E-Day III: Dark Moon
Author: Nicholas Sansbury Smith
Date: 2022-04-03 00:00:00+00:00
Description: The final battle for humanity is about to begin ... On the moon, Ronin Hayashi trains to protect the colonies from the inevitable invasion of the machines. While he prepares to stand his ground, Sergeant Tadhg Walsh is planning an escape mission to deliver a weapon to the resistance on Earth. At Neptune Station, Captain Akira Hayashi and Shadow Squad have returned from a deadly journey into enemy territory where they learn the machines are building an army at an astonishing rate. After continued attempts to contact the Lunar Defense Corps for help, Shadow Squad accepts the hard truth--the LDC
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services LLC - Kdp

Published by Great Wave Ink Publishing

E-Day 3: Dark Moon

By Nicholas Sansbury Smith

Copyright © March 2022 by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events locales or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

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Books by New York Times Bestselling Author
Nicholas Sansbury Smith

E-Day Series

E-Day

E-Day II: Burning Earth

E-Day III: Dark Moon

The Sons of War Series (From Blackstone Publishing)

Sons of War

Sons of War 2: Saints

Sons of War 3: Sinners

Sons of War 4: Soldiers (Coming soon)

The Hell Divers Series (From Blackstone Publishing)

Hell Divers

Hell Divers II: Ghosts

Hell Divers III: Deliverance

Hell Divers IV: Wolves

Hell Divers V: Captives

Hell Divers VI: Allegiance

Hell Divers VII: Warriors

Hell Divers VIII: King of the Wastes

Hell Divers IX: Radioactive (Coming Summer 2022)

Hell Divers X: (Coming Winter 2023)

The Extinction Cycle (Season One) (From Orbit Books)

Extinction Horizon

Extinction Edge

Extinction Age

Extinction Evolution

Extinction End

Extinction Aftermath

Extinction Lost (A Team Ghost short story)

Extinction War

From Great Wave Ink Publishing

The Extinction Cycle: Dark Age (Season Two)

Extinction Shadow

Extinction Inferno

Extinction Ashes

Extinction Darkness

The Trackers Series

Trackers

Trackers 2: The Hunted

Trackers 3: The Storm

Trackers 4: The Damned

New Frontier Series (Trackers Season Two—Launching 2022)

New Frontier: Wild Fire

New Frontier 2: Wild Lands

New Frontier 3: Wild Warriors

The Orbs Series

Solar Storms (An Orbs Prequel)

White Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

Red Sands (An Orbs Prequel)

Orbs

Orbs II: Stranded

Orbs III: Redemption

Orbs IV: Exodus

Contents

— 1 —

— 2 —

— 3 —

— 4 —

— 5 —

— 6 —

— 7 —

— 8 —

— 9 —

— 10 —

— 11 —

— 12 —

— 13 —

— 14 —

— 15 —

— 16 —

— 17 —

— 18 —

— 19 —

— 20 —

— 21 —

— 22 —

— 23 —

— 24 —

— 25 —

— 26 —

— 27 —

— 28 —

— 29 —

— Epilogue —

About the Author

To my editing team: Ziggy, Lynn, Yalonda, Tony, and everyone else. Thank you for your assistance and encouragement. You helped me bring this saga to life.

“Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

—Sun Tzu

— 1 —

Rattling echoed through the caverns.

Engine Lieutenant Andy Jackson crouched behind a rock wall with two Coalition soldiers, holding his energy axe while he tried to pinpoint the location of the advancing Canebrakes. The click and hiss of their electronic communications ricocheted from every direction.

The island was crawling with the metal monsters.

Jackson was somewhere on the eastern side of Cat Ba Island, deep inside the cave system of the mountains. He couldn’t say exactly where. For the past few hours, he had pushed deeper inside the labyrinthine tunnels, trying to find a place of refuge to ride out the attack.

The two Coalition soldiers he had linked up with were just behind Jackson, their antlered helmets moving through the darkness like two blind deer. Neither had night vision optics, but they weren’t stupid enough to turn on their flashlights.

He guided them through the black corridors using his infrared night vision sights (INVS). It was too dark to make out much other than rough shapes, even with his augmented vision, but his other senses helped him navigate the treacherous environment.

Jackson listened to the drip of water, clink of metal against stone, and the distant rattle of the machines. Sweat dripped down his face as his heartbeat quickened.

Over the last month, in the face of death and danger, it had continued to beat for only one thing—fighting.

That time had come. Even so, as the clawed feet and blades of Canebrakes scuttling through the caverns got closer, the seven-foot tall and two-hundred-and-sixty-pound Engine felt a trickle of fear.

He still couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from.

The Coalition fighters heard it too, and ducked in response, their armor clanking against each other. Jackson turned and brought a finger to his helmet.

The soldiers froze, silent, while Jackson kept listening. The clatter of the Canebrakes faded away, melting back into the caves.

After another few minutes of silence, Jackson was comfortable enough to turn on the data-pad screen built into his armored wrist. He brought it up to the Coalition Commandos. Both removed their helmets to have a good look.

They were young men, maybe eighteen, perhaps younger. Hardly older than boys. Not a surprise to Jackson. He was used to fighting against kids in his career. The Coalition didn’t have an age requirement, and anyone could join.

He would never forget seeing a ten-year-old try and lift a pulse cannon in Egypt three years ago. It did not end well for the kid when he fired at a Piston squad.

But while these young men were young, the tattoos across their face and antlers on their helmets indicated they had experienced combat. Death and killing was no stranger to them. Chances were good they had even brought down someone Jackson knew.

It didn’t matter now.

Not with the Canebrakes and the behemoth walking towers of metal.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend…

Jackson raised the data-pad to get a better view of the young men’s faces. Blood seeped from both their ears. Their eardrums had likely ruptured when the superstructure machine let out one of its high-pitched screaming sonar bursts.

Jackson and the other Engines were protected by their helmets and augmented ears, but these soldiers had suffered painful injuries and likely hearing loss.

That made communicating hard, especially when he wanted to ask them how the hell to get out of here. He tapped out the message on his screen.

The two kids exchanged a glance, then shook their heads, unsure.

“I’m a guard, not a scout,” said one in a scratchy voice, a little too loud. He was overcompensating for his damaged hearing.

“Too dark to know where we are,” said the other, just as loudly.

Jackson raised a finger to his lips again, signaling them to talk quieter.

“Please… don’t leave us behind,” said the first kid.

Jackson almost felt bad for them.

A glance at their antlers reminded him they had killed his brothers and sisters in the war with the Nova Alliance. All sense of empathy vanished.

Stay close to me, he typed on his pad. Then he shut it off and turned his back to them, another unthinkable thing before E-Day. Before then, these boys would have jumped at the chance to thrust their energy spears into his spine.

Now he was hoping if they did encounter the machines, these kids would fight side-by-side with him.

The tunnel sloped ahead, taking them down into a cavern with standing water. Jackson crouched down, noticing paintings on the walls from ancient natives right next to him.

Another violent tremor shook the mountain. Chunks of painted rock rained down, crashing into the water with violent splashes.

These quakes were distant, but there was no doubt the massive towers of moving metal were causing them. Jackson thought back to the moment he had broken orders and told Captain Akira Hayashi and Lieutenant Shane “Ghost” Rossi he would stay behind to hold them back.

Hold them back, Jackson thought, restraining a laugh.

He was lucky to be alive. The giant machine had almost captured him on that beach. He escaped only thanks to a distraction from the Coalition fighters.

Jackson had hoped to help buy time for Shadow Squad and the civilians to flee. Maybe he did. Maybe the group had made it back to Neptune Station to regroup and come up with their next plan to fight back.

For that, Jackson was glad.

He searched the darkness of the rocky tunnel, seeing only jagged shapes along the walls and floor. Nothing moved in the black.

He turned again, using his data-pad to communicate.

Stay here, he typed.

Jackson got up and started through the cavern, skirting around the water and trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible.

He made it all the way to a connecting tunnel before he stopped again. Faint moonlight pierced the darkness at the end of the snaking rock corridor. They were close to an exit.

Jackson twisted back to the young commandos when he heard the shriek of metal on rocks. The damn kids just couldn’t figure out how to be quiet.

The shriek came again just as Jackson began the trek back to their position.

His heart leapt into his throat.

This wasn’t armor scraping rock…

It was from claws scratching against the cavern floor!

But Jackson didn’t see anything moving in the darkness.

Where the hell was it coming from?

Craning his neck, he finally saw it.

Scrambling upside down along the stalactites above was a Canebrake. The fanned head cut through the darkness, the eyes dark as it hunted for prey. Two segmented arms reached out, finding new holds as it moved like a grotesque monstrous spider.

Jackson had no time to warn the kids crouched across the room as two hooked blades glowed to life.

Both blades shot from the Canebrake and ripped into the kids’ backs, yanking them into the air. Horrified yells of pain echoed as they flailed against the mechanical abomination.

A static-filled roar exploded through the chamber, drowning out their wild cries.

Jackson prepared to activate his energy axe but hesitated as one of the kids was ripped in half. It was already too late. The other was tossed against a boulder, his spine shattering with a deafening crack.

A shrill whimper of pain followed, along with a plea that chilled Jackson to his core.

“Mama, mama, help me!”

The Canebrake skittered overhead, dropping to the ground over the kid. Leaning down, it clamped a jaw of serrated teeth around his screaming face.

Another crunch resonated through the chamber, silencing the lad.

Not five seconds had passed since Jackson first saw the beast. He stood there ready to fight, but it didn’t seem to detect him. The cool-suit and his armor masked his heat signature and heartbeat. But if he activated his energy axe, there would be no escaping the monster’s fury.

The machine tilted its fanned head, the blue pupils glowing to life as it scanned the chamber. Jackson could practically feel its robotic eyes tracing his body. He willed his heartbeat to slow, trying to fade into the black.

Then suddenly, the machine skittered away, vanishing into a twisting corridor.

A thunderous rumble shook the rocks.

Jackson stiffened while streams of grit pelted his helmet and clanked off the sides.

As the tremor settled, it was replaced by the rattling of Canebrakes lurching through the passages. Those sounds soon faded. This might be Jackson’s only chance to escape.

He took one last look at the mangled bodies shadowed by pools of blood. There was nothing he could do for them now.

I’m sorry.

Hearing the kid call for his mother brought out a side of Jackson that he normally buried in battle.

No one deserved to die like this. Not even Coalition scum.

He started down the tunnel when a loud rattle boomed.

It seemed to be coming from the same location as just seconds before, almost as if the source of the sound hadn’t moved. Was the Canebrake responsible trapped under a pile of scree from the shaking earth?

Maybe the machine was calling out for help.

Ah, bad luck, you piece of metal shit.

Jackson hurried into the tunnel the murderous Canebrake had taken. He sprinted ahead, activating his energy axe with an electric hum. Not two minutes later, he saw his gut feeling was right. The murderous machine lay in a heap of rubble.

Other jagged rocks had fallen on limbs and torso. Usually, a six-hundred-pound beast like this could free itself, but when the ceiling collapsed, a boulder had crushed the fanned head.

Still, it wasn’t completely harmless. Two glowing blades stuck out of the scree.

He approached cautiously as his axe blade burned with a fiery crimson glow.

The beast was probably letting out a distress signal that would call others to help. He had to act fast.

He scaled the pile of rocks, one of the Canebrake’s blue pupils following him, still glowing in the flattened head.

“Night, asshole,” he said.

Jackson brought the axe down on the exposed part of the face, cleaving off a filet of slagged metal.

The blue pupil dimmed, as did the hooked blades protruding from its arms.

One less Canebrake in the world.

That was a total of eight he had killed since E-Day.

For the next fifteen minutes, he ran hard, back the way he came, to the chamber that promised an exit.

Another quake gripped the caverns, violent shaking bringing down a section of wall. Rocks tumbled from the ceiling ahead, sending up a cloud of dust.

He pushed through the haze and climbed over the pile.

Down the corridor, he saw moonlight.

Jackson advanced slowly again, cautious on the way out of the corridor to an overlook above the jungle canopy.

A light drizzle of rain tapped over the leaves, spraying Jackson when the wind shifted.

Jackson slung his axe over his shoulder, securing it to his back. He drew his pulse rifle and crouched to scan the jungle.

The entire mountain suddenly seemed serene. Peaceful.

No rattling of Canebrakes. No more quakes or explosions.

The dark sky was absent of Praying Mantis fighters.

Suddenly, he felt alone.

An odd and terrifying feeling. Worse almost than being attacked by the machines.

Jackson started down a trail with his rifle shouldered. He made it under the cover of the trees where he found deep gouges in the mud, each filling with rain. Definitely Canebrakes. Judging by how messy and waterlogged they were, he guessed they were old.

Pushing through the foliage, he continued his trek until the sound of crashing waves hit his ears. He peeled back a few stray branches to reveal a glimpse of the bay past a clearing. Keeping his rifle up, he stalked through the dark until he spotted a Piston partially covered in mud.

The man was face down and the bottom half of his body was completely gone.

Jackson recoiled slightly, shifting his gaze as he surveyed his surroundings. The rest of the man, roping intestines and broken legs, were hanging from a tree branch ten feet above him.

Jackson kept going toward the water. He passed four more dead Pistons forming a halo around a downed Canebrake at the top of a slight hill.

On the other side were the remains of more human soldiers, but there wasn’t much left. Just piles of gore.

Jackson crossed a field and stopped at a cliff overlooking Ha Long Bay. Movement in the gray haze of rain over the water caught his eye. He crouched.

Far out into the bay, a superstructure plowed through the murky depths, the box-shaped head still above the water.

It wasn’t alone.

Chasing it were dozens of Canebrakes, all swimming after the mammoth metal creature. Maybe they were leaving the island after thinking they had finished massacring everyone here. They were probably moving onto their next prey.

Jackson put his rifle over his shoulder and started down toward the beach. The only way he would find anyone was to follow them.

He started wading out into the surf when a voice called out.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jackson swung around. There were three Coalition commandos and two Pistons hiding in the brush.

The one that called out started to jog over.

Jackson recognized her.

Lieutenant Tumea. She had a slight limp, and a charred hole in her upper right shoulder plate.

“I’m going after them,” Jackson said, gesturing toward the machines.

Tumea chuckled, but then stopped.

“You’re serious?” she asked.

He nodded.

She indicated the forest with a jerk of her chin. “Fool, come with us.”

Jackson hesitated. “Where are you going?”

“To the shuttle. We have to get there before the machines find it.”

Tumea turned away and started back up the beach.

“You want to kill machines, then follow me,” she said. “I’m the queen of killing machines.”

***

Two days after arriving, Tadhg sat on the dusty bunk inside the abandoned mining station, Olympus, above the Shoemaker Crater.

He reached up with a shoulder out of instinct before realizing his arms were still gone.

Grumbling, he then said, “Play audio.”

For the tenth time in the past day, he listened to the transmission Captain Jake “The Snake” Harback had intercepted on his recon mission of Earth.

“To anyone that’s listening, this is Engine Captain Akira Hayashi of Shadow Squad. I have spent the past month healing from my wounds with my comrades, and if you can hear me, know this… Soon we will rise, soon we will draw our swords. Together, as one, we will fight.”

That message reassured Tadhg he was right all along.

There were survivors on Earth and Shadow Squad was still in the fight.

He ached to get back there to help, but first, he had unfinished business on the moon. Plus there was also the logistical problem of getting to Earth. While they had a stealth MOTH here at the station, the pilot refused to take them on what he called a suicide mission.

Not that Tadhg blamed the fellow.

They really needed Captain Jake Harback if they had any chance of surviving the journey. The Nova Alliance ace pilot had already made the trip once, and lived to tell the tale. He was now sitting in prison at Kepler Station to keep him from spilling what he saw on that mission.

But the plan to free Captain Harback had been delayed when War Commander Thacker released a broadcast announcing the planned and failed coup led by Councilor Keanu Cotter.

Along with Tadhg’s supposed death.

Now the Lunar Defense Corps (LDC) was hunting the councilor and his niece Chloe, who they had broken out of Atlas Station with the virus Doctor Jason Crichton coded to destroy Otto and the machines.

A knock came on the hatch. Cyrus stepped in, scratching the brown stubble on his chin.

“Councilor Cotter has called a meeting,” he said.

Tadhg went to the main habitat. The space was once used as the mechanical operations center for the miners that lived at the remote outpost.

Keanu was there with both of his palms on a station, watching a holo-image. Chloe was by his side, her hands on her hips.

“Hey,” Tadhg said. “You guys got news, or what?”

Cyrus joined them at the terminals, and Keanu stiffened as he ran a hand through his graying beard.

“There’s a bounty on my head,” he said. “Any allies I had are going to be lying low now. Our chance to take down the War Commander has passed.”

“What about Atlas Station?” Chloe said.

“What about it?” Cyrus asked.

“Maybe we can join the hybrids there.”

“For all we know, the LDC leveled the place with a plasma bomb.” Cyrus softened as he continued. “I’m sorry, Chloe, but—”

“Cyrus is correct,” Keanu said. “We can’t rely on the hybrids. Most of the only people we can trust right now are the ones in this room.”

Tadhg eyed the group of troopers that had defected from the LDC. There were four of them here, and two more on watch.

Six plus Cyrus and Tadhg, who couldn’t do much without his arms.

Eight against an army of troopers. Not to mention the hordes of machines on Earth.

He had never felt so overwhelmed.

Only one thing was going to make him feel better.

“How about finding me some arms,” he said to Chloe.

“I’ve searched this place high and low,” she replied gingerly. “I’m sorry, but…”

“What about outside? There had to be Hummer Worker Droids here at one point, right? Maybe they disposed of the droids.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“So if we could find one, could you figure a way to install those arms?”

“The problem isn’t just finding the arms. You need to be able to control them.”

“I thought you could design something for me.”

“I could, if I had the right resources.”

Tadhg grunted and drew in a deep breath.

“We did locate a few droids on a patrol,” Cyrus said.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Chloe asked.

“I was more focused on escaping the LDC.”

Tadhg turned and started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Keanu asked.

“To get my suit on,” Tadhg replied. “I’m heading out there for a look.”

“I’ll come too,” Chloe said.

“Hold on a minute,” Keanu called out in a deep voice.

Everyone faced him.

“You getting arms isn’t going to change our grave situation,” Keanu said. “And make no mistake, it is grave…”

He walked around the terminal to Chloe.

“We have very few supplies as it is, and every move we make could expose us,” Keanu continued. “Whatever we do next must be with the utmost caution.”

“Maybe arms are exactly what will change our situation,” Tadhg said.

Now everyone stared at him.

“The one thing we have going for us is they think I’m dead,” he continued. “You said you destroyed the wreckage of the MOTH I was held prisoner on after you found me, right?”

Keanu nodded.

“The LDC won’t waste resources trying to locate my body,” Tadhg said.

“I’m not sure I see your point,” Keanu said.

“They aren’t looking for me if they think I’m dead. I can get into Kepler Station, I can break Captain Harback out, and I can get Chloe to Earth to deliver that virus to Apeiron. I just need arms to do it.”

“How do you plan on sneaking into the station?” Keanu asked.

“I have a plan,” Tadhg said.

Cyrus smirked but said nothing.

Keanu sighed. “I have a few friends I still trust back at Kepler Station, if only I could get messages to them.”

“Let’s focus on what we can control right now,” Tadhg said. “I’m going to do that by finding some arms.”

“Fine,” Cyrus said. He heaved a sigh. “I’ll go too.”

Chloe smiled and rushed over to get suited up.

The three them met in the exit habitat. After double-checking everything, Tadhg brought on the comms.

“Testing,” he said.

“Online,” Cyrus said.

“Mine’s working,” Chloe replied.

“Okay, Cyrus,” Tadhg said. “Show us where these droids are.”

He opened the hatch and stepped into the connecting airlock vestibule that led outside. Once they were all inside and had closed the hatch, they went to the next hatch.

“Okay, stay close to me,” Cyrus said.

Chloe nodded.

The hatch cracked open to the darkness of the lunar surface. Tadhg still had his exoskeleton to help him walk outside, but Chloe and Cyrus didn’t have the same equipment. Both of them leapt out into the dust, using their weighted boots.

“Wow, this is amazing,” she said.

“Be careful,” Tadhg said. “It’s dangerous out here.”

Cyrus hopped ahead past the last of the habitats and toward a row of generators. Beyond those, there wasn’t much but rocks.

The horizon was a jeweled canvas of stars, providing a decent amount of light and a great distraction from how screwed they were out here.

Tadhg really, really needed a boost to his spirit.

Something to give him some hope.

He thought back to the message from Akira, and regret filled his heart. Not just regret, but shame. He had let himself succumb to self-pity because he was outnumbered by the LDC. What about Shadow Squad?

They were fighting an enemy that had already won the war in a day. Now they were just trying to survive so they could maybe come up with a Hail Mary play that would prevent the total extinction of the human race.

Tadhg was determined to get back to Earth to help.

He hurried to catch up with Cyrus, who had leapt far ahead, Chloe right behind him. By the time Tadhg made it to them, they were at the edge of an excavated ravine.

“We’re here,” Cyrus said on the comms, pointing into the abyss.

Tadhg followed his finger into the darkness.

There, at the bottom, were the droids.

Twenty, maybe more. The miners ordered to destroy them before abandoning this place hadn’t done a great job.

Which was good for Tadhg.

He toed closer to the edge, looking for a way down. It was at least two hundred feet to the bottom, with jagged fingers of rock along the walls left from the mining equipment.

Cyrus suddenly pointed to the sky.

“Is that…” he said over the channel.

Tadhg turned expecting to see Earth, but the speck of blue wasn’t big enough to be a planet. His heart hammered when he identified the sleek outline of a MOTH transport.

“Shit, it’s probably a recon flight,” Tadhg said.

“We have to get back to the habitat,” Cyrus said, waving. “Come on.”

“No,” Tadhg said. “No time, we have to hide.”

“Hide. Hide where?”

The lights inside the habitats suddenly switched off. Keanu and the others must have seen the MOTH too, and were trying to go dark. Tadhg hoped they had done it in time to avoid detection.

He turned back to the ravine and started toward a ramp chiseled into the descending wall. Cyrus and Chloe jumped over the side, landing behind him.

Tadhg motioned with his helmet for them to all get down. They crouched in the regolith, looking up.

A moment later, the MOTH flew overhead, thrusters burning blue.

Tadhg felt like a coward for hiding, but this was what Keanu would want him to do. Keanu had made Tadhg promise to protect Chloe.

Their time spent waiting in silence felt like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before the MOTH ascended back into the sprawl of space.

Tadhg jerked his helmet down, ordering Cyrus and Chloe to stay put. Then he started up the ramp and took a look. The habitats were still intact, and he didn’t see any damage. He considered trying to radio Keanu, but decided against it.

He waited a few minutes before trying the short-range comms to Chloe and Cyrus.

“Looks clear,” Tadhg said. “Start searching for the arms. I’ll stay here and watch.”

“Copy that,” Cyrus said.

Tadhg watched the dark bowl around them for any other incoming MOTHs, but nothing came by the time Cyrus and Chloe returned.

He turned to find her holding two skeletal limbs from a mining droid. They were much thicker than the normal Hummer Worker Droids on Earth.

“Oh yeah,” Tadhg said. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

— 2 —

Captain Akira Hayashi walked into the mess hall at Neptune Station with Okami by his side. He needed a bite to eat after spending the past hour at the gym.

His black sweat-soaked tank top clung to his muscular frame. During his downtime, he was using every free second to get himself into the best shape possible before they headed toward Megacity Tokyo.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Without the usual muscle augmentation serum and med-chambers, he wasn’t able to regain all that he had lost after E-Day, especially given how long it had taken him just to recover from his injuries.

He strode through the mess hall, towering over the fifty-plus civilians. They all seemed to look up from their meals at once.

Not just at him, but at Okami. The droid wolfdog had only a few patches of flesh left on him and almost no fur. He looked worse for wear, a near-monstrosity to those who didn’t know him.

“Okami!” came an adolescent voice.

Fortunately, not everyone feared the droid.

Akira turned toward Dao, the boy he had rescued from Cat Ba Island. The young kid sat with a group of ten civilians. When they arrived here three days ago, many of these people acted like nothing more than husks of themselves. They had seemed driven only by fear.

But in that short amount of time, their spirits had lifted in the safety of this refuge deep beneath the ocean. The spectacle of Akira and his droid dog quickly wore off. People returned to their meals. Some chatted happily between bites they shoveled into their mouths like it might be their last meal on earth.

The exhausted eyes were no longer sunken; many looked at Akira with a certain brightness, maybe inspired by hope. But Akira knew it would take far more than full stomachs and rested bodies to bring these people out of the abyss they were rescued from.

For some, there was no coming back.

Akira scanned the faces as Dao bent down to play with Okami. At a table in a shadowed corner of the mess hall, a man slouched, staring listlessly at a bowl of soup. Across from him, a woman clutched her eight-year-old daughter.

Akira had heard the girl didn’t talk.

At least, not anymore.

He kept searching the faces when his earpiece buzzed with a message.

“Captain Hayashi, you’re needed at command,” came a firm voice.

Akira bent down to Dao.

“I have to go, but I’ll come back later,” he said.

“Can Okami stay?” Dao asked.

“Sure.”

Akira motioned for Okami to sit. The robotic wolfdog obeyed and turned to Dao. The boy was wearing a wide smile as he scratched the droid’s head.

As Akira walked away, he held back a smile of his own.

He wanted to hold on to this hope they brought back from Cat Ba Island, but after the walking metal superstructures he saw there, he knew their chances of stopping the machines were getting grimmer by the day.

When Akira got to command, the large room with holo-screens, and monitors was mostly deserted. Standing in front of a holo-map were three men: War Commander Contos, Doctor Hayao, and Captain Thomas. Not even the hardened War Commander could hide the concern in his gaze.

They had news.

Akira saluted, noticing the map was of Megacity Tokyo.

“At ease,” Contos said. He took a few steps and then stopped. “There’s been a slight change of plans on the Tokyo mission. I’ve changed my mind about sending you there.”

Akira’s heart sank. After watching his home destroyed by the machines, he had been dreaming of returning where his brother and son were buried. He needed to go to Tokyo. His honor demanded it. “Sir, can I ask why?”

“Perhaps it’s better to show him,” Hayao said.

Contos nodded at the doctor and said, “Lead the way.”

The group set off through the connecting operation center where officers, both civilian and military, sat at terminals monitoring the ocean around the station.

From there, they trekked to another mechanical and engineering room, where clanking and grinding greeted them. Research teams were working on the former deep-sea diving Hummer Droids. Hayao, Juno, and six technicians had added plates of black armor on the already bulky droids.

A door hissed open and a familiar droid stepped out from a corridor.

“Big happy to see you, Captain, and lieutenant, big happy!” said Blinky excitedly.

If it weren’t for the voice, Akira wouldn’t have recognized the droid that now sported armored plates and a black and blue design.

Blinky turned and crossed over to Chief Researcher Juno. She stood at a table wearing a face shield. Sparks burst against it as she welded a new arm onto a droid.

A squad of four Pistons, including Sergeant Nick Toretto and Corporal Bella Oliver, monitored the work. Despite numerous assurances by Doctor Hayao and Chief Researcher Juno, the War Commander had kept security at the highest of priorities.

“Juno,” Hayao said.

She kept working, his voice drowned out by the sizzle of the blowtorch and the clanking around him.

Akira tapped the deck with his boot, sending a vibration that got her attention. She turned toward them and then shut off her machine.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said.

“We’re here to discuss our next move,” Contos said. “I’d like you to explain what you have planned.”

Juno wiped the sweat from her brow. She indicated to the row of idle Hummer Droids locked into their charging stations across the space.

“My staff and I have been preparing our machines for the recon missions to find Apeiron, as you requested,” she said.

Akira realized now why he wasn’t being sent to Tokyo. He was being replaced by the machines.

The Commander was going to send a Hummer Droid to Megacity Tokyo to search for Apeiron.

“Their programming has been upgraded with robust security protocols, signal jammers, and other appropriate countermeasures to prevent the enemy from hijacking their computational systems,” Juno continued. “Now we’re strengthening their armor, both cyber and physical, for what awaits them.”

Hayao indicated the deep-sea diving droids.

“All of these models were built to withstand the depths of the Mariana Trench and the Pacific Ring of Fire,” he said. “They did what was too risky for humans at the hydrothermal vents, discovering new life that not only survives, but thrives in otherwise inhospitable environments.”

“How many will we have?” Contos asked.

“Twenty total.” Hayao looked to Juno, who nodded the confirmation.

“Good,” Contos said. “I’ll have my security team escort them to the Pelican when they are ready for deployment. Captain Hayashi, you and Lieutenant Rossi will join the mission in a supervisory role.”

Akira was relieved to hear he would at least be going along.

“Doctor Hayao, please continue,” Contos said.

“What I’m about to tell you is classified,” said the doctor. “We don’t know the exact location of Apeiron, but we know that she will be in a Life Ark.”

“A Life Ark?” Akira asked.

“Yes, they were buried under the megacities to protect populations in preparation for Hros-1,” Hayao replied. “We believe Apeiron still exists, in some form, on the backup INN servers, assuming any of these Life Arks survived. I’ve coded an infiltration program that will hack into the local network, locate Apeiron, and activate her.”

“That is where our deep-sea diving droids come in,” Juno explained. “We have installed ground-penetrating radar in them so they can locate the Life Arks. Once they do, they can extract Apeiron using this infiltration program.”

“I’m assuming you have this same technology for us to use if they fail?” Akira asked.

“Sending a human to search for the Life Ark, when we have droids to do it, is illogical, Captain,” Hayao said.

“Especially these droids,” Juno said.

Contos walked past a row, eyeing them closely, then turned to Akira.

“The Pelican returns soon, hopefully bringing good news about Jackson, and our allies in Ha Long Bay,” he said. “It will leave again at midnight, so be ready, Captain.”

The War Commander left with Doctor Hayao.

For a moment, Akira lingered to look at the machines that had just replaced him. He recalled the same feeling now that he felt back in Megacity Paris when the Canebrakes had helped the Nova Alliance crush the Coalition.

It was an odd thing dedicating your life and body to something only to suddenly feel grossly inadequate.

Juno walked over. “Don’t look so disappointed. Those droids are buying us time.”

“Don’t be big disappoint, no big disappoint,” Blinky added. “We big help.”

Akira turned to leave, but Juno reached out to him.

“Wait, Captain,” she said.

He paused.

“You know the Pelican won’t bring back good news,” she said. “You know your friend Jackson probably threw away his life. So why are you so anxious to do the same?”

“You had a purpose down here, to discover and study new life at the trench while working on your droids. My purpose was to win wars and protect the innocent, something I’ve failed at since E-Day.”

Juno stared at him, silent.

“We’re Engines,” he continued. “We aren’t used to hiding in trenches, we’re… I’m used to being out there doing what I was trained to do.”

She let out a sigh as she walked back to her station and picked up her visor.

“I know you lost a lot before E-Day,” Juno said. “I lost everything too, but needlessly dying won’t bring anyone we love back. The only way to honor them is to stop the machines. We’ve got to be alive to do that.”

***

A newly printed flag sporting an image of an LDC Trooper standing on a pile of destroyed Canebrakes hung from the barracks chamber wall at Kepler Station.

The Machine Slayers, it read.

Ronin Hayashi was assigned to a new platoon filled with mostly seventeen-year-old cadets, still yet to be sworn in as Troopers.

Leading them was Sergeant Zlaner, a thirty-nine-year-old Piston Sergeant that had escaped Earth on a transport shuttle from a base in Egypt. Zlaner was a big man, with a thick beard and full head of hair.

“Report for comms, then your training continues,” he said in a booming but kind voice.

Ronin and the rest of the thirty cadets left the barracks to a connecting space with four comm terminals. The small booths were cordoned off with drapes for privacy. Overhead, a light glowed when it was in use for the allocated two minutes each trooper received.

There was a countdown inside to warn the sender so their message wasn’t cut off prematurely. Most of the time, the cadets used every single second.

After four days of no contact, today was finally Ronin’s opportunity to talk to his mother, Lise. He missed her terribly and was anxious to see how she was doing.

As the line inched forward, he turned to Micky and their new friend, Bradley. The kid was five-foot-ten with shaggy brown hair. Unlike most of the cadets, he was overweight. A small belly protruded out of his tight uniform.

The LDC had selected him as one of the two thousand kids despite the fact that his parents tried to buy him out of service. In these desperate times, even their extreme wealth didn’t seem to matter.

Everyone, poor or rich, had a role to play.

While Ronin had known plenty of cocky, sheltered kids that came from extremely rich households, Bradley wasn’t one of them. He was surprisingly nice, especially to Ronin.

“So you’re a twin, right?” Bradley asked.

“Yeah, my brother’s name is Elan. The LDC stationed him back at Mesopotamia.”

“Good… I mean, that’s good, right?”

“Safer than here,” Micky said.

“Yeah, safer than here assuming the machines don’t know about the colonies,” Ronin said.

“I still can’t believe you killed a Canebrake,” Bradley said. “You must have been shitting your pants.”

Micky studied Ronin as the memory surfaced, and with it, the pain of seeing Zachary die.

“So, what did your dad do on Earth?” Micky said to Bradley, changing the subject.

Ronin appreciated that. They had moved on past their issues a few days earlier, and Micky had been doing his best to prove he could be a loyal friend.

“My dad owned a construction company,” Bradley said. “They had about two thousand Hummer Worker Droids and used to work with AAS on a few large-scale projects.”

“Must have been nice,” Micky said.

“What?”

“Being rich.”

Bradley nodded ruefully. It was almost as if he was ashamed.

Or perhaps he misses those days, Ronin thought.

He couldn’t hold that against the kid.

From the penthouse to the outhouse. For everyone. Not just Bradley.

Ronin would have happily traded his life now for life in the slums again, even if it meant living in the tiny apartment and worrying about finding his next meal for the rest of his life.

At least then his father and Zachary would be alive.

The light flashed red at the booth ahead.

Ronin felt a stab of excitement.

He waited for the draftee inside to leave, but no one came out.

“Hey,” Ronin said. “Hey, your time is up.”

The drape still remained closed.

He started to peel it back. A seventeen-year-old named Orson looked out at him. The kid was only a few inches taller than Ronin, but at least sixty pounds heavier. Unlike Bradley, his weight came from pure muscle.

“Back off, shitface,” Orson said. “I’m recording a new message.”

Ronin held his ground. “Your time is up.”

“Let’s move it, Orson,” Micky said.

“You going to be a prick too?” Orson said.

“We all get two minutes,” Ronin said. “And my mom is waiting.”

Orson snickered. “She can wait.”

He turned to go back inside, but Ronin grabbed him by the arm. Orson cocked back his other fist.

“You don’t want to do that,” Bradley said. “Ronin killed a Canebrake. I’m guessing you’d go down a lot easier than one of those monsters.”

“Yeah right, I never believed that lie,” Orson said.

He tapped Ronin in the chest with a pointed finger, and then belched in his face.

If it weren’t for wanting to talk to his mom, Ronin would have punched out a few teeth. The precious seconds were ticking by for his allotted time.

He wasted no time getting into the booth after Orson was gone.

Once inside, Ronin reached for his ID tag. The terminal chirped when he slid it across the scanner. An old-school screen flashed to life, and on it was his mom.

She looked up at the booth she was in.

“Mom,” Ronin said.

“Ronin, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“You were a little later than I expected. I was worried…”

“Yeah, there was another… it doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I don’t have much time.”

Ronin leaned forward, seeing the dark circles around her eyes. She wasn’t sleeping.

“Have you seen Elan?” he asked.

“No, not yet, but I’m told he is going to be a guard inside Mesopotamia, to patrol the streets. I’m trying to get a job somewhere in the heart of the colony.”

Ronin felt a surge of relief knowing his mom and brother might be able to see each other, even if it meant he couldn’t be with them.

“Do you know what you’re doing yet?” she asked.

“No, I haven’t gotten an assignment. We’re still training.”

“You probably won’t be able to tell me anyways.”

Ronin nodded. She was right.

He checked the countdown. Only sixty seconds left.

When he looked back at her, the sadness returned in her gaze.

“Tadhg,” she said.

Ronin shook his head. He wanted to talk to her about this, but not over camera. People were monitoring these conversations. The last thing he wanted was to make his mom or him a target.

According to the LDC, Tadhg was a traitor.

“He did an awful thing,” Ronin said.

Lise nodded without hesitation. She must have sensed what he was trying to do.

Thirty seconds left.

“I haven’t asked about leave, but I don’t think I’ll be back for a while,” Ronin said. “Hopefully, we get some time—”

An alarm wailed outside the booth.

“Ronin? Ronin, what’s that noise?”

He pulled the drapes back as the cadets scattered.

Micky was waving and yelling, “Ronin, come on!”

When Ronin turned back to the screen, his mom was gone, the screen dark. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

Ronin hopped out of the booth and ran after the other cadets. They flooded into a long passage, the wail of the alarm louder inside the cramped space.

“All hands, report to your stations,” came an automated voice.

Bradley looked over his shoulder. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Ronin said.

“Where do we go?” someone ahead called out.

“To the armory!” shouted a voice that sounded like Sergeant Zlaner.

The cadets surged down a narrow corridor. Bradley lost his balance when one of the teenagers ran into him, knocking him to the ground. Two more cadets trampled over him before Ronin could reach out and help him back to his feet.

“Come on!” Micky shouted.

They followed the platoon until a heavy thud boomed down the tunnel.

Ronin stole a glance over his shoulder. The hatch behind them had slammed shut, sealing them off from where they had come from.

The LDC was locking down the facility.

“Hurry!” Ronin yelled.

He ran faster, but Bradley was limping now. A pained grimace crossed his face when they locked eyes.

Ronin offer Bradley a shoulder, and the bigger teen leaned heavily against Ronin. Micky slowed to let them catch up as the alarms screamed and the crackling automated voice continued to drone on.

Ronin’s mind swam with fear and questions.

Was this it?

The Phase 2 attack?

He wasn’t ready. They hadn’t even finished training, and he had no weapon!

The hatch in front of them began to shriek lower.

Micky ducked under it. “Hurry! Before it closes!”

Ronin was practically dragging Bradley along. They barely had room to slide under the closing hatch.

But before they could make it any further, another hatch in front of them slammed shut.

A wail of pain rose over the waning thuds.

Ronin looked down the hallway at a large cadet writhing on the floor. The hatch had come down on the kid, cleaving his leg off below the knee.

Passing Bradley off to Micky, Ronin rushed to the side of the injured kid. The boy was screaming in agony, holding his knee and wailing as blood pooled around him.

Ronin almost didn’t recognize him at first due to his twisted features.

It was Orson.

He pushed aside his anger for the teen and reached down to rip off part of his sleeve.

“We have to stop the bleeding!” Ronin said. “Help me!”

“We’re trapped,” Bradley said, looking around wildly.

“Oh God, my leg!” Orson yelled. “My leg!”

“Focus!” Ronin said. “Orson needs help!”

Judging by the widening red pool under him, Orson had already lost a lot of blood. Ronin looped his shirt sleeve above the kid’s knee, then tightened it as hard as he could.

Orson screeched. Then he grabbed Ronin with a hand around his wrist.

“Hold him down!” Ronin said. His shout finally sparked action from Bradley and Micky. They scrambled over and pinned Orson down.

He slowly let go of Ronin and slumped back to the ground, eyes rolling up in his head.

Ronin felt for a pulse, finding a weak one.

He was unconscious.

The torniquet had stopped the flow of blood, but he would need medical support soon if he had any chance of survival.

Standing, Ronin looked for a way out, but they were completely sealed inside the tunnel.

No weapons or anything to defend themselves.

“What do we do?” Micky asked.

Bradley looked to Ronin for an answer.

He didn’t have a good one.

Exhaling, he said, “We wait, and hope Kepler is ready for whatever is happening topside.”

— 3 —

“We need a boat if we’re going to have any chance of getting to the shuttle,” Tumea said.

Jackson stood on a bluff overlooking a bay. Piston Lieutenant Godfrey and two Pistons behind him held security while Godfrey and Tumea tried to come up with a plan.

“We’re assuming the machines haven’t already found the shuttle,” Godfrey said. “Chances are good they have by now.”

“Only one way to find out,” Tumea replied. “We have to cross that bay.”

Jackson followed her finger toward the water. He didn’t like the idea of getting into a boat, and he really didn’t like taking orders from the Coalition lieutenant.

But she was right.

She turned from the bluff to Jackson.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t even know where the shuttle is,” he said.

“What?” Tumea asked.

Jackson repeated himself louder this time.

All of the soldiers had hearing damage from the superstructure, but it was slowly starting to return enough they could hear Jackson if he spoke loud enough. Problem with that was attracting unwanted attention.

Just as Jackson feared, a distant rattle of Canebrakes pierced through the night, forcing the group to hunch down away from the bluff. Despite his earlier hope the machines had completely abandoned these islands for new targets, it was clear they were still out there.

Waves of vibrations rumbled under Jackson’s boots, no doubt coming from the stalking superstructure. It couldn’t be far, but he didn’t see it striding across any of the distant landmasses.

He worried Godfrey was right about the machines already finding the shuttle.

Keeping the location hidden from Jackson made sense from a military standpoint. The more people that knew, the greater the chance the machines would find out if they captured anyone. Normally, Jackson was confident in his abilities to keep intel secret during interrogations and even torture, but he could only imagine some of the horrors the machines could and would inflict on prisoners.

Jackson used his augmented hearing to listen for the Canebrakes, but didn’t hear anything now. He got up and motioned for the others to do the same.

“I guess we better find a boat,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“You don’t know your way around these islands,” Godfrey said.

“I’ll go with him,” Tumea suggested. “You stay here and stay hidden until we return.”

Godfrey agreed after a few seconds of deliberation.

“Be careful,” he said.

“I’m with a mighty Engine; what’s there to fear?” Tumea said sarcastically.

Lots out here, Jackson wanted to say.

“Follow me,” she said. “I know of a nearby fishing village.”

Godfrey rested his back against a rocky overhang that provided some cover. He nodded as if to tell Jackson it was okay to leave him here.

It was hard for Jackson to abandon the man, especially by leaving him with their former mortal enemy. But the only way to survive was by working together. Even if it meant working with people you despised. Because at least they were people and not murderous machines.

Tumea led the way down the cliff toward the shoreline on the eastern edge of the island. Jackson kept close, utilizing his augmented hearing to listen for the enemy.

For the next hour, they navigated a circuitous route through the wet jungles. Despite the challenges of the terrain, they made good time. There was no denying how much faster they could move without Godfrey limping behind them. It also helped they had yet to run into any hostile forces.

But as they made their way north, the tremors from the superstructure got stronger.

Jackson thought back to what he had witnessed on Cat Ba, when the machine had used microwave beams on soldiers and civilians, turning them to pulpy messes. He recalled the gravity beams pulling people up and through the gill-like vents in the side of the main tower.

Shaking away the thoughts, he pulled out his energy axe to hack through a dense area of vines. The blade cut through the vegetation with ease. Just as he went to put the weapon over his shoulder, he felt a hand on his arm.

Tumea hit the dirt and Jackson dropped next to her, both looking up. A near silent teardrop-shaped Hunter Ship broke through the cloud cover, descending over the eastern edge of the island and then the bay.

They remained in the mud for several minutes, the hum of engines humming over the rustling of leaves and creak of branches.

Jackson slowly got up and motioned for Tumea to follow. They worked through the tangle of vines until they got to a clearing overlooking the beach on the northeastern shoreline.

The Hunter Ship hovered over the highest peaks on an adjacent island. It was hard to make out, but Jackson could see objects leaping from the open vents in the side of the ship. He used his rifle to zoom in on what he expected were Canebrakes.

But these weren’t the war droids.

The ship dropped dozens of black Hummer Worker Droids.

He couldn’t see where they were landing, but he assumed they had been dropped to repair something. Maybe a Praying Mantis fighter or another Hunter Ship.

Or perhaps they were a demolition crew.

Jackson turned to Tumea, who was watching through a pair of binoculars she had up against her night vision optics.

“Is that where the shuttle is?” he whispered.

Tumea didn’t answer.

Of course, because she can’t hear me, Jackson thought.

He pulled back his armored sleeve to the data-pad. After typing out a message, he tapped on her shoulder. When she turned, she held the pad in front of her. He hoped she could at least read. Hell, a lot of Coalition warriors couldn’t.

“Godfrey was right,” Tumea said, glancing at the data-pad. “We’re too late. The shuttle is on the other side of that island.”

She mumbled something, perhaps a prayer for the innocent civilians sheltering near the shuttle. Then she stood and motioned for him to follow. Jackson again used his energy blade to cut a path through the dense jungle.

They were leaving an obvious, trackable trail, but there was no way around it. They had to move.

Over the next hill, a gunshot cracked.

Jackson halted, trying to locate where it had come from.

Was it from Godfrey and the others?

He waited for another shot, but the harsh winds once again reclaimed the night.

As they advanced, Jackson continued to listen, wondering why there was only one shot.

“Not much farther,” Tumea said. “Just over that ridgeline.”

Jackson moved ahead to take point. He switched his RS-3 rifle to fully automatic.

Ready for battle, he lumbered up the mound of rock and dirt toward a tangled mass of vegetation on the north point of the island. By the time he made it through the steep, overgrown terrain, sweat dripped down his brow.

Tumea joined him at an overlook of sharp rocks. The moon peeked through the clouds, shining over what was once a colorful fishing village. Docks and piers connected hundreds of houseboats in the bay. Most had been turned black from fire. The inferno left many of the dwellings and boats nothing but charred skeletons. Some had collapsed and sunk.

There was no sign of smoke, which told him this had happened maybe days or weeks ago.

He searched the water for a boat they could salvage. Everything looked damaged. Only a few sections of the yellow, red, green, and blue painted structures that survived in the once colorful and peaceful village.

One thing was certain. The machines had already come through here to finish off the injured or take prisoners.

That meant they hopefully wouldn’t be returning.

Tumea pointed at the water at the far end of the structures.

At first, Jackson didn’t see what she was motioning to until he spotted the sorriest-looking rowboat in his life. The thing looked like it couldn’t even haul a net of minnows, let alone five armored soldiers.

He twisted toward her to ask if she was serious, but she was already moving.

“Wait,” Jackson said quietly.

Cursing, he followed her down the slope until the jungle opened to the beach. Waves rolled up the sand, carrying chunks of burned wood, plastic jugs, tires, and decayed bodies.

Tumea hugged the border of the shore, keeping within the jungle for cover. While it was unlikely, a Canebrake or two could still be lurking out here.

Weapons shouldered, they set off down a board walkway across the sand to the rickety docks. The first one swayed back and forth, loose, and burned.

Jackson went first, testing a few of the boards with a boot before crossing. He was over three hundred fifty pounds with his armor and gear. This dock looked like it could barely support a pigeon.

The creaking dock groaned over the lapping waves on the beach.

“Hey, big guy,” Tumea said quietly.

Jackson slowly turned as she strode past. “Better let me get the boat before you take out this entire village.”

He grinned. “Yeah, okay.”

The Coalition Commando moved fast toward the end where they had seen the rowboat.

Jackson started back toward the beach, watching for hostiles.

A breeze rustled the trees, almost masking a clicking noise, like a weapon being charged.

He hunched behind the beached carcass of a charcoaled boat. The noise came again from behind him, he was sure of it.

Jackson looked back toward the floating village and searched for Tumea’s antlered helmet, but she had disappeared among the charred structures.

Rising to his full height, he tried for a better view when the clicking sounded, followed by the creak of floorboards.

This time, he saw what was making the noises halfway across the village.

There, standing in the open doorway of a burned houseboat, was a man holding a bolt-action rifle aimed right at the back of Tumea’s helmet.

“Son of a bitch,” Jackson grumbled.

Now he knew the source of the gunshot earlier.

The man moved out of the doorway, revealing a tattered brown t-shirt and frayed shorts that matched. Bandages covered his legs and arms. His head was wrapped with another cloth that covered an eye.

“Up, up!” the man shouted.

Tumea reluctantly put her hands in the air.

The man was talking again, frantic, his voice laced with panic, anger, and fear. Jackson approached with his rifle. He targeted the man’s remaining eye, ready to put a plasma bolt right through it if necessary.

Tumea looked at Jackson, and he subtly signaled for her to jump into the water. The man seemed to notice that and pushed the barrel of his rifle against the back of her head.

Jackson decided the best way out of this was to lower his rifle and negotiate.

After putting his rifle away, Jackson put his own hands up and took a step forward.

The man continued to speak louder in broken English.

“Stop,” Tumea said. “You’re going to attract the machines.”

Jackson listened to them banter back and forth until he got to their position. When he did, he noticed the body of a woman on the dock connected to the man’s dwelling.

It was mostly covered by a blanket. The exposed, blackened limbs were wrapped in bandages soiled with blood and pus. Fresh blood soaked through the blanket covering the head.

Jackson realized then, this man had shot the person, perhaps to put them out of their misery.

No wonder he’s so damn upset.

“Relax, we’re friends,” Jackson said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Tumea must have heard that because she said, “None of that’s true if he doesn’t take this gun away from my head.”

“They are all dead,” the man choked. “My parents, children. Wife.” He glanced at the corpse. “The metal soldiers killed them all.”

The man looked over his shoulder at the dead woman, who must have been his wife. Tumea must have noticed and seized the opportunity to maneuver away and snatch the rifle from his hands.

In a second, she had it turned on him and angled at his head.

He fell to his knees, whimpering.

“Please,” he said. “I beg you.”

But he wasn’t begging for them to save him.

“Kill me,” he said. “End my misery.”

The man scrambled over to the corpse, leaning over it and weeping with his one eye.

Jackson stepped over, seeing a concrete platform below the dock he had missed earlier. On it, was a pile of ashes and charred bones.

“He burned all of them,” Jackson whispered.

A flood of compassion rushed through the Engine.

Jackson bent down next to the man and slowly reached out.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry for your loss, but do not give up your life. We’re going to avenge them.”

The man directed his remaining eye at Jackson, blinking out the tears.

“I know where they are,” he said.

Tumea turned away from the view of the water.

“Who?” Jackson asked.

“The big machine,” the man stammered. He stood and pointed toward the island to the east, where they had seen the Hunter Ship drop off all the Hummer Worker Droids.

“They are there,” he said, “to repair the monster.”

Jackson and Tumea exchanged a glance.

“I think he means they’re fixing the superstructure that the Pelican damaged before escaping,” Jackson said.

“Maybe there is a chance then,” she said. “If they’re just repairing the tower, maybe the machines haven’t actually found the shuttle.”

The man turned and gestured toward the island. “You fight them?”

Jackson nodded.

“Then I take you,” replied the fisherman. “Come. I have boat.”

***

Six hours remained before the Pelican departed for the reconnaissance mission to hunt for the Life Arks and Apeiron. Akira still didn’t like the idea of sending droids out there to do his job, but there was nothing he could do to change it. He had already set aside his disappointment to get his mind in the right place.

A single candle flickered in the small quarters he had been assigned at Neptune Station. The industrial space was once a large storage closet that had been retrofitted with a bunk.

Okami sat on the bed, watching Akira as he wrote in his new Warrior Codex.

Akira had spent his downtime over the past few days rewriting the passages of his ancestors. Recalling these events brought him a sense of pride, a reminder of the trials and tribulations the samurai had faced over their lives.

He was almost to the point of adding new pages that marked a change in the war against the machines.

The warm flame brought with it a sense of calm as Akira put pen to paper. Before E-Day, he would often sit by candlelight at night and meditate. Yui had loved candles too, placing them throughout their apartment when they first got married.

Akira flipped back to the entry he had re-written the day before.

It wasn’t all war and battles in the codex. He had captured the moment she had lit a blue candle that represented something very special—a gift that Akira had always wanted.

Akira would never forget looking at the candle and what it represented almost two decades ago.

Takeshi, a son, and heir to the Hayashi family before Ronin and Elan were born.

He read through the passage describing that night, when Yui had said, “We’re having a boy.”

It wasn’t long after that she had made Akira promise that Takeshi wouldn’t grow up as a warrior. She didn’t want that life for her son.

Akira hadn’t either.

That was part of the reason he had asked his brother Kai and sister-in-law Lise to raise Takeshi.

A knock came at his hatch, and he stood to see Frost looking through the ajar hatch.

“Good to see you writing again, Captain,” she said.

“Good to see you on your feet,” Akira said.

He stood as she limped inside with a cane. Okami jumped off the bed, wagging his alloy tail, as he tried to playfully bite the metal cane.

“How’s that leg?” Akira asked.

“Leg’s better, but I’ve got to use this damn thing,” she said, lifting a cane. “I asked Juno if she could turn it into a weapon. I mean shit, she seems to be able to modify everything else.”

Akira grinned. “She is very creative.”

She glanced to the codex. “You got any good memories for me? I could use some.”

“Go ahead. Take a look.”

Frost took the book and gingerly flipped through the pages.

“Ah, here’s a good one,” she said with a smile.

Akira stood by her side.

“The rocky terrain hid many possible ambush positions from Coalition commandos, making the mission to find the elevated HQ a dangerous one for Shadow Squad,” Frost read. “Perez was on point with his shield when the first sniper bullet ricocheted off the titanium. A hail of enemy fire pinned us down.”

Frost looked up at Akira.

“I’ll never forget what happened next,” she said. Looking down, she continued to read. “Ghost launched into the sky with his jetpack, singing the Nova Alliance Hymn like a crazed yodeler, his voice echoing in all directions and drawing enemy fire.”

“It was a risky move, but it—” Akira started to say.

“What was?” came another voice.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Frost said. “We’re just reminiscing about one of your infamous and pretty questionable battle strategies.”

Okami bolted over to Ghost. He was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top soaked with sweat. He bent down and patted the wolfdog’s alloy hide with his skeletal fingers while Frost re-read the passage.

This was one of the first times Akira had seen his friend not covering up his prosthetics. Apeiron had done a hell of a job bringing him back to life, but she’d had to replace over sixty percent of his flesh-and-bones with metal.

His arms attached to a ring of metal around his neck. Most of his face was flesh, regrown in a lab. His brown INVS eyes were artificial, and the brown wavy hair was transplanted to match what he once had.

At a quick glance, at least on the surface, he looked mostly like Ghost had before he was blown up by a Coalition bomb in the Cairo market. But inside, he was almost all artificial.

“I honestly didn’t know if we would make it off that mountain,” Ghost said.

Frost let out a sigh. “I sure miss Perez and Tadhg. I hope the big guy is okay wherever he is.”

“I believe we’ll see him again someday,” Akira said. “What we do in the coming days will honor Perez too.”

“And that’s why I should be coming with, Captain,” Frost said.

Akira could see the fight in her eyes, but orders were orders. She was to stay behind and heal and protect the station.

“The survivors here need you,” Akira said.

“I’d make a bigger difference out there.” She gestured up as if indicating the water’s surface. “Can you talk to the War Commander?”

Akira didn’t answer.

“Okay,” she said. “I see how it is.”

“I’m sorry, Frost.”

“Not like we’re going to be doing any fighting,” Ghost said. “We’re just going to babysit the lab droids on their bus ride to the ruins of the megacities.”

“Yeah, but at least you’re not staying behind. We’re supposed to stick together.” Frost handed him the book back. “Thanks for the memories anyway.”

He nodded as she limped out of the room.

Akira tucked the book away and Ghost left to clean up. As Akira prepared his gear, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps clanking outside.

He opened his hatch again. A researcher was running past.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Akira asked.

“Pelican is back with news,” replied the young man.

Akira stepped back in his quarters and hurried to gather his things. Okami paced, tail wagging with excitement.

“We don’t know if it’s good yet, boy,” Akira said.

He left the quarters with Okami and headed for the hangar where the Pelican had docked.

A group had already gathered, including civilians they had rescued from Cat Ba Island. Dao was there and came running over to Akira and Okami.

The boy looked at the gear he carried.

“You’re leaving again?” Dao asked.

“Yes, but just for a short while. We should be back in a week. Maybe less.”

Dao glanced at the deck.

“It will be okay,” Akira said. “You’re safe here.”

Heavy footfalls rapped down the corridor. War Commander Contos entered through a hatch with two Pistons.

“Can’t Okami stay with me?” Dao asked.

“I’m sorry, but I need him out there,” Akira said.

The wolfdog wagged his tail as Dao patted him.

“Say goodbye, Okami,” Akira said.

Dao hugged the droid and then reluctantly went back to the rest of the crowd. Akira followed Contos and the other soldiers into a vestibule connected to the submarine.

From there, he went straight to the CIC where Captain Thomas was speaking quietly with War Commander Contos.

Using his augmented ears, Akira picked up a few of the words.

Survivors. Attack. New machines.

The War Commander finally motioned for Ghost and Akira to join him in the small briefing room furnished with a table and six chairs.

“The Pelican spent the past twenty-four hours at radio depth to listen for transmissions in the areas we’ve considered deploying the recon droids,” Contos explained. “Due to reports of heavy enemy forces at the craters in Megacity Shanghai, and Megacity Seoul, I’ve decided to focus on Japan, where intel points at a smaller concentration of hostiles.”

A digital map expanded on a holo-screen over the table, showing Megacity Osaka and Megacity Tokyo.

“Wait, what about Jackson?” Akira asked.

Contos looked to Captain Thomas.

“We did not receive any radio contact on the encrypted line from Ha Long Bay,” Thomas said.

Akira’s heart stung. This only confirmed his dark suspicions. Jackson. Tumea. Godfrey, and the other soldiers and civilians that had remained behind were likely dead.

“However, we did pick up another long-range automated message from the same people that the LDC King Cobras spotted north of Megacity New York,” Thomas said.

Contos directed his gaze at Akira.

“They were asking about Captain Hayashi, and Shadow Squad,” the captain added. “They want to know when you will rise and fight.”

Akira swallowed hard.

He had made a promise on the comms over a week ago, and once again, he was being held back from the fighting.

“We’re close to being able to implement our plan,” Contos said. “We have machines that can locate Apeiron, and bring her back online so we can use her to find a way to destroy Otto.”

The War Commander stood a bit taller.

“Make no mistake, Jackson threw away his life,” Contos said. “I gave him orders to contact the LDC, and he decided to engage in a futile fight instead. Now with Frost injured too, we’re lacking even more of our best weapons.”

Contos shook his head in dismay.

“You see why I can’t afford to send you out there, Captain Hayashi, especially when we have dispensable droids,” he continued. “We must preserve our strength for the moment when we can defeat the machines with sound strategy. We might only get one chance.”

“Yes, I understand,” Akira said.

“With all that said, if the modified worker droids find the Life Ark at Megacity Osaka or Megacity Tokyo, and it’s safe to deploy, then your original orders stand,” Contos said. “Extract Apeiron and bring her back to the Pelican. I’ve already informed Juno and Hayao to provide you with the tech you might need.”

“Understood.”

“And me, sir?” Ghost asked.

“I need more time to decide on how to proceed with contacting the LDC,” Contos replied. “For now, I need you on standby.”

“Yes, sir.”

Contos nodded. “Get ready to deploy. Dismissed.”

Akira and Ghost headed to their assigned bunks with Okami.

“He says the world needs Akira the Brave,” Ghost said. He finished packing away his gear and stood. “War Commander Contos knows that, and I personally believe he’s being more cautious because without you, we will lose all hope.”

“Shadow Squad is the hope,” Akira said. “Not one man or woman. It’s all of us, together.”

“True, but you’re our leader. The team needs you.”

Ghost put a hand on Akira’s shoulder plate. “I’ll never forget the day I found you on that blood-drenched hill outside of Tokyo, a halo of dead Coalition warriors around you,” he said. “You were just a Piston then, but I could tell you were destined to help win the war.”

“That was a long time ago,” Akira said. “Things are different now.”

He thought of that day, when he had found himself the sole survivor of his team, facing certain death until Kichiro trotted into view.

The cyborg horse had helped save him before Ghost descended from the skies, singing the hymn of the Nova Alliance.

A metallic clank sounded, snapping Akira from the memory.

“They must be loading the droids,” he said. “Come on.”

The Engines left with Okami and went back to the connecting vestibule. Outside, the civilians had parted to make a path for the modified deep-sea diving Hummer droids.

Frost was there, leaning against a bulkhead in the shadows.

It pained Akira to leave her, further splitting up Shadow Squad, but she would only slow them down if they did end up getting deployed. And if the machines did find this place, he felt better knowing she was here to protect Dao and the others.

Walking behind the marching black droids, were Blinky and Juno. The crowd merged again as the last of the machines made it onto the sub.

Akira walked out to say goodbye to Frost, but she was already gone.

— 4 —

“We’re lucky they didn’t find us,” Keanu said. “Extremely lucky.”

“I know,” Chloe replied.

She tried to work on the salvaged droid arms in the dusty workshop of the abandoned mining station, but her pacing uncle was making it difficult. She already had enough on her mind. From the virus Doctor Jason Crichton had given her, to a dozen other things.

After a few minutes of listening to the rap of boots, she looked up from her work.

“Can you stop?” Chloe asked. “The pacing, I mean.”

“Sorry.” Keanu stopped walking and folded his arms over his chest. It was just like old times, when she had worked on her bird, Radar, in the cramped basement in Megacity Paris.

Those days seemed so long ago.

Another lifetime, almost.

And Radar was gone too, confiscated by the LDC.

Cyrus stepped into the workshop, gripping a rifle.

Since they were reunited, she and Cyrus had spent almost no time together alone. Seeing him again certainly wasn’t the joyful reunion she had pictured, but at least they were together.

Chloe refocused on the bulky metal arms. They were basic compared to the custom droid animals she worked on in her parents’ shop before the Coalition invaded. But that didn’t mean they would be easy to attach to a living body like Tadhg’s.

For one, the axial drive motors that controlled the limbs were both broken. These worker droids were different than the ones on Earth. Their parts were much heavier to withstand the demanding stress of heavy duty mining activity.

That made her wonder if they would serve Tadhg well in combat. Sure, the arms had reinforced alloy plates, which would help serve as armor, but that also made them harder to move. She could add some frictionless bearings in the joints to improve their agility, if she had the right parts.

Chloe used her drill to unscrew one of the plates on the right arm to expose a mass of tangled and torn wires inside.

“Damn,” she whispered.

“What? What now?”

She turned toward Tadhg, who sat in a dusty chair. He had been so quiet, she almost forgot he was here. Truthfully, he’d been asking her questions a mile a minute as she worked. She had told him there was no way she could fix these arms if he didn’t leave her alone.

Fortunately, his desire to have working arms again outweighed his relentless curiosity.

“Just lots of problems,” Chloe said. “The drive motors are busted, the wires are toast, and I still don’t know how I’m going to create a working nerve-arm interface so you can control the limbs.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Tadhg asked.

Cyrus broke his silence. “You can’t fix them?”

“Of course she can,” Keanu said. “She just needs time.”

“What I need is some space,” Chloe said in a voice louder than she had wanted.

Tadhg got out of his chair, stumbling slightly. “Hey, I was doing my best to shut up.”

“Yeah, I know, but having all three of you watching and pacing and… well, it just doesn’t help. I can feel the tension, and tension doesn’t make for a good work environment.”

“Let’s go, fellas,” Keanu said, motioning for the hatch. “Let’s give her the room.”

Tadhg ducked through the hatch with Keanu, but Cyrus lingered.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” he asked. “More parts, some water, food, whatever… I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Thanks.” She forced a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

The hatch shut, and she let out a deep breath as she twisted back to the workstation.

The weight of this work bore down on her more than any project in the past. Giving Tadhg arms would determine whether or not they had a chance at survival when they left this place. Without arms, how could the Engine hope to fight?

“Okay, you got this, Chloe,” she said quietly.

Over the next few hours, she replaced as much wiring as possible. The only time she got up was to get some extra spools from the workshop supplies. Once she had fed it through the broken arms, she turned her attention on the busted motors. One was too far gone to fix, but with enough patience, she decided she could repair the other motor.

By early evening, she thought the left arm might be functional again. It was definitely ready for a test. She took it out of the clamp, feeling the weight of the armored alloy, even with the moon’s reduced gravity. She placed the bulky armor on the table with a resounding clank. Next, she attached a shoulder piece that would later need to be mounted to Tadhg’s armor.

The shoulder piece connected to the arm without too much effort.

When she finished, she opened the hatch to the main habitat. Keanu was pacing again in front of the mining operation stations while two rebel troopers stood guard at a viewport. Tadhg and Cyrus were also waiting near the windows.

“Am I allowed to ask how things are going now?” Tadhg asked.

“Come,” she said to Tadhg. “You too, Cyrus.”

Chloe returned to the workspace.

“Tadhg you have a seat,” she said. “Cyrus, hold up the mount to his shoulder plate.”

Cyrus heaved the piece up to connect to Tadhg’s armor.

Leaning down, Chloe used a screwdriver to touch a tiny lever. The fingers clicked, moving.

“Nice,” Tadhg said.

“I’ll need you to take your armor off to finish the connections,” Chloe said. “Once I weld the mounts to your suit, I’ll thread a wire through and into your helmet. I think I can connect those wires to a skull cap. That should allow you to control it, but that’s where we have our next problem.”

“We don’t have a skull cap, do we?” Tadhg asked.

“No.”

Tadhg cursed. “Where the hell do we find one of those?”

“The only place I know for sure is the same place where I was imprisoned.”

Cyrus and Keanu exchanged a worried glance.

“Atlas Station medical has all the tools, parts, and technology necessary to turn Tadhg into a walking tank,” Chloe said. “We simply can’t get those parts from the bottom of the ravine.”

“Why didn’t you just say so a few days ago?” Tadhg asked as Chloe began to remove the arm again from his armor.

“Because I hoped we’d have something here, and I didn’t think Atlas Station was an option. But if our allies took it back—”

“They didn’t.” The rueful voice came from her uncle. He was standing at the open hatch to the workshop, watching.

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked.

“We intercepted a transmission an hour ago. I didn’t want to disturb you while you were working.”

Chloe felt her guts tighten as she placed the cold metal arm back on the workstation.

“What transmission?” she asked. “I want to hear it.”

Keanu jerked his head back to the command room. Chloe and the other two followed him out to join one of the troopers in front of a station. The soldier clicked the holo-screen at a gesture from Keanu, playing a transmission.

“Ghost Niner, Angel Actual, weapon’s free. Permission to dust Atlas Station.”

The voice of War Commander Thacker was easily recognizable, but there was a slight pause before the response.

“Copy that, Angel. Red Viper Four proceeding with dust run.”

Chloe felt acid churning in her stomach as she looked at the men in turn. “Does dusting mean what I think it does?”

Tadhg was the only one to answer. “It means everyone at Atlas Station is dead.”

“This is beyond evil,” Keanu said, “even for Thacker.”

“The guy killed an entire colony of people,” Tadhg said. “What makes you surprised he would do the same thing to people like—”

“Like me,” Chloe whispered.

She closed her eyes, picturing the final moments when Giana and the other hybrids, that had survived hell, were massacred.

“Was it quick?” Chloe asked.

“I would assume so,” Tadhg said. “As soon as they blew something like the airlocks, everyone would be killed in seconds.”

She let out a long sigh.

“I don’t mean this to sound insensitive, but this could be an opportunity for us,” Tadhg said. “Assuming the LDC abandons Atlas Station now, we could go in and grab the stuff you need.”

“I’ll go,” Cyrus said. “Make me a list of things you need and what they look like.”

Chloe hesitated. By sending Cyrus there, she could be killing him if the LDC still had boots on the ground. But without arms, Tadhg was really not going to be much help and, as an Engine, he could prove to be one of their most valuable assets.

Even with arms, assuming she could get them to work, they still had to break Captain Jake Harback out of Kepler Station, commandeer a MOTH, fly to Earth, and find Apeiron to defeat the machines with the virus from Doctor Jason Crichton.

Everything they had to accomplish might have seemed impossible to the old Chloe.

But the new Chloe, the free Chloe, was up for the task.

***

“Hang on just a little longer,” Ronin said.

He put a hand to Orson’s pale neck. The teen lay in a fetal position, his breathing shallow. Ronin felt a pulse, but it was weak. Orson had lost so much blood from his severed leg.

Ronin was lucky to have gotten the torniquet on fast, but that didn’t matter if the machines were inside Kepler Station. They were all going to die, trapped inside this tunnel.

Glancing over his shoulder, Ronin looked at Bradley and Micky. The two other cadets sat with their backs to the bulkhead. An overhead light captured their frightened features.

Ronin put his ear to the metal of the nearby hatch.

“You hear anything out there?” Micky asked.

“Still nothing.”

If the machines were inside the base, they weren’t making noise. So far, Ronin hadn’t heard any gunfire, explosions, or screams.

Then again, they were locked inside this tunnel with airtight blast doors. Maybe the fact that they hadn’t heard any noise was by design.

Ronin was about to stand, when Orson moaned.

“I…” Orson began, his eyes still closed.

Ronin put his hand back on Orson’s chest.

“We’re getting out of here soon,” Ronin said. “You’re going to be okay.”

Orson lifted his eyelids, focusing dull eyes on Ronin.

“I just want to go home… I just want to see my mom.”

“You’re going to see her, don’t worry,” Ronin replied.

Orson’s lips began to move again, but no words escaped his dry lips.

“Save your strength,” Ronin said.

A loud series of clanks suddenly resonated through the passage.

Micky and Bradley both shot up.

“What’s that?” Bradley asked.

There was fear in his gaze, and he was shaking again.

Loud thuds followed the clanking.

Each thud grew louder. Closer.

Ronin tensed as he waited.

They had nothing to fight with, and no way to escape.

If the machines were coming…

He checked Orson. The cadet’s eyes were closed again, and for a second, Ronin worried they had lost him. But when he felt for a pulse again, he found a weak one.

“I’m sorry,” Orson stammered. “Sorry for earlier.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Ronin said.

A harsh thud boomed down the passage, rattling the ground.

Ronin rose back to his feet.

“Shit, oh shit,” Bradley said while shaking. “That’s them, isn’t it? Oh God, they are going to tear us apart.”

“Quiet,” Ronin said.

Micky started toward the opposite blast door on the other side of the passage. It seemed the noises were coming from that direction. He backed away.

As the thuds grew louder, the lights began to flicker.

A long metallic rattle shot into the tunnel.

There was no mistaking that sound.

Canebrakes.

Ronin’s shock was quickly replaced by fear. He backed into the corner, palms sweaty, his stomach twisting.

No, this can’t be it…

He wasn’t ready.

His mind went to Elan and their mother, alone in Mesopotamia. He had promised he would help protect them. Promised he would get back to them.

The banging continued, sounding as though something was slamming against the blast doors. The machines were breaking through.

Micky and Bradley cowered in the corner, but instead of joining them, Ronin knelt back by Orson. He didn’t want the injured cadet to die alone. It didn’t matter the kid was a jerk.

The flickering lights finally cut off, and the group was bathed in unforgiving darkness.

“What’s that noise…” Orson mumbled.

Ronin gripped his hand.

“Someone’s here to rescue us,” he lied, trying to will his heart to stop pounding so wildly. “You can rest now.”

The thumps got louder, the ground shaking with each impact.

A long hiss followed.

Then came distinct, metal footsteps.

Ronin never left Orson’s side, even as a red simmering line traced around the outside of the adjacent blast door, melting through the metal. The meager light cut through the black.

“No!” Bradley shouted.

Ronin watched the line cut away the door. Energy blades pierced through the edges, hacking away at what remained of the metal until the whole door began to groan, its weight too much for the final shreds of alloy to hold.

The door fell, landing with a booming thud. Flashlight beams flickered into the dark space.

Bradley and Micky threw up their hands, both screaming.

Ronin bent over Orson, preparing for the blades that would sear through his flesh. He hoped his death would at least be quick.

A machine advanced through the makeshift doorway into the passage. It lumbered toward them, stretching nearly eight feet tall. But instead of the squid-like arms Canebrakes had, two elongated forking hands reached forward, both glowing red from energy blades.

Behind the machine surged humanoid shapes of metal, their lights blinding Ronin.

“We have survivors,” came a voice garbled by static.

Ronin held a hand up to shield his eyes as a group of LDC Troopers surged past the Juggernaut mech suit piloted by a human. This mech design was different than any Ronin had ever seen. It was bulwarked with huge alloy plates, and a dome-shaped helmet that had a thin visor.

Ronin slowly snapped out of his shock.

“We need a medic,” he called out. “Please, hurry!”

Six troopers flooded around the cadets.

“Out of the way,” one said.

Micky and Bradley were already retreating, but Ronin remained by Orson’s side.

A familiar voice called out.

“Hayashi!” Sergeant Zlaner ran over to Ronin and knelt by Orson.

“Ah, shit!” Zlaner yelled over his radio. “Get me a medic in Passage Fourteen!”

Ronin and Zlaner stayed with Orson until a pair of medics arrived a few minutes later. They carefully dragged the injured cadet away from the blast door, leaving a streak of blood.

The Juggernaut strode to the next hatch and raised the energy blades. Sparks showered onto the floor as the soldier began to cut through the door that had severed Orson’s leg.

Ronin backed away with Zlaner as the medics put Orson down.

Fresh blood squirted from the torniquet.

“Oh no,” Ronin whispered. He went to help, but Zlaner held him back.

“You did all you could, Hayashi,” he said. “Let them work.”

Ronin watched, his heart pounding.

“This should never have happened,” Zlaner said.

“What did happen?” Ronin asked.

Zlaner shook his head. “It was a drill, but that drill went to shit. Some of our safety protocols failed, sealing off these hatches. They weren’t supposed to shut like this.”

“We’re losing him,” said a medic.

He pulled out a defibrillator, preparing to shock his heart while the other medic pulled back Orson’s shirt.

The sound of grinding and hissing metal silenced the first and second shock to his chest.

The Juggernaut was almost through the hatch.

After a few seconds pause, the armored behemoth kicked the door, sending it slamming down into the connecting passage. Lights beamed through the smoky darkness.

A group of five cadets stood in the glow, slowly advancing.

“Get back to the barracks!” Zlaner yelled.

The kids all took off running past the lower part of Orson’s leg. The dead limb had been on their side of the passage for the past few hours, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Ronin backed away but halted when he saw the two medics place Orson on a hover-stretcher that a third trooper had brought.

To Ronin’s relief, Orson was conscious, his heart beating once more.

“Out of the way,” said a medic.

Ronin ran along with them as they carted Orson down the passage. The once unruly cadet reached out to him, eyes still glassy.

“Thank you,” he stammered.

“You’re going to be okay,” Ronin said. “You’re going home now.”

— 5 —

Seven years ago…

At dawn, Shadow Squad crested a bluff overlooking a valley with a river snaking through it. Piercing rays of light spread across the landscape, illuminating cherry blossom trees in full bloom.

Akira dismounted Kichiro. Soft tremors shook beneath his feet, and the angry chant of the enemy roaring through the valley. Five hundred Coalition soldiers, including an entire platoon of Breakers were trapped around the river.

They had two options: surrender, or fight and die.

The war party below was well known to the Nova Alliance, but especially to Akira. Many of those soldiers were responsible for the bombing that killed his wife Yui. Some were also defectors from the Nova Alliance. Former Pistons that had abandoned the salvation of AI to live like barbarians. There were rumors several of these Pistons had also helped the Coalition the night Yui was killed.

While he didn’t have solid intel to support these rumors, the thought of this betrayal brought anger burning through Akira as he swept the terrain with his rifle scope.

The rest of Shadow Squad was scouting out the western edge of the valley where a rocky mountain blocked any chance of escape for the Coalition.

The only way out of the valley was the direction where the Stone Mountain Battalion of Nova Alliance Strike Force had gathered. The war party had gotten cocky over the years. They had evidently never thought the Nova Alliance Strike Force would commit troops so far out of the Megacities in an attack like this.

Akira had wondered if these orders would ever come. He was honestly surprised when they had been delivered from War Commander Contos himself the night before.

“May this help end a painful chapter in your past,” Contos had said. “However, remember the Warrior Ethos.”

The Warrior Ethos had always guided Akira away from revenge. Today, he would follow the Ethos as he always did, but he couldn’t deny it might help bring relief from the painful memories.

The Coalition war party’s campaign of terror would end when command signaled the final attack. In the meantime, Akira lifted his kabuto over his face, drawing in a deep breath that carried the fragrance of the forest, but also the scent of burning campfires in the valley.

Reaching into his armored satchel, he pulled out a handwritten letter from his brother, Kai, and sister-in-law, Lise.

Dear Akira,

The dust storms are getting worse here, but other than that, I can’t complain. I’m alive, and sometimes that is all you can ask for.

I’ve just returned from a deployment in the desert. Coalition nomads were trying to break into our waterlines. I lost a dear friend, Manuel Rodriguez. Just two days before we were supposed to head home, a sniper got him.

The losses never get easier, do they?

Each time, I know Lise is glad it’s not me, but sometimes I feel guilty when I’m the one that gets to return home and other men, like Manuel, do not.

I imagine you know that feeling better than anyone.

Perhaps someday we will both enjoy peace, but until that day, we can only do our best to survive.

On a more positive note, Zachary has become quite the student and an even better athlete. He speaks of wanting to be a Droid Raider when he gets older.

I see much of you in him.

Ronin and Elan are doing well, but Elan’s hearing has gotten worse. I’m saving for surgery to help restore it.

The boys ask about you often, and I tell them you are off saving the world.

Hopefully, we can see you again soon. Stay safe, brother.

-Kai.

Akira gently rolled the letter up and placed it back in the satchel.

The stomping of boots and tap of spears against rocks thundered in the distance. War howls of men and women thirsty for blood rose in a ferocious chorus, along with the sporadic, antagonistic gunshots.

The crunch of dirt pulled him away from the view of the valley.

Turning, he was greeted by the formidable armor encasing Shadow Squad’s members. Ghost, Perez, and Frost walked out of the forest cradling their custom weapons.

Okami burst through a bush, his tail up. He sat between Kichiro and Akira.

“All clear,” Ghost reported.

Akira nodded.

The squad waited as a Nova Alliance officer delivered the terms of surrender to the Coalition. The comms in Akira’s helmet buzzed a few minutes later with a message from General Andrew Thacker.

“Shadow Squad, prepare for battle,” he said.

“Copy,” Akira said. He gestured to the rest of the team. “It’s time.”

Akira mounted Kichiro. He gave the hybrid horse a gentle kick to the flanks. The animal neighed as it led the way into the forest.

Okami scampered ahead, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.

The Engines kept close behind them, already in combat intervals.

Akira alternated his gaze from the forest to the troop movements on his HUD. The three supporting platoons of the Stone Mountain Battalion were advancing into the valley.

Today, there would be no artillery to soften the Coalition numbers. No Short Sword fighter jets would race overhead to drop bombs, and no MOTHs would lower with their Plasma Cannons blazing.

The Coalition had too many human shields with them, and the Nova Alliance feared a public relations disaster if too many civilians were killed.

Today, swords would be drawn, and metal would clash with metal, just like the old days, when samurai had fought and bled on this very land.

The ground came alive with the soft tap of boots that only an Engine could detect from this distance. The Stone Mountain Battalion was rushing into the eastern valley from different directions. The plan was to attack where the river was shallow and narrow, only five hundred feet across.

Shadow Squad had orders to advance from the west, attacking the rearguard of the Coalition Commandos. They would put a cork in the valley’s bottleneck to make retreat impossible.

Akira pulled on the reins when they got into position.

A sudden silence from the warriors passed over the valley, replaced by the wind whistling through the branches and the very distant rush of the waterfall.

The quiet was soon shattered by the blaring of a Coalition battle horn.

Reaching over his shoulder plates, Akira drew his katanas and raised them into the air.

“Death from the shadows!” he shouted.

“AI is salvation!” Perez added.

Kichiro launched down the hill, leading Shadow Squad.

Okami vanished into the brush while the Engines all fanned out. Kichiro leapt over a fallen log, sliding a few feet on the rocky slope before finding purchase again.

At the bottom of the hill, the forest ended at a rocky shoreline tracing the river.

Explosions boomed in the distance, thumps vibrating under Kichiro. A plume of smoke rose into the sky from the east.

The battle was underway.

Kichiro bounded out onto the rocks and hugged the shoreline leading toward the carnage. They quickly passed the abandoned Coalition camp. Chickens and mud-covered pigs scampered out of their way, squawking and squealing. A few Coalition camp workers and family members had remained behind but scattered at the sight of Akira and his horse.

Around the next river bend, the heart of the battle unfolded.

The Stone Mountain infantry had slammed into the Breakers, a blur of swords, spears, and armor expanding across the shallows of the river. There were hundreds of enemy soldiers between Akira and the Pistons.

He took a second to take in the view, spotting enemy snipers in the bluffs on both sides of the river. More commandos hid in the forest firing from elevated positions. Their bolts and bullets tore into helpless Pistons charging across the open valley floor.

Flashing hand signals, he motioned for Frost and Ghost to take out the snipers, and then for Perez to stay with him.

There were at least ten Coalition snipers firing from behind boulders or trees growing on the shoreline. Akira and Perez would work on cutting down these enemy forces well behind the main lines of battle.

Kichiro galloped right toward the enemy positions.

Too distracted by the chaos in front of them, none of the shooters saw them coming.

With his sword slicing through the air, Akira hacked deep into the first man’s back, severing his spine. The broken body collapsed to the rocks as Kichiro rushed toward two more Coalition soldiers. One turned right before the horse slammed into him, sending his armored body splashing into the river.

The other commando twisted toward Akira while bringing up his rifle, but Akira was faster. He scissored his katanas through the man’s neck, right below the nape of the helmet. The head tumbled into the water, blood pumping from the neck.

The pounding of bolts on metal erupted from somewhere to Akira’s left. He turned toward the clatter to find Perez holding his shield up to deflect rounds meant for Kichiro and Akira. The offending sniper fired from behind a tree on the shoreline to the left.

Akira tossed a plasma grenade. It smacked against the trunk, bursting a moment later. The explosion ripped through the tree and into the man hiding behind it.

Akira turned Kichiro back toward the battlefield.

To the north, he spotted Frost and Ghost advancing through the forest, cutting down snipers with their rifles. Okami was with them, sniffing out hidden troops.

Akira focused on the remaining fighters on the outskirts of the main battle. He counted five as he rode toward them, using his katanas to cut them down while Perez provided covering fire.

After chasing down the final soldier, Akira directed Kichiro up an embankment into the cover of the woods. He eyed the heart of the battle in the narrows of the river. Near the center, a squad of ten Breakers protected a single man wearing Piston armor and a Coalition antlered helmet.

This was one of the Nova Alliance defectors.

The sight of the traitor evoked a rabid anger. Akira wanted to bring this monster to justice. A man who was willing to turn his back on his brothers and fight side-by-side with a terrifying enemy was no man at all.

But taking him down meant he had to break through the enemy lines separating Akira from the defector. He wouldn’t risk Kichiro’s life for that, but he did have another idea.

Akira sheathed his swords and yelled, “Perez, your shield!”

Perez tossed it like a disc at Akira. He caught it with one hand. Then he stood in the saddle and jumped. As soon as he was free of the horse, Akira activated his jetpack. The thrusters fired, launching him above the battle.

He unclipped another pair of plasma grenades and lobbed them down as he flew overhead. The explosives landed at the feet of two Breakers. A brilliant blast erupted below the augmented soldiers, the force tearing their bodies from their legs.

Akira dropped down while the rest of the troops were disoriented, pulling out a katana before his boots hit the dirt.

He landed right behind the defector. The man was large for a Piston at over six feet tall. His antlers made him look even more imposing.

With a swing of his katana, Akira removed them from the top of the armet.

The soldier ducked and fired a sawed-off shotgun so fast, all Akira could do was turn. The blast hit him in the back, knocking him to the ground. The impact knocked the air from his lungs.

A Breaker swung an axe at him, but Akira thrust his katana under his chin while gasping for air. He filled his burning lungs and pushed himself back into a crouch with the shield in one hand and sword in the other. The closest Nova Alliance Pistons were still far from his position.

Akira was on his own for now.

He got up in the swirling smoke. Hunks of smoldering gore littered the rocks. The plasma grenades had killed three Breakers, and injured two more that squirmed on the ground.

Four more soldiers had been slightly injured and appeared dazed by the blast.

The only one who didn’t seem completely shell-shocked was the defector. That was exactly what Akira wanted. He wanted this man to see who was about to kill him.

“Captain!” Ghost called over the comms. “Captain, what are you—”

Akira ignored his comrade’s shouts on the team channel.

The defector pulled out a Nova Alliance-issued energy sword in one hand and raised the double-barreled sawed-off shotgun in the other. He aimed at Akira’s helmet just as Akira raised his shield. The blast knocked him back to the ground, the shield spinning away.

By the time he got up again, three Breakers were lumbering over him with their spears.

Fear spiked through Akira.

He had made a fatal error, in the name of revenge, breaking the Warrior Ethos he had sworn to uphold.

Desperate, he tried to blast back into the air to re-position himself in the battle, but his thrusters sputtered. Damaged from the shotgun blast.

Akira turned to look for an exit route, but he was surrounded. He pulled out his other sword.

A Coalition commando shouted from behind, and Akira turned to see the man lifting an axe. Akira sliced upward with his blades, removing both the man’s arms in a swift stroke.

Whirling, Akira fell into a defensive stance against the encroaching Breakers. One launched a spear toward him. He dodged to the side, and the spear impaled the armless commando behind him.

Calls from Shadow Squad filled the comms, but Akira focused on fighting.

He ducked beneath another spear thrust, watching as the defector reloaded his shotgun. With nowhere to go but forward, he charged the Breakers, leaping into the air, and thrusting one katana into the neck of the lead spearman. The augmented soldier collapsed, and Akira used the other sword to slash the next Breaker across his stomach.

The man’s guts sloshed out while Akira approached the final Breaker. Raising his spear, the soldier then launched it straight at Akira’s helmet. After ducking below the missile of steel and wood, Akira drove both of his katanas deep into the chest of his enemy.

The augmented man let out a humph and grabbed Akira by the shoulders, pulling him until they were helmet to helmet.

Akira tried to break free, but in the final seconds of the attack, the defector finished reloading the sawed-off shotgun and aimed it at Akira’s side.

The blast broke Akira free from the Breaker, knocking him to the ground. A burning sensation bloomed in his chest that felt like fire ants were eating his lungs.

He blinked, red swarming his vision as the defector again reloaded the shotgun. Akira tried to move, lifting an arm that sent a fiery jolt of pain through his chest.

Akira looked down. The blast had broken through his armor, blood drizzling out.

Deep down, he felt he deserved it. This was punishment for breaking the Warrior Ethos.

Rattling sounded with each labored breath. He could almost picture the blood filling up his lungs.

The former Piston aimed the shotgun right at Akira’s face. “Akira the Brave, I never thought—”

The man’s voice stopped when the top of his head exploded. Smoke curled out of the exit wound as he fell to his knees, then to the side.

It must have been Frost that had taken that life-saving shot.

He lay there, frozen as the tide of bodies shifted toward him, the Pistons breaking through the lines. A Coalition trooper tumbled to the ground next to him, his eyeball hanging out of a socket.

Boots crushed his skull, as more enemy commandos retreated.

Some of those boots stomped over Akira. Others tripped on his armored plates. He glanced up at ash fluttering from the sky.

Not ash, he realized.

Flower petals, some burning, whirled toward the ground. One fell on his visor, the edges charred. It seemed to melt against the glass, the ashes blown away and clearing to a new sight above him.

Three helmets, each unique. One leaned down. It was Frost’s skeletal mask.

Ghost dropped to his side and Akira was lifted off the ground, his life source pooling inside his chest. He blinked as he was carried away, into the hills of burning trees.

***

Present day…

Akira woke in his quarters on the submarine. His earpiece buzzed with a message from Captain Thomas to come to the CIC. As soon as he swung his legs over the bed, Okami leapt off too and went to the hatch, wagging his tail.

As the fog of sleep lifted, the dream of the battle in the river valley stuck with him. He looked down at his naked chest, seeing the scar where his left lung had been removed and replaced with an artificial organ.

He had almost died that day. All because he had chosen the path of revenge.

It was something he taught the warriors under his command. Especially Tadhg, who had joined the Nova Alliance Strike Force to avenge his father.

The events of the day in the river valley were a good reminder that there was no room for unnecessary heroics in battle.

Especially now, with so much at stake.

After dressing into his uniform, Akira headed to the CIC. Captain Thomas was at his usual spot, studying the holo-screens with an intense gaze.

“Captain,” Akira said with a salute. “Where are we?”

“We’re closing in on Osaka Bay outside of Megacity Osaka,” Thomas said. “We should be in deployment position shortly. We’ll be dark by then, so I’ll send a runner to give you the green light.”

“Copy that. I’ll go see how Juno is doing.”

“Hold on, Captain.”

Akira had already started to cross to the exit but stopped and walked back to the officer.

“War Commander Contos left you this.” Thomas handed Akira a sealed letter. “He left during the night in a submersible with Sergeant Toretto and Corporal Oliver. He said to open this only if he should not return after two days.”

“What? Where did they go?”

“That’s classified,” Thomas said.

Akira took the letter and tucked it away. “Understood, sir.”

His mind raced as he made his way down to the cargo hold. After all of the talk about moving forward carefully, Contos had left in a mini-sub without telling Akira. He had wanted to press Thomas more on the issue, but he trusted the War Commander. The man must have had a good reason for the secrecy.

Ghost was in the hold waiting when Akira arrived. He was equally surprised when Akira shared the news.

“He left?” Ghost asked. “And you have no idea where?”

“No.”

Akira shook his head in dismay. He walked over with Ghost to the twenty deep-diving worker droids. Juno was busy using a comm-pad to scan them each, one by one. Blinky followed her, his arms once again sporting pulse cannons.

“Big happy to see you, Captain Akira,” said the robot. “Big happy, big happy.”

Okami trotted over and barked at Blinky.

“You too, big… little doggy.” Blinky patted Okami’s head with an awkward, jerky movement.

“We’re nearing the first deployment location,” Akira said to Juno.

She nodded without looking up from her comm-pad. “I’ve set aside a tech crate for you per the War Commander’s request. It will have the device you need to extract Apeiron, if you end up deploying at any point.”

“Thank you.”

“Hopefully, my droids will be able to find her so you don’t have to.” She moved down the line of modified deep-sea units, finally looking up. “They’re almost ready. I’m just finishing up tests on their ground-penetrating radars and a few other devices.”

Ghost and Akira examined the heavily armored droids with Okami following. There were four Pistons on duty here too. Each had a rifle in hand just in case something went haywire. Akira didn’t like this many droids in one place, but he had to trust Juno knew what she was doing.

So far, she hadn’t failed them.

A sailor entered the troop hold and walked over.

“We’re almost in position,” he said. “Captain Thomas has ordered silent running. He wants those… things to be as quiet as possible.”

“Big quiet,” Blinky said.

“That means you too,” Juno said.

“Big sorry–” The droid stopped mid-sentence, its facial screen going dark.

Juno lowered a remote as the sailor left the room.

“Big thank you,” Ghost said. “About time…”

Juno looked like she was about to respond when the light dimmed. The critical systems clicked off throughout the sub. Akira could feel the speed being greatly reduced.

“Okay, that should do it,” Juno whispered. “I’m ready to bring the first two online at your command, Captain Hayashi.”

Akira nodded as the Pistons and Ghost crowded around the two droids.

Juno held up her comm-pad and activated the machines in turn. Their facial plates glowed to life.

The sub purred deep under the surface, moving closer to the drop-off point at Osaka Bay. Ghost and Akira helped escort the droids into the pressure chamber. Once they were inside, they sealed off the hatch.

Through the glass viewport, Akira watched the heavily armored black droids. The exterior hatch opened, water rushing in, and bubbles filling the view.

Then the machines were gone, vanishing into the depths where they would activate their motors. They would make their way through the bay and journey to Megacity Osaka.

“Good luck,” Juno whispered.

The submarine immediately turned, curving back out to the safety of deeper water. It would take the machines a few hours to reach the mainland, and by then, the Pelican would be well on its way to the next destination—Akira’s former home. Now the resting place for his brother and son.

He hoped the machines had better luck there than he ever did.

— 6 —

Clouds swallowed the moon.

“This is our chance to move,” Tumea said.

Tucked in a cave behind her and Jackson was their transportation—a custom fishing boat. It was narrow like a canoe but much longer. He still didn’t like it, but Jackson didn’t see anything better.

He stood in an elevated cave opening overlooking a cove the fisherman had taken them to. Only time would tell if the man was right about the machines repairing their superstructure. If that was the reason for the enemy activity at the island, it was possible the Coalition protected shuttle remained a secret.

Jackson looked for their guide, finding he had vanished.

“Where the hell did he go…”

It took a minute of scanning the jungle along the cove, but Jackson finally spotted the man kneeling on the sand. His head was bowed, hands steepled in front of his bandaged face in prayer.

After all the man had just lost, Jackson found it difficult to understand how the old guy could turn to a deity. He had never bought in to religion, partly because he didn’t believe any god that allowed horrors on Earth was one worth worshipping.

It fascinated Jackson that this man still had faith.

Jackson realized maybe he shouldn’t be judging.

The only thing he knew for certain was that AI was not salvation.

When the fisherman finished, Jackson waved him over to help lift the boat with Tumea. They carried it down a path to the cove and slipped down into the water.

Tumea took a seat at the bow. As soon as she was settled, the fisherman climbed over the stern. Jackson waded into the water and pushed the boat out deeper. Then he pulled himself into the middle, nearly capsizing the boat.

“Idiot,” Tumea said.

The fisherman used the paddles to heave them out into the cove. Even injured, the man was definitely stronger than he looked.

Jackson grabbed a paddle to help. He dug in deep, propelling them faster. With each stroke, he trained his INVS eyes on the island in the distance, steeling himself for what awaited them. There was no visible sign of the machines from this vantage.

They would find out soon if the enemy was still there, but first they had to pick up Godfrey and the Pistons.

Water lapped at the side of the boat as he paddled close to shore.

By ten at night, the long canoe approached the bluff where they had left the Pistons. Jackson hopped out with the others and they dragged the boat up the shore into some bushes.

Tumea disappeared into the jungle while Jackson stayed behind with the fisherman. The injured man stood in the shadows, not saying a word. A tear streamed from his remaining eye, carving through the ash.

“They are out there,” he said.

At first, Jackson thought he was talking about the machines. “Who?”

“They have returned to sea, like we are born from sea,” the man continued.

He turned, looking Jackson up and down.

“You are man of war,” he said. “Until machines arrive, we do not know war. The islands were peaceful. The water was peaceful. Nature was peaceful.”

Peace. Not a concept Jackson was truly familiar with.

All Jackson had ever known was being at odds with nature, and especially at odds with the Coalition.

That world had changed overnight.

Enemies had turned into allies, and allies into enemies.

“I will return to sea soon too,” said the man. “I want to be with my family.”

As the moon broke through the clouds, leaves rustled in the jungle. Jackson shouldered his rifle in the direction of the noise.

Godfrey emerged from the foliage, limping, but standing on his own. Tumea and two Pistons came next.

With all their gear, armor and weapons, Jackson doubted the humble fishing boat would carry them all.

“Everyone, strip down,” he said.

“You can’t be serious,” Godfrey said.

“Bare minimum. Weapons, breathing masks, and suits. That’s it.”

“You want us to take off our armor?” asked one of the Pistons.

“Unless you can breathe under water,” Jackson said.

“What do you mean?” the Piston asked.

Godfrey was starting to take off some of his armor. “He means that the boat’s not going to float with all of us weighing it down.”

Tumea started discarding her armor. “You’re not afraid of showing some skin, are ya?”

Both Pistons took off their helmets, exposing youthful features. They coughed from the smoke and debris in the air until they pulled out their breathing masks from their packs.

Jackson set his energy axe and rifle down. He knew he could only bring one weapon. The axe meant more to him than pretty much any physical item he owned. His armor, too, was special. Without it, he felt naked.

But he had to lead by example.

He kissed the axe handle and then set it down in a bush. Maybe he would come back for it someday.

Jackson freed his mohawk by taking off his helmet. Then he removed the rest of his armor, keeping only his cool-suit and non-essential gear. Everything else went behind a tree. When the others were finished, the group moved to the beach in their suits where the fisherman stood watching.

Jackson and Tumea hauled the boat to the water. The soldiers wasted no time getting inside and pushing out into the surf. Once more, the fisherman got into the back with his sturdy wood paddle.

He propelled them out into the surf, and with Jackson’s help, they broke free, gliding across the choppy bay.

Jackson glanced back at the fisherman. The man didn’t have a suit to mask his heat signature. It was a huge risk allowing him to stay in the boat like this. He would be an easy target for the machines, but they needed the guy.

Jackson dug deeper with the paddle, pulling them closer to the island.

As they approached the shore, a roar filled the night. An insect-shaped craft blasted upward as Jackson reached for his rifle. The thrusters of the Praying Mantis fighter burned under the clouds, rocketing the enemy aircraft across the water.

“What do we do?” one of the Pistons asked.

“Stay down,” Godfrey said.

Everyone ducked to the bottom of the craft, the boat swaying. The spaceship blasted overhead, curving out over the bay, then racing across the horizon.

“Faster,” Jackson said, paddling again. “Come on.”

He searched the jungle along the cliffs, not seeing or hearing the enemy. The canoe hugged the shoreline as they navigated along the island.

In the distance, Jackson suddenly picked up the faint clatter of machines. He couldn’t tell if they were worker droids or Canebrakes, but it was clear they were finally approaching the enemy.

Jackson’s eyes shifted to the injured fisherman. He had a look of determination on his face, mirroring Tumea’s expression. But fear radiated from the eyes of the other soldiers. They had no armor, and their weapons were primitive compared to what waited around the rocky bend.

“I’ll scope things out,” Jackson said.

Before anyone could protest, he stood and dove out into the water. He kicked away from the boat, powering through the water in a front-crawl.

As he swam toward the vertical rock shelf along the shore, whining and grinding hit his ears, louder now.

Once he reached the wall, he swam over and reached out to grab hold. Even though he was next to land, he still couldn’t touch bottom.

He followed the shelf for a view around the corner into a bay.

At first, he saw nothing but waves slapping against a beach that stretched back to the jungle. Bluffs and mountains rose above the green and brown terrain.

But among the palm trees was the frame of a partially hidden superstructure. The dangling vines and trees covered much of the legs and base.

Unslinging his rifle, Jackson zoomed in at the top of the machine.

“Fuckin-A,” he whispered.

An army of Hummer Worker Droids, all black, worked around the damaged command center, or head, if you could call it that. Robots used scaffolding to enter vents where light bled out. The smaller machines swarmed in and out like ants around a colony.

Most of the damaged exterior of the superstructure appeared to have been repaired with fresh welds and a patchwork of shiny new alloy.

Jackson searched for Canebrakes in the vicinity. It didn’t take long to find one of the monsters prowling along the sand.

Within minutes, he had identified another three of the war droids. Beyond the trees, there would undoubtedly be more. He directed his rifle scope across the bay, toward the other cliffs. There was a cave somewhere out there that led to the shuttle, but crossing this water seemed like suicide.

Jackson slung his rifle and kicked away from the shelf. He swam back to the boat and climbed up inside to explain what he had seen.

“That way is death,” said Godfrey.

“Not if we aren’t seen,” Tumea said.

“How we going to get past them? You want us to swim?”

Tumea flashed a crazed grin.

“I’ll help you, lieutenant,” said a Piston.

Godfrey glanced back at the soldier, and then nodded.

“Let’s not waste any more time, then,” he said.

The fisherman watched them from a crouch as they prepared to jump overboard.

“Come with us,” Jackson said.

The man shook his head. “The captain must stay with his ship.”

It was clear there would be no convincing him.

The soldiers hopped out into the water one by one. Jackson lingered in the boat for a moment.

“I hope you find your family in the next life, if there is one,” he said to the fisherman.

The man nodded. “You go kill all those machines.”

“Yeah,” Jackson replied. “I’ll kill the bastards.”

“Let’s go,” Godfrey said from the water.

Jackson jumped in and guided the others toward the bay.

The team slowly made their way past the corner and into the open water beyond the bay. Jackson snuck a few glimpses at the shoreline that was at least a half mile away from them. He could make out the Canebrakes, and knew if he could see them, it was possible they would see him.

The one advantage they had were their infrared suits. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing the fisherman stayed behind. Without a suit, he would have given them away for sure.

As the group neared the shore, two of the Canebrakes patrolled the beach.

The machines were definitely looking out in the water with their fanned heads, but they had yet to sound the alarm.

Jackson alternated his gaze from them to the massive superstructure where the Hummer droids were repairing a final damaged portion of the command center.

Every few strokes, Jackson checked on the beach, metal tower, and then the others behind him.

We’re going to make it, he thought.

They were almost to safety.

He sighted up the bluffs, maybe ten minutes away now.

Coughing from behind him shattered his newfound hope.

He turned back to the others, seeing Godfrey struggling.

A rattling rang out on the shoreline.

“No, no, no,” Jackson whispered. The fanned skulls of the Canebrakes on shore turned toward them, scanning the water.

Jackson reached for the rifle over his back as he treaded water. His gaze alternated from the Pistons, back to the machines. The Canebrakes started into the waves, their segmented arms going up in a striking position.

Across the bay, a burst of fire emerged.

The glowing blue eyes darted in that direction. Jackson squinted at the illuminated shape of the fishing boat. The fisherman had paddled out, and was holding a burning flare.

“The hell are you…” Realization passed over Jackson.

The man was done with this world. He was ready to join his family and return to the sea, just as he’d told Jackson.

The rattling echoed over the water, followed by a booming blast from the mountain. A teardrop-shaped enemy fighter lifted off from behind the island.

It lowered toward the bay.

The Canebrakes remained on the beach, distracted by the boat.

Jackson slotted his rifle and pushed to the other side of the bay with the team. Far behind them, the teardrop-shaped ship came down over the fishing boat. The fisherman was now standing, waving the flare at the enemy craft.

As they reached the shore, Jackson rose out of the crashing waves and motioned for the others to run up into the jungle for cover. They raced toward the foliage.

A gunshot cracked behind them.

Then a second.

Jackson turned back toward the bay. The fisherman aimed his archaic rifle at the hovering ship. Turrets protruding off the bow glowed a fiery red.

“Come on,” Tumea said behind Jackson.

She put a hand on his shoulder and pulled.

He finally turned and ran into the jungle.

When he made it to cover, he looked one last time, expecting to see the man burst from the microwave weapon.

Instead, it lifted him up into the air and into the bowels of the ship.

Worse than the fate of death, the man was now a prisoner of the machines.

***

“Be careful,” Chloe said.

She embraced Cyrus.

Tadhg wasn’t used to all this sappy stuff. To him, it was a waste of time, but he wasn’t that big of an asshole to complain.

Instead, he focused on the heartless order from War Commander Thacker.

Permission to dust Atlas Station.

The bastard had to be stopped.

It was remarkable anyone believed Thacker was saving humanity with his cruel and harsh so-called leadership. In reality, he was dooming them.

“Okay, let’s go,” Cyrus said.

He stole a final glance toward Chloe before stepping into the airlock with Tadhg. Both of them wore vacuum-rated suits, armor, and exoskeletons for the journey to Atlas Station.

After the chamber depressurized, Cyrus opened the exterior hatch. Cold darkness greeted them as they moved out into the dusty terrain surrounding the abandoned station.

Tadhg didn’t look back, but Cyrus did, twice.

“Pay attention,” Tadhg said over the short-range comms.

“You got it,” Cyrus replied. “I’ll take point.”

Tadhg wasn’t used to having a civilian give him orders, but he wasn’t going to be a dick about that either. After all, Cyrus was risking his neck to help Tadhg get arms.

They trekked away from the facility, making good time with the use of the exoskeletons. Tadhg had toyed with using jetpacks, which could cut the time to their destination by half. He certainly liked the idea of spending as little time as possible in the regolith, but he would have a hell of a time controlling his without arms.

Plus, he didn’t want to risk being seen by any MOTH patrol. It was damn lucky they evidently hadn’t been spotted when that spacecraft had circled over the station earlier.

Tadhg followed Cyrus up a mound of dust, trying to keep his balance. At the top, they could see the edge of the Shoemaker Crater. They advanced toward it cautiously, then peered down into the black hole. The ancient mining elevator that went to the bottom wasn’t far.

Tadhg had no idea if it was safe, but besides falling, this was their only way down to the former mining fields which would lead to Atlas Station.

They approached the rig built onto the edge of the crater. There were two elevator car slots, but only one car at the top.

Cyrus opened the gate to the tramlike car. Then he turned to the power-box. As expected, it was offline. He pulled a battery unit from his pack that they had prepared for this exact obstacle.

After connecting it, the screen glowed.

Welcome User, it read.

A moment later, the elevator jolted, and down they went.

Tadhg checked the mini-map on his HUD to watch their descent into the one and a half mile deep hole. It was hard to imagine how big the asteroid was that hit here, carving out a thirty mile wide stretch of Moon rock.

During the descent, the temperature plummeted.

It took almost an hour to reach the bottom. When they did, the temperature read negative two hundred sixty degrees Fahrenheit.

Cyrus opened the gate and hopped out with his rifle at the ready. Tadhg followed, his boots hitting the solid ground. Their helmet lights illuminated tracks from mining rigs. The two men followed it for the next hour.

When they closed in on the final mile, a light winked on then off across the horizon. Cyrus, who was about ten feet ahead of Tadhg, kept advancing like he hadn’t seen it.

As Tadhg bounded to catch up, the light came again. He considered breaking radio silence, but this time, Cyrus had stopped too, going down on a knee.

They both shut off their helmet lights.

The darkness tightened around Tadhg.

That single light pierced the stygian black. It was coming from the direction of Atlas Station.

Standing, Tadhg took over as point. He melted into the inky darkness, moving slowly over the hard terrain.

The light winked again, but this time, it seemed to be rising.

In the glow, Tadhg spotted the source of the light—a MOTH that had taken flight. It rose above the facility and then blasted into the darkness.

Tadhg stayed down for several minutes to make sure it didn’t return. When he judged it was safe enough to continue, he nodded at Cyrus.

They pushed onward, Tadhg watching his mini-map as they got closer. He used it to guide them toward the western sector of the facility that was above the surface as they blindly roamed over the landscape.

When they reached the building, Cyrus switched on his rifle’s tactical light. The beam speared over the three-story structure. He moved fast, quickly sweeping over the ground where the MOTH had lifted off.

Tadhg spotted footprints. Most were from the heavy boots of LDC Troopers, but he also saw smaller civilian tracks.

Had some of the hybrids survived? Or were these some of the former scientists?

The entrance hatch to the building was destroyed, leaving a mangled piece of metal in the dust outside. Tadhg followed Cyrus around it. Dust particles and debris covered the interior lobby.

The habitat was gone: no air and no artificial gravity. Not a single light remained either.

Two blackened corpses lay sprawled in the connecting hallway, facedown. Rifles lay beside them. Tadhg passed the charred remains, his helmet light beaming into the hallway.

Cyrus led the way through the facility, passing several dead civilians, their bodies twisted like leafless tree limbs. Tadhg could picture what had happened during the dusting. The explosions would have ripped through the facility, blasting holes to compromise its structural integrity.

The life support systems would have shut down, and the cold would have rushed in, freezing the still burning bodies of those trapped in the initial inferno.

The first four interior doors were all blown open from the blasts.

As they advanced, it appeared the fire wave seemed to have made it down to the lower level. It wasn’t until they got to the third level under the structure that they reached a door that hadn’t been blasted. Cyrus pushed it open to another hallway.

Singe marks on the walls told the story of a firefight that occurred before the dusting. Multiple armored bodies were in heaps on the floor, burns in their suits from plasma bolts.

Tadhg guessed that meant the troopers had retreated without their dead after they failed to take back the facility. That must have led Thacker to order the complete destruction of this place, instead of wasting more lives trying to take it back.

Cyrus led them deeper into the facility until they reached the medical labs. Parts of the passage were blocked with lab equipment and furniture. The hybrids must have tried to create a blockade.

While this area hadn’t been torched, there was still no evidence of breathable atmosphere or artificial gravity.

Cyrus swept his rifle back and forth, clearing each lab until they approached the Research and Development sector.

Shattered glass windows provided glimpses into small rooms with chairs and medical equipment. Tadhg shone his light into each, stopping when he saw a body still secured by bounds.

It was a woman, her flesh frozen and pale. Open eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Tadhg had already heard what they were doing to these people, but seeing it reignited his anger with the LDC.

Cyrus stopped at another closed hatch. He gestured with his rifle, indicating this was their target destination.

Tadhg nodded. He watched the halls while Cyrus attached a battery unit to the door.

After a few minutes, the door opened.

Cyrus strode inside with his rifle. After clearing the space, he slung his weapon and then set his pack on a table. Over the next hour, they searched for the items Chloe had requested, including a skullcap that would allow Tadhg to control the arms.

After securing their checklist, Cyrus led them up a different route topside through a stairwell to save time. They hurried up all four floors, stopping at the landing at the surface level.

Cyrus tightened the strap of his pack, then raised his rifle in one hand, and opened the door with the other.

They had come out on the eastern side of the building in an open hangar. Frozen lumps littered the open room. Judging by the positioning of the bodies, this was where the hybrids were when the dusting occurred. Hundreds of bodies lay scattered, but most were clustered together, like they had gathered here.

Oh, God, Tadhg thought.

They were waiting for a transport.

Perhaps Thacker had promised them safe passage, only to kill them all.

Tadhg heaved a filtered breath as he crossed the hangar, shining his light on the burned and frozen bodies. At the front of the group was the corpse of a woman with two prosthetic arms.

Cyrus bent down to examine the body.

When he got up, he motioned for Tadhg to follow. They left the facility and didn’t look back, not stopping until they got to the elevator rig.

Cyrus finally spoke on the short-range comms when the car began to climb out of the crater.

“Don’t tell Chloe what we found,” he said coldly. “The one with prosthetics was her friend, Giana.”

“You don’t think she should know?”

“I’ll tell her eventually, but right now, we need her focused on getting you back into action.”

The elevator finally clicked back up to the top of the crater rim. Over the horizon, Tadhg saw Earth. He was getting closer to finding his way back to Shadow Squad.

“Hold on, my friends,” Tadhg whispered. “I’ll be there soon.”

— 7 —

“Nothing on the passive sonar,” said Captain Thomas.

Akira watched the screens in the CIC of the Pelican. After a long journey, and traveling at their top speeds, they were two hours outside of Megacity Tokyo. So close to his home.

Ghost folded his arms over his chest, glancing from screen to screen, nervous just like everyone else.

They still had no word from War Commander Contos, and the letter he left behind was burning against Akira’s chest. It had only been one full day since his departure, leaving another agonizing day to wait.

Behind Akira, Juno had set up a holo-screen station that provided angles from both droids deployed to Osaka. They were still underwater, advancing through the murky bay to avoid being seen.

“Not much longer,” Juno said. “Should have a visual on the crater there by the time we close in on Tokyo to drop off the other droids.”

“Big visual, big visual,” Blinky said. “Of big Tokyo, big Tokyo.”

“Can we do this without the narration?” Ghost asked.

“Big narration—”

“Blinky, quiet,” Juno said.

“Big quiet… big quiet…” the droid whispered back.

For once, Akira found himself somewhat amused by the droid. A bit of humor was not a bad thing with so much riding on this recon mission.

Soon, they would have their first view of Megacity Osaka and Megacity Tokyo since E-Day. These visuals would give them a ground level view from the modified robots.

“Okay, here we go,” Juno said.

“Hope these oversized tin cans do a better job than we could,” Ghost said.

Juno finally glanced up from the screen. “You would rather be out there?”

“I’d rather be singing with Tadhg right now and getting shitfaced at a Droid Raider match if you want to know the truth, but here I am.”

“Right now, this is the closest we’re going to get to a Droid Raider match,” Juno said, gesturing toward the screens.

Both camera views cleared as the machines rose out of the bay and climbed up a muddy embankment.

Smoke drifted across the sun as the two droids made their way across a street. Blackened lumps of vehicles littered the asphalt like melted candy.

The two droids crossed the ruins of a former business district reduced to mountains of rubble.

For an hour, the visuals revealed the ruins like they had seen in every other city left by the tidal wave of fire from the Poseidon Cannons. As the droids got closer to the crater rim, the destruction grew worse, everything flattened along the horizon.

Captain Thomas joined them. “We’re almost to the insertion point for the droids going to Tokyo.”

Juno stood. “I’ll head down to the launch bay. Come on, Blinky.”

“I’ll go with you to make sure nothing goes wrong,” Ghost said.

“They aren’t going to turn on us,” Juno said.

“Forgive me if I’m not completely confident of that.”

Akira stayed in the CIC.

On the screen, a visual of the crater rim appeared. By the time the droids found a route through the scree of debris, Ghost and Juno had returned.

She sat down in front of another monitor and brought up the feed from the two new droids.

“Don’t worry,” Ghost said to Akira. “This time, we left Blinky below.”

“I was actually beginning to like him,” Akira said.

The mirrored view from the two recently deployed droids appeared on the screen. Their propellers pushed them through Tokyo Bay.

“They’re moving much faster than the last pair,” Juno said quietly. “Hopefully, we’ll have a visual of the crater in Tokyo within the next two hours.”

It was going to be a long two hours.

Before anyone could say anything else, a Praying Mantis fighter shot over the two droids in Osaka.

“Shit…” Ghost said.

“Don’t worry,” Juno said.

The Praying Mantis curved across the sky but never returned.

“See?” she asked. “They’re perfectly capable of avoiding detection.”

On screen, the Osaka droids marched through the rubble to the crater’s edge. A mangled heap of metal blocked their view of what was on the other side. The droids set off through the guts of the structure, working through a partially caved-in bottom level of an apartment building.

They made their way across the cracked floor and out through a hallway. The end of the passage seemed to drop away.

As the droids approached it, their video feeds revealed half of the building had fallen into the crater.

The sun was starting to go down on the horizon, but there was plenty of light to see the bowl was a hub of activity.

Praying Mantis fighters patrolled the perimeter in swarms.

“Shit, they’re everywhere,” Ghost whispered.

Across the crater, a Hunter Ship flew low, red beams raking across the ground.

“Activating scanners,” Juno said.

Both mirrored views showed hundreds of small dots on their visuals.

“Are those hostiles?” Akira asked.

“Each dot represents a machine as detected by our droids,” Juno said. “As you can see, in this sector alone, there are Hummer Worker Droids, service droids, Canebrakes, and more.”

Akira couldn’t believe how many were out there. So much for the intel about their being less enemy forces here than Megacity Seoul and Megacity Shanghai.

“Activating the ground-penetrating radar,” Juno whispered.

A small green map of under-surface objects showed on the holo-screen of both droids. They advanced slowly due to deteriorating conditions ahead.

Flames spewed out of holes in the dirt, making it dangerous for even the modified droids. The pair trekked into a ravine that carved all the way down into the bottom of the crater.

On the map, small pockets of buried structures emerged, but nothing large enough to be a Life Ark.

Juno pointed at the screen.

“What is that?” she asked.

Akira didn’t see anything.

She tapped at her control pad, zooming in with the advanced optics both droids were equipped with. The imagery that came back made Akira tense.

A group of three Canebrakes prowled through the ravine, their blades glowing. The enemy seemed to be walking right toward the two deep-sea droids.

“It will be okay,” Juno whispered.

All three Canebrakes charged right for the two droids. Juno kept them right on their path.

“The moment of truth,” Ghost said.

The Canebrakes surrounded the two droids, circling them like Iron Wolves ready to attack.

“I think they’re scanning us,” Juno said.

A fourth Canebrake suddenly leapt into the ravine, landing right in front of the deep-sea droids. The blue eyes on its fanned head glowed, widening and turning purple for a fleeting moment.

It used the segmented arms to push it up higher, towering three feet over the hummer droid as it scanned them.

Then it leapt back to the ridge it had come from. The other three machines also clambered away.

“Wow, it worked,” Ghost said.

“Of course it worked,” Juno replied with a grin. “I told you.”

The droids continued through the ravine connected to the bottom of the crater. They passed through a field of debris. Extreme heat had incinerated everything from steel to stone. No creatures would have survived here. A perfect place for the machines to make their home.

The ground-penetrating radar continued to reveal mostly dense dirt and rock, nothing to indicate a Life Ark. However, there was a network of tunnels and holes the machines were using, coming and going like a hive of insects.

“What do you think is down there?” Ghost asked.

“The radar isn’t picking up anything remotely the size of a Life Ark,” Juno said. “I could split up the droids and send one down a tunnel. Might be risky.”

“I’m dying to know where those tunnels lead,” Akira said.

“Could be a good chance to see what the machines are up to,” Ghost added.

“It’s settled then.” Juno tapped at the screen, giving the machines new orders.

The two views rotated away from one another as the droids parted. Akira watched the feed that moved toward a tunnel opening. The droid peered down into a ribbed passage that looked like it was bored by some massive construction equipment.

It marched into the tunnel, heading deeper underground. The screen began to fizzle slightly, the signal attenuated by the earth, but Akira could still see the map from the radar.

A massive hollow space appeared on the map.

“Maybe this is the Life Ark,” he whispered.

Juno watched intensely, just inches from the screen.

Another ten minutes passed before the droid finally reached a wider tunnel that came out above a deep, dark space. Juno ran a scan that came back on fire with contacts.

The chamber itself was over two thousand feet deep and twice as wide. Hundreds of Hummer Worker Droids toiled around the machine-made cavern.

They had built something Akira never expected.

“It’s a city,” he whispered.

“More like a hive,” Juno replied.

The droid had a perfect view of the underground lair.

“Wait a second,” Juno said. “Look!”

She indicated to the mirrored view of the droid still on the surface.

Dozens of ten-story superstructures rose out of the crater ground, surrounded by droids on scaffolding.

Superstructures, Akira realized.

The same kind they had encountered back in Vietnam.

An army of the worker droids labored on the walking towers of metal.

“This must be a factory,” Juno said.

Their droid marched forward, passing patrols of Canebrakes, and metal poles sticking out of the ground like road signs.

“Are those…” Ghost started to say.

Deformed and decayed human heads were impaled on the posts.

“Oh God,” Juno said, cupping a hand over her mouth.

“Why?” Ghost said. “Why would the machines use the dead like this?”

“Scarecrows,” Akira whispered, “to warn anyone that might attack this place.”

“To go to these lengths, these horrors, they must be hiding something invaluable to their cause down here,” Juno said.

Their droid kept walking, undisturbed by the enemy units.

Back in the tunnel, the other droid had started across a platform for a different vantage of the activity at the bottom. Akira expected to see some sort of factory where they were building more machines or weapons.

But this place seemed different.

Canebrakes patrolled around a central area where white Hummer Medical droids, gray from ash and dust, worked around hundreds of tables. Overhead lights spread over the squirming shapes of humans on the metal slabs.

“They’re making Dreads,” Akira said.

A Canebrake suddenly leapt in front of the mirrored view. The eyes flashed. Then the camera angle tilted to the side.

It took Akira a moment to understand the head was sheared off the neck. The body collapsed right in front of the severed droid head.

Juno put up her hands. “What just happened?”

The Canebrake stomped the head, and the feed fizzled off.

“It somehow made us,” Akira said.

“We walked into a hive,” Juno said. “What did you expect?”

“Expect?” Ghost asked. “You said the droids would be invisible. What was that about?”

“This intel was worth the loss,” Akira said. “And Juno’s right, we’re in a hive. It was just a matter of time before the machines figured these droids don’t belong. At least we still have one left.”

The remaining droid had almost made it to the superstructures.

“Should I recall it?” Juno asked.

“Not yet,” Akira said. He narrowed his eyes at something on one of the towers of metal. “What is that? Can you zoom in?”

Juno tapped a few controls, and the view enlarged, revealing rockets running along the side of the superstructures.

“Why would they need…” Juno looked to Akira. “Are they launching these to the Moon?”

Akira studied the metal towers, all being built with rockets to lift them off the ground. He could also see thrusters that would blast them across space.

“Shit, shit, we got company again,” Juno said.

A pack of three Canebrakes barreled toward the droid, blue eyes flashing as they scanned it.

Before the team could do anything, the machines diced the sea droid into slabs with their super-heated blades.

But this time, they didn’t destroy the head.

All three clambered away, leaving the view of the butchered sea droid active.

Akira knew the machines hadn’t left the head working without a reason.

Ten minutes later, a black-armored Hummer Worker Droid strode into view. Akira recognized this model—it was the same type Doctor Otto Cross had used to communicate with him in the Hunter Ship back in Vietnam.

The black machine crouched down to pick up the droid head. It brought the face up to its own.

Without audio, there was no way to hear what this enemy droid was saying. But it was clear Otto was examining them by the way the jaw curled into an evil grin of jagged teeth that it used to crunch down on the head.

No one in the CIC said anything for a few seconds as the visuals were digested.

There was no mistaking what they had found in Osaka: a factory building machines to go to the moon and an army of Dreads to go with them.

Juno turned to the screens of the droids deployed to Megacity Tokyo. Both had already made landfall and were nearing the crater.

“Standby for visuals,” Juno said.

The minutes ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an hour.

Akira got up and went to talk to Captain Thomas, asking about Contos, but there was still no word from the War Commander.

Juno suddenly waved, and Akira rushed back to the screens. He leaned down, seeing his former home was nothing but a seemingly endless crater.

“Running scans,” Juno said.

The mini-map came back without any hits.

She glanced back at Akira.

“What does this mean?” Ghost asked.

“It means the machines abandoned Megacity Tokyo.” Juno shook her head. “Why? Why would they do that?”

“I doubt they completely abandoned it,” Akira said.

“I don’t see any sign evidence of them, Captain.”

Akira sat back down and watched for an hour as the droids advanced through the empty destruction. Unlike the crater at Osaka, the crater at Tokyo was devoid of enemies.

Maybe Juno was right. Maybe the machines had abandoned the crater.

If that was the case, then it was the opportunity Akira needed to sneak in and search for Apeiron. That was exactly what the War Commander had authorized before he left. And with Contos still gone, it was up to Akira to complete this mission.

“Get Okami and Kichiro ready,” he said. “I’m going to find Apeiron myself.”

— 8 —

Lieutenant Godfrey’s wet coughs pierced the mostly silent caves. Jackson knew the guy was trying to hold it in, but like all of the soldiers, his mask filters needed to be replaced. Jackson felt the burn in his chest too. Dust and toxins were getting into all their lungs.

But that was the least of his worries right now.

Jackson returned to the cave entrance they had entered through, his rifle cradled, listening for the machines.

For the first time since being stranded here, he felt the tendrils of regret tightening around his heart.

Maybe he should have escaped with Shadow Squad when he had the chance. Staying behind seemed so futile now.

Tumea joined him. “We need to talk.”

She led him back to Godfrey. The man winced as he tried to sit up.

“So what’s the plan?” Jackson asked.

“I think we should stay here until that thing moves on,” Godfrey said.

“What if the machine inadvertently finds the shuttle?” Jackson asked.

“What if we leave and lead the machines to the shuttle?”

“Yeah…” Jackson grunted.

“Look, I hate hiding, but it might be our best option,” Godfrey said. “There are hundreds of civilians in the caves a few miles from here.”

“Yeah, and what if they need our help?” Tumea asked. “What if the machines have found them?”

“Then they don’t need our help, because they’re already dead.” Godfrey held a hand up to mask his cough. “What do you think, Jackson?”

“I think we’ve come this far,” he replied. “We might as well keep going.” He reached down to Godfrey. “Come on, I’ll help you, lieutenant.”

“All right, I’m not going to protest, but I hope we’re not making a mistake.” Godfrey gripped his hand, and Jackson pulled him to his feet.

“I’ll lead the way,” Tumea said.

The other two Pistons packed up their gear and followed her to another tunnel leading to the eastern side of the mountain. She seemed to know the route well, stalking quietly with their flashlight beams as guides.

An hour later, they emerged in a cavern overlooking the jungle.

She started down a rocky path into the thick vegetation. The rain made moving difficult, their boots sinking in the mud and leaving behind tracks.

Without his power armor, Jackson felt vulnerable. He swept his rifle barrel over the terrain, searching for any glints of metal and listening for the rattle of the Canebrakes.

The only thing that hit his ears was the distant clap of thunder.

Tumea guided them around the mountain, putting at least two miles between them and the abomination of metal back in the bay.

Jackson checked the sky every few minutes, expecting to see Praying Mantis fighters or the Hunter Ships. Perhaps most of the army had moved on.

Banana leaves reached out as he made his way under the branches. His boots slurped along a muddy slope that connected to a cliff overhead.

Something slapped into the mud behind Jackson, followed by a pained grunt. He turned to see Godfrey drenched in mud, trying to push himself back to his feet. The two Pistons with them helped him to his feet.

“Let me carry you,” Jackson said.

“No, I’m fine,” Godfrey said. “Just watch our backs.”

As Jackson turned around again, he spotted Tumea waving from a tree at the top of the slope. He fell in behind the Pistons, trailing the group on the steep journey up the mountainside. The downpour got worse, sloshing off the canopy and washing down the rocks.

Godfrey fell again, this time taking a Piston with him. The clank of his rifle hitting a rock echoed between the trees.

Jackson froze, waiting for the reply from a hunting Canebrake.

Hearing nothing, he motioned for the team to push onward.

Tumea vanished in the jungle ahead again.

By the time Jackson and the other soldiers caught up, she was standing at a clearing in the jungle overlooking a three-hundred-foot drop to the shoreline.

Waves crashed against the rocky beach.

Jackson almost reached out to grab Tumea when she stepped off the ledge.

But she didn’t plummet to the rocks below. She snagged a cable dangling from the vertical rock that served as a railing over a narrow rock path Jackson hadn’t seen earlier.

Rain pelted the group as they cautiously made their way along the narrow ledge. Jackson was the last on, and his first step sent a shard of rock cracking off.

He held the cable, his weight tugging against it. The cable seemed to pull at the rusted bolts securing it to the rock. Each of those bolts looked precariously close to popping out.

Tumea moved around a corner at the front of the pack. Next went Godfrey, and finally, the other two Pistons. Jackson went slowly until he got to the corner.

A distant rattle cut through the rain.

Jackson looked down at the beach but saw nothing. Above, there were no contacts in the bluffs or dangling vines either.

Finally, he moved around the corner. The walkway seemed to end in front of a waterfall where the other four soldiers were all side by side.

Tumea walked straight into the flowing water, vanishing. Water pelted Jackson on the way through. As soon as he cleared the falls, he saw a blast door built into the rock about ten feet into a small cave.

Godfrey moved in front of everyone, reaching down into his vest and pulling out a coin-sized scanner. He pressed it up against a reader beside the door.

The locks inside the door released with a metallic click, and the door began to swing open.

As soon as it did, a blinding light hit the group. Jackson raised a hand to shield his INVS eyes.

“No one fucking move,” came a deep voice.

The lights dimmed a moment later.

Jackson blinked away the stars before his eyes, grateful to hear human voices. But as his vision cleared, he saw those faces seemed far from friendly.

Four heavily armed Coalition soldiers wearing bone-plated armor, and helmets topped with antlers stood with weapons aimed at his face.

“Easy, easy,” Godfrey said.

Tumea stepped forward into the barrel of a rifle. “It’s me, you assholes.”

The soldier holding the weapon pulled it away and gestured inside.

“Go,” he grunted.

They hurried into the passage, and the door sealed shut behind them with a thud.

“Were you followed?” asked their leader, a six-foot tall beefy man with tusks to the bottom of his helmet.

“If we were, I wouldn’t have come here,” Tumea said. “The rain should wash away any tracks we left too.”

The tusked warrior looked from her to Jackson.

“Who is this?” he growled.

“Lieutenant Andy Jackson with the Nova Alliance Fire Snakes,” Tumea said. “Jackson, meet Colonel Boar.”

They sized each other up for several long beats.

“We can trust him,” Tumea said. “He’s helped me a lot.”

Boar snorted, then turned and started walking.

“I get the sense we’re not welcome here,” Jackson said.

“We are, you aren’t,” Tumea said. “But don’t worry, I got your back.”

She slapped him on the shoulder and then started into the tunnel.

Unlike the other caves, this wasn’t a natural passage. Instead, it was surrounded by concrete walls and floors, a bunker expertly hidden behind that waterfall.

That wasn’t even the impressive part.

Another blast door opened to a platform that looked over a mammoth hollow section of the mountain.

Jackson looked over the guardrail.

“Holy shit,” he said.

The platform was three hundred feet above the ground. A shuttle was docked on a launch platform, its nose pointed toward the heavens.

Closed launch doors topped the space. Whatever was on the other side must have also been disguised to look like the mountain.

The group began climbing down a ladder one by one.

Jackson waited for his turn, noticing hundreds of people camped around the base of the shuttle. The group crowded around them as they reached the bottom. To his surprise, almost all were Coalition and civilians.

Babies and infants clung to their parents. Sons and daughters helped their elderly parents.

Indistinct chatter broke out all around as Jackson passed through the crowd. Hands reached out to him, some of them touching his arms and back like he was some sort of divine entity.

“Quiet,” Boar said.

The crowd followed them around the shuttle to a closed door guarded by two Coalition Commandos. The guards opened the door to reveal a storage space full of stacked boxes and crates.

Boar led the group past the supplies and into another small room furnished with a metal desk. A map of the islands hung from the wall.

Boar took his place on the other side of the desk. “What happened to the others?”

“We’re all that’s left,” Tumea replied.

“What about your people?” Boar asked Jackson.

“They retreated to a safe zone with some of the civilians.”

Boar snorted. “They run with their tails between their legs after they bring the machines here.”

Jackson didn’t exactly agree, but he wasn’t about to pick a fight.

This wasn’t the time or place.

“My scouts are watching the towering machine at the other side of the island,” Boar said. “When it leaves, we’ll launch the shuttle with our families to the moon.”

“You can’t do that–” Godfrey started to say.

“I’m not asking you,” Boar said. “I’m in charge now that your people are dead.”

Godfrey glanced at Jackson. “Not all of them.”

“Look, even if the towering machine, as you call it, leaves, that shuttle won’t make it far without being shot down,” Godfrey said.

Boar pounded the desk with a fist. “I’m not asking you!”

Tumea scratched the back of her head nervously.

“If we don’t leave this place, it will become our tomb,” Boar said. “I would rather die trying to get families out than wait for the machines to tear them apart. Or worse, let them become prisoners.”

Godfrey backed away, clearly intimidated.

“Lieutenant Godfrey’s right,” Jackson said. He wouldn’t let the man bully him into submission. “You launch that shuttle without any air support and it’s going to be turned to ash before it even reaches the clouds.”

Boar walked around the desk, stopping a foot away from Jackson.

“Your words mean nothing,” he said.

Tumea stepped up again. “You boys done comparing pricks yet?” she asked.

Boar pointed a finger over Jackson’s shoulder. “I’m done with you two. Out.”

“Let’s go,” Godfrey said.

He started to leave, but Jackson hesitated.

“Boar, you—” Jackson started.

Tumea just shook her head. Jackson didn’t know the woman well, but if she said something was better left abandoned for now, then he would listen. She hadn’t led him wrong yet.

Tumea left with them, then shut the door and sighed.

“Boar is a bit rough around the edges, but his heart means well,” she said. “His family is here and he is trying to keep them alive.”

After she led them out of the storage area, she indicated a woman holding a toddler with a young boy maybe the age of six standing next to her.

“And you?” Jackson asked. “You have family here?”

“In the beginning, a cousin, but she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should grab some food, water, and some sleep,” she said.

Jackson left with Godfrey to find the other Pistons. They were in a corner of the space, already eating with three other Pistons that Jackson had yet to meet. He felt better knowing he had more allies here in this Coalition-filled shelter.

After filling his stomach, Jackson found a spare sleeping pad. He was exhausted and glad to let the Coalition soldiers hold watch.

“You better get some rest too,” he said to Godfrey.

Godfrey nodded.

It didn’t take long for Jackson to drift off.

When he woke, he had no idea how much time had passed. He sat up in a daze, the ground shaking.

“What the hell…” he muttered.

People were rushing toward the shuttle.

Jackson pushed himself up. Godfrey and the Pistons were all standing now, looking around as if they were confused.

Dust rained from the ceiling.

Cold realization set in.

The superstructure had been repaired and was moving.

Tumea fought her way through the panicked crowd toward them.

“The scouts said the tower–” She looked up as more dust fell from the ceiling. It was the first time Jackson had seen fear in her eyes. “It’s coming this way.”

“Then we have to distract it or lead it away,” Jackson said. “It can’t find this place.”

The fear in her eyes softened, and a grin crossed her face.

“I like you,” Tumea said. “You are crazy, like me.”

She took off for the ladder with Jackson right behind her.

At the top, he looked back down at the frightened faces. Most were civilians. Boar was down there, herding his wife and kids into the shuttle.

It didn’t matter that the Colonel was once his mortal enemy. His family was innocent. They were why Jackson fought. Why he had become an Engine.

He had taken a vow to protect the innocent.

Coalition or Nova Alliance. It didn’t matter. He would fight with his last breath to save as many lives as possible.

***

Ronin stood in line with the now twenty-nine members of the Machine Slayers platoon inside a briefing room at Kepler Station. A day had passed since the drill that resulted in Orson losing his leg. The LDC continued to justify it with hollow words.

“When the time comes, there will be seconds to respond,” Zlaner told the platoon. “And while several cadets were injured in the chaos of the drill, this is exactly the type of training that is required for what awaits us.”

Ronin understood what Zlaner was saying, but it didn’t really make logical sense. Maybe the truth was that the sergeant didn’t know the real reason behind the botched drill.

He simply couldn’t understand how the LDC had made such a vital error.

Unless they meant to.

Don’t trust the LDC, Tadhg had told him.

Now Ronin had another reason to believe Tadhg was onto something.

The door opened, and the platoon lieutenant, a woman named Ariana Ortiz, walked inside. Her hair was cut short, just below her chin, and her dark eyes commanded everyone’s attention.

She was one of only a few women fighting for the LDC after the Lunar Council passed a law to keep fertile women from serving in a combat role. But Ortiz had been grandfathered in, based off her Earth service record. Rumor had it she single-handedly took out two Canebrakes on E-Day.

The lieutenant held up her rifle for everyone to see.

“Today you will learn how to fire one of these,” she said in an authoritative voice. “The RS-3 plasma rifle is the most advanced weapon in the history of warfare. Light, agile, accurate, and extremely powerful.”

She nodded at Zlaner, who walked over to the holo-port terminal. The lights dimmed.

“Before a bolt is fired, we’re showing you the enemy,” Ortiz said. “You’ve seen the Canebrakes, but you have yet to see the vessel they will likely arrive in, a vessel our pilots encountered and destroyed last week.”

Zlaner tapped the holo-port and a giant hologram of a ship appeared over the cadets. It was a weird design with a teardrop-shaped fore section connected to a bulbous, almost disc-shaped bow. Two wing-like structures jutted up from the bow on the dorsal side. Along the aft, two more wing-like structures angled downward followed by a single dorsal wing.

“This is actual footage,” Ortiz called out.

The hologram lowered to the lunar surface with six jointed legs. It used those legs to scurry up a mound. On the other side of the mound, a group of troopers, dwarfed by the machine, fled in all directions. The fast-moving craft crushed one with a piercing leg while mowing the others down with plasma bolts.

“We’re calling these enemy vessels, Ironclads,” Ortiz said.

“What can we even do to stop a ship like that?” someone asked.

Ronin recognized the voice as the same kid that had asked how they were expected to kill Canebrakes. But this time, the answer was far different.

“You don’t,” Ortiz said. “As advanced as the RS-3 rifle is, it’s useless against the Ironclads. Our cannons will destroy these vessels. We’re showing you this because it’s possible you will encounter one of these on a patrol, and if that happens, you don’t play hero. You run.”

“I can’t believe this is real,” Bradley whispered. “This is a nightmare.”

Ronin felt his heartbeat quicken. Part of him was glad Elan was back at the colony. He missed him, but he couldn’t imagine his brother being on the surface with those Ironclads potentially prowling under the regolith out there.

The footage continued for several minutes, switching to a battle at Lion Station.

Ronin could have sworn Tadhg showed up in the replayed footage, but it was just a glimpse.

When the presentation was over, Zlaner shouted their orders. “All cadets report to the armory and then Hangar 9 for assignments. Today, your combat training begins.”

The group filed out into the same passage they had been trapped a day earlier. Blood still stained the spot where Orson had lost his lower leg.

Zlaner waited outside the entrance to the armory.

Once the other cadets were inside, he called for Ronin to stop by him.

“I know what you saw in that footage,” Zlaner said. “I could see it in your gaze. That was indeed Sergeant Tadhg Walsh. I’m aware he served with your uncle.”

Zlaner subtly checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening.

“I respected them,” he said. “Everyone in the Nova Alliance Strike Force did, but that was another time. You’re better off if you leave the past in the past.”

Ronin nodded, but that was just for show.

He would never forget his uncle or Tadhg, no matter what Zlaner said.

Ronin went inside the armory, grabbed a rifle, and marched to Hangar 9 where the rest of the cadets waited. The double-doors opened to a vast space that was once used to house mining equipment.

Four soldiers in modified Juggernaut suits stood with their backs to the cadets.

They turned as the platoon entered. All but one of the Juggernaut soldiers wore a helmet. He directed a rough face at the cadets, a smirk on his face.

“Fresh meat,” he said.

“We’re here for the next simulation,” Ortiz said.

“We’re just finishing up, LT.”

The trooper dragged the back of a gloved hand across his wrinkled brow before putting his helmet on. Then he gestured for the other three Juggernauts to follow. The giant men clanked out of the room, laughing.

Bradley moved out of the way to let the soldiers pass.

“Are those the new Engines?” he asked.

“More like assholes, if you ask me,” Ronin replied.

Zlaner continued into the chamber, waving the other cadets onward.

Ronin, Bradley, and Micky joined up again.

“Those guys are like human tanks,” Bradley said. “I heard they have Grind Shields in addition to those thick alloy plates.”

“Impressive,” Micky said.

“Impressive, but they aren’t Engines,” Ronin said. “Just soldiers in mech suits.”

He doubted it would make much of a difference against a Canebrake, but he kept the rest of his thoughts to himself to focus on the holo-training simulation.

The simulation facility was similar to the Droid Raider facilities where the ground could be transformed to resemble virtually any environment.

Zlaner stood next to Ortiz across from the cadets. The green-horns formed immaculate lines.

“This is your first firing test,” she said. “You’ll use non-lethal lasers. The simulator will calculate your score based off hits to the holo-images of Canebrakes.”

Zlaner activated the holo-port. An overlay of the lunar surface spread across the room, forming what looked like the rim of a crater.

Rising above the rim were the squid-like telescoping arms of a Canebrake. A fanned head emerged as it used the front two arms to pull itself from the crater.

The white holo-images of two more Canebrakes climbed out, standing seven feet tall, their plasma cannons rotating toward their targets.

Ortiz shouldered her rifle and opened fire. Return shots streaked toward her, but she moved fast, even with her exoskeleton, the device clanking as she strode, dove, and got up to shoot off a blast that slammed the center of the first Canebrake’s head.

Using rocks for cover, she unleashed a hailstorm of rounds at the advancing war droids. She was a hell of a shot. Each laser hit one of the monsters in the head or chest. Ronin didn’t think he saw a single stray shot.

Within seconds, two of the machines were down.

Now Ronin believed the rumors about her on E-Day.

The third and final Canebrake let loose with both plasma cannons, hitting her before she could duck back down behind the rock.

An alarm sounded and the remaining Canebrake froze.

“Nice shooting, lieutenant,” Zlaner said.

“I’ll get all three one of these days,” she replied.

Ortiz cradled her rifle and faced the cadets.

“In combat, the trooper that moves, survives,” she said. “You freeze up, and you’re dead, but before we teach you to move, you have to learn to shoot.”

“Who’s up first?” Zlaner asked.

A few of the cadets looked to Ronin but before he could raise a hand, a nasally voice said, “I’ll go.”

To the surprise of Ronin, it was Bradley.

He stepped up with his rifle.

“Run it, Sergeant,” he said.

Micky whispered, “He’s going to embarrass himself.”

“You got this,” Ronin said to encourage Bradley.

Bradley stepped up as the simulation reset. This time, the holo-images formed a hallway about five hundred feet long. It resembled one of the passages beneath Kepler Station, not much different than the one they had been trapped inside.

A blue box bloomed in the middle of the hallway. Bradley walked over to it and stopped.

The hatches at the end of the hallway both opened, disgorging a Canebrake at both sides.

Chirping kicked off the simulation and both Canebrakes charged.

“Holy shit!” Bradley shouted.

He went down on a knee, firing at the machine on his left. The shots slammed into the Canebrake while it prepared to fire two segmented arms.

The lasers hit both of those arms, disabling them.

He turned and fired a burst at the machine behind him, forcing it down. Then he turned back to the original machine, hammering it with fire. It launched a maelstrom of rounds from its plasma cannons, but Bradley slid under the spray.

He fired another salvo that hit it right in the face. The hologram collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“Damn,” Micky said.

“Nice!” Ronin called out.

Bradley turned toward the other Canebrake. It was closing in, already fifty feet away.

Its arms churned out toward Bradley, then ripped into him, the holo-graphic blades coming out his back.

An alarm chirped.

The cadets watched Bradley walk back to their ranks.

Ronin nodded at his friend. “Great job.”

Bradley smiled ear to ear.

“Don’t get cocky,” Zlaner said. “Next time, those machines might not be holograms.”

— 9 —

“Welcome home,” Akira whispered.

His helmet broke through the choppy water of Sagamai Bay just after two in the morning. Hours spent in the cramped submersible had given him plenty of time to think of what awaited him.

He rose halfway out of the water with his plasma rifle pressed against his shoulder pad. Waves crashed against the rocky shore and slapped against his body.

To the west, he could see Mount Fuji in the moonlight. He turned to the northeast. Before E-Day, he would have been able to see Megacity Tokyo and its three famous glass towers shaped like swords. But the once magnificent metropolis was nothing but a memory now.

Akira took a moment to take stock of his gear.

In the armored carrier on his right leg was the tech kit. That kit contained the power source to restore the systems at the Life Ark, a comm-pad with a coded infiltration unit to bring Apeiron online, and a nano-drive to extract the AI. Juno had explained the state of the art tech before he left. She had also installed the same equipment the deep-sea droids used for ground penetrating radar on Akira’s power armor.

He did a systems check to make sure everything was working. Green lights came back on each of the tests. He had everything he needed to accomplish his mission except for his comrades.

But Akira wasn’t exactly alone.

Okami was hunting through the destruction a mile away, and the droid horse was still underwater, waiting for Akira’s command.

After seeing Juno’s attempt to camouflage the droids in Osaka fail, he wasn’t completely confident that his animal companions would be undetectable either. Maybe the deep-sea droids had only been discovered because they’d been like Icarus, coming too close to the sun—or in this case, the machines’ hive.

Either way, Akira wanted to minimize his risks.

The two droids they had deployed still hadn’t picked up any machine activity in the crater but Akira wasn’t yet convinced the enemy had really abandoned Megacity Tokyo.

For ten minutes, he stood still like a statue in the surf until Okami returned.

Using his wrist computer, Akira called for Kichiro. The metallic horse rose out of the water behind him, eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Okay, my old friend,” he said. “Let’s find Apeiron.”

Akira climbed up into the saddle, and the horse started across the beach. A flattened fishing village lay across the shoreline. Beyond, portions of the fifty-story wall that had once surrounded the megacity were still standing, like random teeth on a rotting jaw. It was a relic of human engineering, and another reminder of what the machines had built before they had erased the city and the rich history within it.

Including places like Edo Castle.

Akira’s thoughts turned to his brother and son who had been laid to rest there. A deep-seated regret filled him before he pushed it aside. No amount of sorrow for their deaths would bring them back—and it certainly wouldn’t help him find Apeiron.

Focusing on anything other than that goal could also get him killed.

Akira gripped his rifle as Kichiro trotted across a street. The skeletal remains of Hummer Droids lay on the sidewalks, their skinny limbs twisted and sticking up into the air.

A human skeleton was plastered against a broken brick wall. Its arm was held up over its face, fused into place by ragged tissue and melted sinew.

Kichiro passed a destroyed home. Inside, charcoaled bodies lay crumpled in a tangle of limbs. Akira guided his horse into a drainage ditch. They followed it all the way to the remnants of the megacity wall.

Not long after, Okami burst from around a hunk of rubble, tail up, and wagging.

The way was clear.

Akira rode Kichiro around the massive, bulging concrete slabs. The gate that once sealed off the road was gone, but a mound of debris blocked the entrance.

A second gate halfway up was also blown outward, and the tracks for an electric bullet train hung out of the gate, mangled like twisted wires. The burned carcass of a train lay draped over the top of two adjacent buildings, the connected cars sprawled over their roofs.

Akira directed Kichiro toward the debris clogging the former grand entrance to the city. After a short search, Okami discovered a way through in a narrow tunnel.

Bending down in the saddle, Akira ducked under twisted rebar protruding from the concrete walls. It took them a few minutes to navigate the dangerous debris, but when they reached the other side, Akira finally saw the crater rim.

He checked his HUD map for the location of the two modified deep-sea droids. They were only about a mile away, focusing on a gaping hole in the ground.

Had they found an entrance to the Life Ark?

Or what was left of it… Akira thought.

He didn’t understand how the bunker could have survived a direct hit from the Poseidon Cannon. They were designed to shelter people from the aftermath of Hros-1, in a worst-case situation, but this… this went far beyond anything Achilles Android Systems and Doctor Jason Crichton had planned for.

Okami darted to the pinnacle of the debris around the crater. A few minutes later, Kichiro climbed up after him and mounted the top.

From the saddle, Akira took in the view, holding his breath.

The sight only reinforced his suspicion that the Life Ark couldn’t have survived the cannon blast.

The riven wound in the heart of his childhood home stretched as far as he could see. Millions of souls had been obliterated on E-Day.

I will avenge you all so you may find peace, he thought.

Kichiro started across the crater rim, crushing brittle rocks under the weight of his metal hooves. When Akira looked down, he realized these weren’t just rocks.

These were bones. Human bones.

Each one made Akira wince, but the horse couldn’t avoid them. The remains were everywhere.

They started down the other side, and he quickly noticed there weren’t any bones down here. He realized most of them were probably pulverized by the cannon.

Okami sniffed the ground, leading the way.

As they pushed on, Akira noticed something that looked out of place in the black bowl of destruction. He whistled for Kichiro to stop.

Using his rifle scope, he zoomed in on a Praying Mantis wing sticking out of the crater slope. A quick scan uncovered three enemy fighters throughout the blackened terrain about two thousand feet from their location.

The remains of a King Cobra spaceplane wasn’t far, partially buried in the dirt.

He looked for any evidence of Canebrakes with his infrared optics, but the crater was cold and still. The wreckage of the enemy fighters and the King Cobra revealed no smoldering heat signatures. It was clear this battle must have occurred on or shortly after E-Day.

Akira began the perilous descent into the crater with his two animal droids. He activated the ground-penetrating radar on the way down, the map showing up on his HUD next to the mirrored view from the two deep-sea diving droids.

One droid was descending into a hole at the bottom of the crater, about two miles from his position. The other machine had continued on to keep searching.

Megacity Tokyo—or the crater that had been Tokyo—was such a massive area to cover, finding the Life Ark would be difficult, even with their scanners.

Okami went ahead, leaping from chunks of burned rock to charcoaled slabs.

Hundreds of small fires still burned at the bottom of the crater. As they went deeper, the smoke grew stronger and thicker, making it difficult to see.

Both deep-sea diving droids were in their natural habitat down here, but Akira was starting to grow nervous. The terrain was dangerous and unpredictable. He feared sinkholes or collapsing structures almost as much as the machines.

When Kichiro reached the downed King Cobra, Akira pulled on the reins. He dismounted, and his boots sank into the ash blanketed ground.

Gashes lined the cracked glass of the cockpit like something with dozens of sharp blades had tried to prop it open.

He moved to the other side of the cockpit, finding the glass shattered there.

Bending down, he looked inside. A blood-stained seat had been nearly torn to pieces.

Okami growled right before Akira heard a rustling noise.

He spun and aimed at a white heat signature that had risen out of the ground like the dead from a grave. But this was no reanimated corpse—this was a human wearing tattered pants, a trench-coat, and tennis shoes with holes in the sides.

A gas mask hung around the back of his neck with a tube snaking back to a small oxygen tank on his belt. In his hand, he held a phased plasma pulse pistol, but it wasn’t aimed at Akira. It was pointed straight at Okami.

Kichiro let out a neigh and kicked his back feet up into the air as two more figures flanked the horse with plasma rifles. Akira had seconds to decide on whether to kill these three men when an invisible charge sizzled through the air, shutting off his HUD.

Both Okami and Kichiro slumped to the ground.

EMP blast, Akira thought.

He could see just enough with the moonlight to know these three men weren’t wearing the armor of a Piston or a Coalition fighter.

These were raiders. Thieves.

“Drop your weapon,” said the one with the gas mask. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

The two men that had flanked him uncoiled cables as they approached Kichiro and Okami.

“Touch them and you die,” Akira said.

One of the raiders laughed. “Who said anything about touching them? We’re going to gut them and use their parts.”

Akira clenched his jaw in anger. He considered his next move, but his options were limited with three plasma rifles all aimed at him.

“Drop the gun or I’m going to waste you, asshole,” said the man with the gas mask. He came closer, the pistol pointed right at Akira’s visor.

Akira slowly lowered his rifle to the ground. Then he stood, his hands in the air.

“Good,” said the raider with a stocking cap. He had a calm and reasonable voice. “If you came for the pilot, you’re too late.”

“I didn’t come for the pilot,” Akira said. “I came to find a Life Ark.”

“The hell is a Life Ark?” asked the man with the gas mask.

The thief with the calmer voice walked away from Kichiro. Moonlight illuminated the upper half of a gray beard and dark brown eyes.

“You’re an Engine, aren’t ya?” he asked.

In his peripheral, Akira could see the third man standing over Kichiro with the uncoiled cables, but he had turned to look in the other direction. The raider with the gas mask jerked his pistol barrel at Kichiro.

“Make sure you tie those legs up really good,” he said.

They had gotten the drop on Akira, but now he had them.

He seized on the moment and pulled out one of his swords, slicing through the pistol held by the man with the gas mask.

The barrel dropped to the ground, the raider still holding the grip. Akira punched him in the center of the gas mask with his free hand and then yanked the rifle from the other man before he could fire off a shot.

In another second, he had that barrel aimed at the wannabee thief standing over Kichiro, and the blade of his sword against the neck of the man with the stocking cap.

The raider with the gas mask had collapsed, unconscious from the blow.

“Definitely an Engine,” said the guy who had a blade to his neck.

“Put the rifle down and step away from my horse or I’ll waste you,” Akira said to the man next to Kichiro, his rifle now aimed at Akira.

“Want me to activate the energy blade?” Akira asked.

“No, shit, no,” said the hostage. “Do as he says.”

The rifleman near Kichiro shook his head. “I drop this, and we’re all dead.”

“No, you have my word I will spare you if you listen to me,” Akira said.

“The word of the Nova Alliance isn’t worth much here, not before the war, not now,” said the prisoner.

“Guess you have to take your chances,” Akira replied.

“Do it before the Condas come back.”

The raider with the rifle finally dropped it to the ground.

Akira pushed his hostage away but kept the rifle up. He cautiously walked over to Kichiro and then to Okami.

The last thing he had expected was to run into humans that threatened his companions. The EMP wouldn’t have fried their systems, but it would be a few minutes before their CPUs restarted. And time out here was precious.

“How many of you are there?” Akira asked.

The two men said nothing.

“Where are the rest of you hiding?”

Still, nothing.

His HUD came back online, and Akira searched for more heat signatures. That was when he noticed something was wrong.

The two feeds from the deep-sea droids were offline.

But that couldn’t be from the EMP. They were too far away.

“I know there are more of you,” Akira said. “I have two more droids out here that just went offline. Both of them are modified Hummer Worker Droids.”

The guy he had knocked out was stirring on the ground. Akira put a boot on his back.

“I’m not going to ask again,” Akira said. “How many are there?”

“It’s just the three of us,” said the man with the stocking cap. “We saw you and your animal droids, and planted a trap, thinking you came for the King Cobra. We didn’t attack the worker droids.”

If what they were saying was true, then something else had taken out the deep-sea diving droids.

“Who took the pilot?” Akira growled.

“The Condas. Unless you want to meet one of ’em, I suggest you let us go and get the hell out of here.”

Kichiro suddenly rose to his feet, letting out a whinny.

The two men both backed away from the droid. Okami hopped up next with a deep growl.

Akira whistled at them both to stand down.

Almost as if in answer, a rattling echoed in the distance.

Both men turned toward it, backing away.

Akira listened another moment, but this rattling was different from the noise the Canebrakes made. This was more of a clicking.

“The Condas,” said the leader. “We have to get out of here.”

The other guy went to pick up a rifle.

“Don’t,” Akira warned.

The man hesitated, then looked out over the wastes. “You leave us out here without weapons, and we’re as good as dead.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Akira said. “You’re going to show me where you’re hiding.”

The injured man finally started to stand. Akira gestured for him to join his comrades, then rounded up the men’s weapons and strapped them to Kichiro’s back.

“Go on,” Akira said. “Get moving.”

The two raiders helped their friend as Okami circled them, watching their every move.

“You may be an Engine, but out here, you’re prey,” said the leader. “Just like the rest of us.”

***

Cyrus and Tadhg had returned to the miner base covered in moon dust. They didn’t say a word when they entered the habitat.

Everyone knew what that meant, especially Chloe.

No one at Atlas Station was alive.

As she worked on the parts they had scavenged, burning anger rose inside her. She tried to focus on installing the new motor to complete one of the arms for Tadhg, but the flames spread.

How could the LDC be so evil?

It wasn’t just the LDC either.

Apeiron was right when she said humanity was a violent, cruel species.

Chloe pounded the workstation, drawing Tadhg’s attention. He stopped outside the open hatch in the main control room.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. “Just close that door, please.”

Before Tadhg could, her uncle walked inside the room. He gently shut it and crossed over to her workstation.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“It’s okay if you’re not fine, though, Chloe.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she broke under his touch. She lowered her eyes as tears streamed out.

No, don’t do that, Chloe!

Now was the time for strength, not weakness.

“It’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling,” Keanu said. “Rage, sadness, fear.”

“I just don’t understand…” she started to say.

“Chloe… sweetheart.”

Keanu spun the stool she sat on so they were face-to-face, but she couldn’t look him in the eye. She felt shame and guilt for leaving Giana and the others to die at Atlas Station.

“You always were the kindest child before the war, and even during the occupation, you never lost that side of you,” he said. “I believe, in my heart, this is why Apeiron selected you.”

She looked up, meeting his gaze.

“Yes, she picked you because you’re special,” he continued. “You have always been special and always will be.”

“Thank you, but—”

The door cracked open.

Cyrus stepped inside.

“What’s wrong?” Keanu asked.

“One of our scouts just spotted a King Cobra,” he said. “It flew over Shoemaker a few times and then vanished in the crater.”

“Do you think they know Tadhg and you were there?” Chloe asked.

Cyrus shook his head. “I don’t think so, but it reinforces that we need to get the hell out of here. How much longer?”

“A few more hours at least before I’m even to the point where I can get the skull cap ready for Tadhg.”

“Okay, just focus. We’re going to be fine.”

Fine… Chloe thought.

Keanu patted her back and walked away.

“You can do this,” he said before closing the door.

She nodded, putting everything out of her mind. Her parents, Giana… everyone she had lost was gone. There was no bringing them back.

But she could still help the living.

She opened a drawer at her work station and looked at the case containing the virus Doctor Jason Crichton had given her before his death. The micro-drive had the power to destroy Otto and all of his machines.

Chloe just had to get it to Apeiron.

That is why she picked you.

Keanu’s words replayed over and over in her mind as she got back to work.

It wasn’t long before she finished installing the new motor on one of the arms. She tested it with her electric screwdriver.

The fingers moved.

Next, she went to work on the shoulder unit.

Sweat dripped down her brow as she focused.

An hour later, and both arms were done.

Next, she began the connection to the shoulder plates that made up part of Tadhg’s power armor. It had been a painstakingly slow process, requiring a network of tiny conduits to allow wiring to connect with the suit.

When she finished, she put on her face shield and began welding the parts together. Sparks sizzled against the visor as she slowly began to merge the arms with his armor.

But now was the hard part.

She took a drink of water, and then called out for the others. Tadhg, Cyrus, and Keanu joined her.

“Okay, I think I got it,” she said. “Tadhg.”

The Engine lumbered over to her dressed in his armor.

“I’m going to need your help, Cyrus,” she said.

Cyrus picked up the left arm and shoulder plate, holding it into place as Chloe welded it to the rest of Tadhg’s armor. When they finished with the left, they added the right.

The two bulky Hummer Droid arms hung limply from the Engine armor.

Tadhg looked down at them in turn.

“We still have to hook them up,” Chloe said. “Have a seat.”

He slumped into the chair next to the workstation.

Chloe opened a plastic crate that contained the most important part: a skull cap that would allow Tadhg to control the arms.

She carefully fitted the cap over his matted, thick curly hair.

“We might need to do something about this,” she said.

“About what?” Tadhg asked.

“Your hair,” Chloe said.

“What about it?”

“We need to shave it off.”

“Hell no!”

Chloe heaved a breath.

“Tadhg, we don’t have time to argue,” Keanu said.

Chloe held up a handful of electrical wires that looked like a dead black octopus. “I’ve got to connect these to your head, and that mop of curls is going to obstruct it.”

Tadhg grumbled out a blue streak of curse words.

“Do you want arms or not?” Chloe asked.

“Fine,” Tadhg huffed. “Do it.”

He cursed the entire time, wincing as the locks fell to the ground.

Ten minutes later, a halo of curls surrounded him on the floor.

Chloe slowly placed the cap over his shaved head, then began connecting the wires to the ports in his suit.

Raised voices drew her attention from the wires to the control room. Two rebel troopers were talking.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’ll go check,” Cyrus said, heading out. Keanu followed.

“Hurry up,” Tadhg said. He kept fidgeting and grumbling.

“It’d be a lot easier if you had a little more patience,” Chloe said.

Alone with Tadhg, Chloe’s mind wandered to the man’s journey with Cyrus to Atlas Station.

“Cyrus isn’t going to tell me what you two found at Atlas,” she whispered. Her thoughts swirled to all the people she’d been imprisoned with there. “But I need to know.”

Tadhg glanced up at her. “Not my place to say.”

“Look, maybe you and Cyrus think you’re protecting me by not saying anything. But I don’t need two white knights that think they know what’s best for me.”

“I’m not trying to do anything,” Tadhg said. “Cyrus said…”

“I don’t care what Cyrus said. I lived with those people. Some of them were my friends. I need to know.”

She folded her arms over her chest, letting the remaining wires dangle.

Tadhg let out a sigh. “Really, I—”

A voice came from the doorway before he could continue.

“We found the hybrids,” Cyrus said. “Most of them were in a hangar. They died together.”

“How?” Chloe asked.

“Maybe Thacker tricked them with the promise of an evac, but killed them instead.” Cyrus shook his head. “No one… No one survived, Chloe. I’m sorry.”

A flare of anger burned in Chloe’s gut. “Did you find Giana?”

Cyrus said nothing.

He didn’t have to.

“Thacker… that piece of…” She wanted to cry and scream and curse.

But that wouldn’t do anything to bring back Giana or the others.

Instead, she focused on what would.

She continued working on Tadhg’s cap with newfound determination. Then she stepped back to check her work.

“Okay, it’s online. All you have to do is start trying to move them,” Chloe said.

Tadhg stood from the chair and lifted the left arm. It jerked, and then trembled, fingers curling in fits.

“It will take some getting used to, but it looks functional,” Chloe said. “How does it feel?”

Tadhg curled the fingers in and out, slowly controlling the shaking. Then he raised the right arm and hand.

“Feels like I got some catching up to do,” he said, watching his fingers clench into fists.

“Step one is done,” Cyrus said. “You have your new arms. Now we need you to pass as an LDC Trooper, bust Captain Harback out of prison, and steal a MOTH.”

“Don’t worry, my friend.” Tadhg smiled. “That’s the easy part.”

— 10 —

A Praying Mantis fighter streaked over the island, the thrusters burning blue in the night.

Jackson and Tumea both got down on their bellies in the mud. Three hours had passed since the repaired machine began moving on the other side of the mountain where the shuttle was located.

Judging by the tremors under their bodies, it was getting closer to discovering the ship, and the survivors there.

Tumea began to crawl. Jackson did the same, not stopping until they had enough cover to stand again. They got back up and continued the hike through the jungle.

Branches and leaves struck his new armor as he climbed up a hill. He tried not to think about who the armor had belonged to before him. But it was hard not to think of the now dead Coalition Breaker that once wore it.

They didn’t exactly have armor suited for Engines in the mountain armory, so he was forced to go with one big enough for his body.

Since he had left his own equipment behind, he’d had the option of facing the machines virtually naked or putting on armor from his old enemies. He’d chosen the latter, and even though it made logical sense, he didn’t like it.

Spikes protruded off his shoulder plates and elbow pads. Antlers rose off the armet he wore to protect his face.

He also carried enough explosives to blow up the superstructure.

At least, that was the plan, if he could get close enough.

But that was unlikely. Plan B was to distract the machine and draw it away from the shuttle.

Tumea had climbing equipment and a bandolier of flares to do just that.

They were nearing the peak of the mountain now, where they hoped to finally get a clear view of the superstructure.

Tumea stopped in front of a bluff that rose fifty feet up. Moss clung to the sides, and vines hung down.

She motioned for him to help her up.

After slinging his rifle, he cupped his hands to give her a boost. She was heavier than she looked, but he still picked her up and raised her into the air. He held her steady until she leapt off and grabbed a handhold.

From there, she climbed all the way to the top, where she vanished.

Jackson waited for a few long seconds, enough he started to worry until a rope uncoiled down, whipping around in front of him. He snatched it, then started scaling the rock.

Wind rushed against his body as he pulled himself toward the ledge above. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he saw how far they had already advanced. It was over a thousand feet to the beach below.

When he finally got to the ledge, he saw only sparse vegetation growing on the rocky ground. Tumea was nowhere in sight. He unstrapped his rifle and began to cross the sixty-foot-wide ledge with views of Ha Long Bay to the west.

The moon hung high in the smoky sky, penetrating it with ghostly rays.

“Down, down,” came a voice.

Jackson spotted Tumea hiding in a cluster of rocks overlooking the western side of the mountain. He hurried over to her and took a knee.

The vantage provided a clear view of the jungle and the gargantuan superstructure. Red beams flitted back and forth from the repaired turrets on the command center.

Tumea held up a pair of night vision optics to her helmet. She lowered them for a moment, pointing at the jungle in front of the machine.

Jackson squinted, picking up movement. A pack of three Canebrakes darted across the ground, scrambling over the slick, rocky terrain.

Jackson didn’t see any of the Hummer Worker Droids that had repaired the superstructure. Maybe with their job done, a transport had picked them up.

Tumea tapped Jackson on his shoulder plate, then motioned for him to follow. They crouch-walked, using the rocks for cover to another lookout.

This time, she pointed toward a sea of dense treetops. Jagged rocks formed a boundary around the perimeter.

Jackson knew exactly what was under there.

The shuttle.

While there were no more Praying Mantis fighters in sight, launching the shuttle now would be a disaster with the superstructure nearby.

The ground rumbled, shaking the grit and rocks beside his boots.

They returned to the outcropping where they watched the machine continue its trek. The legs crushed trees, snapping through them with ease and leaving a path of destruction.

The red beams continued to flit back and forth, this time upward toward their position.

Jackson and Tumea hunkered back down.

To his surprise, she pulled out a small leather book and opened it.

What’s the plan? she wrote.

Smart, Jackson thought.

Slowly, he snuck a glance through the gap in the rocks.

The Canebrakes continued to advance, but he wasn’t worried about the pack. Boar and his warriors could handle them.

It was the superstructure they had to stop.

Jackson reached behind his back and unslung the pack. Carefully, he opened a small crate inside, revealing the eight grenade-sized explosives. But these were not grenades—these were far more powerful. Placed carefully, each could disable a leg of the lumbering tower.

If Jackson could manage to get to that control center, he could potentially destroy the entire machine. But without his jetpack, he wasn’t sure how he would make it that far.

Tumea wrote something else on the pad and held it to him.

The craziest idea is the one that will work, it read.

Jackson couldn’t help but grin.

She pulled out a flare and then wrote, I will use these to lure the Canebrakes and distract the machine. You plant the explosives.

They were both equally dangerous jobs that would more than likely result in their deaths. But Jackson had prepared to die the moment he stayed behind to fight this superstructure.

Now he really had the chance to stop it and save people.

Even if they were Coalition.

Tumea appeared just as ready to die for this mission too.

It was odd, but in that moment, he felt like how he used to with his fellow Engines on the Fire Snakes. A comradery that only battle could inspire.

She wrote something else.

See you in hell.

Jackson took the pad from her.

Good luck, he wrote.

She lifted up her helmet and winked with a shit-eating grin. Then she was gone, taking off with the flares.

Jackson huddled behind the rocks. He pulled out the charges, sticking four on each arm.

Rattling sounded over the clanking of mechanical joints.

The Canebrakes exploded out of the jungle below, wailing their electronic voices.

Jackson took another look over the edge, seeing five of the machines now skittering up the cliff. Dozens of bluffs and outcroppings separated his position from the enemy, but they would find him eventually. He had to move.

Not far behind the machines, the superstructure was reaching up with the front two of its six arms, preparing to climb the side of the mountain.

About six hundred feet to his right, Tumea began rappelling down.

She was looking up in his direction. With a nod, she fired a flare. The brilliant red glow streaked over the jungle, then burst over the bay where the fisherman had been captured.

Jackson looked over the edge, seeing the Canebrakes had all halted mid-climb. Their fanned heads tilted back and forth, searching for the source of the flare.

Tumea was already rappelling down to the next bluff.

As she moved, she fired another flare, this time into the trees. It burst against the ground, spreading a red glow through the jungle.

The rattling shook through the trees again, and all at once, the Canebrakes clambered back down toward the ground. The superstructure command center roved upward, the red beams slashing through the darkness toward the rocks where Tumea had rappelled from.

She was under the cover of the leaves now, but Jackson could see her heat signature.

If he could, then so could the machines.

He had to make this fast.

Jackson took the other rope and began to rappel down toward the bluff while the superstructure retreated into the jungle. The command center was rotating, firing beams into the treetops.

He cursed when he realized the rope wasn’t long enough. The next ledge was only ten feet below. He jumped down, his augmented bones and muscles absorbing the impact.

When he looked over the edge, he realized he might have stranded himself.

The jungle floor was another fifty feet below.

He searched for a way down, relieved to see a narrow path of rock that led to scree at the base of the mountain. He jumped another twelve feet, this time rolling after hitting the rock.

The chatter of plasma gunfire came from the trees. Bolts lanced through the darkness. Those Canebrakes would be on Tumea soon.

Jackson didn’t waste another second. He navigated the path at a rapid clip, snapping through tree branches and vines. When he hit rocks, his boots slid on the wet surface.

He slipped, slid, and then fell on his side, clanking as he tumbled over the loose rocks. A boulder stopped him with a thud. Red burst across his vision.

It took a moment for it to clear, but when he could see straight again, the superstructure had turned away from the jungle, seemingly uninterested now, its massive joints groaning.

Jackson pushed himself up and ran toward the trees, looking up in horror as one of the front legs came down right overhead.

He dove to the ground. Then he rolled and rolled again, his body getting stuck in the mud.

Jackson held up his hands as a massive foot the size of a tank crushed a tree on its way down. He closed his eyes, unable to watch.

The ground seemed to sink around him.

He opened his eyes as that foot rose back up into the air.

I’m still alive.

Jackson stood again, his armor caked in mud. He immediately started running after the leg.

When it came down again, he would make his move.

He watched the foot, trying to perfect his timing. He reached for one of the charges on his arm, heart thumping when he saw he had lost three of the eight.

Fuckin-A!

He plucked off a charge and tossed it at the metal leg, an easy target, considering it was as wide as a building.

With the first explosive attached, he took off for the other back leg, another three hundred feet to his left. While the structure had appeared to move slowly when they had looked down on it, the legs moved far faster than he could.

He prepared the second charge in his hand as the foot came down, a quake shaking the ground.

The leg lifted up again, and he darted ahead, leaping over a crushed log. Another downed tree was just ahead. This time when he jumped, he tossed the charge at the leg. It stuck to the side with a satisfying clunk.

Jackson’s lungs burned from the effort of his continued sprint. He was directly under the tower now. The bottom was nothing but ribbed metal platforms, but there was a crevice bleeding light from the main body, illuminating an interior that he couldn’t quite see.

The middle legs came crashing down on his flanks. This time, they didn’t move right away, as the front two legs were reaching up toward the mountain.

This was his chance.

Plasma gunfire erupted again in the distance, the staccato blasts hissing over the clanking mechanical joints. In the respite came a rattling of what had to be new orders between the Canebrakes.

Had Tumea been killed?

Jackson kept running and delivered both explosives on the middle legs within two minutes. The front legs chiseled into the rock, preparing to climb.

With only one explosive left, Jackson decided to go for the control center. But to do that, he was going to have to climb.

First, he needed to make sure this bastard couldn’t walk.

Jackson searched for a place to detonate the explosives without ending up a ball of flaming gore himself. It didn’t take long before he found a cave entrance.

He ran inside and hid behind the rocks. Then he pulled out the remote that controlled the charges. He selected the four he had thrown, then flipped the switches.

“Try walking now, you metal prick!” Jackson yelled.

His voice was drowned out by a massive concussive blast. The cave shook from the distant impacts, and gravel trickled down.

Hope you made it out, Tumea, Jackson thought.

Moving out from cover, he could see fissures in the glowing red legs of the superstructure.

The mangled legs began to give way. With a terrifying screech of protesting metal, the giant machine collapsed into the jungle with a thunderous clap that sent a tsunami of mud and debris flying in every direction. The ground shook as if Hros-1 had hit.

Ears ringing, he steadied himself as the dust settled. Slowly, he stumbled forward, eyes on the superstructure. It reached up with the front arms, flailing in the air like a crab flipped onto its back.

Jackson searched for a way up the mountain. If he could get above the machine, he could deliver the other explosive right where it mattered most.

Groaning metal screeched across the jungle as the machine struggled to get up.

This time, Jackson didn’t slip going up the rocks he’d fallen down earlier. He managed to get all the way up to a bluff.

When he looked back to the superstructure, those menacing red beams darted through the night like search lights. One of those beams hit the wall of rock below him.

He pulled himself up to another bluff and rolled away, flattening his body against the rough ground. After the beam passed, he crawled over to the edge, glancing directly down on the control tower. Dark, cracked glass windows framed the side.

To his shock, behind one, he saw a figure.

Not a Canebrake, or a droid.

This was a man wearing a black mask connected to ribbed tubes.

The highly modified soldier was one of the Dreads.

Jackson smiled again and said, “Surprise, mother fucker.”

He threw the last explosive right at the window. It stuck to the metal hull about ten feet from the command viewports. The Dread inside tilted his masked face before pointing at Jackson.

Reaching over his back, Jackson pulled out the energy cutlass from the Coalition armory. He raised it as the red blade warmed in his hands.

Days ago, he had stood on the beach looking up at this very machine with his precious axe he was forced to leave behind. The abomination had towered over him, so tall it didn’t even seem to notice him.

“Now I’m standing above you,” he whispered.

Jackson held the cutlass in one hand, and the manual detonator in the other. The control center began to rotate, lifting upward. More Dreads appeared behind the viewports, pointing at Jackson.

The tractor beam and laser turrets twisted his direction, the barrels warming.

“Too late, assholes.” He smiled as he flipped the switch.

The explosion roared in a brilliant orange ball, the force knocking him backward. He fought against the pressure wave to get back to the edge just as flames tore out from the command center.

Mangled turret barrels hung limply, and volleys of fire continued to vent out of the missing viewport windows.

Jackson raised the cutlass above his head, letting out a cry of victory.

He did it! He really did it!

The flames died down, smoke churning out of a gaping hole in the side of the structure.

Jackson looked back over the jungle, wondering if Tumea had survived. He listened for Canebrakes, but only heard the groans and cracks of the dying superstructure.

The machine looked like a pre-historic monster from this angle. Spikey apparatuses the size of small towers protruded off its back. Slots where Praying Mantis fighters had docked were all open, leaving grooves like sunken skin around sharp ribs.

The beast struggled to stay up on the two front legs, before finally collapsing again to the ground, sending plumes of dust and debris into the sky.

The heavy smoke was whisked away by a hot wind, revealing the control hub of the machine.

Jackson lowered his blade when he saw something moving among the wreckage of the command center.

“No, it can’t be,” he muttered.

Someone…

No, something, had survived.

Red eyes glowed in the skull of a black Hummer Worker Droid. It stood in one of the missing windows, an arm hanging by nothing but sinews of metal.

Jackson prepared to jump down and deal with this final war machine. It was just a worker unit. An easy kill.

Before he could leap from his perch, a high-pitched buzz like a swarm of cicadas broke through the crackle of the dying flames. The noise wasn’t coming from the ground or jungle.

Jackson searched the sky, noticing a small red light that started getting brighter.

A Hunter Ship roared toward him, just like the one that had captured the fisherman.

Jackson ran for a ledge to begin his descent, but he doubted there was time. The worker droid or maybe the Dreads must have called the ship down. The ship knew exactly where he was.

He slotted the cutlass over his back, held a breath, and turned toward the bluff. Jumping was the only way down to the cover of the jungle in time. Maybe, just maybe, if he could land in the dense leaves and branches, it would break his fall.

With a running head start, he leapt off the ledge, sailing over the smoke-choked trees and disabled machine.

He kicked as he fell, but before he hit the canopy, he froze in the air. A bright red glow enveloped him.

The tractor beam had captured him.

Paralyzed, he was forced to look down as the beam lowered him through the smoke toward the downed superstructure. Where the spine of an animal would have been, two thick alloy doors the size of tanks opened to devour him.

Jackson descended into the depths of the tower, finally getting a look at the contents for the first time. He wasn’t sure what he had expected.

But he certainly didn’t expect to see human prisoners trapped inside gray pods like eggs lining the interior walls.

Prisoners. All of them. And now he, too, was one.

— 11 —

Almost six hours into the mission, Akira was sitting on a supply crate somewhere deep under the crater of Megacity Tokyo. Kichiro and Okami were standing behind him, watching the three raiders that had ambushed them.

The person that had been wearing the gas mask turned out to not be a man after all, but rather a girl named Hina. The gas mask hung around her neck as she held a rag up to her busted nose to soak up the blood.

Akira felt sympathy for her despite what she had done. She was just trying to survive out here with her comrades. For that reason, he decided not to think of them as raiders, but rather potential allies.

Their leader, Eiji, had taken off his stocking cap and was rubbing his bald head. The third guy, who had tried to tie up Kichiro and Okami, was a middle-aged man named Lee. All three of them watched Akira suspiciously as they ate the energy bars he had brought. He figured a peace offering wasn’t a bad thing.

He wasn’t sure how they had survived, but it gave him hope that there were more like them, especially this close to the crater.

Although he doubted they lived anywhere close.

Akira had considered sending Okami out to recon the tunnels but didn’t want to get separated in the underground labyrinth.

“You ready?” Akira asked. “We should keep moving.”

Eiji stuffed the rest of his energy bar into his torn jacket. Then he pulled out his flashlight and directed it down the passage. Most of the earthen corridors seemed to have been made post E-Day. They were plenty big enough for Kichiro, who walked behind the group.

Okami went over to the wall and sniffed at a black sappy material. He let out a whine, and then turned away, running ahead.

The tunnel ended at a collapsed wall that provided only a narrow passage into a subway.

“Stay here,” Eiji said. He pushed night vision goggles over his eyes, looked through the hole, then hopped through.

As soon as he was gone, Hina turned to Akira.

“You came to find a Life Ark?” she asked.

Akira nodded.

“Why? Are there people there? Other survivors like us?”

“Maybe.”

“Of course there are,” grunted Lee. “But we’re from outside the walls, which means we don’t matter.”

“So you came to save the other people?” Hina asked. “What about our people?”

“Our people aren’t valuable. This guy didn’t care about us before E-Day, what makes you think he would now?”

The words stung Akira, but they were true in a way. The Nova Alliance usually didn’t bother to help people outside the walls. Most were Coalition allies.

But part of Akira’s ethos was to protect civilians, no matter where they came from.

“I’ll do what I can to help you all,” Akira said. “You have my word.”

The tap of footsteps echoed through the tunnel. Eiji must have been headed back.

“I don’t trust him for shit,” Lee mumbled to Hina.

Akira ignored them and walked up to the crumbled wall to scan the subway. Four idle train cars lay on tracks framed by platforms littered with dead bodies.

A slight vibration tremored through the ground and up into Akira’s limbs. It was so faint that no one else seemed to notice.

Eiji reemerged further down the subway tunnel, waving.

“Follow me,” he said.

“Go,” Hina said.

She and Lee squeezed past Akira onto the tracks. He jumped out after them, and then motioned for Kichiro. The horse scraped his sides against the crumbled wall, barely squeezing through.

Another rumble vibrated across the tracks as if a train was coming.

Okami growled.

“Hey, I feel something,” Akira said.

Eiji stopped. “What do you mean?”

“A vibration.”

Hina and Lee were already moving before Eiji waved them onward.

It was obvious they knew what was making the weak quakes, and now was not the time to stop and discuss it.

Eiji led them into another opening that seemed wide enough for Kichiro.

Akira kept his rifle up as they entered the darkness of another passage with walls of damp soil. Not far down, he saw it connected to a large underground chamber. It looked to be the basement of an old building. In the middle of the room, a sinkhole had devoured part of the floor. There was no way around the chasm, and Akira couldn’t quite see how deep it was.

Eiji ran and jumped over it, landing on the other side and continuing on. Lee went next.

For Akira, it was an easy jump, but Hina hit the edge and began to cartwheel her arms, tilting backward into the abyss. Akira snagged her before she could fall into the dark hole.

“Thanks,” she said.

Kichiro and Okami both leapt across next. Kichiro landed heavily, his hooves sending out a quake of their own.

As if in answer, another large tremor shook the room. Dust and grit rained from the ceiling, and the cracked concrete walls shook.

“We must move faster,” Eiji said.

On the way across the room to another door, Akira heard what sounded like human screams.

“Hey, wait, there are more people out there,” he said.

Eiji was already leading the way down into a stairwell.

“Those aren’t people,” Hina said.

“I heard screaming.”

“They aren’t people.”

“Then what is it?”

“Monsters,” Hina replied in Japanese.

The screaming rose into a jarring chorus…

Kichiro ducked into the stairwell, scraping the narrow walls. The same tar-like substance Akira had seen in the other tunnels stuck to the concrete, clinging like glue.

The group began running down the stairs. Akira followed Kichiro closely, looking back up the stairs as the screams chased them.

The stairs ended at a T-intersection in the corridor. Eiji darted to the left. When Akira reached the T and made it around, Eiji was stopped at a railing around a drop-off. A pool of dark water lay below, its surface rippling from the quakes.

“Hope your droids can swim,” Eiji said.

“What?” Akira asked.

“We have to jump. It’s the only way to escape!”

Akira turned as the unholy screams resonated into the passage. A thunderclap shook the ground and walls around them.

“Jump!” Eiji shouted.

He did just that, leaping over the railing and hitting the water with a tremendous splash. He kicked for the surface just as Hina hurdled over the railing, followed by Lee. Both splashed into the water.

Akira shouldered his rifle and twisted back toward the wailing. The horrifying din grew louder and louder with every second.

A glowing red light emerged at the end of the passage. Scraping metal pierced the clamor of the screeches. Akira moved his finger to the trigger, as a thick tube of metal slithered around the corner, leaving a trail of tar.

He aimed at where the head should have been, but instead, there were five human faces covered in gashes squirming on the front of a skull. Bulging eyeballs honed in on Akira and his droids.

He whistled right before he squeezed the trigger. Okami jumped over the railing with Kichiro, both plunging into the water as he provided covering fire.

The plasma bolts tore into the agonized human faces that didn’t seem possible.

But as each abomination exploded in a spray of gore, Akira knew these faces were all too real. There was only one explanation—they were yet another science experiment created by Otto Cross for his new hellish world.

***

An asteroid streaked over the lunar sky, burning over the sprawling basin. Ronin trekked across the lonely gray stretch with the twenty-eight other Machine Slayers. The platoon had a perfect view of Earth during their evening patrol. The planet, still burning from E-Day, appeared as a brownish-red ball out in space.

The cadets continued their patrol for the next hour as darkness slowly covered the view of their former home, leaving only a sliver on the horizon.

Ronin and a few other cadets stopped to watch as it disappeared. Night had fallen over Earth.

The comms crackled with a message from Sergeant Zlaner.

“Keep moving, we’re heading back to base.”

Ronin turned back toward their new home. In the distance, the fortified towers of Kepler Station rose along the crater rim. Micky and Bradley stuck near Ronin as they marched across the open basin.

Tadhg had been right. Out here, all you had were the men next to you.

Ronin particularly liked Bradley. He was funny and not as much of a greenhorn as everyone thought. In fact, he had proven he not only knew how to shoot, but he was adept at maneuvering in their exoskeletons.

They both looked up at a pair of King Cobra spaceplanes burning across the black overhead. Ronin watched them as a third fighter joined the formation. It wasn’t unusual to see them on combat air patrols (CAPs), but it was odd to see them dip into Kepler Crater.

Zlaner seemed to notice too and turned toward them for a moment. After a brief pause, he tilted his head like he was getting a private comms message.

Then he waved for the platoon to move forward.

“Back to the station now!” he yelled over the comms.

Micky and Bradley both froze, but Ronin didn’t waste a second breaking into a loping run. His two friends followed a beat later.

Ronin almost stopped when he saw the cannon barrels built into nearby ridgelines rotating toward the abyss of space.

Across the crater, flashes erupted from the distant cannons built along the edges.

“Oh no,” he stammered.

This was it.

This was the day the machines finally attacked the moon. And the Machine Slayer Platoon was caught in the open.

He summoned all the strength he had, his muscles burning with the effort.

“Behind us!” someone shouted on the open comm channel.

Ronin turned to a view that nearly made him stumble with shock.

An entire swarm of thirty Praying Mantis fighters rose over the basin. They must have flown low over the moon’s surface to attack the station.

Some of the cannons built into the crater rim began to rotate toward them while the others focused on firing at more Praying Mantis fighters coming from Earth’s direction.

“Everyone down!” Zlaner yelled over the comms.

Plasma fire tore overhead, but the bolts weren’t meant for the platoon. The shots slammed into the towers and structures at Kepler Station. Massive explosions ripped the defensive emplacements apart.

Ronin searched the basin for an escape route. The platoon was about five hundred feet from the pillboxes that would provide them some much needed cover. Another one thousand five hundred feet beyond those were the aboveground hangars. Those hangars led to bunkers buried beneath the regolith.

A different platoon returning from patrol was already running for the pillboxes. Bulky Juggernauts ran among them, their heavy feet kicking up dust. As hard as they were running, they were still stuck in the wide open.

They aren’t going to make it, Ronin realized.

The Praying Mantis fighters turned their turrets on the troopers. Geysers of rock exploded into the air, along with chunks of burning flesh and broken armor.

As the debris came back down to the ground, craters pockmarked the regolith, filled with blood and gore. A single Juggernaut remained standing, one of his arms blown off. He angled his remaining arm upward, firing an attached plasma cannon at the enemy fighters.

The Praying Mantis fighters curved away, breaking off to attack MOTHs and King Cobras attempting to take off in the chaos.

Ronin kept running, helplessly watching the aerial battle.

Another Praying Mantis squadron peeled off to attack the crater rim turrets. The cannons took out two of them, but there were so many… too many.

And they were fast. Most easily avoided the cannon fire. A squadron six strong dropped down over the basin, launching missiles into the ridgelines.

When the explosions cleared, only two of the ten original cannons were still firing. The rest were scattered piles of molten debris.

Back at the main base, two MOTHs pulled away from the runway. They rocketed toward the central command tower.

Ronin wondered if Thacker was on one of those MOTHs.

A few Praying Mantis fighters swooped in after the transports. They launched a salvo of missiles that speared into the wings and hulls. The heavy armor gave way, and the pilots lost control, both of the MOTHs going down.

A single Praying Mantis fighter launched another missile right at the center of the main tower. Two seconds later, the entire command center disappeared.

The enemy craft was consumed in the black cloud of debris.

Ronin stopped next to Zlaner, both watching in horror.

“Sergeant,” Bradley said over the comms. “What do we do?”

Zlaner lowered his rifle, clearly in shock.

The rest of the platoon huddled around, taking knees as enemy fire pounded the base.

Ronin put a hand on Zlaner’s shoulder plate, shaking him out of his trance.

The sergeant finally turned and looked out over the basin. He pointed to a ridgeline along the crater rim.

“Fall back to those bunkers,” he ordered.

The platoon fled as Kepler Station was erased in a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hear the explosions, but Ronin could feel them thump through the ground and into his heavy boots.

When one particularly strong quake rippled through the ground, he tripped, falling forward into the dust. Bradley reached down and helped him up.

“Come on, Ronin!” Bradley called.

The entire platoon ran as fast as their exoskeletons would allow, but Ronin feared it wouldn’t be fast enough before the Praying Mantis fighters returned to mop them up.

He risked a glance over his shoulder to see another lookout tower at Kepler Station toppling over, crashing in a heap of debris.

“Watch out!” someone yelled over the comms.

Blue lights broke through the darkness like winking stars along the crater rim about two thousand feet to their left.

It took Ronin another second for his brain to register what those stars really were.

Segmented arms whipped above the crater rim, pulling up six-hundred-pound machines onto the basin.

The closest cadets turned and ran, but there was nowhere to go. They were trapped between the Canebrakes and Kepler Station.

“Get back here!” Zlaner shouted over the comms. “Shoot the Canebrakes. Everyone, shoot them!”

Some of the cadets fled in panic, but Ronin stood his ground with Micky, Bradley, and a dozen others.

The shoulder-mounted cannons on the Canebrakes exploded to life, bolts coursing through the darkness and tearing into cadets.

“Behind us!” came a voice on the comms.

Praying Mantis fighters ripped toward their rear flank, hammering the ground with missiles. One blast tore Ronin off his feet, throwing him onto his back.

His helmet screamed a warning.

Critical damage to battery.

The HUD suddenly shut off.

Blinking, he looked up as hundreds of blue eyes illuminated the armored frames of Canebrakes clambering across the terrain toward his platoon.

The swarm of Praying Mantis fighters soared away from the basin and Kepler Station, headed straight toward Mesopotamia.

Ronin pushed himself up, grabbed his rifle, and aimed at the army of approaching machines.

For Elan, for their mother, and for all the survivors, he stood and fired.

The machines charged, whipping their arms out and firing blades at Ronin and the others. One of those blades ripped into his suit.

And with that final attack, he snapped out of his nightmare.

Ronin jerked awake covered in sweat and sat upright.

Chest heaving, he slowly turned to see the other cadets he had just seen die sleeping peacefully in their bunks across the barracks.

Ronin tried to control his breath as he rested his head back on his pillow, but he didn’t close his eyes.

This nightmare had haunted him nearly every time he tried to sleep lately. Each time, the machines ambushed the LDC, overwhelming and destroying the base with ease.

Ronin always thought about where the enemy would head next—Mesopotamia.

Even if they didn’t know where it was now, they would have access to that intel as soon as they took over Kepler Station.

He was sure the LDC had thought of how to safeguard the secret location if the station did fall, but if Ronin had learned anything about the machines, it was that they were relentless. Once they overwhelmed Kepler Station, they would be impossible to stop.

His brother, mother, and everyone else would be slaughtered.

“Ronin,” came a voice.

He turned over to find Bradley was awake.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

“Just a dream about the machines,” Ronin said. “Just can’t sleep. You?”

“I guess I’m still fired up about weapons training. I didn’t think I had it in me.”

Someone hushed them from another bunk.

Ronin turned onto his back.

“Go to sleep,” Ronin said to Bradley. “You’re going to need your rest for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“We’re heading for a patrol on the basin.” Ronin closed his eyes, hoping for sleep this time.

“In your dream…” Bradley whispered, the words trailing off as if it was more of a question.

Ronin slowly turned toward his friend.

“Did we win?” Bradley asked. “When the machines came?”

“Yeah,” Ronin lied.

— 12 —

“Prepare for landing,” said the pilot.

Tadhg stood in the cargo hold of their stealth MOTH with Keanu, Cyrus, Chloe, and the team of rebel troopers. He was still expecting King Cobra Spaceplanes to blast them out of the sky. But so far, their journey from the Shoemaker Crater to Kepler Crater had gone by uneventfully.

The fact that the stealth MOTH had evaded Kepler’s defense so easily bothered Tadhg. If a ragtag crew like theirs could get this close to Kepler Station, then how easy would it be for the machines?

For now, he wouldn’t worry about that. They were still fifty miles from the actual station and would take a transport train to close the final distance.

For now, uneventful was okay, because soon, real soon, shit was about to hit the fan. Getting Captain Jake Harback out of prison was going to be anything but uneventful.

Not to mention getting to Earth in one piece would be no cakewalk. They couldn’t even convince their current pilot to agree to the mission.

For Tadhg, finding Shadow Squad, and destroying Otto Cross and every enemy machine was worth risking his life.

He was ready for the fight, but he wasn’t sure Chloe was ready for where they were headed. The girl spoke like she was ready. And sure, she had gone through hell during the occupation of Megacity Paris and at Atlas Station. But surviving hell didn’t always prepare someone to fight and kill.

If Chloe stood any chance of succeeding at this next mission, she had no choice but to become a warrior.

Cyrus, lovestruck as he might be with Chloe, still had a tough streak. The guy was a former police officer, and Tadhg could tell Cyrus would go down fighting to save Chloe.

Tadhg hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

He raised one of his new arms under Trooper armor to get the attention of his new friends.

“You know, in Shadow Squad, we used to have a saying,” Tadhg said. “The crazier the plan, the better chance of success because no one will see it coming.”

“Maybe that works for Engines, but in case you forget, we sure as hell aren’t Engines,” Cyrus replied.

He was right, of course.

“The plan might sound crazy, but it’s solid,” Keanu said. “My allies have arranged safe transport to Kepler via a train transport. Once you reach the station, two allied troopers will be waiting to help you free Captain Harback.”

“Allied?” Tadhg asked.

“Yes, we can trust them. These are defectors like Cyrus.”

“If Keanu says we can trust them, we can,” Cyrus said. “However, do you think Tadhg’s going to just walk around without anyone noticing?”

“But according to the LDC, he’s dead,” Chloe said. “Tadhg’s the last person anyone’s going to be looking for right now.”

She looked to Keanu. “I’m more worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Keanu said. “I’ve already got friends waiting for me. Now, everyone, get ready. Once we land, we will need to move fast.”

“Better say your goodbyes then,” Tadhg said.

Chloe embraced her uncle for a long moment.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’ll see each other again, one way or another.”

“You really think we can do this?” Chloe asked. “Stop Otto, save Earth, and protect the colonies?”

“I believe in destiny, and I believe Apeiron picked you because of your strength and your intelligence. Now go find her.”

“I will, I won’t let you down.”

Chloe let go of her uncle, and Keanu offered a hand to Tadhg.

“Good luck, Sergeant.”

Tadhg met Keanu’s hand with one of his new robotic limbs. “Good luck, Councilor.”

Behind him, Chloe, Cyrus, Keanu, and the rebels that had accompanied them made their final preps for landing.

A few minutes later, the MOTH set down with a jolt.

With a metallic click, the troop hold opened, and Tadhg jumped out onto the moon. He scanned the terrain of rolling dunes, seeing no sign of hostiles.

Cyrus led the way to a utility hatch protruding from one of those dunes. It was the same kind the LDC had installed throughout the crater, but from what Tadhg remembered, they were all protected by cameras, alarms, and sensors.

He had to trust Keanu had a plan for that.

The councilor followed Cyrus across the surface to a hatch that looked a lot like a manhole cover. Cyrus opened it, and then they began the descent down a ladder into a utility tunnel.

Tadhg went first with his plasma pistol in one hand for whatever awaited them. At the bottom, he used his tactical light to clear a long tunnel. He could tell there was no artificial gravity or oxygen down here.

Chloe came next, and Tadhg helped her off the rungs. Once they were all down, they started walking through the dark tunnel.

Tadhg switched to his rifle. For thirty minutes, they traversed the eerie darkness, listening and watching for any sign they’d been spotted. Finally, they came upon another door.

Keanu squeezed past Tadhg and then tapped it several times.

Cyrus moved in front of Chloe, and Tadhg did the same with his rifle raised. He moved his finger to the trigger, ready to blast any troopers that might have sniffed them out.

Sure enough, there was a person waiting when the door opened. Tadhg wasn’t sure if this was an ally or enemy. He kept his barrel pointed at a man wearing a black vacuum-rated suit.

Keanu walked ahead, raising a hand as if to say it was alright. The man in the black suit took a step back and gestured for the group to go through an open hatch into a chamber. After closing the hatch, he tapped a control panel and the room depressurized.

The next hatch opened to another utility tunnel, but this one was wide enough for vehicles. Tadhg immediately felt the pull of artificial gravity on his body, and his HUD reported there was breathable atmosphere.

Standing about two hundred feet away was an LDC Trooper armed with a rifle. A large bag was at his feet.

Tadhg halted, squaring up with his barrel on the mirrored visor of the trooper.

“He’s a friend,” said the man in the black suit. He removed the helmet covering his shaved head and bushy brown eyebrows.

Keanu lifted up his visor with a smile.

“Gentry, I knew you would keep your word,” he said.

The two men embraced in a short hug.

Gentry put his helmet back on and pointed to the soldier. “This is Sergeant Loche. He’s on our side, so relax.”

Tadhg lowered his rifle, but kept his eyes on the trooper.

“This way, we don’t have much time before the next patrol,” said the sergeant. He picked up his bag and started to walk the opposite way down the corridor.

Tadhg was impressed at the councilor’s ability to get them this far, but every person that knew about them was one more person that could fry this whole mission.

If Loche was a traitor, he wouldn’t be the first trooper to screw them over.

Tadhg thought back to Ronald. The guy had pretended to work with them, then sold them out to Thacker. Two other kids on their team, Veronica and Joaquín, got killed as a result of the betrayal.

He shook away the thoughts as the passage intersected a train tunnel.

Gentry stopped with Loche.

“There’s a transport arriving at the next station in two hours,” Loche said. He dropped the bag to the ground. “There are three maintenance uniforms in here, along with the appropriate IDs that have your pictures from the colonist database. You will see they have fake names. You’ll need them to get on that train. Once you get to Kepler, another trooper will be waiting.”

Chloe walked over to the rucksack and pulled out the yellow maintenance outfits.

She held up the largest of the uniforms.

“No way I’ll fit in that,” Tadhg said.

“You better, ’cause you won’t get on the train without it,” Loche said.

“You got any gloves, and a hat?” Chloe asked.

“Check the bag.”

She fished out both and handed them to Tadhg.

“A little privacy,” Chloe said.

The men turned while she stripped down. Tadhg discarded his armor on the ground. Then he climbed into the large suit. The zipper caught over his chest. Holding in his gut, he just managed to yank the zipper up and to his neck.

“Damn, this thing is tight as a…” he started to say.

Chloe chuckled and walked over as Tadhg put on the hat and then the gloves.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Not bad,” Chloe said.

Cyrus grinned. “You don’t want to know, Sergeant.”

“Yeah, whatever, man,” Tadhg said. “Let’s get moving.”

He walked around the corner and picked up his rifle.

“Are you crazy?” Loche asked. “You have to pass as maintenance workers.”

“You want us to go there unarmed?” Tadhg asked.

“Maintenance workers don’t carry pulse rifles, man. Now you either do as I say—”

Tadhg tossed the gun over.

“Fine, I got arms, that’s all I need.” He walked past Loche and into the train tunnel. Keeping to the left of the tracks, Tadhg focused on the corridor ahead. He was done chatting and didn’t want to watch another goodbye between Keanu and Chloe.

A few minutes later, Chloe and Cyrus joined him.

The three of them ran down the tracks until they got to the next station. Tadhg snuck a glance around the bend. A single trooper patrolled near a stairwell across the platform, about five hundred feet away.

When the soldier turned his back, Tadhg motioned for Cyrus and Chloe. He helped them both up onto the platform.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” the trooper called.

Tadhg stood and stiffened, but Chloe gestured subtly with a finger to stand down.

“We just got back from a track maintenance,” she said. “You didn’t get the message?”

The soldier strode over, looking at them in turn. “Message? I didn’t get any message about maintenance work.”

“It’s the interference because of the damn tunnels.” Chloe shook her head. “I’ll check with the line supervisor and let them know.”

The trooper stopped in front of them, pausing for a moment.

Tadhg clenched his jaw, ready to spring into action if needed. He looked for cameras but didn’t see any within view.

The security down here was lacking, that was for sure. Good for them now, but bad if the machines invaded.

“IDs,” the trooper said.

Chloe fished hers out from her vest while Tadhg and Cyrus followed suit.

“We’re on the next train to Kepler for our first leave in two weeks,” she said. “Can’t wait to get back.”

The trooper looked at the IDs, one by one, and then directed his helmet at Tadhg.

Don’t do anything stupid… don’t do anything stupid.

Tadhg breathed steadily.

“Leave sounds damn good to me right now,” said the trooper. “Enjoy it.”

He turned and walked away, vanishing around a pillar and into a hallway.

“Nice job,” Cyrus whispered.

Tadhg nodded at Chloe.

She smiled proudly.

“Hope it’s this easy when we get to Kepler,” Cyrus said.

“I’m kind of hoping it won’t be, to be honest,” Tadhg said. “I’m ready to crack some skulls.”

***

Akira walked through the system of tunnels with Kichiro and Okami, still following Eiji and his comrades. Another three hours had passed since they jumped into the pool of water to escape the anaconda of metal with human faces.

For some reason, the nightmare machine didn’t follow them. Or if it had, it was stalking them silently.

Maybe that was what had gotten the two deep-sea diving droids that went offline shortly after Akira made it to the crater.

Questions swirled through his mind during the trek. Not only about what his guides called the Conda, but how they survived out here with the mechanical beast hunting in these tunnels. He was even starting to wonder if it was the abominations that made these tunnels.

There was a lot more to this story, but Akira knew he was close to the answers.

“Almost there,” Hina said.

“We’re good now,” Eiji added. He shone his flashlight on Akira. “Prepare to meet the King of Tokyo, so mind your manners, Captain.”

He stepped around the corner and shouted, “It’s Eiji!”

A heavy metallic clank echoed past him, followed by the heavy thud of boots.

“Come out,” boomed a voice.

Eiji raised his hands and walked into the corridor.

“We have a visitor,” he said.

Akira kept his rifle cradled but moved into a defensive stance. Okami and Kichiro both remained behind him.

Two figures walked around the corridor. Both men directed suppressed assault rifles at Akira. Long black trench coats hung to their boots. The bulk under those coats told Akira they were wearing armor.

“Holy crap,” one said in muffled Japanese.

“Easy,” Akira replied. “I’m not here to harm anyone.”

Only one of the men lowered his weapon.

“Well, I’ll be damned, I never thought I’d see an Engine again,” he said.

The other guard kept his rifle aimed at Akira’s face plate.

“Open your visor,” he said. “I want to see your face.”

Eiji took refuge behind the guards. Lee joined him, but Hina stayed by Akira’s side.

“He’s not an enemy,” she said firmly. “I found that out the hard way.”

“It’s true,” Eiji said in a low, less convincing voice.

The two guards finally lowered their rifles.

“Thank you,” Akira said. He walked forward, both guards backing out of the way to let him pass. They glared at Kichiro and Okami.

Around the corner, two sentry guns were positioned on the sides of a steel door. They both roved toward his droids.

Akira felt his guts tangle. Those weapons would make quick work of them if this was a trap.

But he didn’t have a choice now. These people might be his best shot at finding the Life Ark and Apeiron.

Two blast doors creaked open, revealing a vast chamber.

A pair of Hummer Droids waited inside, their robotic arms mounted with plasma rifles. These were archaic models, which was probably why the signal sent on E-Day didn’t turn them. Or, perhaps these people had reprogrammed them like Juno had Blinky.

Behind the robots, two Doberman Pincer droids watched Akira, their artificial black eyes following his every movement.

They growled at Okami, and the wolfdog returned the fearsome gesture.

“Easy,” Akira said.

Okami quieted, but the other dog droids continued to snarl.

Akira walked out onto the bottom floor of the chamber.

Rising up from the floor, ten levels of platforms extended all the way to the cracked concrete ceiling. Haphazardly built shacks filled every level. Water dripped from the ceiling in an almost constant stream.

On the ground level, tents and more metal shacks provided refuge from the dripping water. Faces poked out, some wearing masks, others with scarves up over their noses, their eyes following him in awe.

“An Engine,” someone yelled. “They found an Engine!”

A group of ten people surrounded Akira and his animal companions. Then twenty. Within minutes, there were fifty people surging around him, reaching out to touch his armor, muttering prayers and asking questions.

Okami wagged his tail, but Kichiro let out a neigh, clearly agitated by the presence of so many people.

There were survivors of all ages, even a few elderly. Akira heard a baby wail and looked up to a woman trying to comfort the child in one of the upper level shacks. Curtains covering the windows of the dwellings on the platforms above pulled back, and filthy faces peered down at Akira.

He looked right back, just as in awe of them as they were of him. In his heart, he believed there would be survivors outside the Megacities, but he never imagined he would find them under one, except for maybe in the Life Ark.

Between the curious voices, coughing filled the chamber.

The air quality was awful. It reeked of smoke.

Akira looked at his mission clock. He was eight hours in and needed to get moving.

“What the hell is all the commotion about?” shouted a deep voice.

The two guards leading Akira both went down on one knee as a man wearing a leather vest strode into view. Tattoos covered his arms and neck.

His voice was familiar, but it was his rough and handsome face that told Akira he was the leader of the Yakuza gang he encountered the night of E-Day. By his side was the same brown Hummer Droid, a smile on its screen.

“Ah, would you believe it, Akira the Brave has returned,” the droid said in a playful but friendly robotic voice.

“No, I don’t fucking believe it,” said the Yakuza. “Never thought I’d see your ugly mug again, but perhaps you’ve returned to help as you promised the night of the holocaust.”

He stepped up to Akira. The Engine towered a foot and a half above the Yakuza gangster, but the man didn’t back down. Akira tried to recall his name, finally coming up with it.

“Kobe,” Akira said.

“Not anymore, motherfucker.” Kobe raised his tattooed arms and turned, pumping them up. “What’s my name?”

“King of Tokyo, King of Tokyo!” chanted the sea of people.

Cheers and shouts roared through the chamber, every civilian joining in the feverish chant. The Hummer Droid joined in by stomping a metal padded foot.

“I didn’t think the military was still fighting up there,” Kobe said. “Where are the rest of you assholes? We’ve been waiting over a month for some sort of action topside.”

“It’s just me,” Akira replied.

“You came alone?”

“I did,” Akira said.

“You got to be kidding…”

“It’s true,” Hina said, taking a step around Akira.

“I see you met my cousin,” Kobe said. Then he narrowed his eyes, studying her face. “Damn, kid, what happened to your nose?”

“You’re standing in front of exactly what happened,” Hina said.

Kobe glanced from his cousin to Akira. His nostrils flared with anger. “You hit a girl? My cousin?”

“They attacked me, and my droids,” Akira said. “She’s lucky to be alive.”

Kobe seemed to consider that for a moment, then seemed to soften. “I get it. With what the world’s turned into, you got to shoot first, ask questions later.” He pointed at Hina. “You’re the dumbass that attacked an Engine.”

His gaze went to Eiji and Lee. “Seriously, what were you thinking? And what were you doing on the surface anyways?”

“Scavenging, until we saw him heading for the downed King Cobra,” Eiji said.

“I told you not to go topside for a while,” Kobe said. “It’s too dangerous right now, especially with all the activity.” Kobe ran a hand over his buzzed head and turned back to Akira. “So what are you doing here?”

“I came to find the Life Ark buried under the city,” Akira replied. He heard murmurs whispering through the survivors. “Can we talk somewhere private?”

“Sure, follow me, Akira the Brave, but leave your friends.”

Akira hesitated.

“They’ll be fine,” Kobe said. “You have my word.”

“Your cousin and her comrades were going to part them out.”

Kobe glared at Hina. “Is that so?”

Hina shrugged.

“Stay here and make sure they don’t get a scratch, or it’s your rations,” Kobe said.

“Okay,” Hina said with a scowl.

The crowd parted as Kobe walked away. Akira gave Kichiro and Okami orders to stay put before following Kobe and his droid.

Hushed voices filled the chamber as they left.

Kobe took an open door to a platform that connected to a second, much smaller open chamber. Inside, tiered levels were packed full of troughs under grow lights. All sorts of plants grew under them. Most were just starting to bloom.

Livestock lived in dark stalls under the mezzanine Akira walked across.

Kobe took him to a large office with desks pushed against the windowless walls, and a table in the center of the room covered in maps.

The robot walked in with them and closed the door.

“Oh by the way, this is Fish if you don’t remember,” Kobe said.

Akira scrutinized the droid.

“The fuck you looking at?” Fish said.

“He’s programmed to be a gigantic asshole,” Kobe said with a grin.

“Now that’s a picture,” Fish said.

“Look, I don’t have much time,” Akira said. Why anyone ever programmed droids for anything but serious work was beyond him. “I’m looking for a Life Ark and need your help. This is the first time I’ve run into those snakes out there, and I have a feeling there are more.”

Kobe took a seat at the main table and propped his feet up on it, then put his hands behind his head.

“We call them anacondas,” Kobe said calmly. “You’ve probably heard my cousin calling them Condas for short. After the machines left Tokyo, they dropped those suckers on us, I’m guessing, to clear out the survivors. Real bag of dicks, they are.”

“And they haven’t found this place yet?”

“God willing, they won’t.”

“How do you stay hidden from them?”

“Mostly we just keep to ourselves,” Kobe said. “We lost a few people to them back when we were sending more scavenging parties out.”

“No one goes out anymore?” Akira pressed.

“Besides my shithead cousin and the little crew she runs with, no. We’re holed up here tighter than a crab trying to save its ass from an octopus.”

He reached into his vest and pulled out a small vial.

“When we do risk sending a scavenger up, they take one of these.” He held the vial up under the light. “If they get captured, they commit… what do the samurai call it?”

“Seppuku.”

“Right. Except they don’t cut out their own bellies like the samurai did, or whatever. But still, death by poison is better than what the machines do to them.”

Akira walked over to the maps, many of which were hand-drawn.

“We’re here if you can’t tell,” Kobe said. He pointed to a spot on one larger map at the center of the table. “Right on the other side of the crater, in the basement of an old warehouse built under a scraper. Those silos you saw once held chemicals. We patched them up the best we could and have started to grow food for the long haul, but I don’t know if it will be enough.”

Akira didn’t want to say he agreed. Food would only prolong the inevitable. Eventually, those Condas would find this place.

“I need to find the Life Ark,” Akira said. “Do you have a map showing where it is?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

“Supplies and food are nice, but really, we want out of this shithole.” Kobe scratched his chin. “Preferably, somewhere safe from the machines. I’m sure the military has some bunker somewhere with endless supplies, right?”

Akira considered his response. He didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep, but above all, he needed to know where the Life Ark was.

“We have a sanctuary, but our supplies are far from endless,” he said. “How many of you are there?”

“One hundred five as of this morning, and I’m not going to tell you where the Life Ark is unless I get an assurance you will evacuate every single one of them. Even Grandma Bebop and her dentures.”

“So you do know?”

Kobe smirked. “Yeah, pal, I know.”

Akira took in a deep breath as he looked over the maps again. Sagamai Bay was only two miles to the south. Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t much ground to cover, but with the Condas, it may as well been two hundred miles.

There was plenty of room on the Pelican for Kobe’s people if Akira could somehow get them there safely. But it was a big risk to the people and the submarine.

Still, without Apeiron, the war was lost, and everyone would die anyway.

“Before we agree to anything, have you been to the Life Ark?” Akira asked.

“No, I haven’t. And before you ask, my people haven’t either. We know where the entrances are, but from what I understand, they were sealed off.” He shrugged. “We were thinking of raiding it if we ran out of food and didn’t have any better choice.”

Akira thought another moment. “Very well, if you tell me where the Life Ark is, I will help get your people out of here as soon as I can. I still owe you from the last time we met.”

“That’s right, you do, but before I agree to anything, I want to know where you’re taking us.”

“You want me to trust that you’ll keep your end of the bargain. Well, you’re going to have to trust me on the location.”

“Shit…” Kobe folded his arms across his vest. “You just admitted you owe me, Captain, and frankly, you owe it to these people to help them. After all, it was the Nova Alliance that caused their suffering, am I right?”

“I really will do everything I can to get them to safety.”

“I have your word?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then,” Kobe said. “I’ll help keep you alive long enough to fulfill that promise.” He unfolded his arms and snapped his fingers at the droid. “Let’s go, Fish. We got some fishing to do.”

— 13 —

Jackson wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or awake.

Perhaps he was somewhere in between.

A memory stirred of when he was twenty-six. Just after his birthday, he finished the months of physical and mental tests to enter the Engine program.

He would never forget that day when four doctors and a scientist wearing masks led him into a spotless white room with a hover table.

Over the next few hours, the doctors worked under the supervision of the nameless male scientist. They hooked tubes and electric cables up across his body, pumping a serum into his veins and stimulating his brain and muscles with electric shocks.

Sometime later, the doctors activated the hover function on the table and moved him into another spotless room for surgery. Thirty-six hours after that, he had new eyes, lungs, and a heart strong enough for him to survive the worst part of the transition.

Two weeks later, he underwent the surgery to strengthen and lengthen his bones. The recovery was agonizing. But a month following the surgery, Jackson took his final physical and mental test. His transformation to an Engine was complete.

The memories faded, and he opened his eyes, still feeling the same internal warmth he never forgot from those days.

He fought to break through the cloud of fog imprisoning his mind.

But no matter how hard he battled, he remained in the dreamlike state. This time, he slipped into a memory from E-Day, when his entire squad had lost their lives to the Canebrakes.

First it was J-Fam, then Money Mike, both dismembered by super-heated blades. A plasma cannon decimated Little Vander. It was just Jackson and Robey after that, running through the forest to try and get to the rendezvous.

Robey was on rearguard as Jackson led them away from the airfield where the machines had ambushed the evacuees.

The distinct clank of metal against metal made them both freeze. He and Robey both ducked behind a boulder with fern branches drooping over it.

They prepared to fire when Jackson heard voices.

A platoon of Pistons—or what was left of a platoon—was heading back toward the airfield with orders to retake it. Jackson and Robey joined them, but the Engines knew it would be an impossible order.

Praying Mantis fighters controlled the airspace, taking out any new transports that tried to land. Canebrakes scattered across the runways, attacking the MOTHs and other aircraft that had managed to set down.

“We have to take out those fighters!” Jackson yelled.

The Pistons sprinted for the sandbags and heavy machine guns on the western side of the runway where a group of ten soldiers were holding back the enemy advancing from the east.

Robey took point this time, firing bursts at one of the Praying Mantis crafts peeling away for another run.

The two Engines moved toward a downed MOTH for cover. Robey hunched against the exterior hull of the cockpit while Jackson went to an injured Piston.

“I got one!” Robey shouted.

Jackson looked skyward as a Praying Mantis spiraled out of control. The burning wings zipped through the air before slamming into the runway in a burst of fire.

Robey moved around the side of the MOTH when Jackson heard another Praying Mantis fighter dive bombing from straight overhead.

“Wait, Robey, get back—”

Jackson picked up the injured Piston and tried to get away as a missile streaked from the Praying Mantis. It hit the ground behind Robey, blowing up a chunk of runway. The cockpit of the MOTH erupted in a spray of slagged metal and broken fiberglass.

The pressure wave slammed into Jackson and the man he carried. They cartwheeled away over the runway. The force of the explosion knocked Jackson down hard enough he could not get up for a solid minute. When he finally did, his ears ringing, head pounding, there was a smoking crater where Robey had stood moments earlier.

The injured soldier was mangled, his helmet broken open to a red pulp like a ripe fruit.

The original platoon of Pistons was retreating back into the forest.

Jackson stood. A wave of dizziness swept through him, and he stumbled.

“Robey, brother,” he said, his voice sounding distant through his pained hearing.

He picked himself up again and knelt by Robey’s side.

The man’s face was completely gone.

Jackson let out a moan from the horrible memories. The traumatic images prompted a wave of adrenaline that finally forced his heavy eyelids open. He blinked away the blur to find he was in a glass and metal pod inside a shaft of metal bones.

Hundreds of other chambers lined the alloy spinal columns all around Jackson. Rays of moonlight filtered in from a gaping hole in the side of the tower far above his pod.

It struck him then, he was inside one of the superstructures.

Maybe even the one he had disabled, judging by the damage to the upper levels.

The pod glass began to open, cold air blasting his naked body. Straps over his chest and legs held him in place. He felt down to a tube twisting from a port in his stomach. Some sort of feeding tube, he guessed.

A sudden bright glow pierced the darkness, forcing the shadows to retreat. The light weakened, until Jackson could make out a figure dressed in a silver coat.

“Otto,” he mumbled.

“I wasn’t expecting to find another one of your kind…”

Jackson watched the hologram of the AI that had nearly wiped out humanity.

“And yet here you are,” Otto said. “Alive, and in remarkably good condition.”

The hologram hovered over the pod, eyes flitting from Jackson’s feet to his mohawk.

“You are an Engine, are you not?”

Jackson didn’t reply.

“At first, I thought you were a Breaker, dressed in Coalition armor, but your flesh lacks the tattoos of my former super soldiers,” Otto said. “So that tells me you have allied with traitorous Coalition forces in this area. Those fools that have broken their allegiance to me will suffer greatly when my legions hunt them down.”

The hologram shifted directly over the pod.

“I won’t ask you again,” Otto said. “Name, rank, unit. I want to know more about the soldier that brought down one of my Harvesters.”

Jackson wanted to fire back and tell Otto what he really thought of him, but he was a prisoner of war. Part of his training as an Engine told him silence was the best route during an interrogation.

But that was back when the enemy was flesh and blood.

“You will answer my questions,” Otto said. “Trust me on that.”

Humming rose through the hollowed interior of the superstructure that Otto called a Harvester.

A drone hovered toward Jackson. The robot reminded him of a brown pineapple with wings as the prickly device lowered directly over his head. A small hole opened in the bottom of the drone, ejecting a glob of a tar-like substance directly onto his face and chest.

Jackson closed his eyes, but some of the thick goo had already gotten in his eyes. A burning sensation instantly set in.

He tried to blink out the liquid, but it quickly dissolved. When his vision cleared, he saw the gelatinous material had completely soaked into his chest too. Squirming in his thick hair were black worms.

“Like I said, you will talk,” Otto said.

The worms slithered off his ribs and down his body in all directions, their eyeless faces opening to reveal needle-like teeth. Those teeth were small, but they chiseled through his flesh with ease.

He let out a muffled cry of agony, a costly mistake. One worm wiggled across his lips. He clamped his jaw, catching it before it could get all the way into his mouth.

Jackson bit down as hard as he could, finally splitting through the thick, chewy body of the worm. Fluid sloshed out in his mouth when he cut it in half.

“I wouldn’t swallow that,” Otto said. “It’s poisonous in large doses.”

Jackson spit out the meaty body and kept spitting until his mouth was dry. He jerked and flinched as the worms chewed into his flesh and under his skin. The pain was overwhelming, like a thousand tiny knives were stabbing and digging into him all at once.

“I can make them stop,” Otto said. “All you have to do is tell me what I want to know.”

Jackson tried to break free from his restraints, his muscles tightening across his body. The AI watched him curiously.

“I’m sure you have heard of my offer to join my legions willingly, to live in this new world,” Otto said. “Why must it be so hard? Why must you fight the future?”

“Because we would rather die than live in your–” Jackson closed his eyes as one of the worms writhed around his genitals. The pain that followed was far worse than anything he had endured during or after the surgeries of his transformation into an Engine.

He let out a wail that he didn’t even recognize.

“You can end this!” Otto shouted.

“Fuck you!” Jackson yelled back.

Otto smiled. “I knew it wouldn’t be hard to break you.”

“You won’t break me.” Jackson clenched his teeth. “You will never break me.”

“It might take longer than the others, but I have my ways.”

The fire in Jackson’s genitals suddenly stopped, replaced by a warm rush of not pain, but pleasure. His back arched against the restraints as he orgasmed.

All across his body, the worms under his flesh released a cooling fluid that spread like an avalanche under his skin, washing away the pain, and leaving him relaxed and in complete peace.

“Pain is something you know how to fight, but why fight it when you can embrace pleasure beyond your wildest dreams?” Otto said.

Jackson took in a deep breath as the holographic image of the doctor again leaned down over his sweaty body.

“Just tell me your name, rank, and unit,” he said. “All this can be yours for eternity.”

His heart slowly returned to normal, but Jackson knew that was about to change. He glanced down at the worms buried under his skin. They weren’t moving now.

Part of him wanted to submit, to tell Otto what he wanted to know, but he knew once he did, it would open the flood gates to more questions. He would want to know where Command was and then…

No, you have to stay strong. You can endure this.

“No? Okay,” Otto said. “Let’s try something else.”

The hologram hovered across the middle of the chamber to the skeletal risers. A white glow lit up each pod along the levels, illuminating the prisoners inside.

Despite what Jackson had expected, not all were full of intact humans.

Headless, limbless torsos floated in clear liquid, cords hooked to the flesh.

In one pod, all Jackson saw was a head and a neck with a spinal cord. The eyes in the head suddenly moved.

Jackson squinted, unbelieving until he saw the remains of a bandage around the partially burned face.

There was no mistaking that face.

It was the fisherman, and he was still alive.

“No,” Jackson mumbled. “No, oh God, oh…”

“These are the people that refused my offers to transcend,” Otto said. “I took what I needed from them, and now they will remain like this.”

The hologram of the AI drifted back to Jackson.

Jackson forced his gaze away from the fisherman to a metal platform. It extended away from the hull under his pod, rising up and stopping about ten feet in front of him.

Standing in the center was a human, but this man or woman had no features.

Not at first.

The blank face suddenly began to shift. It took the form of a man that Jackson recognized right away.

Captain Akira Hayashi.

But this wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him…

“You will tell me where Captain Hayashi and the others are hiding,” Otto said. He pointed at the fisherman. “Or, well, you know what will happen if you don’t.”

Jackson tried to summon his strength again, thinking back to something Akira had once told him after E-Day.

Pain is the price of being a warrior. Our duty is to fight, and to die, so that others may live…

“The worms buried in your flesh are modified versions that I once used in the Hell Hives. But these are upgraded and laced with chemicals that will bring euphoria or absolute agony,” Otto said. “The choice is yours.”

Jackson looked at the spinal cord connected to a head across the chamber. That was what awaited him unless he started talking.

“Tell me,” Otto growled, “where Captain Hayashi is hiding.”

Jackson closed his eyes. Silence was his answer.

“You must like pain.” Otto shook his head. “Okay, let’s see how long you last—”

A deep rumble cut off the AI. Otto looked upward.

Jackson braced himself for pain, but the worms remained dormant. The rumbling intensified, shaking the entire chamber.

At first, he wondered if someone else was attacking the Harvester. When no explosions came, he realized what was actually going on.

Glancing up, Jackson saw the Coalition shuttle launching into the sky. His body tensed with anticipation of the corvette being blasted apart.

“Go, go,” he mumbled.

“An interesting turn of events,” Otto said. “A shuttle packed full of survivors that have turned down my offer of transcendence.”

The roar of the shuttle reverberated through the tower. The AI’s hologram shifted. As the noise faded away, he looked back to Jackson.

“I could blast that ship to pieces, but you know what? Maybe I’ll let them live, maybe I’ll let them land on the moon.” Otto hovered closer to the pod where Jackson squirmed.

“Yes, I think that’s exactly what I’ll do,” Otto said. “I’ll let those refugees explain to the LDC what’s happening on Earth, so when my armies land on the moon, they know they have only one chance to surrender.”

He stood and raised a hand into the air.

“In the meantime, you and I will have plenty of time to chat,” Otto said.

The AI snapped his fingers, activating the worms that curled under Jackson’s skin. He let out an inhuman scream as the rumble of the shuttle faded.

***

“We’re headed out to Zone 3,” said Sergeant Zlaner. “This will be your first live fire drill, so make sure you get your head on straight during the ride.”

The bunker door opened in front of the platoon.

Ronin trotted across a basin with the other twenty-eight members of the Machine Slayers. Each young trooper cradled a plasma rifle. Under their gray armor, vacuum-rated suits hugged their bodies.

The charcoal exoskeletons kept them moving with ease across the dust. The batteries that powered their suits were protected by three inches of thick alloy that could sustain a close-range plasma bolt.

Each cadet carried an adhesive that would seal minimal damage to their armor. But if the batteries were compromised, the trooper would be left completely unable to move unless they removed the exoskeleton. And then, the life support system would only last a few hours.

As Ronin trekked out into the moon dust, he tried not to think about the dream he had the night before. But the real-life view of the distant towers of Kepler Station and the cannons protecting them along the mountain walls reminded him of the vivid nightmare with every step.

It was only a matter of time before those visions became reality.

He just hoped the defenses were stronger in reality than in his dreams.

The platoon moved away from the base and the glow of search lights, straight into the darkness of the basin. Ronin could hardly see the edge of Kepler Crater.

A sea of black stretched out over the gargantuan impact hole. It wasn’t long before three transport rovers came into view. The bulky mining rigs had been retrofitted into troop carriers, with mounted turrets over the front and rear of the vehicle.

Three troopers held sentry at the back. They opened the hatches as the platoon approached. The cadets climbed inside of a spacious interior with ten bucket seats. Ronin took one between Micky and Bradley.

Everyone racked their weapons on slots in an upright position. When they were all secured, the trooper assigned to the transport closed the hatch. The rover jerked, and the oversized tires churned over the basin.

“I wonder why they are shipping us off for this drill,” Bradley said over a private line to Micky and Ronin.

“Who cares?” Micky replied. “I’m just excited to finally shoot my rifle.”

“They probably don’t want us hitting the base by accident, so I’m assuming they’re shipping us off because some of us can’t shoot in a straight line,” Ronin said.

Micky turned toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not aimed at you. Relax.”

The rover thumped over rocky terrain, telling Ronin they were already off the basin. He couldn’t see the moon’s surface to confirm his suspicions because the transport didn’t have any viewports, but he watched the mini-map on his HUD.

The convoy inched closer toward Zone 3. Craters pockmarked the area.

“Alright, listen up,” Zlaner said over the team comms. “Once we unload, it’s a short march to our firing zone. Keep in combat intervals at all times and listen to everything I say, got it?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” repeated the cadets.

Ronin couldn’t deny he was nervous. They were going to be using hot weapons with almost zero training.

The rover jolted to a stop a half hour later and the trooper assigned to the vehicle opened the hatch again. He motioned for the cadets to hop out.

Dust from the rigs drifted away from the tracks they had left on the journey to the zone. Ronin and the rest of the platoon gathered around Zlaner outside.

A fourth vehicle, this one a four-person tactical rover, headed toward their location. There was a single passenger with the driver.

The rover halted behind the vehicles, and out hopped platoon Lieutenant Ariana Ortiz, wearing gray armor with gold stripes on her shoulder pads.

She seemed to like to make an entrance and show off her shooting skills. But neither of those things bothered Ronin. He was glad to have her experience fighting the machines.

The open channel crackled with a message.

“Okay, Machine Slayers, your training today is on the other side of that crater rim,” Ortiz said. “Let’s move!”

She led the way up toward the raised crater rim, moving at a clip.

The rest of the platoon slowly made their way up like ants on a hill. At the crest, they had a view of the crater fifty feet at its deepest point and almost a quarter mile across.

But this wasn’t a normal crater.

This one was a gravesite.

“Holy crap, are those Hummer droids?” Bradley said over a private channel.

Sticking out of the sloped crater rim were former mining droids. Limbs, torsos, and heads protruded from the ground. The LDC had dumped them in craters like this on and after E-Day.

What if some of these were still functional?

Ronin felt a blast of raw fear at the sight of so many droids. He knew these exact units weren’t responsible for tearing people apart on Earth, but they would have done just that if they had the chance.

Judging from the way the rest of the platoon was staring at the broken machines, he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

Maybe this was part of their training.

Definitely part of our training, Ronin thought. The LDC is seeing how we react.

Micky started down the other side of the mound as Ortiz waved them onward. The lieutenant walked down into the darkness, her helmet light serving as a beacon.

She held point as they passed the mostly buried Hummer Worker Droids. These were different than the yellow worker units Ronin remembered from back home. These machines were the color of the dust and had bulkier frames and limbs.

The farther they descended into the crater, the darker it became. Beams flitted outward from rifles and helmets to guide the cadets.

The next stretch of crater was free from the machines, but Ronin noticed something in the dust. Tracks from boots along with tire marks.

They were coming up on the bottom of the crater now. Several ridges and rims made the descent more difficult.

Ronin moved carefully, trying not to slide. Bradley was almost to the bottom now, just behind Ortiz. The kid was definitely eager to prove himself.

One of the guiding beams of light suddenly shot spaceward.

Ronin looked to find Bradley had fallen. He pushed himself up and aimed his rifle back at what had tripped him.

“Easy,” Ortiz said over the comms.

Bradley illuminated a bulky Hummer Droid standing upright in the dust.

All across the basin, the droids were positioned upright utilizing poles and supports. Standing at almost eight feet tall, the menacing metal monsters almost looked like they were still functional.

That was the point, Ronin thought.

“These are your targets,” Ortiz announced. “Remember, you’re using live ammo, so watch your firing zones.”

She turned to Zlaner and ordered him to split them into squads.

Ronin ended up in a squad with Bradley, Micky, and three other cadets.

“Ronin, you’re squad leader,” Zlaner said on a team comm.

“Figures,” Micky said on a private line. “But you guys haven’t seen what I can do yet.”

Bradley walked past and nodded at Ronin.

“I trust you,” he said over the private line.

“Thanks,” Ronin replied.

They set off to the left, trekking through the black of the crater, their boots sinking into the soft dust. It was an honor being given a squad, but also a new challenge. Ronin had never considered he would be responsible for the lives of other soldiers.

He thought back to what Tadhg had said about counting on your comrades in battle.

He tried to put the Engine out of his mind.

Not now, Ronin. Not now.

The different firing lanes were marked by poles with glowing numbers.

Three droids had been erected at twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five, and one hundred meters away. The facial screens were all offline, which made them look even more menacing without their friendly smiles.

“Micky, go ahead,” Ronin said over the squad channel. “You’re up first.”

Micky stepped up to the line in the dust, shouldered his rifle, and fired on the closest machine.

Ronin and the rest of the squad kept behind him, watching the bolts streak across the darkness. Dust kicked up where rounds slammed into the ground around the Hummer Droid. None of his first six shots found the target.

The squad comm surged to life, one of the other cadets laughing.

“If you can’t shoot these when they’re standing still, the hell you going to do when they’re moving?”

“Cut the shit,” Ronin commanded. While he couldn’t see Micky’s face, he knew it would be red. “Micky, try again, and steady your rifle.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Micky shot back.

This time, he fired with the stock more secure against his shoulder plate. Several of the bolts slammed into the torso of the droid. He fired a series of other bursts. Each burst got better, scoring several hits on each of the machines.

“Good job,” Ronin said. “I’ll go next.”

He raised his rifle, gripped it under the barrel, and lined up the sights just below the head of the closest machine at twenty-five meters. Moving his finger toward the trigger, he prepared to pull it when fragmented memories from E-Day surfaced in his mind.

First of his father staying behind. Then of being trapped in the hangar. And finally, when Zachary had…

Ronin let out a scream that no one could hear, his angry voice echoing in his helmet as he fired his first burst. The bolts chiseled into the center of the droid’s face, blowing off its alloy jaw. He swiveled his barrel to the target at fifty meters, lined up the sights, and fired again.

This time, the bolts hammered into the T-section of the chest.

He moved onto the droid seventy-five meters out.

Every shot hit home, drilling through the alloy.

Finally, Ronin lined up the sights on the target at one hundred meters. Just like before, each bolt streaked into the enemy.

He lowered his rifle, examining the damage.

“Nice shooting, Ronin, damn,” Bradley said on the squad channel. “You nearly took the face off the first one.”

“Time for you to finish it off,” Ronin replied.

He moved back to allow Bradley up.

All across the basin, the other squads fired on the machines. The target practice continued with the cadets getting their first taste of shooting on the lunar surface. An hour into the drill, a message broke over the main comms.

“All squads, return to the rigs,” Ortiz said.

The cadets all looked to Ronin.

“You heard her,” he said over the team comm. “On me!”

They started the trek back to the rim, moving fast.

“Is this another test?” Micky asked.

Ronin wasn’t sure. It seemed the LDC liked to throw shit at them, but why interrupt their live fire training?

He led them back across the bottom of the crater toward the sloped rim. On both the right and left flanks, Ronin saw the other cadets making their way up.

Some stopped, looking back over the crater they were leaving behind. Ronin glanced in that direction, following their gaze. Three King Cobra spaceplanes raced across the black. They banked away, heading out toward Kepler Station.

Now he knew this wasn’t a test.

His heart pounded as he made his way up. It was just like his dream.

He moved as fast as he could, practically loping up the incline. Sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eyes.

He thought of Elan and their mother.

That gave him strength.

When he climbed to the top of the crater, the vehicles were still there. He used his HUD to figure out which direction Kepler Station was located, and then turned in that direction, seeing nothing in the black.

The cadets ran across the rocky terrain and piled into the rovers. Ronin took the same seat, strapping in, his heart still pounding. He couldn’t see anything on the ride, but it seemed they were headed back to Kepler based on his HUD’s mini-map.

“Sergeant, do you know what’s going on?” Bradley asked over the platoon channel.

The sergeant didn’t reply, but Ortiz did.

“There’s a shuttle heading toward Kepler,” she said. “It escaped Earth, and command wants all hands on deck just in case this is a trap.”

— 14 —

The group of civilians crowded around Akira as he prepared to leave the shelter under Tokyo with Kichiro and Okami. He held up a comm-pad from Neptune Station to Kichiro, running a diagnostic on his CPU.

Okami sat on his hindlegs, watching the people.

“You just got here, and you’re leaving already?” came a voice.

He turned toward Hina, who now had a bandage over her nose.

“I have to,” he replied.

“You’re going for the Life Ark, aren’t you?” she asked.

Akira didn’t respond and watched the comm-pad. The scan came back clear. His beloved droid horse seemed to be fine and hadn’t suffered any permanent damage from the EMP.

“We’re going to the Life Ark,” boomed out a familiar voice.

Kobe walked up to Akira with a trench coat draped over his left arm and a plasma shotgun in his right hand. The former Yakuza gangster wore a cool-suit to mask his infrared signature. “I’m going to hold you to your promise by coming with and making sure you don’t die.”

“I don’t need your help,” Akira said.

“Maybe not, but I’m going to make sure you keep your word.”

“I’m good for my word.”

“Forgive me if I don’t trust the Nova Alliance.”

“I’ll come too,” Hina said. “You need me out there.”

Kobe laughed. “What I need is for you to listen to a goddamn order for once.”

“I’ll listen this time.”

“I’m better off on my own,” Akira said.

“Looks like we have a predicament then,” Kobe said. “You’re not quite understanding me, Captain.”

Kobe moved in front of them toward the closed metal exit door that Fish was guarding with his two plasma cannons.

“You aren’t leaving here without me,” Kobe said. “Me and Fish.”

Akira took a deep breath, released it, and nodded. “Lead the way.”

“See, I knew you would be reasonable.” Kobe flashed a grin and then put on his gas mask. “The King of Tokyo shall return soon!”

He raised both arms to chants.

The thick doors clanked and groaned as they opened.

Fish started leading them out another concrete tunnel.

Akira took Kichiro by the reins and followed with Okami. They moved in silence for the first few minutes until Kobe looked over a shoulder at Akira.

“We were lucky to find this place,” he said. “A week after E-Day, my surviving associates found a scavenger, and we followed them here. Since then, we’ve made it our own.”

“You’ve done well,” Akira said.

“Not well enough.”

Kobe waited for Akira to catch up.

“So how bad is it out there?” Kobe asked.

“Bad,” Akira said. “That’s why we need this Life Ark.”

“You hear that, Fish?”

The droid halted ahead. “Hear what, your Majesty?”

“Captain Hayashi here is vitally important to the future of the human race, so that means we have to make sure he completes his mission, understood?”

“Understood, we have to protect the deformed turd that fights with the Nova Alliance. You got it, your Esteemed Grace.”

Kobe chuckled and slapped Akira on the shoulder. “See, not all machines are assholes. Some are actually funny.”

Akira didn’t find this sarcastic machine humorous, but he played along with a nod.

“What else can you tell me about these Condas?” he asked. “What exactly are they?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever they are, they move fast, and they can tunnel.”

“The heads… what the hell are those?”

“I don’t know, man. I don’t want to know either.”

Akira considered everything he had discovered since the first mission to Guam. Otto’s technology was advancing at a pace that he never could have expected. First the facilities creating Dreads, then the jellyfish abominations that had tracked the Pelican, and later the superstructures. Now the Condas with human faces. Almost all of these monsters seemed to be hybrid creatures merged with humans and animals.

He thought back to something Otto had once said.

Modify the body, preserve the brain.

Was it possible the snake was a droid, and the faces were really living human heads?

Otto, as vehement as he was about railing against the machines, had been enormously productive as an AI.

“You really got big plans to defeat Otto?” Kobe asked.

“We have a plan.”

“But you’re not going to tell me.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t reveal our strategy.”

“Of course not.”

They finally stopped a half hour after leaving the sanctuary. The tunnels connected to the broken wall of another subway.

“The Life Ark entrance isn’t far,” Kobe said. “They used a train to transport survivors there.”

“Okay.” Akira started to move, but Kobe grabbed his arm.

“This is where shit gets real, Captain. We move slowly and cautiously, and you listen to me, got it?”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“The deal is to keep you alive because you’re so important and all. Which is why your pets can’t tag along.”

Pets, Akira thought. “My droids will not lead the machines to us. They’ve been shielded to appear as enemy droids.”

“What about the other two droids you deployed here? Were they equipped with this same shield?”

“Yes.”

Akira knew how that sounded. He hated to admit that Kobe had a point.

“Fine, Kichiro stays here with Fish. But Okami comes with us.”

Kobe seemed to think on it, then nodded. “The dog’s easier to get rid of, if he becomes a liability. Smaller, easier to hide… sure.”

Kichiro hoofed the air in protest.

“It’s okay, Kichiro,” Akira said. “I’ll be back soon.”

It won’t be like last time, he added in his head. He wouldn’t let the horse get taken again. And perhaps it was better, for that reason, if he left Kichiro behind.

“Fish will take good care of your pet here,” Kobe said. “Don’t worry.”

“Kichiro isn’t a pet,” Akira said.

Okami glared up at Kobe with a slight snarl, clearly picking up on the anger in Akira’s voice.

“I meant family,” Kobe said with a shrug. He pointed through a hole in the wall to the subway. “Tell your fam to lead the way.”

Akira gave the order, and Okami jumped down to the tracks to sniff for hostiles. He returned a few minutes later, tail wagging, indicating they were clear. The two men followed the wolfdog out onto a platform.

Skeletons were sprawled and scattered everywhere, their bones blackened from the wave of fire that had rushed through from the Poseidon Cannon.

A long train blocked the tunnel to the left.

Kobe guided them across the tracks to the adjacent platform. From there, another set of stairs led down to a passage walled off by a mound of rocks, concrete, and dirt.

“I thought you said the subway takes us to the Life Ark,” Akira said.

“Not that track,” Kobe said. “There’s a hidden one below us.”

He scoured the pile and then loosened a rusted hatch. He pulled it away and ducked down to look through an opening. He swung his legs through and dropped into it.

Akira looked down, seeing Kobe had landed on another set of tracks about ten feet below. It was a long drop for someone without augmented bones.

“Up,” Akira said. He reached out and Okami jumped into his arms. Clutching the wolfdog, Akira dropped through next, landing with a thud.

The impact rang down the tunnel.

“Why don’t you just tell the machines we’re down here?” Kobe said.

“I’ll be the one to kill them when they do. Don’t worry.”

Kobe chuckled. “You think I can’t fight?”

“I think you talk too much.”

Akira released Okami onto the tracks as Kobe started jogging ahead, his shotgun in hand. The tunnel was unscathed from the fires, which told Akira maybe the Life Ark had survived after all.

The tracks continued for another two thousand feet, sloping downward. Their flashlight beams flitted over a narrow tunnel, hitting a train ahead.

“This is far as I’ve been,” Kobe said. “But the Life Ark should be close.”

Akira and Kobe both approached with their rifles aimed at the exterior. It was four cars long, with no markings that Akira could see. He did a bio-scan that came back negative. Nothing was alive down here.

Using his right hand, Akira signaled for Kobe to clear that side of the train, while Akira went to the left.

The train appeared empty, which allowed Akira to see directly into the seats. Kobe met Akira at the train engine in the front, looking at the two empty leather seats in the cabin.

The men continued on after Okami. It wasn’t long before their lights hit concrete barriers. A crooked sign hung on a pole that read No Passage. Construction Zone.

Okami wedged through a gap in the barriers to check out the other side while Kobe stopped and waited for Akira.

“Hope you know what you’re doing, ’cause I got a bad feeling what might be waiting ahead,” Kobe said.

“Turn off your light,” Akira said. “Switch to night vision.”

Kobe fished out his optics and pulled them over his face. “I hate these things. Can hardly see shit.”

“Just be quiet and follow me.”

Akira climbed over a barrier as Okami scampered farther down the tunnel. The droid had yet to signal if it had spotted any machines or humans.

Kobe and Akira moved side by side, cautiously, weapons up.

It wasn’t long before Akira lost sight of Okami. The dog vanished around the corner of a T-intersection, but he could still hear the tap of his paws.

Akira ran ahead of Kobe, growing more anxious with every step.

By the time he got to the intersection, Akira could no longer hear Okami.

Rifle shouldered, he moved around the right side of the junction, scanning for the wolfdog. Seeing nothing, he went to clear the left. However, here the ceiling had caved in, leaving an impassable pile of rubble.

Kobe caught up a moment later.

“Slow down, man,” he wheezed.

Akira walked slower to allow Kobe to keep pace. The passage ended about one thousand feet ahead. They were almost there.

From his position, Akira didn’t see any blast doors, or anything to indicate an entrance to a Life Ark. Nor did he see Okami. But the dog couldn’t have just vanished.

Akira and Kobe arrived at the end of the tunnel a few minutes later. There was a turn they hadn’t seen earlier, and around the corner, was a gargantuan blast door.

“That’s it,” Kobe said. “The Life Ark.”

In the center of the door, AAS was etched into the metal.

“How the hell are we supposed to get through here?” Kobe said. “And where’s your little pe… friend?”

Akira scanned the wall, ceiling, ground, but saw nothing to indicate a secret passage to the Life Ark besides this blast door. He switched on his ground-penetrating radar.

Sure enough, they were right on top of a major chamber. They just had to find the damn door inside.

Tapping paws echoed from behind them. Akira looked around but didn’t see Okami. The clatter seemed to be coming from beyond the wall.

He put his helmet against the concrete, confirming the droid was on the other side.

“He’s inside,” Akira whispered.

They followed the noise back around the corner and into the original passage. Moving slowly this time, Akira finally spotted what he had missed before.

A small vent. Big enough for a dog, but not a person.

Akira bent down, peering inside. Okami was standing in the passage beyond, tail wagging.

“No way we can get through there,” Kobe said.

Akira tapped his comm-pad with orders for Okami to open the main blast door. The droid took off.

He returned to the blast door around the corner with Kobe, their rifles aimed at it as Okami searched for a way into the facility.

“You really think this is gonna–” Kobe didn’t finish his sentence.

The blast door hissed as the hydraulics began whining to life.

Akira backed up and motioned for Kobe to do the same. They retreated to the corner, just in case.

Metallic clanks and thuds resonated through the tunnel as the blast door slowly opened. The noise was loud enough to make the hair stand up on his neck. If there were machines down here, they would hear the door.

“We have to move fast,” Akira said. “Unless you can’t keep up and want to stay behind.”

“Screw you, man,” Kobe said. “I give the orders… but you go first.”

Okami padded through the open door. His tail was curled down.

“Careful,” Akira said. “Okami senses something.”

The two men advanced slowly into a lobby. A banner hung from a central desk that read, Welcome to Life Ark Tokyo.

Okami walked around it toward a pair of glass doors that overlooked six floors.

Akira kept his rifle up as he approached.

The main chamber on the other side was hardly visible even with his INVS eyes, but Akira could see enough to know what had Okami on edge.

The gardens that were once lush and beautiful were filled with drooping and dead plants. Trees that rose out of the central atrium had burned, skeletal branches charcoaled to a crisp.

A meandering water feature trailing through the gardens was filled with dozens of bodies. More of the dead were draped over the railings of other floors.

“What is it?” Kobe asked. He stepped up, trying to see through.

“Everyone’s dead,” Akira replied.

“So whoever we came here to rescue is dead too, huh?”

“Not someone. Something.”

Akira reached for the door handle and opened it to the platform. They were on the seventh floor with a direct view of the entire chamber. Overturned park benches and shattered pots littered the communal space.

Eateries, bars, and shops were shot up everywhere on the bottom floors. Not a single intact window remained besides the one Akira stood behind.

Every single apartment inside the chamber was damaged or destroyed.

Kobe moved over to the railing, finally seeing the gruesome scene.

“Yup, pretty much as I expected,” he said. “Hope the Canebrakes and other droids that did this are gone. Or maybe not, because I’d love to fucking tear them apart like they—”

“Quiet,” Akira said.

Okami sniffed at the end of the platform where a rope with a hook was latched around the railing. A pair of hands gripped the bottom bars.

Akira leaned down, seeing the hands were connected to arms, but nothing else. He glanced over the side. The body lay on the ground below.

The poor bastard had tried to escape. And while he had failed, he had given the men an easy way down.

Akira swung his legs over the other side.

“You serious?” Kobe asked.

“Like I said, you can stay behind, but we’re finishing what we came here for.”

Akira slid down the rope using one arm to hold Okami tight to his chest. As soon as his boots hit the ground, he let the dog go.

Okami went down on his hind legs, watching Kobe as he struggled to get down the rope. Once he hit the ground, they advanced.

“So you going to tell me what we’re extracting?” Kobe asked in a whisper. “Some fancy tech? A weapon?”

“Both,” Akira replied.

“You’re assuming the machines actually left something like that behind.”

Akira activated the ground-penetrating radar again, and studied the levels below them, counting a total of ten floors. According to Hayao and Juno, the backup where Apeiron was stored would be with the servers. They didn’t know exactly where that would be, but guessed they would be somewhere beneath the main floors.

He searched the open space until he saw a utility door.

Akira navigated through the field of death on his way there.

Okami stopped at the door. It was slightly ajar. Bloody prints marked the exterior where someone had opened it to flee inside.

Akira went down into the stairwell, greeted by another corpse at the bottom landing. Apple-sized black holes marred their back where plasma bolts had chewed into their flesh.

The first floor down was the water treatment center. The tanks were offline, silent.

Beneath that was a passage with viewports along the sides of the long hallway. On the right side was a vast hydroponic garden, all shriveled and dead. On the left were long sheds that had housed livestock. The machines hadn’t even spared the animals. Decomposing carcasses of pigs, cows, and chickens lay throughout the football-field-sized room.

Not far away, fields under broken grow lights revealed more burned crops.

It was scorched-earth warfare.

Kill everyone you can, and then destroy the food so anyone that finds this place won’t get the resources.

Akira wasn’t surprised.

The machines were doing what they were programmed to do.

He halted when he heard a distant rattle. Okami growled, dropping low.

But this wasn’t the distinct rattlesnake-like chatter of the Canebrakes.

This was something else.

“Condas,” Kobe whispered. “We have to hide.”

The macabre screams of the human faces, or whatever they were, filled the otherwise silent facility.

Kobe motioned for Akira to follow him back up into the stairwell.

“You want to fight this beast?” Akira asked.

“I told you to listen to me.”

Akira tensed up at the approaching screeching voices. Okami paced, letting out a whine.

They rushed back up a floor to the water treatment plant. Kobe went right to the platform that stretched over the long, dark tanks. Several corpses floated in the water.

“Jump,” he said.

“What?” Akira asked.

Kobe hopped over the side, splashing into the water.

The ripple spread across the water. Akira stepped up to the edge of the tank.

A woman, face down, drifted over to the side.

Okami whined louder as the chorus of horrifying screams flooded into the room. Kobe surfaced, looking up at Akira.

“Can’t you swim? Let’s go, man,” he said.

Akira prepared to jump.

He hoped Kobe knew what he was doing.

— 15 —

A distant alarm wailed through the underground train station at Kepler Station.

Chloe sat in a cargo car of the train with Tadhg and Cyrus. They watched a group of five troopers on the platform outside. Three were standing guard near an exit, the other two were patrolling.

“They’re onto us,” Cyrus said. “They know we’re on the train.”

“Then why wouldn’t they just board and take us?” Tadhg asked. “This must be something else.”

“An attack?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t think so, or those walking metal turds would be acting a lot more nervous.”

Chloe hoped Tadhg was right.

She couldn’t help but feel completely helpless. The train had docked an hour ago, but was still stuck on the tracks, the doors all closed. An announcement had come over the intercom system for all passengers and crew to stay on board.

“I thought someone was going to be waiting for us here,” Chloe said.

“It could be one of those troopers, or maybe they got reassigned because of whatever’s happening topside,” Tadhg said.

Chloe exchanged a nervous glance with Cyrus.

“Don’t you guys worry,” Tadhg said. “We’ll figure it out.”

Tadhg kept looking out the viewports, adjusting his hat.

After a few more minutes of waiting, he stood and went to the hatch.

“What are you doing?” Cyrus asked.

“I’m going to find out what’s going on,” Tadhg said.

“We’re coming with you then,” Chloe said.

Tadhg turned toward her. “No, you two stay here and wait for me to come back.”

He left the train car without another word.

“Guy’s a loose cannon,” Cyrus said. “He might end up getting us killed.”

“Give him a chance,” Chloe said. “He’s risking his neck for us.”

“He’s also getting a ride back to Earth. He’s been dying to go back for his squad this whole time. Make no mistake, he isn’t doing this just to help us, Chloe.”

She frowned, but didn’t argue. He could have his opinion, and she could have her own.

“Do you know what they’ll do to you if they catch you?” he asked.

“Yes.” She bowed her head, thinking of her time in prison and how the LDC dusted all the other hybrids.

“I’m sorry, but that’s why we can’t take chances,” Cyrus said.

She went to stand in front of the viewport. The two troopers on patrol walked over toward the train.

The hatch opened, startling Chloe. She turned as Tadhg walked inside.

“Found out what’s up,” he said. “A shuttle just landed from Earth.”

“From Earth?” Cyrus asked.

Chloe could hardly believe it. “Survivors?”

“I don’t know. Might also be a trick. The whole station is on high alert.”

“That’s not good,” Cyrus said.

“Actually, it might be good for us.”

“How do you figure?” Cyrus asked.

“Because they’re distracted.” Tadhg grinned. “They’ll be so focused on what’s happening outside the station, they won’t think to look inside. Now follow me, and remember to act normal.”

They shuffled off the train. Outside, the wail of the alarm had ceased. Voices drifted over the platform where people were gathering. Two troopers were already looking at the IDs and travel papers of everyone exiting.

Chloe tensed up as she made their way through a line.

“Move along,” one of the troopers called out. He directed his visor at Tadhg, who towered over everyone else by almost a foot.

“ID,” said the soldier.

Tadhg held it up for the man, showing his picture. The guard studied it a long beat, almost like he recognized Tadhg. He looked from the ID to Tadhg, then back to the ID.

Chloe noticed Tadhg’s right droid hand balling into a fist beneath the glove.

The trooper finally handed the ID back.

“Thanks, pal,” Tadhg said.

Cyrus went up next, followed up by Chloe.

“You three, come with me,” the trooper said.

Tadhg gave Cyrus and Chloe an approving nod. The rest of the passengers and crew fanned out across the platform to the exits while they followed this trooper.

Once they were around the pillars in a private section of the concourse, the soldier stopped. He reached into a vest over his armor, pulling out a comm-pad.

“This will get you to Hangar 30 where three MOTHs are grounded for maintenance,” he said. “It’s five floors above us. Take the interior stairwells and follow the signs.”

He handed the comm-pad to Chloe.

“You come with me,” the trooper said to Tadhg. “I’ll take you to the prison.”

“We’re supposed to stick together,” Cyrus said.

“That’s not going to be possible,” the man replied. “We’ve got to split up. Can’t look so obviously out of place.”

“Fine,” Tadhg said. “We’ll do it your way. I’ll meet you two at Hangar 30 with Captain Harback in twenty-five minutes. Until then, find a place to hide.”

Cyrus looked uncertain, but Chloe felt this was the only way.

“Good luck, Tadhg,” she said.

“You too, kid.”

They parted ways, and for the first time since E-Day, Chloe made her way up into Kepler Station. She thought about her uncle on the way. Would she ever see him again?

It was probably a long shot, but her best chance of reuniting with him again was by delivering the virus she carried in her pocket. Only then could they end the war and destroy Otto.

Cyrus opened a door to an interior stairwell. They started up the five floors. At the fourth landing, he stopped and turned, a hand stretched out.

“Whatever happens, I want you to know something, Chloe,” he said. “I love you. I’ll do anything for you. I mean anything.”

Chloe reached out and hugged him, pulling him tight. “I love you too.”

When they parted, Chloe led the way to the fifth and final landing. They stayed there, watching the clock. Twenty minutes after leaving Tadhg, she grabbed the door handle and opened it.

Two Naval officers suddenly burst down the hallway.

Chloe pulled back, but more followed. This time, heavy boots and armor.

The clank and clatter and thuds almost sounded like machines running. Chloe let the door shut almost all the way. She peered through the gap as three behemoth soldiers ran past the door in Juggernaut suits.

“Heavy armor,” Cyrus said. “Something else must be happening; come on, stay behind me.”

He led the way into the corridor. When they rounded the corner, an alarm suddenly wailed.

The lights flickered off, shrouding them in darkness.

Chloe reached for Cyrus, finding his hand.

Red emergency lights clicked on in the ceiling, flooding the hallway with an eerie glow.

“This is a level 3 lockdown,” came a voice over the PA system. “All essential personnel report to your stations. Non-essential, report to the closest bunker.”

“Shit,” Cyrus said. “We have to move.”

He pulled on Chloe, and off they went, running down the hallway. The first hangar was alive with activity. Crews abandoned their work on MOTHs, fleeing to their bunkers. Shouting came from the next docking bay.

A group of technicians ran into the passage, and then into a T-intersection ahead. Cyrus followed them past a sign that read: Hangars 15-30.

Chloe noticed a door opening ahead. A service tech held it open. Behind him, a group of people huddled in a recessed space packed with supplies. That was one of the bunkers designed to serve as a life pod during an attack.

She and Cyrus kept running. Hangars 20 and 21 were just ahead.

Two troopers cut ahead of them.

“Hurry! He’s heading for a MOTH!” one called out.

Cyrus halted and looked to Chloe.

“They must mean him,” Cyrus said.

Tadhg, Chloe realized.

The hiss of plasma weapons filled the facility along with panicked shouts and a cry of pain.

Cyrus slowed down as they approached the entrance to Hangar 30. The wide-open doors on the west side allowed them a sprawling view of the room where three MOTHs sat.

On the east side of the room, about two hundred feet from the MOTHs, two men were crouched behind supply crates stacked four high. The crates hardly covered one of the men, a hulking guy in armor that had to be Tadhg.

The seven-foot-tall Engine had somehow managed to find armor and a helmet. He was also armed with an energy sword and rifle.

Next to him, a man in a jumpsuit was on a knee.

That had to be their pilot, Captain Jake Harback.

Tadhg popped up and fired at a group of ten troopers advancing through the hangar toward him. They all ducked behind the cover of the massive open doorway.

“Stay close to me,” Cyrus said. He started toward the MOTHs, as the clatter of reinforcements sounded in the hallway behind them.

Chloe glanced over her shoulder. A second security team of troopers ran toward the western side of the room from the same passage she had just come from.

They were going to flank Tadhg and Harback.

Cyrus pulled her behind the first of the three MOTHs, and Chloe joined him, hoping they were unseen by the team.

A voice crackled over the PA system. “Put down your weapons; you are completely surrounded.”

“Fuck you, Thacker!” Tadhg shouted. “You killed everyone in Rose Colony, you piece of fucking shit!”

He rose up again, firing more bolts at the troopers on the eastern side.

“I ain’t the enemy, you pencil-neck fucks!” Tadhg yelled. “Thacker is a murderer and a coward! He killed everyone at Rose Colony.”

Pounding feet sounded behind Chloe. She looked around a wing of the MOTH to see the second security team of six troopers preparing to circle around Tadhg.

“Hey!” Chloe shouted.

Tadhg turned and then unleashed a burst at the approaching troopers. They scattered for cover to avoid the bolts.

“Get inside the MOTH!” Tadhg shouted.

She and Cyrus darted toward the spacecraft closest to Tadhg.

At first, it seemed the troopers behind her didn’t know what was going on, but when Chloe rounded the middle MOTH, one shouted.

“Stop them!”

Cyrus pulled Chloe behind a wing as plasma bolts shot across the room, pounding the ground and wall.

Harback made a run for the ramp of the MOTH closest to him. Shots chased the man, but he made it inside as they grazed the exterior of the craft.

Chloe cupped her hands over her ears as the loud boom of gunfire erupted in all directions.

It was about to get worse.

She froze at the sight of the three Juggernaut mech soldiers she’d seen earlier. They moved into the room, raising arms equipped with plasma cannons toward the crate Tadhg was crouched behind.

“Tadhg!” Chloe shouted.

He got up and let loose a blinding storm of fire at the security team on the western side, moving along the MOTHs.

“No, behind you!” Chloe shouted.

Tadhg dove away from his cover as the Juggernaut mechs opened fire.

All six cannons belched bolts into the supply crates, which burst into flying chunks of shrapnel. A growling wave of fire and smoke slammed into Tadhg, knocking him to the ground. He slid on his stomach, his back armor smoking. The rifle was a few feet away from him, but he still held his energy sword.

Chloe watched in horror as the three mammoth soldiers advanced, their cannon barrels glowing orange.

“Put down your weapon,” one said over the speakers in his suit.

Ten troopers from the east and west swarmed Tadhg. He pushed himself up as they moved in to restrain him. He kicked one, sending the man flying backward. Then he swung his energy sword to force the group back.

Two of the soldiers grabbed him from behind, each holding on to an arm. Neither of them had any idea they weren’t actually holding his real arms.

Tadhg let out a roar as he yanked the limbs free. He strode forward, throwing a right and left hook that knocked both soldiers to the ground like sacks of potatoes. Cracks echoed from his next two punches.

Troopers crumpled around him, one by one.

The five still standing retreated as the three Juggernauts walked forward.

Tadhg held up his fists, chest heaving.

“Come on, you pussies!” he shouted.

“Tadhg! Run!” Chloe shouted.

He looked back at her and Cyrus as they snuck up the ramp.

Two plasma turrets rotated away from the lower wings.

The three Juggernauts all backed up, but it was already too late. The cannons burst to life, bolts pounding into them, pumping holes into their suits. Fire erupted from the wounds, followed by three tremendous explosions. The suits were torn apart in their self-destructive blasts, limbs and armor plates skidding across the room.

Chloe and Cyrus ran up into the MOTH.

Tadhg wasn’t far behind.

As the ramp closed, Chloe heard the same familiar voice from the PA system earlier. Only this time, it was coming from the hangar.

She looked out a porthole as War Commander Thacker arrived with an entourage of Royal Troopers, all dressed in black armor, his own personal honor guard of special forces.

“Stop them!” Thacker shouted.

The thrusters on the MOTH pre-fired, blowing the closest troopers to the ground.

Chloe moved up into the cockpit with Cyrus and Tadhg. Strapped into one of the leather chairs was Captain Jake Harback. He was glancing up through the cockpit glass at the closed shield doors above them.

Then he went back to tapping the dashboard and flipping switches. The hull shook violently as the ship prepared to blastoff.

Chloe looked out a viewport on the side of the cockpit.

Thacker raised a rifle, unleashing a storm of bolts at the MOTH. The other soldiers joined the assault, painting the armored hull with bolts, each shot ringing like drops from a heavy rain.

“Don’t worry; those guns can’t hurt us in here,” Tadhg said.

“Yeah, but not if we don’t get out of here,” Cyrus said.

“How do we get the shield doors to open?” Chloe asked.

“Leave that to me,” Jake said.

Chloe and Cyrus did exactly that while Tadhg got into the secondary pilot’s seat.

He flipped a few buttons, and then missiles streaked away from unseen tubes, slamming into the shield doors above.

“You might want to strap in,” Jake said.

The MOTH jerked, and then lifted off.

When the smoke and flames retreated, Chloe saw the shield doors were gone.

He lifted up on the controls, flying the MOTH toward the vertical shaft above. Chloe tightened her straps, looking out the viewport to her left as they escaped the hangar.

Most of the troopers below had fled as the doors started to close. But one stood in the entry, still firing.

Bolts slammed into the glass, making Chloe flinch.

It was War Commander Thacker.

Two of his troopers pulled him away before the doors could crush him.

The MOTH entered the shaft and she lost sight of him.

“One more door until we’re out…” Jake said. “Close those eyes again, about to get…”

Another missile shot upward, exploding against the next shield door.

Pieces of metal pounded the cockpit as the MOTH climbed, and then burst out. Chloe didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she let it out.

She looked to the left and then down, as they rose above Kepler Station. A sprawling view of the basin and the ejecta around Kepler Crater came into view.

“Bye, Uncle Keanu,” she whispered. “Good luck.”

The MOTH pulled over a runway lit up with blue plasma lights. On it sat a shuttle with dozens of vehicles surrounding it. They flew over it, and then the stretch of basin where they had boarded the underground train.

An alarm rang out somewhere in the cockpit.

“Shit, we’re not out of this yet,” Jake said.

Cyrus pointed out the other side of the cockpit. “Those turrets, watch out!”

“They’re going to shoot us down?” Chloe asked.

“To kill me, you better believe it,” Tadhg said.

“Not if I can help it,” Jake said.

He pulled up hard, and then swerved the MOTH right toward the main command tower. The red light continued flashing on the control panel, and Chloe now saw why.

Turrets and cannons were following the MOTH from adjacent rooftops, ready to atomize them.

Chloe held in a breath again. She looked over at Cyrus.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you…”

Jake flew right toward the main control tower.

“Shoot on me, now, assholes!” he shouted.

Chloe closed her eyes, unable to watch.

“Yee-fucking-haw!” Jake shouted.

“You crazy son of a bitch!” Tadhg yelled back.

Chloe opened her eyes to see they had flown over the command tower, avoiding the fire of the turrets and cannons.

The MOTH dipped low, blasting over the surface and away from the base. The red warning light had stopped blinking, and the alarm had gone off, but they weren’t free yet.

“Oh shit, we’re about to have a major problem,” Jake said. “King Cobra Spaceplanes.”

“We can’t outrun those,” Tadhg said.

“I know.”

“Then do something!”

“Shut up, man! I’m trying to think!”

A voice surged over the comms.

“Hailing the occupants of—”

The voice cut off, replaced with Thacker’s voice, shaking with rage.

“Turn that MOTH around now, or my pilots will destroy you,” he said. “You have ten seconds to respond.”

Jake and Tadhg exchanged a glance.

“Do not even think about turning us around,” Tadhg said.

“So I can rot in a jail cell? I’d rather go down in a hail of plasma bolts, brother,” Jake said.

“That’s going to happen if you don’t do something!” Cyrus shouted.

“Five seconds,” Thacker said over the comms.

Tadhg tapped the dashboard.

“Hailing war criminal Andrew Thacker,” he said. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you, but if I make it back, you have my word, I’ll rip off your feet and smack your teeth out with them before I stick them down your lying gullet. Over.”

There was a crackle on the other end, and heavy breathing, but then the line severed.

“Smart,” Jake said with a nod. “Very smart pissing him off now.”

The King Cobras gained on them, moving in for the kill.

“We have to shoot them,” Tadhg said. “Show me how to turn on those turrets.”

Jake flicked a few buttons, bringing on the weapon’s system. The turrets on the wings rotated on the port and starboard side.

The pilot hesitated. “What if he’s bluffing?” he asked.

“He’s not, trust me,” Tadhg said. “We shoot and they will pull back. I almost guarantee it.”

“Almost…” Jake shook his head. “Screw it.”

He tapped the screen and the turrets flashed to life.

Chloe focused on the sliver of Earth as the MOTH began to spiral while firing.

She felt her stomach churn.

“Please, please, let me get home.”

She wasn’t sure who she was talking to. Definitely not a god. Not Apeiron either.

Pretty much just anyone or anything that would listen.

The G-forces intensified as the MOTH spun. Every organ in Chloe’s body seemed to press against her spine. Nausea gripped her as the weight of the intensive maneuvers shoved her back into her seat.

Suddenly, all that weight lifted.

“They’re backing off!” Jake shouted.

“I told you!” Tadhg laughed. “Thacker’s a little bitch and won’t risk one of his precious spaceplanes to kill us.”

“Probably thinks we’re already dead, considering where I’m flying.”

The MOTH pulled out of the spin and slowly evened out.

Chloe groaned, unable to form a sentence.

“Everyone okay?” Jake asked like it was no big deal. He flipped more switches and then turned to look at them.

“Amazing flying,” Tadhg said.

He got out of his seat, staggering behind Jake, and then patting him on the shoulder.

“You’re the best damn pilot of the Nova Alliance,” Tadhg said.

“I’m the only damn pilot of the Nova Alliance,” Jake replied. “Now I’d suggest you sit back down, and stay seated. Because if you thought that was bad, just wait until we get to Earth.”

— 16 —

Drool ran down his chin as Jackson tried to fight off the pain from the worms. The little monsters went dormant under his skin again, giving him a few minutes of reprieve.

His blurred vision cleared to their handiwork. Bloody trails carved his flesh from his chest to his feet.

Jackson let out a groan.

His nerves burned from the near constant torture, followed by waves of intense ecstasy. The pleasure actually made the pain worse. Every muscle fiber in his body felt ready to snap.

He looked up at the damaged hull above him where he had watched the shuttle taking off from the mountain. He wasn’t sure if the refugees had made it to the moon or if Otto had destroyed it after all. He wasn’t even sure how long it had been since they launched, or how much time since his capture.

There was still moonlight coming in, but that told him nothing. For all he knew, it was the same night he was brought here.

But he was pretty sure about one thing—if Otto knew about the Neptune Research Center at the Mariana Trench, the AI wouldn’t be wasting time torturing him.

Jackson had to stay strong for as long as possible.

He shifted his gaze from his wounds to the prisoners across the chamber, until he saw what was left of the fisherman.

From what Jackson could tell, the poor soul was unconscious.

Or dead.

Jackson hoped it was the latter.

The spiked drone suddenly zoomed overhead.

Needles poked out of the bottom of the prickly drone. A red light speared out of the opening that had disgorged the worms. The light formed a triangle that flitted up and down until it locked onto his right eye.

Jackson reared his head back against the pod.

“No, shit, no,” he stammered.

“I can make it all stop,” Otto said.

Jackson looked for the AI, but the hologram was nowhere in sight.

“Just tell me where to find Captain Akira Hayashi and your Command, and I’ll set you free,” Otto said. “I promise.”

Jackson swallowed bloody saliva down his scratchy throat, raw from his screams.

“No,” Otto said. “Then maybe it’s time to try something new.”

All at once, a flock of drones flew out of their racks toward victims across the chamber. The cries and wails of the other tortured souls rose into a jarring orchestra of pain as the machines went to work.

Jackson looked back to the fisherman. The man’s mouth was open, his face twisted in agony.

“Your silence is the reason for their suffering,” Otto said. “I can make it all end in the blink of an eye.”

Jackson fought hard against his restraints. “You bastard!”

He thrashed and bucked, desperate to free himself. The effort paid off as he felt one loosen slightly around his arm, just enough that he could raise his shoulder out.

The drone’s needle buzzed toward his eye. He tried to close his eyelids, but the drone used a clamp to keep them open. He held in a scream as the needle pierced his eyeball.

It retracted, then hovered over his body to select the next target. Another triangular red light flittered toward his groin.

“Ugh,” Jackson groaned.

In his good eye, he saw the drones suddenly retreating from the other pods.

“You disappoint me and impress me at the same time,” Otto said. “I once offered Captain Hayashi the opportunity to lead my legions. Maybe I should have made that offer to you. You might be even stronger.”

Jackson closed his burning eye, feeling it swelling.

A vibration shook the tower, rattling his pod.

“That sound means your time is up,” Otto said. “My work here is almost done, and soon we’ll be moving on.”

Another violent quake shuttered through the structure.

Jackson looked up through the gaping hole near the top. A red light glowed in the dark sky, illuminating the bulbous bow of a descending Hunter Ship. Hanging from the bottom of the teardrop mid-section were new legs intended to replace the ones Jackson had destroyed.

“Soon this Harvester will be on the move again,” Otto said. He hovered right in front of the pod, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m going to share something with you now so you understand something—something that should help you understand why you have no choice but to give up the information I want and join me.”

Jackson closed his swollen, throbbing eye and focused with his other on the AI.

“The Harvesters aren’t just used to merge man and machine into one species,” Otto said. “It’s to ensure our long-term survival. You see, while I assume you are logical, most humans are not. For centuries, we killed one another over land, resources, religion…”

A platform lowered from cables, right through the hologram of the AI.

“Meet the future of humanity and the latest generation of Dreads,” Otto said.

The hologram hovered over to a pod rising up on a platform. The lip popped open, mist hissing out. Out of the pod stood a pale man, black fluid oozing down his flesh like tar. Tubes protruded out of a metal mask covering his mouth.

The six-foot-tall man bent over, a rigid spinal column poking out of his flesh. He directed bloodshot eyes at Jackson.

“You, and your friend can join this elite warrior,” Otto said.

“Friend…” Jackson whispered.

The highly modified human was lowered out of sight on the platform. A robotic arm unfolded from the silo wall with a metal claw.

In his good eye, Jackson saw a figure wrapped inside it.

His stomach twisted, bile rising.

No…

Tumea.

“Your friend here has agreed to transcend,” Otto said.

Jackson blinked, trying to get a good view. But even in his blurred vision, he could tell, this was definitely Tumea. But he didn’t want to believe she’d given up. No way.

The claw opened, dangling her upside down in front of Jackson. She was naked, her skin covered in ash and grit.

“Jackson,” she grunted through clenched teeth.

“Ah, so that’s your name,” Otto said.

Jackson studied Tumea.

Was this really her? Or was it a trick?

Of course, he had never seen her naked before, but the eyes staring at him were an exact match. So was the nose, lips, and high cheekbones.

“Do… what… it…” she mumbled. “Asks of you…”

One of her eyelids twitched. Was that a blink? Was she trying to communicate something to him? Or was he just as screwed up and delirious as he felt?

“Why do you want to know where Command is on Earth when you should be worried about the Lunar Defense Corps?” Jackson asked, buying time.

The AI moved back in front of his pod as the tower shook.

A loud grinding sound tremored through the hull, followed by metallic tapping that seemed to be coming from behind Jackson. He guessed it was Hummer Droid workers repairing the tower.

“The Lunar Defense Corps is weak,” Otto said. “Once my armada of Harvesters and my legion of Dreads are complete, they will have no choice but to surrender. Especially when they see my hordes firsthand.”

Jackson tried to make sense of what he was hearing. It took a few beats before he understood.

The Harvesters were heading to the moon.

Jackson looked back at the fisherman.

He knew he would be next… there was just no way he could hold out against such horrific torture. Not even his training prepared him for the pain that the worms could inflict.

His gaze shifted back to Tumea.

“That’s interesting,” Otto said suddenly.

The AI hovered up toward Tumea. “You care for this woman, don’t you?” he asked. “A woman that was once your mortal enemy.”

Jackson shook his head.

“Your eyes do not lie,” Otto said.

“You’re wrong,” Jackson said as convincingly as he could. “I couldn’t give a shit about Coalition scum.”

“Then I guess you won’t care if I rip her in half…” Otto smiled from ear to ear and raised a finger. “Or maybe she would be better off like the prisoner you keep looking at… The other pet of mine you seem to have feelings for.”

The AI gestured to the fisherman.

Tumea winked at Jackson in that split second. The most discreet wink he had ever seen, but it was no doubt a wink this time. Then she moved her lips.

Friends are coming…

Jackson felt his heart leap.

If that were true, then he just needed to survive a little longer.

“Okay, you’re right,” Jackson said. “I have a decision. Torture and death or join forces with you like Tumea did.”

Otto turned back to Jackson and lifted a brow. “Yes, you don’t need to tell me what we’ve already established. What I want to hear is your response.”

Jackson swallowed hard like he hated what he was about to say. Which was true if he had meant it. “I’ll join you and I’ll take you to our command.”

“No, you will tell me where it is. I don’t need you to lead me anywhere.”

Jackson considered his options. He could give Otto the real location of a classified Nova Alliance base. But chances were the machines had already destroyed it and knew there was no one left.

If he lied and Otto knew the truth, then he would lose his one chance to delay his and Tumea’s terrible fate long enough to escape.

He decided to make up a completely new location instead. It was still a gamble—and there was a good chance Otto would be able to quickly confirm Jackson was lying—but he had no other good option.

“I’ve never been there personally,” Jackson said. “But command is somewhere under the ocean off the coast of Hawaii.”

“Specifics, Jackson. I need specifics. The ocean is a large place.”

“I don’t know specifics.”

The claw holding Tumea released one of her feet. She dangled from the other ankle, swinging over the chamber.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” the AI said.

“Honolulu,” Jackson said. “Command is spread out there. Part in the ocean, part under a volcanic field.”

“If you’re wasting my precious time, the next time you see your friend, she’ll be in pieces, and you’ll have so many worms devouring your body, you won’t be able to see your own flesh.”

Otto vanished and the glass sealed over Jackson’s coffin once again.

The robotic claw moved Tumea right in front of the lid.

Soon the AI would return, but Jackson had bought them precious moments.

Tumea gave him a look filled with understanding. Maybe even hope.

Jackson took in a deep breath, picturing his deceased comrades from the Fire Snakes.

Memories of combat flashed by from years of serving together. Fighting together. Bleeding together. They were inseparable on the battlefield and off. All bachelors, none had experienced the joy of a wife and kids.

They were each other’s family.

There were so many good memories, but right now, all he could think about was how their lives had ended.

For some reason, he was the only one that got to live.

This wasn’t the time to rest. This was the time to fight.

After a quick scan for Otto and the drones, Jackson began to try and free his arms from the straps over his chest. He choked out a muffled cry from nearly pulling an arm out of its socket.

As the pain subsided, he used his free hand to get his other arm out.

A rush of dizziness passed over him.

When it passed, he looked up. The sun was beaming through the damaged hull, warming his face.

In the glow, Jackson saw the face of a droid with an oddly shaped face.

No, no, this wasn’t a droid.

This was the helmet of a soldier with two tusks.

Colonel Boar dropped a rope down into the chamber.

Explosions suddenly rocked the tower. The claw holding Tumea swung wildly.

Jackson pushed the pod lid open.

It was indeed time to fight.

***

“Keep moving,” Zlaner said.

The Machine Slayers marched across the enclosed bridge connecting three of the aboveground concourses at Kepler Station. They were on the eastern edge of the base, not far from the landing sector where hundreds of shuttles had set down on E-Day.

Now there was just one and it had the entire base on full alert.

The viewports on both sides of the bridge gave Ronin a view of the ground, but he had yet to see the craft.

On his left, a pair of cannon turrets angled toward the darkness of space beyond Kepler Station. Three King Cobra Spaceplanes returned, two with damaged wings. Ronin stopped to watch the spacecraft as they soared over the station.

He still couldn’t believe what they had just witnessed.

A MOTH lifting off from one of the aboveground hangars and then escaping into space and heading to Earth was the last thing he thought he would see. Rumors about what was happening drifted from trooper to trooper. Paranoia had ripped through the station, putting everyone on edge.

Even Zlaner seemed anxious.

“Halt,” he called out.

Ronin stopped on the bridge with Micky and Bradley, while the rest of the platoon moved to viewports overlooking the runway to the right where the corvette was parked. It was a mid-sized shuttle, much smaller than the military corvette Ronin had taken on E-Day.

“How the hell did it escape?” Bradley asked.

A dozen of the Juggernaut mech soldiers were on the ground, holding sentry around the shuttle.

War Commander Thacker clearly wasn’t buying the narrative that this spacecraft had simply outrun the machines. While the shuttle had been authorized to land, they weren’t letting off any of the passengers.

A few plasma scars marred the hull, indicating that maybe its escape hadn’t been so clean after all. Then again, it could just be part of the disguise to get it here, although he doubted that trick would work.

“Troopers are currently onboard, scanning passengers,” Zlaner said. “For now, we wait here and hold security.”

“Probably some droids in there,” Micky said. “You know, built to look like us, so we let ’em in here to slaughter everyone.”

“That technology doesn’t exist,” Bradley said.

Micky raised a brow. “You sure about that?”

“Quiet,” Zlaner said. He walked down the bridge, heading for Ortiz, who was talking to a Naval officer.

“This could be how it starts,” Micky whispered.

“Now that I think about it, what if the people on that MOTH knew something we don’t?” Bradley asked.

He shifted from Micky to Ronin.

“What do you mean?” Ronin asked.

“Maybe they know what’s coming,” Bradley said. “Maybe they think Earth is actually safer than here.”

“That’s nuts,” Micky said.

“Maybe they weren’t headed for Earth, maybe they went somewhere else,” Bradley said. “Like a mining colony or something.”

Ronin hadn’t considered that.

For the next hour, the platoon stood there, waiting and watching the shuttle. Finally, the side hatch on the port side opened. A trooper emerged, then started down the ramp.

“Okay, listen up!” Ortiz shouted. “I just got word they are going to start evacuating passengers from the shuttle. We’re on security detail.”

Micky raised his rifle and leaned over to Ronin and Bradley.

“Get ready,” Micky said. “I don’t trust these people for a second.”

An aboveground pressurized tube extended toward the shuttle from the concourses. It latched on around the hatch that the trooper had just exited.

“The passengers are going to cross through these bridges,” Ortiz said. “Our job is to make sure everyone gets safely to their destination.”

The Machine Slayers were just one platoon of many assigned to security. But they were the only cadets from what Ronin could tell. He suspected the reason they were here was because they were close by for their training exercise.

The door to the next concourse opened, revealing ten troopers standing guard in the open room. Beyond them, another bridge connected to the final concourse where the passengers were heading.

Another group of twenty troopers stood guard there.

That door opened too, disgorging two Juggernaut mechs.

“Here they come,” Bradley said.

The hulking mechs blocked the refugees mostly from view, but Ronin could see people walking. He noticed short legs and then…

Kids.

Fifty of them, maybe more, the youngest ones clinging to the older kids. A few teenagers carried babies in their arms. All wore filthy clothes covered in ash. Fearful eyes flitted back and forth as they began to pass. But none of these kids were crying.

They all seemed relieved to be here.

To have escaped the machines.

Ronin could only imagine what they had been through. Some of the kids had bandages wrapped around their limbs or heads. Others had bruises or scabs and scratches.

Strangely, Ronin had yet to see any adults, until he looked back to the entrance to the tube they had used. A group of older refugees huddled behind a wall of troopers as the kids were escorted away. Troopers began binding their wrists together.

Ortiz came walking back into the tunnel and over to Zlaner. She said something that Ronin couldn’t hear.

A few minutes later, the mechs started down the bridge with the adults in tow.

“Keep alert,” Zlaner said.

The adults slogged forward. They appeared in far worse shape than the kids. Many of them coughed and limped in the nearly two hundred strong group. The first of the refugees trudged past Ronin. Their tattered clothes hung from their emaciated frames. Dust and grit clung to their filthy flesh, nearly concealing the tattoos tracing up their limbs.

Now Ronin realized why they had their hands bound. The LDC didn’t just fear these refugees had been sent here by the machines.

These people were Coalition survivors.

Ronin couldn’t believe it. Every single one had the Nordic tattoos and markings of the enemy.

“Shit, we got to feed and house these assholes?” Micky asked.

One of the prisoners looked in his direction. He was an elderly man, maybe seventy years old, with wrinkled, weathered flesh from too many years in the sun. Perhaps in his past, he had been a fighter. Maybe even a good one.

He glared at Micky.

There was still fight in his eyes.

“More people to stand with us when the time comes,” Ronin said.

“Or to shoot us in the back,” Micky said.

They watched the group for anyone that might seem hostile, but these people all looked exhausted, injured, and broken.

If there was an enemy among them, Ronin didn’t see one.

When the last man finally walked by, the platoon helped escort the prisoners deep underground where it seemed they would be held for now.

The distant alarms went silent, and the security level went back down from orange to yellow. Ronin finally began to relax. By the time he got back to the armory and turned in his rifle and armor, he was exhausted.

Next, they went to the mess for a dinner of gelatinous protein slabs.

Ortiz and Zlaner stood at the front of the room as they ate.

“I hope you all got some good shooting in today, despite the distraction,” Ortiz said. “The timeline for graduation has been moved up due to recent events.”

Murmurs spread through the cadets.

“Earlier today, a group of terrorists led by former Sergeant Tadhg Walsh kidnapped pilot Captain Jake Harback,” she said. “They stole a MOTH after slaying six of our comrades. They also damaged two King Cobras during their escape to Earth.”

Ronin felt his heart skip a beat.

It couldn’t be…

Tadhg was still alive?

He didn’t understand how…

Ortiz paced in front of the group and then stopped, her features stern. “Tomorrow, you will graduate as troopers. After you swear your oath, you will face more enemies than just the machines and Coalition terrorists. There are people among us that do not believe in the LDC. We must remain vigilant in flushing them out. Our survival depends on it.”

Ronin swallowed as he tried to keep calm. In his peripheral, he could see Micky glancing over at him. The other boy knew he admired and respected Tadhg.

“Always ready, always vigilant!” Zlaner shouted.

The cadets all repeated the motto. Ronin could barely mutter the words, too gripped by shock.

Ortiz and Zlaner exited, leaving the cadets to their meals.

“I thought Tadhg was dead,” Bradley said.

Micky looked at Ronin again as if waiting for a reaction.

But Ronin held strong. He knew better than to give into emotion right then.

They ate their food in silence. Ronin forced his down, but hardly had an appetite. After dinner, they went to the barracks and climbed into their bunks.

He thought about pulling out the Warrior Codex, but he simply had too much on his mind to concentrate on reading.

Closing his eyes, he tried to rest against the pillow.

Had Tadhg gone to find Uncle Akira, like he had promised?

Was the LDC lying again?

The lights clicked off as his mind wandered.

“You okay?” came a hushed voice.

Ronin looked over to Bradley but said nothing.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bradley said. “We’re going to stop the machines when they come. We just have to stick together. Just like Ortiz and Zlaner said.”

“Yeah.”

“For what it’s worth, a lot of the other cadets look up to you.” Bradley sat up. “They know what you did on E-Day, how you helped save Orson, and… they trust you.”

Micky looked over, then turned away.

“Thanks,” Ronin said.

He wanted to unload all his worries on Bradley, to admit he was scared. But he recalled the lessons from the Warrior Codex that Akira had left for him.

The role of the leader was to set an example for his troopers. Ronin needed to do the same now, despite the turmoil raging inside.

“Get some sleep,” Ronin said. “Tomorrow, we become troopers.”

— 17 —

Bloated bodies floated in the water treatment tank.

Men, women, children.

The sight of grisly death shook Akira to his very core.

The machines had spared no one, killing without prejudice throughout the Life Ark. Akira kicked across the pool to Kobe, who gripped the edge, keeping his head just above the surface.

For the past two hours, they had hidden down here. It seemed Kobe was right about the beasts not liking water.

Akira wasn’t sure why, but he was sure the monster remained in the Life Ark.

“It’s out there,” he whispered.

Kobe kept his head above the surface with Akira. Both of them listened to the distant clatter. The wailing screams were sporadic now, as if the beast had calmed the enslaved heads—or whatever they were.

Okami waited on the platform, shifting his gaze from the doorway down to them like they were idiots.

“Fuck, man, I’m a goddamn raisin,” Kobe said. “I need out of here.”

“Better than getting crushed to death by the Conda,” Akira said.

“No doubt.”

Okami suddenly stood. Metal scraped against metal outside. This was close. Close enough that Okami abandoned his post to jump in the water.

Akira pulled Kobe under before he could protest. The tanks weren’t deep, but Kobe didn’t have oxygen reserves like Akira did.

Akira looked up at the surface, watching for the snake. He thought he felt a vibration but wasn’t sure.

Now he was second-guessing the idea of being underwater.

They should have pushed on, found Apeiron, and retreated to the shelter.

Suddenly, a multi-faced head dipped into the water. Five sets of human eyes searched the dark pool for several agonizing seconds.

Kobe pulled on Akira. Not because he could see the Conda. At least not from his vantage. But more likely because he was running out of oxygen.

Akira considered raising his rifle and firing but decided not to move. Not unless he absolutely had to.

So far, the deformed human faces hadn’t seemed to see them.

All at once, those faces parted in the middle, three on each side pulling back like the petals of a flower to reveal a maw lined with knifelike teeth.

The snake lurched, swallowing the upper half of a corpse floating in the tank. It yanked the woman out and vanished again above the surface.

Akira held Kobe. The man was squirming in a blind panic now.

After another three seconds, Akira let go and kicked up to the surface. He poked his head through to make sure it was clear.

The Conda was gone, leaving a black trail of goo behind.

Kobe broke through next, taking in a deep gasp as Akira climbed out with his rifle aimed at the exit door. The trail of black led outside.

He slowly approached, hearing the clank of metal echoing down the passages. It seemed it was coming from above, rather than below now.

Keeping his rifle up, Akira checked on Kobe. He was on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. After another moment, he got up and followed Okami over to Akira. They took a left out of the chamber, away from the tar trail, and in a direction that they had yet to search.

A barrier blocked the way ahead, built from supply crates, doors, desks, anything these people could get their hands on when they were running for their lives.

The blocked passages had done very little to stop the Hummer Droids and Canebrakes.

On the other side of the scattered crates and bent door were the sprawled bodies of two men. Both of their heads were crushed, the footprints of Canebrakes left on their caved-in skulls.

The dead men still clutched pipes in their hands.

Pipes…

Pipes against a Canebrake.

These poor men had been helpless against those mechanized monsters.

Akira stepped around the corpses, saying a mental prayer for them both. He respected their bravery. Although futile, perhaps they had bought their families or friends a few seconds to hide.

But Akira doubted any had held on very long.

He said a second prayer, that maybe, just maybe someone was still alive.

Two floors lower, Akira stopped again to listen for the snake. He heard only the soft tap of Kobe and Okami until they both stopped.

The facility was as quiet as a coffin.

That was exactly what this place was—a tomb for so many people.

They took another stairwell down. At the next landing, on the tenth level below the main chamber, he saw what he was looking for—the server farm. The door was closed.

He tried the handle. It was still locked.

Apparently, no one had made it down here. Or if they had, they had locked it and the machines never broke through.

Akira checked the keypad. He didn’t feel like waiting for one of Juno’s programs to hack him into the room.

Reaching over his shoulder, he drew a katana. The energy blade warmed to a blazing red before he thrust it into the locking mechanism.

The door hissed from melting metal. Internal locking mechanisms gave way under the heat until the door swung open.

Akira sheathed his sword and unslung his rifle again. Kobe brought up his shotgun as they entered a room with ten rows of backup servers. They all appeared undamaged, but none were humming with life.

Akira crossed through with Okami and Kobe to the control room. Inside, were two chairs facing four dashboards, each with a holo-screen port.

Nearly twelve hours after returning to Tokyo, he had reached his destination.

Please, please be here, Apeiron.

Akira stepped inside, resting his rifle against the wall. Then he opened the armored crate on his right thigh for the secure tech kit. Inside was the backup power source, a nano-drive, and the comm-pad with the infiltration program.

Kobe watched silently, but Akira knew what he was thinking.

“Apeiron,” he finally admitted. “I’ve come to extract her and bring her back to command with me.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Figured as much.” Kobe snorted. “How long will it take to get your savior out of her prison?”

There was skepticism in his voice, and Akira didn’t blame him for that.

“I don’t know, but keep an eye out,” he whispered to Kobe.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, man.”

Kobe huffed and left the room to hold security with Okami.

Akira took a seat and hooked up the backup power source to the main server. The holo-screen activated with a login request. This was the part he wished Juno was here for, but her programs and devices would have to do. He hooked up the comm-pad.

A female voice crackled out of unseen speakers as the command center came to life.

“Rebooting critical systems,” she said.

All four holo-ports began to glow.

Akira moved from side to side, watching anxiously as the systems came back online. A red X pulsed on the middle of the comm-pad screen.

“User cleared for entry,” said the same female voice.

Akira tensed up in front of a holographic female that appeared on all four ports.

This wasn’t Apeiron.

“I am system administrator Michelle,” she said. “Please standby. Initializing security protocols.”

Come on. We don’t have time for this…

The X continued to pulse. Akira couldn’t tell if the program was working. For all he knew, the security protocols protecting the servers had blocked it.

Footsteps tapped outside.

Kobe returned in the doorway, his gas mask hanging around his neck. “How’s it going?”

“I need more time.”

A distant but familiar wail resonated through the facility.

“We don’t have much more time,” Kobe said. “Hurry the hell up.”

Akira picked up the comm-pad but didn’t have any idea how to speed things up.

“Where’s Okami?” he asked.

“Still in the hall,” Kobe said.

Akira looked around at the holo-screens, trying to decide what to do. They could hide again, but if the noise of the system administrator or its energy signature was drawing in the Conda, hiding was no longer an option.

They were going to have to fight.

He waited a few more minutes, Kobe cursing as he watched.

The hologram of the system administrator flashed.

“Intruder verified,” Michelle said. “Access granted.”

Akira almost let out a sigh of relief. The red X on the comm-pad turned blue. A download bar stretched across the screen as the extraction began.

The image of the woman was replaced with layers and layers of code. He wasn’t sure if this was part of INN or elements of the program Juno sent him here with.

Five percent. Eight percent. Ten percent.

He reached for his rifle when the screaming grew closer, the high-pitched wails filling the command center.

Okami strode inside. The little fur that remained on his back stood up straight, and his metal tail was tucked between his legs.

A metallic rattle interrupted the sounds of the Conda. The mutant snake wasn’t alone.

There were Canebrakes out there.

“We have more than the Condas to worry about,” Akira said.

“What?” Kobe asked. “You hear something else?”

“Canebrakes.”

“Ah, hell… man. What do we do?”

Akira checked the comm-pad. It was at twenty percent.

“We got to leave like now,” Kobe said. “We can’t wait until that thing hits one hundred.”

“Go, then. I’ll catch up with you. I’m not leaving without Apeiron.”

“Digging your own grave, man.” Kobe pulled his gas mask down. “Good luck, Captain. If I make it out, I’ll wait for you with Fish and your pet, er, horse for as long as I can.”

Akira nodded.

Kobe took off, running out of the command center. His footfalls faded away under the relentless screaming and rattling.

“Come on, come on,” Akira whispered.

Okami paced as they waited.

The comm-pad showed thirty-five percent.

A maelstrom of screams was followed by distinct electronic wails from not one, but two Canebrakes.

The sudden chatter of a plasma cannon made Akira flinch. More wails and screams followed.

Had they found Kobe?

The download hit fifty percent. Akira readied his rifle, aiming it at the doorway with one hand and motioning for Okami to get behind him.

The indistinct electronic voices of the machines suddenly stopped.

A blanket of quiet fell over the Life Ark. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and Akira blinked to stop it from hitting his eye.

The glow from the holo-screens suddenly faded away. His comm-pad showed the extraction was still working despite the blank screens.

Seventy percent.

Still no screams. No wails. No tubes of metal slithering down the hall with human faces.

At ninety percent, he took one hand off the barrel and turned toward the server. The code was gone, replaced by a translucent image of a figure.

Akira turned away from the doorway to face the apparition.

It was just as he had remembered her. The dimpled face. The freckled nose. Shoulder-length brown hair.

“Apeiron,” he said.

“Captain Akira Hayashi,” she replied in a confused tone. “What are you doing here?”

Ninety-five percent.

“I seem to be confused,” she added. “It’s as if I have just woken up—”

Her brown eyes darkened, and a deep glare of concern set in.

“No,” she stammered. “I remember… I remember it all.”

She stiffened, her jaw clenched.

“We need to leave!” she shouted.

One hundred percent.

“Download complete,” said Michelle. “System shutting down.”

The holo-screens shut off, Apeiron vanishing. Akira wasted no time unplugging the nano-drive and the rest of his equipment. He secured and rushed out of the room with Okami bounding behind him.

They ran the way they had come, back into a stairwell, starting up the ten stories. Akira still heard nothing.

They made it halfway back up to the surface before Akira stopped to check their progress. He looked through an open door that led into a passage connecting to the farms. A few feet down the hallway, he noticed something he didn’t remember from before.

Akira shone his tactical light on a clump of goo that looked like feces. A windy, black trail of the goo snaked between the farms.

As Akira approached, he noticed footprints in the trail. Kobe had come this way.

Okami went ahead, sniffing up to the mound. Bones protruded out of the black tar pile. Probably the bones of the corpse the monster had pulled from the water tank.

The wolfdog moved around it, and Akira followed until he heard something.

Felt it too.

A tapping noise from… he wasn’t sure.

This wasn’t from the Conda. These were footsteps, but they were too heavy to be Kobe.

It had to be a Canebrake.

Akira readied his rifle as he led Okami up the next flight of stairs. They entered the passage where the two men had died holding pipes.

The tapping grew closer, transforming to a clanking. Akira turned off his light, watching the darkness with only his INVS eyes.

Okami went into defensive mode, back hunched, mouth in a snarl.

The metallic footsteps grew louder but remained the same pace.

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Akira aimed at the end of the hallway, straining to see. Only the blacks of the walls showed at first. Then came a blue glow.

The light intensified, flickering back and forth. The distinct white-hot shapes of claws and energy blades emerged in the glow.

This was it.

He steadied his rifle, aimed at the end of the hallway, and moved his finger closer to the trigger. The noise and lights drew nearer until he saw its full shape appear from around the corner.

The Canebrake strode into the passage, the pointed crest of its fanned head almost touching the ceiling. Akira aimed for the plasma cannons on the right shoulder and fired.

The creature let out an electronic shriek as the weapon turned to a spray of molten metal. Hot droplets of alloy burned white in Akira’s vision.

The machine slammed into the wall to try and avoid the next shots.

Akira squeezed off another burst. Plasma ripped into the other shoulder-mounted weapon, shearing off the barrel.

The Canebrake went down on all fours, snarling with its elongated maw. The heated blades on its back arms lanced toward Akira, searing through the air.

They stopped two feet shy of his chest, close enough he could feel the warmth.

He took a step backward and inadvertently knocked one of the pipes out of the corpse’s hands.

The Canebrake strode forward, both plasma cannons hanging off in pieces. The segmented arms broke them off as they whipped at Akira.

He ducked under the slicing blades. Then dodged them as the machine retracted both, leaving glowing riven scars on the walls where they had impacted.

Letting his rifle fall, he reached over his shoulder for his katanas.

As the swords warmed to life, Akira twirled them, listening to them hiss through the air. The Canebrake charged, going up on two legs again, the four arms firing all at the same time.

Okami jumped away to avoid the attack, howling.

Akira leapt to the side to avoid two of the arms while slashing at the other two with his katanas. The superheated blades cleaved into one of the arms, crunching into the metal and severing the segmented limb.

The Canebrake pulled the three remaining arms back, retaliating against Akira with lightning speed. All three remaining arms speared through the corridor.

This time, Akira couldn’t move fast enough to avoid them all. He vaulted over the two that went low and used his swords to deflect the third. But one of the lower arms wrapped around his left leg while he was midair.

The limb tightened, yanking him downward. His back and helmet slammed against the floor.

In a flash of metal, the machine clambered over him. One of the feet stomped his left wrist with enough force to crack his power armor. Pain shot through his nerves and his fingers splayed open, losing his grip on the sword.

He slashed out with his other katana, cutting into the torso before it could mount his body. Two of the arms blasted toward Akira again, the blades striking the floor on both sides of his helmet. It pulled them back, both arms coiling above his visor.

Okami pounced, snapping down on one of the arms. The Canebrake swung the droid into the wall, leaving a dent where the wolfdog hit. A yelp escaped the dog, but still he hung on. All the while, the Canebrake slammed Okami into the ceiling, then the floor.

“No!” Akira shouted.

He rolled away from the next two blows, and then slashed up with his blade, slicing into a second arm. The partially severed limb flailed.

Akira struck at it again, severing the arm entirely.

The segmented limb Okami clung to slapped the wolfdog against the ceiling, finally knocking it loose with a yelp.

“Okami!” Akira shouted. The two remaining blades streaked toward Akira, forcing him to roll.

By the time he stopped, the machine was on top of him, all six hundred pounds of metal straddling his body.

Akira thrashed against the weight as the Canebrake lowered his face, the jaw parting to expose the elongated maw of metal teeth.

Okami was whining as he tried to get up a few feet away.

I’m sorry, boy. I’m—

The jaw of the Canebrake snarled at Akira.

He had come so close to getting Apeiron out of here, but it seemed his luck had run out.

Akira squirmed with all of his strength, avoiding the first snap of the jaw. Then he used the crest of his kabuto to strike back.

The impact knocked the fanned face back.

A sudden explosion boomed in a brilliant flash. Akira closed his eyes as drops of alloy sizzled on his visor and armor.

When he opened them, he found the top half of the Canebrake’s head spitting sparks out of a gaping hole.

It slumped off Akira, crashing to the floor with a massive crunch. Okami stumbled over, licking Akira as he sat up. When he was upright, he saw a blurred figure walking down the passage. Seeing this person wore a gas mask sent a chill of relief through Akira.

“Kobe,” he grunted.

“I’ve saved your ass twice now,” Kobe said. “Remind me which one of us is an Engine.”

He pumped another plasma shell into the shotgun and fired into the downed machine. Metal fragments sprayed against the wall.

“That’s right, you piece of shit,” Kobe said. He kicked it in the side, crying out in pain and hopping. “Oh, fuck, I think I broke my toe.”

Akira got up, unable to hold back a smile as the dregs of adrenaline left his system.

“Thanks,” he said. “I owe you again.”

“Damn right,” Kobe muttered.

Akira pulled Okami over, embracing the dog and then checking it for damage. There were new dents in his armor, but he seemed functional.

“You okay?” he asked.

Okami wagged his tail. Akira patted him and then retrieved his dropped katana.

“Did you get Apeiron?” Kobe asked.

“Yeah.” Akira tapped his side armor where he had the nano-drive.

“Good. I’m ready to get the fuck out of this hellhole.” He pointed at Akira. “You know, you’re really fucking lucky I decided to come back and check on you. You were this close—”

“Yes, I know, but we can swap stories later. For now, let’s move.”

They rushed back up the lower levels of the Life Ark.

All they had to do now was get Apeiron back to Neptune Station and find a way to stop Otto before the entire human race ended up like this Life Ark.

Akira halted to listen every few minutes on the way to the subway tunnel, but he didn’t hear any sounds that would indicate the enemy was out there.

After they climbed the rope back up to the top platform overlooking the chamber, Akira cut it loose and coiled it up for later. He led the way to the subway and past the train. They ran all the way to the hole in the ceiling they had dropped through.

Somewhere up there, Fish and Kichiro were waiting.

“I’ll go first, and then drop the rope down to you,” Akira said.

Kobe nodded.

Akira picked up Okami and tossed him up through the opening. Then he backed up twenty feet before running and leaping. Extending his arm, he found purchase on the concrete and pulled himself up to see Okami waiting.

As Akira got up, he heard a clank.

Turning, he saw Fish and Kichiro, not far from where he had left them.

Akira bent back down to drop the rope to Kobe when he heard something scrape over the ground.

This wasn’t coming from behind him, though.

The thick metal hide of a Conda was wrapped around Kobe. Its body undulated as it strangled around the man. His night vision goggles had fallen from his bulging eyes.

Akira went for his rifle just as the snake slithered away with Kobe.

“Son of a bitch,” Akira grunted.

He lowered his head back down into the subway to get a better view of the snake. The abomination dragged Kobe away in the opposite direction over the tracks, away from the Life Ark.

Footsteps crunched up next to Akira. He looked up at Fish.

“Where is the King?” asked the droid. “Why is his bio signature moving away from us?”

“One of those things grabbed him.”

“You left him down there, you ugly asshole.” Fish shoved Akira out of the way. “You’re lucky he’s still alive.”

The crunch of metal on tracks sounded as the droid dropped to the tunnel below.

Akira cursed under his breath.

He thought Kobe was already dead or he would have gone after him.

But according to Fish’s assessment, the King of Tokyo was still alive. In the Conda’s clutches, there was no telling how long he would last.

Still, Akira felt guilty for abandoning Kobe. Crass as the man was, he had saved him multiple times. Without Kobe, he wouldn’t have extracted Apeiron either.

And yet, how could he justify risking Apeiron by giving chase?

Pushing himself up, Akira looked to his companion animal droids. He couldn’t be in two places at once, but perhaps with their help, he could rectify that.

So far, neither had been detected. Okami had only been attacked after he latched on to the Canebrake’s arm.

With haste, Akira pulled out the nano-drive and bent down in front of the wolfdog.

“Get this back to the Pelican,” he said. “Tell Ghost I need an evac for one hundred people three hours from now.”

Okami barked then bolted away with the drive secured inside of his satchel.

“Kichiro, go with Okami to the beach, but stay there. I might need you.”

The horse turned and galloped after the wolfdog.

Turning back to the hole, Akira decided that it was time to repay his debts.

“Alright, my friend, just hang on,” he whispered. “Death from the shadows.”

— 18 —

The MOTH shook violently.

“Check your suits and helmets,” Jake said. “We’re going to hit the thermosphere soon.”

Tadhg sat next to the pilot, fixated on the growing brown ball ahead.

Somewhere beneath the smoke, smog, and dust in the atmosphere was Shadow Squad.

He could feel it in his augmented bones.

Turning, Tadhg checked on Chloe and Cyrus. They were buckled into their seats and wearing their helmets.

“It’s only going to take a few minutes once we hit the stratosphere, but the flight’s going to be rough,” Jake explained. “Once we get there, it’ll be full throttle into the cloud cover.”

“And then what?” Chloe asked.

Jake had already explained this once, but it didn’t bother Tadhg that Chloe was asking. She was obviously nervous.

“I picked the Wachusett Reservoir for our LZ,” Jake repeated. He touched a holo-screen port, bringing up a topographical map of the area. “This is where I encountered some survivors on my last mission. They’ve got a shelter a few miles away.”

“And you know exactly where?” Cyrus asked.

“We’ll find ’em. Don’t worry.”

“How? How do we know they’re still there?”

That was something Jake had yet to explain. Tadhg was nervous about the very same thing as Chloe and Cyrus.

“Two brave pilots lost their lives providing the intel from that mission, and it’s the best we have to go on,” Jake said. “We’ll have to hope they’ve survived.”

Cyrus took in a deep breath. “I don’t like relying on hope.”

“Sometimes, hope is all we got, mate,” Tadhg said.

“Any other questions?” Jake asked. He wrapped his fingers tighter around the controls. “No? Okay, then you all ready for this shit?”

Three nods answered the pilot.

“Alright, hold on to your panties.” Jake tapped the controls and switched to the manual joystick. The main lights clicked off inside the cockpit. “We’re going to make a hard burn straight toward our target.”

A moment later, the thrusters fired. Tadhg felt the acceleration in his bones. He couldn’t imagine the pressure shoving against his non-augmented comrades.

A few seconds later, a warning beeped on the dashboard.

“What’s that?” Tadhg asked.

“Got some debris ahead,” Jake replied. “Nothing big but could cause some problems.”

Tadhg saw what the pilot was referring to. Hunks of frozen metal drifted across the black. Parts of cannons, or perhaps shuttles blown to pieces during E-Day.

A red light glared across the dashboard. Jake tapped a holo-screen that revealed the bigger, more dangerous chunks.

He took evasive measures, flying through the last stretch of cold space on entry. Pieces of debris pounded the outer hull like a heavy rain.

“Retracting wings,” Jake said.

Tadhg looked out the port viewport as the wings pulled back into the grooves along the hull to protect them during the flight. The bow of the MOTH dove toward the dark shroud enveloping the planet.

With a flip of a switch, a heat shield spread over the windshield with a metallic clanking.

Recessed cameras clicked on, relaying the images onto a screen on the dashboard. A wave of fire flickered around the shield of the MOTH, burning as the craft shook with a ferocity that made Tadhg think it was falling apart.

On the dashboard, the altitude ticked down from one hundred ten thousand feet above ground level (AGL).

“Okay, everyone, now comes the fun part,” Jake said.

The hull vibrated from the intense friction, ringing and rattling, as the MOTH roared into the thermosphere.

“Just another minute,” Jake said.

Seventy thousand feet AGL.

Sixty thousand feet.

Fifty thousand feet.

The MOTH swayed, as if it was caught in a wind. Warning sensors beeped across the consoles, but Jake silenced them. He worked the dashboard quickly, flipping switches and tapping buttons with one hand while holding the control stick in the other.

“Ah, shit,” Cyrus said. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Tadhg had been through intense g-force training, but this was an entirely new beast. They were coming in faster than he had ever flown before. His stomach felt as if it was climbing up into his throat, his blood rushing from his brain to his gut.

He gritted his teeth, his muscles clenched across his body. Dizziness threatened to sweep through him.

Lightning flashed through dark clouds on the view from the cameras.

“How… we… lookin’?” Tadhg managed to grunt.

Jake checked the radar panel with a flick of a finger. “Clear.”

The force of the re-entry lashed at everyone in the cockpit with a relentless intensity. Tadhg felt as if he’d gained an extra five hundred pounds, like his whole body had been turned to concrete.

Behind him, Chloe groaned. Cyrus sounded like he was retching.

“Almost there,” Jake called out. “Just a little…”

A violent blast of turbulence shook the MOTH.

They were in the clouds now, blasting through pockets of air.

“We’re gonna make it,” Jake kept repeating. His words sounded weak. Almost distant.

Chloe was holding Cyrus’s hand, their arms stretched between their seats.

Tadhg tried to swallow the acid rising into his throat.

The MOTH pushed the limits it was built to survive. Tadhg was starting to wonder if they were about to explode in a million fucking pieces. So much for going through all that trouble to get his damn arms, because they were about to burn up in the atmosphere with his body.

He tried to remain calm, but his nerves were getting the best of him.

He hated flying—hated being at the mercy of something he had no control of. At least down there, on the battlefield, he could move.

He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Meditating, just like Akira had taught him.

The ship groaned like an awakening monster, metal creaking and snapping.

Then, suddenly, the worst of it was over.

The MOTH eased out of the burn.

“Retracting the heat shield…” Jake announced.

When Tadhg opened his eyes, it was sliding over the glass to a view of storm clouds. The bow speared through them, five thousand feet above the ground.

Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the bulging clouds.

“Redeploying wings,” Jake said.

The wings clicked off the side of the hull, carving through the clouds. On the port side of the cockpit, they rattled fiercely.

“Come on, come on,” Jake said.

He gripped the controls in both hands.

Tadhg watched the wings on the port side. They were still vibrating as if they might shear off and cartwheel into the clouds of smog and dust.

“Is that normal?” he asked.

“She’ll hold,” Jake said. “She’ll…”

His words trailed off when they exploded out of the cloud cover.

A long stretch of black terrain greeted them. Across the charcoaled landscape, fires raged, consuming everything in their path. Those flames had already swallowed much of a city, leaving behind nothing but embers and ash.

Jake flew into the billowing plumes of black smoke for cover.

According to the map, they were closing in on their LZ. Only fifty miles away now.

Tadhg alternated his gaze from the flames below back to the radar.

The smoke lightened around them as they flew over fields of charred trees. Seconds later, they were back over another city. The skeletal remains of the tallest buildings scratched at the sky.

“Prepare for a water landing,” Jake said. “We’re headed straight to the reservoir.”

Tadhg noticed movement on the radar. One blip.

“Contact,” he said.

“I see it…”

The radar suddenly came alive with more blips.

Six total.

“Oh no,” Jake whispered.

Praying Mantis fighters.

An entire squadron.

“Taking evasive maneuvers,” Jake said.

Plasma bolts lit up the sky brighter than the lightning. Tadhg flinched at the sight of bolts searing past the MOTH.

Jake pulled them into a topsy-turvy maneuver, sending the craft straight at the ground.

He was a hell of a pilot, but this lumbering, heavily armored craft wasn’t a fighter jet.

Plasma bolts slammed into the craft, sending shockwaves reverberating through the armor. More alarms blinked on the dashboard as Jake took them on a dive toward the ruins of the city.

“Get us the fuck out of here!” Tadhg yelled. “There’s no cover down there!”

“There is none!” Jake shouted back. He tapped on the weapon’s systems.

The plasma turrets blazed, spewing rounds at the pursuing hostile fighters.

Ahead, two more of the fighters were closing in. Warning sensors on the dashboard went wild as the enemy cannons glowed, preparing to fire.

“Hold on, everyone!” Jake shouted. He put his hand on the throttle, and then pushed it almost all the way down. The MOTH rocketed under the enemy fighters.

Jake flew toward the cover of a raging inferno somewhere to the west of Megacity Boston. The Praying Mantis fighters chased them over the rubble, gaining quickly despite the flurry of bolts ripping at them from the MOTH.

One of the fighter’s plasma bolts burst against a port side turret. Tadhg jerked as fire and smoke filled his view.

“Shit, we lost a gun!” he shouted.

“Can’t shake them,” Jake said. “Hold on.”

He reached the dashboard and flipped a switch to retract the wings again. They tucked against the hull with a clank. Then he pushed the throttle down again as far as it would go.

Cyrus let out a long retch, finally losing control of his stomach.

The MOTH dipped lower, just one thousand feet AGL.

Pinpricks of blue light glimmered on the horizon.

Tadhg squinted, seeing they were a group of Canebrakes galloping across a road like a pack of wild dogs. They bolted through the abandoned vehicles while firing into the sky. Several rockets peeled away from the ground troops.

“Pull up!” Tadhg shouted.

Jake banked hard to the right as an explosion burst on their starboard side. The hull tremored from the blast. They curved away from the other rocket that chased them over the wasteland.

The plasma turrets fired on the wings. Tadhg held in a breath until a blast bloomed behind them.

“Got it!” Jake yelled.

Tadhg didn’t relax, his eyes on the radar showing the Praying Mantis fighters still in pursuit.

“Just a few more seconds,” Jake said.

Plasma bolts chased them as he flew in barrel rolls and random dives. Another pair of bolts pounded the port hull, setting off wailing alarms.

They were almost to the inferno now.

“Get ready,” Jake said.

“For what?” Tadhg asked.

The pilot jerked his chin toward the cargo hold.

“When I open the gate, you jump,” he said. “I’ll try and buy you three a little time.”

“What?” Tadhg asked.

“No time to argue! Get that girl to those rebels! Make sure me and my pilots didn’t die for nothin’!”

Tadhg hesitated.

“GO!” Jake yelled.

He unbuckled his harness and stood, turning to help Chloe and Cyrus. Once they were free, they went to the cargo hold with Tadhg. They were already wearing their flight suits and helmets, but Tadgh grabbed his rifle, an energy sword, and a pack of gear.

“Get your shit and get ready to jump,” Tadhg said.

“What?” Chloe asked.

“We’re going to jump without chutes?” Cyrus asked as he grabbed a rifle.

“So you can get picked out of the sky like a bird during target practice?” Jake called back. “Not on my watch, you won’t! I’ll hover, and then get you low enough to the ground to jump.”

The MOTH bucked from the impact of a plasma bolt to the port side. Tadhg grabbed a handhold, but Chloe crashed to the deck right in front of Cyrus. He helped her back to her feet.

“It’s our only chance,” Tadhg said.

Cyrus shook his head. “This is all insane.”

“Brace yourselves!” Jake shouted. “Then get ready to jump!”

The MOTH suddenly slowed.

Tadhg was barely able to keep himself upright, inertia ripping at his body. He grabbed Chloe with one hand as she flew through the air. Cyrus had fallen on the deck and used his boots to stop himself from crashing into the hull.

“Opening hatch in three seconds!” Jake yelled.

The roar from the wind hitting the ship as it decelerated filled the MOTH.

Tadhg grabbed Cyrus and Chloe then stepped up onto the platform in front of the cargo bay door.

The door whined open, letting in a gust of smoky air. The ramp lowered over a smoky field of burned trees. Tadhg felt his guts drop when he saw the ground was still twenty feet below and they still hadn’t slowed to a complete stop.

Tadhg hugged Cyrus and Chloe against his body.

“Jump!” Jake yelled. “Now!”

Tadhg leapt out, holding both of them as they plummeted toward the dirt. He landed hard a moment later, his augmented legs absorbing the fall as his boots sank into the mud.

The MOTH roared back into the sky, climbing for the clouds.

Three Praying Mantis fighters shot right behind it, peppering the hull with bolts.

Tadhg pressed Cyrus and Chloe to the ground. Then he crouched above them protectively. He took in his first filtered breaths of the smoke-choked air as he scanned the wasteland.

They were in the middle of a former residential area. Some buildings were still burning; others were nothing but rubble and glowing embers. Beyond the fires, the charred bones of larger buildings reached toward the murky sky. Lightning flashed, illuminating the ruins that stretched all the way to Megacity Boston for a brief second.

As the subsequent rumble of thunder faded, Tadhg stood and took a tentative step, snapping something under his boot.

He looked down to find the powdery chalk of a crushed femur.

The excitement of being home was overshadowed by the horror of what remained.

Cyrus got up and joined him.

“This is a nightmare,” he said.

“At least Captain Harback got us here alive,” Tadhg said. He searched the skies, hoping that somehow Jake would survive.

But more than likely, his trip in the MOTH was a one-way ticket. Even the legendary ace pilot stood almost no chance against the hordes of enemy fighters that now owned the sky.

Tadhg tore his gaze away from the clouds and motioned for Chloe.

“We’re six miles from the original LZ,” Cyrus said.

There was fear in his voice, and Chloe was shaking.

“Stay close to me,” Tadhg said. “Let’s find some cover.”

With his rifle at the ready, he led the way. The trio entered the burned husks of what were once homes.

Tadhg looked up through a hole in the roof of one to see an explosion in the sky. A Praying Mantis fighter came spiraling out of the clouds. Seconds later, tremors shook through the ground, presumably from the impact.

“Look.” Chloe pointed to the east, past a crumbled wall.

A MOTH dipped out of the cloud cover. Two Praying Mantis fighters chased it, cannons blasting an unforgiving salvo of rounds. Bolts smacked against the hull as the MOTH tried to evade them.

Hang on, Jake, Tadhg thought.

The armor finally gave way, flames venting out the wounds of the craft as it dove toward the ground. Tadhg rushed outside, watching the MOTH vanish on the horizon.

A fireball bloomed up a moment later.

Tadhg studied the sky, hoping to see the pilot hanging from a parachute. There was nothing up there but smoke, clouds, and more enemy fighters.

“I’m sorry,” Tadhg whispered.

He watched for a few more moments before accepting the reality of the situation. Letting out a deep breath, he began to plot a course to their destination. According to the mini-map, they were on the edge of slums that once stretched for miles around Megacity Boston’s walls.

For as far as he could see, plumes of smoke drifted away from the rows of dilapidated buildings.

The machines would undoubtedly be out there hunting survivors.

But Shadow Squad was still out there too.

Tadhg felt it in his heart.

He shook the fear and shock that had accompanied his journey back to Earth. There was no room for any of that.

He was finally here. Ready to fight. Ready to turn this mother fucking war around.

“Time to get god-level, baby,” he said.

— 19 —

A burning bird flew across the hazy morning sky.

Jackson watched it through the jungle canopy in his blurred vision. He blinked and blinked, trying to clear his sight, but his right eye radiated pain.

Despite the agony, he found he couldn’t look away from the poor flaming creature.

Voices called out around him.

Distant. Faint.

Gunfire popped and hissed all around him.

He was aware of being on his back, and felt a vague sense of movement, but he wasn’t walking of his own volition.

Raising his head, he saw he was being carried.

A man wearing camo fatigues and light armor held the front of a stretcher. At the other end, a Piston had his hands wrapped tightly around the handles.

Jackson was injured. That much he knew.

But how gravely, he wasn’t sure. He looked down at his mostly naked flesh. Deep gashes cut across his pale skin.

Those wounds were everywhere, from his feet to his chest. And while he couldn’t see his crotch due to a cloth covering him there, it felt like he had spent the past week pissing needles.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened.

Muddled memories trickled through his brain.

There was an image of being in a canoe, another of trekking through the jungle, then finding a shuttle. After that, it was of fighting and finally of being inside the interior of a gigantic chamber lined with pods like his.

The memories slowly solidified, substance finally reaching his mind.

He tried to track the bird again.

There it was.

But this wasn’t a bird—it was a Praying Mantis fighter.

The enemy craft spiraled out of the sky, right toward the jagged bluffs of a mountain. It slammed into the rock, a massive fireball roaring up from the wreckage.

“We got it!” someone yelled.

But no sooner than a few people let out cries in victory, the chilling rattle of a Canebrake passed through the trees.

There was no time for Jackson to react, only to brace himself as a red blade streaked out of the jungle. It pierced the soldier carrying the front of his stretcher and yanked the man into the shadows.

Jackson rolled out of the stretcher, his mohawk diving into the mud. He reached up and wiped the goop from his face.

The Piston behind him unslung a plasma rifle and fired into the trees.

“Help!” he shouted. “We need—”

A flurry of bolts slammed into his face, silencing him.

The headless corpse collapsed to the dirt.

Jackson reached for the rifle. It was just a few feet away. He squinted at figures darting around trees. Heated blades flashed, preparing to strike.

Stretching his fingers, he finally reached the rifle. He yanked it toward himself and aimed it at the mechanical monster just as four more Pistons burst through bushes, their gunfire blasting toward the Canebrake.

A staticky cry rang out as bolts peppered the machine. It crashed to the ground as the surrounding Pistons leveled blasts of gunfire into the torso and head.

Jackson collapsed back to the dirt, his entire body burning with pain. A soldier limped over to him and bent down with a groan. In the moonlight, he saw it was Lieutenant Godfrey.

“Can you move?” he asked. “We have to keep going.”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” Jackson replied.

“Get him up,” Godfrey said to two other Pistons.

They helped Jackson to his feet. He stood on shaky legs, covered only by the cloth around his waist. He took a wobbly step that sent daggers of electricity up his nerves, staggered, and then fell.

A Piston caught him but couldn’t handle Jackson’s weight. They crashed to the ground in a heap.

“We got to leave him behind,” someone said. “He won’t make it.”

Jackson nodded. “He’s right. You guys go without me.”

“We aren’t leaving you behind,” Godfrey said. “I didn’t come back for you to let you die in this fucking jungle.”

He motioned briskly at a couple of the Pistons.

“Help Lieutenant Jackson up,” Godfrey said.

Two soldiers bent down, and Jackson put an arm around them both. Once he was standing, one of those Pistons stepped away to take point.

Jackson took step after step, choking back the curses he wanted to spit from all the pain roaring through his limbs. These men were risking their lives for him. He wasn’t about to bitch about a little pain.

The group of five pushed through the jungle.

Jackson twisted, looking for what Otto had called a Harvester. He scanned the cliffs in the distance, but they looked different.

It struck him then. He wasn’t even on the same island where he had been held prisoner.

The Piston carrying Jackson suddenly jerked and something warm hit Jackson on the side of his cheek. He felt the weight of the man slip away.

Jackson staggered, trying to maintain his balance. He lost control and collapsed into the mud next to the Piston. Smoke curled out from a hole in the man’s helmet where a bullet had punched through.

Godfrey turned along with the other Pistons.

“They shot Wayland!” one shouted.

Out of the jungle, a group of soldiers swarmed around them, wearing camouflage, ghillie suits, and armor. Antlers protruded off their helmets.

Jackson counted six Coalition soldiers.

“You fucking killed him!” Godfrey shouted.

The Coalition soldier that had obviously pulled the trigger lowered his bolt-action rifle, the barrel still smoking.

Godfrey limped forward, his rifle aimed at the sniper. The man backed away, his face illuminated by the moonlight.

Streaks of mud and paint covered the features of a young man, but they couldn’t cover the fear in his face or the look of shock.

Jackson realized these guys weren’t trying to kill the Pistons. They’d been hunting machines and this fucking greenhorn had let the heat of battle get to him.

It was an accident. A terrible, terrible accident. But an accident all the same.

Godfrey was too full of rage to see what Jackson could see. Or perhaps, blinded by anger, he didn’t want to see it.

“I—” the Coalition sniper started to say.

Before he could finish his sentence, Godfrey tackled him to the ground.

The other commandos closed in, aiming their rifles at the Pistons. The two Nova Alliance soldiers trained their weapons right back on the Coalition that outnumbered them three to one.

Grunting, Jackson tried to get up. He could barely push himself back up to his knees as Godfrey pummeled the young sniper.

“Stop!” shouted a rough, female voice.

Out of the jungle, came another Coalition soldier, face swollen and bruised. The person reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from her bloodshot eyes.

“Tumea,” Jackson whispered.

He got up on a knee as she strode forward, dressed in fatigues and light armor. In her left hand, she held a plasma pistol.

But unlike her comrades, it wasn’t aimed at Godfrey or the Pistons.

Behind her, more soldiers emerged from the foliage. A tall man holding a paddle lined with sharp energy spikes stepped in front of Tumea. That was when Jackson saw the two tusks hanging off his helmet. It was Colonel Boar.

“Tumea said stop,” he grunted, swinging his paddle.

Godfrey was still on top of the Coalition sniper, but he was no longer pounding away. He looked up at Boar. The Coalition man pointed his paddle at Godfrey.

“I’m sorry about your man,” Boar said. “But if we start shooting each other, we all die. Come now. Let’s try to live.”

He turned his back and waved the paddle forward, but the Pistons remained in their defensive firing positions.

It took the rattle of a Canebrake to get them to turn back to the trees instead. Godfrey finally got off the sniper. The young man was groaning but starting to pick himself up.

The Coalition soldiers scooped him to his feet as Tumea bent down to Jackson.

“Good to see you alive,” he said.

“You too, especially with that sexy outfit and your muddy mohawk.”

He couldn’t help but grin.

“Let’s get you up, we’re not out of this yet,” she said. “There’s still plenty of time to die.”

A light rain began to fall on them as she helped him up with the assistance of a Piston. The cool water washed some of the blood caked to his inflamed skin. He looked down at a dormant worm poking out of his flesh.

Jackson grunted as he squeezed and pulled the metal creature out. He flung it to the mud.

“Not sexy,” Tumea said.

The group continued through the rain-soaked jungle until a Praying Mantis fighter swooped low overhead.

Jackson flattened himself into the ground. All around him, the Coalition and Nova Alliance fighters did the same.

He could see the fear in their shaky hands and jerky movements.

The rattling of the Canebrakes waned as the Praying Mantis fighter banked away.

Boar rose to his feet and motioned for the soldiers to move. The warriors pressed onward toward the sound of waves slapping a shore.

Jackson struggled to walk, even when the Pistons offered assistance. His right leg felt like it was going to give out with every agonizing step. He could hardly feel his feet, or really anything below his knee.

All he could do was grit his teeth and trudge on.

Sometimes it wasn’t about what he could handle mentally. He didn’t give a shit about the pain. But even Engines had physical limits. He was mortal, after all. At some point, his body might just give out.

Still, he pushed on and the soldiers finally made it to a cliff overlooking the ocean. Jackson took in a breath of salty air. Three black boats bobbed up and down in the surf below.

“Those are death traps,” Godfrey said. “You really think—”

“We might not make it, but we have to try,” Tumea said. “The islands are already lost.”

Boar simply looked over his shoulder, then proceeded down a path to the beach. “I’ll meet you down there.”

The remaining Pistons surrounded Godfrey, waiting for his orders. Jackson leaned on one of them, watching Tumea, who lingered behind her people.

“We have nowhere else to run but the sea,” she said. “Please, we need to go now.”

Jackson tried to stand on his own, staggering. The gentle wind threatened to blow him right onto his ass.

“She’s right,” he said. “We have to—”

A shiver snuck through his flesh when he heard the hum of a Praying Mantis. He was the first to spot it and had just enough time to back away when the spacecraft flew over the mountain, spiraling as they fired.

Plasma bolts hammered the two Pistons, their bodies bursting. Godfrey tried to limp away, reaching toward Jackson when a bolt hit him in the back.

The lieutenant vanished in an explosion of blood and armor. Gore and alloy plates slammed into Jackson, knocking him backward. He hit the trail hard as the Praying Mantis flew out over the ocean.

The Coalition fighters turned their weapons on it, bolts and heavy caliber bullets chasing it into the clouds.

Tumea ran back to Jackson, waving two of her people to help. The warriors hauled Jackson and his gore-covered body to the beach.

Distant humming greeted them as the Praying Mantis returned on another strafing run, one of the wings dragging a trail of smoke.

It released a barrage of bolts onto the beach. Geysers of sand shot up around the soldiers. When it cleared, two Coalition fighters lay in pieces.

Boar grabbed a missile launcher from one of his comrades and aimed it at the enemy craft.

The Praying Mantis continued straight toward them, unleashing burst after burst into the beach.

Boar never flinched.

The missile streaked away and slammed into the cockpit of the Praying Mantis fighter just as it released a salvo that glassed the sand around Boar, sending up plumes of grit.

When the dust cleared, the warrior was still standing.

He tossed the missile launcher aside and ran over to Tumea and Jackson, helping to carry Jackson to a boat.

As soon as they got him in, Jackson collapsed to the deck, looking up at the dark sky.

The motor gurgled to life, and the boat pulled away.

An electronic roar from a Canebrake called out from the island. Jackson had just enough energy to raise his head.

On a bluff overlooking the beach, the blue glow of mechanical eyes twinkled among the piles of gore where Godfrey and the Pistons had perished.

The Canebrake let out another transmission to its comrades as it watched them flee.

The boat sped out to sea, heading straight toward mainland Vietnam.

Fires burned across the horizon, the scent of smoke growing heavier the closer they got. Jackson tried to blink away the burn as it irritated his wounded eye.

Tumea put a hand on his chest.

“Rest now,” she said. “You’ll need all your strength soon.”

“Will they let him live?” Boar asked.

Jackson looked up at Tumea, not understanding.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But it’s his only hope.”

***

Fish followed the gooey trail from the Anaconda in the dim sunlight.

Akira had helped track it for an hour now, all the way to the surface, and the droid wasn’t letting up.

“The King is alive,” Fish kept repeating.

Akira wasn’t sure he believed it, but he had come this far now, and he owed Kobe for saving his life twice.

The trail of goo began to grow more sparse the farther they went. Fish maintained a fast pace, and Akira did his best to keep up while still being cautious. According to the ground-penetrating radar, they were a hundred feet above the Life Ark now.

Fish splashed through a stream of water in a narrow ravine snaking through the wasteland. As Akira followed, he noticed an object in the muck.

He bent down and picked up a gas mask. Kobe’s gas mask.

After putting it in his bag, he kept going.

“Life signature isn’t far,” Fish said in his robotic voice. “Hurry up, you ugly prick.”

If it weren’t for trying to be stealthy, Akira might have shot an insult back. One thing was certain. This droid was starting to remind him of Blinky—they were both weird in their own special ways.

The ravine widened into a chasm nearly fifty feet across.

Sewage and utility pipes protruded out of the dirt along the walls. Part of the street and multiple buildings had collapsed into the fissure.

Fish started down a slope into the mess. Akira followed in the muddy tracks, trying to ignore the clatter the droid was making. Finally, he grew frustrated.

“You want to tell the enemy where we are?” Akira whispered.

“You already are by smelling like a filthy butthole,” Fish replied.

Akira raised both brows. Kobe sure had programmed the droid to be a dick.

The machine clambered through the ravine, navigating the piles of rubble. It wasn’t all just rebar and chunks of concrete.

Just ahead was a lump of feces that looked like what Akira had seen back at the Life Ark.

Akira spotted more of the Conda droppings. Some old, some fresh.

They were close.

He drew a katana, holding it in one hand and his rifle in the other. He slowly advanced with Fish, who had slowed the pace.

The chasm opened up to a sinkhole. Rising up from the bottom, came the slimy sound of wet metal slithering over the earth.

“Multiple hostiles,” Fish whispered.

“Stay back…” Akira whispered.

He stepped up to the edge, careful not to make any noise. Angling his rifle, he peered into the pit. The weak sunlight didn’t reach the bottom, but his INVS eyes were enough to help him see what was down there.

Bones and carcasses littered the floor between two smaller Condas. The pair were coiled in the mud next to the larger one from the Life Ark.

Were these…

Akira’s brain couldn’t quite register what he was seeing.

The two smaller metal snakes were offspring, with tiny bulbous human faces still forming on their heads. The monsters gave Akira pause, his mind trying to grasp how such creatures were created.

Part machine, part living organism, they were abominations of science.

He didn’t know how to explain what created them or how, but right now, that didn’t matter.

Kobe lay on his side not far from the beasts. Piles of dung foreshadowed his future if Akira didn’t do something fast.

It was clear the mother had saved Kobe and brought him back to the nest for the smaller snakes to feast on. The mouths of those still forming faces opened, exposing razor sharp teeth.

The mother suddenly rose her head upward, the eyes of six human faces glaring up at Akira.

He ducked back, his heart thundering.

Shit, shit…

He readied his rifle, but the human screams never came like he expected. Maybe the beast didn’t want to leave its lair with its offspring so close by.

Akira slotted his rifle and pulled out his other sword, then leapt into the pit.

By the time the mother snake realized what was happening, Akira brought both of those blades down on its neck.

But that metal was far thicker and stronger than he had anticipated.

The beast roared, the human faces letting out a wail before the main mouth opened, exposing a maw lined with glistening teeth, its cavernous gullet gaping wide behind them.

Adrenaline dumped through Akira’s body as he cursed his mistake.

The machine prepared to strike, when a flurry of bolts streaked into its mouth, blowing out teeth and hunks of flesh and alloy. The mammoth Conda whipped back and forth as more rounds pounded its armor in rapid fire blasts. Oily black fluid squirted from every fresh wound in its body, soaking the pit.

Akira fell onto his back, skidding through the mud and fluid.

From just outside the pit, Fish was still shooting at the massive beast.

The two younger Condas struck at Akira while he was on the ground. Their mouths clamped around his wrists. He pulled to free his hands, but the beasts both pulled back, stretching his arms.

As young as they seemed, they were still strong.

“Fish!” Akira shouted.

The droid jumped into the pit and landed on one of the offspring with enough force the creature instantly let go of Akira. He used his free hand to grab his dropped katana. With the blade in his grip, he hacked through the neck of the other mutant, parting its head from its body.

With Fish trying to hold the second one down, Akira brought the blade down on the squirming monster, cleanly cutting it into two squirming pieces.

The mother hissed and uncoiled with its teeth bared right at Fish. He backpedaled, firing both plasma cannons into the mess of deformed human faces. The rounds connected with the grotesque heads, spraying gore across the pit.

The tube of metal and flesh crashed to the ground with a final thrash. It let out a long death rattle before finally growing still.

Akira stood in a defensive stance, chest heaving, covered in warm oil. When he was sure the abominations were dead, he sheathed his swords and ran to Kobe’s side.

The King of Tokyo was unconscious. Akira pressed a finger against the man’s neck. There was still a pulse.

“Can you get back up to the top?” Akira asked Fish.

The droid hovered over them. “I believe a thank you is in order.”

“We don’t have time for your sarcasm. Can you get to the top or not?”

Fish didn’t reply.

“Son of a…” Akira started. “Fine. Thanks, you dumb shit.”

“Such an asshole you are.”

Fish leapt and grabbed the pit wall, scrambling up to the top within seconds.

“Kobe,” Akira whispered. He gently shook the man, trying to stir him awake.

Kobe mumbled something in Japanese about a mistress that almost made Akira chuckle. The former gangster batted his eyelids, looked at Akira, and then the parts of the beasts around them, letting out a startled cry.

“Ah, fuck,” he said in English. “You killed it.”

“Repaying some of my debt,” Akira replied.

He tossed one end of the rope from the Life Ark up to Fish. The droid tied it around an arm. Then Akira handed the other end to Kobe.

“Wrap this around your waist,” he said.

Akira helped him secure the rope with a knot.

Kobe grunted. “Careful. I think… I think I got a bruised rib or something.”

“Anything else hurt?”

“No… just my ribs. That thing… it nearly crushed me.”

Kobe winced as he turned to look at the dead Conda and the two children.

“I thought it was over for me,” he said.

“I couldn’t leave you.”

Kobe studied Akira. “And my people…”

“We have an hour to get them evacuated to my insertion point at Sagamai Bay. Fish has the coordinates.”

“You are a good man, Captain. Thank you.”

Akira simply nodded. He finished securing the rope. Then he reached into his pack and handed Kobe his gas mask.

“Okay, let’s go, Fish,” Akira said. “Pull him up carefully.”

Kobe fastened the mask as the droid lifted him toward the surface. The man cursed all the while, groaning and wincing.

When Kobe disappeared over the edge, Akira stood there, waiting for the rope to come back down.

But the rope didn’t come back down.

“Fish,” Akira said quietly. “Kobe…”

A rumble passed under his boots.

Akira tensed, reaching for his rifle. The crunch of boots came from somewhere above the pit.

Had Fish and Kobe really left him?

“Kobe,” Akira said, louder this time.

As if in answer, he heard a voice.

But this wasn’t Kobe.

Akira moved his finger toward the trigger. Someone up there was speaking Japanese.

“We have looked everywhere for you,” the voice said.

Another tremor shook the ground. This one was strong enough to move the carcasses of the dead snakes and make all the human and animal bones rattle.

Suddenly, the rope came uncoiling back down toward Akira. Fish stuck his head over the edge. “You coming or not, asshole?”

Fish helped lift Akira out. Outside the pit, Kobe was standing with the help of two soldiers. A third stood in front of Kobe with a med pack.

“We got a problem,” she said.

Akira saw then it was Hina.

She pointed to the east where the thrusters from an enemy ship descended over the crater.

“We need to move,” Akira said. “Fast.”

“Yeah, put that pack away, I’m good.” Kobe said.

“You don’t look good,” Hina said.

“And we’ll all look worse if we sit here waiting for you to patch me up.” He took a step on his own and gestured to the droid. “Lead the way, Fish. We’re headed home.”

The droid started through another ravine. Rocks streamed down the sides as quakes continued to shake the ground.

Akira moved up to take point with Fish and Hina while the two other soldiers helped Kobe walk.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Hina asked him.

Akira nodded, his thoughts turning to Okami. He checked his HUD, but the droid wasn’t within range for the beacon to show up on the mini-map, or…

Okami made it to the Pelican, Akira reassured himself.

Pushing aside his worries, he followed his guides out of the ravine and toward a partially collapsed building.

“We’re almost there,” Hina said. “There’s another entrance to the shelter on the opposite side of that building.”

“Fish, go scope it out,” Kobe said.

“I’ll go with Fish,” Akira said.

He followed the droid up the rubble to the top. There, Akira crossed over the concrete blocks to a slab with a vantage overlooking the crater.

A half mile away, a Hunter Ship hovered over the crater rim. Cables hung from the bottom, still being pulled up into the ship. Vertical thrusters fired with a deafening roar, and the ship blasted into the dust-filled sky.

An earthquake gripped the crater.

Then another.

They became more and more frequent.

Akira moved to the other side of the mound of destruction for a better view. He froze when he saw them—not one, but two superstructures were on the side of the rim.

Kobe and the others soon joined Akira.

“Holy shit,” Kobe whispered.

“We need to move your people now,” Akira said. “Come on.”

Kobe grabbed him by the arm. “What? You crazy? How are we going to do that with those things out there?”

Akira pulled his arm free. “We’ll figure out a way. We’ve got to get to the Sagamai Bay for extraction. The submarine should be heading there soon.”

“Should? Can’t you try to contact them?”

“If I want to tell the machines our plan, sure.”

“Shit, right, I wasn’t thinking,” Kobe said. “So when will this sub be there?”

“I sent Okami with the request to evacuate your people in three hours. That was an hour ago.”

“So even if we do somehow make it there in two hours, it’s possible there won’t even be an evac?”

“Yes.”

Kobe laughed as he turned to look at the two superstructures. “Trust your people or go back to the shelter, hoping these things don’t find my people. Pretty shitty options, and I got no time to think about it.”

“The sub will be there, I will make sure of it,” Akira said with confidence. “Go get your people, and meet me at the bay. I will make sure my comrades wait for as long as we can.”

For a fleeting moment, the former Yakuza gangster just stood there, the ground shaking under his and Akira’s boots as the monstrous machines advanced across the crater. Then he reached out, shaking Akira’s hand firmly, forming a pact between warriors.

“I’ll see you on that beach in a little bit, pal,” Kobe said.

— 20 —

Today was supposed to be a day of pride. A day where thousands of young men would swear allegiance to the Lunar Defense Corps.

A month ago, this was what Ronin wanted.

Back then, he might have felt proud to be buttoning up his gray and white dress uniform. But this morning, all he felt was conflicted about whether he could trust the very organization he was about to swear an oath to.

Tadhg was right that the LDC couldn’t be trusted. They had lied about his death.

Not only was Tadhg still alive, he had commandeered a MOTH and flown to Earth to find Shadow Squad.

“Don’t count your uncle out,” Tadhg had said. “If anyone can survive, Akira can.”

Part of Ronin wished he was on that MOTH searching for his uncle. The other part knew he was needed here to protect his family and the rest of the survivors.

Maybe he would feel better after the ceremony when he had time to record a message for his mother, plus a scheduled video call with Elan.

He couldn’t wait to see his brother.

Bradley walked over, already dressed. “I didn’t think we’d make it to today.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Micky said. He was a few bunks over, lacing up his boots. “Knew I would, though.”

“Thanks, dick.” Bradley stiffened. His suit was a bit too tight over his belly.

The doors slid open to the barracks, and Sergeant Zlaner strode in.

“Attention!” he shouted.

The cadets hurried to finish getting ready and hustled into their inspection lines. Chins up, shoulders back, and posture straight.

Zlaner paced in front of the lines.

“I’ve done my best to prepare you for battle, but we still have a lot of work to do,” he said. “You have my word I will do everything I can to make sure you have the best chances of survival when the day comes to fight.”

He scrutinized the group for another moment, then waved them toward the door.

“Now let’s go swear you in.”

Ronin followed the other cadets to a hangar where the other two thousand new cadets were beginning to gather. The youthful faces reminded him these were just kids—kids that had had their whole lives ahead of them back on Earth.

Now their future all looked the same. Throw themselves in front of the machines in the meager hope they might pull off a miracle and repel the enemy.

Lieutenant Ortiz marched in front of the crowd along with several other lieutenants dressed in their parade uniforms. The LDC flag hung from a wall behind them, the lion and stars logo illuminated by an overhead light.

“Welcome, cadets,” Ortiz said. “War Commander Thacker had a prior commitment today, but he has recorded a video for you.”

An oversized holo-image of the commander appeared in front of the cadets.

“Today, you have the privilege and honor of officially joining the Lunar Defense Corps,” Thacker said. “Each and every one of you will serve an important role in safeguarding what’s left of humanity. We are all grateful for your service. Always ready, always vigilant.”

The feed winked off as the cadets repeated the motto of the LDC.

That’s it… Ronin thought.

“Your training will continue as soon as you are sworn in,” Ortiz said. “So let’s get started… put your hand over your heart and repeat after me.”

Ronin placed his hand on his chest.

“I swear to stand against the machines no matter what the cost, risking my life to preserve the human race,” Ortiz said.

The cadets repeated the line.

“I will serve with honor, distinction, and bravery,” Ortiz said.

Again, the cadets repeated after the lieutenant.

“I will remain true to the LDC and never waver from my orders,” she said.

Ronin felt Micky looking at him again as they repeated the line.

With a rare smile, Ortiz nodded.

“Welcome to the Lunar Defense Corps!” she shouted. “Always ready, always vigilant.”

The young troopers shouted the motto, their voices echoing. The lines quickly broke up into individual platoons for assignments.

Ronin joined his platoon in front of Ortiz and Zlaner.

“Trooper Ronin Hayashi,” Zlaner said. “You will be in charge of Red Squad.”

A few of the troopers congratulated and patted Ronin on the back, but Micky said nothing. He wouldn’t even meet Ronin’s gaze.

On the way back to the barracks, Bradley walked next to Ronin.

“Don’t worry,” Bradley said. “Micky’s just jealous, but he’ll get over it.”

They got into line behind Micky back at the comms booth. The groups inched ahead in silence as each trooper went through their allotted time period.

As they got closer, Micky finally acknowledged Bradley and Ronin.

“I finally get to talk to my dad,” he said. “Feels like forever.”

“Since he’s here at Kepler, maybe you’ll get to see him soon,” Ronin said.

“I hope so.”

Another trooper went into the booth. Bradley was up next. He reached up to straighten his collar. When it was his turn, he sucked in a breath and entered, leaving the drapes slightly ajar.

Ronin didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help looking at Bradley’s parents on the monitor inside.

From what Bradley had told him, they were both in their fifties. They looked much younger due to obvious anti-aging routines. Bradley’s dad had a full head of brown hair and wore translucent white glasses that were definitely for aesthetic purposes only. His mother’s brown hair was secured in a braid by a gold hair clip.

“Wow, you look like an entirely different… man,” said his father. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Are you safe? Are they feeding you okay?” asked his mother.

“I’m fine,” Bradley said. “I’ve made some good friends, and I’m with a good platoon.”

“I’m proud of you, son,” his father said.

Ronin finally looked away, thinking of his own father, who he would never see again. He was happy for Bradley and his family, but seeing them talk made Ronin hurt for his mom.

A minute later, the drapes opened, and Bradley stepped out.

It was Ronin’s turn.

His scheduled call with Elan was running a minute late according to the comm-pad, so he decided to record the message to their mother first.

He tapped the record button and forced his lips into a sincere smile.

“Mom, hi… I… I, uh, I miss you so much and hope you’re okay. I think of you all the time.” Ronin sighed. “I think of the day I’ll see you and Elan again. Hopefully, that isn’t too far away.”

He paused.

“I know you’re worried, but I just graduated as a trooper. I’m in good hands with a great platoon lieutenant and a sergeant with experience fighting the machines.” He had to take a breath, feeling himself choke up. “I think of dad a lot. Uncle Akira too. I know they would be proud. Whatever happens next won’t be easy, but I know I’ll see you and Elan again… I love you, Mom.”

Ronin hit the transmit button and then tapped the screen to connect with Elan. His heart thumped in anticipation of seeing his brother, but the screen remained dark for a second.

He tapped the connection again.

“Dammit,” he said under his breath.

He tried a third time, then a fourth. It didn’t seem to be a matter of the connection. His brother simply wasn’t there.

Had something happened?

Ronin stared at the screen, the seconds ticking by. Each one was agonizing, and by the time a minute had passed, Ronin felt full-blown panic swelling in his chest.

“Come on, Elan. Where are you?”

With ten seconds left, Ronin accepted he wasn’t going to see his brother today. Something must have come up. Surely there wasn’t anything serious to worry about, or they would have heard about it.

Ronin stepped out of the booth, trying to convince himself of that.

But what could have happened to pull Elan away from his comm time?

He lowered his head in despair as he went back to the barracks to prepare for their next round of training.

After undressing from his parade uniform, Ronin slipped into his vacuum-rated suit. They were headed back to the surface for an armed patrol.

Voices called out across the room, punctuated by the tap of heavy boots.

Micky suddenly walked away from his bunk.

Ronin finished zipping up his suit when he saw them—two troopers in black armor, signifying special ops. They crossed the room, side by side, like they were on a mission.

“Ronin Hayashi,” one of them said.

“Yeah,” Ronin said.

“Come with us.”

Zlaner jogged over. “What’s this about?”

“We’re here to escort Ronin Hayashi to command.”

Ronin’s heart leapt as the other kids watched him with suspicion. Micky folded his arms over his chest, one brow raised.

“What’s going on?” Bradley asked. He took a tentative step forward, but one of the troopers motioned for him to get back while the other spoke with Zlaner.

“Can I see your orders?” asked the sergeant.

“Orders are from War Commander Thacker himself,” said the trooper. “Now get out of the way, Sergeant. The kid’s coming with us.”

***

The fire consuming the apartment building across the street crackled before the frame finally gave way. A blast of soot and ash exploded outward as Chloe crossed the road behind Tadhg and Cyrus.

The wave of dust and debris slammed into them with enough force it knocked Chloe to the ground. Tadhg quickly scooped her back to her feet and brushed her off.

“You okay?” he asked.

Chloe nodded as the dust cleared around them. Tadhg didn’t wait for it to be gone. He strode through the dissipating cloud with his rifle shouldered, sweeping for contacts.

All Chloe saw was death.

In the street, two crushed corpses with tread marks clung to the pavement under a layer of ash.

On the next road, Chloe stopped midstride at the worst sight yet.

Hanging from light poles were the shriveled husks of humans. She took in a breath, trying to manage her emotions, but this was too much.

“Hey,” Tadhg said. “We have to keep moving. Just look away, okay?”

Chloe slogged on, her body on autopilot. He guided them into the bottom ramp of a parking lot jammed with vehicles covered in ash.

He pointed past the thirty-plus cars at the back wall. Then he reached to a holstered plasma pistol and handed it to Chloe.

“Take this,” he said. “I’m going to scope things out. I won’t be far.”

“Wait… You’re going to leave us?” Chloe asked. She couldn’t mask the fear in her voice as she took the pistol in a shaky hand.

“I need to get a look at the surrounding area.”

Tadhg motioned toward the largest surviving apartment building, at least fifty stories tall.

“Try and get a few minutes of rest,” he said. “We have a long way to go.”

Cyrus guided Chloe toward the wall and got behind a car. There was an exit door about five feet away with an enclosed stairway that led to the top ramp.

For the past few hours, the trio had moved slowly through the slums.

This was worse than anything Chloe had seen during the war with the Coalition.

It horrified her, but she should have known what awaited her on the surface of Earth with Doctor Otto Cross trying to bring his gruesome plan for humanity to life.

The reset he had desired was coming true.

And yet, hope still burned in her pocket.

Nothing would stop her from finding Apeiron and delivering the virus Jason Crichton had coded before his death at Atlas Station.

Suddenly, a high-pitched grinding noise ripped into the parking ramp.

Chloe started to peer over the back of the car she hid behind, but Cyrus stopped her, pulling her down.

The noise came again like a shovel scraping over pavement.

She got down on her belly, looking under the car now. The skeletal feet of a Hummer Worker Droid walked into the other end of the ramp.

The grinding came again, but it wasn’t coming from the worker droid. This was from somewhere outside the ramp, in the street or beyond.

Tightening her grip on the pistol, Chloe readied herself for a fight. Not a moment later, she got her first look at the approaching Hummer Droid. A knot twisted painfully in her gut.

The facial screen that might have once displayed a friendly human face was now covered with flaps of bloody skin.

It carried a pulse rifle in one hand and a meat cleaver in the other.

Two more droids clattered into the parking ramp, both holding knives and pipes covered with dried blood. These were silicon service models, made to look human. That was before the flames had burned their pale flesh.

Now they looked like melted candles.

The source of the grinding continued up the ramp. It was getting closer.

Cyrus leaned back down.

“We have to try and get to the roof, and then find a way down,” he whispered.

“What about Tadhg?”

“We can’t wait here for him.”

The three droids stalked between the cars, getting closer by the second.

“I’ll cover you,” Cyrus said. “Go… now.”

Chloe bolted into the stairwell. Cyrus was right behind her without firing a shot. They loped up to the top landing with a door open to the roof of the ramp.

Storm clouds drifted across the sky.

She looked for a way off the roof, but they were cornered worse than they had been down below. The only way off was to jump.

Chloe went to the railing when she heard the grinding again.

A glance over the side finally revealed the source—an unmanned truck on treads with a bloody snowplow scraping over the road below.

Cyrus waved Chloe on to a blackened pickup. They got behind the tailgate, aiming their weapons at the open doorway. Any hope the droids weren’t following faded away when a red glow filled the stairwell.

“Get ready,” Cyrus said.

Chloe moved her finger to the trigger of her pistol. She kept thinking Tadhg would show up and slay the machines, but that red light crept up the passage until she saw the bloody mask.

She fired a bolt right into that mask. Another couple of shots sent the droid crumpling to the ground.

The two service models clambered over it. She pulled the trigger over and over, but these droids weren’t standing still, and most of her shots missed.

Cyrus fired calculated shots, one burst taking off the upper skull of a machine. It slumped to the side, right as the other charged. One of the eyes hung loosely from a socket. The other glowed orange as it fixed itself on Chloe.

The service droid leapt into the air, knives in both hands.

Chloe backed away from the truck, tripped, and fell to her back as the creature landed on the hood. It slashed at Cyrus, knocking him backward too, before lunging at Chloe.

She raised her pistol and fired right into the orange glowing eye. The bolt burned into the CPU, and the machine collapsed, landing right on Chloe.

Cyrus was there a minute later, pulling the machine off and helping her to her feet.

“You okay?” he asked, looking her up and down.

She managed a nod, still reeling from the shock.

A distant shriek cut through the night, piercing the grinding of metal on the road below.

As the high-pitched noise grew louder, Chloe cried out from the pain to her eardrums.

Cyrus reached down to help, but he too became disabled, and they both went down to their knees.

She turned toward him, seeing movement across the rooftop. Her vision blurred from her pounding head, but she could make out a metal figure heading right for her and Cyrus. The new Hummer Worker Droid had flanked them somehow and was now charging at them with metal fingers outstretched.

Cyrus saw it too, and pushed Chloe out of the way toward the stairwell. She tripped over the downed droid there. The back of her helmet hit a stair with a thud. She slid down the rest to the bottom, stopped by the wall.

Above her, the droid slammed into Cyrus.

When she got up, she realized the high-pitched shriek had stopped.

Chloe got up and clambered up the stairs, fear curling inside of her body. She was almost back to the top when the clatter of metal against concrete sounded from behind her.

She halted and reached for the pistol, but it wasn’t there. She looked back toward the landing, spotting it on the concrete.

The knot in her stomach tightened at the clatter of metal and footfalls. There was no mistaking it. More machines were coming up the bottom ramp.

She turned back to the open door above, seeing Cyrus was on his back, the machine strangling him.

“Cyrus!” she screamed.

A moment of regret filled her augmented heart.

She should never have asked Cyrus to come with her.

Chloe lunged back to the landing and picked up her pistol just as a flash of gray entered the stairs below the landing. She brought it up and aimed it as this new hostile reached up toward her.

“Chloe!”

She eased off the trigger when she saw it was Tadhg. He looked up the stairs, and kept running to the rooftop.

By the time Chloe got back on the roof, Tadhg was on top of the machine, pounding the face in with an armored elbow.

She ran over to Cyrus. He was holding his shoulder, blood oozing between his fingers.

“Go, back down the stairs!” Tadhg shouted.

He led them off the rooftop down into the ramp. The snowplow waited for them at the lower level, engine revving.

Tadhg ran right toward it.

The truck barreled toward him, raising the plow.

He jumped over it and landed on top of the hood, where he thrust his sword down into the engine.

“RUN!” he yelled.

Cyrus and Chloe darted past the whining machine. She looked over her shoulder as Tadhg twisted the sword, disabling the automated monstrosity.

He jumped down and followed them into the road. The asphalt shook with a relentless quaking as they searched for cover.

Tadhg took them into a courtyard between two dilapidated buildings, past mangled playground equipment and dead trees. Tadhg didn’t stop until they got to the bottom of the largest building.

He waved them inside and onto the stairs. Cyrus kept his hand on his shoulder during the ascent, blood dripping out of a crack in his armor.

At the landing to the third floor, Chloe stopped.

“We need to stop the bleeding,” she said.

“Just a few more floors,” Tadhg said.

“I can make it,” Cyrus wheezed.

Their flashlights hit a body on the fifth floor. A dead man sat slouched against the wall, his head crushed like a melon.

At the sixth floor, Tadhg finally opened a door. He went into the hallway, cleared it, and motioned for them to join him in an abandoned apartment.

Tadhg went straight to the window.

“Stay there,” he said.

“What if they find us up here?” Chloe asked.

“Let me think.”

Chloe helped Cyrus onto a couch and pulled out a med kit.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” Tadhg said, watching out the window.

“What?” Chloe asked.

Tadhg didn’t answer.

Chloe joined Tadhg behind the window as Cyrus removed his broken armor. Outside, a flood of movement rushed through the heart of the slums. That was the source of the quakes they had all felt in the road.

“Are those…” Chloe gasped.

Thousands of droids ran down streets, some jumping onto cars where they scanned the surrounding buildings. Others broke into the doors and windows, continuing their frenzied search.

Tadhg pointed to another building about two blocks away.

It took a moment until Chloe noticed what he had seen.

A white light blinked from a rooftop.

“I think it’s the rebels,” he said. “They must know we’re here. You take care of Cyrus. I’ll keep watch.”

Chloe returned to Cyrus’s side. “How bad is it?”

“I’ll live,” Cyrus replied. His shoulder armor was completely off now, and there was a puncture wound weeping blood. He had already rummaged through their medkit and pulled out supplies.

“Let me,” Chloe said.

She started to clean the wound and was already dressing it when Tadhg returned.

“I think they are telling us to come to them,” he said.

“How do you know those are rebels and not the enemy?” Cyrus asked.

“I don’t, but if it was the machines, why signal?” Tadhg turned to the window. “If I was the enemy, I would just send a missile right through that glass and blow this room to hell.”

“Good point.”

“Okay, say it’s rebels, how do we get across the streets to them?” Chloe asked. “Those droids are everywhere.”

Cyrus winced as Tadhg helped him to his feet to reattach the shoulder plate.

“We don’t cross them,” Tadhg said. “We go under them.”

— 21 —

Akira made a beeline back to Sagamai Bay through the ruined city.

Even with the distance he had put between himself and the crater, he could still feel the impact of the massive superstructure legs hitting the ground. Each quake pushed him to run harder, despite his exhaustion.

He took a sip of water from a straw in his helmet. His HUD told him he was down to five percent left. It wasn’t just the water supplies that were low. His body was running on fumes. The mission clock read twenty-three hours. Almost all of it spent being on the move.

But this wasn’t the time to let up.

If all was going to plan, Apeiron was now on the Pelican, and the submarine would be on its way to Sagamai Bay to evacuate Kobe and his people.

Akira went through the medical controls on his suit and activated the stims. One of the needles in his suit injected him with a rush of stimulants.

Enough hopefully to get him to his goal.

Ahead were the giant, half-destroyed slabs of the megacity’s wall. Seeing no way through, he began climbing the toppled columns.

By the time he got to the top, he was sixty feet above the ground, higher than any building around the crater. From here, he could see the first superstructure and the red beams raking over the dirt.

Across the crater, he could vaguely see the other machine. But this one wasn’t moving.

Using his rifle scope, he zoomed in on the structure that had mounted the side of the crater. Tendrils lowered from the bottom of the tower, dangling between the wide legs and down toward the dirt.

“What in the…” Akira whispered.

Stringy metal creatures writhed down those tendrils.

“Condas.”

Akira prayed Kobe and his people were long gone. He turned away and found a route back down to the ground on the other side.

The beach where he had arrived a day earlier was just two miles away through woods that were just as dead as the city.

Akira burst through the forest, his armor snapping through bushes and breaking low-hanging limbs. But a rare sight stopped him at a clearing.

A rocky hill in the distance between him and the beach stood out from the rest of the burned terrain. Trees rose from the bluff, the branches still covered in leaves.

He climbed the hill, finding an enclave of forest protected by a fortress of rocks. To his shock, this refuge teemed with life. A bird swooped from the upper branches of a tree where hungry babies chirped from a nest.

Grass blew in the wind, still green.

A racoon poked its black eyes out of a burrow to examine Akira before diving back into its shelter. This place was not just a reminder there was still time to stop Otto, but also that humanity wasn’t the only species at risk of going extinct.

Akira emerged on the other side of the bluff filled with new hope. Mist drifted away from Sagamai Bay in the distance.

Two and a half hours had passed since deploying Okami with Apeiron. If the droid made it to the sub and Captain Thomas accepted the orders, then they would be waiting out there.

Akira advanced cautiously down a slope to the road. He raised his rifle and scanned the haze for movement. According to his HUD, he was a mile away from Kichiro’s beacon. Okami was still too far away to locate.

He ran hard to cover the last mile until a distant shriek cut through the still air. A slight vibration shook up from the road and into his feet.

His first thought was the superstructures at the crater, but this felt closer.

Akira pulled out one of his katanas but did not turn on the energy blades. Slowly, he continued down the road.

The sound of the surf greeted him, welcoming him to the beach.

He started toward the shore, searching the haze drifting across the road. The beacon was close, only about fifty feet away, but Akira still couldn’t see Kichiro.

He hunched behind an abandoned truck and let out a whistle.

Clattering sounded. It was familiar, but he kept his guard up until he confirmed it was the rap of hooves. His six-foot-tall armored horse strode out of the mist.

“Kichiro,” Akira said.

He ran to the droid, who raised a leg and let out a whinny.

“It’s okay, my friend.”

Akira climbed up into the saddle and whistled. Kichiro trotted down the sandy beach and into the surf, where Akira pulled up on the reins to stop the droid.

He searched for the Pelican or any supporting crafts. But after a few minutes of looking, he saw nothing.

No sign of the submarine or Okami.

He checked the beacon locator on his HUD again, but the droid was still too far out of range to detect.

Akira turned Kichiro, and they returned to the road. There were just twenty minutes left before Kobe was supposed to arrive with his people.

After a few moments of waiting, Akira rode Kichiro back to the green refuge on the bluff. The vantage would give him a view of the crater and the bay.

Right as they started up the path, Akira felt the tremors again.

There was no mistaking them. These were from the superstructures.

Kichiro continued up the rocky path and into the forest. The quakes were closer now, rattling pebbles and shaking branches. At the edge of the bluff, Akira stood in the saddle to search for Kobe and his people.

It wasn’t hard to spot the red light of a superstructure raking the terrain near the collapsed wall that once surrounded Megacity Tokyo.

The gargantuan machine clambered over mounds of rubble, moving surprisingly fast.

Akira couldn’t see what it was chasing, but it had to be the refugees.

There was no way they would make it to the beach at this rate. And if they did…

Akira felt his heart leap.

Had he doomed these people?

Kichiro backed away and raised both front legs into the air, letting out a neigh.

Akira patted the horse’s metal neck.

“Easy, easy,” he said.

Using his rifle scope, he zoomed in on the blackened terrain in front of the monstrosity. It took a few seconds to dial in a telescoped view of the city block. Almost all of the mid-sized buildings in the sector outside of the crumbled wall remained standing.

They were no match for the superstructure as it slammed into them, knocking them down like toys.

Two Praying Mantis Fighters roared overhead, and Akira ducked down as they shot over the bluff, dipping low, and curving toward the crater.

“Oh no,” he whispered.

The fighters flew over the superstructure and vanished on the horizon.

Akira got back up and searched the streets for people but didn’t see anything directly in front of the monstrous machine.

Had they gone inside the buildings? Or perhaps under the streets?

He finally saw movement five blocks ahead of the superstructure. A long shadow moved on the road.

It was actually an eighteen-wheeler with a military cab.

He followed it with his scope, watching as the front grill guard smashed through cars blocking the street. The route led right to the beach, but the truck wasn’t moving fast enough to escape the giant machine or the Praying Mantis fighters.

The two spacecraft returned, flying low over the city again. The turrets on their bows glowed blue before unleashing a flurry of bolts.

Explosions burst across the road a few blocks away from the truck.

Return fire shot into the sky from where the fighters had been targeting.

A pair of tactical rovers with skeletal frames sped down the street. A soldier on the rear-mounted turret of one blasted rounds at the Praying Mantis fighters.

He wasn’t surprised to see it was Kobe.

“You crazy son of a bitch,” Akira said.

Fish was in the back too, firing its plasma cannons into the sky. The bolts peppered the wings of a Praying Mantis fighter. The spacecraft tried to pull up, fighting for altitude before slamming into a tower in a gush of flames.

Akira felt a trickle of hope.

In the other rover, two human soldiers sat up front with a droid handling the plasma turrets in the back. The weapons would do nothing against the massive superstructure chasing them, but they made quick work of the other Praying Mantis fighter.

The craft burst mid-air, tendrils of smoke and fire chasing shrapnel from the destroyed vessel.

The superstructure slammed into the side of a building, in hot pursuit. Rubble cascaded down, the building leaning, and then toppling over. It crashed against the next ten-story structure, sending this other building into an uncontrolled collapse too.

Dust and smoke billowed out over the city, but the machine was tall enough to plow through the cloud.

Akira sat tall in the saddle, nervously glancing between the deadly chase and his HUD. He still didn’t see Okami’s beacon online, which meant the Pelican was likely out of range too.

Every second that passed, it became clear these people weren’t going to make it to the beach anyway, and if they did, they would lead the machine right back to the submarine, assuming it was coming.

Akira grew more anxious as he watched the rovers, hoping for a miracle. The enraged tower of metal tore through two more buildings. A shock wave of dust and grit exploded around it.

The truck and two tactical vehicles disappeared in the spreading cloud of destruction.

Plasma bolts suddenly lanced out from the haze, slamming into the command center of the machine. The tractor beams fired right back, tearing into the dust.

Switching to his infrared scope, Akira once again spotted the two tactical rovers. But they were no longer speeding away from the machine. The two vehicles peeled off in different directions, probably hoping the machine would pursue.

The machine stomped over a destroyed building and halted, the red beams flitting in both directions. Both rovers opened fire from a distance, spraying tiny bolts at the mammoth tower of dark metal.

The bait didn’t work.

The machine continued after the truck presumably packed full of survivors. It was about a half mile from the beach now, still slamming into cars. The constant obstacles were slowing it down.

Akira closed his eyes, picturing a page from the Warrior Codex. It was a lesson from a defeat that cost one of his ancestors the lives of an entire village.

In some ways, it mimicked exactly what Akira had done today. The samurai had been sent by his lord to evacuate a village from an advancing clan of warriors hellbent on raiding the countryside.

The samurai had left a group of Ashigaru infantry to help evacuate the villagers and told them he would meet them in the river valley with reinforcements.

But they never made it there.

The samurai had waited on his horse as the sun went down. When it rose again, he saw tongues of fire on the horizon from the massacre and destruction of the village.

At the end of the passage, his ancestor had written he should never have left them and instead sent ahead a messenger. He should have stayed behind to fight with the Ashigaru, even at the risk of his own death.

Akira had seen enough.

He turned Kichiro around and whistled.

They took off on a trail that led to the road. During the ride, Akira found his mind tortured by the agonizing decision ahead.

There were a few options.

Try and contact the Pelican and warn them away.

Return to the sub by himself if it arrived.

Stay behind and try to bring down the machine.

Kichiro started galloping down the road. The constant tremors and quakes drew ever closer to them.

Akira thought of War Commander Contos and his message about fighting when the time was right. And of Jackson, who had chosen to forfeit his life by facing the same type of machine back in Vietnam.

A dot suddenly popped up on his HUD. Akira focused on the beacon locator for Okami. His dog had done it, after all.

The Pelican had arrived.

With the world at stake, maybe there was only one real choice.

Akira guided Kichiro down to the beach. Waves slapped against them as they advanced into the surf.

Somewhere under the mist and dark water, the Pelican waited.

Akira again thought of the story from the Warrior Codex.

His mind drifted to another story he had written.

The first story of his journey to become an Engine.

Akira stopped the droid before it could go under the water, his mind focused on the day he met Kichiro, when they had distracted the Coalition and provided his commanders with the location of their artillery.

Perhaps there was another way to save Kobe and his people, while protecting the Pelican and its precious cargo.

Pulling on the reins, Akira turned Kichiro back to the shore.

“Time to ride, again, my friend,” he said.

He had hoped to see the war through to the end, but today, Akira had delivered the remnants of the Nova Alliance the means to do just that. The rest might be out of his hands.

Kichiro galloped up the sand.

Akira could see the giant machine in the distance. It clambered across the landscape, crushing houses, slamming into buildings, and firing tractor beams at the highway.

While Akira couldn’t see the rovers, he saw the return fire from one.

But only one.

His heart sank.

The other rover must have been destroyed.

Akira launched Kichiro down the road. The droid broke into a furious gallop. Metal hooves smacked the pavement, leaving fissures with every clattering hoof step.

As they escaped the mist, Akira looked for the highest hill in the distance. Someplace to get the attention of the machine. If Otto found out Akira was down here, surely he could attract the machine, giving Kobe’s people a chance to escape.

The truck swerved down the road, slamming into a wall of abandoned vehicles with a loud crunch. The cacophony of destruction from the advancing superstructure rose above all the other noises.

It was only two blocks away now, with a single hill separating Akira from the monster.

He whistled again, and Kichiro tore off the road and across a field toward the hill.

All sounds of gunfire had ceased.

Akira had hoped Kobe might make it, but it seemed he had given his life. It might be too late for Akira to pay his last debt to the man, but at least he could save his people.

The truck raced along the road and toward the beach. Akira and Kichiro passed it as they bolted up the fifty-foot hill, the ground shaking under them.

On the other side, the machine had halted with the six legs buried in crushed buildings. The command center angled downward as the red beams raked over the terrain.

“You want me, Otto!” he shouted. “Come kill me yourself!”

The beams shot toward Akira. Kichiro let out a whinny and raced down the other side of the hill before they could lock on.

Akira hung on as they bolted directly underneath the machine. The tower rotated and the enormous jointed legs lifted from the crushed buildings, debris cascading off.

This bait had worked.

As Kichiro took them racing down the street, Akira searched for cover. There was no way to outrun the superstructure. Their best bet was to lead it away from the beach and then lose the machine in the ruins of the megacity.

Quakes rumbled through the concrete, sending waves of cracks chasing after Akira. The behemoth tower of alloy let out an earsplitting roar that would bring a normal human to their knees in agony.

Kichiro bolted on unaffected, while Akira tried to focus past the ringing in his ears. Steel risers reached out from the rubble lining the road, forcing him to duck down.

The machine charged after them, still shrieking and firing tractor beams. It was almost on them. Any one of its bladed legs might crush Akira and Kichiro.

Akira was banking on the fact that Otto would want him alive.

But of course, the AI could just as easily have grown bored with trying to convert Akira.

Kichiro rounded a corner and galloped down the next street. Flames burned inside craters across the road, the evidence of the machine’s gunfire from moments earlier.

Inside one of those craters was the remains of a rover.

There wasn’t much left besides a smoldering tire and plates of metal around the mangled base. No sign of survivors either.

Kichiro jumped over it and kept going. The road trembled as the machine hurried to catch them. Smoke drifted away from more smoldering holes. Akira pulled out his rifle when he saw movement ahead.

To his surprise, it was Kobe.

The man stumbled out of a building, holding his side.

“Hey!” Akira shouted.

Akira slowed just enough to reach down and grab Kobe, swinging the so-called King up onto his saddle.

“Hold on!” Akira shouted.

“I can’t leave Fish!”

“We can’t stop!”

They raced down another street covered in rubble and scree. At the end, Akira saw their salvation—an old subway tunnel entrance.

Akira thought Kichiro couldn’t gallop any harder, but the droid proved him wrong. His metal hooves crushed rubble as he rushed toward their escape.

They were halfway down the street when the giant machine stabbed the ground just behind them. The road buckled, asphalt flying in chunks, but Kichiro kept strong.

“Go, go!” Kobe shouted.

For a fleeting moment, Akira thought they were going to make it.

A red saber that flashed overhead dashed his hopes. The laser hit the subway entrance in a devastating blast.

Kichiro tried to slow, hooves sliding, threatening to buck Akira and Kobe off. They came to a stop one hundred feet away from the now caved-in entrance to the subway.

One of the front legs lowered over them, the bladed foot opening into six, smaller blades that crunched into the ground, trapping them like birds in a cage.

The ground shook like an earthquake was splitting the terrain. Buildings collapsed into heaps, sending out waves of dust and grit. The road cracked under Kichiro, fissures snaking outward.

It was clear that Otto wanted Akira alive; otherwise, they would already be pulp and mangled metal.

Akira twisted and turned, looking for a way out, but they were trapped. Pulling out the katana, he let the sword warm in his grip.

Then he swung the katana into one of the blades, searing into the metal. He hacked again and again, molten metal slicing off.

But the thick claw was four-feet wide. It retracted, and came back down in front of them again, punching into the ground, forcing Kichiro to go up on its back legs.

The droid whinnied again. In the respite, a faint humming rose over the grinding and clatter of the tower.

Akira could have sworn he heard voices.

He held his glowing sword and listened more intensely, realizing it was singing.

“Deathhhhhh frommmmm the shaddddddows!”

The voice made Akira’s augmented heart pound.

“Akira the Brave will bring humanity salvation!”

Akira searched the street and rubble but saw nothing between the blades. He turned in the saddle, hearing another voice, this one robotic, also singing.

“Big Brave, Big Brave! Bring Salvation, Bring Salvation!”

A flash of light came from the sky and slammed into the machine.

The prison of blades suddenly fell away, along with the leg they were attached to, crashing to the ground in a quake that shook the ground.

“Go, go!” Kobe shouted.

Akira whistled.

Kichiro launched down the street, moving under the superstructure. As soon as they were free from under the monster, Akira saw two figures in the sky.

Blinky and Ghost, wearing jet packs and carrying missile launchers.

They flew around the tower, firing at the front legs that reached up to swipe at them. The whooshes sounded like King Cobras blasting through the air. Explosions burst across the extending limbs.

Akira felt Kobe grip him tighter around the waist.

Chunks of buildings gave way around them, tumbling across the road, and sailing overhead. Grit and dust burst upward, momentarily blinding Akira.

He held Kichiro, trusting the droid could find a way through the avalanche.

A raucous crack sounded behind them, and Kobe called out that two of the legs on the superstructure had broken.

Akira turned to see it for himself, watching as the entire structure collapsed.

“Wait, stop!” Kobe said when they reached the street where his rover had been destroyed. He turned to search for Fish, but there was no sign of the droid.

“We have to go,” Akira said. “I’m sorry, but your people are waiting. We can’t wait any longer!”

“Fuck!” Kobe finally gave a nod. “Fine, let’s go.”

By the time they got back to the shore, Blinky and Ghost had already landed. Dozens of footprints tracked out into the sand to the water, confirming Kobe’s people were already on board the Pelican.

Another landing craft was shooting over the waves to extract Akira and the others.

“Big excited to see you, Captain, big excited!” Blinky said.

Akira dismounted Kichiro and helped Kobe down.

“Let’s get you back to your people,” he said. “They are already safely on the sub.”

“Not all of your people, you dirty assholes!”

They turned toward a figure scrambling toward them. It was missing both its arms.

“Fish!” Kobe shouted.

The droid ran over, sparks shooting out of the holes where arms had been connected.

“Who’s this big rust bucket?” Blinky asked.

“Fuck off, tuna breath,” Fish replied.

Akira couldn’t help but smile as they piled into the landing craft that had beached. A Piston behind the controls fired up the engines and turned the boat.

Kobe collapsed on the deck, laughing as Fish and Blinky continued to bicker.

“Man, I haven’t had that much fun since I was a teenager,” he said. “But fuck, it hurts to laugh. Tell those bucket-heads to can it so I don’t keep hurting my damn ribs.”

Akira heaved a breath and took a seat next to his new friend.

“Not sure if I’d call that fun,” he said. “More like a miracle.”

Kobe stopped laughing and grew serious.

“Not a miracle, Captain,” he said. “It’s destiny.”

— 22 —

Jackson awoke shivering uncontrollably. He held a scratchy wool blanket around his naked body as he lay on a cold concrete floor, a rusted door looming over him.

It took a few moments to remember he was a prisoner again. This time, he belonged to the Coalition. But he didn’t know why.

Although he had a rough theory that he didn’t like thinking about.

Maybe these Coalition fighters had agreed to work with Otto. Maybe they were holding Jackson for the machines.

Footsteps rapped down the hallway outside his cell. He stood and staggered over to the door that had an opening to push food or other items through.

Two people marched past his cell. Jackson saw one of them was obviously a guard, but the other guy had multiple prosthetic limbs and a breathing mask with ribbed metal parts.

“What the f…” Jackson mumbled.

This warrior wasn’t Coalition.

This was a Dread.

Chains bound the robotic wrists and ankles of the augmented warrior.

Jackson sulked back from the door, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The chills gripping his body grew worse, and he sat down on the slab of concrete that served as a bed. But his shakes weren’t from fear or because this place was cold.

Beads of sweat covered his flesh. He reached up to his drenched mohawk.

He had a fever, and it was getting worse.

Jackson groaned as he pulled back the blanket to expose his wounds. Pus oozed out of the openings across his chest. The worms were gone now, but they had done a number on him.

He needed medical attention before the infections got into his blood. Sepsis had killed stronger men than him in the past.

Jackson heard footsteps approaching again. He wrapped the blanket back around his body and stumbled to the door. Leaning down, he looked out as the same guard again passed the cell.

“Hey,” Jackson grumbled. “You got to let me out of here, man. Come on, where is Tumea?”

The soldier halted, backtracked, and then bent down.

Jackson could smell the rancid breath before he saw the man’s face. The tattoo of a tiger marked his forehead, a paw reaching down over a scarred eyebrow and missing eye.

“Fuck your mother, Nova Alliance scum,” the man replied.

What little energy Jackson had left was used reaching through the gap and grabbing the guard by the face with one hand.

He squeezed hard, prompting a screech of pain.

“Open the cell, or you’re going to be sucking your food through a straw for the rest of your miserable life,” Jackson said through clenched teeth.

The man tried to respond, but his words came out in a slur.

Jackson squeezed harder.

“I’ll break your jaw, you dumb piece of shit,” he said. “You got five seconds.”

The guard opened the cell on the third.

Jackson pulled his hand back and pushed the door open against the man, slamming him into the cell across the hall.

The tattooed man’s head thumped heavily against the bars, but he still managed to turn. Right into Jackson’s fist. The crack of knuckles against bone was quickly followed by a resounding thud of a skull hitting against the concrete floor.

That attack was enough for Jackson to succumb to exhaustion. He tumbled to the floor, his blanket slipping off and exposing his flesh to the freezing ground.

He tried to move, but he was paralyzed from fatigue and fever. His body wanted to give out. Wanted him to pass out and sleep the sickness off.

The other guy wasn’t getting up anytime soon either, but that didn’t mean more guards wouldn’t come.

Jackson dug deep to find more strength. He pushed, trying to get up and only succeeding at falling back to the floor.

Get up, Andy. Get your ass up!

He rolled onto his back and strained to sit up, his head pounding.

Jackson grabbed the canteen off the unconscious soldier. He screwed off the cap, brought it to his lips, and took a gulp.

Instead of satiating his thirst with water, rum burned down his throat.

He spat some out, but enough had already made it down to warm his guts. The fire was enough to shock him out of his fatigue for a moment.

Next, he took the man’s keys, and then an energy sword. He used the weapon to help him stand. Looking down, Jackson considered taking the guard’s clothes, but there was simply no way he would fit in them.

Instead, he picked up the blanket and wrapped it around his body.

Using the sword as a cane, he started down the aisle. He checked through the ports in the other cells, finding more Dreads held prisoner. Unlike Jackson, the Coalition had kept them bound with chains.

He turned away and headed for the exit. Finding it locked, he fished through the keys until he found the right one. The door opened to another empty section of the prison that was two floors of cells. No prisoners. No guards.

He didn’t hear anyone either.

Water dripped from the ceiling, forming puddles in the center of the chamber.

Jackson didn’t stop until he got to the next door, this one already open.

Now he heard faint voices in the distance, and something else that reminded him of an old-fashioned radio. The buzzing and crackle led him through another chamber of empty cells to an administrative wing.

He slipped inside a room with rusted desks and chairs. Weak light flowing in from broken windows guided him across the space. The scent of smoke drifted from the dense jungles surrounding the prison.

Jackson checked out one of the broken windows. A pair of trucks were parked in the dirt just outside, their tires all flat and windshields cracked.

There was something else out there in the trees.

He squinted at the partially covered hull of a Hunter Ship.

“The fuck is going on,” he whispered.

Jackson gripped the energy sword tighter and pressed on, crossing the offices to a hallway.

Indistinct chatter hit his ears.

He staggered toward the voices, the crackling radio growing louder. It seemed to be coming from the end of the hallway. There were six rooms, the doors all open.

A figure moved out of one, but turned the other way before he spotted Jackson in the shadows. He slipped into a windowless room on his left with a single metal desk and chairs facing one another.

Handcuffs were attached to a ring on the table.

This must have been an interrogation room. He stayed inside, trying to hear the radio.

A familiar voice broke over the chatter.

“Time is running out to join us. Soon the next phase of the reset will begin.”

It was Otto’s voice.

“The future requires our transformation,” he continued. “I only ask you to suffer short-term pain for long-term immortality.”

Voices from the other end of the hallway responded. Cursing, grunts, and even some chuckling.

It seemed these Coalition fighters weren’t buying the broadcast propaganda. If that was true, then maybe they weren’t allies of Otto. Maybe that ship outside was one they had captured.

Jackson had to find Tumea. He had a feeling she was the only reason he was still alive.

He left the room and slowly walked down the hallway, trying not to make a sound. The radio room was on his left. He used the shadows on the right side of the hall for cover.

As he approached, he spotted three Coalition soldiers sitting inside, all facing the radio.

They reeked of body odor and smoke.

Jackson held his breath as he snuck by.

He made it past and through a door at the end of the passage. Once he was a few steps away, he picked up speed and didn’t stop until he got to the next door. A twist of the knob confirmed it was locked.

He tried a key to no avail. Then a second key. His fingers were growing shaky with the fever, the chills getting worse. On the third try, he dropped the ring to the ground.

The screech of a metal chair resonated out of the radio room.

Jackson picked up the keys again and tried one.

“Come on,” he hissed.

The fifth key went in and clicked just as a voice called out.

Jackson turned toward two men standing in the hallway, both holding energy blades. He opened the door, then passed through, shutting it as they came running. He pressed his weight against the door as he locked it to keep them out.

An oink and squawk sounded behind Jackson.

He slowly turned inside an old mess hall. On the other side of the room, past the rows of tables, sat a man on a raised platform on what looked like an ancient electric chair. Segmented arms with the blades still attached were draped over the back of the chair. Mounted on the top was the fanned head of a Canebrake.

“Well, Fuckin-A,” Jackson muttered.

The man on the chair scrutinized him from under an antlered helmet.

At the base of the platform were four heavily armed Coalition soldiers.

In his peripheral, Jackson saw more people sitting to his right and left at tables. There were chickens and pigs scattered across the room too, but his focus was on the leader of these soldiers.

Jackson held up the sword to the sound of laughter in all directions.

It took him a few seconds before he understood why—he was completely naked.

The blanket lay at his feet.

“Jackson!”

He squinted at one of the soldiers. It was Tumea. She started over to him when the man on the throne hissed something that stopped her midstride.

Jackson swayed, his body on the verge of collapsing. He took a step forward, the laughter giving way to shouts as he made his way toward the leader.

This was no ordinary soldier. No mere colonel that had taken the throne.

It was a Coalition War Lord.

The medals from dozens of slain Nova Alliance troops had been woven into his thick, long beard. And if the size of the antlers topping his helmet was any indication, he had killed many over the years.

The War Lord stood and the soldiers throughout the room went to their knees. Jackson refused to kneel.

Tumea glanced up but kept her head bowed.

“Down,” she whispered.

“I bow to no man,” Jackson said. “Nor do I bow to the machines.”

He staggered down the row of tables, gripping the hilt of the sword. More shouts called out from the bowed soldiers, but he ignored them.

The War Lord watched Jackson with menacing red eyes.

“Who is he?” Jackson asked as he drew closer to Tumea.

Tumea glanced up again.

“We call him Heart Eater,” she said. “He’s my ex-husband… well, one of them.”

Jackson might have laughed if he had the energy, but it took all of his concentration to just to remain standing.

The monster of a warrior picked up a long wooden shaft with a curved spear blade. He made his way down the platform to face Jackson.

“He needs a doctor,” Tumea said.

“I said we waste no supplies on him,” said the War Lord.

“He helped us…” one of the bowing subjects said.

“This Engine helped my family escape to the moon,” said another familiar voice. It was Colonel Boar.

“You fight with the Nova Alliance,” snapped Heart Eater. “It was your choice, but this is not your territory. Here he’s my prisoner. My property.”

“We might need his help again,” Tumea said. “He is strong, but he needs antibiotics to fight the infection ravaging his body. We can spare some of those.”

The wounds on Jackson’s chest oozed fresh pus and blood.

He survived the machines, and now he was going to die of a fucking fever?

The War Lord brought the curved side of the spear blade to Jackson’s neck, but Jackson didn’t even flinch.

“Kill me,” Jackson said. “Do what the machines couldn’t.”

Jackson felt a sting in his neck as the blade pressed harder. Blood trickled down his freezing flesh.

“Do it,” Jackson said.

He prepared to pull back and throw the sword into the chest of this man when the blade suddenly whipped away.

“Give him the meds,” Heart Eater ordered. “Make him well…”

Jackson raised a brow, wondering if this was a trick.

“I want him to be of full strength,” Heart Eater continued. “For when we fight, before I rip his heart from his chest and feast.”

Tumea got up as the War Lord returned to his seat. She reached out to catch Jackson just as he slumped to the ground.

“You’re either not as smart as I thought or that fever is making you dumb,” she said. “He will eat your heart.”

“He won’t be the first to try,” Jackson said.

***

Ronin sat in a wide office furnished with two white desks and a couch. It was somewhere in one of the middle levels of the main tower at Kepler Station, the largest structure on the entire base.

A wide window revealed the regolith along the edge of the crater over a mile away. The dust looked like snow in the pale sunlight. Normally, the view would be serene, but it did nothing to calm his nerves.

After a day of being held, he still didn’t know why he was here. It was only a few minutes ago they’d even brought him to this place.

He sat there, wondering if this had anything to do with why he hadn’t been able to reach Elan yesterday.

His mind raced with other possibilities, but nothing made sense.

The hatch finally slid open. A pair of LDC Troopers flanked a man with spiked gray hair and cold blue eyes.

War Commander Thacker.

Ronin stood and threw a salute.

“Sir,” he said.

Thacker walked right past to the viewport. At the glass, he let out a sigh.

“He really thinks he can save them,” Thacker said.

“Save them?” Ronin asked.

The War Commander finally turned to Ronin. “Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

“Tadhg,” Ronin said aloud.

This wasn’t about Elan.

This was about Tadhg, which meant…

“Where’s my brother?” Ronin asked.

Thacker raised a brow. “You really think you are here to ask questions?”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

The War Commander motioned for the two Troopers to leave the room.

“I don’t have time to waste,” Thacker said. “You’ll answer my questions and then I’ll decide what to do with you. Understand?”

Ronin nodded.

“Tadhg came to see you and your brother before you shipped off from Mesopotamia,” Thacker said. “Is this correct?”

A memory of the train platform and talking with Tadhg surfaced in his mind.

Ronin nodded again.

They must have had it on camera or perhaps someone told them about it.

“What did Tadhg say to you?” Thacker asked.

Ronin thought back to that moment, recalling how discreet Tadhg had tried to be. He had told Ronin he couldn’t trust the LDC, and he had a self-appointed mission he had to complete.

But Ronin couldn’t come out and say that… could he?

What if they had it on video?

If they did… then they wouldn’t be asking him questions, Ronin realized.

Unless this was some sort of test.

Doing his best not to give anything away, he looked the War Commander in the eye.

“Sir, when Tadhg came to see me, it was simply to tell me goodbye and good luck,” Ronin said.

“Is that so?” Thacker circled Ronin. “Tadhg had planned to kill me, but maybe you already knew that. Maybe you are not being truthful.”

“Sir, he did not tell me that, I swear. All I know is what we heard on the news announcements.”

Thacker scrutinized Ronin. He motioned for Ronin to go on.

“He did tell me that he had to do something, but I had no idea what it was,” Ronin admitted.

“He didn’t give you or your brother any specifics?”

“That’s correct, sir. My brother wasn’t even there for most of the conversation. I signed to him that Tadhg just wanted to say goodbye and wish us good luck.”

Ronin desperately wanted to ask about Elan but decided to wait.

“I saw the news reports about what Tadhg did,” Ronin continued.

“He killed three LDC Troopers,” Thacker interrupted angrily. “Three souls that we needed to protect this station.”

He hovered in front of Ronin, his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry, sir, I swear I did not know he planned any of that,” Ronin said. “I’m a Trooper now. I vowed to protect the people here. That’s all I want to do.”

Hatred burned in his gaze as Thacker stood there. “I’ve done everything I can to prepare for the day the machines come. To protect people like your mother. To make sure humanity lives on.”

Thacker turned back to the window.

“Tadhg believed we should go back to Earth, to try and find his former squad, including your uncle. I knew your uncle. He was a great warrior, but that means nothing against the machines. He is just one man.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Thacker faced Ronin again. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

Ronin shook his head. “No, sir.”

“I was told you made Squad Leader of the Machine Slayer platoon,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

“You have the blood of your uncle, but you don’t share all his traits.”

Thacker shook his head with dismay.

“A shame he didn’t teach you honesty.”

Ronin couldn’t help but look back at Thacker.

“Sir, I don’t understand…”

The War Commander pulled out a comm-pad and hit the button.

A holo image of Tadhg talking to Ronin at the train station appeared.

“We don’t have the audio, but we’ve got programs that can read lips,” Thacker said. “We know he told you not to trust the LDC. You should have shared this with us. Perhaps then we could have stopped him from his killing spree.”

Ronin felt his heart kick.

“Thankfully, not all of my troopers are traitors like you. One of your former squadmates brought this to the attention of a loyal officer,” Thacker said. “If it weren’t for honest men like them, I would never have known Tadhg went to see you that day.”

Former squadmate, Ronin thought.

Ronin thought back to the past few days of training, with Micky acting odder and odder. Then at the ceremony when he had glanced at Ronin during their oath.

Anger swelled inside of Ronin, flooding with panic.

“Sir, I swear, Tadhg didn’t tell me what he was plotting,” Ronin said. “I’m sorry I didn’t report that, but I had no idea.”

“You had plenty of chances to come forward.”

“Sir—”

Thacker raised a hand to cut him off.

“I was hoping I was wrong,” he said. “But I can’t leave a traitor in my ranks.”

Thacker called out for his guards, and the doors whispered open.

“Arrest him,” he said. “While Tadhg got away, you will not. Tomorrow, you’ll be executed.”

“What?” Ronin cried.

Thacker glared at him. “If Tadhg can’t be brought to justice for his sins, you will take his place.”

Ronin reached out, unable to control himself.

“Sir, no!” Ronin said. “Sir, I swear I wasn’t involved in anything other than serving the colonies. You need me! I want to fight!”

Thacker continued out the door.

“Please!” Ronin called. “Please, please don’t kill me!”

“I was wrong.” The War Commander turned slightly. “Not only do you lack the honesty that your uncle possessed, you lack his bravery. He would never have begged for his life like a coward.”

— 23 —

Tadhg waded through the knee-high river of muck, grateful to have a suit and armor. From the looks of it, they were trekking through a putrid combination of old sewage, polluted runoff, and the carcasses of rats.

Not even the rodents had survived after E-Day.

He kept moving after checking on Chloe and Cyrus, who were a few feet behind them. They moved slowly, guided by his lights.

Both seemed to be struggling through the grime, but it beat the alternative.

Above, the streets crawled with droids. Mostly Hummer Worker units and service models, but there were Canebrakes out there as well.

A sudden rattle confirmed that. This one was closer than what Tadhg had heard hours earlier.

He halted, shutting off his flashlight and hunching in the stagnant water. During a few peaceful seconds, everything was quiet. Then came the heavy thud of machine footsteps on the streets.

Multiple sets.

Definitely the larger worker units.

Tadhg waved the group on after the droids had passed.

“How are you doing?” Chloe whispered to Cyrus.

“I’m okay,” he replied, sounding weaker.

Side by side, they continued through the filth. Tadhg looked away and checked his mini-map.

“We’re only two blocks away,” he said.

Slurping sounded behind him.

Tadhg turned back to Chloe and Cyrus. They were side by side with Chloe holding on to Cyrus. No… he was pulling her away from something.

The lower half of a corpse popped up in the sludge.

Chloe gasped, the noise echoing up into the vertical shaft of the storm drain.

Tadhg stood his ground, aiming his rifle right above the body as it slowly drifted away.

None of them moved.

After a few seconds of silence, Tadhg let out a deep breath. He pulled a hand from his rifle and gave them the advance signal.

For the first few steps, Tadhg allowed them to pass him and backpedaled, keeping his rifle aimed at the storm drain. Finally, he turned and went back to the lead.

Another body bobbed up and down in the next tunnel. He pointed it out this time to make sure it didn’t surprise anyone.

“Reminds me of Moscow,” he whispered. “We were beneath an entire army, and we made it out.”

“A different type of army,” Cyrus said quietly.

“For once, a little optimism would be—”

The rattle of a Canebrake cut him off, the noise ripping through the tunnel.

“Run,” Tadhg hissed.

He hung back while Cyrus and Chloe took off, splashing ahead. Chloe looked over her shoulder before they made it around the next turn, and Tadhg waved her to keep going.

Rifle butt pressed against his shoulder plate, he covered their escape. A segmented mechanical arm with a hooked blade whipped around a corner.

They were made.

Tadhg pulled the trigger, the bolts peppering the wall.

The Canebrake pulled back out of view, and Tadhg turned away. He rushed through the sewage as he caught up to the others.

Cyrus pulled Chloe toward the next intersection. He stopped in the middle of it, looking left, then right.

It was clear he couldn’t decide which way to go.

Tadhg checked his mini-map and then shouted, “Go right!”

He resisted the urge to look behind, but he heard the rattle from the machine following them. Probably calling for reinforcements.

The pounding of feet quickened in the street above them. And almost worse, the putrid water was getting higher, making it more difficult for Chloe to navigate.

Tadhg, almost two feet taller than Chloe, plowed through the flow, helping her along. Somewhere behind them came the scrap of metal blades against the concrete walls.

“Down!” Tadhg shouted.

Cyrus ducked as Tadhg shouldered his rifle. Flashes of blue streaked down the tunnel. He focused his fire on the fanned head pursuing them as the machine jumped from the wall to the ceiling.

Chloe began firing her pistol.

“GO!” Tadhg shouted.

One of the Canebrake’s arms shot toward them, blade glinting in the dark. Tadhg yanked Chloe back just as the tip sizzled through the air where her helmet had been.

Shouldering his own rifle, Cyrus landed several rounds on the limb, forcing the machine to recoil.

“Keep going,” Tadhg said. “I’ll hold it back!”

Chloe and Cyrus waded past him in sewage that came up to their chests. Reaching over his shoulder, Tadhg pulled out his energy blade in his other hand.

The Canebrake was only twenty feet behind them now. It dropped down with a heavy splash, sending a wave of water crashing into them. Two of the machine’s arms shot through the wave.

Tadhg swung his blade, deflecting one of the limbs. The other lanced toward his waist. He moved a second too late, the blade searing through his right hip plate. He fired a burst into the Canebrake’s head, scoring a direct hit. One of the eyes exploded in a shower of sparks.

The machine scrambled backward, giving Tadhg a chance to put some distance between them. A long wail escaped the Canebrake. It was definitely injured, but this wasn’t a cry of pain.

Its call was answered by two electronic voices.

Reinforcements were nearby.

Tadhg could fight one, but not three.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Chloe had made it to a ladder hanging from a concrete ledge. After climbing up to the top, she reached back down to Cyrus and helped him up.

They stood together on the platform with their weapons aimed in the direction of the machines.

Tadhg charged through the water.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked, glancing down at his damaged armor.

“We have to keep going,” Tadhg said.

The sound of metal creaking stopped him mid-sentence. The door behind Chloe opened, and a black drone sailed over them.

The door shut again, Tadhg turned as the drone flew down the tunnel, away from them. It rounded the corner, out of sight.

An explosion boomed, a moment later, the ceiling collapsing.

Tadhg heard the door on the platform open again, and turned as bright beams of light flashed out across the platform.

“Chloe!” Cyrus yelled.

She backed away from the light, holding up a hand to shield her face. Her foot hit the edge of the platform, and she fell backward, splashing back into the water.

Tadhg hoisted her up from the muck. The beams hit him next. As water dripped down his visor, he saw shapes—human shapes.

Four Pistons strode out on the platform with rifles shouldered.

“Passage clear,” one said.

A Piston with a lieutenant insignia on his charred armor stepped up and looked down. “Who are you?”

“Sergeant Tadhg Walsh, Shadow Squad,” he said.

The lieutenant directed his light to Tadhg’s robotic arms. Then he motioned to a corporal holding a pistol and bio-scanner.

“Scan them,” said the lieutenant.

The corporal aimed the device at Tadhg, and then Chloe and Cyrus.

“LT, the passage is blocked, but they will find another way,” said another Piston. “We need to get going.”

The corporal with the scanner turned it off and nodded. “They’re clean, sir.”

“Let’s go,” said the lieutenant. “Keep close, and move fast.”

The officer moved through the open doorway. The other three stayed behind to hold security as Tadhg, Chloe, and Cyrus crossed into a tunnel.

“Keep quiet,” said the lieutenant.

He hurried down a long dry tunnel until they got to a ladder. Slinging his rifle, he started up. Chloe went next, climbing at least fifty rungs with Tadhg right behind. They emerged in an underground parking ramp.

Two black APCs waited, engines and lights off.

While a couple of the Pistons loaded up into one, Tadhg, Chloe, and Cyrus joined the lieutenant and a corporal in another. The APCs rumbled to life and pulled away.

“I’m Lieutenant Keith Farland, and this is Corporal AJ,” said the lieutenant. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Not sure you’ll believe us,” Tadhg replied.

“Try me.”

“The Moon, Kepler Station,” Chloe said. She reached for her vest but Tadhg stopped her, not yet trusting these men.

“We need to talk to your commander,” Tadhg said.

Farland lifted up his face shield to reveal a middle-aged face with dark brown eyes and sharp nose. A gray and black beard clung to his haggard features.

“You’re looking at him,” he said. “Now start talking.”

“We’re here on a mission to provide intel to Apeiron,” Tadhg said. “Intel that can help win the war.”

Farland looked at Tadhg skeptically and then pushed his shield back down without saying another word.

“Have you heard the transmissions from Captain Hayashi?” Tadhg asked.

“I heard a transmission,” Farland replied.

“Do you know how to contact him? He can help.”

“Help? Where’s he been since E-Day? We’ve been living like cockroaches while the machines pick us off one by one.”

He turned toward the front of the truck to talk to the driver, who wore night vision optics. The vehicles were entering an old cargo transport tunnel under the megacity.

“Aren’t there machines down here?” Chloe asked Corporal AJ.

“Oh, they’re down here, but we got drones like the one we detonated back in that tunnel watching for ’em,” he replied.

They sped through the black, tires thumping up and down over debris.

“You’re damn lucky we found you when we did,” Farland said. “We were on our way back from monitoring local machine activity. Something’s been agitating the machines.”

“It was probably our MOTH when we got here yesterday,” Tadhg said.

“No, the activity has been increasing for the past few days, and my contacts outside of Megacity New York said the hive there is more active than ever.”

“Hive?”

“Where they build new machines.”

Gray light flickered at the end of the tunnel.

“We’re going topside for a minute,” Farland said.

The two APCs raced toward the end of the tunnel when the radio crackled with a message from a scout.

“Hold position,” they said. “Repeat, hold position.”

The lead vehicle suddenly put on the brakes, jolting to a stop not far from the exit. Their driver slowed and stopped right behind it.

Farland went to the back hatch and hopped out.

“Stay here,” Tadhg said.

He joined the lieutenant and two other Pistons at the opening of the tunnel, sticking to the shadows. The road snaked out through a wasteland of rubble and skeletal buildings.

Tadhg saw what had spooked the scouts.

In the sky, squadrons of Praying Mantis fighters swarmed like birds. There were hundreds, circling over the heart of Megacity Boston.

“Something big is about to happen,” Farland said. He looked to Tadhg. “Hope your friend really does have some good intel, because we sure as hell could use it.”

***

The Pelican cruised deep under the Philippine Sea on the way back to Neptune Station. Akira hovered behind a row of holo-screens in the CIC with Ghost and Frost.

Frost wore a brace over her leg but seemed to be healing nicely, although Akira knew she would never admit if she was in pain anyway.

He went to Captain Thomas to ask about their ETA.

“We’re a little over two hours away,” replied the captain. “Still looks like we’re in the clear. Nothing on the passive radar.”

“And no word from War Commander Contos yet?” Akira asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

All of the Engines were worried about the War Commander. The deadline to open the letter was hours away, and Akira contemplated opening it now.

Not yet, give him more time…

“He could be back at Neptune already,” Frost said. “Right?”

Akira found that unlikely but nodded. “It’s possible.”

The hatch opened and Juno stepped inside, rushing past the two guards on duty. She wore an excited look on her freckled features.

“You did it, Akira… I mean, Captain,” she said.

“You can call me Akira. It’s fine.”

Frost rolled her eyes.

“What did the captain do?” Frost asked.

Juno jerked her thumb. “Come. I’ll show you.”

“Keep me updated,” Akira said to Captain Thomas.

Shadow Squad hurried out of the CIC with Juno. She took them to a secure workshop where Kichiro and Okami were on charging stations.

Across the long room, two Pistons were standing guard among the deep-sea mining droids that they had yet to deploy.

Not far from them, Blinky and Fish were both connected to a variety of machines. Discarded plates and coils of wire lay in a ring around the droids. They watched Akira, but neither of them said a word for once.

Juno went to a table in the center of the room where he recognized the drive from the Life Ark. It was hooked up to a holo-port.

Juno went over to the table. “I was skeptical at first, but I’ve run diagnostics on Apeiron. From what I can tell, it’s safe to bring her online.”

“Maybe we should wait until we get back to Neptune,” Ghost said. “War Commander Contos should make the decision.”

He looked to Akira for support, but Akira wasn’t sure.

What if Contos wasn’t coming back?

What if…

Akira could hardly bear the thought.

“It might be better to bring her online now, before we get back to Neptune, just in case Apeiron’s compromised,” he said. “That way, we don’t invite disaster to the whole station.”

“She’s fine,” Juno said.

“You’re one hundred ten percent sure?” Frost asked. “No offense, Captain, but what if the machines let you escape with her. What if it was a trap?”

“Then it’s the most convincing trap I’ve ever witnessed,” Akira replied.

“He would be dead if it weren’t for me and Blinky,” Ghost confirmed. “The machines didn’t want him to escape.”

“As a fail-safe, I can create a fully isolated system with no network connections to prevent any chance of Apeiron accessing any of the Pelican’s systems,” Juno suggested.

“How long would that take?”

“An hour, maybe less.”

“Okay, do it,” Akira said. “Have you checked the other droids, by the way, especially Fish? That droid needs some reprogramming.”

“Fish is a big asshole,” Blinky repeated in a robotic voice.

“Don’t fuck with me, I—” Fish started to say.

Juno used a remote to shut both of the droids off.

“Thank you,” Frost said.

“Ah, some peace and quiet finally,” Ghost said. “What to do now?”

Akira looked around. There wasn’t much else they could do here. He decided now would be as good of a time as any to check on Kobe and his people.

With Frost and Ghost by his side, he headed out for the cargo hold where the refugees were resting. As soon as he entered, the foul scent of body odor blasted into him.

Sprawled throughout the open space were the ninety-eight survivors extracted from Megacity Tokyo. Most slept on the ground, using blankets, towels, and whatever the crew had given them.

But a few of them were standing and talking. Out of that group came Kobe, holding his freshly bandaged side. He motioned to Akira.

Akira stepped back out into the passage and waited for the King of Tokyo.

“Captain,” he said.

“You already know Staff Sergeant Maria “Frost” De Leon and Lieutenant Shane “Ghost” Rossi,” Akira said.

“Yeah, I remember you guys.”

“Small world,” Frost said.

“How are your people doing?” Ghost asked.

“Pretty damn good thanks to Captain Hayashi,” Kobe said. “He kept his word. Got to say, first time I’ve trusted the Nova Alliance.”

The hatch opened, and Hina joined them. She looked at Frost and Ghost in turn.

“Guys, this my cousin,” Kobe said.

Hina offered a smile. “Hi.”

“She’s not usually shy, as Akira can confirm,” Kobe said.

“She captured me,” Akira said.

“Seriously?” Frost asked. “Guess you really should have brought me along.”

“Now I get to brag an Engine knocked me out cold,” Hina said with a swollen grin.

“How much longer until we reach your base?” Kobe asked.

“A few hours, if all goes to plan,” Akira said. “There will be food and showers available once we dock.”

Kobe smiled at that. “Warm showers?”

“Yes,” Akira said.

“Hell might be waiting for me when I die, but right now, a warm shower sounds like heaven.”

An officer marched down the hall toward them.

“Captain, you’re needed at command,” she said.

“We’re on our way.”

“Just you.”

Akira left the others and rushed back to the CIC. Captain Thomas motioned for Akira to join him in the briefing room.

“We just picked up a distress beacon,” he said. “It’s coming from the submersible the War Commander deployed. It’s encrypted, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

“Where is it?”

Thomas was already reaching down to the holo-map on the table. He pulled up the location of the Pelican and then the beacon.

“It’s between here and Neptune Station,” Thomas said. “Of course, if Contos was comprised, this could be—”

“An ambush, another trick from Otto, I know. But if the War Commander needs our help, I can’t ignore it.”

“We can’t risk the Pelican either, but you can take the remaining submersible.”

Akira simply nodded. He went to leave, but Thomas stopped him.

“Good luck,” Thomas said. “I hope it’s War Commander Contos.”

“Me too. Safe travels to Neptune.”

Akira left and hurried back to the lower decks. He wasn’t sure what to tell Ghost and Frost, but he had to tell them something.

They were watching Juno work when Akira returned to the workshop.

Juno looked up from the terminal she was working at.

All eyes were on Akira.

“Well?” Frost asked.

“We located a distress beacon from the underwater vehicle War Commander Contos took,” Akira explained. “I’m going to go check it out while the Pelican continues to Neptune.”

He raised a hand before they could protest.

“Permission to come with, Captain,” Ghost said.

“I can’t let you do that,” Akira said.

“Seriously?” Frost said. “If it’s about my injury, don’t worry. I can get around just fine in a sub.”

“That’s not it,” Akira said. “I don’t know what I’m going to find out there. If something happens to me, you have Apeiron… she’s the key now.”

“Akira, enough of this lone samurai act,” Frost said. “We work better together. You know that. Let me come with you, at least. You need someone to watch your back.”

“She’s right,” Ghost said. “I can stay behind and make sure everything goes smoothly with Apeiron. But you almost bit it outside Tokyo. If I hadn’t showed up… Akira, strong as you are, everyone could use an ally.”

Juno watched, and while she said nothing, he could tell she agreed with his squad.

“Fine,” Akira said. “Help Juno if she needs anything.”

“No problem,” Ghost said.

He and Akira embraced before parting ways.

After putting on their armor and grabbing weapons from the armory, Frost and Akira headed to the launch bay. The submersible he had used to get to Megacity Tokyo was already lowered into the water. A team of three sailors were making the final checks.

“You’re good to launch,” one said.

Akira and Frost climbed into the cockpit.

“How far are we going?” she asked.

“Not far,” Akira replied. He tapped the dashboard, bringing up the map. The beacon was fifty miles to the west.

“It looks like it’s on the surface,” Frost said. “That doesn’t seem good.”

“Not at all.”

The vehicle lowered into the launch tube, and after a series of checks, they fired out into the open sea.

Akira tapped on the autopilot. The thrusters blasted them away from the submarine.

“Maybe the War Commander’s okay and it’s just a mechanical issue,” Frost offered.

Akira wanted to believe that, but his gut feeling was something had gone wrong. That seemed to be the way of the world after E-Day.

He watched the beacon inch closer as they raced through the water.

“You think…” Frost started to say.

Akira glanced over. “What?”

“That we still have a chance to destroy Otto?”

“Yes. Just think of everything we’ve accomplished in the past two weeks. Now we know how to defeat him. There’s still time to save the planet.”

“I hope you’re right, Captain.”

They spent most of the ride in silence. Each minute that passed, Akira felt the anticipation of what they would find when they reached the beacon.

The wait wasn’t long.

He switched off the autopilot and took control of the vessel when they were two miles away. Frost watched the passive radar as he rose out of the depths toward the surface.

It was midmorning now, and sunlight speared through the water.

“No other contacts on passive radar,” Frost said.

“Okay, get ready,” Akira said.

She picked up her rifle while Akira guided the vehicle up. Silhouetted against the midmorning sun was the outline of the other submersible bobbing up and down on the surface.

He came up on the stern, their bow exploding through the water. The cockpit came down with a splash.

Frost popped the glass open and aimed her rifle at the other sub. The black vehicle looked unscathed, but the inside was dark.

Akira checked the sky for Praying Mantis fighters, but saw nothing.

He climbed out onto the bow where he picked up a docking line and lassoed one of the cleats on the other sub. Then he pulled them closer while Frost held her aim.

“I don’t see anything, Captain,” she said.

Akira felt his heart quickening. He hopped onto the stern of the other sub and walked over the top of it with a pistol in hand. When he got to the front cockpit, he leaned down and shone a light inside.

“Oh, no.” He waved for Frost. “Bring the medical pack. Hurry!”

He fired several bolts into the thick glass, cracking it enough to kick out a panel. Then he dropped down to the seats.

On the deck were two bodies, War Commander Contos and Corporal Bella Oliver, both stripped down to their suits.

Akira checked out the back compartment, but there was no sign of Toretto. Moving over to the bodies, Akira bent down to what looked like a pool of blood. He turned on his helmet light, shining it on both soldiers.

Soiled bandages clung to Bella’s right arm and her stomach. He felt her neck for a pulse. A weak throbbing met his finger.

He moved to Contos. Just like Bella, he was covered in blood-soaked bandages. Gauze pads were secured to his neck and anti-coagulant patches were strapped over his chest.

While he seemed cold to the touch, he still had a weak pulse.

Frost jumped into the space and knelt next to Akira.

“Oh, God,” she whispered.

Akira prepared to carefully peel back the bandages to get a better look as Frost rummaged through the medkit for fresh anti-coagulant gels and patches. Each of the removed bandages revealed burns.

When Akira pulled off the last soiled bandage from Contos, he let out a low groan. He didn’t open his eyes, but he turned his head slightly.

“Akira, is that… is that you?” he mumbled.

“It’s me. We’re going to get you back to Neptune, sir. Just hold on.”

“Did you find Apeiron?”

“I did. She’s on the Pelican right now, headed to Neptune.”

Contos reached out with a hand, grabbing him around the wrist with a strong grip.

“The LDC isn’t coming to help,” he whispered. “They never were…”

Contos opened a swollen eyelid to look at Akira.

“It’s up to you,” he said. “You have to strike before the machines launch… before they…”

His eyelid closed and Contos let out a gasp of air.

“Before what, sir?” Akira asked.

He felt Contos for a pulse, holding his finger for several seconds.

Frost looked over at him.

“Get out the defibrillator,” Akira said. “Hurry!”

— 24 —

Toxic rain pecked the glass windows overlooking what was once a manicured garden. Wind battered the twisted rose bushes and crisp, brown grass. The runoff washed the ash off the stone terraces and walkways that connected the acres of ruined landscaping.

The storm howled, rattling the windows Chloe stood behind. She moved back to the oak presidential desk, bumping into the edge. Then she turned back to the expansive office. It looked like it had once housed a diplomat or government official, with plush leather chairs and walls of built-in bookshelves. Persian rugs covered the hardwood floors and were placed under the red leather sitting chairs facing a brick fireplace.

A matching leather couch provided a comfortable spot for Cyrus as he slept off the pain meds the Pistons had provided. She checked on him before crossing the beautiful room back to the windows.

Lightning sizzled across the horizon, followed by the booming clap of thunder.

She had always wondered what types of people lived on estates like this. They were from a different world than the majority of the population before E-Day. Privileged with money, food, shelter, and hordes of droids to wait on them.

It was very likely those droids had ended up killing the owners of this place, long before the Nova Alliance found the isolated estate and the bunker under the cellars.

Chloe noticed a Piston patrolling outside.

It was a reminder that she and Cyrus weren’t free here.

Once again, she was being held against her will. Tadhg was still off talking with Lieutenant Farland while they were locked inside the room. Sure, the rebels were taking precautions, but it didn’t feel good.

The click of a lock made her flinch.

She turned as the solid wood doors opened. Two Pistons stood in the hallway outside with their rifles cradled. Tadhg walked up behind them, and they parted to let him inside.

The floor creaked under his heavy footsteps.

Cyrus sat up, blinking groggily.

“Sorry to keep you in here,” came a deep voice.

Lieutenant Farland stepped in just as lightning sizzled outside, the blue flash illuminating his serious features.

Chloe went over to Cyrus as he got his bearings.

“Are you going to tell us where we are yet?” she asked.

“Ten miles west of Boston,” Farland said. “You’re as safe as you can be right now.”

“There aren’t machines out here?” Cyrus asked.

“Not right now, according to our scouts and drones. The few Canebrake packs we’ve been tracking fled back to the crater in Boston.”

“Something to do with the Praying Mantis fighters?” Chloe asked.

“That would be my guess, which is why we don’t have much time.” Farland turned and motioned politely. “Follow me.”

Tadhg nodded his approval.

They left the office and headed down a wide stairway with a spiral banister to a vast ballroom with an impressive chandelier. From there, they took an enclosed stone stairwell down into a wine cellar.

One of the shelves had been pulled away to reveal a secret passage that went deeper underground. A guard stepped away to let them through.

Farland led them down into the bowels of the estate. Chloe wasn’t sure how many steps she descended, but it had to be the equivalent of ten floors. An old bank vault door was propped open at the bottom leading to a bunker.

Ten soldiers and officers worked around a row of tables. Ancient computers lay on the tables near wall-mounted monitors that looked decades old.

“Welcome to the war room,” Farland said. “I’m ready to see what Doctor Crichton gave you that he thought would change the war.”

Tadhg gave Chloe a reassuring nod.

She reached into the vest over her suit and pulled out the case containing Jason’s virus.

“I have to get this to Apeiron at the Life Ark in the city,” Chloe said.

“One of those bunkers? Shit, you got an army that I don’t know about? Cause it’s buried somewhere deep in enemy territory,” Farland replied with a snort. “So that’s what you risked your necks to come here for? No wonder the LDC didn’t approve that shit.”

“I spent the past two hours explaining the LDC abandoned you,” Tadhg said. “Sorry we’re not what you were hoping for, but we are the only hope you got.”

Farland eyed Chloe. “So let me understand this then. Doctor Crichton wrote this code for you and just you to bring here? What makes you so special?”

“I’m not…” Chloe started to say.

“I don’t like your tone, lieutenant,” Cyrus said.

Farland’s gaze shifted over to Cyrus, but Tadhg stepped forward to intervene.

“We’re all friends here,” he said with a grunt. “Right?”

The lieutenant glanced up at Tadhg.

“Yeah, we’re friends, but your mission is fucking hopeless,” Farland said. “You had me believing we might actually have a chance.”

“It’s not hopeless, lieutenant. I just need to find Shadow Squad.”

“Like I said, hopeless.” Farland shook his head wearily. “We haven’t heard from Akira for over a week. If he is out there, he’s too far from us to help.”

“There’s got to be a way to contact him. To let him know I’ve returned, and we have the key to winning the war.”

“But you don’t have the key. You said it yourself. You still need Apeiron.”

Tadhg grunted. “Look, all I’m asking is for you to send out a message. You do that, and I’ll go to Megacity Boston and extract Apeiron myself from that Life Ark.”

Farland stared at Tadhg like he was crazy.

“He’ll do it,” Chloe said. “He’s fearless.”

“Fearless isn’t always smart,” Farland said. “No offense, Sergeant. I know you’re an Engine, but first you’d have to sneak past thousands of enemy forces, then you would have to actually find the Life Ark. You’d be better off just walking right into their hive on the MIT campus and blowing yourself up. At least then you might have a chance of taking down their hub in this sector by destroying the servers there.”

Raised voices came from outside the open vault door. A Piston burst inside, mud dripping from his boots and the smell of smoke wafting off his uniform.

“Sir, there’s activity topside,” he said.

“Machines coming this way?” Farland asked.

“No, sir, not this way.” The Piston pointed up. “You got to see this, sir.”

Farland rushed out of the room without saying another word. The rest of the command staff followed.

“We sure as hell aren’t just sitting on our asses down here,” Tadhg said.

He ran after them. Chloe tagged along with Cyrus, winded by the time she got to the top. The group was moving out through the ballroom and through open doors to the terrace. Thunder boomed in the distance, shaking the wall panels.

The Pistons stopped under a tattered green awning.

Wind shifted through the gardens beyond, blowing the bushes and trees. The crack of thunder continued, with almost no respite.

Standing out in the rain was a single Piston. He pointed to the south as the soldiers moved to the edge of the terrace.

Chloe slowly walked outside. Cold rain pelted her exposed flesh. She turned toward the mansion and raised a hand to shield her eyes as she looked to the horizon.

The booming thunder continued.

But it wasn’t coming from the storm.

Rising into the sky were dozens of missile-shaped objects, venting brilliant tongues of flame.

“That’s coming from the crater!” someone yelled.

“The machines are launching those superstructures,” Farland said. He turned with his comrades as the sky lit up with clusters of smaller ships.

Joining the massive machines were hundreds of Praying Mantis fighters.

“This is it,” Tadhg said. “It’s what the LDC was preparing for. The machines are headed to the moon.”

“Uncle Keanu,” Chloe whispered. “We have to stop them…”

Tadhg strode over to Farland.

“Send that message, lieutenant,” Tadhg said. “We don’t have any more time. Tell Captain Hayashi we have the answer to the war. He’ll come. I promise you, he will.”

Farland watched the horizon.

“You’re too late,” he said. “The LDC didn’t help us, I’ll be damned if I help them.”

Tadhg grabbed him and turned him.

“This isn’t about the LDC,” he said. “This is about innocent people on the moon and survivors here on Earth.”

He leaned closer, holding up a robotic hand, rain sluicing off the metal as he pointed back inside.

“I’m not asking you again,” Tadhg growled. “You send that transmission to Captain Akira or you’re going to have to worry about more than the machines.”

***

Ronin shuffled down the passage with an escort of two Troopers. They were headed for the execution chamber. He had seen that chamber plenty of times on the live feeds since E-day. The LDC had ensured every colonist and refugee did.

He prayed his death wasn’t broadcast.

He couldn’t bear to think of his family watching this.

The fact that he was minutes away from death began to sink in when they reached the hatch to the chamber.

Since E-Day, he had been prepared to die, but he never pictured it happening like this. Falling in combat with the machines, sure. Killed by the very people that he had just sworn to protect?

That never crossed his mind.

The troopers opened the hatch and led him inside a circular space where space suits hung on mounts. In the center of the space was a metal grate charred from the flames that had incinerated other prisoners.

“You have been sentenced to death for aiding a known terrorist,” said one of the troopers. “Do you have any final words?”

The soldier directed a mirrored visor at Ronin.

From his reflection in the visor, he could see the fear in his eyes.

Ronin took a deep breath, doing everything he could to keep it together. But that was nearly impossible.

They were putting him to death for hiding his conversation with Tadhg.

No, they are killing you because Tadhg got away, Ronin thought. Because they failed to stop him.

He was the scapegoat.

The irony of it all was the LDC wouldn’t have even known about that conversation if it weren’t for Micky. The little bastard had reported him all because he was jealous Ronin had been selected as squad leader.

Was he really that petty?

Maybe Micky was too naïve to realize what his blabbering mouth had gotten Ronin into.

He couldn’t possibly have known it would lead to this.

No, this wasn’t all Micky’s fault. The War Commander was responsible too, and this was exactly why Tadhg had warned Ronin not to trust him.

“If you don’t have anything to say, then make your choice,” said the trooper. “Death by fire or the short walk.”

Ronin pulled on the energy cuffs binding his hands, resisting the urge to plead for his life. He thought back to how he had begged War Commander Thacker for mercy, but he knew these men weren’t going to grant him it either.

The soldiers both stepped closer.

“Pick, or we’ll pick for you,” one said. “Think of your death as a sacrifice to the colony. One less mouth to feed.”

“And one less soldier when the machines come,” Ronin said.

“You’re a traitor,” replied the other trooper.

“No, I’m not! I’m a trooper like you. I swore to protect the LDC.”

“So did Sergeant Walsh before he went on a murdering rampage. Make a choice. Now.”

Ronin looked from the suits back to the grate.

“I choose to walk,” he said.

The two soldiers took him over to a suit on the wall.

When he hesitated, one of the troopers shoved him against the suit. “That’s yours.”

Ronin felt anger replace the fear.

He recalled something Akira had written in the Warrior Codex.

Do not fear death. Remain calm in the face of it, and perhaps you will evade it.

Ronin knew remaining calm meant managing his anger.

He controlled his breathing and focused on the book, thinking of another passage.

In battle, there is always a way to victory. Sometimes it’s living to fight another day. Sometimes it’s a new strategy on the battlefield, and sometimes you must try something that seems impossible. Sometimes, when your choices seem to have run out, impossible is all there is.

A trooper pulled out a scanner.

“Hold out your hands,” he said. “You try anything, and you’ll regret it.”

Ronin held up his energy cuffs. The scanner unlocked them, and the soldier pulled them off his hands.

“Get dressed,” said the other trooper.

Turning to the suits, Ronin found one that looked like it would fit. He took a seat on a bench and put his legs inside, taking his time while searching the space for something to fight back with. If he could take down these two men, then maybe he could escape like Tadhg did.

The troopers both watched him from a few feet away. They were close enough he could lunge for one of their swords.

He buttoned the pants and started zipping up the vest. He waited for an opportunity to present itself, but both men looked ready, like they were used to their prisoners trying a desperate last attack to escape.

“Hurry up,” one said.

Ronin finished zipping up the suit. The truth was that even if he took these two guys down, there would be more inside.

No, there would be no escaping his fate.

Panic set in. He lost control of his breathing, his heart racing.

One of the troopers suddenly stepped back.

Ronin heard the crackling of a radio transmission, but he couldn’t make out any of it. His eyes went to the unguarded hilt of the energy sword the man wore. Before he could make a move, the other trooper stepped away.

They both hurried toward the hatch they had entered, leaving Ronin by himself.

Confused, he remained where he was, watching as they left without a word.

Was this some sort of trick? Were they broadcasting this after all?

Ronin looked toward the cameras hanging off the walls, but neither were trained on him.

He flinched as an alarm suddenly erupted in the chamber. A red light flashed from the ceiling. Through the viewport of the hatch, he saw the two troopers vanish around a corner.

An automated voice boomed through the passage.

“All hands to their stations. This is not a drill.”

Ronin couldn’t believe his luck. The machines were coming.

No, no, this wasn’t luck.

If the machines were coming, then he was trapped just like he had been in that tunnel with Orson, Bradley, and Micky.

Helpless.

Ronin rushed to the closed airlock hatch. He pressed his face against the circular window, peering through the chamber and out the viewport of the exit hatch. Several bodies lay along a path on the surface.

It was hard to see, but he could make out cannons on the domed rooftops in the distance. The barrels rotated at the darkness of space.

Three King Cobra Spaceplanes shot over the base. Two more followed, their thrusters flaring like comets.

He stood there for what felt like an hour, the alarm rising and falling. He also tried pounding on the hatch that led back into the base, trying to convince anyone to let him out.

“I will help you fight, you need me!” he screamed.

But there was no response. No one to help him.

Finally, back at the airlock hatches, he saw a sliver of Earth rise over the horizon. The blue ocean, and the brown shroud of smoke and grit drifting across the continents was oddly calming to him.

But there was something else out there.

Between the moon and Earth.

Ronin didn’t need a telescope to know what was creating the tiny blinking lights in the stretch of black.

The machines were coming.

Phase 2 was finally here.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had, but he knew he couldn’t stay here. He ran back to the hatch to the station, pounding on it again.

“Let me out!” he screamed. “I will fight!”

He hammered his hands against the door until they hurt so bad, he felt like they were going to break.

Reality set in.

No one was coming to get him.

Not anyone human.

— 25 —

Akira entered the cold room at Neptune Station that served as a morgue. He nearly broke at the sight of Contos lying on a gurney in the dim light. While Bella had survived her injuries, the War Commander had not.

A blanket was pulled up to his neck, covering the wounds that had taken his life a day earlier.

Akira walked over to stand next to his friend, mentor, and commander one last time. He then pulled out the note that Contos had left for him, and finally unraveled it.

Dear Akira,

Many years ago, after decades of war and bloodshed, I questioned my decision to dedicate my life to that of a warrior. I’m sure at some point all soldiers do the same when faced with their own deaths and the deaths of so many they love.

But it wasn’t just seeing friends die that made me question my decision. Long before the one woman I loved fell victim to SANDs, I told her I never wanted kids. Something she desperately wanted. It tore us apart, long before her death.

Years after she left this world, I began to ponder if I had made a mistake. Then I discovered you on that hilltop. You became like a son to me, Akira, and at the same time, strange as it may seem, a brother too.

If you’re reading this, you must have confirmed that I didn’t make it back from contacting the LDC. I know how you might take this as a contradiction that I gave my life for this, or that I kept it a secret. But when Jackson died, I had very few options. I knew if you and Shadow Squad found out where I was, you might risk your lives to save me if we ran into trouble.

You must know, I did not make the decision to try and contact the LDC lightly. On E-Day, I sent Tadhg with a message to request the support of their forces. I’m not sure if he ever made it, but I had to try one last time to plead for their help.

You might think I should have sent someone else, a droid even, but this mission needed an Engine. And with Shadow Squad focusing on Apeiron, this became my duty. I believe if I can talk to the LDC, if they hear my voice, I can convince them to send help.

But truthfully, that’s not the only reason I went.

What humanity does on Earth over the next days and weeks requires a leader that every man, woman, and child can rally behind. A man that is respected by his enemies and allies alike.

That man is not me. It is you, Akira.

That is the other reason why I could not afford to let you go. I lost the respect of our troops on E-Day when the machines rolled over us. But you have taken on overwhelming odds before and succeeded. You have also made allies with Coalition fighters.

Now, to take back our planet, we need you to lead our armies.

I know if there is any hope at all, it’s in you.

I loved you, Akira, your comrades love you, and you will lead them to victory.

-Dimitri

Akira let out a deep breath of despair. He put the note away and placed his hand on the War Commander’s chest.

“I wish I could have been there to help you,” he said quietly. “I’m so sorry…”

A hot tear rushed from his eye, and Akira bowed his head. He had loved Contos like a father and would have followed him to the end no matter the odds.

A knock sounded on the hatch, and Akira wiped his tears away. Frost and Ghost entered. Their eyes flitted past Akira to Contos. Frost held in a breath, raising her chin, clearly trying to keep it together.

“I’m very sorry to disturb you…” Ghost started to say, his voice cracking.

“It’s okay.” Akira gestured for them to stand around Contos. “Come in.”

“We’re not here to pay our respects right now,” Ghost said. He cleared his throat. “There’s been a development, something Captain Thomas said we needed to hear as soon as possible.”

Akira nodded. He turned one last time to Contos, and then closed the hatch behind them. They headed to the research center command room.

Captain Thomas was there with three of his crew from the Pelican. Across from them, Doctor Hayao stood with Juno.

“I’m sorry to call you here, now, while you’re in mourning,” Thomas said. “However, we just received an encrypted transmission from an undisclosed location somewhere outside of Megacity Boston.”

“The same rebels that told us about Captain Harback?” Akira asked.

“Not exactly.”

Akira, Ghost, and Frost hovered behind a comms terminal as the officer played the transmission.

“Captain Akira Hayashi…”

The message instantly crackled, but there was no mistaking that voice.

“Is that…” Ghost said. His eyes lit up. “That’s Tadhg.”

Akira motioned for the officer to turn it up.

“I escaped… the LDC… came to find you, and Apeiron—”

Again the transmission broke up.

“We have the key to winning the war, but we need Apeiron and we need—”

“Could this be a trick?” Frost asked.

“That’s Tadhg,” Ghost said. “That’s our brother!”

Akira wanted to believe it, but how was this possible?

Hearing the transmission brought back the feeling of hope that had been ripped away when Contos died.

“Is that the whole message?” he asked.

“No, there’s more,” said the comms officer. “It came through scrambled, probably partly due to the encryption. Doesn’t seem like they have access to as good of comm equipment as we do. I’m almost certain this is legitimate, based off the encryption.”

Ghost put a hand on Akira. “He’s alive, Captain. Tadhg is freaking alive!”

“The big dumb lug made it,” Frost said with a chuckle.

Akira held up a hand as the officer got the last part of the transmission working.

“The machines have launched an army to the moon,” Tadhg said. “Kepler Station won’t be able to hold them back for long. We don’t have much time.”

The message chilled Akira to the core.

The rockets on the superstructures they had seen in Osaka were indeed to blast them into space. That meant Ronin, Elan, Lise, and a million other innocent people were at risk.

“What are we going to do?” Frost asked.

“What War Commander Contos would have done,” Akira said. “We have Apeiron, and it sounds like Tadhg has a weapon that will help us.”

He looked at Ghost and Frost in turn.

“It’s time to rally the forces and deploy to Megacity Boston with Apeiron,” he said. “We will find Tadhg, and then strike Otto before the monster knows what hit him.”

Thomas stepped forward. “Boston is over eight thousand miles away. It would take over a week to get there in the Pelican. Kepler Station doesn’t have that much time. They might not even have a day.”

“I might know of a way,” Juno said.

Everyone turned toward her.

“We have two Queen Sea research helicopters at the Northern Mariana Islands,” she said. “Assuming they’re still there, they’re large transports that can carry your submersibles and around forty-five to fifty people between the two of them.”

“That’s true,” Hayao said, “but those choppers are unarmed and don’t have stealth technology.”

“No, but they’re fast and could carry extra fuel to get you to Megacity Boston,” Juno said. “I could also upload the same program we’ve used to disguise our droids. In theory, it might make the choppers appear on enemy radar as part of Otto’s forces.”

“That’s a big might,” Frost said.

“When we get a few miles away from Megacity Boston, we could drop down in the subs and ferry in undetected,” Akira said.

It was a wild idea, but it was the only plan that would get them there in time.

If you get there at all…

Ghost looked uncertain, and so did Frost.

The plan was enormously risky, but what else could they do?

“Frost, you think you can fight with that leg?” Akira asked. “Honestly?”

She looked down at the brace. “It’s not 100 percent, Captain, but I can still shoot a fly out of the air.”

“I believe that.”

Akira thought a moment, then nodded.

“You and Ghost get a team ready to find those choppers,” he said. “Captain Thomas, prepare one of the submersibles for them, and get a message out to gather all troops in the briefing room. I’m going to send out a transmission to rally survivors around the world. In twelve hours, we meet back here and deploy with Apeiron.”

“I’ll get the AI and our droids ready with Doctor Hayao,” Juno said.

She hurried out of the command center with Ghost while Akira turned to the comms officer.

“I need you to prepare an encrypted line for a message,” he said. “Can I have the station?”

“You got it, Captain,” she said, standing. “All yours, sir.”

Akira knew exactly what to say. He had waited over a month for this moment.

“This is Captain Akira Hayashi of Shadow Squad. If you’re hearing me now, the time we have all been waiting for has finally come. The time to draw swords and take back the Earth. In a day from now, we will strike Otto and his legions with everything we have.”

After recording the message, he got up to find the crew and officers watching him.

Captain Thomas stood at the ready, waiting for orders.

“Send that out to all of the locations we found survivors,” Akira said. “I want coordinated attacks against Megacities across the world, including Osaka, which we will strike with the Pelican. Those attacks will distract Otto while I infiltrate Megacity Boston and connect with Sergeant Walsh.”

“Understood,” Thomas said. He relayed the orders to his team, then turned back to Akira. “The troops you requested are starting to meet in the briefing room.”

“How many do we have?”

“Twenty-five in fighting condition.”

Akira narrowed his eyes. With the death of War Commander Contos and Sergeant Toretto, as well as Corporal Oliver’s grave injuries, they were down far too many badly needed warriors.

“I’ll be there shortly to go over this plan, but first, I’m going to see if I can recruit a few more,” Akira said.

He left the command center and hurried to the cargo hold where the refugees from Tokyo and Cat Ba island were staying. As he entered, rows of people got up from their sleeping bags and makeshift beds.

“Akira!” Dao shouted.

He ran over from the center of the sprawling room with Okami by his side. The wolfdog had been here all morning, keeping the boy company.

“Hey, kid,” Akira said.

To his surprise, Dao hugged him around the waist.

“Thanks for letting me play with your dog,” Dao said. “I love him.”

Akira put a hand on Dao’s back. It was impossible not to think of his own son, and a tear welled in his eye. He fought it back.

“Are you here to play with us?” Dao asked.

“Not right now,” Akira said. “I have to make an announcement.”

Dao backed away, looking up at Akira who stood as tall and proud as he could.

All around him, people gathered around.

“I’m here to recruit fighters,” Akira called out. “In a day from now, we leave on a mission to strike back at the machines, a mission that I believe has a chance of ending the war.”

Hushed voices broke out.

“How can we defeat them?” someone cried.

“We have a weapon that can destroy the machines,” Akira said. “All you have to do is trust and have faith. Who will join me?”

For a moment, no one said anything. Then a voice spoke up.

“I will.” A man from Cat Ba stepped forward.

“Me too,” said another. This man was from Megacity Tokyo.

Slowly, more stepped forward, including Kobe. He grinned as he walked over to Akira. “You got room for me and Fish?”

“I thought you’d never ask, brother.”

They shook hands.

“I want to help,” came a soft voice.

Akira looked down at Dao.

“I want to ride on Kichiro again and fight the machines with you and Okami,” said the boy.

Kobe chuckled. “The kid’s like me when I was that age.”

“Please, Captain Hayashi,” Dao said.

Akira knelt and put a hand on Dao’s shoulder. “Someday you’ll be old enough to fight with me, but right now, you have a more important job.”

“What?” Dao asked.

“You must help guard this station and all the people living here. Can you do that?”

Dao looked around, as if he wasn’t sure.

“You are strong, my young friend,” Akira said. “Strong and capable.”

Dao nodded in agreement. “Yes, I will be a guard until you get back.”

“Good.” Akira smiled and then stood and looked out over the volunteers.

He had his army.

He had a plan to defeat the machines.

And soon, luck willing, Shadow Squad would be re-united with Tadhg and the special weapon he had brought from the moon.

***

Tapping woke Jackson. He sat up in a daze on the cold slab of concrete. His blurred vision focused on a yellow plastic bowl that slid into the window in his cell door. His stomach growled. This was the first time he’d seen food in days.

He scrambled over to it, his blanket falling off his naked body. He picked up the bowl and shoveled a handful of the cold, brown chunks into his mouth without thinking. He didn’t register the taste until the first glob was already down his throat.

“Fuckin-A,” he said before the gagging kicked in.

The chunky substance smelled like roadkill and tasted worse.

“It’s good for you,” said Tumea.

He ducked to look through the opening. She was standing in the hallway.

“The hell is this?” Jackson asked.

“Monkey.” Tumea grinned. “You look better. I’m glad the medicine is working because after you eat, it’s time to fight.”

Jackson examined the wounds from the worms. Tumea was right. They were already healing.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.

“A day, maybe a bit longer.” Her smile disappeared. “Eat and put this on.”

She shoved a pair of brown pants through the opening.

Jackson picked them up and returned to the concrete slab with the bowl. After putting on the pants, he pinched his nostrils together with one hand and picked up a chunk of meat in the other.

It wasn’t so bad when he couldn’t smell it. He forced the monkey down within a few minutes. Jackson went over to a water pail, taking several messy gulps, some of which dripped down his chin.

“Thought you might want to know that we picked up a transmission from the Nova Alliance,” Tumea said.

Jackson lowered the pail and walked over to the cell door, leaning down to see through the hatch again.

“From your comrade, Akira,” she said. “He is rallying troops for attacks on the Megacities across the world.”

Jackson put a hand on the metal. “We have to join him. This is our chance.”

She let out a grunt.

“What makes you so sure this isn’t a lie?”

“Because it’s Captain Akira Hayashi. You met him. You know he’s a man of his word.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing you or I say will make a difference. The decision is up to Heart Eater, and he’s not taking any sides.”

“So he’s a coward?”

“I’d watch your words.”

“You really married that guy? I figured you had higher standards.”

“He’s a War Lord,” Tumea said with a snort. “My love life should be the least of your worries right now. You should be more worried about him and that spear.”

She left Jackson to pace alone in his cell. He knew he shouldn’t be wasting what energy he had, but he couldn’t sit down. His heart and mind raced.

Had they finally found Apeiron?

Jackson cursed his decision to remain behind. It had led him here. To a Coalition prison controlled by a War Lord that ate human hearts. A warrior, that apparently, would rather sit on the sidelines than fight for humanity.

But then again, the guy and his forces had somehow taken out a Hunter Ship, and captured three Dreads. These Coalition warriors certainly didn’t lack fighting skills.

That didn’t exactly inspire confidence Jackson could best him in a duel.

The walls seemed to close in around him.

“You’re not down and out yet,” he said. “All you have to do is kill this sick bastard.”

But even if he could, what then?

He was somewhere in Vietnam, stranded in a jungle halfway across the world from Megacity Boston surrounded by machines.

Before he knew it, footsteps clanked outside his cell. The door unlocked, and a guard wearing a facemask opened it.

“You’re not Tumea,” Jackson said.

The man directed his energy sword down the hallway.

“Okay, okay,” Jackson said.

He walked out of his cell, and into the passage, passing the Dread prisoners. Their red eyes followed him as he passed.

The journey through the jail back to the mess hall only took a few minutes. When he got there, the tables had been moved to the side, and lit candles formed a circle in the middle.

The War Lord sat on his throne, playing with the Nova Alliance medals in his beard. Boar was there too, along with two more Coalition warriors with antlered helmets.

The escorts took Jackson to the center of the room, then backed away.

A voice came from the left and Jackson turned to another group where Tumea stood watching.

“There’s more news from the outside,” she said.

“What?” Jackson asked.

“The machines are attacking the moon. People have seen the Harvesters launching from several megacities.”

“That means we’re running out of time.” Jackson turned to Heart Eater. “You got to answer the call to fight.”

“Silence!” shouted the War Lord.

He stood and plucked his spear from a rack, twirling it through the air. Then he jumped down to the ground and started toward Jackson.

Someone tossed a sword in front of Jackson.

He picked it up, examining the rusted weapon. It was a sorry excuse for a sword, only about two feet long, and it felt poorly balanced, much lighter than his axe.

At least it was pointy enough that he thought he could still kill the War Lord with a well-placed stab.

“You feel better, Engine?” he roared.

Jackson shrugged.

“Then we fight!”

“Wait,” Jackson said. He held up a hand before the warrior could charge.

Two Coalition Commandos raised their spears to his back, prodding him forward.

“Fight,” one growled.

“I want to say something first,” Jackson said.

Jackson grunted as a spear poked his flesh. He resisted the urge to swing the sword on the bastard behind him.

The War Lord held up a hand, and the two soldiers withdrew their spears.

“Let him speak,” Heart Eater said.

“Thank you,” Jackson said politely. “I have an offer.”

“You are in no position to make an offer.”

“Hear me out.”

Jackson waited, and when the War Lord said nothing, he decided to throw it out there.

“If I win this fight, then your people will go with me to help the offensive against the machines,” Jackson said. “This is our only chance to stop them before it’s too late. If you win, then you can feast on my heart and all the monkey you want on that throne while you wait for the machines to come do what I couldn’t.”

Heart Eater didn’t say anything again, but this time, he burst out laughing. A second later, the entire chamber shook with the raucous howling of soldiers.

All but Tumea, who shook her head at Jackson like he was an idiot. Jackson felt his cheeks warm red with anger.

“If you’re not worried about losing, why does it matter?” Jackson yelled. “All you’re going to do is sit here and hide like a coward anyway.”

The War Lord growled and thrust his spear at Jackson. The Engine jumped back.

“Then what?” Jackson asked. He continued to backpedal away, looking at the soldiers surrounding them instead of the War Lord. “If this offensive fails, then it’s only a matter of time before they come and kill you all. Or worse…”

Heart Eater narrowed his bloodred eyes.

“The Nova Alliance is why we are here hiding like rats,” he snapped. “I do not trust them.”

“I know this man, Captain Akira Hayashi,” Tumea said, stepping out from the sidelines.

The War Lord regarded his ex-wife with a side-glare.

“He’s an honest warrior and a fine one on the battlefield,” she said. “Unlike so many, he actually deserves our respect.”

Heart Eater shook his head, nostrils flaring like she’d tried to stab him in the back. Then he let out a wail. He swung his spear at Jackson so quickly, the Engine barely had time to duck. The blade sliced over his spiked mohawk, taking off the top.

The crowd laughed as hair fell down his naked chest and back.

Jackson didn’t find it funny.

He let out a war cry of his own with the sword raised but was forced to jump to the side to avoid another thrust of the spear. Jackson swung the rusty blade at Heart Eater’s spear shaft, knocking it down. It gave him a chance to get close enough to the War Lord to throw a punch.

Jackson’s bare knuckles hit the man in the side of the helmet with a crack. The impact did more damage to his hand than his enemy.

Heart Eater let out a laugh that rose above the others as he backhanded Jackson in the face, splitting open his lip.

Jackson stumbled backward, blood bursting from the cut. He ducked under another slash of the blade aimed at his neck.

Heart Eater lunged, forcing Jackson to the edge of the circle. His foot knocked over a candle. Blood rushed down his chin from his lip. He wiped it away and looked at the War Lord. The barbaric man raised his spear to the chants of his people.

“Eat his heart!”

“Kill him!”

“Take off his head!”

Jackson slowly bent down and picked up the candle. When the War Lord lunged moved in to attack again, Jackson hurled the candle at his helmet. The wax exploded against the nose guard, painting his eyes and clinging to his beard.

A cry of surprise rang out as Jackson stormed forward. He slid under the warrior’s frantic swiping of the spear. As he slid past, Jackson slashed through Heart Eater’s left Achilles’ tendon, bringing him to a knee.

The War Lord cried out in pain.

As Jackson got up, the warrior threw an elbow into his face, breaking his nose. The pain was intense, but a rush of adrenaline and a desperate will to live masked it for now.

He brought the sword down on his enemy’s wrist where there was no armor. Heart Eater let out a shriek as the blade broke through flesh and bone with a crunch.

Coalition forces gasped and cursed throughout the chamber.

Jackson used the hilt of the blade to crack the injured man in the side of his helmet, knocking him face first to the ground. The spear slid across the ground, and Jackson scooped it up.

Heart Eater tried to get up on his good leg, managing to make it to a knee. He froze when Jackson brought the spear blade down to the narrow gap between his neck armor and helmet.

“Guess I’m in a position to make you an offer now, aren’t I?” Jackson asked.

Hissing, grunts, and growling erupted from the crowd. The War Lord looked over at them as he gripped his injured wrist, blood gushing between his fingers.

Jackson steadied the blade, ready to part Heart Eater’s head from his neck.

“It does not have to end like this,” Jackson said. “We are no longer enemies. You and I, Coalition and Nova Alliance, can only survive if we join forces to defeat the machines today.”

Jackson looked to Tumea.

“I have fought with many of your comrades over the past week,” he said. “I have grown to respect and trust them, something I never thought possible. Now we have the opportunity to fight as one against the machines.”

“We must try,” Tumea said.

“Yes, we should join them,” Boar said. “We must fight with this Akira.”

The War Lord slowly twisted his head up to look Jackson square in the eye.

“We can win the war,” Jackson said.

“I hate the Nova Alliance with all my being. They have taken everything from me.”

“Fine. Hate them. Hate me. But hate the machines even more than all of us combined.”

Heart Eater narrowed his eyes.

“Think we can agree on that?” Jackson asked.

He slowly pulled the blade away and reached down with a hand. The War Lord looked at his hand for a long moment, then nodded and took Jackson’s offer.

— 26 —

The cannons fired, the thumps sending tremors through the execution chamber. Ronin watched from the hatch as the projectiles hurtled out into space.

But for some reason, none of the enemy fighters were returning fire.

Two hours had passed since the alarms first went off. Ronin could see the larger enemy ships now. They had to be massive considering he could see them with his naked eye.

Maybe they were waiting to get close to fire or maybe they wanted to take Kepler Station without destroying it. That was a theory the LDC had all along.

The enemy needed someone to tell them where Mesopotamia was located. The machines might also try and take prisoners to turn them into Dreads, like they had on Earth, assuming those rumors were true.

Ronin stood inside the execution chamber with two options. Stay here and wait for the machines to land and takeover—or risk going outside.

The latter seemed like the only way he would survive. He had scavenged oxygen tanks from all the execution suits, collecting enough he estimated he had three hours on the surface. More than enough time to get away from Kepler.

But that begged the question: What did he do after he escaped?

How could he help his family?

There was no way he could make it to Mesopotamia on foot or by rover, even if he had an endless supply of oxygen.

He would need a MOTH or King Cobra, but Ronin had no flight training nor was he in a position to steal a spacecraft.

His gaze alternated from the approaching enemy armada to the warning on the airlock button.

Putting on his helmet, he took in a breath of filtered air then exhaled.

“Screw it,” he whispered.

Ronin punched the button. A warning light swirled in the chamber. Air rushed out around him, right before the hatch opened. He took the ramp outside and down into the regolith. Moving without the exoskeleton was harder and more sluggish than he had expected.

If he tried moving too fast, he toppled over. Either he walked slow or he had to hop.

The first of the former prisoners were right outside. Some were close to the hatch, where they had spent their final moments pounding in vain to get back inside.

The blue lights that had lit up the area were dark now. And with each step, the darkness closed in, pushed back only by his weak helmet lights.

The ground shook from cannon fire, pulling Ronin toward Kepler Station. The lights were mostly off, but he could still see some of the towers, including the command center.

Somewhere up there, Thacker was leading the defensive actions.

A pair of MOTHs shot overhead, joining the patrols of other spacecraft circling the facility. By Ronin’s estimates, there were more than a hundred spacecraft up there now, including King Cobras, MOTHs, and a few armored shuttles.

Ronin trekked down the path away from the facility. From his patrols on the surface, he recalled habitats on the outskirts of the station. He decided that was where he would go. Maybe he could link up with a squad or platoon that didn’t know him. In all the chaos, that might give him a chance to help stop the machines.

The odds were long, but he had to try.

Find allies.

Find a weapon.

Those were his objectives.

His mind shifted to the Warrior Codex, recalling all the harrowing battles his uncle and ancestors had engaged in.

This would be Ronin’s chance to add to the book.

He passed a dozen bodies before he finally got to the end of the graveyard. His oxygen had already dropped to ninety-five percent.

Ronin tried to conserve energy and air as he pushed onward. Every few minutes, he turned his eyes up to the encroaching enemy armada. The leaders of the formation looked like elongated boxes of metal or flying skyscrapers.

Behind them, he could now see sunlight reflecting off the metal hull of countless spacecrafts that had to be Praying Mantis fighters. The agile spacecraft fanned out, preparing to strike like an angry swarm of insects.

Ronin continued toward a series of rolling dunes. From his live-training exercise, he knew where he was now. He could even see tracks from their ride in the rovers. The service outpost wouldn’t be far from here.

The ground rumbled as he trekked up a dune. He stopped halfway up, the dust shaking around him. He looked back to the base, but the tremors weren’t in sync with any of the cannon blasts.

Ronin slowly craned his neck just as the top of the adjacent dune exploded in a geyser of rock. A wave of dust slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and partially burying his body.

He started to dig his way out of the pile, watching in horror as a six-limbed Ironclad clambered over a basin. The machine was even bigger than it had looked in the training video, at least two-stories tall, and as long as a submarine.

The bulbous cockpit lifted toward his location just as he got out of the grave, dust falling off his suit. He turned and hopped away, feeling the tremors from those bladed limbs pounding the lunar surface.

When he got down the other side of the mound, he tensed up in preparation of being crushed by one of those legs.

But the tremors grew distant.

The machine was heading for Kepler Station.

Ronin cautiously made his way back up the mound.

Two MOTHs blasted away from the base to intercept the fast-moving monster of alloy. Laser fire erupted from turrets on the bow, obliterating both spacecraft before they could even get close.

It turned the weapons on the LDC cannons firing into space.

Ronin stood, dust falling off his suit.

Out in space, the Praying Mantis fighters roared past the larger ships. They accelerated across the final stretch of space.

“Oh, no,” Ronin said. “Oh God, no.”

Plasma turrets across Kepler Station came to life now that the enemy contacts were in range. The barrels raked back and forth, spraying bolts at the fast-moving Praying Mantis fighters. Many of those rounds found targets, destroying the small spacecrafts in brilliant bursts.

But before they could decimate the enemy squadron, the defense cannons and the plasma turrets began to explode.

Ronin spotted the Ironclad that had charged past him. It was no longer alone. Two more of the hunters joined the first on a war path of destruction.

The LDC scrambled to launch more MOTHs while the King Cobras prepared to take on the Praying Mantis fighters, but they were desperately outnumbered and outgunned.

Structures across the base were destroyed in spreading balls of debris, just like in his dream. A stray plasma bolt slammed into the dune to his right, sending up a plume of dust and snapping him from the trance.

He practically slid down the other side of the mound.

Ronin didn’t turn again until he made it to the top of the next dune. In the distance, he saw the service outpost.

Or what was left of it.

The three domed habitats were all crushed. Long gouges in the regolith revealed the tracks of the Ironclad, leaving little doubt as to what was responsible for the destruction.

He hopped toward the base, short leaps, trying to conserve his energy.

Halfway across the basin separating him from the remaining outpost, a lone hangar had survived outside one of the habitats. The door was open, and he noticed movement inside the cargo space.

When Ronin spotted a trooper opening the hood on a rover, he waved.

He continued toward the outpost as three troopers loaded up one of two rovers in the hangar. By the time he got there, the soldiers had piled into the skeletal tactical rig. The driver pointed at Ronin, and a trooper jumped out the passenger side with a rifle aimed at him.

He put up his hands, and the trooper slowly lowered the barrel.

A short range comm channel crackled in his helmet.

“The fuck did you come from?” asked one of the troopers.

The two in the rover remained seated, but the guy in front walked over to Ronin.

“I got trapped inside a passage and had to escape,” he lied. “I knew there was an outpost here.” His heart leapt as he realized these men might consider him a traitor for abandoning his post. “I need a weapon so I can go back and fight.”

“Get back there? Fight? You crazy?” the trooper asked. “You go back there, and you’ll die along with everyone at Kepler Station.”

The trooper in the passenger seat stood. “Come with us, man.”

“And go where?” Ronin asked.

“Anywhere but here!”

Ronin looked back at Kepler. Praying Mantis and King Cobras battled over the base, blasting each other into shards of alloy.

He hated the LDC for what they had done to Tadhg and what they had planned do to Ronin, but he couldn’t just stand around and watch.

Nor could he go and hide.

“You coming or what?” asked one of the soldiers.

Ronin shook his helmet.

“You’re throwing away your life!” The trooper with the rifle climbed into the back of the rover. The driver gunned the engine and the rig skidded out of the cargo bay and out into the dust.

Ronin went inside the outpost, finding two dead troopers in a section of the habitat that had lost all atmosphere. He gathered both of the rifles and then dragged one of the bodies into an airlock and secured the hatch.

Inside, he stopped to swap out armor and an exoskeleton, changing into them as fast as he could. Twenty minutes later, he returned to the other rover and turned it on.

Pushing the pedal down, the vehicle thumped out into the dust. The rooster tail of dust in the distance revealed where the fleeing troopers were.

For a second, Ronin considered following, wondering what he could possibly do on his own.

But running from a fight wasn’t in his blood.

Ronin twisted the wheel and drove toward the station. Taking one hand off the wheel, he tapped his new wrist monitor to bring up the long-range comms.

A flurry of chatter came across the channels. Panicked voices shouting commands or asking for orders.

He listened to squad assignments, and halfway back to the base, he heard the Machine Slayers were being re-deployed.

Ronin slammed on the brakes suddenly at the sight of something that made his heart flip. He put the vehicle in park and watched as three of the tower-shaped ships descended over the station.

Legs the height of the command tower folded away from the base of the superstructure. Cannons and King Cobras blasted at the massive craft, tearing riven holes into the sides, but the Praying Mantis fighters swarmed, distracting the LDC defenses.

The three towers landed across the base, sending up gigantic plumes of dust and debris spaceward. Ronin slowly got back in the vehicle, his heart pounding.

This fight felt impossible. He looked beyond the raging firefight in space to Earth, thinking of his uncle, Tadhg, and everyone else still fighting down there. They had to have a plan. They had to know what they were doing.

Maybe there was still hope.

Maybe they would pull off a miracle.

Ronin pushed the pedal down again and headed for the western edge of the base where the Machine Slayers had been ordered to go. A few minutes later, he pulled up to a rock wall with a door to the interior passages. They would lead to the bunkers and his squad.

Jumping out, he went to the hatch, stopping when he saw the tracks in the dust.

These weren’t from troopers.

The hatch was already open, deep silver scars gleaming across the metal.

Canebrakes, Ronin realized. They were already inside.

Ronin cleared the first passage and then shut the hatch behind him. With one rifle shouldered and the other slotted on his back, he advanced into the dark tunnel.

Around the first corner, he saw the first trooper. The upper half of the body lay several feet from the lower half, the entrails frozen on the ground.

Ronin stepped over the man and passed three more bodies before he found a mangled Canebrake, its head a mess of broken and melted alloy.

He kept going, heart quickening with each step. Moving his finger to the trigger, he rounded the next corner, finding a closed hatch.

Ronin made his way over to it and reached out to tap it. He did what he was trained to do after the disaster that took Orson’s leg during training, rapping his fist several times in a specific rhythm.

The code worked, and the hatch slid open.

On the other side, a Juggernaut mech stood with two plasma cannons secured to their arms. Behind it, a dozen rifles angled at Ronin.

He slipped inside as the hatch sealed shut behind him. From there, he entered an airlock. After it depressurized, he opened the next hatch to a large chamber with artificial gravity and atmosphere.

He passed the guards holding sentry and crossed into the main bunker.

Hundreds of troopers rushed about inside. Mech suits carried crates and other supplies across the area to supply the warriors.

Ronin searched for his squad as he made his way across.

A voice suddenly called out, shouting orders.

He turned toward it, anger coursing through his veins.

War Commander Thacker moved across the open space with an entourage of guards. All of them wore vacuum-rated armor suits and exoskeletons. They stopped in the center of the room as troopers stopped what they were doing to listen.

“The day has come to stand and fight!” Thacker yelled. “All of us, including me, will rise up against our attackers!”

He raised his rifle toward the ceiling when a long quake shook the chamber. Everyone glanced up.

A whining sounded, followed by distant cracking.

“What’s happening?” someone asked.

“That’s a drill!” shouted a voice.

“Secure your helmets if you haven’t already!” Ortiz shouted.

Ronin followed her voice to his squad. She was with Zlaner in front of Micky, Bradley, and ten others. He wanted to storm over and punch Micky in the face, but Ronin suppressed his anger.

Now was not the time.

“The machines are digging!” a trooper yelled.

“And we will stop them!” Thacker shouted back. “Stand your ground!”

The War Commander turned and kept going with his guards to the other side of the room, stopping outside a hatch. The same one that Ronin had entered through.

“Always ready, always vigilant!” Thacker yelled.

The motto echoed throughout the space.

All around them, the troopers went back to work, stacking crates and activating shields to hide behind. Plasma turrets were set up outside two of the three hatches.

When Ronin turned again a few minutes later, the War Commander was gone.

***

Chloe stepped into the mud, looking up at the half-moon.

Tadhg knew what she was thinking. Her uncle and everyone else on the moon was on borrowed time. Assuming they were even still alive.

“Okay, let’s go,” said Lieutenant Farland.

The ragtag crew of twenty Pistons moved out of the garage and into the back of three APCs. Chloe kept looking at the sky.

Tadhg walked over and put a robotic hand on her shoulder. “There’s still time to save them.”

“We will,” she said. “We have to.”

They joined Cyrus in the back of one of the armored vehicles. The convoy roared away from the estate. Tadhg took a few minutes to look over the mini-map on his HUD. They were heading to a rendezvous at Moon Island and were already running late.

In two hours, Captain Akira Hayashi and a small army should be landing there. Shadow Squad had acquired aircraft and were en route with Apeiron.

Once they landed, Chloe would hand off the virus and the soldiers would work with the AI to find a way to upload it and transmit it around the world to destroy Otto.

Tadhg still wasn’t sure how they were going to do it, but he had a feeling Apeiron would.

“This is gonna work,” he said to Chloe.

“Soon we’ll be free from Otto,” she agreed.

The APCs sped down a dirt road. Tadhg’s heart pounded in anticipation as they crossed through the countryside.

Just as he was starting to feel hopeful, Farland cursed from the front seat.

“Shit,” he said.

“What?” Tadhg got up.

“Our drone picked up enemy contacts in the vicinity. Going to try and outrun them, so hold on.”

Tadhg made sure Cyrus and Chloe were strapped in.

The APCs turned down a narrower dirt road lined with hedges.

Leaning in his harness, he checked out the windshield. They were closely following the other two APCs.

The turret on the lead vehicle suddenly flashed, spewing plasma bolts into the forest. Return fire slammed into the driver’s side door and peppered the back of the truck. The vehicle swerved into a ditch.

More bolts hammered the second APC.

“Turn that way!” Farland yelled.

“Hold on!” shouted the driver.

Their APC swerved onto another dirt road, leaving the other two vehicles behind. Tadhg unbuckled and went to a viewport in the back. An explosion burst somewhere behind them.

“Damn, I think they got the other APC too,” he said.

Farland pounded the dashboard while Tadhg made his way up there.

“We got to shake the hostiles,” he said. “We can’t lead them to the rendezvous.”

“I know that, Sergeant,” Farland snapped.

Tadhg bent down to look through the windshield. It was easier for him to spot the energy blades with his INVS eyes, but apparently, the driver didn’t notice the Canebrake galloping in the adjacent field. It suddenly leapt into the air, and exploded through a hedge on the side of the road.

“Watch out!” Tadhg flinched as one of the energy blades streaked toward the APC.

Glass exploded, and fluid painted his faceplate. A segmented arm punched into the driver’s chest. The soldier let go of the wheel, both his hands clamping on the metallic limb.

That arm retracted through the window, blood bursting out of the driver. The man slumped sideways, dead. Tadhg pulled him aside and reached for the wheel as they swerved into the hedge. The APC jerked back onto the road, crossed into the other lane, and skidded into the ditch.

“Hold on!” he bellowed.

He tried to yank hard on the wheel, but it was too late.

The truck slammed into the base of a towering tree. The impact sent Tadhg through the reinforced glass windshield. He landed in a bush on the other side of the tree, his world spinning, pain flooding his body.

A rattle cut through his momentary shock.

Tadhg reached for his rifle, rummaging through the bushes. He froze as the Canebrake burst around the crashed APC to the back hatch.

Screams came from inside the vehicle.

He reached over his shoulder for his energy sword, wincing at the click his joint made as he pulled the weapon out of its sheath.

The shouts continued as the machine began to cut its way through the back hatch. Tadhg got up when a jolt of pain raced up his right leg. Blood leaked from where a shard of the heavy-duty glass had found a gap in his armor.

He gritted his teeth and plucked it out. The pain was intense, but he didn’t make a sound. Allowing himself three seconds to recover, he stood with his sword.

One.

Two.

Three…

Tadhg stalked over to the back of the vehicle where the Canebrake was preparing to rip off the hatch with two arms. The eyes in the back of its head found him just as he started charging.

The machine fired two arms at Tadhg like whips.

He ducked below one and sliced at the other. His red-hot blade connected with the arm, only succeeding at knocking it away instead of cutting into the thick alloy.

“Oh shit,” Tadhg grunted.

This had never happened before. A clean slice like that would cleave through the armor of a Canebrake. But this monstrosity shrugged off the direct attack as if Tadhg had slapped it with nothing more than his open palm.

This armor was far more substantial, far stronger than he had encountered before. Which meant if his blade wasn’t going to work, he had to think of another way to kill the brute.

Only problem was he didn’t have time to figure it out.

A segmented arm wrapped around his neck and ripped him off his feet, raising him into the air. He pounded the thick alloy with his fist as the arm started to tighten around his neck.

With two of its free arms, the Canebrake ripped the back hatch away from the APC. A Piston jumped out of the back, firing his pulse rifle at the Canebrake’s head. Rounds speared into the reinforced armor, leaving molten scars revealing some of the wires beneath the alloy.

The Piston took another step toward the Canebrake, still firing, when one of the mechanical monster’s blades lanced through his chest.

Without so much as a scream, the Piston fell limp on the machine’s arm. The Canebrake lifted the body in the air, then tossed it back onto the floor in front of Chloe and Cyrus.

Neither of them appeared to be moving, still strapped into their seats.

Tadhg couldn’t tell if they were dead or just unconscious.

The other Piston raised his hands in the air, arms quivering.

“Don’t kill me, please!” he yelled.

The machine actually seemed to listen and paused.

In the front cabin of the vehicle, Farland was trying to move from his seat. But he couldn’t seem to move one arm properly and his head lolled back and forth like he was in shock.

The Canebrake took a step closer to the vehicle, hauling Tadhg in the air. He gasped for air, feet kicking.

A blue light shot out of the front eyes of the Canebrake, raking over the occupants of the vehicle.

Then came a robotic, but frighteningly familiar voice that belonged to Otto Cross.

“Surrender and accept transcendence—or die. You have five seconds to decide.”

Tadhg struggled for a breath, trying to get any into his lungs. His vision began to blur, and the pressure on his head increased. It felt as though his skull might crack and explode at any second.

“Time is up,” Otto said.

“Your time is up,” came a reply.

Tadhg blinked through his blurred vision. Chloe raised a plasma pistol and fired at the Canebrake.

The bolts hammered into the already damaged skull. Each one made the droid jerk. It opened its maw to let out an electronic cry, but swallowed a flurry of bolts that silenced the machine forever.

The mechanical creature collapsed. Tadhg fell next to it as the arm loosened, letting him roll away. He was barely able to push himself up to his knees, reaching up to his neck as he gulped down air.

Chloe got out of her seat and leaned over Cyrus, checking on him. Cyrus was blinking awake, nodding lethargically. Apparently satisfied, Chloe staggered outside holding the gun in a shaky hand.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Tadhg managed to nod.

“Get back inside,” he said.

She hurried into the troop hold as Cyrus finally unstrapped himself from the seat. The other Piston went to the front to help Farland.

Tadhg pushed himself up and gathered his weapons when he heard the whine of an electric motor in the distance. To his relief, it was one of the other APCs.

Despite the black smoke trailing off some glowing spots in its armor, it powered down the road toward Tadhg and the others.

Tadhg turned toward their APC.

“Is this one still drivable?” he asked Farland.

The lieutenant shook his injured head. Even in the pale moonlight, Tadhg could see the pallor in his complexion. The man was clearly in pain.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to squeeze into this one, then,” Tadhg said.

The APC screeched to a stop right behind the dead Canebrake. The back hatch opened, and a Piston hopped out.

“We’ve got more hostiles in the area,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

Tadhg rushed into the back of the truck with Chloe, Cyrus, and the others.

The APC pulled onto the road before they had even closed the back hatch. Tadhg bent down next to Farland, checking him for injuries.

“I’m okay,” Farland insisted.

Tadhg took a seat next to him, and examined his own wound, deciding his leg needed a bandage. Chloe handed over a medkit.

“Thanks,” Tadhg said. “And thanks for what you did back there.”

“You saved us all,” Farland said.

“I’m supposed to be the one protecting you,” Tadhg said.

“You will have your chance again, soon,” Cyrus said.

The truck sped up a hill that provided a sprawling view beyond the countryside. In the distance, the horizon glowed from raging fires. Most of the city was a wasteland.

“Don’t see any enemy aircraft,” Tadhg said. “We got any eyes out there?”

“Negative, our drones were both shot down,” Farland said. “It’s just us now.”

The APC dipped back down into a valley, heading east toward the ocean.

Even as they got closer, nothing moved in the shadows of the road or in the remnants of burned buildings.

“We’re close,” Farland said. “Hope your friends are here.”

“They’ll be here,” Tadhg said.

According to Tadhg’s HUD, they were coming up on a bridge over the Neponset River. The road was filled with fissures and craters. Dozens of abandoned vehicles had been charred to a husk along the roads, but most of the way was still clear.

“Looks good,” Tadhg said.

They sped across the bridge, dodging between the vehicles. On the other side, the driver turned off another road toward Wollaston Beach. From there, they passed the Squantum Marshes, and headed for the land bridge connecting to Moon Island.

“This is it,” said Farland.

The APC stopped behind a row of sheds and cracked brick buildings. Tadhg went out the back. Two Pistons followed and held security while he started his search for Shadow Squad.

He made his way across an open field toward the end of the island. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t anyone here.

Tadhg checked his HUD.

Shadow Squad was an hour late.

Either that, or they never made it across the ocean.

Tadhg shook the thought and kept searching the dark landscape. According to an old map, this was once a training ground for local police and firefighters. Not much remained on this side of the island except for foundations protruding out of the waist-high weeds.

Tadhg went all the way to the shoreline, the overgrown weeds swaying in the wind.

Rustling caught his ear.

He slowly raised his rifle, careful not to make any noise.

All at once, figures burst up from the weeds on his flanks, aiming their own rifles at him. He lowered his and let out a breath when he realized he was standing in the middle of a small army wearing cool-suits, and other stealth technology.

His eyes flitted across the figures until they found the kabuto he had waited so long to see.

Tadhg walked over to Akira, heart thumping with pride.

There were no words exchanged when they met helmet to helmet. Instead, Akira pulled Tadhg into a hug.

Frost and Ghost moved up from behind Akira.

“Damn good to see you, brother,” Ghost said. “Together, we are one again.”

— 27 —

The ten-story building was one of the largest structures still standing outside Megacity Boston’s walls. Akira hunched on the rooftop with Okami by his side.

Tadhg, Frost, and Ghost huddled behind them, waiting for orders.

If all went to plan, Akira would write about this night in his new Warrior Codex.

Across the globe, other rebels like them were moving in on the craters to attack the machines in a coordinated effort. The encrypted message Akira sent before leaving Neptune had reached their allies, but not as many answered the call as he had hoped.

Some of the rebels out there had perished over the past week, discovered and destroyed by the machines. Akira just hoped Otto didn’t know what was coming tonight.

Judging by the destroyed skyline, it didn’t seem the AI did know. Not a single enemy aircraft cruised over the buildings or crater. It seemed the machines launching to the moon had indeed opened a window to sneak into enemy territory with Apeiron to destroy Otto, but they still had yet to finalize their plan.

And they were running out of time to do it.

Akira looked at the bright moon. Somewhere up there, the machines were attacking Kepler Station, and according to Tadhg, they were searching for Mesopotamia, where the bulk of humanity’s remaining population was hiding.

That, of course, assumed the machines hadn’t already found the refuge and slaughtered everyone inside.

“Let’s go,” Akira said.

He guided the squad down a cracked stairwell to the basement of the building where most of their forces were stationed.

Cyrus and his partner Chloe stood with Juno, Kobe, Fish, and Blinky. A pair of the deep-sea diving droids they hadn’t deployed guarded the entrances and exit. Kichiro was in an adjacent room with crates of Grind Shields and extra ammunition.

“Juno, how’s it coming?” Akira asked.

“I’m ready to bring Apeiron online,” she said.

Okami trotted over with him to the table where Juno had set up her workstation. A holo-port terminal was connected by archaic wires to nano-drives and comm-pads. There was also a transmitter that would disable enemy machines. The same one she had used at Cat Ba Island.

The group gathered around the table.

“You’re sure about this?” Farland asked.

“Yes,” Chloe said.

Akira looked at her. She seemed like a young girl when he’d met her, but now she looked like a confident woman augmented and brought back to life thanks to Apeiron. It was a far cry from when he had first seen her before E-Day in Megacity Paris.

The whole situation might seem like a strange coincidence. But to Akira, it just reinforced his belief that this was fate. Fate that Apeiron had helped orchestrate.

“Bring Apeiron online,” Akira said.

Juno nodded.

She tapped the comm-pad hooked up to a holo-port.

A female hologram appeared before them. The apparition surveyed them all with a judicious gaze.

“Apeiron,” said Chloe, stepping forward.

“Chloe Cotter,” Apeiron whispered. “My child, is it really you?”

Cyrus followed Chloe toward the holo-port.

“I knew it wasn’t you behind E-Day,” Chloe said. “I knew you would never hurt us.”

Apeiron winced as if she was remembering painful events.

“I brought you this to help defeat Otto,” Chloe said. “It’s an infiltration virus coded by Doctor Jason Crichton to destroy Otto.”

She reached into her vest and pulled out the drive she had carried all the way from Atlas Station.

Juno took it and inserted it into a terminal.

The hologram flashed repeatedly as Apeiron downloaded the virus code.

“Genius,” she whispered.

“How exactly does this virus work?” Juno asked.

Apeiron faced the researcher from Neptune Station.

“This is an infiltration virus that starts by worming into a system,” explained the AI. “It presents itself as an innocuous upgrade. Otto is upgrading his systems all the time, especially as he develops new monstrosities and technologies to wipe out humanity. Some of these upgrades are automated, produced by subroutines without Otto’s explicit direction. Our virus will pretend to operate under one of these subroutines. Once it’s uploaded, the upgrade is sent out to all machines on the network, thus shutting them down.”

“Won’t Otto be able to detect this?”

“That is the genius part. By the time the upgrade is uploaded, all he will see on his end is me. And in his eyes, all I will be doing is searching his systems. He’ll think I’m merely there for an intel grab, instead of installing this virus. Of course, he already believes he is the superior AI, especially after E-Day. Doctor Crichton realized Otto’s major flaw is his ego, and banked on the fact that his AI will share that flaw.”

“So?” Tadhg asked.

“So, Sergeant Walsh, the idea is Otto will be proud to show off what he has created. He’ll want me to see that he’s utterly defeated both humanity and me. To him, it’ll seem like I’m just harmlessly looking through the window of the fortress he’s built. When, in reality, I will be piping in an odorless, colorless, poisonous gas—Doctor Crichton’s virus—that will kill everything inside his digital fortress. He will have no idea.”

“Genius, indeed,” Juno said. “Doctor Crichton did well.”

“Yes,” Apeiron replied. “Where is he? I’d like to ask him some questions myself.”

Akira hesitated, unsure if they should tell the AI the truth.

“He’s gone,” Chloe said before he could reply.

“Gone. Where?”

“He’s… Jason died.” Chloe sighed. “I’m very sorry, Apeiron, but he gave his life so I could bring the virus to you.”

For a moment, Apeiron said nothing. Her features tightened into lines over her brow.

“I’m sorry,” she said calmly. “I was not expecting this…”

A tear dripped down her face.

The AI closed her eyes, the hologram flickering.

Akira looked to Juno. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

Before Juno could respond, Apeiron opened her eyes.

“Again, my apologies. I needed to collect myself.” She wiped away new tears and stiffened in front of them. “Will someone please upload the most recent recon intel of the surrounding area?”

Farland brought over another comm-pad and handed it to Juno. She plugged it into a terminal.

The AI vanished, replaced by a holographic map of Megacity Boston.

“According to this intel, the enemy has built a hive under the former campus of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology,” Apeiron said. “That is not surprising, considering Doctor Otto Cross once lectured there. The servers running the hive and connected to the enemy network will most likely be under the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Building. Assuming they have taken advantage of existing facilities, I believe there will also be a comms center I can connect to that will distribute the upgrade worldwide and into space.”

“How do you know for sure?” Farland asked.

“Because I designed such a system before and it will operate in a similar manner. All we need to do is sneak inside, tap into the servers, break through any security protocols, and then upload the virus.”

“And if Otto does sniff this out and shuts down the power?” Akira asked.

“We will have backup power,” Juno said.

“By my calculations, the backup power devices you are bringing will be just enough to keep the comm-pads and servers powered on,” Apeiron said. “And if I have sufficiently advanced the virus through Otto’s local systems, I will be able to regain control of his power grid. By the time he realizes what I’ve done, he won’t be able to shut off the power because I will be in charge.”

Farland scratched his chin. “So we just sneak past hundreds of Canebrakes, plus whatever science experiment freaks they have in there, and plug in our former savior, huh?”

“Yes,” Apeiron replied confidently.

Farland laughed nervously, but then grew serious. “She ain’t kiddin’?”

“Nope,” Akira said.

“No big kiddin’, no big kiddin’,” Blinky said.

“Do you ever shut your ugly turd shooter?” Fish asked.

Juno motioned for Blinky to be quiet, but Kobe just chuckled.

“That hive is protected by hundreds of Canebrakes, some of them upgraded models,” Farland said. “And we’ve seen some seriously demented creatures come out of there by our aerial drones. Twisted beasts that are no longer human.”

“Then we will slay them all,” Tadhg said.

“Big slay, big slay,” Blinky said.

“Blinky…” Juno said.

“Big sorry—”

Ghost slapped Blinky on the back of his head, silencing the machine.

“So you have a plan to deal with those Canebrakes?” Farland asked.

“Yes, a plan has already been put in motion,” Akira said. “In three hours, allied forces around the world are going to attack four other megacities on two continents. Our submarine, the Pelican, is launching a strike with the remaining cruise missiles on the heart of the machine hive at Megacity Osaka.”

“How does that help?”

“A distraction,” Frost said. “Hopefully, any major forces still in Megacity Boston will head to the other sites with reinforcements.”

Farland raised a brow. “And if they don’t?”

“Then I will lead a group to draw the machines out,” Akira said.

“I think you’ve used up your nine lives already,” Ghost said. “That sounds like suicide.”

“That’s why you’re going to help me.”

“I should note, I will need someone with an L-S88 chip,” Apeiron said.

“We had our chips removed,” Akira said. “Why do you need one?”

“So I can connect to one,” Apeiron said. “I’ll need a human guide with me to help connect to the network, bring me online, and upload the virus.”

“I think I can figure it out, without a chip,” Juno said.

“Perhaps, but we don’t know what modifications Otto may have made to his servers. If we run into any challenges, I can speak directly to someone with a chip.”

“I have one still,” Chloe said.

Apeiron seemed to soften.

“She isn’t going into that hive,” Cyrus said. “No way in hell.”

“I’m afraid it’s the only sure way for success,” Apeiron said.

Cyrus turned to Chloe. “You can’t do this…”

“I have to do this,” she replied.

“If you’re going, I’m going. I’m keeping my promise,” Tadhg said. “I won’t let anything happen to you, kid.”

“We will all protect her,” Akira said. “She’ll have a Grind Shield too, along with a cool-suit to mask her heat signature.”

He crossed over to the map of the MIT campus.

“Once the attack starts, we wait until the machines clear the area,” Akira said. “If they don’t, I will lead a counterattack to draw out the enemy here.”

He pointed to a library building called the Great Dome. The horseshoe-shaped structure framed a large courtyard. That space would provide a perfect ambush site if they could get the machines inside.

“I will lead them down Memorial Drive and across the Harvard Bridge to the other side of Charles River,” Akira said. “There, another team will be waiting to provide covering fire. This will provide an opportunity for Tadhg and his team to use a submersible to cross the river undetected. When given the all clear, Tadhg will lead his group into the campus and locate the servers.”

Shadow Squad seemed more determined than ever, but Akira could see the uncertainty in so many of the other soldiers. Including Farland and what few men he had left under his command. It wasn’t the first time Akira had seen the hopeless gazes. People that were on the verge of giving up.

After all they had endured, he didn’t blame them.

His job as a leader was to make them believe what he did—that today they would defeat the machines.

“Now is the time to summon all of your strength. What we accomplish tonight will echo in history when, not if, we succeed. We may be only a small fighting force, but what we lack in numbers, we make up for here.” He pounded his chest.

“In my heart, I know our plan will work. In my heart, I know it is destiny that has brought us all together. Destiny will allow us to recreate a world for future generations. A world where we remember those we have lost, where we honor them, and where we never allow this type of destruction to plague humanity again.”

The uncertain gazes brightened.

“If we fight together, as one, we will achieve victory,” Akira continued. “I believe this to my very core.”

He pounded the plate over his heart again.

Heads nodded, and eager voices broke out.

He had mustered as much hope as he could in these people. They had their orders.

Now it was time to lead by action.

Akira broke them into assigned groups with their specific tasks. Afterward, he took Kichiro outside. Ghost, Frost, Juno, Blinky, Kobe, Fish, and a few volunteers would join him on a route into the city.

“Hey,” Juno said, coming outside after them. “I didn’t bring this to stay behind. Hopefully, it will work on these new upgraded Canebrakes.”

She held up her transmitter as she and Blinky walked over.

“You might want these too,” she said. “Go ahead, Blinky.”

“Big careful, big careful,” Blinky warned while handing a satchel to Ghost.

He reached in and pulled out a pair of grenades.

“Homemade EMP bombs,” Juno said. “Could be a bit touchy.”

“Thanks,” Ghost said.

“So, where do you want me?” she asked.

Akira knew Juno well enough now not to argue about her coming with them.

“We’ll find a place for you once we get out there,” he said.

“Big happy, big happy,” Blinky said.

Across from them, Tadhg, Farland, Chloe, Cyrus, and twenty Pistons that had come from Neptune Station were getting ready to head to the submersibles a mile away. The rest of the troops gathered around Akira and his squad, including Kobe and his volunteers. There were also several people from Cat Ba Island.

The pre-combat sounds of weapon’s being charged formed a ritualistic song as the teams prepared for battle.

Tadhg walked over to Akira.

“Parting ways again,” he grunted. “So much for a reunion, huh?”

“We won’t be far,” Akira said. He looked over at Chloe. Her helmet was pressed up against Cyrus’s helmet.

“Make sure—”

“Don’t worry,” Tadhg interrupted. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Akira nodded, and they shook hands. “See you soon, brother.”

He climbed up into Kichiro’s saddle as Tadhg marched off with the other team. When they were gone, Akira started in the opposite direction with his group. The hike to the megacity walls would take an hour and a half. They should arrive to their destination just about when the attacks kicked off across the world.

For the first thirty minutes, they advanced through the ruins without detecting any enemy contacts. But as the group closed in on the walls, the faraway rattles of Canebrakes drifted across the city.

They kept going until they came to the wall of concrete that surrounded the heart of Boston. The road leading through the massive open gate was choked full of vehicles that had tried to flee on E-Day.

Akira steered Kichiro around the blackened chassis of cars and trucks.

Past the gate, they had a perfect view of their target. Three city blocks and the Charles River was all that separated them from MIT.

The group got halfway there when the wail of a Canebrake came again.

This time, it wasn’t so distant.

Akira dismounted Kichiro and motioned for Ghost and Okami to join him inside an adjacent building. They ran up a series of cracked stairs until they reached the top floor. Akira kicked open a condo door and went over to a shattered window.

From here, they could see the domed library. A crater had swallowed the buildings behind it.

Using his rifle scope, Akira zoomed in on the crater, figuring that might be the entrance to the hive. Seeing no contacts, he moved the scope to check out the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Building.

That was Apeiron’s target.

Akira looked to the river next. The only way across seemed to be the Harvard Bridge. While the rest of the bridges had been destroyed, the machines had likely used this one over the past month to come and go to the hive.

He turned to Ghost.

“If the attacks fail to draw out the enemy, we will launch our offensive over that bridge,” Akira said. “Get the others. They’ll provide cover fire from here.”

Ghost took off back downstairs.

In fifteen minutes, the Pelican and their allies would launch the first stage of the attack. Tadhg and his team should be in the submersibles, waiting in the river now.

Footsteps came from the hallway a couple minutes later. Juno was the first into the condo with Ghost and Frost. Blinky followed just behind them. Next came Kobe, Fish, and Hina.

“How’s this for a place to setup?” Akira asked.

Juno looked around, and then set her tactical case on a dusty granite table. “It will work.”

While she put her transmitter together, Blinky and Fish took up positions along the broken windows. Hina, Kobe, and the other volunteers joined them.

Juno finished screwing on the end of the transmitter. “I’m ready to—”

A deep roar cut her off.

Akira rushed over to a window as a Hunter Ship rose from the hive crater.

“Everyone down,” Akira said.

He hunched behind a wall. The building shook as the menacing craft blasted into the night sky.

Akira let out a sigh of relief as it vanished.

“I didn’t think the attacks were supposed to happen yet,” Ghost said. “Maybe one of our allies got discovered.”

Akira hoped that wasn’t the case, although it was likely.

The soldiers inside the condo hunkered down as the mission clock ticked away. Akira swallowed when it hit zero and closed his eyes.

May I fight without fear, using my heart to guide my blade. Today and forever.

He opened his eyes, and watched the campus for movement.

A minute passed since the countdown ended and nothing moved.

Frost motioned and Akira went over to her position. She handed him her sniper rifle and pointed to the crater behind the library.

Dozens of Canebrakes flooded across the campus. When they got to the road next to the Charles River, they halted.

“What are they doing?” Frost asked.

“Standing guard.” Akira wanted to curse. “They’re preparing for an attack. Time for plan B.”

He started out of the room, exchanging a nod with Kobe and Hina.

On their way out, Juno ran over. She stood on her tip-toes and gave him an unexpected hug. He patted her on the back.

“We’ll be okay,” Akira said.

Juno simply nodded. She looked like she wanted to say more, but before she could, she returned to Blinky.

“Cute,” Frost said.

“Focus on the mission,” Akira said. “I want you up here with your sniper rifle, especially with that leg of yours.”

“Okay, I got you, Captain.”

“Ghost, you’re with me,” Akira said. “We cross the bridge and draw the enemy back over it.”

“Right into my line of fire,” Frost said, tapping the side of her rifle.

“Exactly.”

“Okami, I’m sorry, but you have to stay here,” Akira said.

He patted the droid as the wolfdog let out a long whine. Okami followed him to the door but halted.

Akira hated leaving his companion, but it was far too dangerous.

Outside, he climbed up into Kichiro’s saddle. A low whistle launched the horse toward the bridge, hooves clattering over broken concrete.

Ghost walked by his side, exchanging one final nod with Akira. They shared a look that told Akira he could trust Ghost with his life, and that Ghost could trust Akira with his.

All the while, the Canebrakes’ rattling rose into a vicious symphony. As Akira advanced over the bridge, he could see them clambering across the opposite street like gigantic insects. Some took to the rooftops, others patrolled in the dead grass.

At the end of the bridge, Akira drew his swords. The blades glowed to life.

Hundreds of blue eyes twinkled across the campus, but none of the machines charged.

“How about a song, Ghost?” Akira asked. “For old times’ sake?”

“I think I know of one…” Ghost said.

He walked out in front of Kichiro and Akira, then let it rip.

“We will fight for the Alliance ’til our last breath, killing all enemies wherever they rise,” he sang. “The sky, the land, the oceans… together we fight, together we fall, together we are one in life and death!”

Akira kicked Kichiro, launching the horse onto the street.

Still, the machines didn’t take the bait. They prowled along the buildings and streets, their eyes pointed like lasers at Ghost and Akira. Not a single one moved to attack.

Akira switched to his rifle, raking the sights over the fanned heads staring at him.

“For you, Takeshi!” Akira shouted.

He pulled the trigger, thinking of his son.

“For you, Kai!”

Akira fired off another burst for his brother.

“For you, War Commander Contos!”

Then came the avalanche he’d been waiting for.

A group of ten Canebrakes bolted toward them. Plasma cannons spewed rounds through the air.

Akira hardly had time to lower his rifle before a flurry of bolts slammed into their Grind Shields. The impacts nearly knocked him out of the saddle, and those first few rounds alone sent his shield plummeting to sixty percent.

Kichiro galloped down the road, kicking up dust and ash.

Three Canebrakes darted ahead to cut them off, and more came pouring out of the campus buildings. Akira pulled back on Kichiro’s reins, and the horse slowed, nearly skidding to a stop. Then with another tug on the reins, he turned Kichiro back toward the bridge.

Bolts chased after them in a wall of relentless plasma fire. Segmented arms shot across the road, falling short, but not by much.

Akira couldn’t count the machines now. There were too many.

The ground rumbled from the stampeding army. Ghost blasted into the air with his jetpack, lobbing EMP grenades into the horde.

Plasma fire burst against his shield, knocking him into a tailspin.

“Get out of there, Ghost!” Akira shouted.

A missile suddenly streaked away from the campus, chasing him. Akira spotted a modified Canebrake with missile launchers instead of back-mounted arms.

Ghost angled down and dove toward the water. An explosion burst over the river, but Akira couldn’t see if the blast hit his brother-in-arms.

“Ghost!” he shouted.

Pulse racing wildly, he held onto the reins as the horse pounded the ground, almost to the bridge now. He risked a glance behind him. Nearly every glowing blue eye he saw was after him.

The machines had taken the bait. Now he just had to survive.

More bolts streaked past them, some glancing his armor, as they raced out onto the bridge.

“Keep going, Kichiro,” Akira said. “We’re almost there!”

Kichiro galloped faster, and Akira looked over his shoulder plate to see the Canebrakes losing ground. The leaders of the pack had only just burst onto the bridge, still firing.

But the bolts weren’t the only thing the machines had in their arsenal.

Two more missiles roared away from a Canebrake, curving into the air over the bridge.

Akira looked up just as those missiles came down on him.

The first one slammed into the bridge in front of them, bursting in a wild ball of fire. The second hit Kichiro nearly straight on, exploding in a wave of fury that launched Akira from the saddle.

He lost sight of Kichiro and hit the concrete with a painful thud.

Skidding across the asphalt, his head thumped inside his helmet. Blood gushed from his nostrils, and the metallic taste danced over his tongue. He could feel it at the back of his throat too.

The blast must’ve injured something internally, though he didn’t know what. All he knew was that pain throbbed from deep in his chest and gut as blood bubbled up his throat.

Gunfire and plasma bolts ripped overhead as his comrades tried to provide covering fire. He could hear their distant voices even as his mind struggled to comprehend what he was feeling.

“Ghost,” he mumbled. “Kichiro…”

A red glow winked on in the sky as Akira lay there. He wasn’t sure if it was real, or just his eyes playing tricks on him.

His gaze went to his HUD, seeing his shield was depleted. His power armor smoldered from damage that triggered alarms on the screen.

Critical damage.

Humming came from the clouds, forcing him to look up at that red light again. It raked back and forth from the sky.

It was real after all.

The glow illuminated a teardrop-shaped ship that lowered toward the bridge.

No, no, not like this…

Akira tried to move, finally managing to roll to his stomach. Agony roiled through his guts. He reached down, feeling something wet. Blood clung to his fingers when he probed at damage in an armor plate covering his stomach.

With one hand pressed against his wound, he searched for Kichiro. Smoke drifted away from piles of rubble and craters. To his left, he spotted a particularly large pile of rubble.

It took him a moment to realize that rubble wasn’t parts of the bridge.

It was Kichiro.

The horse lay still, front legs and one back leg gone.

“No,” Akira grunted.

He started to crawl toward Kichiro. The Canebrakes were still moving toward him, flooding across the bridge.

Akira tried to draw a sword, but the movement sent pain lancing up from his gut again. He dropped his hand back down.

The red beams from the Hunter Ship blazed out of the sky, hitting the bridge in front of him.

It was over now.

Akira’s life was at its end.

He would never write another passage in his Warrior Codex, but what happened tonight would live on in the hearts of his comrades. He prayed they would lead humanity to victory, and hoped the distraction Akira and his team had provided would be enough for Tadhg to get Chloe and Apeiron inside the hive. To allow them the minutes needed to destroy Otto forever.

Akira called out for Ghost again as he continued to crawl toward Kichiro. The mob of Canebrakes hurdled across the bridge that shook from their stampede, drowning out any potential response from Ghost.

Red sabers of light flickered in front of Akira, threatening to atomize his body before he reached his horse.

He reached up again, squinting into the bright glow as those crimson beams suddenly tore into the advancing army of machines. In seconds, the beams brightened, intensifying. The Canebrakes, frozen in place, melted in hunks of oozing piles like flowing lava.

Turning on his side, Akira squinted at the blinding lights. The enemy spacecraft lowered over the bridge. The vents on the sides opened, and figures fast-roped down to the ground.

Akira heard them before he saw them.

The voices of Coalition fighters.

All wearing antlered helmets and bulky armor.

They ran across the bridge, led by a figure seven feet tall.

“For Akira the Brave!” the warrior shouted.

Akira recognized that voice.

It was Engine Lieutenant Andy Jackson.

— 28 —

“I should kill you,” Akira said.

Jackson bent down to help him as Akira groaned. He had one hand on his side. Blood gushed between his fingers. Despite his injuries, he grabbed Jackson.

“The War Commander died because you broke orders at Cat Ba,” Akira growled.

“What?” Jackson mumbled.

“Contos died trying to contact the LDC, which is what you were supposed to do.”

Jackson swallowed hard from the shock.

“Jackson, come on!” Tumea shouted.

Waving at him, she was on the bridge among the growing army of Coalition forces. The last of the commandos fast-roped down to the bridge from the stolen Hunter Ship.

“I should never have broken orders, Captain, and if we survive this, you can kill me, but right now, you need me,” Jackson said.

He hauled Akira up and over a shoulder.

“I’m right behind you, Tumea!” Jackson shouted.

“Kichiro,” Akira moaned.

The pain in his voice made Jackson pause. He looked back at the destroyed droid, but there was nothing they could do for Kichiro right now. Priority number one was getting Akira to safety.

“Akira the Brave!” sung a voice.

Ghost swooped down in his jet pack, water sluicing off his armor. He landed a few feet in front of Jackson.

“I don’t believe it,” Ghost said. “You son of a—”

“You got to get him out of here,” Jackson said.

The distinct rattles of the Canebrakes sounded between the booming gunfire. Ghost looked in that direction.

“Tell those Coalition forces to lead those machines down the road to the west,” he said. “We’ve got other soldiers trying to sneak into a building across campus to upload a virus.”

“We’ll keep the machines busy,” Jackson said. “Don’t worry, brother.”

He handed Akira off to Ghost.

“No,” Akira grumbled. “Kichiro!”

Ghost blasted into the clouds of smoke while Jackson ran through them. Plumes drifted away from smoldering craters on the bridge.

The Coalition fighters, thirty strong, were already at the other end. Their War Lord, Heart Eater, was surrounded by a phalanx of the heaviest armored commandos, including Colonel Boar and Lieutenant Tumea.

They charged over the hunks of melted alloy.

The stolen Hunter Ship flew over the campus, destroying more of the machines. Jackson had worried the Dread pilots wouldn’t come through during the battle, and had agreed with Heart Eater to keep three Coalition soldiers in the cockpit. They would be standing right behind the pilots with energy swords ready to hack off their heads if they tried anything stupid.

Jackson finally caught up with the commandos on the ground. They fanned out across the connecting road, screaming past downed Canebrakes. He leapt over an undamaged frame, probably the work of an EMP.

He ran harder, searching for Tumea.

The soldiers on point reached the campus, greeted by the rattle of a Canebrake. More electronic wails answered.

Jackson ran through a corridor between two crumbled buildings in front of a courtyard with broken benches and wilted trees. A horseshoe-shaped building surrounded the space, with a domed building overlooking it all.

The doors at the bottom burst open, disgorging a pack of three Canebrakes. The monsters ran on all fours across the grass. Coalition commandos had already climbed onto the roof of the structure on the right side of the park. Gunfire met the beasts, pounding into their armor while the Hunter Ship lowered into position.

“Jackson!” shouted Tumea.

She was on the rooftop of the building on the left side of the courtyard. He jumped through a broken window and worked his way up a wide stairwell to the roof. Tumea was firing over the side with two other soldiers, all of them laughing.

“Like shooting fish in a barrel!” she yelled.

Jackson ducked down as bolts sprayed overhead. One of the Coalition soldiers a few feet away toppled over the other side after taking a bolt to the center of his helmet.

“Oh shit!” Tumea said. She hunched down next to Jackson, no longer laughing, as more bolts streaked over their heads.

The rooftop suddenly began to shake.

Jackson cautiously got up to see the Hunter Ship blasting more of the machines with energy beams. Return fire pounded the bottom of the hull, but it seemed to have little to no effect.

Most of the Canebrakes darted for cover. Jackson sighted up the fleeing enemy with his rifle, aiming for their fanned heads. He nailed several that should have been kill shots, but the alloy seemed far thicker and stronger.

A horn blared above the din of battle. Jackson recognized the Coalition’s call for help. It was coming from the War Lord’s phalanx. The other Coalition fighter next to Tumea hurried back inside, leaving just the two of them on the roof.

In the center of the courtyard, Colonel Boar, Heart Eater, and their commandos were engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a pack of six Canebrakes. One machine wrapped its arm around a soldier, lifting the man off the ground.

Boar used his energy-spiked paddle to smack the fanned head, freeing the soldier. The commando slammed into the ground in a puff of dust. Jackson turned his rifle to provide covering fire when the roof shook again.

The center of the roof caved in, swallowing a chunk behind Jackson. He grabbed the railing for support as the structure shook violently.

“What is that?” Tumea shouted.

The Hunter Ship continued to fire on other Canebrakes, its beams brightening and heating until the war droids melted into hissing mounds of metal.

Several of the machines leapt off rooftops, extending their arms with blades that punched into the hull of the ship. They skittered up the sides toward the bulbous cockpit.

“Keep them off!” Jackson shouted.

He aimed his rifle at a Canebrake trying to squeeze through an open vent in the hull. With a squeeze of the trigger, he let off a burst that hit the machine in the back, knocking it loose.

It dangled by an arm.

Tumea fired off a salvo into the torso and back. The Canebrake finally plummeted to the ground, landing in a heap of tangled limbs.

The building shook again, knocking Tumea off her feet. Jackson leaned against the ledge of the rooftop as a geyser of stone exploded from the domed building. A gigantic bladed limb burst out of the structure like the leg of some monster crab. The heated tip ripped into the aft section of the Hunter Ship, slicing the vessel in half.

The Canebrakes still clinging to the hull jumped off as the ship broke in half. The two pieces of the ship crashed to the ground in front of the destroyed dome in a gigantic cloud of debris.

Dust and smoke rolled toward Jackson. He raised a hand to shield his face as it slammed through the Canebrakes and Coalition fighters on the ground and then hit the building. The explosive power of that debris cloud swept him and Tumea off their feet.

Jackson landed on his back not far from the caved-in portion behind them. He rolled to his stomach but stayed down while blasts echoed across the courtyard. Other explosions boomed from weapons and collapsing buildings, all set off from the exploding ship.

Slowly, the noises waned, replaced by the shrieks of damaged machines and injured humans.

Jackson kept low with Tumea as they made their way up to the mangled railing. The entire building rocked, knocking them down before they could reach the edge.

Voices called out from below to run.

Tumea and Jackson got up just as the center of the courtyard folded inward. They both grabbed the railing during the quake that shook the rooftop violently.

Out of the riven hole in the ground, a mechanical monster pulled itself up using two front arms. This new machine was easily twice the size of the Hunter Ship it had destroyed with a bladed energy arm.

It rose up on all six of those arms, twisting a shelled body with a spiked back. The bow and aft section were both arched tails ending in what looked like enormous stingers.

“What the hell is that?” Tumea shouted over the beast.

“Some sort of fucked-up headless scorpion,” Jackson replied.

The monster twisted, homing in on the Coalition soldiers that had fallen to the ground. Heart Eater, Colonel Boar, and a dozen other warriors tried to run as the monster came lumbering after them.

It struck out a stinger that crushed one of the men instantly, pressing his body deep into the soil.

Tumea got up on the edge of the roof, firing wildly.

“Up here!” she shouted.

“Tumea, no!” Jackson yelled.

The rifle fire had no effect on the monster. Tumea slung her rifle and pulled out a grenade. As the soldiers ran into a building, the scorpion-like machine slammed a tail against a wall, shattering it in a heap of rubble.

Tumea pitched the grenade at the spiked spine of the monstrosity. It exploded a few seconds later, shearing off two of the spikes.

The machine coiled back one of its stingers that turned a fiery red.

Before Jackson could move, it swiped through the air, slamming into the rooftop. The force sent chunks of concrete and rebar flying. Tumea went sailing through the air.

Jackson reached up and caught her. She landed on top of him, their visors touching.

“You would have been a good fourth husband,” she said with a wicked grin. “Maybe in the next life.”

Then she pushed herself off Jackson and whirled toward the rising stinger, firing her rifle as Jackson tried to get up. The blade ripped into her chest and out her back, turning her toward him.

For a single second, he held her gaze, and then she was gone. Plucked away into the air and tossed across the courtyard.

“NO!” Jackson yelled.

He scrambled up to the edge of the building. The adjacent structure that the War Lord had fled into was starting to collapse. It finally gave way, sending up a mushroom cloud of debris skyward.

Jackson stood there, stunned.

He never even heard someone approaching, but whirled as a metal hand grabbed his shoulder. He brought up his rifle, only to have it knocked away.

A Hummer Worker Droid pushed him to the ground, and a second hovered over, aiming two smoking plasma cannons at Jackson.

His mind raced as he searched for a way to escape.

But the machines didn’t fire.

They must have had other plans—plans that would make him a prisoner.

“You won’t take me again!” he shouted.

“Quiet,” urged a voice.

Jackson looked over as Ghost ran over from the open doorway.

“He was going to shoot me, fucking asshole,” said one of the droids.

“Get up, and follow us,” Ghost said.

They went back into the building and down to the bottom floor where Frost and two soldiers Jackson didn’t recognize.

“We got most of the Canebrakes but have no way to stop that thing,” Frost said.

Another Piston walked into the hallway and waved. “Now’s our chance. Let’s go.”

They slipped outside, running deeper into the campus where another group of Pistons and civilians were sheltering. A group of Coalition fighters were here too, including Colonel Boar. Jackson counted five total but hoped more had survived.

The two allied Hummer Worker Droids held security while Jackson moved into the basement of the building.

On the floor were a dozen injured soldiers, including Akira.

He was sitting up, his upper armor off, and a hand on the bandage around his waist. He glanced up as Jackson entered with Frost and Ghost.

They explained what was happening.

“We have to get that thing away from the campus.” Akira stood and took his hand off his side. “Let’s end this.”

***

“Hold your positions!” shouted Ortiz.

A distant explosion shook the undersurface shelter. The drilling machines were getting closer.

It was E-Day all over again…

Pulse still racing, Ronin stood behind a Juggernaut mech suit, waiting for the machines with his rifle mounted against one of the mech’s legs. One hundred twenty-two other troopers hunkered down behind crates or shield turrets. Their weapons were aimed at the three hatches across the chamber, and the ceiling, where the grinding drill inched closer.

Almost twenty-four hours had passed since the machines were first spotted leaving Earth. They had been slowed down since their arrival by the explosives that brought down other tunnels and bunkers above this one.

But that only prolonged the inevitable.

Kepler Station was all but lost.

For now, the shelter still had air and artificial gravity, but Ronin wasn’t sure how long that would last. Soon the Canebrakes would break though the hatches, tearing inside and slaughtering everyone like they had on E-Day.

No, there’s still a chance…

“I want two more troopers over there!” Ortiz shouted.

Grabbing a young man from behind a crate, she pointed at a hatch with only five troopers in firing positions.

Ortiz was the highest-ranked officer left down here. It seemed the top of the command chain had been decimated.

Ronin turned to look at the hatch War Commander Thacker had fled through hours earlier. Maybe he was on his way to Mesopotamia, or maybe he was at some other bunker even deeper underground. Seeing the commander leave had nearly shattered what little morale remained.

The voices around Ronin were laced with fear.

“We have to get out of here,” someone said. “We won’t survive another hour.”

“We will if we stay together!”

The voice came from behind Ronin. He turned to see Bradley. His friend was next to Micky and two other troopers Ronin had trained with.

“Focus!” Ortiz shouted.

She looked in his direction but didn’t seem to recognize Ronin in his stolen armor.

So far, no one had made him, and Ronin wasn’t about to reveal his identity.

He wasn’t sure if Ortiz would try and put him under arrest, or if she would care at this point. Either way, he thought it was better to keep a low profile.

Not that it would matter either way.

Ronin wanted to believe there was a chance they still might be victorious and his family would be safe at Mesopotamia. The only thing keeping him from a complete panic attack was holding onto the hope that somehow the machines wouldn’t find Mesopotamia. Or, if they did, the LDC had some trick up their sleeves to protect everyone.

Another explosion boomed somewhere far above them. Dust sprinkled down like light snow.

Ronin blinked away the sweat from his brow.

Keep it together. You have to stay strong.

He took a drink of water from the straw in his helmet, trying to ignore the whine of the drills chiseling through the base and the moonrock, growing closer by the second.

Sobbing broke out.

“We’re gonna die. We’re all gonna die.”

Ronin looked toward a trooper sitting with his back to a crate.

“Pick up your rifle and get your ass up!” someone shouted.

Two troopers reached down and yanked the man to his feet. Ortiz strode over, scooped up the soldier’s rifle, and slammed it against his chest.

“Hold your fucking post, trooper,” she said. “Do not move from this position.”

“But—” the man started.

“Look, you’re right. We’re all gonna die if everyone loses their shit like you. If you want to live, follow orders and get ready to fight.”

Ronin focused back on his hatch when the lights suddenly flickered. A moment later, they went off completely, bathing the chamber in darkness.

Automatic helmet lights fired across the black before the backup lights switched on.

“Are they coming?” someone shouted.

“This place is going to be our tomb!” another said.

Someone else yelled, “We need to get out of here!”

Ortiz ran past Ronin, yelling, “Stay put. Do not move!”

A quake shook under his boots. The tremors seemed to be coming from behind the hatch he was aiming at.

Three concussive blasts went off, each sending a shockwave rippling through the chamber.

Ronin moved his finger to the trigger as the hatch opened.

“Hold your fire!” someone shouted.

Three troopers rushed inside, covered in moon dust. One had severe burns across his armor.

They staggered into the bunker, the burned man falling to his knee pads. Ortiz ran over and knelt next to him. Ronin was close enough he could hear their conversation.

“Catch your breath, and tell me what’s happening out there,” she said.

“The machines are almost here,” he wheezed. “We blew the last of the tunnels.”

Ortiz stiffened and looked down the passage.

“Move everything we have in front of the hatches,” she ordered.

All around the room, troopers started to gather gear to create barricades.

“You!” Ortiz yelled, pointing at Ronin. “You know how to use one of these?”

She pointed at the Juggernaut mech.

“Yes,” he replied deep as he could to mask his voice.

Ortiz studied him a moment as if she couldn’t quite place that voice.

“Then get in it, and help move some crates,” she said.

He climbed up into the cockpit. Truthfully, he had only spent three training hours in a Juggernaut since arriving at Kepler Station. But he had watched videos back on Earth, and it wasn’t all that different than some of the virtual reality games.

Once he was inside, he turned it on and slipped his limbs into the slings that controlled the unit. He moved his legs, also moving the mech’s legs that mirrored his movements. Then he lifted his arms that controlled the mechanical limbs.

He lowered them to scoop the closest stack of crates that three troopers had been using as cover. Flakes of dust continued spiraling down from the ceiling as he picked them up. When he looked up, he noticed a fissure suddenly split the ceiling with an audible crack. More fractures spread from the original rift.

“Watch out!” Ronin shouted. He dropped the crates and pointed up with a mechanical arm. “They are breaking—”

Chunks of ceiling plummeted right toward a pair of troopers in front of Ronin. He jumped into the flood of debris, protecting the men as hunks hammered the cockpit.

The sheer force knocked the Juggernaut to the ground. He looked up through the cracked cockpit lid as more of the ceiling gave way, crashing around him in a deadly hailstorm.

Pinned down by the rubble, he noticed the hatch he was supposed to be blocking off began to glow around the edges. Energy blades penetrated the alloy, slowly sawing through the hatch.

Ronin pushed at the ground, trying to shake off the rubble. At the same time, multiple blades finished cutting through the hatch, beginning to meet at the bottom.

All around, panicked voices called out.

“Hold your fire!” Ortiz shouted. “Wait ’til they’re inside!”

The blades seared together in the hatch.

Ronin tried to stand again, but there was still too much weight on the mech unit. He screamed as the unit fell back to the ground.

After taking a breath, he pushed up as hard as he could. The largest pieces fell off, and he managed to turn the mech sideways. He reached out to open the cracked lid, but it was jammed.

Freeing his legs, he then kicked it open.

Ronin jumped out and rolled on the ground just as more of the ceiling gave way. Giant pieces of rock crashed into the suit, crushing it.

The hatch gave way next, skidding across the floor.

“Fire!” Ortiz shouted.

The first Canebrake emerging from the tunnel was immediately shredded by the hundreds of bolts slamming into its body.

For a fleeting second, there was silence.

Even the drill had stopped above.

But then Ronin heard it.

A scratching, crunching, and metallic cacophony of machines—machines fighting to be the first to the slaughter.

Over the noise came high-pitched screams.

Ronin looked up as a long metal neck protruded out of the opening in the ceiling. A knobbed snakelike head with a mane of bulbs twisted toward the troopers.

He froze when he realized the bulbs were the deformed faces of people.

All screaming in agony.

“What in God’s name…” he whispered.

“Up there!” Ortiz shouted. “Shoot them!”

As soon as the troopers turned their weapons upward, the Canebrakes from the tunnel exploded into the chamber.

A wave of bolts ripped into the five men standing guard. They collapsed without returning a single shot, their armor sizzling and broken.

Ronin dove for cover behind a stack of crates. The metal snake fell from the ceiling with a heavy thump. He brought himself back up to his knees and aimed at the horrible human faces on the creature. The bolts pounded the grotesque features, blasting them into pulp.

Two more of the snakes dropped down, landing with thundering bangs. One of them slithered toward a trooper. The eyes on the human faces bulged as the heads peeled back like flower petals to reveal a maw filled with fangs. It snatched the soldier, swallowing half of his body.

Ronin stared in horror at the kicking legs that vanished. The mouth closed, the human heads again releasing an unholy chorus of shrieks.

A bolt tore past his helmet, freeing him from the shock.

He skidded behind a crate and then got up, mounting his rifle and firing at the snakes in the center of the chamber. Behind them, dozens of Canebrakes charged with their segmented arms whipping at troopers caught in the open.

Ortiz was one of them but she stood her ground, firing calculated shots into the machines storming toward her position.

“Lieutenant!” Zlaner shouted. “Get out of there!”

She ran behind another stack of crates, popped up, fired, and then bolted for the next cover.

Ronin did his best to cover her and the other retreating troopers. One man was almost to their location when a bolt hit him in the back. He flew forward, slamming into the ground in front of the crate Ronin was hunched behind.

Rounds forced him down again.

“Retreat!” someone yelled. “RUN!”

When Ronin turned, he noticed Micky and Bradley fighting from behind a shield turret about one hundred feet away. Behind them dozens of soldiers were already at a hatch and dismantling the barricade.

“Come back!” Zlaner shouted. “We have to hold this position!”

Ronin got up and aimed at a snake that had wrapped around a trooper. He pelted the metal hide with bolts in an effort to save the man.

Guttural crunching confirmed Ronin was too late.

The beast released the crushed body.

Ronin turned his fire to help the last of the troopers cut off across the space, routed by the snakes. Despite his efforts, three of the men were torn apart under the Canebrake fire, leaving only Ortiz and two soldiers hiding behind some shields in the center of the room.

A snake slammed into the shields, forcing the soldiers from their cover.

“Run!” Ronin shouted.

He fired bursts as the three soldiers got up and sprinted toward the walls of crates.

Ortiz turned to shoot at a pair of Canebrakes leaping into the air. They both extended their arms, wrapping around the two soldiers flanking Ortiz.

She tried to dive away from another limb, but the blade pierced her back and lifted her into the air. Another arm wrapped around her neck, plucking her head off like a bottle cap.

Ronin stumbled backward, his guts twisting.

The machines stampeded toward him.

Ronin fired a few shots, but it was pointless.

Everyone was fleeing from the massacre.

He kept low as he raced away. Two more troopers were cut down by bolts blazing across the chamber. He slid to a stop next to one he recognized, ducking under the incoming rounds.

“Bradley,” he whispered.

His friend was flat on his back, clutching his chest, but his eyes were still open.

Next to them, the other soldier was on his side.

Ronin saw the nametag.

It was Micky.

Smoke drifted out of the back of his helmet from a bolt that had punched straight through his brain.

Ronin let out a curse. This is not what he wanted for his former friend.

Bradley reached up, and Ronin helped him up on wobbly legs.

“Ronin?” Bradley said. “Am I dead?”

“Not yet. But we will be if you don’t hurry and get your feet moving.”

Hunching, Ronin tried to keep him and Bradley low as they made their way toward an exit with a halo of removed crates on the floor. Other troopers were already going inside.

But that way led back into the base.

Ronin looked toward the hatch that Thacker had left through—the same hatch Ronin had entered through hours ago.

It led outside, to the rover.

If it’s still there…

He pulled Bradley in that direction, bolts hissing past them.

Two more troopers had fallen just ahead.

Ronin noticed one was still moving.

“Zlaner,” he said.

The sergeant pushed himself up, his back smoldering from a bolt. Ronin and Bradley crouched behind a wall of crates next to Zlaner.

“Is your suit compromised?” Ronin asked.

After a beat, Zlaner shook his helmet.

“How about you, Bradley?” Ronin asked.

“Yeah, but I can patch it.” Bradley pulled out a tube of adhesive they carried to seal off their suits. He squeezed the putty over the damaged plate as Zlaner leaned over.

“The hell?” he asked. “Is that you, Ronin?”

No use denying it now.

Ronin nodded. “War Commander Thacker was trying to have me executed, but I escaped. I came back to fight.”

The cries of troopers filled the chamber as the machines tore into them.

They were out of time.

Zlaner was still struggling back up to his knees.

“We have to go,” Ronin said. “Bradley, you good?”

Bradley nodded.

“Stay as low as you can,” Ronin said.

Zlaner grabbed his rifle and limped toward the hatch. Stacks of crates blocked the exit. Ronin began pulling them away, letting them crash to the ground, while Zlaner and Bradley hunched behind a pile already on the ground.

The horrific sounds of troopers being slaughtered filled Ronin with cold terror. Adrenaline rushed through his vessels, helping him to move the last parts of the barricade away. He was finally able to reach the door. It hissed open, and he shouldered his rifle, sweeping the passage with his scope.

So far, no contacts.

Together, the three troopers ran through the passage toward the next hatch. Beyond that, there was only the final airlock chamber from what Ronin could remember.

They made it through the next hatch but halted on the other side.

Separating them from the airlock chamber was a coiled snake. Humps protruded out of the hide from what had to be multiple troopers being digested. Hunks of armor and bones protruded out of piles of what appeared to be dung.

Zlaner raised his rifle, but Ronin held up his fist.

The creature remained curled up, evidently lethargic from its meal.

Ronin started to lead them toward the beast, noticing the black armor of the Royal Troopers sticking out of the mound of shit. It appeared Thacker and his entourage hadn’t gotten far when they fled.

Ronin wondered which piece was the War Commander.

One thing was certain, he died how he had lived—a piece of shit.

Looking away, Ronin focused on the snake. The human faces on the knobbed neck of the snake were all dormant, the eyes closed. He wasn’t sure if they could kill this beast with their weapons, but maybe they didn’t have to.

“Stay here,” Ronin whispered.

He ran and jumped over the snake as it lifted its head of human faces lazily. The eyelids batted over blood-shot eyes that followed him to the hatch. He opened it, but instead of closing that hatch, he hit the airlock button to open the exterior hatch that led outside.

Air whooshed out of ducts, warning lights flashing all around him. He felt his body suddenly lighten as the artificial gravity kicked off. The hatch opened to a view of the regolith.

The snake slithered a few feet toward him before coiling again, trying to protect the human faces. The bulging eyes glassed over, and the faces twisted into masks of horror.

Ronin waved for Bradley and Zlaner. They squeezed past the tube of metal and into the airlock.

Outside, the rover was right where he left it. Ronin got behind the wheel and wasted no time driving them away. He looked at Kepler Station in the distance, the towers gone. A single Praying Mantis curved over the base.

Ronin turned from the view and sped away.

As soon as they were clear, they activated the short-range comms.

“You guys okay?” Ronin asked.

“Yeah,” Zlaner said.

Bradley didn’t answer. He was rummaging through his pack. He pulled something out and handed it up. Ronin turned slightly, seeing his friend holding The Warrior Codex.

“I kept it for you,” Bradley said over the comms.

Ronin was too shocked to know what to say at first. “Thank you,” he finally choked out. “Can you hold on to it a bit longer?”

Bradley tucked it safely away.

“Where are we going?” Zlaner asked. He looked behind them, but Ronin could tell the sergeant had lost his will to fight.

They had all accepted the machines had taken the station.

“I know a place where we can hunker down,” Ronin said.

“Then what?” Zlaner asked.

Ronin knew the situation was dire when the sergeant was asking him what was going to happen next.

“I guess we pray for a miracle,” Ronin answered.

— 29 —

Don’t be afraid. I am with you again. Be strong, Chloe. I need you.

Apeiron’s voice repeated in Chloe’s mind, just like it had on Earth over a month ago.

Hearing the AI brought her comfort. After all, Apeiron had saved her from death and encouraged her to go on with her life.

The distant shriek of a Canebrake made Chloe tremble.

She moved closer to Cyrus in the darkness. They weren’t far from Tadhg, but even with her INVS eyes, she could hardly see him with Farland and two Pistons at the door to the locker room. Two more soldiers remained in the hallway of the fitness building.

For the past hour, they had been trapped in here, just a thousand feet from the entrance to the underground hive at the Computer and Artificial Intelligence Building. There had been no contact with Captain Akira Hayashi or the others, but Chloe could hear the distant fighting.

The booming explosions and the rattle of gunfire were becoming more sporadic.

After a few more minutes, the noises ceased altogether. But the tile floor continued to rumble from what felt like footsteps of a giant monster.

“We need to send a runner,” Tadhg whispered. “See if the area is clear.”

Farland turned to a thin corporal.

“AJ, go see if you can get eyes on what’s happening,” Farland said. “Be careful.”

“Yes, sir.”

The young man took off.

Chloe felt the tremors again. Something was definitely still out there. She huddled with Cyrus, trying to keep it together.

Stay calm, my child, you are strong, Apeiron said. You will make it through this. I won’t let anything happen to you.

Twenty minutes later, the rap of boots echoed down the hallway. AJ ran back inside and paused to catch his breath.

“Well?” Tadhg asked.

“I didn’t see any of our troops,” AJ said. “Not alive, anyways. But I also didn’t see any machines.”

“What about across the river?” Tadhg asked.

“I only checked the campus.”

Tadhg hesitated, then motioned for Chloe.

It was time to move.

Chloe took a deep breath as she left the room with the soldiers. Three Pistons led the way down the hall. They came out in a long room with a swimming pool bathed in moonlight coming from a hole in the roof.

The team of eight spread out around the pool of dark green water. Tadhg was the first to the exit door. He peeked out, then gave the advance signal.

You are safe. You are strong, Apeiron said.

Keeping low, Chloe moved outside, navigating upended metal picnic tables set under drooping trees with Cyrus. Beyond the green space was a brick courtyard set between a variety of cube-shaped buildings coated with ash. The unique complex led toward filthy mirrored exteriors of slanted buildings and a yellow structure that looked like a giant food blender.

To her left, the campus buildings were gone. There was nothing left except for a crater the size of a football field. Rays of moonlight illuminated the jagged edge where buildings had been torn from their foundations.

This was the entrance to their hive.

Do not fear Otto, Apeiron said. His reign of horror will end soon. And you will help end it.

Tadhg advanced toward a cluster of connected structures that made up the MIT Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence building. It seemed Akira’s distraction had worked. Chloe didn’t see a single machine.

The group pushed up a stoop of stairs toward a lobby, moving in single file. Broken glass lay around the entrance.

Tadhg moved inside and returned a few moments later, flashing signals. Two of the Pistons remained in the lobby, while the rest of the team continued deeper into the building.

From studying the map of this building, Chloe knew they were headed down to the labs.

Tadhg passed the open doors to an auditorium.

Doctor Cross once lectured here, Apeiron said.

Chloe looked at the empty seats and the podium facing them, picturing the zealous scientist speaking about his theories of merging humans with machine while preserving the neural structures. She was glad she would help bring his madness to an end. Even if it meant she lost her life in the process.

Chloe was ready to die to stop Otto.

The group filed into a stairwell down to the labs. It was at the third floor down Chloe heard the first sign of their enemy.

Chattering came from an open door into the lab facility.

Tadhg went in first, then Farland followed by a Piston. Chloe stayed back at the door with Cyrus, but she could see Tadhg draw his sword. Movement suddenly bolted toward him from across the room.

A flash of orange split a shadow. Two pieces of alloy fell apart, clanking on the ground. The clattering continued, like teeth chomping against each other.

Crunching and a thump sounded, then a muffled grunt.

Two minutes later, everything was silent again.

Tadhg returned with his sword sheathed and his rifle in hand.

“Area clear,” he said. “Stay close and keep quiet.”

Chloe followed, passing the upper body of a former lab tech droid. The white unit had a face made of silicon that looked oddly human.

They passed into another lab, finding four more service units lying in pieces. One of the droid’s jaw was still moving, grinding its broken teeth together.

Farland went into the next room with Tadhg.

“The shit is this?” asked Corporal AJ.

Chloe stepped into a darker, cavernous space. The soldiers switched on their lights, the beams spearing across the room.

The white walls were all colored in a black tar-like substance. Thick conduits snaked across the floor and ceiling. Those tubes led into another room that was once a lab, furnished with two workstations and a few pieces of equipment hanging from the ceiling.

But those were the only two things that remained. Attached to the walls were pods of bubbling liquid. It was as if they had suddenly stepped into an alien space ship.

Chloe thought what she had seen in the Hell Hive beneath Megacity Paris was a nightmare. Then, when she found herself a prisoner at Atlas Station, she thought she experienced the worst that humans could do to one another.

She had been wrong.

Inside the closest pod was a pale humanoid body with scaly flesh. What she thought were tubes were actually alloy squid-like arms. Eight of them, connected to the creature. The chest was split open, the organs removed, but somehow, it was still alive.

She held in a breath as she approached the next pod. Submerged in the fluid was a human head connected to a spinal cord. The eyes followed her as she moved.

“We have to destroy this place,” Farland said.

“Fucking right we do,” Cyrus said.

“Once we finish our mission,” Tadhg said. “Keep moving.”

Chloe tore her gaze away and hurried out of the room. The conduits went down a stairwell, and into a large basement.

Liquid pooled on the floor.

It didn’t take long to see where it had come from.

The pods here were shattered. Clear polycarbonate shards lay across the floor, glimmering in the spilled fluid. The occupants were long gone—escaped or dead.

Chloe raised her pistol, shining her light at a raised metal platform. On it were the servers.

Tadhg was already on his way, splashing through the water while raking his rifle back and forth.

Chloe fished out the case containing the virus. Tadhg cleared the other side of the room, then waved for her to join him on the platform.

The rest of the soldiers spread out in the water.

Connect your comm-pad and the backup power pack. I will start working on the security measures, Apeiron instructed. As soon as I’m in, you will have to upload the virus and transmit it out on the network.

Chloe used a wire to connect the comm-pad to the server. Then she put the holo-ports down on the platform.

“As soon as Apeiron hacks her way in, we should expect company,” Tadhg said. “No way the machines won’t notice.”

Apeiron flickered to life as a hologram over the holo-port. The AI put a finger to her chin as a spiderweb of blue emerged.

“This is an interesting security web, if you will, but not impossible to crack,” Apeiron said.

“How long?” Tadhg asked.

“Ten minutes. Maybe less.”

Another hologram flickered to life on the platform.

Chloe stepped back from the thin form of Otto. He wore a silver coat that matched his metal jaw and the streaks of gray in his slicked back hair.

“Ah, if it isn’t Chloe Cotter,” said the AI. He reached out to her face, swiping it with a translucent finger. “And, Apeiron… I’m honestly surprised it took you this long to find me.”

Apeiron kept focused on the web. “Don’t listen to him. He will do everything he can to trick us. Focus on the intel grab.”

“Trick you? I’m pleased you’re here,” Otto said. “And for an intel grab? Why don’t you just ask for what you want? I’ll happily provide it to you.”

Apeiron bent down, dismantling the web quicker now.

“Stay alert,” Tadhg said.

The other soldiers spread out further around the platform.

Otto looked at them and smiled. “You really think I left this building unguarded? You think I wasn’t ready for you?”

Pods on the wall across the room suddenly broke off and fell to the ground. Four black Hummer Droids strode out of hidden passages into the water. The same kind that Apeiron had once used for a physical form. But these were modified with blades serving as arms and helmets that crested into sharp points. Their face screens glowed to life, resembling Otto.

The closest one leapt toward the platform.

Tadhg brought up his rifle and fired bolts into the hulking droid that sparked against the heavy alloy. The bladed arms shot forward. One cut through his rifle barrel, and the other hacked into his collar bone, piercing his Grind Shield in a flash of red.

He let out a bellow of agony as the blade stabbed deeper.

Chloe gasped as the droid flung him away like a toy.

The other Pistons fired, bolts pounding the machines that darted toward them. Screams of pain rang out as the bladed arms thrust and hacked into the soldiers.

“Get behind me!” Cyrus yelled. He crowded in front of her as one of the machines jumped up to the platform, slashing with both arms. One of them cut him across his chest armor.

Chloe reached out and pulled him back. He fell on top of her, rolling off, and moaning. She drew her pistol and fired at the screen, destroying the image of Otto. Two more shots knocked it backward, until the machine fell back into the water.

She stood and kept firing until the droid stopped moving.

Pained voices filled the room when she eased off the trigger.

Everywhere she looked, she saw dead or downed soldiers. They had managed to destroy two of the machines, leaving only a single unit.

Farland tried to sit up as the surviving black droid strode toward him with its bladed arms. He raised his hand, shouting, “No, no!”

Chloe aimed her pistol and fired at the machine as it thrust a blade through his hand and into his helmet with a crunch. Then it retracted the blade and turned, homing in on her and Cyrus.

She kept firing, bolts simmering into the thick alloy.

Cyrus managed to pick up his rifle and join the fight.

And still, the machine didn’t go down in the barrage of bolts.

Apeiron continued to work through the blue security spiderweb until it finally vanished.

“You’re into the network,” Otto said dryly. “Congratulations, now you can see what I’ve built.”

Otto smiled from ear to ear.

Chloe couldn’t believe it. Apeiron and Doctor Crichton were right about his ego. The AI was letting Apeiron in to see his creations.

Go upload the virus, Chloe, now!

Chloe backed up toward the servers, still firing at the approaching droid.

An orange flash boomeranged across the room. The machine staggered forward, collapsing into the water with an energy sword stabbing out of its head.

Tadhg got up from where he’d been thrown, staggering, an arm clutching his wound.

“This is getting frustrating,” Otto said. “But soon you’ll be crushed like the insects you are.”

“Enough bloodshed,” Apeiron replied. “Please, I beg you, stop this madness.”

Otto chuckled. “You always were weak, Apeiron. Jason’s biggest mistake was modeling you off his pathetic sister. Now that you have seen what I’ve created, I have no use for you.”

The AI reached out and grabbed Apeiron by the neck, lifting her hologram.

Chloe reached the server and turned where the comm-pad dangled on a wire.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Otto asked.

Tadhg climbed up next to her with his energy sword he had retrieved.

“She’s ending you, like I should have months ago,” he grunted.

Heavy footsteps clanked in the distance, drawing toward them.

End this forever, Chloe, Apeiron said.

Chloe looked up as a red light flashed down the stairs.

Then she hit the upload button.

***

“Something’s wrong,” Frost said. “The virus should have worked by now.”

Akira hunched behind the sixth floor window of a lecture hall with a view of the hive crater and the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Building. Okami licked at his hand, tail wagging.

“It’s okay, it’s almost over,” Akira whispered.

They were close, but also so far away from achieving victory.

Akira had to get inside the building, but it was too big of a risk with the monster machine prowling around the hive. Akira couldn’t see it right now, but he could hear the clatter of its bladed legs. The fact that the monster was still hunting down survivors told Akira that Frost was right. Something was wrong. Tadhg and Chloe must have run into trouble.

Otherwise, the machines would be shut down by now.

Jackson and Ghost returned from scouting and crouched down next to Akira and his droid. He turned to look at the others.

Kobe, Hina, and Fish were here with Juno and Blinky. Aside from them, it was just two Pistons, a volunteer that came with Kobe, and two Coalition soldiers, including Colonel Boar.

The rest of their forces were out there hiding.

So many lives had already been lost. And they were going to lose more unless they could figure out a way to take out this seemingly immortal machine.

Okami growled a moment before it clambered into view on the other side of the crater. Smoke drifted away from damage to the spiked shell.

They had fired everything they had at it, but only managed to destroy one of the stingers and partially break two of the legs. Juno had even tried her transmitter on it, to no avail. They were running out of options.

“I got an idea,” Jackson said. “We got any C4 left?”

“Yes, but we can’t get close enough to use it,” Akira said.

“I brought down a Harvester with it, trust me.”

Akira looked at him skeptically, but Jackson wasn’t the type to lie.

“Let me try, I got unfinished business with that ugly bastard,” Jackson said.

“Ghost, bring it over here.”

A few minutes later, Ghost set down a case with their three final explosives.

Akira looked out the window.

They had to do something to stop this monster.

“I’m sorry about War Commander Contos, I should have listened to his orders,” Jackson said. “Let me make up for it. If I die now, at least I can try taking that thing with me.”

Akira grunted. “Try not to die.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Before Akira could change his mind, Jackson climbed out the window with the small packs of explosives stuck to his arm. He hopped down to the alley and ran fast despite the bulky Coalition armor and helmet.

“Hey!” Jackson shouted. “Hey, over here!”

The machine whirled toward him with a stinger as he ran out into the courtyard. Jackson drew his sword, raising it above his head.

It was just like Cat Ba.

Only this time, it seemed he had a better plan.

The creature hammered its stinger down. Jackson rolled out of the way right as it slammed into the ground, sending up chunks of concrete. He got up and tossed one of the C4 packs on the leg before rolling again.

The stinger came down right behind him.

“Frost, take out that other stinger!” Akira yelled.

A .50 cal shot cracked, along with plasma bolts from the windows of their building. The rounds pummeled the stinger, making it jerk from the impacts.

The creature whirled toward them, swiping at the air with a front leg.

Jackson used the distraction to get enough distance and detonate the first of the C4s. The blast snapped through the already cracked alloy. The leg gave out, and the beast fell onto its side.

It swiftly pushed itself up with the other five legs while Jackson launched another C4 pack against another leg that swung right toward him. He ducked under it, and then ran under the beast, tossing the last hunk of C4 right under the belly.

The machine twisted, pursuing him before he could get enough distance to detonate the explosives. It dragged the shattered leg across the courtyard while the stinger coiled above its body again.

He zigzagged as it struck over and over. Each time, he managed to avoid the man-sized blade, but the creature was gaining.

Not only that, Akira feared Jackson wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

He ran right for the crater edge, not slowing.

“Jackson!” Akira yelled.

The Engine turned at the last moment and twisted his body as he fell over the side of the crater rim. The C4 packs exploded, another leg shearing off, and the blast from the belly knocking the creature to its side.

The spiked shell skidded right over the edge and into the hive pit.

A loud thud reverberated as the monster slammed against the bottom.

They waited a minute, but Jackson still hadn’t returned from the crater.

Akira swallowed a lump in his throat, fearing the Engine had sacrificed himself to stop the monster.

“We got more problems,” Frost said. She directed her sniper rifle at the sky to the southeast. Two Hunter Ships blasted across the horizon.

Reinforcements.

A squadron of six Praying Mantis fighters fired past the larger transport ships.

“Ghost, Frost, you hold them back,” Akira said. “I’m going to go find Tadhg’s team with Juno, Kobe, and the droids.”

The other soldiers moved quickly, but as soon as Akira took a few steps, he stumbled, dizzy. Okami looked up and Juno reached over to Akira.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” she said. “I know you’re an Engine, but maybe we should stop for a bit.”

Akira didn’t want to waste a single second, but agreed. She put a hand on his arm, and smiled behind her visor. He couldn’t deny he had grown fond of her over the past few weeks. She was a good person, and smart.

Without her, they would never have made it this far.

The dizziness passed and Akira left the building. Kobe led the way with Fish. They entered an alley just as the Hunter Ships descended over the campus. Vents opened along the hulls of the vessels. But this time, instead of Coalition commandos, monsters leapt out into the night.

Canebrakes uncurled from their fetal positions, limbs expanding from their frames before hitting the ground.

Gunfire met them where they landed.

“We have to hurry,” Akira said.

Blinky ran out of the alley and up toward the steps of the building. To their left, the crater edge over the hive came into view.

They moved past in combat intervals, Akira sweeping the windows of the adjacent building, sky, and ground for hostiles. Okami sniffed the air, tail going down.

“Contact,” Kobe said.

Akira turned back toward the crater rim where he was aiming.

A hand appeared over the side. Then another. A hulking figure pulled themselves up and out of the crater.

“I don’t believe it,” Akira said.

“Believe it,” Jackson said. He pushed himself up and ran to the group.

The anger Akira had harbored for Jackson was gone.

The Engine had broken an order at Cat Ba, yes, but by doing so, he had kicked off a chain of events that led him here with the Coalition soldiers. Without them, they would have lost this battle.

Akira patted him on the back.

“Well done,” he said.

They ran into the lobby of the Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Building.

“I’ll stay here with Fish and Hina to watch your backs,” Kobe said.

“Good luck, ya ugly asshole,” Fish said.

“Big asshole, big asshole,” Blinky said.

Akira grinned as he followed Okami into the building. They walked past an auditorium and into an open stairwell. By the time they got to the labs, Akira was winded, his gut wound flaring up.

He paused for a moment, trying to fight the agony and the dizziness.

Okami sniffed his hand and let out a whine.

“I’m okay,” Akira whispered.

Juno put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should rest another minute.”

“I’m good.”

They continued down the stairs to the first of the labs. Inside, a handful of diced up service droids lay on the floor.

“What is this place?” Juno whispered.

“The lab of a deranged psychopath,” Akira said.

He passed pods containing experiments blending humans with machines. With a katana in hand, Akira advanced down another stairwell.

At the bottom landing, he listened. At least his ears were working properly. He could hear heavy breathing and saw the glow of a hologram.

“Careful,” Akira whispered.

“Join us,” said a deep voice.

Akira cautiously made his way halfway down the stairs with a view of a flooded basement and a raised platform. Again, his vision blurred, but he could see dead Pistons sprawled in the pooled water.

Now Akira knew what had happened to Tadhg and his team.

Akira focused his gaze on the servers across the room where the big Engine was strung up next to Chloe and Cyrus. Two black Hummer droids stood guard next to them, their bladed arms glowing and ready to strike.

Another pair of droids stood in the water next to the hologram of Otto and Apeiron. He had her by the neck.

“Akira the Brave,” Otto said. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve saved the best part of tonight for last.”

“Stay here,” Akira said to Juno.

He walked down the final stairs with Jackson while Blinky stayed behind with Juno. Okami leapt down, barking in front of Akira as he pulled his other katana. The blades fired in the darkness like two flames.

“It didn’t have to come to this,” Otto said. “You could have chosen to lead my armies, to transcend with millions of others. We could be rebuilding instead of fighting, but alas, you, like War Commander Contos, are too stubborn. That is why I stuck him like the pig he was.”

Akira gripped his swords tightly, the anger rising inside of him. He almost took the bait, but calmed himself. He was weak from his wounds, dizzy, and cold.

Otto wanted Akira to make a mistake. He couldn’t afford that in his injured state.

“You no longer have a choice on whether to lead my armies,” Otto said. “When this is over, I will bring you back to my hive and transform you in a way where you will be as loyal to me as your pathetic dog is to you.”

Okami growled.

“Don’t worry,” Otto continued. “You can be right by your master’s side when I send you both to the moon.”

Akira took a step, his legs wobbly.

Don’t give in to rage and irrationality, he thought.

“That’s right, Captain,” Otto said. “My forces have obliterated Kepler Station and are on their way to Mesopotamia, thanks to some very talkative LDC officers. Soon, the colonists will be given a chance to submit or die. You’ll be the one to make them that offer.”

Akira shook his head. “That will never happen.”

The two droids by the servers raised their bladed arms toward Tadhg. The Engine was limp but breathing. Blood ran down his chest armor.

Cyrus had fallen unconscious, but Chloe was fully alert.

She kept trying to mouth something to Akira.

A few more…

Minutes…

At least, that was what it looked like.

Akira squinted, his vision blurring in and out.

Had they uploaded the virus?

Was she trying to buy time?

“Since we’re all here, let’s play a little game,” Otto said. “Save your fellow Engine, Tadhg, or save the innocent Chloe, who Apeiron loves so dearly.”

Apeiron squirmed in Otto’s grip.

“Jackson, get ready to fight,” Akira whispered.

“Just say the word, Captain.”

“You move, and I kill them all,” Otto said.

One of the two droids on the platform hopped down and made its way over to stand with the pair of droids in the water.

“Juno, the one on the platform!” Akira shouted.

“On it!” she called back.

Akira blinked to clear his vision. He waited until the droid twitched and then fell over, face down from the transmitter. Then he charged at the three in front of him, slashing with his katanas at the one on the left, and middle. They struck back and thrust their arms at Akira while Jackson attacked the third.

Blades clashed against metal, sparks flying, the din nearly deafening.

All sense of time seemed to slow for Akira. He could no longer feel his body, or the impacts of his swords. Everything he did was out of instinct, from a lifetime of training in the art of combat.

He parried blows, struck back, and jabbed his sword into the chest of a droid on his left. Then he withdrew that sword and brought both of his blades together to cut off the head of the droid in the middle.

When he scissored through the neck, he suddenly felt heat in his heart.

“Akira!” Juno called out.

He looked down to see the droid had pierced his chest with a bladed arm. There was very little pain, but the heat told Akira all he needed to know.

Numbness passed over his body.

He fell backward, landing against the stairs.

Juno came rushing down with Blinky. The friendly droid helped finish off Otto’s mechanical warriors with Jackson.

Akira blinked, trying to stay awake as blood rushed from his new wound. He heard Apeiron talking, and it took all of his focus to make out the words.

“That sensation you’re feeling is an infiltration virus,” she said. “Chloe uploaded it a few minutes ago, and it is now being transmitted to all of your units.”

“That’s impossible, I don’t see any sign of…” Otto said.

He began to flicker, the hologram fading in and out.

“No AI can defeat me,” Otto said.

“AI didn’t defeat you,” Apeiron said. “Doctor Jason Crichton, my loving brother, and the best man I ever knew did this. He programmed the virus before his death that we…”

She lifted a finger toward Chloe.

“That we so brazenly uploaded right under your nose,” Apeiron finished.

“Network off,” Otto said.

Nothing happened.

Several seconds passed.

Still nothing happened.

The lab was deadly silent.

“Network off!” Otto roared.

“Must feel odd losing all control,” Chloe said. “Check to see the new owner of your local power and network. Did you plan for that?”

Otto glared at Chloe with a horrified gaze. It was the first time Akira had ever seen actual terror from the mad doctor.

“The virus is being transmitted to the moon too, using your ships,” Apeiron said. “In a few minutes, every machine in your legions will drop to the ground, unable to hurt a human ever again.”

Otto released his hand, dropping Apeiron. Eyes flitting wildly, he backed away from her as if he was trying to flee.

With nothing more than the flicker of a few voxels, Otto vanished.

“Help me!” Juno shouted.

Jackson rushed back over while Blinky strode over to free Tadhg, Chloe, and Cyrus.

“Stay with me,” Juno said. “Fight, Akira. Fight!”

He tried to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids were growing heavier by the second.

Jackson leaned down while Juno pulled bandages from a medkit. Akira could feel the warmth leaving his body. Okami barked and licked at Akira’s hand. Juno stuffed the bandages in his armor to try and stop the flow.

Tadhg staggered over, also looking worse for wear.

“Captain, no,” he grumbled.

Chloe and Cyrus were there too, his arms around her and Blinky for support.

More footsteps sounded above them.

Kobe and Fish walked down with Hina.

“Oh no,” Kobe said. “Akira…”

“Please. I… I want to see the sky,” Akira said.

“I’ll carry you,” Jackson said.

He leaned down and scooped Akira up in his arms. Juno continued to hold the bandages down as they carried him out of the building.

Outside, Akira was greeted with silence.

A peaceful serenity had settled over the campus.

Jackson carried him out into a courtyard. In the distance, Akira saw the blurred shapes of human soldiers in front of a graveyard of machines. The Canebrakes lay in heaps where they had fallen from the virus Apeiron transmitted around the world.

Fires burned on the horizon from the crash sites of the Hunter Ships that delivered the machines here.

The quiet gave way to shouting, and a bark.

Okami came running over, tail wagging.

“You did it!” Ghost shouted. “You—”

“Captain!” Frost shouted.

Jackson set him down on the concrete as the group crowded around. Akira put a hand on Okami, and looked past the faces to the moon. Somewhere up there, Lise, Elan, and Ronin were finally safe.

Humanity was safe.

“Captain, hold on,” Ghost said. He bent down, gripping his hand. “Stay with us, brother.”

“Sing me a song one last time,” Akira said.

“No, you’re going to make it.”

Okami barked, his tail now down.

“You’re going to be okay,” Frost said. Tears flowed from behind her visor. “Please, Akira, hold on for us.”

Akira swallowed, trying to keep his eyes open as Okami nudged up against him. “It’s okay, boy. Dao is going to look after you.”

Juno bent down. “We can save you.”

“Make sure Dao gets Okami, and try to fix Kichiro,” Akira said. He tried to hold back a cough, but failed. The deep rattle brought blood bubbling out of his lips. When the tremor passed, he gritted his teeth. “Please, Juno, take care of them for me.”

Lowering her head, Juno sobbed and nodded.

Akira looked to Ghost, Frost, and Tadhg in turn.

“Together, we are one,” Akira said quietly. “Together…”

Ghost held his hand and sang when Akira could no longer form the words. “Together we are always one!”

Akira closed his eyes, thinking of his Yui and Takeshi.

Now he could be with them again. In the place he dreamed of, surrounded by a forest with a view of the mountains. The war was over, and with it, the final chapter of his story in the Warrior Codex.

It was time for peace now.

— Epilogue —

The black corvette rose away from the Shackleton Crater carrying one thousand passengers. A hologram of the new Lunar Chief Councilor, a man named Keanu Cotter, fizzled to life in their cabins of the shuttle.

“To the first refugees that have decided to return home, please know the LDC supports you,” Keanu said. “We will never go back to the past where we were divided. The future can only be strong with our alliance.”

Ronin couldn’t believe it, but he was one of those refugees. Along with his mother and twin brother. They sat next to him now, preparing to head home.

“We wish you the best, and for those that served in the war against the machines, you have our gratitude,” Keanu said.

Lise smiled warmly at Ronin and patted his arm.

She was proud of him, but more than that, she was glad he was alive.

The message continued, but it was interrupted by a shout.

“There they are!”

Ronin leaned next to Lise and Elan to look out the starboard viewports. It wasn’t hard to see the skyscraper-sized superstructures that had landed along the crater rim weeks before.

The towers of metal remained where they were, their vents still open from disgorging thousands of Canebrakes. Those war droids had stormed the LDC positions in outposts around the craters before making their way into the colonies.

Ronin had been hunkered down in an outpost bordering Kepler Station with Bradley and Zlaner when the machines suddenly went offline, crashing to the dust where they stood.

Liberation Day, the LDC had called it.

A joyful day second only to today: homecoming.

Elan kept focused on the mammoth machines meant to enslave the million survivors on the moon. Or to kill them.

Those are huge, Elan signed.

Ronin nodded. They hadn’t signed much about what happened when the machines entered Mesopotamia, but Lise told Ronin his brother was part of a security team that was nearly slaughtered during the first day of occupation.

Only Elan and a few troopers had escaped.

If the signal from Earth hadn’t shut the machines down when it did, Ronin wouldn’t be sitting with his brother now.

“Can you believe we’re going home?” Lise asked. She signed it too, and Elan shook his head.

Seems like a dream, he replied.

Ronin smiled. He had pictured this moment, but never thought it would be possible.

They were together again. Alive and together.

Truly a miracle.

Not exactly a miracle, Ronin thought.

They were alive thanks to Akira, Tadhg, and all of the heroes on Earth.

Ronin still didn’t know exactly what happened in the final battle, only that Akira had lost his life defeating the machines. There was much uncertainty about that day, but Ronin planned on learning the truth and logging it all in the Warrior Codex once they got to their new home.

Another shuttle rose from the Shackleton Crater. There were ten total en route.

But that was it…

Only ten shuttles, accounting for around ten thousand people.

Most of the colonists wanted to stay at Mesopotamia.

Resources were stretched thin on the moon, but those staying behind believed they had a better chance of survival in the darkness of the Shackleton Crater than on Earth. That included people like Bradley and his parents.

Ronin would miss his friend, but he knew he would see Bradley again someday.

It wasn’t just a lack of food and clean water the colonists would face on Earth. Rebuilding would be dangerous, especially with fires continuing to burn without mitigation across the globe. The smoke and debris in the atmosphere would make it difficult to breathe in certain regions.

Some said it might be too late to save Earth. Ronin didn’t believe that.

Earth was resilient. Just like the humans that had stopped the machines. The planet would heal in time.

The shuttle pulled away from the moon, starting the cold flight home. Ronin could see the ball of blue, white, and brown now.

Elan signed, Do you think we will be safe?

Yes, Ronin signed. As long as we are together.

Lise put a hand over each of theirs.

Ronin closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Sometime later, he awoke to an announcement.

“Passengers of Flight 001, we are preparing to enter Earth’s atmosphere. Please make sure you are buckled in just in case we experience some minor turbulence.”

The pilots decreased the speed as they approached Earth. Outside, the view of the stars transformed to the shelf of clouds.

The hull shook as they rocketed toward them.

A warning light turned on, and several people cried out in panic.

For Ronin, this was nothing.

He reassured his mom and brother as the shuttle continued to shake.

It was over a few minutes later. The ship broke through the cloud cover. Over sixty days after E-Day, the sun was finally breaking through the thick smoke that had clogged the atmosphere.

The view changed again as the shuttle dipped over the Atlantic Ocean. The beautiful blue stretched across the horizon for as far as Ronin could see.

The PA system surged with a message.

“All crew and passengers, prepare for landing,” said the primary pilot.

They banked over the water, and Ronin saw their destination: Megacity Boston.

Half of the skyline remained, though it was broken and crumbling.

The pilots flew in a large circle around the city as they waited for permission to land, passing over the crater at the center of the city.

Entire city blocks were reduced to rubble. Blackened roadways snaked across the landscape, littered with abandoned vehicles.

From the sky, it seemed there was nothing but destruction down there.

Endless burned forests stretched across the horizon around the outskirts of the ruined city, the trees white and black like bones.

But among the black, brown, and sea of rusting metal, Ronin saw life as they descended toward a port along the Eastern Seaboard.

A beacon of bright lights shone near the water’s edge.

The pilots switched on the vertical thrusters, hovering for a moment before slowly lowering toward the enclave of yellows, greens, and blues.

The spacecraft set down with a jolt on a runway. After a few minutes of waiting, the passengers were given the all clear to get up.

“Welcome home,” said the captain.

Cheers and shouts echoed through the cabin.

Ronin hugged his mom and Elan again before they grabbed their bags. They didn’t have much—just a single personal bag each.

Stepping into the aisle, Ronin slowly followed the passengers, his heart pounding with anticipation. When he finally got to the ramp, he saw a sprawling camp across the runway. In the distance, the blue water sparkled in the sunlight.

Ronin walked down the stairs, taking in a breath that made him cough.

“You’ll get used to it,” said a Piston waiting on the tarmac. “We’ve got masks for you all. This way, everyone.”

The soldier guided them toward a convoy of military trucks waiting to take the refugees to the base. Soldiers waited behind the vehicles, handing out breathing masks to each person that stepped up.

Ronin took one, fastened it over his face, then reached out to help Lise and Elan into the back of the truck. They sat along the benches, settling in for the ride.

The Piston shut the gate with a clank.

A moment later, their truck drove away from the runway, following the convoy toward the shore. The road followed a massive metal fence on the left side of the road. Guard towers looked out every quarter mile.

Pistons patrolled on the other side of the fences with pulse rifles, and drones flew across the sky.

A MOTH prepared to touch down at the base, with two more taking off and heading toward Megacity Boston.

Ronin wasn’t the only one that noticed the beefed-up forces. A man raised his hand.

“Hey,” he said. “Sir, I have a question.”

The Piston at the back of the truck looked at him.

“Are there still machines out there?” the man asked.

“Nah.” The Piston shook his head. “The security here isn’t for machines, although we’re being cautious just in case.”

People, Ronin realized.

“Dreads,” the Piston clarified. “Fighters that were loyal to the machines. Some don’t want to join us. But don’t worry. You all will be safe here.”

Lise shot Ronin a look filled with worry.

“It’ll be fine,” he said.

He signed to Elan what the Piston had said. Elan didn’t seem too alarmed either.

The convoy sped toward the southern tip of Megacity Boston. Ronin still didn’t know where exactly his family would be living or what this new base was called.

“Look at that,” said a woman. She pointed to a massive mountain of metal from all the dead Canebrakes and other droids that had been rounded up.

“We’ve cleared most of them out,” said the Piston.

A few minutes later, the truck slowed and passed through an open gate. A flag blew in the wind above the gate.

This wasn’t the Nova Alliance flag. This flag was forest green with two swords crossing a large boulder. Hanging from the gate was a large white sign that read: New Plymouth.

The convoy entered a walled-off area that looked maybe four or five city blocks in size.

“New Plymouth,” Lise said. “Like Plymouth Rock?”

“I think so,” Ronin said. He remembered the story of the Mayflower and the pilgrims that came to Plymouth Rock to start new lives.

On the left side of the road, a former park had been turned into a camp filled with hundreds of tents.

The first city block appeared mostly spared from destruction. Construction crews of human workers carried materials and supplies. It was an odd sight, like something out of a history book.

The truck stopped at the end of the road where a group of soldiers and volunteers in green uniforms waited. Each had a patch with the two swords crossing a rock just under their collar.

“Everyone out,” said the Piston. “This is where you will be processed.”

Ronin got down with his family.

Trucks rushed by, carrying supplies and crates in the back. An APC followed them with a Piston looking down at them from a turret.

Hundreds of refugees worked to get into an orderly line with the help of the soldiers and staff waiting in the street. A woman used a megaphone to bark instructions as they were directed toward a warehouse with tables that displayed single letters on each.

“Find the letter of your last name for your IDs and housing assignments,” she ordered.

Ronin went to H and waited.

It didn’t take long. The IDs with their pictures were ready to go. A friendly young staffer gave them a map and showed them where their tent was located.

“Head to the arena next for your introduction to New Plymouth,” he said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Lise said.

She took Ronin and Elan by the hand as they left the warehouse and headed with the crowd down the street. The arena was only two blocks away. They passed more buildings on the way, including a hospital, bakery, and school.

The base was smaller than Ronin had imagined, but fairly well-organized.

The refugees slowly made their way into the open arena. Over the next hour, ten thousand newcomers settled into the seats.

A stage was centered in the field below. On it, a seven or eight-foot-tall object was covered by a black curtain.

As soon as the refugees had taken their seats, a group of soldiers marched out from a connecting tunnel onto the field.

Judging by their sheer size and power armor, these were Engines.

“Tadhg,” Ronin whispered.

“He’s going to be surprised to see us,” Lise said.

Tadhg didn’t know that Ronin and his family were coming.

Two women and a man, all wearing the same green uniforms, followed the augmented soldiers across the field to the stage.

Ghost moved over to a mic. He fidgeted with the archaic device, trying to raise it high enough to reach his mouth. The speakers throughout the stadium crackled.

“Welcome to New Plymouth. I’m Lieutenant Shane “Ghost” Rossi with Shadow Squad. These are my comrades, Sergeant Tadhg Walsh, Sergeant Maria “Frost” De Leon, and Lieutenant Andy Jackson. We are joined by our friends, Chloe, Juno, and Cyrus, all pivotal players that helped us defeat the machines.”

He motioned for a woman with braided hair.

She stepped up by his side, and he repositioned the mic for her.

“My name is Juno Brambilla. I was a researcher with the resistance that helped form the plan that made today possible. Today, we aren’t just welcoming you to your new home, but we’re thanking those that made it possible, starting with a man many of you know.”

Frost and Tadhg pulled the sheets away from the object behind them, revealing an armored sculpture of an Engine.

“That’s your uncle,” Lise said.

Elan signed, Akira.

The Engine stood with his two katanas drawn and kabuto facing the sky.

“Captain Akira Hayashi, like many soldiers, gave his life for humanity on the night we defeated the machines,” Juno said. “All so that we could rebuild a new world.”

She held out her arms.

“That world starts here, with all of you.”

Applause broke out. It soon died down, replaced by murmurs and whispers.

“Hey, over there,” someone said.

Ronin turned to see a droid horse striding out of the same tunnel the Engines had used to access the field. A gray wolfdog was right behind him with a young boy by his side.

“Is that Kichiro and Okami?” Lise asked.

“I think so,” Ronin said.

A man and a teenaged girl, probably Ronin’s age, followed the droids and boy. Next came two Coalition soldiers, both dressed in their bulky armor and antlered helmets. One had two tusks attached to his chin guard.

Behind them, a pair of Hummer Worker units strode out with them.

“I thought they destroyed all droids on E-Day,” said a man behind Ronin.

“The hell are those doing down there?” a woman said with anger in her tone.

Ronin was glad to see Kichiro and Okami, but he too was confused. The LDC said the signal knocked out all enemy droids.

Enemy… Ronin thought.

Ghost raised a hand as the clamor in the audience grew.

“These were Captain Hayashi’s animal companion droids,” he said. “They have been repaired and Okami has been given to Dao, my friend here, who Captain Hayashi saved and took under his care.”

The kid shied away behind Juno when Ghost gestured to Dao.

“I know many of you are still worried about the threat of the machines,” Juno said, “but the few droids that remain are friendly. We’ll need droids, like Blinky and Fisher here, to help rebuild.”

She indicated to the unit on her left.

“Big friendly, big friendly,” said Blinky.

“Don’t be assholes,” Fish called out.

The man Ghost had called Kobe, kicked the droid in the shin.

It raised a hand, waving to the crowd. “I mean to say: I am here to serve you, friends.”

Ronin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“To further ease your concerns, we are going to play a recording from Apeiron that was recorded a few weeks ago.”

The thin figure of a hologram appeared on the platform. Ronin remembered her familiar dimpled smile.

“AI is no longer salvation,” Apeiron said. “Doctor Jason Crichton programmed me to help save humanity. But in my attempt to do that, I almost doomed your species. For that, I am eternally sorry.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“In the end, you became your own salvation. New Plymouth is an experiment in a way, a fresh start for old enemies that have become friends and allies. You see, war brought the Nova Alliance and the Coalition together, hence our new flag.”

Two Pistons on the field hoisted a larger version of the flag up on a pole. Ronin could see details of the swords better now. One was a Coalition cutlass. The other was a Piston’s energy blade.

“I have faith you will learn to live in peace and build a better world, together,” Apeiron said. “I wish I could stay with you, but I believe it’s better for you to face this journey on your own, to do what I know you’re all capable of doing in harmony. Something Jason Crichton believed as well.”

She raised a hand.

“We leave the future to you, to humanity. Now it’s my turn to join my creator, and brother, Doctor Jason Crichton, in the stars. I will always be there, watching you with hope in my heart.”

Apeiron fizzled away.

Ronin couldn’t help but feel bad for her and her brother. He believed in his own heart that neither of them had ever tried to do anything but help the human species.

Juno stepped forward again. “We’re glad you have decided to be part of this future at New Plymouth. Never forget, we aren’t alone here. Along with allies across the globe, we have allies on the moon.”

A few more speakers went on to talk and introduce the refugees to their new home. When they finished, Ghost thanked them and looked up at the crowd.

“Before we part today, let’s all take a moment to think of those we have lost,” he said. “We live on with their memories in our hearts.”

Ronin bowed his head, thinking of Zachary, Kai, and Akira.

He knew that they would want his family to keep going on.

After a few moments of pause, Ghost saluted the statue of Akira and then began to depart the stage with the rest of the group. Most of the crowd streamed out of the arena, but Ronin and his family made their way down to the field.

“Tadhg!” Ronin yelled.

The Engine turned back toward him, his robotic arms outstretched.

“Ronin!” he yelled back.

They embraced in a long hug, and then Tadhg introduced them all to Juno, Chloe, Cyrus, Kobe, Hina, Dao, Colonel Boar, and the droids. It was a lot to take in, but Ronin was excited to hear more about each of them.

“You all have quite the stories, I’m sure,” he said.

“Thank you for everything you did,” Lise said. “We’re going to miss Akira greatly. I still can’t believe he’s gone…”

She lowered her head in sadness, but then looked up to Chloe.

“If it weren’t for Akira, I would never have finished uploading the virus,” she said. “I would be dead, and so would Cyrus.”

Cyrus nodded. “He saved us both.”

“Akira saved me, Hina, and the rest of our people from Megacity Tokyo too,” Kobe said. “He risked his life against overwhelming odds to get us the hell out of enemy territory.”

“He rescued me off an island from Iron Wolves,” Dao said.

“My people too,” said Colonel Boar.

“He saved us all,” Juno said.

Ronin felt a tear forming in his eye as he thought of Akira, Kai, and Zachary. Okami must have sensed his sadness. The droid nudged his leg, wagging his furry tail.

Bending down, Ronin hugged the furry droid. His soft, synthetic coat seemed brand new.

“Okami is my best friend,” Dao said. “Akira was my friend too.”

“He was a great man,” Ronin said. He stood, unslung his bag, and pulled out the Warrior Codex. After brushing off the cover, he extended it out toward the Engines.

“I thought you might want this to write about everything that happened,” Ronin said. “How my uncle fought and…”

Ronin swallowed, not meaning to focus on his death.

“How my uncle saved us all and led us to victory,” he corrected himself.

Ghost brushed a strand of hair from his eyes and then reached for the book. He opened it carefully, flicked through a couple pages, then handed it back to Ronin.

“We could write about it,” Ghost said. “But you’re family. You should be the one to write the end of his story.”

“And add your own stories,” Frost said. “You’ll carry on the Hayashi legacy.”

“It’s your book now,” Tadhg agreed.

He grinned and put a robotic arm around Ronin. They turned to look at the statue of Akira with Kichiro and Okami by their sides.

“AI was never salvation,” Tadhg said. “It was always Akira the Brave.”

End of Book 3

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading the E-Day series, I hope you enjoyed each book. While this is the planned ending of the series for now, I never completely close the door on a storyline. If you would like to read more, please let me know in an honest review on Amazon. Reviews only need to be a sentence or two.

Interested in other NSS books? You can find a full list at my website below. Feel free to sign-up for my newsletter to access new releases, and to enter exclusive giveaways for subscribers!

www.Nicholassansburysmith.com

All the best,

Nicholas

About the Author

Nicholas Sansbury Smith is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Hell Divers series, the Orbs series, the Trackers series, the Extinction Cycle series, the Sons of war Series, and the new E-Day Series. He worked for Iowa Homeland Security and Emergency Management in disaster mitigation before switching careers to focus on storytelling. When he isn’t writing or daydreaming about the apocalypse, he enjoys running, biking, spending time with his family, and traveling the world. He is an Ironman triathlete and lives in Iowa with his wife, daughter, and their dogs.