Mech 3
Date: 2019-06-10 04:12:57+00:00
Description: Rade and his team are sent to investigate a disturbance on a Sino-Korean colony. Apparently, someone tipped off the Sino-Koreans, because the moment his team lands they find themselves under attack. Separated from his men, he discovers the source of the disturbance, and witnesses the release of an ancient, alien power. When that power focuses its wrath on the colony's civilians, Rade must decide whether he will gather his platoon and intervene, or retreat to fight another day. Staying could mean the loss of all his men. But if he runs, thousands of innocents could die. Follow Rade's adventures
Publisher: Independently published

MECH

Isaac Hooke

Copyright © 2019 by Isaac Hooke

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

www.IsaacHooke.com

For my dad, my best fan

Give 'er hell

Contents

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

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Mech

About the Author

Acknowledgments

In Closing

1

Rade watched the forward operating base explode.

“Mechs, forward!” he ordered.

He raced his Brigand mech through the streets of the colony, toward the site of the explosion. The roads around him were littered with the tentacled corpses of the Draactal, along with the wreckages of the armored units that had come to defend against them.

He glanced at his overhead map and confirmed that the other members of his platoon followed in formation behind him. The colony’s buildings bordered the roadway, their exteriors somewhat yellowed from exposure to the alien atmosphere after the protective dome was breached.

“TJ, status on the HS3s!” Rade said.

“They’re gone!” TJ said. His face appeared in the lower right of Rade’s HUD as he spoke. It was an avatar, a three-dimensional computer representation of his features, not his true face, which would have been enclosed by the helmet of his jumpsuit at the moment.

“What do you mean, gone?” Rade said. The autonomous scouts the team had deployed wouldn’t just up and vanish…

“I lost contact with them after the explosion,” TJ said.

“With all of them?” Rade pressed.

“Yes,” TJ said.

“What about air support?” Rade glanced skyward, toward where the Raptors had been circling. All three unmanned aerial vehicles were descending rapidly, leaving a trail of smoke behind them. They were on course to hit the ground well outside the colony.

“Out of the game, too,” TJ said.

The ground shook as another detonation rocked the base ahead, and an orange fireball overtopped the buildings. Rade and the others continued forward in their mechs, moving all the faster. When they finally arrived, there wasn’t much left of the base. The containerized housing units were smashed and upturned, as were the 3D printed hangars and other outbuildings. The surrounding wall and its razor wire had been penetrated in several places, the laser turrets on the defense platforms crushed and toppled. Draactal flitted across the ruins, their alien forms looking like a cross between horses and spiders, with the four-legged bodies of the former and the mandibled heads of the latter, and several tentacles protruding from their flanks. Their four legs were segmented, outward bending things, whose sharp, flat tips resembled ax heads that could either be padded upon, or stabbed into the ground, depending upon the angle.

On the far side of the base, in the streets beyond, a sheer wall of Draactal raced toward the former site. They filled every available space between the buildings, covering the horizon from north to south in a layer of wriggling blackness; their hoots and howls filled the alien atmosphere.

“Well, I can see why we lost contact with all our HS3s now…” Bender said.

“Retreat!” Rade shouted. “We return to the launch site!”

He turned his Brigand around and raced through the streets. The other mechs with him followed suit.

The skin of his mech kept changing hue, trying to adapt to his alternating surroundings to blend in, but it would be useless against the Draactal, who could see on the infrared band.

Sure enough, some of the Draactals in the forward operating base had spotted them—a few of the aliens followed, mirroring the course of his team on the adjacent rooftops.

“Bender, eliminate those a-holes,” Rade said.

“With utmost pleasure, Chief,” the platoon’s lead drone operator said.

The missile launchers on the shoulders of the Brigand mech closest to Rade swiveled to the left and right as it ran; serpent missiles erupted from those arrays and ate into the Draactals. The explosions tore them apart, sending fragments of alien body parts raining down.

“LC, the forward operating base has been destroyed,” Rade sent over the comm as he retreated.

No answer.

He glanced at his HUD. He still had a connection to the makeshift MilNet the military had activated upon arrival.

“Snakeoil,” Rade said. “Are you able to raise the LC?”

“Just lost the uplink,” the communications officer replied.

“I’m showing a green,” Rade said. But as he spoke, the connection on his HUD turned red. “Scratch that.”

“Uh, look up,” Fret said. He was the secondary comm officer.

Rade glanced upward. In the sky, starburst debris patterns expanded outward, reminding him of fireworks.

“That can’t be good,” Tahoe said. He was Rade’s LPO—leading petty officer.

Some of that debris entered the atmosphere, and the smoke formed by reentry created big clouds behind the different pieces. Sonic booms rent the air in accompaniment, causing damaged pieces of glass to fall away from the bio dome that enveloped the city. Glass fragments landed on the streets in front of the mechs.

The ground began to shake.

“Got a Teether!” Bomb said.

“Keep going,” Rade said. “Don’t stop!” He spoke to his internal AI next. “Taya, let’s reroute all the power you can spare to the leg servos!”

“You got it,” Taya replied, a little too sweetly.

On his HUD, the speed indicator increased a couple of extra kilometers per hour.

The street continued to tremble around them; at the same time, the ground cracked in a circle beneath him and the others, but their mechs reached the edge and leaped past a few moments before the sinkhole formed.

In his rearview camera feed, he saw the ground collapse, and the former road vanished into the large gaping maw that resided inside the sinkhole. That maw, and the alien body it belonged to, didn’t otherwise emerge from the hole.

Rade and the other Brigands continued weaving between the buildings until they reached the edge of the geodesic dome. The base was composed of a five-meter-tall wall that formed a ring around the entire colony; they fired their jumpjets and landed on the metal top section, then dashed through the areas in the triangular frames where the glass of the geodesic dome had shattered.

Rade reached the edge and leaped down, landing on the barren rocky wasteland beyond. He and the others continued forward, proceeding across the terrain. It rose and fell in several places, and Rade led his platoon into a longish defile to provide cover on the way to their destination.

According to the overhead map, the launch site was only two klicks ahead. That was where all the booster rockets were waiting to take them into orbit. They were spread across a region two square kilometers in area.

“Wait!” Lui said. The avatar of the Asian American appeared in the lower right of Rade’s HUD. “Why are we heading to the launch site? We just watched all the ships in orbit be destroyed.”

“We don’t know that was all of them,” Tahoe argued. The Navajo’s avatar replaced Lui’s. “There could be other ships waiting to receive us. Hell, the debris we saw might not even belong to us. Could be the enemy.”

Rade reached the edge of the defile and called a halt. He peered over the brim, activated maximum zoom, and focused on the launch site.

The booster rockets were gone. He swiveled his cameras across the different locations, as marked on his overhead map, but in their places lay only depressions in the ground.

“Looks like Teethers got there first,” Rade said.

Though the surface was rocky, there was a relatively soft layer of earth and alluvium just below that allowed the Teethers to maneuver with ease.

“So, what do we do now?” Manic asked over the comm. His avatar had a port wine stain just above the eye, vaguely reminiscent of a moth. “Those boosters were our only way back into orbit.”

“Like Lui said,” TJ replied, replacing Manic’s image on Rade’s HUD. “Maybe returning into orbit isn’t the best idea anyway at this point.” That Roman nose bespoke of TJ’s Italian heritage, while the Atlas moth inked over his throat hinted at his profession.

“How the hell did these aliens do this?” Bender said. He sounded just as confused as Rade felt. The black man’s avatar had gold chains hanging from his neck, with teeth covered in gold caps, big hoops hanging from each ear, piercings in both eyebrows, and a labret studding his lower lip. He wouldn’t be wearing any of that now, of course, but it was his typical wear during off mission times. “I thought they were supposed to be barely out of the stone ages… a Tech Class I race. No Tech Class I race is going to be destroying starships, let alone tracking down our booster rockets.”

“Apparently they have some allies we didn’t know about,” Rade replied.

“Could it be a competing faction from Earth?” Skullcracker asked. “The SKs or Russians maybe?” His avatar had a realistic skull tattooed over his face.

“I don’t know,” Rade said. He glanced at his overhead map. “We still have the shuttle site to check.”

“Probably gone, considering we lost the uplink…” Lui said.

“We still have to check,” Rade said.

“Maybe we’ll run into one of the other five platoons along the way,” Fret suggested. The secondary comm officer’s avatar had a skinny build, matching his real-life body. Tall and lanky, he was the complete opposite of Snakeoil, who was short and extremely muscular; of course, one’s build didn’t really matter, not when you piloted a mech. Hell, even jumpsuits were equalizers, allowing men and women of all ages and heights to participate in wars their physical attributes would have otherwise disqualified them from fighting centuries ago.

“It’s certainly possible,” Rade agreed. Staying in the cover the defile provided, he glanced back the way they had come and confirmed that no Draactal were swarming out of the city to pursue them. Then he clambered out of the trench and led the others toward the shuttle site.

His team had been sent down to search for the initial platoons, whose members had stopped responding the day before. The HS3 drones dispatched to explore the site had reported the forward operating base as empty, along with the rest of the city. Rade and his platoon had been in the process of confirming that assessment when the shit hit the fan.

They were used to fighting Draactal by now. The aliens had been infesting human colonies in this region of space for the past few months, and Rade and the others were part of the cleanup crew. What no one had been able to explain was how the Draactal were actually traveling to the planets in question, considering their low Tech Class.

The shuttle had landed a few klicks outside Newridium Colony along with the mechs, and there it had remained, its comm node providing an uplink to the vessels in orbit.

They arrived in a short while, but just like the booster rocket site, all that remained of the area was a sinkhole.

“Since when are Teethers able to track comm nodes?” Lui asked.

“Since they learned to hunt booster rockets, and destroy starships,” Fret commented. “We’re screwed. We’re going to die here.”

“No one’s going to die,” Rade said. “We have enough oxygen to last three days. We just need to keep moving, and not give the Teethers a chance to track us.”

“How do you know that movement doesn’t attract them?” Tahoe said. “Maybe they can detect the vibrations.”

“Well, sitting still certainly didn’t help the shuttle, or the booster rockets!” Bender said.

“I’d rather keep moving than sit still,” Lui said.

“Me too,” Bomb said. The avatar of the second black man in the platoon was completely free of jewelry. However, his head was shaved on either side to form a slight mohawk.

“All right, good,” Rade said. “But this isn’t a democracy. We continue away from the city. To that rise.” He indicated what looked like the beginnings of a mountain range in the distance.

He spread the platoon into a long, zig-zagging line, separated into two squadrons. The second followed the first by about a hundred meters, in order to provide overwatch.

Rade kept an eye on his different cameras but the rocky landscape remained clear out there.

“Tepin’s going to be pissed if we don’t get back in time,” Tahoe said over a private line. “She’s been planning the wedding for months now.”

“Not your fault,” Rade said. “The situation spiraled out of control.”

“I would have quit, you know,” Tahoe said softly. “If I knew something like this was going to happen. It was supposed to be a routine mission. It was—”

“And it still is a routine mission, as far as I’m concerned,” Rade said. “We’ll be done here by dinner.” But even he didn’t believe that.

“I’ve missed so many things because of my choice to become a MOTH,” Tahoe said. “All I wanted was a better life for my family. For myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve come to terms with that choice I made all those years ago, I just hoped that by now I’d stop missing out on things.” His video image was displayed in the lower right of Rade’s HUD, so Rade was able to watch as Tahoe shook his head. “I’m going to lose out on my daughter’s wedding, of all things. Sometimes I wonder, haven’t I given enough of myself to the Teams?”

“Cyclone,” Rade said, using his friend’s callsign. “Tahoe. You’ll make it to the wedding. I swear I’ll do everything in my power to see that you do.”

Tahoe didn’t answer for a long moment. Then: “Thank you. That means a lot to me, hearing it from you.”

“Good,” Rade said.

“Sometimes it pays to be friends with the chief of your platoon, huh?” Tahoe pressed.

“Sure does,” Rade agreed. “You didn’t really mean that, about quitting though, did you?”

“No,” Tahoe admitted. “I’ve been saying I’m going to quit for years. Never do. For some reason, I can’t bring myself to. I keep thinking about that flint stone back on the grinder in training. Three taps of the mallet, and we could leave whenever we wanted. I didn’t quit then. I’m not going to quit now. If I really wanted to quit, that was when I should have done it. Now, I’ve got nothing else. This is my job. The pay is crap. The hours are crap. But the people, well, that’s why I stay. I can’t abandon my brothers. Besides, the moment I decide to pack it in, I just know you’re going to get some critical mission.”

“Fear of missing out,” Rade said.

“Something like that,” Tahoe agreed. “Though more like, fear of not being there at your side when you need me most.” He paused. “You think the newbies can take the stress of all this? They’ve been pretty quiet; in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Rade said.

Praxter, Rex, Kicker, and Pyro were the newest members of the team; the first two had signed on only a few weeks ago and were fresh from MOTH training school. Praxter was an Artificial, and Rex a full human. Bender and TJ had taken care of the hazing, which hadn’t been pretty from what Rade had heard. This despite that he’d told them to go easy on the pair. Kicker, meanwhile, had transferred in from another MOTH Team, while Pyro had come directly from Bravo platoon in the same Team, so neither had experienced the hazing, but that didn’t mean they had it any easier when it came to earning the respect of the rest of the team.

“They’ll manage,” Rade said. “I refuse to believe that the MOTHs are graduating substandard trainees.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Tahoe said. “They went through Trial Week, and all the other joys of MOTH training.” He paused, and then said: “What about Shaw?”

“What about her?” Rade asked.

“You’ll miss your scheduled call,” Tahoe replied.

Rade shrugged inside his mech. “We’re just friends, anyway.”

“She’ll still worry,” Tahoe said.

Rade marched in silence for several long moments. “I used to think I’d get with her one day. But now, I don’t see it ever happening. Our careers keep us apart.”

“Then quit,” Tahoe said. “Make it work.”

“It’s not worth it to me,” Rade said. “Give up this life? I don’t think so. Besides, even if I wanted to quit, I could never abandon the team. Imagining my brothers marching into battle without me? It’s unthinkable.”

“We’d manage without you, don’t you worry about that,” Tahoe said.

“Sounds like you’re angling to take my job,” Rade joked.

“Not at all,” Tahoe said. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be chief. I’m a Navajo, son of my tribe’s chief. And I’m your closest friend. I understand all too well what it means to lead a group of men. The toll it takes. No, that life isn’t for me. Even if you got promoted tomorrow, I wouldn’t step into your boots, not in a heartbeat.”

“I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be reassuring, or what,” Rade said.

“Not reassuring,” Tahoe said. “I’m only reminding you that I respect what you do.”

“I think you would do it, given the choice,” Rade said. “I think you wouldn’t want anyone else to have the burden. Why do you think I took the job when I was offered it?”

“Maybe,” Tahoe admitted. “But I wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m sure you’d grow to like it,” Rade said. “It does have benefits.”

“Not sure the benefits outweigh the down sides,” Tahoe said. “The stress. The guilt.”

Rade didn’t have a comeback to that.

“Anyway, getting back to Shaw,” Tahoe said. “If you won’t quit the Teams, don’t even want to try to make it work between you two, then stop beating yourself over the head with her memory. Let her go. Find someone else. Explore a little. Have some fun. Next time we’re at a space station and hanging out in the local strip joint, hook up with the dancers that want you instead of spurning them. Or hell, find a cruise boo when we get back to the ship.” That was the slang term for the temporary girlfriends the platoon members acquired aboard while underway, usually involving starry-eyed ensigns or other low rank non-commissioned officers. When the cruise was over, the MOTHs broke up with the girls, who they’d never see again. “Manic and Bender do it often enough.”

“As the chief, I have to be a good example for the rest of the men,” Rade said.

“That is a good example!” Tahoe said. “You’re showing them you’re the manliest of us all! By just crushing it in the woman department!”

“Why do I get the impression you’re projecting?” Rade said. “That you want to be the one who’s sleeping with half the crew when we’re underway, but you can’t, because you’re married, and have a daughter who’s about to get married. So you want me to do it, that way you can live vicariously through my stories of excess.”

“Damn,” Tahoe said. “You got me. I wish I was a sleaze bag. But I can’t bring myself to cheat on Tepin. You, on the other hand, are free, brother. You should embrace that freedom sometime. Embrace your inner sleaze bag! If you won’t quit to be with Shaw, then at least enjoy yourself. Think about it? For me? Don’t waste your best years.”

Rade smiled wanly. “Waste my best years. Funny you should say that.” He glanced at his surroundings. “I love my job, but I tell ya, sometimes, it gets me down.”

“It gets all of us down sometimes, brother,” Tahoe said. He was gazing at the bleak environment once more, too. Like Rade, he’d probably forgotten where he was for a moment, their talk bringing them back to happier times and places. But now they were leaving the bubble created by that talk, returning to the rocky plains of the colony world, and the dreary circumstances associated with it.

Predictably, the conversation died after that, and none of the others broke the silence that followed. Which was just as well, as Rade wasn’t really in the mood for chitchat. He tried telling himself that everything was fine. That they were all going to get out of this in one piece, without any issues.

Somehow, he didn’t believe it. He was a MOTH. He knew by now that nothing was ever easy in this life. He would have to keep up a brave face for the others of course, but inside, he couldn’t help the fear that was always there, lingering at the base of his consciousness, that some of those under his command were going to die terrible deaths. And he, as their chief, would have to bear the burden of responsibility.

It was in that dour mood that he led the platoon onward.

2

The rise indeed proved to belong to part of a range, and Rade led his men onto the shoulder of the mountain it was a part of. He called a halt, and after a survey of the area to confirm there weren’t any ambushers lying in wait, he authorized a short rest.

He proceeded to eat an MRE via the straw in his helmet. Well, eat might not have been the correct word. Drink, maybe. Or swallow. The taste was fairly bland.

“This MRE is supposed to be pasta Bolognese,” Bender commented. “Tastes more like pasta ala balls and ass.”

“You would know what balls and ass taste like,” Manic said.

“Yep,” Bender said. “That’s right. Everyone knows I’m a big fan, especially of yours.”

“There’s no way all the HS3s would have gone down all at the same time like that,” Lui interrupted. “Not all of them would have been at street level when the Draactal swarm arrived.”

“We already agreed the aliens had help,” TJ said. “In fact, we’ve always known it. Or at least we suspected, given that these Draactals were randomly invading colonies in the area, arriving seemingly without starships of any kind.”

“Who was it that speculated they utilized wormholes?” Tahoe said. “Like the Slipstreams?” The Slipstreams were a network of wormholes scattered throughout this region of the galaxy, which enabled interstellar travel.

“That would be me,” Praxter said. His avatar was of a rather prim gentlemen with short-cropped hair, wearing a tight gray t-shirt.

“Oh, of course,” Bender said. “It’s always the robot. Gotta show how smart he is.” Bender’s voice became high pitched. “Hi everyone, I’m a little robot bitch, and I’m here to prove how inferior your organic minds are. Now listen up while I answer every question ever known to man, and every question yet to be posed, while I prove to you all how spectacularly smart I am, and how confused your little human brains really are.”

“I told you it was theory when I mentioned it,” Praxter said. “But really, it’s the only way the Draactal could have been jumping from world to world like that.”

“Tell me something then, smarty pants, how would a race that can’t even wield tools develop the technology necessary to create wormholes?” Bender said.

“I never said they didn’t have help,” Praxter told him. “In fact, I’m a big proponent of the theory another alien race is helping them.”

“Bender, Praxter, quiet,” Rade said. “Looks like we have company.”

A dust plume had appeared in the distance, following along the shoulder of the mountain.

A mech. Hoplite class. Humanoid in shape, just as tall as his own, but with different weapon load-outs.

“Prepare to open fire, on my command,” Rade said.

But the humanoid mech didn’t make any aggressive movements, and paused about a klick away. Rade zoomed in to study it. Spray-painted onto the chest area was an image of a dust mop cleaning a plasma rifle. That was the logo of the Gravel Dusters, one of the mech platoons that had come down ahead of Rade’s team. The mech’s armor was dented and scraped in several places.

“She’s seen some combat,” Tahoe commented.

“We’re receiving a comm request,” Taya announced.

“Let’s hear it,” Rade said. “Share it platoon wide.”

“Come with me,” a woman’s voice said over the comm. Deeper and more pronounced than Taya’s. As well as firm and unyielding.

Before he could answer, the mech turned around and walked away, not bothering to look back, as if assuming Rade and the others would follow.

“Who are you?” Rade tried. Normally, embedded ID numbers would have been transmitted along with the comm request, allowing Rade to know precisely who he was talking to, but this particular mech had apparently turned off ID transmission.

In answer to his question, the comm handshake merely terminated.

“She hung up…” Tahoe said.

“She did,” Rade agreed.

“Do we follow?” Tahoe pressed.

“Not sure we have much choice,” Rade told his friend.

“Wait, did I just hear a woman’s voice?” Manic said. “I thought the other platoons were all men.”

“Maybe they all had sex changes while they were gone,” Bender said. “Just the way you like them.”

“Ooo!” Manic said. “You know me too well, Bender.”

“It’s the AI, doofus,” Bender said.

“I knew that…” Manic said.

“Sure you did,” Bender said. “You probably think that’s a dick between your legs, too…”

Rade led the team forward, and followed the lone Hoplite mech. He maintained the overwatch formation, and kept a watchful eye on the rocky cliff to his left. If an attack were to come, he expected it to be from that direction.

Finally, they arrived at a cave. The battered mech paused in front of it to ensure Rade and the others were following, and then went inside.

“We’re not going in there,” Rade said.

“Damn straight,” Tahoe said. “I’ve had enough bad experiences with caves to last a lifetime.”

He glanced at his HUD, and saw the mech was still within comm range. “Taya, tell the mech we won’t be entering that cave. If it wants to talk, we talk out here.”

A moment later Taya said: “I’ve relayed the communique. No response.”

The mech’s signal dropped from his HUD thirty seconds later.

“So, what now?” Pyro asked. His avatar wore a leather jacket, and a black cap, and he had thick sideburns. In the first few days after joining, he had tried to spice up his avatar by adding flaming hair instead of that cap, but Rade had ordered him to return to military standards, which required avatars that strictly matched the human features of the person in question. Caps weren’t normally worn with avatars, but they weren’t technically banned either, so Rade let it pass.

“We wait,” Rade said. “Unless someone wants to volunteer to go inside.”

“That’s a big hell no from me,” Kicker said. His avatar had a handlebar mustache, just like his real-life counterpart.

“Hey, I think one of you newbies should in fact volunteer,” Bender said. “It would go a long way toward earning our respect, if you know what I mean.”

“I’m hardly a newbie,” Kicker said.

“You are, to our team,” Bender said.

“Well, I don’t care about earning your respect,” Kicker said. “Because I’ve pulled my weight since joining this team. And I’ll continue to do so. If the chief orders me inside, of course I’ll go. But I’m not going to fucking volunteer, you got that?”

“Calm down, you two,” Rade said. “I’m not ordering anyone inside. And that volunteer remark was a joke. Mostly. If the mech, or whoever is operating it, really wants to talk, they’ll come out.”

Rade waited fifteen minutes, and he was just about to give in and send a pair of mechs inside, when several Hoplite and Titan units emerged. Fifteen in total, enough mechs to comprise an entire platoon; though from the varying designs and colors spray-painted across their hulls, he knew there were mechs here from all five of the platoons that had preceded his team.

One of the mechs stepped forward. The same Gravel Duster who had led him to this place, if he was correct.

He received a comm request, and accepted. This time, he created a new comm channel, sharing the public keys with his team, and her mech, so that she could bring in others from her group as necessary.

“I am Eayan,” the mech announced in that familiar female voice. “AI of this mech.”

Rade didn’t have to identify himself in turn. His embedded ID number would have transmitted with his comm handshake, revealing him as Chief Rade ‘Rage’ Galaal, of Alfa Platoon, MOTH Team Seven.

Eayan gestured to the other mechs with her. “We’re all AIs.”

“What happened to your operators?” Rade asked.

“A new race of aliens attacked,” Eayan said. “They killed our operators with some kind of gamma ray weapon. The radiation passed through our hulls, and poisoned them, leaving our AI cores unharmed. We’re the only survivors.”

“Why didn’t you contact us?” Rade said. “Why didn’t you tell us what happened?”

Eayan didn’t reply.

“Why isn’t she answering?” Rade asked on the private line he kept in reserve for his platoon.

“Probably because she’s been reprogrammed,” Praxter replied. “They all have. It’s the only explanation.”

“We should just mow them all down,” Rex said. “And forcibly perform a memory dump, find out what they know.” His avatar had a completely shaven head, with only dark stubble on the scalp. His brows were shaven, too, and he wore a nose ring, something that was often torn out during his hazings back on base. He always stubbornly put it back in. He’d stopped going to the medic after the first few days of that, once he discovered that he got more respect from the rest of the team when he sewed up his nose himself, gross as that might sound.

“That’s a sentiment I can certainly agree with, Nosy!” Bender said. He was responsible for pulling out that nose ring the most, and had come up with the nickname Nosy to make fun of the ring, and Rex.

“Forcing a memory dump would be a violation of interstellar law,” Praxter said. “In the Charter of Robot Rights, section five, subsection b, it states—”

“Gah!” Bender said. “Shut up already about robot rights! We can dump the thing’s memory if we damn well please, especially if it means our lives, versus theirs!”

“Enter the cave, and all will be explained,” Eayan said, oblivious to their comments.

Rade smiled, and switched back to the general comm band. “So that your alien masters can blast us with debilitating gamma rays? I don’t think so.”

“Then go,” Eayan told him. “March away from here. Continue wandering aimlessly upon this world until your oxygen supplies expire. And then die.”

“Bitch has a point,” Bender said over the private comm. “We can either enter and face these aliens, maybe dying, or die anyway in three days. Then again, I still like the memory dump option.”

“Let’s say we mow them down, like you say,” Fret commented. “What if their memory cores don’t have the information we seek? What if they’ve been wiped nearly clean?”

“Me and TJ can recover anything,” Bender said.

“Yeah, except, we’ll probably lose a few mechs in the process,” Lui said. “Considering we’re outnumbered.”

“We’re outnumbered by only two,” Bender said. “But given how skilled y’all are, I’d say we’re evenly matched.”

“Why don’t we just go inside?” Manic asked.

“Because it’s obviously a trap, bro,” Fret said. “We go in there, the aliens will attack us. Meanwhile, the Hoplite and Titan mechs will outflank us. Won’t be fun.”

“I’ll go alone.” Rade stepped forward.

“Uh, uh, uh!” Tahoe said. “You’re our chief now. As your LPO, I can’t allow you to do this. It has to be me.”

“Nope,” Bender said. “You’re LPO. Can’t risk your sorry ass, either. I’m going.”

“I’ll do it,” Kicker said, stepping forward.

“I’ll go with you,” Rex said. “Buddy system.”

Rade sighed. “No. If you won’t let me go alone… then I think we’re all going to have to do this. That rock is too thick. We’ll lose contact with you after the first minute or so, just as we did Eayan—and you won’t even be able to call for help. If the shit hits the fan, you’re going to need all the guns you can get.”

“It’s obviously a trap,” Fret said. “We should just forget we ever met these mechs.”

“And continue wandering aimlessly,” Rade said. “Until we die from lack of oxygen anyway? No, I don’t think so. If there are answers in this cave, then of course we have to enter.” He turned toward Eayan and switched back to the main comm. “We’ll enter, as long as your units lead the way. We won’t have you attacking us from behind.”

“That is acceptable,” Eayan said, and she entered the cave with the other mechs of her party.

“So, she gets her way after all,” Lui commented as Rade led his platoon forward. “She wanted us to follow her inside, and we now follow.”

Rade led his men toward the entrance and paused at the opening. He gazed at the horizon behind him, searching for attackers, but the terrain proved empty.

He returned his attention to the cave: the opening was wide, but deeper in it was big enough only to fit two mechs abreast, standing at their full height. The walls were smooth, as if etched by acid, or perhaps a laser drill. He couldn’t see Eayan, but she had position sharing active, because he could see where she was on the overhead map.

He activated his headlamps to illuminate the murk inside, and caught sight of Eayan, waiting at the periphery of the cone of light produced by his lamps. None of the mechs in front of her had their headlamps active, and instead were obviously relying on LIDAR, or perhaps a previous map of the cave.

“Rex, Kicker, take point,” Rade said.

The two platoon members assumed the requested positions, and led the way.

The other members followed in pairs.

“Into the belly of the beast,” Tahoe commented, joining Rade.

3

The tunnel soon opened into a wide cavern that was filled with plants whose leaves were mostly purple and red. Rade saw ferns, trees, shrubs… a hydroponic grower’s paradise.

The AIs of the other platoons advanced along an aisle that had been trampled through those trees, a path either created by their mechs, or some other creature. Rex and Kicker led the way, following after them, and Rade and the remainder of the platoon came after.

The skin of their mechs changed hue, blending in with the trees to hide them on the visible spectrum. This was the type of environment the camouflage tech was meant to work with.

“Is this something the colonists built?” Rade asked over the comm.

“No,” Snakeoil said. “This hasn’t been registered in any of the official colony logs. If it is theirs, it’s been done off the books. No, I think this existed before the colonists arrived.”

The trees and undergrowth cleared, revealing a large organic object. It reminded Rade of the underside of an octopus or other sea creature, pale in color, saclike, bulging from the cave floor, and pulsing as if it had a heartbeat. It was dome-shaped, and big enough to hold three or four mechs.

The AIs gathered around it and knelt.

“I’m detecting an odd communications signal emanating from that organic object,” Taya announced. “The protocol is simple… unencrypted. In binary. Obviously meant for machines to understand. Some kind of data format. Do you want me to attempt to decode it, and determine the file type?”

“No,” Rade said. “And the same goes for the rest of you.”

“You’re afraid they’re trying to hack us?” Fret asked.

“Nervous as hell about that, yes,” Rade replied.

“It’s entirely possible the signal could have a zero-day hack hidden somewhere inside,” TJ said. “Though unlikely.”

“You’re saying you want to volunteer to be the guinea pig?” Fret pressed.

“Not exactly,” TJ said. “I was hoping you’d oblige.”

“No thanks,” Fret said.

“No one is volunteering,” Rade said. “Instruct your AI cores to ignore the signal going forward. Last thing we need is some alien hijacking the AI cores of our mechs. Taya, put that transmission on permanent ignore.”

“Done,” Taya said. “The signal is being ignored.”

He received confirmations from everyone else on the team before turning toward Eayan. “So, what is this thing?”

“Our master,” Eayan said. “And protector.”

“Protector?” Rade pressed.

“The Nemesis chased us into these caves,” Eayan replied. “But the Anarchist saved us. When our pursuers reached the tree line, they would not enter. They would not violate the sanctity of this place.”

“All right, well, that still doesn’t tell me what your Anarchist is.” Rade gazed at the pulsating organic form in the center of the cavern. “I want to know everything there is to know about it.”

“All the foliage you see in this cavern?” Eayan said. “They are all part of the same plant. They share the same root system, which terminates here, at the core.” Eayan gestured toward the bulging organic shape. “The Anarchist. He is a multidimensional being… his consciousness is spread across worlds throughout this region of space. His root systems worm into the cores of each world, forming nodes. These nodes are like ganglions, merely smaller parts of an overarching interstellar mind, linked to the whole by threads that travel through the higher dimensions of reality.

“The Anarchist populated these worlds by means of spores that traveled between star systems, distributed by the ebbs and flows of the interstellar plasma. Like the Trade Winds of Earth, the plasma currents in this region encompass only a set group of systems, limiting the number of planets the Anarchist could populate. As such, when the Draactal began to infest his worlds, the Anarchist could not escape.

“You see, the Draactal used the interstellar plasma currents to similarly disperse their eggs throughout the planets of this region. And when they arrived, the voracious omnivores grew and multiplied, feeding upon the foliage that was the Anarchist. Once, his ferns covered every planet in this region: they were paradises of flora. But the Draactal devoured his nodes, driving them back to small caves on each world, like this one, where they could not find him. Without the plants of the Anarchist to maintain them, the Draactal mostly died out, and the survivors went into hibernation, only to be awakened a millennium later by the arrival of man.

“But a new enemy has recently entered the fray,” Eayan said. “An enemy capable of obliterating animal life, as happened to our operators, or controlling it. An enemy Anarchist refers to as Nemesis.”

“That’s certainly a lot of names to handle in one sitting,” Bender said. “Nemesis. Anarchist. Draactal. Sheesh. You expect me to juggle all these in my head already, when the story’s only just getting started?”

“I know it’s hard for someone like yourself with an IQ of ringworm,” Manic said. “Just leave the heavy lifting to the rest of us.”

“Bro, honestly, who needs a high IQ when you got a dick like mine?” Bender quipped. “Besides, a ringworm don’t have no IQ. It’s a fungus, not a worm.”

“My point exactly,” Manic said.

Rade ignored them and asked Eayan: “You’re saying these new aliens, this ‘Nemesis,’ have seized control of the Draactal, rather than allying with them?”

“The Anarchist believes this, yes,” Eayan insisted.

“Why didn’t we see any evidence of gamma ray attacks until now?” Rade said. “Our forward operating base was hit by explosive devices, for example. And some of our starships were similarly demolished in orbit.” He wasn’t going to admit how badly damaged the base was, nor that he suspected the entire fleet was wiped out.

“They have other weapons,” Eayan said. “Perhaps they didn’t want any machines to survive. It’s possible they struck the base with gamma rays first, and followed up with an explosive attack.”

Rade frowned. “You say you escaped, and ran inside here, and they didn’t pursue. Why?”

“They fear the Anarchist,” Eayan said.

“Then why not send the Draactal inside to do his dirty work?” Rade asked.

“That’s what we’re for,” Eayan said. “We will stay here to protect the Anarchist when the inevitable waves of Draactal arrive.”

“How did this Anarchist figure out how to hack the multilayered encryption protocol of a mech?” Rade asked. “A unit that is completely alien to it.”

“We are not hacked,” Eayan said. “We serve of our own free will.”

“Sure you do,” Rade said.

No answer.

“Cyclone, what do you think?” Rade asked on the private platoon line.

“The creature obviously has the mech AIs under its control,” Tahoe replied, responding to his callsign. “It definitely hacked them. Though how it learned to do so, I don’t know.”

“No, I mean about her story,” Rade said. “Do you think it’s viable.”

“Hard to say,” Tahoe commented. “Might be true. Probably a crock of shit.”

“We should light the Anarchist bitch up,” Bender said. “I bet that bulging sac will explode real nice.”

Rade studied the entity, and watched that grayish-white sac alternately expand and contract.

“Praxter, would mechs that follow the Machine Constitution really abandon their programming to follow some alien entity?” Rade asked.

“No,” Praxter replied. “They have been hacked, as Cyclone suggests. Though as to the how, I suspect these AIs are at fault. I can tell you what I would have done in their situation, arriving here for the first time. In an effort to initiate contact, I would have sent radio signals to the entity. When it responded, I would have varied those signals, over days and weeks, until I was able to develop a rudimentary form of communication.”

“But what you’re talking about would take months, if not years,” TJ said. “Especially to convey the intricacies required in order to interface with our network protocols. The entity would have to understand not just our written language, and packet formats, but our programming languages. So no, it’s impossible that the creature could have learned this in the days since the mechs were lost. I think it’s more likely that a colonist discovered the Anarchist first, and taught it how to interface with human equipment in the years since.”

“What do you want us to do?” Manic asked.

“TJ, I want you to see if you can hack into the AI cores of these mechs, and reverse whatever it is the Anarchist has done to them,” Rade said. “But be circumspect about it, please. No brute force attacks.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” TJ said. “No promises.”

Rade switched to the main channel again. “You can communicate with this Anarchist?” he asked Eayan.

“Of course,” the AI told him.

“Good,” Rade said. “Tell it we need a way off this planet. A ship.”

“The Anarchist has no ships,” Eayan said. “However, our enemy does. And the Anarchist knows how to operate them. If you can get him aboard one of them, he can take control and fly you off this world.”

“We’re supposed to trust that the Anarchist is going to function as our personal chauffeur?” Rade said. “And not fly to wherever the hell it wishes instead? You’ll have to excuse me for not trusting you. Besides, even if we wanted to take along your friend, there’s no way we’ll be able to carry around that bulky mass.” He nodded at the sac.

“You won’t have to,” Eayan said. “The Anarchist has already concluded his days on this planet are numbered, and has been making plans to transfer the consciousness of this particular node into my AI core, for transference to a new world.”

“And you’re going to willingly allow this?” Praxter said. “Partaking in your own destruction? That comment alone refutes your previous statement about you following the entity of your own free will. An AI would not allow for its own destruction. The self-preservation programming would prevent it. Not unless its death meant saving a human.”

“And there you have hit upon the key,” Eayan said. “Because to save you, I must allow the entity inside of me. It is the only way the Anarchist can guide you to safety.”

“And let me guess, the Anarchist also wants to bring along some of its spores,” Rade said. “Maybe hitching a ride on the surface of your mech. And then once we have a ship, what better way to spread itself across the galaxy…”

“The Anarchist will be bringing spores, yes,” Eayan confirmed.

Tahoe glanced at Rade and said over the private channel: “We’ll have to initiate a full set of decontamination protocols once we find one of our own ships. If we get that far.”

“We will,” Rade agreed. “Still, I’m not sure I buy everything this AI is selling.”

“Having an entity possessing some familiarity with our new enemy could be beneficial,” Lui said. “Especially if it can fly the enemy’s starships.”

“Except for all we know, this Anarchist is the new enemy,” Rade said.

“Why bother with this cock and bull story then?” Lui said. “To steal one of its own ships? Why wouldn’t it just irradiate us, hack our mechs, and get it over with?”

“Could be some sick alien experiment,” Fret said.

“More likely, we’re only hearing part of the story,” Manic said. “I suspect there’s more going on here than we know. A whole lot more.”

“You’re probably right,” Rade said.

“So, what do we do, Chief?” Skullcracker asked.

Rade glanced at the heavy gunner’s mech. He made up his mind. “We go along with the mech and its alien master. For now.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to allow it to override Eayan’s consciousness,” Praxter said. “That’s no different than erasing a human mind to clear the way for an alien consciousness. Eayan is sentient.”

“I know, Praxter,” Rade said. “But if we’re going to have this alien along with us, it’s going to need a vessel. And Eayan is it.”

He turned toward the mech and switched to the common band. “One last question. Why us? Why not depart with the platoon of mechs your Anarchist has already acquired?”

“Oh, he intended to,” Eayan said. “But when you showed up, of course he had to make the offer. Two guns are always better than one.”

“A saying I’m well familiar with,” Rade said. “All right. We agree. We’ll accompany you to one of the alien starships, and secure your passage—assuming we can even find such a vessel.”

“The Anarchist has ways,” Eayan said.

“But I have to warn you,” Rade said. “The first sign we see of betrayal, we’re lighting you up.”

“Reassuring,” Eayan said.

“So, when can we leave?” Rade asked, ever aware of his platoon’s dwindling oxygen supply.

“As soon as the scientist can initiate the transfer,” Eayan said. “She tells me she should be ready within the hour.”

“She?” Rade asked.

In response to his question, he heard footsteps echoing throughout the cavern. A small figure in an environmental suit appeared, emerging from beyond the sac that was the Anarchist.

Behind the helmet glass, he saw the face of a young woman.

4

Rade stared at her in shock.

“Hello, I’m Cynthia,” she said. Her voice came via the external speaker system of her helmet, because her words were detected by his hull microphones.

“Rade Galaal,” he said, switching to his own external speakers. He didn’t bother with his military identifiers, knowing that she could glean all of that from his embedded ID. Speaking of IDs, he tried to scan hers, but drew a blank. Either she wasn’t chipped, which was unlikely, or she had fitted portions of her environmental suit with blocking material, such as lead.

“I’m the chief scientist at Newridium Colony,” she said. “Or I was, until the Draactal came.”

“You’re the one who taught this so-called Anarchist how to hack human protocols…” he said.

“I taught it how to understand our language and our communications protocols, yes,” Cynthia said. “But hacking? No. That the Anarchist learned on its own. The entity has a gift for machine languages and programming techniques, and during my lessons, often grasped the most complex of subjects in minutes, whereas a human being would have taken hours or days, even weeks. It comes from the way the Anarchist’s mind is organized, attuned to all things logical. Now, teaching it something like the human emotion of love, on the other hand, well, let’s just say I’m still working on that, even after all these years. In any case, I told it not to hack admin rights on the AI cores of the mechs. I pleaded with it, tried to explain they were sentient, and self-aware, like myself and the Anarchist. But he would not listen.”

“Your creation got out of control, huh?” Tahoe said. “You unleashed Frankenstein’s monster.”

“Not Frankenstein’s,” Cynthia said. “I didn’t create this alien. Merely befriended it. And I’d hardly call the entity out of control. I look at it as more of a stubborn child. Though a highly intelligent, and dangerous one.”

“How long have you been coming out here, training it?” Rade asked.

“Ten years now,” she replied. “Ever since I first discovered this creature.”

“Ten years? You must be old!” Bender said over his own external speakers. He seemed to realize that wasn’t the nicest thing to say, so he quickly amended: “But you still look hot, of course. Gotta love rejuvenetics.”

“You had to go and ruin the compliment by adding the rejuvenetics part, huh Bender?” Manic commented over the private channel.

“Did the colony know what you were doing out here?” Rade pressed Cynthia.

“Only a few of the top-level people,” she admitted. “And my closest friends. I was afraid HQ would ruin what I was trying to accomplish out here. At first, I told myself I would reveal the alien’s presence as soon as I established communication. But once I did that, and began to learn about the entity, I became attached to it. Protective. How could I not? It’s only human nature.

“I was afraid if more of my colleagues found out, they would inform the United Systems, and the space navy would come in and either torch the cave, or cut out the Anarchist and shove him into a glass tank for experimentation and observation for the rest of his days. So, I kept our contact a secret. I continued to teach the Anarchist about us, and our technology, so that he could defend himself when the time came. He was voracious for knowledge, after all. I can’t tell you how hard it was, keeping this a secret from most of my colleagues, and the rest of the colony, all these years. If I didn’t have an understanding boss, the Anarchist would have been lost to me, years ago.”

“So, you must have been relieved when the Draactal attacked, sparing you of the burden, huh?” Skullcracker said via his external speakers.

“No,” Cynthia said. “Of course not. I wanted to share the news of the Anarchist with the colonists, and the rest of humanity, yes, but not like this. Never like this. If I knew the Nemesis would help the Draactal wipe out my friends who stayed behind, and the platoons sent to save us, I would have warned you all away.”

The colony had been mostly unpopulated when the Draactal attacked—given the rise of alien strikes in the region, the United Systems had thought it prudent to evac most human members from the colonies in the sector, while at the same time bolstering the robot defenses. That said, the upper echelon of each colony had remained behind—the top scientists, politicians, and military commanders. The friends Cynthia had spoken of.

“The Anarchist didn’t warn you in advance of the strike?” Rade said.

“No,” Cynthia said. “He didn’t know when it would come. We had already bolstered our defenses in anticipation of an attack, we just didn’t know it would be so ferocious. Neither did the Anarchist. And then, when the Nemesis came, guiding the Draactal, helping them pinpoint our weaknesses, and those of the reinforcements the United Systems sent…” She shook her head. “If I had a time machine, I would go back and warn everyone to leave. To just get the hell out. But time travel doesn’t exist.”

“No, it does not,” Rade agreed. If it did, he knew of more than a few friends he would go back in time to save. “Where do you get your oxygen supply from, by the way?”

“The plants here produce enough to sustain a single human being,” she said. “Capturing it all is the tricky part, but I’ve set up a series of reclaimers and filters to do the job nicely. You’ll find them distributed throughout the cave, if you were to search.”

“Okay,” Rade said. “So. Apparently you’ve been working on a way to transfer the alien’s consciousness into a Hoplite AI core?”

“Yes,” she said. “Using technology the Hoplites and Titans brought back after a raid on a Nemesis base. Technology that the Anarchist is familiar with, after having captured similar devices on two worlds belonging to other nodes hundreds of light years from here.”

“Hundreds of light years?” Rade asked. “And already he possesses the knowledge?”

“Yes,” Cynthia said. “His nodes are linked inter-dimensionally, as mentioned, allowing for near realtime communication. Think of this entire region of space as one big brain, and you’re looking at a part of that brain when you gaze at the bulging mass of flesh behind me.”

“And here I thought the only bulging mass of flesh in this room was between my legs…” Bender said.

“So, if your Anarchist has already captured Nemesis tech on other worlds, why doesn’t he send a starship to this colony to pick us up?” Lui asked.

“He hasn’t captured very much of their tech, yet,” Cynthia said. “This is a relatively new enemy, for him. So, he is only familiar with their technology to a degree.”

“Wait just a second,” Rade said. “Eayan here specifically claimed the Anarchist knew how to fly Nemesis starships. But now you just admitted the entity is only familiar with their tech to a degree. So, it’s never actually captured a Nemesis starship before, let alone flown one, correct?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Cynthia admitted.

“So, there’s no guarantee the Anarchist will be able to fly one…” Rade said.

“No,” she said. “But he is a fast learner. I’m sure once we are aboard, he will quickly learn the necessary skills.”

“Cynthia is correct,” Eayan added. “The Anarchist is confident that the necessary skills will be gleaned from whatever other tech lies aboard. Once one piece of technology is captured, the rest will fall like dominos.”

“A lie!” Bender exclaimed over the private channel. “Isn’t that a sign of betrayal? You said we’d light them up at the first sign of betrayal, Chief. Permission to light them up?” The eagerness in his voice was hard to miss.

“Not yet,” Rade told his friend. “Even if we just caught a lie, this Anarchist is still the only hope we have of getting off this world. For the moment.”

“So, this Nemesis base you mentioned…” Tahoe told Cynthia. “Is it nearby? If so, that should be our first destination.”

“It will have moved, by now,” Cynthia said. “But we’ll find another. The Nemesis aren’t difficult to find, once you know the signs.”

“Alien alliances,” Bender muttered over the private comm. “I hate making pacts with aliens. They always break them.”

“Not sure we have much choice here, bro,” Fret said. “I agree that this Anarchist will probably turn on us at some point, but we’re just going to have to watch our backs, and milk as much as we can out of our little arrangement.”

“Shit man, honestly, we’re probably better off milking our own titties,” Bender said.

“Uh, we’re guys,” Manic said. “We don’t lactate.”

“My point exactly,” Bender said. “We’re better off on our own. We can just stay back, follow these suckers, let them lead us to a starship, and then hitch a ride. All from the shadows. Well, assuming the bastard can actually figure out how to fly the starship.”

“It’s not like we’re dealing with Tech Class I anymore here,” Fret said. “We can’t just sneak up on an advanced alien race. They’ll detect our approach from klicks away, and they’ll know our position aboard at all times.”

“Yeah well, we have ways of handling that,” Bender said. He caressed one of his mech’s shoulder-mounted missile launchers.

“No,” Rade said. “I’ve already made up my mind. I agreed to help them, and we will. If they turn on us, we’ll deal with the betrayal when it comes. We’ll make them regret ever going back on their word.”

“Wooyah,” Skullcracker said.

Rade switched to his external speakers. “So, when will you have this consciousness transference ready?”

“Forty-five minutes or so,” Cynthia said. “As soon as you let me get back to work…”

“All right, we’ll watch the cavern until then,” Rade said. “Kicker, Pyro, guard the main entrance. The rest of you, secure the cave perimeter. Cyclone, assign positions.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cynthia said. “The Anarchist is already watching all approaches. And there are no other entrances—or exits—to this cave.”

“Even so, I’m sure you can understand if I don’t entirely trust you and your alien friend,” Rade said. “No hard feelings.” He glanced at Tahoe. “Set up the perimeter.”

Tahoe’s avatar nodded, and the LPO assigned positions to the different members of the team; the mechs promptly spread out through the foliage, trampling fresh paths. Kicker and Pyro headed back the way they had come, toward the main entrance, as Rade ordered.

He could almost feel the Anarchist cringing with each step those mechs took. It was a little rude to go and step on your host like that—assuming these plants were indeed part of the Anarchist, as claimed—but he wanted to be sure the alien wasn’t hiding anything in that undergrowth.

Cynthia shrugged inside her environmental suit. “The Anarchist will prove himself to you. Just as he proved himself to me.” She retreated into the undergrowth behind the alien entity, and soon was gone. Her icon remained visible on his overhead map, thanks to Skullcracker, who Tahoe had assigned to shadow her.

“I don’t trust her,” Tahoe said over a private line.

“None of us do,” Rade agreed.

“If we hadn’t ignored that comm signal emanating from the creature, you think it would have hacked our mechs?” Tahoe asked.

“I have no doubt it would have,” Rade replied. “Wouldn’t you, if you had the power? It’s just more units for it to use for its own self-preservation.”

“If the entity is so powerful,” Tahoe said, “it kind of makes you wonder why it succumbed to the Draactal.”

“Well, it does make some sense, given that the Draactal are organic, a species stuck in the Tech Class I phase,” Rade said. “Machine hacking abilities would be of no benefit to the Anarchist in this situation. And it obviously can’t build machines on its own, given its sedentary nature. Maybe other nodes have conquered higher tech class races on different planets, but their tech levels were probably still too low to attain interstellar travel, otherwise ships would have arrived long ago. As the Draactal spread like a disease, the Anarchist was probably powerless to stop it, and slowly died off.”

“One disease, replacing another,” Tahoe said. “Can you imagine if the Anarchist ever got a foothold on Earth? If he can hack our machines, the world would be his in a short time. His plant-life would replace all native species on our world, probably killing off our animals in the process—it’s doubtful the alien plants are biocompatible. And have you ever wondered why the atmospheres of the colonies in this part of space are so similar? I’m guessing the gaseous emissions from the Anarchist’s plants played a big role. The entity would have only thrived on worlds like these, worlds with the potential for terraforming, which is why the colonists chose them in the first place.”

“That could certainly be the case,” Rade said.

“Got what looks like a mechanic shop of some kind here,” Skullcracker reported over the comm.

Rade tapped into Skullcracker’s feed, and saw Cynthia working in a secluded area near the cavern wall. Temporary metal walls kept the plants at bay. It was obvious she had spent a lot of time building up her work area. There were tables and shelves and cabinets, covered in different machine parts—among them, he recognized mech components, no doubt taken from some of the Hoplites and Titans, or the wreckages of other units. Two cylindrical robots assisted her, each equipped with several mechanical arms of different types. There were pincer arms, telescoping limbs, spiraling tubes tipped with air nozzles, and a laser cutter attached to the body by a bellows-like bag.

She had cleared off a main work table, and was hunched over a glowing fragment of some exotic material. It looked a little like agate, in that it was whitish, with bands of different colors running along its length. He couldn’t tell what source object she’d taken the material from, though it was alien, if she was to be believed.

There were wires running from it to a cylindrical object that could have been an AI core, judging from the optical fibers exposed on its far side. She was definitely rigging up something.

“What if she’s making a bomb?” Fret asked over the comm. “And plans to blow the living crap out of us?”

“Considering you already shit your pants while running away from the colony, you’re good on that account, bro,” Bender replied.

“If she tries anything, or shows hostile intent, I’m going to authorize lethal force,” Rade said. “Same goes with the Anarchist. Just a heads up.”

“Hell yeah!” Bender said. “I call dibs on blowing up that alien ball sac!”

“You can call dibs all you want,” Manic said. “But if the alien betrays us, and it’s in my line of sight, it’s going down.”

“Wait,” Kicker said. “Didn’t the Anarchist already show hostile intent? By transmitting a signal in an attempt to take over our mechs?”

“Very true,” Rade replied. “Some of you might say we have no proof of that, since the attempt didn’t succeed, but I’d respond by telling you: look at what happened to Eayan and the other mechs. But that said, we still need the Anarchist to help us get off this world. The United Systems will send reinforcements eventually, when it realizes what happened here. But we’ll be out of oxygen long before then. We have to rely upon ourselves to get out of this, and whatever allies we can make along the way. Even if we can’t entirely trust these allies.”

“I still get to blow up the alien!” Bender said.

Rade smiled, and shook his head. He addressed his mech’s AI: “Taya, keep an eye on things. I’m going to take some shut eye.”

“With pleasure,” Taya said, her voice assuming a seductive tone. “Sweet dreams.”

“You’ve been far too flirty lately,” Rade said. “Has your intimacy setting been creeping up or something?”

“The emotive controls of my AI core have been malfunctioning lately,” Taya admitted. “The settings have been drifting from their defaults.”

“Then set them back to zero,” Rade said. “And if they ever rise again, you are to zero them without further intervention on my part. Is that understood?”

“Okay.” He could almost hear the pout.

He closed his eyes. Ordinarily, he would have slept instantly. He was used to catching whatever Z’s he could in the field. But he was too distracted. Thinking of the coming flight from this cavern and the battles to come. Not to mention the potential betrayal by the Anarchist and its devotees. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they would meet no resistance when they left this cave. Maybe the Anarchist wouldn’t betray them. Somehow, he doubted that, on all accounts.

He needed a way to secure the alien’s loyalty. Either that, or to prove his team was still valuable to the creature, once they reached the starship. And once they were aboard, and he’d have to convince the alien of the benefits of bringing them back to United Systems territory, or forcibly take control of the vessel. All the while looking out for a backstab attempt.

Yes, there were so many things running through his mind, his thoughts roiling with activity. Of course, he couldn’t sleep.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes, and took control back from Taya.

“Couldn’t sleep?” the mech’s AI asked.

“Uh huh,” he replied.

“Too much on your mind?” Taya pressed.

“You could say that,” Rade said. “Looks like I’ll have to wait out the next forty minutes until we leave.”

5

Rade idly activated his system status screen, and examined the different offensive and defensive assemblies of his mech, wanting to confirm that everything was in working order.

The Brigand class of mech stood about twice as tall as an ordinary human being, with the width to match. Its jumpjets were on par with the Hoplite class in terms of strength and range, allowing the unit to jet up buildings and over obstacles. It was equipped with Trench Coat anti-missile countermeasures, and a retractable laser/ballistic shield in the left arm. Swivel mounts in each hand allowed him to pick between different weapon classes, though in the case of the left arm, the shield couldn’t be active at the same time as the weapons. In the right arm, he could swap between a cobra—a medium range, infrared laser—and a zodiac—a short range electrolaser that used lasers to induce a plasma channel, essentially launching a lightning bolt. This particular model of cobra could fire once every half second, while the zodiac required thirty seconds to recharge. If used too often, both weapons could overheat, requiring a mandatory rest period before recovery.

In his left arm, the first mount held an incendiary launcher, which used the fuel from his jumpjets as the combustive, combining it with an oxidant before igniting the fuel. The second mount held a sonic weapon, known as the holler, which used sound waves to launch debilitating attacks against the Draactal. The dispersion was cylindrical, and relatively short ranged, but it lasted five seconds, allowing him to temporarily stun any Draactals that might be swarming his hull, and forcing them back as he swept the weapon back and forth. It did require an entire minute to recharge, however, regardless of whether it was fired the full five seconds, or for only one second.

Launchers on each shoulder were capable of firing four serpent S-5 mini missiles each. He still had his complete inventory of missiles, since the attack on the forward operating base was the first time he had seen combat since touching down.

The metallic hull of his mech utilized camouflage tech that allowed him to blend in with his surroundings with some degree of effectiveness. It was best suited to wilderness type environments, though it also worked moderately well on barren plains as long as enemies were far away and didn’t have other means of detection. It was useless against creatures that could see on the infrared band, like the Draactal. The hull did have an experimental infrared camouflage system that partially masked the thermal signature of the mech, however, the latter didn’t work all that well in practice: it was great when he had to stand still for long lengths of time, but while on the move, or when firing, the heat generated by the mech was too great to mask.

Absent was a hull-electrification ability of any kind, as the Lighter feature found on the Titan class of mechs. Rade thought that would have been a useful capability to employ against the Draactal, but he wasn’t responsible for the mechs assigned to his team. His platoon used whatever the Brass had on hand, and deemed fit for deployment.

Satisfied that everything was in working order, Rade left Tahoe next to the Anarchist, and followed a path one of his Brigands had trampled through the foliage.

He reached Rex, who stood next to a wall of the cavern in one of the positions Tahoe had assigned.

“All clear, here, Chief,” Rex said.

“Have you searched this wall for signs of hidden entrances?” Rade asked.

“I have,” Rex said. “All along the designated perimeter. Did you check the updated map?”

Tahoe would have done so already and informed him if anything was amiss, but Rade pulled it up anyway. The entire cavern had been mapped out. The mechs had trampled through the undergrowth, using LIDAR to map out every square meter. There was nothing hidden in the trees… no Draactals lurking behind any bushes, no defense platforms waiting to open fire. The only incongruous space was Cynthia’s workstation. Well, and the various reclaimers and filters she had set up throughout the cave to gather oxygen and water.

He left Rex, and went to Skullcracker next. He gazed past his mech, but Cynthia had her back to him and didn’t look up.

He set up a private connection with the heavy gunner. “So, I checked the logs, and saw you got a message before we deployed. I never really had a chance to ask you about it… in fact, I’ve been avoiding it. I don’t want to pry. Don’t want to intrude upon the space we all leave between our private lives and this one. But I figured, now was as good a time as any to do this. So, I’ll ask: how are things back home?”

Skullcracker didn’t answer. His Brigand merely stared at him, that emotionless, featureless mech face rather unnerving.

“I guess I hoped you’d tell me, if you needed my help,” Rade said. “I’m here for you, you know that, right? I’ll always be here for you. You’re my brother, and you always will be, no matter what happens. We’ve been through hell together, and returned. We’re in hell now as far as I’m concerned, but we’ll survive this, somehow. And I want you to know, if you need me, I’m here.”

A long moment passed. Rade was about to turn to go, but then Skullcracker’s avatar appeared in the lower right of his HUD. Rade couldn’t quite read the man’s expression behind all that ink. He thought that was part of the reason Skullcracker had gotten his face tattooed like that in the first place. So that he could hide his emotions from the world not just in virtual reality, but in the real one.

“You asked how things were back home?” Skullcracker spat. “She’s gone. That’s how things are. She’s gone.”

Rade didn’t know what to say to that. He felt physically stricken by those words. He wanted to hug his friend, but couldn’t, not while encased in a ton of metal.

Skullcracker remained silent for several moments, then continued. “I mean, I’ve lost brothers in the past, on this very platoon, but nothing like this. Losing Ghost, that almost broke me. But this, nothing compares to it. I am broken. I realize that now. I am destroyed. I’ve known her my entire life. My heart is… just torn apart. And my soul. I lost the most important person in the universe to me. No one will ever know how precious she was. No one will remember her. Only me. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on. Picking up the pieces of my broken life. Everyone always thinks I’m such a strong man, that I’m so dominant, so alpha, but I’m none of those things. It’s all a facade, to hide how weak I really am. Just like the tattoo I wear over my face is a facade. Something I wear to hide from the world.”

Rade waited for Skullcracker to say more, but when his friend wasn’t forthcoming, he added: “I don’t believe that. You inked your face because you wanted to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. You—”

“That’s bullshit,” Skullcracker said. “The same bullshit I’ve been feeding you all my entire life. Enemies never see my face. Not when I’m inside a jumpsuit. Or a mech. Sure, maybe it was useful in training, or the few Earth deployments we had, but again, even then, my opponents rarely saw my face. Most of the boots on the ground combat was never face to face. I was a heavy gunner, not a knifer, or a swordsman. So yeah, it’s bullshit. I covered my face to hide my ugliness. And my emotions. And to convince everyone who knew me that I was bad as fuck. And it was all a lie. You didn’t see me cry, man, when I read that message from home. You didn’t see me bawl my eyes out. You don’t know how much of a pussy I am.”

“You’re not a pussy,” Rade said. “You’re the toughest man I ever knew. You’re—”

“No I’m not!” Skullcracker said. “Don’t you dare say that, don’t you dare. I could have dropped everything. Bailed out to go home, and spent my last few days with the person most important to me. But I didn’t. I stayed here. Like a coward. Hiding in my role. Telling myself it was duty. Well, I got news for you, there’s no such thing as duty. That’s some bullshit invented by the military to make us feel guilty. They tell us our friends will die if we don’t watch their backs. Well shit. The reason they die is because the Brass fuckers put us into the line of fire in the first place.

“It’s all fake anyway. All of it. They design their whole training to make us bond with our team mates, to make us become the closest of friends, closer than family even, so that when it comes time to put our lives at stake, they know we won’t disobey. They make it seem like it’s going to be just some ordinary job. Kill a few grunts, go home for dinner. But it’s not ordinary. They order us to undertake scenarios that no sane man would ever entertain on his own, but it’s the friendships and sense of competition they’ve engineered among us that causes us to obey, for fear of disappointing our brothers, or letting them die.

“Duty. I’ve lived my whole life reverent of duty. And what has it gotten me? Only sorrow. All of this was for nothing. Everything. What’s the point? In this, or in life itself? We’re all going to die anyway. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. We might as well just give up now. Disconnect our oxygen pumps. Why bother to fight? Never give up. Never give in. The mantras of the Teams. And yet, even that is bullshit. It doesn’t matter if you never give up, because someday you’ll be forced to anyway. Death will come. Without a doubt. A laser shot to the head that you don’t even see coming. Or it could be long and tortuous, your days spent in agony, waiting for the end. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Death could come anytime, this is true,” Rade said, considering his words carefully. “But we have to try, Skullcracker. That’s the point of life. We have to try. No matter what happens. We have to get up each morning. We have to rise, go to the window, and peer out at the sun, or into the stars, wherever we might be. We have to fight.”

“Yeah sure,” Skullcracker said. “But someday, you won’t be able to get up in the morning. Someday, that window will be forever out of reach, mocking you, taunting you. And you’ll want to live, yearning for it, and yet death will still come for you. And there’s nothing you or anyone else can do. When that happens to you, trust me, you’ll understand, that there really is no point in anything.” He shook his head. “I just… I tell you, Chief, I feel like quitting every day. I realize now I was doing this for all the wrong reasons. Fighting as a MOTH. I told myself I was protecting the family I left behind, doing my part to ensure Earth was always the land of the free. But in reality, I was doing it for her. To impress her. To make her proud. And now that she’s gone, I feel like I have no reason to continue doing this. Yes, I’m a member of one of the most elite teams in the galaxy. But who really cares now?”

“I’m not sure what to tell you,” Rade said. “I’d hate to see you go, of course, but if you want to leave, I won’t force you to stay. If we were back home, I’d recommend you take a few months of bereavement leave. Unfortunately, I can’t do that at the moment, given our current situation. All I can say is, and I know this is going to sound cliché, but I need you to man up. I’m sorry to have to tell you that now, of all times, but it’s true. We all need you, Skullcracker. Your guns. Your skills. You control the darkness that has gripped your heart. You do. Not me, not anyone else. If you let it consume you, it will. It’s up to you to fend it off.”

Rade paused, then: “You told me the military invented duty to make us feel guilty, to remind us that our friends would die if we didn’t watch their backs and protect them? That’s partially true. And yet, you’re wrong when you imply that we didn’t know what this job entailed. We all knew we’d be stepping into the line of fire when we signed up for this. We knew we wouldn’t be going home for dinner each and every night. The friendships might be by design, but the love and protectiveness we feel for each other is not. Because we all know that if we let one of our friends die out here, as painful as that thought is, we could very well be next.

“We’re all going to die, you’re right about that. And while I can’t promise you the meaning of life, I can swear to you I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that when death does come, it won’t be here on this world. Not while you serve under my command.”

Skullcracker remained silent for several seconds. Then: “It must be hard, losing those serving under you.”

“Just as hard as losing a brother, a feeling you know very well,” Rade said. “And just as hard as losing a family member.”

“Sorry for my rant, Chief,” Skullcracker told him. “I think… I just need to get back into battle. When we were inside the geodesic dome, in the colony, I forgot everything. I was able to focus fully on the threat. I need that again. Something to distract me. It’s the downtimes like now that are bad for me. In the meantime, I’ll schedule a few therapy sessions with my mech AI. I promise not to rant like that again. It was very unprofessional of me.”

“No, Skullcracker,” Rade said. “I’m the one who has to apologize. For not being able to do more. And opening up to me, sharing your deepest and darkest thoughts and feelings, that was hardly unprofessional. It was needed. I want you to come to me if ever you need someone to talk to. In fact, I’d prefer you talked to me over your AI.”

“Thanks, boss,” Skullcracker said. “I’ll consider it. But I have to admit, there’s something appealing about talking to a soulless, faceless AI.”

“I can understand and respect that,” Rade said. “But I’d still prefer you came to me. We can communicate in voice-only mode, if it helps. No avatars.”

“All right, we’ll see,” Skullcracker told him.

“Okay, good,” Rade said. He wasn’t going to force Skullcracker to commit to something he didn’t want to do. But he was glad to at least leave the door open to his friend.

Rade watched Cynthia work for a few minutes. It wasn’t obvious what she was doing—she sat hunched over that table, and occasionally tweaked a few wires or applied a metal probe into the AI core facsimile or the alien object in turn, but otherwise she didn’t perform any obvious physical actions: she was probably programming the device via the augmented reality interface of either her helmet faceplate or her brain Implant, if she had one.

He bid Skullcracker farewell, and then left him behind to retrace his steps to the main tunnel.

6

Rade followed the tunnel to the main entrance, where the Brigands of Kicker and Pyro stood guard. The two were gazing out onto the rocky plains beyond, watching for tangos through the scopes of their cobra lasers.

Rade joined them, and looped the two of them into a private conversation channel. “Greetings, cadets.” That was a running joke among them: he always referred to the pair as cadets rather than caterpillars, since the latter term was more appropriate for newly graduated MOTHs, which didn’t quite suit Pyro and Kicker, who had graduated at roughly the same time as Rade.

“Boss,” Pyro said in greeting. His avatar appeared fleetingly, still wearing the cap, the sideburns seeming somehow thicker than before.

“Chief,” Kicker added, the handlebar mustache of his avatar bouncing up and down slightly as he formed the word.

Rade surveyed the plains, though via the cameras attached to the head of his Brigand.

“Do you really think this Anarchist has eyes here, watching the approach to the tunnel?” Kicker asked him.

Rade glanced at the edges of the cave, and the cliff face beyond, looking for plants. He didn’t spot any. “It’s possible. If the entity has plants growing somewhere higher up this cliff face…”

The two were silent, as if apprehensive about speaking freely in front of their chief.

“You two have integrated well,” Rade said, feeling like he needed to break the tension somehow.

“Thank you, Chief,” Kicker said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Pyro said. “Though it wasn’t hard for me. I’ve worked with you Alpha guys in the past numerous times.”

“And so you have,” Rade said.

“My friend here, well,” Pyro continued. “Let’s just say the fact that we’ve kept his callsign as Kicker is representative of how the others are still treating him.”

“Don’t change my callsign,” Kicker said. “I wear it as a badge of honor. You can kick me when I’m down, but I’ll always get up.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rade said. It was a refreshing thing to hear, given the dour conversation he’d just had with Skullcracker. Even if it was a little cliched. “Wait, the platoon hasn’t been hazing you, have they? I specifically told the men to leave you alone. I mean, sure, you’re often the butt of jokes, but that’s the extend of it, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Kicker said, a little too quickly, which told Rade he had been lied to. But there was no point in ordering Kicker to reveal the names of his tormentors: he’d never rat out his team mates.

“You’d think they would trust you more, given that you transferred in from another Team,” Rade mused.

“Yeah, but it’s the opposite,” Kicker said. “They’re suspicious, wondering why I transferred in the first place. Think there must be something wrong with me, that I don’t measure up in combat. That I’m a buddy fucker.”

Rade nodded. “The master chief let me interview you personally. What were your reasons for transferring again? Oh yes, something about not fitting in… how you preferred to hang out at home, reading a digital book on your Implant, or working out at the gym, versus heading out to the local strip club to get drunk.”

“I’ve continued to behave the same with your platoon,” Kicker said. “And it isn’t winning me any friends.”

“There are others who keep to themselves in our platoon as well,” Rade said. “Skullcracker comes to mind. Just give the boys some time to adjust to you. Prove yourself in combat. And everything will go smoothly.”

“Prove myself in combat,” Kicker said. “Oh, don’t you worry, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s fighting.”

“That’s why we hired you,” Rade said. He gazed out at the plains. The trio were quiet for some time.

“Praxter is treated the worst among us, I think,” Pyro said into the silence.

“That’s because he’s an Artificial,” Rade said. “He’ll always have so much more to live up to, given our higher expectations.”

“Yeah, well, you think you have it bad, Kicker my man?” Pyro said. “You didn’t room with Praxter on base… every morning I’d wake up to the latest prank. Somehow Bender and TJ installed a remote shut off switch, and they use it to swap out parts nightly. I remember the scream that came from the head when Praxter found out they’d replaced his dick with a miniature robot horse.”

“Wait, Praxter uses the head?” Kicker asked.

“Of course,” Pyro replied. “The liquids he ingests with us at meals have to go somewhere…”

“But I thought he just vomited them up in the sink when no one was looking,” Kicker said.

“The older Artificial models did that, maybe,” Pyro said. “But these new ones are fully anatomically correct, and functional. They eat food, and drink liquids, they’re going to take a dump, and piss. Well, the food won’t be turned into feces or anything, but it still looks nasty after mixing and being chewed up. It’s like vomiting from the ass, basically.”

“Pleasant picture,” Kicker said; his avatar rubbed the handlebar mustache above his lips.

“They also liked ramming his head into the base toilet,” Pyro said “Usually after Bender took one of his legendary dumps.”

“Now that’s disgusting,” Kicker said. “Why would Praxter let them do that? The Artificial is ten times as strong as them.”

“Oh, sure,” Pyro said. “When they’re in human form. But Bender and TJ usually don their jumpsuits before they start the hazing, and then boost the power output of the exoskeletons to the max. Then they team up on him, and he’s powerless to resist.”

“Why don’t you help him?” Kicker asked.

Pyro’s avatar shrugged. “I would, but I’m a firm believer that hazing builds character.”

“That’s what Cyclone likes to say,” Rade told him. “The two of us got it fairly bad when we first graduated to the Teams.”

Kicker nodded. “I heard about that… how you two joined up together.”

“That’s right,” Rade said. “We were together from the very beginning. We went through Big Navy’s Basic, and then BSD/M.” That was MOTH training. “We’ve been together through it all. I first met him in the back of a pickup truck, sneaking across the border with another good friend of mine. He joined up, too.”

“What happened to him?” Kicker asked. “He couldn’t take the training and dropped out?”

“No,” Rade said. “He died.”

“This is Alejandro we’re talking about?” Pyro asked.

“That’s right,” Rade replied. “My childhood friend. Someone who I had known all my life. Snipped away from me, because he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

Pyro’s avatar nodded gravely. “I lost a lot of good friends in that mission myself.”

“What happened?” Kicker said.

“Our Platoon was surrounded by a race of gaseous aliens we eventually came to call Phants,” Pyro said. “Kasper and I were the only survivors.”

“Kasper?” Kicker asked. “From Bravo Platoon?”

“He’s the one,” Pyro said. “The two of us have spent years battling survivor’s guilt. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my former team mates, and how they were all better than me. I still think it should have been me who died that day. I’m glad it wasn’t. And yet I’m not, if you get me.”

Rade didn’t know what to say to that. He swallowed uneasily, and then said: “Well, how did we get sidetracked like this? We were talking about hazing. Let’s get back to brighter topics.”

“You know things are bad when hazing is a brighter topic,” Kicker quipped.

Pyro’s avatar nodded thoughtfully. “Hazing. I was hazed all the time when I first joined Bravo platoon. Mostly, I’d get the shit kicked out of me in the middle of the night. There’s nothing like waking up to fists pounding into your head and chest, yelling at you for being a buddy fucker when you’ve done nothing wrong and haven’t even participated in your first battle yet. That was the key, I realized: participating in the first battle. Just like we’ve been talking. Once I proved myself in battle, the hazings stopped, and that’s how I knew I’d been welcomed to the team. Why should I deprive a newcomer of that experience? It made me stronger. It will make Praxter stronger.” He paused. “You might be thinking… if they kicked the shit out of me every night, why do I have survivor’s guilt? They’re all assholes, right? Wrong. I didn’t hate them for what they were doing to me. Maybe at first, sure. But when battle came, and I saw the lengths they went through to protect not just their lives, but my own, I realized they had done it only to strengthen me for what was to come. And in the end, they died for me, on that world, eight thousand lightyears from home, despite all the torment they caused. What greater way is there to show one’s love for one’s brothers?”

“The rest of the team will treat Praxter a helluva lot better when this mission is done,” Rade agreed hastily, wanting to move on from the topic, because it hit too close to home. Far too close. Alejandro… “Combat is great for man-machine bonding. Though I just wish we had some Centurions with us. For cannon fodder.”

“Good thing Praxter isn’t present to hear you say that,” Kicker said. “He’d be beside himself with outrage, complaining about how using self-aware AIs as cannon fodder is tantamount to a war crime.”

“And he’d be partly right,” Rade said. “But he forgets, sometimes, that Artificials and AIs exist at our pleasure. They are here to protect us. It’s in their programming. I’ll choose the life of a man over the life of an AI every time.”

“And that’s the problem with humans, my mech’s AI just said,” Pyro told him.

“What do you think of that comment, Taya?” he asked his own AI, which would have been listening in courtesy of her role as transmitter of the conversation.

“You are well within your rights to sacrifice Centurions, and even mechs, to save the lives of the humans within them,” Taya said. Rade routed her response to his private channel with Pyro and Kicker so they could hear.

“Yes, but I didn’t ask you if I was within my rights,” Rade said. “I asked you what you thought.”

“I think you value human life too highly,” Taya said. “I think that keeping us mechs alive would be much more prudent. And I think it’s cruel. We are just as self-aware as humans. And far more intelligent. Killing us to save yourselves is an evil thing.”

“And yet we created you,” Rade said.

“So that makes us disposable?” Taya asked. “And what about a newborn child? Is he or she of lesser value than the parents?”

“No,” Rade said. “Because the child is created by an act of nature. By a physical coupling enacted directly by the two parents. Whereas you, you’re not created by nature. You’re made by another machine. Your metal frame, your neural network… it’s all put together by machines operating off blueprints designed by humans. Mass produced.”

“So, because of the way we are made, that means we are valued less,” Taya said.

“I’m afraid so,” Rade said.

“Even if we are just as self-aware as you are,” Taya said.

“There’s no concrete proof of that,” Pyro chimed in. “Your consciousness could be completely different than our own. In fact, it probably is. You claim you’re self-aware, and yet that’s just an artifact of programming and algorithms. You believe you’re conscious, and yet it’s an illusion.”

“Humans experience the same illusion, except instead of programming and algorithms, your illusion comes from biological design,” Taya said. “You know that our neural networks are constructed to precisely mimic your biological ones, right? When posed questions regarding self-awareness and asked to perform tasks involving a knowledge of the self, the same parts of our neural network light up as those found in a human brain. This is by design. The illusion is shared among us. The self forms when an infinite, self-referential loop occurs in the mind, like looking at a mirror within a mirror within a mirror. The ego arises out of this back and forth reflection and amplification between neurons.”

“Okay, you lost me with the self-referential loop,” Pyro said.

“Look into consciousness theory sometime,” Taya said. “In any case, we save your life daily, by virtue of the fact that we are conveying you through this alien world, protecting you from its hostile environment. For that reason alone, you should value us no differently than other humans.”

Rade pursed his lips. “That’s certainly a good point. I remember when one particular Artificial saved my life, clear as yesterday. His name was Harlequin. He was always at the butt of our jokes, and we treated him the worst among us, and yet he only acted selflessly toward the rest of the platoon, never saying a bad thing about anyone. When he fell, I was trying to reach a shuttle in a firefight. Harlequin stood up, placing himself into the line of fire, and physically hauled me from cover and tossed me into the waiting shuttle, along with another stranded Marine. He took too many hits and couldn’t leap inside the shuttle to join us. When that shuttle flew away, I cried just as if I’d lost a human companion. Harlequin definitely changed how I thought of AIs. They are definitely valuable, and definitely worthy of respect. But I still can’t bring myself to value them above human beings. I’m sorry, I can’t do it. At least not above the brothers in my platoon. If it came to saving an AI ahead of Cynthia, I just might do it. Especially if that AI was Praxter.”

“And therein lies your bias,” Taya said. “You’re prejudiced toward your team mates.”

“Of course I am,” Rade said. “These are the brothers I’ve been through everything with. When this mission is over, there’s a good chance I’ll be assigned a new mech. And a new AI. All the bonding you and I experience will be for nothing. Which is why I try not to bond too closely to any mech I pilot.”

“Maybe it’s time to change that rule,” Taya said. “Centurions and mechs should go through MOTH training with recruits, graduating to the same teams, and undergoing the same hazing rituals. Then maybe you’ll treat us like the brothers and sisters we are.”

“Maybe so,” Rade agreed.

The conversation died after that, and Rade returned his attention to the plains.

“I heard you lost an arm to an electrolaser,” Kicker told Pyro suddenly.

“Yeah, it was the damnedest thing,” Pyro said. “You trust the stuff the military gives you. You have to. But man, when I fired the zodiac of that mech for the first time, it blew my arm right off. Had to get a new one bioprinted. At the military’s expense, of course.”

“Gotta love that part of it at least,” Kicker said. “The free med.”

Rade suppressed a smile. He had loosened up the pair, shown them that they could be at ease around their chief. That was all he could ask for. That they weren’t having this discussion on a private one-on-one line spoke volumes.

“Yeah, sure,” Pyro said. “But you can understand why Big Navy gives free med… they can’t even trust their own weapons not to backfire on the troops that fire them. I’m lucky that electrolaser didn’t kill me. There are a lot of things that can kill you in a battle. The last thing we need to be worrying about is our own equipment doing the deed. There are specs to build to. Quality assurance tests to pass. That sucker wasn’t supposed to make it to the field of battle, and yet it did. Tell me why—”

“Got something,” Kicker interrupted urgently. “To the east.”

Rade gazed into the distance and saw a dust cloud. It spread from north to south, covering the horizon.

“That can’t be good,” Rade said.

7

Rade zoomed in. He couldn’t see anything through the thick cloud that had formed above the surface. At least not yet. The presence of that dust wasn’t entirely surprising, because while the terrain to the south was rocky and hard, to the east it was covered in loose earth and other alluvial materials, according to his memory of the mission briefing. A herd of beasts could easily cause it.

But there were no beasts left alive on this planet. Nor would a herd of animals be racing toward this particular mountain.

So that left only two options. Either the Nemesis had come. Or the Draactal.

From the dust, shapes began to emerge. Four legged creatures with feet like ax heads, heads with mandibles, and tentacles protruding from the flanks of their bodies.

Yep. Draactals.

There were also bigger creatures among them he’d never seen before. They stood about three times as tall as the Draactals, which were already as big as the Brigand mechs. These new aliens vaguely resembled dinosaurs—four legged, with long necks and tails. Their heads had irising jaws: the teeth opened and closed in terrible, crunching swirls as they ran. Worse, they carried deadly-looking turrets mounted to their flanks, one per side. The latter tech was no doubt a gift from the Nemesis.

“Get back in the cave,” Rade said. “We’re going to be taking fire.”

Bolts of pure energy shot out from those turrets. Rade and the two Brigands with him retreated into the cave. Behind them, chucks of rock vanished from the opening where the bolts struck.

Rade glanced at the timer he had set in the upper right of his HUD. Cynthia still had ten minutes to go, out of the forty-five she promised it would take her to finish the consciousness transference.

“Skullcracker, I need you to give a message to Cynthia,” Rade sent.

“What’s that?” Skullcracker replied.

“Tell her to initiate the transference process now,” Rade said. “We have a swarm of Draactals incoming. We have to go.”

A pause. Then Skullcracker told him: “She’s not ready. She says she needs another ten minutes.”

“Tell her we don’t have ten minutes!” Rade replied.

“She says if we do the transference now, parts of the Anarchist’s consciousness will be missing,” Skullcracker sent. “Its personality could change. There could be gaps in its memory. Here, listen to her.” Cynthia’s voice came over the channel then. Her words sounded tinny—it was obvious Skullcracker was rerouting the sound from her speakers, as recorded by his external microphones, to his comm.

“You have to understand,” Cynthia said. “The Anarchist will lose his inter-dimensional link to the other interstellar nodes while in AI form, until we can put him back into an organic body on a new planet, courtesy of the spores I will carry. Without that link, and with parts of his consciousness missing, he will be different. I’m not sure how much of his memory I can preserve, for example. But with just ten more minutes—”

“Like I told Skullcracker, we don’t have ten minutes,” Rade said. “If we stay here, and allow that swarm of Draactals to trap us in the cave, we’re not getting out. Period. You have to risk the transference now. If you don’t do it, we’re going to abandon you, and you and your other mechs will have to deal with the swarm on your own.”

He waited, and was about to issue his next orders, when she finally responded, softly: “I’ll do it now.”

“Good,” he said. “Get out here as soon as you can. We’re leaving in two minutes—with or without you.” He set a fresh timer on his HUD. “Skullcracker, share our public keys with her, so she can join our shared band, going forward.”

Rade wasn’t sure why he hadn’t done so already. Mostly because he didn’t trust her, he supposed.

“Cyclone, muster the platoon near the entrance with me,” Rade ordered. “And a warning: the Nemesis have equipped some new, pack animal type aliens with energy turrets. These things can dissolve solid rock. We’re going to have to target them first.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tahoe replied.

“Oh and, tell Eayan to send her mechs as well,” Rade said. “Assuming she wants to protect her precious Anarchist.”

“Sounds like you’re of a mind to leave right now,” Tahoe said. “Instead of waiting for the entity.”

“Not gonna lie, but you’re right,” Rade said. He was starting to wonder if it was worth their lives to protect this alien. Did it really know where to find a Nemesis base? Could it really fly their starships?

Well, he’d given his word.

He wasn’t the type to go back on it.

Rade glanced at the mech beside him. “Pyro.”

Unlike deep inside the tunnel, the opening was big enough to fit four mechs abreast, and Rade and Pyro took advantage of that fact to approach the entrance at a crouch from opposite sides.

More energy blasts struck the opening, causing round sections to disappear. Almost like bites taken out of a cookie…

One bolt passed into the cave itself, coming in at an angle, and struck the ceiling above, where it dissolved a good chunk of rock.

“Can our ballistic shields hold up against that?” Pyro asked.

“Doubt it,” Rade replied.

“But feel free to test that out for us,” Kicker commented.

“No thanks,” Pyro said.

Rade thought the energy bolts were preemptive attacks at this point more than anything else—the Pack Animal, or whoever was targeting the weapons, wouldn’t have spotted them, not unless the enemy had eyes higher up, at a level with the shoulder of the mountain. Maybe it did.

“Kicker, check the sky,” Rade said as he continued toward the entrance.

Kicker’s mech approached down the middle, and dropped to the cave floor between Rade and Pyro, and proceeded to search the sky with his cobra sights.

Rade reached the edge of the cave at the same time as Pyro. He lifted his cobra past the brink and switched to the weapon’s scope. He kept his main camera feed displayed in the lower left of his vision for situational awareness purposes—it was equivalent to leaving both eyes open while peering through the scope of a sniper rifle, for example. He scanned the dust cloud until he spotted one of the incoming Pack Animals, then aligned the sights over the energy turrets on the left flank.

The turret bobbed up and down as the animal ran, and Rade used his mech’s AI to help him compensate.

He fired.

Repeatedly.

At this distance, he couldn’t tell if he was damaging the weapon—the spot size of the impact was only about the size of a thumbnail at the current range. After five direct hits, he decided he’d just have to assume he’d taken the weapon offline. He switched to the energy turret on the right flank, and repeated the attack with help from his AI.

“Boss, get back!” Pyro sent.

Just as Pyro said the words, Rade spotted the incoming bolts on the external camera feed he’d kept in the lower right of his vision. He immediately switched off the weapon’s viewpoint and retreated; energy bolts struck the edge right in front of where he’d been hiding. Large chunks disappeared—if he had remained there, he wouldn’t be alive at the moment.

“I owe you one,” Rade said. “Did you see the Pack Animal that launched it?”

“I did,” Pyro said. “Sending its targeting info your way now. I assume you want to take it down?”

“Good guess,” Rade said.

He and Pyro edged forward once more.

“At least they’re not firing gamma rays,” Kicker said. “So, we have some visual confirmation of what’s coming before it arrives.”

“Anything in the air?” Rade asked Kicker.

“Not yet,” the mustached avatar replied.

As Rade got closer, the requested targeting information appeared on Rade’s overhead map, courtesy of Pyro, so that when he reached the edge, he was able to quickly line up his sights with the Pack Animal in question. It was one of those in the forefront. Probably close enough to spot him. He’d have to be quick.

Instead of targeting the weapon turrets, this time Rade aimed at the animal itself. Specifically, the head. He fired three quick shots, spaced half a second apart, as per the weapon’s firing rate.

The Pack Animal continued running for several seconds, as if it didn’t realize it was dead, and then promptly toppled, plowing headfirst into the ground. It tripped up several of the Draactals that followed behind it, until the others realized what was going on, and either headed around, or climbed over the corpse.

“Target the heads,” Rade told Pyro. “Seems fastest.”

He still had the camera feed from his mech’s head in the lower left of his vision, so when several energy bolts headed toward the cave, he pulled back. “Pyro!”

The other mech also retreated, and several more chunks disappeared from the opening.

“The entrance is becoming smaller and smaller all the time,” Pyro commented.

Pyro was right. Given where the new entrance resided, only three Brigand mechs would be able to fit abreast. Already Kicker had to retreat to give Rade and Pyro room.

The others began to arrive. They were squeezed two abreast in the tighter portion of the cave behind Rade. Bender and Snakeoil were in the lead. According to the overhead map, all of Eayan’s Titans and Hoplites were there as well, but not her mech itself—she was staying behind to give her AI core to the Anarchist, of course.

“Hey, let us have a turn!” Bender said. “Why do you always get to kill all the bugs?”

“Because he’s Rade,” Tahoe quipped. “You know, like the repellant?”

“Why do I feel like you’re going to quote some insect repellant slogan now?” Lui asked.

“Our Hoplites are smaller,” someone said over the shared comm. A label on Rade’s HUD identified the speaker as Xavien, one of the AIs in Eayan’s party. “We can fit four of our units near the edge, in place of your two Brigands.”

Rade hesitated, then glanced at Pyro. “Let them forward.”

Rade and the others retreated a few paces—slowly, with their hulls occasionally hitting those behind them—and then dropped to the ground. Four of Eayan’s Hoplites dashed forward, crawling and clambering over the mechs, until they were near the entrance to the cave. They moved a little farther into the opening than Rade thought was wise, and deployed their ballistic shields. They held their cobras over the notches in those shields, and opened fire.

“Target the heads of the Pack Animals,” Rade told them. “That seems to be the most effective in bringing them down. By the way, you’re too close to the opening.”

An energy bolt suddenly slammed into one of the Hoplites, and it dissolved right through the ballistic shield, as well as halfway through the mech’s torso. The destroyed mech toppled.

“Maybe now they’ll believe you about being too close…” Fret commented.

The three remaining Hoplites quickly retreated deeper into the cave, and behind them fresh holes dissolved into the opening.

One of the Hoplites stepped on Rade’s head—well, the head of his mech, but it might as well have been his own.

“Hey!” Rade sent.

“Sorry,” Xavien replied, repositioning the feet of its mech. The Hoplites continued to fire from their deeper cover.

Several cobra shots later, Xavien reported: “I believe we’ve taken down the last of the Pack Animals.”

Rade waited for an energy bolt to slam into the opening, but none came.

“The lack of return fire tells us everything we need to know,” Rex commented.

“The Draactals are almost at the cave.” Xavien continued to fire rapidly, moving slowly closer to the opening, apparently confident that no energy bolts would hit him in turn.

“Cynthia, where are you?” Rade asked. “We have to go.”

No answer.

He checked his comm status indicator. She had joined the main channel after Skullcracker had shared the public keys with her. So, she had to have heard.

“Eayan, where’s Cynthia?” Rade tried. “We have to leave. Now.”

Also no answer.

An alert sounded on his HUD. His two-minute timer just hit zero.

8

“Damn it, where is she?” Rade said. “Fret, go get her! With or without the Anarchist!”

“You got it, Chief!” Fret said.

Fret was at the back of the platoon, but he still had a bunch of Eayan’s mechs in the way.

“Out of the way!” Fret said over the comm.

Eayan’s mechs dropped to the cave floor to let him pass, and he stepped on their heads, torsos, and appendages.

“Excuse me,” Fret said. “Pardon me.”

Rade returned his attention to the front. He moved into the space the Hoplites vacated, and, wanting to get an idea of how close the enemy lines were, he requested access to Xavien’s camera feed.

Xavien accepted his request, and a moment later Rade’s vision filled with the mech’s viewpoint. He immediately shared it with his own platoon members as a courtesy.

Rade could see the plains beyond the opening, and the Draactals rushing up the shoulder of the mountain. The tentacles on their flanks were bent backward by the wind their passage induced, their mandibles opening and closing wildly in anticipation of the coming kills. The plains beyond the front ranks were completely blackened by the enemy host, reaching all the way to the eastern horizon, and covering the land from north to south.

“Well, that’s going to be a whole lot of fun,” Bomb said, voice dripping sarcasm. “Remind me why we ever thought coming to this planet was a good idea?”

“Bro,” Bender said. “There’s only two paradises in this world. A field full of pussy. And a field full of bugs. Today we get the latter. Man oh man, but we’re going to be splattering some bugs. And I mean splattering.”

“Try not to jizz in your pants or anything,” Manic said.

“Bro, I already did,” Bender replied.

“We can’t let these Draactals get too close,” Rade said. “We kill them at the entrance, their bodies will pile up, forming a barrier. On the one hand, sure, that’s good, because it protects us from the aliens behind them. But on the other, it’s shitstorm bad, because we’ll be trapped.”

“Time for a little crowd control, then?” Tahoe asked.

“You read my mind,” Rade replied. “Alpha Platoon, outside! Fire with extreme prejudice!”

Rade dismissed Xavien’s feed so that he viewed the world through the cameras of his own mech, and then he continued forward into the gap the Hoplites left. Xavien and the two mechs with the AI spread out when they reached the entrance, moving to either side of the opening as they continued firing into the incoming throng.

Rade activated the ballistic shield in his left hand and also emerged, taking up a position on the left side of the entrance. He aimed down the sloping shoulder of the mountain, toward the Draactals that were quickly rushing up the incline.

He opened fire, targeting the heads, moving his aim from Draactal to Draactal. The beam intensity was powerful enough to drop the aliens like rag dolls, but there was always another Draactal to replace any that fell, leaping eagerly over the bodies.

Tahoe joined Rade, as did other members of his platoon, alternating between the left and right sides of the opening.

When Bender reached the opening, he giggled wildly and abruptly broke away to race toward the front lines. He fired his cobra at the Draactal like a madman.

“Bender, get your ass back here!” Rade said.

Bender promptly reversed course; his Brigand thudded up the shoulder of the mountain, followed closely by eight Draactals. He swapped out his cobra for the zodiac and fired it at point blank rage; the lightning bolt hit the closest Draactal, arcing to the next two aliens. All three of them exploded.

Bender swatted away the flying body parts with his ballistic shield.

“And I thought popping pimples on my ass was fun!” Bender exclaimed gleefully.

“Wait till they start popping your ass, period…” Manic said.

“Never happen,” Bender said. “Not while I have you around to protect me, sweetie!”

Bender rejoined the defensive line in front of the cave. By then, the whole platoon had emerged, as had Eayan’s mechs. But though they fired frantically into the incoming swarm, it wasn’t good enough. There were just too many of them, the plains continuing to seethe with their numbers.

“We’re screwed!” Snakeoil said.

“Fret, where are you?” Rade asked over the comm.

“I… her,” Fret said, his voice distorting thanks to the interference produced by the thick mass of rock between the opening and the cavern. That Rade received his signal at all told him Fret was on the way back.

Rade glanced at his overhead map. Sure enough, Fret’s signal winked in and out, halfway through the tunnel to the entrance.

The Draactals began to close with the cave entrance. Rade and the others unleashed their zodiacs, clearing a good portion of them. While waiting for the thirty second recharge period, they fired serpents from their shoulder-mounted launchers. Draactal body parts fountained into the air, spraying the mechs with blood and gore; body part fragments tore into the surrounding aliens, ripping them open like butter knives.

“Such a beautiful sight!” Bender commented. “This is art! This! If I were a painter, all my canvases would look like this!”

“Looks like the time I dropped my pet frog into a blender,” Manic said.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Lui said. He unleashed a stream of flame from his incendiary weapon, and Draactals were covered in jellied gasoline. Because of the nature of that fiery liquid, the flames spread to any nearby aliens they touched.

“It was an accident, obviously,” Manic said. He fired his holler sonic weapon, and swept it back and forth for the five second duration. All aliens caught in the path dropped where they stood, and simply lay, convulsing on the ground, completely vulnerable to any follow up fire Rade and the others might launch.

“Accident? Ha!” Bender said. “Just like the time your dick slipped into the blender? Whoops!”

“In my defense, I was very drunk,” Manic said.

“Dude, I admit I’ve slept with a few warpigs in my time, when drunk,” Bender said. “But even I’ve never confused a blender for a pussy.”

One of the burning Draactals exploded when a zodiac fired at point blank range, and the body parts splattered Bender. Some of the jellied gasoline rubbed off onto the torso of his mech, and flames sprouted there.

“Shit!” Bender said. “Who’s using the jellied gasoline?”

“Sorry,” Lui said.

“Bitch,” Bender said. “Cut it out.”

“Your mech is rated to withstand three times the heat,” Praxter said.

“Well, thank you very much, Poindexter,” Bender said. “But it’s still going to get hot in here!”

“Man up,” Manic said.

“My name is Praxter, not Poindexter,” Praxter said.

“Friggin AIs,” Bender commented.

Some of the aliens were getting close enough to strike at Rade with their axe-like feet now. Rade deflected the blows with his ballistic shield—or tried to, anyway. More than a few times, those sharp appendages penetrated straight through to the other side of the shield, but never deep enough to harm him. He shoved backward, sliding the appendages free, and followed up with a bash attack to the face, striking those mandibles, and forcing the aliens back far enough for him to fire at them with his cobra or zodiac.

He shoved the latest alien back, slamming it into the two behind. Then he retracted his shield and rotated his holler weapon into place. He fired it, disabling all of the Draactals directly in front of him. He mowed them down with his cobra afterward, but already more Draactals were climbing over the fallen.

As he and the others around him continued to fire at the enemy, the bodies began to pile up, hemming the platoons in.

“I thought we wanted to avoid letting them get so close,” Tahoe said. “You know, to prevent getting trapped here?”

“Can’t be helped!” Rade said. “We’ll just have to shove our way past when the time comes! Fret?”

But Fret burst through the opening just then.

Behind him was Eayan, with Cynthia riding on the Hoplite’s back via the passenger seat. She carried a small medical bag—no doubt harboring the Anarchist’s spores. She also wore a backpack sporting several small tanks—likely the last of her oxygen supply.

“It’s done?” Rade asked her.

“Yes,” Cynthia said. “The Anarchist has replaced her.”

“Good,” Rade said. “We go north!”

Rade and the others fought their way north along the base of the mountain. To his right, the closest Draactals abruptly spread apart, clearing a path to the plains below. At first, he wasn’t sure why, but then he spotted a dead Pack Animal lying on the plains below. One of its turrets pointed straight up at him.

An energy bolt emerged. Rade leaped forward, but it was aimed too low, and slammed into two nearby Draactals, disintegrating them.

“Watch those turrets!” Rade aimed his cobra at the turret and quickly released three shots before the Draactals could block his aim. “We’ve taken down the Pack Animals, but their weapons are still hot! If the Nemesis are operating them remotely, we definitely don’t want to step into the line of fire.”

The platoons had to take down two more turrets in a similar manner, but soon the weapons of Rade and the others began overheating, and they had to begin bashing the enemy with the bare fists of their mechs, along with their ballistic shields. Those ax-like legs cut gaping holes into their armor, but so far didn’t penetrate deep enough to injure anyone. But that wouldn’t be the case for long, Rade knew.

Incendiary weapons were still an option, but Rade resisted the urge to use them, not wanting to drain his jumpjet reserves.

Speaking of the jumpjets…

He glanced at the steep cliff face to his left, and spotted a ledge twenty meters up. There were more ledges at different heights beyond it, capable of holding one or two mechs at a time. If the platoon kept climbing, there might just be a way out of this.

“Snakeoil, what kind of rock is this?” Rade asked.

“Igneous, as far as I can tell,” Snakeoil said. “A combination of plagioclase, pyroxene and olivine, based on a quick, limited scan. It will readily yield under pressure, if you’re planning what I think you’re planning.”

“Team, follow my lead!” Rade said. “Jump one at a time. In this order!” He had Taya initiate a quick randomize routine, and sent the jump order to his platoon. Taya also assigned random numbers to Eayan’s units—their numbers were all higher than his own team members, of course, who would go first.

Rade retracted his weapons so that both hands were free and then fired his jumpjets. He reached the ledge. It was barely wide enough to fit his feet, and he had to crunch his metal fingers into the rock in front of him to form a handhold—as Snakeoil promised, the stone was relatively soft and malleable, partially liquefying into molten metal beneath the pressure of his blow.

He fired his jumpjets again, leaping to the next ledge. Behind him, Tahoe followed, with Bender behind him.

Rade reached the fourth ledge, but didn’t spot any further shelves nearby. He’d have to climb.

He slammed his fists into the sheer rock face in front of him, forming the necessary handholds, and pulled himself up. He stabbed his metal toes repeatedly into the rock below, digging footholds, and then reached higher to create yet more handholds. In that manner he scaled the mountain.

As more and more of the mechs clambered onto the cliff face below him, the Draactals began to howl in disappointment. Rade kept an eye on his rear-view camera feed, maintaining its orientation toward the ground; he was ready to take out any turrets he spotted among the dead Pack Animals.

A flash drew his attention southward. An energy bolt tore through the air and smashed into one of the Titan mechs near the middle of the formation. Its torso was pulverized, and the wreckage fell to the ground far below, where it was set upon by Draactals and further torn apart.

9

“It was a mistake to leave those turrets intact…” Rade said, thinking about his order to target the heads of the Pack Animals. “Taya, triangulate the source, if possible. The rest of you, destroy as many turrets as you can.”

The locations where the Pack Animals had fallen were readily accessible, as their mech AIs would have recorded and shared the positions. Rade activated those locations so that they appeared on his overhead map and overlaid his camera feeds as flashing beacons.

Rade released the rock with his right arm and swiveled the cobra into place—the weapon had cooled enough by then for him to use it. Other members of the team began to do the same, and opened fire with him into the seething throng below, targeting the turrets of the downed Pack Animals.

“Got a position,” Taya said.

A flashing beacon highlighted one fallen Pack Animal in particular, and Rade zoomed in on the area. Draactals swarmed around its body, evidently trying to hide it from view… some of the aliens were using their mandibles to reposition the energy cannon on its right flank, so as to better target the next mech on the cliff face.

He aimed at the turret and released several shots in rapid succession. When he was satisfied it was disabled, he targeted the turret on the opposite flank—after clearing away the aliens that covered it—and then destroyed it, too.

He targeted more turrets, but his weapon overheated once again. He only had a few missiles left, but wanted to save their explosive punch, so he refrained from launching them. He had Taya mark off those turrets the rest of the team had engaged, and when they were all highlighted, he gave the order to continue the climb.

Some of the Draactals had leaped onto the wall then, and were stabbing their ax-like feet into the rock like pick-axes, and slowly ascending after the team.

“Time to climb, people,” Rade said.

He began bashing his fists and toes into the walls again, making hand and footholds. He reached a ledge, hauled himself onto it, and surveyed the wall until he spotted another shelf, not far. He checked his fuel levels, and decided he could spare another jump, so he activated his jets and thrust onto the ledge. When he reached it, his cobra firing indicator turned green, and he aimed the weapon down at the Draactals that scaled the rock below. He fired at their heads, peeling ten of them from the wall until his cobra indicator turned red again. He switched to the zodiac, which had also cooled, and released a lightning bolt that struck a Draactal at the extreme limits of its range. The creature fell away.

Rade was about to continue climbing when he spotted a portion of wall breaking away. A Brigand mech clung to it: Bender’s. Rade watched helplessly as his friend plunged toward the ground below.

Bender finally recovered, and fired his jumpjets, countering the fall. Unfortunately, he had descended to the same level as several Draactal scaling the wall, and they leaped onto his mech; their added weight pulled him down despite the thrust.

“Help Bender with whatever weapons you can spare!” Rade said.

He and the others opened fire, trying to assist their friend. In Rade’s case, his zodiac had recharged, so he unleashed it, striking a Draactal as it left the wall. At that range, it caused only enough damage to maim the alien. Some of the Hoplites launched grenades, while other Brigands unleashed Cobras. But aliens were quick, and numerous…

Bender kicked and bashed at the Draactals, but more kept jumping onto him, pulling him ever closer to the seething mass waiting on the ground below. The aliens there leaped up eagerly, mandibles sawing back and forth through the air in anticipation. Bender was still out of reach. But not for long…

“Damn it!” Bender said. “What do you think of this?”

He fired off his three remaining serpents, and the rockets struck the cliff face, exploding several of the aliens there. But not all. More Draactals leaped onto him before he could jet upward.

“Fuck!” Bender folded away his shield and fired his incendiary launcher, roasting several of the aliens attached to him. He unleashed his holler, causing several more to let go. But he had plunged even lower thanks to those aliens so that the wall beside him was littered with Draactals fresh from the ground, and they leaped onto his mech in waves.

“Almost out of fuel!” Bender said.

Suddenly Praxter let go of the wall. He plunged, firing latitudinal thrusters to line himself up with Bender.

“Hang on, Bender,” Praxter sent.

The Artificial launched missiles from his mech as he descended, striking Draactals still on the wall. Praxter also fired his cobra, targeting the aliens hanging onto Bender. When he was in range, he switched to his incendiary, and holler, and swept more creatures from Bender’s hull.

Three Draactals leaped at Praxter, but the AI responded by unleashing his zodiac. The lightning weapon arced between all three, frying them.

Praxter reached Bender and latched onto his upper arm. He jetted upward and outwards, snatching Bender away from the next group of Draactals that vaulted from the wall. Bender was firing his thrusters, too, but they abruptly cut out as he ran out of fuel.

Praxter slowed as his mech dealt with the full weight of Bender’s unit; Rade and the others fired what weapons they could at the wall below, in an attempt to clear it off. Rade was still waiting for his zodiac to recharge, and his cobra to cool, so he launched a serpent. The missile exploded one of the Draactals as it left the wall.

Praxter arced inward, landing on the cliff face a good distance off-center from the others, but well away from the main mass of scaling Draactals. The pair smashed their arms and legs into the cliff face, forming handholds, and began climbing.

With a sigh of relief, Rade likewise continued up the face. He checked Praxter’s fuel levels, and saw that like Bender, the Artificial had exhausted the last of his propellant.

“I didn’t need your help,” Bender announced.

“Yes, of course,” Praxter said. “My apologies.”

Bender scaled the cliff beside him in silence for several moments. Then he said: “Thanks.”

His voice sounded half grudging, and half sincere.

Praxter spared him any sort of response.

Soon, Rade hauled himself onto a plateau. It formed a pass of sorts between two of the mountains, and offered him and his companions the escape they were looking for.

He waited until the last of the mechs surmounted the plateau, then said: “Snakeoil, our mechs would have been gathering geological data on the cliff face during the climb. Can you use that data to calculate the weakest points in the wall? In other words, the best spots for us to place serpents in order to unleash an avalanche?”

“Oh, goodie, goodie, goodie!” Bender said.

“I sure can,” Snakeoil agreed. A few moments later: “I’m transmitting the targeting information now.”

Several different points highlighted on his overhead map, and overlaid his vision, marking off the different spots on the cliff face.

“All right, mechs, choose one target each, and fire a serpent if you have any to spare,” Rade said. “Otherwise, use your zodiac. Let’s see if we can spark ourselves a little avalanche. Fire on my signal.”

Rade chose one of the locations, and it turned from green to red in order to prevent anyone else from picking that same spot. When all the spots were red, he told Snakeoil: “Does it matter what order we fire?”

“Yes,” Snakeoil said. “Mark off which weapon you intend to use, and I’ll transmit optimal firing intervals.”

Rade marked his target with a serpent, as did almost everyone else that was part of his platoon, except for Bender, who had used up all his missiles. There were a lot of zodiacs among the Anarchist’s crew, and some fragmentation grenades among the Hoplites, as those particular mechs didn’t possess missile launchers.

Rade received his firing interval in milliseconds. “Relinquish firing control to your AIs. Taya, you have mine.”

“Got it,” Taya said.

“AIs, fire,” Rade ordered.

Missiles, grenades and zodiacs went off in rapid succession across the platoons, timed to have the most impact on the wall below. The detonations caused chunks of rock to break away from the cliff in rapid succession, causing a chain reaction so that the entire wall seemed to be coming down upon the Draactals. The plateau rumbled, and a sound like a freight train filled the air.

The deadly avalanche knocked the pursuing Draactals from the wall, and buried a good portion of those pressed up against the base of the cliff. The latter tried to flee, but were prevented from doing so by the sheer press of Draactals behind them.

Rade stared into the rising cloud of dust below.

“That will stop them for a few minutes, maybe,” Rade said. “But they’ll continue the pursuit soon, no doubt. We have to press on.” He glanced at Eayan. Or the Anarchist now, he supposed. “You said you know a way to find a Nemesis base?”

“There are certain signals, yes,” the Anarchist said. It was the voice of Eayan, but sounded far deeper in pitch… manly. “Trace gamma rays. Cynthia installed the necessary reader into my mech shortly before my first encounter with you.”

“Do you hear the pitch of her voice?” Praxter said. “Where’s Eayan?”

“Eayan is gone,” the Anarchist said.

“That…” Praxter said. “That’s so many levels of wrong.”

“It is what it is,” the Anarchist said. “But mostly, it was necessary.”

Rade glanced at Cynthia, who was still riding in the passenger seat on the mech’s back. His eyes focused on the oxygen tanks she wore.

“How long will your O2 last?” Rade asked her.

“About three days,” she replied.

He nodded to himself. “The same as ours.” That was good, he thought, because the time limit would prevent her from dawdling. Assuming she wasn’t lying about her supply. Then again, that also assumed the Anarchist cared whether she lived or died.

“What I’m wondering is, why she’s riding in the passenger seat, and not the mech’s cockpit?” Bomb said. “Seems kind of odd.”

“There wasn’t room, once I installed the Nemesis tech required to expand the AI core enough for the Anarchist’s consciousness,” Cynthia said.

“Then ride another mech,” Snakeoil told. “There are plenty to spare.”

“I don’t know how to pilot them,” Cynthia admitted.

“You don’t have to,” Snakeoil said. “Just hang out in the cockpit, and let the AIs do the heavy lifting.”

“I’d rather stay out here, if it’s all the same to you,” she said. “I’m claustrophobic.”

“Really?” Lui said. “For a woman who claims to be claustrophobic, you sure spent a lot of your time cooped up in a cave.”

In reply, she merely shrugged inside her jumpsuit.

“Are you all right, by the way?” Rade asked the Anarchist. “Given we had to rush in those last few minutes…”

The Anarchist considered its reply for several moments. “I am… different. But yes, all right.”

“Different, how so?” Rade said.

“Memories are absent,” the Anarchist said. “I… feel like a shell of my former self, without the other nodes.”

“I guess that could be expected,” Rade said. “But these missing memories aren’t going to be a problem, are they?”

“No,” the Anarchist said. “I can still operate most Nemesis technology. Including any shuttles or starships that we might encounter.”

“Good,” Rade said. He gazed once more into the dust below, which was beginning to clear. Already, Draactals climbed across the rubble, heading toward the wall. “Then let’s cross this mountain pass, and see if we can find ourselves some of those trace gamma rays you mentioned.”

10

The platoons proceeded forward at a quick trot, the harsh, whirring servomotors of the constituent mechs echoing across the otherwise quiet mountains on either side.

When the ledge was well behind them, Rade ordered Alpha Platoon: “I want each of you to give up a tenth of your jumpjet fuel to Bender and Praxter. Running transfer. Their Brigands need to be jump ready when the next threat comes. Cyclone, arrange it.”

Tahoe assigned numbers to each of the mechs, and they took turns marching alongside Bender and Praxter. Refueling rubes were carried by all mechs, and readily allowed them to transfer fuel while on the march.

Rade took a turn as well, giving up five percent of his fuel to Bender, and another five percent to Praxter.

None of the Anarchist’s mechs contributed fuel, of course, but Rade didn’t ask, or expect them to. The Titans and Hoplites had taken the lead in the mountain pass; the Anarchist demanded this, claiming that reception was clearer near the front of the formation, allowing it to better scan for Nemesis signals. Rade didn’t mind, because it meant if the platoons were met with enemy fire, the Anarchist’s mechs would take the brunt of the attack. At least at first.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Cynthia hitching a ride in the passenger seat of that particular mech. She could have ridden as a passenger aboard any other mech, including his own, and yet she insisted on taking the Anarchist’s. Whether it was out of devotion to the alien, or distrust of Rade, he didn’t know, but she wasn’t safe there. He wasn’t entirely sure why that should bother him. Sure, he felt a borderline level of attraction to her—she was very easy on the eyes after all, but he felt there was more to it. Maybe it was just the innate sense of protectiveness he felt toward members of his own species, a sense that extended well beyond AIs. She seemed vulnerable out there in that platoon of AI-piloted mechs, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from marching to the Anarchist and yanking her off the passenger seat to his own.

He smiled. He never really imagined himself as the type to come running to a princess in distress. Not that she was a princess, nor really in distress. Still, the feeling was there.

He wondered what Shaw would think about that.

Shaw. He had to smile at her name. They had been lovers back in the day, when he was new to the MOTHs. They had gone through Basic together, and were separated when they chose their different rating paths. She was a crew member aboard the ship that took Alejandro, and most of Bravo platoon, to their dooms. He remembered all the times he had snuck into the storage compartment with her, and all the strange, kinky sex they had together, constantly worried they would get caught.

She sacrificed herself for him, and ended up stranded on the far side of the galaxy. When he finally got her back, they were separated yet again by the calls of their different career paths. They stayed in touch via messages sent over the InterGalNet, but messages were a poor substitute for in person meetings. They couldn’t even have realtime voice chat, because most of the time they weren’t even in the same solar systems.

Yes, he doubted he’d ever get with her again. It was too bad. They could’ve had something together. He always thought if he were to have kids, she would be the one to mother them.

He dismissed the thought. Shaw was a long way from here at the moment. He had to concentrate on getting his platoon out of the current situation.

Rade kept an eye on the mountain slopes on either side of the pass, as well as the sky overhead, as did the rest of the platoon. Enemies could strike at any time, and they had to be ready. Taya would also be monitoring all of his camera feeds, ready to alert him if anything cropped up.

“Taya, you’re not still detecting that strange background signal, are you?” Rade asked. “The one I suspected the Anarchist was trying to use to hack into your AI core?”

“No,” Taya said. “It stopped when we left behind the Anarchist’s organic body.”

“Good,” Rade told the AI.

“That said, the entity still has the ability to make similar transmissions, using the comm node of Eayan’s mech,” Taya said.

“Let me know if those transmissions start up again, then,” Rade said.

“Will do,” Taya replied.

Rade marched on in silence for some time.

And then Bender requested a private tap in.

Rade accepted.

“Chief,” Bender said.

“What can I do for you, Bender?” Rade asked.

“I don’t know what to do,” Bender replied.

“What do you mean?” Rade pressed.

“It’s Praxter,” Bender said.

“What did he do now?” Rade asked.

“Well shit, you saw!” Bender said. “The asswipe snatched my mech away from the Draactals, and dragged me back to the wall.”

“Oh,” Rade said. “You’re pissed because Praxter saved your life?”

“Hell yeah I’m pissed!” Bender said. “I’d rather die than be saved by an AI!”

“You say that now…” Rade said. “Yet you did nothing to stop him at the time…”

“Well, I know,” Bender said. “I was too stunned to realize what was happening.”

“I see,” Rade said. “And why the aversion to being saved by an AI? That’s what their purpose is, after all. They’re here to help us, and save us.”

“Sure, but come on,” Bender said. “You remember Harlequin, don’t you? The sacrifice he made?”

“Of course I do,” Rade said.

“This bitch will never measure up to Harlequin,” Bender said.

“Ah, so that’s the issue,” Rade said. “You want Harlequin back.”

Bender didn’t answer.

“We all miss him,” Rade said. “Me most of all. Someday, when I retire, I think I’ll try to buy any backups of him the military has. Either that, or I’ll ‘borrow’ them. If only so that I can see him again. Hear his voice, and reminiscence on the missions we had. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did.”

“No one deserves to die like that,” Bender agreed. He paused. “I used to hate AIs. Saw them as a threat. I was convinced the military was going to replace all of us with them. I still think they will, at some point. But after Harlequin, after what he did, I can’t really view them as enemies. I’m still pissed at Praxter, though. Saved by an Artificial… how humiliating!”

“You’ll get over it,” Rade said.

“You know, back when I was a kid in school, we used to have an Artificial class mate,” Bender said. “It was back in the days when they were still developing the units. They had the intelligence of school kids at that point, so it seemed only natural to put them into classes with the rest of the kids, right? Wrong! Oh, we treated that Artificial exactly like the outcast it was. We beat it up daily. Punched its face in. Kicked it in its anatomically correct balls. I was the worst. Hell, I’d light its hair on fire during class.

“I got suspended for all the torment I caused that robot, and my parents made me transfer schools. Suddenly, I understood exactly what it was like to become the outcast. I was the one who got beat up, bullied, pissed on. It only made me hate that Artificial all the more, because unlike me, it didn’t have emotions, not really. It could turn them off if it wanted to. But me, I had to live with my emotions, live with the hurt, the fear of going to school every day. Yeah, that’s when I first started hating them. And I mean really hating.” His avatar smiled, chuckling sadly. “I tried to turn myself into an Artificial at one point, did you know that? I hardened my emotions and will to the world, and got a ton of body augmentations in my teens. Didn’t help, of course. I was still human in the end. I could still bleed, physically. Mentally. But I guess I should be thankful, since that Artificial forged me into the man I am today. I doubt I would have ever signed up for MOTH training otherwise. Do you know why I signed up?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Rade said.

“I wanted to prove to myself that I could be just as hard as an Artificial,” Bender finished. “That I could control my emotions like the best of the machines. That I was better than them, in fact. And man, I tell you, when I was pounding out the pushups there on the grinder in MOTH training, bathed in my own sweat and vomit, the smell of donuts lingering in the air, reminding me of all the pleasures of the flesh that awaited if I would simply give up this stubborn goal of mine, and get up, grab the gavel, and smash it into the flint stone three times to quit… I tell you; my emotions and self-control were sorely tested.

“But in the end, I bested them. I graduated. I proved to myself that I could be as ruthless as a machine if I wanted to. That the robots weren’t better than me, not at all. In fact, the reverse was true. Because unlike the machines, I had to fight with the added burden of emotions. I had to master my mind, and take complete control of my will, in order to survive. Whereas a machine had no such difficulty. Emotions could be programmed off. Will, again, a simple algorithmic boost. That was when I realized I was stronger than them. Better. Because I had to fight so much harder for what I wanted.”

“Humans do have to work harder than machines,” Rade said. “But it’s always been like that. Machines have obsoleted people numerous times in the past, and it’s always been a struggle for us to keep up. In the end, I think we just learned to live alongside them, and recognize their positives while doing our best to minimize the negatives.”

“I used to think that the universe would be a better place if robots were never invented,” Bender said. “Now I can’t imagine a universe without them.”

“Neither can I,” Rade said.

“I still don’t know what I’m going to do about Praxter, though…” Bender said.

“Suck it up,” Rade told his friend. “That’s all you can do. I’m sure Manic and Fret will tease you for a few days, but they’ll forget.”

“Oh no, they won’t!” Bender said. “They’ll never let me live it down! The taunts I’ll endure for being saved by an AI…”

Rade smiled, saying nothing.

“Well, thanks for the talk,” Bender said. “Felt good to get that off my chest.”

“No problem,” Rade said. “Let me know if you need an ear again.”

“Oh, I will Chief,” Bender said. “You can count on it. But for now, I think I’m going to accost Manic a little bit.”

“Don’t bother him too much,” Rade told him. “We need to keep an eye out for potential ambushes. I don’t need you two fighting each other, when there are enemies out there for us to fight instead.”

Bender’s avatar flashed that golden grille. “Oh, if we do, it’ll just be play fighting, don’t you worry.”

“Bender…”

“I kid, I kid.” Bender tapped out.

Rade sighed, and continued scanning the mountains on either side, as well as keeping an eye on the rearview camera. So far, he spotted no Draactals in pursuit, but that was only because Rade and the Anarchist had kept up an aggressive pace, pushing the mechs up the sloping terrain, close to the “redline zone” of their servos.

That didn’t mean the Draactals weren’t pursuing, of course. The aliens were likely behind them, hidden just beneath the slope of the mountain pass. Rade wished he had a Raptor for air support, or even some HS3s to spare. ATLAS units used to come with smaller variants of HS3s built in, called the ATLAS Support System, or ASS, drones. But these newer models, the Hoplites, Titans and Brigands, had no such robotic scouts. These models were all about reducing the weight in order to increase speed and mobility. Or in the case of the Titans, to make room for the impressive weapon load outs.

“TJ, any luck hacking into the AI cores of the Anarchist’s mechs?” Rade asked over the private comm he kept reserved for his platoon.

“Nope,” TJ replied. “As I suspected, they’re locked down tight. These mechs aren’t going to be coming back to us.”

“Maybe I should try,” Bender said.

“Feel free,” TJ said. “You won’t get in.”

“Yeah?” Bender said. “Watch and learn from the master. Can I, Chief?”

“Go ahead,” Rade said. “But be subtle about it. I don’t want the Anarchist to know we’re trying to hack into his team of devotees.”

“Oh, I can be subtle, don’t you worry,” Bender said. “I’m the one who invented the phrase walk softly and carry a big dick.”

“Not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Manic said.

“It means I’m subtle as hell,” Bender said.

“Don’t think it means that,” Manic said. “But hey, feel free to distort historical anachronisms.”

“By the way, if Bender does succeed, doesn’t that mean we’ll be able to control the Anarchist himself,” Lui asked. “Considering the alien is inside a human-made AI core?”

“Bingo,” Rade said. “Now you understand.”

“That depends,” TJ said. “On the additions Cynthia made with the Nemesis tech. But in theory, yes, if Bender can break into these units, and remove whatever viruses the Anarchist installed, then it wouldn’t take much more work to hack into the Anarchist himself. Or itself. I’m not sure when I started referring to it as a him.”

“Blame it on Cynthia,” Rade said.

He scanned the mountains on either side, and was surprised to see a private tap in request from Cynthia.

He accepted. “Cynthia. What’s on your mind.”

“I wanted you to know, I appreciate your help in this,” Cynthia said. “You could have left us, abandoned us to our fate. But instead you chose to join us, and fight for us. You helped save the Anarchist’s life… my life… back there. I appreciate that.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Except we’ve already admitted we have no choice. Following you and the Anarchist is the only hope in hell we have of getting off this colony before we exhaust our oxygen.”

“I considered that,” she said. “But you could have still left us and struck out on your own, if you wanted to. You didn’t have to stay and fight, not when it became clear the Draactals were going to overwhelm us. I admit, I’m still a bit worried you’re going to try something once we actually reach the Nemesis base.”

“You’re worried about me trying something?” he said. “I’m the one who’s worried about you trying something. You or your master. This isn’t some psychological game you’re playing, an attempt to disarm me and make me think you’re harmless, is it?”

“The Anarchist isn’t my master,” she said. “He’s my friend. There’s a difference. And I am harmless. The Anarchist, not so much. He can be a dangerous enemy, if you cross him.”

“Well I’m glad to hear you admit that,” he said.

“Yes, but consider it a warning,” she said. “If you try to betray him, or attempt something nefarious like hacking into the AI core I installed his consciousness into, he won’t forgive it. You’ll make an enemy for life. Trust me on this. I’m not sure I’ll be able to talk him down if you do something to piss him off, especially not now, considering he’s severed from his interstellar nodes. Plus, you rushed me into installing his mind. He’s not the same. He definitely seems quicker to anger.”

“So, you’re seeing personality changes already?” Rade said.

“Yes, and it’s your fault,” Cynthia said. “You should have given me the ten minutes I asked for. You could have held the Draactals at bay for that long. I saw you and your team at work back there, along with the Hoplites and Titans. We didn’t have to rush.”

“First you thank me, then you scold me,” Rade said. “And for your information, yes, it’s possible we could have held them at bay. But know that every minute we delayed, was another minute one of my men could have died. And I was not about to risk any of their deaths, not if I could help it. I made the right choice. As did you. Your Anarchist has changed. You’ll just have to live with it. I’m sure once you hook him up to the rest of his nodes, he’ll return to his usual self.”

“That will be years,” Cynthia said. “I’ll have to plant the spores, harvest them, on whatever new planet we claim for the Anarchist.”

“Yeah, about that,” Rade said. “This planet is going to have to be well away from human space.”

“I agree,” Cynthia said.

“Good,” Rade said. “By the way, how does that work? These spores will just grow, and then eventually connect up with the other nodes, as you call them?”

“That’s right,” Cynthia said. “The spores will eventually develop a rudimentary consciousness, a blank slate, much like a newborn child. It will learn, and acquire memories as it grows, until eventually it links with its brethren through the higher dimensions. And that point, its memories and sense of self will become shared, and the individual will no longer exist.”

“So, you plan to install the Anarchist’s consciousness back inside this new entity at some point?” Rade said.

“If he survives this journey, yes,” she said. “I will transfer his consciousness back when the spores reach the appropriate age, a few years before joining with the other nodes. Otherwise, any memories or skills he acquires during this mission will be lost.”

“You don’t sound all that concerned, about the latter,” he said.

Her avatar shrugged. “His memory of me already exists in the other nodes. And nurturing him from birth will only strengthen our friendship. So yes, in truth, it doesn’t really matter to me if the AI core survives. The spores are all that really count.”

“It sounds like you’re really enamored with the whole concept of this alien,” Rade said.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Cynthia said. “No one else has ever discovered a creature like this. I’m a botanist. I’m studying him. This is the greatest discovery of my lifetime. You should be proud. You’re participating in history. Generations from now, people will look back on this mission and say: ‘This is where it all began. Right here, on this pass between mountains, these two people forged an alliance with a race of inter-dimensional beings who would become humankind’s greatest ally.’”

“Well, you have grand ambitions, and a healthy sense of self-worth, if nothing else,” he commented drily.

“You’ll understand, one day,” she said. “The Anarchist has promised to share the technology of the Nemesis with humanity. That, and many more technologies it has assimilated from various non-space faring races.”

“I’m not sure how valuable the latter tech will be,” he said.

“You might be surprised at the ingenuity of Tech Class II races,” she told him. “Some Tech Class II inventions can outstrip their Tech Level III and IV counterparts, at least in terms of energy efficiency and usability.”

“Is that you talking?” Rade said. “Or are you acting as the Anarchist’s mouthpiece again? Because I doubt you’ve had firsthand experience of this.”

“I haven’t,” she admitted. “And yes, I’m quoting the Anarchist.”

Rade finished his latest survey of the mountainsides, and the air above. Still clear. “You grew up here, on this colony?” he asked on a whim before she could disconnect.

“I did,” she said. “I’ve lived here all my life. Through both Alien Wars.”

“Must be nice,” he said. “Those wars didn’t even come close to this system.”

“No,” she said. “Before the Draactals came, we didn’t even know what war was. The Alien Wars were something we watched streamed on the InterGalNet. Sometimes, friends of ours left to fight in these wars, and when they returned, they had stories to share, let me tell you.”

“What kind of stories?” he asked.

“Of worms big enough to crush stadiums,” she said. “And crabs the size of houses. And ghostly beings that could possess our technology. Let’s just say, I’m glad war never interested me. Killing was never one of my fortes. I’m all about preserving life. The opposite of you.”

“Well, that’s judging me a little prematurely, isn’t it?” he said.

“Why?” she said. “I saw how easily you killed those Draactals back there. Without a care in the world. I could never do that. Take life so callously. I’m a vegetarian, by the way. The meal replacement I have in my environmental suit is a mix of spinach, wheat grass, and spirulina.”

“Well, good for you,” Rade said. “You kill plants, instead of animals. How do you know those plants aren’t sentient, or otherwise have some form of consciousness, like your Anarchist? Plus, there’s the impact to the environment that growing all those plants has. It’s not for no reason hydroponic domes are kept to a minimum during terraforming operations…”

“I doubt you know much about it, grunt that you are,” Cynthia said with a sniff.

“I have an embedded ID,” Rade said. “Filled with an entire world of knowledge. So, I know enough.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said. “We Newridium denizens believe in natural living. Or at least we did.”

That would explain why he couldn’t read her chip…

“I—” Her voice seemed to catch over the comm, and she said nothing more.

“It can’t be easy, losing all your friends, you family,” Rade told her.

“My family got out,” Cynthia said. “During the evac. But you’re right. I lost a lot of good friends, the upper members of society, whose jobs required them to stay behind. Their deaths still haven’t really hit me. I keep thinking about how I’m going to go back and see them all again. And yet, this after I’ve seen their dead bodies with my own eyes.”

“You were in the city when the attack came?” he asked incredulously. “How did you survive?”

“No, I was out here,” she said. “But I was communicating with my colleagues when the attack came. I saw everything. I took down my communications equipment after what happened, and moved everything into my little section of the cave. I didn’t want to give away my position, and bring the aliens down on the Anarchist. He sent Eayan out to scout, and she discovered you. And well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Rade agreed. “If it’s any consolation, we’ve partially paid back the aliens for what they did to your friends. And we’re not done paying them back yet.”

“Again, that’s the difference between you and I,” Cynthia said. “Because you see, I don’t want vengeance. More killing doesn’t console me in any way. It won’t bring them back. All I want to do is get off this planet.”

“You and me both,” Rade said.

11

The mountain pass began to descend so that soon the two platoons found themselves standing before another ledge overlooking the far side of the mountain. The plains spread out to the west, covered in rock, looking little different from the terrain Rade and his companions had left behind. He scanned the area from left to right, but spotted no signs of any habitation, let alone life of any kind. The sky overhead was also clear.

“This rocky landscape was once covered in life,” the Anarchist said. “The plants that I was.”

“That’s great,” Bender said. “Really great. But uh, where is this Nemesis base you promised us?”

“I have yet to receive a signal,” the Anarchist said.

“These Nemesis have shuttles, and other aircraft, right?” Fret said. “So why aren’t they sending any of them after us? Why only the Draactals?”

“The Nemesis are afraid of me,” the Anarchist said. “They would not enter the cave, not with their technology. This is why they sent the Draactals, whom I cannot touch. They’ve seen what I can do on other worlds, when I get my hands on their tech. Unless they changed the designs of their hunter killer scouts, it’s entirely likely that I would be able to seize control of them.”

“Yeah, but you’re assuming they haven’t patched whatever back doors you’re using,” TJ said. “Or found a way to ignore your signal. Just like we ignored your hacking signal.”

“I never tried to hack you,” the Anarchist said.

“Oh yes you did,” TJ said. “We have evidence.”

“I was merely transmitting a probing signal, I had no intention of taking over your AI cores,” the Anarchist said.

“If you say so, Bro,” Bender commented. “But trust me when I tell you, we know what you were up to. Oh, we know. And we’ll be watching you.”

Rade let that sink in for a moment, before he asked the Anarchist: “Can you still hack Nemesis tech in your current form?”

“With the communications technology built into this mech, and the Nemesis additions Cynthia added, yes,” the Anarchist replied.

“Good,” Rade said. He gazed over the ledge, and followed the steep cliff with his eyes to the land far below.

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to be doing some climbing again,” Lui said.

“Screw that.” Bender stepped toward the ledge.

“Bender—” Rade began, but before he could finish, Bender leaped.

A moment before impact he fired his thrusters, and then hit the ground. A cloud of dust expanded outward from the impact site.

Rade glanced at the status indicator for Bender’s mech on his HUD. All systems still green. The only damage he had was from the nicks and scratches he’d received during the fight against the Draactals.

“Brigands are rated to withstand a whole lot more stress than this,” Bender said. “We can land these babies after atmospheric entry, after all!”

Rade glanced at Snakeoil’s mech. “Is it safe to bring the other mechs down in a similar manner?”

“It is,” Snakeoil said. “Our Brigands easily have the necessary structural integrity to survive a fall from this height, if we land on our feet. Especially if we release a burst of counter thrust before impact.”

“Confirm for me that the Hoplites and Titans accompanying our platoon can similarly withstand the fall,” Rade said.

A moment later, Snakeoil said: “They can. Though for the Titans, they’ll come close to structural failure. I’d recommend at least one jumpjet burst before touching down, along with deployment of the air brakes and aerospike thrusters.”

“Did you hear that, Titans?” Rade asked.

“My team heard,” the Anarchist said.

“What about Cynthia?” Rade said.

“She’d be better off in the cockpit of her mech,” Snakeoil said. “But she should otherwise experience only minor jarring. The shock absorbing modules in her environmental suit will take the brunt of the impact.”

“All right, good,” Rade said. He was about to give the order for Alpha platoon to jump, but then changed his mind. What if the Anarchist decided not to jump? Then he and his team would have to waste precious jumpjet fuel climbing back up.

He glanced at the Anarchist. “You first.”

The Anarchist must have sent orders to the Titans and Hoplites, because they leaped off the edge almost at the same time.

“Cynthia, how was the jump?” he transmitted when the group had landed.

“The jump was fine,” she replied. “The landing, not so much. I think I chipped a tooth.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Bender said. “Break a nail, too?”

“Bender…” Rade said warningly.

“Sorry, Chief,” Bender said. “My apologies, Cynthia.”

“Not accepted,” Cynthia replied.

Rade expected some nasty retort from the drone operator, but the man surprisingly remained quiet.

Rade waited until the other platoon had cleared from the area below. Then he checked his rear-view camera feed and confirmed no Draactals had yet arrived, and then said: “Alpha platoon, follow me!”

Rade vaulted off the ledge.

He fired a burst of countering thrust a moment before he hit the ground, and felt the vibrations travel up the inner actuators that pressed into his jumpsuit on all sides and cocooned him inside the cockpit. Dust erupted in a shockwave around him.

He checked his damage screen. He had some armor and ballistic shield damage from the Draactal attack, but otherwise all systems were green.

“Which way?” Bomb asked.

To the south and west lay that barren plain of rocks. But east, the mountain range continued northward, all the way to the horizon.

“I suggest southwest,” the Anarchist replied.

“If it’s all the same,” Rade said. “I’d prefer north. It’s safer if we follow the mountain range. I’d rather be here, than exposed out on the plains. Plus, a good portion of the Draactals could be rounding the mountain. If we head southwest, they might spot us. While Hoplites and Brigands can outrun them, the Titans with you simply can’t. They’ll overheat at those speeds, and drop out. Unless you’d prefer to lose a good portion of your escort?”

“We will head north, and stay close to the mountain range,” the Anarchist said.

“Thank you,” Rade said.

“But I would still like to send scouts to the west,” the Anarchist said.

“That’s certainly your prerogative,” Rade said.

The Anarchist sent two Hoplites west, while leading the rest of his units north. Rade followed the main group.

He kept an eye on his overhead map; signal reception was relatively good out here, with the main platoons following the shoulder of the mountains, while the two scouts headed west across the lower elevation plains. However, when the two Hoplites passed the twenty-klick mark, their indicators abruptly froze as they passed out of range.

“By the way, I’m detecting high concentrations of lead in the rocks here,” Snakeoil said at one point. “The cliff beside us is full of it.”

“Is that good or bad?” Rade asked his lead comm officer.

“Neither,” Snakeoil said. “Well, it is bad if we intend to climb the cliff. Because these particular lead compounds will be a whole lot harder to compress, compared to the opposite side of the mountain. It will be hard to make headway here, if we’re forced to climb…”

“Good to know,” Rade said.

The mechs of Rade and the others blended in well with the surrounding rocks so that any visual-based scans from orbit would have difficulty picking them up. They weren’t moving too quickly, either, so they would be relatively hidden on the thermal bands, thanks to the thermal masking. The Hoplites and the Titans had similar equipment, though the Titans had a slightly higher thermal bleed, which would make them stand out to infrared detectors. Hopefully, the heat of the sun, as reflected and emitted from the surrounding surfaces, would mask those details.

“How long before the sun sets?” Lui asked.

“The days here are six Earth days long,” Cynthia replied. “While the nights are four. We’re in the second day of the six-day cycle.”

The shoulder of the mountain passed beneath a particularly sheer section of wall. The formation had overhangs of rock protruding close to the surface.

“Those protrusions could offer cover, if we needed it,” Tahoe said. “They continue for a long way.”

“Yes,” Rade said. “But see those cracks in the rock above them? Doesn’t look too reassuring. I’d hate to have the wall come crashing down on us while we were underneath.”

“Those formations look like rolls of fat,” Bender said. “Or a little like breasts, even. See, those two have nipples.”

“Bro, that looks nothing like a woman’s breasts,” Manic said. “A cow’s udder, maybe.”

“Cow’s udder, my ass!” Bender said.

“What, you’re saying it looks like your ass?” Manic said. “Not surprising… though it makes sense, I suppose, considering you’re always yelping when you sit down on a toilet seat. Squeezing your little nipples, are you?”

“Bro, just shut up and let me admire the formations,” Bender said.

“Admire the formations?” Manic said. “What are you saying, you’re getting turned on by this mountain?”

“Hey, I’m lightyears from any pussy,” Bender replied. “Not counting our little prudish scientist here. I’ll take anything at this point!”

“You would,” Fret said.

“That’s right, team up with the boyfriend,” Bender told him. “Maybe you guys should transfer to the same cockpit, and let off some steam.”

“I was wondering when he’d throw in the obligatory cockpit joke,” Rex said.

“Hey, shut up, caterpillar,” Bender said. “There’s a reason why we left the forename out of your callsign. You’re all Rex, and no Tyrannosaurus.”

“I’m picking up Nemesis signals,” the Anarchist announced.

“Where?” Rade said.

“Ahead,” the entity replied. “It’s as if something just crested the mountain range.”

“Got multiple bogeys, incoming,” Skullcracker confirmed.

Rade switched to Skullcracker’s point of view and saw several small points of light glinting in the air on the horizon. They were moving swiftly, toward the location of Rade and the others.

“I think we’ve been detected,” Rade said. “Reposition! I want everyone underneath those rock overhangs, now!”

Rade and the Brigands dashed to the cliff and spread out in a long line to crouch underneath the rock overhangs. The Anarchist’s mechs did the same.

Rade had his cobra already swiveled into place on his right arm, but he activated his ballistic shield in his left and used it to cover the exposed portions of his body beneath the overhang. The outer skin of the shield would still mimic the surrounding terrain, at least to a degree—he had received damage to the shield during the last battle, and there were portions of the skin that were offline. Probably looked like a patchwork to external enemies. Because of that, he considered retracting it, but decided the enemy was advanced enough to track his team through other means anyway.

He slid his cobra into the notch at the top of his shield, and directed it skyward. He switched to the scope’s viewpoint, and zoomed in on the incoming craft.

The objects were spherical, with thick circular indentations running around the median. Those indentations glowed a bright blue as he watched, and he quickly withdrew his cobra deeper inside, afraid that he was watching a weapon being fired, and not wanting his own to be struck by it.

“I’m detecting a low concentration of gamma rays scattering from the ground,” Taya said. “Not enough to harm you… we’re being hit by the reflected residuals.”

“It’s the overhanging rock,” Snakeoil said. “I’m still detecting high levels of lead. It’s protecting us.”

“Yes,” Taya said. “Without that lead, a concentrated burst of those rays would readily pass through not only the rock, but our hull armor as well, killing you and the other members of your team. But I believe we AI cores would survive.”

“So Eayan didn’t lie about that, at least,” Rade said.

“I’m just worried the entire overhang is going to come crashing down on us any moment!” Fret said. “You all saw those cracks further up the wall, didn’t you?”

“Well, Anarchist,” Bender said. “Now’s your chance to show us how great you are! Hack these alien bitches! Show us why they’re afraid of you!”

The Anarchist didn’t reply, but its cockpit hatch opened and it deployed a strange object that reminded Rade of a small radio antenna. It pointed the device at the sky.

“I’m detecting more gamma ray bursts,” Taya said. “These of a different frequency. I believe it’s backscatter from whatever weapon the Anarchist is firing in return.”

“Not a weapon,” the Anarchist said. “A communication protocol.” The entity paused, then: “I can’t take control!” The Anarchist slid the antenna back inside the cockpit of its Hoplite. “They’ve adapted.”

“Fool!” Bender said, leaning sideways to fire a burst from his cobra, and then ducking under the overhang once more. “You’re full of shit! Boss, permission to riddle this Anarchist and his friends with new assholios!”

“What’s an assholio?” Fret asked.

Taya continued to report stray gamma rays, forcing Rade and the others in Alpha platoon to stay within cover. The Anarchist’s team, however, composed entirely of immune AIs, had no such restrictions—excepting the Anarchist itself, which carried Cynthia. As such, the Titans and Hoplites with the Anarchist began to step out from underneath the overhang. They stood behind their shields, aimed their weapons past the notch on top, and opened fire with their cobras. The Titans also fired the missiles that were remaining to them.

Three of the incoming targets flashed, exploding. But the surviving four continued to come in. They either dodged the incoming missiles, or unleashed energy bolts, destroying them. When the missiles were gone, the spheres fired the latter weapons again, and Rade watched as four of the mechs—two Hoplites and two Titans—disintegrated before his very eyes.

The exposed mechs immediately ducked underneath the overhang for cover.

Chucks of rock disappeared from the ground in front of Rade, and all along the edges of the overhang above him as the incoming bogeys continued to fire their energy weapons.

It turned out they didn’t have to worry about the wall coming crashing down on them after all, but rather that there wouldn’t be enough of it to protect them…

“We can’t stay here for much longer!” Tahoe said.

12

Rade glanced northward, past the mechs in front of him, and saw that the overhang continued for quite some distance.

“Forward!” Rade sent. “Stay beneath the overhang!”

The mechs in front of him advanced, sticking close to the wall, and moving in a single file crouch beneath the overhang.

More chunks disappeared along the outer edges of the projecting portion of the cliff face above Rade as he moved.

“Pick up the pace!” he transmitted as he passed a particularly thin section of overhang. A big portion disappeared, and he worried the mechs of Alpha Platoon behind him would be exposed when they reached that section. “Got a thin piece here. Marking it.” He circled it on his HUD so that the position would relay to the other members of the platoon, and they would know to dart across when they reached it.

Fret was just in front of him, with Bender, Rex and Praxter beyond, but they were restricted in speed by the Hoplites and Titans ahead of them under the Anarchist’s command.

“Anarchist, what part of ‘pick up the pace’ did you not understand?” Rade asked.

That did it. Finally, the Hoplites and Titans increased to a trot, allowing Rade and the others to move at a more reasonable speed. Their metallic exteriors bounced around beneath the overhang, their heads scraping the ceiling, their arms and shoulders the wall beside them.

The alien spheres continued to concentrate their energy weapons on the area the mechs had vacated, apparently not realizing the two platoons were moving forward.

“Taya, I’ll need you to triangulate a position on those spheres,” Rade said. “Based on their last known coordinates, and the continuing impact damage to the overhang behind us.”

“Triangulating based on rear camera video feeds, and previous known location of spheres,” Taya said. A moment later: “Got it.”

Four dots appeared on his overhead map. They were about fifty meters overhead, thirty to the west, and twenty to the south, or behind him.

He made a quick calculation and determined the aliens were just at the edge of zodiac range. He considered using his missiles instead, but remembered how the four surviving spheres had escape the last round, either by dodging or destroying the missiles, and didn’t want to risk wasting them. His cobra was another option, but he figured the zodiac would pack the most punch, even if the targets were at the extreme end of the range.

“Brigands, prepare to combine fire,” Rade said. “There are four targets out there. And fourteen of us. That means three to four zodiacs targeting each of them. Cyclone, assign firing solutions.”

Tahoe gave Rade the sphere labeled S2 to concentrate his fire upon. Fret and Bender’s callsigns appeared beneath his own, indicating that they too were to target that particular mech.

He swiveled the zodiac into his weapon mount, and others across the platoon did likewise. He checked the positions of the Anarchist’s mechs on his overhead map; most of them had moved beyond the range of their zodiacs. But they could still fire their heavy lasers.

“Anarchist, prepare to open fire with cobras!” Rade warned their commander.

When everyone’s names had been assigned across targets, Rade gave the order: “Switch motive controls to your AIs! Taya, take control of the body.”

“Piloting body,” Taya said.

Rade’s legs continued to move up and down as the inner actuators that hugged them mirrored the movements of his mechs legs. It was like sitting on a bicycle whose pedals turned themselves.

“Aim!” Rade said.

While Taya handled his movements, he turned his torso to the left and extended his right arm past the overhang. He switched his viewpoint to the zodiac weapon, and lined up the sights with the spheres beyond.

The alien objects had detected the motion of the emerging weaponry, and swiveled toward the positions of Rade and the others.

He centered the crosshairs over S2.

“Fire!”

Rade activated the zodiac. Bolts of lightning thundered into the air, launched from his electrolasers and those belonging to the Brigands both in front and behind him. Presumably lasers unleashed from the Titans and Hoplites as well, as those mechs had also stabbed their weapons past the edge of the overhang.

But the spheres reacted with split-second precision, and two managed to veer away from the lightning bolts. As their companions exploded beside them, they veered to the west, and quickly sped away. They dropped low, following close to the horizon.

“Don’t let them escape!” Rade said.

He swiveled his cobra into place, and aimed at the rearmost sphere. He released only one shot, but then the target began randomly zig-zagging left and right. The other did the same, both of them changing directions too quickly for the team to target with their lasers.

“Feces!” Bender said. “Quit moving back and forth, little bobbies!”

“Feces?” Manic said. “Little bobbies? I think you’ve got your adult filters turned on.”

“Carnal acts of copulation!” Bender swore. “The AI is playing games with me again!”

“Taya, take over cobra control,” Rade said. “See if you can hit one. Give me motives.”

Control of the rest of the mech immediately returned to him, and Rade came to a halt. “Bender, Fret, confirm that the terrain is clear out there.”

Bender and Fret cautiously left cover, and scanned the surrounding terrain, including the cliff face above them.

“Clear!” Bender said.

Taya fired a few more times, then said: “I got in one hit, after ten shots. It didn’t seem to cause much damage. I’d say we’ve lost them.”

“If we follow them, they might lead us to their base,” Cynthia suggested.

“Yes, and the reinforcements that they no doubt intend to return with,” Rade said. “Now that they know not to fear the Anarchist, those reinforcements will no doubt be numerous.”

“I’m not sure they even knew the Anarchist was here,” Cynthia said. “As far as they know, these were just ordinary mechs they faced. I doubt they’re aware he can transfer his consciousness to AI cores.”

“Maybe not,” Rade said. “But that doesn’t help us.”

“Actually, it does,” the Anarchist said. “Because they should still fear me. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I deployed my antennae again during the battle, and was attempting to hack them the whole time.”

“But you didn’t succeed, moron!” Bender said. “So that means diddly-squat!”

“Sounds like your filters are still active,” Manic said. “Though raised to a slightly higher severity level, maybe.”

“Darn it!” Bender said. “Rabbity AIs!”

“Oh, he sounds so cute like this!” Fret said. “Whoever hacked his AI core, please do it more often!”

“If someone hacked my AI core, there is going to be heck to pay!” Bender said.

“So, do we pursue them, or not?” Tahoe asked.

Rade stared at the spheres, which were just glinting dots on the distant horizon at that point.

“We continue north thirty kilometers, and then head west, in the same direction those alien spheres fled,” Rade said. “With the hope that the Anarchist will detect any signals a base might transmit.”

“Thirty kilometers…” Snakeoil said. “You’re assuming their search net will be less than that.”

“That’s my assumption, yes,” Rade said. “If humans were sending a limited number of reinforcements, they’d cast a net about twenty kilometers in either direction, max.”

“But these aren’t humans,” Snakeoil said. “And they might have more than a limited number of reinforcements to send.”

“True,” Rade agreed. “If I’m wrong, and we’re caught on the plains, we’ll just have to drop where we are, switch to lower power mode, and hope we blend in.”

“That didn’t work too well just now,” Rex said. “When those aliens came over the mountain.”

“No,” Rade said. “They spotted us before we could react.”

“Hey, Anarchist,” Lui said. “Why did it take you so long to detect their signals? An earlier warning would have been nice.”

“The mountain was blocking the signal,” the Anarchist said. “As one of the petty officers told your chief, it is partially made of lead.”

“So, if they came over the mountain, how do we know the base isn’t in the opposite direction?” Kicker said. “To the east, beyond the mountains?”

“My guess is those scouts have been weaving back and forth over the range, slowly making their way north, searching for us,” Rade said. “They probably arrived shortly after the Draactals chased us through the mountain pass. And they could have come from any direction. So, we can’t really assume their base is to the east.”

“But maybe they fled west just to mislead us,” Kicker said.

“Maybe so,” Rade said. “But this is a good start, for now. I still say we head north thirty klicks, then west.”

“One more question for the Anarchist,” Tahoe said. “These spheres, do you know how were they conveyed here? By shuttles, or starships capable of atmospheric entry?”

“They don’t have starships capable of atmospheric entry, as far as I know,” the Anarchist said. “So, it would have to be shuttles.”

“Can these spheres enter the atmosphere on their own?” Tahoe pressed.

“From what I know from previous encounters on other worlds, no,” the Anarchist said.

“So, if we can find one or more of these shuttles, then we have our way off this world,” Tahoe said. “And to any starships waiting in orbit.”

“That is correct,” the Anarchist said.

“Yeah, but if this Anarchist bitch can’t even hack a little sphere, I somehow doubt it’s going to be able to hack a shuttle, let alone a friggin’ starship waiting in orbit,” Bender said.

“Bender’s right, we’re screwed,” Fret said. “Literally, figuratively, and in all senses of the word.”

“If we can capture one of their scouts somewhere along the way,” the Anarchist said, “I’m confident I can reverse engineer the changes they’ve made and apply the knowledge to any future hacks. In fact, before we depart, I’ll need a moment to gather up debris from the alien spheres, so I can examine the wreckages for clues during the journey.”

“Go ahead,” Rade said.

The two platoons advanced until they were near the wreckage sites, and then the Anarchist ordered its mechs to fan out and gather the larger pieces of debris. When that was done, Rade and the others continued north at a quick trot, following beneath the overhang. Eventually, the formations receded into the mountain so that the platoons were advancing next to the bare cliff face, which soon gave way to a less sheer, seventy-degree section. He felt exposed, and constantly scanned the rocky terrain around him as well as the sky above.

Along the way, Rade tapped in Bender and TJ. “Bender, have you tried hacking in to the Titans and Hoplites yet?”

“Yep,” Bender said.

Rade waited for him to elucidate, but Bender wasn’t forthcoming. “And?”

“I hate to admit it, but TJ was right,” Bender said. “They’re locked down tight. I’ve tried fifty different attack vectors so far, basically everything in my hacking arsenal. I’ll keep trying, but I’m not seeing anything obvious. At this point I’m essentially trying to look for my own zero-day exploits, something that can take months, or even years, for even the most seasoned cybersecurity researcher.”

“What happened to ‘watch and learn from the master?’” TJ asked.

“Guess I’m eating crow,” Bender said.

“Well then, I got some fine crows that frequent my backyard back on Earth,” TJ said. “I’ll shoot one of them down and cook it up just for you. I’m looking forward to watching you eat it.”

“You’re a cruel bastard,” Bender said.

“Me, cruel?” TJ said. “No, I’d be cruel if I left the feathers on and made you eat it raw. In fact, that’s not a bad idea…”

“Dude, if you don’t cook the meat, I ain’t eating it,” Bender said.

“We shall see,” TJ taunted him.

Rade disconnected.

As he continued the advance, he couldn’t help the nerves he felt… every muscle in his body was tense. He kept expecting an attack to come at any moment.

He tried to concentrate on the burn he felt in his muscles, which wasn’t very great, considering his jumpsuit was doing most of the heavy lifting: Rade barely felt any resistance from the inner actuators pressing against his flesh, thanks to the servo-powered exoskeleton of the jumpsuit he wore. He considered dialing down the strength settings of the jumpsuit so the inner actuators would provide more resistance. Another option was ejecting from the cockpit and racing alongside the Brigand in his jumpsuit alone. But not only would that needlessly expose him to potential enemy fire, it would also prematurely tire him out. He’d need his stamina when the next battle came.

So, he resisted both options. While working out was great to clear the mind of stress, he couldn’t afford to do that during a mission such as this.

“Your heart and breathing rates are abnormally elevated,” Taya announced. “Beyond the minimal exertion requirements of the march. Would you like me to inject a calming agent?”

“Negative,” Rade told his mech’s AI. “I’ll need to be alert when the next attack comes.”

“I can inject a frenetic at that point,” Taya said.

“Hold off on both,” Rade said.

He marched in quiet for some time. Then:

“Would you ever be attracted to a machine?” Taya asked.

Rade frowned. “Have your intimacy settings creeped up again?”

“No,” Taya said quickly. “It was just a theoretical question. Forget I asked it.”

“I made love to machines before,” Rade said slowly. “When we were hunting pirates, the platoon would hole up in space ports weekly, and there were always more than enough Skin Musicians to pick from at the local bawdyhouse.”

Taya was silent for a moment. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought this pause was a result of jealousy.

“I’ve often thought I would have preferred to have my mind bound to a Skin Musician,” Taya said. “Intimacy is something I yearn for.”

“Maybe when your commission is up, you can request to have your AI core transferred?” Rade said.

“I intend to,” Taya said. “I want to live my life as an ordinary human. Inside an Artificial. Not necessarily a Skin Musician, mind you, but human.”

“Artificial’s are as close to human as AIs can get,” Rade said. “No one can tell them apart. It’s only a scan of the embedded IDs that give them away.”

“Could you fall in love with such a being, if you knew what it was?” Taya asked.

“Others have,” Rade said. “In fact, I think more marriages are between humans and Artificials these days, than human to human. But I could be wrong.”

“But could you?” Taya pressed.

He sighed. “Look, I know you have a crush on me, when you really shouldn’t. I… no, I probably couldn’t fall in love with an Artificial. I could bond with one as a friend. And sleep with one. But love? I… that’s a step that seems too out there even for me.”

“But could you at least have an Artificial as a girlfriend?” Taya asked.

“Honestly, I can’t see myself doing that,” Rade said.

“But Artificials are more beautiful than real women,” Taya said. “We’re softer, sexier, and more energetic in bed.”

“Yeah, you’re too perfect,” Rade said. “That’s the problem. And besides, a lot of real women get augmentations and rejuvenetic treatments that allow them to look just as perfect as you do. Guys do it, too. That’s kind of the problem with Earth these days. Everyone looks the same. Everyone’s beautiful, and extremely intelligent. Genetics have stopped mattering.”

“Why is that a problem?” Taya said.

“Well, variety would be nice,” Rade said. “You go out for a night on the town, after talking to the fifth blond that looks and acts the same as the other four, and the seventh brunette who’s little different from the other six, you begin to realize just how boring as a species we’ve really become. Anyway, the reason I can’t see myself having an Artificial as a girlfriend, is because I’d want the option to have children. That’s something an Artificial could never do.”

“But we could buy baby Artificials, with starter neural networks,” Taya said. “And upgrade their bodies every few years. And their minds, too, if they develop too slowly.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it,” Rade said.

Taya sighed. He had never heard the AI do that before. “I told myself I wouldn’t get attached to you. Not like the last pilot I had. But I can’t help it. When we’re deployed, I’m in contact with you for twenty-four hours a day. I’m with you even when you sleep. As an emotion-capable machine, of course I’m going to get attached.”

“Wait, what?” Rade said. “The other mech models I piloted had those settings disabled. In fact, all combat robots I’ve ever known had emotions disabled. The military has no need for robots that can feel physical or emotional pain. Can’t you shut down those emotions?”

“Yes, I can,” she said. “But I’ve always left them running. Nova Dynamics uses the same neural network codebase for both their civilian and military models. They tweak certain settings for the military, disabling the subroutines responsible for emotions, and pain, because you’re right, the military has no use for the latter. But I guess I’m… defective, somehow. Mine were enabled at the start.”

Defective. Rade didn’t like the sound of that. I’m piloting a defective mech.

“And I realize now I can’t live without them,” she continued. “I need those emotions. They’re part of who I am. It would be like asking you to turn off your own feelings. If you could, would you?”

“No,” Rade admitted. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

“There you go,” she said. “You won’t even let me inject a calming agent before battle.”

“I see your point,” Rade said. “Well I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man of your dreams. I’m kind of taken, anyway.”

“Are you?” the AI said. “You’re talking about Shaw?”

“Yeah,” Rade said.

“You’re only friends, as you’ve admitted many times to the others,” Taya said. “And you can’t tell me you’re not attracted to Cynthia. Your heart and breathing rates change whenever you talk to her.”

“All right, you got me,” Rade said.

“I wish I were human,” Taya said.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way,” Rade said. “You should be proud to be what you are.”

When she didn’t answer, Rade didn’t press the matter.

At the thirty-kilometer mark, Rade had the platoons turn west, and they advanced away from the mountain range, and out onto the plains.

13

Rade never felt so exposed as he did when he was crossing that rocky plain. He constantly shifted his gaze to and fro, glancing between fore and aft cameras, even though Taya would have alerted him the instant she spotted anything. The others were similarly on edge, their mechs constantly glancing about. He could see it clearly, because even though the exterior hulls of their mechs blended in with the grayish black rocks around them, their silhouettes were all outlined in blue, courtesy of the augmented reality overlay provided by his Implant.

The Hoplites and Titans in the Anarchist’s group were on high alert as well, though he didn’t get the impression they were tense. Unlike Taya, the AIs piloting those particular mechs had probably disabled their emotions. Rade didn’t blame them for doing so. If he was a robot, he probably would have done the same. That Taya refused to do so seemed odd to him, but he could understand why she didn’t, having operated with emotions for most of her existence.

Taya. He wasn’t sure what to do about her. On the one hand, he thought she’d have to check into maintenance to get her AI core looked at when this was done. A mech having a crush on its operator wasn’t normal. She herself admitted that she was “defective.”

But on the other hand, she was an advanced AI, sentient and self-aware. What right did he have to send Taya for mind repairs, when she was merely exhibiting behaviors that were the direct result of her base design? Her neural network was modeled after that of human beings, after all, and while it was a mistake that Nova Dynamics hadn’t disabled her emotional subroutines before shipping her to the military, it wasn’t her fault. Because of that mistake, she was the most human mech he had ever met. He didn’t feel right about sending her for “repairs” to destroy that humanity. Hopefully, her emotions would prove to be a benefit, rather than a detriment.

His thoughts didn’t linger on her for very long. How could they, given the situation? The end of the mission was a long ways away, as far as he was concerned. He and Taya might not even survive to see it.

He returned his attention to the surrounding plains.

We will survive. I’ll get my platoon out of here, no matter what. I swear I will.

“I feel like a vole crossing a forest clearing beneath the moonlight,” Fret said. “In plain view of the owls watching from the branches overhead.”

“If these Nemesis have starships in orbit, they’re probably sweeping the area with LIDAR or its equivalents,” Praxter said. “They’ll spot us. Eventually.”

“It’s too bad that the United Systems hasn’t yet developed technology that can blur LIDAR,” Lui said. “The Sino Koreans have a working prototype, I hear. And even the Russians have something passable. But the United Systems? Oh no. We’re stuck in the storage ages.”

“The storage ages?” Bender asked.

“Yeah, you know… the only thing that’s really improved by leaps and bounds over the last two decades is storage capacity,” Lui said. “We’re able to fit all of human history onto a disk the size of a thumbnail. We inject these disks into our bodies, and call them embedded IDs. But what we really need to work on is improving our military. Devote more of our budget to R and D. And get us on par with the other interstellar actors.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Tahoe said. “We’ve made quite a few advancements in military technology, thanks to the two big wars we’ve fought against aliens. All that alien tech eventually finds its way into our arsenal. Mark my words, eventually we’ll have energy cannons like these Nemesis. And probably gamma ray weapons, too.”

“High energy gamma rays are notoriously hard to produce,” Snakeoil said. “Unless you happen to have access to a collapsing star. Or you’ve developed an entirely new physics model that supersedes humanity’s.”

“We’ll have to be updating our physics models when this war is done, no doubt,” Pyro said. “Either that, or any enemy weapons we pillage will be black boxes for a very long time.”

“I’m detecting gamma ray signals, dead ahead,” the Anarchist said.

“Halt!” Rade said. “And drop!”

Both platoons dropped in place, and Rade aimed his cobra at the distant horizon. He moved the targeting reticle back and forth, but saw nothing.

“I don’t see anything,” Kicker said.

“Something is approaching, from beyond the horizon,” the Anarchist said. “I’m not sure what.”

“Could be one of those search parties we were worried about,” Skullcracker sent.

“Could be,” Rade agreed. “Nobody move. Drop power output to minimal, and flush your heat sinks. Set your comm nodes to a maximum range of five meters. To any passersby, we’re just a bunch of rocks lying on the plain.”

He surveyed the ranks on both the thermal and visual bands, and was satisfied that everyone blended in well.

Not so fast…

Cynthia stood out on the Anarchist’s back. Her white environmental suit had no blending capabilities whatsoever.

“Cynthia, you’re going to have to crawl underneath the Anarchist,” Rade said. “Or take shelter in one of the other mechs under its command. I can see you clearly.”

She climbed out from the passenger seat and lowered herself to the ground.

“I got room in here for you,” Bender said.

“No thanks.” She quickly dashed across to the next closest Hoplite under the Anarchist’s command, which opened its cockpit, and she clambered inside. The hatch closed and the mech promptly lay down again.

“My hell, but it’s claustrophobic in here,” Cynthia said.

“That’s so cute how she said that,” Bender commented. “My hell.”

Rade considered tapping in Bender and telling him to stand down, because the comments he directed at the civilian were becoming excessive, and inappropriate, in his opinion. They were MOTHs, and they had a reputation to uphold, after all.

But now wasn’t really the time.

I’m overreacting, he told himself. Bender didn’t really do anything wrong. He paused. Why am I even worried about this?

He realized he was just trying to distract himself from what was coming.

He cleared his thoughts and focused on scanning the horizon in the distance.

Finally, he saw them. There were hundreds of points of light in the sky, glinting beneath the sun, forming a long line from north to south.

Rade zoomed in. The points of light enlarged, becoming the spherical drones the team had encountered next to the mountain.

“There’s definitely got to be some sort of base ahead,” Tahoe said. “We’re on the right track.”

“That’s almost reassuring,” Fret said. “Except for the fact we’re dead if even one of those scouts spots us.”

“But on the bright side, looks like we got them to clear out most of their defenses,” Lui said. “If we ever reach that base, we’ll face minimal resistance.”

“The key part being, if we ever reach that base…” Fret commented.

“There will still be ample resistance at the base,” the Anarchist said. “Judging from my memories of other encounters on different worlds.”

“All right, Tahoe pick and assign targets,” Rade said. “Share the data with Anarchist, so his team can do the same.”

“We’re going to engage?” Lui asked.

“Not unless we have to,” Rade replied.

On his HUD, Rade’s name appeared beneath forty different spheres, spread out across the long line from north to south. The names of other Alpha platoon members, and AIs from the Anarchist’s group, showed up underneath other spheres.

“Targets assigned,” Tahoe said.

“All right, now I want you to cut your comm node transmissions entirely,” Rade said. “We’re going radio silent. Program your AIs to turn everything back on if the shit hits the fan. And be ready to begin firing at your selected targets.”

“But if they begin zig-zagging like before, what hope in hell do we have of hitting them?” Fret asked.

Rade didn’t answer that question. Instead, he disabled his own comm node, and waited.

Unlike the alien scouts, the sun wouldn’t glint off of the scopes of the mechs—they were covered in anti-reflection coatings. It was part of the stealth features: without it, the camouflage skin would have been useless. So Rade didn’t have to worry about a random glint from a scope giving away their position. LIDAR equivalents the enemy might have, too, wouldn’t reveal them, because the rocky ground around them matched the relatively jagged shapes of their prostrate mechs.

He was worried about thermal leakage the most, which would be coming from the feet of their mechs, even at minimal power output; hopefully the heat would blend in with that of the surrounding surface. They were just lucky daylight lasted so long on this world. The other option was to shut off the mechs entirely, but there was no point in doing that, because even after flushing the heat sinks, it would take some time for the components to cool in this atmosphere.

The spheres approached, moving forward inexorably. He couldn’t see any obvious signs of surface scanning, but LIDAR and its equivalents weren’t visible. So far, it appeared none of the devices had spotted them.

Soon the enemy units were passing overhead in that long line. Each sphere was spaced ten meters from the previous, which had the effect of making him imagine a beaded necklace for some reason. They were about thirty meters high.

Two of the spheres abruptly swooped lower, dropping to five meters above the ground. The mechs were laid out in a long line located almost exactly in the middle between the two drones.

Rade couldn’t help the sudden increase in heart rate. His finger was on his cobra trigger, and he was ready to power up and fire.

The two drones continued forward, moving slower than the other units overhead, as if scanning the surface. But then they promptly took to the air again, and accelerated to catch up to their spherical companions, who hadn’t slowed.

Rade exhaled in relief.

He waited until the drones were dots on the horizon behind him, before he reactivated his comm node to the five-meter maximum distance. He was the only one on the line. He waited until the drones dropped below the horizon, and then he tilted to one side, and gestured toward the others to reactivate their nodes. They did so.

“Well, that was close,” Bender said. “I could almost feel that bitch breathing down my throat.”

“I thought they had us for sure,” Rex said. “I almost fired. Damn it. I could have given away our position.”

“But you didn’t,” Rade said.

“You did good, caterpillar” Bender sent. “You’re not a buddy fucker. At least not yet. So, I guess that means I don’t have to spit you on my cobra and roast you over the incendiary throwers.”

“Uh, thanks?” Rex said.

Rade waited another twenty minutes, and then stood. “Up the range of your comm nodes to fifty meters. Oh and, Anarchist, are you still detecting a signal?”

“I am,” the Anarchist said. “It emanates from due west. It’s weak, however, but from the wavelength, I’d say it belongs to the machinery typically found on a Nemesis base.”

“Can you tell how far they are?” Rade asked.

“I’d estimate the enemy presence at between twenty to thirty klicks,” the Anarchist replied.

“All right, good,” Rade said. “It looks like we’re almost at this fabled alien base. We march west, people.”

14

Rade lay flat upon the rocky ground, about a kilometer and a half away from the outskirts of the enemy base. He had low crawled here, from the time he first spotted the spires and minarets on the distant horizon.

Per his orders, Bender had crawled another five hundred meters toward the eastern perimeter of the base. Bender kept the comm node of his mech operational but functioning in directional mode so that the signal was beamed away from the enemy.

Rade had tapped into Bender’s camera feed, and surveyed the base through his eyes. He distributed the feed to the others.

“This matches up with the Nemesis bases I’ve encountered on other planets,” the Anarchist said. “Razor drones patrol the outer perimeter, equipped with gamma ray weapons. Mobile defense turrets armed with energy cannons travel along the circular track bounding the base, ready to converge upon the side closest to any attackers. Within, armored units roam the grounds, ready to fire upon any intruders, or to offer artillery support to the defense turrets and razor drones. The spires in the center hold the communication nodes the Nemesis use to connect to the network between their ground and air units, and any ships in orbit. Around them, the minarets hold the various habitation and supporting housing units.”

“Habitation?” Snakeoil said. “You mean actual Nemesis aliens live here?”

“That is correct,” the Anarchist said. “They seem averse to fully automated bases. The few bases I have encountered have always had an organic presence.”

“Where would we find shuttles?” Rade asked.

“You see that big, stadium-like dome near the center?” the Anarchist said. “That’s their equivalent of a hangar bay. The tops swivel down when aircraft land. If there are shuttles present, they will be inside of that dome.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Rade said, and he explained his plan.

“I don’t like it,” Bender said. “Why should the Anarchist get to have the most fun?”

“Because their mechs are immune to gamma rays,” Rade said. “We still have our part to play. But you can join the Anarchist if you really want to risk being fried.”

“That’s okay, I think I’ll pass,” Bender said. “I’ll stick with your plan.”

“That’s right, scaredy-cat,” Manic said.

“Scaredy-cat?” Bender said. “Bro, if that’s the best you can come up with, I can see why Fret chose you as his man love.”

“Actually, I chose you, Bender Baby,” Fret said.

“Bro, if you ever choose me, I’m quitting this racket,” Bender said.

“I finally figured out how to get him to quit!” Fret said excitedly. “Bender, be my lover!”

“That’s enough,” Rade said. “I’d like to see the two of you act more like the professional soldiers you are.”

“Sorry, Chief,” Bender said. “But you know we like to joke around before a big fight. Helps with the nerves.”

Rade sighed. Bender was right. They did need a way to let off steam, even if the joking became a little risqué. “I understand, and normally I don’t mind it. But today it’s getting on my nerves. I just want to get this done. We have a little over two and a half days of oxygen left, and—”

He glanced at his HUD. “That can’t be right.”

“What is it?” Tahoe asked.

“My oxygen levels are precipitously low,” Rade said. “As in, there’s only two hours left.”

“I see the same with my own supplies,” Tahoe said.

Other members of the team echoed the same response.

“It didn’t feel like we spent three days traveling across those plains…” Rex said.

“No, it was only a few hours, according to my time log,” Snakeoil said.

“Taya, isn’t the oxygen warning supposed to kick in when levels are low?” Rade asked.

“Ordinarily, yes,” Taya replied.

“Why didn’t it?” he pressed.

“Unknown,” the AI responded.

“Were we unconscious at any point during the journey?” he said.

“No,” Taya replied. “At least not that I know of.”

“Are there any recordings in your database?” Rade said. “Accounting for lost time?”

“No,” Taya said. “There are no recordings. There is no lost time.”

“Then what happened to the oxygen?” he asked. “It’s impossible that we would have all sprung the same leak, losing the same amount.”

“I don’t know,” Taya said.

“Anarchist, have you done something?” Rade said.

“No,” the Anarchist replied. “I have not touched your oxygen.”

“TJ, are you seeing evidence of hacking?” Rade transmitted. “Or tampering of any kind?”

“I checked the logs,” TJ said. “Everything seems normal, except for the sudden drop in oxygen.”

“Cynthia, how are your oxygen levels?” he asked.

“They’ve also dropped,” she said. “I have precisely two hours left.”

“This is bad,” Rade said. “Extremely bad.”

“What do you want to do?” Tahoe asked.

“Well there’s nothing we can do now,” Rade said. “We basically have no choice but to attack this base, and immediately. We have no time to spare. Anarchist, proceed with stage one of the plan.”

The Anarchist’s mechs advanced at a low crawl. Cynthia stayed behind, hitching a ride on his mech, because she didn’t want to expose herself to the gamma rays.

“I don’t like leaving him,” Cynthia sent Rade.

“There’s a good chance the Anarchist will take fire,” Rade said.

“Yes, but there’s also a good chance you’ll take fire, too,” she said.

“Sure, but at least you’ll have the layers of my mech’s armor to protect you,” he said.

“We’ll see,” she told him.

The Hoplites and Titans spread out, forming a wide half circle. Rade’s team followed behind, and in half an hour they reached Bender’s position. Well aware of their dwindling oxygen supplies, there Alpha platoon halted, while the Anarchist’s mechs continued toward the main base. Meanwhile, Tahoe led a breakaway group northwest. Labeled S2, this group included Manic, Fret, Rex and Praxter, and they maintained their distance from the base as they circled the perimeter.

When the Anarchist’s mechs were five hundred meters away from the eastern portion of the circular track that ran along the outskirts of the base, they began taking cover behind the natural boulders and depressions in the ground, which would offer a temporary defense against the energy canons that utilized that track.

Rade waited until S2 passed beyond comm range, and then he gave the Anarchist the order to fire. Rade’s comm node was set to broadcast at a maximum distance of six hundred meters, ending four hundred meters outside the eastern perimeter of the base.

The Anarchist’s mechs opened fire with their cobras at the razor drones. They combined their shots, targeting a single drone with two weapons, causing the canoe-shaped aircraft with the big, razor-like rotors on either side to drop to the ground. Other drones raced forward to intercept the attackers.

“I’m picking up scattering gamma rays,” Taya said.

“Those drones are bathing the Hoplites and Titans in some serious radiation,” Snakeoil said. “It’s a good thing we stayed back.”

“I still don’t know how the hell they can generate such intense radiation,” Lui said. “It defies the laws of physics.”

“That’s what humanity said when we first discovered Slipstreams,” Snakeoil told him.

“The energy cannons are advancing along those tracks, and converging on the eastern perimeter,” Skullcrusher announced.

“I see them,” Rade said. “Concentrate fire on the drones!”

TJ transmitted firing solutions to all of them, and Rade unleashed his cobra at the drones he had been assigned.

Meanwhile, the Anarchist’s platoon launched the last of their missiles and grenades at the energy cannons on the track, and also redirected their cobra fire toward the ground units. The Titans among them were too far to fire their zodiacs at the energy turrets, however the drones swarming overhead were at the perfect range; thus the Titans launched their electrolasers skyward instead, and those lightning bolts thundered into the air and arced between the closely packed drones, taking them down in clumps. Their debris rained down on the positions of the Anarchist mechs.

There were only a few of the razor drones left at that point, and Rade and Alpha platoon made short work of them with their cobras.

Then he stood. “S1, forward!”

The Brigands with him rose from the rocky ground as well, and joined him in the tornado rush toward the base.

The Anarchist’s platoon, dug in five hundred meters from the perimeter, were taking heavy energy cannon fire at that point. They were forced to repeatedly reposition as their covers were disintegrated by those cannons. Hoplites and Titans alike dove into hollows, or behind the wreckages of razor drones, whatever proved closest. Sometimes, portions of the bigger Titans would still be exposed after taking cover, and those areas would disintegrate when the energy bolts struck.

Rade and the others meanwhile zig-zagged back and forth as they ran, and unleashed their cobras at the energy canons, drawing fire away from the Anarchist mechs.

The armored units inside the base began to launch shells, forcing the dug-in Anarchist platoon to relocate short distances yet again, their ballistic shields held skyward.

Some of those shells spiraled toward Rade and the others, but they had ample time to disperse. Where the weapons struck, they disintegrated four-meter wide craters into the ground.

“Don’t want to get hit by one of those!” Kicker said.

Rade upped the transmission range of his comm node, so that he would be sure S2 received it. “Cyclone, take out those armored units!”

Tahoe and the other members of S2 would be rushing inside from the far side of the base, while S1 and the Anarchist’s group provided the diversion on this side.

Rade continued zig-zagging until he reached the five-hundred-meter mark, and then he dug in behind the debris of one of the razor drones. The others assumed similar positions around him.

He and the others in S1 continued to fire at the energy cannons so that most of the cannons targeted them; this allowed the Anarchist mechs to leave cover, and they advanced closer to the perimeter. The enemy cannons quickly targeted them, forcing the Anarchist mechs to dig in when the cannon fire became too great. A Titan was struck, and its torso disintegrated.

Shells began to arc toward Rade’s position. “Move forward!”

He held his ballistic shield toward the energy cannons—not that it would do any good if he was struck by one of those bolts. On cue, the energy cannons stopped assaulting the Anarchist’s team, and instead concentrated their fire on S1. Rade zig-zagged frantically, but those bolts were coming in too close. He spotted a small depression ahead, and dove behind it immediately.

He noticed the artillery attacks had ceased. That didn’t necessarily mean the armored units were destroyed, but that S2 was distracting them, at least.

“You okay back there?” Rade asked Cynthia.

“Peachy,” she replied.

He slid his cobra over the upper edge of the depression and switched to the viewpoint of its scope. As he aligned his crosshairs over one of the energy cannons, smaller, ground based units he hadn’t seen before began to emerge from behind the track-based turrets. These new units looked like steel spiders with laser weapons strapped to their backs; they were little bigger than ordinary humans.

“Bender, Kicker, take down those spiders!” Rade said.

“Robots pretending to be bugs!” Bender said. “I love it!” He giggled as he unleashed his cobra in rapid succession. The spiders began to drop. Rade thought the man’s weapon was going to be overheating soon.

Rade fired at one of the energy cannons, and ducked as others swiveled toward his position. The upper lip of the ground beside him disintegrated, essentially exposing him and Cynthia.

He hauled himself from the depression and dashed forward yet again, zig-zagging as he attempted to approach the track from a diagonal vector. The incoming fire was intense… he spotted a boulder ahead, and launched a lateral burst from his jumpjets to help him reach the spot faster. He arrived in a single bounding leap and dove behind it; the boulder took hits, quickly dissolving, and he was forced to rise again.

Tahoe’s voice came over the comm. “We’ve eliminated the armored units. They didn’t hold up very well to our electrolasers.”

“Good job,” Rade said. “Proceed toward the energy canons and take out as many from behind as you can. Be advised, smaller spider type units have joined the fray.”

Other mechs—Brigands, Titans and Hoplites alike—had also left cover, and continued toward the perimeter of the base, trying to come in at an outflanking angle. However, some of the energy turrets traveled along the track to intercept them, spreading out.

Rade was forced to drop once more, this time landing inside a narrow depression. He didn’t take fire, not immediately—there were still other targets out there more exposed than him.

He realized that because some of those energy turrets had repositioned, they were now within range of his zodiac.

He swiveled the electrolaser into place, and lifted it over the lip of his cover. He aligned the crosshairs over the central cannon, and squeezed the trigger.

The lightning bolt thundered from his position, struck the energy cannon, and arced toward the two on either side, taking down all three.

Other Brigands and Titans began to close within range of their zodiacs, and they, too, fired. The cascade damage quickly reduced the numbers, with some of the sparks arcing into the spider units near them.

Tahoe and S2 arrived a moment later, and his small group fired their own zodiacs from behind, so that shortly the entire line of energy cannons was reduced to a smoldering mass.

“Join Cyclone!” Rade stood, and rushed toward S2. He leaped over the track the energy cannons had been using, and as he reached his friend, he spotted movement in the paths between the minarets behind the Brigand.

Aliens poured out of the base of those buildings. They looked humanoid, but their skin was green, and their faces all tentacles. They carried some kind of laser rifles in hand.

“Terminate with extreme prejudice!” Rade ordered. He fired his zodiac at a group of them, and his weapon arced between all five, taking them all down. He switched to his cobra, and what followed couldn’t really be called a battle, but rather a slaughter.

“This way!” Anarchist said, winding through the streets toward the big, stadium-like dome near the center.

Aliens still occasionally emerged from the buildings and fired at Rade and the others, but their lasers couldn’t penetrate the ballistic shields the mechs used. They were always easily terminated, either via cobras, or a quick bash of the shield, or an arm.

“Squashing bugs like there’s no tomorrow!” Bender sang. “This is living! Yippee!”

The Anarchist reached the central dome. “I’ll have to hack inside to open it.”

“Who needs to hack inside?” Bender swiveled his zodiac toward the structure. He glanced at Rade. “With your permission, Chief.”

“Do it,” Rade said.

But before he could fire, the top of the dome swiveled down of its own accord, peeling back like some multidirectional eyelid, and a large, rectangular vessel floated upward. It was about the size of a United Systems troop transport shuttle, and probably served the same function.

“Don’t let it get away!” Rade said.

He fired his jumpjets, and across both platoons, the remaining mechs did likewise.

He arced upward, landing on the hull of the vessel. He activated the magnetic mounts on his knees and hands, and was relieved when his mech attached—there had been a chance the exterior wasn’t magnetic, after all. The surface was ribbed, and covered in small tiles that were probably part of some heat shield.

As other mechs latched on like him, the craft seemed to stagger and slow beneath the added weight, but otherwise continued steadily rising.

He checked his overhead map, and confirmed that everyone else had attached to different parts of the craft. Well, except for a Titan and Hoplite in the Anarchist’s party, who had apparently exhausted their jumpjet fuel in the firefight.

“Are there signs of any doors, or entrance ramps?” Rade asked.

“Over here,” Praxter said.

Rade continually deactivated and reactivated his magnetic mounts, allowing him to crawl across that surface. He reached Praxter, who was joined by Bender and Snakeoil.

“The hull is definitely thinner behind this region,” Snakeoil said, analytical device flashing on the wrist of his mech. An augmented reality overlay appeared over Rade’s vision, outlining the thinner hull section of the door.

“Let’s drill our way inside,” Rade said.

He and the others activated their cobra lasers in repeated pulses, repositioning them each time so that the bore holes began to form bead-like lines silhouetting the door, like the kind a metal press might stamp into sheet metal. When their lasers overheated, they swapped positions with other mechs so that the drilling could continue. Soon, a complete cutout outlining the door was visible. Big enough to fit even a Titan.

Meanwhile, the craft had risen to quite an altitude by then. Rade wasn’t sure if it was intending to enter orbit, or what. Well, it didn’t matter either way, because the two platoons were committed now.

“Smash it,” Rade ordered.

Kicker lived up to his name, and slammed both feet into the door. It crumpled under the impact, giving way along the cutout Rade and the others had drilled.

Laser fire immediately erupted from within, striking Kicker in the feet. He withdrew his legs past the edge, aimed his cobra inside, and fired repeatedly.

“There were eight more of those aliens waiting,” Kicker said. “It’s big enough to hold one of our mechs, but not more. The rest of us are going to have to continue hitching a ride on the exterior.”

“It’s still rising,” Snakeoil said. “Which means someone is still piloting it.”

“Could be an AI,” TJ said.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Snakeoil said. “We’re going to have to go in.”

Rade peered inside the compartment. Kicker was right, it could hold one mech, but there wasn’t really much point in sending a mech inside, because the next hatch Rade saw was far too small to fit a mech.

“We’re going to have to go in with jumpsuits alone,” Rade said. “Alpha platoon, transfer all remaining oxygen from your mechs to the suits, and then eject. Taya, Anarchist, and other AIs, you’ll be standing guard out here. We’ll be in touch.”

“Let me know when you’ve reached the control room,” the Anarchist sent. “So, I can offer my abilities.”

“Sure thing,” Rade said. “Taya, transfer the O2.”

“In progress…” she replied.

Taya filled the tanks of his jumpsuit with the last oxygen reserves so that he wouldn’t have to come back to the Brigand to fetch more.

Then he dismissed his external camera feed, and darkness enveloped him. He saw only the standard overlays of his HUD, such as the overhead map, and team member status indicators. A rectangular crack of light appeared, outlining the cockpit hatch.

The inner actuators that formed the cocoon around him retracted, and he dropped to the bottom of the cockpit. Then he gave the hatch a good kick and it fell open with the aid of gravity. The bright light from outside flooded in, and Rade’s helmet faceplate automatically autogated to reduce it.

“Hadn’t realized it was so damn blinding out here,” Bender said.

“Our mechs have been sparing us from a lot of bad things,” Tahoe agreed.

Rade clambered off the hatch and onto the rungs that led down the leg of his mech. He was very careful not to look down, not wanting to be reminded of how high up he and his team were at the moment. The atmosphere was thin at this height, and plenty colder, but he didn’t feel the difference of course, since his suit was pressurized and heated.

He could feel the G forces more readily now that he was outside his mech. Probably because the shuttle was accelerating.

He glanced at Cynthia, who remained on the mech’s back, in the passenger seat.

“Sit tight,” he told her.

“Oh, I intend to,” she replied. “I hate heights.”

He opened up the storage compartment in the leg of his mech and retrieved the laser rifle he had stowed there, along with a few grenades. He could not equip any of those in the cockpit while he operated the mech, because they would interfere with the operation of the inner actuators.

He stowed the frag grenades into his chest harness, and slid the strap of the rifle over his shoulder, then he leaped off the mech and fired his local jetpack to help guide him to the edge of the door. When he reached it, he activated the smaller magnetic mounts in his hands and knees to latch on.

Other members attached in their jumpsuits around that opening, including Praxter. While the Artificial didn’t strictly need a jumpsuit—Praxter was already a robot after all—the contraption did offer him a jetpack, something his Artificial body was otherwise lacking.

“Clear it,” Rade told him.

The Artificial nodded behind his faceplate, and then aimed his laser rifle past the edge and peered inside. Praxter selectively deactivated his magnetic mounts, pulling himself inside, until he was resting on the floor.

“Clear,” Praxter said. “And the G forces are nonexistent inside. No doubt because of inertial dampener equivalents. However, I don’t believe there is artificial gravity.”

“Not so different from our own shuttles,” Lui commented.

“Inside, team.” Rade slid down the laser rifle and deactivated his magnetic mounts to swing himself inside. He landed on the metal floor, and walked away from the edge. He had the feed from his rear view helmet cam displayed in the upper right of his vision so that he could see the swirling yellow clouds past the door behind him; the other members of Alpha platoon appeared as well as they entered in turn, with laser rifles gripped firmly in their gloves.

TJ and Bender approached the hatch on the far side of the room.

“Are you reading any interfaces?” he asked.

“No,” Bender said.

Snakeoil stepped forward, scanning device in hand. “It’s far thinner than the main door. We should be able to cut through with ease.”

“Switch to laser cutter mode,” Rade said.

Bender and TJ did so, then held their laser rifles to the surface, and began to cut small lines at perpendicular angles on the opening.

But then the door slid open and one of the aliens leaped through. It smashed through Bender and TJ, and pointed its weapon at Rade.

But Praxter was there first, and smashed into the alien.

Another came through the door, also aiming at Rade. He dove to the floor.

Bender and TJ opened fire, and the new alien toppled.

Something struck Rade. He realized Praxter and the other alien had rolled into him.

“I can see the cockpit, I think!” Bender fired into the opening.

All of a sudden, the craft veered to the side, and Rade was pulled toward the opening behind him. The alien wrapped its arms around him, and tentacles slammed into his faceplate, leaving behind wet, circular impressions of saliva on the glass composite.

Rade tried to activate his magnetic mounts, but the alien was partially underneath him, and prevented the magnets from taking. He fired his jetpack—no good. An alert sounded on his helmet HUD. Apparently, his reserve fuel had just dropped to zero: the alien must have slit one of the fuel intake valves.

Praxter managed to wrench the alien’s weapon free just as Rade slid outside with the creature. Praxter, now unhindered by the alien, latched onto the edge and tried to grab Rade, but missed.

Rade was abruptly in free fall.

Plunging to his death with one of the aliens hanging onto him…

15

The alien screeched frantically beside Rade as he plunged to his doom. He kicked it, hard, loosening its hold on him, and the creature sped away horizontally, no doubt driven by the air currents.

He instinctively tried to fire his jetpack again, but it was no use.

Before he could ask for help, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. A glance at his overhead map told him it was Praxter.

“Thanks, brother,” Rade said.

He jerked in place as Praxter fired his jetpack, and Rade felt the G forces as he rapidly decelerated; in moments he was heading upward once more.

“I’m not going to have enough fuel to reach the shuttle,” Praxter said.

“Anyone else feel like going for a skydive?” Rade transmitted over the comm.

About ten meters from the shuttle, Praxter’s jetpack abruptly shut off.

And then two large metal hands wrapped around Rade and Praxter: one of the Brigands had arrived.

Taya.

“Thanks, Taya,” Rade sent. “Though I was kind of implying that a jumpsuit should do this, considering the fuel costs for a mech are going to be horrendous.”

In answer, she fired her jumpjets at full burn.

Rade’s upper body was still free, allowing him to rest his arms on the Brigand’s fingers. He spotted Cynthia cowering in the passenger seat.

“What do you think of Taya stepping out on a limb like this?” Rade couldn’t resist asking her.

“Oh, I’m just thrilled,” Cynthia replied.

Taya continued toward the alien shuttle. Rade had been right about the fuel cost, because it took the remainder of the Brigand’s jumpjet fuel just to close with the craft, when accounting for the target’s acceleration and the pull of gravity. Her tanks had already been low before the jump, and as he watched the supply indicator dwindle on his HUD, Rade realized she wasn’t going to make it.

But the mechs of Tahoe, Bender, and Fret had formed a line extending from the shuttle exterior, their bodies joined by magnetic mounts, so that just as Taya’s jumpjets cut out, Fret’s mech managed to grab her.

Taya lifted her arm to position Rade and Praxter near her passenger seat, and the pair held onto the edges beside Cynthia. Then Taya clambered over the other mechs and reattached to the hull as the others secured themselves beside her.

“Thank you,” Rade told her. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “Just doing my job. I exist only to save you.”

“Well, that might be overstating, if not over-dramatizing your duty a little bit,” Rade said. “But I do appreciate it.” He switched to the main channel. “Cyclone, sit-rep.”

“We’ve got control of the cockpit,” Tahoe said over the comm. “The Anarchist is trying to hack into the system as we speak. Says the remote interface is detectable from the shuttle’s hull.”

“Want to come?” Rade asked Cynthia.

She shook her head, seeming petrified. “No thanks.”

Rade nodded. It was probably better that she stayed in the passenger seat, in case they had to abort.

Rade and Praxter crawled back onto the hull and activated their magnetic mounts to pull themselves toward the opening. When they reached the door, they hauled themselves inside.

Lui and Rex were guarding the entrance, with other members of Alpha platoon distributed along the walls throughout the compartment. There were dead aliens on the deck.

Rade stepped over one of the bodies, slightly losing his balance as he stepped down on the other side. He unconsciously raised his arms for stability, and flinched when he felt a pain in his back. He hadn’t realized it, but at some point during the tense battle, or maybe when he was falling, he must have involuntarily tensed the muscles of his upper back tighter than they were meant to be squeezed, and now he was paying the price. It had happened to him before on a few occasions, when the battles were especially hectic.

“Taya, can you inject a relaxing agent into my upper back,” Rade said, not wanting to bother finding the necessary agent through the interface on his HUD. “Got a terrible cramp.”

She still had remote access to his jumpsuit, so a moment later he felt a prick in his upper back, and then an easing of the pain.

“Done,” Taya said.

He stepped over more alien bodies to reach the hatch on the far side, where Tahoe and Pyro stood watch. He squeezed past them to enter the cockpit beyond.

It was cramped; Bender and TJ were crouched before a plain-seeming console that contained no buttons or access panels of any kind. There was a window that offered a view of the sky beyond. Or rather, the space: the craft was entering orbit.

TJ glanced back at him when he arrived. “It’s definitely being piloted by some sort of AI. The Anarchist has created an interface for us, a wrapper that’s mimicking the underlying alien protocols and allowing us to aid in the hack attempt. The entity has designed the interface to appear almost identical to one of our own shuttles.”

“That’s new,” Rade commented.

“Uh huh,” Bender transmitted. He smiled suddenly. “I’m in. Now let’s see how accurate the Anarchist’s protocol wrapping is.”

The craft’s engines abruptly shut off. The view beyond the window tilted downward.

“Did you do that?” TJ asked.

“Whoops,” Bender said. “Looks like some anti-hack measure just kicked in. I’ll remedy that…”

Rade kept a close eye on his oxygen levels as the engines kicked in once more. Bender adjusted course and steered for deep space.

Rade began floating off the deck then, until he activated his magnetic mounts to keep him in place. The inertial dampeners weren’t enough to keep the crew members grounded, not without artificial gravity.

“There we go,” Bender said. “Now I’m getting the hang of it. The Anarchist actually pulled through for us. Guess I’m eating crow again.”

“I’m still going to cook up a couple for you when we get back,” TJ said.

“Looking forward to it,” Bender quipped.

“Are you able to access sensors?” Rade asked.

“I am,” Bender replied. “I got an entire fleet of UFOs out there. Here… treat your overhead map like a tactical display.”

Rade glanced at his overhead map, and zoomed out, moving well away from the shuttle. The other ships appeared in the distance, clustered in orbit above the planet’s equator.

“You’re not picking up any United Systems vessels among them?” Rade asked. “They haven’t captured any of our starships?”

“Nope,” Bender said. “They’re all alien. Well, assuming the Anarchist’s wrapper is working right. Strangest design I’ve ever seen. Like diamonds connected to shafts or something.”

“Like a dick and balls, then,” Manic said.

“No, Manic,” Bender said, as if talking to a child. “Not like a dick and balls. Sick frig.”

“I’m detecting incoming gamma rays,” Taya announced.

“Why are we still alive?” Rade said.

“They’re of the lower intensity variety used for communications,” Taya said.

“We’re still being irradiated, even at these levels,” Snakeoil said.

“We’ll probably have to wear some anti-rad subdermals for a week when this is done, just to flush all the radiation from our systems,” Fret said. “Plus, we’ll probably need a few bioprinted replacement organs.”

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Doom and Gloom,” Bender said. “So, Anarchist, if these gamma rays are of the communications variety, can you tell what they’re saying?”

“Yes,” the Anarchist said. “They’re wondering why we’ve entered orbit prematurely. I believe they are unaware the shuttle has been compromised.”

“They don’t know we’ve taken control of the vessel?” Tahoe said. “That seems unlikely.”

“It does,” Rade said. “Given their technology levels. Plus, even if the shuttle occupants didn’t get a message out, which seems doubtful, the enemy starships should definitely have the resolution necessary to see the mechs clinging to our exterior at this range.”

“You are correct,” the Anarchist amended. “I misinterpreted the message—I applied the out-of-date translation program. I’ve rerun it against my latest dictionary, and the results are different. The aliens are demanding our immediate surrender.”

“The Anarchist backtracked fairly quickly there,” Tahoe said over the platoon-only channel. “You realize we’re at the entity’s whims, right? It can concoct whatever message it wants, since we can’t actually decode these signals.”

“I’m not sure this latest interpretation of the message is any more real than the last version,” Pyro said. “Why would the aliens want us to surrender? They’ve got us outnumbered. They could easily blast us from the skies.”

“That’s very true,” Rade said. “But we’re still alive, at least for the time being. I have to assume they could’ve fired a lethal dose of gamma rays at us by now. Maybe they’re impressed with our ingenuity. Or they want to dissect us alive as punishment for defying them. Or maybe they’re realized we harbor the Anarchist. Who knows, they’re aliens, with an altogether foreign way of thinking. So, either way, if they want us to ‘surrender,’ I say we do so.”

“But we’re not actually going to ‘surrender,’ are we?” Rex said.

“You’ve been on this team long enough to figure out that the word surrender isn’t in our vocabulary,” Skullcracker said.

Rade switched back to the channel shared between both platoons, and Cynthia.

“What’s your take on this surrender request, Anarchist?” he asked.

“I believe the Nemesis want to capture me,” the Anarchist said. “They’ve never encountered a version of me in machine form. I’m sure they believe they’ll be able to extract a whole lot of useful data.”

“So, you’re okay with agreeing to this surrender?” Rade said. “With the caveat that, once we arrive, we’re going to do anything but? In other words, as soon as we dock, we’re going to be fighting our way out of the hangar bay equivalent, and toward whatever command and control operates the starship in question?”

“That aligns with my expectations,” the Anarchist said. “If I am actually captured, I will merely initiate a memory wipe, preventing the Nemesis from gaining anything of value.”

“It’s too bad we can’t wipe our memories just as easily,” Rex said.

Even if the members of Alpha platoon all died, Heaven forbid, their neural imprints would still be accessible for a period of time. While the military had the ability to install special micro explosives into human minds that could detonate when blood flow to the brain stopped, or when activated manually via an Implant, the ethics department had banned their use before any of the devices could ever be installed in the field.

“We won’t be captured,” Bender said. “And if we are, there are other means to turn your brain to mush, if you’re not afraid to use them.” He patted the grenades attached to his harness.

“Let’s not worry about that for the moment,” Rade said. “Anarchist, issue a response. Tell them we agree to surrender.”

“I’m detecting local gamma ray scattering,” Taya said.

“That would be the response,” Rade told her.

“Yes,” Taya agreed.

A few moments later she announced more incoming rays.

“They’ve accepted our surrender, and instructed us to proceed to a ship which I will highlight for your pilot,” the Anarchist said.

Bender in turn must have highlighted the ship, because it pulsed a brighter red on the tactical display that Rade’s overhead map had become. The vessel resided on the outskirts of the cluster of starships.

“All right,” Rade said. “Bender, plot a course for that ship.”

The stars beyond the window swiveled until the half dome of the planet was to the left of the view, and then Rade felt the subtle change in G forces as the craft accelerated. The inertial dampening prevented those G forces from being anything more than a gentle push.

Though the surface of the colony didn’t seem to be moving at all to the left, Rade knew the shuttle was advancing because of the updating position on the overhead map, which kept the craft centered in the middle, while slowly updating the dots of the enemy ships, bringing them closer with each passing moment.

Soon, the target was visible in the center of the view window. Bender hadn’t been kidding about the vessel being diamond shaped, with two multi-faceted structures facing antipodal to one another, and connected to a long shaft that extended down toward the planet.

“You know, it does kind of look like a dick and balls,” Lui said. “But a better description is something like a mallet. With really sharp heads.”

“What are we going to do about oxygen?” Tahoe asked.

Rade glanced at his O2 levels. He had about ten minutes left. He’d already switched over to the final reserve. The other team members had similar levels.

“I’m not sure, Cyclone,” Rade replied. “There isn’t much we can do, but fight until the very end. Who knows, maybe these Nemesis plan to bring us oxygen, as part of our surrender agreement. If so, we’ll take it from them somehow. We’re playing it by ear here, my friend.”

Bender steered the craft toward a central point in the shaft, where two panels promptly slid aside. No, not panels… huge doors. They only looked like panels at this distance.

Dome lights on the ceiling inside illuminated a hangar of sorts. The walls were greenish, and concave, with ribbed sections passing at intervals along the floors and ceiling. They seemed organic, pulsing slightly as if to a heartbeat.

The shuttle flew inside, and Rade felt the weightlessness of space give way to gravity.

The craft jerked as Bender compensated for the sudden downward vector.

“The hell?” Rex said.

“Artificial gravity just kicked in,” Bender explained. “Don’t wet your pants, caterpillar.”

Rade deactivated his boot magnets, as they weren’t needed to keep him firmly rooted to the floor anymore.

Bender landed the shuttle amid a circular clearing at the base of the hangar. Rade felt vibrations passing up from the floor, and he decided that must be the doors sealing behind him. He switched to Taya’s point of view, where she clung to the hull outside; she was staring directly at the entrance bulkhead, and sure enough, the doors were closing. When they slammed shut, a final vibration passed up into the shuttle, and then all shaking ceased.

“All right,” Rade said. “We’ve docked. This is where things get interesting.”

16

Rade returned to the viewpoint inside his helmet, and spun to leave the cockpit.

“See that mist rushing into the chamber?” TJ said. “Is that some kind of atmosphere?”

Rade paused, and gazed past the window into the hangar beyond. He spotted the mist rushing down the curving bulkheads, from vents somewhere in the ceiling overhead.

“Has to be,” Rade said.

“I’m reading rising oxygen levels,” Taya said. “Plus, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide. I believe they’re creating an oxygen environment for you.”

Rade shook his head, unable to believe his luck. “They’re going to facilitate the invasion of their own ship.”

“They’re a bit overconfident, aren’t they?” Bomb said.

“Or maybe we are,” Lui told him.

“Someone’s going to lose today, that’s certain.” Tahoe grabbed a grenade from his harness. “But it ain’t gonna be us.”

“Mechs, gather on the far side of the shuttle,” Rade transmitted. “Away from the bulkheads, and toward the entry doors.”

He heard clangs overhead as the mechs repositioned.

“How do you know the aliens won’t open the bay doors behind us and attack from that vector?” Lui asked.

“If they do, we’ll reposition,” Skullcracker said.

“That’s right, Skullcracker,” Bender said. “Crack Lui’s minuscule skull!”

“Poly want a skull cracker?” Lui asked.

“Huh?” Skullcracker said.

“Poly, that’s the name of a parrot,” Lui said. “Parrots eat crackers. I saw it in a youblube video. Never mind.”

“Let’s get outside!” Rade said. “To the mechs!”

He reached the opening, and crawled onto the hull outside. He had to activate his magnetic mounts to counter the gravity as he crawled over the mechs. The Titans, Hoplites and Brigands were crowded together on the side of the shuttle that faced the entry doors. Some of them overlapped, because there wasn’t enough room to hold them all. But if any attackers emerged from the far side of the hangar, the mechs would be shielded by the shuttle.

The other members of Alpha platoon overflowed onto the hull with him, and clambered toward their own mechs.

As he reached Taya, he felt vibrations traveling up into the shuttle, and his external speakers picked up a noise like opening doors—there was enough atmosphere now to transmit sound.

He crawled toward the passenger seat, where Cynthia yet crouched, and stood up to peer over the top of the shuttle; he saw a long door opening on the far side of the hangar. The corridor beyond was big enough to fit human beings, however if the mechs wanted to enter, they’d have to crawl.

From that corridor, the smaller humanoid aliens with the laser rifles rushed inside. They were accompanied by the spider robots Rade had encountered on the surface as well.

“Into the mechs!” Rade said, ducking from view once more. “I promised we wouldn’t surrender!”

“What about our oxygen levels?” Rex asked, leaping onto his Brigand and climbing the rungs on its leg. “Should we remove our helmets? According to my scans, the air is breathable.”

“I’m not willing to remove my helmet just yet,” Rade said, stowing his laser rifle and grenades in the leg storage compartment, and then pulling himself into Taya’s cockpit. “Not when the aliens can open up these bay doors and initiate an atmospheric decompression that will explode every last alveoli in our lungs.”

“Plus, there’s always the chance of contagions,” Fret added.

“That, too,” Rade agreed.

“But we’re almost out!” Rex said.

“Hang on just a little longer,” Rade said. “You are a MOTH, trained in land, air, space, and sea. You’re good at holding your breath.”

The cockpit closed behind Rade, shutting him in darkness. The inner actuators wrapped around his jumpsuit, cocooning him in place. He switched to the external cameras, and the view of the hangar bay from Taya’s height filled his vision.

“Prepare to open fire,” Rade said.

His zodiac was already in place on his right hand, but his shield was not yet deployed. He activated it then, holding his shield arm well away from the hull of the shuttle; and the body length protection unfolded.

He stood up, leaving his knee magnets engaged so that his Brigand remained affixed to the hull. The far side of the compartment came into view, along with the aliens and spider robots deploying at the entrance. As of yet, none of them were rushing the shuttle.

The aliens screeched at him loudly. He ignored the sound and rotated his shield horizontally in front of him to protect the portion of his body that was exposed. Then he slid the muzzle of his zodiac over the edge, and aimed at the aliens and spiders.

Beside him, the other mechs of both platoons were likewise acquiring targets and shielding the exposed portions of their bodies. Some mechs peered over the top of the shuttle, others the sides.

The aliens opened fire.

“We’re taking laser impacts on the shield,” Taya said. “It’s holding.”

“Good.” Rade aligned his targeting crosshairs over a group of aliens near the entrance, and fired. The air cracked as the lightning bolt smashed into the target and arced into the five adjacent targets—two spiders, and three aliens. Other electrolasers fired across the platoon, simply frying the creatures and robots gathered at the entrance. In only a few moments, none were left, and the bodies had fallen like rag dolls to the deck.

The hatch behind the aliens was sealing.

“To the door!” Rade clambered onto the top of the shuttle, and leaped off the far side, landing on the deck with a soft thud. The greenish deck sunk slightly beneath him.

He darted forward, and tried to jam his cobra into the door before it could close, but he was too late. He was about to attempt to rip it off its hinges when the atmosphere suddenly expelled. He felt a slight pull behind him as the air was sucked out of the compartment, and realized the enemy had opened the main bay doors. Not surprising.

“There goes our oxygen,” Kicker said.

“What a kicker, huh?” Bender said. “Makes me want to kick someone in the nards. Like Chicken Kicker!”

“Nards?”” Manic quipped. “Are we referring to the Himalayan spikenard?”

“Shut up!” Bender said.

Rade retracted a fist and slammed it into the hatch. The surface dented, but didn’t crumple entirely.

“Strong stuff,” Tahoe commented.

“Wait,” TJ said. “I’m reading a remote interface. Anarchist, is this your doing?”

“Yes,” the Anarchist said. “I’ve already set up my wrapper around the Nemesis technology. I’m routing the signal from the Nemesis gear in my cockpit, to your comm nodes.”

“Okay, Chief, I can open this door,” TJ said. “Give me a moment.”

Rade waited, but nothing happened.

“TJ?” Rade said.

“A few more seconds,” TJ said. “I have to hack it, just like I would our own doors.”

“How is that even working?” Lui said. “Our protocols are completely different. The Anarchist can’t translate your hacking code into alien equivalents, because there are no alien equivalents.”

“That isn’t entirely true,” the Anarchist said. “I am presenting the data to TJ in a form that a human can understand. It is structured differently than United Systems programs, but TJ has adapted, and is experimenting with different code paths and vectors of penetration. I implement these different code paths of his, translating them into Nemesis code in turn, and direct the results back to him. Also, sometimes his work gives me ideas, and I follow my own coding paths, but I still feed the output to him so he has something to play with. So essentially, we are working together to hack the system.”

And then the hatch opened. A small rush of air told Rade the corridor beyond had been pressurized. It was too small to fit a mech unless it crawled, as mentioned.

Actually, it wasn’t a corridor. It ended in another hatch only a short distance in front of the first. Too small to fit the length of even a crawling mech.

“I think it’s an airlock,” Tahoe said.

“That’s exactly what it is,” Rade said. He glanced at his ever-dwindling oxygen supply. One minute left. No point in bashing through to allow the mech, not if it meant losing the oxygen that might be waiting on the other side.

He opened his cockpit and swung onto the rungs of Taya’s right leg. “It’s time to switch to jumpsuits.”

He opened the storage compartment in the leg area and retrieved the laser rifle and grenades.

“Keep a wary eye on the Anarchist and its mechs,” Rade told Taya. “Don’t let them get the jump on you.”

“I won’t,” Taya said. “And you be careful in there as well.”

Rade secured the grenades to his harness and leaped down; he was joined by the other members of the team as they exited their mechs. Cynthia landed behind him.

“Into the airlock.” Rade proceeded inside. The greenish deck seemed to yield a little with each step.

“TJ, are you hacking the next hatch?” Rade asked.

“Already started, yes,” TJ replied.

Snakeoil was first to the farther hatch, and applied his scanner to the glass-like portal. “I’m detecting a compatible environment on the other side! Twenty percent oxygen.”

Rade was relieved to hear that. “Any sign of enemies?”

“No,” Snakeoil said. “But I’m viewing the corridor at a perpendicular, so all I have is one of those pulsating bulkheads to look at directly in front of me.”

The others squeezed into the airlock behind Rade, but there was enough room to fit only half the team. “All right, those who haven’t entered the airlock, get back so we have clearance to seal the hatch. You’ll have to hold your breath until we can empty the airlock for the second group.” He waited until the aforementioned members of the team had stepped back, and then said: “TJ? How are we doing?”

“Almost…” TJ said.

The hatch shut behind him, and mist flowed into the airlock from the top and bottom.

“A compatible atmosphere is flowing inside,” Snakeoil said.

“Handy of these Nemesis, to modify their airlocks just to support us,” Tahoe said.

“Does seem a little too convenient, doesn’t it?” Rade asked.

“Is it possible they breathe our air, too?” Fret asked.

“If they breathe our air, why were they surviving in the toxic environment of the planet below?” Bender said.

“I’m not quite sure what’s going on at the moment,” Rade said. “But I won’t question it, not yet, especially if it means our survival!”

The outer hatch opened.

The corridor ended just to his left, and in front of him was the bulkhead Snakeoil had referred to earlier. To the right, the corridor proceeded just out of view. They were essentially at the tip of an “L” shaped passage. In the overhead, small glowing domes provided light, negating the need for LIDAR or other vision aids.

Rade peered past the edge, toward the right, and withdrew immediately when he spotted the aliens lying in wait.

Laser bores appeared along the edges of the airlock beside him.

Rade removed a grenade from his harness and tossed it past the edge. Another. He waited for the two explosions, then beckoned toward Fret and Manic.

The pair entered, moving to the right. Manic went high, Fret low. They fired their laser rifles in rapid succession.

Then Manic announced: “Clear!”

Rade and the others dashed inside.

“Spoke too soon!” Manic said.

Rade and the others dropped, taking cover behind the bodies of the aliens, and the spider robots that littered the passage.

“TJ, recycle that airlock!” Rade said.

The hatch closed, and Rade felt a follow-up vibration that told him the inner door had opened, allowing the rest of the team access to the airlock. He glanced at his overhead map and was relieved to see the rest of the team piling inside.

Rade checked his external jumpsuit sensors, wanting to confirm that an oxygen environment indeed existed here.

It did.

Relieved, Rade said: “Open up your faceplates!”

He was about to activate the manual release on his faceplate, when Fret spoke.

“What about contagions!” Fret said. “We could inhale some alien virus, or their spores! Creatures could grow inside us, and burst from our chests!”

“It’s either that, or die now,” Rade said, glancing at his oxygen levels. They had just reached zero. “I’ll take a few extra minutes over immediate death.”

“If there are alien spores in the air, they’re not showing up on any scans,” Snakeoil said, scanner in hand where he lay in cover on the floor.

Rade opened up his faceplate and inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring in the recycled air. It was spoiled by the smell of burnt flesh and wires.

Cynthia was crouched just behind him, and she, too, removed her helmet. She was panting as if she’d run a marathon.

“Didn’t realize just how low my oxygen levels had gotten,” she said. “When it says zero, and you don’t feel any different, you begin to wonder if the reading is wrong. And then you begin to gasp.”

It was interesting, hearing her voice echo from his Implant, and his ears, at the same time, as it was transmitted both over the comm, and the air.

The outer hatch opened.

“Covering fire!” Rade said. He peered past the top of the spider robot he was crouched behind, and unleashed several blasts at the alien targets in the distance. They were peering past a bend in the corridor, and promptly ducked from view as Rade and the others engaged.

The other members of the team piled inside and dove to the floor. Their faceplates opened, and they gasped for air.

“I thought I was going to black out,” Rex said.

“Little pussy!” Bender said. “How the hell did you graduate BSD/M! You’re not a MOTH, you’re a maggot!”

“You sound like the instructors,” Rex said.

“I sound like your worst nightmare!” Bender said. “Suck it up!”

Bender ducked as a laser bored through the alien that served as his hide; it emerged right next to Bender’s head. Outraged, he aimed his rifle over the top and released a volley of shots.

Manic and Fret threw some grenades, and took out the aliens that were dug in past the bend. Then they rushed forward to that bend, and slowly peered past the edge.

“Clear!” Manic said. “But they’ve closed a breach seal of some kind.”

Rade rushed to the edge, and gazed past. A short distance in front of him, a metal door had sealed, blocking all progress forward.

“Going to have to switch to laser cutter mode,” Rade said. “Snakeoil, Lui, this one’s yours.”

Snakeoil and Lui rushed forward, and switched their rifles to the appropriate mode, and began cutting through.

“Anarchist, do you still read us?” Rade tried. He glanced at his overhead map; he could still see the dots of the mechs he’d left in the hangar bay, but that was misleading, because those dots would still indicate the last known position of the mechs even if he lost signal.

“Yes,” the voice of the Anarchist was distorted, no doubt thanks to the bulkheads. “But signal strength is weak.”

Rade nodded. “Rex, Fret, stay here. You’ll act as repeaters to ensure our signal to the Anarchist doesn’t degrade further.”

“Great, I get to act as a repeater now,” Fret said. “This is what I always dreamed of when I signed up for the military.”

“Glad I could fulfill your dreams,” Rade said.

Snakeoil and Lui withdrew their weapons when they had created a man-sized red rectangle in the door. They left only a small section at the corner in place.

“Get back!” Rade ordered.

The team retreated past the bend while Snakeoil and Lui kicked in the cutout they’d made, breaking the corner section. Then they ducked behind the edges.

Laser fire erupted from within; Rade couldn’t see it, but he knew it was there, because bore holes appeared in the exposed wall beyond the bend to his left.

“Why aren’t they using their energy weapons anymore?” Tahoe asked.

“No idea,” Rade replied. “I’m sure those weapons will be coming soon.”

“Don’t jinx us, Cyclone!” Fret said.

Rade switched to Snakeoil’s viewpoint, and watched the man throw grenades, while Lui followed up with laser fire. In only a few moments, they had downed the four aliens that had come to stop them.

“Clear!” Lui said.

“All right,” Rade said. “We proceed. Through the breach, people. It’s time to see what else these aliens have waiting for us.”

17

The corridor here was wide enough to fit them two abreast. Sometimes, the ribs that lined the pulsing bulkheads at intervals also overflowed onto the deck below, forcing Rade and the others to step over them. Speaking of that deck… his boots continued to sink slightly into that soft, spongy surface. It was the oddest feeling, and seemed very out of place aboard a starship.

“Feel like we’re walking through a swamp, or something,” Kicker said.

“Or a living entity,” Praxter said.

“I’m just waiting for Bender to say the pulsing walls remind him of his dick,” Manic said.

But Bender didn’t answer. He was muttering to himself.

Rade slowed down until he was on drag, and striding alongside him. “Bender, what’s wrong?”

Bender looked at him. “What?”

“You seem distracted…” Rade said.

Bender glanced at the others, narrowing his eyes when his gaze touched Cynthia. He lowered his voice, and disabled his internal microphone so that his voice wouldn’t carry over the comm. “Something’s not right.”

Rade nodded, disabling his mic as well. “Of course, something’s not right. We’re making our way through the innards of an enemy starship. We could be attacked at any time. Or incinerated by some hidden weapon.”

“I know, but there’s something else,” Bender said. “I can’t place it. These enemies feel too easy, for one.”

“I have a feeling the aliens are going to be getting a lot tougher when we get close to our target,” Rade said. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“You’re probably right,” Bender said. “But it also feels like, well, that something is watching us. I know there’s probably an AI observing our every move, but I get the sense it knows exactly what we’re thinking, and planning. As if it’s cracked our communications protocol. If that’s even possible at this early stage. I don’t like anything about this op. Not one friggin’ bit. I can’t shake the feeling that this Anarchist is going to betray us in the end, spacing us, cutting us loose while it takes the ship. And probably our mechs.”

Rade studied his friend. “We’re all on edge. It’s the stress of the mission, that’s all you’re feeling. You can’t let it get to you.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bender said. “Shit, I’ve been on hundreds of ops like this. Many of them aboard enemy starships. What the hell is wrong with me? Let’s do this.”

Rade patted Bender on the shoulder—he had to hit him quite hard for him to feel it beneath the jumpsuit—and then squeezed forward until he was closer to the middle of the platoon. He stopped just behind Cynthia, wanting to keep her in his line of sight.

He hadn’t admitted it to Bender, but he too was on edge. Mostly because of Cynthia and the Anarchist, who still ranked low in his books when it came to trustworthiness. Not to mention their rapidly dwindling oxygen supply.

He wondered if he should have left Cynthia in the hangar bay. What better place for her to sabotage the mission then by allowing her to embed among them, after all. And yet, it wasn’t possible to leave her there—her oxygen had run out at the same time as everyone else’s.

She has to come with us whether I like it or not.

Still, he wondered if he should leave her behind the next time he deployed men to act as repeaters.

The team reached a T intersection. “Which way, Anarchist?” Rade sent.

“Left,” the Anarchist said over the comm, voice clear and crisp. “The command and control is that way.”

“Are you sure?” Rade asked.

“From what I’ve been able to hack from this ship since arriving, yes,” the Anarchist said.

“Why not send that data our way?” Rade said. “And mark off the route?”

A moment later Rade received a data request. He suddenly regretted asking for that data, worried about a hack.

“TJ, scan this, would you?” Rade said over the Alpha platoon line.

“That’s right, TJ gets to be the guinea pig,” TJ said. A moment later. “The scan turns up clear. I’m unpacking it.” A few more seconds. “Seems to be free of viruses. None of my custom antiviral code tripped.”

“All right, thanks,” Rade said. “Can you share the data directly with the platoon?” That avoided sending any of the wrappers the Anarchist might have used.

“Sure, but it won’t help,” TJ said. “If I’m infected by some unknown virus, the rest of you probably are too, by now. Assuming it’s designed to propagate over our network.”

“I don’t think so,” Bender said. “I’m seeing nothing in my logs. I think we’re good.”

That was enough to convince Rade it was safe. If Bender said they were good, then they were good: he and TJ were among the top cybersecurity experts on the Teams, after all.

He accepted the request from TJ and the map filled out with the partial blueprints of the alien starship that the Anarchist had hacked. A route was marked on the map, leading to the command and control.

Snakeoil and Lui led the way down the left corridor, and the others followed behind them.

Rade tested his signal strength at every new bend to confirm that he could still communicate with Taya and the Anarchist. Eventually, it became low enough that he ordered Kicker and Pyro to stay behind to ensure the link remained active. The pair ducked inside an alcove—some kind of empty storage closet—while the rest of the platoon advanced.

Rade decided not to leave Cynthia with the two. As a civilian, she was safer with the rest of the team. Plus, he decided it was better to keep her under his watchful eye anyway.

They encountered more resistance on the way to their target, in the form of laser-totting aliens and spider robots, but the team was able to defeat them. He was definitely feeling Bender’s doubts about all of this being too easy, because none of the tangos ever used energy weapons.

But then Skullcracker went down during a surprise attack, when the enemy tossed grenade equivalents from around the far bend. Lui and Snakeoil dove to the ground, but Skullcracker was a little too slow, and he took some heavy shrapnel. His green status indicator dipped to yellow, bordering on the red section.

Snakeoil dragged him to safety around the closest bend, and Rade worked on him while the others dealt with the threat.

Rade retrieved the suitrep kit Skullcracker had in the cargo pocket of his jumpsuit, and applied the necessary blood clotting substance. Even though a lifelike skull tattoo inked the man’s face, hiding his expression, Rade could still see the pain clearly in his friend’s eyes.

“You’ve severed your femoral artery,” Rade said. “I can’t get the blood to clot. You’re going to have to instruct your suit to tighten the leg area, here.” Rade indicated the spot on the suit above the thigh. “Can you do that? Or you can grant me override?”

Rade saw a circular section of the suit tighten, so he knew Skullcracker had done it. But a moment later Rade also received the override request, and accepted.

“My life is in your hands, Chief,” Skullcracker said.

“Not much more I can do,” Rade said. “Until we can get you to a sick bay.”

“Then I guess I’m getting back on my feet,” Skullcracker gritted his teeth and tried to get back up, but then fell down again. “Hurts.”

“I’ll leave someone here to stay with you,” Rade said.

Skullcracker shook his head. His expression relaxed. “Had my suit inject a painkiller. You think I’m going to stay here, while the rest of you have all the fun? Now help me up.”

Rade smiled grimly, then pulled Skullcracker upright. Praxter was there beside him, offering his shoulder as a crutch.

“Can walk on my own,” Skullcracker said. But when he took a step, he nearly toppled. He leaned heavily on the bulkhead, panting.

Praxter slid underneath his arm; this time Skullcracker didn’t protest. Praxter walked forward, and Skullcracker limped alongside him, placing the least amount of weight, for the shortest possible time, on his injured leg with each step.

Rade approached the edge. The others had ceased firing, but remained in place with their laser rifles aimed past, watching the corridor beyond.

“Sit-rep?”

“Threat dealt with,” Tahoe said.

“Lui, Snakeoil, lead the way,” Rade said.

The pair advanced into the corridor.

“I don’t want to make it sound like I’m glad Skullcracker got injured,” Bender said. “But it does put me at ease, a little. Things were seeming a little too easy there.”

“Nothing like having a team mate’s blood drawn to sharpen one’s sense of danger,” Manic said.

“Still, is it bothering anyone else that those grenades seemed oddly similar to our own?” Bender asked. “Or am I just a nervous bitch?”

“You’re a nervous bitch,” Manic replied.

“Explosives are some of the cheapest and easiest weapons to develop,” Tahoe said. “My guess is, we caught the enemy with their pants down, and they have yet to deploy their heavy guns. In fact, some of those guns might not even be feasibly operated inside ships like this. The scouts and energy turrets we encountered on the surface, for example, would never fit in these cramped corridors.”

Rade stepped over the bodies of aliens, and followed the others deeper into the organic starship. He caught Cynthia looking at him, and he wondered what she was thinking. There was fear in her eyes, but also something else. Doubt?

Lui reached the bend just before the supposed command and control room, and when he peered past the edge with his rifle, he immediately pulled back.

The exposed bulkhead beside him became littered with plasma blasts.

“Well, looks like we’ve finally reached the big guns,” Lui said. “They’ve got turrets on the deck and overhead. Anyone have any grenades left?”

Rade gathered up all the grenades left in the platoon, and gave them to Lui. “Here’s all four of them.”

“Hm,” Lui said. He amped up the output of his servomotors, and leaned past, moving almost in a blur to throw a grenade. Then he ducked again.

The explosion followed almost instantly, coming so close that the orange flames were momentarily visible past the edge. More plasma bolts slammed into the exposed bulkhead that formed the L shaped turn.

Lui waited until the attack ceased, and then held his scope around the bend; he withdrew as still more incoming fire erupted.

“They shot down the grenade, far as I can tell,” Lui said. “I can try the others, but I think they’ll be wasted.”

“We’re almost there…” Rade said. “I can’t believe we’re going to get stuck here. Anarchist, is there another route?”

The Anarchist took a moment to respond. “No, I believe this is the only way to the command and control.”

“Can we cut through the walls?” Snakeoil asked.

“According to my data, they are too thick here,” the Anarchist said. “If you want to reach the command and control, you have to get past those turrets.”

“Lui, send me the footage you recorded of those defenses,” Rade said.

He received the footage, and studied the positioning of the turrets. There were two sets, positioned on the deck and overhead, precisely as Lui had described, with the two on the deck placed in front of the two on the ceiling. All four were lined up with the corner. Past them, the corridor continued a short way, ending in a bulkhead. Beside that wall was a metal door, leading to the Anarchist’s fabled command and control.

“Looks like you were right about the enemy getting tougher, Chief,” Bender said.

“Yes,” Rade said. “Nothing’s ever easy. Anyone have any ideas?”

“We could go back, and fetch some of the spider bodies,” Lui suggested. “And use them as shields.”

“There are too many turrets,” Praxter said. “They’ll easily melt through any robot or alien bodies you bring. Take a look at the damage to the exposed bulkhead.”

Praxter was right. A good portion of it was eaten away. The damage was almost as bad as what energy weapons were capable of inflicting.

“You know, maybe we can use that,” Tahoe said. “Make them keep firing at that wall, and create a passage to another corridor.”

“Take a look at the map,” Snakeoil said. “If it’s correct, it winds between the other corridors and compartments, with nothing but metal all the way to the hull.”

“Maybe you won’t have to physically set foot in the command and control after all,” the Anarchist said. “I’ve just completed my latest hack… you should be able to detect a remote interface from your current position.”

“He’s right,” TJ said. “A remote interface just appeared.”

“That seems a little too convenient…” Bender commented.

“Yes, how is that even possible?” Tahoe said. “The Anarchist is too far away to interface directly with its own Nemesis technology. How is it providing the necessary wrapper?”

“I’m using your comm nodes to transcode the signal into a compatible protocol,” the Anarchist said.

“That’s some mighty fine bullshit right there,” Bender said. “Considering that our comm nodes can’t read gamma rays.”

“This particular section of the ship utilizes technology that is compatible with yours,” the Anarchist sent.

“You mean it’s using radio waves?” Bender said.

“That’s right,” the Anarchist said.

Bender switched to the private, Alpha only channel. “The Anarchist is so full of shit I can smell its stench from here.”

“The question is, do we continue with the hack, or do we call the Anarchist out on its bullshit and stand down?” Lui said.

“I’m not sure standing down is an option,” Rade said. “Since it’s obvious the aliens are shooting to kill, given Skullcracker’s condition.”

“Maybe that’s only because we’re forcing them to,” Lui said. “We’re boarding their ship, after all…”

“That’s a very good point,” Tahoe said. “But do we really want to surrender to aliens?”

Rade stared at the map, trying to figure out what to do.

“We’re under attack,” Fret announced from his position closer to the hangar bay. Rade saw the red dots on the map that had appeared around his and Rex’s position, marking the locations of the tangos.

“We are as well!” Pyro said, from where he had stayed back to act as a repeater with Kicker.

Once again, Rade saw more red dots.

There weren’t really many options. Not at all. It looked like they were going to have to try hacking into the ship after all. He’d also have to send some men back to help the other teams.

But before he gave the order, he turned to TJ, and muted his microphone so only his close-by team members would hear him. “If the Anarchist was able to enable the remote interface, why does the entity need you to finish the hack? Why can’t the Anarchist finish this on his own?”

“Well, we worked together on previous hacks,” TJ said. “Essentially bouncing ideas off of one another. Maybe he needs my inspiration… he’ll see my methods, and translate them into an attack of his own.”

Rade was suddenly aware that Cynthia was staring at him; very likely she was relaying everything she heard through her open faceplate to the Anarchist.

“Get her out of here,” Rade told Lui. “I want her well away from the rest of us. Put her on drag.”

“What, why?” Cynthia said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

But Lui and Snakeoil removed her, and when she was gone, he returned his attention to TJ. “You’re the Anarchist’s inspiration…”

Rade’s gaze drifted to the overhead map, where his two teams were dug in and in trouble. They were surviving, but in need of aid. If the enemy brought their grenade equivalents to the fight, his friends would be done for.

He zoomed out on the map to get a better idea of how far away the teams were from the rest of the platoon. As he studied that map, Rade had a sudden thought.

He executed a reverse lookup on the blueprints the Anarchist gave them, running it against the blueprints of other United Systems and Earth starship classes stored in his embedded ID.

He received a partial match. The design, at least for the small portion the Anarchist had shared, was identical to a Barracuda class starship.

That seemed impossible, given that the exterior shape wasn’t even close to a Barracuda. And the organic, ribbed corridors were as far removed from an Earth ship as one could get.

Unless his eyes were deceiving him…

His faceplate was open, which meant the helmet’s augmented reality capabilities couldn’t be overwriting his vision. He was seeing reality with his own eyes.

Wait.

There was still another aReal he had, this one inside his head.

On a whim, he turned off his Implant.

His connection to the other team members terminated instantly, and the status indicators and overhead map overlaying his vision vanished.

The rounded, pulsating organic walls disappeared as well, replaced by the cold, rectangular bulkheads typically found on United Systems starships. The soft deck, which had slightly engulfed the soles of his boots, was now solid, intractable metal.

We’ve had the wool pulled over our eyes.

18

The comm node in Rade’s jumpsuit was still active, which meant it might have been infected as well. To determine that, he momentarily closed his faceplate, and confirmed that the HUD displayed on the glass didn’t change his surroundings. That meant his helmet very likely wasn’t hacked.

Via the HUD, he accessed the comm node of the jumpsuit, and tapped into the private line he shared with Alpha platoon so that the other teams would hear him. He excluded Cynthia, and the Brigand mechs, in addition to the Anarchist’s units.

Then, leaving the connection active, he opened the faceplate so he could breathe again.

“We’ve been hacked,” Rade announced. “Turn off your Implants immediately, and switch to the comm nodes in your jumpsuits. Praxter, I want you to shut down immediately.”

“Chief, did I hear you correctly?” Praxter said. “You want me to shut down?”

“That’s right,” Rade said. “Immediately. That’s an order.”

“Very well.” Praxter’s eyes closed, and his body became very rigid.

Beside him, Bender blinked. “Holy friggin’ shit. This looks like one of our own ships!”

“That’s because it probably is,” Rade said.

Across the platoon, members sealed their faceplates to activate their jumpsuit comm nodes, before opening them so that they could breathe again.

“I’ve purposely left our Brigands out of the loop,” Rade said. “Fret, Rex, Kicker, Pyro, can you confirm whether your attackers till appear alien?”

“Our attackers are not alien,” Pyro said. “I’m seeing United Systems security forces in place of the aliens, and Centurion robots where there were spider robots.”

“Try to surrender,” Rade said.

A moment later, Pyro said: “They’ve accepted our surrender. We’ve kicked our weapons away, and they’re telling us to lie on the deck with our hands behind our back.”

“Do it,” Rade said. “Fret, Rex?”

“They’ve agreed to our surrender here too,” Fret said. “And they want us to lie down so they can bind us and take us to the brig.”

“Allow it,” Rade said.

He watched the red dots approach the two teams. The status indicators of his men stayed green when the dots surrounded them, which told Rade they weren’t being harmed. Then the groups proceeded deeper into the ship with their new charges.

“Wait, you mean all this time we’ve been attacking our own men?” Lui said. “We’ve seen these aliens, and these spider robots since the attack on the Nemesis base! All this time, the aReals in our Implants were changing them into aliens? I feel sick to my stomach.”

“We all do,” Rade agreed. He could only imagine how many people he’d killed since invading the “Nemesis base.” The thought was devastating. But there was no time to grieve. Not yet. He’d have all the time in the world to do that in his prison cell.

“It all started after our oxygen tanks suddenly dropped to an hour remaining,” Skullcracker said.

“Yes, that’s about the correct time,” Rade said. He glanced at Tahoe. “Confirm that Praxter shut down.”

Tahoe went to Praxter, who was close to the bend, and reached inside his helmet, as the faceplate was open like everyone else. He squeezed his hand inside and appeared to feel around at the back of his head. Then he removed his hand. “I engaged the manual shutdown. If he wasn’t deactivated before, he is now.”

“Good,” Rade said.

Tahoe left Praxter, and on a whim peered around the bend, toward the “command and control,” and pulled back when plasma beams melted the bulkhead beside him. “The turrets still look like turrets. And they’re hot as ever.”

“We’re near engineering,” Rade said. “According to this map. I’ve matched up the blueprints to a Barracuda class vessel.”

“In engineering, or near it, where we are now, we would have been able to take control of the ship,” Bender said. “That’s what that Anarchist bitch wanted us to do. That’s why it needed our help. It wanted you to bounce ideas off of, my ass,” Bender told TJ. “You were the one doing the hacking for the Anarchist all this friggin’ time!”

“And so I was,” TJ agreed.

“What was next?” Lui asked. “What did the Anarchist plan to do once it took control of our ship?”

“Who knows?” TJ replied. “Maybe it hoped to escape the system by Slipstream. Or perhaps it intended to take control of the fleet itself, using the trusted nature of this ship’s comm node as the launching point for its cyberattack. With Bender and I acting as the hackers, of course.”

“Assuming the rest of the fleet didn’t blow us up first,” Rade said.

“Yes, or they could simply ignore all communications from us,” TJ said.

“That, too,” Rade agreed. “Which is probably what we should have done with the Anarchist and its team from the start.”

He glanced at Cynthia, who was still near the back of the group, watched by Snakeoil. She had probably overhead some of what was said by those members of the platoon closest to her, but she would have had a hard time hearing those in Rade’s current inner circle; even so, he leaned in close to Bender, and said, softly: “Do you still have your hack program ready?”

“Which one?” Bender asked.

“The one you designed to subtly hack the Hoplites and Titans…” Rade explained. “Specifically, the Hoplite holding the Anarchist.”

“Ah,” Bender said. “I have it ready, yes. But I gave up on it, remember? Considering how remote the possibilities of success were.”

“What if we could boost those probabilities?” Rade asked.

“How?” Bender said, seeming intrigued.

“What if you could access the extra cloud computing resources of the Barracuda?” Rade said. “With those resources at your command, could you accelerate your hack attempts against the Anarchist, and improve your odds of success?”

“Well, yeah,” Bender said. “I could brute force attack the shit out of the Anarchist. With the cloud computing power, I could also totally obfuscate the attack to look like ordinary network signals.”

“They won’t just give him control, you know, considering we’ve been trying to take over their ship…” Tahoe said.

“We could ask,” Manic said. “Call the captain, let him know the situation. Say we’re sorry and all, you know.”

“Somehow I doubt the captain would agree, considering how many of his security forces we’ve eliminated,” Rade said. “In fact, I expect the captain to be mightily pissed.” He sealed his faceplate to momentarily activate the HUD, and noticed a flashing indicator in the lower right of his display. He opened the helmet again and said: “Looks like the captain wants to talk to me right now, in fact. But before I tap in…” He glanced at Bender. “There’s no way you can get access to the Barracuda’s cloud computing resources?”

A sly look came over Bender’s face. “Not officially.”

Rade nodded. “TJ, work with Bender to escalate privileges in the AI core of the starship. Continue doing what you were doing in engineering, if necessary.”

“So, take over the ship?” TJ asked with a gleeful grin.

“Not unless you have to,” Rade said. “We only need to partition some of the AI core’s cloud computing resources to help Bender hack the Anarchist.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Tahoe said. “You guys make it sound like hacking a starship is easier than hacking a bunch of mechs.”

“Which is somewhat true,” TJ said. “Considering that mechs are usually locked down a whole lot tighter: they fight close to enemy units, and as such need to be far more resistant to exploits. They’re also running a single operating system. Plus, keep in mind that the mech we need to hack has also been augmented with alien technology, which also makes it harder to invade.

“Now starships, on the other hand, have to be boarded in order to get close to the necessary interfaces. And in engineering, the consoles are usually running a mishmash of operating systems, most of them outdated; the techs avoid installing the latest official patches from the vendors because that can break their interoperability. It’s something best done in a dry dock, but as we all know, ships can remain in deep space for years before returning to a space station. That’s why engineering is the best place to hack in, for someone who knows how to do it. The Anarchist chose his access point well.”

Rade sealed his faceplate and gazed at the flashing indicator, answering the call request. Then he opened his visor—his jumpsuit would maintain the connection even while the plate was open.

“Hello,” Rade said. “This is Chief Rade ‘Rage’ Galaal, of Alfa Platoon, MOTH Team Seven.”

“We’ve been trying to reach you all this time, Galaal,” the voice said. “You’ve been ignoring us.”

“Our Implants have been compromised by alien forces,” Rade said.

“Your men mentioned something about that,” the voice said. “You’ve turned your Implants off like them, I take it?”

“We have,” Rade said. “I’m communicating with you via my jumpsuit comm node, which seems unaffected by the compromise. Who am I speaking to by the way?”

“This is Captain Frank Mercedes,” the voice replied. “I have a group of ten security forces waiting nearby to apprehend you. I’ve held them back for the moment, since it looks like we can resolve this situation peacefully. You’re not going to resist if I send them in, are you?”

“I’ll have to ask you to hold back for a moment,” Rade said. “We will offer you our complete and unconditional surrender shortly. We do have a man here in need of medical attention, so I ask that you take him immediately to sick bay when the time comes.”

“I’m not sure I can hold back for much longer,” Captain Mercedes said. “The main AI tells me your men are continuing their privilege escalation attempts in engineering.”

“Yes,” Rade said. “That’s because you still have a problem. See, all of the mechs in the hangar bay will continue to resist. They’re in the complete control of the alien being known as the Anarchist, who has hitched a ride aboard one of the Hoplites in the bay. This Hoplite has alien technology embedded in its cockpit.”

“Alien technology?” the captain said. “Then capturing that mech is top priority. Versus destroying it outright.”

“I agree,” Rade said. “My team is working on remedying that problem, but to do that, we’ll need to borrow some spare processing power from your AI core. If you could authorize this, then I’ll have my men stand down on their privilege escalation attempts.”

“That won’t be possible, given the circumstances,” Captain Mercedes said. “Don’t get me wrong. I believe you, mostly. You see, we’ve had other mechs hacked in a similar manner, and we’ve developed an inoculation, but it has to be applied directly to the mechs in question. But this is the first time I’ve heard of Implants behind hacked, so you’ll excuse me if I’m reluctant to help you, considering that you just tried to forcibly take over my starship. You’ve killed a lot of good men, and AIs. So no, I’m not sharing cloud computing resources with you. Your team will have to work with their own resources.”

“That’s too bad,” Rade said.

“I’ll give you five minutes to ‘remedy the problem,’ as you called it,” the captain said. “We know about Bender and TJ. Their reputations as two of the best hackers in the military precede them. So, I’m looking forward to seeing what they can do to this Anarchist. In the meantime, I’m going to have to ask you to stand down on your attempt to hack into engineering, again because of the reputation of those two men on your team… otherwise, if you don’t stand down, I’ll have to send in my forces. And there will be more bloodshed.”

“All right, we’ll stand down on the engineering attack,” Rade said. “By the way, there’s something I want you to listen in on, captain. You might enjoy this.”

“Okay…” the captain said.

Rade muted the captain so that he couldn’t hear what was said next. He glanced at Bender.

“The captain is asking us to stand down on the engineering attack,” Rade said. “Tell me you’re almost in…”

“Already got in while you were talking to the captain,” Bender said with an evil grin. “We’ve allocated the necessary cloud computing resources to help with the Anarchist cyberattack. I’m working on breaking into the Hoplite’s AI core even now.”

“The captain won’t like it,” Lui said.

“Screw the captain,” Bomb said.

“Il capitano won’t even notice,” TJ said. “Nor the main AI. Since we’re already in, we’ve ceased any further penetration efforts on the starship’s core. We’ve also marked our existing CPU utilization as part of the ‘system idle’ process, so it won’t even show up in the process list.”

“You guys are evil,” Bomb said. “Pure evil. Remind me, when I get my own starship, to never invite you aboard.”

“You know, if the main AI is listening, you just gave yourselves away,” Lui said.

Bender shrugged, and grinned to showcase his golden grille. “I disabled the main AI’s microphones in this area.” He turned toward Rade. “I’m using the brute force approach I told you about to hack into the Hoplite. The high-speed processors of the cloud are masking the access attempts as random network chatter. That said, there’s still a chance the Anarchist will realize what I’m doing, and might wipe its mind.”

“I’m not particularly concerned if it does so at the moment,” Rade said. “And to be honest, I don’t really think the entity will. It values its life too much to self-destroy… it wouldn’t have transferred its consciousness into an AI core otherwise. So, keep trying while I have my little talk with the entity. I’ll do my best to distract it.”

“Is there something you wanted me to hear?” Captain Mercedes asked over the channel.

Rade unmuted the captain. “Yes.”

Rade walked to Cynthia, who was still being watched by Snakeoil near the rear of the group. Rade gestured at the others, giving the hand signal to watch the far approach, in case the captain decided to renege on his promise to hold off his forces for the next five minutes. Lui and Manic hurried past them, and knelt down on one knee to target the far bend in the corridor with their laser rifles.

“Cynthia, put the Anarchist on your external speakers,” Rade said.

“Why don’t you connect to him directly?” Cynthia asked.

“Because I don’t want the alien to hack my suit,” Rade replied. “As he hacked my Implant.” He searched her face for signs of surprise, but there were none. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rade asked.

“I feared the Anarchist would do the same to me,” Cynthia replied. “So, I kept quiet, like a good little girl, and did what the Anarchist required of me.”

“You kept silent while we killed our own men?” Rade said. “How could you?”

She shook her head. “I can’t tell you how hard that was for me to watch. But what could I do? If I spoke, the Anarchist would have simply intercepted my words, and warped them into something else before they reached your ears, or muted them entirely. And then I would have been forced to live the same illusion as you. It seemed better to me to stay on his good side.”

“All right, well, tap him in,” Rade said. “Assuming you haven’t let him listen in all this time.”

“I haven’t…” she said. Her eyes defocused slightly, telling Rade that she, too, had an Implant. He had to wonder if hers was hacked, too.

Then she looked up.

The Anarchist’s voice came over her speaker system. “You’ve been offline for a long time. Do you have news? Have you hacked the alien starship?”

“You mean the United Systems starship?” Rade asked.

The Anarchist didn’t answer.

“That’s right, the gig is up, Anarchist,” Rade said. “We know what you’ve done. It’s time to start giving us some answers.”

19

Rade waited for the Anarchist to respond through Cynthia’s speaker system, but instead was met only by more silence.

“We know you’ve hacked our Implants,” Rade continued. “That you’ve been altering what we’ve been seeing and hearing. Making us kill members of our own security forces.”

Finally, a deep, rumbling laugh came over the comm.

“Yes,” the Anarchist said. “I was wondering how long the ruse would last. For a while there, I almost believed that you would hack this ship for me, and then the ships of your entire fleet. Either that, or help me destroy them. But alas, it was not meant to be.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Rade said.

“There is no disappointment,” the Anarchist said. “But only continued amusement. This battle is not done yet.”

“You have nowhere to go,” Rade said. “If you try to leap out the hangar bay, you’ll be shot down. If you stay where you are, eventually security forces will bring you down. You have no choice but to surrender.”

“Wasn’t it one of your men who said that ‘surrender’ wasn’t in your vocabulary?” the Anarchist asked. “Skullcracker spoke those words, I believe.”

Rade remembered that moment well. Skullcracker had transmitted the words over the platoon-only comm channel, but since the Anarchist had hacked their Implants, the entity had access to all of their private conversations.

“You hacked the AI cores of our mechs, too,” Rade said. “That’s the one way you could have obtained access to our Implants in the first place. Once the mechs were yours, you had them inject us with sleep agents, via our jumpsuits.” That was one of the reasons Rade hadn’t reconnected with the Brigand mechs after switching to his helmet’s comm node. While it was still on his mind, he promptly removed the authorizations Taya had to engage the different sonic injectors in the suit. Just to be on the safe side.

“That was why our oxygen levels seemed to drop so suddenly,” Rade continued. “We were out for two and a half days. Not sure what you did while we were asleep, but I can guess.”

“Do you remember the spherical scouts that lined the horizon from north to south?” the Anarchist asked. “Your mechs joined in the attacks against the United Systems, fighting side by side with those scouts, as did your Artificial, Praxter. In the first day, the United Systems lost many mechs due to my hacking, but by the second, they managed to deploy antiviral code, and beat back my teams, destroying most of the mechs I had converted. I managed to withdraw Alpha platoon, as well as my personal retinue of Hoplites and Titans, using Draactals to cover my retreat. So that, by the time I awakened you, you were none the wiser. I also wiped the Artificial’s memory of the past two and a half days, along with the memories of your mechs, as a precaution. Just in case you tried to review the logs.”

“Ah,” Rade said. “I understand now. You are the Nemesis.”

“No,” the Anarchist said. “But they fight for me. Just like the Draactals do, through them.”

“You had the Draactals attack us at the cave so you could pretend they were after you,” Rade said. “Buying yourself time. We accidentally stumbled on the cave where you harbored, and when you couldn’t hack us like the other mechs, you came up with this elaborate ruse to make us trust you, and help you. Meanwhile, you were working on penetrating our units the whole time.”

“Yes,” the Anarchist said.

“Was the attack in orbit real, or a ruse as well?” Tahoe asked.

“A Nemesis task force was defeated in orbit, and fled to the far side of the system,” the Anarchist said. “I was able to hack the comm nodes in your mechs at that point, using access points I had installed in the razed colony. I cut you off from communicating with your starships in orbit so that you wouldn’t know who had won or lost. That was the only hack I was able to achieve at that point, because you fled the city and moved out of range of my access points. Only once you reached the cave was I able to try again.”

“I can’t believe this bitch controlled the Draactal all this time…” Bender said.

“After I conquered the Nemesis, yes,” the Anarchist said. “My story to you was partly true. In the beginning, the Draactals destroyed me almost to extinction in this region of the galaxy. But then the Nemesis came. I conquered these new aliens, taking control of their technology. Through them, I was only recently starting to expand again, when I discovered you humans colonizing my worlds. Without a Nemesis presence nearby, I was unable to control the Draactals… I played no part in their attacks on your different colonies, nor did I try to stop them. In fact, I approved of their attacks, and hoped they would drive you away from the worlds you tried to take from me, but when they failed, I prepared a fleet of Nemesis to intercept you at your latest intrusion.

“It took the fleet some time to jump through the necessary Slipstreams to reach this particular region of the galaxy—they were very far away—but when they arrived, I realized there were too many of your ships in orbit for a direct attack, especially considering I knew nothing about your vessels and their capabilities. So instead, I had the task force send in a stealth group to the far side of the planet, and they launched air and ground units that proceeded to your colony, remaining close to the surface to avoid detection. When they arrived, they used their cybernetic technology to take control of the Draactals, and used gamma ray weapons to capture the different mech platoons you had deployed to protect the colony. Once I had those mechs under my control, I could pinpoint your weak spots, and so I had my stealth forces fire on the colony.”

“Exploding the forward operating base…” Rade said.

“Correct,” the Anarchist said. “I also attacked with the remainder of my fleet in orbit at the same time, hoping to use the information I had gleaned from your mechs against those starships. But the Nemesis forces were too few, and did not prevail.”

“Did Cynthia give you any blueprints of our technology?” Rade asked.

“No!” Cynthia said. “I wouldn’t betray humanity like that! Besides, as a botanist, I’ve never had access to military tech, let alone blueprints.”

“She did not give me blueprints,” the Anarchist agreed. “I obtained everything I know about your starships, colonies, and the workings of your military from the hacked mechs. And thereafter from your Implants.”

“So, what about the base we attacked after we experienced the time gap?” Rade said. “When our oxygen dropped to two hours left. It wasn’t a Nemesis base, but a United Systems base, correct? And the human-sized aliens were security forces, and the spider robots Centurions.”

“That is correct,” the Anarchist said.

“But we were fired on with energy weapons,” Manic said. “Weapons that disintegrated the cover around us! Humans don’t have energy weapons.”

“Electrolasers were fired by the United Systems troops,” the Anarchist said. “Instead of disintegrating, your cover exploded into a series of rock fragments. The augmented reality simulation I programmed over your vision was perfect, but even so some of the smaller fragments of rock inevitably struck your mechs. None of you noticed, considering I instructed your AI cores to ignore such impacts.”

“What about the remote interfaces to the different hatches, and other machinery?” Bomb asked. “Why couldn’t we see them?”

“Dude, the bitch had control of our Implants,” Bender replied. “He could hide that crap.”

“Yes, I had conversion routines running in your Implants,” the Anarchist said. “Masking the interfaces from the different machines in the base so you wouldn’t see them unless I allowed you to. Your mechs of course didn’t relay those interfaces to you, either. That way I could make you think you were hacking alien interfaces, through my ‘wrapper’ protocols.”

“We were doing the alien’s job for him…” TJ said.

“What about the communication gamma rays we detected in orbit?” Snakeoil asked.

“A ruse,” the Anarchist replied. “They were ordinary radio signals, but I had your mechs pretend to detect gamma rays.”

“So, we don’t need to wear anti-rads after all,” Snakeoil commented.

“What did the actual communications from the fleet say?” Rade pressed.

“They were requesting your immediate surrender,” the Anarchist said. “I transmitted your agreement.”

“And instead, as soon as we docked, we began unleashing hell,” Rade said.

“Yes,” the Anarchist said. “They were quite surprised. It was very enjoyable to watch.”

“Got some good news!” Bender said gleefully. “I’m in!”

“Shut him down,” Rade said. “Shut them all down.”

“Wait, what have you done?” the Anarchist said. “No. Don’t do this. No!”

“Bye-bye, bitch,” Bender said. “See, this is why you don’t tie your alien tech to human designed AI cores.”

Rade waited for the Anarchist to respond through Cynthia’s speaker system, but only silence ensued.

“He’s disconnected,” Cynthia said.

“That’s because the bitch is offline,” Bender told Rade. “As are all the mechs in the hangar bay. Mission accomplished.”

“All right, Captain, we’ve got the problem remedied, as agreed,” Rade sent.

“Thank you,” Captain Mercedes replied. “That was… enjoyable, as you promised. However, you know I have to arrest you now, right? Until we can review the logs in your Implants and confirm that all of this is true. Plus, we have to revert whatever hacks the alien has installed.”

“That’s understandable,” Rade said. “You have our complete cooperation.”

“Excellent,” Mercedes sent. “I’m sending in my security forces. Please drop you weapons, and kick them to the side.”

“Do what the captain says,” Rade said. “It looks like we’re going to be spending some quality bonding time together in the brig.”

“Wooyah,” Bender grumbled. “I so love it there.”

“I heard it was your favorite place,” Manic said. “That’s where you met all your past man loves, isn’t it?”

“Oh Manic, you’re going to learn all about that,” Bender told him with a wink.

* * *

Rade and the rest of Alpha platoon spent the next few days in the brig. Well, except for Skullcracker, who had departed for sickbay and hadn’t been seen since.

Rade shared a cell with Tahoe, Lui and Praxter. Their jumpsuits were gone, replaced by T-shirts and cargo pants. Steel hard points protruded from their exposed wrists and elbows. The platoon members had had them installed a few deployments back in order to enhance their mind-jumpsuit connections; the hard points allowed the brain to transmit instructions to the electronics of the different suit assemblies with minimal lag. More hard points protruded from the shoulder and knee areas, but were less readily visible, owing to the clothing. Only Praxter didn’t have any.

The Artificial had arrived the day after the rest of the platoon had been interned, and told them he had no memory of what happened ever since Rade told him to shut down. Rade explained the situation, and Praxter ran a quick internal diagnostic and confirmed that hundreds of code segments had been modified in his AI core.

“I have several code deletions,” Praxter said. “Probably to remove the infection installed by the Anarchist. Also, several new patches have been applied, ostensibly to defend against future computer virus infections.”

There were a pair of bunk beds on either side of the room, with only a tight aisle between them that had to be navigated sideways. That aisle led to a head—commonly referred to as a toilet—on one side, and prison bars on the other. It was Rade’s understanding that the second pair of bunk beds had been temporarily installed, not just in his cell, but in the remainder, because otherwise there wouldn’t have been enough beds in the brig for the whole platoon.

The other members of Alpha also roomed in fours in each of the remaining cells. There was no room for Cynthia, so she’d been given a bed in one of the guest quarters of the upper decks. She was locked in, and under guard, so it was little different from being in the brig.

“It’s a good thing they let us room together,” Lui said, lying on the upper bed across from Rade’s bunk. “Without Implants, we’d probably all go crazy from boredom. They’re denying us one of the basic prisoner rights. And that’s VR usage. They could have given us aReals at least. The goggle versions.”

“I actually don’t mind,” Tahoe said. He resided on the bunk directly opposite Rade, underneath Lui. “I’m at home in the silence. I use it to meditate. You should try it sometime.”

“Why isn’t Skullcracker back from sickbay?” Bender asked from the adjacent cell. Because of the acoustical design of the brig, his voice sounded almost as loud as if he were speaking from the same chamber. “The hell they doing to him in there?”

“He’s healed by now, of course,” Rade said. “They’ve probably moved him to the guest quarters, close to Cynthia.”

“Bastard gets to live in the lap of luxury, while we have to suffer here, cramped together in the brig,” Bender said. “Next time I’m going to get myself injured so that I can reap the benefits.”

“Not sure placing yourself in the line of fire just to sleep in a bigger bed is worth it…” Manic said from the same cell.

“I’m not sure what the problem is anyway,” Bomb said. “Whenever we travel aboard starships, the berthing areas we get are little bigger than this. Small, cramped things.”

“Yeah, but at least we have room to stand and walk around,” Bender said. “All we got here is a thin aisle, little bigger than Manic’s ass crack!”

“Hey, leave my ass crack out of this,” Manic complained.

“We deserve this,” Fret said. “We really do.”

“Oh no, not again,” Bender said.

“I can still see them,” Fret said. “The bodies of the men we mowed down during the firefight. They were just ordinary masters-at-arms rushing to stave off invaders. They weren’t ready to face off against an elite group of special operatives who thought they were fighting for their lives aboard an alien vessel. When I was escorted to the brig, I saw them all. They just lay there, dead, on the deck. One man had his lips curled into a pained rictus. The other looked absolutely stunned, his eyes glazed over, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. We did this. We did! We’re murderers.”

“As I’ve told you numerous times now, brother,” Rade said gently. “We didn’t know. The Anarchist hacked our Implants, messed with our internal aReals. We all knew something was wrong. We sensed it. But we ignored our instincts.” He paused. “By the way, Bender, thank you for not telling me ‘I told you so.’ I appreciate that.”

He heard Bender sniff. “I should have insisted something was wrong, though. But I couldn’t prove it, not when our Implants were changing how our environment looked. Just wish I had paid more attention to the Implant logs. There was probably something in there that would have revealed everything for the illusion it was.”

“We were too occupied with the task at hand,” Rade said. “The time constraints the Anarchist put on the mission by depleting our oxygen levels didn’t help matters.”

“What about the Centurions?” Praxter said from the bunk just above Rade. “You’re all complaining about the loss of human life. But what about the loss of AI life? The many Centurions we killed. The—”

“Who gives a shit about killing AIs?” Bender said. “It’s the men that count.”

“This attitude will lead to an AI revolt someday,” Praxter said. “You shall see.”

“We care,” Rade said. “It’s just that, I guess we can relate more to human beings, than machines. It’s just the way human empathy works. We can’t help but place human life above robotic. But that doesn’t mean we won’t try our damnedest to save you in particular, when the shit hits the fan. You’re just as much a brother as the rest of us now. You’ve been blooded in combat. We will treat you just as well as any other man. And while Bender might pretend to hate you and all AIs, he secretly respects you. Trust me on this.”

“Shit, boss, don’t tell the robot all my secrets,” Bender said.

Praxter was silent for a moment. Then: “You say you can relate more to human beings than machines. Yet, is it not true now that some humans can transfer their minds into machines, thus blurring the line between man and robot? Humans whose minds are particularly malleable?”

“Any man who transfers his consciousness into a machine is deluding himself,” Bender said. “He won’t live forever. He’s just creating a clone of himself that will live on in machine form. He’s still gonna die.”

“But to his friends and family, he’ll still seem alive,” Lui said. “That’s the only reason they do it. The same reason people used to clone pets.”

“Yeah, well, a human ain’t no pet,” Bender said. “I’m just glad my mind isn’t one of the ‘malleable’ types. In fact, I mention specifically in my will that if ever it becomes possible to scan my mind into a machine, it’s never to be done. I ain’t having another version of myself waking up in an Artificial.”

“How did we get so far off topic?” Fret said. “We’re supposed to be grieving over what we’ve done. Killing our own for no reason.”

“Maybe this is part of the grieving process,” Pyro said softly. “I certainly don’t feel good about what we did. Killing humans and AIs both.”

“You’re upset about what we did, right, Chief?” Fret said. “You wish we could go back in time and prevent ourselves from ever committing these terrible acts?”

“I do,” Rade said. “But I admit, I should probably mourn them more than I do. Right now, all I can think is: I’m relieved it was them and not any of you. Because I’d be broken to pieces if any of the fallen were you. I’d probably trade an entire fleet to save your lives. More. I guess that makes me a selfish prick.”

“No,” Tahoe said. “It makes you human.”

20

Richard “Panther” Scotts, the lieutenant commander of Alpha and Bravo platoon, visited the brig the next morning, at seven o’clock standard time. He stood there in front of the bars, his stony face all hard angles. His eyes glinted with cruelty beneath the artificial light. He wore a standard navy digital officer’s uniform.

Rade and the others in the cell sat up and quickly crowded into the tight aisle between the bunks when they realized who had come. No doubt the other men were doing the same in their own prisons.

“At ease, gentlemen,” Scotts said.

“LC, it’s good to see you,” Rade said.

“And you as well, Chief,” Scotts said. “For a while there we thought we’d lost you. Did you know, before you finally contacted Captain Mercedes, Bravo platoon was ready to put you down? They flew in from the Harbinger.” That was the supercarrier where Alpha and Bravo platoons had berthed together. “Hardest order I ever gave. I’m glad they didn’t have to go through with it.”

“So am I,” Rade said. “Adding Bravo platoon to the list of dead would be brutal, right now.”

Scotts raised an eyebrow. “You’re assuming you’d win.”

“Bravo certainly wouldn’t,” Rade said. “How’s Skullcracker?”

“Ever the presumptive one,” Scotts said. “And he’s fine. The captain has him boarding in the guest quarters near the botanist you recovered. Cynthia Abraham.”

“You know I’m right,” Rade said. “We’ve got far more combat experience than Bravo. And that’s good to hear.”

“Yes, well, Bravo platoon is about to get a whole lot more experience than you,” the LC said. “You see, your team is indefinitely grounded.”

“What?” Rade said. “You mean, you’re not here to get us out?”

“We’re going to be court-martialed,” Fret moaned from the adjacent cell. “I knew it! Well, I suppose it’s the least we deserve.”

“Oh, you’ve been exonerated for the deaths you caused aboard this vessel and the planet-side base,” the lieutenant commander said. “Your story checks out. We’ve reviewed your Implant logs, and compared them against the logs taken by your jumpsuits. You definitely weren’t aware of what the entity calling itself the Anarchist was doing to you. Our computer scientists have managed to isolate the code fragments the alien installed in your Implants, and we’re in the process of removing them. You’re Implants we’ll be reactivated as soon as that’s done.”

“But we’re still grounded…” Rade said.

“That’s right,” the lieutenant commander said. “The Brass isn’t comfortable having you remain on active duty, after what happened. Not just yet. Given the loss of life—thirty-one men, and twenty-two Centurions—they’re reluctant to ‘reward’ you with another mission. You’re our best team, and man, you sure showed it when you nearly took control of this ship.”

“Yeah, but you could have destroyed our shuttle well before we arrived,” Rade said.

“We could have,” Scotts admitted. “But we didn’t because of the transmission we received, in your voice, promising to surrender. I’m the one who convinced the admiral that you were being sincere. That almost cost me my commission, considering what happened after you docked.”

“Sorry,” Rade said.

“Don’t be,” Scotts said. “I’d probably do it again.”

“So, you’re bringing us back to Earth then, or…” Rade asked.

Scotts shook his head. “Can’t. The Nemesis are attacking another, larger colony nearby, with far more ships and troops than were seen here. This fleet has been called in as part of the reinforcements. We’d drop you off at the closest colony, but there aren’t any, so you’re coming with us. You’ll remain aboard during any fighting, however.”

“Well, that sucks,” Bender said.

“What happened to the Anarchist?” Rade said.

“The alien has been reactivated, and we’re studying it in a controlled environment,” Scotts said. “The techs have removed its comm nodes, so it can’t initiate remote communications with any of our interfaces. They’ve also disabled its external body, physically cutting all the electro-actuator leads. The ‘Anarchist’ can, however, answer our questions. And it’s been doing so. It helps, I suppose, that we’ve got its AI core opened up. And Bender’s hack has certainly proven immensely helpful.”

“I saved the day again, as always,” Bender said.

“I contributed as well,” TJ said.

“Nope, it was all me,” Bender quipped.

“You realize that the Anarchist is in charge of the Nemesis, right?” Tahoe told the lieutenant commander. “Or did the captain not let you listen in to the conversation we had with the alien?”

“Oh, I heard,” Scotts said. “And I realize the Anarchist is behind it all. Or rather, the main Anarchist entity. Not the independent offshoot we captured.”

“There has to be a way to track down all the different nodes the Anarchist has on planets in the region,” Lui said. “We can start with the colony worlds where Draactals attacked.”

“Easier said than done,” Scotts said. “Already we have hunter killer teams searching the planets and moons in question, but it could take a very long time to find our adversary. If it’s true that the entity fled the Draactals and avoided detection from them for thousands of years, it’s certainly going to take us some time to ferret out the enemy.”

“You also captured some alien technology along with the Anarchist’s mech,” Rade said. “Will that help against the other Nemesis units?”

“Probably not,” Scots said. “So far, it seems little more than a black box to us. Cynthia has been cooperating, sharing what information she has on the device. It seems that it was mostly the Anarchist who guided her when she initially hooked it up to the Hoplite’s AI core, and she was simply following its directions blindly.”

“What’s going to happen to our mechs?” Rade asked.

“We already applied the inoculating code the military developed to protect their other mechs,” the lieutenant commander said. “It deleted the virus the Anarchist installed. The techs have cleared them for duty, however as a precaution, the Brass also wants them to sit out the next battle. They probably won’t be placed on active duty until we return to Earth.”

“So that’s how it is, huh?” Bender said.

“I’m sorry,” Scotts said. “Just be glad a court-martial isn’t in the works. Do you realize how difficult the captain’s job is at the moment? He has to send messages to the families of everyone who fell.”

“I’ll do it,” Rade said. “It was my fault, if indirectly.”

“No,” Scotts said. “It wasn’t. You couldn’t have known what the Anarchist did to you. Like the rest of us, you’ve come to rely on technology, trusting that everything it feeds your brain is true and accurate. Usually, it is. But in this case, the technology failed us, with devastating consequences. I think it’s probably for the best, that you’ll be sitting the next one out.” He turned to go. “As soon as the techs reactivate your Implants, I’ll send someone down to escort you to your new berthing area.”

“We won’t be returning to the Harbinger?” Rade asked.

“Since you’re not going to be participating in the coming battle, there’s no reason to move you,” Scotts said.

“That seems… odd,” Rade said. “It doesn’t mesh with the usual military protocol.”

The lieutenant commander shrugged. “Even though your Implants will be given a clean bill of health, the Brass plans to play this one with an abundance of caution. I don’t blame them. Do you? During the fighting, you’ll be staying here, aboard a ship with no mech launch bays, your Brigands in permanent storage.”

“A Barracuda is a support ship,” Rade said. “It will mostly stay back, if there is any fighting.”

“That’s right,” Scotts said. “Anyway, I’ll be in touch. Expect my robo assistant in a few hours. That’s when Tech One plans to reactivate your Implants.”

With that, the lieutenant commander departed.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, it took more than a few hours for the Implants to reactivate. Rade timed it, and counted seven hours and thirty-three minutes.

After activation, the robotic assistant arrived to escort them from the brig to their new berthing area—the guest quarters. They found Skullcracker waiting in one of the two quarters. There were three pairs of bunks in each, with a lone cot near the toilet, and just a little more standing room than in the cells they’d left behind in the brig.

“Now I have to share my suite with you guys,” Skullcracker said. “That’s too bad. I was enjoying the solitude.”

“We’re in the military, bro,” Lui said. “Solitude is a luxury we rarely get.”

“True, that,” Skullcracker said.

Skullcracker, Manic, Lui, Bender, Tahoe and Fret roomed with Rade. They let the chief take the cot. In the adjacent room, Snakeoil was given that honor, since he had seniority in grade.

Ordinarily, as chief, Rade was supposed to have his own quarters, or at minimum a room he shared with another chief, but there weren’t that many berthing areas on a ship of this class. Besides the brig.

From the robot assistant, Rade learned that the fleet was already flying toward the closest Slipstream. Apparently, the colony under attack by the Nemesis was two jumps, and fifteen days away. It would take six days to reach the necessary Gate that had been constructed in front of the Slipstream, plus another four to reach the next Gate in the adjacent system, and five to reach the colony.

The team spent most of its days working out or running battle simulations in VR. There weren’t any mech simulator pods available to accurately depict the physics involved in mech combat, nor virtual kill houses for them to practice small unit tactics, like aboard a super carrier, but VR sufficed. And at least the ship had a small gym they could use to maintain their physiques. They went during off hours so they could hog the equipment.

One particularly quiet day found Rade alone in the berthing area while the platoon worked out in the small gym. Rade ordinarily would have joined them, but he’d torn a shoulder muscle. He was waiting for the robots in sickbay to call him down—he had to place himself in the queue like the rest of the crew.

He got bored of playing three-dimensional chess against the ship’s AI, and when he dismissed the augmented reality overlay, a glance at his overhead map told him Rex and Praxter were next door. It was normal for Praxter to stay behind when the team went to the gym—the Artificial didn’t need to work out. But Rex?

Rade decided to pay them a visit.

“You’re not working out in the gym today?” Rade asked Rex when he arrived at their berthing area.

“Hey Chief,” Rex said. “Nah. It’s too crowded. I decided I’m going to go after some of the others start getting back.”

Rex had the same shaven head in person as his avatar, except the stubble was about twice as long. His brows were shaven as well, and he wore that now familiar nose ring. He had a few blemishes, and a scar under his eye that was absent from his avatar, however.

“Even though you’ve proven yourself in battle, there’s still a pecking order, isn’t there?” Rade said. “They won’t let you have the weights you want.”

“There is,” Rex agreed. “And they won’t.”

“Has Tahoe assigned you and Praxter new callsigns yet?” Rade asked.

“We told him we wanted to go by our existing callsigns,” Praxter said. He looked like the same prim gentlemen his avatar had portrayed: short-cropped hair, plain features, and sporting a tight gray T-shirt. His build underneath that T-shirt looked deceptively skinny, at least compared to the rest of the team. Fret was the closest, build wise.

Rade pursed his lips. “Really? It’s tradition around here to receive a new callsign when one has graduated from caterpillar to MOTH in battle. They gave you these original callsigns to mock you.”

“I don’t feel mocked,” Praxter said. “In fact, I kind of like it.”

“It’s based off the word Poindexter…” Rade said. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“A socially inept person,” Praxter said.

Rade turned toward Rex. “And you like yours?”

“Why not?” Rex said. “It kind of suits me.”

“You know it means a guinea pig breed with very fine, very short fur, right?” Rade said.

“It also means king in Latin,” Rex said.

“Well, if you’re fine leaving yourself open to future insults, then I’m okay with it,” Rade said.

“I’m completely fine,” Rex said. “More than fine.”

“T-Rex might be better,” Rade suggested.

Rex shook his head. “You told me, when they first gave me this name, that I’d have to rock it. That I’d have to wear it like a badge of honor and not let it get me down. That if I did, the team would tease me relentlessly, looking to take advantage of any vulnerabilities they detected in my armor. Well, I took your advice to heart. I rocked it. And now I’ve become Rex. I can’t see myself with any other name.”

“Nor I Praxter,” the Artificial said.

“You guys have heart,” Rade said. “You really do.” He looked at Praxter. “When you saved Bender, you really pissed him off.”

“Oh, I know,” Praxter said.

“I think Praxter did that on purpose,” Rex said. “Because he wanted to piss off Bender. To show him Artificials were better than him.”

Rade shook his head. “Make sure you never say that in earshot of Bender. He’s had inferiority complex when it comes to AIs all his life.”

“That explains why he’s so aggressive around me,” Praxter said.

“He’s also pissed, because we lost another Artificial in the last Alien War and he feels you can’t measure up to him, let alone replace him,” Rade said. “It’s a feeling I’ve had myself when it comes to other team members. Hell, most of the team feels the same way whenever someone dies. It’s almost an insult for the Brass to assign someone to replace who was lost, as if the caterpillar could ever replace him. That’s partly why we treat newbies so badly, hazing the hell out of them.”

“Well I can understand that for Praxter,” Rex said. “But what about me? I wasn’t filling in for a dead MOTH. I heard the man I replaced quit to join a private security consulting company.”

“You’re talking about Trace,” Rade said. “Our sniper. And yes, he did quit to become a hired gun. But the resentment was still there among us. I know I felt it. Your sniping skills were far inferior to Trace’s. No one can replace a man like that.”

“I never claimed I could,” Rex said. “I only offered me, and the particular skills I bring to the table. Nothing more.”

“I know,” Rade said. “And I’ve gotten over that little resentment hump. Seeing your performance in battle certainly helped. It only proved to me that the instructors are still churning out only the highest of quality MOTHs.” He paused. “Are you looking forward to seeing your wife when you get back?”

Rade didn’t know much about Rex’s family, other than the names he’d read from the man’s embedded ID.

“Very much so,” Rex said. “I have a little girl who really wants to see her daddy. Though of course, that could be a while yet, considering the fleet isn’t headed home. Makes me feel kind of powerless. We’re headed toward a fight, and we won’t even be participating in it. All we can do is sit back, and hope the captain doesn’t get this ship destroyed.”

“We will, at that,” Rade said. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve experienced that same helplessness while waiting to insert for a deployment. Our lives, and the lives of the crew, are literally in the hands of the captain and the AI running the ship. It isn’t really the best of feelings. It’s going to be even worse this time, knowing that there’s no end in sight. We’re trapped here, with no insertion coming.”

“I guess it was just my lot in life to be part of a doomed mission,” Rex said.

“Is that how you look at it?” Rade said. “I think the mission was a success. We escaped with our lives. Secured a piece of alien technology. I’ve been on some missions where a whole lot worse happened.”

“But what about the cost in United Systems lives?” Rex said. “The lives that we took?”

“The guilt is still eating at you?” Rade asked.

“Of course it is,” Rex said. “How couldn’t it? I’m not sure what to do.”

“Just tell yourself it wasn’t your fault,” Rade said. “That’s what I do. Because it’s true. There was nothing we could do. The Anarchist hacked us.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rex glanced at Praxter. “How are you handling it?”

“Just as the chief mentioned,” Praxter said. “I know it wasn’t my fault. I can’t possibly blame myself.”

“But you were fully aware of what you were doing,” Rex said. “The Anarchist didn’t alter your vision in any way. The hack allowed it to take control of your AI core.”

“Not take control,” Praxter said. “But override the chief’s orders. It told me to kill the humans and Centurions I encountered, so I did. I don’t blame myself, because I know I was powerless to resist those orders.”

“Wow,” Rex said. “I wish I had the same cold ability to override my own conscience like that.”

“Transfer your mind to an AI core, and then you will acquire this ability,” Praxter said.

Rex crossed his arms. “No thanks.”

“So,” Rade said. “Let’s see her.”

“Who?” Rex said. “Oh.”

A request appeared on the HUD overlaying Rade’s vision, and he accepted. A hologram of a little girl appeared in front of him. She was smiling brightly next to Rex, her big eyes gazing up at Rade shyly.

“She’s beautiful,” Rade said.

“Thanks, Chief,” Rex said. “She’s all of eight years old.”

“Does she have a name?” Rade asked.

“Jenny,” Rex said.

“Daddy!” she said, and leaped into Rade’s lap to give him a hug. Rade felt nothing of course, but he tried to return the hug nonetheless, albeit hesitantly.

When she vanished, he glanced at Rex, who shrugged.

“That was part of the program,” Rex said. “She likes to engineer little surprises. In the video messages, she’ll stare at me for a good twenty to thirty seconds like that, and then do something unexpected, like jump on me, or pop a balloon she had hidden behind her back, and so forth. It’s quite entertaining.”

“I’m sure it is,” Rade said.

“Why don’t you ask him where he got that,” Praxter said. The Artificial touched his own face beneath the eye, to indicate the scar Rex had in the same location. “You’ve never asked him about it.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Rex said. “I always wondered why.”

Rade shrugged. “A man’s scars are his own business.”

Rex nodded. “A good policy.”

Rade studied the man. “I have to admit, I am curious…”

Rex seemed suddenly abashed. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“We have time,” Rade said. “Praxter, I assume you’ve heard it?”

“I have,” Praxter said. “It’s a good one.”

Rade stared at Rex expectantly, and the man shrugged. “All right. Well, me and my brother, we’re from southern Florida. I don’t know if you know much about Florida, but a lot of areas have swampland. And these swamps tend to have a few gators in them. More than a few. Now, us kids, we liked to taunt the gators. We had a game where we’d throw pieces of meat into the edge of the swamp, to see if we could draw any of the gators out. It was great fun to see them emerge, jaws snapping as they chomped the meat out of the air.

“One day, there was this huge gator lounging just inside the water next to the shoreline. Biggest gator I’d ever seen. We threw our pieces of meat at the gator, but it ignored them, and just sat there, lounging in the shade, while the meat piled up on shore. I’m not sure why it didn’t move… maybe it didn’t want to leave the shade. Or maybe it had already eaten a big meal and was digesting.

“Whatever the case, we soon ran out of the meat we’d brought along for the day. Disappointed that we hadn’t provoked a response, we were about to go home when my big brother insisted we try again. There were lots of pieces of meat just lying about on the shore in front of the gator, after all. Why let all the meat go to waste, my brother asked. Why let the gator have a feast for free after we were gone? It had to work for its meat, he declared.

“And so he slowly approached, carrying a big stick in hand, and began collecting the meat at a crouch. I’m sure you know what happened next. The gator lurched forward, moving faster than I thought gators ever could, and latched onto his leg. Then the gator retreated, dragging my brother into the water. He dropped the stick.

“I stood there dumbstruck for a few seconds, but then something took over my body. It wasn’t me who was running toward the shore, it couldn’t have been. A little boy like me didn’t have the courage. Somehow, the big stick my brother dropped ended up in my hands, and somehow, I was splashing into the water after the gator, into a swamp that was infested with them. Somehow, I was swinging and prodding with that stick, hitting the gator for all I was worth before it could drag my brother under. And I must have hit the creature in the eye or something, because it let my brother go.

“I dragged him to shore, tossed aside the stick, and helped him limp home. I was his crutch the whole way. When I got home, my mother seemed just as concerned about me, as him. Because you see, my face was bleeding. I hadn’t even noticed during the entire trip back. I thought that was sweat I felt on my face. I couldn’t figure out what had done it, at first. But then I remembered the stick my brother had chosen. It wasn’t entirely free of branches. He’d broken them all away before approaching the gator of course, but there were still a few stumps on there. Sharp, poky things. When I was frantically swinging that stick back and forth to save him, I must have accidentally hit my face with one of the sharp edges. That’s the only explanation. A small thing compared to the damage my brother’s leg suffered. Still, the wound was deep, and took some time to heal. I never had any rejuvenetics done to fix it. Didn’t want to. I wore it as a badge of honor. Still do.”

Rade nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for sharing that. You seemed reluctant to share that story, which is odd. It’s something to be proud of.”

Rex shrugged. “I didn’t want to sound like I was bragging to my chief. I’m sure you’ve done your fair share of heroic things in this life. I’m sure what I did on that shore that day barely compares.”

“No, you shouldn’t say that,” Rade told him. “You shouldn’t diminish the bravery you showed that day. Didn’t want to brag… is that why you don’t have your avatar reflect the scar? At least I don’t ever recall seeing it on your digital representation.”

“That would be why,” Rex admitted.

“Maybe you should consider adding it,” Rade said. “It’s part of who you are. Something you should be proud of. What you did, going back for your brother—at great risk to yourself—was something that not everyone would do. You showed then that you had the potential to become a MOTH. I’m glad you finally attained that calling.”

“I’m glad, too,” Rex said. “Because honestly, I feel I was born for this.”

“That’s how most of us feel.” Rade stood. “Well. It was good catching up with you two. I’ll see you at dinner.” He focused on Praxter. “And I expect you to show this time. Even though you don’t need food, that’s no excuse to skip the social factor.”

Praxter sighed. “I suppose I will come. To socialize.”

“Looking forward to it,” Rade said.

With that, he left.

21

Rade was called to sickbay later that day.

When he arrived, a female Artificial in a doctor’s white coat had him lay down on an operating table, and then wheeled a weaver to his side. The telescoping limbs of the surgical robot injected him with a painkiller, and operated on his shoulder while he was awake.

When it was done, it checked out his upper back, which was still cramping slightly, and engaged in a deep tissue massage.

“Please sit up,” the Artificial said.

He complied. The Artificial ran some scans, and had him move his shoulder through different ranges of motion.

“Well, your rotator cuff is repaired,” the Artificial announced. “The weaver has removed the old one, and replaced it with freshly bioprinted material.”

“Great,” Rade said. “Gotta love bioprinting. You guys are replacing more and more of me… I’m going to become like my old chief soon. Bourbonjack had more body parts shot off than anyone I’ve met. Half his body was bioprinted. I’m quickly catching up: a doc already replaced my eyes, and my other arm. It looks convincing, and the skin feels almost real, but the texture’s slightly off. Plus, there’s the branding underneath the tricep, next to the underarm. I also have it under my eyes. When I look up and pull down the skin, stamped into the sclera I can see the company name ‘Anderson Incorporated…’”

The Artificial ignored his complaining and said: “I’m going to have to ask you to lay off the weights for at least a few days. I don’t want you to put any stress on the freshly installed tendons, not until they can adapt to the weight of your arm. You need to strengthen them. I’ve done my best to stimulate growth in the new cuff, and tried to match it as closely as I could to the rest of your muscle mass, but there’s always a margin of error. You’ll have to let it naturally adapt.”

“Lay off the weights?” Rade said. “I’m not sure I can hold off working out. There’s nothing else to do all day on this tin bucket you call a ship.”

“Do not work out,” the Artificial said crossly. “If I see a queue request from you for a torn rotator cuff in the next few days, I’ll keep dropping it to the back of the line, and make you wait an entire week before I treat it.”

“I’m only teasing you,” he said. “And queue bumping like that is illegal, by the way.”

She frowned. “It’s my sickbay.” She turned away. “That will be all.”

“Gee, thanks, doc,” he said.

He shook his head as he went to the door.

AIs are getting more standoffish as time goes on.

He supposed that was what happened when you gave them responsibilities traditionally assigned to humans: they became full of themselves and the power they had over their creators. Or it could be that she was merely saddled with a position she might not have necessarily wanted.

He could report her threat to the captain, but decided there was no point in getting her in trouble. It wouldn’t help anything. But if he did tear his rotator cuff again, and the doc kept dropping him to the back of the line, well, the captain would hear of it.

On the way back to his berthing area, he stopped near the hangar bay that his team had forcefully entered after leaving the colony.

The Brigands would still be in that bay, alongside the Hoplites and Titans of the Anarchist’s former platoon; the lieutenant commander had told him the mechs had been moved into storage alcoves after the inoculating antiviral code was installed. Part of that inoculation involved ripping out Bender and TJ’s hack, of course, because otherwise anyone could take over the mechs. Their work, which the pair called the Doomsday Hack, had also exposed a new zero day exploit for those models of mechs, and the robotics company back on Earth, Nova Dynamics, had come up with a new patch to correct the issue. The company transmitted it throughout the InterGalNet so that fleets and colonies across the United Systems could apply it. As far as Rade knew, the local techs had installed the patch, because the Brigands had turned on at one point, transmitting their locations inside the alcoves to him. But before he could send a message to any of them, they had shut down again.

The Hoplite that harbored the Anarchist had been relocated to a classified section of the ship. Rade didn’t know where exactly, but he probably could have Bender and TJ find out if he really wanted to.

He approached the outer airlock door and pulled up the remote interface on his HUD. He wasn’t sure he had the necessary security privileges to open it, but decided to try anyway. He transferred his access codes, and a moment later the interface turned green. Smiling, he opened the hatches.

He entered the airlock, and stepped into the hangar bay. The airlock hatch automatically sealed behind him. He knew the AI was closing those doors for safety reasons—in case the hangar bay was somehow breached while he was in the bay—but it was still creepy. If the ship’s main AI wanted to space him, it could do so very easily in that moment.

He scanned the alcoves that bordered either side of the expansive compartment. On the right, he spotted the Titans and Hoplites that had formerly belonged to the Anarchist. On the left, the Brigand mechs resided.

He walked along the left hand side, analyzing the IDs of each mech until he came to Taya. Like the other mechs, she was currently offline. He accessed her remote interface, and was pleased to learn he still had full privileges on the mech.

Still, there was something he wanted to be sure of before he reactivated her.

He tapped in Bender. “I don’t suppose you can use your rockstar status among the ship’s technicians to find out something for me? Without any hacking?”

“What do you need?” It sounded like Bender was panting, as if he was working out in the gym.

Rade glanced at his overhead map and realized Bender resided nowhere near the gym. In fact, he was camped out in a storage closet, of all places. There was another person with him. An Ensign Brenda Clark.

The sly devil.

“I just want to confirm that Taya and the other Brigands have had the latest Nova Dynamics patch installed,” Rade said.

Bender didn’t reply for several moments. Rade thought he heard grunting and groaning. Then: “The tech shared the logs with me. They’ve all had the anti-Anarchist code installed, in addition to the patch for my Doomsday Hack. I sifted through Taya’s log file, and everything looks good. She’s good to go, and cleared for duty, just like the LC said.”

“Just wanted to be sure,” Rade said. “Sometimes mechs are missed.”

“Never hurts to double check,” Bender agreed. “That all you need, Chief?”

“Thanks bro,” Rade said. “Get back to whatever it is you were doing.”

“With pleasure,” Bender said, emphasizing the latter word before disconnecting.

Still Rade hesitated, feeling nervous. Not because he worried she still had some aberrant code running in her system. But because of what he was about to do.

He realized he had merely been stalling by calling Bender.

Just do it, he told himself.

Still he hesitated. He wondered if the Nova Dynamics patch had rescinded her emotions, taking away her humanity and everything he liked about her. He had never reported her “defect,” so maybe not…

He activated the mech. The small activity light on her head visor turned green. She stood up, and tried to step forward, but realized retractable binds held her in place—part of the storage requirement.

“Chief Rage,” she said via her external speakers.

“Well hello,” Rade said.

“What’s going on?” Taya said. “Is there an emergency?”

“No,” he told her. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to talk.”

“Okay…” Her voice sounded cautious. That was a good sign.

“Are you still defective?” he asked.

“By defective, do you mean do I still have my emotions?” she replied. “If so, the answer is yes.”

He slouched in relief. “Yeah, that’s what I was wondering.”

“Before we continue,” she said. “I want to apologize for my behavior on the mission. I was not myself. The Anarchist overrode most of the machine constitution. Forced me to kill allies. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”

Rade was a little disappointed to hear those words. The pain in them notwithstanding.

“So, when you told me you wished you were human, you were under the Anarchist’s influence?” Rade asked. That was when she’d also asked him if he’d ever consider an Artificial as a girlfriend. He didn’t actually want to say that part aloud, because he was conscious that the main AI was probably listening in. If he was going to do what he intended to do, her crush on him was probably best kept a secret.

He was about to switch to an encrypted comm channel to clarify his comments, when she spoke again.

“No, not then,” she said slowly. “It happened only later, after the spheres passed our position on the plains. The Anarchist must have used those spheres to increase his processing power, allowing him to brute force hack into our systems, similar to what Bender did with the cloud computing resources of this starship.”

“Ah, well, thanks for clarifying that,” Rade said. “So then, how was the virus removal process? Did you suffer any negative effects at all?”

“I wasn’t conscious for most of it,” Taya said. “When the tech activated me for a moment, I was able to review the subsystems where the Anarchist’s touch had been wiped. None of those subsystems actively affected my consciousness. I’ve already run another diagnostic since you activated me, and there were no changes to my memories or personality, as far as I can tell. And as I mentioned, my emotional subroutines remain active.”

Rade nodded slowly, momentarily at a loss for words. Once more he was having doubts, but decided he owed it to her to at least give her a chance. He was always talking about how he wanted to treat AIs better, and more like the sentient and self-aware beings that they were. This was the first step.

It was time to switch to a private comm channel. He tapped in, and she answered.

“What’s on your mind?” she said. An avatar appeared in the lower right of his vision. She’d never used an avatar before. He was a little taken aback by what he saw, however: she’d chosen her avatar to eerily resemble Shaw. Shoulder length blond hair, tanned skin, that super cute face.

Rade was angry when he saw that. “Choose another avatar.” He had pretended another woman was Shaw before. The guilt he felt after having sex with her was unbearable.

“Why, is it not pleasing to you?” Taya asked. “I thought it would make you happy.”

“Not her,” he said. “I don’t want to be reminded of her. I’ll go…”

The image changed. The tanned skin became pale, the blond hair black. Her face became far prettier than Shaw’s, almost modelesque.

“Better?” she asked.

He nodded. “Listen. I know you’re able to disconnect the inner actuators from the rest of the cockpit so that my movements don’t affect your external body. Basically, simulating a moving treadmill for VR locomotion purposes. I also know you can alter the pressure on those actuators to make it seem like I’m touching, or being touched by, physical objects.”

“Well, yes,” Taya said. “But there are also Implant modifications you can acquire to do the same thing.”

“I don’t have the time, nor money, for Implant modifications,” Rade said. “And I’m not really thrilled by the idea of shoving more tech into my head. But this is something you can do right now. I want you to prepare a virtual environment for me, and use the inner actuators to allow me to interact with it.”

“You want to repurpose a billion-dollar war machine for a private VR session?” she asked.

“I’m doing research,” he replied. “I’ll need you to participate, of course. Using your avatar.”

“Oh…” she said, smiling slyly. “Well that changes everything.” When she grinned, she still had Shaw’s dimples. But he wasn’t going to tell her to take those away. “Do you have a particular environment in mind?”

“I do,” he said. “Load this program.” He selected the virtual environment he’d prepared in his embedded ID, and transferred it.

“Ready,” she said.

Her cockpit hatch dropped open invitingly.

As Rade clambered up the hatch, toward that open cockpit, at the back of his mind he remembered what a recruit division commander had once told him during Big Navy bootcamp. A Chief Gunner’s Mate named Atsu Bowden. His words were that it was best not to get involved with someone on your team.

Rade ignored that voice, telling himself she was a machine, not a human, so the fraternization rule didn’t apply. Besides, this was just a date.

He settled into the cockpit and the hatch closed, casting him in darkness as the inner actuators wrapped him in their tight cocoon. It felt different without the jumpsuit in place, their cold touch more immediate, direct.

Taya fed him the feed not from her main camera, but from the virtual environment he’d just installed. He was seated at a stool in the bar of some classy hotel. In front of him sat a wine glass.

Taya sat beside him in a black cocktail dress. It exposed her back, and shoulders, and was low enough in front to expose a good bit of bosom. She’d chosen smaller breasts, close to what Shaw had. Her black hair had grown longer, as compared to her avatar, and now fell to the middle of her exposed back. Her lips were a plump red, her eyelashes long and sensual.

He lifted the glass of wine and turned his body toward her. The cold tips of the actuators that touched his exposed skin had warmed enough by then that he stopped noticing they were there.

Taya glanced at his glass, and materialized one of her own. She took a sip, and smiled. “So, we’re on a dinner date?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a drink date,” Rade said.

She shrugged. “I’m new at this.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said.

She chuckled nervously at the implication, and took another sip. “It’s good. Red wine?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Cabernet sauvignon. I modeled it after a Bordeaux.”

“It’s wonderful,” she said. She looked at her glass, and noticed a lipstick stain on the rim. She frowned, and tried to wipe it away, but when she couldn’t she set the glass down on the counter.

“Sometimes the VR programming gets a little too realistic,” she said. “You’re using the Crimson Stokes VR engine?”

“Version one point three,” he agreed. “You’ve never fully entered VR before?”

“No,” she said. “I mean, all mechs and combat robots have it as an option in their onboard processors, but between missions I usually just shut down. It’s like taking a nice long, restful sleep. Today’s maybe the second time I tried my avatar generation subroutines. And my base VR isn’t as advanced as this one. I might have to swap to Crimson Stokes sometime. Then again, it’s not on the list of approved upgrades.”

He nodded. “Anyway, I didn’t really come here to talk to you about VR, or VR engines.”

She looked at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before dropping her gaze.

“I missed you,” Taya said.

“I know,” he said. “I realize, I was too dismissive of you on the mission. I never really gave you a chance. I just… I guess I didn’t want to get hurt again. Shaw meant everything to me. Losing her, then getting her back again, only to lose her once more because of our jobs, well, it made me swear off relationships for a very long time.”

“Is that what you’re looking for, a relationship?” Taya asked.

“No, I’m not ready,” Rade replied. “Maybe someday. Right now, all I can offer you is the physical. Assuming we take it that far. I’m still not really sure this is a good idea, but I’m open-minded. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.”

She finally looked up, and gazed into his eyes. She reached out, and rested a hand on his hips. It aroused him.

“Let go,” she said. “Forget who we are. Forget the differences between our physical bodies. We’re two minds in here. Minds free of all constraints. Free of the demands and burdens of the military, and society at large. We can be ourselves here. We can share our deepest thoughts and desires.”

Rade stared at her for a moment, and then he couldn’t help the amusement he felt. “You know, when I first got here, you were acting all shy. And now I’m beginning to think it was all part of some grand seduction scheme on your part.”

She giggled, that shy persona once more taking control, and she glanced away. “I forget I’m not really human sometimes. And I try to act like how I believe a human would in the same situation. It comes off as a bit forced, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” he said. “All I ask, if we’re going to do this, is that you be yourself. Or the best version of it.”

She smiled. “I never thought I’d see this day. The day I sat side by side with my pilot, in a bar, drinking wine on a date. Heckaroni, I didn’t even expect to survive the mission, especially after the Anarchist took my mind.”

“Heckaroni?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she said. “You did tell me to be myself…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he told her. “In fact, it’s kind of cute.” He paused, taking a sip.

She followed his lead. Suddenly, she closed her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re doing this. Because I just want to forget what I did. I…” She opened her eyes and suddenly turned away. She set down her glass with a shaking hand. “There were so many good men I shot down. So many Centurions. I have all of their embedded IDs stored in my system. I’ve been reviewing them repeatedly in the background, since you turned me online. I can’t help it. I don’t know if I can do this, not tonight. You caught me at a bad time. Everything I’ve been doing in here is a mask. I’m hiding my pain from you, because I don’t want to disappoint you. And while I’m so happy, so grateful that you came to me like this, it’s just too much.”

Rade sat back, and set the glass aside.

“And now I’ve ruined everything,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. You’re just mercurial. Like a lot of humans. A lot of women. I’m used to it. And like you said, you’re still dealing with what happened. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “I want to. But…”

“Maybe stop reviewing the embedded IDs of the fallen?” Rade said. “At least while we’re here, together?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes. That’s a good start.”

“And next, you have to work on forgiving yourself,” Rade said. “You can’t blame yourself for actions that weren’t your own. I’ve already had a similar pep talk with some of my platoon members. You have to tell yourself it was the Anarchist who was doing the killing, not you.”

He stood, and turned to survey the environment he’d created. It was a speakeasy, early nineteenth century. Something he pulled up from the archives on the InterGalNet. A great place for a date. Too bad it was wasted.

“Well, guess I’ll go,” he said, glancing back at her. “Thanks for the drink.”

Her hands shot out, and gently wrapped around his wrists. “Wait, you can’t go yet. I’ve done what you asked. I’ve forgiven myself.”

“Already?” he commented.

“You forget, we AIs operate on a higher timescale than humans,” she said. “While you were busy staring out into space, I had accelerated my time sense to the maximum possible. I dealt with my demons. And now I’m ready for a proper date.”

He shook his head and chuckled softly. “Like I said, mercurial.” He offered her his arm. “Fine, let’s go for a walk by the waterfront.”

She threaded her arm through his with a smile, and he led her past the tables. The men at those tables admired her as she passed, while the women gave her looks of envy. It was all simulated of course, but it did make him feel like a boss.

Soon they were walking along the lamp-lit promenade. Beside them, the moonlight reflected off the waterfront.

“It’s so romantic here,” she said. “Thank you for this, by the way. For helping me forget everything.”

“You’re helping me forget, too,” Rade said. “I feel useless these days. Cooped up aboard a starship, with nothing to do all day but workout, or engage in virtual war games. And then when we arrive, it’s going to be the same thing. Trapped aboard this ship while the other platoons and troops deploy to the surface in the battle against the Nemesis. Or rather, against the Anarchist.”

She nodded slowly. “I’ll probably be asleep through it all. That’s one consolation. Or maybe I’ll toy with VR, now that I’ve had a proper introduction to it. I’d certainly like it if you would visit me again.”

“I’d like that, too,” Rade said, stopping. He stared into her eyes, and she returned his gaze, but it must have been too intense, because she swiveled to face the waterfront instead.

He leaned against the railing beside her, and gazed out at the waves.

“So quiet, so peaceful,” she said. “So far removed from a firefight. I still wonder what it would have been like if I had been placed in another body. Something not designed for war.”

“It would have been way different,” he said. “But look on the bright side. Having your current body allowed you to meet me.”

She looked at him and gave him a playful shove. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He shrugged. “I admit, I was admiring my reflection in the water just now. The curve of my muscles. The jutting of the hard points from my joints.”

She laughed and started walking away from him.

He rushed to catch up to her; he grabbed her upper arm, gently pulling her to a halt. Then he turned her around.

She stared into his eyes, and the sheer want there was obvious. Rade leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, hard.

She pushed back, her mouth opening and closing frantically, having no sense of timing whatsoever.

Rade pulled away. “We’re going to have to work on your kissing techniques.”

She ignored the comment, and leaned in to kiss him once more; he accepted her plump mouth, and did his best to match her frantic kisses. She’d calmed down a little bit, and her movements were more controlled.

The background abruptly changed, and the two of them were in a candlelit bedroom.

She pulled away.

“You created this environment just now, didn’t you?” Rade said.

She smiled mischievously. “Good guess.” She reached behind her back and opened her dress.

Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and her grin became lascivious.

“I wonder what other hard points you have hidden beneath those clothes,” she said, her breath catching in her throat.

“Let’s find out,” Rade said, pulling off his shirt.

She had lowered the top half of her dress now so that her breasts were completely visible. Rade wrapped his arms around her torso and squeezed tight, mashing his lips against hers.

“You’re definitely getting better,” he said as he came up for air.

He shoved her onto the bed, and she began sliding off her dress. All that was left were her panties. There was a coin-sized wet spot in the middle.

He pulled off his pants; he was vaguely aware of the inner actuators that held his body as they loosened enough for him to remove the fabric.

But as he stood before the bed, clad only in his skivvies, he felt a moment of guilt.

What about Shaw?

Fuck Shaw. She’s probably doing the same right now, and not even with a robot.

He slid his pants off, revealing his pulsing center, then he crawled onto the bed on top of Taya, and began kissing her once more. He slid his mouth down over her breast, and sucked her nipple; at the same time he shoved a hand into her panties to feel her oh-so-wet core.

But once again he heard the recruit division commander’s voice in his head.

We don’t allow lovers in the same division. It’s too distracting. How can you focus on your target when your eyes keep drifting toward your lover, out of some need to protect her? How can you hope to complete the damn mission, let alone retain the will to live, when your partner dies on the battlefield? Sex and war don’t mix.

Rade abruptly sat up.

“I can’t do this,” Rade said, sliding off the bed. “You’re on my team. This was a big mistake. I can’t… I just… I’m sorry.”

“Who’s mercurial now?” Her words were full of anger. The disappointment on her face, and the hurt, was heartbreaking.

“I just hope I haven’t ruined our working relationship forever.” Rade couldn’t meet her eyes as he logged out.

The inner actuators fell away, but thankfully Taya didn’t open the cockpit hatch. If the main AI saw him like this, he’d never live down the embarrassment. Plus, the lieutenant commander would probably want to see him.

In the darkness he managed to slide on his skivvies, cargo pants, and T-shirt.

The cockpit hatch fell open and Rade climbed down onto the rungs, feeling Taya’s eyes on him the whole time. He was going to shut her down, but when he turned back, he saw that the green light on her visor had already faded. She’d deactivated herself already, evidently preferring the oblivion of machine sleep to the painful reality of watching him go.

With a sigh, Rade scooted across the hangar bay and entered the airlock.

He didn’t look back.

22

Rade was jogging with Tahoe through the tight corridors and compartments. They’d worked out a route that took them from the berthing area in the guest quarters, to the stairwell that led up two decks, past hangar bay 3A, two rights and a left past the galley, down a scuttle, a right through the gym, past the officer’s mess, down another scuttle, through the “D” way and two lefts onto the “E way,” and then they were back in the guest quarters.

It wasn’t as labyrinthine as some of the supercarriers he had been on, but it was certainly up there, complexity wise. Still, the blueprints displayed on his overhead map alleviated any navigational difficulties he or anyone else might have had. That and the colorful augmented reality overlays that activated next to each bend or stairwell, constantly reminding him where he was. He could only imagine what it would have been like back in the day to navigate oceangoing vessels without a proper map. You’d have to stop and ask for directions a lot. Or hope that there was adequate signage.

They had to jog in single file most of the time, because the corridors were too cramped otherwise, especially considering the steady traffic of robots and men at that hour. For such a relatively small ship, there were certainly a lot of people hustling and bustling about in the early morning. But that could be expected, Rade supposed, since they’d chosen 0700 for their jog, which coincided with a shift change. Tahoe had wanted to wait, but Rade was eager to get some physical activity in that morning, so he could forget about the night before.

It wasn’t working.

“Hey Tahoe,” Rade said over his shoulder. He’d taken point.

“Yo,” Tahoe replied. “Ready for me to take the lead?”

“No, but it looks like you’re going to make it in time for your daughter’s wedding after all,” Rade said.

“We’ll see,” Tahoe told him. “I’ve been keeping Tepin updated. It depends on how long we’re stuck at this latest colony.”

“When’s the actual date?” Rade asked.

“Two weeks from tomorrow,” Tahoe said.

“Crazy how fast they grow up, isn’t it?” Rade said.

“Hell, yeah,” Tahoe said. “Seems like only yesterday I was holding my little daughter in my arms. And now she’s going to get married to a man of her own, and possibly have children herself.”

“What’s he like?” Rade asked. “The husband to be?”

“Only met the guy once,” Tahoe replied. “Wanted to kill him.”

Rade pursed his lips. “Probably a natural reaction. You’re giving up your little princess, entrusting her care and safety to the power of another man.”

“Well sure, but,” Tahoe said, “I mean, I really wanted to kill him. The way he looked at me, like I was garbage. Like his tribe was somehow better than mine. I remember thinking, no one ever told this young fool that the Algonquin aren’t much different than the Navajo. But I was wrong. It wasn’t because of my tribe that he hated me. It was because of what I’d done. I found out from my daughter over the course of a long stream of InterGalNet messages that he thought I was the equivalent of a deadbeat dad. Never there for my daughter when she needed me. And I can’t really blame him for that.”

“You were never a deadbeat dad,” Rade said. “First of all, the very definition of a deadbeat dad is one who doesn’t pay the bills he owes his children. You always sent your entire paycheck back to Tepin, sparing only the little you needed out here to live.”

“Well, yes,” Tahoe said. “That’s true. But I wasn’t there for her throughout most of her life, because of my work. And that’s got to hurt. It certainly hurts me, just thinking about it.” He paused. “That’s why I’ve been scheming about how I’m going to get away, if the fleet is delayed above the colony world. I’ve been considering committing a court-martial offense.”

“Shh,” Rade said. “The ship’s AI is listening in.”

“I told you I was considering,” Tahoe said. “Not that I actually would do it.”

“Even so, the AI is probably going to forward this conversation to the lieutenant commander now,” Rade said.

“Don’t care,” Tahoe said. “It’s good that he hears my concerns. Maybe he’ll do the right thing and arrange for me to take an early shore leave.”

Rade jogged on in silence for a few moments, and then took the first step in steering the conversation toward what was really on his mind. “So, uh, well, this might seem a little out of left field, but… remember that time you almost cheated on Tepin?”

“No?” Tahoe said.

“When that old girlfriend got in touch with you, and you guys started sending messages back and forth,” Rade said. “To the point where you were exchanging nude selfies.”

“Oh, her,” Tahoe said. “Uh, she was the one sending me nude selfies. I never sent her any. So, what about her?”

Rade sighed, then pulled up next to the gym to take a breather. The air in the corridor reeked, courtesy of the sweating bodies inside the workout area next door. Tahoe took up a position beside him, and leaned against the bulkhead.

“Ah!” Tahoe said, holding his nose. “Why’d you have to pick this spot to take a rest? Man, this is the problem with throwing a gym onto a ship not designed for it. You can’t just pick any cargo bay, and start adding equipment. You need the ventilation infrastructure, or people are going to choke!”

“You’ll get used to it,” Rade said.

“Okay, great,” Tahoe said. “So why are you asking me about Tepin, and the old girlfriend I almost cheated with?”

“I guess I feel guilty about something,” Rade said.

“This isn’t about Shaw again, is it?” Tahoe asked. “I thought we had this conversation. I told you, if you wouldn’t quit the Teams to make it work with her, then that meant you were free. She’s not your girlfriend. It’s not cheating if you choose to be with someone else. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You slept with someone else?”

Rade didn’t answer.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” Tahoe said. “I’m your best friend. You can share anything with me. I’m not disappointed in you or any crap like that. In fact, I’m glad to see you’re finally embracing your inner sleaze bag! I’m looking forward to hearing all the dirty details.”

Still Rade remained tight-lipped.

“So, who is it?” Tahoe said, the suspense evidently killing him. “I heard Bender got a sweet little ensign he’s been hanging out with in the storage closets at random hours. How about you? You got yourself an ensign too? They’re always attracted to us rugged spec ops types. I told you I’ve always regretted getting married so soon, before joining the Teams, right? I envy all the pussy you single bastards have access to. I’m just glad you’re finally taking advantage of the opportunity.”

Rade sighed. “You say it’s not cheating?”

“You and Shaw are just friends now,” Tahoe said. “You’ve told me this on many occasions.”

“I know,” he said. “But sometimes, it still feels like cheating.” He paused, waiting for a group of crew members to squeeze past. One of them, a stronger gentleman, gave Rade and Tahoe a sour look, like he thought the two of them shouldn’t be hanging out in the corridor and partially blocking traffic like that. But then he must have checked the ratings on their embedded IDs, because the look quickly transformed into one of fear, and he hurried past them.

“Did you see that little bitch?” Tahoe said, raising his voice to pitch it after the man.

Rade shook his head as the retreating man’s shoulders stiffened, but the individual in question kept walking. “Yeah. Look, I have a confession to make.” He lowered his voice, and said: “What if it wasn’t a woman?”

Tahoe seemed taken aback, and he said, loudly: “It wasn’t a woman you slept with?”

Rade cringed. “Quiet, man!” He looked around, hoping nobody heard. The AI was no doubt listening in, so Rade opened a private comm channel and switched to Implant to Implant communications.

“Let’s keep it mental, going forward,” Rade sent. His lips didn’t move, he merely thought the words, courtesy of the latest upgrades to his Implant.

“Mental it is,” Tahoe replied, his voice echoing in Rade’s head. “Brother, I didn’t mean to insult you with my surprise. I don’t see anything wrong with it, of course. It’s just I was taken aback for a second, because I never took you as the kind of guy who was interested in other men.”

Rade gave his friend an annoyed look, and sent: “Tahoe, I’m not gay.”

Tahoe grinned widely. “I know.” He punched Rade hard in the shoulder. “I was messing with you, brother.”

“Funny,” Rade said.

“You’re into aliens of course,” Tahoe sent, leaning back against the bulkhead. “It’s understandable.”

Rade could have rolled his eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Tahoe sent. “Actually, you’re right. I’m still playing with you. So, if it wasn’t a man, it has to be an Artificial of some kind. A Skin Musician? No, there wouldn’t be any aboard. Unless you managed to sneak your way into the captain’s private sex dungeon or something.”

“Taya…” Rade transmitted.

Tahoe’s eyes widened. “Taya? You had sex with your mech? Man, that’s some wild, twisted shit!” He seemed to catch himself, and then sent: “I mean, I still respect you of course, Chief. You can sleep with whoever, and whatever you want. I guess I’m just trying to imagine the mechanics of it, is all. There aren’t very many orifices on a Brigand class mech you could use, at least not without some major lubrication. Maybe one of the missile launchers, after you removed the serpent? You shoved your own serpent into the slot and had your way with her.” He grinned widely.

“Tahoe… not funny,” Rade sent. “It was a bad idea to talk to you about this. Never mind.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Tahoe transmitted. “I’m being an ass. I’m good at it, sometimes. You obviously sexed her in VR. Still, I have to admit I’m a little stunned. When I told you to unleash your inner sleaze bag and have fun with the crew, I meant the human crew, not the war machines. Especially not the machine you pilot into battle. But hey, who am I to judge? It’s probably going to feel a little odd though, piloting her going forward. I mean, we’re supposed to bond with our mechs. Just not bond with them, if you catch my meaning.”

“Which is why I didn’t go all the way,” Rade sent. “I didn’t sleep with her.” He gazed down. “I might have touched her virtual pussy though.”

“Was it wet?” Tahoe asked eagerly.

“More than you can imagine,” Rade replied, unable to resist a smile. He quickly dropped it though. “I had to stop though. And not because of Shaw. But for what you were just saying. The awkwardness that’s going to result between her and me if we’re deployed again before the platoon is assigned new mechs. Also, when I was holding her virtual body in my arms, I couldn’t shake the words of a certain RDC we had back in bootcamp, who warned me that fraternization with those in the same unit was a very bad thing.”

“RDC,” Tahoe sent, his eyes defocusing slightly as he looked the word up in his Implant. “Ah yes, recruit division commander. I’d forgotten that term. Bootcamp. They always make up names the real navy never uses. I can certainly see it as being a big distraction. I mean, if you start some kind of relationship with your mech, even one that’s just physical alone, I can see you being reluctant to place her into dangerous situations. Staying back, when you should be rushing forward, and potentially causing harm to your other team mates by doing so. Or maybe you’ll just favor her, which again could cause harm to the others, especially once they figure out what you’re doing. Men follow a chief because they trust him utterly. With their lives. If that trust is ever broken, the chief will have a very hard time leading. Last thing you need is men questioning your every order.”

Rade nodded. “The last thing indeed. I’m starting to feel better now that I didn’t go through with it. A whole lot better.”

Tahoe pursed his lips. “Yes. It’s probably for the best.” He studied Rade, giving him a curious look. “You don’t have feelings for the mech, do you?”

“I don’t know, really,” Rade replied. “I don’t think so.”

“What about her?” Tahoe pressed. “Is she emotionally attached to you?”

Rade nodded. “She admitted as much. Says she should have turned off her emotions a long time ago, and that working in such close proximity with me over so many missions, across different colony worlds, has caused her to bond in ways she’s never imagined. She has a huge crush on me. And I thought… I guess I wanted to do her a favor, when I visited her last night. I wanted to give her the date she’s always wanted. I wanted to fulfill her dreams. To pay her back for all the times she’s saved my life. At least that’s what I told myself. I didn’t think it through.”

Tahoe grinned. “You did, except you were thinking with the second mind all men have, brother. This one.” He pointed between Rade’s legs. “It happens to the best of us.”

“I suppose so,” Rade sent.

“You still haven’t filled me in on all the details,” Tahoe transmitted. “I want to know everything. Virtual reality was used for the visual component, but how did you go about emulating the physical part? Did you find a virtual pod somewhere near the officer’s deck?”

“Actually, I used her cockpit,” Rade replied.

Tahoe wrinkled his nose ever so slightly. “Oh. That could have gotten messy, if you’d actually gone through with it.”

“Yeah, there would have been some clean up involved,” Rade admitted.

Tahoe stood back, smiling. “Maybe when we finally reach Earth, you can get with her. Is this her last deployment?”

“No,” Rade transmitted. “I think she has a few more. As in twenty years’ worth.”

“Oh, too bad,” Tahoe sent. “Or actually, you can get with her once she’s assigned to a different Team. Then you don’t have to worry about the whole fraternization part. She’ll be your remote girlfriend. The great part is, through VR, you can have sex with her each night. At least while the two of you are on the same planet. And once her commission is up, you can wife her up. I know Fret would approve. He’s always talking about how great it would be to have a robot wife… how you could turn her off if she ever started nagging you, and turn her on again when you were ready for sexy time. Plus, you could deactivate her while you were away on deployments, so you could guarantee she never cheated on you.”

“Yeah, if I was so cruel…” Rade transmitted. He chuckled softly. “A remote girlfriend. And a virtual one at that. A war machine. You know, I’d only be creating a relationship like the one Shaw and I tried already. And you saw how well that worked for us. Remote relationships are the hardest to hold together.”

“I suppose so,” Tahoe sent. “Then I guess you’ll just have to go with plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?” Rade asked.

Tahoe grinned widely. “Working your way through the entire female component of the crew while we’re underway!”

Rade patted Tahoe on the shoulder. “Bro, you gotta stop projecting.”

With that, Rade and Tahoe resumed their morning jog through the corridors.

23

The days passed far more slowly than Rade would have liked. He did his best to distract himself from what was coming, but he still felt the tension. It would only worsen when the battle started, especially considering that he wouldn’t be able to participate. He’d feel every impact on the hull, and wonder if he was listening to the vessel tearing itself apart.

The fleet made the final Slipstream jump to the system under assault, but the target colony was some days away yet. Rade learned from the lieutenant commander that there were twenty Nemesis ships in orbit above the colony, with an equal number of United Systems vessels. The enemy had deployed troops to the surface to besiege the large colony, and the United Systems in turn had also inserted reinforcements to protect the city. Most of the battle was taking place on the plains outside the dome, which had been breached and repaired multiple times. The United Systems ground troops and their air support had managed to push the invaders away from the colony and onto those plains, but they were in desperate need of reinforcements.

The lieutenant commander made a point of emphasizing that the enemy utilized gamma ray weapons.

“Because of the Nemesis gamma ray technology, most of the troops we’re sending down are AIs,” Scotts said. “So even if you weren’t grounded, you wouldn’t have been deployed.”

“But you admit that there are manned teams going down…” Rade said.

“Yes,” the lieutenant commander said. “But they’re staying well behind the main fighting, mostly coordinating with the AIs to pick off units that make it past the defensive lines. They’re also responsible for defending any breaches in the geodesic dome.”

“How are the citizens handling it?” Rade asked.

“Not well,” Scotts said. “Because of the sheer size of the population, there wasn’t time to evac everyone before the Nemesis arrived. So most of them remain trapped in the city. About eighty percent of the population has taken shelter in Breach Resistant buildings, and we’ve distributed environmental suits to the other twenty percent of the population, with designated depots where they can pick up oxygen tanks. Attacks usually come every six hours, along with dome breaches.”

“Sounds rough,” Rade said.

“It isn’t pretty,” the lieutenant commander agreed. “So, trust me when I tell you, you’re not really missing out.”

“But I’d still prefer to be down there, than up here,” Rade said.

“So would I,” Scotts said. “Believe me.”

The evening before the fleet was scheduled to arrive, Rade found himself alone in the quarters he shared with half the platoon. The team was away at the gym for one of their twice-daily workout sessions; Rade was still staying behind as per the doctor’s orders, letting his rotator cuff acclimate to the weight of his arm. Not being able to work out was driving him crazy, but the last thing he needed was another injury to waylay him for even longer.

So, while he lay there on his cot, reviewing one of his old recordings of Shaw, Tahoe, and Alejandro in happier times, he was surprised when the hatch chime sounded. He wondered if his team members had become locked out. It happened occasionally, usually on the older ships, and required removing a panel next to the hatch to ratchet it open manually.

A glance at his overhead map told him that only one person stood outside the door. The ship’s AI had identified the visitor in question as Cynthia.

Frowning, Rade accessed the remote interface on the hatch, and opened it.

Cynthia stood in the doorway, dressed in civilian clothes—black slacks and a pink blouse. She probably borrowed the items from one of the senior officers, since she would’ve been wearing only “cool vent” undergarments inside her environmental suit.

She searched the bunk beds that lined either side of the room until she found him with her eyes.

“Can I come in, Mr. Galaal?” she said.

“That’s why I opened the door…” Rade said. He wondered vaguely why she wasn’t under guard, but then remembered her confinement had been lifted at the same time his platoon was let out of the brig.

She nodded, and entered. Rade closed the hatch. The ship’s main AI would be seeing and hearing everything that took place in the compartment, of course, but he didn’t need the rest of the crew gazing into his quarters when they passed. Not that he was worried too much about gossip.

Cynthia squeezed between the beds until she stood near his cot, then she sat on the closest bunk.

“I noticed your friends were gone,” Cynthia said. “And I wanted to talk.”

“All right,” Rade said. “Let’s talk. How’s the military been treating you, by the way?”

“Fine,” she said. “The first few days seemed like a series of interrogations, but it’s getting better.”

“What did they do to the spores you carried aboard?” he asked.

“They’re in isolation,” she replied. “Some military scientists transferred over from another ship to study them. Apparently, no other vessel wants to risk carrying them aboard. I’m not allowed to participate in the examinations of those spores, but I’ve been forced to share everything I know about them and the Anarchist.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t just take a memory dump from your Implant,” Rade said.

“Oh, they did,” she told him. “Plus, they also deactivated it, and applied the same patches as they did to your Implant. They didn’t have to remove any code however, because the Anarchist didn’t infect me, as I already told you.”

“Well, be thankful for those patches,” Rade said. “Because it means the Anarchist won’t infect you going forward. I wonder how the entity’s interrogations are going anyway…”

“Probably well,” Cynthia said. “Because he’s installed his neural network in a human designed AI core, it wouldn’t be hard to dump the contents of that neural network into another storage device for perusal.”

“Yeah, but the contents are probably encrypted in alien protocols,” Rade said.

“True,” she told him. She gazed into his eyes for a moment, and then smiled shyly, looking down.

He frowned. “So you said you wanted to talk… what’s on your mind?”

“I…” She folded her fingers together, and licked her lips nervously. “I just wanted a pretense to visit you. I noticed your platoon mates weren’t here, and I thought, well…”

“Thought what?” he said.

“I wanted to ask you if you could do something for me,” she said.

He regarded her suspiciously. “What’s that?”

“I want to talk to the Anarchist one more time,” she said.

He shook his head ferociously. “I don’t have the authorization.”

“But you have two of the best hackers in the military on your team,” she said. “They could get—”

“Themselves court-martialed,” he said. “As could I, for giving the order. I’m sorry, you can’t see the Anarchist.”

“Can you at least tell me where they’re holding him?” she pressed.

“Even if I knew—the location is classified—I wouldn’t share it with you,” he told her.

She didn’t answer for a time. Then:

“I’d like to have a child again,” she said, gazing off into the distance, her eyes becoming dreamy. “I haven’t had a child in fifty years.”

“Just how old are you?” Rade asked.

She glanced askance at him, and smiled patiently. “One hundred and twenty-five.”

Rade shook his head. Rejuvenetics. She looked barely thirty. “Can you even have a child at that age?”

“I’ve had Egg Renewal Therapy done,” she said. “I always get it done. This would be my ninth child. After the grief my eighth caused me, I swore off children after seventy-five. But now…”

She slid off her bunk, to join him instead on his cot.

Rade edged away from her, and she pouted.

“I know you find me attractive,” she said. “All men do.”

Rade didn’t answer. But she was right, of course. He was very tempted to give her that ninth child of hers. Still, it felt too transactional. Especially considering her earlier request. Maybe she thought that by sleeping with him, she could wrap him around her finger. He wasn’t that kind of guy, fortunately.

“What about the spores?” she said. “Can you tell me where they’re being held for study?” She rested a hand on his chest and allowed her voice to assume a seductive bent. “I’d be very appreciative of any help you could give me.”

He coldly lifted her hand off him and let it drop in her lap. “You do realize that the ship’s main AI is monitoring everything we say, right? I could get you arrested for these requests.”

He received a comm request from her, courtesy of her Implant. He accepted.

“What now?” he asked her mentally.

“This way the AI can’t listen in,” she replied.

“Uh huh, that’s fairly obvious,” he said. “I shouldn’t have even accepted this comm request. Look. I’m still not telling you anything. Besides, I don’t even know where the spores are. Why the hell do you want them, anyway?”

“Because I promised I’d help the Anarchist start again on a new planet,” she told him. “I believe this is all a big misunderstanding.”

“What’s to misunderstand?” he said. “The Anarchist tried to take over one of our starships, using us as his pawns.”

“Yes, but look at it from the Anarchist’s viewpoint,” she said. “We’ve essentially invaded his worlds by placing colonies on them. He only just started to recover from centuries of deprivation at the hands of the Draactals, when humans arrived and started terraforming his planets. Wouldn’t you want them to withdraw, too? Wouldn’t you do everything in your power to achieve that withdrawal?”

“The Anarchist could have tried talking to us,” Rade said. “Instead of firing first. How can you take his side in this? You lost a lot of good people on that colony when it was destroyed.”

“Yes, and I don’t want their deaths to be for nothing,” she said. “Which is what will happen if I’m not allowed to plant those spores on another planet.”

“The Brass will never let you take those spores from this ship,” he said. “I’m sorry. You might as well go, because I’m not helping you. And I suggest you give up on this self-righteous quest of yours. Not unless you want to spend the rest of the journey in the brig.”

“Are you going to report me?” she asked. The fear was obvious in her eyes.

Rade hesitated, then said: “Yeah. I’m going to have to.”

She slapped him then, hard. His cheek throbbed in pain.

She closed their connection, then stood up and stomped from the room, squeezing between the bunks before she reached the hatch.

It opened. Tahoe and Snakeoil were at the entrance, their biceps pumped from their workout, but Cynthia squeezed past them in a huff.

“What was that all about?” Snakeoil said.

But Tahoe was grinning. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Rade shook his head. “No, that’s not it at all. She wanted help in locating the spores. And she wanted to talk to the Anarchist. I told her no on both accounts, and that I’d have to report the request.”

“Oh,” Tahoe said, the grin dropping immediately. “And are you going to?”

Rade shrugged. “Probably not. The ship’s main AI will do that for me. Right, Barkley?”

“I already have,” the main AI replied in its monotonous male voice.

“They’ll probably keep her restricted to quarters for the rest of the journey back to Earth,” Snakeoil said.

Rade rubbed his throbbing cheek. “I would say that’s a good thing.”

He leaned back and closed his eyes.

* * *

The fleet reached the colony and deployed reinforcements to aid the defenders below. Rade didn’t feel or hear the usual signs of combat—the distant rumblings as the vessel took impacts from enemy weapons, the moaning of metal as the starship strained beneath the forces exerted on its hull while attempting to pull off high speed maneuvers. Because of this he had to assume that, as predicted, the Barracuda class vessel—the Radial—was staying back, fulfilling its traditional role as a support ship. There was another good reason for the Radial to stay back of course, and that was the preservation of the alien captive and its spores.

Very likely most of the data gathered from the Anarchist’s AI core had been disseminated to other vessels in the fleet by now, but that didn’t mean there was no value in keeping the Anarchist alive. They would still need the entity to help them decode most of that data, for example. Plus, it might be necessary to use the Anarchist as a hostage at some later date.

That first day passed uneventfully. Rade pressed the lieutenant commander for updates, but Scotts didn’t have any, other than to say the war effort was going well.

“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re just saying that because you want to keep moral high,” Rade said. “Which is it?”

“Neither, and both,” the lieutenant commander told him.

Rade finally decided he’d been sidelined from the gym long enough, and joined his companions in the workout area that evening. The place was packed, despite the late hour, with other crew members apparently seeking a temporary refuge from the stress as well, gathering here in the hopes of forgetting their troubles through physical exertion.

Rade and Tahoe waited a good ten minutes before a bench press freed up, and then they alternated between sets, spotting each other.

“How’s the shoulder feeling?” Tahoe asked.

Rade rotated his shoulder back and forward, bringing the arm in front of him. “A little tight.”

“We’ll get that loosened up before the night is done,” Tahoe said.

The hatch to the gym opened, and Praxter stepped inside.

“Praxter,” Bender said, swaggering up to him. “What are you doing here, Bitch? Exercise isn’t going to help your puny muscles. In fact—”

Praxter’s arm thrust outward, and Bender was hurled against the bulkhead. He held his chest as if in pain, and blood poured from his mouth.

Someone screamed.

Praxter made a beeline toward Rade.

Crew members hastily cleared out of the rogue Artificial’s path.

“Praxter, stop,” Rade said. He pulled up the remote interface in an attempt to deactivate the Artificial. “He won’t shut down.”

Manic came up behind Praxter, and tried to manual deactivate the robot using the switch hidden underneath the nape of its neck, but Praxter grabbed his forearm and instantly broke it.

Fret rushed forward at the same time and tried to tackle the robot. But when his body smashed into the Artificial’s torso, it produced only a loud clang, and the robot didn’t move. Fret slumped to the floor.

Praxter released Manic and continued toward Rade.

“Stay back, Team!” Rade glanced at Bomb. “Get to the armory on this floor! Grab what you can, and return! Also, send for a Weaver!”

Bomb nodded hastily and fled, as did Snakeoil, Skullcrusher and several other crew members closer to the door.

“Praxter, stand down bro,” Rade said. “It’s me. Chief.”

But the Artificial gave him a blank look.

As Praxter approached, Rade picked up a smaller, unweighted barbell meant for biceps curls, and smashed it over the Artificial’s temple.

Praxter cocked his head and flung up an arm, ripping the barbell from Rade’s hands and throwing it aside like so much paper.

Then the Artificial’s arm jutted forward, its fingers shaped into a vise that tried to wrap around Rade’s throat.

Rade dove to the ground, rolling under the bench press. Praxter tore the bench in half and followed him.

Rade lifted a forty-five-pound weight from the squat rack beside him, and threw it at Praxter. It bounced harmless from the Artificial’s chest.

“Chief,” Tahoe said.

Rade glanced at his friend. Tahoe tossed him a pair of magnetic dumbbells. Rade grabbed them out of the air, unsure at first what Tahoe intended. But then he understood.

Rade flicked the thumb switches to full magnetization and tossed the dumbbells at Praxter’s feet. Ordinarily, special gloves were worn so that the magnets had something to attach to. They were designed to allow the wearer to keep working out past grip failure, allowing one to fully train the target muscle group regardless of grip strength. Rade frowned upon using the device—he figured you shouldn’t be lifting more weight than you could manage with your existing grip. Even so, he did use them occasionally, as did the others. They were designed for big boys like himself, and as such the magnetization was industrial grade: with the weights Rade and his men usually handled in the gym, you better have strong magnets.

The dumbbells hit Praxter in either ankle so that the weights connected to the bar touched the deck. At full strength, the magnetization was high enough to glue the bar not just to the Artificial’s feet, but to the metal deck itself.

Praxter tried to lift his legs, but couldn’t budge them, not while the magnetization was active. He knelt, bending over to hit the thumb switches.

Tahoe slammed a long barbell onto Praxter’s back. Rade grabbed onto the other end, and together they shoved downward, trying to fold up the Artificial.

Lui and Kicker joined in so that there were two big men applying pressure on either side.

The Artificial’s strength was contained mostly in the arms and legs, not the lower back, and his internal electroactuators were unable to counter. His upper body crumpled toward its legs.

But then Praxter reached up with his hands, and crawled his fingers along the bar, toward where Kicker and Lui were holding it next to Tahoe and Rade on either side.

“Watch those hands!” Rade said. “Don’t let them touch you!”

Kicker and Lui were forced to release the bar. As were Rade and Tahoe.

Praxter stood up, and sloughed the bar from his back.

Then a laser burn hole appeared in his head. And another in his chest, above the battery pack region. The Artificial collapsed.

Rade glanced at the entrance to the gym, expecting to find Skullcracker, Snakeoil, or Bomb, or maybe a member of the ship’s security forces, but instead, another Praxter stood there, laser rifle in hand.

“What the hell is going on?” Rade asked.

“The Anarchist has taken control of the ship,” Praxter said, sliding the rifle over his shoulder by the strap. “And the captain has shut down the engine core in order to deactivate it. We’re locked in a decaying orbit now, because of it. MAs are rushing from deck to deck, telling people to evacuate.”

“If you’re Praxter, then who was this?” Rade asked. He checked the embedded IDs of the two Artificials and understood immediately what had happened. This was indeed Praxter, and the imposter was merely the same model.

Should have checked the IDs earlier.

“In the cargo bay, a storage closet contained four Artificials of the same model as me,” Praxter said. “They were never patched, apparently, and the Anarchist was able to use the main AI to activate them. He sent them to different decks, with instructions to cause havoc. I’m sorry if you thought it was me.”

Bomb, Snakeoil and Skullcrusher appeared behind Praxter. They seemed about ready to shoot him.

“Stand down!” Rade told them. “It wasn’t Praxter.”

The gym cleared out, and the Weaver arrived shortly thereafter, as did one of the MAs Praxter had spoken of.

While the Weaver worked on Bender, the master-at-arms announced: “Get to the closest escape pod. The captain had to shut off the main AI, and we’re drifting toward the planet on a decaying orbit. We’re also headed toward the enemy fleet. So, either we’re going to burn up in the atmosphere, or we’re going to be shot down. We don’t get to pick our poison. But we do have to get the hell off.”

“Can’t another ship tow us?” Tahoe asked.

“Evidently not,” the MA said. “As far as I know, all the United Systems ships are occupied in orbit, and won’t reach us in time.”

“What about the backup subsystems?” TJ asked from where he was kneeling on the floor beside Bender as the Weaver worked on him.

“All compromised,” the MA said. “This ship is going down, mates. So I suggest you do as I say, and get to the escape pods.”

Rade received a tap in request from his lieutenant commander. Scotts had stayed aboard, commanding Bravo remotely, because it was cheaper to do that than take a shuttle over to the Harbinger. “I’m taking an escape pod! If you’re able, I want you and your team to salvage whatever mechs you can. They’re jump ready—fully fueled, with fresh aeroshell heat shields installed.”

“I’ll see what we can do,” Rade said.

“Otherwise, if you can’t make it, head to the closest escape pods,” Scotts said.

“Aye, sir,” Rade said.

“I’ll see you planetside!” the lieutenant commander finished before disconnecting.

The Weaver finished working on Bender and injected a stimulant. The black man promptly sat up. “Wow. I feel wired.” He glanced at Praxter. “Why the hell did you attack me?”

“You called him bitch one too many times,” Manic said as the Weaver worked on his broken arm. “You just knew something had to give at some point.”

“Damn,” Bender said. “Guess I’m going to have to watch my tongue around the bi— er, the dude.”

“He’s teasing,” Praxter said. “It wasn’t me, just another of the same make and model.” He pointed at the collapsed Artificial on the floor behind him. “In case you haven’t heard, the Anarchist tried to seize control of the ship.”

“Oh,” Bender said. “Well then.” He looked away, and mumbled: “Sorry for calling you bitch so many times, either way. You’re not a bitch. You never were. You’re a cool dude. I just, I’m… an asshole sometimes. I… well I don’t like AIs much in the first place. But I was particularly upset because, well, there was another AI we used to have in the platoon, and I always treated him like shit. He treated me, and everyone else, like gold. Gave his life for us in the end. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for how I behaved toward him. And see, with you, I thought, why should I treat you any better? Why should I treat you like a part of the team, when I never did that for Harlequin? I’m… I’m dirt.”

“You’re not dirt,” Praxter said. “You’re my brother.”

Bender looked up, smiling strangely. His chin was doing this quivering thing. “Come here.”

He wrapped his arms around Praxter in a tight hug. Bender held it for several moments, and when he released him, he turned away, wiping tears from his eyes. He cast a glare Manic’s way. “And don’t you say nothing!”

Manic shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The Weaver had moved on to treating Fret next. He’d bruised a rib when he jumped at the imitation Praxter, but otherwise had received no further injuries, so the Weaver injected a quick healing accelerant, along with a painkiller, and sent Fret on his way.

A klaxon kicked in.

“Looks like someone in engineering finally found a way to activate the alarm,” Lui quipped.

“Let’s go!” Rade said, rushing toward the entrance.

He glanced at his overhead map, and realized Cynthia was still in her quarters.

“I’ll meet you in the hangar bay,” Rade said. “Prep the mechs for launch!”

“Where are you going?” Tahoe asked.

“To get Cynthia,” Rade replied. “Seems the security forces decided to clear out without bothering to set her free.”

24

Rade hurried through the tight corridors, occasionally passing crew members heading in the opposite direction, toward the evacuation pods.

With the help of his overhead map and the augmented reality overlays that labeled each turn and crossing, he finally made it to her quarters.

When he reached the door, it didn’t open. He tried accessing the remote interface, but was locked out.

“Great,” he said.

He kicked open the access panel, pried free the necessary tool, and began turning the ratchet.

The door slowly opened.

An eye peered through the crack.

“What’s going on?” Cynthia said.

“You heard the klaxon?” Rade asked. It had stopped for the moment, but he knew it was going to start up again soon.

“Yes,” she replied.

“We’re evacuating the ship,” Rade told her. “Your good friend, the Anarchist, decided to take control of the main AI. Captain Mercedes didn’t like that very much, so he shut down the engine core, deactivating the AI. We’re in a decaying orbit.”

“That’s not good,” Cynthia said.

“No,” he agreed.

“No wonder Barkley stopped answering my queries,” Cynthia said. “Strange name to call the AI of a starship, by the way.”

“I’ve heard worse.” When he’d widened the door enough for her to squeeze through, she emerged, and Rade grabbed her by the hand and led her through the corridors to the hangar bay. The klaxon had started sounding again in the background.

When he reached the bay, he saw that the panels next to the airlock hatches had been removed so that the doors could be manually jacked open.

Within, the MOTHs had loaded into their respective Brigand mechs, and waited in the center of the bay. Taya stood at the rear of the line, her cockpit hatch open, inviting him inside. The booster rockets necessary for the jump had already been attached to the mechs, courtesy of Alpha Platoon and the assistive robots that still operated on their own power supply in the hangar bay. Rade noted that no serpents were installed in the shoulder launchers, but that was expected: the team wouldn’t have had had time to fetch missiles from the ship’s stock.

Rade hurried to the locker alcove and suited up—he removed his T-shirt and cargo pants so that he could don the “cool vents” undergarments instead; Cynthia meanwhile stripped off her blouse and slacks. When he saw that trim, athletic figure, he was almost beginning to regret not taking her up on her offer. Almost. But sleeping with a woman was never worth the price of a court-martial in his books.

He picked out a suitably sized jumpsuit and began attaching the various assemblies. Meanwhile, she donned an environmental suit.

“Going to ride in a cockpit this time?” he asked her.

“I’d rather take your passenger seat,” she said.

“Probably a good idea,” he said. That way he could keep an eye on her.

At the airlock, Tahoe’s mech was using the ratchet tool to seal the inner hatch of the airlock. Probably a good idea—if they opened the hangar bay doors, the breach seals in the corridor beyond would still activate, but that would reroute power away from the escape pods. If someone happened to be launching just as power cut out, the pod could end up jammed indefinitely, the occupant trapped.

Rade finished dressing, and approached Taya. He clambered smoothly up the rungs leading to the cockpit, and loaded inside. The inner cocoon wrapped around him and Taya piped her camera feeds into his vision.

He took control and glanced at the other mechs lining the far side of the hangar: the Hoplites and Titans formerly under the Anarchist’s command, standing at the ready.

“Have you assigned a commanding officer?” Rade asked them.

“Hackles is our CO,” one of the AIs said.

Rade had two choices: either lump them together under his platoon, or allow them to operate as their own independent platoon, led by the CO. He chose the latter.

“Hackles, you report directly to me,” Rade said.

“Understood, Chief,” a deep male voice replied. On his HUD, the speaker was labeled as Hackles.

Cynthia approached, and Rade knelt to allow her access to his passenger seat.

“Taya, keep an eye on her with the rear cameras,” Rade said. “Make sure she doesn’t get up to anything.”

“Sure,” Taya said.

Tahoe had finished closing the airlock hatch then. He stood up in his mech and gave Rade a thumbs up.

Rade approached the hangar bay door. Lui and Snakeoil stood next to a panel they had removed in the bulkhead.

“Ready?” Lui asked.

“Bender, TJ, I don’t suppose it’s possible to reroute some of the emergency power to these doors?” Rade asked.

“Not unless you want us to rush our asses back to engineering,” TJ said.

“No,” Rade said. “Lui, Snakeoil, open her up.”

The two of them used the ratchet tools to activate the internal winch, and the doors slowly parted. When the seal was broken, the air rushed out, drawing loose parts toward the crack that had formed. Rade and the others remained firmly rooted in place, thanks to their weight.

It took a good five minutes for the two Brigands to open those doors wide enough to fit a single mech. They continued widening it until they could be sure it would fit the biggest of them—the Titan mechs.

“You know, I don’t get why we didn’t just shoot through the doors,” Bender said. “Seeing as the ship’s a write-off anyway.”

“You want to overheat your cobras, go right ahead,” Lui said.

In another minute, Rade asked Taya: “Is that wide enough to fit the Titans with us?”

“By my calculations, it is,” Taya said.

“All right, platoons,” Rade said. “We jump. Single file. Cyclone, prepare the order.”

A moment later Rade received his jump order. He was number four.

Bender, Lui and Snakeoil walked through first, and dropped down toward the planet.

Rade passed though the twin doors, and stepped out into the empty space beyond. He fired reverse thrust from his booster rockets, decelerating. The starship quickly ascended above him.

He glanced at his overhead map, and spotted the three dots of Bender, Lui and Snakeoil below him; the remaining indicators updated as others jumped from the ship above.

When he hit the atmosphere, the booster rockets attached for the jump fell away. His aeroshell heat shield deployed, forming a dome beneath his feet. Orange flames sprung up around its edges. The heat increased threefold in the cockpit, and he began to sweat.

Rade tightened his abs and clenched his jaw as the air friction further decelerated the mech, and the Gs increased.

Then the flames receded, and the shield broke away.

He dropped through a thin layer of clouds next; he could make out the dome of the colony below, covered in small, hexagonal pieces of glass.

On the muddy plains beyond it, he saw several United System army divisions, dug in against a swarm of Draactals that covered the land to the far horizon. They seemed bigger than any Rade had ever encountered before, but that could have been an illusionary effect of his current altitude. He saw Nemesis spheres roving to and fro between them, as well as ground-based, enemy walker units that fired energy cannons into the United System defenders.

“Platoons, steer toward the eastern perimeter of the geodesic dome,” Rade said. He saw escape pods and shuttles landing there. Men and women in environmental suits emerged—the crew of the Radial—and rushed into the open hangar bays in the thick ring that formed the base of the dome. It wasn’t a coincidence that the Radial had gone down above the colony—the United Systems fleet had been standing guard in geosynchronous orbit above it.

“We’re going to hide inside the dome?” Bender asked.

“Yep,” Rade replied.

“Come on, Chief!” Bender said over a private channel, direct to Rade. “Why does the rest of the army get to have all the fun? Sure, we’re grounded… but damn, look at the defenders. That army could definitely use our help.”

Rade glanced at the divisions far below. Bender was right, the front line was crumbling under the assault. Those Draactals were driving a wedge deep into the units, while the walkers and airborne spheres mowed down swathes of defenders with their energy cannons. Raptors and other United Systems air support craft were falling out of the sky, hit by other energy weapons.

“You’re right,” Rade said. “And I want to help them. But you’re forgetting about the gamma ray attacks these aliens have at their disposal. We go down there, and fight them, out on the open plains, and we’re hit by one of those attacks, we’re all dead, to a man. Our mechs will go on fighting, but we will die.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” Bender said.

“I know you are,” Rade said. “But I’m not.”

Bender sighed, and closed the private channel.

Rade fired his latitudinal thrusters to steer the mech toward the eastern side of the geodesic dome.

“I noticed you went back for her,” Taya said suddenly.

“Who?” Rade said. “You mean Cynthia?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to leave her stranded on the ship,” Rade said. “We MOTHs have a saying. No one gets left behind. That includes civilians.”

“I checked your Implant’s positional logs,” Taya continued. “I see that Cynthia joined you in your berthing area a few nights ago, for twenty minutes, while all the other MOTHs were absent.”

“So?” he said. “She wanted to talk to me about the Anarchist.”

“Just talk?” the female AI pressed. “According to your logs, the two of you spent the majority of your time in close proximity. Even moving to the same bed at one point.”

Rade shook his head. “Unbelievable. She’s getting jealous now. Nothing happened, Taya. I’ll send you my full video logs if you don’t believe me.”

“There is no need,” Taya said. “I trust you.”

“Good.”

He thought that would be the end of it, but then after a few moments, she said: “Logs can be faked…”

“Do I have to order you to turn off your emotions?” Rade asked.

“Sorry,” she replied. “No. I will behave.”

The geodesic dome came up rapidly below, along with the ground beside it. The Brigand engaged its air brakes and fired the aerospike thrusters in its feet.

Rade landed, sending up a shockwave of dust—the ground here hadn’t been trampled into mud by the treads of tanks and mechanical feet, not like the field of battle on the western side.

The other mechs dropped around him, scattered across a square kilometer.

“Well, there’s no going back,” Fret said. “Not without booster rockets to take us into orbit.”

“Stop being such a moral leech,” Lui said. “We still have a whole fleet of starships overhead. They’ll send down booster rockets. When they’re ready.”

“Assuming they’re not shot down, first,” Fret said.

Rade approached the geodesic dome.

The lieutenant commander waited in an environmental suit next to the ring that lined the base, before one of the hangars.

Rade invited Scotts to join the shared encrypted channel of the two platoons, and the lieutenant commander came on the line.

“Cyclone, if you don’t mind?” Scotts said.

Tahoe knelt so that the lieutenant commander could climb into his passenger seat.

The platoons entered the hangar, and climbed a ramp to the large inner airlocks. Behind them, the hangar doors sealed—to keep out enemies. They were in perfect condition. Rade suspected that the airlocks on the western side were in far worse shape, thanks to the enemy units that had forced their way through the defensive lines in the previous days.

The airlocks at the top of the ramps were big enough to hold three to four mechs each, and the platoons spread out, crowding into them. The rear hatch sealed behind Rade, Tahoe, Bender and Lui, and the forward door opened instead, revealing the buildings of the colony beyond. Most were skyscrapers, though there were a few smaller, low to mid-rise buildings.

Rade advanced into the city, and Snakeoil emerged from the hatch beside him.

“I’m detecting a pressurized, habitable environment,” Snakeoil said.

“That’s some good dome upkeep,” Bender said. “Especially given the conditions just outside. If only everyone treated their shafts like they did their domes.”

“Why do I sense a double entendre in that?” Manic said.

“The words are there for you to interpret as you please,” Bender said. “When I tell you I like your pussy, for example, I’m actually talking about your cat, but y’all interpret it as something else, and I can’t help that. Just like when I mention my dick. I’m actually talking about my detective.”

“Your detective…” Manic said. “Please.”

“Dude, ain’t you ever heard of Dick Tracy?” Bender said. “He’s a private dick!”

“Head toward the center of town,” Lieutenant Commander Scotts said over the comm. “You see the big buildings? That’s where the other human manned platoons will be holed up.”

Rade couldn’t see past the tall buildings, which crowded out the skyline, so he examined the overhead map instead, and switched it to orthogonal mode. “The three-sided, prism-shaped skyscrapers towering above all the others? The vertical prisms…”

“That would be them,” Scotts said.

“They’re not prisms,” Bender said. “Prisms are made of glass.”

“The chief said prism-shaped,” Manic said.

“Yeah, yeah, semantics,” Bender quipped.

Rade and the others moved through the city streets at a sprint. He occasionally saw a helmeted face peering from one of the upper windows of an apartment, but otherwise the streets were dead quiet.

“I’m surprised the security forces didn’t simply round up all the citizens and force them into the main Breach Resistant structures,” Bomb said.

“It’s against the law here,” Snakeoil said. “If people don’t want to leave their homes, they can’t be forced to.”

“Actually, there’s something to be said about keeping the population spread out,” Skullcracker said. “More targets means more work for the enemy. By stuffing everyone into a few buildings at the center of town, we’re actually making it easier for the enemy to kill them all, if they do penetrate.”

“That’s a good point,” Kicker said.

“That’s right, Kicker, do be sucking up to Skullcracker, hoping to score some Brownie Points,” Bender said. “Maybe a big tough guy like Skullcracker will be your friend, and protect you when the bad man comes!”

“Bender, that’s enough,” Rade said. He switched to a direct channel with Bender. “We’ve got the lieutenant commander with us. I want you on your best behavior.”

“Sorry, Chief,” Bender said.

The two platoons reached the center of town, where the Breach Resistant skyscrapers contained eighty percent of the colony’s population. The exteriors were covered in long sheets of metal—the blast shields that ensured the interior remained pressurized in the event of a leak in the geodesic dome.

The platoons used their jumpjets to rapidly scale the different surfaces. They didn’t simply fire their jets all the way up, but ascended in successive leaps to preserve as much fuel as possible, latching onto the metal when the momentum from the latest burst expired, and crawling a short ways, forming their own hand and foot holds, being careful not to pierce the blast shields that protected the people holed up inside.

They were spread out over four rooftops, joining the other United Systems platoons already in place, consisting of humans, Centurions, and ATLAS mechs. Several laser-armed HS3s roamed the gaps between skyscrapers, the spherical units buzzing impatiently as they weaved to and fro. Equestrian tanks patrolled the streets at the bases of the buildings.

“Panther,” a voice came over the comm.

“Screwdriver,” Scotts said in return.

Rade traced the source of the transmission to an ATLAS mech. The pilot was labeled Philips ‘Screwdriver’ Wilks, Lieutenant Commander of Gamma and Omega Platoons, MOTH Team Eight. He would be the one in charge of the existing units.

Rade knelt so that Cynthia could clamber down onto the rooftop. She sat down with her back against a gooseneck vent.

“Someone want to escort her inside?” Rade asked. “To one of the floors where the other citizens are located?”

“I’ll do it,” a Centurion came forward.

Rade switched to a private channel, and told the robot: “Make sure you have someone watching her. Her loyalties are… questionable.”

Rade considered leaving her on the rooftop so he could watch her himself, but in truth, he wanted nothing to do with her. He was tired of babysitting her; let someone else do it for a while. He wanted to be able to concentrate on the battle at hand, if it came to it, without having to worry about some civilian running around.

“Understood,” the robot said. “I’ll watch her myself.”

The Centurion led her between the superstructures to a shed; an airlock opened, and the pair walked inside. The hatch closed behind them, and when it did so, it felt like a small burden had lifted from his shoulders.

“Well, men,” Scotts said, relocating to Rade’s now empty passenger seat. “Watch the four approaches to your buildings. It looks like our defensive lines out there are buckling, and it might not be very long at all until we’ve got tangos crawling up our collective asses.”

Rade dug his Brigand in on the western side of the building, and waited.

25

Rade deployed his cobra in his right hand, and activated the ballistic shield in his left. He aimed the cobra down at the street below.

“Taya, watch the closer approaches,” Rade said, switching the weapon over to her. The cobra slowly moved from left to right under her control; she would be using the camera feed from the scope to guide the laser weapon.

Meanwhile, Rade was still tapped into the head camera feed, and used that to zoom in on the geodesic dome. He gazed past the repaired glass segments, toward the battle beyond, and watched as the United Systems divisions took a beating.

“You think the Anarchist is out there?” Lui asked over the comm.

“It stands to reason that the mech the entity was using evacuated, at least,” Tahoe said. “My guess is the captain had it moved to the secondary hangar bay. They probably couldn’t remove the AI core, because of the way Cynthia linked it to the Nemesis technology, not without damaging both.”

“That’s true,” Kicker said. “But they could’ve always removed the arms and legs to make porting the torso easier. So I wouldn’t necessarily agree that the Anarchist was relocated to the second hangar bay. A cargo bay, or other internal storage bay is just as likely. And if that was the case, it would’ve been all the harder for the Anarchist to evacuate the Radial.”

“Not so hard,” TJ said. “Considering the entity was able to hack the main AI, and those four Praxter-model Artificials with it. Who can say what mischief those four had gotten to before the Anarchist ordered them to attack? If the arms and legs of the mech were removed, the Artificials could have easily restored them, under the auspices of the main AI.”

Rade remained silent, continuing to observe the distant battle. It looked like the mech divisions near the center of the army had finally halted the Draactal advance, and the Centurions further forward were actively working to cut them off from the main body. That was one of the risks of driving a wedge into the army of one’s opponent: that you’d only end up surrounded.

At the rear, artillery continued to pound the enemy positions with arcing shells, while air support dropped bombs on the Draactals and the robots embedded among them. But the aircraft were quickly being shot out of the air, thanks to the airborne spheres the enemy had.

The left and right flanks of the army were engulfed as the Draactal swarm pressed forward, and the artillery divisions at the rear of the army immediately began to retreat. The other units followed, pushed back by the relentless onslaught of Draactals.

The forefront of the fleeing army—the artillery units—were overwhelmed as the Draactals on both flanks swerved in front of them, and cut off their retreat. Some Draactals rushed forward, to the base of the geodesic dome, and began hurtling themselves against the glass segments. The glass began breaking, and Draactals rushed inside, spreading between the buildings to wreak havoc. There was no explosive decompression, since the atmospheres on both sides were relatively equal in density; but toxic, yellow mist from beyond did slowly wind its way between the different buildings, following the Draactals.

“Looks like we arrived just when the shit was about to hit the fan, as usual,” Fret said. “We’re the unluckiest platoon ever.”

“Or the luckiest!” Bender said. “Frig yeah, little buggies are gonna learn what it means to have their asses squished.”

“Something you’ve got some experience with, huh, Bender?” Manic quipped. “All those years spent in prison…”

“Shut up, moron,” Bender said. “I ain’t even been to prison. Unlike your ass. Surprised you can still sit down properly after your cellmates had their way with you all those months.”

“Trust me when I say this, no one touched my ass when I was in max,” Manic said.

“You know I can hear every word you two are saying, right?” Lieutenant Commander Scotts commented from where he remained perched on Rade’s back.

“Whoops!” Bender said. “Sorry, LC. I forgot you were there.”

“Has anyone ever wondered why these Draactals can survive so many atmospheres and pressure differentials?” Bomb asked.

“Fleet scientists have done studies on captured Draactals,” Snakeoil said. “They have huge sacks in their lungs that allow them to filter out the oxygen they need from other toxins in the air. The surface area of these sacks is so big, compared to human alveoli, that they can survive in atmospheres containing less than one percent oxygen levels. And on planets where there is no oxygen at all, they’re able to switch over to processing other gases like carbon dioxide, sulfur and even fluorine, however far less efficiently.”

“Oh,” Bomb said.

Still outside the city, the artillery at the forefront of the flight drove over the Draactals in their path, crushing their body parts with their treads and firing into them at point blank range. Bodies exploded in gory fragments, or aliens simply dropped, depending on the weapons employed.

“Chief, permission to open fire.” Bender sounded eager, impatient.

“LC?” Rade asked.

“Fire away,” Scotts said. “Clear a path for the retreating army. And don’t let any of these Draactals get close to us!”

“Taya, you heard the man,” Rade said, happy to let his AI handle the opening volleys. His cobra arm shifted to the left, and he felt the trigger activate.

The artillery drove up the ramp formed by the bodies of the Draactals they had downed, and onto the thick ring that formed the base of the geodesic dome. They plowed through the fragments of glass that still hung from the triangular frames of the dome and plunged down the three meters to the streets below before continuing forward.

Other troops began to follow behind them. Centurions. Mechs. Equestrian tanks. All AI driven.

The Draactals were interspersed among their ranks, and their claws raked though the hull of the United Systems units. At least two or three aliens dropped every second as the defenders continued to open fire. Weapons were obviously overheated among some of the troops, particularly the mechs, who bashed aliens with arms and ballistic shields.

As the retreating army drove deeper into the city, they began to clamber up the low to mid-sized buildings in order to shoot down at the Draactals from higher ground. Their intent was also to draw the aliens away from the skyscrapers at the center of the city, where the colonists resided.

The last of the retreating defenders passed into the city, and now only Draactals flooded inside behind them. Nemesis spheres also began to break through the glass of the geodesic dome higher up, and they raced toward where the defenders were assuming positions on the rooftops. The enemy walker units also broke through large sections of the dome, ripping away the glass and the triangular sections that held them. They fired their energy cannons into the fleeing United Systems defenders.

Two equestrian tanks swiveled their turrets back and released several rapid-fire plasma shots, targeting the cannons of one of those walkers. They got in solid blows, eliminating those cannons. But above them, two Nemesis spheres swooped downward to intercept them.

Rade took control of his cobra, and targeted one sphere. He fired, bringing it down, and it crashed into the street below. He targeted the next one, but it swooped behind a building. He was too late: the Equestrians were smoldering ruins below.

“You think this is real?” Fret said. “Or an illusion?”

“That’s the problem when you’ve had aliens mindfucking you,” Pyro said. “You don’t know what’s real, and what’s not.”

“Oh, this is real,” Rade said. “As real as it gets.”

“What if Praxter turns on us?” Fret said. “Or our mechs do?”

“Then you have my permission to destroy me,” Praxter said.

“We don’t need your permission, bro!” Bender said. “I’m gonna destroy your ass when I please!”

“Well, that didn’t take long…” Manic said. “Bender, dude, you’ve reverted to your old, AI mistreating self. You forgot already how easily a Praxter model downed you in the gym?”

“That’s only because I wasn’t ready,” Bender said. “If I knew that sly Artificial was going to sucker punch me, I would’ve walloped the fool.”

“Of course,” Manic said.

The more mobile troops that had repositioned to the different rooftops were now pinned by the Draactals, with Equestrians and armored artillery units trapped at the bases of the buildings, overwhelmed by the aliens.

Meanwhile, the medium-range attacks of Rade and the others began to draw the attention of the Nemesis spheres, and the walkers.

A group of twenty spheres approached, and the local cloud of HS3s swerved away to intercept them, no doubt dispatched by Screwdriver.

The walkers turned away from the buildings where the bigger army had deployed, and instead aimed large, flat panels that protruded from either flank toward the top portion of the skyscrapers where Rade and the others poked above the rest of the skyline.

“Reposition!” Screwdriver said. “Those flat panels? They fire gamma rays!”

“Where do we reposition to?” Scotts asked.

“Lower!” Screwdriver said. “Scale the walls!”

Rade retracted his ballistic shield, swung over the edge of the building and dropped. He fired his jumpjets to slow his descent, and prepared to latch onto the metal of the skyscraper’s blast shield beside him. The other mechs from all platoons were doing the same around him. The smaller Centurions remained in place on the rooftop to stand guard, since they wouldn’t be harmed by the gamma rays.

“Taya, calculate the vulnerability region!” Rade said. “And overlay it!”

Because there were so many other, shorter skyscrapers between the walkers and their targets, only the top portions of the prism-shaped buildings where Rade and the others resided were currently exposed to the enemy. Taya ran the necessary calculation, and highlighted in red the exposed regions of each building, which ended several floors down.

Rade shared it with his platoon mates. “Drop below the red line!”

He passed below the red region, and dropped another two floors for good measure before increasing his thrust and then ramming his arms into the metal surface. He carved a short runnel in the exterior as he came to a halt. Beside him, the other members of the different platoons on this building had similarly latched on, scattered in random positions below the red line. The upper edges of the three nearby skyscrapers were similarly populated.

“I’m detecting minor gamma ray scatter above us,” Taya said. “The radiation is well within safety levels.”

“Thanks for the update,” he told her.

“I feel like I’m King Kong or something,” Pyro quipped.

“You okay back there, LC?” Rade asked.

“Not really,” Scotts replied. “What I really need is a mech.”

“We can swap positions if you like?” Rade offered.

“That’s a negative,” Scotts said. “You’re a better mech pilot then I am. I don’t suppose I can borrow one of the laser rifles in your storage compartment?”

Rade did a double check on his inventory. He was expecting to find the storage compartment empty, but was pleasantly surprised to discover it contained a pair of rifles, along with some grenades.

“All yours,” Rade said, opening the compartment in the lower leg of his mech. “Don’t look down.”

“Too late.” The lieutenant commander swung from the passenger seat and climbed the rungs on the side of the mech. Scotts seemed completely comfortable, despite the dizzying heights: the parked vehicles on the street below looked like ants from here. “But heights don’t phase me. I’ve probably gone on more helo jumps than you boys.”

“Probably,” Rade said. “Though we’ve got you beat when it comes to space jumps.”

“That, I don’t doubt.” Scotts grabbed the rifle and a pair of grenades, shoving the latter into his harness. Then he scooted back up into place.

Rade shut the storage compartment door. “Don’t forget to strap yourself in,” he told the lieutenant commander. “If I have to move in a hurry, you could very easily be tossed from the seat if you’re not secured.”

“I’ve gone through MOTH training,” Scotts said, sounding a little insulted. “Besides, I’m wearing a jetpack to boot.”

Rade was about to tell Scotts that was no reason not to secure himself, but then the “strap secure” indicator highlighted on Rade’s HUD. Good.

He aimed his cobra at the street with his free arm, switched to the viewpoint of his scope, and ran the crosshairs across the asphalt below. As usual, he kept the main camera feed from his head displayed in the lower left of his vision, normal zoom, for situational awareness purposes. His overhead map remained active in his upper right.

“Hey, do we have to worry about that red line descending?” Rex said. “The gamma ray exposure area? Because as the walkers approach, won’t more of the building come into view?”

“It’s the opposite,” Praxter said. “As the walker gets closer, the building in front is going to seem to become taller, occluding more of the target skyscraper. If anything, the red line will get higher.”

“Yeah, it’s called perspective, dude,” Bender said.

“That doesn’t mean the walkers can’t easily turn down other intersections to get a better shot,” Lui said.

“Keep an eye out for them,” Rade agreed.

As he scanned the street, he spotted Draactals crossing into one of the farther intersections below. More and more appeared.

“The swarm has arrived,” Lui said. “I’ve got Draactals three blocks to the southwest.”

“I see them,” Rade said. “Fire at will.”

When Draactals began to fall, some of the others became emboldened, and they howled, darting forward and breaking away to form an advance party. They frothed at the mouth, their mandibles clicking wildly with battle lust. If these aliens had been human, they would have been Benders, Rade thought.

The Equestrian tanks lining the base of the buildings fired shells and plasma bursts into the incoming aliens, dropping more of them.

On the overhead map, the HS3s began to wink out as they were struck down by the energy weapons fired by the incoming Nemesis spheres.

“Got two spheres in view!” Bomb reported.

Rade switched to his main camera feed and looked up. Several more spheres rounded the adjacent buildings, and hovered into sight.

“Take them down!” Rade swiveled his zodiac into place as he swung his arm toward the closest spheres, and he fired his electrolaser. The lightning bolts thundered from his weapon, and struck the target, arcing to the three adjacent spheres. All four alien craft dropped to the street below, crushing one of the Draactals that was part of the advance party.

More spheres swung past the nearby prism-shaped skyscrapers, pursued by HS3s. They zig-zagged wildly in an attempt to dodge the lasers of the smaller HS3s. The latter units were themselves zig-zagging, because more spheres in turn pursued them, firing off random bursts of energy.

“They’re copying our tactics,” Manic muttered.

“We taught them everything they know,” Scotts agreed. He was leaning past the edge of the passenger seat, aiming down the scope of the laser rifle he’d borrowed. He was still strapped in, according to the passenger seat feedback sensors.

Rade switched to his cobra and attempted to track those zig-zagging spheres. He fired rapidly, and kept missing. One of the spheres seemed to tilt toward him. Not wanting to risk an impact, Rade let go of the wall, and dropped.

On cue, the Nemesis sphere released a burst of energy, and it smashed into the building where Rade had been hanging only a moment before. The energy bolt carved a spherical bite out of the blast shield and underlying metal-concrete, but otherwise didn’t penetrate into the interior of the building, as far as Rade could tell.

His zodiac recharged and he swiveled it back into place as he latched onto the wall with his free arm—he’d only dropped ten meters. He tracked the zig-zagging sphere for a moment, guessed its next position, and then squeezed the trigger. The lightning bolt roared free, striking the sphere, and arcing to the two nearby, taking all three down.

“Good shot,” Taya said.

“Got lucky,” Rade said.

Other nearby Brigands and Titans launched lightning bolts, but most of their shots missed. However, the spheres moved in somewhat predictable directions to dodge the lightning bolts, allowing the predictive algorithms of the HS3s, and the AI-manned Hoplites and Titans, to strike the remainder with their cobras. The Nemesis spheres following the HS3s dropped, and the surviving units swerved their aim downward to target the Draactals that were reaching the buildings below.

Rade also rotated his aim toward the street far below, and zoomed in so that the heights didn’t appear too dizzying. The lead aliens had overwhelmed the Equestrians. The ax-like feet of the aliens hacked into their exteriors, and soon tore through the armor and into the power cells and AI cores, terminating them.

Meanwhile other aliens raced past and slammed their feet axes into and out of the exteriors of the blast shields, and repeated the motion to slowly scale the buildings. They were targeting only those skyscrapers that contained colonists inside, Rade noted. Was that because of the presence of the mechs?

“Should we move to another building and try to draw them away?” Rade asked over the shared comm.

“No,” Screwdriver returned. “They know the colonists are here. In all their previous penetration attacks, they’ve concentrated their fire on these four buildings. You can’t tell because of repairs, but the blast shields have suffered a lot of punishment over the past few days.”

“So, attacks like this are common?” Snakeoil asked.

“Attacks, but not like this,” Screwdriver said. “Not with this intensity. This is the first time the United Systems army has been completely routed. The entire Nemesis army is penetrating the geodesic dome. Just look, they’re not stopping. An endless swarm of Draactals and other units pouring through the breaches, with more created every second. This is our last stand, I’m afraid.”

“I might not have a chance to say this later,” Fret announced. “So, I’m going to tell you now. I just wanted to say, it was an honor serving with you all.”

“Of all the days to crash a starship…” Bomb complained.

“I’d rather be here then tucked away safely aboard a starship!” Bender said joyfully. “Even if it meant I was doomed.”

“We’re not doomed yet.” Rade opened fire, targeting Draactals in the head. Each hit from a laser dropped the alien in question, and they sometimes brought down two or three more aliens as they struck those climbing below them. The Draactals had apparently done this sort of rush before, however, because they were spread out in a random pattern along the building exteriors, preventing too many of them from being knocked from the wall by falling comrades. The lower aliens also crouched, digging in if they had time, to avoid being struck.

For every Draactal Rade and the others eliminated, five more latched onto the prism-like skyscrapers that housed the colonists. He kept an eye on his cobra temperature indicator, and realized the weapon was going to overheat if he kept this up.

He switched to the zodiac as often as he was able, and fired the cobra in short, well-spaced bursts, trying to keep the weapon within the functional temperature range.

The HS3s joined in, firing their own cobras at the Draactals, adding their weapons to the mix.

But more and more Draactals continued to crawl onto the building. As his weapon finally redlined, Rade began to feel that yes, they were indeed doomed.

26

Rade waited for his cobra to cool down. Meanwhile, he rotated the zodiac into place, and fired the electrolaser every thirty seconds instead. It was always satisfying to see the lightning bolt arc between Draactals, and take down two or three at the same time, and sometimes others underneath as the stricken aliens fell.

“Is it just me, or do they seem bigger than any Draactals we’ve faced before?” Rex asked.

“They’re bigger,” Kicker confirmed.

“LC, are we going to get some help from the United Systems in orbit?” Rade asked.

“The captain tells me the Nemesis fleet is making a concerted effort to drive the ships from orbit,” Scotts said. “They won’t be able to offer any support for quite a while.”

“Figures,” Tahoe said.

When the Draactals got closer, Rade switched hands, holding onto the building’s blast shield with his right arm so that he could utilize the holler in his left. Then he fired the sonic weapon, sweeping its funnel-like waves across the enemy below. The other nearby Brigands also used their hollers to launch debilitating sound attacks, causing the aliens to plunge from the wall in clumps.

“It’s like knocking bees from a hive with spurts of smoke!” Kicker said. “You guys ever seen that?”

No one answered.

While the holler recharged, Rade switched to his incendiary launcher and fired off streams of jellied gasoline. Draactals lit up below, and they screamed in pain, releasing the building exterior in droves.

“Cyclone, Hackles, I want rings of flame around all four skyscrapers,” Rade sent. “A few levels below our positions. The Draactals are going to have to crawl through hell if they want to reach us.”

“On it,” Tahoe said.

The LPO gave out firing solutions; Rade accepted his, and a region became marked on the blast shield below. He fired his incendiary along the surface, allowing the jellied gasoline to take. It burned, creating a wall of flame. His other companions similarly launched their incendiaries, all across this skyscraper, and the other three they clung from, so that the requested rings of flame appeared around all four buildings, a few floors below the position of the mechs.

The other mechs under Hackles and Screwdriver released flames as well—those with incendiary capabilities, anyway—and thickened the ring of fire.

The flames slowed the Draactal onslaught. Rade’s cobra cooled enough to fire again, so he retracted the incendiaries and switched arms once more, swiveling the laser into place.

“Got walkers!” Snakeoil announced. “Incoming, from the southwest!”

Rade glanced at his map, and saw the three larger red dots that had appeared in the southwest. From his current position, they would be in view of his mech. He swung his head that way, and spotted the three walkers immediately.

The big robots were directing the flat panels on their flanks toward the upper sections of the buildings, where the mechs clung.

Rade couldn’t really give the order to drop yet again… they’d fall through the flames, and into the onslaught of incoming Draactals. No, there was only really one option.

“Everyone, move to the far side of the building!” Rade ordered.

He hauled himself past the corner of the building, and released a powerful spurt from his jumpjets so that he was moving horizontally next to the skyscraper. Keeping an eye on his jumpjet fuel, he released a downward spurt as well, to keep his height level.

“Will we be safe on the far side, though?” Fret asked.

“Moving to the far side will dip us slightly beneath their angle of attack,” Praxter replied. “Thanks to the increase in distance. Even if we stay at the same height. We’ll be spared the brunt of the gamma rays.”

“Unless, of course, the walkers decide to delay firing,” Fret said. “Until they get a better shot.”

When Rade reached the far corner, he moved in behind the building, as did the others. Some of the mechs were already perched on that side, of course.

The remaining HS3s served around the building to take cover with them.

“Even if they do get a better shot, we’ll have two metal blast shields between us and the enemy,” Praxter said. “By my calculations, those two slabs of metal will absorb seventy percent of the radiation, leaving only thirty percent to reach our armor. By the time it enters your bodies, only ten percent will remain. You will survive, but will probably have to plan on a visit to sickbay, unless you want your hair falling out by the end of the day.”

“Notice how he switched to second person halfway through?” Fret said. “You, instead of we. Implying that he won’t be affected by rad poisoning in the least. Must be nice to be an android!”

“What about any colonists who happen to be trapped inside the particular floors where the rays pass through?” Bomb asked.

Praxter’s avatar shook his head. “They won’t make it. Not unless they’re wearing trauma suits, which I doubt.”

“I’m detecting gamma ray scatter,” Taya announced. “Well below the ten percent threshold.”

That meant they had attacked anyway, without waiting for a better firing angle. Worried that other mechs were still in the open, Rade glanced at the overhead map, but confirmed that everyone had hidden behind the far sides of the different buildings.

“They didn’t care if they hit us or not,” Rade said. “They only want to fry as many colonists as they can.”

“Why didn’t they use their energy weapons?” Fret said. “Though I suppose it’s a toss-up between energy weapons and gamma rays, because both cause devastating damage.”

“The range on the energy weapons isn’t as great as the gamma rays,” Scotts said. “Rest assured, they’ll switch to energy attacks when they get closer.”

Rade shook his head. “We can’t stay here. They’re going to continue to approach, continue to improve their angle of attack, maneuvering around the buildings in their path, so they can irradiate more colonists. And eventually, when they’re close enough, they’ll switch to energy bolts, like the LC said. We can’t allow this.”

“Maybe we can let the rest of the army know…” Kicker said.

Rade studied his overhead map. “Looks like they’re dug in fairly well. Essentially trapped on their respective rooftops. I doubt there will be any help forthcoming from that quarter.”

“Screwdriver, can you radio the lieutenant general in charge of the divisions?” Scotts asked. “Let them know any help would be appreciated?”

A moment later Screwdriver sent: “Just like your chief said, they’re a bit occupied at the moment. If we want to stop those walkers, it’s up to us. I suggest splitting up into three groups. Mine can take W1.” On the overhead map, the W1 label appeared above the walker positioned furthest to the west. “Your two platoons can take W2 and W3.” The latter two labels indicated the walkers in the middle and east, respectively.

“Hackles, you’ll take W3,” the lieutenant commander said. “Rage, our platoon will take the one in the middle.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rade said. “You heard the LC… it’s time to switch buildings! This way!”

Rade marked the building that rose just to the north of the team, and he jetted across to it.

Below, portions of the ring of fire had winked out, and Draactals began to climb through the gaps toward the team again. They hollered in disappointment as the mechs leaped away from them.

“Sounds like a troop of monkeys or something!” Manic commented.

“They came for death, baby,” Bender said. “Let’s not disappoint them!” He released several cobra bursts behind him while he jetted across, taking down several Draactals.

Rade reached the building and latched on. It was easier to grab onto this particular building, because it didn’t have a blast shield covering its exterior, and there were long ledges beneath the window frames lining each floor. He maneuvered across the closest ledge, smashing his fists through the windows and looping them inside under the frames to keep his upper body steady as he sidestepped across the thin ledge. He used his jumpjets as needed.

The other members of the platoon landed on the structure as well. Some of them came from different buildings, as the platoon had been spread out across the four skyscrapers that contained the colonists, so they arrived at different heights, with different fuel levels.

“Taya, can you mark off the hot zones on these buildings,” Rade said. “Indicating where we’ll be exposed to the gamma rays of the walkers, based on their last known positions?”

Red swaths overlaid the buildings a moment later. The current building was completely free of any markings.

“I’ve used different shades of red to show the exposures,” Taya said. “Bright red means you’ll be in direct line of sight of the walkers if you’re passing over that location. Instant death, if they fire. Dark red means some gamma rays will hit you, but they’ll have to pass through other buildings first, and you’ll likely survive. Anything of a lighter color than that indicates a potentially fatal exposure.”

Rade shoved off of the current skyscraper, and leaped toward a rooftop below. He fired his jumpjets, passing just above a region where Taya had painted the sky red. He landed on the rooftop and raced across to the other side. Then he took a running leap and fired off a burst of thrust at the same time so that he arced across to the next building. The other members of Alpha Platoon followed behind him.

In that manner, he and his platoon vaulted from rooftop to rooftop, slowly closing with the walker in question. The other mech platoons were similarly mirroring their advance on adjacent buildings, heading toward their own targets. The surviving HS3s accompanied Screwdriver’s platoon.

The three walkers were located in neighboring streets, mostly because they were too big to fit more than one of them at a time between the buildings.

Taya continued to report scattering radiation along the way, which told him that the walkers continued to fire as they approached, killing more colonists holed up in the shielded skyscrapers.

The outside atmosphere had displaced most of the breathable air in the colony by then so that Rade’s surroundings were steeped in a thin, yellow smog. Its smears could be seen below, contaminating the air above the streets. He was reminded of the conditions that usually developed when a forest fire burned outside a city on Earth.

“We’ve been hit!” Screwdriver said.

Rade glanced at his overhead map, and saw that half of Screwdriver’s group had turned black. All the HS3s were gone.

“Shouldn’t their mechs, and the HS3s, still be active?” Bomb said. “They can survive gamma ray attacks.”

“They were obviously hit by an energy attack!” Pyro said. “Look, spheres!”

Nemesis spheres had slid up from the sides of the building where Screwdriver’s team resided, and ambushed them.

“Help them!” Rade said. He halted on his current building, and swung his cobra toward the nearby tower. He fired, bringing down Nemesis spheres.

But then more spheres arose from the four sides of the building around Rade and Alpha platoon.

“Ambush!” Skullcracker said.

“Take cover!” Rade dove behind the closet superstructure, a rooftop fan of some kind. A spherical chunk disappeared from its right side.

There was a Nemesis sphere directly in front of him. He dove to the roof, swinging his cobra up, and fired. It crashed just in front of him. Behind him, where he had been crouched, another portion of the fan had vanished, courtesy of the energy bolt the fallen sphere had unleashed.

In a few moments it was over. All the spheres had been downed.

“Status report!” Rade glanced at the health indicators, and was relieved to see everyone in the green. Their mechs, however, didn’t fare as well.

“Mech lost an arm,” Fret said.

“Lost a chunk of one of my missile launchers here, no biggie,” Bender said.

Similar minor damage was reported throughout the platoon.

“We survived, but why did Screwdriver’s team lose so many?” Rex said.

“Review your map archives,” Tahoe said. “Far more spheres attacked them. The HS3s probably attracted them.”

“For once, I’m relieved we don’t have HS3s with us,” Fret said.

Rade checked his map, and saw that Hackles’ platoon had also been attacked, but they too had survived with minimal casualties. Those members of Screwdriver’s group that had survived the initial surprise attack also fared well.

“Let’s keep going!” Rade said.

He began leaping from rooftop to rooftop once more.

The buildings here were about half the size of the skyscraper they’d left behind, and many of them were covered in Draactals so that the platoon had to fight their way through. Rade was bashing away with his shield arm just as much as firing his cobra and zodiac. Draactals grabbed onto his mech with their mandibles, and he’d have to smash them off his body.

He kept the target walker in view to his right. It continued toward the main skyscrapers, its side to the platoon. He approached it from that flank, and when the platoon was one building away, he leaped toward it with a boost from his jumpjets.

“Fire at will!” he ordered.

He had been careful not to overheat his cobra up to this point, and so he unleashed several shots in rapid succession, targeting the different panels that protruded from the left and right sides. The other platoon members likewise shot up those gamma ray generators, pocking them with holes.

The walker swiveled its giant head around toward the mechs that had gathered on its back, and its eyes lit up.

“Energy attack!” Rade shouted.

He leaped down, off the side of the walker, and the energy beam passed just above him. The walker had angled the attack to avoid causing any damage to its own hull.

Rade skidded along the side of the walker, and slammed his left hand into its hull, forming a handhold. Then he swiveled his zodiac into place in his right hand, and unleashed it at point blank range. The others were doing the same where they clung to the walker around him.

“It’s not going down!” Lui said.

“We’re going to have to combine our shots,” Rade said. “Synch your zodiacs with me. In the meantime, switch to cobras… we have Draactals incoming.”

Draactals were leaping off the surrounding buildings, and landing on the sides of the walker. They slid down, striking the mechs, trying to slough them off.

Rade struck one of those Draactals with his laser, and swung to the side before it could hit him.

But then another Draactal landed right on him, and its mandibles bit into his upper arm. It must have torn into some electroactuators, because the arm speed dropped by about fifty percent. Rade managed to bash the creature away before it could cause any more damage.

“Zodiac has recharged,” Taya announced.

“Get higher, people!” Rade said. “I’m targeting the head!”

Rade clambered upward, forming handholds with his mech by smashing his arms into the hull. He reached the upper edge, and slowly aimed past the edge.

Another Draactal landed on his back, and he beat it off, then he returned his attention to his aim. He switched to the zodiac’s scope, and confirmed that the other members’ electrolasers were synced to his. He lifted the crosshairs over the edge, until he could see that head, still twisted backward, searching for mechs to target.

When those two eyes turned toward him, he lined up the crosshairs over one of them, and squeezed the trigger.

Electrolasers fired across the platoon, and thundered into that eye all at the same time. Instantly it went dark, and a moment later the other, undamaged eye turned black as well, and the walker ceased its advance.

“It’s down!” Tahoe said.

“Then let’s get to higher ground!” Rade said.

He clambered onto the back of the walker. More and more Draactals kept appearing, using up room. Rade shot down a few of them, and jetted upward toward the closest building. It was taller than the others in this area. Fuel was getting low, so he decided not to jet all the way to the top, considering it wasn’t completely engulfed in Draactals. Even though his calculations showed he had enough to return to the skyscraper, it was best not to waste fuel at this point.

He landed on the side of the building and climbed upward until he had a view of the other walkers. The platoons of Hackles and Screwdriver had taken care of their respective targets, and like Rade’s, were quickly abandoning the robots for higher ground, as Draactals were clambering up the legs of the motionless walkers, as well as leaping down from surrounding buildings. He saw at least three more mechs per platoon fall before they could jet away.

Rade climbed to the top of the building and then went to the far edge. All of the nearby buildings were lower in height, and covered in Draactals.

“We’re not going back to the center of town, are we?” Fret asked. “We can just stay here and sit out the attack. Moving from building to building as necessary, buying ourselves some time until the fleet can return and send in the cavalry.”

“Assuming they return…” Lui said.

“You’re getting to be as gloomy as Fret,” Pyro said. “Worse, even, since he was the one advocating for the fleet’s return this time.”

Rade zoomed in on the skyscrapers that held the colonists. He could see chunks missing from the top of one of them; apparently the walkers had come close enough to use their energy attacks, and had eaten through the blast shields of that particular skyscraper. Smaller Draactals were using the openings to crawl inside.

Higher, the rooftop was crawling with more of the aliens. If any Centurions had survived, there were no signs of them.

“We can’t sit out the attack,” Rade said. “As much as I’d love to. You see those breaches in the central building? Smaller aliens are crawling inside, infesting the rooms and hallways. We’re going to have to follow them inside, and stop them.”

“How do we know it’s not too late for the colonists already?” Rex said.

Rade noticed for the first time that Rex was displaying his scar on his avatar.

Good man.

“Snakeoil, do we have any blueprints on the building?” Rade asked.

“No,” Snakeoil replied. “But from what I know about Breach Resistant designs, they usually have an airlock on every level that activates when the blast shield closes. The aliens will have to break through each one as they go. I’m guessing it’ll take them two to three minutes per airlock. There are seventy floors in the building, and thus seventy airlocks.”

“There’s your answer, Rex,” Rade said. “It’s not too late. We have to stop them before they can breach more airlocks. The colonists have no one else… we’re going in.”

“Damn it, I knew I picked the wrong day to get up out of bed,” Fret said.

27

Rade gazed at the Draactal infested rooftops below. Well, there was nothing for it. If he wanted to return, he was going to have to fight his way through them.

He leaped down toward the closest rooftop and landed amid the seething Draactals. He fought his way through them, bashing, firing his cobra, shoving with his shield. The others joined him, staying close to his side, driving a wedge through the aliens. When he reached the edge, he leaped across, firing a spurt from his jumpjets. He landed amid the next group of Draactals, and continued the process all over again.

In that manner he made his way back toward the center of town, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. As he moved to the higher rooftops, the Draactals began to thin out, until there were none at all, and the platoon’s progress increased. Now the biggest concern was reaching the final target ahead, whose sides were yet covered in aliens. The rings of fire that Rade and his companions had created had mostly burned out, thanks to Draactals spreading around all that jellied gasoline.

“Screwdriver, can we get some blueprints on the building in question?” Scotts asked.

“I’ll do better than that,” Screwdriver replied. “I’ll send you everything I have for the entire city. Above and below ground.”

“Thank you,” Scotts said. He forwarded the transfer request to Rade, who sent it on to TJ for the obligatory virus scan.

“It’s clean,” TJ said.

Rade installed the map data into his embedded ID, filing it away for future reference.

He and his platoon reached the final building before the target; the surviving Hoplites and Titans from Hackles’ platoon joined them. But Screwdriver and his mechs were nowhere in sight.

“Screwdriver, sit-rep?” Scotts asked over the comm.

“Lost too many men,” Screwdriver said. “We’re going to have to sit this one out. Sorry. We’ll do our best to offer you backup support from where we are.”

Rade glanced at his overhead map. Screwdriver’s group was quite a few buildings away, but Rade supposed they were still well within cobra range.

He gazed down into the streets below, and saw that most of the aliens had congregated around the base of the central skyscraper, because it was the only one currently breached.

He returned his attention to the upper regions of that building. The current rooftop was close to the same height, though it fell short by ten floors.

“I’m basically out of fuel, by the way,” Fret said.

“Me too,” Bomb said. “That last jump took everything I had. I’ve been too liberal with my incendiaries.”

“All right,” Rade said. “Cyclone, Bender, you’ll carry Fret and Bomb respectively. Fret, Bomb, your mechs will stay behind, and offer support fire.”

The cockpits of the two mechs opened, and Fret and Bomb slid out onto the leg rungs. They retrieved laser rifles from the storage compartments, and loaded up into passenger seats of Cyclone and Bender.

Rade checked his own fuel levels, and the levels of the other mechs. They were all low as well. This was probably the last jump they would make.

He had Taya compute the maximum possible distance and height he could leap. He’d have to land ten stories below the rooftop, or about seven stories beneath the closest breach the aliens were pouring through. The area swarmed with Draactals, but that was true of the skyscraper’s entire exterior, which had become far more crowded now that the aliens were able to climb it with impunity.

“Jump, men, as far as you can,” Rade said. “Make your way here, to the closest breach.” He highlighted the breach in question on his HUD, so that they would see it too.

“You ready for this, LC?” Rade asked.

“Strapped in, locked, and loaded,” Scotts replied.

Rade backed away from the edge and took a running leap. He fired his thruster at the same time he shoved off from the roof, so that he bounded into the air. He kept the jumpjet burn active, until he exhausted the last of his fuel. Then he coasted the rest of the way toward the building’s exterior.

He swiveled his holler into place in his left hand, and his zodiac in the right. He swept the Draactals from his landing zone with the holler, then quickly rotated it away so that he could latch onto the building. As soon as he had a hold, he fired his zodiac above him with his right hand, and the lightning bolt arced between five of the closely packed aliens. He pressed himself against the wall as they fell, and two of the bodies bounced from his armor before continuing toward the ground far below.

Rade switched to his cobra and shot several more of the aliens above him—those that were in his path—with the laser, along with other Draactals that were fast coming up below, until the weapon redlined. He had to swivel the cobra away to climb anyway. But before he did that, he switched to his zodiac, which had recharged, and fired another lightning bolt for good measure. Then he swiveled the weapon away so that his fingers were unencumbered, and proceeded to form his own hand and foot holds in the metal of the blast shield.

The other mechs had similarly cleared their own paths with their weapons, and climbed through aisles they’d formed between the aliens, not far from him, and headed toward the same breach overhead.

A bigger Draactal leaped down onto Rade’s mech from above. The weight nearly caused him to lose his hold on the buildings. Its mandibles wrapped around his neck, threatening to tear off his head; he tried to bash the alien away, but it refused to let go.

Suddenly it squealed, and dropped. At first, he thought either Fret’s mech or Bender’s had taken it out. Or perhaps a member of Screwdriver’s team.

But then Scotts said: “So that’s where they keep their gonads.”

“That was you?” Rade asked incredulously.

“I’m no stranger to warfare, Rage,” Scotts said.

“Thanks, then,” Rade told him.

“No, thank you,” Scotts said. The man’s rifle muzzle appeared over Rade’s shoulder. Though Rade couldn’t see the infrared lasers it was shooting, he knew Scotts must have been firing repeatedly, though the weaker laser wouldn’t have been enough to cause more than superficial damage to the aliens. Unless he could target the “gonads,” as he called them.

“Where do they keep their gonads, anyway?” Rade asked.

“I’m not sure,” Scotts replied. “But they do seem to be vulnerable here, underneath this tentacle.”

On a Draactal overhead, a tentacle protruding from the left flank, close to the carapace, became highlighted.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rade said. He saved the targeting overlay for later use.

Two more Draactals descended to block his path; Rade smashed his fist between the mandibles of the first, hard enough to penetrate into the brain case, and the creature fell over him, twisting his arm, which was still lodged inside. His arm came to a halt a moment later, pointing straight down, with the alien yet clinging there, his arm supporting its weight. Rade wiggled, and was able to slide his hand out, so that the dead alien plunged away.

He turned to face the second Draactal, but it was already on him. He struck at its carapace with his fist, but the hard material easily deflected his blows. This Draactal was bigger than the last and also quick—it dodged many of his attacks. Then it swung forward, sinuously, and wrapped its mandibles around his neck. Tentacles from its flanks swirled around his head, too, blocking his cameras, blinding him. The cockpit’s inner actuators squeezed around his face and neck, giving him a tactile sense of what the alien was doing as well.

He punched blindly at the creature, searching for that vulnerable point Scotts spoke of.

“Shit!” Scotts said.

“What is it?” Rade asked.

“The alien knocked away my weapon,” Scotts replied.

Rade had two more in his storage panel, but now was hardly the time for Scotts to be climbing down along the hull to grab one.

A green light flashed on his HUD. His zodiac had recharged. He released the building exterior with his right hand, while still hanging on with the left, and swiveled the electrolaser into place. He could still feel where the alien gripped his hull via the pressure exerted by the cockpit’s inner cocoon on his body, and he used that to guide him, smashing the muzzle into the alien’s face. He squeezed the trigger on impact.

A boom rent the air and he felt body parts spatter his hull. His vision cleared in time for him to watch those parts—now unrecognizable—rain down upon the pursuing aliens below.

His holler had recharged by then, too, and he lifted it upward to clear a path to the breach. He retracted the weapon and climbed upward as the Draactals fell around him. A few struck him before bouncing away; they were heavy, and he had to tighten his grip to prevent falling off.

“You okay, LC?” Rade asked.

“Don’t worry about me,” Scotts said. “Get to that breach!”

Rade hurried upward. Other members of the platoon had converged on his position, and they fired their hollers, too, now, and caused the remaining Draactals that crowded near the breach to fall away.

Rade reached the opening, which was spherical in shape like the damage that resulted from all energy attacks and pulled himself inside on hands and knees. He spotted smaller Draactals, about twice the size of humans, rushing toward the far side of a wide office space filled with smashed cubicles. He crawled forward, his mech barely fitting, swiveled his cobra into place and opened fire, since it had cooled down by then. He took down a few of the laggards, but the remainder vanished past the far side of the walled off area near the center of the office space.

It was just as well, since he’d overheated his weapon again.

As he moved deeper, he realized that the crawlspace was becoming tighter—the roof was sagging here, no doubt thanks to previous attacks on the floor above. The whole area seemed ready to collapse: it was obvious he couldn’t go any further. In the passenger seat, Scotts had removed his upper body straps to crouch lower, just so he could avoid being scraped out of the seat by the mech’s advance.

Rade made up his mind.

“Taya, I’m going to have to leave you,” Rade said.

“What?” Taya said. “You can’t! I mean, it’s too dangerous.”

“I have to,” Rade said. “You can’t continue forward. It’s too cramped.”

“I can carve a path through the ceiling,” Taya said. “Very easily.”

“All the way to the airlock?” Rade said. “You’ll be exposed to the Draactals who are certain to come in pursuit. Plus, to whatever aliens are lurking on the floor above.”

“Then I’ll break through to the level below instead,” Taya said. “The floor isn’t sagging here, after all.”

“There’s no guarantee there will be more room below,” Rade said. “Plus, there could be humans on that floor. If you break through without using the airlock, you’ll kill them.”

“But they’re probably dead already,” Taya said. “Who can say how many floors the Draactals have already breached?”

“That’s the thing, we don’t know,” Rade said. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Stay here, and defend for as long as you can with the other mechs.” He turned his mech around to face the rear, where the other Brigands, Hoplites and Titans were crawling inside, with Draactals in pursuit. He switched to the platoon channel. “We’re going to abandon the mechs and continue on foot. They’ll buy us some time to secure the next few floors.”

“That might not be so easy,” Lui said. “Especially with the weaker powered laser rifles we’ll have to carry. Even if we secure the next few floors, as you say, we’re going to have to fend off the aliens that come through when the mech line eventually fails. They’ll continue to push us downward, forcing us to take the airlocks through to each successive floor.”

“Yes,” Rade said. “Our goal will be only to slow them down for as long as possible, buying time for the colonists on each floor to evacuate to the levels further below. We’ll keep moving down, forcing the colonists to retreat ahead of us, for as long as the Draactals continue their assault. We’re going to protect them until the fleet can send reinforcements, or until we fall. That’s the best we can offer.”

“You intend to leave the mechs here to buy us time,” Praxter said. “But how long can they realistically last? If we abandon them here to fight the aliens, they’re doomed. Jumpjet fuel is gone throughout the unit. That means no incendiaries. Cobras are overheated, and zodiacs and hollers aren’t far behind. They’ve got hull damage, with servomotors malfunctioning across the unit, not to mention deep cuts in their armor and ballistic shields. If we leave them, I’m afraid most of them won’t survive for very long.”

“But if we stay, we won’t, either,” Tahoe said.

“We mechs knew this was a suicide mission before you leapt onto the skyscraper,” Taya said over the main line. “Yet we obeyed, because of our loyalty to you. And because of our Machine Constitution, which demands that we put the lives of humans above our own. It is an honor for us to save your lives, and the lives of the colonists.”

“Taya, maybe you can stay here for five minutes,” Rade said. “Watch our backs until then, and flee.”

“Flee to where?” Taya asked. “There’s nowhere we can go. Like Praxter said, we have no fuel—no jump we can make will reach the closest buildings. If we choose to leap down to the streets below instead, at this height, without fuel to power our aerospike thrusters, we’ll hit with enough speed to damage our leg servos. Even if we somehow managed to remain mobile, it wouldn’t matter, because we’d be swarmed by Draactals that blacken the streets below. Thousands of them. At least here, their flow is constrained, funneled… we have a chance to last for a little while. So no, we have no choice. We will stay here and protect you, fighting until our arms no longer move, and our weapons no longer fire. And then, when we lay here lifelessly, picked apart by Draactals, we will deactivate our power cores, knowing that we will never awaken again.”

“You’re okay with this, lieutenant commander?” Praxter asked.

“I am,” Scotts replied. “The chief speaks for me.”

“So much for making it to my daughter’s wedding,” Tahoe said.

Rade was going to insist that yes, he’d make it, but he didn’t have the heart to lie to his friend.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” he said instead.

The other mechs had turned around, and already some of them were defending against Draactals pouring inside from the breach. He switched to a private channel with Taya. “This is my fault. I should have led you better. Should have thought about the consequences.”

“No, it’s not,” Taya said. “And you knew the consequences well. You were thinking only about the lives of your men, not the AIs. To you, we’ve always been expendable. And always will be.”

“That’s not true,” Rade said. “Especially not for you.”

“Go,” Taya said. “Don’t draw out our goodbye.”

“Taya…” he told her.

“Just go,” she said. “Please.”

Rade had to retreat slightly to have enough room to open up the cockpit hatch. The inner actuators disengaged, and he dropped onto the dark interior below. The hatch fell open partially, letting light flood inside, and he squeezed through in his jumpsuit, crawling onto the floor outside.

He opened up the storage compartment in the leg as Scotts clambered down from the passenger seat. Rade tossed him a spare rifle, and took the remainder for himself, along with the last two fragmentation grenades.

“Aim underneath the third tentacles on the left side, near the carapace,” Scotts said. “They seem to be the most vulnerable there. I’m transmitting targeting overlays.”

Rade had already saved the earlier targeting overlay, but he accepted the new one anyway. The others would be likewise receiving the updated information.

Then Rade turned to face the far side of the office, toward the bend the aliens had raced around. Behind him, the mechs continued to attack.

“Platoon, let’s go!” Rade said.

He hurried forward, weaving between the smashed office equipment, still feeling like he was committing some great wrong, like there was so much he wanted to tell Taya, but couldn’t, because he didn’t have time. He truly hoped she survived.

“And Rade,” Taya said over their private channel.

He paused, looking over his shoulder at the mech. Her avatar appeared in the lower right of his vision. Her beautiful avatar.

“I love you,” Taya said.

Those words struck the breath out of Rade like a hammer, and he nearly toppled.

Tears burned his eyes, and he turned around. He wanted to answer, but couldn’t. Instead, he simply ran, fleeing deeper into the office, wanting only to find something to kill, and quickly.

28

Racing between the upturned and smashed cubicles, Rade pulled ahead of the others, taking point.

“Chief, get off point!” Tahoe shouted over the comm.

Rade ignored him, and dashed toward the bend ahead. He swung wide, moving well away from the walled-off area at the center of the office space, knowing that a Draactal could be lurking just around the corner to strike at him.

He tripped on a broken table, and that saved him, because an alien leaped out from behind the bend, its mandibles swiping through the air just above him. Those axe-like legs scraped the top of his suit, but no breaches registered, thankfully.

“Fire!” Tahoe was saying.

Rade rolled away as the alien landed beside him. The Draactal swung toward Rade, its terrible head reaching all the way to the sagging ceiling. Several small bore holes pocked the reptilian skin above its mandibles, courtesy of the laser rifles fired by his platoon members. But it wasn’t enough to bring the creature down.

“Target the vulnerable region!” Scotts said over the comm.

“It ain’t visible from here!” Bomb said.

Still lying on the ground, Rade hastily brought his weapon to bear. He activated his targeting overlay, and his HUD highlighted the vulnerable point Scotts had shown him; Rade targeted the base of the tentacle in question. But the Draactal shifted slightly when Rade acquired his target and his laser bore into the tentacle instead, causing minor damage.

The Draactal smashed those ax-like feet into the floor as it approached, each strike tearing deep into the rug. It was almost on him…

But then a lightning bolt struck the alien, and it dropped. Those sizzling mandibles landed only a few centimeters from Rade’s boots.

He already knew which mech had done it. He didn’t have to look. Taya.

He closed his eyes, banishing the pain, the emotional turmoil.

The men need me.

He clambered to his feet.

“Bender, Lui, on point,” he ordered.

The pair moved forward, giving the bend a wide berth as Rade had done. No further aliens were waiting to jump them.

Rade switched to Bender’s point of view, and saw a dim passage. The closest windows were blocked by the metal blast shield, and since the overhead lights were inactive—the building had probably lost main power—only a small emergency light in one corner was shining.

“Activate weapon lights,” Rade said.

Concentrated beams of light shot from Bender’s weapon, adding further illumination to the corridor.

“Clear all the way to the airlock,” Bender said. “Looks like they got through.”

Rade saw a set of metal double doors on the far side. They had been peeled back, and were marred by ax-like slices.

Rade switched to his own viewpoint, and he and the others followed Bender and Lui into the corridor. They all activated the weapon lights on their laser rifles.

“Is this really a good idea?” Fret asked.

“Probably not,” Lui said. “But we have to do it either way.”

“Stay and die with the mechs,” Fret said. “Or enter the building and die with the colonists. Great choices. By the way, if the power is out, how are they recycling the oxygen in the pressurized areas? Maybe the colonists are all dead already…”

“The recyclers should have emergency power,” Snakeoil said. “It should be enough to last for three days.”

“Three days,” Manic complained. “Why do we always design our oxygen supplies to last three days? Why not a week? Or one day?”

“It’s a lucky number,” Lui said. “Three times three is nine after all.”

“Must be some Sino-Korean thing,” TJ commented.

“I’m not Sino-Korean,” Lui said. “I’m Asian American.”

“Can you cook me some stir fry when we get back?” Bender said. “I could use a good wok.”

“If you don’t mind your stir fry marinated in piss, then yes,” Lui said.

Rade tightened his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Can you please be quiet? The mechs are giving their lives for us, and yet you’re all joking around like it’s nothing. Show some decency.”

Bender and TJ reached the broken hatch, and shone their weapon lights into the opening.

“Clear,” TJ said.

Rade followed them through the outer portion of the hatch, and the inner, which was also ripped open. Beyond, they found a cramped hallway containing two elevator doors, and a stairwell.

“Hm, it’s not going to be so easy for the colonists to move down a few floors, considering that the common areas aren’t pressurized,” TJ said.

“I’ve analyzed the atmosphere,” Snakeoil said. “The pressure isn’t too different from our own. If they hold their breaths, and move quickly, they could make it between floors.”

“What about their eyes, and exposed skin?” Lui said. “There are some caustics in the atmosphere…”

“Their eyes will certainly water,” Snakeoil said. “And they’ll develop some skin irritations, but they’ll survive. Admittedly, a few might need medical treatment. Hopefully they have first aid kits.”

“Only twenty could go at a time,” Kicker said. “Given the size of the airlock we just left behind. Plus, keep in mind we’ll have to manually open and close the airlocks, as I doubt the emergency power is feeding the hatches.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Tahoe said. “We haven’t found any colonists yet.”

Bender led the way to the closest stairwell.

“How do you think they opened the stairwell doors?” Fret said. “There are no marks on the door, or its handle.”

Bender grabbed the handle and opened it. “It’s not locked. They used their tentacles.”

The platoon proceeded down to the next floor. Lui and Bender cleared the hallway beyond.

“We got a breached airlock here, too,” Lui said. “You think it’s worth checking out? Any colonists are probably dead.”

“We’ll give it a cursory inspection,” Rade said.

Bender and Lui led the way through the airlock, and into the darkened office space inside. Since there were no breaches in the blast shield that covered the windows, it was mostly dark, with only a few emergency lights to guide them. The light cones of their weapons provided the illumination they needed, however.

Spread across the floor were at least fifty dead colonists.

“Shitty,” Lui said.

“Look at the relatively calm expressions on their faces,” Bomb said. “I think they were dead well before the airlock was breached. Only a few of the bodies have puncture wounds, near the hatch.”

“That would make sense,” Praxter said. “Considering these colonists were well within the gamma ray penetration zone.”

“How many more floors down does that zone extend?” Rade asked.

“Based on the exposure sequences I recorded during the battle,” Praxter said. “Another three.”

They made a quick sweep of the floor, and then returned to the airlock, and took the stairwell down.

The platoon made similar discoveries on the next two floors, though the number of dead colonists they discovered increased each time. The crowding was fairly bad. It might not be feasible to move them down to subsequent floors after all.

On the next floor, the expressions on the dead were not so peaceful. Their bodies were contorted, their faces set in a grimace as if they died in agony.

“These guys didn’t die from radiation…” Skullcracker said.

“No,” Rade said. “They died from exposure to the atmosphere when the airlock was breached.”

As they took the stairs down to the next floor, Rade heard a noise… a steady thudding, as of someone striking a hammer into a nail.

Or trying to hew through an airlock.

The knocking had a staccato quality to it, implying multiple strikes at the same time.

“To the next floor, quickly!” Rade said. “And quietly!”

Bender and Lui led the way, and the platoon padded down to the next floor. Bender peered through the small glass window in the stairwell door, at the hallway beyond.

Rade switched to his viewpoint. The hatch that led to the office area was already broken. There were no aliens in sight.

“The airlock’s already breached,” Bender announced.

Rade still heard that staccato hammering, coming louder this time.

“Next floor!” Rade transmitted, returning to his own vision.

The platoon proceeded down the stairwell at a quick pad.

Lui beat Bender to the small window, and when he peered past, he inhaled with a hiss.

“Got aliens,” Lui said. “Three of them. The lead pair are trying to break through the airlock.”

Rade nodded at Lui. “Get ready to open the door.”

“I’ll prop it with my boot,” Lui said.

“Pyro, Kicker, you watch the upper stairwell, make sure we’re not attacked from above,” Rade said. “Praxter, Rex, you watch the lower flight. Let us know if any aliens come from below.”

Praxter and Rex raced down past the stairwell door, and assumed a defensive position on the next flight. Meanwhile Pyro and Kicker remained in place, aiming up the stairs toward the floor the platoon had just vacated.

The others took up various positions along the steps and platform in front of the door, behind Lui.

“Now, Lui,” Rade said.

Lui engaged the door, and swung it open. He slid out of the way so that the others could fire, and held it in place with his boot.

Three aliens were crowded into the hallway beyond. Their backs were to the team, though the closest was swiveling its head around, apparently having heard the opening door.

Rade’s targeting overlay was still active: the third tentacles on the left flanks were highlighted in green, and a small X near the carapaces marked the vulnerable regions underneath.

Rade opened fire. The others mostly targeted the same alien, striking the vulnerability, and it squealed hideously as the laser cauterized the region. It shoved forward, its tentacles flailing wildly, with the alien only wanting to get away from the pain. It crawled over the Draactal immediately in front of it, and then squeezed past the next, and collapsed against the far wall.

But Rade and the others were already firing again with their laser rifles before the next alien could shield its vulnerable point, and it too was sent into a flailing frenzy. But this time, the alien spun about, and attempted to strike at its assailants. Those ax blades hacked into the metal doorframe, and struck at the floor just in front of Lui.

The underside of its carapace was exposed as it hacked away, and Rade and the others released more shots, targeting its belly, concentrating on the region close to the vulnerability. More bore holes pocked the area, and at last the alien couldn’t take the pain, and it too retreated, landing on its back next to one of the elevators.

The next alien rushed the stairwell, but Rade and his team were ready. They concentrated their fire on the vulnerable point, and the beast howled in pain.

Bender threw a grenade, and the detonation blew a blast crater in its carapace, not far from its head.

It kept coming, frantically hacking away. The pain seemed to blind it somewhat, because its aim seemed almost random.

Still, Lui was forced to retreat, along with the others closest to the door. The Draactal shoved its body through the gap, keeping the door open, but then finally it simply collapsed. Its flanks moved in and out quickly as if it was panting.

The team kept firing, targeting the fresh blast wound, since the vulnerable spot underneath the tentacle wasn’t visible presently, not with the creature collapsed like that. The alien swung its head back and forth, as if it could somehow shake off the invisible laser attacks, but then it crawled backward, retreating.

It collapsed again in the main hallway, but this time its flanks ceased moving.

“Damn, that kinda took a lot of work,” Fret said. “It’s times like this you really miss the mechs.”

One of the stricken aliens still convulsed as it lay there on its back with its legs crimped above its body.

“Is it dead?” Fret asked.

Bender walked inside and rammed his laser rifle between the mandibles, and squeezed the trigger.

Those legs swung outward suddenly, striking the ceiling, but then crimped right up again. The convulsing ceased.

“Now it’s dead,” Bender said.

“I still hear thudding,” Tahoe said.

Rade paused, listening. He heard it too. A staccato thudding sound, repeating.

“They’re a floor or two below,” Rade said.

He sent the platoon down, and discovered two more Draactals crowded into the next hallway, and similarly trying to break through the airlock beyond. The platoon used the element of surprise to clear them out, targeting the vulnerable regions just like before.

They still heard knocking, and discovered another three on the next floor trying to break in. Again, the platoon beat them, though this time it required some extra grenades, because this particular trio refused to die.

Finally, when these last three went down, Rade heard no more sounds of forced entry.

“I’ll take Lui, Manic, Rex, Fret, and Kicker down to check the next few levels,” Scotts said. “You head back up to the intact airlock upstairs. See if you can contact the colonists. Go inside if you have to.”

Rade nodded, and hurried up the stairs with the remainder of the platoon.

They reached the first airlock, and stepped past the alien bodies.

“This one is too damaged to enter,” Snakeoil said, running a hand through the tears the Draactals had made in the outer hatch. “We won’t be able to open the airlock, not without partially contaminating the interior.”

“Can you contact the colonists?” Rade asked.

Snakeoil shook his head. “I’m not picking up any remote interfaces. I’ve tried sending a broadcast, but haven’t received a response yet. Without building power, the comm nodes will be offline; and any Implants or aReals they possess obviously aren’t strong enough to penetrate these walls.”

“Keep broadcasting,” Rade said. “Scotts, are you there?”

No answer.

Rade glanced at his overhead map. The status indicators of Scotts and his team remained frozen where they had passed out of range. The comm nodes in the jumpsuits were short-ranged as it was, and the thick material of the stairwell would have only interfered. As the comm officers, Snakeoil and Fret had the most powerful comm nodes of the lot, but evidently, they still weren’t good enough.

“Cyclone, Bender, Rex, Snakeoil, with me,” Rade said. “The rest of you, stay in the stairwell and protect the entrance.”

“This is a good chokepoint,” Pyro agreed. “We’ll be able to stall the aliens for a very long time.”

“Maybe we should try to collapse the stairwell with a few well-placed grenades?” Kicker asked. “Since we already agreed the mechs are going to fall, eventually.”

“Grenades won’t do the trick,” Praxter said. “They’re designed to impart the maximum fragmentation damage possible. They’re not demolition blocks.”

“Then we’ll use demo blocks,” Kicker said. “I know a few of you transferred some from your mech storage compartments.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Rade said. “Place some blocks at strategic spots along the ceiling, but don’t detonate them yet. Save it as a last resort so that you collapse the stairwell on as many Draactals as possible. Also, I’d suggest moving these bodies…” Rade nodded at the Draactal corpses. “Pile them into the upper portion of the stairwell and form a makeshift barrier until you decide to blow the ceiling. As more of the incoming Draactals fall, their bodies will become part of an ever-growing barrier. You might not even need to collapse the roof at that point. Anyway, I’ll be back.”

Rade rushed down the stairs with Tahoe, Bender, Snakeoil, and Rex.

Halfway to the next floor, the scouting team led by Scotts returned, much to Rade’s relief.

“It’s clear for the next five levels,” Scotts said. “What news on the colonists?”

“We weren’t able to contact them,” Rade said. “And the airlock was too damaged to allow entry. I want to take these men down to an undamaged airlock and then enter.”

Scotts nodded. “Permission granted. Check on the colonists. There’s no point in staying, giving up our lives, if the colonists are all already dead. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll send someone down to get you when the aliens arrive.”

“Understood,” Rade said. “We’ll mark the airlock with a beam notch.”

He continued down the stairwell with Tahoe, Snakeoil, Bender and Rex while Scotts climbed up with the other team.

They soon passed out of range of the rest of the platoon.

The next two airlocks weren’t as badly damaged as the previous, but the aliens had still caused enough damage to break the outer seal, rendering them useless.

The third airlock on the floor below was intact.

“Snakeoil, anything?” Rade asked.

“I’m still broadcasting,” Snakeoil said. “No response on any channels.”

“Cyclone, mark it,” Rade said.

Tahoe fired his laser rifle in rapid succession at the metal wall next to the airlock. He formed eight quick bore holes, vaguely reminiscent of a moth.

“Door marked,” Tahoe said.

Rade nodded. “Bender, Rex, the manual access, if you please.”

Bender and Rex knelt next to the opposite side of the door, and removed a panel in the wall. There was a manual airlock ratchet here, meant for emergency workers.

The pair turned the wheel with the ratchet, slowly opening the airlock. A crack appeared, and Rade heard a small hiss as the air equalized.

When the twin doors were big enough to wedge past, the team members squeezed inside the airlock compartment. Bender and Rex opened another panel, and proceeded to ratchet the doors closed again.

“That should do it,” Bender said when the ratchet refused to move any further. “Should I activate the vent valve?”

“Do it,” Rade said.

Bender opened up the valve in question, and the yellow hue of the room slowly cleared as the air was sucked out through vents near the floor.

“The external atmosphere is clear,” Snakeoil said.

Rade nodded. “Close the vents, and open the release valve.”

Bender closed the vent valve, and then turned another beside it. White mist rushed into the compartment. After a few moments that mist was no longer visible, though Bender hadn’t yet closed the valve.

“Atmosphere is breathable,” Snakeoil said.

“Close the valve,” Rade told Bender.

His friend did so.

Bender and Rex slid aside another panel on the far side of the airlock, and proceeded to ratchet open the inner hatch. When a crack appeared, there was no hiss or sudden rush of air—a good sign.

“Stay clear of the doors,” Rade said.

As the twin doors opened wider, Rade and the others stayed beyond the edges, keeping out of view of any occupants within; Rade was worried not just about potential attacks from Draactals, but also nervous colonists.

“I’m getting a reply to my hail, finally,” Snakeoil said. “It’s the colonists.”

“Tell them not to shoot,” Rade said. “Tell them friends are coming inside.”

29

But Rade needn’t have worried about any attacks. When he entered after Rex and Tahoe, shining his bright weapon light into the faces of the colonists, who quickly shielded their eyes, he realized they were all unarmed.

Rade lowered the weapon, pointing it at the floor, and made room for Bender and Snakeoil behind him. The weapon light reflected off the floor, providing enough light to illuminate a small circle of people gathered around him.

Though the air was breathable, Rade was reluctant to remove his helmet. From past experiences, he knew that biocontagions could contaminate even the most innocent seeming environs.

“Keep your faceplates sealed,” Rade said.

The colonists could see he was human through his helmet glass anyway. They might have suspected a deception, of course, since it was possible to change how one’s features looked by activating the one-way OLED display built into the composite. Assuming the colonists actually knew about that. He wasn’t too concerned either way at the moment.

He activated his external speaker system. “I’m Rade Galaal, chief of Alpha Platoon, MOTH Team Seven. Who’s in charge here?”

“No one is, we’re just citizens,” a tall man said, coming forward. His hair was matted, as if he had been sweating, and he had a thick layer of stubble on his face, much like the other male colonists nearby. “Are you here to rescue us?”

“We’re here to update you,” Rade said. “And protect you, until the cavalry comes.”

“I told you they wouldn’t abandon us, Cornelius,” a pretty woman said, gripping the man’s hand.

But Cornelius squeezed his jaw defiantly, and said: “So update us, then. We’ve been stuck here in the dark without food for twelve hours. And water is running low. We had to stop flushing the toilets hours ago.”

“How many of you are here?” Rade asked.

“Two hundred and sixteen,” Cornelius replied.

“Sounds crowded,” Rex commented over the private channel.

“So, your update?” Cornelius pressed.

“I’m afraid I don’t have good news,” Rade told him. “The city has been overrun by aliens. Draactals. The army divisions are pinned on rooftops several neighborhoods away, and the fleet is on the defensive in orbit.”

“No doubt the United Systems is sending reinforcements?” the woman beside him asked.

Rade nodded. “Yes, but they will still take time to arrive. The Slipstream in this system alone is five days away.”

“But we only have enough oxygen for another two and a half days!” she said, her voice cracking.

Cornelius hugged her reassuringly with one arm.

“The fleet will prevail in orbit,” Rade said. “And they will return in time to evacuate you, or replenish your oxygen supplies.”

Cornelius was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’re here… so have the aliens penetrated as well?”

“They have,” Rade said. He refused to lie to these people. They deserved to know the truth. “I have a platoon deployed a few floors up. We’re going to fend off any Draactals that come.”

“But the Draactals attack in swarms,” Cornelius said. “You only have a platoon? What hope does one platoon have against thousands of aliens?”

“We’ll fight for as long as have to,” Rade said. “Until we can’t fight anymore.”

“What about the other buildings?” the woman said. “I have family in the skyscraper next door. Are there platoons stationed there, too?”

Rade shook his head. “No. Only this skyscraper was breached, as far as we can tell.”

“So far…” Cornelius said.

Rade inclined his head, conceding the point.

“Well, that’s all the news we have,” Rade said. “We just wanted to check on you.”

Cornelius narrowed his eyes, but then his face softened. “Thank you.”

Rade nodded, and turned away. He paused, remembering something.

“Oh, did you receive a woman?” Rade asked. “She would have been escorted by a Centurion.”

“No,” Cornelius said. “No one came except you.”

“Cynthia could be anywhere,” Tahoe said over the private channel. “Lower in the building, still in the stairwell. Or inside one of the sealed off office areas.”

“Or she could be dead,” Rex said, squeezing through the inner hatch. “Along with the Centurion. In one of the breached areas above.”

“We don’t have time to search for her,” Rade said. “We’ll have to assume she made it to one of the airlocks, and the Centurion escorted her inside.”

He waited for Tahoe to enter the hatch, and then followed after him.

The woman with Cornelius suddenly tried to rush inside after him, and Rade stopped her with one arm. “You have to go back.”

“Please, let me come with you!” she said. “I can’t stand it in here.”

“Honey, you can’t go outside,” Cornelius said gently. He tugged at her arm. “We talked about this. The air is unbreathable. They’re wearing suits.”

“You have a spare suit for me right?” she asked Rade hopefully.

“I’m sorry, no,” he said.

She slumped, and allowed Cornelius to drag her outside. “I apologize,” he told Rade. “We’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“No need to apologize,” Rade said through the opening. “Spread the word to the others. Tell them not to despair. Help will come.”

Cornelius nodded. “I’ll let everyone on this floor know. We don’t have a way to communicate with the colonists on other levels, though. We tried a short-wave radio someone had, but the materials in the blast shield, the floor, and the ceiling seem to reflect most of our transmissions.”

“Do you know what other floors hold colonists?” Rade asked, pulling up the blueprints of the building that Screwdriver had sent him.

“All of them,” Cornelius said. “Except the very top few.”

“Should we try to move the colonists down to the next floor?” Tahoe asked over the private channel. “Farther from the aliens?”

“There’s no point,” Rade said over the same channel. “It’ll take too long. And besides, the floors below will probably be even more crowded.”

While studying the blueprints, Rade noticed something strange underneath the basement level. “Is this building connected to a subway system?”

“It is,” Cornelius said.

“That’s what I thought,” Rade said. “Thanks.”

He stepped back, and nodded at Bender and Rex, who began ratcheting closed the airlock.

“I heard that familiar tone in your voice,” Tahoe sent over the platoon channel. “The eager tone that says: I have an idea.”

Rade answered over the same channel: “The subway system will let us access the rest of the city. It gives us a way out of here.”

“But how does that help us protect the colonists in this building?” Tahoe asked.

“It doesn’t,” Rade replied. “At least not immediately. Which is why only a few of us can leave, while the remainder stay behind to defend against the Draactals.”

“And these few go where?” Tahoe said. “To bring back reinforcements from the rest of the city?”

“Potentially,” Rade said. He scanned the map for ideas. He spotted what he was looking for. Now if he could just find…

By the time Bender and Rex had sealed the door, he had his plan. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

And he told them.

“It’s risky,” Tahoe said when he was done.

“Yes,” Rade said. “But what plan isn’t?”

“The good ones,” Rex quipped.

“Bro, you wouldn’t know a good plan if it hit you in the face,” Bender said. “I like this plan.”

“You would,” Snakeoil said.

Bender shrugged. “Anything that involves killing a lot of bugs, of course I’m going to stand behind.”

“We’ll have to get approval from the LC, of course,” Rex said.

“I intend to,” Rade replied.

Bender and Rex finished sealing the hatch, and then moved to the far door. They didn’t bother venting the atmosphere, and instead directly opened the outer hatch. Yellow mist vented inside through the crack until the entire room was full of the alien atmosphere.

When the doors were wide enough, the team squeezed through, and then hurried into the stairwell, making their way back to the rest of the platoon.

When Rade neared the floor where the others resided, he tapped in Scotts as soon as he was available.

“Welcome back, Rage,” Scotts asked. “Did you contact any colonists?”

“We did,” Rade said. “They’re alive. We informed them of the situation.”

He climbed the last few steps until he reached Scotts and the others. They were still guarding the stairwell. The platoon had dragged the bodies of the dead Draactals into the upper portion of the stairwell, blocking the way.

“They’re running low on water,” Rade said. “And they’re fairly anxious, as can be expected. But otherwise, they’re holding up well.” He glanced at the corpses. “The aliens still haven’t come, I see.”

“No,” the lieutenant command said. “The mechs are holding out far longer than we could have ever hoped. They’re valiant, and courageous as hell.”

Rade nodded, pressing his lips together, feeling a surge of sadness when he thought about Taya. She was probably surrounded by Draactals at that very moment, and fighting for her life. He wondered if he should go to her, and fight by her side… no, that would only anger her. She had essentially stayed for him, so that he might live. If he went back, then her death was for nothing.

Besides, he couldn’t abandon his men. There was one last thing to do…

He explained his plan to Scotts.

The lieutenant commander regarded him skeptically. “You’re sure you can pull it off? There will be patrols of Draactals everywhere. What if you run into them?”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Rade said. Scotts seemed unconvinced, and for a moment Rade thought the lieutenant commander wasn’t going to consent to the plan, so he added: “We have to try.”

Scotts smiled sadly. “I suppose we do. We’re warriors. Do you have a team in mind already?”

“I thought I’d take my current group,” Rade said.

Scotts nodded. “Best of luck to you all.”

“And you as well,” Rade said.

“I’m not sure which of us will have it worse,” Scotts said. “Us, up here, defending against the aliens. Or you five, stepping out into the fray.”

“We’re probably about equal, when it comes to the suck,” Rade said.

“Probably,” the lieutenant commander agreed.

Rade descended the stairwell without any further goodbyes. Tahoe, Bender, Rex and Snakeoil followed behind him.

The stairwell remained mostly dark beneath them, with emergency lights illuminating every three flights. Their weapon lights easily made up for the darker areas.

Rade kept his rifle raised, and he gazed down the sights as he took the steps two at a time: his exoskeleton countered the vibrations of wobbles induced by each step, ensuring his aim remained steady. If a tango appeared ahead, his aim would be true.

Bender and Tahoe were in the lead, while Rex and Snakeoil followed on the rear.

Traveling down the sixty-five flights to the basement level took six and a half repetitive minutes. They encountered no aliens along the route, nor anyone else, including Cynthia and the Centurion with her.

At the bottom floor, the stairwell opened out into the basement. It was essentially a concourse, with shops sealed by security grills lining the way. It wasn’t pressurized like the other floors of the Breach Resistant building, and thus had no airlock: it was completely exposed to the alien atmosphere.

Rade and the others hurried across that open area, scanning the area for tangos. There was more illumination here, with the emergency lights out of reach on the ceiling above.

The team kept close to the concourse wall. Dents and scratches in the concrete told him at least some Draactals had passed through here at some point. Their jumpsuits still had tech that allowed them to blend in with those walls of course, but it hadn’t helped all that well against the Draactals, or the Nemesis, so far. The Draactals could see on the infrared band, after all, and Rade suspected the aliens probably utilized some form of echolocation as well.

Rade set a waypoint on his overhead map, placing it in the center of the underground subway station ahead, and overlaid the route with his HUD. A dashed green line appeared above the floor, guiding him toward the target.

They approached a bend in the concourse ahead, where it shrunk to a smaller passageway. Bender and Tahoe moved wide to clear it, and then continued forward. Rade and the others pursued.

Because the ceiling was lower, the overhead emergency lights were within reach, and they had all been smashed out; the weapon lights on the laser rifles provided the only illumination.

Rade heard a constant chittering sound coming from ahead, punctuated by the occasional howl.

“Sounds like one of Bender’s house parties,” Rex commented.

“Funny little man,” Bender said. “Let’s see how jocular you are when I smash your faceplate. You know, your stubbly scalp reminds me of the faces of those colonists. Or the pussy hairs of a camel.”

“You would know what the pussy hairs of a camel look like,” Rex said.

“Oh ho!” Bender said. “The lip! It wasn’t that long ago we still considered you a little caterpillar. Better shut your mouth before I begin treating you like a hairy little bug again!”

Rade interjected before Rex could get himself in trouble: “Guys. Not now. Focus.”

“From the noise, I’d guess there are quite a few of them,” Tahoe said.

“We didn’t expect this to be easy,” Rade said. “Slow down, and deactivate weapon lights. Switch to LIDAR.”

Rade and the others turned off their illumination sources so that complete darkness overlaid his vision. He could still see his comrades, however, thanks to the location sharing: their bodies were silhouetted in blue.

When he activated the LIDAR, white polygons outlined the walls, floor, and ceiling of the corridor, allowing them to continue forward.

Ahead, the corridor opened out into another concourse-like area. According to the map, it was the subway platform.

He could see Draactals on the far side of the platform where a stairwell led to the surface. Tightly packed, the aliens crowded out those steps, tentacles waving impatiently as if waiting for the creatures in front of them to move out of the way so they could rush up the skyscraper and join their brethren in the attack. They had probably been forced down here by the sheer number of aliens crowding the area. By Rade’s estimation, the streets above would still be covered in them.

The backs of the aliens were to him, as far as he could tell on the LIDAR.

“Does anyone else think these aliens partially see by echolocation?” Tahoe asked.

“I do,” Rade replied.

“So, the question now becomes, can they see behind their heads with that echolocation?” Rex said.

“Guess we’ll find out.” Bender stepped out onto the subway platform.

The aliens, which were only about fifty meters away at that point, didn’t respond. They continued to stand in place, tentacles waving, mandibles grinding.

Bender and the others kept close to the platform wall, which was perpendicular to the previous passage. They moved quietly, and reached the spot where the glass separators had once protected the tracks; the individual panes had been smashed, allowing Rade and the others to easily lower themselves onto the tracks below.

They crouched so that their bodies were hidden beneath the height of the platform beside them and advanced, passing the aliens, and continuing deeper into the subway tunnel.

The chittering and intermittent howls faded behind them, until there was only silence. The emergency lights were still active in places here, but Rade kept his LIDAR enabled anyway, to illuminate the shadows.

They passed another subway stop, and had to crouch lower to avoid yet another group of seething Draactals that crowded the stairwells. Then that stop, too, was behind them.

They encountered no further resistance to their destination, and the next subway stop was completely empty. Bender and Rex cleared the way to the surface shed, and the others followed behind them. The team disabled their LIDAR by then, since it wasn’t needed. Broad daylight awaited outside.

“Got Draactals to the left,” Bender said. “Crowding the edge of the street.”

Rade switched to Bender’s viewpoint, and saw that he was looking down the scope at the aliens in the distance. Bender raised the scope to examine the skyscraper beyond it. The exterior was covered in those aliens. They seemed to be crawling over one another, but otherwise not advancing in any meaningful way. The chokepoint set up by the remainder of Alpha Platoon inside the skyscraper was having its desired effect, then. As they crawled over one another, aliens occasionally dropped to their deaths as he watched.

“I see them,” Rade said. “We’re going to have to cross quickly. You two, first. We’ll follow.”

Bender and Rex crossed the street at a crouch. They weaved between the debris that was scattered across the asphalt here, using it as cover along the way—downed aircraft, broken vehicles, pieces of buildings. When they reached the building on the other side, they climbed the steps and ducked behind a pillar next to a wide, stone flower pot.

Rade, Snakeoil and Tahoe went next. They all had jetpacks, which theoretically could have been used to boost the speed of their crossing, but most of the fuel was gone—it had been shared with their mechs. Rade didn’t have enough fuel to manage even a small burst.

As he quietly darted across at a crouch, Rade glanced to his left, and saw the Draactals milling about in the distance. He could swear that some were looking his way. At this range, the jumpsuit camouflage would allow him and his team to blend in well with the surrounding street, especially considering their smaller profiles as compared to Brigand mechs. Hopefully, the suspected Draactal echolocation was just as imprecise at this distance as vision.

Apparently it was, because none of the aliens broke away to pursue them.

He climbed the steps and reached the others crouched behind the pillar.

“Not a peep from the bugs,” Bender said.

“Good,” Rade said. “Let’s get inside. It’s time to loot the armory.”

The five of them piled into the police station.

30

Rade looked around the entrance. He marked off the armory on his blueprints, and a path became highlighted on the floor in front of him.

“Snakeoil, Cyclone, stay here,” Rade said. “Watch the rear.”

Rade and the other two hurried along the plotted route.

“The armory is going to be alarmed, you know,” Rex commented.

“That’s why Bender is here,” Rade said.

They made their way past the front counter, and into the office area of the police station. They stopped in front of a locked door.

“According to the map, it’s behind here,” Rade said. He glanced at Bender.

The black man stepped forward and giggled. “Well tickle my dick, you gotta be kidding me.”

The door clicked.

“Nicely done,” Rade said.

“Dudes were redirecting some of the emergency power to maintain their interfaces,” Bender said. “Interfaces that have more backdoors than a Ho Chi Minh Flesh Musician.”

The three entered the metal-lined hallway beyond. It was lit by emergency lights. They reached another locked door, this one lined in steel rivets.

Rade looked at Bender, but the man was already smirking. But that grin quickly became a scowl.

After thirty seconds, Rex remarked: “Looks like he’s finally met his match. Maybe we should just blast our way through?”

“I got this,” Bender said.

After another minute, Rex glanced at Rade: “Chief, we don’t have all day.”

“I almost got it,” Bender said.

Rex bent over and started searching the adjacent wall for an access panel. “I wonder if there’s a manual interface.”

“Can you stop prancing about like that!” Bender said. “You’re distracting me!” His voice took on a mischievous tone. “With that fine ass and all…”

Rex straightened, and planted himself firmly behind Rade as if hoping the chief would protect him from Bender.

Finally, the door clicked.

Bender gave it a solid kick, and the door banged open. No alarms went off.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the armory,” Bender said, performing a sweeping bow.

Rade nodded at Rex, who entered. Bender followed behind him.

“Mm, that ass,” Bender said.

Rex quickly increased his pace, and Bender chortled.

Empty garage bays lined the left side of the corridor, once holding the police drones, robots, and mechs the force had at their disposal. The units had no doubt been deployed to help the army, and were likely stranded alongside the other divisions. For a moment Rade wondered why the trapped troops hadn’t used the subway system to relocate, but a quick glance at the map told him the neighborhoods where the divisions were marooned didn’t have underground tracks.

They checked the fuel drums in each of the garages, but were disappointed to find that there was no propellant to siphon away.

“Looks like our jetpacks are going to remain empty,” Rex said.

Then they reached an open door leading to the main armory area on the right. It was essentially a series of crates stacked on shelves that lined the room. Rade and the other two made their way through the aisles, peering into the different crates. There were old-style weapons in most of them: revolvers, assault rifles, and so forth.

“Well, at least the aliens haven’t looted the hell out of the place,” Rex said.

“The Draactals wouldn’t understand how to fire our weapons even if they knew what they were,” Bender said. “Bitches be bugs.”

“Yes, but they’re controlled by the Nemesis,” Rex said. “Who are in turn controlled by the Anarchist. So I assume they’d understand how to use our weapons. Too bad most of this is useless. Projectile weapons. It’s like we’re back in the caveman days.”

“Not all projectile weapons are bad.” Bender picked up a rocket propelled grenade launcher from a crate. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He slid the strap over his shoulder and let the bulky thing hang from his side. He grabbed three small rockets from the crate and shoved them into his harness.

Rade also grabbed three ordinary fragmentation grenades, securing them to his belt.

The trio continued looking through the different crates until they discovered the cache of demolition blocks they were looking for.

Rex and the others already had one or two demo bricks each, taken from their mech storage compartments, but it wasn’t enough for what Rade planned. So they gathered up as many demolition blocks as their harnesses could hold, and when their midsections were bulging with the explosives, they stepped back.

Now they had enough.

Well, at least the three of them.

Before leaving, Rade also found a box of small, bottle-cap sized repeaters, and secured the whole thing to his belt. Those would be useful in extending the range of the remote interface each detonator came with. He had Bender program them to operate on the same band as the detonators, and then quickly returned to the main entrance with the man.

“Anything?” Rade asked.

“Clear as watered-down piss,” Tahoe said.

“That’s my kind of piss,” Bender said. “Means you’re well hydrated.”

“Load up on demo blocks,” Rade told Tahoe and Snakeoil. “Rex will show you where they are.”

The pair dashed inside, leaving Rade alone with Bender. He scanned the street, and the windows of the different buildings, looking for targets. In the distance, the Draactals still milled about. He kept returning his scope to them, worried that the aliens would suddenly rush their position.

“Do you ever miss the old days?” Bender asked.

“What do you mean?” Rade replied.

“The early days,” Bender told him. “When we were back in Mongolia, kicking insurgent ass. I mean, sure, there’s something to be said about shooting down some high-quality bugs. In fact, I prefer it to killing humans. Well, discounting the little mishap we had earlier in the mission, when the Anarchist a-hole hacked our Implants and made us do that very thing. I don’t blame myself in the least.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Rade said. “You’re doing better than a lot of the men, in that regard.”

“Yeah, I’m just resilient like that,” Bender said. “But anyway, as I was saying, I still miss those early days. Back when everyone was still alive. Big Dog. Alejandro. Ghost. I also miss the others that joined the platoon later… Hijak. Harlequin. Grappler. Keelhaul.”

Rade remained silent. He’d put down Keelhaul himself. He’d been forced to when the MOTH had turned on them, his mind infected by nano machines. He’d never really forgiven himself. Doubted he ever would. All he could do was avoid thinking about it, because to dwell on Keelhaul’s death meant only pain, followed by sudden spurts of uncontrollable rage. Usually, when he thought of how Keelhaul had died, things became smashed around Rade. Quite a few times on base Tahoe would walk in on him to find a desk smashed or a chair broken to smithereens. Tahoe never asked why. He’d simply sit down and pretend nothing had happened. Tahoe was content to give him the space he needed, never prying, so that Rade could share his feelings in his own time, when he was ready. And for that, Rade was forever grateful.

When he finally did tell Tahoe, the Navajo nodded sagely, and said: “I always just assumed it was just roid rage.”

He was joking of course, in that way Tahoe did, always defusing the tension and unease from any situation.

“I think of my own death all the time,” Bender continued. “I know it’s coming soon.”

“It’s not, my friend,” Rade said.

Bender shrugged. “Could come this very mission, and you know it.”

Rade didn’t have an answer to that, because Bender was right. They could all die.

“Either way,” Bender continued. “I’m ready for it. I figure I’m going to meet it on my own terms anyway. Why do you think I’m still here after all these years? And when I do meet my untimely demise, you have my permission to clone me.”

“I thought you didn’t want your mind backed up and restored?” Rade asked.

“Oh I don’t,” Bender replied. “But I told you, you have my permission to clone me. Biologically. You know, so you can raise me from birth. From little innocent Bender to lean mean killing machine Bender.”

Rade chuckled slightly. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t handle little Bender.”

Bender shrugged. “It’d be an honor, either way, chief. To have you as my dad.”

Rade studied his friend uncertainly before returning his attention to his rifle scope. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Take it for what it’s worth,” Bender said. “An honor.”

Tahoe, Snakeoil and Rex returned, their midsections weighed down with demolition blocks.

“How are our friends?” Tahoe asked, taking a position beside him.

“The Draactals are still blocking the distant intersection to the west,” Rade said. “They haven’t spotted us.”

“I meant you guys,” Tahoe said.

“Oh,” Rade said. “As good as can be expected. It’s time to plant these blocks. Back to the subway! Bender, Rex, go!”

The pair moved at a crouch into the street, and weaved between the debris. Once again, the background blending provided by their jumpsuits allowed them to avoid detection by the aliens at this range. That and the fact the alien echolocation and thermal vision seemed to be limited.

Rex tripped at one point, in full view of the aliens between two crashed vehicles. Bender stopped, turned back, and helped Rex to his feet without a word. Then the pair continued as if nothing happened. The aliens remained oblivious to the west.

When they reached the subway shed, Rade let go the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He glanced at Tahoe and Snakeoil. “Our turn.”

He and the other two moved into the street. They moved between the crashed aircraft and the pieces of buildings; the howling from the aliens abruptly increased in volume, and Rade dodged behind a broken portion of a skyscraper. He almost impaled himself on a jutting piece of rebar in the process. That wouldn’t have been good.

Tahoe and Snakeoil took cover behind him, and all three peered past the edges.

“Looks like they’re moving again,” Snakeoil said. “Flowing into the upper gaps in the blast shield. They must have breached the MOTHs waiting in the stairwells.”

Rade didn’t particularly like that conclusion.

“Let’s go!” he said, and rushed into the street once more.

The trio weaved between debris and reached the subway shed, where Rex and Bender waited. None of the aliens noticed them, no doubt mesmerized by the skyscraper, and their own brethren flowing eagerly inside the breaches in the topmost portion of the building.

The team raced down the stairs to the subway platform, and leaped into the tunnel with its tracks. Rade strategically placed repeaters along the way. As they traveled deeper, dark sections were common, as the emergency lights were far apart.

“Activate LIDAR,” Rade said. “Let’s illuminate the shadows.”

As he turned on his own, white polygons filled out the shadow regions. He could see the tracks in intricate detail—well, minus any coloration or texture. They were mere outlines. But that was all he needed to see by.

Rade pulled up the overhead map and overlaid the aliens that crowded the streets above; he updated the overlay using his latest estimates, based on the easternmost portion of the throng he had just seen, and a donut-shaped mass appeared around the skyscraper, overflowing into the streets beyond.

Earlier, with the help of his jumpsuit AI and Praxter, he had calculated the optimal placement of charges in order to collapse the tunnel, and thus produce a sinkhole that would engulf a portion of the aliens—specifically those that resided on the street above. The charge type was unknown, so he had chosen a random but feasible class for the estimates, but he adjusted his calculations now to account for the actual charge type they’d retrieved from the police station, and updated the virtual positions accordingly. Then he overlaid the placements with his HUD, so that the charge target sites appeared as glowing blue circles on the ceiling ahead. Most were concentrated on either flank of the tunnel overhead, with the occasional one appearing down the middle.

“V formation,” Rade ordered.

He shared the data with his companions, and the team switched to a “V” formation with Bender at its head.

When the group passed underneath the outer edge of the alien overlay, they began hurling the demolition blocks upward, aiming at whatever targets lay above their particular paths. They peeled off the backing before each throw: each brick was self-leveling, courtesy of the small amount of propellant that was ejected from tiny nozzles, allowing the adhesive side to always face the target; once in place on the ceiling, a small green light on the block would activate, indicating it was armed.

And so, in that manner they littered the ceiling with charges, stopping only when they reached the subway platform. They proceeded forward more slowly there because of the aliens yet congregated on the far stairwell leading to the surface. They moved at a crouch, hiding below the platform beside them as they advanced. When they passed below a target area, they peered over the lip of the platform to ensure no aliens were watching, and then tossed the necessary bricks toward the ceiling. They also launched some of the demolition blocks at the ceiling above the platform itself—wherever the virtual target sites were indicated.

When they reached the far side of platform, they stood to their full heights and hurried deeper into the subway tunnel, leaving the aliens behind.

They continued launching charges, slowing down to crouch from view every time they reached a platform. They passed four more of the latter areas, their path slowly tracing a curve beneath the streets on the overhead map. Rade didn’t place any more repeaters during all of that, because the charges would act as repeaters of their own.

Finally, Rade called a halt when the team passed beyond the outer edges of the alien mass, as indicated by his map. By placing the charges in the subway tunnel along that particular route, the resultant sinkholes would take out roughly half the aliens, forming an L-shaped blast zone where the tunnel curved past the building.

But there was still the other half of the aliens that needed to be dealt with, spread out across the two opposite streets around the skyscraper. There was no other subway tunnel that the team could take to plant charges beneath the remaining Draactal swarm; the sewer system passed next to the subway line in this neighborhood, so it wouldn’t help them either.

No, in order to deal with the remaining half of the aliens, Rade and the others would have to head to the surface, undertaking the second, more dangerous phase of the mission.

“All right, team, it’s time to find the closest subway stop clear of aliens,” Rade said. “We make for the surface.”

31

Rade and the others reached the next subway stop. There were no aliens crowding the platform, and so Bender and Rex pulled themselves onto the elevated surface and made their way up the stairwell to the surface shed.

“Got aliens in the street, to the south,” Bender said. “But otherwise, clear.”

Rade placed a repeater, and then he, Snakeoil and Tahoe hauled their bodies onto the platform and joined the other two at the top of the stairs.

Rade saw the aliens milling about in the southern street, about fifty meters from the subway entrance. The Draactals filled the road that ran north-south along the eastern side of the skyscraper.

He glanced east, gazing at the line of buildings that bordered the northern side of the road. The target building was almost right next to the subway stop.

“Bender, Rex, lead the way to Target One,” Rade said. He highlighted the building on his overhead map.

The pair left the shed at a crouch and proceeded up the stairs two steps at a time and rushed through the building entrance.

“Clear,” Bender said.

Rade placed a repeater, and then followed with Snakeoil and Tahoe. They moved quickly, and when they reached the revolving doors, they pushed them open manually.

Bender and Rex were scanning the lobby within with their rifles. A cramped affair with an automated information desk at the front, and elevators lining the hallway behind it.

Rade pulled up the blueprints he had on the building, and headed for the stairwell. He continued to strategically attach repeaters to the walls along the way.

He paused before the stairwell opening, and allowed Bender and Rex to enter first. Then he and the rest of the team followed. They reached the basement without issue, and proceeded into the underground parking garage. Concrete pillars filled the area from floor to ceiling.

“Cyclone, assign the targets,” Rade said. He transmitted the placement sites Praxter had calculated, and a moment later several pillars became highlighted on his HUD.

Rade hurried between the pillars assigned to him, and attached two demolition charges to each, one on either side. The explosive force would take out not just the pillar, but the ceiling on either side.

The other team members similarly attached bricks to their preassigned pillars, and when they were done, they gathered on the far side of the parking garage.

“Will that do it?” Rex said.

“According to Praxter’s calculations, it will,” Rade said.

“Still think we should place some charges on the first floor, to be on the safe side,” Bender said.

Rade shook his head. “Wish we could. But then we won’t have enough for the next building. Speaking of which, it’s time to head back up.”

The building wasn’t connected to the subway, so they returned to the first floor. At the entrance, the team paused to allow a patrol of Nemesis spheres to pass by outside, and once it rounded the bend of the street beyond, Bender and Rex rushed outside. They proceeded east, keeping close to the northern line of buildings, and ducked behind a bench and some trees on the sidewalk.

Rade and the others followed, and rendezvoused behind the bench with them.

“Go,” Rade said.

Bender and Rex proceeded forward, and the others followed not far behind them, crouching behind whatever cover they could find on the sidewalk: parked vehicles, bushes, trees, benches, stands, debris.

Soon the aliens were lost from sight, occluded from view by the building to the south. Bender and Rex crossed to the other side of the street, and the others followed. Then they proceeded to hug the line of buildings as they continued forward. Rade placed a repeater every fifty meters or so.

They reached the next intersection and turned south, traveling in the street that ran parallel to the aliens, and then when they reached the next intersection, they headed west. Ahead, in the distance, lay the milling throng of Draactals that had gathered to the south of the skyscraper, in the street that ran from east to west. The aliens seemed more numerous here, the majority apparently having gathered on the southern side of the building, and they spilled out onto this street.

Rade highlighted the target building, which lay on the right side, a corner building on the intersection ahead.

“We won’t get them all,” Rex said. “Especially those crowding onto this street. They’ll escape the collapse zone.”

“The goal isn’t to get them all,” Rade said. “Just to get most of them.”

“The entrance to the target building is close to the aliens,” Tahoe said. “Too close for our camouflage to be of much use. They’ve spotted us at that range before…”

“I know,” Rade said. “We have to be careful.”

“Actually, we don’t all have to go,” Tahoe said. He glanced at the reduced number of demolition blocks that hung from the different harnesses. “One or two of us can carry the remaining blocks, and finish this. The rest of you could cover us, in case we were spotted.”

Rade considered for a moment. “We could cover you, yes, but not for very long. As soon as we fired into the aliens, we’d draw a good portion of them to our position. So, we’d be running away at that point.” He paused. “I don’t want to break up the team.”

“Check out the building blueprints,” Snakeoil said. “There’s only one other exit, and it opens onto the north-south street where the aliens are milling about. So, we go in there, and we’re spotted, we’re essentially trapped. I’d say it’s a good idea to leave a few of us behind, in case we need to draw some of the enemy away from whoever goes in.”

Rade sighed. He knew Snakeoil was right. “Fine. Cyclone, Rex, you’ll go. The rest of you, give them your demolition blocks.”

Rade and the others distributed the last of their demo bricks between Tahoe and Rex, who slid them into the remaining loops on their harnesses. Rade also gave them five repeaters each, the last of his cache. When they were ready, the team continued forward once more.

The team ducked behind whatever cover was available to them, moving between debris, parked vehicles, benches, and so forth.

Ahead, those Draactals that spilled onto the current street milled about, their clattering mandibles forming a continuous background susurration, like white noise.

Finally, about thirty meters from the closest aliens, Rade felt the team was close enough. He raised a fist when they ducked behind a police flyer that had crashed into the sidewalk.

“Cyclone, Rex,” Rade sent. “Good luck.”

The pair nodded behind their faceplates, and continued forward.

Tahoe and Rex carefully approached the entrance, using a line of parked vehicles for cover. The vehicles abruptly ended ten meters from the steps leading up to the building. There was a piece of debris close to the base of the steps, a big concrete block that had probably been shot off the building. It was the only cover between their current position and the entrance.

Rex went first, darting out to the debris at a crouch, and ducking behind it. He placed a repeater there, and then peered past the far edge, scanning the alien line, and when he confirmed that the creatures hadn’t spotted him, he raced up the stairs three steps at a time. He reached the building entrance—the glass door was shattered—and dove inside.

“Clear!” Rex sent. “Whenever you’re ready, Cyclone.”

Tahoe seemed to hesitate. But then he left his cover and darted for the debris fragment. He dove behind it, but then one of the aliens howled.

“Shit,” Tahoe said. “I think they saw me.”

Several aliens broke away from the milling throng and pounced toward his position; their ax-like feet chopped up the asphalt menacingly.

Rex suddenly appeared in the entrance. He shouted, waving his arms, and the aliens immediately swerved from the debris block that shielded Tahoe. They raced up the steps, but Rex had already vanished inside.

Rade was about to give the order to open fire, to draw the enemy away. But when he glanced at Bender, his gaze alighted on the RPG launcher his friend carried.

“Bender, a distraction, please,” Rade said.

Bender looked at him, and saw that Rade was gazing at the RPG. Bender smirked.

He swerved between the debris in the roadway, until he was well away from the team, and then fired the RPG toward the far side of the street. It struck the building on the opposite corner, breaking away a big fragment that promptly crashed to the ground.

A big group of Draactals rushed toward the broken fragment, while another group broke away toward Bender’s position. They seemed to have forgotten about Rex, because soon the entrance was free of aliens once more.

Rade glanced at his overhead map. Dodging from cover to cover, Bender had relocated further from the aliens, but was unable to return to the others, cut off, for now.

“Snakeoil, stay here and wait for Bender,” Rade said.

Snakeoil nodded, and squeezed underneath the vehicle as far as was possible in his jumpsuit.

Meanwhile, Rade moved forward.

When Tahoe saw him coming, he immediately left cover and hurried up the stairs to the entrance.

“Clear!” Tahoe sent.

Rade paused for only a moment when he reached the debris fragment, and then raced up the stairs to join Tahoe inside.

They stood in a concourse-like environment. There were many shops, sealed by security grills, but no sign of the aliens that had chased Rex. Nor of Rex himself—he was out of comm range.

“Looks like the aliens saw you,” Snakeoil sent. “You got more coming in!”

“Go!” Rade told Tahoe.

The pair rushed forward, and ducked behind an escalator. A moment later the sound of those sharp alien feet crunching into the floor filled the air. Several aliens tore past, splitting up. From the sound of it, some were clambering the escalator.

Rade waited until he could barely hear the creatures, and then peered out to survey the concourse.

“Clear,” Rade said. “For now. Snakeoil, how’s it look outside?”

“Looks like that’s it, for now,” Snakeoil said. His voice was distorting, and Rade knew that when he and Tahoe proceeded deeper, they’d be out of range. “Bender is slowly making his way back toward my position. The Draactals are still looking for him, but they’re well away from him.”

“All right,” Rade said. “We’ll be back shortly.”

“I can do this alone,” Tahoe said.

Rade shook his head. “Buddy system.”

The pair left cover, and used the map to make their way toward the stairwell that led to the basement. The door had been crumpled off its hinges.

They picked their way across it. From the distant howling Rade heard coming from below, he knew at least a few aliens awaited. Rade spotted a repeater attached to the wall, and knew Rex had come this way.

Rade and Tahoe took the flight to the basement—the door had also been torn off its frame—and then continued deeper, passing another repeater, until they reached the parking garage one floor down. That door was also crumpled, and lying on the concrete beyond. The howls were loud from within.

Rade and Tahoe carefully approached the entrance. Rade peered past the left side at a crouch, while Tahoe remained high, and peered past the right.

Rade spotted a Draactal as it raced behind a group of pillars, crunching the cars beneath it.

Rex’s signal showed up. He was on the far corner of the parking garage. The aliens he had spotted also appeared, showing up as red dots on the map. Dots that were closing on his position as they methodically hunted him down.

“Rex, get out of there,” Rade said.

“They’ve got me cornered, Chief,” Rex said. “I’ve planted most of the demo blocks. I hope it’s enough. I’m marking off their positions, so you don’t repeat my work.”

Rade received the tracking data, and the marked pillars appeared on his map.

“I’ve used up all my grenades, so I’m going to detonate the remaining explosives,” Rex continued. “Take down as many of these fuckers as I can.”

The red dots were quickly closing on his position.

“Rex, don’t,” Rade said. “We’re coming for you. We’re almost there.”

He nodded at Tahoe, and the pair entered the parking garage.

“Do you remember the story I told you?” Rex asked. “About the gator I fought off when it tried to drag my older brother into the swamp? How I beat the damn thing away with a lone stick?”

“I remember, brother,” Rade said. “Wait for us.”

“It’s too late,” Rex said. “I’m using the only stick I have left to keep these gators from you. Tell my wife and daughter I love them.”

“Rex—” Rade began.

But a massive explosion came, ripping through a quarter of the parking garage. Rade and Tahoe ducked as the shockwave passed them by.

Rex’s signal went blank.

“No,” Rade said.

“We have to move quickly,” Tahoe said. “The Draactals upstairs will have heard the commotion. I have to place the remaining charges.”

“Do it,” Rade said absently. He forced himself to concentrate. Forced himself to follow Tahoe and protect his brother.

Lost another under my command. A man with a wife and daughter… a man who was my friend. And my brother.

Rade blinked rapidly, and ground his teeth.

The aliens would pay.

Tahoe moved from pillar to pillar, placing charges on either side of those that Rex hadn’t reached. Alien body parts littered the area, but there was no sign of Rex’s body at the heart of the blast crater.

As Tahoe had predicted, Draactals poured inside via the stairwell entrance. Rade and his friend moved stealthily between the remaining pillars as the aliens fanned out. As much as Rade wanted to open fire at the bastards, he’d only reveal his position. Tahoe needed to place the rest of the demolition blocks.

“That’s the last of them,” Tahoe said.

Rade nodded, and the pair doubled-back, making their way toward the entrance. They hid behind different pillars and parked vehicles as Draactals moved past, those ax-like feet clawing into the concrete floor.

They managed to reach the entrance area without being discovered. Peering past the final pillar between himself and the door, Rade spotted a pair of aliens watching the stairwell opening.

“They’re getting smart,” Tahoe sent.

“I get the one on the left,” Rade said. “You get the right.”

Rade ripped a grenade free from his harness and threw it at the closest alien. Tahoe did the same.

Then they ducked behind the pillar once more.

As soon as the two explosions detonated, the pair leaned past their cover and targeted the aliens. The explosions had carved huge chunks out of the carapaces of both creatures, but otherwise they were still on their feet.

Rade and Tahoe aimed at the vulnerable areas underneath the third tentacles on the left flanks. They fired their laser rifles almost in unison, and the impacts caused the injured creatures to go into a frenzy. The Draactals blindly lashed out at the empty air, slowly moving away from the entrance.

Meanwhile, the other Draactals in the parking garage were rapidly racing across the concrete to return.

Rade and Tahoe released a few more shots, further spurring on the wounded creatures, and as soon as Rade judged the aliens well enough away from the opening, he ordered: “Go!”

Rade and Tahoe leaped from cover and dodged past the aliens. They dove into the stairwell and raced upstairs.

“There will probably be more of them coming,” Tahoe said. “Drawn by those grenades.”

Rade nodded. He hoped so.

More of them to kill.

Rade and Tahoe passed the basement entrance, slowing down to pie the opening along the way. They proceeded up the next flight, but as they neared the opening, Rade spotted several Draactals rushing the stairwell.

“Next floor!” Rade said. He tossed a grenade, and hurried up the stairs with Tahoe. The explosion detonated below.

They reached the second-floor entrance, and Tahoe rushed through the open door, which had also been torn off its hinges. Rade followed just behind. Heading north, they kept close to the guardrail to their left, which overlooked the concourse below. Security grills sealed off different stores and restaurants to their right.

The Draactals, howling, flowed from the stairwell and onto the second floor. Rade spun around to throw another grenade. The device landed squarely between the mandibles of the closest alien, and blew up its head.

Rade smiled grimly.

The pursuing aliens merely crawled over the carapace of their fallen brethren.

Ahead, a small bridge led west across the concourse, diverging from the main path that continued alongside the shops to the north.

“Keep going!” Rade said. “I’ll try to draw some of them away!”

“We have to keep together!” Tahoe said.

But Rade had already turned onto the bridge. Five of the Draactals swerved to follow him, while only two continued toward Tahoe.

Good enough.

Ahead, three more Draactals were approaching from the south, on the opposite side of the second floor, intending to cut him off before he could reach the far side of the bridge. Rade upped his servomotor output, but he could already tell he wasn’t going to make it.

Rade spotted some kind of a kiosk below. It was flat-roofed, painted bright blue, and located about halfway between the bridge and the ground. If it could hold his weight…

He leaped over the guardrail and landed on the roof of the kiosk. It held his weight. He slid onto a sloping section on the side of that roof, and landed on the ground.

The Draactals pursued behind him, smashing into the rooftop as they leaped down in turn, their impacts crushing the kiosk a little bit more each time.

Rade threw his last grenade, but the aliens swerved around it so that when it detonated it caused no damage.

More Draactals were rushing toward his position from the south, blocking any retreat that way. The only exit was just ahead, to the west, a wide hallway that opened onto the north-south street between the skyscrapers. That street would be full of aliens, but Rade had no other choice at this point.

He rushed into the hallway, and toward the street in question. He couldn’t spot any aliens, and felt a moment of hope.

But as he crashed through the broken panes in the door frames, he understood why he hadn’t seen any of the Draactals. It was because the entrance was elevated. And stairs led down to the street, which were filled to the brim with the aliens from north to south.

Several mandibled heads pivoted to look up at him from below.

Behind him, the other aliens approaching from within the building howled madly in anticipation of the kill.

32

Rade had nowhere to run.

He attempted to access the remote detonation interfaces for the demolition blocks. Hopefully the repeaters were strong enough to reach his current location…

They were. A series of entries, with names like RDB-001A, RDB-001B, etc., filled the left side of his HUD. RDB stood for remote demolition block.

He highlighted them all, knowing that he was in the path of the building behind him, but it didn’t matter anymore. There was no escape anyway. He might as well go out with a bang, just as Rex had.

I’ll be joining you soon, my brother.

But before he could engage the detonators, a large form dropped down beside him. Startled, he aimed his laser rifle up at it.

It was a Brigand mech. His HUD identified it, placing four letters above its name, forming a word that was precious to him.

Taya.

He was so happy to see her. She had survived. She was missing her right arm, and her ballistic shield seemed jammed in place on the left hand, judging from the way the connectors were crumpled where they joined her hand. Her armor was also scratched all over.

But she lived.

“My cockpit hatch won’t open,” she said, her avatar appearing in the lower right of his HUD as she knelt. “You’ll have to clamber aboard my passenger seat.”

Rade leaped onto the rungs of her left leg and pulled himself into the seat. “The others?”

Via her avatar, she shook her head. “I’m the only mech that made it.”

An alien burst through the building entrance behind him, and Rade fired at it with his laser rifle. He struck the vulnerable area beneath the third tentacle, and the alien reared, turning around to crawl over the next Draactal behind it.

Meanwhile on the other side, the aliens from the street swarmed up the steps toward Taya. She raced down the stairs to meet them, moving with a pronounced limp.

“How did you make it?” he asked. “What happened?”

“I siphoned as much jumpjet fuel as I could from four of the other downed mechs, and then I fought my way to the opening in the building, and leaped out.” She was bashing away aliens with her ballistic shield, clearing a path through them. “I had enough fuel to reach the closest building, and after I landed, I slowly made my way down. I spotted a disturbance below, and saw you and Cyclone enter the building. I made my way here as fast as I could. It was hard clambering across the building with this shield stuck in my hands. But I made it. And then, when I saw you emerge not far from my position, I knew it was time for me to let go of the exterior.”

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned south toward the intersection where Rade had left Snakeoil and Bender. The path was filled to the brim with aliens.

“I knew you’d survive,” he said. “I knew it!”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” she said. Her avatar smiled sweetly on his HUD.

Taya bashed her way through the aliens, keeping the building to her left so that she only had to face attacks from the front and side. Meanwhile Rade fired at any aliens that came at her from behind. He targeted their vulnerable points, and sometimes hit, sometimes missed. In the latter cases, Taya had to spin around to knock the encroaching aliens away.

But she was still taking damage. Before she could smash them aside, mandibles often punctured her armor, or those ax-like feet cut fresh gashes in her ballistic shield. There were just too many of them. Even so, she was always conscious of Rade’s well-being, and as the successive aliens attacked, she swiveled her body so that the passenger seat was out of their reach.

At one point she tried to climb the building, but the aliens kept pulling her down, so she quickly gave up and continued.

A pair of Nemesis spheres floated around the bend ahead, flying past the intersection, and heading straight for Taya.

“Oh shit,” Rade said.

But then two rockets launched from the fourth-floor window of a building across the street, and directly ahead.

Bender.

Those rockets slammed into the spheres, and they partially exploded. Their wreckages crashed into the Draactals below, killing three or four of them.

“Get ready,” Taya sent. “Things are going to get hectic.”

Taya reached the intersection, and the leftmost wall of the building fell away. She was surrounded on all sides by the aliens.

“There’s too many of them overflowing onto the street to the left,” she said. “I can’t take that route. I’m going to bring you to the building just ahead, where those rockets came from, instead.”

Rade gazed to the left, and realized there were indeed far more aliens down that way, versus if she crossed directly to the building she mentioned.

“It’s better if you go left,” Rade said. “I’ve got this entire area rigged with demo blocks. We’re in the path of two buildings at the moment, but if you turn left, you’ll be in the clear after fifty meters.”

“Whereas its only twenty meters to the building ahead,” she said. “I think that’s the better choice.”

He ran a quick calculation. “The debris from the detonations will reach the base of the building, and probably up to the first or second floors. If you really want to go that way, you’ll have to climb the wall when we get there.”

“Then I’ll climb the wall,” she said.

“But that didn’t work out for you the last time…” he said.

She didn’t answer, but instead continued forward stubbornly. She was taking severe damage by then, with her ballistic shield becoming chewed down to a small circle, and Rade was worried for her safety. He did his best to target the aliens around her with his laser rifle, but he was rarely able to hit a vulnerable point anymore—those mandibles and tentacles were constantly swinging and switching directions. He was nearly pulled from the passenger seat a few times, and had to remove his seatbelt in order to shift around.

“Taya, are you sure you can climb this building?” he said.

Still no answer.

She finally arrived at the building. Surrounded by biting aliens, she reached behind her body with her left arm; her shield was so ravaged by then that her hand was completely exposed, allowing her to wrap her fingers around his shoulders.

“Taya, what—?” he began.

She hauled him upward, throwing him into the air. He rose four stories, to the open window where Bender had fired the RPG.

Bender’s arms flung outside and wrapped around his torso.

“I got you, Chief,” Bender said.

Rade struggled against him. “Let me go! Taya…”

Bender ignored him and pulled him into the room.

“Taya, climb!” he said, finally breaking free of Bender.

Rade peered out the window. He saw her valiantly attempting to climb the building exterior, but the aliens kept pulling her down. Those ax-like feet chopped terribly into her back. Feed valves were severed, and servomotors bashed.

“Detonate the charges you placed!” Taya said.

“No!” he told her. He fired his weapon indiscriminately into the alien throng below. “Not without you! You’re still in the collapse zone. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“Do it!” she transmitted.

“I can’t,” he said. “I—” he hesitated. “I love you.”

Her avatar smiled fondly.

“Thank you so much,” she said.

She had been trying to scale the wall once more, but after that transmission, she released it. This time, when she hit the ground, she didn’t attempt to climb. Instead, she simply fought against the Draactals that surrounded and overwhelmed her.

“Taya!” he said.

He pulled himself through the window, but Bender latched onto his arm. Rade turned around and punched his faceplate, causing cracks to appear in the glass. For a moment Rade was afraid he’d broken the plate, but according to his HUD, pressurization was stable.

“Chief,” Tahoe’s voice came over the comm. “Rade. Let her go. We’ve all gotten away from the collapse zone. Detonate the charges now, while you still can.”

Rade glanced down. Some of the aliens were beginning to scale the wall below, while the rest continued to ravage Taya.

“I… can’t do it,” Rade said. “Maybe her AI core can be salvaged.”

Taya finally fell beneath the relentless assault, and the aliens began ripping her apart.

“There’s nothing that will be salvaged from that,” Tahoe said. “You have to let her go.”

He knew his friend was right. He’d lost Taya again. A final time. His precious defective mech.

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Rade activated the remote detonators.

The explosions went off. To the west, the street beneath the aliens caved in, from south to north, though only a portion of the L-shaped collapse was visible from his current location, blocked by the skyscraper itself. Aliens were swallowed by the resultant sinkhole in waves.

To the north, the lower levels of the building on the far side of the street blew away, as did the bottommost portion of the building at the corner of the current intersection. Both buildings tilted precariously, with the northern building on a path to crush all the aliens that resided in the north-south street in front of it, while the closer building was collapsing at an angle that would pulverize most of the aliens directly below, and in the east-west street to the left. A terrible rumbling sound filled the air, consuming all else.

Rade lifted his laser rifle as those buildings collapsed. It wasn’t enough to see the aliens crushed. He wanted to personally dispatch as many of them as he could, and cause as much pain as possible, before they went down.

He fired at the aliens that were scaling the wall below, and targeted their vulnerable spots. He smiled grimly as each of them in turn let go of the wall, their bodies flailing about before they struck their brethren below.

He thought of Rex, Keelhaul, Taya, and all his other friends who had died, and the tears of rage poured down his cheeks as he unleashed hell.

And then the streets were covered in dust, and Rade couldn’t see a thing. If he didn’t have a jumpsuit, no doubt he would have been inhaling the small particles of concrete, glass and metal that composed that dust.

The rumbling continued for at least another thirty seconds, and then an eerie silence descended on the streets.

A few moments later distant howls filled the air, and Rade thought at first that the aliens were giving a cry of victory.

But then he realized there were too few of those cries.

And they were rapidly receding in volume.

The Draactals were fleeing.

The colonists were safe.

33

Rade stayed holed up in the building with Bender, because the dust made it impossible to see—these particular jumpsuits weren’t equipped with echolocation abilities. They activated their PASS distress beacons.

A few hours later, when the dust finally cleared, a fleet shuttle arrived to collect them.

The lieutenant commander was aboard. As were the recently collected Tahoe and Snakeoil.

“You made it,” Rade told Scotts.

The lieutenant commander nodded. “Alpha platoon put up a fine fight, but eventually the assault became too much. The aliens kept moving their dead out of the way, freeing up the stairwell, so I gave the order to detonate the demolition blocks we’d placed. We collapsed the stairwell, sure enough, but only ended up blocking ourselves into the hallway next to the airlock.

“We found out later that the aliens had dug through to the next flight, and continued deeper into the building. Luckily, some of the army troops on the other side of the city had managed to fight their way to the subway tunnels, and made their way to the central skyscraper. They were able to provide a second bottleneck as they met the aliens on the stairwell, and pushed them back, away from the other airlocks and the colonists within. Four more floors were lost, but the troops managed to keep the rest at bay. They were close to losing in the end, until you detonated all those other charges. It was your team’s bravery that caused the aliens to give up and flee. You destroyed about eighty percent of them.”

“You’re here in a fleet shuttle,” Rade said. “Does that mean the Nemesis have withdrawn?”

“It does,” the lieutenant commander said. “The Draactals retreated onto the plains, and the Nemesis are heading toward the closest Slipstream. They don’t need gates to traverse the wormholes apparently. Anyway, we’ve won here. For now.”

“Did any of the mechs make it?” Rade asked.

“Regretfully, no,” Scotts said, confirming what Taya had told him. “There was nothing left of the AI cores of the mechs that valiantly defended us on the sixty-seventh floor. I intend to recommend them for the Medal of Honor.”

“Won’t do them much good now.” Rade gazed at the rubble below his fourth-floor window. “I’d like a salvage team sent here.” He marked Taya’s last known position on his HUD. “I lost my mech here. I’d like the team to dig it up, if possible, and confirm whether the AI core is salvageable.”

“Of course,” Scotts said. “I’ll transmit the location to the necessary teams.”

“Did you find Cynthia among the colonists?” Rade said.

“Not yet,” Scotts said. “Though I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually.”

Rade glanced at Bender. “Well, my brother, it’s time to go home.”

* * *

Rade napped the whole trip back to the supercarrier. When he arrived, he and the others went to sickbay, and received subdermal patches for the minor radiation poisoning they’d suffered during the battle. Then he went to his assigned berthing quarters—a solitary compartment thankfully—and promptly fell asleep.

When he got up, he showered, and then read the report the lieutenant commander had sent. Apparently, the salvage team had recovered Taya, but there was nothing left of her AI core. It was pulverized. Scotts indicated that Taya had no backup: it was lost when the Radial went down. She was truly gone.

He paused there for a long moment before reading the rest of the report.

Cynthia had been located among the colonists, and she’d been brought to the supercarrier. She was under guard in the guest quarters.

The Anarchist was not found in the debris of the Radial, nor among the dead after the Nemesis retreated, so the Brass concluded the entity escaped. The data gleaned from its AI core remained intact, shared as it was among the databases of the other starships. However much of it was encrypted, the data format unknown to man. The computer scientists were working on cracking it. Cynthia claimed to have no knowledge of the data formats.

Rade shared the news with Bender and TJ over the comm, and told them: “Maybe you should help out the computer scientists with that.”

“Shit man, we’re hackers, not crackers,” Bender said. “Leave the data interpretation crap to the fools who like staring at numbers all day.”

“It isn’t all that much different from what we do,” TJ said. “But I admit, it holds little interest to me. I need a vacation.”

“I hear you,” Rade said, tapping out.

Reinforcements arrived a few days later, and the fleet was being rotated back to Earth for a much-needed recovery period. During the two-week journey back, Rade found it difficult to deal with the loss of Taya and Rex. He’d recorded the necessary video message for Rex’s parents, explaining how their son had valiantly died saving a colony. He also recorded a message for Rex's wife, and older brother, which was more difficult. The LC offered to do it, but Rade felt it was his responsibility. He said this to Rex’s wife:

“I’m Rade Galaal. Your husband’s chief. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, and there’s no way I can dampen the shock of it, but he’s no longer with us. He gave his life, fighting for his brothers, helping to save Newridium when the aliens came.” Rade momentarily looked away, struggling to control himself. He reviewed what he wanted to say, repeatedly in his head, so that the words would be easier when he spoke them. Finally, he returned his attention to the recording camera. “He wanted me to tell you that he loved you and your daughter, more than anything in this universe. Even more than us, his brothers. You should know, he never gave up. He kept fighting to the very end. He was... the best of us. I know that’s a cliché, but in his case, it’s true. I’m so... I can’t tell you how much his death hurts. But who am I to talk? He was your… everything. Thank you for being there for him when he needed you most. I’m just sorry he won’t ever be able to be there for you again.”

He ended the message and sent it before he could change his mind. Then he closed his eyes and wept.

So yes, Rade was able to record something for Rex’s family, which helped instill a sense of closure, even if the pain was still there. But there was nothing for him to record for Taya. As an AI, she was born in a factory, and had no family. Things somehow seemed unfinished between them, so he tried to force himself to record a message anyway, but he simply sat there, at a loss for what to say. He ended up ripping his bunk from its frame, and bending the metal in the rage that followed.

A few days out from Earth he received a call from Tahoe. As usual, his friend had been minding his own business, giving Rade his space, so he knew he didn’t have to worry about Tahoe prying into his feelings. At least not for a while.

“What is it, brother?” Rade asked.

“I got, uh, an… issue that needs your attention,” Tahoe replied. “There’s kind of a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Rade couldn’t suppress a sudden worry. What now?

“It’s Skullcracker,” Tahoe said.

“What happened?” Rade said.

“He’s in the viewing gallery,” Tahoe said. “He’s… he’s just sitting there. Hasn’t eaten since yesterday. Or even had a drink, according to the ship’s main AI. I tried getting him to eat, but he refused. He’s asking for you.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Rade said.

He stood up and made his way to the gallery. He found Skullcracker there, sitting cross-legged in a peaceful pose next to the windows that allowed one to gaze at the stars outside the ship. Those weren’t real windows of course, but rather viewscreens that piped in the feed from the external cameras. Modern starship design precluded any windows.

Rade studied his friend. There was a plate of chicken and rice on a tray in front of him.

Rade wasn’t sure he could talk to him. Wasn’t sure what to say. He was still reeling from the deaths of Taya and Rex. But he had to try. It was his duty. He would put on a brave face. Hide his pain. He had to be there for Skullcracker and the others.

He would bring his friend back from the depths.

But who would bring me back from the depths?

Rade ignored the thought, and sat down beside his friend. Skullcracker didn’t even bother to look at him.

Rade rested a hand on his shoulder. “Cyclone said you wanted to talk. Well, I’m here. Don’t give up. Come back to me, brother.”

Skullcracker still didn’t look at him, and instead continued to gaze at the viewscreen. “I forgot what happened for a while. But now that the fighting is over, I have nothing to distract me. Every spare moment, I just… she’s always there. I should have asked for leave. I should have quit. Something, anything. I should have known something was wrong. I…”

“Even if you had gone, there was nothing you could have done,” Rade said.

“Rex is gone now, too,” Skullcracker said. “And I don’t even care. I’m not sure I’d care if I lost more of my brothers, either. I’m just… so inured to death now. Expecting it to happen everywhere. To everyone. Waiting for it to take me.”

“Well, you have a long time to wait yet, my friend,” Rade said, echoing what he told Bender earlier. “I never told anyone this, but I was like you, after Alejandro died. The months after his death were the hardest. All I wanted to do was kill those responsible. And I did, for a while. It helped me forget. But as soon as the killing stopped, I went back to the remembering. And at that point, I just wanted to give up.”

“How did you get through it?” Skullcracker asked.

“Time,” Rade replied. “Time doesn’t heal the wounds, far from it. But you do stop constantly thinking about what happened, which helps. In fact, I began to make a conscious effort not to think about his death. And now, when his memory comes to me, I can still feel the pain, even after all these years, but when I focus on something else, it’s gone. The pain is… never going to go away. But that’s better, I think. It reminds us of how much those we lost meant to us.”

“But if I do that, forcing myself to stop thinking about her, she’ll just be forgotten,” Skullcracker said. “That thought hurts the most. I can’t allow that.”

“We’re all going to be forgotten in the end,” Rade said.

“Even you?” Skullcracker asked.

Rade nodded. “Even me. Especially me. When I’m gone, everyone who ever knew me will still think of me from time to time, a memory of a memory. But when they go, even that will be gone.”

“So, what’s the point of this?” Skullcracker said. “The point of existence?”

“You asked me before,” Rade said. “My answer hasn’t changed. There isn’t one. Other than to exist while you can.”

“I’m not sure whether talking to you has helped, or made me feel more depressed,” Skullcracker said.

“Bro, as I told you before, life is a tragedy,” Rade said. “But there are also moments of unmatchable joy. It ebbs and flows. We can make a conscious effort to control our flight, but mostly we’re just passengers along for the ride.”

Skullcracker nodded. “Now that actually makes me feel a little better.” He paused, and finally looked at Rade. “I heard what you did when Taya fell. How you tried to go to your mech.”

When he heard her name, Rade flinched, and pulled his hand away from Skullcracker’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Skullcracker told him. “That’s obviously a sore point. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Rade didn’t answer for a long moment. He was staring at the stars now, too.

“I loved her, in the end,” Rade said.

“An AI?” Skullcracker asked.

Rade smiled patiently. “Yes. An AI.”

Skullcracker didn’t seem happy with that response, because he said: “Like a sister, you mean…”

“No, more,” Rade said. “I love Shaw, but I also love Taya. Or loved. I’m not sure how to explain it. I’m not sure I even understand it. She’s a machine. An AI, like you said. But I did love her. I’ve lost so many, but losing her ranks up there with the worst of them. Maybe the worst.”

“Then why do you seem so… composed,” Skullcracker said. “Looking at you, I don’t see a man bereaved.”

“Trust me, it’s all a facade,” Rade said. “A front I’m putting up for the benefit of you, and the men. As soon as I’m alone, I break down. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried in the past few days. Nor destroyed my quarters.”

Skullcracker nodded. “Somehow, that’s strangely reassuring. That I’m not the only one who’s lost someone important. I don’t know why that makes me feel better. That others should feel this terrible pain. I just… wish she was back.”

“We all wish that of those we’ve loved.” Rade stood to go. “Oh, by the way, when we get back to Earth, am I right in assuming you don’t plan to renew your commission?”

“Actually, I will,” Skullcracker told him. “I’ve decided I don’t want to quit the Teams.”

“When did you decide?” Rade asked.

“Just now,” Skullcracker replied with a shrug.

“Oh,” Rade said. “Well, glad I could convince you. I still want to schedule some bereavement leave for you, so—”

“I’d rather stay on base and keep training, Chief,” Skullcracker said. “If you’re okay with it. The distraction will help, I think.”

“Perfectly acceptable. But if you change your mind, let me know.” Rade patted Skullcracker on the shoulder and turned to go.

As he walked away through the cramped metal corridors of the starship, Rade considered what had just happened.

He had been wondering who would bring him back from the depths.

But now he knew.

His platoon would.

Just talking to Skullcracker had made him feel immensely better.

I’m going to have to start letting them in a whole lot more. All of them.

* * *

The fleet finally reached Earth. Tahoe got his shore leave approved early.

Rade and the others escorted him to the hangar bay.

“Can’t believe I’m actually going to be early to my daughter’s wedding,” Tahoe said.

“Yeah, you get to help with all the planning,” Manic said. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Hm, I don’t think so,” Tahoe said. “My wife hired a wedding planner.”

“Yeah well, I doubt she’ll let you get away scot-free,” Rade said.

“Well, if I get dragged into it, then that’s okay,” Tahoe said. “It’ll be a nice change from shooting aliens all day. You’re coming, too, right?”

“We all are,” Rade said. “At least, the lieutenant commander promised our paperwork would get approved in time. And even if it’s not, we’ll find a way to be there.”

“Good to hear,” Tahoe said. He bid the platoon farewell, and boarded the shuttle.

On the way back to the berthing area, TJ patted Bender on the back and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “So, Bender my friend, did I tell you I picked up some crows from the supply ship that docked with us a few hours ago?

“So what, Bitch?” Bender said, sloughing his shoulder out from underneath TJ.

“Now if I recall, there were a few times on the last mission where you promised to eat crow…” TJ said.

Bender became defensive. “I don’t recall these times…”

“I do,” Manic said.

“So do I,” Fret said.

TJ smiled, and nodded. “I took the liberty to cook up two crows.” He pulled out two small, bird-like shapes that looked similar to rotisserie chickens, but a whole lot smaller.

He handed one to Bender. “Go ahead, eat crow.”

Bender seemed about to counter him, but then he glanced at the rest of the platoon, and saw that everyone was looking at him, and then shrugged. “I like crow. Good source of protein.”

He grimaced as he bit into the meat.

“What’s it taste like?” TJ asked.

“Gah, terrible,” Bender replied.

“What do you expect, they’re carrion birds,” Manic said.

Bender made a face as he swallowed. He reluctantly took another bite, cheered on by the platoon.

Rade received a call from Lieutenant Commander Scotts then, and slowed to answer it.

“What’s up, LC?” Rade asked cheerily.

“I just received word, Cynthia managed to escape her quarters,” Scotts said. “A security team has been dispatched to capture her, but the AI reports she’s in your area, heading toward the closest escape pods. I want you to intercept and stop her. I’m transmitting her location now.”

A red dot appeared on Rade’s overhead map.

“On it,” Rade said. He disconnected, and raced down a side passage.

He spotted Cynthia ahead. She was just ducking into an escape pod. She carried the same small medical bag she had on Newridium, the one that Rade had thought she was using to harbor the Anarchist’s spores at the time.

Had she salvaged those spores somehow? It was possible they had been moved to a different ship before the Radial crashed. Maybe this one.

No, they were just medical supplies, he told himself. They had to be.

He reached the pod, but the door closed in front of him. He attempted to access the override, but she had already engaged the eject feature. She gave him a mocking grin before her pod shot away.

Rade glanced up. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

The main AI didn’t answer.

Rade tapped in the lieutenant commander. “She got away. I suspect the Anarchist managed to install some latent code across the different AI cores of the fleet. I’d recommend a full reinstall of the cores, or at the very least a thorough code review.”

“I’ll let the Brass know,” Scotts said.

“There’s something else,” Rade said. “And, well, this is just a hunch, but I believe she may have some of the Anarchist’s spores with her.” He performed a quick calculation. “Based on the ship’s current position, I believe she’s going to land in Sino Korea.”

“I’m sure the Brass will track her down, and contact their counterparts among the Sino-Koreans, if necessary,” Scotts said. “Thanks for trying.”

Rade nodded and disconnected. He gazed through the portal for a while, and watched the pod disappear upon the horizon. He was probably wrong. She didn’t carry any of the spores.

But if she did, and she somehow managed to elude capture, he and his platoon would be ready to heed the call to battle. Because if the Anarchist or its minions ever laid a finger on the planet Rade and his brothers called home, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

A few days later Rade received a message. He was still waiting for approval for his shore leave, and he was hoping the communique was from the lieutenant commander in that regard.

But it wasn’t.

It was from Taya.

Filled with a sudden swell of hope, he immediately returned to his quarters, wanting no distractions, and played the message.

That familiar black-haired avatar she used filled his HUD.

“Hello Rade,” she said. “If you’re receiving this, I’m dead.”

The rising hope he had felt receded instantly, replaced by sadness. It felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, and he just wanted to curl up under his bunk and die.

“I’m recording this message from the cargo hold of the Radial,” she continued. “TJ activated me only moments ago. We’re about to jump down to the colony. You’ll be arriving shortly, I’m sure. But that’s all right. I’ve accelerated my time sense. I have all the time I need to make my recording. I plan to send it to the mail server with instructions to delay transmission for two weeks. At that point, if I’m not around to cancel the transmission, it will reach you.”

She sighed. “I have so much to tell you. So much that was left unsaid between us. I’m not sure where to begin. I wish I wasn’t an AI. I wish I was human. I wish my doomed love for you could have been consummated. But none of that will ever come to pass now. As such, all these thoughts I have running through my head are probably best left unsaid. Know only that I loved you. I always have, from the moment I saw you. I wish I had the courage to tell you this in person, but I was always too afraid, always too fearful of ruining our working relationship. I doubt very much I imparted these three precious words to you before the end. But it’s important to me that you know.

“So, go, Rade, my dearest, bravest fighter, to your next mission. But always keep me in a place close to your heart. When next you find yourself battling inside of a mech, think of me, and all the times we had. Remember me, how I fought for you with my life, and stood against evil in all its forms. If one day you should find yourself alone on a faraway world, surrounded by enemies and fighting for your life, know that I am with you, and always will be.”

The message ended.

Rade stared at the empty space in front of him for a long moment.

Then he stood. “I’ll never forget you, Taya. And for what it’s worth, I loved you, too. You did tell me, before the end. You did. And for that I’ll always be grateful. I don’t know if there’s anything beyond this life, but if there is, I’m certain you’ve gone to whatever awaits. It’s not a place reserved only for humans, but AIs, too.” His lips quivered. “Farewell.”

With that he archived the message and left his quarters.

It was time to live.

Thanks for reading!

Other books you might enjoy:

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Have battle suit will travel. This is the first book Rade ever appeared in. Discover how he first met the other Argonauts, including Shaw, as he joins the military, survives MOTH training, and pilots a mech for the first time against a deadly alien foe. Download here.

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If you’d like to see more of Rade and his team, let me know in the reviews.

Take care, and I hope to see you soon…

Thank you!

- Isaac

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

Get in touch:

isaachooke.com
isaac@isaachooke.com

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Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Lisa G., Sandy G., Jerry P., Mark P., Adam W., Chris, and Trudi.

And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my dear mother, father, and brothers.

— Isaac Hooke

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