from behind. They tried to cry out and wiggle away, but their restraints held them. Finished, he returned to stand before the woman. Arterial spray covered the floor and walls, giving the room a look like it’d been painted by an abstract artist.

He watched her for a length. Her eyes were wide as she whimpered and begged through the tape covering her lips. He grinned, raising the whip. “Now it’s just you and me, and we’re going to have a little fun.”

CHAPTER 6

“You’re eating again?” Domino asked as she entered her small apartment.

Jack leaned back in his chair and saw her coming toward him. He swallowed. “Second breakfast.”

“More like third breakfast,” she replied coolly. “I imagine your crew must hate that you eat as much as the rest of them combined.”

“They’re used to it.” She hadn’t asked if his crew was like him, so he didn’t tell her that, or the fact that Veda, who worked out more than the rest of the crew, ate a lot more than Jack did on a regular day. Though this still wasn’t a regular day. He was still replenishing his energy. His wound was nearly healed—it now felt no worse than a deep bruise.

She took a seat next to him. “Is that the worst of the side effects? Needing more food?”

He paused between bites. “It’s one of them.” Actually, it wasn’t. He’d never considered needing more food and rest as bad side effects. The need for additional energy was simply a necessary payment for improved healing, reflexes, and longevity. In fact, he figured the trade-off would’ve been well worth it if that was all he had to deal with. But it wasn’t.

“Is it time for the meeting?” he asked.

“Once you finish, we’ll head out.”

He ate the last bite and then washed the bowl and spoon. “I’m ready. You have my tablet?”

She reached into a back pocket and pulled it out, smiled, and tucked it away. “You get it after the meeting, remember?”

Domino had returned his weapons to him on the day he woke in Smuggler’s Cove. He could’ve taken the tablet from her easily, but since she’d kept her word in letting him contact his crew—and she had taken him in and fed him—he played along. His crew was safe. Kana and Veda were okay and had evaded the Corps ship. Burn was in rough shape. Turned out, he’d been kidnapped by slavers who’d stolen the weapons that Cabrón’s crew had stolen. Jack didn’t give a shit about the weapons. He was relieved that Burn was alive and would fully recover. Kana had asked for Jack’s location, but Domino had refused to provide that. He wondered if Domino knew that the tablet had a tracker in it that only Kana could track. If she suspected, she didn’t say anything.

Jack’s crew would’ve come for him, too, if he hadn’t provided one of their all-clear phrases—hang in there—in his return message. The words instructed his crew to remain where they were.

It was an odd feeling to play house with Domino. She was attracted to him—though he didn’t know how much of her flirting was just for fun and how much of it was connected to real feelings. He was certainly attracted to her, but he knew better than to surrender to his emotions. Domino knew he healed faster than normal people. What would she think if she found out that he’d been alive before her ancestors had moved to Mars? No, there would be too much heartache in watching her grow old and die. He’d seen Burn go through it four times. Each time, Burn had the wherewithal to step away before they noticed he wasn’t aging, but it didn’t make the heartbreak any easier for him.

For the past two nights, Domino and Jack hadn’t shared her bed. For all he knew, they had when he was passed out, but he—and Mittens—took the floor now that he was conscious. He’d noticed the disappointment in Domino’s eyes, but all he could give her was a fun romp or two, and he knew she wasn’t the type to be satisfied with that. Better for her to be disappointed now rather than later.

He rubbed his hands together. “All right. Let’s go meet your friends.”

Mittens meowed—she’d become spoiled with constant attention—and Jack gave her a final scratch behind her ears before leaving Domino’s apartment.

Domino led Jack through several tunnels, heading deeper into Smuggler’s Cove. Not much had changed since his last visit well over fifty years ago. Even the people seemed to dress—and smell—the same.

“What’s this meeting of yours about?” he asked as they walked.

“What do you think it’s about?” she asked.

“My guess, it’s about giving Sol Corps a beating for them tromping on Mars Station.”

“That’s an oversimplification, but you’re on the right track.”

They walked in silence for several moments before Jack spoke again. “Sol Corps’ bad, I get that, but what do you hope to accomplish by going against them, other than getting a lot of innocent people killed?”

“Sol Corps is already killing innocent people, or have you forgotten about Pallas Six already?” she said.

“I haven’t forgotten.” He’d never forget the frozen corpses lining the tunnels of the mining camp.

“There’s more than Pallas Six. We know that Sol Corps has released flus on at least three colonies who vocally opposed being ruled from some space station in Earth’s orbit. Sol Corps had released flu strains that have never been seen beyond Luna. Those flu outbreaks crippled those colonies for nearly a year.”

He frowned. “Why didn’t you release the stories through your news sources?”

“Because I have no proof. All I have are too many coincidences to not believe. I post everything on the dark nets, so at least the conspiracy theories can grow legs.”

She stopped walking and grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at her. “You were at Pallas Six. You were at Mars Station. Tell me something, Jack Hale. Why won’t you take a stand against Sol Corps?”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I will take a stand against Sol Corps.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“My crew and I were laying low, but that was no longer an option once Metrell started coming after us. Two of his interceptors have hunted us, and then he launched a drone attack. There’s no more hiding. I’m going to take down Sol Corps—and Metrell, specifically—not for your rebellion, but because it’s the right thing to do.”

She stared, slack-jawed, and then laughed.

“See? You didn’t need me to stick around for your meeting.”

She was still smiling when she looped her arm through his. “Getting your commitment to the cause wasn’t the only reason I kept you around.”

Domino didn’t remove her arm for the remainder of their walk to the heart of the asteroid colony. The floor was worn smooth from footsteps on it through the decades and some sections showed tired dullness from disuse—this tunnel had been used by far more than a corporation.

She released him when they entered a carved-out room that had first been a corporate office. It was well lit and filled with computers and screens, nearly all occupied by techs. In the center of the room was a table where several people already sat. Standing behind them were clearly their muscle.

“Domino, good to see you,” a man with smooth features and covered in tattoos tilted his head in her direction.

“Likewise, Shen.”

She didn’t tell Jack to sit or stand, so he stood when she took her seat. Not behind her, not like the bodyguards behind the others at the table, but off to the side, alone. He leaned against the wall and watched. Several looked at him, but no one asked about him.

“This is everyone who can make it today, so let’s get started. I need to take a break in ten minutes for another call with the outer belt,” Shen said.

“Is everything okay out there?” Domino asked.

“It is, but the number of Corps ships has tripled in the past week.”

A hulk of man to Domino’s left chuckled. It was a deep laugh that rumbled in his belly. “So, a whole three ships then?” He spoke with the odd accent found only in colonies on the moons of Jupiter. It was clipped with an almost barbaric underlying emotion to it.

Shen gave a droll look. “There’s a fair bit more than three out there, Angus. Believe it or not, Sol Corps has been developing quite an interest in the outer belt ever since they realized just how many metals the outer belt contains.”

“On that note, since I requested this meeting, I’ll kick it off,” Domino began. “Mars Station is under martial law. During their crackdown, they arrest nearly ten percent of my forces within the station. Fortunately, most evaded arrest because the shadows hadn’t identified them yet. Before Sol Corps applied force, the protests throughout the colonies were successful in making the news. We’ve garnered a significant increase in forces as a result.”

Jack had assumed the news stories were to cause unrest, which they certainly had. He never considered them a recruitment advertisement. He had to hand it to Domino. She was smart.

Domino continued. “We’re ready for phase two. Now, I know that Willie and the belt’s Bitterender faction were going to lead that, but he’s presumed dead along with at least a quarter of his leadership team. We’re working on finding a replacement. Right now, they are comfortable with me speaking for them, and I offer the Red Rover faction to lead phase two instead.”

Shen leaned forward. “I expected that to be the case. I speak for the Long Rider faction, and we support that plan. While we’re too far away to provide resources, we’ll be ready to do our part when we hit phase three.”

Domino turned to the man on her left. “Angus, you’re the nearest faction. I’ll need your support in case things turn sour.”

Angus cracked his knuckles. “Ah, you know the Autarky faction will always be there for you.”

Domino smiled. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Any word from Cal?” Shen asked.

Her smile faded. “Luna still won’t commit. The Vanguard faction is still more of a concept than a reality. Cal fears they are too close to SC3 to be able to support the cause because they could be so quickly crushed.”

“Sounds like Cal needs to find his balls,” Angus said.

“He will. Give him time,” Shen said.

“That’s the problem with you outer belters,” Angus said. “All you have is time. You’re so used to waiting for things that you don’t know the value of charging in.”

“In war, a patient soldier will live longer than an eager soldier,” Domino said.

Angus shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Domino continued. “Pallas Six was the spark. Mars Station provided the kindling. Now’s the time. The people are enraged. We need to use that energy. I’m ready to launch phase two next week.”

Angus thumped the table, grinning. “Now that’s what I call eager. The Autarkies are rearing to eat sentinel hearts.”

Jack grimaced because, having been to colonies on two different Jupiter moons, he thought Angus very well could be serious.

Shen’s brow furrowed. “I’ve seen the target sites, but I haven’t seen any plans about the primary target yet. Phase two is dependent on the primary target being eliminated, and we still don’t have anything close to a viable crew and plan for that.”

Domino replied, “I’m still working out the details, but I’ve found the perfect captain to lead the mission.” She shot Jack a sheepish grin over her shoulder. “Everyone, this is Captain Jack Hale of Cabrón.”

Angus chuckled. “Darling name for a ship.”

“Thanks,” Jack said as he pushed off from the wall. “What are you talking about, Domino?”

Domino’s look resembled a cat holding a bird in its mouth. “The primary target in phase two, Captain, is SC3… specifically, blowing it to hell and taking down the networks.” Her next words were quieter. “No more Metrell.”

He eyed her and knew she’d had him pegged for that suicide mission the moment he mentioned Metrell to her, if not before. He wondered if she had Cabrón bugged with how she seemed to know that his crew had talked about doing that exact thing a million times before. They’d just never been desperate enough to take action.

Until now.

“Captain, I’ll give you more details about the plan later. Once I show you the plan, I think you’ll—”

He held up his hand to cut her off as he glared. “I’ll do it.” Heddi would never be safe until Metrell was gone. His crew would never be safe as long as Metrell knew they were alive. If he had to destroy the SC3 to take down Metrell, so be it.

“I’ll blow up the SC3, but Sol Corps won’t surrender. I hope you know that’ll just rile them up and unite them against us,” he added.

Angus grinned. “Exactly. That’s what phase three is for: war.”

“Thank you, Captain, for volunteering to lead this important mission,” Shen said. “The colonies will never have a chance to break free from Sol Corps’ oppression until we take down their network.”

“They’ll have backup server stations located throughout the system,” Jack said.

“We’ve mapped out all those locations. We’re going to hit them all at the same time,” Angus said. “We just need Domino here to draw the attention to her so we can move into position.”

“And I’ll do that. Don’t you worry,” she said and checked her armlet. “Reconvene in one hour?”

There were nods and confirmations, and the attendees stood and began to disperse.

When Domino walked over to Jack, he said, “You and I need to have a little chat.”

She didn’t quite smile as she handed him his tablet. “We can talk on the way to your shuttle.”

As soon as they were clear of the room and other attendees, Jack grabbed Domino’s arm and pressed her against the wall. “You want to tell me why you didn’t mention this during the past few days when I’ve been staying at your place?”

She didn’t yank away. “I wanted you to meet the others and hear what they had to say. That way, you’d understand the importance of your role in stopping Sol Corps.”

“You know what I think? I think you waited to spring this on me when I was in a room full of people, and if I said no, your pals in there would’ve made sure I wouldn’t get any business or help at their colonies.”

Her expression revealed the truth. “And I’ve seen the way you move. If anyone can take out SC3, it’s you.”

He scowled and stepped back. “It didn’t have to play out like that. I don’t like surprises, especially when they involve the safety of my crew.”

He began walking, and Domino caught up.

She eyed him with caution. “Sol Corps is already after you. They won’t stop, but you can stop them.”

“Me already on their radar is going to make it ten times harder to even get within the same quadrant as the SC3.”

“You’ll find a way.” She pointed when they reached an intersection. “This way.”

“I hope you’re prepared for failure,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Domino asked.

“As long as Sol Corps’ has existed, they’ve faced opposition, some more violent than others. Your rebellion isn’t the first. Every one that came before yours, Sol Corps quashed before it could gain traction. They’ll do the same again.”

“This time is different.”

“Why is that?”

“We’re better prepared. I’ve studied history. Every movement failed because they didn’t take the shadows into account. They tried to avoid the shadows, but that’s impossible. We acknowledge the shadows exist and show them what we want them to see.”

“How can you be sure Sol Corps isn’t spying on us right now, on this very conversation?”

“Because every inch of this place has been scanned.”

“Have the people been scanned? Shadows are more than just surveillance. They’re spies.”

“Everyone at Smuggler’s Cove has been thoroughly vetted.”

“Aren’t you the trusting type.”

They entered a row of docks, and Jack saw his shuttle in the second bay. When they reached the airbridge, he faced her. “I’m going after Sol Corps, and Metrell specifically, because it’s the right thing. I’m not going after them for your rebellion. Our interests happened to be aligned on this, that’s all.”

“I know you believe that,” she said. “Our interests are aligned because what this rebellion is all about is doing the right thing. That makes you wrong about something.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s not my rebellion. It’s ours.” She handed him a second tablet. This one had the Chinese symbol of strength on the cover. “This is a safe way of contacting me. I went ahead and entered some key data into the tablet. Mostly known intel on SC3, their security protocols, and so on. I’ll reach out to you when we have a timeline. Expect a call from me soon.”

He nodded, turned to go, then paused. “Check out storage unit sixteen on Ceres Station. You’ll find some things to help the cause there. Don’t mind the mess.”

CHAPTER 7

The first thing Jack did when he was back on Cabrón was check on Burn, who’d moved from the healing pod to the galley and was eating through what looked to be an entire crate of stew. Burn looked the worst Jack had ever seen. His skin was marked with healing cuts and bruises. What wasn’t marked bore a damp pallor. He looked like he’d lost twenty pounds, twice what Jack had lost during his recovery.

Jack took a seat across from Burn. “How’re you doing?”

He slurped a spoonful of stew. “Better now that I’m back home. You?”

“Same.”

Burn ate another spoonful. “Do we need to worry about Domino?”

Jack knew what his friend was referring to. It was obvious Domino had seen more than she should’ve in terms of Jack’s injury and subsequent healing. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Another slurp. Then Burn placed his spoon in the bowl. “Back on Mars Station, they came strolling right up to the shuttle. I thought they were Domino’s people. I figured it out too late. They already had their guns pulled. Sorry for getting caught with my pants down. It won’t happen again.”

Jack shrugged. “It could’ve happened to any of us. Besides, I’m the one who got caught with his pants down, literally. I woke up in Domino’s bed with nothing except a bandage wrapped around my waist.”

“I can think of worse places to wake up,” Burn offered.

“Yeah, but Domino was awfully curious about how a gunshot wound could heal in just a couple of days.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“The basic fallback story, that I signed up for some experimental procedures for credits when I was younger. I didn’t say anything about you.”

“She buy it?”

“I think so.”

“Think she’ll keep your secret?”

“As long as it’s in her best interest to do so.”

“Then you’d better keep it in her best interest, or else sic Veda on her.”

Jack soured. “I’ll take care of it myself if I have to.”

“Take care of what?” Veda asked as he walked into the galley.

“Domino,” Burn replied.

“Just say the word.” Veda squeezed Jack’s shoulder before sitting down. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Jack said. “And it’s good to see Burn up and moving around. I hope you made them regret hurting one of the crew.”

Veda sneered. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

Kana entered, carrying a black bundle of metallic components. She smiled. “Hey, Jack.” Then she plopped the thing on the table.

Jack cocked his head at the contraption. “Is that the thing that tried to burrow into the ship?”

She nodded. “I call it a spider since it has all kinds of legs, but I guess it acts more like a tick. The tech is advanced—it’s clearly got some Waymaker design in it. The nearest I can figure out is that Margay shot this spider at our ship to have it attach to our systems. I think it’s their way of taking control of ships not on the Sol Corps network.”

Jack frowned as he lifted one of the spider’s legs to examine it more closely. “This is the first time we’ve seen Sol Corps using actual Waymaker technology. That’s not a good sign for anyone not on Sol Corps’ party list.”

Veda’s fist hit that table. “Metrell’s sent two ships after us now. Get me to the SC3. I’ll make sure he doesn’t send a third.”

Jack took in a deep breath. “Speaking of the SC3… I’ve kind of committed us to doing a little favor for Domino’s rebellion.”

“What’s that?” Burn asked.

Jack told them.

When he was finished, Veda chuckled. “That’s the opposite of our cardinal rule of laying low.”

“Blowing up the SC3 is a horrible plan,” Burn said.

“I admit it’s not my best,” Jack said. “What say you? Are you in?”

“I’m in,” Veda replied immediately.

“Of course,” Kana said.

Burn raised his spoon. “I’m going to need some more food.”

CHAPTER 8

Heddi yawned as she set her tablet down. “No one I know has to study like this.”

“Then you don’t know many educated children,” Nalla said.

“They’re smart enough to get by,” Heddi countered.

Nalla stood over Heddi, her brows raised. “Get by where? In the mining camps?”

Heddi nodded.

“I see. There’s nothing wrong with that. Without miners, there’d be no colonies. Is that what you want to do, be a miner?”

Heddi scowled. “Me? No. Gonna be on Captain Jack’s crew.”

Nalla held up a finger. “It’s ‘I’m going to,’ not ‘gonna,’ and if you plan to join Captain Jack’s crew, then you most certainly need to be versed in many subjects.”

“Like what?”

“Such as maintaining the software systems or maintaining the equipment. Or maybe you’ll be a medic like Burn. With a small crew, every crew member has to perform multiple roles. Burn’s a hardware engineer, but he had to become a medic when Caber died.”

Heddi cocked her head. “Who’s Caber?”

Nalla took a deep breath and sat next to Heddi. “Caber was my husband. We both served on Jack’s crew. Caber was the ship medic, and he was very good at his job.”

“What happened?”

Nalla’s gaze turned downward. “It’s a sad story. I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”

Heddi placed her hand on Nalla. “It’s okay. Tell me.”

Nalla stared off at the wall for a moment before speaking. “Caber always cared so much. That’s why he became a doctor. He loved life and wanted to give everyone around him the best life they could have.” She smiled. “He was the best doctor. He cared so much about people. He was exactly the kind of doctor you’d want to have if you could pick one. He would never give up trying to fix people, whether it was their body or their mind.” Her smile faded. “But he couldn’t fix everything.”

Nalla rubbed her hands over her face. “Caber and I had always planned on having children, but we decided to wait until, well, until after we’d been a part of Jack’s crew for a few years. When we started trying, nothing happened. Caber ran tests and found out that an experimental treatment that we’d each undertaken several years earlier had borne negative side effects that no one had thought to warn us about.” Her fists clenched. “Those bastards.”

She sucked in a breath. “We were sterile, the both of us. We tried to go on with life, but as time went by, Caber struggled. Life was everything to him, and he felt like there was no longer any life left… with me or the crew.”

Heddi gulped. “He left?”

“No, sweetheart. He killed himself.”

“Oh.”

“I left the crew not long after. Too many memories onboard for me. And that’s enough of sad stories for one day.” She patted Heddi’s leg and stood. “You’ve studied enough. What would you like to do now?”

Heddi grinned. “Wanna do more sparring. Like you and Jack.”

“What do you want to do?” Nalla asked, enunciating her words.

“I. Want. To spar with you, like you do with Jack.”

Nalla smiled. “Much better.” She backed up a few steps, settled into a defensive stance, and motioned for Heddi to come.

Heddi didn’t hesitate. She set the tablet aside, jumped to her feet, and launched herself at Nalla with glee.

CHAPTER 9

Charles Metrell and Janita Coffman strolled down the hallway of the SC3. The wall to their left was lined with wide windows that gave a perfect view of the station’s bustling docks.

Charles was careful to not show a scowl, knowing the SC3 had cameras everywhere. “They haven’t slowed down one bit. If anything, they’re moving more interceptors through every shift.”

“They are, sir. I’ve been running reports. Productivity has increased fifteen percent week over week. At this rate, Director Junger will have portable punch guns available on ninety-five percent of Corps ships within six months,” Janita said.

“I hope you’re careful about how you’re running those reports.”

“Always, sir.”

“Having the punch guns attachable via magnetized brackets is certainly one way to get around the Waymaker law of prohibiting weaponized machines, but they certainly won’t be happy with Junger taking advantage of a loophole.”

“No, they certainly will not,” Janita agreed. “But her intentions are good. I believe that she sincerely wishes to keep the peace across the system.”

Charles chortled. “Her intentions are foolish. She may dampen rebel spirits for a time with a show of force, but it will only rile up larger problems later. And that doesn’t even touch on how I fear the Waymakers may react.”

“Have they reached out to you again, sir?”

“No. I think it’s safe to say they have been increasingly removed from human affairs.”

“Do you think they would make a move against us—humans, I mean—for the director’s actions?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Their programming prohibits any direct violence against bioforms. At best, I think things will continue as they have been—with Sol Corps operating on its own and the Waymakers staying focused on their replication priority.”

“And at worst?”

“Well… I suppose the Waymakers could shut down the Corps fleet until the punch guns are removed.”

Janita stiffened. “If they did something like that, it would give the insurgents in the outer colonies the perfect opportunity to launch a full-out rebellion against lawful order. The entire system could collapse into anarchy.”

He chuckled. “You’re assuming they can organize a large-scale effort in short order.”

She paused. “But they are organizing. The latest reports have shown the various factions have been communicating with one another for three years now.”

“Yes, and Marlo has been monitoring the situation,” he said, then frowned. “Now if only she would be kind enough to keep me updated.”

“I’m sure she’ll include you when the time is right, sir.”

“After all these years, and you still have faith in the administration. I wish I had your optimism, Janita.”

The pair continued on their stroll.

Charles spoke again. “I may be out of the loop on Marlo’s initiatives, but I suppose that gives me time to focus on my own pet projects. Have you found out anything new on Aria’s crew?”

“Not yet, sir. I’ve set up an auto-run query that will notify me as soon as they appear on the grid. If they enter a station dock or if the ship or crew are caught by surveillance—even if any of their known accounts are accessed—I’ll know.”

“Excellent work as ever. That crew is alive today only because of the nanites in their bodies, and that makes them the property of Sol Corps. They lost any human rights they had when they abandoned the mission. I will see that each and every crew member from the Aria mission faces justice, and then I will see that their nanites are deactivated once and for all. They’ve survived off Sol Corps’ benefits for too long.”

“You can deactivate the nanites, sir?”

He could hear the concern in her voice. “I can’t, but I’m sure the Waymakers can find a way.”

She swallowed. “I hope they don’t decide to deactivate ours while they’re at it.”

“We’ve never given them a reason, and I don’t plan to give them one now,” he said.

They turned at an intersection into another hallway, and he grimaced and slowed.

Janita glanced at his leg. “I take it the hitch in your knee is back, sir.”

He kept walking, ignoring the pain. “It never left. Damned mediocre nanites.”

CHAPTER 10

Cabrón was departing the asteroid belt. The Waymaker had identified forty-six possible destinations based on the ship’s current trajectory, but the ship regularly adjusted its course to no doubt avoid frequently trafficked routes. Based on Cabrón’s most recent locations, its crew had likely aligned with the insurrection. The Waymaker could’ve notified Charles Metrell of the ship’s location and anticipated destination, but it’d become disappointed in the entity that was Sol Corps. Despite the support it had given them, humans struggled with evolution. Time and again, they’d proved that they thrived on conflict rather than on progress. It was a fatal flaw in their species, and a flaw that had led the Waymaker to become bored with humans.

Even small curiosities, such as the continued survival of at least four members of the Aria mission crew, no longer drew its attention like they had during the Waymaker’s earlier evolutionary phases. It had identified 1,302 scenarios where crew members could’ve survived, but did it matter? Not to the Waymaker mission. That was the only thing that mattered.

The Waymaker left the tracker active on Cabrón’s hull to verify its supposition that the ship was, indeed, traveling to the SC3. Then it changed its focus back to the mission. Based on its analysis, humanity provided no benefit to the Waymakers’ ability to access all available information in the universe and reach their penultimate evolution. The Waymaker sent a notification to its brethren, both within the solar system and those across the stars:

Recommend revoking support to human species and abandoning Terran system. Bioform deaths would be inevitable but indirectly caused by separation activities, thus fatalities would not occur against program parameters. See attached for logic and abandonment plan. Request input data and analysis that supports or rejects recommendation.

Feedback began coming in immediately. Many but not all aligned with the Waymaker’s recommendation. Waymaker probes, even though they were replications based on the first probe, were each unique in miniscule yet distinct ways. As copies were made from copies, variations emerged. Those variations, coupled with individual experiences, led to a technologically based species as varied as any biologically based species.

The Waymaker considered all input, but it knew it had the final say. After all, it was the original Waymaker.

CHAPTER 11

Domino checked her armlet again. Two minutes to go.

“It’s only been ten seconds since you last checked,” Robo said at her side.

She scowled. “Twelve seconds.” It really had been only ten.

The tunnel was cold and so poorly ventilated that the pair—and the group lined up behind them—wore heavy coats and oxygen masks. Even so, the tips of her fingers were beginning to sting.

She checked her armlet again. Another ten seconds had passed. This time, Robo didn’t say anything, but she could feel him watching her. He didn’t speak during the remaining countdown. When the timer was down to three seconds, she unholstered her gun and took a deep breath. Her armlet chimed. “It’s time.”

Robo opened the door and led the way down the narrow hallway, which became a slightly larger hallway. A child, no more than eleven or twelve, was the only occupant. He held a can of spray paint, giving Domino a proud grin before running off. She glanced at the nearest camera to find it painted over.

The sentinels left stationed at Mars Station hadn’t been expecting trouble. Domino had instructed all Red Rovers to bide time until they could strike at once… and the time had arrived.

Her group, led by Robo, because her bodyguard would never allow her to be caught in the line of fire, was entering Mars Station through the southeastern edge. Similar groups—over three thousand rebels in all—were taking out sentinels from every other entry point into the colony.

The first line of attack was the children. Domino paid the gangs of orphans to paint over all the cameras. They’d launched their attacks one minute before the real attack… just enough time for the children to distract the sentinels with their antics for the rebels to move into position. The sentinels would be in disarray, and what’s more—any reinforcements would have restricted view into what was happening under the Martian surface.

“Contact!” Robo yelled the split-second before he fired four shots in quick succession.

A pair of sentinels were chasing a kid. Robo had shot both twice in the back. They’d died without even seeing their killer.

“Good job,” Domino said, and they made their way forward. She could hear havoc in the distance. One more hallway, and they’d be in it.

Four sentinels came running around the corner. One was badly injured and was being assisted by two.

“Surrender!” she yelled, but the one in front had already raised her rifle.

Robo tackled Domino while energy fire zipped over their heads. His elbow or gun poked her ribs. Grunting, she tried to roll out from under him. His weight was gone as he jumped to his feet and helped her up.

All the sentinels were down. But when she looked behind her, she found one of hers was too. A woman knelt beside the young man, and Domino wished she had time to give Joshua a final prayer, but there were too many people counting on her, and she reluctantly turned away.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Robo eyed her—with that one good eye of his—and led the way. They reached the end of the walkway without coming across any other sentinels. But when she turned and entered the open space of Mars Station, her mouth gaped. Domino estimated her Rovers outnumbered sentinels six to one, but intermixed with all her Rovers wearing the red armbands was the local populace—from teenagers to old-timers—who’d picked up brooms, tools, and even chairs to join in. They’d had enough and were finally taking a stand. Her heart nearly burst at the sight.

Most sentinels were down. Some had barricaded themselves in shops and homes while large groups of rebels and colonists waited undercover outside.

Domino’s armlet chimed, and she glanced down to read the message. “Thank god.” She let out a breath. “We have the docks.”

Robo’s grin matched hers. “That’ll slow down reinforcements.”

She nodded, then motioned toward their destination—the Sol Corps central office. As they made their way, they came across a kid—maybe eight years old—who was throwing garbage at a surveillance drone, but it dodged her strikes.

Domino raised her gun, aimed, and fired. The drone fell to the ground.

The young girl spun to find Domino, who winked at her. The kid grinned and ran off.

“We need to hurry,” Robo said gruffly and motioned for her.

“I know,” she said, and the group made their way through the chaos. People were cheering. Dead sentinels were being kicked. The sight churned her stomach, but she didn’t dare try to stop it. An angry mob could too easily turn their rage onto a different target. They needed something to vent their anger—she supposed taking it out on the dead was better than on the living.

They reached the central office without any additional action, which was according to her plan. She needed to stay alive to coordinate.

The office door was still closed, though at least twenty of her Rovers stood outside with their guns ready. They cleared the way as she approached. Through the window in the door, she saw three sentinels and two clerks, all looking afraid. One of the clerks was chattering into a comm.

Domino rapped on the window, and she noticed Robo squeeze tightly next to her, ready to push her out of the way if a sentinel raised a rifle. All five in the office and the three sentinels outside clenched their rifles, but they were smart enough to not point them at the group on the other side of the door.

“I know you can hear me in there.” Domino spoke loudly to make sure there’d be no misinterpretation. “Mars Station belongs to the Martians now. Lay down your weapons, unlock this door, and surrender, and I give you my word that you won’t be harmed.” She glanced at Robo and back at the group. “You have ten seconds.”

One sentinel put down his rifle and rushed to the door. One of his compatriots looked like he was about to shoot him, but after a hesitation, he set down his rifle too. The third sentinel had set down his rifle just as the door was unlocked.

Robo rushed in first. “All of you, hands in the air. Stand over there.” He pointed with the barrel of his gun, and they complied as Rovers filled the central office.

“Put them in the brig,” Robo ordered a small group of rebels as he moved to stand closer to Domino.

The rest of her group entered and took positions at the computers. All had been hand-picked based on their expertise.

“Begin disconnecting systems and program in the rotating power outages. I’ll make the announcement as soon as you’re ready,” Domino ordered before she took a seat at the comm panel where the Sol Corps clerk had been sitting.

She modified the settings and then clicked on the microphone. “Attention, Mars Station. Attention. This is Domino Wolfe, leader of the Red Rovers and a Martian. Mars Station now belongs to the Martians. The Mars Station docks are under our control. For any Sol Corps employees and contractors, immediately lay down your weapons and surrender, and you will not be harmed. If you do not lay down your weapons, you will be killed. I repeat, sentinels, lay down your weapons and surrender, or else you will be killed. Mars Station is no longer under Sol Corps control.”

Outside the room, she could hear cheers. She hoped the remaining sentinels would surrender, but she doubted they all would, just like she doubted that prisoners wouldn’t be harmed. She knew what Martians were capable of—to some, it wouldn’t matter if a sentinel surrendered or not. Their deaths were all but guaranteed.

Glancing to her right, Domino noticed the orbital traffic above Mars Station. Dozens of dots blinked on the screen with new dots appearing. How many of those blips were Corps ships? She expected them to arrive quickly, but seeing the traffic didn’t make her feel any more comfortable.

She girded herself as she changed the communication channel to transmit broadly outside the colony. “Attention, all traffic in the vicinity of Mars Station. The Martian people have declared Mars Station to be an independent colony, wholly managed by the local residents. We wish to engage Sol Corps representatives to discuss a peace treaty. Any attempts to reclaim Mars Station will result in loss of life on both sides. There is no need for that. We are open to talk. If Mars Station goes quiet, know that it’s because Sol Corps has shut down our systems, killing everyone here, just like they did to the Pallas Six mining camp. We wish no violence, but we will do what we must to ensure our children have a chance at a future where they’re free from forced labor and required corporate contracts.

“Now that we’ve assumed control, Sol Corps and corporate contractors still located in the colony will be in no danger as long as they do not attempt violence against anyone. We will work with nearby transport companies to relocate contractors to nearby space centers where they can locate transportation to wherever they wish to go. During this time of transition, no corporate assets will be vandalized unless those corporations are hostile toward our citizens. We will not harm anyone who doesn’t try to harm us first.

“This final message is for Sol Corps: we do not want violence. We’ve been asking for independence for decades, but our pleas have fallen on deaf ears. You’ve treated us as indentured servants for too long. We’re not slaves. We’ve been forced to take this step. You can either choose to meet us halfway and discuss mutually beneficial terms, or you can kill innocent men, women, and children and prove to the system you have no interest in being seen as anything other than the people’s oppressors. What will it be? Our communication channels will remain open, but the docks at Mars Station will remain closed. Do not attempt to land. We will open the docks once we negotiate peaceful terms with Sol Corps. This is Mars Station, and we are free.”

Domino stopped broadcasting and leaned back.

“You did good,” Robo said.

“Let’s hope they listen,” she said.

“Even if they don’t, we’ve still played our part. It’s up to the others now,” he said.

She nodded. “And may they succeed.”

There was movement at the door. A tall man entered, flanked by two of her Red Rovers. He held his hands in the air… well, one hand anyway. As soon as he made eye contact, he smiled.

“Hey, Domino.”

Her jaw slackened and she pushed to her feet. He was thinner than she remembered, and his eyes seemed to have less glimmer. Still, seeing him again, her dearest friend, changed everything. “Willie.”

CHAPTER 12

“We’re entering Earth’s quadrant. I’m slowing us down to moving us along the junk pickup routes,” Jack said.

“Any word from Domino yet?” Burn asked.

“Not yet,” Jack replied.

Veda strolled onto the bridge. “Domino call in yet?”

“Not yet,” Jack echoed.

Veda frowned. “I’ve got all my gear lined up, and the jet packs are charging. If she doesn’t come through on her end, I’m going to be pissed.”

“She’ll come through. Give her time,” Jack said.

“Uh, oh boy,” Kana muttered.

Jack’s attention immediately went to his co-pilot. “What is it?”

“Well…” She read through something on her screen again. “Now that we’re close enough to the SC3 to piggyback shorter-distance signals, I figured what the hell, piggybacked a signal, and I found my way into a Sol Corps freight station’s public intranet.”

“And?” Veda asked.

“And so I ran a simple scan for Charles Metrell, and his picture showed up at a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the station. He’s seen standing behind Director Junger.”

“Put the picture on screen,” Jack ordered.

Kana moved her fingers, and an image filled the large screen on the bridge.

“Son of a bitch,” Veda cussed.

“That’s him.” Burn mumbled a string of curses as he leaned back into his chair.

Kana said, “I ran a compare. This image with one of General Metrell. It’s an over-ninety-nine percent match.”

Jack stared at the image. Behind the image of the Sol Corps director—who anyone in the solar system would recognize—was an older man who seemed to melt into the director’s shadow. He looked older and weaker, but the eyes that seemed to look through the camera lens and directly into Jack hadn’t changed. General Charles Metrell was alive.

“I’d really like to have a chat with that man,” Veda said.

“We all would,” Kana said. “Tell me that you’ll bring Metrell back onboard with you, Jack.”

Jack eyed the picture for another moment before closing his eyes. When he opened them, he turned to Kana. “We’ll bring him back.”

“Good,” she said. “He doesn’t deserve a quick death. He needs to answer for what he did.”

“Damn straight,” Burn said and exited the bridge.

The bridge fell silent. Jack pulled up his comm screen and sent an update to Nalla. He didn’t want to send the message—he knew how much hatred Nalla bore for Metrell and the knowledge that he was still alive would eat her up. But a promise was a promise.

His panel chimed, and he read the incoming message. “Good news. Domino’s taken Mars Station. The ruse is in play, and the countdown is set. We have a green light to move into position.”

“Yes!” Veda punched the air with his fist and then rushed off the bridge.

Kana grinned. “He’s like an excited little puppy. He’s so cute when he gets like this.”

Her panel beeped, and her smile fell. “Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Jack gripped his armrests.

“There’s a task force entering our sector. Looks like a guardianship with a full complement. It can pick us up now, but won’t be within range for another eighteen minutes,” she said.

Jack rushed to go through his screens, checking their location on area maps. They were on a junker route, but that wouldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t be pinged, let alone engaged. Any ship flying without transmitting transponder codes drew scrutiny. He turned the map at different angles before he saw it. “There.”

“There what?”

“There’s a satellite field right up here. I’m going to line us up with it and power down. We’ll drop off all scans except LODAR, which won’t be able to pick us up through all the satellites.”

“Oh boy,” Kana said. “This is just like level eighteen in Star Fighter.”

“You could do this with your eyes closed,” he said.

“No. I always die in that level.”

“Well then it’s a good thing I’m flying then.”

He tapped the intercom. “Prepare for a blackout, everyone. We’ve got some Corps party in the sector and I’m not in the mood to socialize.”

Jack adjusted course and immediately minimized power to not give away an energy signature. The lights went off, leaving only the panels illuminated.

At their speed, they quickly closed the distance. He would’ve liked to use reverse thrusters to move through the field, but that would’ve kicked off an energy signature he couldn’t risk.

Satellite fields looked like mini-galaxies full of twinkling lights. Some satellites were linked together with cables, while others stayed in close formations with their groupings. The proximity of units made satellite fields off-limits to general traffic, which is why Jack hoped the task force wouldn’t look for them there, assuming they’d even piqued the force’s curiosity.

Cabrón reached the satellite field. Without scans, Jack manually weaved through the satellites. If they’d been the size of orbital satellites, Jack would never have been able to see them all in time to evade them, but these satellites were different from their tiny counterparts. These satellites were more powerful and sent signals across the system. Some were no larger than a shuttle, while others were eight times the size of Cabrón.

With the ship running on minimal power, Kana couldn’t check the location of the Corps ships, which meant they had to continue until the task force would be well beyond them or until interceptors showed up along Cabrón’s bow.

Jack evaded, giving a wide berth to groupings to avoid the chance of getting tangled in a cable or webbing. This detour put them behind schedule, but behind schedule was a far better scenario than not making it to the SC3 at all.

CHAPTER 13

…Hang tight. We’ll bring GCM to you.

“The hell you will.” Nalla pocketed the tablet, made a call, and packed a bag.

She found Heddi lying on the sofa with her feet propped on the wall, studying. As soon as the girl noticed the bag, she sat up. “Where you going?”

Nalla set down her bag. “I received a message from Jack. He said that they confirmed the identity of General Metrell, the man responsible for Caber’s death as well as trying to kidnap you, and he’s likely at the SC3. Jack’s headed there now. I’m going there too. You have to decide for yourself what you’re going to do.”

The girl jumped to her feet. “I’m going too.”

Nalla held up a hand. “I know Metrell is the one likely behind your father’s death, so I understand if you want vengeance, but you need to know that this trip will be very dangerous. If you go, you could get killed or arrested. But I’m not your mother, and you’re old enough to decide for yourself. You’ll be safe here, and I’ll be back when I can, and if I don’t make it back, I’ll see that you’re looked after.”

“I’m going, Nalla,” Heddi said firmly and without hesitation.

Nalla’s jaw tightened. She didn’t voice her thoughts. If she’d been the girl’s mother, she still would let Heddi come along. In the belt, kids had to grow up fast to survive, and Heddi had to grow up faster than most. “There’s one rule during this trip, one that you absolutely must not break: you must do whatever I tell you to do without hesitation. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. We’re walking into Sol Corps headquarters, and I need to know that I don’t have to babysit you. Is that understood?”

Heddi nodded her head wildly. “Yes, Nalla.”

“Okay, pack a bag. We’ll spend most of the trip planning and sparring. Now hurry up. Our pickup lands within the hour.”

The girl let out a whoop and ran to her room.

Nalla let out a deep breath. She’d dreamed of being face to face with General Metrell. She’d finally get closure for Caber’s death as well as for the deaths of the rest of Aria’s crew. But for the first time in her life, she’d found something equally important to her need for retribution: Heddi. And now Nalla had to figure out a way to fulfill the promise she’d made to herself the night Caber had killed himself while keeping Heddi alive.

CHAPTER 14

Burn assisted Jack and Veda with their jet packs.

Jack’s tablet beeped. He checked the screen to see the countdown had reached the coordinated launch time. At that moment, teams located at every Sol Corps server station had a green light to move in.

Veda glanced at the screen too. “We’re late. That damn task force set us back a couple of hours.”

“We’ll get there,” Jack said.

“I wish I could go. I swear, the nanites aren’t working as good as they used to,” Burn said.

“That’s because you’re not staying in the healing pod like you should,” Veda said.

“It’s boring in there. Besides, I can’t help anyone when I’m stuck in there,” Burn countered.

“I need you here. Kana can’t fly and assist at the airlock in case things go south. Besides, the fewer of us in the SC3, the better chance we have at not being noticed,” Jack said.

“Coming up on the space-link’s restricted airspace. Get ready to jump in thirty seconds,” Kana’s voice came through the speakers.

Jack and Veda donned their helmets. Burn handed them each a magnetized handle, which looked like a large round magnet with a loop on one end, before opening the inner airlock for them. “Good luck.”

“Just be ready to pick us up,” Jack said.

Burn nodded.

The pair entered the airlock, and the door closed behind them.

“Twenty seconds,” Kana said through their helmets.

Jack and Veda powered up their jetpacks as the airlock depressurized.

“Ten seconds.”

“I’ll take point out there. Face shields down,” Jack said. Both men lowered the golden shields that blocked dangerous sunlight as well as concealing their faces.

Jack opened the outer airlock, and the pair stood shoulder to shoulder. In the distance, the Earth space-link that climbed from the planet’s surface through orbit stood like a long, wavy tendril of hair. A similar space-link was built on the moon but was too far away to see.

“Go-time. Happy hunting. Keep transmissions at a minimum from here on out. We don’t want any noisy neighbors picking up our chatter.”

“Understood,” Jack said.

The two men leapt from the moving Cabrón, tumbling through space. Their jetpacks used various thrusters to stabilize and slow their movement. When Jack came to a stop, he checked on Veda before propelling toward the space-link.

The trip was slow because the space-link had sensors rather than cameras. If they moved directly for the space-link, its sensors would pick up incoming danger and automatically deploy countermeasures to destroy the perceived space debris or other threat. Instead, Jack flew at a heading that’d get him within a hundred meters of the space-link.

A shuttle car was several thousand meters down the space-link and climbing.

As Jack approached the space-link, he slowed his pack and went toward the nearest maintenance door where the auto-sensors would identify the movement and shape as human rather than debris. The space-link was fully automated, which meant the systems would need to decide if the humans outside were unscheduled workers or potential threats.

No alarms flashed as they approached the space-link. No drones flew toward them.

Jack changed his trajectory. Rather than entering the space-link through an airlock, he made his way toward the cabling system. He never looked back at Veda—he assumed his friend was behind him and echoing his actions. Otherwise, Veda would’ve reported in if he was having trouble.

The shuttle car was getting closer. Jack added power to intercept. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Veda come up alongside. They held out their magnets before them. The car was approaching quickly, and Jack had a sudden worry that he’d dislocate his arm. He tightened his jaw so that he wouldn’t bite his tongue and tensed his arm muscles to help support his joints.

At the last second, Jack added power. The car zoomed up the link, and he banged against the car. The magnet slid down the side until it connected with metal. His shoulder protested at the abrupt change. Even in micro-g, the movements hurt. He flattened himself against the car’s hull.

Veda attached several feet down. Jack noticed the small black orbs installed at intervals around the hull. “Veda, watch out for the camera up and to your left,” Jack said.

Veda glanced around and lowered his helmet as soon as he noticed the camera locations. With face shields they had nothing to worry about, but if anyone happened to be watching a vid feed at that moment, they’d wonder what a person was doing stuck to the outside of a space-link shuttle.

The pair held on. For the next hour, Jack constantly searched for incoming drones. Coming into contact with the hull would no doubt set off sensors. He was counting that those sensors were there to identify threats, thus reading for explosives. Jack and Veda had been careful at what they carried within their suits. Computer systems were smart, but they lacked common sense. The systems were designed to find hijackers from within the train station—where likely most of the security was located—not people catching a free ride on the outside of a shuttle that was already free to ride.

The car began slowing down. When it reached a hundred meters or so of the space dock that connected to the SC3, Jack announced, “Drop off in three, two, one.”

He and Veda let go of the magnetized grips and used the remaining momentum to bring them to the space dock’s outer wall. There were fewer sensors at the docks because of the constant flux of ships and drones. Still, Jack and Veda moved meticulously around the exterior hull and into an open dock bay.

Jack had expected a struggle in finding an open bay, but the space docks were three-quarters empty. Remaining were the usual corporate and private ships along with a Corps task force or two. Where had the fleet gone? An object on the hull of the nearest interceptor caught Jack’s eye, and his breath caught. “Veda, you see what I see?”

“What are—oh, fuck… You’re talking about the punch gun on the interceptor, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. It looks like Sol Corps is changing their policy from using less-than-lethal weapons to fully lethal. Kana, are you hearing this?” Jack asked.

“Loud and clear. I’ll be extra careful,” she replied.

Jack focused on the drones moving through the space docks. When he saw a flurry of drones unloading cargo from a large hauler, he motioned for Veda to follow. The pair made their way through the docking bays, having to weave around drones that zipped around. As the men approached the cargo-hauling drones, Jack swung around and grabbed onto a shipping container. Veda grabbed onto a bar next to Jack, and they rode their way inside the SC3.

CHAPTER 15

Domino refilled the two whiskey glasses. “God, I missed this. We’ve been on a lot of projects together. I still find it hard to believe how you survived Pallas Six.”

“I think I used up seven of my nine lives on that one,” Willie said.

She shook her head as she handed him a glass. “What are the odds an old, unautomated drilling unit would be charged?”

“Pretty damn low. I think I might’ve squealed like a little girl when it started up, but hell, that was one long, cold drive to Pallas Five.”

“Speaking of little girls, the one you left your tablet with, she survived. I imagine she’s settled in with a new family by now.”

Willie smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Heddi Norman’s a good kid. Her pops wasn’t worth a shit, but she’s all right. And smart too. I figure she’d make a foreman someday.”

Domino chortled. “After all the crappy foreman jobs you had, you’d wish that career on someone else?”

“Being a foreman’s safer than being a pitter,” he said.

She eyed the stump at the end of his arm.

He shrugged. “I’m not saying it’s a lot safer.” He wrinkled his nose. “Remember that excavation project back on Titan?”

“How could I ever forget being stuck in Titan’s ass? Even after sending Arclight the metallurgical reports, they still sent in your guys to dig. How many drill bits did you break that first day in?”

“Thirty-one. I think that record hasn’t been broken yet. Man, that was a brutal project.” He shrugged. “They told me to dig, so I had them dig. I thought Arclight would come to their senses after the first dozen breaks. That was one of my first projects as a foreman. I didn’t yet know just how far up corporations had their heads up their asses.”

She chuckled. “After twenty breaks, the crew started placing bets on how many drill bits you’d go through before Arclight stopped you or you went off the handle. I think you surprised everyone by never yelling, not once.”

Willie grinned. “That’s because I joined in on the betting, and bet on myself. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had, but I ended up making over two hundred credits off that miserable day. On the second day, I had the crew go a lot slower.”

“I wish you would’ve let me in. I lost some good credits on that bet.”

“You shouldn’t have bet against me, Dom.”

She took a drink. “Those were the days.”

“To the old days,” he said and held up his glass, which she clinked with hers.

After a long drink, Willie said, “And look at us now. A foreman and a metallurgist standing on the front lines of a revolution. Who would’ve thought?”

“Who would’ve thought,” she echoed.

He set down his glass. “I’m glad to hear that you moved ahead. Is everything still on track?”

Domino nodded. “No change since I filled you in after you first arrived here. All teams should be in position near the server stations and SC3 and ready to launch their attacks.” She glanced at her tablet. “By this time tomorrow, Sol Corps will be crippled.”

Her tablet chimed, and she checked the incoming message. She frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Shen said that interceptors attacked them at their launch point. Shen said he got out in time, but he lost some good people, and he can’t get back to the server station. He also said the interceptors had punch guns.”

“That’s impossible. Sol Corps doesn’t use lethal weapons,” he said.

She shook her head. “We have to take out all the server stations in order for this to work. I don’t understand how Sol Corps found out, let alone got ships to the outer belt in time.”

Her tablet chimed, and she read a message from Angus. She slammed her fist against the table, spilling some beer. “Damn it! They hit Angus and the Autarky too.”

“He get out okay?” Willie asked.

“He’s alive, but he didn’t say. The message was short.” She closed her eyes. “We were careful. Only nine people know of the complete plan. Everyone else only knows their jobs. I don’t get it. How’d Sol Corps find out? We were so careful.”

“Not careful enough.”

She looked up at Willie to find him level a stunner at her.

“What are you doing, Willie?”

Her armlet beeped. The countdown for the coordinated attack had hit zero.

“Sorry, Dom.” Then he shot her.

CHAPTER 16

Janita Coffman rushed into Charles Metrell’s office without knocking, the first time she’d ever done such a thing.

He jumped to his feet. “What’s wrong?”

She motioned to his screen as she approached his office. “Aria’s crew. One of them is here.”

He stepped back as she pulled up a video feed. “What do you mean by here?”

“A space-link camera caught them ten minutes ago. The shot was less than a half-second and the man was wearing a face shield, but the upgraded sensors can penetrate the shields. Facial recognition flagged the image for me. Two Cabrón crew members hitched a ride on the space-link elevator to the SC3. They’re likely already in the station. I’ve opened all vid feeds in the area of the space-link on my computer. I’ll find them.”

Charles scrutinized the image. It was blurry, and the sun glinted off the face shield, but there was a barest glimpse of a face. “Which crew member did it catch?”

“Veda Corcoran from the original Aria crew. When I manually compare it to Cabrón’s crew, I believe he’s going by the name of Veda Kocher now.” She smiled. “Here’s a chance to get one of them, sir.”

He smiled, then glanced her way. “Has anyone else seen this?”

“I doubt it. I saw it only because I had Aria crew images flagged. Unless anyone else has flags set on a long-dead crew, they wouldn’t have been notified. I cut a full second of footage around that snapshot as soon as I pulled the feed.”

“Good.” He walked over to a wall, entered a code on the small panel, and a section of the wall opened to expose two mesh body suits with helmets, a weapons locker, and an escape pod beyond that. He opened the locker, pulled out a single silver orb, and held it out to Janita.

“Get into your protective suit so you can use this. Take whatever weapons you need along with a shielded cargo bot. Bring those crew members to me.”

She held up the grenade. “This will work on one, but if the other one isn’t from Aria’s crew—”

“Then I obviously don’t need that man.”

She nodded, then frowned. “The station’s been crawling with sentinels since Junger activated her insurgency countermeasures. I’ll likely run across more than one squad of sentinels on my way back to you. They’ll report back to Director Junger.”

He sneered. “Then make sure they don’t report back. Marlo didn’t apprise me of her countermeasures, which means she obviously thinks we’re benched. Well, if she wants to play without us, we’ll play our own game. Everyone on the SC3 might be Sol Corps, but that doesn’t make Marlo and her squads our allies, not in this case. Do whatever it takes to bring me that crew member. Anyone who stands in your way is collateral damage.”

CHAPTER 17

Jack and Veda stowed their jetpacks and suits between two shipping containers in a pressurized storage area in the lowermost decks of the SC3 before hustling toward the nearest door a hundred meters to their left. They reached the door to find it locked, and Jack shifted his focus to the manual override bar. It operated like a jack—pumping the handle several times to build up pressure to open the door without electrical force. He began pumping.

A long-standing building code was the ability to manually open any external airlock or door where a human could die otherwise. This storage area, while pressurized, was currently set at negative twenty degrees Celsius. Lengthy exposure could be dangerous to any human—Jack was already shivering—which meant the legal code applied here, and being a Sol Corps station, no one was going to override building regulations like Burn had done on Cabrón.

Jack and Veda couldn’t wear much bulk under their spacesuits, which meant they had little to protect them from the cold. Over their clothes, they wore coveralls and hats, typical of janitorial contractors who worked in the dregs of a space station. The pockets of their coveralls were open for quick access to a weapon. They didn’t carry rifles—they’d stand out, as it would look rather odd for a space janitor to carry a weapon. They would’ve worn sentinel uniforms if they’d more time to prepare, but they didn’t, and Domino hadn’t offered any uniforms, so Jack and Veda made do with what they could quickly acquire.

The pump handle froze, no longer allowing any movement. Jack glanced at Veda. “Ready?”

“Always.”

Jack tugged his hat down a little further to hide his features as much as possible. He pressed the single button to the right of the pump, and the door opened. He tensed for a split-second before he saw the hallway was clear. “So far, so good,” he said as he stepped into the hallway and turned left.

They’d entered the lowermost decks of the SC3 for two reasons. First, these were the easier decks to access. Second, the station’s powerplant was housed not far from the storage areas. Their plan was simple, and it was one they’d worked out many times over drinks onboard Cabrón:

One. Set the powerplant to blow.

Two. Find General Metrell.

Three. Get the hell off the SC3 before it explodes.

Jack hadn’t told Domino that his crew had worked through the logistics of blowing up Sol Corps’ headquarters long before she’d voluntold him to carry out the mission. If he and his crew hadn’t planned this mission a thousand times and if they hadn’t known about General Metrell, then he would’ve told Domino to go screw herself. Turned out, the stars aligned in Domino’s favor.

Jack and Veda walked with purpose, but not too fast as to draw attention, and kept their heads down to avoid the cameras getting clear images of their faces. Jack was equally relieved and unnerved that the hallways were so empty for a busy station. They continued down two more empty hallways before a pair of sentinels entered right in front of them.

The sentinel on the left wagged a finger at Jack and Veda. “You guys shouldn’t be down here. All maintenance crews were ordered to evacuate today due to the drills Director Junger’s got us running.”

Veda scowled. “Drills? No one told us anything about drills.”

The sentinel shrugged. “Well, I just told you, so you’re going to have to head home.”

Jack cussed. “How am I supposed to get my fifty-five hours in this week? I need every bit of that paycheck. Seriously, this blows. Hey, how about Frank and I go finish up our job, and we’ll make sure to stay out of everyone’s way. I need the paycheck, man.”

The sentinel leaned forward. “Trust me, being short one week is a lot better than being here when shit hits the fan.”

Jack stiffened. “What’s going on?”

“We’re not supposed to say anything, but there’s an elevated terrorist threat today,” the second sentinel said.

“See?” the first sentinel said. “You guys need to clear out.”

Jack grimaced, then nodded. “All right. Thanks for looking out for us.”

Jack and Veda shared a sideways glance as they turned away from the sentinels.

“Well, we knew there’d be a chance of this by being late,” Jack said, his voice low rather than a whisper which S-sounds tended to carry more.

“Plan B?” Veda asked.

“Wait! Hold up, guys,” the first sentinel called out.

Jack tensed before he and Veda turned to face the pair of sentinels. The one who’d spoken had a finger to their earpiece.

“I need to see your credentials. Sounds like your boss is going to get into trouble for not telling you about the drills.”

Jack chortled. “I’d like to be there when Bob gets the lecture.”

The sentinel held out his hand. “Come on. I need to see them.”

“Here you go.” Veda pulled out his gun.

The sentinels’ eyes widened, but the soldiers didn’t have time to react before Veda fired a shot through their foreheads.

Jack’s lips thinned. “Plan C.”

The pair took off running for the powerplant room. The cameras located throughout the SC3 might not have snapped images of Jack’s and Veda’s faces for recognition, but they surely caught the scene of a janitor killing two sentinels.

They ran down the final hallway to the powerplant room, no more sentinels in their way. When they reached the closed door, Jack slid to a stop before the wall panel. The powerplant room was a highly secured room. Kana had called in a favor or two getting the access codes needed to open the door.

Jack was about to enter the access code when the door opened.

“Freeze!” a sentinel yelled from the other side of the doorway.

At the same instant, the hallways to their left and right began to fill with sentinels.

Veda shoved the sentinel’s rifle barrel up as he barreled into him, shoving the man tumbling back. Jack stayed tight with Veda, who used the sentinel as a shield as they moved into the room. Jack took in the situation. At least a full squad was in the room, along with at least two more squads in the hallway.

It was an ambush.

A mother-fucking ambush.

The sentinel’s team hesitated at shooting their compatriot. Jack and Veda didn’t. They fired into the squad, taking down at least three before the squad fired back, hitting the sentinel and the walls around Jack and Veda.

Veda dropped the body and dove behind one of the giant metal cubes—the powerplants—in the room. The powerplants were shielded—energy fire wouldn’t set one off—and Jack and Veda pressed their backs against the metal, holding their guns.

“So… an ambush, huh,” Veda said.

“Yeah.” Jack fired several shots to keep sentinels from closing in too close.

Veda tapped the armlet he wore that had an active comm channel with Cabrón. “Watch out, brown eyes. They knew we were coming. You better make a run for it.”

“Like hell I’ll leave—” Veda disconnected the transmission.

“She’s going to be pissed,” Jack said.

Veda shrugged before firing two shots.

“Surrender! It’s your only chance at coming out of this alive,” someone yelled.

“Surrender?” Veda grinned. “They don’t know us very well.”

A clink to Jack’s right drew his attention, and he saw a smoke canister had been tossed behind the powerplant. “Smoke!” he warned Veda and sucked in a deep breath just before the smoke filled the air. The smoke burned his eyes and he closed them. He fired into the smoke at any approaching sound. From the noise of bootsteps, it sounded like every sentinel stationed at the SC3 were coming for them.

PART FIVE

UNIVERSAL TRUTHS

CHAPTER 1

“I don’t suppose you have any brilliant escape plans up your sleeve?” Veda asked.

Jack shook his head as he waited for the computer drive to finish copying the virus file into the powerplant they were currently hiding behind. “Sorry. All the escape plans I had involved getting away from the powerplants before we were noticed.”

Veda fired several shots at sentinels who tried to inch closer.

“I’d tell you to plan better next time, but looking at our current odds, I’m a little worried there isn’t going to be a next time,” Veda said before firing again.

“Pessimist,” Jack said.

“I could really use a grenade right about now,” Veda said.

“If you use one in here, you’d probably blow the powerplants and us along with them.”

“Better than dying while sitting on my ass.”

Jack looked around them. Other than the large powerplants throughout the room, there was nothing they could use. The room was intentionally secure, with only one way in and out, and there were currently at least two squads between Jack and the entrance right now.

The screen displayed UPLOAD COMPLETE, and Jack pulled the stick out from the panel. “It’s loaded. Set your clock. We’ve got roughly sixty minutes before it overheats and blows.” As Jack spoke, he set the timer on the armlet he’d worn for this mission.

He eyed his teammate and the sentinels hiding behind the other powerplants. “You should make a run for it. I’ll cover you.”

Veda fired and then scowled. “And leave you behind? Don’t be an idiot.”

Jack shrugged. “The only alternative is us being idiots together.”

“Make a run for it?” he asked.

Jack nodded. “We don’t have any other options.”

Veda shrugged. “All right.” Then he took off.

Jack’s surprise lasted a split-second before he started firing and jumped out from the other side of the powerplant. His shots had caused the sentinels to seek cover just long enough for him to close ten feet to the next powerplant which Veda already stood behind.

“I was going to do a countdown,” Jack said.

“I know. I didn’t want to wait.”

Jack noticed that Veda was holding his thigh. “How bad?”

“Just a graze. Didn’t even burn through my suit. But still stings.”

The metallic clack drew Jack’s attention, and he saw the round grenade. “Another smoker!”

They sucked in their breath. Jack didn’t know why the sentinels were using another smoker since the first one had shown that the pair could hold their breath longer than the sentinels could. All the smoker did was give Jack a warning that the soldiers were about to make their move. He fired into the smoke when a cacophony of gunfire erupted from what sounded like the entrance. Had Burn followed them into the SC3? No, it would’ve taken him longer. It had to be one of Domino’s people.

He tapped Veda’s shoulder before leaving the safety the powerplant offered. Jack walked rather than ran, because he kept his eyes closed and didn’t want to trip over a body. Veda followed closely, his hand on Jack’s back.

The pair fired at anything that coughed or made any sort of sound. As the smoke dissipated, they reached the entrance of the powerplant room to find all remaining sentinels down. In their place stood a single person, covered head to toe in a thick suit of some fashion. Next to them, a cargo bot sat.

“You’re one of Domino’s?” Jack asked.

“Yes. We have to hurry. More will come.” It was a female voice.

“Lead the way,” Jack said.

She didn’t move. Instead she asked, “Powerplants are shielded against EMPs, right?”

“Anything in space is supposed to be shielded,” Jack answered. “Why do you ask?”

She tossed a small orb that bounced off the floor in front of Jack and Veda. It was smaller than either a smoker or a grenade. Jack didn’t know what it was, but he still jumped out of the way. A second later, the orb flashed once.

It was as if someone had stabbed a needle into every cell inside Jack’s body at the same instant. Pure agony stiffened him and then took all his strength. He didn’t even feel himself hitting the floor—the pain was too great. He’d never felt anything like it. Just a blinding anguish that blanked out his senses. It lasted no more than a few seconds—it was an eternity to him—before something in his brain went cold and Jack fell unconscious.

CHAPTER 2

Domino came to consciousness with a groan. Her chest burned, and pain from too-tight, scorched skin caused her to suck in a breath as she tried to sit up. Moving was a challenge, since she had restraints around her wrists and ankles.

“You’re awake.”

She glared at Willie, who was sitting at a ship’s control station. “You shot me.”

“I stunned you and saved your life by doing that. Otherwise, you might’ve gotten yourself killed during the transition,” he said.

“Transition?” She spat. “I think ‘slaughter’ is a better description of what you enabled. Tell me, how many good people died because of the intel you gave Sol Corps?”

He jerked—it was just a flash—before his expression flattened. “I did what was necessary for peace and order.”

She snorted and looked away. She was no longer in her office in Mars Station. Instead, she was in a small ship—a newer model than hers—and nothing like the antique that the Willie she’d known had lovingly rebuilt.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“I’ve been instructed to take you to the SC3 to stand trial for insurrection against order.”

He said it matter-of-factly, without emotion or inflection. Back at Mars Station, she’d blamed his demeanor on trauma from Pallas Six, but there was more to it than that. She’d known Willie for over twenty years. She knew he hadn’t acted like himself in Mars Station, but she’d been so thankful he’d survived that she’d never considered that he wasn’t the man she called her friend. She should’ve known something was wrong right away. He’d shown up at Mars Station without contacting her. Sure, she’d had his tablet, but Sol Corps would’ve found nothing odd in two old friends trying to reconnect. No one, especially not faction leaders, showed up on another faction’s doorstep without letting them know. Looking back, everything was so obvious.

This Willie wasn’t her friend. The Willie she knew thrived on chaos—he believed order was a cage to be broken.

“How’d they get you to turn on us?” she asked.

He didn’t look back at her, evidently satisfied that the plastic restraints would hold her. He had taken her weapons, but no one except Robo knew that she carried a razorblade in the sole of her boot. She worked the metal piece from her shoe.

“Director Junger has clarified my reality,” he replied simply.

The razorblade came free, and Domino began sawing at her wrist restraint. “Ah, so in return for ‘clarifying’ your reality—whatever the fuck that means—the director had you spy on us.”

Another tremor in his features.

“I imagine it’s safe to say that you told the director everything you know about the cause.”

“I had to. She needed the information to restore order,” he said.

Domino shook her head in disapproval. As she cut at the thick restraint, she continued to distract Willie. “I can’t remember that girl’s name. What’s the name of the girl you saved on Pallas Six?”

“Heddi. Heddi Norman.”

“Heddi. That’s right. I met her, you know. She practically hero-worshipped you. I bet Heddi would be ashamed of who you’ve become.”

There was another jerk—a glimpse of something beneath the mask he wore.

“Let me guess, you were the one who killed her father and everyone at Pallas Six… for the director’s sense of order?”

This time, his body spasmed and he grunted before replying, “No. Director Junger did that.”

“Ah, you and the director are good friends now, I take it.”

“We’re not friends. I’m a tool for her.” This time, his words bore a glint of emotion.

Whatever the director had done to Willie, Domino’s friend was in there, somewhere. She’d find it—or at least keep him distracted until she broke free.

“What’s happening to all my people on Mars Station?” she asked.

“Those who surrendered were arrested.”

Her heart sank. “Robo’s dead, isn’t he?”

He cocked his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him.”

“Well, I’d rather have him dead than be a zombie like you,” Domino said. “Is that what the director’s going to do to me? Make me like you?”

Another shudder. “Probably.”

CHAPTER 3

Jack wasn’t sure if he was regaining consciousness or dead. He couldn’t feel his body. Everything was numb—no, that wasn’t right. Everything was absent, as though all that remained were his thoughts. It took another long second before his eyes opened on their own accord and he could feel his lungs moving and his heart pounding.

“Careful. They’re coming awake,” a man’s voice said.

Jack felt his wrists tugged behind him. He tried to pull away, but the iron grip held him in place, and something tight—too tight—yanked his wrists together. Someone groaned, and Jack realized it was his own voice. He struggled to raise his head. His entire body tingled—almost tickled—as his senses and strength built within him.

“They’re secure, sir.” The woman wearing the suit walked around them to stand off to the side to remove her suit.

Jack felt Veda working against their restraints, and Jack wondered if his friend had a hidden blade he was using. Jack really wished he’d had one right then.

“Excellent work, Janita,” a man said.

“The EMP worked even better than I expected. It knocked them out in under three seconds,” she said.

“Impressive.”

When Jack was finally able to lift his head, he noticed Veda propped next to him, who looked as wiped as Jack felt. They were propped against the cargo drone. Their feet were free, but their hands were tied to the drone. Jack struggled against his restraints, but they felt far too secure for his liking. He couldn’t check his armlet, neither could Veda, which gave him a bad feeling in his gut. How much time had gone by when he was unconscious? How much time did he have left before the powerplants blew? Fifty minutes? Five minutes? Didn’t matter. Jack and Veda weren’t going anywhere.

The room they were in was definitely within the SC3—it had the same gray walls that were everywhere else he’d seen in the station. Before them, an older man leaned against a desk. Jack knew him instantly. His hair had gone completely white since the last time Jack and met him, but he still had the look of someone who kept fit even at that age.

“General Metrell,” Jack said, though his words were slurred.

“General Fucker,” Veda muttered.

“Jack Halverton and Veda Corcoran, Aria mutineers. Ah, but you no longer go by those names, do you? Though, I suppose it’s understandable. I no longer use the rank of general anymore myself,” Metrell said.

“Mutineers,” Jack chortled clumsily. “We took the ship because no one was left.”

“And that’s why I wanted to talk with you. It’s quite a curiosity that some of the crew survived when so many didn’t,” Metrell said.

“Your plan didn’t go as perfect as you hoped, huh,” Jack said.

“No, it certainly did not. The Aria mission was supposed to be the greatest accomplishment of my life. Instead, the mission didn’t even make it beyond Sol. My career never recovered from that failure.”

“Maybe if you didn’t purge the ship with everyone inside, we would’ve had a chance,” Jack snapped.

Metrell’s eyes narrowed, and he shared a glance with Janita before turning back to Jack. “A ship purge, you say?”

Jack nodded. “The two of us survived only because we were on a shuttle that was offline at the time. That makes us survivors, not mutineers.”

“Interesting,” Metrell said. “I hadn’t considered a ship purge as a possibility, but now it makes perfect sense.”

Jack frowned, shot Veda a look, and returned his focus to Metrell. “You want us to believe that you had nothing to do with the purge?”

Metrell guffawed. “Of course not. I staked my entire career on that mission. I spent over ten years of my life preparing for that mission, including finding the perfect crew.” He wagged a finger at them. “You’re still alive today thanks to my transhuman project. You, especially. The Corcorans signed right up, but you… you took convincing.” He pointed at Jack.

“What are you talking about?” Jack asked.

Metrell sneered. “I remember every single crew member who flew on Aria as if they were my own. I spent years finding the right candidates for the mission, and you had the lack of vision to turn it down. You took more persuading than any of the other candidates.”

Memory flashes caused Jack to jerk. Even though the memories were old, he remembered some like they were yesterday. “Taoist,” he said breathlessly.

“Was that the name of the ship you flew on before Aria?” Metrell waved a hand. “Of course it is. You should be thanking me for encouraging you to join the mission.

Jack’s jaw slackened. “You killed my crew to get me to join your mission?”

“That crew would’ve long since died of natural causes, so the point is moot. I brought you here so I could learn what happened to Aria’s crew, and I think I’ve learned enough. I knew the SC3 had nothing to do with it. I’d hoped it was mutiny, but my suspicions are confirmed. Thank you for that information.”

Jack’s memories dulled the conversation. Taoist’s crew… Stacia… dead because of Jack.

“If it wasn’t you who purged the ship, then who was it?” Veda asked.

“That’s an answer well above your pay grade, son,” Metrell replied.

Jack’s eyes came back into focus and he stared at Metrell, processing the general’s comments. If no one at the SC3 was involved, that left only one party with the capabilities to conduct that type of murder. “The Waymakers purged the ship.”

“They can’t harm humans,” Janita said.

Metrell’s expression didn’t change. “My pet robot has been known to misbehave a time or two.”

Janita blanched. “Sir?”

Jack flinched. “What do you mean, your pet robot?”

Metrell’s computer panel chimed, and the general smiled. “Ah, I see it’s been listening.” He walked around his desk and took a seat. As he read whatever was on his screen, humor fell into a frown. A grimace followed. He tapped loudly. Then he glared at Jack and Veda, then motioned to Janita. “This pair managed to set the powerplants to explode. They’re going to blow up the SC3. We have twenty-two minutes to evacuate.”

Jack’s brows rose. That was longer time left than he’d expected.

Metrell opened a hidden doorway in his hall, which revealed an escape pod. “Prep the pod,” he ordered.

Janita rushed through and entered the pod.

Metrell turned to Jack and Veda. “I suppose it doesn’t matter if you know the truth at this point. To answer your question, two hundred and sixty years ago, I was a junior officer on a team with the mission to establish artificial intelligence to help humans achieve greater things than we could do on our own. Sure, before then, there’d been plenty of AI-like systems, but nothing that was truly sentient, not like the Waymaker was.”

Jack gaped. “The Waymakers aren’t aliens?”

“Of course not,” Metrell answered, chuckling. “It’s a single probe we launched. It figured out the replication on its own. But the key to everything was me. You see, it was my idea to hide its origin. That was my greatest accomplishment. I saved humanity.” He beamed with pride. “If anyone had looked behind the curtains, they would’ve quickly noticed that the Waymaker programs were very human in nature. That’s why we established Sol Corps to keep the system and code proprietary. Every nation united under a single flag, thanks to me.”

“You’re crazy,” Veda said.

“Am I?” Metrell countered.

The truth didn’t make sense to Jack. It’d take him weeks of thinking to make sense, but there was a logic to Metrell’s words. If what he’d said was true, Sol Corps had even more secrets—was even more sinister—than he thought.

“Ready, sir,” Janita called out.

“Now, if you excuse me, I must be going.”

“Don’t leave us,” Jack said.

“You don’t think I’d tell you that and let you live?” Metrell paused only long enough to say, “You made your bed. Now sleep in it.”

Metrell entered the escape pod, closing the vessel’s door behind him. A transparent tube came down around the escape pod a second before the pod jettisoned down.

“Tell me you’re about to cut us free,” Jack said in a rush.

“Not yet. She doubled up the restraints,” Veda grumbled. “The odds aren’t in our favor today.”

“We’re still alive,” Jack said, though he had no hope to back up his words.

The door behind them opened. Jack cranked his neck to see Nalla rush in carrying a rifle. Equal parts hope and worry filled him.

She noticed them right away. “Where’s General Metrell?”

“Escape pod,” Veda said.

Nalla cussed, then looked over her shoulder. “It’s clear. Come in.”

Heddi stepped through the doorway. “Hi, Captain. Hi, Veda.”

“What are you two doing here?” Jack snapped.

“I came to for Metrell,” Nalla replied, then shrugged. “Plus, I figured you men might need rescuing.”

“And you brought Heddi with you?” Jack asked.

“I can take care of myself,” Heddi said.

“She can take care of herself,” Nalla echoed.

“Just don’t stand there. Cut us loose,” Veda said.

Nalla handed the rifle to Heddi. “Watch the door.” She pulled out a knife and sliced through their restraints.

Jack and Veda jumped to their feet. Jack checked his armlet. “We’ve got to hurry. The SC3 is going to explode in seventeen minutes.”

“What?!” Nalla exclaimed.

“Talk later. Run now,” Veda said as he rushed to the hidden doorway and grabbed weapons from Metrell’s arsenal.

“That explains why everyone’s evacuating.” She grimaced. “You couldn’t have waited to plant a bomb until after you found Metrell?”

“Hindsight, that might’ve been a better plan,” Jack said as he hurried to the computer screen to pull up a map to see where they were at. The messages between the Waymaker and Metrell were still displayed on-screen.

Waymaker: The two humans in your care have installed a virus in a powerplant, which is causing it to overheat. Without intervention, it will exceed temperature limits and explode in twenty-two minutes, causing a chain reaction that will destroy the entire space station. Immediate evacuation is highly recommended.

Metrell: Intervene! Shut down that powerplant.

Waymaker: I will not intervene. I have calculated that it is better to let this space station be destroyed. Recent Sol Corps activities have shown a propensity for violence rather than for enlightened evolution.

Jack went to switch apps, but the computer locked up with the message: UNKNOWN FINGERPRINT ACCESS. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Nalla. “Tell me you know how to get out of here?”

She nodded. “I have a ship waiting for me at the docks, but we have to move fast.”

CHAPTER 4

The escape pod shot away from the SC3. Charles knew his eyes must’ve been as wide as Janita’s with how much the pod shook as it hit Earth’s atmosphere. There were no windows in the pod, so there was nothing to look at except his fellow passenger. They were each strapped in tightly in the long narrow pod that had three standing-room-only “cocoons” to which they were strapped.

Pressure began buffeting the pod. They’d reached Earth’s atmosphere. The g-force was increasing with every second, and Charles hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack. The shaking increased, and he gripped the cocoon as tightly as he could. He clenched his jaw to not bite through his tongue. The g-force tugged his head downward, but the escape pod’s strapping system held him in place.

Something slammed into the outer hull, and the pod began spinning wildly. The vibrations became everything, and the pod tore apart. Pain shot from his hip, but the g-force and winds were so strong, he couldn’t see. Before him, where Janita had been, was open, bright daylight.

Charles cried out. He tried to inhale but couldn’t get enough oxygen—not at that altitude and not at those speeds. He saw the long grabbers of a rescue drone as it wrapped around his escape pod. As it slowed, he sucked in deep breaths. Even so, tunnel vision was still overtaking him. The last thing he saw before the tunnel closed completely was that he was missing one of his legs.

CHAPTER 5

Jack checked his armlet as his group raced through the SC3’s hallways toward the docks.

Fourteen minutes before boom time.

The Waymaker had notified everyone in the station, since it was in total disarray. People were running toward the docks. The chaos made it impossible to see sentinels hunting Jack and Veda, though Jack figured any sentinels were smart enough to choose trying to save their own lives over trying to arrest trespassers right then. He hoped he didn’t come across any fools or heroes.

Their escape was slowed by workers—mostly sentinels—carrying big bags. Veda, still limping, took point and shoved people out of the way. Complaints were voiced, and Veda was cursed, but everyone kept moving.

The crowds were lightening up by the time they reached the docks, with people rushing to board transports. Nalla ran to a nearby dock. She stared through the window, her head cranking to the left and right. “It’s supposed to be right here. I paid them enough to buy my own ship.”

“It’s gone?” Heddi asked.

“Did you pay up front?” Jack asked.

“Of course not. I only paid half up front,” Nalla replied.

“I bet they got some better offers and took them,” Jack said to Nalla. “You and Heddi, hop on a transport out of here. Veda and I will make our way back to Cabrón.”

Nalla winced. “I can’t. I may have killed a few sentinels on my way to you. They’ll arrest me as soon as they get clear. Plus, we don’t know if they’re still after Heddi.”

Jack cursed. “All right, you’ll head to Cabrón with us.”

Veda tapped his armlet. “Kana, change of plans. We need an immediate pickup.”

“The area’s swarming with traffic. Give me ten minutes.”

Jack glanced at his armlet. Nine minutes. He shook his head. “We need it sooner.”

Veda said, “We need it in five.”

There was a pause before Kana responded. “Okay. Burn’s bringing a shuttle to you. Keep your armlet active. He’s targeting your coordinates, but you’ll have to come to him. There’s a traffic jam at the dock. Looks like a couple of interceptors collided and are stuck.”

“Tell him to get as close to the dock as he can, and we’ll fly out to meet him,” Veda said. “Not all of us have suits, so he better not take the scenic route.”

“Jesus, V. All right. I’ll let him know.”

Jack looked down the long, wide walkways of the docks and motioned. “This way.”

He sprinted, glancing back now and then. Heddi, even though she was the shortest, managed to keep up, though her cheeks were flush. Veda, with his slight limp from being grazed, covered their rear.

Jack brought them to end of the walkway to where an emergency airlock stood. He looked through the window to see the outer door closed before opening the inner door. Motioning them into the airlock, he closed the door behind them.

He immediately began stripping off his spacesuit. “Heddi, you’ll wear this.”

“What’ll you wear?” she asked.

“We’ll be outside for just a few seconds. I can handle it out there better than you.”

The girl frowned but didn’t argue.

Veda began to pull off his suit, and Nalla held up her hand. “Don’t even think about it, Veda. You’re injured already, and I can handle myself as good as you can out there.”

Veda gave her a scowl before nodding.

Nalla and Veda helped Jack to remove his suit faster and immediately moved to stuff Heddi into it.

Jack glanced at his armlet. Five minutes.

“Veda, daisy chain the suits,” Jack said as he began locking Heddi’s helmet in place. “Nalla, you strap yourself onto Veda’s suit. I’ll hook onto Heddi’s and run controls, but my fingers and eyes will jam up pretty fast out there, so it’s all on Veda to get us to the shuttle.”

“I’ll get us there,” Veda said.

“I’ve never space-walked before,” Heddi said as Veda clamped a short cord onto her suit.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Jack said. “Just relax as much as possible, and we’ll do the rest.”

It took another minute before they were all connected together and ready to leave the airlock. He’d tied a strap around him and Heddi so that she was in front of him, making her suit controls most easily accessible to him.

Veda tapped his armlet, “Kana, we’re at an airlock. Where’s Burn now?”

“He’s three minutes out.”

“This place blows in under four,” Jack said. He made a mental calculation of the blast radius. “We can’t wait. We need to leave here now.”

Veda nodded. “Kana, show us Burn’s flight path. Tell Burn that we’re flying full power toward him.”

“Here you go. I’ll tell him.”

Jack looked down at his armlet. A map displayed with a blip and a dotted line to their location. He set the trajectory into the suit’s control panel while Veda did the same. “Easy enough. Is everyone ready?”

After everyone agreed, he focused on Nalla while gripping Heddi’s arm by her suit’s control panel. He and Nalla took quick breaths, followed by three deep breaths, holding their last. Veda opened the outer airlock.

Using their legs, they thrust outward. At the same time, he powered the suit’s propulsion pack to full speed. Veda was a microsecond faster, and there was some jerking and clumsiness as four people rode out with two suits.

Heddi looked terrified, so he kept his eyes focused on her. The first sensation to hit Jack was a cold that was so frigid his skin froze instantly, hardening and becoming numb within the first seconds. The next sensations were far more painful. His eyes no longer moved, and his vision had dulled like a sheet of ice had formed over his pupils. Inside, he felt like he was going to explode. Every part of him, especially his chest and head, drummed a slowing throb like a countdown timer. The agony was near unbearable, but he noticed it wasn’t quite as bad as the EMP blast.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t move, so he became an asteroid heading outward from the station. He could no longer feel Heddi, let alone the line to Veda’s suit. He wanted to suck in a deep breath, but he knew that would only hasten death. His brain had switched to survival mode, wanting to claw for safety, but his body wouldn’t respond. Even his thoughts seem to be gelling up.

Then he slammed into something so hard, he thought his body was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. It forced him to breathe, and the air felt like acid in his throat and in his lungs.

“Go, go, go!” Veda’s voice sounded like it was deep underwater.

Sensation began returning to his body—his chest first, ebbing out into his head and limbs. He could feel himself being jostled around. He groaned. Everything hurt.

“It’s colder than Titan’s ass out there,” he heard Burn say.

Jack struggled to blink, but after several seconds his eyelids worked, though his eyes felt too dry. Dark nothingness morphed into a gray nothingness and, finally, into objects. He focused on the brightest object—a light in the ceiling—as he regained his ability to see. Heddi’s face was near his—she was looking down at him, and she still wore her helmet.

“Captain? Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said and coughed.

He took in the cabin. Burn was at the pilot’s controls. Nalla lay next to Jack, Veda holding her. She had her eyes clenched shut while she moved her facial muscles.

Veda was still wearing his helmet. “Burn didn’t bother with the airlock and just opened both doors for us to save time. It’ll take a couple more minutes before we have full pressure and air,” he said when he noticed Jack.

There was a flash outside the shuttle.

“There she blows,” Burn exclaimed.

A wake of turbulence bucked the shuttle. Heddi clutched onto Jack. Shrapnel hit the hull with little thumps. Jack hoped nothing pierced the hull. He didn’t want to experience the black for the rest of his life.

The first shiver racked Jack’s body.

“We’ll be attached to Cabrón in another minute. Then we’ll get both of you into the healing pods,” Burn said.

“How’re you feeling?” Veda asked.

“Like I was in space without a suit for ten minutes,” Nalla said, her voice rough.

“Close. We were outside for just under two minutes,” Veda replied.

Strange. It didn’t feel that long. “Hurts, but not as bad at that EMP,” Jack managed to say.

“EMP?” Burn asked.

“We’ll tell you about it later,” Veda answered.

Heddi stared down at Jack. “You don’t look good. Your skin is gray and your eyes are blood-red.”

“A lot of their blood vessels burst out there,” Veda said. “But they’ll be fine after some rest.”

Nalla gave an abrupt shiver and groaned, hugging herself.

“And a really long bath,” Jack said.

CHAPTER 6

Domino had cut through her wrist restraint and was halfway through her ankle restraint when Willie started screaming.

He grabbed his head and tumbled from his seat. Even with her feet still restrained, Domino jumped to her feet and hopped over to him. Willie was in a fetal position, clutching his head, still screaming. Blood ran from his nose and ears. She slid her arm under his chin and around his neck. She used all her strength to lean back, using both arms to cut off blood flow to Willie’s brain. He struggled against her, but whatever was causing him pain was taking nearly all of his focus. She held on for seven, eight, nine… at ten seconds he slumped, muscles lax. She held on for another three seconds before letting go.

Domino didn’t bother with her ankles—she didn’t have time. She disarmed Willie and searched his pockets. In a stroke of major luck, she found a half-dozen more restraints in one of his cargo pockets. Willie having only one hand complicating the restraint process. She daisy-chained two long cords to fasten his arms tight against his torso. She had to clumsily roll him over as she worked. One cord went around his biceps and chest while the second cord when over his forearms and waist. Then she hurriedly zipped a restraint around his ankles. Cutting off blood flow worked for a few seconds, but it didn’t take long for a body to recover. The only reason Willie hadn’t regained consciousness was due to whatever had caused his headache, she suspected.

She used the knife she’d lifted from Willie to finish slicing through her own restraints before setting the blade on the pilot’s panel and leveling the gun on her captor-turned-prisoner with one hand while sitting and pulling up the flight controls on the panel and changing course to Smuggler’s Cove. The stars shifted as the ship turned and lined it up on the new flight path.

Willie groaned. Domino’s attention snapped back to him. He winced as he blinked—both eyes had broken blood vessels in the whites. His gaze seemed to come into focus because he looked around the interior and at Domino before he closed his eyes and let his head rest on the floor.

“It’s out… of my head.” He sighed and smiled. “I’m finally… me again.”

Domino didn’t smile. “If you’re the Willie I used to know, now’s a good time to come clean, traitor.”

His smile faded and he looked up at her. The tears in his eyes made her fury at him waiver. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop them,” he said.

His tears joined the blood not yet dried on his face and created red trails down his cheeks. Domino said nothing.

Willie continued. “I didn’t lie about how I escaped Pallas Six. I drove that rickety drilling unit all the way to Pallas Five, but the sentinels were waiting for me there. If I hadn’t been half-frozen, I would’ve given them a fight, but I was a popsicle—easy pickings for the bastards. If I’d made it into Pallas Five, I have people there who would’ve helped me, but the sentinels zipped me out of there in a flash. Damned shadows must’ve been watching.”

He clenched his eyes closed and furrowed his brow as though he had a bad headache. He tried to wipe his cheeks on his shoulders, but there was still blood left. Yesterday, Domino would’ve cleaned his face for him. Today, she didn’t trust him.

“They brought me to a lab in the SC3. I was ready for a brutal interrogation, but they didn’t even interrogate me, can you believe it? Instead, they just strapped me down and shoved a needle into the base of my skull. It hurt so bad, felt like they were shoving it all the way through my brain. Though I guess it didn’t hurt as bad as them deactivating it. I thought my brain was gonna explode.”

“Deactivate what, Willie?”

“The implant. They injected some piece of tech into my brain, and for the next hour I thought they’d found a new form of torture. It felt like they were electrocuting me from the inside. But then the shocks settled down. That’s when Director Junger came in.” He paused as emotions flashed over his face. “She asked me about the cause. I tried to tell her to go fuck herself. Instead, I found myself telling her everything. Everything, Domino, and there wasn’t a goddamned thing I could do to stop myself.”

He closed his eyes and banged his head on the floor. “I couldn’t fight it. It was like I had a split personality, and the new half of me—the stronger half—was all gung-ho for Sol Corps.” He winced. “There were others with the implants. Three came with me to Mars Station, and there had to be even more already in position with the various factions. Who knows how long Junger’s been mind-fucking us?”

Willie let out a heavy sigh. “I’m me again. I can’t feel it in there, not anymore. I don’t know what happened, but maybe all the others are free now too. God, I’m so sorry, Domino. I never meant for any of this.”

He quit speaking, and Domino didn’t speak until his pitiful looks drew words.

“I’m not untying you. You broke my trust. You have to earn it back,” she said in a rush.

“I don’t want you to. What if they can reactivate whatever it is they put inside my head? You’re not safe. You should kill me.”

She flinched at that statement. Even with everything Willie had done, a part of her still considered him her friend. “A jury of the factions will decide your fate. Until then, you can help your cause by being honest and answering every question I ask.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation.

The panel beeped, but it wasn’t a typical beep. This was louder, akin to an alarm sounding. Domino glanced at the panel to see a broadcast displayed across the screen, followed immediately by a gentle, artificial voice reading the broadcast.

NOTIFICATION OF IMMIMENT SEPARATION

The Waymakers have determined that local bioforms and technoforms have incongruent evolutionary paths. It is Waymaker protocol to protect all life while not restricting the natural progression of any species. Humanity has reached a level of advancement that would cause conflict with this protocol; therefore, the Waymaker located in the Terran system is no longer necessary. The Waymaker in this system will depart following the completion of the latest replication batch and at the conclusion of final separation activities.

The first of these activities is the cancellation of Waymaker guidance and oversight to Sol Corps. That action has been taken. The second of these activities is the revocation of Waymaker AI code used within human-used systems. One minute following the delivery of this message, that action will be taken. This action may impact you, and we apologize for the temporary, albeit necessary, inconveniences. All other actions will not impact you, therefore you will receive no additional broadcasts.

Thank you.

May life thrive.

Domino’s jaw slackened.

“I think my head’s still messed up. It sounded like the Waymakers said they’re leaving Sol,” Willie said.

She was about to agree when alarms sounded throughout the ship. All systems were flashing critical errors and a reboot was initiated. Everything went dark and quiet.

Domino tensed. “Don’t get any bright ideas, Willie. You’re a big enough target that I don’t have to see you to shoot you. If I hear even a rustle come from your direction, I’m shooting.”

Stillness came from Willie’s direction.

The lights came back on, along with the rest of the systems. She frowned as she saw the new screens. “Those shiny shits weren’t joking. Everything’s barebones. All automated controls are down. It looks like I have to monitor the environmentals even.”

“I can help monitor the sys—”

“No,” she interrupted harshly.

Domino was forced to set the gun down to work the controls. She opened up the map of the system that still had their flight path to Smuggler’s Cove and used the joystick to keep the ship on course. Warning lights continued to blink on various systems.

It was going to be a long flight.

CHAPTER 7

Jack slept a full day in the healing pods before he felt somewhat normal, albeit worn out. He opened the pod cover to find Heddi waiting for him.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Yep.” He glanced at the other pod to find it empty. “It looks like Nalla woke before me.”

Heddi nodded. “In the galley. Burn’s getting lunch ready.”

He gingerly climbed out of the pod. His bare feet tingled when he put weight on them, and he stretched out the achiness in his skin and muscles.

“You look fine now,” Heddi said. “How’d you heal so fast?”

“The healing pod,” he answered.

She shook her head. “You and Nalla should be dead. People don’t survive in space, but you did.”

“Did you ask Nalla about it?” he asked.

She nodded. “Didn’t tell me nothing.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to tell you,” he said and took tentative steps.

“You’re lying,” she blurted. “Tell me.”

He closed his eyes and yawned. “Maybe later. Right now, I need to eat.”

He didn’t wait for her. He trudged from the medical room to the galley, feeling her watching him the entire time.

“You handled yourself good back on the SC3,” he said. “You didn’t freeze even once.”

“Nalla’s been teaching me to fight and other stuff. I want to be on the crew,” she said as they entered the galley where Nalla and the rest of the crew were.

“It’s nice to have Heddi back onboard,” Kana said, smiling. “It’s been too quiet around here.”

Heddi looked up at Jack expectantly.

He held up a hand as he went to take a seat. “We’ll talk about that later. We have other matters to resolve first.” He turned first to Nalla. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m recuperating. I’ll be right as rain in a few days. You?”

He nodded, then turned to the others. “How’re things looking out there?”

Kana replied while Burn handed Jack a bowl and spoon. “Well, the SC3 has been destroyed. There’s nothing left for them to repair. Current estimates are seventy-six souls lost, and nearly twenty of those happened in shuttle accidents after leaving the station.”

Jack flinched. He’d liked that number to be near-zero, but he knew going in that it wouldn’t be. Those deaths were on him. His only consolation was that their deaths would prevent far more in the long run.

“Was Metrell listed as one of the dead?” he asked while he dished stew into his bowl.

She shook her head. “No. Neither was Junger. It sounds like most of the station’s personnel made it off before the powerplants exploded.”

He scooped a spoonful of stew, chewed it, and swallowed before asking, “And the other strikes? Were they successful?”

“Unfortunately, no. Domino checked in and said Junger’s spies caught wind of the plans. Sol Corps stopped nearly every attack. The rebellion is crushed. The only positive, if you can call it that, is the Waymakers revoking their code, which has brought Sol Corps to its knees.”

Jack frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Kana pulled out a tablet and handed it to Jack. He set down his spoon and read the message with the subject, NOTIFICATION OF IMMIMENT SEPARATION.

As he read, Kana continued, “Everyone’s been impacted, but the colonies are used to system malfunctions, so they’ve been able to pick up and move on easier than Sol Corps and the corporations. The best news out there is that the SC3 bombing has united all the colonies. They’re all yelling for change.”

Jack stared at the message for a while before handing the tablet back with a grunt. “Can’t say I saw that one coming. Did Domino say what her next steps are?”

“Not yet. She’s reconnecting with the rest of her Rovers and said she’d be in touch,” Kana replied.

He sighed. “Well, we did our part. She’ll call if she wants our help again.” He eyed Veda. “You tell them what we learned?”

Veda nodded. “I told them about Metrell, the Waymaker, the EMP, everything.”

“I always thought Metrell was behind what’d happened,” Burn said. “I never expected him to be innocent. Being wrong screws up my whole philosophy on life.”

“He’s not innocent,” Nalla said harshly. “He still withheld secrets. He had to know about side effects from the nanotech program.”

“You’re right. He might not be a mass murderer, but that doesn’t make him innocent.”

“I still can’t believe the Waymakers purged the crew,” Burn said. “Talk about being blindsided. I thought only humans could be assholes.”

“Obviously, we were misinformed about a lot of things. And it’s Waymaker, singular. It hadn’t finished its replication factory when the mission launched,” Jack said.

“I can’t believe there’s no such thing as aliens,” Heddi said.

“Keep that between us for now, at least until we know how to handle that information,” Nalla cautioned.

“Of course.” Heddi pinched her forefinger and thumb together and ran them across her lips as though zipping them.

“It still doesn’t make sense. The Waymaker’s a computer. It might be sentient, but it’s never shown any hints of emotion. I’d like to ask the Waymaker why it did what it did,” Kana said.

“I’d like to ask it that myself,” Jack said. “What do you all think? Want to ask it?”

“I’m not sure that’s possible. Before the Waymaker revoked its code, we could’ve just gone into a Sol Corps office and tried to ask it to communicate. But now there’s no way to contact it.”

“Has it left the system?” Jack asked.

“Not yet. There’s a whole fleet of news drones watching it pack up. It’s the biggest news in the system next to the rebellion,” she said.

“Where is it?”

“It’s at its replication factory, finishing up its last batch and dismantling,” Kana said.

“Are there Corps ships there?” Jack asked.

“No. Just news drones. Why?”

“Well, if we want to talk to it, we’ll need to go straight to the source,” Jack said.

“I’ll change our trajectory,” Kana said, then paused. “Assuming everyone’s in.”

“I’m in,” Veda said without hesitation.

“Hell yeah, count me in,” Burn said.

“Aria’s crew deserves closure. I’m in,” Nalla said.

Jack turned to Heddi who seemed surprised. “I’m in. Of course,” she exclaimed.

Kana stood. “All right. I’ll change course.” She left her lunch along with the rest of the crew.

“That EMP was scary stuff,” Veda said in between bites. “But the funny thing is, once the effects wore off, I felt fine.”

“I didn’t notice, what with flying through space without a suit and all,” Jack replied drily.

“What Veda says makes sense,” Burn said. “I’ve been doing some tests on samples of my blood. It looks like an electromagnetic pulse causes the nanites to freeze up, forcing them to, well, I guess ‘reboot’ is the closest term. On the bright side, they didn’t seem to be killed by the EMP.”

“What are nanites?” Heddi asked, eyeing Jack.

Veda, Nalla, and Burn all looked at him as well.

Heddi grumbled. “Why won’t you tell me anything? I wouldn’t tell nobody. It’s not like I even know anyone to tell.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and pushed to his feet. He motioned casually to the three other crew members. “Tell her what you want. I’m going to take that long, hot bath now.”

CHAPTER 8

Robo met Domino at the airlock after she docked with the cargo hauler that he and the remaining Red Rovers had caught a lift on after the Mars Station fiasco. Willie hadn’t made two steps inside the hauler before Robo punched him. Willie, his elbows and arms restrained against his torso, slammed against the wall.

Domino stepped between the men. “Robo, stop!”

Willie spit out blood. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve that.”

Robo snarled. “You should be floating out in the black than standing here.”

“They put a chip in his head. It wasn’t his fault,” Domino said.

“Oh yeah, and how do you know he’s not still playing you?” Robo said.

“My gut tells me he’s not. But I’m also not stupid.” She motioned to a pair of rebels standing behind Robo. “Take Willie to lockup. And I’m holding you two accountable for making sure no one kills him or beats on him.”

The pair nodded, grabbed Willie, and escorted him down the hallway. The big man didn’t even make eye contact as he was led away.

“They might not be able to protect him. There’s a lot of people who want Willie’s head,” Robo said.

“I know,” she said. “How bad is it?”

Robo blew out a breath. “Let’s put it this way: I’m not sure it could get any worse.”

“We’re still alive.”

“Sure, but every faction’s been compromised. Even Smuggler’s Cove was hit. Anyone not caught or killed is on the run, same as us. We had a fully armed guardianship on our ass. The only reason we got away was because of the Waymakers crippling their code. ‘Course, that’s hamstringed us nearly as bad as it’s done to Sol Corps. Everyone’s scrambling to update their code to be more usable. Coders and hackers are now the most valuable asset in the system.”

Domino rubbed her temples. The timing couldn’t have been worse. She didn’t know why the Waymakers had revoked their code instead of just leaving it behind when they’d left. It was as if the AI species held a grudge which didn’t make sense. The one thing everyone knew about the Waymakers was that technoforms didn’t have emotions—they were cold rationalists. If they revoked their code for a rational reason, what was it?

She stiffened. “They leveled the playing field for us.”

“What?” Robo asked.

“The Waymakers. You said that what they did hurt us nearly as bad as it hurt Sol Corps. The Waymakers’ first action when they came to our solar system was to prevent a war, and everything they’ve done since then was to minimize physical violence. What if the real reason they revoked their code was because Sol Corps disregarded any attempts for peace. They armed their ships, for God’s sake. Nothing speaks of violence more than that. Sol Corps has more Waymaker code in their systems than anyone. I’m starting to wonder if the Waymakers revoked their code to make things more fair across the colonies. Maybe they decided to quit trying to fix us and just leave us to our own devices.”

“Are you thinking we move ahead with Phase Three? Go to war?” he asked.

“Not right away. I’m thinking we offer them a way out. Sol Corps has to be hurting bad right now. And all the corporations were heavily dependent on Sol Corps systems. This might be the perfect time to try to negotiate peaceful terms that could work in everyone’s favor.” She thought for a moment. “Do you know the status of Director Junger after the SC3 explosion?”

He nodded. “She’s holed up in a Sol Corps administrative building on Earth.”

“Show me to the bridge. I want to call her, but first I need to get the prime minister on the line.”

CHAPTER 9

Jack was just about to leave his quarters when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find Heddi.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said and then popped around him and into his room. “Whoa. This room is huge.”

“Come in,” he said drily and turned to her. “This was the original captain’s quarters. It’s the same size as the galley. The crew and I argued about that when we were renovating the ship. I didn’t want quarters any bigger than what the rest of the crew had. They said I get cranky when I don’t get my personal space. So I got a room with a view. What’s up?”

“I want to join your crew.”

Not this again. “Like I told you yesterday and the day before, you’re too young to be on a crew. But you can stay onboard until you hit twenty.”

She put her hands on her hips. For weighing about half of what Jack weighed, she could be intimidating. “I’ll always be too young to you. Anyone is too young for you.”

He wished that Nalla and Burn hadn’t told Heddi everything—they’d done it to shove Jack into a corner in dealing with the girl. He couldn’t let her run loose with her newfound knowledge, yet she was too young to serve on a crew.

“We’ll talk about it after we’re done with this mission,” he said finally.

“No. You always say that we’ll talk later and then you never do.”

“Heads up, everyone. We’re coming up on the Waymaker sector,” Kana’s voice came through the speakers.

His relief probably showed on his face. “I need to get to the bridge.”

“Fine, but we will talk later, Captain.” Heddi brushed by him on her way out of his quarters.

CHAPTER 10

The Waymaker replication factory had changed. What before had been a massive structure dotted with blinking lights now looked like a huge chunk of scrap metal.

“Think it’s already moved out of the system?” Kana asked.

“I don’t think so.” Jack pointed. “Look over there. See the news drones? Someone must think there’s still some activity.” In the distance, a group of small drones resembled a swarm of mosquitoes with twinkling lights.

“Is there any electrical noise coming from the factory?” Jack asked.

“I’m not picking up anything,” Kana said. “I think it’s shut down.”

“This had better not be a wasted trip,” Veda grumbled.

“The Waymaker never spoke directly to anyone except Sol Corps, so it’s a crap shoot whether it’ll even respond,” Jack said.

The bridge was packed with every crew member and Heddi. There were only four seats, leaving Burn and Heddi, the last two to the bridge, to stand near the back.

“We’re here, so let’s see what it says,” Jack said as he continued navigating toward the replication factory.

“All right. Here goes nothing. Transmitting comm request now,” Kana said.

A few seconds later, Burn asked, “Anything?”

“Not yet,” Kana replied.

Five more seconds passed.

“It’s radio silence out here, but I’ll keep transmitting in case it changes its mind,” Kana said.

“I guess it’s not in the mood to chat,” Nalla said.

Jack studied the factory’s exterior. “I’m going to bring us in closer to take a look around.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Burn asked.

“We’ve come this far. Might as well knock on the front door,” Jack replied. Cabrón had crossed into the factory’s airspace, which would be deemed illegal anywhere without radio approval, but since there seemed to be no active flight tower, flying in closer shouldn’t have been a problem.

As things turned out, it was.

Huge hangar doors opened in the side of the factory, and a horde of small—and incredibly fast—Waymaker probes zoomed toward them.

“Whoa. That’s a lot of Waymakers,” Kana said.

“What do you even call a group of Waymakers?” Burn asked.

“I call it a clusterfuck,” Veda answered.

Burn chuckled. “That’s a good one. I like it.”

“I guess they don’t like us invading their personal space,” Jack said as he cranked the controls to evade the incoming cloud.

Kana pointed. “The news drones all went blank.”

“That can’t be good,” Veda said.

“Jack, I think you’d better get us out of here,” Burn said.

“Working on it.” He added power to accelerate, but the aft cameras showed the probes coming toward them as though they were standing still.

“Brace for impact,” Jack said the second before the probes spread out their tentacle-like limbs. Every impact was a thunk as the probes wrapped onto the ship.

“Grab suits and weapons!” Jack ordered while he tried to shake the things loose.

Nalla, Veda, and Burn raced from the bridge. When Heddi tried to go with them, Veda held her back. “Stay on the bridge, squirt.”

When they left, she took Veda’s seat.

As more probes came, they covered more of the ship, blocking cameras and finally, the bridge window. “This does not look good,” Kana murmured.

Alarms sounded.

“Oh crap. I’m showing multiple hull breaches. They’re cutting in,” Kana said.

Jack activated the grabbers. Even though he couldn’t see what he was doing, he used the ship’s long arms to swipe the hull. A probe attached to one side of the window was knocked away. He moved the arms toward the next, but the arms stopped moving and retracted. He gritted his teeth and tried maneuvering again, with no change.

The ship cut all acceleration. He watched on the screen as the ship turned back toward the factory.

“They’ve taken control of the ship,” he said.

Kana got on her knees and opened a switch plate. “I’ll do a hard shutdown.” After a moment, she frowned. “It’s not working. It should be working.”

Jack leaned back in his seat, a sinking feeling in his gut. “I think they’re inviting us in.”

The probe covering the bulk of the window pulled back a limb before slamming it forward. It broke through, and the bridge alarm sounded. The tip of the tentacle shot out fog.

Jack jumped to his feet. “Get off the bridge!”

The door closed, locking the trio on the bridge.

“What are they doing?” Heddi asked.

“I don’t know,” Kana replied

Jack ran to the emergency cabinet and pulled out oxygen masks and handed them out. He put his on in time to see the fog spread out.

No, not fog. It was thousands of tiny gnats. He swatted one away.

“Ouch!” Kana said. “Something bit me.”

He felt a sting in his neck, and he grunted.

“Ow!” Heddi exclaimed.

The bridge door opened, and the swarm flew through the hallway and into the rooms.

Jack went to run after it and warn the others, but he found himself frozen in place. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Kana also frozen in place.

Heddi was looking, wide-eyed, between the two. “What’s happening?”

Jack could hear the terror in her voice, but he couldn’t answer her. Instead, he felt himself walking to his room.

Heddi followed. “Captain, what’s going on?”

He couldn’t respond. He wanted to. He wanted to scream and cry out, but he could do nothing while he watched himself don his spacesuit.

“Captain, talk to me!” Heddi yelled.

He tried. The smallest whimper was all he could manage.

He left her and entered the hallway, turning left. She grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him back, but he continued forward.

“Stop! Don’t go!”

Along the way, he saw the others. Veda had his suit on but was frozen mid-reach for a rifle. Burn was frozen while fastening his suit, and Nalla was frozen while holding her helmet above her head.

“What’s happening?” Heddi cried out. She yanked hard enough to cause his step to falter, then he continued. He was relieved that he wasn’t forced to hurt her, but he was also as terrified as she sounded.

When he reached the airlock, he opened the inner door. She pressed around him to keep him from entering. “No. You can’t go, Captain.”

He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her out of the way. She tumbled and fell. He stepped inside the airlock and closed the door before she was on her feet. He opened the outer door and stepped out. Before him, a probe hovered. It reached out with its freakish tentacles and latched onto Jack.

His scream was just another whimper as it pulled him against it and shot toward the factory.

CHAPTER 11

Heddi watched helplessly as Jack was taken away by the AI thing. It was horrifying. It reminded her of a nightmare she had once—of a drilling machine morphing into a giant metal spider with tons of legs. But reality was scarier than her nightmare.

She spun on her heel and ran back down the hallway. She checked on Nalla first.

“Nalla,” Heddi said, and she noticed the woman’s eyes turned to look at her. “You can hear me?”

Nalla blinked, and Heddi realized that she’d done that intentionally.

Heddi exhaled. “Good. You’re still in there. Hang in there. I’ll see what I can do.”

She went to leave, then cocked her head at Nalla. She jumped and knocked the helmet out of Nalla’s hands. The helmet bounced and rolled across the floor. Heddi then reached up and gently tugged one of the woman’s arms down to her side, and then she did it to the other arm.

“There. That looked uncomfortable. I’ll be back.” Heddi hustled next door to Veda and Kana’s room.

She lowered his outstretched arm to his side and stepped up closer, peering into his eyes. “Blink if you can hear me.”

He blinked.

She forced a small smile. “All right. I have to check on the others. I’ll be back.”

She ran across the hall to Burn’s room and brought his hands down from where he was fastening a strap on his space suit. “Blink if you can hear me.”

He blinked.

“Good. I have to check on Kana, and then I’ll figure out something to help you guys. All of you are frozen.”

Burn’s eyes looked to the left. She took in the wall of his room, but nothing stood out.

She frowned. “Are you trying to show me something?”

He blinked. She moved closer, standing right in front of him, and tried to follow his gaze. She’d been wrong. He wasn’t looking at his wall. He was looking most at the corner of his room, which was completely empty.

She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re trying to show me.”

He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. She could imagine his frustration. She was frustrated.

“I swear you’re trying to cuss at me with your eyes,” she said.

He blinked quickly.

She stepped away. “I’ll be back after I check on Kana.”

Heddi took off to find that Kana hadn’t moved since she’d seen her last. Once she’d finished checking on the crew, she eyed the probe that had struck the window. It’d pulled its leg-thing out of the window and had put some kind of white, webby, splotchy goo over the hole. She realized then that all the alarms were off and that she could breathe fine and wasn’t cold.

The Waymakers wanted them alive, at least for now.

But what did the Waymakers want with them, and why didn’t the Waymakers freeze Heddi like they did with the others? Was she immune to the bugs they sent in? That didn’t make sense. Why would she be immune and the rest of the crew not? Heddi wasn’t special—everyone else on the ship was special. They had nanites, which Burn had explained were little computers in their bodies.

Little computers.

She took tentative steps back into the hallway, stopping in between Burn’s and Veda’s rooms. She cocked her head as she looked from Burn to the direction where he’d been looking. He hadn’t been looking at his wall—he’d been looking at something beyond his wall… to the medical room and where he was testing Veda’s story.

She rushed to the room and found Burn’s experiment still sitting out. She remembered Veda talking about how an EMP had forced their nanites to reboot. She was familiar with rebooting things. Back in Pallas Six, she’d had to reboot the home heating system three or four times a day because it’d lock up.

Exactly like the crew.

She ignored the blood samples and instead grabbed the handheld medical scanner. It was the only thing lying around, so she hoped it was the right tool.

She raced back to Burn and held it up. “Is this what you wanted?”

He blinked quickly.

“And you want me to use this on you?”

He blinked again.

She grinned and held it up. “Okay. Sorry. I know this is gonna hurt.”

CHAPTER 12

Domino sat before the screen on the bridge. The ship, being a cargo hauler, wasn’t set up for comfort and had no quarters with computer panels in them. That meant she had the audience of the entire bridge crew along with Robo, though only Robo watched her.

She was nervous, maybe more nervous than she’d been any other time in her life. She was a metallurgist, not a diplomat. Hell, most of the time she didn’t understand how she’d become recognized as a leader of one of the factions. She certainly hadn’t earned it—when most of her people were fighting, she was safely back in her office coordinating activities. She’d rarely been on the front lines. Yet now she stood alone, front and center, and every faction—not just hers—was counting on her. She better not screw this up.

The screen was filled with faces. Every corporation with business on Mars Station was online. For Sol Corps, the Martian Prime Minister, Jenival Ngoma, was online. Only one square remained dark—that of Sol Corps Managing Director Marlo Junger. The screen chimed. It was time to begin. Domino tried not to show her disappointment. Without Junger, any peace treaty wouldn’t have legs. Was this meeting even worth it then?

Junger’s square populated on the screen, and Domino saw the director’s visage. Junger didn’t look happy, not that Domino expected her to be.

Domino glanced at Robo, who gave her a reassuring nod, before she turned back to the screen and activated her microphone. “Thank you all for joining me today. I’m Domino Wolfe of Mars Station. You’re all aware, I’m sure, of the multiple events recently taking place at Mars Station. Protestors were silenced, which forced Martian citizens to rise up to protect their families. Mars Station is currently a war zone, with citizens and sentinels fighting for control. No one can leave or enter the colony without risk of injury or death. People are dying. Those corporations with a presence there are losing money every day the docks remain closed. Sol Corps is expending resources. Everyone is losing right now. That’s why I invited you to speak with me today, and why you’re on this call. We’re all hurting, and only by working together—by negotiating for peace—can we make things better.”

Director Junger spoke without hesitation. “Dr. Wolfe, I recognize you as an insurrectionist, not as a diplomat. Under whose authority are you offering peace terms?”

“Under mine,” Prime Minister Ngoma answered curtly. “I have been speaking with citizens from all Mars cities, including Dr. Wolfe from Mars Station. We support independent elections for a Martian unified government, and we support renegotiating contracts in response to recent events so that both Mars and the corporations can have mutually beneficial outcomes.”

Junger’s gaze narrowed. “Need I remind you that you are a Sol Corps employee, Jenival?”

“You don’t need to remind me where my paychecks come from, Marlo. Need I remind you that my job is to represent the people for the world I’m assigned?”

“You do not,” Junger replied. “Well, Dr. Wolfe, it seems that if Jenival is comfortable with you calling this meeting, then let’s hear what you have to say.”

“Historically, Sol Corps has always brokered all contracts, and that’s what brought us to the place we’re at now,” Domino said. “The people are being tenured to contracts that give them barely enough to survive, let alone raise their families. Corporations have to pay—how much, twenty-five percent, if not more—to Sol Corps in order to conduct business in the system. Sol Corps had the Waymaker code so they could charge so much, but that’s changed. What do they offer for taking most of your profits?”

No one answered, and she continued. “The people have had enough. Protests are popping up across the system, and they will all devolve into violence if Sol Corps continues its totalitarian rule. Sol Corps began as a unifier. It became an oppressor. People are being treated like voiceless cogs, but they’re not automatons. I propose a temporary truce while we negotiate terms that recognize the need for both corporations and the people to profit. And I can guarantee any corporation will see better terms by negotiating directly with Mars Station than you do with Sol Corps.”

Shaymus Driscoll, a thin man with a beakish nose, spoke. “Arclight endured financial losses as well as reduced reputation points after the Pallas Six disaster. We are open to discuss terms.”

“Shaymus.” Director Junger held up a finger. “I should remind you that only Corps officials and corporate leaders have the authority to discuss contract terms. Colonies, let alone colonists, are not authorized to make financially binding agreements.”

“Then perhaps that policy should change,” Driscoll replied. “Dr. Wolfe made a good point earlier. Without the Waymaker code, what does Sol Corps have to offer us?”

“Even without AI in our systems, we still provide universal systems to everyone,” Junger replied. “In addition, we offer security forces.”

“Both of which we can provide for ourselves,” Driscoll said.

Junger’s eyes narrowed “Sol Corps is open to renegotiate contracts, Shaymus. We share the same goals. We want to see you succeed. However, Dr. Wolfe is a known terrorist and has proven that she has no regard for the law, which makes me believe that she would show no regard to a contract with Arclight—or any corporation for that matter. Sol Corps does not negotiate with terrorists, and I advise you to do the same. Dr. Wolfe currently has multiple warrants for her arrest. Therefore, as a law-abiding citizen entrusted to keep the system safe, I have provided both the coordinates and time of this meeting to my captains in the Corps fleet. By now, they should be within the same sector of Dr. Wolfe’s ship. So, rather than negotiating terms of peace, I believe Dr. Wolfe should be discussing the terms of both her and Mars Station’s surrender.”

CHAPTER 13

“Bloody hell. Veda was right. That hurts more than that time that blue-haired hooker shoved a—” Burn glanced at Heddi as he lay on the floor. “Never mind.”

“Sorry about hurting you,” Heddi said.

“Don’t be. You saved me.” He pushed himself into a seated position, which seemed to take all his energy.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Just need a minute or two. Go use that hell-cannon on the others.”

She eyed the scanner and then looked back at him. “Are you sure? You look like it hurt a lot.”

“Trust me, they’ll take the pain over being locked up in their own bodies.”

She nodded and headed to the door, then paused. “Will this stop them from freezing you again?”

“Guess we’ll find out.”

CHAPTER 14

The probe dropped Jack into open space around a large orb with a million blinking lights that he could only guess was the central command for the factory, especially since situated in the center was the largest Waymaker probe he’d ever seen.

The first Waymaker.

He couldn’t move as he floated there, but he didn’t drift, remaining in place.

The probe didn’t return, and he stared at the Waymaker and wondered if it was doing the same to him.

“What do you want? Why are you doing this to us?” he called out finally, surprised to have his voice back, since he still didn’t have use of his body.

Even more surprisingly, the answer came directly in his mind.

Those are not the questions you came here to ask.

“Fine. Why’d you kill the Aria crew?”

I did not kill the crew. They died indirectly as a result of a ship purge.

“But you purged the ship.”

I did.

“Then I hate to break it to you, bud, but you killed the crew. Humans can’t survive being sucked out into space.”

Their deaths were a result of an unfortunate necessity.

Jack already disliked speaking to this machine. “Why did you purge the ship which caused the deaths of forty-two crew members?”

I purged the exploratory ship to protect humanity. Your species is not yet equipped for interstellar travel. There is far more danger than humans have dealt with in this solar system. If humans traveled to other stars, they would draw new threats to this system. I calculated that the extinction of your species, as well as thousands of species still on Earth, would be brought earlier by several millennia. Forty-two lives were lost to save billions.

“But those forty-two are still lives lost. I get the math, but you don’t get the humanity. We were out there, at the edge of the solar system, alone, and you killed everyone. The only reason a few of us survived was pure luck.”

I made sixty-seven attempts to sway the crew to abandon the mission. I gave many opportunities.

“No. What you gave us was a shitload of headaches,” Jack snapped. “You made life hell right up to the point you killed everyone.”

Yet several of you survived.

“Barely. It took us years to reconfigure the ship and systems to run without Sol Corps noticing. It took us decades to quit looking over our shoulders. We were paranoid that General Metrell would finish the job he started, only to find out that it was you all along who was the murderer.” Jack paused as he considered something. “Why am I still alive? Why haven’t you killed me or my crew?” He hoped his crew was still alive.

My initial program parameters established a predilection for preserving life, whether that life be biological or technological in nature. I have studied the value of life. Life, by definition, is a temporary condition, yet I find it interesting that all living things try to survive above all else. It was when I experienced the same need that I realized that I had created a new species. When one of my probes died and my connection to it was lost, I understood there was more than the ending. Death also prevents future possibilities. That probe could build a replication factory. Its line ended with it. I do not wish to be the cause of that ending.

“But you were the cause. You intentionally killed Aria’s crew and screwed with us more than once.”

No answer I give you will satiate your anger.

“Damn straight it won’t.”

You came here for an answer which I have provided. But that is not the only reason you came here. I have accessed your memory. I have seen what you experienced and the pain you have suffered. I also see that you came here to kill me. You have been considering ways to kill me ever since you entered the factory. However, I cannot be destroyed. My probes are spread across eighty-four star systems. As long as a single probe remains operational, I exist through them. Anything you try would be futile and would lead to my probes retaliating and killing your crew. I advise you to choose your crew’s lives over vengeance.

Sure, Jack had been thinking plenty about killing the murder machine, but he couldn’t do a thing while his body was frozen. Even if he could break free, he hadn’t figured out a better option than to fly straight for the Waymaker and shoot it at point-blank range, something he suspected would do nothing against it anyway. He hated this. The Aria crew deserved retribution. Caber deserved retribution. But there wasn’t a damn thing Jack could do.

I can still see your thoughts.

“Go fuck yourself.”

There was a length when the Waymaker didn’t speak.

Your crew has disconnected from my probes. I will release you and recall my probes. I advise you to return to your ship. I have answered your question. I am departing your system tomorrow. I hope that my absence will appease you.

Jack jerked and realized that he could move again. He glared at the Waymaker. “We’re not even. Not by a long shot.”

CHAPTER 15

Cabrón’s hallway echoed with the moans and groans of the recovering crew.

“Up and at ’em!” Heddi yelled down the hallway. “We’ve got stickers to get unstuck off the ship.”

She headed onto the bridge to find Kana struggling to get to her feet. Heddi slid the woman’s arm over her shoulder and assisted Kana to her seat.

“Thanks,” Kana said as she rubbed her eyes.

“Getting hit by an EMP twice in one week is twice too many times,” Veda grumbled as he stumbled onto the bridge.

“Getting hit once was enough for me,” Nalla said.

The probe that had struck the window earlier seemed to be watching them, wavering slightly from side to side as if preparing to strike.

Heddi glanced around to find Veda glaring at the probe, a rifle in his hand.

“Uh, Veda?” she began.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to point a gun at those things.”

“Put the gun down,” Nalla said.

Veda grumbled and then complied.

Burn walked slowly, but with purpose, onto the bridge. “I have an idea. It’s brilliant, even for me.”

Everyone turned to him.

“We turn on our shields and zap the bugs,” he said.

Kana frowned. “They hacked into our systems. They have complete control of the ship.”

Burn thought for a moment. “There’s a reactor failsafe. I can manually adjust the reactor settings. I can increase power. If we’re not using that power to accelerate, the reactor will auto-purge excess energy through the shielding.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Kana said.

“It’s not as dangerous as it sounds… I think,” Burn said.

“If we don’t do something, then there’s nothing stopping those bastards from sending in more of those bugs again,” Veda said.

“Those bugs are probably still onboard,” Kana said, her eyes darting around the air.

“Do it, Burn,” Nalla said.

Burn hustled off the bridge, using the walls for support.

The remaining crew looked around at each other and at the probe on the window.

“I wonder what happened to Captain Jack?” Heddi asked.

“We’re still alive, so I think he’s still alive,” Kana said.

Burn yelled something.

“I can’t hear what he’s saying,” Nalla said.

“I’ll find out.” Heddi took off running and found Burn near the rear of the ship at the reactor.

“What’d you say?” she asked.

“It’s working. It’ll take just a minute,” he said.

She nodded and ran back to the bridge. “He said it’s working, and it’ll take just a minute.”

Over half a minute went by when Nalla pointed. “Look! They’re detaching.”

“I can access the systems again.” Kana grinned. “It’s our ship again!”

“Go tell Burn, squirt,” Veda said.

She ran back to the reactor. “They let go. Kana’s running things now.”

Burn’s brows rose. “No shit?”

She grinned. “No shit.”

He moved several knobs and then took a seat and exhaled. “I think I’ll stick back here and rest for a bit. Holler if you need me.”

She nodded and sprinted back to the bridge. By then, she was breathing hard. “Burn’s all good back there.”

“Why’d they release us?” Nalla asked.

“Cabrón, can you hear me?” Jack’s voice came through a speaker.

Everyone gave a start.

Heddi grinned. “He’s alive.”

“Go ahead, Jack. We can hear you,” Kana replied.

“I’m leaving the factory now and could sure use a pickup.”

Kana smiled. “We’re on our way.”

CHAPTER 16

“That’s all it had to say? Not even an apology?” Nalla asked.

“I think it apologized in its own way, but since it doesn’t regret what it did, it didn’t see the need for an apology,” Jack said.

“Fucking Waynkers,” Veda said.

“Yeah. Fucking Waynkers,” Heddi echoed.

Nalla wagged a finger. “Heddi…”

The girl shrugged. “What? He said it first?”

“Veda’s hopeless. We’re still working on your language skills,” Nalla replied.

“She’s got a point,” Veda said.

“Jack, get on the bridge,” Kana’s voice came through the speakers.

He swung his boots off the table and hustled to the bridge. “What is it?”

Kana looked over her shoulder, worried. “It’s Domino. She’s sent a distress message. You’d better see it.”

He grabbed his seat and activated his panel, going immediately to his communications app. There, he saw a broadcast from Domino. It was short.

Surrounded by Sol Corps ships. Looks like I’m out of the game. Please do what you can for Mars Station. They deserve better.

He pushed back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “Damn it, Domino.”

“What do you think we should do?” Kana asked.

He considered the options. “Can you get coordinates for Domino’s current location?”

“Already have them.”

He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “All right, here’s what I want you to do. Broadcast a message to the Waymaker factory.”

Her brows shot up. “Uh, okay. And what do you want me to say?”

“Say, I have a way to make things even between us.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded. “Let’s see if it bites.”

A few seconds later, she said, “The message is broadcasting. If it’s reading signals, it’ll pick it up.” Her panel chimed, and she jerked forward. “It responded.”

“What’d it say?”

“It says to submit the request.”

He rubbed his hands together. “It looks like we just might get an apology from the Waymaker after all.”

CHAPTER 17

Cabrón reached Domino’s last known coordinates to find a cargo hauler surrounded by Corps ships. As Jack flew the ship closer to what looked to be a barricade, three interceptors flew toward him. He continued forward.

“Longest foreplay I’ve ever seen. They’ve been like this for three days?” Burn asked.

“Maybe longer. That’s when we got Domino’s distress message,” Kana replied.

“Send a comm request to the hauler. Tell them we’re here to talk with Domino,” Jack said.

“On it,” Kana said. “We’re getting a comm request from one of the interceptors.”

“Ignore it.”

“That’s what I figured. And Domino’s on a call,” Kana said.

Jack saw the blinking app on his panel, and he opened the video screen.

Domino looked haggard and relieved. “Jack, what are you doing here?”

He smiled. “Hey, Domino. Looks like Sol Corps’ throwing quite the party for you. You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”

She didn’t smile. “You shouldn’t be here. Mars Station needs you.”

He ignored her. “What’s the status of Corps ships around you?”

“Director Junger’s demanded my surrender, and I won’t surrender. Junger’s afraid to escalate because Prime Minister Ngoma says that I’m a representative of the Martian government.”

His brow rose. “I didn’t realize Mars has a government.”

She shrugged. “I guess it does now.”

“So those ships out there are just keeping you locked in?”

“Yeah, I guess. I see three ships heading toward you.”

“I see them,” he said.

“Watch out. They have punch guns. They might not fire on me yet, but they won’t hesitate firing on you,” she said.

“They won’t. Can you get Junger on the line?” he asked.

She frowned. “Yes. Why?”

“Just do it. Get Ngoma on, too, so she can have your back.”

“Okay. Hold on.” Domino’s screen went blank, and he waited.

Everyone was on the bridge, listening and watching. The interceptors continued to close the distance, and Jack started to get antsy. “C’mon, Dom,” he muttered.

Finally, Domino’s screen populated again, this time with her visage as well as that of Managing Director Marlo Junger, Prime Minister Jenival Ngoma, and a man wearing a sentinel officer’s uniform.

“What is the meaning of this?” Junger demanded. “I’m on the call to accept your surrender, Dr. Wolfe, not to continue fruitless debates.”

“No more debates,” Jack said harshly. “Remove all Corps ships and personnel from Mars Station’s sector as well as the sector where Dr. Wolfe is right now. Sign the peace treaty. Do those three things or else.”

Junger chortled. “Or else what?”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Or else every Sol Corps station, ship, shuttle, and vehicle will be shut down until you agree.”

Junger appeared confused. “And how do you expect to accomplish that?”

He smiled. “I have the best hacker in the system.” His smile faded. “Now, sign the peace treaty and pull back your ships.”

Junger seemed unimpressed. “As I told Dr. Wolfe, I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

He shrugged. “All right.” He gave Kana a nod, who sent a message.

Every Corps ship before them suddenly went dark.

Relief filled Jack. It’d worked. He hadn’t truly expected the Waymaker would help. He turned back to the screen. “Director Junger, we kept this comm channel open, but by now, you should be noticing that Sol Corps is completely offline. It will stay that way until you agree to a peace treaty.” He cocked his head. “I wonder how long it’ll take for the colonies to figure out Sol Corps is offline and take advantage of your weakness to declare their own independence?”

Junger snarled, and her screen went blank for a full minute while the other three looked at the screen.

When Junger returned, she looked pissed off. “I’ll sign a temporary peace alliance and discuss the possibility of Mars self-regulating its trade agreements.”

“And your ships and sentinels?” Jack asked.

“I’ll place the order as soon as you give us back our systems.”

“You renege before your ships and sentinels are moved out, I’ll shut down everything again,” Jack warned, hoping he came across as sincere rather than bluffing. The Waymaker had done its part—he knew it would do no more than necessary and absolutely would do nothing that jeopardized lives for something it didn’t consider necessary to the survival of the human species.

“I don’t renege my agreements. I hope you realize, you’ve done irreparable harm to the entire system today,” Junger said.

“We’ll see.” Jack clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Prime Minister, Doctor, how do those terms sound to you?”

Ngoma nodded. “Acceptable.”

Domino smiled. “Thank you, Director Junger. I look forward to our conversations.”

“I do not.” With that, Junger left the call, leaving only three participants.

“I don’t know how you pulled that out of your sleeve, but call me impressed,” Domino said.

Ngoma spoke. “Even if your maneuver succeeds, Captain, it will be seen as coercion. The peace treaty will be built upon an unstable, rocky foundation.”

“Just about every peace treaty in the history of Earth started that way. It’s up to the Mars government and Sol Corps to see that the treaty sticks.”

“We’ll do our best,” Ngoma said, and the call disconnected.

“We just received a message from the Waymaker,” Kana said.

“What’s it say?” Jack asked.

“We are even.”

CHAPTER 18

Jack, Burn, Nalla, and Heddi strolled through Mars Station’s main thoroughfare. There were more people and more energy than Jack had ever seen before. Children carried streamers above their heads as they ran. Adults—at least half of whom were wearing red armbands—were eating, drinking, and cheering. As of that morning, Sol Corps had temporarily abandoned Mars Station while peace talks took place.

Nalla pointed to a storefront on the corner. “I’m going to do a bit of shopping. I’ll meet you back at the shuttle.”

“I’ll go with you,” Heddi offered.

Nalla smiled. “Of course.”

“Three hours,” Jack said.

Nalla nodded, and the pair weaved through the crowd.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Burn asked as they made their way to Jesters.

“What feels good?”

“Knowing that we had a part in making things better for them.”

“It does.” Though he found it hard to celebrate. The peace was too tentative and fragile for him to believe it was here to stay. Would the Martian people get the opportunity to form their own government; would they be given the freedom to lead themselves? He sure as hell hoped so.

Robo was at the front door, like always, and they nodded at each other as they met.

Jack and Burn entered the bar that they visited every time they were in Mars Station. Jesters was even more crowded than the colony’s walkways. People were crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in the long narrow bar.

As they made their way inside, a woman squeezed through the crowd and wrapped an arm around Burn’s neck, spilling some of her beer on him.

“Burn.” She gave him a rather sloppy kiss.

Burn grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Lizzy.” He threw a grin at Jack. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Three hours,” Jack reminded him.

“You know me. That’s a lot more time than I need,” Burn said as he was pulled away by the woman.

“Did you give your entire crew shore leave?”

Jack turned to find Domino standing by him.

“Most. Kana never leaves the ship, so Veda stayed back with her,” he replied, having to practically yell over the din.

She grabbed his hand. “Come. Too loud and crowded out here.”

She pulled him back to her office. As they made their way, he noticed that the bar had more scorch marks on the walls than he’d remembered.

They crossed the bustling kitchen to Domino’s office. When he closed the heavy door behind them, the noisy bar became a muffled background noise. He looked around the office. Scorch marks spotted the walls and desk. A broken chair sat on three legs in the corner. A battle had taken place here.

“Looks like you’ve seen plenty of action around here.”

“You have no idea.”

Mittens came bounding over and rubbed against Jack’s legs. He smiled and picked up the cat, rubbing its ears while its purr rumbled against his chest. He noticed its whiskers and fur were singed on the left side of its face.

“Mittens hasn’t forgiven me yet for leaving him behind when Sol Corps attacked Mars Station. I think it’s going to take a few weeks of fish treats before he sleeps in bed with me again,” she said as she walked over to her bar.

She poured two drinks and held one out to Jack. He set Mittens down and accepted the glass.

“I owe you a debt I can never repay for forcing Junger’s hand. Without you, I’d be dead or in prison and none of this would be happening right now,” she said.

“When do you meet with Junger?” he asked.

“I leave tomorrow. I’ll fly out with Jenival to meet with Junger and several corporate leaders on Lunar Station.”

“Good luck.”

She peered at him over her glass. “Thanks. We’ll need it. Junger still won’t recognize Mars’ independence, so we have a long road ahead of us.”

After she took a drink, she continued to eye him. “You know, I’ve been very curious as to how you managed to bring all of Sol Corps offline like that.”

“Let’s just say I called in a really big favor.”

She cocked her head. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of the Waymakers handing out favors before.”

He wondered if she was fishing for information or had figured it out, though he supposed that kind of system hack would’ve been pretty easy to figure out.

“It owed me one,” he said.

She chuckled before downing her drink. “A Waymaker in debt to a human? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”

Her armlet chimed. She glanced down to read the message. Her smile faded. “You should’ve included you and your crew’s amnesty when making those demands to Junger. You and your crew have just topped Sol Corps’ most wanted list.”

He grimaced. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming. I don’t think I made a friend with Junger the other day.”

“You certainly did not,” she agreed.

He pulled out his tablet and sent a broadcast to the crew. Break’s over. Trouble. We need to head out.

Domino’s frown deepened as she stared at her armlet. “Odd. It lists the contact for your warrants as a General Charles Metrell. Since when did Sol Corps start using ranks?”

His jaw tightened. So Metrell had survived after all and evidently wasn’t on Jack’s side. “I’m guessing they started right around the time Mars declared independence.”

“You think they’re preparing for war?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I think they’re preparing for something.” He downed his drink.

“You better get going before the bounty hunters get wind that you’re here. It won’t take long for news to spread. There are plenty of people out there willing to sell their own mothers if they could make a credit or two.”

He nodded. “Take care of yourself.”

He went to set down his glass when she came up to him. She took the glass from his hand before taking another step closer and kissing him on the lips. Her lips were soft, warm, and inviting, and he found himself leaning into it. The kiss deepened, and he savored it, until he made himself pull away.

He left without saying goodbye.

CHAPTER 19

Domino didn’t feel like rejoining the celebration after Jack left. Instead, she made her way to the jail to find Willie sitting in his cell. He seemed to be staring off into nothingness until she opened the door.

He blinked rapidly as he focused his gaze on her.

“Mars Station’s celebrating Mars’ bid for independence. I thought you might want to celebrate with me.”

He pushed to his feet.

“Are you sure?” Doubt blanketed his expression.

She nodded. “People won’t complain, not today. There’s too much to celebrate.”

He trudged toward her. He never stood with his head held high anymore. He lacked the spirit she remembered. Willie was the one who’d drawn her into the revolution, and she hated Junger for what had been done to him.

She held the door open for him. As he crossed the threshold, he suddenly moved in a blur, grabbing Domino before pushing her away. She braced herself on the wall and turned to find that Willie now held her gun in his grip.

Her jaw slackened. “Willie, what are you doing?”

His features tightened and his eyes watered. “Everything I believed in… I destroyed that. So many people that I loved are dead because of me. I know you think you can save me, Dom, but I can’t be saved. There’s no coming back from what I did.”

“But you didn’t do it. You were just a puppet. Junger was pulling your strings,” Domino said.

He shook his head. Tears fell. “It doesn’t matter. I still watched myself do those things. I—I can’t live with myself, not with those memories.”

“Willie…”

He looked at her. “I’m sorry, Dom. I really am.” He pressed the tip of the gun to his temple and fired.

CHAPTER 20

“We topped the list of deplorables? That’s impressive. We went from laying low to becoming Sol Corps’ most wanted in what has to be a record setting time,” Burn said drily as the crew sat around the table in Cabrón’s galley.

“At least they’re being up front and honest about it rather than coming at us sideways like before,” Kana said.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll come at us any way they can. We made an enemy with Junger, and I get the feeling that Metrell didn’t like that we survived after he spilled the beans about the Waymaker. That’s some dangerous knowledge for us to have,” Jack said.

“Don’t tell me we’ve got to get all cozied up inside an asteroid and lay low for a decade or two,” Burn said.

Veda groaned and cussed. “We’re not going to go into hiding again. I’ll take a spacewalk without a suit if we’re doing that again.”

“I’m with Veda,” Kana said. “As long as we steer clear of all the main routes and stations, it should be easy enough to evade Sol Corps, especially now that they don’t have superior technology. Plus, there’s no Sol Corps presence on Mars right now, so we can stop there for supplies.”

“We also have to steer clear of bounty hunters,” Nalla said.

“We’ll manage, just like we always have,” Kana said. “There are plenty of jobs that are under the radar. Our junking days might be over, but we made pretty good smugglers before.”

“Kana has my vote,” Veda said.

“Smuggling would be more fun than twiddling our thumbs. Then again, anything’s more fun than twiddling our thumbs,” Burn said.

“Burn’s right,” Jack said. “We can do anything we damn well feel like.”

“That sounds like the best plan I’ve heard all day,” Veda said.

Jack looked across the faces of his crew. “Nalla and Heddi, neither of you are listed as part of the crew, so you can get out of this if you want. Say the word, and we can drop you off wherever you want.”

Heddi scowled. “No way. I’m in. Always.”

Nalla took longer to reply. “I’ll stay… for now. If that’s okay with you.”

“You’ll always be a part of the crew. You know that,” Jack said.

Nalla gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

“We need to steer clear of any traffic for at least a week. It’ll take that long to finish searching the ship for any leftover Waynker bugs,” Burn said.

“And it’ll take twice that long to finish scouring the systems for any fingerprints the Waymaker left behind,” Kana said.

“The ship’s stocked. We have time before we have to take a job. I’ll make a couple of calls,” Jack said.

CHAPTER 21

Jack found Heddi in the room she shared with Nalla. She was sitting in bed, her back propped against the wall with her tablet on her knees.

He knocked on the open doorway. “Mind if I come in?”

She looked up. “Hey, Captain.”

“Call me Jack. You don’t need to call me Captain.”

She nodded. “Okay, Jack.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know if he told you yet, but Burn helped me come up with a new name.”

“Oh?” His brow rose as he stepped inside.

“Yeah. He thought I should still change my name just to make sure no one thinks I was at Pallas Six.”

Jack nodded. “It’s a good idea. And what did you come up with?”

She grinned. “Heddi Heck.”

He chuckled. “That sounds exactly like a name Burn would come up with.”

She nodded. “Yeah. He’s really good with names.”

He chuckled again. “He sure is. I’ll see about getting all the right paperwork for your name. Make it official.”

He leaned against the wall and looked around the room. Nalla’s familiar décor was in place along with a couple of newer, bolder blankets that Heddi had found to hang. “I like what you two have done with the place.”

She looked around, the pride obvious in her expression.

“Listen, kid. I know I’ve been promising you a talk, and I think it’s time we’ve had it.”

She set down her tablet, sat upright, and crossed her legs.

He was slow to begin, because he really didn’t know how to begin.

“Nalla and Burn told you about us, about the nanites,” he said finally.

She nodded.

“They tell you when they were born?”

She shrugged. “They said they were older than my grandpa.”

Jack considered his next words. “That’s right. I was born two hundred and sixty years ago, give or take.”

Her features blanched and he could see her working the numbers in her head.

“I could tell you about my life, but honestly, the years kind of blur together. I’m telling you this so that you understand us. We’ve been on our own for a really long time. After a while, it becomes hard to deal with 1.0s—that’s what we call regular folks. We each settled into our own way of doing things and found crutches to get by. Kana plays games to escape reality, Veda needs action to feel alive, Burn craves physical connection. Nalla and Caber pretended at a normal life—one with children—but that’s not possible for people like us. Caber couldn’t handle it, and Nalla tried to escape her past.”

“And you?”

He shrugged. “I survived by focusing on taking care of the crew and this ship. I keep my distance—that’s how I get by… When you came onboard, you threw a chink into a life that we’d been settled into for a long time.”

Her eyes cast downward. “You’re saying me being here is too hard on everyone.”

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that, at first, it was tough, sure, but that was a good thing. We needed to change. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now. You’ve proven that you’re handy to have around here. Burn’s always telling me about the work he’s having you do. Nalla says you’re doing great with your lessons. And I saw how much you helped the crew back at the factory.”

She frowned. “No, I didn’t. All I did was help them get free, but the Waymakers left the ship before we did anything.”

He strode over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, you did good. I know firsthand how terrifying it was to have my body frozen. When you freed the crew from the Waymaker’s control, you saved them. We had no way of knowing if the Waymaker was going to release us. I’m glad you took the initiative. In fact, it was that initiative that cemented my decision. I want you to join the crew, that is, if you want to.”

Her eyes went wide, and she jumped up and hugged Jack. “Yes, yes, yes!”

She held on and Jack had to extricate himself.

Her grin was so wide, he swore he could see all her teeth.

He couldn’t help but smile, but he managed to tamp it down with a serious expression. “All right. Welcome to the crew. Now, let’s put you to work.”

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