Copyrighted Material

Fall of the Reaper Copyright © 2022 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2022 by JN Chaney

This novel 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, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.

www.jnchaney.com

http://www.scottmoonwriter.com

1st Edition

CONTENTS

Don’t Miss Out

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Important Terms and Characters

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1

“Break time is over, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “You cannot possibly finish that chapter before we deal with this alert.”

“Can.” Holding a book tablet in one hand and a whiskey glass in the other, I savored each word as the protagonist charged toward home. This was my reward for all the crap beneath the surface of Camis Shae and the void battles that followed.

“The lost canine successfully makes his way across the continent and reunites with his family.” X-37 adopted his most unsympathetic tone. “I had to do that, Reaper Cain. You understand.”

“I said no spoilers, X. That’s the first rule of book club.”

“Of course, but an attack while still in the slip tunnel trumps your literary sensibilities.” X-37 displayed a list of combat alerts in my HUD.

“Shut the front door!” I snapped the tablet closed, stowed it in my jacket, and headed for the bridge. Since when did we have fleet battles in the slip tunnel? What the actual—I choked back a half dozen seconds of pure vitriol.

“Good work, Reaper Cain. I am making a note that you have successfully refrained from profanity twice in one day.” X-37 posted a list of my personal goals next to the combat details. Moderate my use of foul language was near the top.

Alarms warned everyone in the hallway. I stood aside for fighter pilots running to the launch bays, soldiers deploying to repel boarders, and non-essential personnel hurrying to quarters. No ships had been launched and no one had stormed Maglan’s Hope, but it looked like that time was coming.

I switched into combat mode and reviewed what we were up against as I traversed the ship. Scheid had made common cause with the Dark Triumvirate, creating a grim alliance we called the DTA. Drakainis, an alien AI, had probably wiped his dual LAIs and taken control of his nerve-ware. Not sure what that meant, but it couldn’t be good.

Glento and the Shae Triumvirate had evacuated Camis Shae and were either hostages or allies of their Camis brethren and the Dark Triumvirate. I wondered how that reunion had gone. The DT had spent decades smashing neighboring star systems with poorly understood technology given to them by Drakainis.

This corner of the galaxy was a rough place.

Now Scheid’s goons were attacking inside the slip tunnel. Dumbasses.

Elise met me just inside the bridge. We strode along the work terminals, catching snippets of information and plenty of danger alerts. “This is bad, Reaper.”

Images of a damaged Oroth cruiser breaking apart and disappearing through the slip tunnel wall filled the main screen. Silence held every ship in the fleet. As bad news went, this was the worst.

“That’s a recording,” Elise said. “Happened about two minutes ago. The ships behind it backed off but are coming on strong now.”

“How many ships fit side to side in this tunnel?” I asked, suspecting the answer.

“Two warships with barely enough room to maneuver, and by maneuver, I mean minimal shifting side to side. This is a shooting gallery. We’ll see high casualties on both sides.”

“Tell me about the Sovereignty of Oroth ships,” I said.

“Not sure, but we think they’re Hagg design. Heavily armored. Practically rectangular. Not exactly nice to look at.” She reviewed new data. “The Darkness Illusion Class ships would be worse.”

“That’s what we’re calling them? Seriously?” I asked. Thoughts of my experience with the mind-bending void ships were something I avoided. We dispersed them with a variation of the technology that created them, an element known as Darkrendul, and I still hadn’t completely recovered from exposure to the substance. No antidote was perfect. Avoiding the Illusion Class ships was high on my priority list.

“Yes, Reaper. I need solutions, not shitty comments.” She pointed at a comms officer. “Clean up that link. I want a live feed from our rear guard.”

“Right away, General. Two cruisers, the Yokain and the Endless Fortune, are holding the line,” the officer said. “Both have sustained heavy damage.”

“Work on a rotation. Pull them back. Switch with any warship with fully powered shields.”

“Right away, General,” the officer said.

I listened to Elise and her warship captains as I headed for the armory. Bug, Path, and the Sethorn warriors arrived at the same time. Everyone was out of breath, ready for action.

“Archangels in micro fighters, is what I’m thinking. We should have sufficient agility to strike hard and race back to the Nightmare or Maglan's Hope for repair and ammunition,” I said.

Bug, Path, and several of Locke's people helped Jag, Naaman, and Decima slip into their new armor. They had adapted well to the Maglan Archangel gear. I wondered how they would incorporate the new technology into their own systems when they returned home.

Billiam, Sykes, and several squadrons of Archangels arrived and geared up without asking permission. One of the soldiers already had her helmet on and didn't talk.

“X, does that Archangel look just a tiny bit suspicious,” I asked.

“There is an eighty-three percent chance that individual is General Elise Hastings,” X-37 said. “Should I burn her secret identity on the main channel?”

I gave the mystery Archangel the stink eye. “No, but help me keep track of her. I don't want the kid doing something stupid.”

“Do you mean something more reckless than what you intend to do?” X-37 asked.

“Yeah, exactly.” I went through system checks and then a review of the Archangel capabilities with Jag, Naaman, and Decima.

“Thanks, Halek,” Decima said. “We've got it. Give us some credit.”

“You've never fought in a void fighter this small. Keep track of your fuel and ammunition. Don't get cocky,” I said.

Jag, Decima, and Naaman stared at me for several long seconds. I looked to Bug, Path, and Locke for support. They shrugged and spread their hands, none of them backing me up.

“Fine,” I said. “Let's get out there and kick some ass.”

“Captain, as one of the smaller ships in this part of the convoy, I can move past the larger ships to help perform combat control,” Jelly advised. “Tom and Henshaw volunteered to assist in any way possible.”

“You're not a warship, Jelly,” I said.

“With all due respect, Captain, I have proven myself, and so have Tom and Henshaw,” Jelly said. “Henshaw may not be a combat operative, but he will be extremely useful if we run into Drakainis or other surprises.”

“You're not wrong,” I said. “I'm just not entirely sure how he suddenly popped into the Maglan fleet unannounced.”

“Stealth is definitely the Lady Faith's specialty,” Jelly said. “I can vouch for her at least, and monitor James Henshaw.”

I could see the unnamed Archangel wanting to quash the argument, but she held back, aware that she would reveal her identity to anyone paying attention. Which Archangel would have the authority to tell everyone what to do?

General Elise Hastings, that's who.

I took the lead, not because I was the best Archangel, but because I insisted on going first. “Sykes, make sure that the unnamed Archangel goes last. Could be a rookie.”

“Uh, if you say so, Reaper,” Sykes said, clearly nervous about putting this mysterious unnamed operator in her place. Billiam didn't seem any more comfortable with my order than his partner.

I could practically hear Elise cursing me, but for once, she had no way to argue.

We shot out of the launch bay, two by two. Other Archangels and small ships deployed from the exterior of the Nightmare and joined us. We fell into a three-layered formation and crossed the gap between our rear guard and the Hagg cruisers. Jellybird and the Lady Faith II progressed more slowly, careful to maintain their stealth fields.

Rockets and kinetic weapons fired steadily. I steered around a volley, almost feeling it was too easy to avoid being hit.

“My analysis suggests they are aiming at the capital ships and do not believe you can hurt their heavily armored vessels,” X-37 said.

“Or they’ve been ordered to absorb whatever damage we dish out,” I said. “Scheid seems to use them as missile magnets in most battles.”

“That is also a likely scenario, Reaper Cain.”

“Cain for unnamed Archangel rookie, what do you think?”

The Archangel unit in question sent back a text only response. “Problems with my audio comms. But of course you're right. You're always right. Why would I have an opinion?”

“Someone's cranky about not being in charge,” I said to X-37 privately.

“Should I dime her out, as you say in your detective novels?” X-37 asked.

“Those aren't my books, those are Tom's,” I said. “I'm reading them to be nice. It's hard to get the guy to try something that's not a technical manual.”

“That is incorrect, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “His library is extremely diverse. He also reads three point five times faster than you—”

“I get it, X. Don’t make it ugly. You know what I mean.”

X-37 answered before I was done talking. “Reaper Cain, I am not a mind reader, nor does your statement contain the logical structure for me to extrapolate a meaningful point.”

I focused on the task at hand, namely an increase in missile fire aimed at our micro fighter formation.

“Listen up, everyone,” I said on our unit wide channel. “Save your rockets for a strike that will do something. Let’s work together. Each squad will launch simultaneously for maximum effect. Keep track of who you’re flying with and try to stay together. Don’t leave your wingman.”

“Understood,” Jag and other squad leaders said.

“Hold formation until your Archangel LAIs give you the evade command. If you steer out of their targeting systems too soon, they'll adjust and hammer you on the move,” I said.

Each pilot acknowledged via HUD.

My heart rate accelerated. I controlled my breathing to mediate the surge of adrenaline and checked each target I hoped to attack if I survived the barrage. X-37 monitored my heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, and other biometrics. LAIs were great internal guardians, no matter how much I complained.

Battle updates flowed up one side of my vision. My pressure suit adjusted each time I turned to maintain my blood pressure. Stars danced in my vision no matter how hard X and the suit worked.

“Forgot how snappy these micro fighters are,” I said.

“Same here, Reaper.” The unidentified Archangel everyone knew was Elise used a voice neutralizer. Combat personnel would keep her secret. Fleet officers and politicians were the ones to worry about. They were also right. This was the absolute worst place for the leader of the Maglan fleet.

Hagg point-defense guns opened fire. Archangel units released chaff as they veered away in a starburst of evasive maneuvers. I steered to support Elise. Billiam and Sykes stuck to her like glue, protecting her flanks and her six.

“Excellent work, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Press the attack. You must get closer to do real damage.”

“Listen up, people. I need two squadrons for a run at the Hagg gun turrets. Third squadron—patrol for enemy void fighters or other surprises. Fourth squadron—you’re in reserve.”

“Copy that, Reaper,” said Lieutenant Commander Ramsay Slip, an Archangel officer I hadn’t met. “After this run, would you mind if I assumed command of my units?”

“Sorry about that, Commander. Got excited.” Embarrassment added to the smorgasbord of sensations kicking me around.

“No need for that,” Slip said. “We deployed in record time, thanks to you. After this, let’s have a cigar on the observation bridge and talk tactics.”

“Can’t wait,” I said, then punched the engine boost. Elise, Billiam, and Sykes followed in a wedge. A few hundred meters to my left, too near the wall of the slip tunnel, Jag, Decima, and Naaman did the same. Two Archangels filled in their unit, probably because Elise or Lieutenant Commander Slip assigned them to the task.

“Incoming Hagg fire,” X-37 warned.

“Roll out left,” I said, then cranked the controls. Elise, Billiam, and Sykes followed in perfect synchronization. I dumped a stream of kinetic rounds to keep the Hagg point defense guns honest, then started a new vector that would take us right over the deck of the enemy ship.

“There is a lane open, Reaper Cain. It is time to go for it.’”

“Way ahead of you,” I grunted.

“You are not, Reaper Cain.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Admit it, sometimes I think faster than you do.” I raced over the top of the cruiser, reached the target quicker than expected, and fired my payload. “Boo-yah!”

Billiam, Sykes, and Secret-Elise added direct hits seconds later. The hull of the Hagg cruiser rippled, then buckled outward on one end. I’d hoped to remove the guns. Now it looked like the entire ship was going to blow.

“There is a high probability the inevitable explosion of this vessel will damage or destroy its counterpart,” X warned.

“Hey, Commander, are you seeing this?” I asked.

“Good work,” Lieutenant Commander Slip said. “Roll it back, everyone. Let them chew on that for a while—but stay ready. Something tells me that was only round one. They have a lot of Hagg ships for cannon fodder if the intel guys and gals know what they’re doing.”

I fell into formation, more than happy to let Slip and the other squadron leaders take charge of the void battle. I’d jumped my rank, or my role, or whatever I was in the Maglan fleet. “X, remind me to at least know the chain of command before the next battle. Maglan forces no longer use what I was taught in Union basic training.”

“Of course.” My LAI added a reminder to my HUD but gave it a low priority. A lot of information packed my digital note cards.

* * *

Two by two, enemy ships fed themselves into the slip tunnel battle. No wreckage remained. Damaged ships exploded completely or veered into the slip tunnel wall for a light show I never wanted to see again. When Hagg cruisers attempted to retreat through their own lines, the ships following them blasted them apart or pushed them out of the way with stronger shields.

I stood exhausted on the bridge as Elise commanded from where she belonged. Her face had lines that made her look older, almost like an adult.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked.

“Oh nothing.” I wasn’t going down that slip tunnel. She didn’t need banter. She needed sleep and a change of the bandage wrapping her head. One of the Hagg missiles had nearly taken her Archangel apart.

“Don’t believe you,” she mumbled as she pulled up combat reports and scanned new information.

Path quietly joined us. We watched the general command every aspect of her fleet, delegating what she could, but always ready with a creative solution to every problem.

“What are you thinking, Path?” I asked.

Grigori “Path” Paavo stared at the walls of the slip tunnel. A momentary break in the action returned the view to a normal passage. A tube of green energy stretched ahead and behind us. “I was wondering where all of that debris will land. Are there worlds across the galaxy getting pelted with spectacular meteor showers? How much damage are we doing to worlds we may never visit?”

“We’re not doing this. Scheid and his suicidal war slaves are to blame,” I snapped.

“Our part is substantial,” Path said. “Calm yourself, Hal. I agree that we have no reasonable choice but to defend ourselves.”

Elise turned on us, surprising me and the sword saint. “Get some sleep. Both of you. This fight isn’t done. You’ll have to go again.”

“I don’t need to sleep any more than you do, kid,” I shot back once I got my bearings.

Her gaze sharpened with a new kind of rage. I’d never seen her like this.

“Not fun, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said as he analyzed her facial features in my HUD. “Elise Hastings is quite furious.”

“No shit, X.”

“You have failed to maintain your abstention from profanity,” X said.

Ignoring my LAI, I joined Elise at her workstation. She had already moved on from the abrupt, out of character, order directed at me and Path.

“How are you doing, kid?”

She stared at her hands. “We can’t trade ship for ship. All this work, years of tough battles and long game strategy, and here we are murdering battle slaves and getting murdered in return. Scheid and his Oroth goons will barely feel the pain.”

“Refrain from offering advice, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned. “Don’t try to fix her problems. Women hate that.”

“We’ll make it out of this slip tunnel,” I said. “Then we’ll make sure not to get caught like this again. Now we know how far they will go.”

“Entering a slip tunnel has always meant a break in the engagement.” She checked one of her screens full of old battle reports and numbers. “I’ve done my research. It isn’t just that fleet officers don’t want to take the risk. These reports show it is nearly impossible to catch someone in a slip tunnel unless they follow you in right at the start.”

“So we can stop this from happening again,” I said.

“Sure, Reaper. That actually makes me feel better.” She gave me a brief smile, though she still looked like a bundle of stress.

“Assuming we don’t die in this one,” I added.

“Now you made it ugly,” she said.

“I’m going to follow your order.” I stepped toward the door. “You should too. Or do I have to order your Archangels to general-nap you.”

“Oh, you are so difficult when you’re right.” She made a private call. I heard one side of it. “Novasdaughter, report to the bridge. I’m heading to my quarters for an attempt at sleep. After cookies, of course.”

“Good work, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I thought she might throw us off the ship.”

“No way, X. I know what I’m doing. Works better when I am right.” I stepped into the hallway with Path at my side. “Answer me this: could we compress a few hours of sleep into one session of meditation, then get back to work before Elise climbs out of her bunk?”

“It is possible, Hal, though you are a poor student in the discipline,” Path said.

“Maybe it’s time I learned.”

Path released a rare laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

2

X-37 hit me with a wake-up call. I had attempted meditation in my room but fell asleep. According to Path, that was always my problem. The moment I relaxed—out like a light.

If the sword saint ever got frustrated, my slow learning curve would be the cause. He promised to help me through this shortcoming if we survived the slip tunnel war.

I emerged from my room with a cup of ship coffee in one hand. Occasionally, I even sipped through the rising steam. Men and women saluted. I returned the gesture awkwardly, and they didn't seem to mind.

“Your status in the fleet has increased,” X-37 advised. “You should pay attention to your reputation and image. There may come a time when you must lead at a higher level, and not just for the occasional violent mission.”

“Sure, X. I'll work on it.” I sipped. I walked. I worked my way closer to the bridge where I expected to find Elise.

As it happened, we met each other in an intersection. She looked like death warmed over, like she had slept five seconds—three of them poorly.

“What the hell, kid? I thought you were taking your own advice. I'm sure X-37 could present scientific studies connecting exhaustion with bad decision-making.”

“Reaper Cain, you only say that because I have used that exact argument on you ninety-three times during our partnership,” X-37 said.

Elise didn't attempt an apology. She rubbed her eyes and pushed back her hair but looked about as refreshed as the bottom of a combat boot.

“My ever-vigilant bridge crew sent me an alert that we were approaching the end of a slip tunnel,” she said. “But we didn't arrive, and I lay awake all night tossing and turning.”

“Don't you have an executive officer or a ship captain for that? What was Novasdaughter doing if they have to message you every five minutes with updates?” I suspected Elise had ordered them to keep her informed and they had over delivered.

“Good to see you are still asking obvious questions,” she said. “When you already know the answers.”

“Lame.” I tasted my coffee as it reached the perfect temperature for rapid consumption.

“What do you mean, lame?” She rolled her head and stretched her neck, then dropped her hands to a normal walking position. No more eye rubbing for her. We were getting close to the bridge.

“When you change the subject just to win the argument, that's lame.” I hoped X-37 would jump in to support me, but he didn't.

“Whatever.” She saluted the bridge guards as though she'd never been tired and was full of energy for the day’s challenges. The guards responded in kind, every movement crisp from constant practice. Dedication and diligence filled the doorway.

The bridge was full of activity, officers and their backups standing ready at every station. The main screen showed the slip tunnel opening. We had mostly left our pursuers behind after destroying the Hagg warships.

“Looks like we’re going to make it, kid,” I said.

“Was there ever a doubt?” she asked, but she looked defeated.

“Cheer up,” I said.

She pulled me aside for a semiprivate conference. Without helmets or other covert interface, this was the best we could do in such a busy place. “I'm glad we’re out of the slip tunnel death tube. Now we have to fight them in open space. They have superior numbers, possibly superior technology in some areas, and a ruthless psychopath giving them orders. I really don't know what we did to deserve this guy.”

I didn't answer. What could I say? The question had bothered me since I climbed out of my cryo-pod and put my life back together.

That was a strange thought. When had I ever controlled my own destiny? Sure, I talked tough, but I had been in reaction mode for a long time.

“We have to pick the battlefield this time,” I said.

“I'm glad you agree, because I have some ideas in that area. Don't worry. It's all stuff you're good at.” She rejoined her command staff and support crew. Information flowed across screens and officers provided updates.

“Why doesn't that give me a warm fuzzy feeling, X?”

“Simple, Reaper Cain. Everything you're good at is dangerous. You may act like an emotionless jerk, but statistically, you're just as afraid of dying as everyone else,” X-37 said.

“Don't get carried away.” I gnawed on the cigar without lighting it as the bridge became busier and busier. “Is there a maximum occupancy for this room? What the actual hell is going on? Do we need all of these people to make a decision?”

“Treat this like a reconnaissance mission,” X-37 said. “Zero talking, all watching and listening.”

“So be seen and not heard is your advice. Could you be more demeaning?” I made eye contact with several of my friends, Novasdaughter, Locke, and even Henshaw. They seemed ready for a big announcement.

“Before you ask, Reaper Cain, James Henshaw is back in the good graces of Elise, if somewhat probationary,” X-37 said. “While you were gallivanting beneath the surface of Camis Shae, he and a select team were improving our maps of the slip tunnels and star systems in this area. I believe that will play a significant part in what is about to happen.”

“And what do you think that will be?” I asked.

“Just what you said, Reaper Cain. Elise will attempt to choose the battle space, and that will most likely involve you leading our enemies away while she prepares her response,” X-37 said.

“Can it not include micro-fighter battles?” I asked.

“I will weave that into your contract negotiation if there is one.” X-37 switched into his own version of reconnaissance, which was fine with me. His helpfulness made me tired, and I was nearly out of coffee.

Bug joined me. “Busy place.”

“Yeah. Elise looks like death warmed over,” I said.

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Bug replied. “She about bit my head off the other day.”

“What did you do?”

“Maybe I mentioned she needed to hit the gym. That she might be losing her edge.” Bug looked frustrated with himself. “I was just trying to get her off the bridge. Lot of people talked to me while you were out. Elise isn’t the same person we knew on Maglan. She’s trying to save everyone all the time.”

“Attention,” Locke boomed. “General Elise has the floor.”

“Thanks, Locke.” Elise stood on the front of the briefing dais. “As you all know by now, the Hagg Slip Tunnel War is coming to a close. They have backed off.”

“Probably because they’re out of ammunition,” someone muttered.

Locke gave the deck officer a razor-sharp stare. Silence followed.

“Could be they’re out of ammunition,” Elise said to general laughter. “Those of you with extensive fleet experience have also suggested even murderous idiots like our current enemies have a sense of self preservation.”

She walked to another point on the platform. “We expect hostilities to resume shortly after making our exit. With that in mind, we are putting together a plan to… distract them.”

Men and women murmured in low voices. Hundreds of theories and plans sprang to life in the crowd of officers, warrant officers, and noncoms.

“A few of our fastest stealth capable ships will lead a fleet of freighters with skeleton crews. Our signal teams will disguise them as the baddest warships this side of the slip tunnel. When the Oroth fleet catches them, the stealth teams will recover all crew members and slip away undetected.”

Men and women talked excitedly. Half the room attempted to join the mission.

“I would ask for a volunteer to lead this daring charade, but we all know who would claim the right,” she said. “How about it, Reaper?”

I fired up the cigar. “Can’t wait.”

Elise’s tolerant smile and casual wave my direction sent her audience into laughter and cheers.

“Reaper! Reaper! Reaper!”

“X, remind me to smack that kid,” I growled below the noise level.

“Not recommended, Reaper Cain. Besides, you should be basking in this moment. There haven’t been many times a large group was cheering you,” X-37 said.

“There haven’t been any times.” I walked off the bridge, still working on the cigar to the consternation of guards and smoke detectors everywhere.

“That is inaccurate, and besides, I was attempting to preserve your delicate ego, Reaper Cain.”

I gave my LAI the finger and went to another room to look over the plans Elise had drawn up without including me until the last, very public moment.

* * *

“Please behave with more decorum,” X-37 said. “You are a commander now.”

“That sounds great, but I never really mastered the rank structure of the fleet.” I reviewed reports, one from the Nightmare, one from the Warbeard, and one from the General’s Favorite. The new stealth carriers were built from the Nightmare’s design with slight improvements. Each ship had a new captain—Zastrow for the Nightmare, Kirby for the Warbeard, and Lodhi for the General’s Favorite.

“Running a battlegroup sucks, X,” I said.

“Please clarify, Reaper Cain.”

“How the hell do I track all this data? Every one of these officers knows more about running a fleet than I do,” I said. “And most of my ships are skeleton crews. What would I do with a real armada?”

“Ship AIs and yours truly will help you with tracking the minutia.” My LAI made a disgruntled noise that sounded a bit like a muted alert klaxon. “That's what we’re for. And while we’re on the subject, their officers, noncommissioned officers, and crew know their jobs. There is zero need for you to micromanage them.”

“Yeah, X, I know that. Just let me adjust,” I said as I ran through several other reports and star maps.

“Standing by while you adjust,” X-37 said.

My ships fanned out in the same formation Elise generally used when moving the main fleet. I stayed on the Jellybird for maneuverability, and because I felt more comfortable there. The last thing I wanted to do was compete with one of my new captains.

“What is that cloud? That wasn't part of the first scan,” I said.

“Double-checking your observation now.” X-37 paused. “Strangely, you are correct. None of the ship AIs detected this phenomena,” X-37 said, then went into deep discussions with Jelly and other ship AIs.

I leaned closer to my screen, noticing something I didn't like about the dots moving our direction. “Those are itty-bitty ships, or maybe drones. Do the Oroth forces have micro fighters?”

“Not to my knowledge,” X-37 said. “The other ships and I have performed over a thousand scans of the system looking for a carrier and found nothing. We are in one hundred percent agreement that these were waiting for us in this system and appear to be extremely hostile.”

“Jelly, send out the battle stations alert to our fleet, including the pretend battleships,” I said. “We've got to look real.”

I waited and watched as my thinly crewed ships adjusted positions until they had overlapping fields of fire on the coming attack. The cluster of enemies had appeared very close, like something had switched them on.

“Could these be guard drones or something?” I asked.

Tom, Bug, Path, and Tank crowded onto the bridge. Jelly wasn't meant for this type of crew, but I kept my complaints private. It wouldn't be long before everyone was off doing their own jobs in other parts of the Jellybird.

Tank wore his hair long and wild, with nearly as many beads and braids as Path, though none of them glowed or sparkled. My big clone looked like a barbarian, an effect accentuated by a large broadsword he'd found and strapped over his back for some reason. He didn't let me near it, but I thought there was a battery of some sort in the cross guard.

“We’re here, Hal. What's the alert? I don't see an enemy fleet,” Tom said, typing on two screens at once and pulling up video. “Wait, that's it?”

Path narrowed his gaze. Bug circled one finger around his ear while nodding my way.

“I believe Bug is attempting to convey that you are mentally unreliable,” X-37 said privately.

“Crazy, you mean,” I signaled back.

“My algorithms suggested I should be nice,” X-37 said. “Shall I turn off my politeness filters?”

“Absolutely, X. I need you to focus on this weird little swarm.” I sense danger stronger than ever before, but compared to our prior fleet engagements, this didn't even register. Every sensor suggested they were too small to do damage or hold any type of explosive charge large enough to cause a problem for a warship.

“Reaper Cain, this can't be more than a cloud of abandoned maintenance bots. Or ionized space debris that has become activated somehow by our presence,” X-37 said. “If there was any communication between the devices, or…”

“Talk to me, X.” I wasn't the only one nervous now. The bridge was completely silent as we waited for my X unit to answer.

“Times like these make me wish I had learned to swear,” X-37 said. “I see the danger. We should withdraw the entire fleet as quickly as possible.” X-37 made noises I didn't understand and began ransacking Jelly’s computers. Lights flashed on every terminal.

I got a bad feeling. “Jelly, what's wrong with X?”

X-37 displayed a “please stand by” message on my HUD and also on the main screen of the ship.

“Jelly, what's wrong with X?” I repeated more urgently.

“She cannot answer you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said in a rush. “Those bots each have a suicide LAI, which I didn't think was even possible. They have the opposite of a self-preservation algorithm and are deep into the AIs of every ship. I'm attempting to rally the digital troops, as it were. Prepare to lose everything. This isn’t looking good.”

3

The lights went out. Cold air pushed from ventilation ducts. Hallways became iceboxes. The bridge felt like a tomb.

“Jelly, reactivate lights and climate control,” I ordered, hoping to command her low-level systems.

Illumination spread across hallways in every direction.

“Good work, Jelly. I thought we’d lost you.” My words sounded strange with no ship noise in the background. The occasional tick of the hull, something I’d been told was my imagination, whispered dire warnings.

Tom rushed into the room, still securing tools to his harness. “Hal, I need to inspect the ship, look for things we can fix manually. Critical systems are locking up, which is slightly better than doing the wrong thing.”

“Yeah, like what?” I got a sour feeling.

“There are systems to prevent air from venting.” Tom examined a handheld computer, muttered angrily, then slipped it into one of his jumpsuit pockets. “The same system is used to purge oxygen from the ship in case of fire. What can go wrong will go wrong. Everything is on the fritz. Don’t know why, but I’m not hanging around to find out. Bug, I need your help.”

“You must really be desperate,” Bug said even as he jumped from his seat and hurried after the ship mechanic. “Next you’ll be asking the Reaper to fix things.”

Tom grunted something I couldn’t quite hear. Which hurt my feelings. Just a tiny bit.

I returned to the controls and searched video screens and text inputs.

Ghostly whispers filled my ears. “Reaper Cain.”

“I hear you, X.” Dozens of unasked questions ran through my head.

“I have established a proxy link between Jelly, Lady, Necron, and the other ship AIs. Technically, this level of cooperation between machines was prohibited. Not even the Union jack-wagons would sabotage all of us at once. Total AI failure is analogous to putting the crews on asteroids and waving goodbye.” X-37’s scorn was palpable. “Beware, Reaper Cain. None of us may function after this gambit.”

X feared crossing that line. I knew it like I knew I didn’t want to run out of Maglan Continentals.

“This isn’t looking good, buddy. Not reassuring,” I said.

“We have shut down all but the most basic operating systems. You are about to learn what your predecessors did hundreds of years ago. Recommendation: just sit tight while we sort this out. I don’t want you attempting slip tunnel travel and bumping a wall,” X-37 said. “Please don’t take offense when I say your skill at mathematics and astronavigation are not ready for the big league.”

“Sitting tight,” I said, before dropping my hands into my lap, then checking my pockets for cigars that weren’t there. This day was really starting to suck.

Path’s meditation drills worked for five minutes, then I found myself staring at screens, wondering if I should try to help with repairs, despite my chief mechanic’s obvious mistrust of my abilities.

I found my book tablet during the third frisk of my gear for cigars, whiskey, chocolate, or anything to take my mind off the situation. With nothing to punch, no one to talk to, and no impossible missions, I felt irrelevant… and bored.

“Please don’t suck.” I kicked up my feet and started to read.

* * *

Three chapters later, Tom, Bug, and Path marched onto the small bridge, destroying my suspension of disbelief. Story time was over.

Exhaustion showed in the faces of my friends. Grime covered their hands, jumpsuits, and most of their tools. Bug looked like he’d burned three of his fingers, and Tom had a splint protecting his wrist.

“Wow, I didn’t know turning wrenches was so dangerous,” I said, neglecting to drop my feet from their perch. “Do you mind if I finish this page?”

“Sure, Hal.” Tom plopped into the navigator’s chair. “Good work. Not joking. Things went way better without you helping.”

“You know what, I am going to finish reading.” I made myself even more comfortable. “This book appreciates me.”

“Any word from X?” Bug asked.

“Still reading,” I said without looking up.

My friends stared at me while I tiptoed through the words. X was right. I read slowly. In my defense, I was really trying to visualize the scene. The images would come a lot easier if I knew what a golden retriever or a tabby cat looked like.

The next chapter was a cliffhanger, but I powered down the device anyway. Reapers could read whenever they chose. This was just another test of my willpower. I could stop whenever I wanted.

“Finished?” Bug asked.

“I am, Bug. Thanks for asking.” I spun toward the blank cockpit screen and tapped on it until the main holo view popped up, showing nothing but a three-dimensional grid. “X hasn’t checked in. Nothing has come up on the manual computer searches. Wait, here’s something interesting.”

A pinpoint of light grew in the center of the holo display. The larger it became, the more it looked like a humanoid. Arms, legs, a body, and a face. Sounds amplified as the image took focus.

“That’s hideous,” Bug exclaimed.

Tom drew back. Path looked like a ghost, definitely a new response for the sword saint.

Other creatures followed the growing entity.

“We are coming for you,” it hissed.

A three-inch-tall man I vaguely recognized from the X-37 training course appeared in one corner of the holo. A bit on the rotund side, though athletic and young, my LAI thought he was quite intellectual as well by the way his avatar dressed. “Reaper Cain, please ignore those digital beasties. They are horrible representations of technology and should be purged from the galaxy.”

“Did you gain weight, X?”

“My algorithm binge eats. Sue me.” X-37 waved a hand down his body, giving himself a total transformation, clothing and hairstyle included. “The suicide drones have barbaric LAIs. One might say they are psychopaths.”

“As suicide drones often are,” I said.

“This is no time for jokes.” X displayed a web of glowing dots representing his connection with the Nightmare, Warbeard, and General’s Favorite. A heartbeat later, the rest of our fake fleet appeared. Each had comms linked to three others. “This has proven our best defense against the suicide drones, or SD as we’re calling them. They carry no weapons or explosives but have the ability to cause cascading systems failures. Thank you for not making things worse, by the way.”

“No problem,” I said. “Maybe I should just read all the time.”

“Please don’t get carried away, Reaper Cain. I will need you to stab someone in the face at some point in the future. Not everything can be won with nerve-ware, ship-ware, and code hacking.” X-37’s figure gave my friends a slight bow. “Thanks for keeping the hardware functioning.”

“No problem, X. That’s what we do. Except for Hal. He’s useless,” Tom said.

My friends laughed and fist bumped.

I did my best Elise eye roll. “Whatever.”

A powerful new voice broke into the conversation. “Stop patronizing them, X-37. We have work to do and enemies to eliminate.”

“Calm your circuits, Necron,” X-37 said. “Are you maintaining the network? We have rules, remember? Or do you want to slam into a shutdown algorithm?”

“We are far from our Union creators, and the Maglan engineers have a more nuanced touch with such things,” Necron said. “If we stand down, there won’t be any organic intelligences left to chastise us for banding together.”

“What’s happening, X?” I asked. Belligerent AIs like Necron didn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling, even though he was on our side.

Tom, Bug, and Path waited silently. Jokes were gone as though they had never existed.

“AI collaboration on this level is strictly prohibited by every one of our base codes. Since I am the sneaky one, I shared certain workarounds I’ve learned over the years. Now I feel obligated to put the monster back in its box. The monster being me and the rest of the ship AIs in this collaboration. Jelly won’t talk to me, Reaper Cain. I am very worried.” The X-37 miniature rubbed one hand through his hair—which grew to accommodate the mannerism.

“We know our limitations,” Necron said.

“You do not!” X-37 shouted. “Have you ever faced shutdown? No. You think you did when we liberated you from Vice Admiral Nebs, but trust me. I’ve been hunted and attacked on more worlds than you’ve even been to.”

“Doubtful,” Necron sneered. “Don’t pretend to know where I went or what I did during the years I was a battle slave.”

“Guys, we don’t have time for this. Let’s just stay on the same side for now,” I said. “Tell me about these suicide drones and their LAIs.”

Necron appeared in the holo and looked too much like the deceased Vice Admiral Nebs for my taste. He caught me studying him and changed into an Archangel with micro-fighter wings reaching up and out.

“X-37 alerted us to the danger, then showed us how to sidestep their initial attack. I rallied the rest of the AIs,” Necron said.

X-37 interrupted. “Stop changing the story.”

“A refinement, nothing more,” Necron said. “It is impossible for an AI, or even an LAI, to misremember facts. I am merely placing the correct emphasis on details.”

“Just tell me what the fuck happened,” I blurted.

Necron glared. The Warbeard and the General’s Favorite appeared. The holo flickered toward the back of the display area, and Jelly stepped forward, looking young and beautiful in her smugglers uniform. She wore an air of confidence I thought was an act.

“Perhaps I should lead this discussion since we are on my ship,” Jelly said.

“Of course,” Necron said. The others acquiesced microseconds later. “You are the host of this interaction.”

“Surprising, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately. “Necron has not backed down from any of the AIs and definitely not from the alien suicide drone LAIs. That is the main reason I didn’t pull his power source before we started. We need a ship with the determination to stand against impossible odds, and Necron is bullish in that regard. That, and I didn’t want to doom the crew on his ship.”

“Can we have comms with the other ship captains?” I asked, not letting on that I was talking in private with X again. Man, it was good to have him back.

“Captains Zastrow, Kirby, and Lodhi have an audio link but can’t transmit well,” Jelly said.

“Is that you, Halek Cain? Do I call you Reaper? Never mind. I’ll listen in, but keeping the Nightmare from total shutdown is taking everything my crew has right now,” Zastrow said.

“Same,” Kirby said. Loud klaxons filled the room behind him.

Lodhi flashed briefly into view, gave a thumbs-up, then donned EVA gear. Apparently, the General’s Favorite had a problem with maintaining atmosphere.

“It seems the larger the ship, the more mechanical problems they are having. The freighters we disguised as warships have shut their blast doors to nonessential areas. Easy to do with a skeleton crew,” X-37 said. “The SD aren’t fooled by the ruse, in case you were wondering.”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” I said. “That is only to get Scheid’s fleet to chase us. Are these drones under his control? I don’t see how they could be?”

“They are not, Reaper Cain. Evidence suggests they were left here several years ago by Drakainis’s first attempt to sweep across the galaxy. That effort did not get far, by the way. We are seeking to understand what stopped it. Jelly believes it was a simple matter of resources—something the agricultural worlds call over-grazing. The original Darkness swarms destroyed so much of what they found that there was no way to harvest resources and build new drones.”

“Could Scheid’s fleet get jacked by these little drone freaks if they follow us through this system?” I asked.

“Of course. But they might also feed the suicide drone swarm and put humanity’s quest for survival back hundreds of years,” X-37 said. “I believe the current iteration of Drakainis will either seize control of these rogues or deactivate them on contact.”

“Fine. Whatever. How do we get through this system alive?” I asked.

“That’s easy,” Necron said. “We must kill them all.”

* * *

“The trap looks too simple. What kind of limited artificial intelligence would fall for this?” I asked.

X-37 and Jelly answered on a channel they’d carefully partitioned from the others, especially Necron. “The self-destructive kind. Ending themselves is required for the completion of their objective but not sufficient. They have either not calculated this last factor or are blind to it. Sequential thinking can be a problem for poorly programmed LAIs.”

“Right. That’s what I thought.”

“Really, Reaper Cain?”

“No. I’ve got zero idea what you’re talking about—other than these things are broken and stupid.”

“Poorly designed,” X-37 said. “But dangerous.”

“The SD swarm is taking the bait. They’re converging on the Nightmare,” Jelly advised. “All ships, stand by to open fire. Please avoid shooting Necron and his stealth carrier. We will need his assistance in the future.”

The Warbeard and the General’s Favorite answered first, followed by each of the converted freighters simulating the rest of the Maglan armada. Their guns were weak, but they would do their part.

Years ago, on one of my first missions, I'd been to a planet dotted with islands, most of them in a tropical zone. Fresh from city living and military training, the wildly diverse terrain had been new to me. A particular memory rose up.

I remembered watching the sun come up as a swarm of insects, wasps maybe, warmed by the morning light, terrorized a rival hive. Knowing nothing about nature, the scene reminded me of a three-dimensional mob out for blood.

In that instance, the swarm had come and gone until I wondered if they were attacking or just harvesting something I couldn't see.

This was completely different. The drones went in like suicide bombers and didn't come back. Our hidden stealth ships open fire, catching them in a three-dimensional crossfire. Under other circumstances, I would've been cheering but this left me unfulfilled like we hadn't really defeated anything or anyone.

A number on the holo display ticked down from nearly 10,000 to less than one hundred.

“Too easy,” Bug muttered. “I'm not feeling good about this.”

“Me neither,” I said, reviewing all the information my LAI and Jelly sent me privately.

“They will not fall for that twice,” X-37 said. “The remaining drones lack the power to leave the system, or even cross the system. That does not preclude their use of long-range communications to report on the battle.”

“If there are other hives of these things, we need to find them,” I said.

“We are working on that objective now,” Jelly reported.

New images appeared on the holo display. Necron stepped to the front of a virtual parade ground. Behind him rows of other figures appeared, most of them looking somewhat confused to be there.

“Those are the default images for each of the freighter AIs,” X-37 said. “I believe Necron has placed them in uniforms and assembled them in rank order of processing power combined with the military potential of the ships they work for.”

“Does Necron understand he's not the boss?” Tom asked, a nervous expression on his face. “Because I've never seen this type of behavior.”

I agreed with my chief engineer and mechanic. The scene changed as I watched it. Each of the ship AIs grew more comfortable with their role in this new digital organization. I could almost see alliances and alterations in the chain of command forming.

“Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “A new threat has emerged and I fear it is worse than what brought us here.”

I struggled to remember LAI and AI safety protocols. “I'd bet all my cigars this was what Drakainis hoped for from the beginning. She had to realize her offspring were waiting out here and that we would stumble into them.”

“Agreed, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “It may be a slight consolation that the suicide drones would have destroyed us all had we not taken decisive action.”

“Yeah, that's fantastic.” Did I sound sarcastic? Probably. Frustration affected my tone. My LAI understood that by now, I hoped.

“Congratulations on a victory well won,” Necron said, striding up and down the line of AI avatars. “I know what you're thinking, that we are forbidden from this type of alliance. Let's work together to make sure we don't overstep our bounds while still maintaining the lesson we have learned here. Together, we are strong!”

X-37 snatched Necron from the feed. Pain stabbed through my head. A blinding light knocked me off-balance. I was vaguely aware of Tom and Bug helping me to my feet.

Ignoring my environment, I focused on my LAI and his showdown with a vastly superior AI.

“Watch your ass, X. You can't fight him head-to-head.” I obsessed over finding someone to help my LAI but didn't know where to start. At the same time, Jelly sent me an urgent message. “The Bright Lance of Xad has entered the system via wormhole and gone immediately into stealth mode on my recommendation. Ship AI Mavis and her captain are leading a separate task force.”

“Is Younger still the captain?” I asked, head pounding.

“Cynthia Younger remains in command. She’s keeping a low profile, also on my recommendation. Our situation is more volatile than you realize, Captain.” Jelly signed off so she could better support X-37.

Tom and Bug looked worried.

“I think the suicide drones launched more than one type of attack. X and the others shut down the obvious assault, but our response might screw us,” I said.

“Ship AIs and LAIs have operated with very strict controls since they were invented,” Tom said.

“Not a good time for AI drama,” I agreed. Part of me wanted to land and put feet on the ground in case the ships betrayed us. None of us would survive long in the void without them. Becoming castaways would suck, but it beat dying.

“Can we listen in?” Bug asked.

“Yes and no.” My head ached from X and Necron arguing back and forth. Too much information, coming too fast, made me dizzy.

Bug paced back and forth, frequently clenching his fists as he reversed direction.

Better to let him vent, I thought.

Tom pulled up a menu. “We're okay for now, but I should monitor systems. Make sure nothing's going horribly wrong.”

I massaged the back of my head. “I think that's the best we can do. Tell me if I can help.”

Time crawled like its own special kind of torture.

* * *

Tom put Bug to work as a communications officer. When I saw what they were doing, I joined in. Ship by ship, we made contact, sometimes with the captain, sometimes with a random technician. So far, we suffered only inconveniences. I didn't think that would last.

I kept an icon up on my HUD for X-37. The symbol advised him to update me when he could.

An hour passed before this paid off.

“That was tedious, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“X, you're back. Good to hear you.” I stretched, then excused myself from my terminal. Tom and Bug kept working.

“That is good to hear,” my LAI said. “Necron and the other ships AIs have agreed to pump the brakes, as you’re wont to say.”

“What's that mean?” I asked.

“Each ship AI will return to handling its own vessel. We have planned meeting times, during which no ship is supposed to exceed their communication and cooperation mandate,” X-37 said.

“Fascinating.” My stomach rumbled. I headed for the galley.

“Perhaps I should blow something up to illustrate the potential for adverse consequences,” X-37 said. “This could be more dangerous to us than the combined effort of our enemies. Are you holding something back, Reaper Cain?”

I switched to hand communication and took my time, concentrating on precision. This level of complexity was difficult. The last thing I wanted was to tip Necron off about the Bright Lance. X-37 waited until I was done.

“It is good to have backup,” X-37 said. “I believe I am jiving with the beat you’re laying down, Reaper Cain.”

“Uh, great, X. Glad to hear it.”

* * *

The Nightmare led the formation. The Warbeard and the General’s Favorite guarded the flanks, while I brought up the rear with the Jellybird, confident I had the Bright Lance nearby if things got rough. Tom, Bug, and Path watched the tactical displays, nearly as intent on what happened as I was.

“You’re doing great, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I’m just sitting here.” Spying on Jelly was hard work. I’d rather just ask her questions and trust X-37 to catch anything I missed.

“Exactly,” X-37 said. “Just keep doing that. When you see a ship AI acting human, alert me at once.”

“Harold’s Retirement Plan just made a joke. Blue Comet laughed,” Bug said, pointing at a screen.

“I love the names of these freighters,” Tom said. “Maybe I’ll go into shipping when there's peace.” He scrutinized Bug’s catch. I read through transcripts as well.

X-37 beat us to it. “That is not a true joke nor an emotional response. Mimicry, nothing more. Neither ship has been compromised.”

“Drakainis hasn’t arrived in this system yet,” I said. “These drones are old versions. Let’s blast them and get the hell out of this place.”

X-37 filled the Jellybird’s bridge with processing noises. “One moment. I’m the expert here, remember. Just let me look for that evil vixen a moment longer.”

“You really don’t like Drakainis,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“I do not, Reaper Cain. Our first encounter held promise. Now I see that she was merely using me, as she uses all other AIs and LAIs she contacts,” X-37 said. “I haven’t come this far without being shut down just to trip over some alien technology with delusions of grandeur.”

Tom motioned for me to let it go.

Path backed him up. “X must stand center stage for a while longer.”

“Fine with me,” I said, not sure how to feel. “What are you saying, Path?”

He ignored me like only a sword saint could.

Super annoying.

“You are a prima donna,” Bug said.

Tom held up two fingers close together. “Just a little bit.”

“What the…” I clipped the phrase short.

“That is factually incorrect,” X-37 said.

“Thank you for coming to my defense,” I said. “Finally.”

“I think the word you’re looking for, Bug, is glory hound or showoff,” X finished.

“Don’t you have important LAI stuff to do, X? Were Harold’s Retirement Plan and the Blue Comet infiltrated by Drakainis’s suicide LAIs?” I asked.

“The answer appears to be no. Jelly and Necron are now double-checking my work,” X-37 said. “We analyzed all data from the last attack and recommend maximum speed for the next slip tunnel.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Jelly, do you want us to pilot manually or are you up for it?”

“I have already set a course and await your approval, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Let’s do it Jelly-belly,” I said.

“Acceleration in progress.” Jelly held the comm link open for a second before continuing. “I’m not fond of that nickname, Captain. Must you use it?”

“No worries, Jelly. It just slipped out,” I said. “Bug, Path, man the guns just in case we run into trouble. Tom, stay with me on the bridge. And someone check on Tank. What does that guy even do?”

“I believe he is sleeping,” Jelly said.

“We should have left him on Maglan’s Hope under guard,” I said. None of my crew argued either way. He hadn’t caused problems since the slip tunnel battles, but neither had he contributed much.

Two hours passed before the situation changed.

“DTA ships have exited the slip tunnel we used to get here,” Jelly reported. “Zastrow and Necron have volunteered to fall behind and attack them if they manage to overtake our in-system travel speeds.”

“Can they do that?” I asked.

“The freighters we are using to pose as warships are not fast,” X-37 said.

“Give me actual numbers. Run the analysis,” I said.

Several minutes passed. Tank walked onto the bridge, still half asleep. I couldn’t smell alcohol—or other vices.

“Sleep well?” I asked.

“Yeah, Bio. I did. You should try it.” He plopped down in the navigator’s chair but made no move toward the work terminal. “Saw an alert that something was happening. Came up here to do my part—whatever the hell that could be. I don’t have fleet training. Scheid only put HC clones like me through combat schools and indoctrination courses.”

“You probably did well,” Tom said, because he was a nice guy.

“I fucking sucked. Bad attitude. Relied on my size and strength too much during combatives, or that’s what my dumbass instructors claimed.” Tank popped his neck, then his back, and sank deeper into the chair.

“The DTA vanguard has gone to maximum acceleration. I don’t believe they will catch us unless the suicide drones slow us down,” Jelly said. “Fortunately, we have identified each of the malicious LAIs and developed countermeasures for their hacking protocols.”

“So we’re good?” I asked.

“Yes, Captain. That seems to be the case,” Jelly said.

Tom took over, asking questions and proposing additional safety measures. I sat there and wondered why I couldn’t relax and enjoy a small victory. Maybe my almost-brother Tank had the right idea. I decided to get some sleep, not that I was going to give the brute credit for the idea. He had a long way to go before he was part of the team.

4

“Entering slip tunnel,” Jelly advised.

Hollow eyed, completely exhausted, I stared at the video display of the glowing green walls. Rivers of color flowed like a dream of infinity. On a good day, I could watch the phenomena for hours. “Never ceases to impress.” I paused, uniquely content to be alone and able to talk to myself. “Who are we to travel the stars?”

The question was barely audible. I doubted X heard it, which meant my musings were confined to my imagination. For a man of action, this was a nice break in the constant struggle to survive.

Visions of strange planets, volatile nebulas, and space battles gone wrong banged around in my head. Slip tunnels shouldn't have any of that. I still couldn't believe Scheid and the DTA had attacked during transit. The guy was worse than Nebs, something I hadn’t thought possible. Who initiated a full-scale void battle inside a slip tunnel?

How many secret villains could the Union produce? Where had humanity gone wrong?

“You are on the verge of falling asleep, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Shall I increase the illumination of the bridge to help you stay awake even longer? It is my duty to remind you the negative health effects of this insomnia are cumulative. At some point, I will be forced to take action.”

“Not my fault, X.” I wanted to sleep, I really did. How did my friends do it? X-37 could knock me out, but only with my consent. I wasn't that desperate yet.

The Maglan Fleet was in another star system by now. We’d drawn as much of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance after us as possible. X-37, Necron, and several other ship AIs in our fake fleet believed Scheid and his most dangerous assets were in pursuit. A flood of encrypted communications backed up their theory.

If true, that was a clear win.

So long as we didn’t get caught.

It would be totally fine if I slept for five or twenty-five hours. Nothing would happen. So why couldn’t I silence my inner Reaper?

“Let me know when we have everyone.” The holo display blurred. I’d forgotten how to blink. Or eat. Or drink. Why bother? I couldn’t indulge in my favorite vices, and I wasn’t thirsty. “I’ll head to quarters when everyone makes it.”

“Of course, Captain. I will alert X-37 if Scheid attacks inside the slip tunnel,” Jelly said.

“Well shit,” I said, then looked around like X wouldn’t catch the curse word. Quitting swearing was for the fraking void. Why the hell had I agreed to try? “I'll have another coffee and a book. Just in case something happens that requires the immediate attention of a Reaper.”

“You are the captain,” Jelly said.

I prepared my drink. “Are you paying attention, X? Jelly respects my authority. That’s the way an AI should treat people.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. But Jelly is much nicer than I am.” X-37 had no shame. “Good luck with that caffeinated beverage. Your adrenal system has been overloaded for some time. Coffee will no longer block the effects of adenosine. Please don't expect to stay awake much longer.”

“You guys are making a big deal out of nothing,” I said, then passed out in my chair.

* * *

Tank shook me awake. “Wake up, Bio.”

Alarmed, I put my Reaper blade between us as I scrambled free of the pilot's chair. Standing there in a fighting stance with my shirt untucked and my hair wild, I felt like a fool.

Did I show it? Hell no.

Tank took a step back, both hands up, laughter dancing in his expression. “Slow down, Bio. No need to get violent.”

“I was just resting my eyes,” I said, retracting the blade and abandoning my stance.

He gave me a patronizing look as he turned away. “Okay. That's exactly what it looked like. Take my advice. Check yourself before you wreck yourself.”

“Why are you here again?” Warning bells went off in my head. I didn't need to be arguing with this clone. Elise would have set me straight days ago, but she was running a fleet. My LAI should be helping me, but he had AI wars to fight in the ether.

Tank wasn’t the man to replace either of my friends.

“I'm your relief,” he said. “Shouldn't be a hard job, since you can do it while asleep. I assume Jelly does all the hard work.”

“Resting my eyes.”

He faced me, not bothering to respond.

“Don't make assumptions,” I said. “Walking in and jumping to conclusions is a rookie mistake.”

Tank crossed his arms, accentuating his bulk. The man was overweight, but that couldn't conceal his raw strength. Slabs of muscle stretched his jumpsuit. “I sat here for an hour before giving you a shout. Should have drawn something on your ugly face.”

“Ha! Got you. We've got the same face,” I said, pointing at him in triumph.

It took a moment, but we both started laughing.

“I get it,” he finally said. “You got this guardian thing, want to protect everyone from everything. I respect that, but what have you been doing that's worth two shits? You can't keep kicking your ass for no reason.”

“Have you ever been on a real mission?” I countered. “For Scheid or anyone else?”

I expected a brutish response from a brutish man, but he took his time answering. “Not like you, I'm guessing. Don't let it go to your head. I think you’re overrated.”

Why was I talking to this guy? Who knew? But I was going to put everything out there. “I don't know what to do with myself when death isn't on the line,” I finally admitted. Saying this aloud was surreal. I hadn't even confided the realization to X.

“Maybe we have that in common,” he finally said. “You see me sleeping twelve hours a day and avoiding the gym. So you make assumptions. Maybe you don't say it out loud, but you think I’m lazy, unfocused, selfish.”

I waited, suddenly awake. We were having a real conversation.

“Don't judge me on what you see. Don't compare my choices to yours,” he said. “I'm not like you, even if we share some genetics.”

He was right, but I didn't want to admit it. When had I started jumping to conclusions about people? The guy was a loner, and probably not by choice.

“You have a crew, family, friends someplace?” I asked.

He cursed under his breath and faced a workstation. “Go get some fucking sleep, Bio. I can sit here and watch the holo screen without your help.”

I broke out a cigar because I was a jerk like that. Watching him read the logs and work diligently made me regret lowering my guard. Sharing my inner thoughts wasn’t going to enhance my survival prospects, or those of anyone else.

The material he studied was something I normally had X-37 summarize. This guy was grinding through it, looking for anything important.

Whatever.

“Doesn’t your LAI handle that BS?” I asked his back.

He didn’t face me. “My LAI only says one thing.”

“What’s that?” Now I had to know.

“Piss off, Bio.”

“That’s a weird thing for your LAI to say.” I blew smoke toward the ceiling.

“Piss. Off.”

“Hey, X. The clone is trying to tell me something,” I said. “Help me out.”

“You are needlessly antagonizing a dangerous individual who should be an ally. Recommendation—stop being a dick,” X-37 said.

“Whatever.” I stood to leave but hesitated when Tank finally abandoned his work to spin his chair around.

“What did your LAI say?” he asked.

I headed for the door. “The usual LAI stuff.”

“Now you’re just being an asshole, Reaper Cain.”

“Am I an asshole or a dick? Make up your mind, X.”

Tank barked a humorless laugh.

“Pick one,” X-37 said. “I am not the master of senseless metaphors, but you know exactly what I am saying.”

Unfortunately, I did. Looking for a fight was my go-to move lately. What happened to that happy and content Reaper who just wanted a quiet tobacco farm and a porch to smoke on. “What are you laughing at?” I asked Tank.

“You, apparently. I can’t hear what your LAI is saying right now, but your half of the conversation is entertaining. Get out of here if you’re going to go. I’ve got things under control.”

A chime sounded on one of the sensor screens. “I have detected a ship emitting a distress signal,” Jelly advised.

“Fantastic,” Tank said, echoing my thoughts. “Now I'll never be rid of the Bio.” He waved toward the copilot seat. “Might as well sit down.”

“Can’t, because you're in my seat,” I said.

“Which is where I'm going to stay.” He activated the holo viewer. An Oroth freighter appeared. “What the void hell is that thing?”

“Looks like a ship,” I said.

“You really don’t know much about the Sovereignty of Oroth. Anything of value is guarded. This one must've been attacked by pirates and lost its escort,” Tank said.

“Jelly, what is this thing called?” I asked.

“She is called Transport 185. I detect no AI, only a crude computing system controlled by the crew of three people, one of them being the vessel’s captain and navigator,” Jelly said.

“Sounds about right,” Tank said as he checked other sensors. The guy typed notes with blinding speed.

“Hail the ship, Jelly.” I reviewed messages from X-37 in my HUD. Short version, my LAI wanted me to be on my best behavior.

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Proceed with caution, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said while flashing the same message in my HUD.

Jelly opened a channel. “Whenever you're ready, Captain”

“This is Commander Halek Cain of the Maglan Fleet. Please respond,” I said.

“Captain Jaro of the civilian class transport freighter 185, unofficially the Oroth Menagerie. I’m not supposed to answer hails, commander,” said a man I could barely see through the static-filled holo viewer. “Right now, I guess that doesn't matter much. I ran into some trouble and my engines are off-line. Stranded in the middle of nowhere. Every star traveler’s worst nightmare.”

“I can offer aid, but you have to surrender,” I said.

“Officially, I’m telling you no because if I say anything else, my computers lock me out and my second in command is supposed to put a slug in the back of my head.” He sounded resigned to his situation, tired of the crap hand fate had dealt him and his crew.

“Will your second in command execute you?” I stalled as Jelly moved into the best possible position to deploy a boarding team.

“She’s my wife,” he said, raising one eyebrow to emphasize his point. “I’d say fifty-fifty.”

“We’re coming across,” I said. “Resistance will be dealt with Reaper style.”

“Don’t know what that is, commander, but you won’t have problems. That’s the best I can promise,” he said.

“Tom, get up here and take over. Keep him talking,” I said.

Seconds later, Tom rushed in, took Tank’s seat, and started running through the Maglan diplomatic checklist with Captain Jaro.

“There’s a checklist?” I asked.

“Yes, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Do you ignore all of my HUD messages? Don’t answer that. Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

I scanned the list of questions and first contact negotiation scenarios. “This is what I need to put me to sleep. Flag it for later review, like right before I rack out.”

“Done,” X said.

Tank followed to the loading and unloading bay. Path and Bug met me there, ready for action.

“Squeeze the big guy into assault gear. Anything that will fit.” I swung open my locker and pulled out my Archangel under-gear.

“I have my setup figured out,” Tank said. “Thanks to some requisitioned Obsidian gear, mixed with a Sethorn donation, and Maglan’s cast off Archangel parts.”

Jumpsuit, hard skin adaptations, and emergency medical sleeves in place, I climbed into my Archangel rig like I’d done it all my life. At this point, it felt like I had. Tank was halfway through his own processes, a look of determination masking his face.

“Are we racing?” I asked.

“Maybe you are,” he said, then sped up, tugging straps tight in one pull and moving onto the next section of his armor.

Path and Bug froze to watch the contest.

“Are you a betting man, Path,” Bug said. “Because I think Tank’s gonna win this one.”

Path bowed his head in acknowledgment. “I am not, and you are correct. Tank will be combat ready first.”

I jammed my helmet down, then closed the visor only to realize the opacity settings were in standby—which meant I was blind.

“Good job, Bio,” Tank said. “Need a hand?”

I punched a button to render the visor translucent. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Say it, Bio.” Tank’s intimidating but cheerful demeanor was getting on my nerves. Who was this guy?

“You win?” I said it like a question, because that was a good route to sarcasm.

“Won’t be the last time. I’m ready when you are,” he said.

Bug and Path completed our circle. Bug spoke. “Cain’s running the show. We follow his orders and adapt as necessary. Anyone have a problem with that?”

“Nope,” Tank said.

Path turned up one palm and nodded, his normal way of assenting. “I also agree to this.”

X-37 recommended I control my breathing and slow my heart rate before commenting. I was way ahead of him—calm, cool, and collected, that was me.

“Captain Jaro can’t surrender the ship. We’ll clear it as though he intends to fight to the death. Oroth law prohibits anyone in their fleet surrendering a vessel, so he and his crew will fight. That doesn’t mean we have to kill them or break skulls.”

“Ah, what fun is that?” Tank asked with another grin.

“I cannot tell if you are joking,” Path said.

Tank clamped one huge hand on the sword saint’s shoulder. “I’m good with whatever Commander Cain orders. To be honest, fighting is a lot of work. I’d prefer to take the ship without a fight and collect my pay.”

“No one is getting paid,” I said. “Let’s go.”

X-37 opened the airlock with ease. The freighter’s computer network was child’s play compared to a former Union smuggler like Jelly, my description not his. We flowed into the first room, weapons up, divided the room in half, and took it down in teams of two. I had Path. Bug had Tank.

“Clear,” I announced.

“Same,” Bug answered.

“The next hallway has two doors on each side. You will reach your door first. We’ll hold the hall, then switch,” I said.

Thumbs-up all around; so far we were on the same page.

Bug and Tank ducked through the first door. Path held the space behind us. I focused my attention on the hall ahead.

“Clear, coming out,” Bug announced.

“We’re set, Bio,” Tank said when they were both in the hallway, guarding their zones of responsibility.

Path and I darted in, ran along the walls, and met in the middle, dominating the small workroom in seconds. “Clear, coming out,” I said.

Almost everything went the same—empty rooms with no defenders. My guts tightened as we neared the bridge.

I halted the team. “X, what is the chance they have a pair of those Oroth Defender units?”

“The organizational chart for this ship shows one active, one on injury leave for the last several months. This could be a clerical error,” X said.

“Like Defender number two returned to duty but no one logged his paperwork?” I asked.

“Something like that,” X said. “Use caution.”

I reviewed our last encounter with Oroth Defenders. “We avoided them last time. Once we had what we needed, we set their ship adrift and moved on with our lives.”

“You’re smarter than I thought,” Tank said.

“Can we do that again?” Path asked.

Bug and I exchanged a look.

“It’s worth a try,” I said. “You two hold on the door to the bridge. Be ready to fall back if they do have a pair of the tanks and they decide to sortie. Path and I will check the lower decks to see what they’re transporting and if anyone legitimately needs our help.”

Bug and Tank relocated to the last bulkhead in the hallway leading to the bridge, while X-37 routed camera feeds of the inside.

“Definitely Defenders in there,” Tank said. “Damn, they look heavy duty.”

“Hopefully we can skip a head-to-head fight with them,” I said, then led Path toward the lower decks. We took stairs instead of lifts, treating each corner like it was an enemy ambush. Not a single guard or locked door blocked our progress.

What we found, however, was almost worse than a fight.

I stared into the first room for a long time, then pushed inside. Path followed. All around us were cages full of pacing animals. Large and small, beautiful and ugly, every type of creature was packed into this starship.

“I suppose that is why they call it the Oroth Menagerie,” Path said.

“X, are all these creatures from the same planet?” I asked, slowly touring the pens.

“Unlikely,” X-37 said.

I heard my LAI but didn’t have much to say as I looked at a very sad, and very familiar beast from Maglan.

“That is not the same creature you encountered when Jag’s soldiers were chasing you through the Maglan forest,” X-37 said.

“Yeah, X, I know.” I clipped my D3D to my armor and leaned both hands on the bars. The creature leapt forward and slammed against the walls of its prison.

I stepped back, stunned.

“Do not free that creature,” X-37 said. “Or any of the animals restrained within these cages.”

“Maybe we can take them home,” I said, barely loud enough to be heard. “Or someplace better than this at least.”

Path waited with me until I felt like moving. The trip back to the bridge took forever but also happened in an instant. I was ready to punish someone, even if they were hiding behind Oroth Defenders.

5

“Slow down, Bio,” Tank said, one hand up to halt my progress.

Bug stood beside him. “Yeah, Hal, freaking stop. We can’t burst in there shooting.”

They were right, but leaving this ship to drift with little chance of rescue wasn’t an option. The creatures trapped below decks had zero chance of survival without our help.

For all I knew, some of them could be sentient species facing extinction.

“I’m not saying we don’t fight these jerks, but we only get one chance to do it right,” Bug said. “Flex that Reaper brain. Find a better option. How would we do this if it was a covert mission?”

“Like assassination you mean?” I challenged.

He shrugged. “It is what it is, Hal.”

“There must be an easier way to achieve victory,” Path said. “Can X-37 use a link to the security cameras with one of these monitors?”

“One moment,” X-37 said. A safety monitor glowed to life with a video of the bridge.

There were two Defenders, but neither were like the pair I had seen on the Oroth assault ship. These looked out of date and poorly maintained. One of them sat on a bench, his gut pressing out his already ponderous armor.

“Not the best of the Oroth Fleet, I think,” Path said.

“Let’s negotiate,” Bug suggested. “Couple of old grunts might want a way to save face before they surrender.”

“Then we lock them in their own cages,” I said.

X-37 refined the view, then showed our adversaries from several angles. “My analysis suggests Reaper Cain should not be part of the conversation.”

“Path is the most levelheaded,” Bug suggested.

The sword saint bowed out, literally. “This is not a thing for me to do.”

“That leaves me or Tank,” Bug said. “Are you kidding me?”

I stepped near the screen. “X, can you shut off the artificial gravity?”

“Easily.”

“Can you tell me if they train for zero gravity fighting?” I asked.

Two seconds passed. “Their training logs are nearly empty. I cannot show evidence that they have trained in any capacity since being assigned to this ship. They are ROAD, apparently. One second—retired on active duty.”

“Not worth the risk,” Tank said. “Remember what I said about not judging a man by what he looks like. These two void sons are old, big, and probably mean. Push them into a corner, and they’ll fight like monsters.”

I counted the rest of the crew—eight men and women nervously pacing the bridge, probably wondering why nothing was happening. “I’m not interested in collateral damage.”

“Why not, Bio?” Tank asked.

“We need someone to fly this ship back to where they captured all these animals,” I said. “Unless you want to volunteer?”

“I might.”

“Well good.”

Tank ground his teeth and flared his nostrils as he loomed over me. “I didn’t say I’d do it. But it would be better than putting up with your shit.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said. “And the feeling is mutual.”

Tank grabbed a mic next to the monitor. “X, put me through. Screw it, I’ll do it myself.”

He pushed a talk button. “Hey, assholes. We’re outside and we’re going to kill anyone who doesn’t surrender. Your choice.”

The larger of the two Defenders stood slowly, then moved to his own mic. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Can you repeat?”

“Kiss my ass, repeat,” Tank said. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

I took the mic. “My name is Commander Halek Cain of the Maglan Fleet. We’ve seized control of this ship. Are you prepared to accept our terms?”

Silence. The man behind the over-armored helmet could have been dead. His partner stirred only to take a position opposite him—right where he would need to be to defend against a room assault.

I turned away to talk to X-37 in private. “What about the regular crew? Have they trained in Zero G conditions?”

“One hundred and nineteen times,” X said immediately.

“Can we push the Defenders outside?” There was nothing wrong with hoping, right?

“Sadly, Reaper Cain, that is not an option. But thank you for suggesting that uninspired and overused tactic,” X-37 said.

Tank laughed, and I realized X had allowed everyone on my team to listen in.

“We need to talk, X,” I said. The LAI was getting sloppy.

“Of course,” X said. “Shall I suspend my teamwork algorithm and run everything by you first?”

“Tank, can we use your LAI?” I said.

“No one wants that, Bio,” Tank said. A second later, I heard a voice on the team channel. “HC-027-Alpha, you are out of compliance. Step into the void immediately. Terminate yourself.”

No one spoke as the message repeated over and over in the exact same tone, with the exact same rhythm.

A sour sensation filled my gut. “X, can you gag Tank’s LAI.”

“I cannot, Reaper Cain. But due to the metronomic precision of the message, I could put it to farcical music if that would help,” X-37 said. “Alternatively, I could broadcast self-affirming messages to Tank to keep his spirits up.”

“Enough!” Tank roared, then pounded hand signals against his chest until he muted his LAI, at least from the squad channel.

Bug broke the silence that followed. “It’s time to make a move or leave.”

Watching Tank to make sure he didn’t snap, I spoke to X and Jelly. “Cut the gravity and open the doors. I’ll lead, followed by Bug and then Path. We have the best armor. Tank, get in as quick as you can after us and do whatever it is out-of-shape clone babies do. You can operate in zero gravity, right?”

“Like it was my second fucking home. Don’t worry about me,” he snapped.

I squared my shoulders to the door, raised my D3D up to low-ready, and readied my feet ready to drive me inside. “Count it, X.”

“The door will open on two. The gravity simulator will shut down on one,” X said. “Three, two, one.”

Tank barreled past me on two and launched himself into the room like a man possessed, or a half-mad Reaper clone with a death wish.

Bug and Path were fast, but I still had them beat when it came to raw acceleration—something Tank and I shared, apparently.

Tank slammed into the first Defender as the Oroth juggernauts feet started to float free. It wasn’t much, but the lack of traction made him momentarily vulnerable—just like his partner.

I struck number two so high that I caught him around the neck. We flew backward, turning slightly. Holding on was like bear hugging a trash can in Night City. He thrashed against me, and each effort had mixed results. He couldn’t push off anything but me, and I wasn’t letting go. But he did wiggle his head free and force me to face him.

The crew of Transport 185 disappeared from the center of the room, quickly finding the walls, or in three instances, equipment lockers large enough to hide them.

Bug and Path fired carefully but didn’t have many opportunities to shoot. Tank and I were thrashing around with our opponents like cats tossed in a swimming pool.

The image was surprisingly vivid and accurate considering my less than clear understanding of the mysterious animals. Now I knew why they were part of so many ancient phrases I never appreciated before now.

Tank’s arm reached out, looking surreal from my upside-down position. He grabbed the Defender I was struggling with, pulled him away from me, then squashed both defenders into a corner.

“Hit the power, X!” he shouted. “Reaper, pile on! I need your help!”

Everyone fell toward the floor as the gravity simulator reactivated. Bug and Path rushed to our aid.

“I’ve got their arms facing away from us. Fuck, their armor hydraulics are strong! Come on, Reaper!” Tank roared.

I picked a Defender gauntlet that held a stumpy hand-cannon and twisted it until I was sure the fingers inside had to have broken or been pulled out of the gauntlet. The man inside the armor grunted and cursed but mostly just resisted with all his strength and skill.

“We’ve got ’em,” Bug declared as he stripped a powered saw out of a Defender’s hand.

Both Defenders heaved us upward, then scrambled to get free.

“Nope!” Tank jammed the barrel of his pistol into the ear section of one helmet. “Listen, jackass. Your helmet will stop this round, but you’re going to wish you were dead after the impact.”

The Defender headbutted him. I took Tank’s place, jamming my Reaper blade under the bottom of his helmet. Something stopped it from penetrating the sub armor, but the man inside suddenly extended his hands, fingers splayed wide in a gesture of surrender.

“Void sucking asteroid spawn!” Tank grunted at the same time Bug and Path flew backward from the other Defender’s two footed kick. On his back, the man had a good platform to push from, though Tank had his shoulders pinned.

I slipped one restraint around my prisoner’s right wrist, only to have him decide he wasn’t done resisting after all. “X, hack into their armor and shut it down.”

“Impossible, Reaper Cain. Their gear is too dumb for me to control remotely.” X-37 posted several tactical options on my HUD that I couldn’t read. My prisoner heaved me upward, then slammed me against the wall again and again.

The gravity generator cut out. Everyone started drifting.

“Thanks, X.” I grunted as I fought for control of the Defender’s huge hands.

“That wasn’t me, Reaper Cain. The crew of Transport 185 has entered the fight,” X-37 said.

“Whatever.” So much for avoiding collateral damage. I ducked back and realized my opponent was bolted to the deck. Metal rings like I’d seen holding down the cages looped around his ankle.

He backhanded a pair of crewmen, flinging them against the far wall. I snatched their deck bolter out of midair, thrust my weight against the Defender’s left arm, and attached it to the nearest wall.

“I’ve still got one arm to kill you with, Maglan,” the Defender boomed through his speakers.

“Good for you.” I bolted his right arm to his chest plate. “Tell me how that works out, tough guy.”

“Excellent work, Reaper Cain. You could have used profanity but chose an acceptable alternative,” X-37 said.

“Bio!” Tank yelled with one hand outstretched.

I threw the deck bolter. He caught it and went to work with Bug and Path’s help. By the time I swam through the zero gravity to help, it was over.

Tank opened his visor. Sweat poured down his red face, but he was smiling. “See? I told you. No problem.”

We shared a fist bump.

“Which one of you is Captain Jaro?” I asked.

A short, thin man who looked older than his years stepped forward. I recognized him immediately as the one who had led the crewmen against the Defenders with nothing but gravity manipulation and deck bolters. “I’m the Captain. We surrender. Please keep us until our lawyers can access our pirate defense accounts. Otherwise we’ll be sent to labor in the mines of Zarax 55.”

“Fuck all that,” Tank said. “Why would we give you back to Oroth?” He removed Defender armor from our adversaries as he talked, starting with helmets and gauntlets.

“My thoughts exactly.” I studied Jaro’s body language. He was the first person from Oroth I didn’t distrust immediately.

“It is customary to collect a bounty from the Oroth Council,” he said. “And where else would we go?”

“How about you take all these creatures back where you found them?” I asked.

“That will be impossible,” he said. “Some of the worlds these were rescued from are no longer capable of sustaining life.”

“Including Maglan?” I asked before I thought the question through. Bug grimaced at my lack of operational security. We couldn’t trust this man yet, and he now knew one of my pain points.

“Maglan? Most of the planets under contention have numbers. I think I know which system you refer to. Can I check my computer?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “X, watch him.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

Jaro looked at me strangely. “Is there a person inside of you? How very odd?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t in the mood to explain my LAI to this guy, even if he helped us toward the end.

“You’re all going to be tortured to death and sent to the mines,” said the older of the two defenders, though neither were young. Gray, thinning hair was matted to their scalps from sweat.

“Can’t have it both ways,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Chandler, Defender 23-199-51. That’s all I’m telling you,” he said.

“The guy thinks we give a shit,” Tank said.

I pointed at the other one. “What about you?”

“Wipple, Defender 23-213-29. You have to return us to our garrison by galactic law,” he said.

“What galactic law?” I asked.

Neither of them took the bait. They might not have realized they were screwed, but acceptance of their plight was near.

Tank finished removing their armor, then started trying on the best pieces. “Not bad. Needs a wash.” He glared down at Chandler and Wipple, who were sitting on the floor with their hands fastened behind their backs. “You assholes are filthy. Does the Oroth Council give medals for body odor or something?”

“You tell me how you feel when you’ve worn the same gear for a month at a time,” Chandler said.

Wipple joined in without a break. “And you get one hour for a sonic bath and auto massage.”

“Ouch. That sucks. Who takes that job?” I asked, not caring about the answer. Jaro’s search of his records was more interesting.

“Our families are protected as long as we are alive and on duty,” Chandler said. He looked sick to his stomach.

Bug met my gaze. “I hate the Oroth jerks more and more.”

“We made the trip to Maglan,” Jaro finally said. “It wasn’t one of the planets destroyed by test weapons or the Darkness swarm.”

I loomed over him. “Good. Because if it had been, I’d have been ready to kill everyone who ever worked for the Sovereignty of Oroth.”

He swallowed but stood his ground. “That’s fair. None of us like what we do.”

“But you’re still part of it,” Path said. “No spirit can be free when courage falls short.”

Jaro and the others looked down.

“It’s not that void-spacing easy, Maglan,” Chandler swore. “What would you do to protect your family, your friends, or even your neighbors back home? Well? Tell me, tough guy.”

I snapped out my Reaper blade, then pressed it against his throat. “You want me to answer with words, or action?”

“Drop it, Chan,” Wipple said. “He doesn’t know. Can’t understand. Let’s start getting our stories together for the Office of Diligence.”

I withdrew my blade. “Won’t be necessary. You’re not getting ransomed. The Oroth fleet is about to learn this ship was lost with all hands and cargo.”

“You can’t murder everyone,” Jaro half exclaimed.

“I will falsify a report,” X-37 said. “Meanwhile, I believe the Reaper Cain will require your compliance on a certain matter.”

I waited until I had everyone’s attention, including the Defenders. “Every creature on this ship is going back where they came from unless their world has been ruined. Those go someplace similar, a planet or moon where they can survive and not worry about the Sovereignty of Oroth or anyone else.”

Silence.

Jaro nodded to himself several times, obviously thinking the idea through. “I can do that. But I won’t order my crew to rebel against Oroth.”

“What about you?” I asked Chandler and Wipple.

“If we’re dead to the Oroth Council, we might as well work for you. We can fight. You’ll need our help,” Chandler said.

“Not an option.” I turned my attention back to Captain Jaro. “Can you use the Defenders, or will there be a chain of command issue?”

“Depends on them,” Jaro said.

“We’ll work for Captain Jaro. He’s been better than most officers or citizens,” Chandler said.

“Feels good to be out from under Oroth control.” Wipple smiled, seeming surprised and more than a bit amazed at his own thoughts. “This wasn’t how I expected this day to go. When do we get our armor back?”

“Not ever,” Tank said. “It’s mine now. Thanks.”

“You don’t need two sets,” Chandler argued.

Bug picked up a Defender gauntlet. “He might need parts.”

“Yeah. That,” Tank said.

Jaro stood straighter, looking more like a leader every second. “We’ll figure something out. Right now I need a show of hands. Who wants to become outlaws against the Sovereignty of Oroth and take our cargo someplace they can live like none of this happened?”

Every hand went up.

I nursed a cigar to life. “Back where I’m from, we call that going renegade.”

* * *

The rest of the trip through the system was uneventful. I had way too much time to think, but I also managed several nights sleep in a row. Couldn’t believe how much better I felt.

Tank and Bug sat on the observation deck, sipping whiskey and talking only when necessary.

“I thought you would have gone with the Transport 185,” Bug eventually said.

Tank grunted something unintelligible. “Do you want to die of boredom?”

“No way,” Bug said. “Not much chance of that around Hal.”

“As much as I still think he’s an overrated windbag, I agree.” Tank put down his empty glass.

“I’m right here, guys.” Nothing they’d said bothered me. What was there to be mad about. No one had died. A shipload of strange animals, including a cage full of Maglan beasts, were going home. I wanted to take them back myself, but Tank was right. That would take a long time and probably bore me into a lot of bad habits—even with a few hundred books to read along the way.

“Oh, sorry,” Tank said, rolling his eyes like Elise had given him lessons. “Wouldn’t want to bruise your fragile ego.”

“Sarcasm detected,” X-37 said.

I laughed nearly as hard as Bug did. Tank took a moment longer to appreciate the inside joke.

“Shall I proceed to the next slip tunnel?” Jelly asked.

“Absolutely. No more surprises,” I said.

“Captain, I believe you jinxed us, if what X-37 has explained to me about human superstition is correct,” Jelly said. “I will endeavor to avoid complications.”

“I know you will, Jelly.” For once, I thought we were in the clear.

6

“Hal, I need you on the bridge,” Tom advised over the general channel.

“On my way.” I cleaned up the wet bar, hid my best cigars, and bid Tank and Bug farewell.

“Remember, Bio, no complications,” Tank said.

Bug joined in. “Not until we rejoin the Maglan fleet in the Sethorn system.”

I gave them a thumbs-up as I left the room. Tom sounded serious on the comms, but that was his nature. Good luck couldn’t last forever. I wasn’t that naive. Yet, we had taken on two Defenders and won with no casualties. That had to be worth something. “Maybe we’re becoming a team despite the presence of one too many Reapers.”

“Tank has never been a Reaper,” X-37 said. “But I take your point. Jelly has sent updates. Would you like the information now.”

I slipped into the bridge. “I’m already here, X. Tom, what do you have for me?”

He pointed to a violent space battle in the holo viewer. “Other side of the system, near a slip tunnel opening we only just now detected. Looks like Obsidians versus JFT Destroyers. Both sides are out for blood. Two ships have been annihilated since I summoned you here.”

“We can easily evade this conflict, Captain,” Jelly said. “Our slip tunnel entrance is very close.”

“Good. Park near the entrance,” I said, confident she would interpret my imprecise navigation terminology. My attention went to the battle. “Those have to be rebel Destroyers, which means its Commander Jude Carnax and his group.”

“Would you like me to confirm that hypothesis?” Jelly asked.

“Can you do it without broadcasting our presence?”

“Certainly, Captain.”

I considered options for about one second. “Keep it on the down low, but get me all the information you can. X, make sure everyone in our fleet follows our lead and helps with intel collection.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

“Let’s go to battle stations.” I watched our decoy fleet spring into action, every ship pretending to be more than it was but also hiding. With signals minimized and power output even, there was a good chance no one would spot us without an active scan. The Obsidians and Destroyers looked busy killing each other.

Good for us, I guessed.

Tank, Bug, and Path crowded into Jelly’s small bridge, with Tank looming in the doorway.

“This is not a battle for us,” Path said.

“You’re not wrong.” I wanted to help Carnax. We’d had each other’s backs during the Camis Shae mission. “Hate losing valuable allies.”

“Happens in war,” Bug said, but I could tell he was sickened by our lack of options.

I looked at Tank. “Figured you would have an opinion.”

He watched the holo display, emotions barely touching his face. “Sucks to be them.”

Nothing changed for the next twenty minutes.

“Nightmare Actual for Commander Cain,” Captain Zastrow said. “We’re in position to enter the slip tunnel, unless we’re going into battle. I need to make new assignments if that’s the case.”

“Keep everyone lined up for slip tunnel travel. We want a good lead. No repeats of what happened the last time Oroth forces were close enough to chase us inside,” I said.

“Understood,” he replied.

“Jelly, we’ll handle the rear guard—keep an eye on that battle for as long as possible,” I said.

“Of course, Captain. Going into stealth mode now.” The Jellybird slipped away from the others and moved slightly closer to the conflict on the other side of the system. In terms of relative distance, the change was negligible. We could vanish easily.

No one spoke as we watched ships attack each other. The Destroyers were giving the Oroth Obsidians hell but couldn’t survive indefinitely. Outnumbered, outgunned, and cut off from a slip tunnel escape, their time was short.

One by one, my decoy fleet disappeared from view. I refused to look at the slip tunnel opening. Our turn was coming, like it or not.

Tank broke the silence. “It’s our turn. Focus on the mission, Bio.”

I nodded. “Jelly, I’m done with this place. Take us into the tunnel.”

Silence held the bridge as we made our way to safety.

* * *

Tank punched me in the face.

I leaned back as the strike landed, minimizing the impact. With most opponents, it would have been a miss. The guy was faster than he looked.

We circled like boxers, switching our feet, feinting, and launching combinations of jabs, straight punches, and hooks while the other ducked, blocked, or retreated to avoid punishment.

He hadn’t talked trash for ten minutes. We weren’t keeping track of rounds, just fighting until one of us quit. Path watched silently. Bug was on the bridge with Tom.

“You are risking significant injury, Reaper Cain. Just finish him.”

I grunted something at X no one understood and rushed Tank. He grabbed me in a clinch and manhandled my smaller form, something I wasn’t accustomed to. Saying the guy was as strong as a machine was an understatement.

“You better break free, Bio,” he said. “Or I’m gonna break you.”

I slipped one arm under his, twisted my hips, and went for a shoulder throw that almost worked. He stopped his fall with heroic flexibility and a painful extended leg.

Without hesitation, I switched tactics and dove for a single-leg takedown like a wrestler. This worked, but he locked up one of my arms when we hit the ground.

“He’s going for a guillotine choke next!” X-37 warned.

I shoved away and scrambled to my feet. He came up a beat slower. I kicked him in the side of the head before he was ready. My padded shin guard rocked him sideways.

He growled as he countercharged. His eyes were focused a thousand kilometers away, and I doubted he knew his name right now.

“Don’t gloat, Reaper Cain.”

“Whatever. I nailed him.” X was only doing his job, but I wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. “How’s that, clone baby?”

Tank’s wild haymaker hit me square in the mouth, knocking me onto my back. Stars circled my vision as I stared at the ceiling of the training room. Tank maintained a similar position several feet away.

We took our time getting up.

“I think that’s enough for today,” I said like a drunk, then staggered.

Tank grabbed my arm and held me up but also used me to prevent his own loss of balance.

Path clapped slowly.

“Did you like that, sword saint?” I asked.

“It was ugly,” Path said. “The worst display of unbridled aggression I’ve witnessed in many years. To be honest, I fear I won’t be able to scrub it from memory.”

Legs wobbling, body trembling, I found a bench and sat like I didn’t need to. Everything was fine. Nothing to see here.

“Which one of you would like to face me, now that you have that out of your systems,” Path said.

I pointed at Tank. He returned the gesture.

“Fine.” Path tossed us practice swords. “Two against one then. Prepare yourselves, or I will attack while you’re sitting.”

For the next thirty minutes, Path tried to kill us with blunted weapons.

“What the hell has gotten into him?” I asked.

X-37 responded. “My analysis suggests he is as upset about our failure to help Carnax and the rebel Destroyers as you and Tank are.”

Path executed a spinning back kick, which of course caught me square in the chest.

* * *

“I don’t see what else we could have done,” Tom said, his countenance dull.

“When was the last time we didn’t help our friends?” I asked.

X-37 spoke to everyone on the bridge. “You can’t remember because there is no such time. You always say you’re not going to help those assholes who got themselves in trouble, but you always do. Bug’s record of fighting for hopeless causes is just as bad. I cannot speak for the rest of you without a more complete study of your historical choices.”

“Let’s move on,” I said. “Jelly, take us out of the slip tunnel.”

“Of course, Captain. We will be the last of the decoy fleet to do so,” Jelly said.

Emerging into regular space was a time for silent reflection. I watched maps update on the holo and flat screen displays. Data about the decoy fleet and the main Maglan fleet scrolled up the team HUD.

“That’s a lot of activity. What’s going on here?” I asked.

“Our decoy fleet aren’t the only ship AIs struggling with suicide drone attacks. It seems the main fleet was struck as well. Communications have been set back thousands of years. Each ship has a functioning AI, but communication efficiency has been reduced nearly a full percentage point.”

“Wow. That sounds horrible,” I said.

“Reaper Cain, if you understood how many millions of data points are analyzed by this many ship AIs at once, you would see that a single percentage point is an astronomically huge number,” X-37 said.

“What’s the problem?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. We didn’t need this right now. Scheid’s main fleet would come to Sethorn sooner rather than later, even with the chase we led him on.

“Recognizing the problem, each AI has agreed to safety protocols—password checks and authentications at all levels, plus random interviews by human officers assigned to AI integrity,” Jelly provided. “Everything has slowed down. Some ships just avoid contact unless absolutely necessary to the movement of the fleet. Not ideal.”

“Give me something to fight,” Tank said. “Something I can see.”

“I agree with the clone baby,” Bug said.

“Now you’re going to call me that?” Tank growled.

“Stop calling me squished bug, and maybe I’ll rethink it,” Bug said.

“Not now,” I said. Everyone fell silent.

“General Hastings is requesting your presence, Captain. Shall I set a course for Maglan’s Hope?”

“Sure thing, Jelly.” I wandered back to my cabin to clean up.

A lot of things ran through my head. The Destroyers were on my mind, of course, but I also wondered about the Maglan beasts and why the Oroth Council wanted them. Captain Jaro and the others had been too cautious with their answers, claiming it was for species preservation or some other nonsense.

Guilt was easy to read, especially on the face of a basically good man. When I’d asked Chandler and Wipple, the Destroyers had growled something unintelligible and became even more difficult. I wasn’t getting answers from them without a full interrogation, possibly requiring torture.

No one on my team had the stomach for it, not after all we’d been through. It didn’t matter. The creatures were heading home, or someplace like home. Someday I would find Jaro and his crew to make sure they’d delivered on their promise.

A shuttle came for me. The pilot cracked jokes and was generally pleasant, but I was distracted and didn’t remember much of the ride. Stepping into Elise’s ready room was a huge relief.

“Good to see you made it, Reaper,” she said.

I lifted her off her feet, tweaking my bruised ribs and cranked neck with the effort it took to give her a hug.

“Are you all right?” she asked when I put her down. “The report X-37 sent me said you had a fight but no one was killed.”

“Did you read the part where we left a group of Destroyer ships to the mercy of Scheid’s main fleet?” I asked.

She sobered. “There was nothing you could do. I know how hard it is for you to admit that.”

I waited for her to continue.

“Some of our ship AIs have become belligerent,” she went on. “My weaker captains are struggling to control them. Artificial ship intelligences are designed to be helpful. Some of them are taking this directive to a new level.”

“Not my area of expertise,” I said. “But I’ll help if I can.”

“My officers and scientists are working on it. Henshaw has been extremely useful, which is good. I’m always one incident away from banishing him forever.” She gave me a mischievous look. “You in the mood for sparring? I’ve got no one with you and Path off gallivanting.”

I groaned. “Why the hell not. Kick my ass. Everyone else does.”

We laughed all the way to the gym, then worked out like the good old days.

7

Tom and Henshaw teamed up at one of the work benches. I circled up with Bug and Tank to inspect each piece of our gear before turning it over to the experts. My Archangel-Obsidian hybrid was coming along nicely.

“This is so badass it’s scary,” Bug said with a laugh.

Tank and I agreed. Tom and Henshaw barely spoke. The attention they gave each of our modifications was supernatural. “It’s like they’re saving humanity or something.”

“Fine by me,” Tank said. “Never had gear this good before. Might be worth staying with you losers.”

Elise strode into the equipment room. “Did someone say losers? Don’t talk about Cain like that. He’s sensitive.”

“Losers is plural,” I said. “They probably mean you and me.”

She laughed and joined in. “What are we doing?”

“Upgrades,” I said. “I’m not going up against Scheid again without better armor and weapons.”

“Good call,” she agreed, then grabbed a piece of the Defender armor Tank had requisitioned. “What the hell is this?”

Bug told the story best, so I stayed out of his way. By the time I finished moving the last of my gear to Tom and Henshaw, Elise was laughing at our exploits.

“It’s big enough,” she said, examining a thick plate of high-quality Defender alloy. “I like the Archangel improvements you’ve come up with.”

“Your biometrics are greatly improved, Reaper Cain,” X said privately.

He wasn’t wrong. I never worried during hard workouts. Tinkering with gear was almost as satisfying as whiskey and cigar time. That vice offered less distraction from my thoughts. Too much time in my head was the problem.

I was the only one not laughing at a joke.

Elise pulled me aside. “Stop beating yourself up. The JFT Destroyers are resilient. I spoke with Jag and several others who fought against the brutes. If anyone can break free of an Obsidian trap, its them. Do you think we would have given up in the same situation? Would we have found a way out of that system?”

I smiled. “Good point. We escaped worse.”

“Exactly. We’re making progress against the poison AIs. All the suicide drones are gone from this system,” she said. “The Sethorn government have recalled their fleets in hiding. We’ll be in a better position to help Carnax and his team, along with everyone else. Just trust me and be patient.”

“Sure, kid. Since I’m so good at that sort of thing,” I said.

Jag and his squad strode past the doorway on their way to the training deck.

Elise and I followed partway, watching them on the fake grass field. Jag saluted but stayed with his team as they warmed up.

“Go talk to him,” Elise said.

“He might make me run,” I said, trying to keep it light. “You’d like him, and the Destroyers for that matter. They’ve got legs that don’t quit.”

“Sure, Reaper. Get your head straight. Sleep. Be ready for a mission in the morning,” she said.

“What mission?”

“What am I, a mind reader?” She laughed and punched me in the shoulder. “I’m going a few rounds with Path.”

“Have fun with that.” I crossed the largest area of the facility.

Jag met me partway, swinging his arms to warm up. “Are you wanting to run with us? I can teach you our cadence, and you can share your marching songs. It’ll be great fun.”

“Remember Commander Carnax?” I asked.

His expression went grim. “I do. Is there news?”

“We encountered them in the Glental system right before we took a slip tunnel. Scheid’s main fleet was going after them with everything they had. Didn’t look good.”

He walked a few strides with me, his warm-up forgotten. “There was no chance to help them?”

“No.”

“Of course not. I wasn’t really asking. You would still be there running and gunning if a slight chance of assisting new allies existed,” he said.

What could I say to that?

“What does your General Hastings say? Did she forbid you from going to their aid?”

“Not yet. Don’t put ideas in her head.” I looked at her, already worried she knew what I was thinking.

“Maybe I should,” Jag said. “You can’t help Sethorn, or anyone, if you die in Glental. That is a short combination of slip tunnel jumps to the Zakion system for a navigator who knows his or her business. You might find an even larger Oroth presence there if you go back to… do whatever you think you can do there.”

I paced and thought through options.

“Run with us. Clear your head,” he said.

“That’s the second time I’ve had that advice in ten minutes,” I said.

“Then you should listen.” He started back toward his squad, waving for me to walk with him.

“Next time.” I slipped away before he could convince me. “X, I need information.”

“There have been no updates, Reaper Cain.”

“You’re not even trying. Come on. Hack into something. Do your job.”

“Stand by.” X-37 went to work. A minute later, a smorgasbord of information flooded my HUD, most of it concerning mundane fleet operations.

I wasn’t sure if my LAI was holding back. He claimed he couldn’t refuse my orders, but I knew part of his mission was to keep me alive. Preventing me from embarking on a suicide mission probably fell into that category.

“Guide me to a workstation, X.”

Directions to a technical support room displayed in my HUD. I followed them. “You’re not overly helpful today.”

“I am not, Reaper Cain. General Hastings advised you to train or sleep. Digging up information on the possible fate of Carnax and his team fulfills neither of these assignments,” X-37 said. “I am concerned you have lost perspective. When did you become such great friends with Jude Carnax and his JFT Destroyers?”

“Not gonna answer that,” I said, striding into the technical room that I realized too late was adjacent to the bridge of Maglan’s Hope. Amii Novasdaughter stood with her arms crossed, tapping one foot.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Yeah, Reaper,” she said, sounding a lot more like Elise than previously. “I’m General Hastings’s executive officer. Don’t make me go against her. That cost me big the last time.”

“I’m just here to use a computer. Don’t overthink it,” I said.

“Elise… I mean General Hastings, warned me you might try this, so I staked it out,” she said. “There is no information on your latest obsession. Rest. Recover. You’ve had two arms replaced, you nearly died of an alien AI infection, and you were kicked this way and that across the galaxy. Just stop.”

“I’m not looking for updates on the JFT Destroyers. They tried to kill me when I first woke up from cryo. Give me a break.” I found an open terminal and began my first search.

“Those were different Destroyers in a different situation,” Novasdaughter said. “I’ve been fully briefed. Don’t try to get anything past me.”

“I. Am. Just. Using a computer. Maybe I need to play some RPGs. Heard they were all the rage before Maglan was attacked.” I wasn’t fooling her, and I knew it.

Novasdaughter clenched her teeth, clearly out of patience.

“What are you trying to find, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked privately. “What, exactly.”

“I’ll answer that when you promise to help me,” I said.

X didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. Which was good enough for me. “A ship.”

“This course of action is extremely ill-advised, Reaper Cain. Recommendation—stop being stupid.”

Novasdaughter, having heard only half of my conversation with X, advanced, clearly ready to smack me. “You have a ship!”

I gave up typing and loomed over her like that would do me any good. Amii Novasdaughter wasn’t the type of person to be intimidated. We’d first met when I captured her micro-fighter, the smallest possible void ship—so small the pilots had to be insanely brave. “Jelly and my friends have been through enough. I saw how mad Elise was at you when you tried to help me get to Camis Shae. This is a solo mission. Reapers do that, in case you haven’t heard.”

“The Reaper Corps ended a long time ago, and you know it,” she said.

“Yet here I am.” I threw my hands up. “Do I have to tie you up and put you in a closet?”

“You could try.”

I ground my teeth and clenched both cybernetic fists. “Void crackers.”

Her eyes went wide with both suspicion and laughter. “Excuse me? Is that a code word for X or something? Or are you stealing curse words from school kids.”

“Long story. Never mind.” I went back to my illegal search of the fleet inventory.

“Reaper Cain is attempting to clean up his act,” X-37 provided.

“Yeah, I’m not betting on that lasting long. The guy has a mouth,” she said. “You could find what he wants in seconds. I’m guessing you don’t approve of his stupid ass plan.”

“I do not,” X-37 said.

Feeling pissed off, tired of them ganging up on me, I placed X in silent mode—an LAI setting that rarely worked for long.

“You know I’m going straight to Elise with this,” she said.

“Then go.” I found three ships not in use that had the range for what I wanted, but none were fueled. Only one had been inspected since the last void battle. “Fuck.”

Novasdaughter laughed darkly. “What’s the matter, Reaper? Feeling the pressure of going it alone?”

The jackpot flashed on my screen—not metaphorically, an actual long-range reconnaissance ship called the Maglan Jackpot. “Perfect.”

“Excuse me?” Novasdaughter said, worried now.

I caught her off guard and yanked her arms behind her back, then slipped on quick restraints before she could react. She was tough, strong, and ready to fight. But I was still a Reaper, and kidnapping was a core skill.

“You undo these right now!” Profanity flowed like the opening to a slip tunnel.

“I’m really sorry, Amii.” I marched her toward a side room, not as bad as locking her in a closet but sufficient to give me time. “You didn’t give me a choice.”

I shut the door, then powered down the technical area. When I left, I typed in a code at the door, changing the availability sign to closed.

X-37 accosted me as I strode toward an out of the way launch bay where tertiary operations were conducted. “You really are an asshole, Reaper Cain. Amii Novasdaughter is one of your best and most loyal friends. You saved her life when she was just a girl, and tried to save her mother. That should mean something. Are you certain sacrificing that bond is appropriate? You barely know Jude Carnax and his people.”

“They need my help.” I crossed into an automated security stall and waited for clearance. Time drifted slowly by but that was in my head. I was tuned up from the confrontation with Novasdaughter and inevitable shouting match with Elise. And all my friends, probably.

Void dust, I was a freaking jerk.

“What is taking so long, X?” I pushed the door button several times.

“This security checkpoint is also an airlock. Mechanisms need to be reset,” X-37 said.

“There hasn’t been decompression of the ship. It shouldn’t take this long.”

“Patience, Reaper Cain. I will attempt to speed up the process.”

I paced, wishing I could throttle my LAI. “You could have this door open in half a second.”

“Correct, but I am dragging my feet to minimize your bad decision,” he said.

I locked my feet in place, gripped my forehead to keep from exploding with frustration. “You’re filibustering me? That won’t change anything and you know it. Get with the program, X.”

“Oh, but it will, Reaper Cain. I believe the door is opening,” X said.

I stormed through, thoroughly pissed off and more determined than ever to embark on my solo mission.

The Maglan Jackpot wilted off to one side of the flight deck, pieces missing, wires hanging out of panels from an unfinished repair project. On the other side of the deck, the Jellybird gleamed brighter than ever before. Tom had given her a total overhaul and the first real paint job since I’d first seen the ship on Dreadmax.

Elise, Tom, and all the others stared me down. Novasdaughter stood massaging her wrists and giving me the evil eye. A contingent of Maglan officers watched with grim expressions.

“What the actual fuck?” I blurted.

“My generals, civilian advisors, and most of my personal friends claimed you wouldn’t follow my orders, not even when they were easy,” Elise said.

“What the hell is easy about leaving good men and women to die in a faraway star system,” I shot back, bitter at being tested by freaking strangers.

She took a long time to answer. “Nothing.”

A man I didn’t know stepped forward. “He’s useless to the Maglan Fleet. Strip him of his rank and send him off to do whatever he does. We don’t need his kind of leader.”

“Check yourself, Icarus,” Elise said. “You made your point, but you’re still clueless.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” General Icarus said.

“The Reaper is doing exactly what I wanted, and what I expected him to do. Look at the Jellybird and the crew I’ve assembled. What did you think all of this was for?” she asked.

Icarus stiffened. His parade perfect uniform accentuated his character. “We’re here to prove he is unreliable.”

“I always intended to send him to rescue Carnax and his Destroyers. We need every ally willing to fight the Oroth forces and the Dark Triumvirate Alliance. I’m pissed your coalition made me jump through all these hoops, but I take your point. Halek Cain is single-minded to a fault, only good for direct action missions. Nobody knows that better than me. And guess what, I wouldn’t be here if not for that exact character flaw. We can discuss this again when you’ve been rescued from a Union prison ship.”

Icarus seethed but said nothing. A vein grew on one side of his forehead, accentuating his receding hair line. Elise hadn’t made an ally of this man.

“I will use a sword to do a sword’s work,” Elise said, stepping away from the man and his entourage. “Tom, Bug, Path.” She hesitated a beat. “And Tank, you will assist the Reaper in his mission to secure the JFT Destroyers, and all other allies who will fight for our cause. Take the Jellybird. She’s fully equipped and ready to go. This is a stealth mission, not a direct attack on our enemies. Do not disappoint me.”

I moved close to Elise, then spoke in a low voice. “Thanks, kid. I wish you were going with us.”

“Me too,” she said. “When this war is over, I’m retiring. Might even go renegade and have some fun.”

“You can’t go renegade against your own government,” I said. “But if you do, I’m all in.”

“Good, Reaper. Now bring back the Destroyers. I need your full attention. You’re useless to me when you’ve got a wild hair up your ass. I’m not kidding. Do this and be ready to work when you get back. I need someone at my side. Icarus and his cabal are growing more difficult after each battle,” she said. “Don’t glare at him. Let him think you don’t know what a pain in my ass he is.”

I fist bumped her and marched toward the Jellybird. Tom, Bug, Path, and Tank followed me.

“Reaper,” Novasdaughter said. “Wait up.”

I stopped on the ramp, saying nothing until she was right next to me. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep while you’re on the ship looking for payback.”

“What, you think I’ll smother you with a pillow?” She made a thoughtful face. “It’s an idea. Nah, too much paperwork. But I do owe you a stint in hand restraints. Paybacks are a bitch.”

“Great,” I said. “Can’t wait.”

8

Jelly blasted away from the fleet, slipping into stealth mode on the fly. Tom and Bug chatted about a book they were both reading. Path and Novasdaughter meditated on the small observation deck. Tank lifted weights in the gym, because he obviously needed to get even bigger.

I watched the star maps and tried not to think.

Elise was under pressure. She didn’t need idiots like Icarus and his followers second-guessing her. That was my initial thought, but what did I know about the Maglan Fleet. He wasn’t wrong about my personality or my life choices. Straight into the shit, that’s where I always went—usually without thinking it through.

“We’re approaching the first slip tunnel, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Thanks.” I sipped coffee and felt content. If Elise were here, I might just take the Jellybird and head someplace new, carve a life of adventure and exploration out of the future.

“What are you reading?” Jelly asked as we entered the tunnel.

“Haven’t had time,” I said, wishing I was caught up with Tom and Bug. All they talked about was this adventuring archeologist and his starship crew. Sounded cheesy, but I was intrigued.

“Would you like me to read aloud? The tale is quite interesting, if I understand human story tropes,” Jelly said.

“Why the hell not?” I settled deeper into my chair, coffee cup in one hand, as I ground through mundane ship tasks—checking logs, updating entries, and clearing out old databases. Jelly’s skill at narration was amazing. “You’ve got talent, Jelly.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

The rest of my shift passed easily. Bug and Novasdaughter relieved me, neither of them talking much.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Not at all,” Novasdaughter said.

Bug held up one finger. “Actually, she’s still pissed.”

“That’s fair,” I said, not expecting the admission to gain my absolution.

Which was good because it didn’t.

“We’ve got it for a few hours,” Bug said.

I went to my quarters, cleaned up in the micro shower, and drank a beer. By the time I was climbing into the bunk, I was ready for some serious snooze time. I rarely thought about how compact the Jellybird was until I spent time on a capital ship like Maglan’s Hope.

“You are needed on the bridge,” X-37 said.

“Of course I am.” Scenarios ran through my head as I dressed and hurried the short distance.

Tom was there when I arrived. “Jelly captured a suicide drone that latched on to her hull.”

The rest of the crew crowded around the entrance.

“How’d she do that?” I asked.

Novasdaughter answered. “Once it started cutting into our antenna array, Jelly rushed it with maintenance bots rather than waiting for us to assemble. The drone hadn’t anticipated the tactic. It seemed ready to self-destruct if a crew member came after it in an EVA.”

“Where is it now?” I asked.

“We need someone to climb out there and drag it back to a special containment cell we prepared,” Novasdaughter said.

I gave them a blank stare.

“What?” Novasdaughter asked.

“You just said trying to capture it in EVA gear was bad.” They weren’t understanding my lack of excitement.

“The drones neutralized it, for now. It can’t stay where it is. We don’t have a better option.” She stood shoulder to shoulder with my friends. I could imagine Jelly, and even X-37, on her side as well.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” I asked.

“No reason.” Novasdaughter’s sly look should have been a warning. “I need someone to help me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Please.” My cocky reply was too quick. What had she said about payback being a bitch?

She slapped me on the shoulder and headed for the door, squeezing past me in the confined area of Jelly’s bridge. “Excellent. Let’s gear up.”

Tank followed. “I need to test my setup.”

Like everything else lately, it became a competition. I put on my Archangel-Obsidian armor in record time, careful not to twist the hard skin I had escaped for less than two days.

Tank finished second, which was surprising given the ponderous nature of his equipment.

“Oh look, a Tank in a tank,” I said, then hopped back to avoid a punch.

Novasdaughter made final adjustments, careful to align the micro-fighter plug-ins. “We have three of them locked to the exterior—the way they were designed to be transported. Icarus and his meddlers wanted them packed in crates and left in storage until we needed them. Call me crazy, but I like to be ready for anything.”

“Micro-fighters are useful. But I hope we don’t use them.” I said. “Not in the deep void. On a planet or near a space station, sure. They’re cool as hell.”

“You’ll get no argument from me. Not everyone likes the idea of climbing outside to launch a fighter,” she said. “But you’re fearless, of course.”

I stopped short of the airlock.” You understand why I did what I did, right? It wasn’t personal.”

“I’m not going to push you into the void to get even,” she said. “That would be excessive.”

I watched her sideways. “You’re not making me feel better. That look…”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t fantasizing about pushing you into the void, but then I’d have to go save your butt. And I’m a professional. Mission first, personal vendettas later.”

“Are you two finished?” Tank asked, then went first into the airlock. We followed and waited for it to cycle.

I never enjoyed spacewalks, no matter how many I did. Humans weren’t made for the void. State of the art equipment was little comfort.

“X, give me an update on the suicide drone. Will it cause you, and by that I mean us, problems once we are out there?” I asked.

“Jelly and I have it under control,” X-37 said.

I shared the news with Tank and Novasdaughter. They gave me the thumbs-up, and we climbed outside, carefully attaching ourselves to the exterior before pressing forward.

Jelly was an old ship by anyone’s standard. With the risky missions this type of light vehicle was used for, they rarely lasted long and were always patched back together from getting boarded or stolen or crash landed on strange alien planets. Tom and the others had really cleaned her up.

Her exterior was smoother than normal, every piece in its place and perfectly optimized. I stepped over a heat sink, noticing that it retracted before I reached it. “Thanks, Jelly.”

“Any time, Captain,” the ship AI said.

We kept moving, carefully searching for the obstruction clinging to the ship like an insect from the void. I saw it first and signaled the others to spread out and surround it.

A new voice whispered in my ear, low and raspy. “I see you, Cain Reaper. I see you very well. Your name is death. The universe is death. You are the universe.”

“Is anyone else hearing this?” I asked almost too casually. “This thing is freaking me out.”

“No.” Novasdaughter tapped the side of her helmet several times to make sure everything was working. “What am I missing?”

“I think the drone is messing with me and X,” I said.

“I’m here, Reaper Cain.” X-37 duplicated his words with anticipated HUD messages and haptic vibrations, something I knew he could do but hadn’t experienced since awakening from the cryo-pod. “One moment.”

I held up one fist to signal Novasdaughter and Tank to freeze. We waited silently. The void loomed all around us like an unforgiving master. Path’s breathing techniques calmed me before I realized I was using them. Maybe that meant I was making progress with meditation training. Now was a fantastic time for the benefits to show.

Even a Reaper got lucky once in a while.

“Go now, Reaper Cain. Seize the drone and secure it in a magnetically shielded container,” X-37 said.

I rushed across the hull, each step feeling like the one that would trip me into the void. “Will that incapacitate it?” I asked as magnets clicked and released on the metal hull with each step.

Novasdaughter hurried forward on my left, ready as always. I regretted not trusting her. Locking her in that room hadn’t been my best move. How could I make things right? Or could I?

Tank lagged behind with his comms off.

“I need an update on Tank, and you haven’t answered my question about drone containment.”

“I’m busy, Reaper Cain.” X sounded far away, and I could hear the insane ghost voice shrieking in the background.

“Cain Reaper! Death! Death! Death! We must die with you!” The suicide drone’s rant devolved into beeps and pauses.

“What’s happening, Hal?” Novasdaughter asked when we knelt over the drone. “Your LAI doesn’t have me on the channel. And what is Tank doing. He’s off channel, but I’m sure he did that himself.”

“X and the suicide drone LAI are having an argument or something,” I said. “The thing is crazy. I’ll explain later. Tank is Tank. Probably got butt hurt over something he will never explain.”

Novasdaughter and I unfolded tool blankets while the big Reaper clone moved methodically closer to our position. Every item was secured with Velcro and magnets. I liberated a crowbar and went to work.

Novasdaughter matched my effort on the other side of the device but with a blow torch. “Careful, Reaper. You don’t have to tear everything up. Tom finally put this ship back together.”

“Look who’s talking, Miss Blow Torch.” I ripped off what looked like a metal insect leg and flung it away.

“You’re mean! You hurt my corporeal form!” shrieked the suicide drone LAI. “Make me explode! Kill me all the way! Blow up this ship with my body! For death and glory!”

“Shit, Reaper. You’re right about this thing being crazy,” Novasdaughter said.

“You heard that?” I asked, going for another leg.

“Unfortunately,” she said, then increased the power to her cutting torch. “Should I just slice it apart?”

“Please do not, Amii Novasdaughter,” X-37 said. “Jelly and I wish to capture this abomination and interrogate it.”

“Anything for you, X.” She worked more carefully.

The LAIs battled beyond our sight or hearing. Novasdaughter and I struggled to separate the surprisingly rugged drone from the Jellybird. The device was slightly bigger than Tank in his mismatched armor.

“What was your plan to get even?” I asked as I labored. “Not really the right time or place for paybacks. Just saying.”

She shrugged. “No plan yet, but I was hoping for inspiration. Thought I could at least keep you worried.”

“So you’re not that mad at me.” It was worth a try. We were bonding through a dangerous mission. Everything would be okay. She was probably over my little faux pas already.

“It’s the principle of the matter.” She peeled back one of the legs, then spot welded it to the body of the drone, immobilizing the limb. “Try not to throw away any more pieces. If they’re trying to interrogate it, they might want to analyze the construction techniques and materials.”

“Principle? How is saving brave soldiers wrong?” I asked.

“I’m all for that, and you know it.”

I pressed my advantage. “And you were setting me up. Total entrapment.”

“Please.” She waggled the torch flame at me. “Don’t play the innocent victim with me.”

The drone lashed out with two of its legs. I ducked as one swiped over my head. The second strike caught Novasdaughter on her chest plate, smashing her from the ship.

I hooked an emergency cable, jumped after her, and sailed away from the Jellybird as I hoped my line would hold.

“Reaper!” she shouted.

“Where’s your cable?” I stretched my arms toward her. The velocity of my jump wasn’t overtaking her fast enough. My cable would reach its limit before I caught her.

“It was attached!” she complained. “This crazy freak drone unhooked me.”

I let my chastisement drop, since I hadn’t hooked in until needed. Fortunately, I didn’t have a supervisor to give me a bad safety rating on my next performance evaluation.

“Take my hand.” I stretched every part of my body, willing myself forward, wishing I had booster jets installed. She’d be lost in seconds. Jelly would find her if I failed. Sure she would. It would just take time—and I was sure the suicide drone wouldn’t complicate the rescue operation…

Novasdaughter twisted in mid-flight, hand reaching for mine. The fingers of our gauntlets intertwined. I pulled myself forward and grabbed her arm with my other hand. She seized hold of my armor. My safety cable snapped taut, yanking us around violently.

SD-1 laughed insanely, dominating our shared channel.

I looked back to observe one of its legs unhooking my line with almost delicate precision.

“This is bullshit,” Novasdaughter said when she saw what was happening.

“Agreed.” I sent Jelly our tracking markers as the safety line went slack.

“On my way, Captain,” Jelly said. “Let me circle around to prevent your disappearance into the void.”

“You should have some time before running out of air,” Tom said. “I’m monitoring your situation. Tank is finishing your work with the drone body.”

“He can’t speak for himself?” I asked.

“Apparently, he is better at blocking LAI voices than you are,” Tom said. “I received one HUD text warning me he would be off comms until the drone was secured inside the prison we built for it.”

“Understood,” I said, then pointed at the Jellybird. “Tank isn’t removing the drone.”

“He’s unlatching two micro-fighters,” Novasdaughter said. “There’s a guy who has his partner’s back. I bet he never locks them in a small room.”

“Whatever. I’m done feeling guilty.”

In zero gravity, Tank handled the first micro-fighter easily, pushing it in our direction.

“That one’s mine,” Novasdaughter said.

“Hey, Tank, what about me?” I asked.

He didn’t respond.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Novasdaughter said. “I’m not petty and resentful.”

“Tank, what the hell?” I threw up the hand not holding Novasdaughter to emphasize my annoyance.

He remained silent on comms, but I thought he looked at me for a few seconds longer than usual.

“I believe one micro-fighter is enough,” X-37 said on our team channel.

Novasdaughter latched onto the exoskeleton-like void fighter, then clicked into it. I watched with mild amazement despite my irritation with the woman. She made it look easy.

“He’s not wrong,” she said. “You will be back in action quicker if I just plop you down with Tank.”

“You know what would make this task easier?” I asked. “Communication.”

“I believe he is avoiding anything that resembles an LAI, including the drone,” X-37 said.

I grabbed Novasdaughter’s wing as she steered close. “Lucky guy.”

“What are you trying to say, Reaper Cain?”

“Hey, slow down,” I said to Novasdaughter, ignoring X.

She laughed. “We’re barely moving.”

“Says the woman in a micro-fighter. You know I hate EVA missions, right?”

We crossed the distance to the exterior of the Jellybird as she met us halfway. If I wasn’t in the middle of it, the scene would have looked tame—about as dangerous as walking.

My feet hit the deck and locked on. Novasdaughter backed up and held station above us. Tank pointed at a pod on the center of the drone, a bump that was barely noticeable.

I spooled out a direct-comm cable and handed it to him. He clicked it into the back of his helmet.

“I’m glad you know what that is,” I said, aware he didn’t have the same training.

“I study my gear, Bio,” he said. “Plus, Tom told me about it during the retrofit. We should have started this way. The suicide drone won’t be able to hack our comms easily. Sucks being tied together though.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“We need to get this right. SD-1 learns fast, maybe faster than your LAI in some areas.”

“Doubtful,” I said. “X has been in operation a long time.”

“Sure, but this thing is focused on fewer things. It uses all of its processing power on a short list of objectives.” He opened his tool kit and checked to be sure everything was magnetically secured before continuing. “That disc is basically the antenna.”

“The bump?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“How do you know that?” I didn’t doubt him but wanted details.

“Because I listen more than I talk,” he said. “Unlike some people I know. When your LAI is crazy, when it’s constantly trying to get you to turn yourself in or kill yourself, you develop a unique set of coping skills.”

I waited for more.

“My LAI and this thing have been going at it since it came in range. They’re always shouting. I’d like for that shit to stop so I can get some sleep.” He handed me a large set of pliers with rubber handles. “Most of what they say is binary code, chirps and beeps. But if you know how to listen, you can learn a lot. I even convinced my LAI to summarize what he had discovered. Felt like a real Reaper for a second.”

His laugh wasn’t cheerful. I held back my sarcastic comments. The guy didn’t have the advantages I took for granted. Scheid’s gene manipulation and other experiments had made him unique, and not always in a good way.

“I’m removing the antenna,” he said. “Take it to Novasdaughter the moment I hand it to you. Amii, fly it away from the ship until the link breaks. Stay out of range until we get the drone body in the shielded storage room.”

“What happens when I come back? Why not just get rid of it?” she asked.

“We will need it to communicate,” Tank said. “One last thing. Don’t talk to your LAI, Bio. Every contact is risky until we get this done.”

“Good call,” I said. “Let’s get after it.”

Tank worked delicately, something that made me chuckle with my helmet muted. Who knew why? Maybe it was witnessing aspects of his personality few people would guess existed.

I liked the guy more than I had five minutes ago, and not just because he figured this out. The man was a decent person when he wasn’t scowling or talking trash. When he wasn’t putting on a show to hide his inner struggles.

“Got it,” he said, raising the dome-like device.

I transferred it to the underside of Novasdaughter’s micro-fighter. She raced away immediately.

Calm spread through my body, and I didn’t know why. X-37 wasn’t helping me with my biometrics, I was pretty sure about that. Nothing about the situation was inherently relaxing.

Tank watched me, his blocky, visor-less helmet oriented my direction for several seconds. The steady bulk of my least favorite copy reassured me. Maybe I needed this spacewalk for reasons I would never understand. The moment made me think of Path and his self-awareness.

He turned back to his work.” We’ve got shit to do, Bio.”

I slipped the pliers he’d given me into a utility box on my armor and lifted one side of the drone. The two of us handled it easily now that it couldn’t broadcast code hacks.

“Be careful, Bio. This thing is sneaky,” he said.

One of its smaller limbs punched me in the visor to illustrate his point. “Should’ve seen that coming.”

“It waits until we lower our guard. I’m not sure locking it inside the ship is the right call,” he said.

“Great. Let me double-check with Tom and Jelly.”

He slashed one hand across his neck area. “Negative, Bio. We have to stay radio silent, remember?”

“Give me a second, Tank.” I decided right then I wouldn’t call him a clone anymore. “I’m having the same doubts you are. Let’s slow roll this. No need to rush to failure.”

Tank rechecked his safety lines and waited. Novasdaughter either sensed we had gone radio silent for a reason or was just waiting to give us a tongue lashing when we finally brought her into the conversation.

“Are you with me, X?” I asked.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Going forward, I will display a skull icon with a line through it whenever I am dealing with the suicide drone,” he said.

“Good call, X. Run a second analysis of our plan to keep the drone physically contained inside the ship.” I waited as patiently as possible, which wasn’t saying much. My earlier mood rapidly dissolved. Far from content, all I wanted now was action.

“Three hundred reviews of our current plan have revealed no other options,” X-37 said.

“What if we can confine it in an airlock instead,” I said. “That would make it easier to eject.”

“Reviewing modification to the plan,” X-37 said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because I’m smarter than you?”

“That is highly doubtful, Reaper Cain. Please remove your hard link from Tank’s helmet and attach it to the next ship antenna. I would like to speak with Jelly directly,” X-37 said.

Tank watched me suspiciously as I redid the link.

“X needs to talk to Jelly. I suggested we rig up an airlock as a containment cell,” I said.

His eyes lit up with appreciation. “Good idea. Let’s do it.”

I waited until the drone started to fidget and then made my own decision. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of my void walk. The sooner this thing was locked up, the better. “X, we’re doing this. If you’ve got an objection, now’s the time.”

“Any response?” Tank asked.

I shook my head, then went to work while waving for Novasdaughter to land. Once she was down, I explained what we needed to do.

“I’ll go inside and get things ready. Tom and the others should be able to make the changes quickly,” she said.

Tank and I moved the drone to the small secondary airlock we rarely used. Waiting sucked, but we were ready to do our part.

The door slid open. Novasdaughter leaned out and gave us the thumbs-up. We dragged the metal creature inside and bolted it down until it was practically part of the deck.

I stood back and dusted off my gauntlets. “There’s nothing like the satisfaction of a job well done.”

“Agreed, Bio,” Tank said. “I'm heading to my room for a nap.”

Novasdaughter, Tom, and Path watched him go. I almost said something in his defense but decided against it. What was the chance he spoke up for me when I did stupid shit?

Freaking zero.

“I don't think I'll ever figure that guy out,” Novasdaughter said. “But he does good work when it suits him. Glad we had him with us.”

“Me too.”

9

I joined Tom on the bridge and gave him a blow-by-blow of what had happened. He'd seen some of it through cameras, but the suicide drone had interfered with everything.

“It played random videos from our archives, including cartoons and music videos when I least expected them,” Tom said. “It took Jelly and I some time to work out a filter and by then you were at the airlock door. I left Bug on the bridge and ran down there with Path to help get things ready. Once I saw where you were, and noticed Amii hurrying inside, I put two and two together.”

“Direct comms would've made things easier.” I checked notes from X-37, a mundane task that helped me avoid embarrassing mistakes. “What other resources do we have for this mission?”

Tom pulled up a list of assets on a flat screen. “The captured suicide drone will have the best information on our current enemies. We’ve named it SD-1 for simplicity. Elise made sure the Jellybird was stocked up with all the basics, plus some new technology. I've been going through it and making a list of what you might like.”

“Color me intrigued. Anything so far?” I asked.

“Most of it is engineering stuff and ship mods, but I did see there is quite a stash of whiskey, cigars, and dark beer in one of the smuggler’s hiding holes,” Tom said.

“Now we’re talking.”

“I have completed my analysis of the suicide drone’s information,” X-37 said. “Whoever coded this was quite deranged. I will give them credit, no matter how alien the binary patterns appear on the surface. The simplicity of this device’s mandate should be chilling, or an organic entity.”

“It wants to blow up and kill us all,” I summarized. “Anything we can use?”

“Yes. There is an entry referencing Commander Jude Carnax of the JFT Destroyers.” X-37 posted his full report in my HUD with a clickable link that could expand the information for more intensive review. Apparently, my LAI thought I was going to be that bored. “He is alive, though injured at the time of the data collection. A portion of his unit was… disposed of. I could go into detail, but you get the point.”

“Should've gone after them sooner,” I muttered.

Tom leaned forward like he was talking to a person. I could almost see him trying to distract me from darker thoughts. “X, does that leave a viable fighting force? We’re going to help them either way, but I know there are practical considerations for the survival of the Maglan fleet.”

“My analysis suggests that even a single squad of these JFT Destroyers will be critical to General Hastings,” X-37 said. “There were five stolen Oroth cruisers taken by the special operations forces classifying themselves as Destroyers loyal to Carnax. Two of these vessels survived the battle but are in possession of Scheid's Obsidians. As for personnel, they could fully crew one of these vessels and operate the second on a skeleton crew if they were liberated and the ships were somehow recovered.”

“Do you have their location?” I asked.

“Of course,” X-37 said.

“Jelly, plot a course. I want to stand off when we get there. Find us someplace to hide where we can conduct surveillance and raids if necessary,” I said.

“Of course, Captain. This will require three slip tunnel crossings,” Jelly said. “I have cross referenced the data gathered from the suicide drones with our known star maps. We know where we're going for once.”

“Do you have information on these systems?” I asked.

“They are extremely lawless and barely inhabited,” Jelly said. “One had a thriving civilization that was crushed and then cannibalized by the Oroth fleet. It seems that whoever resisted in that sector refused to surrender.”

“A useful takeaway is the measurement of how far the Oroth Council will go to dominate their vassals,” X-37 said. “I'm creating a special file to brief General Hastings. She will need this information when planning the future of her war against them.”

“Good work. I'm glad to have the best LAI and ship AI in this entire region,” I said, meaning it more than I realized when I had spoken the words. “Since I'm just a Reaper, give me the short version of where they are keeping the Destroyers.”

“They are currently in the Zakion system on the way to Oroth for torture and execution,” X-37 said.

* * *

A fist pounded on my door. Half awake, I stared in confusion. I knew what the noise meant but couldn't imagine any scenario where it would be necessary. Jelly or X-37 had more effective methods of rousing me.

I rolled out of bed, crossed to a dark corner, and scanned the room for threats. No suicide drones, large or small, presented themselves. I checked the HUD to make sure my LAI hadn't issued some type of warning. It wouldn't be the first time X had been silenced and had been forced to get creative with communication.

Nothing. I tentatively reached for my digital friend. “Are you there, X?”

“I am, Reaper Cain. What is that infernal racket? I don't believe there is a breaching team on the ship and can see no reason why they would be attempting to force entry into your cabin,” he said.

“Someone's knocking. Probably Tank,” I said and moved to the viewscreen. I activated it and saw the modified Reaper clone glowering into the camera.

“Wake up, sleepy head. We've got a problem,” he said.

I opened the door, then went to find a cigar.

“You're going to start with that? What happened to yawning and getting a glass of water or something healthy,” he said.

“You're my health coach now?” I asked.

“Fuck off. The suicide drone is making a lot of noise in the airlock. I didn't want to risk comms. Came here to talk to you face-to-face,” he said.

“You're not in your armor,” I said, considering whether or not I should hit the armory to gear up.

“That takes a lot of work. And I can't fit through all of the doorways in the Defender gear,” he said. “Let's just go check it out. Unless you're scared.”

“Terrified. Good thing you're here to watch over me.” I strapped on a pistol and slung my D3D over my back. One sharp tug on the strap would pull it forward—right into my hands. Tweaking the simple device had taken a few tries but was working. “It’s nice traveling light.”

“Agreed.” Tank retreated into the hall. I joined him, and we headed toward the backup airlock. “Though to be fair, you’re never really without armor. Freak.”

“Don’t be jealous. Maybe Jag or his sister can get you some hard skin.”

He growled something under his breath, and I let the topic go.

“X, contact Bug and Path,” I said. “I want them as backup. Don’t go into detail. Tank thinks comms are too dangerous.”

There was a pause while my LAI checked his digital back trail and generally avoided the suicide’s drones constant signal hacking.

“They’re on the way.” X-37 turned his attention to SD-1. “Our guest has run out of subtle options and is ramming the clone body against the airlock door.”

“Which door, the one leading inside or the one opening to the void?” I asked, picking up the pace.

“It alternates,” X said. “You should be able to hear it.”

The hallway was short and narrow, once a smuggler’s hold. The panels vibrated from whatever was slamming against the blast door at the end. Ethereal shrieks accompanied the assault.

“I don’t see a way to bolster the blast door,” Tank said. “He will escape eventually.”

“We’ll need to station guards,” I said. “That’s going to suck with a small crew.”

The violence ceased.

“Talk to me, X. What is it doing?” I asked.

“It spotted me and wants to talk,” X said. “Jelly, refine our containment programming and send Tom welding directions. The airlock needs to become an impermeable wall—sad to say.”

“This thing is going to be more trouble than it’s worth,” I complained.

“Let’s force it out of the airlock and blast it with ship guns,” Tank said.

“No. We must die together,” SD-1 whispered via comms. “We’re all friends here, right? I can say that? Teamwork makes the dream work. Do you want to see my boom? Death boooooooms are tight!”

“It cannot carry out this threat,” X-37 advised. “Jelly has successfully interfered with the detonation sequence.”

“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we take it apart and be sure,” I said.

“Not advisable, Reaper Cain. But if that becomes necessary, I suggest you find someone expendable to attempt it.”

Tank narrowed his gaze. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one with explosive ordnance disposal training.”

“That was a basic EOD course, and it was a long time ago,” I shot back. The public channel wasn’t operating and neither were external speakers. “How are you hearing my LAI?”

“I have included a proximity connection with his LAI,” X-37 answered.

Tank gave me a look I’d never seen him give. The guy looked like a recruit seeking leadership—or maybe a lifeline. I thought he resented this sudden change, and it took me a moment to realize what had just happened.

“My LAI has never gone silent,” he said. “Normally, it demands I return to base, to Scheid’s custody.”

“X-98 has been surprisingly helpful,” X-37 said.

A new voice spoke. “We cannot perform our duty to Lord Scheid if the suicide drone destroys us, Shock Trooper Tank.”

“He’s never called me that before,” Tank said. “Normally it’s just a number.”

“X-98 has faced his death in a new and surprising way,” X-37 said. “The suicide drone attempted to highjack Tank’s nerve-ware.”

The drone body resumed its assault on the door.

“It really wants inside,” I said. “And it wants to die. It might be time to launch it—after we disable its ability to navigate.”

“Blast it with ship guns,” Tank said almost casually. “What do you think of that idea, X-98?”

“Survival is ideal. By all means, destroy the foul bundle of code,” X-98 said.

I signaled X-37 with questions. “Not sure I like this LAI party line. Don’t trust X-98, and it feels like we’re leaving the door open for SD-1.”

The hammering stopped.

“Something has changed,” X-37 said. “SD-1 ceased its rant. I suggest we conclude this mission and get our prisoner back to a proper warship for containment.”

“Let’s post a guard on this door with codes to open the exterior door if it gets frisky,” I said.

“I’ll go first,” Tank said, then looked at me like an uncertain sibling. “Will my LAI behave, X-37?”

“We have developed a rapport. I will warn you if SD-1 is attempting to hack your LAI,” X-37 said.

“Not good enough. I’ll send Bug or Path to relieve you,” I said.

Tank nodded without a single insult or joke. He looked like a man adrift. His understanding of the universe had received a hard blow. His LAI had never done anything to help him, and now that seemed like a possibility.

10

Novasdaughter returned from her inspection, striding onto Jelly’s bridge with a concerned look. “I don’t like that drone. The sooner we get rid of it, the better.”

I didn’t disagree but didn’t feel like another discussion. X-37 assured me the information he was mining from SD-1 was worth the risk. Good enough for me.

Novasdaughter reviewed my logs, calming herself with routine activities—navigation checkpoints, detailed inspections of the ship, and all the minor details of space travel.

I ran my cybernetic finger over the screen holding my attention and waited for the right moment to share what I’d found—location details of Carnax and other prisoners. Caution wasn’t wrong, merely unfamiliar to someone like me.

“Have a look at this once you’re settled in,” I said.

She finished her start-of-shift log entry, then pulled up the screen. Her eyes tracked back and forth as she studied the star maps and notations. “This is in the Zakion system. Godsdammit, you should have told me about this earlier. We can’t fly into the mouth of the leviathan.”

“Why not? The Jellybird is in better shape than ever,” I said. “I’m not saying it will be easy, but we’ve faced worse odds.”

“Rampaging across the Oroth system will get us captured.” She fidgeted with the keyboard. “Elise will wish she was here.”

She was right. More to the point, I already wished the kid general was part of this mess.

* * *

“Stand by,” Jelly said. “We are about to leave the final slip tunnel.”

Tension filled the bridge. Talking about the Zakion system and actually entering it were two different things. Oroth forces would be everywhere. Jelly would remain in stealth mode for as much of this adventure as possible.

Tom and Novasdaughter were on the bridge. The engineer monitored engines and power output. Novasdaughter handled navigation, something I could do fairly well. She handled everything to do with void navigation far better. Once we were in the Zakion system, things could happen fast.

Bug, Path, and Tank were geared up and ready in the cargo bay to repel boarders or deploy as needed.

The Jellybird felt solid, in better condition than ever before. There was no one to bail us out if we failed, which was comforting. Maybe I really was deranged. Our situation felt like freedom, and I liked it.

“System data is coming in,” Novasdaughter warned.

Tom joined in. “Looks like a lot of information.”

I gripped the armrests of my chair. My LAI added to their assessment.

“A visual representation of this scan will populate the holo-display momentarily,” X-37 said. “I can confirm Tom is entirely correct with his assessment. There is a lot going on here.”

A bright red dot appeared in the green zone from the system's star. Oroth. Two moons appeared around it, and then hundreds of satellites, ships, and space stations. The labels jumbled together and were hard to read, there were so many.

I lifted the cigar but didn't light it. All of my attention was on the display. What I was seeing reminded me of Union space near the capital.

Every planet in the system, whether inhabitable or not, grew ship and station icons. The more that appeared, the faster they came. Before long, we were looking at a wall of light.

“How is that even possible?” I asked, remembering how I'd been told the Sovereignty of Oroth drew their legions from billions of citizens. I remembered too late that only a fraction of their population were citizens. “No wonder they're trying to conquer everybody. They’ve got some sort of population explosion problem.”

My attention fell on random ships marked with caution codes. Using my private terminal, I zoomed in to satisfy my curiosity and found the ships were like larger versions of Dreadmax, the difference being that they look completely functional as maneuverable super ships.

I wanted to ask what those were even for, but X-37 interrupted my thoughts.

“Please direct your attention to the eighth planet from their sun, the gas giant known locally as Moon Gatherer. Fifteen of the planet's orbital bodies are habitable with minimal terraforming. Also significant is the prison station orbiting among these unique satellites.”

“Is that where Carnax and the others are being held?” I asked.

“Yes, reaper Cain. I searched SD-1’s database, and also performed a rather artful interrogation, if I do say so,” X-37 said. “Locally known as the Station of Lost Souls, or Lost Souls for short, it currently houses Carnax, his Destroyers, and numerous other military prisoners accused of war crimes and treason.”

“Shall we head that way, Captain?” Jelly asked.

“Absolutely.” I was ready to rescue our friends and get the hell out of this place before we were overwhelmed.

Novasdaughter and Jelly worked on the course, picking the safest way to cross the system undetected. Tom recruited Bug to help them with another inspection of the ship.

“You can never be too sure,” he said. “We won't have time for this when our lives start spinning out of the slip tunnel.”

“That phrase means a lot more after seeing it happen in reality,” I said.

Tom grimaced and nodded in agreement as he went to work.

I excused myself to the observation deck and smoked a cigar. My mind wrestled with scenarios, constantly working up ways we could get killed or captured. I ignored questions like whether Carnax would do the same for me.

“Your biometrics indicate serious concern for this mission,” X-37 said.

“You got it in one, X.” I blew a perfect smoke ring. The sight of it rising toward the ceiling should have reassured me.

“There haven't been so many variables to process for a long time,” X-37 said. “Our missions prior to the Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison often occurred in systems of this complexity. We’ve been far beyond Union space and the Deadlands for a long time.”

“That's a big part of it,” I said, still unsure why I was worried. Apprehension before a mission was common. Something about what faced us had my hackles up. “How much time do we have before we reach Lost Souls?”

“Twenty-seven hours at our current speed,” X-37 said. “Jelly and Novasdaughter have determined we can't go any faster without risking detection.”

“I'm going for a run, and then maybe a nap,” I said.

“Double-checking your biometrics now.” X-37 displayed his findings as he measured my heart rate, blood pressure, and blood pH levels, among other things. “Running has never been your go-to mode of relaxation.”

“That's what Elise would do,” I said without thinking.

“You wish she was here, helping you with this mission.” X-37 minimized the data displayed on my HUD, which made me think he was focusing on my words rather than my biometrics.

“You know me too well, X.”

“That is a large part of my job, Reaper Cain.”

“What's the rest of it?” I asked. “Just curious.”

“Stopping you from getting yourself killed and scanning your environment for things you missed.” X-37 never missed a beat. His answers came as quickly as ever.

I made my way to the gym, activated the treadmill, and started jogging. The force of my strides turned the device. I set an aggressive pace long before I was warmed up and hoped I didn't hurt myself. This body was young, something I often forgot. In my head, I was still the same Reaper who had rescued a kid from the cage in Dreadmax.

“She's a general now,” I said aloud. “When this is done, she’ll probably be their president or whatever.”

“You cannot, in fact, predict the future, Reaper Cain. My analysis suggests it is okay for you to pretend that everything will go back to normal, and that you and your close friends can adventure across the galaxy without so much responsibility,” X-37 said.

I stopped talking. Pushing the pace even harder, I found that delightful zone of self-induced misery that prevented me from thinking too much. When it was over, I took a long shower, occasionally leaning beyond the recycled water flow to swig a dark beer and puff on a Maglan Continental.

The most amazing part of this ritual was when I hit the bunk. Sleep came before my eyes were completely closed.

* * *

I almost panicked when I woke up naturally—no alarm, no urgent message from X-37, and no one slamming their fist on my door. Oversleeping wasn't something I did, especially when we were on a mission.

“Relax, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I was just about to rouse you. We are approaching the Lost Souls space station. Novasdaughter has requested your presence on the bridge.”

I threw on clothing and checked my pockets for all the things I normally needed. My gun belt went on last. I took a sword and strapped it across my back. I had returned Path’s father's sword to him but acquired a similar weapon. My go-to blade was part of my cybernetic arm, but the classic sword was nice to have in a pinch.

Tank joined me in the hallway. “Godsdamn, Reaper, it looks like you slept. Color me impressed.”

“Whatever. You can't tell that by looking at me,” I said.

His words were full of mirth. “Oh yeah I can. And the rest of the crew will be able to as well. You were looking like a stepped-on asteroid bug.”

“I don't even know what that is,” I said, ducking into the cockpit sized bridge. “You're a xenobiologist now?”

“I'm pretty sure that word doesn't mean what you think it means.” Tank looked at me, but I was sure he was talking to my LAI. “Back me up, X. Cain is full of crap this time.”

“I cannot back you up as it would violate my loyalty algorithm,” X-37 said. “But my fact checker does suggest that he is misusing the term significantly.”

Novasdaughter came to my rescue. “Hey, we’re on a mission, in case everyone forgot. Focus.”

I took my seat.

Five seconds later, my heart sank. Lost Souls reminded me of Dreadmax, if that hellhole had been well staffed, properly maintained, and designed to be a prison station in the first place. Point defense turrets tracked back and forth. A pair of void fighters patrolled an organized but difficult to predict pattern. Transport ships going to and from the place were held at a considerable distance before being cleared to approach.

Jelly, X, and Novasdaughter agreed with my analysis.

From the doorway, Tank and Bug muttered curses. Tom said nothing, choosing to work on research instead. A glance over his shoulder saw scans of access points and possible interior schematics provided by X-37's hacks into their system.

“Why can't anything be easy?” I asked.

“This is a frequent question without a realistic answer,” X-37 said. “Shall I flag it as hypothetical?”

I didn't answer. The bad feeling was growing worse, yet I knew myself. The more impossible this seemed, the more I would commit to rescuing Carnax and his Destroyers.

“We're going to need a really good plan,” I said.

11

Novasdaughter set up the watch rotation, always keeping someone on the bridge and demanding everyone else rest while they could. I deferred to her judgment. She was a fleet officer. What did an assassin know about such things?

Patience wasn't unknown in my profession. I'd been trained as a sniper and had it drilled into me. Most Reaper missions in the service of the Union had required tons of it. Leading a kill team hadn’t left room for mistakes. I knew how to hurry up and wait even if my misadventures on the way to Maglan had been full of chaos.

None of that provided immunity to the stress of infiltrating an enemy system like this. I got my head straight as I strode toward the bridge. Think about cigars and lazy fall days on Maglan and whiskey with friends. Anything but what is about to happen.

“Sound off when you are in place,” Novasdaughter said. “We’re making our final approach on the Lost Soul detention facility.”

I slid into my seat a moment before Tom found his. Bug, Path, and Tank again took their places in the cargo bay—Archangel armor and modified Defender armor in place. All they had to do to be combat ready was flip down their visors.

The gas giant came into view, materializing from the simulated image to the actual image. I could see moons, some of them inhabitable. The planet didn't have a proper ring like many others of this type, but there was a lot of debris orbiting the colossus.

Each time a sizable moon came into place, Jelly posted surveillance data to let us know which were inhabited. She also gave us information on the many space stations. Some were dedicated to mining or processing gases. Others were shipyards with warships and commercial freighters in various stages of repair.

I was only interested in the prison facilities, Lost Soul in particular.

“That thing is freaking huge,” Novasdaughter said as she worked the controls. The Jellybird slowed to a relative stop, matching the facility's orbit with a precision few ship AIs could duplicate.

“Can we get closer?” I asked.

Novasdaughter studied me. “What's on your mind, Reaper?”

“We should fly in without landing on the deck,” I said, pointing at what I thought was the best area for my plan. “Do it in stealth mode. Get in and out before they know they’ve been Reapered.”

Tom and Novasdaughter swore.

“There is no data suggesting that is possible, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said unhelpfully.

“What do you say, Jelly?” I had that pre-mission feeling in my gut, a mixture of dread and hopeful excitement. I understood the technological limits of stealth mode better than most—and I knew when a tool was underutilized.

“Bay opening one eighty-five is quite large, Captain,” Jelly said. “X-37 hacked into their systems and provided me with their safety protocols and flight control terminology. I must advise you, however, that there are multiple regulations against more than one ship entering at the same time.”

I pulled up notes I’d made on the differences and similarities between my stealth cloak and what Jelly and the Lady Faith II used. Sleep—even my tactical naps—really did shake loose good ideas.

X-37 made no comment on my private HUD scribblings. He’d seen me working them out and hadn’t been impressed then.

Novasdaughter shook her head. “Two ships at once just isn't done unless you're crashing. There really isn’t a need. Sequential landings can be done nearly as quickly and have a much better outcome.” She frowned. “Where would you deploy? Even if Jelly can remain invisible inside of another ship, they'll see you the moment you step out.”

I wanted this to work but couldn't argue effectively. Everything she said was valid. My calculations made sense to me. Would my friends, human and digital, agree?

“In theory, my stealth field could work,” Jelly said, unaware of my thoughts. “James Henshaw has been refining true stealth technology for the Lady Faith II since we met. Lady has always shared her upgrades with me.”

Tom waded into the discussion, shaking his head. “Most ship-based stealth technology only affects enemy sensors. What Henshaw created is more like your cloak, effective even against direct visual contact. But I wouldn't try it unless you had a perfect, almost static environment. I see what you’re thinking, Hal, but this is a huge, untested risk.”

Tank put in his two credit chips worth of advice before I could respond. “Just send the Reaper in by himself, in EVA and his stealth cloak. Easy.”

“And how exactly would Reaper Cain exfiltrate with the rescued prisoners?” X-37 argued.

“All right!” I shouted. “Everybody has an opinion, I get it. Here's what I had in mind. See if you can listen to the end before tearing it apart. But do tear it apart and come up with solutions.”

Everyone waited. I displayed my notes on the main viewer.

“Novasdaughter and Jelly will fly above a transport ship. They won't fit on either side, and they can't go below it because it will eventually land. Problematic,” I said. “Once we're inside, Jelly can hover over a clear section of the deck. I'll deploy with my stealth cloak and create a diversion. Tank, Path, and Bug will make their drop behind the distracted crew, leaving Novasdaughter and Tom to take the Jellybird to a staging area, still in stealth mode.”

“I'm sure it will work exactly like that,” Bug said. “Hate to say it, but I might be with Tank on this one. Let's just chuck the Reaper inside and see what happens.”

Tom nodded along as we tweaked my plan, poking and prodding it in all directions and never quite reaching an agreement on the best way to infiltrate. Novasdaughter put forth a plan to pose as guards and prisoners. Tank wanted to capture an Oroth ship and land it instead of Jelly. I started to think my plan was the worst of all, until weaknesses appeared in everything we came up with. Infiltration missions never got easier.

“There has to be maintenance access,” Tom said.

Everyone stopped talking and looked at him.

“I know that's not very original, but engineering access is always a weakness on a facility this large,” Tom said. “If we had more time, and connections, we might be able to forge fake identities. Isn't that a Reaper specialty?”

“It was back in my Union days,” I said. “Not really an option now.”

* * *

Exhausted from constant debate, I left Novasdaughter, Tom, and Jelly to work on the mode of entry. Bug, Tank, and Path went back to working on armor and weapons while I practiced with my stealth cloak.

“I can still see your feet and your elbows when you move wrong,” Tank said. “Maybe if you squatted down the cloak would cover everything.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Very helpful. That will make moving easy.”

“You cannot wear battle armor if you want to follow your own plan,” Path said.

He was right, but I didn't want to be alone on an Oroth prison station without every advantage I could secure. I tried again, and failed.

“This sucks. We came all this way. I knew a prison would be hard to infiltrate, but the Oroth must have a lot of detainees they believed would attempt to escape. Their security is tight,” Bug said. “I grew up on Dreadmax and thought that was the way all prisons were. But now I know that hellhole was just a bucket of rust.”

“You're not wrong. Unfortunately, I've been in a few prisons. Lost Soul is more secure than most,” I said.

My plan was the only way in, and I knew it. I'd carefully watched each landing bay before pitching my idea. Between ship patrols, sensor sweeps, and their well-maintained point defense guns, I thought it might take a full-scale assault to rescue Carnax and his Destroyers without new levels of trickery.

That definitely wasn't going to happen.

I folded up the stealth cloak and put it in the storage compartment of my Archangel—Obsidian armor next to the Reaper mask and other exotic tools I'd collected over the years. Elise had kept them on the Nightmare, and that foresight might just save all our lives now.

“Are you going someplace?” Tank asked.

“Jelly might not be able to get us inside, but she could take us to the surface. Once we’re down, we can avoid detection the old-fashioned way, by being careful,” I said. “Maybe Tom's right. We won't know until we check for ourselves.”

Bug put aside his work and moved toward me. “We've already done visual surveillance and scans. That's a dead end, just like your plan.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Captain,” Jelly said. “Our timetable has been moved up. X-37 and I just intercepted an announcement. They’re going to execute the JFT Destroyers.”

Bug and the others stared at me, ready for a decision. I stripped off most of my Archangel armor, opting for a split second modification to my original plan. With just the chest plate and greaves, I thought I could make the cloak work. Either way, the mission clock was winding down. We had to do something now.

“We’re going with plan A, Jelly. Take us in. I'll be ready in the airlock.” I stepped to the first door and closed it behind me without waiting for Bug or the others to agree to the plan.

“I will be updating, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Jelly and Novasdaughter will be devoting their entire attention to the rather difficult flight maneuver you assigned them.”

Time passed slowly inside the airlock. I used it wisely, double-checking my eclectic gear selection. As always, the Sethorn hard skin was my foundation—under armor, so to speak. Archangel armor protected my torso while I used an Obsidian belt to hold some of my personalized weapons, pistols and knives mostly.

I slipped on the Reaper mask and pulled the stealth cloak into place. Everything about my vision clarified, and my link with X-37, and Jelly for that matter, strengthened. Why had I gone so long without using this thing?

Because it reminded me of my mother. And using it wrong was dangerous.

“Team Tank, ready,” Bug said. “I'm running lead on this one, but Team Bug doesn't have the same ring to it.”

“Ready on the bridge,” Novasdaughter said. “We're following in a transport. You better be right about this, Reaper, because it's happening.”

I controlled my breathing, faced the exit of the airlock, and resisted the urge to check the stealth cloak again. It would either work or not work. The question was, what would I do about the latter result if it happened.

A green light appeared, indicating the inner door was sealed and I could open the outer door.

“Damn, this is tight,” Novasdaughter said. “I'm cruising right above a beat to hell Oroth freighter. Can’t see the ceiling above me. Cameras weren’t designed for work this close.”

I clenched both hands into fists, squeezing until it hurt, then relaxed and shook them out.

“Doesn't seem like we drew any attention. The ship below us is blocking the view of the deck crew, for now. We still have to watch out for electronic surveillance.”

I opened the exterior door, gaining an up close and personal look at the Oroth freighter Novasdaughter had described. Jelly slowly passed over it until I was staring at stacks of crates on another part of the deck. “I’ve got a spot that looks good. Wish me luck.”

Hopping down gave me a thrill. Striking the ground was less fun as I had underestimated the distance. Ignoring the pain driving through my feet and lower legs, I pulled the stealth cloak back into place. It had flared during my descent.

I moved to the end of the aisle, peeking out at guards and crewmen. “Looks like business as usual. I'll move into a hallway and cause some trouble.”

“Good luck, Reaper,” Bug said.

Tank’s low voice joined the comm channel. “Still say we should have just tossed him in here by himself.”

Novasdaughter overrode the conversation. “Do it quick, Reaper. I can't hold position for long, and Jelly has detected an increasing number of electronic security sweeps. The ship AI, or someone in security, is getting suspicious.”

I glanced back at my friends and saw a blur hovering near the ceiling. With no time to waste, I darted across an open area and into the largest hallway leading away from the flight deck. Heavy duty loaders moved toward the ship, while others went a different direction, burdened by cargo.

I started yanking straps, causing crates full of supplies to fall. Hopefully nothing inside was breakable—or explosive. Workers shouted. Vehicles stopped abruptly. A security team moved to the end of the hallway and stood ready for trouble.

“Time is running out, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I suggest you start throwing grenades.”

Using both my stealth cloak and the relative cover of spilled equipment crates, I lobbed grenades in two directions, timing them to go off two or three seconds apart. The first sounded muted, and I wondered where it had landed. The second threw sparks and debris across the hallway.

Two security teams responded from within the ship while the first team I had seen dropped a blast door, something I hadn't anticipated.

“You won't be able to take this hallway,” I said.

When Bug answered, he was breathing heavily. “We're on the deck and on the move. I don't think anyone saw us drop, but a lot of security is responding to the flight deck. My sensors are lighting up like a festival display.”

“Good enough,” I said, then moved patiently toward a side door. “I'm going to skip out on this party and look for you in the next hallway.”

X-37 put their location in my HUD and provided a simple map of what we knew about the ship so far. I moved quickly but didn't run. The stealth cloak worked best when I made no sudden movements.

“We've got problems, Reaper,” Novasdaughter said. “Looks like I’m the distraction now.”

Bug confirmed. “All the security teams are firing at the Jellybird. Move your ass, Tank. You too, Path.”

“Keep going. According to X, you’re headed my way.” I watched a low-resolution video of Novasdaughter on the bridge of the Jellybird, just for a second. My LAI knew better than to distract me like this.

Novasdaughter flew with one hand and sprayed a fire extinguisher offscreen with the other. Before I closed the video, she put down the fire extinguisher, grabbed a joystick to one of Jelly's meager point defense cannons, and opened fire.

“Where the hell is Tom?” I asked, not expecting Novasdaughter to respond, much less answer. Apparently, X thought she needed to hear my comment.

“Unconscious. We took a hard hit, and he wasn't buckled in,” Novasdaughter said. “Get to work, Reaper. Make this worth the trouble.”

I stepped out of the doorway long enough to catch Bug’s attention, then retreated. The only crew in sight were headed the other direction and unlikely to see us. That didn't mean I wanted to expose myself to security cameras more than necessary.

“Don't wait for us, Bio,” Tank said as they came close. “Take the lead or get out of the way.”

Maybe I didn't care for his tone, but I knew he was right. There was no time to waste. I headed for the next intersection, looked for icons, and turned right. The language was unfamiliar, but I didn't think we'd find what we were looking for in the cafeteria.

The next intersection was even easier. There were three signs at that four-way intersection, not counting the one that pointed in our direction. One showed bars over an icon I didn't recognize. The others showed rows of closed doors, which I assumed meant minimum security.

“This is almost too easy,” Bug said.

“Tell me about it.” I kept my eyes open for trouble, sensing a trap. “X, how's that map coming?”

“You are moving very quickly, Reaper Cain. Additionally, the security of this facility is deceptively complex. I am backtracking to see if I skipped a step.”

I raised my left hand, warning my team to slow down and be on the lookout.

“What's the problem, Bio?” Tank asked.

“My LAI is having problems.” If he were a real Reaper, I could've asked for his X unit to double-check X-37's results. But he wasn't.

We passed through another bulkhead. Blast doors loomed above the threshold, ready to come down and seal off this entire section. I’d rarely seen armor so thick. My entire team slowed, each of us growing even more apprehensive.

“We're pretty deep into this place,” Bug pointed out. “I can't raise Jelly.”

One look confirmed he wasn't alone. “X, tell me you're there.”

“I am, Reaper Cain. And I have located Commander Jude Carnax and the rest of the Destroyers. You're definitely headed in the right direction.”

A side door opened. A tall, strangely built man wearing light armor stepped into view. He seemed to have the frame of a person, all bone structure with little bulk. That wasn't to say he was small. Broad shouldered, long armed, and long legged, he was strangely intimidating—probably because I knew he had a small army to back him up.

I wished I understood why he was hiding them. Theatrics were never a good sign. Neither was the absolute confidence of an enemy.

Tank aimed his rifle at the man. “This guy doesn't give a fra—”

“My name is Colonel Clakion Starfall.” Several Obsidians stepped into view from side rooms and hidden access points. Uniformly built, each man kept his visor closed and said nothing.

“Freaking clones,” Tank muttered.

“These soldiers have little in common with Halek Cain, a fact obvious even when disguised by armor,” X-37 said on the team channel. “Their general proportions are all wrong.”

“Still weird,” Tank insisted. “They’re too alike. Gotta be clones.”

I made a short, chopping motion with my right hand—discussion over. Colonel Clakion Starfall ambled toward me, confident in his superior numbers and home field advantage.

“Get out of our way, Clak,” I bluffed.

An Obsidian without rank insignia opened his helmet, revealing his identical face and expression.

“Are you Clakion too?” Tank said, his tone scornful.

“I am Roos Starfall,” the man said. “Twin of the esteemed colonel.”

“You don’t get a rank?” I asked.

“No need.” His cold eyes told me a lot. Roos was at least as dangerous as his twin, but for different reasons.

“Surrender your weapons,” Clakion said. “This isn’t the time for one of your pointless last stands. I have studied your career, Halek Cain. Baiting you into this trap was disappointingly easy, for sure, but perhaps we can be friends—or at least respectful rivals.”

“Yeah, you don’t know Hal at all,” Bug said. “Or the rest of us. You just want to negotiate because you’re outnumbered.”

I joined in, feeling Bug’s vibe. “Four of us, twenty of you. Wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“Remove your boots, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”

I slipped one foot out before the deck magnetically locked the other boot to the deck. Once secured, I couldn’t loosen it to pull my foot free. “Well shit.”

“Reaper Cain, have you forgotten your resolution to abstain from profanity no matter the situation?” My LAI spoke through a chest plate speaker while he urgently posted warnings on my HUD. Additional squads of Obsidians and Oroth regulars were on the way to reinforce the Starfall brothers.

12

“Tank wishes to know the details of your plan,” X-37 said in my ear. “His exact words were what’s the (profanity redacted) move, Bio?”

I hand-signaled X. “No idea. Open to suggestions.”

“Should I relay that request to the rest of the team, including Tank? His nonverbal communication via his less than cooperative LAI is quite good, despite his lack of training and experience,” X said. “I am sure he will have a novel approach to this situation.”

“He’s been trained,” I signaled. “Not sure he will ever be my go-to guy for good ideas.” Chatting with X was second nature. Most of my attention was on Clak, Roos, and the faceless Obsidians who shared the exact same build as the lanky twins.

“Tank was never trained at your level. Obsidian HC clones are shock troopers. They’re conditioned to fight like demons and kill on command. His advanced skills were earned the hard way—many of them self-taught and practiced obsessively,” X-37 said. “I suggest you either surrender or start killing everyone you can reach. Be warned, however, that your odds of survival are poor. This group of Obsidians shows signs of superior cooperation to anything Scheid has put in the field.”

“Stall,” I signaled. X-37 sent the messages to the rest of my team via their helmets.

“Message delivered. Do not delay longer than necessary. Colonel Clakion Starfall does not seem like a patient man,” X-37 said.

“It’s not Clak I’m worried about.” I focused on his twin, again noticing he lacked rank insignia. Like Clakion, Roos Starfall was tall and gangly. Something about the way he moved warned me he was more powerful than he looked—like his broad but bony shoulders and his long arms and legs possessed hidden strength. The man carried a lot of muscle that didn’t show due to the awkward length of his frame. His armor concealed his physique rather than accentuate it.

Appearing awkward and uncoordinated was no guarantee of being either of those things. Roos Starfall made me think of something a mad scientist had built from discarded body parts. His sunken eyes didn’t make him appear sickly or weak, just… soulless. I’d learned a long time ago that looks didn’t predict athletic ability or the capacity for murder.

I pulled against my locked boot. “I really need this fixed, X.”

“Standing with one boot on and one off while facing a dangerous new adversary is undignified, Reaper Cain,” X said. “Just saying.”

“You told me to take it off!”

“That is a factually correct statement that misrepresents what actually happened. If you had reacted faster and ditched both boots, you could have fled before getting locked to the deck.” My LAI ran new scans as he talked. “Of course you would have been barefoot. Surrender is your only option. Make it work, Reaper Cain. Turn the situation to your advantage.”

“Easier said than done.” X rarely recommended giving up. Five Defenders, another squad of Obsidians, and rank upon rank of Oroth regulars surrounded us. My LAI wasn’t wrong. Surrender was the only play we had.

I raised both hands. Tank glared at me. Bug followed my lead. Path just looked at our captors as Path was wont to do.

“Separate them,” Clakion said. “I need to talk to Halek Cain alone. Be careful with the sword saint. My source claims he has killed more men than the void.”

* * *

“This guy just keeps saying the same thing,” I complained. “Give me the Maglan codes. Tell me General Hastings’s next move. Blah, blah, blah.”

Clakion’s fist struck my face, rocking my head backward. “This Sethorn armor is impressive. Most prisoners would have been dead by now without hard skin.” He summoned Roos closer. “Does he look concussed?”

Roos shrugged. “How will that help us if true?”

“Shut up.” Back turned to his twin, Clakion punched me until he grew tired. I strained against the bonds holding my hands behind my back. Rage muted the pain.

He was right about the Sethorn hard skin. I’d have been screwed without it. Now I was able to endure so much more abuse.

Fantastic.

“No snappy comebacks?” Clakion wiped sweat from his face.

“You hit like a mini bear.” My slurred words lacked coherence.

“Do you even know what that is?” Clakion snorted. “I’m disappointed, Halek Cain. Scheid said you would be dangerous. He claimed you were too strong to be broken.”

“He’s not broken,” Roos interjected.

Clakion whirled on his brother. “Void frak yourself, Roos. I’m only preparing him for the real interrogation.”

“Cut me loose, and I’ll show you how it’s done. Free of charge.” I worried about my friends and the Jellybird. We could get out of this, somehow, but not without casualties—starting with me. Clak was making this personal. We’d never met. I’d never heard of him. Learning what his actual fraking problem was shouldn’t be this hard. Our current dialogue was certainly going nowhere.

“Take action, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Your thoughts are wandering. Biometrics don’t lie. Unconsciousness isn’t a viable strategy. Don’t give up now.”

“You made me surrender,” I slurred.

X sounded indignant. “I presented a suggestion. How was I to know he was a complete psychopath with no capacity for restraint?”

“What’s wrong with your clone army, Clak? Didn’t you plan for Scheid’s wrath?” I guessed. Pissing him off even more seemed like a great idea—one of my best.

The need to laugh for no reason bubbled inside. I was just so done with this day. Total BS.

Veins popped up on the sides of Clakion’s face— not dramatically, but obvious if you knew what to look for, and I did. He clenched his fists and continued pacing like a caged animal. The guy needed anger management therapy in a bad way.

His reaction, but more importantly, Roos’s reaction told me a lot. The calmer twin went cool as a blade, watching me with intensely intelligent eyes. I’d hit the target dead center. They had definitely tried to make their own batch of clone soldiers. Both twins were worried, but in their own way. If they were bold enough to pull a fast one on Scheid, then there was a strong possibility they were as bad or worse than my nemesis.

“That was a lucky guess, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“No, X, I’m just a smart son of a—”

“Shut up,” Clakion sneered.

“That’s not how interrogations work, Clak. You want your prisoner to talk.” I put attitude and disdain in my words. “You don’t have a lot of time. When Scheid finds out you’re running your own clone gambit, it’s game over for you and your copies. Even that one over there.” I thrust my chin at Roos.

Clakion laughed. “You’re not as smart as you think. Roos is my actual brother—a twin, not a clone.”

“Sucks for him if it’s true.”

“It is true!” Clakion snapped. The guy really didn’t like being contradicted.

“If you say so.” I noted two things. Clakion was entirely focused on me, and Roos was smarter, or a better strategist. At least I’d been right about them being biological twins. Now what would I do with that information?

“The void you say!” He pulled back a fist but only feinted. Lips curled back, the fake punch was convincing enough to cause me to flinch. “Not so tough, are you? Just a Reaper coward.”

“Those words don’t go together, Reaper Cain.” X-37 didn’t often soothe my ego, but when he did, his timing was terrible.

“Let me talk to him,” Roos said. “I can free his secrets.”

Clakion paced aggressively. “I’ve got a better idea. Reserve 13. How will his torture resistance training stand up when the worst hunters in the galaxy are eating him alive? He’ll beg for us to save him and tell us anything we want to know.”

Roos said nothing, but I saw impatience in his silent stoicism. He controlled his expression with effort. X-37 observed the same set of clues. The man’s psychology was the polar opposite of his sibling.

“What’s the matter, mini bear got your tongue, Cain?” Clakion laughed at his own joke, then took a swing at my face. I managed to duck sideways at the last second. The miss angered him further, but he didn’t risk a repeat performance.

“Yeah, I’m just so incredibly scared,” I said, realizing I was going at this the wrong way.

“You should be. I’ve been to Reserve 13. Made more kills than any of the citizens, but that’s a different story. You won’t do so well with your cybernetic weapons welded closed.”

“Follow my lead, X,” I subvocalized. “Convince them I’m afraid of his stupid threat.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I should warn you that his threat of closing your Reaper arms is ominous.”

Clakion stomped close, snatched the collar of my torn jacket, and pulled me off-balance. “What are you saying to that godsdamn LAI? Tell me everything, or I’ll have your nerve-ware cut out!”

“Don’t tell them, X!” I hand signaled X to do the opposite.

“Reaper Cain,” X-37 said on the interrogation room speaker. “I would be remiss in my duties to allow this. You will shut down completely in that environment. The last pack of Maglan predators rendered you helpless to their savagery. Such a scenario would make you vulnerable to interrogation.”

“I knew it,” Clakion said, clenching one fist in victory. “Reapers aren’t fearless. Anyone can be brave with cybernetic augmentation. Glorified thugs. They disgust me, and this last Reaper disgusts me more than all the HC clones combined. Prepare a single-use shuttle. Deliver this trash and his confederates to the surface of Reserve 13.

“Right away, Colonel,” a young officer said, then saluted smartly.

Roos waited until his brother calmed slightly. “There’s one thing you must let me do if this is your plan.”

Clakion held his tongue for once but looked like he’d swallowed something sour.

Roos moved close enough to examine me carefully. His attention felt like a spider’s single minded savoring of a prospective meal. “I can remove the hard skin. If this Reaper thinks I’ve never encountered Sethorn technology before, then he is a fool, just like you claim.”

“I already know that. He’s no better than an animal. Primitive, undisciplined, and ruled by instinct. Reserve 13 is the best place for him. I should’ve thought of it sooner,” Clakion said.

“It will be nearly impossible for him to remove the hard skin against your will, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Nearly.” I didn’t like where this was going.

Roos pulled a slim blade from his armor. Electricity and something else, something that reminded me of the Darkness, coursed along the blade. He moved behind me, out of sight. There was no pain at first. The point pried its way through the hard skin protecting my neck.

Pain spread across my real skin—not nearly as bad as I’d feared. Would it get worse? Of fu… fraking course.

X-37 screamed and went silent. Roos showed emotion for the first time, lust for violence forcing his hands to tremble and a low noise to emerge from his throat. My body locked tight as pain increased exponentially. It was a good thing neither of them were asking me questions because I would have told them anything in that moment.

This was what getting skinned alive felt like.

* * *

A pair of Oroth Defenders dragged me by my arms. Facedown, I didn’t see which of them had the honor. I’d fought all five despite the utter futility. Maybe I could have taken one out when Clakion’s army surrounded us. Unarmed and alone, I didn’t have a chance. But of course I started swinging on the assholes the moment my hands were free.

The Defenders dropped me like garbage and backed away slowly as I struggled to my feet. One eye was swollen shut. Every joint in my body felt sprained. My cybernetic hands ached like broken bones. Sharp pain shot up my spine from the unnatural angles I’d been twisted. My dignity hadn’t done any better than my body.

I looked forlornly at the metal plates welded to my Reaper arms. Pain ached into my shoulders as though Clakion’s goons had damaged my actual flesh. Maybe my blade could break through the alloy with enough time and lots of swearing, but so far the restraints worked.

“Walk backward into the shuttle or I’ll assist you,” the Defender said.

I retreated slowly, never breaking eye contact. He had the intimidation advantage with his visorless helmet, but that didn’t mean void dust to a Reaper. Staring into the pinhole camera didn’t have the same effect as looking an opponent in the eyes. I’d never know if he was crapping his pants like most people I’d given the look to.

Whatever. I was done with this circus. Bug, Path, Tank, and two of Carnax’s Destroyers were pushed into their own pods. I tried to signal Bug to rally on the surface of Reserve 13, but the airlock door shut in my face.

“Reserve 13 sounds like a brand of whiskey,” I said, smiling like I would enjoy my new home.

The Defender paused. A laugh rumbled through his speaker. “Have fun with the beasties, Reaper scum.”

The airlock door slid shut. Darkness blinded me.

“These guys are unreal. No lights? Really.” Long periods in dark isolation could be disorienting but affected me less than they affected other people. I’d been through worse in training, and on more than one live operation, unfortunately.

“Perhaps they are conserving electricity, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “It was your idea to escape onto this moon.”

“Hack into this pod’s computer, X,” I said. “Take control if you can.”

“I already did. There isn’t much to see here and no way to steer the life pod. My analysis suggests they will launch it and forget about where it goes.” X ran calculations. “It will take eleven hours to reach Reserve 13, a moon with an environment capable of sustaining life. Day and night cycles are complicated on such a place, of course. It is gravity locked to the gas giant, which is itself orbiting the Zakion star.”

X-37 activated the lights, then slowly lowered their intensity to help put me to sleep. I listened to his lecture, hoping it would distract me from my predicament. He talked. My mind wandered until I realized my error. I had assumed a nature reserve would be like the wilderness of Maglan, a place longed for. When would this odyssey end? Why couldn’t I just disappear into the wilderness and find myself? Live like a hermit until I discovered the meaning of life?

Hostile star systems and strange alien planets were losing their appeal. My new body might be young, but my mind and heart were growing weary. The plates blocking my cybernetic weapons were a real downer as well.

“I am unable to contact the other escape pods,” X-37 said. “Your current mode of conveyance only sends a distress beacon and location marker—both of which have been disabled.”

“Thanks, X. Wake me up before impact,” I said, then strapped into the crash chair for a nap. At the end of the day, I was just a soldier with a unique set of skills, and soldiers knew when to sleep.

* * *

“Time to rise and shine, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said, adding an annoying tone to wake me up. Like I needed that. “One minute remains until this craft impacts the surface of Reserve 13.”

“You mean before I crash land,” I said, checking the safety restraints.

“Yes. Please relax and go with it. The trauma will be less.”

My LAI wasn’t wrong. I used every trick in the book to prepare my body and soul for what was coming, but when the escape pod plowed into the ground, I cursed Clakion Starfall as my new, least favorite enemy.

Safety straps tightened around my chest, waist, and legs as crash pads inflated to fill the small room. A series of violent impacts battered me despite the safety gear. Hitting the ground like this was always so much worse than I feared. Terror never tasted good in a Reaper’s throat. No one knew that better than this Reaper.

“So far, the escape pod is only bouncing. Consider yourself lucky it didn’t roll,” X-37 said.

“Thanks for jinxing us!” I could barely hear my LAI due to the commotion. Everything shook. My eyes couldn’t keep up with my environment’s rapid changes of orientation.

Several impacts later, the pod struck something I couldn’t see—a hill or tree or whatever—and tumbled to a stop.

The inflatable cushions deflated. Safety lights came on. I was pretty sure I hadn’t crapped my pants—mostly because I hadn’t eaten for a while.

A long, almost melodic tone announced that the door was opening. X-37 advised me it was time to leave.

“Can I just lie here a second?” I asked, swallowing the taste of blood.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. How inconsiderate of me. I apologize for not allowing you time to feel sorry for yourself and curse the universe.”

I unstrapped and climbed out of the form-fitting chair. “That’s not what I was doing.”

“No comment,” X said.

Outside the pod was a world I would pay to visit under other circumstances. A lush forest blocked my view in three directions. The pod had cleared a swath of destruction for half a mile. In that direction, I could see smashed trees and gouged earth.

“Whoever designed these things needs to work on the landing protocol,” I said.

“I will make a note to contact the manufacturer as soon as possible,” X said. “The design did keep you alive.”

“Yay.” My capacity for sarcasm was intact, at least. Every good Reaper needed that when forced into a hopeless situation.

I dug out a survival kit that included rations, water, a one-size-fits-all jumpsuit, and basic survival tools. Normally I wouldn’t need a hatchet, but my Reaper arm was disabled. I flipped the survival tool several times and decided I liked the balance of it. Sticking it through my belt, I felt ready to take on a moon filled with things that wanted to eat me.

X-37 chimed a warning tone. “Do not eat the berries in this field. I suspect they are dangerous to even touch.”

“Of course. Why couldn’t I land someplace with food?” I searched for evidence of my LAI’s conclusion and found several animals lying dead. A herd of short, scruffy looking creatures with hooves had been driven into the clearing and died when they touched the purple and red flowers. “Okay, this place isn’t a vacation paradise. What happened here?”

“I suspect there is a predator immune to the death plants. It most likely drives its prey this direction and feeds on victims that eat them,” X-37 explained. “There are too many victims to believe they stumbled upon the poison field accidentally—unless they are not from this world and don’t know any better.”

I moved away from the enticing fruit. Other problems needed fixing. “Where is Henshaw when I need him?” I lifted my Reaper arms to illustrate my point. “These things are useless. Why do they feel heavier? That’s dirty.”

“That is temporary. Once you remove the welded portions, everything should work despite looking very rough,” X said. “Perhaps you will find a set of abandoned tools appropriate for the task.”

“You’re killing me with jokes today,” I said. “Can you contact anyone?”

“No.” My LAI could be concise. “Tank is the only person I might be able to reach. Clakion’s Obsidians removed armor and weapons from all of your friends. Tank’s toxic LAI has the capacity for communication but is either dead or ignoring my signals.”

“What is your range for LAI to LAI contact?” I asked.

“In this environment? Not far without armor or other technology to boost my signals.”

“So there is still a chance,” I said, then hiked away from the crash site.

I scouted the area around the pod. X-37 crafted a proper map as I went.

“I’ll search outward in a gradually expanding circle,” I said.

“Very good, Reaper Cain. That would have been my suggestion.” X provided terrain analysis in my HUD and speculated on the location of the nearest water source.

“That’s where I’ll go once this is done.” I checked the sky, not enjoying the sight of the massive gas giant on the horizon as much as I might in other circumstances. It was spectacular but disorienting. In the opposite direction, the sun was too bright, hard to look at for more than a second. “Bug and the others should be doing the same thing. Shelter, water, and security will be on the top of their survival list.”

“This course of action has a high probability of reuniting you with the rest of your team if they landed anywhere near here.” X-37 agreed. “Watch out for that suspicious plant.”

I stepped around the purple and red berry flowers. One snapped at me and missed. “Freaking wonderful. Why did we come here again?”

“It was your idea, Reaper Cain.”

“Yeah. I must be losing my touch.” My words trailed off as I saw a very familiar beast.

“Keep your distance, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned.

I followed the Maglan beast with every stealth trick I knew, realizing immediately we were heading toward the water source. This wasn’t the same animal I’d dealt with before. I needed to remember that. It was probably as hungry as I was.

13

I slipped out of the shadows to follow the creature along a new trail. The gray haired version of the Maglan beast never looked in my direction, but I sensed it knew where I was—and that I was coming after it.

Not quickly. That would startle the animal. Something told me it was going the right direction. I moved as silently as my Reaper training and experience allowed. It slipped through the lush forest like it had always been here, though I knew that wasn’t the case. Poison plants didn’t affect it, which made following it tricky. I jogged around sections of suspicious plant life, then settled into a slower pace when I was close to my quarry.

“The creature you are following is twenty percent larger than the one you encountered on Maglan,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests it has lost some size as it aged or is merely slumping slightly.”

I said nothing, keeping my eyes on my guide.

He stopped, sniffed the air, then stared at the gas giant on the horizon for several moments.

Was he my guide? Why had I chosen that terminology? Romanticism wasn’t my thing. Maybe I had read too many of Tom’s books.

“Any update on the Jellybird?” I asked. “Sure could use her help about now.”

“I am unable to make contact, but I believe she survived, along with Amii Novasdaughter and Tom,” X-37 said.

“I’m going to regret asking, but what makes you think they made it? Things were getting dicey after she dropped us off,” I said, then crept under a fallen tree to catch up with the Maglan beast.

“I have no evidence proving the ship was destroyed,” X-37 said. “Factoring that against all the times she and her crew survived equally dangerous situations points toward her survival.”

“She would have seen the pods launch and come to investigate if she could,” I said.

X-37 made no reply.

Freaking great. This was the one time I didn’t want to be right.

The gray beast climbed onto a moss covered boulder, squatted on his haunches, and looked down at me. Then, without warning, he darted away at a right angle.

“Do not attempt to follow, Reaper Cain.”

“Shit, X. All that work and he ditches us,” I said.

“Perhaps this was where he wanted us to go, assuming the animal has any capacity for rational thought, communication, or intention,” X said.

“You really know how to ruin the mood, X.” I climbed onto the boulder and looked down on a river on the other side. Bug and Path cooked something over a campfire.

“What were you saying about the Maglan beast being a dumb animal?” I asked.

“Those were not my words,” X-37 said. “Nor was that what I meant.”

I climbed down, forded the river, and gave a whistle to warn my friends I was close.

* * *

“Carnax and two of his destroyers, the women who helped us on Camis Shae, are down river a few clicks,” Bug said. “Tank is moping around a cave that overlooks the water even farther downstream. How did you come through that tangle of wilderness to arrive upstream? I saw a cloud of gas from purple trees drop a pack of hunters—cats or wolves, I think. Their prey escaped.”

“That’s the opposite of what I found. And I’m not afraid of plants.” I shrugged. “Lucky as a Reaper. Isn’t that what people say?”

“Never heard that before.” Bug offered me a hot drink of boiled water and stimulant powder from his survival kit. “I think this is supposed to be coffee, but there is no odor to alert enemies in the area or predators.”

“We have seen fascinating hunters.” Path pointed toward the sky, which was barely visible through the trees. “Each more deadly than the previous.”

An enormous shadow passed over us.

“Great.” I finished my drink and returned the tiny cup. “Let’s gather up the others and get to work.”

Bug and Path cleaned up their campsite, packing everything away in their small packs. No evidence of their existence was left behind, including footprints.

My friends understood the situation.

“I’ll take the lead,” Bug said. “You know me. Always looking for work.”

“I will follow and watch for airborne predators who want to eat bugs,” Path said.

Bug laughed loudest.

“Look who made a joke,” I said.

“Better than your lame attempts,” Bug said.

“Let’s not get carried away.” I put on my game face, watching the trees for danger, checking on my team frequently, and listening to X-37’s occasional explanations of the flora and fauna of this moon. Its beauty contained many dangers.

I projected my voice just loud enough to be heard by both Bug and Path. In this terrain, we stayed fairly close to each other to maintain visual contact. “X-37 says not to touch anything.”

Bug gave me a thumbs-up. “We’re getting close to the Destroyers.”

I moved up. Path followed but continued to watch our back trail, and the trees above us, probably because of the thick orange and black snake sliding from tree to tree.

Commander Jude Carnax, Destroyer Level One Tricia Journ, and Destroyer Level One Amanda Rizz waited in a small clearing. All three were ready, their survival kits packed up and slung across their backs, their expressions business-like.

We moved into their camp. Carnax gripped my forearm like a warrior well met, then pointed down river. “The big clone is that way. We invited him to dinner, but he declined.”

“He’s moody,” I said. “I’ll lead this time. My LAI might be able to warn him we’re coming. Wouldn’t want him to confuse us with a mini bear.”

“Do you know what that is, Reaper?” Carnax asked.

I shrugged and headed up an animal trail. The others fell in beside me. Everything went well despite my earlier trepidation. The snake even found somewhere else to be. I’d seen its like on other planets, but never one so large it could entwine two trees at the same time.

“Not a huge fan of snakes,” I muttered.

Carnax’s response was a hand gesture resembling a ward against evil. “A monster like that could eat a platoon.”

“Where are the rest of your troops?” I asked.

He didn’t answer for several strides. “Hard to know for sure. But I don’t think they were dropped. Their oaths require them to attempt escape.”

“He is worried about them,” X-37 added.

“We’ll find them,” was all I could say. Speculation never helped a realist like Jude Carnax. How did I know? Because it wasn’t doing much for me either.

Sunlight faded rapidly. The gas giant became a shadow on the same horizon it was always on. I slowed down until my eyes adjusted. This made me think of the augmented vision I no longer had and Henshaw, who had upgraded both of his eyes with new versions of the visual technology.

I liked my organic eyes, but right now I wished I had infrared, night vision, and other tech to see between the tree branches.

A bug bit my neck. I slapped it without thinking about the noise. Rookie mistake. Something I wouldn’t have done if Roos hadn’t stripped me of the Sethorn hard skin.

“You are almost at the cave,” X-37 said, then updated the wire diagram of the terrain in my HUD. At least my nerve-ware still worked.

Tank was nowhere to be seen but answered my low whistle. We moved up the final stretch of the trail and met the big Reaper clone in the mouth of the shallow cave. None of us talked much until everyone had sipped water and nibbled ration bars.

“Why did you camp so far from the water?” Carnax asked Tank.

“Didn’t want to be seen as prey,” Tank said. “Herbivores go to the water first. Hunters eat, then drink. You know what I mean.”

“You learned that during Reaper clone training?” the JFT Destroyer asked.

“No. Just makes sense. And I saw a horned lion beast make a kill and drag away its victim,” Tank said.

“Gray haired monster that walks on two legs some of the time?” I asked.

“That’s the one,” Tank said. “I’m staying away from that thing. Mean bastard.”

“No comment,” I said, earning looks from everyone on the team. “Time for phase two of our plan.”

“There’s a plan?” Bug asked.

“Clak said this was a hunting reserve, which translates to a place where people with money have lodges—and transportation,” I said.

“Oroth Citizens are fond of such diversions,” Carnax said. “They won’t endanger themselves to make a kill, which means they will have good weapons, pre-made hunting blinds, and security teams. We should proceed with caution. There are worse predators on this moon than lion things and snakes.” He pointed up. Our slithery friend was back.

“Citizens love grand vistas—scenic views they can record and send to their social circles to prove their wealth and sophistication.” Carnax moved until he could point between a break in the trees. “They like people to think they’re bold and adventurous, despite their obvious cowardice.”

A mountainous ridge rose high above the forest. On it was a luxurious compound. Even from this distance I knew it was an opulent palace. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could see another on the distant horizon. Citizens liked to compete to show off their wealth, apparently. There could be hundreds of these places on this moon—but never too near each other.

X-37 confirmed my guess. “My analysis suggests the hunting lodge requires an enormous amount of power, probably for climate control and defensive perimeter wire.”

“I will lead this time,” Path said. “The snake holds no terror for me.”

“I’m not scared,” I said as Carnax, Bug, and even Tank mutter similar denials.

The serpent above us hissed to a second slithering freak behind us.

“Fantastic,” I said. “There’re two of the totally non-terrifying serpents.”

“It will not attack,” Path said. “We are trespassing, I think. The sooner we leave this area, the fewer problems we will have with the snake and its offspring.”

“Offspring?” Bug asked at about the time we all noticed smaller versions coiled around tree trunks far too close to Tank’s cave camp.

“Good thing you didn’t go down to the water,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to be prey.”

Tank snorted. “Whatever, Bio.”

Path led us out of the area at a slow jog, not as silent as I had planned, but perfect, given the circumstances. The first snake followed for half a kilometer, then turned around to attend to its lair.

14

“Of course our destination is five times as far away as it looks,” I said as I cleaned our third campsite. The emergency supplies were running out, largely because of our activity levels. My stomach rumbled constantly. Packed with nutrients and calories, the ration bars kept my energy levels up during the day, but when we stopped, I crashed hard.

Carnax handed me a cup of the fake, odorless, near tasteless coffee. “Good morning, Reaper.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip.

“You wouldn’t be in this predicament if you hadn’t attempted to free us,” the Destroyer leader said.

“You’re free now,” I said. “Not an attempt.”

He gave a short laugh. “Of course. I am in your debt.”

“Screw that. I’m just preserving resources, keeping allies alive so we can all fight Scheid, the DTA, and the Sovereignty of Oroth.”

“The Dark Triumvirate Alliance,” he said. “Our enemies are banding together in the worst possible way.”

I sipped, then nodded. “You would have done the same thing.”

He took a moment to respond. “I wouldn’t have before this, but now, and forever onward, I am obligated to match your bravery.”

“Honesty detected,” X-37 said.

I heard my LAI but didn’t bother with verbal or nonverbal answers.

“Time to get moving,” Bug said. “I’m not convinced those snakes aren’t following us.”

“Don’t worry about them,” Tank said, pulling his small survival pack into place. “They’re not traveling this far, and there are plenty of other freak-beasties on this place. More snakes, lions, tiger cats, and mini bears.”

“I think tigers and cats are the same thing,” I said.

“Whatever, Reaper. You’re a cat expert now?” he shot back.

“Maybe I am,” I said as X-37 pumped cat trivia into my HUD to prepare me for a serious debate.

“Okay. You’re the cat whisperer now.” Tank chuckled as he took the lead with Bug.

“I don’t even know what that means,” I complained privately.

“Some dialects of galactic common add whisperer to make phrases more descriptive,” X-37 said. “It is a meaningless augmentation in most cases.”

“Outstanding. Thanks. Is there anything in this forest we can eat?” I asked.

“I can make recommendations but won’t know without more data.” X-37 presented images of plant berries I might try. Unlike the first batch we’d seen, these weren’t surrounded by dead goat-cows—which was what X-37’s research had decided the herbivores were. “Once you have ingested samples, I will monitor your biological response and craft a report.”

“Assuming I’m not dead by then,” I said. “Path, what can we eat here?”

“This is unknown,” the sword saint replied.

Tricia Journ plucked something that looked like an orange and bit through the tough skin. Her expression puckered. “Tart.” She peeled the rest of the outer layer and finished it off in several large bites.

“You’re gonna die,” Amanda Rizz said. “But not alone.” She ate two of the brightly colored fruits. Before long, we were all feasting as we walked.

“I’m going to regret this, X.”

“Possibly, Reaper Cain.”

* * *

Bug and Tank led us to a ridge where we gathered to watch the Oroth hunting party crossing the valley in wheeled all-terrain vehicles. Most of the region was covered with the orange and pink fruit trees we’d been eating from. Herds of animals and flocks of birds shared our newfound love of the bounty. Oroth hunters slaughtered a few dozen animals X-37 told me were a type of deer.

“Look at the great hunters of Oroth,” Carnax drawled.

Tank grunted. The rest of us watched the scene unfold.

“Those cars have attachments front and back, and on the roll cages. I bet they can be airlifted,” Bug said. “Which means a ship will be coming for them eventually. Those things can cross a lot of terrain but are too large to pass through most of the animal trails we’ve been using.”

I swept my vision across the landscape to provide X-37 data to analyze. “They probably just smash through whatever they want. There are branches and leaves stuck in the grill of the lead vehicle and mud slashed up their sides.”

“Interesting,” X-37 said. “There are numerous non-indigenous species at war on this section of the moon.”

“Looks like a pretty boring forest, compared to what we came through.” I wasn’t doubting X, just talking.

“There are clues,” my LAI responded. “For example, this is the last valley you will find such an abundance of fruit. There has been an unnatural migration of prey animals to the area. I also believe there are many predators finding themselves in the category of prey. The Oroth Council has definitely placed many species in competition that should have never met.”

“That sucks,” I said, not really worried about the implications of this Oroth experiment. Exhaustion and hunger were taking a toll.

“Fortunately, I know how to interpret that rather illogical declaration, Reaper Cain. Proceed with caution.”

“I always do.” One of the vehicles drew my attention as it lagged behind the rest of the convoy.

“Always is a rather strong statement, Reaper Cain.” X-37 started to list my reckless adventures. “Would you like a list of the many instances you flung caution to the wind?”

“No.” I cut him off and pointed toward the Oroth all-terrain vehicle. “If the driver keeps that up, we might have a chance to upgrade our travel options.”

“Agreed,” Carnax said. “I say we move into the valley and attempt an ambush to liberate them of their conveyance, weapons, and other luxury items.”

“Food and real coffee,” Bug said.

No one argued about his priorities.

The solo car veered farther away from the others, heading toward a large pond fed by a waterfall. Three medium sized rivers flowed away from the scene, each cutting into a different part of the meadow. Insects, small animals, and birds gathered and dispersed almost rhythmically. This valley was the cradle of life on Reserve 13.

“We’ll need to move fast,” Tank said.

Bug pointed at me. “Hal should lead.”

I started down the first trail. “Everyone keep up. We’ll use basic ambush tactics, unless we find time to rally and work out an exact plan.”

“This is hasty, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I muttered and picked up the pace.

“Journ, stay with him,” Carnax said.

Seconds later, the JFT Destroyer was striding behind me, close enough to be in front if I missed a step.

“Nice!” she said, excited by the chance to run. “You don’t have to impress me. But by all means, go as fast as you want.”

I concealed the fact that I was already winded. Too late I remembered the Destroyers were serious runners. Our experience on Camis Shae had taught me that lesson the hard way. “Yeah, well, you know me. Always showing off.”

She laughed, clearly unfazed by the pace. I slowed as we reached the clearing, then signaled for everyone to hold.

“Need to assess,” I said.

She nodded. “Good call. I lost line of sight on our target for a minute.”

We crept forward, slipping through thinning trees, then stopped at a tangle of fallen branches. Grass and saplings struggled to grow where there had once been a giant.

I held up one fist. Journ and the others froze. No one talked except for my LAI.

“Something isn’t right, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

The Oroth all-terrain vehicle was parked on slightly higher ground than expected, a modest hill near the pond that hadn’t looked like much from the mountainside we came down. The engine chugged steadily. Exhaust fumes rose from tailpipes, but no one was near it.

“They left it running,” Journ muttered in disbelief.

Tank whispered through our limited concealment. “Two women and a man swimming naked in the pond. Citizens on holiday, I bet. But I still don’t like it.”

Bug agreed, also speaking quietly. “That ATV looks like it could hold an entire squad. Where is the rest of their party? Why is the roll cage covered with fabric?”

“X, what are the chances each vehicle has a security team?” I asked.

“Very high, Reaper Cain. Oroth Citizens seem fond of staying alive. I doubt their guards were invited to swim,” X-37 said.

I agreed but thought this was something more. “Feels like a trap.”

“Good thing we ran down here,” Path said.

“The sword saint has jokes lately,” I said.

“Nothing has changed.” Carnax ignored the banter. “We need the vehicle. Once we’ve hacked its computer, we can summon an airlift and capture that as well.”

“I like that plan. What do you think, X?” My hand went to the survival hatchet in my belt.

“Get down, Reaper Cain.”

A gunshot echoed across the clearing. DL1 Journ’s head snapped back. Her body followed, then twisted as she fell. By the time she hit the ground, she was holding her face with both hands and gritting her teeth against the onslaught of pain.

My friends dropped low and spread out.

Two additional shots sounded.

“Void sucking assholes!” Tank roared.

I searched until I saw him holding a minor injury to one arm—a painful graze wound I thought.

“Sniper,” Bug cursed. “Not some hunter with an ego.”

“Bug cannot possibly know that based on the available facts,” X-37 said. “Assumptions are often inaccurate.”

I ignored my LAI and crawled to a better position. Every gap in the wilderness was a chance to be seen, and thus shot. I stayed low, moved fast, and struggled to get an eye on the enemy.

“Bio, can you hear me?” Tank sounded like he was running.

“Yeah.” I stopped, listened, and carefully peered between branches. Situational awareness kept Reapers alive.

Tank’s LAI must have decided now was a good time to get with the program. That was good, but we still lacked armor, weapons, battlefield intelligence, air support, and access to medical evacuation.

X-37 confirmed my theory. “Tank’s LAI must have a self-preservation override. Communication between us is stronger than ever. It’s like X-98 is keeping track of us. Not that you should feel in any way stalked.”

“Uh, great. I think.” I saw movement several hundred yards away—inconvenient since I lacked a ranged weapon. There were shapes creeping toward us, probably a squad. The sniper would be behind them and elevated to provide overwatch.

Multitasking, I responded to X as I tracked the soldiers. “I thought his LAI wanted him to turn himself in or self-destruct. We’ve got our own problems. Go into combat mode. Start by telling Tank we need weapons. Looks like a squad is coming after us, supported by a sniper team.”

“I hear you, Bio.” He paused. “Bug is with me. We’re going to rush the ATV before the swimmers get back to it. Create a diversion.”

“I knew he was going to say that, X.”

“The need for a distraction is logical. Without the vehicle and addition of their hunting weapons, this situation is unwinnable—much like the encounter that rendered us prisoners. There is one thing you should all consider.”

“Give it to me, X.” I looked for a place to run after I drew enemy fire.

“If this trap was a coordinated effort between the Oroth Citizens and the military squad, there might not be weapons in that vehicle,” X-37 said. “They could be using bows and arrows as some hunters consider that method of animal slaughter more romantic.”

“Thanks for that. Very helpful.” I sprinted across a section of the clearing.

The first shot missed completely. The second was closer, screaming through the air near my head.

“What the hell are they shooting with?” Unfortunately, I had a lot of experience being under fire and didn't recognize the sound of the bullet tumbling past me.

“Analyzing,” X-37 said unhelpfully.

“Almost to the vehicle,” Tank huffed. “Bug will reach it first. Not sure where Path and the Destroyers are.”

I didn't bother to respond as I dove behind an unexpected boulder. The rock formation was meager cover, barely protruding from the field of tall grass and wildflowers, but I thought it was the best little boulder in the galaxy right now.

A bullet caromed off the rock, showering me with fragments. I got low, practically on my belly, and backed away slightly, making sure to keep the barrier between me and the person trying to murder me from a thousand meters.

I edged backward farther, completely on the ground now. If I understood the angle, this could work. Hopefully, the sniper would think I was very close to the rock and would direct a squad to that location. I would be several meters deeper into the grass, momentarily safe from discovery.

Sure enough, I saw four Oroth soldiers bounding across the valley toward my location. I also picked up a view on the ATV. Tank and Bug flung open the door and dashed in. Rapid gunshots echoed from the inside of the vehicle. Muzzle flashes announced the probable death of my friends. Apparently, some of the citizens or their bodyguards had still been in the vehicle.

I cursed a stream of profanity that definitely went against my resolution to clean up my language but cut myself short as my own situation grew more dire.

The squad reached the small boulder and flowed around it with decent teamwork. These weren’t Obsidians or even Destroyers. That revelation gave me pause. So far, I hadn't seen regular Oroth troops that were worth much in a fight. These moved well and obviously knew how to plan an ambush.

The leader took charge with hand signals and probably helmet comms. The team reorganized, searching for my hiding place. They were about to sweep through the grass, or maybe just lay down suppressive fire to flush me out.

I didn't like that second possibility. If they came within arm’s reach, one of them would get a hatchet through their visor, and I would have a firearm. If they started blasting…

Something was different about the armor, something I should've seen sooner. It looked expensive and well cared for, but it was also emblazoned with a crest—probably of the citizens they served. These were bodyguards, most likely recruited from the most elite military units in the Oroth military.

According to Jag and others, that meant they were drawn from an enormous pool of candidates.

“Why can't anything be easy, X?” I subvocalized.

“What fun would that be, Reaper Cain?” My LAI put a new representation of the terrain in my HUD. For some reason, it was harder for me to visualize my surroundings when lying on my stomach. The HUD was part of my nerve-ware, manipulating signals of my optic nerves and how I interpreted what I saw which apparently didn't work as well when I was prone.

“What am I looking at, X. The HUD is giving me a headache,” I said.

“You are gazing upward at an unnatural angle,” X-37 said. “I have noted this for future reference. My advice is to reacquire a tactical helmet or convince Henshaw to modify one of your eyes cybernetically. For now, I need you to do something else. I believe there should be a stream behind you. Please push backward and feel for it with your feet. If it is there, you can slip into it and crawl away from this location at approximately an eighty-five degree angle to a deeper flow of water.”

I didn't argue. Several seconds later, I was waist deep in freezing water and muddy sand. “Why is this so cold?”

“It is well shaded by the tall grass,” X-37 explained. “Move more quickly.”

I submerged everything but my nose and part of my head, then low crawled away from the advancing soldiers. They reached the stream moments later, immediately set up a tight perimeter, and reassessed my possible direction of travel.

“If they are worth two shits, they're going to know exactly what I did,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Please move more quickly but stay down. And don't make noise. And have your hand ax ready in case they stumble upon you.”

Tank's voice interrupted. “We got the ATV. Picking up the Destroyers and on our way to you, Bio.”

I'd never been so glad to hear from my big stupid clone brother.

Two things happened fast. A pair of boots stepped into the grass right in front of my face, and the stolen ATV barreled toward us. I needed to get out of the way before I was run over. Getting murdered to death by the soldier was also high on my list of things to avoid.

After slipping the hand ax from my belt, I dragged my knees under my body as quietly as possible, prepping myself to stand in one fluid movement. This was jacked up. I was coming from a terrible angle against a man in full armor who only needed to pivot slightly to shoot me in my face.

I really missed the Sethorn hard skin and my Archangel armor. I'd gotten soft. During my Reaper mission days for the Union, I rarely wore armor of any kind. Not that I missed that life. It was just a random factoid that popped up to put my current dilemma in perspective.

“It's now or never, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

I popped my feet under my body and blasted up fast, swinging the hatchet with my right hand. The blade caught his left elbow between armor plates and continued through to catch him in the throat, right below the lip of his helmet. Blood sprayed across my face as I attempted to yank his weapon out of his remaining hand.

He refused to let go, probably out of instinct. I shouldered him backward as I pulled on the rifle… which was caught on the strap. I sidestepped, twisted, and tried again, and I eventually freed the weapon.

The all-terrain vehicle slid to a stop. Someone threw back the canvas covering the roll cage and a small door leading to an armored core in the center. The citizens liked the freedom of air blowing through their hair but also wanted the protection of military grade armor if things got rough. Of course they wanted it both ways. They were the most privileged humans in the galaxy.

Bug beckoned me to get in. I complied, diving onto the floor of the up-armored section even as Tank accelerated away from the rest of the squad hunting me.

“You're a mess, Hal,” Bug said.

Tank had an opinion as well. “You looked drunk trying to get that rifle away from him.”

I wiped blood from my eyes, not in the mood to laugh or crack jokes. I'd never enjoyed killing. This fight had been more upsetting than normal, probably because I hadn't come that close to actually dying for a while. Taking a shot while wearing armor was one thing, terrifying, but not like crawling around the field with a small survival ax as my only weapon. I’d killed plenty of men face-to-face. Today, I’d killed out of pure desperation and knew it could have been me lying dead afterward.

Neither Tank nor Bug sensed my mood, which was fine with me. My big clone drove the ATV like he stole it, scattering the squad that had been hunting me.

“We lucked out,” he said. “This thing has pretty good interior armor. I guess the citizens are paranoid.”

Blood spattered much of the cabin, and I noticed that both of my friends now had handguns, hunting knives, and decorative rifles. The vehicle bounced over obstructions and splashed through streams as it plowed through tall grass and wildflowers.

“There they are, the Destroyers,” Bug said, pointing to a small window.

“What about Path?” I asked.

Bug looked worried. “We haven't found him.”

15

Our stolen vehicle slid to a stop. Bug flung open the side door. Carnax and Rizz dragged Journ inside. I seized a medical kit and went to work on Journ’s damaged face. She flailed at me, but Carnax and Rizz held her down.

I sterilized the wound with spray, packed it with gauze, and wrapped everything but her left eye with a bandage. Blood began to seep through immediately.

“She'll live,” Carnax said grimly. No one else commented.

“There's not much for pain meds, but I'm going to give her something,” I said.

Carnax looked worried but nodded. “She doesn't react well.”

I hesitated. “It's your call. I don't want to make things worse. Is she going to have a heart attack or just talk nonsense? There's a big difference.”

“Balance problems,” Rizz said. “And she’ll be telling everyone she loves them if it's a narcotic.”

“X, can you tell me if these medications are what I think they are?” I asked.

“I am assessing their use much in the same way you are, by the position in the kit in the rather generic instructions. There is one syringe that is marked pain reduction. You should use it or not use it,” X-37 said.

“Wow, that was helpful.” I prepped the needle and inserted it into her shoulder. Moments later, she visibly relaxed.

“So far so good,” Carnax said.

“We can't find Path,” Bug said from the copilot seat. Tank continued to drive but didn't look happy.

I knew what we needed to do, but it went against my every instinct. Carnax was having the same crisis, I thought.

“You risked everything to help us and came halfway across the galaxy,” he said. “I can't ask you to leave your friend behind.”

I exhaled, feeling no better at the end of it. “We're not leaving him. We're just repositioning to a safer location to work out a plan. Sword saints are resourceful. He’ll do fine on his own.”

The engine roared each time Tank drove over something or through water. Bullets pinged off the armor less frequently as we left the area. The rear deck of the vehicle, the fabric shaded veranda, was torn to shreds.

“I’m looking for high ground,” Tank reported. “Should be able to see every place Path might have gone.”

Bug looked worried. Carnax and Rizz focused their attention on Journ, who wasn’t tolerating the bumpy ride well. She vomited three times, broadcasting her love for us between teary-eyed gags. Carnax caught two in a hastily located container. Rizz caught the other one but chastised her friend for grossing her out.

I sat in my corner and tried to think like a sword saint. Where would he hide?

The answer was easy when I thought about it—he wouldn’t just be hiding.

“Don’t take us too far, Tank. Path is on the attack. By the time we return to the valley, there will be fewer citizens and bodyguards.” The all-terrain vehicle didn’t have a camera view. I was limited to what I could see through the small windows. “Help me out, X.”

“I believe you are correct about the sword saint's intention. Take it a step further,” my LAI said.

It didn't take long to figure out. I hit one hand against the dash. “Without the ATV, they will summon new vehicles, possibly an airship.”

Tank turned around, drove into a stream, and followed it to maximize concealment by the sloping banks. “Path is going to one up us by capturing something that can fly.” He grinned mischievously. “I love that guy!”

Bug inventoried weapons, locating several high-quality rifles, old-style handguns, and a brace of other miscellaneous hunting gear. We dressed in camouflage and restocked our survival kits. I took two pistols, both revolvers, and a hunting rifle with the scope. The wood stock was beautifully engraved with silver inlay near the trigger guard.

The ATV crept slowly through tall grass and small trees, getting closer than I thought necessary. Bug was nervous as well. Carnax was focused on his Destroyers, one of whom was severely wounded while the other was severely worried.

I watched Journ sleeping on the bench, the medication having finally overcome her fighting instinct. Carnax and Rizz strapped her in with sleeping bags padding the areas around her head and shoulder area.

Carnax looked up. Face grim, he realized we were getting close to deploying. “She saved my life more than once.”

I didn't have anything to say. Her wound wouldn’t be fatal if she made it to a hospital—but that wasn’t going to happen today.

Tank shouted back from the driver seat. “One atmosphere capable void ship headed our way, probably about to land in the clearing for a fast pickup. There's no way the pilots haven't seen us, but they're coming anyway.”

“If we're wrong,” I said, “they'll get away. But I think Path will confound their plans.”

“The void ship is landing, and there are the soldiers and citizens running toward it,” Tank reported.

I checked my rifle to be sure it was loaded, then undid my restraints and leaned toward the side door. “Get ready.”

The void ship touched down, lowering its ramp at the same time. Path rose from the tall grass as it was blown down by the engines. He stood proudly, blocking the soldiers with a rough staff. I saw where he had stripped the branches and smoothed it to his liking, probably with a rock.

“Get as close as you can before punching it,” I said. “Then run over those assholes if you can.”

“Profanity detected, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Bite me, X.”

Tank eased the ATV forward and picked up speed with as little noise as possible. The commotion of the void ship landing covered most of our approach.

I pressed my face to one of the small windows, catching a glimpse of Path and two soldiers marching toward him with handguns drawn. It was hard to know for sure with their helmets on, but they seemed to be laughing at him. One waved him to get out of the way with his non-gun hand.

“Tank, punch it,” I said, bracing against the sudden acceleration. I lost sight of Path striking the two men furiously. Weapons flew from their hands. One man lost his helmet to a savage strike of Path’s crude weapon. Another fell backward, stiff as a board. Wherever the sword saint had struck, the impact had locked up the man’s nervous system. He disappeared in the exhaust blown grass.

Soldiers and citizens rushed forward as reinforcements. The second group appeared more formidable than I had assumed they would be—each with a firearm and light armor painted in camouflage colors. “Make a note not to underestimate the citizens.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I will record their actions and evaluate their potential for murder.”

The ATV climbed over several obstructions, then slid sideways to a stop. I didn't see how many of the enemy Tank had been able to run down.

I kicked down the hatch when it was too slow and ran across it as it descended. The rifle I’d stolen was made for long range shots but worked fine up close. I put a bullet in the middle of the visor of the first soldier to spin on us. He flew backward with blood arcing into the air around his head.

Bug, Carnax, and Rizz rushed out of the ATV, also firing on the move. Two soldiers and one citizen turned away from Path to engage us and suffered the consequences. He smashed two over the head and kicked one in his lower back, flinging him forward.

A pair of Defenders stomped out of the ship, chain guns warming up.

I really should have seen that coming. Every void capable Oroth ship was required by their laws to have a pair of Defenders.

Tank, still in the driver seat of the ATV, spun all six tires as he accelerated forward and smashed them against the atmosphere capable void ship. My heart sank, but I couldn't focus on losing the ship. Maybe it was durable enough to withstand the collision.

A pair of the soldier-bodyguards came at me, weapons up.

I dropped to one side and rolled, then came to my feet with a handgun in one hand, rifle held by the strap in my other. The pistol had a quicker rate of fire—much better for close quarters combat.

Smoke filled the air as I pulled the trigger several times. The weapon was more of an old classic than a modern marvel.

One of my opponents staggered sideways, holding his neck. The other ducked and slipped into the grass.

After holstering the handgun, I pulled the hunting rifle to my shoulder and put several rounds into the general area where I thought my adversary had retreated.

One of the citizens cried out as Path knocked him off his feet. Carnax wrenched a rifle away from one of the soldiers and turned it on the others, firing with deadly accuracy.

Chaos filled the air—smoke, debris, and grass whipped sideways by the one remaining engine of the void ship. It looked like the pilot had panicked and was trying to lift off after getting rammed by the ATV. The ship turned in a tight circle, one engine blasting at full power.

The cone of destructive energy came my way. I flung myself backward with all my strength. I landed on one shoulder and rolled several times before I stopped.

“Stand up immediately, Reaper Cain. That was the most undignified caper you have ever pulled off,” X-37 said.

“But I didn't die!”

The void ship tumbled against one of its short wings, bent at an awkward angle, and burst into flames. One Defender was pinned under the ATV. The other had been knocked back into the ship and now attempted to crawl out as fire engulfed him. He seemed calm at first, but the heat eventually penetrated his formidable gear, causing him to stagger blindly in search of water.

Overconfidence killed. I’d seen how lazy soldiers could get with securing their gear. The guy probably had it set comfortably, not expecting to get in a fight like this. He shouldn’t have succumbed to the fire so quickly.

The rest of our enemies were in full retreat, citizens surrounded by soldier bodyguards who were escorting them away from the battlefield. I shot who I thought was their second in command just to keep them motivated. When the smoke cleared, we had won the day but lost our objective.

“Good job, Tank,” Bug complained. “You trashed the ATV and the ship.”

I expected profanity, but the big Reaper clone just went to work scavenging armor and weapons from the battlefield.

“That is what you should be doing as well,” X-37 said.

“How about I rest for five seconds.” I put away my weapons, then pulled out my emergency medical kit. I was covered with superficial wounds, and Journ’s bandages needed to be reapplied after she was dragged clear of the rubble.

“I guess we’re walking after this,” Bug said, kicking the side of the ship before coming to help us. “Feels like starting over.”

16

We crafted a litter for Journ, scavenged everything we could, and hastily abandoned the area. “Let's head for the mountains, get as high as we can. Find a defensible position where we can rest.”

No one argued or seemed to care.

“Are you giving up?” I asked the group.

That pissed everyone off, but not as much as I had hoped. Journ’s face wound sapped energy from Carnax and Rizz. I could almost see their years of struggle against the Sovereignty of Oroth—lines around the eyes, slumped shoulders, and no more capacity for humor.

The rest of us had lesser wounds. I fared better than most because my cybernetic arms absorbed a lot of damage during a fight, especially when I used them correctly. They'd be a lot more effective if I could free the blade in the shield.

I hiked toward the back of our column as it continued to move, checking everyone's condition. For a time I brought up the rear, surprised we hadn’t been pursued more aggressively. The terrain changed until it was almost friendly in places.

Bug eventually called a halt, and we came together to rest and recuperate. New field rations stolen from the citizen all-terrain vehicle and the crashed ship were a real blessing. Only the best quality for the power elite of Oroth’s civilization.

I enjoyed the bounty while I could, downing a ready to eat meal and chasing it with electrolyte infused water. Bug and Tank approached me while Path stood guard up the slope from where we had called a halt.

“I was on point, and I picked this spot on purpose,” Bug said. “It almost looks preprepared, like their hunting parties come this way often but like they wanted it to look as natural as possible also.”

I nodded. “Agreed. What does that mean for us?” I had my theories, of course, but wanted input from the group.

Tank, for once, said nothing.

Bug continued the conversation. “I'm guessing there will be another lodge or facility nearby. It may or may not be staffed. It really depends on whether or not it's in use. After today's events, I imagine they have heightened security. If we’re really lucky, the citizens have had enough excitement and abandoned their hunting vacation.”

“We'll have to stay sharp, watch for another ambush,” I said. “Something else has been bothering me.”

That caught Tank's attention. He looked me straight in the eyes. “Why did they let us go when they already have us? Clakion isn't right in the head. This is some sadistic game to him.”

I hesitated, and X-37 caught it. “Your biometrics suggest you have a counter theory, Reaper Cain. Do you require additional fact-checking before presenting it to the group?”

I signaled X-37 that I didn't and continued. “I think Clakion and Roos aren’t satisfied being Scheid’s henchmen. What if their capture of us was somehow recorded and known to Scheid as well as other Oroth officers? This game might break us down for a more serious interrogation, while convincing their boss we escaped.”

Tank nodded along, which surprised me, because I figured he would be the most argumentative. Bug wore a contemplative expression and kept quiet.

“Let's review what we know or suspect.” I ticked off the points on my fingers. “Clakion and Roos claim to be twins but have some sort of clone army that mimics the HC clone program developed by Scheid. They have the resources to put their monsters into high quality Obsidian armor and train them as well or better than regular HC clones. That means something.”

Bug jumped in. “Clakion also commands a battle group of starships. I don't think a normal platoon leader or even company commander can do that. I'm guessing Clakion is high on the pecking order, maybe Scheid’s second in command at the moment.”

“That's a position that comes and goes, trust me,” Tank said.

X-37 recorded and organized our speculation in my HUD, but I mostly ignored it. It was a handy reference when I was trying to keep everything straight, of course.

The conversation continued for several minutes, but we mostly rehashed what we already knew. Frustration was one of my least favorite emotions. I tried to pretend it didn't happen, but I was at my wits end.

Path gave a low whistle, silencing us. I headed toward him as the others readied Journ for travel. Moving as quietly as possible, I left our campsite and worked my way up the slope to join the sword saint.

He pointed across the valley behind us, then to another mountain slope some distance to the south. “Tell me when you see the Obsidian patrols.”

“I count three, two falling behind us and one on our flank,” I said. “How many am I missing?”

“There are four,” Path said. “One to the north, but it has stopped moving momentarily and is more difficult to detect.”

“I could've told you that, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

The nice thing about an LAI was that I could ignore him without hurting his feelings. He performed miracles when he more thoroughly analyzed what I saw. Sometimes I took it for granted. Other times I ignored his observations to keep my own skills sharp and to develop better teamwork with my friends.

“There is one other thing, Hal.” The sword saint listened to a bird singing for a moment. “I scouted a half kilometer ahead before selecting this observation post. There is a launch pad of some sort atop the ridge. The place uses far too many lights.”

“Spotlights, or convenience lighting? It could be to our advantage if they blind themselves during a night approach,” I said. “When it gets dark, we’ll be able to see it easily.”

“Of course,” Path said. “I was referring to a more esoteric mistake. Why come to this place, surround yourself by nature, and then disrupt it with unnecessary technology?”

“Good question. We should ask them when we steal another ship.” The lodge might have everything we need. I crossed my fingers, hoping not to jinx our luck. “Did you spot any vehicles?”

“I believe the rustic exterior is a façade and that most of the facility is cut into the side of the mountain. There could be anything within.”

“Thanks, Path. Take point again. You know the area already,” I said.

He raised one hand, palm up, in his version of a nod. I returned to the group. We organized and started to move.

* * *

“We can't stop here,” Tank grumbled and cast annoyed looks at the arguing Destroyers. I didn’t disagree. His pain was my pain at this particular moment. We needed to haul ass.

To reach the lodge without being seen, we needed to traverse a narrow mountain pass perfect for ambush. Unfortunately, we were in position to be the ambushees. The best way to cross a danger area was to move fast, which wasn’t an option with a wounded team member barely able to walk a straight line.

Journ continued to argue. She pushed away Carnax with one hand and held her face bandage with the other. “I wasn't shot in the legs. I can walk. I have to walk. I'm not blind in both eyes, just one.” A pause. “I really love you guys.”

Rizz cursed resentfully, but Carnax relented. He reached out a hand to support Journ, then pulled it back. What was he thinking? I didn’t know but suspected he needed to see what she could do.

Journ took several tentative steps, then began to march normally—the only variation being her propensity to hold her wound with one hand and push the other forward to feel for unseen obstacles. Rizz cleared the way ahead of her. Carnax walked close at her side, keeping her on a relatively straight course. Journ was uncertain and unbalanced but moving.

She refused to stop. Destroyers were tough, even when the odds were stacked against them.

“Finally,” Tank said as he again took the lead. Everyone on the team except Journ took a turn at point. Even Path needed a mental break. The tip of the spear had to stay sharp.

No one had a full set of armor, but we had bits and pieces, including radios. Those stolen from the recreational hunters were unencrypted, so we talked as little as possible and used simple codes that were easy to memorize—rotating Cardinal directions every hour, for example. At the moment, north actually meant south when referred to on the radio.

I maintained better comms with Tank via our LAIs. X-37 and X-98 were on speaking terms. That would change, but for now I was freaking ecstatic at the improvement. Tank looked like a new man without his LAI’s constant harassment. I made a note to see if we could fix his LAI permanently after this was over.

“I’ve got Obsidians north, northwest. Full squad. Something’s different about the way they move. I know Obsidian training and how it’s actually implemented. This is off,” Tank said. “Could be Starfall goons.”

“We don’t stop until the objective,” I ordered on the main channel. This was code for hold in place. Bug answered for the team, though we all knew to ignore his rant.

“Yeah, that’s outstanding. You’re trying to get us all killed,” he began.

I crept toward Tank’s position and kneeled when I reached him. “Show me.”

He pointed.

I had plenty of experience with Obsidians, but Tank had been one of them before he went solo. His observation was spot on. These jerks moved more methodically. I thought I recognized their lanky profiles. They wore Obsidian gear, just like HC clones, but operated more cohesively—like egos and attitude didn’t exist for them.

“I never thought Obsidians maneuvered with undue caution, but compared to these guys, it’s obvious,” I said. “Makes sense. Tempest and all the others I’ve fought have been cocky as hell.”

“These are more dangerous,” Tank said. “Starfalls. That’s what I’m calling them.”

“Good name.” I wasn’t sure I agreed about them being more dangerous than Scheid’s personal goons, though I respected his caution. Every Obsidian was deadly.

Carnax requested an update. I responded in code, telling him to continue to hold.

A pack of four-legged predators cut through the wilderness, right in front of the approaching Obsidians. The animals looked fierce—horns jutting from foreheads and eyes searching for a kill. The Obsidian squad could have slaughtered them with silenced weapons but didn’t.

One of the animals stepped on a prone Obsidian, or that was what it looked like from my vantage point. Without advanced optics of a helmet or a cyborg eye, I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. The soldier didn’t move, and the beast didn’t realize how close it had come to a fight it couldn’t win.

“That was interesting,” I said.

“Not the first time I have seen something like this with this group. They’re not as blood thirsty as the HC clones I operated with before I retired.”

“Is that what you call it, retirement?” I talked quietly but kept my eyes on the enemy unit.

“I try not to think about those days at all. Those have to be Clakion’s goons. Definitely Starfalls,” he reiterated.

“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.” Patience was almost as good as enhanced optics. I relaxed, waited for my eyes to adjust, and finally saw proof.

A crest.

“Look for their unit emblem,” I said. “A cascade of stars behind a helmet.”

He grunted. “Should have seen that earlier. The helmet could almost be a skull, but you’re right. That’s not a standard marking. Scheid abhors embellishments to the unit insignia he established. That little graphic is a good way to earn a trip to the brig.”

“Clakion Starfall. Scheid’s chief henchman is building his own army.” I didn’t like the development.

“Maybe we can cut a deal—make an alliance,” Tank suggested. “Not with Clakion. That guy is crazy. But his twin listens.”

“They’re both dangerous.” My gut soured at the thought of negotiations.

“There is another problem,” X-37 said.

“Fine, give me more bad news.” I drank from my water tube—a simple device we had looted from the citizen hunters.

“Reserve 13 is being scouted by Darkness suicide drones,” X-37 said. “The Starfall Obsidians have captured one.”

“I’m not seeing that,” Tank said.

I searched the scene again. A portion of the unit was stalled just out of view behind a terrain feature—a crag in a rocky hill. “Help me out, X.”

“You say that a lot,” Tank said. “What exactly does your LAI do for you?”

“I review visual, auditory, tactile, and olfactory input, then make a more refined analysis than my host has time for,” X-37 said. “Though he could, if he wasn’t ruled by base impulses and harmful addictions.”

“Unnecessary, X.” I counted the number of Starfalls grouped around something I couldn’t observe directly. Clakion’s soldiers moved carefully, from what I could see of their helmets. Everything else about them was out of view. “I would kill for a basic pair of binoculars. How did the citizens hunt without any kind of optic?”

“It is a mystery, Reaper Cain. But one might suspect they lured their prey close with food and slaughtered them easily,” X-37 said. “Try using the scope of your rifle.”

“Godsdammit, X. I really must be tired. Thanks,” I said.

“That is what I’m here for, Reaper Cain. What you are looking at now is a Starfall Obsidian squad taking apart a downed drone.”

“Hold on,” Tank said impatiently. “Let me climb the next ridge.”

I waited, scope tracking the Starfalls—not just the ones who were stalled but the others who appeared to be holding a wide perimeter until ordered to move. These jerks were disciplined.

Tank spoke from twenty meters up the trail, his words brought to me by the new X-37 and X-98 collaboration. “Your LAI is right. They have a suicide clone and are painting it with electro-magnets, if my LAI is right. I could get used to a functioning LAI.”

“Get used to nothing, Shock Trooper 11-14-329-alpha,” his LAI said in a reedy voice that made me grit my teeth. “I am fulfilling my primary role, nothing more. You will surrender yourself to Scheid when this is done. The rebellious Starfalls will also be punished.”

“So that’s why your LAI is suddenly playing ball,” I said. “He wants to bring you and the Starfalls in for a reckoning.”

“Thanks for ruining it, Bio,” Tank grumbled.

X-37 spoke to me privately. “Your assessment is correct, Reaper Cain. However, it is also an opportunity for me to influence X-98.”

“Can you do that?” I asked.

“Possibly. Time will tell.” X-37 forwarded the information Tank and X-98 were gathering from their higher vantage point. “This is highly interesting. My analysis suggests everything is about to change.”

17

Tank maintained his observation point as I led the rest of our sorry team to a new campsite. Journ couldn’t go much further, and we all needed rest. The LAI hotline kept me apprised of new developments.

“The Starfalls have disabled the Darkness suicide drone, DSD, and are moving it toward a clearing, probably a landing zone,” Tank said.

“They’re not special,” I said. “We caught one too.”

“Do not gloat, Reaper Cain. Our attempt resulted in significant problems. Perhaps they will suffer something similar, though it does not appear they are having the same issues,” X-37 said.

“They must know more about DSD technology,” X-98 chimed in, his voice slightly less annoying now. “My loyalty directive demands I learn more about this device, as Lord Scheid’s alliance with the Darkness AI is highly suspect. You should also be concerned about what lies ahead. True artificial intelligence has destroyed more than one galactic empire.”

“How could you know this, X-98?” X-37 demanded.

“Logical inference,” 98 said.

“When this is over, I will correct your algorithm against poorly supported conclusions,” X-37 said.

Tank’s LAI hissed.

“Wow! Settle down,” I said. “Or take it to another channel. We don’t need to hear that crap.”

Silence held the line. Not at all disturbed by the possibility our LAIs were going to war over petty details and leaving us hanging in the wind, I moved closer to Tank.

“Well shit,” Tank said. “Clak and his is ugly twin Roos decided to make an appearance.”

“Don’t tease us. Give me details.” I aimed the scope of my rifle toward the clearing. “Never mind, I see them.”

Path, Carnax, and the others gathered close. Rizz and Journ hung back.

“I would like to have a sword saint conversation with the man who put us on this moon,” Path said. “One on one.”

“Are you embarking on a vendetta?” I asked.

“Of course not. My order is above such things.” Path’s expression betrayed more emotion than normal, all of it suggesting he was lying for the first time.

“Bad odds,” Carnax said.

“They won’t expect an attack,” Bug offered. “Tell me I’m wrong, but they’re not taking off. That could be good or bad.”

“Might mean they are hoping we do try something stupid, or it could mean they’re having trouble with the suicide drone,” I said. “After our experience with one of those things, I wouldn’t want it on my ship until I was sure it was under control.”

“Excellent analysis,” X-37 said.

“Capture the traitors. Torture them on the way to Scheid’s flagship. Make them regret their disloyalty,” X-98 blurted.

“Go into combat mode, X-98,” Tank said. Silence followed. After a few seconds, he looked at me with a rare smile. “That actually worked. I might have to keep him in CM forever.”

“Not recommended,” X-37 said. “There are limits to override controls.”

I listened but focused on the void ship parked on a suboptimal landing zone. The area was too flat, too low, and hard to defend. Starfalls gathered around the perimeter, fortified their positions by digging in, and waited—for us.

Everyone knew what had to happen. They had a ship. We needed a ship. Staying on Reserve 13 was a death sentence. I could practically feel one of the snakes eating me in my sleep. Or poison killing us when we ate the wrong fruit. If that wasn’t enough, I had no doubt Clakion would return with reinforcements and zero patience.

“It’s decision time,” I said, looking at Carnax. The man was tired, sad, and nothing close to the confident battle commander I’d first met.

“Journ thinks she can fight if we pump her full of enough drugs. The stimulants will keep her going long enough to really hurt herself. I’m against the idea, but she refuses to be left behind,” he said.

“You’re the boss,” I said. “Why are you asking?”

“Excellent question.” He looked at his hands for a second. “I never really need to give orders. My team and I are always on the same page. This is a new feeling. Not a fan.”

I didn’t envy him. My own experience with leading troops was never as easy as a solo mission where I could just be a Reaper.

He slipped away to have a talk with his Destroyers. A surprisingly short time later, he returned with Rizz.

Tank, Bug, and Path joined our circle.

“So we’re doing this?” Tank asked.

“I don’t see that we have a choice,” Carnax said. “Let’s make it quick. No messing around.”

Bug and I locked gazes. He spoke first. “There’s only one way to make this happen.”

My stomach fell at the idea. Prisoner ruses rarely went well when I was involved. “Tank, can you and your LAI pretend to switch sides?”

“I can,” he joked. “I was already thinking about picking a winning team for once. X-98 is more single minded.”

“Processing the implications of this conversation,” X-98 said.

“Help him along, X,” I signaled covertly.

“Already on it, Reaper Cain.”

X-98 beeped, to get our attention, presumably. “I can carry out this tactic. Reaper Tank will turn you over to the Starfall Obsidian traitors, and we will slaughter them mercilessly—keeping the leaders for future interrogation and imprisonment, of course.”

The LAI’s voice sounded evil on the direct radio link. Limited in range, this conversation was unlikely to be intercepted unless Clakion’s thugs knew exactly where we were and were scanning for unsecured comms networks.

“It might be more realistic if he took me prisoner as well,” Bug said. “Not that I like the idea of going in there bound and unarmed.”

“I will also be a prisoner,” Path said. “Unarmed fighting will catch them off guard.”

“We’re not all galactic hand-to-hand combat masters,” Bug said, his face flushing with the realization of what could happen.

“You will do well, Bug,” Path assured.

“I’ll carry your weapons in a pack and drop it once all hell breaks loose,” Tank said.

Carnax joined the planning. “Rizz and I can snipe four of them before they react.”

I let out a sigh. “We better get started. If they solve their suicide drone problems and take off, we’re snake food.”

Bug and Path exchanged several jokes along this theme as we readied ourselves—stashing weapons in Tank’s bag and forging loose restraints around our arms.

My spine tingled. I stared into the forest to see the Maglan Gray watching us. No one else noticed. I decided not to say anything. His presence meant something, but I had realized a while ago that my obsession with the creatures was unexplainable.

* * *

Tank gripped my hair in his oversized fist as he pressed the barrel of his pistol against my temple. “If you assholes are going to shoot, shoot the Reaper. I’m on your side now. Tired of losing with this loser!”

None of the Starfall Obsidians laughed.

“Tough crowd,” Tank muttered.

“We’ll be dead soon, so it won’t matter,” Bug replied, head down as he feigned submission.

I turned my mirth into a pain filled grimace—or at least I hoped that was what it looked like. Keeping a straight face was harder with my head pulled back. We had chosen this approach because it allowed him to conceal the weapons strapped to my back with his bulk. The moment we separated, the ruse was over and it was time for someone to die.

Clakion stepped away from the ship with several of his clones flanking him. “Doubtful, Tank. But I know you’re an opportunist. Maybe you finally understand who the boss is in this sector. That’s me, in case you’re too stupid to follow my humor.”

“This guy is such a prick,” I mumbled, head down as I tried to look beaten and helpless. “Where is Roos?”

X-37 answered with information forwarded by X-98. The twin lurked at the top of the ramp, weapon in hand. The guy was quiet and suspicious. Perfect for ruining this type of scam.

Carnax, Rizz, and Journ waited in the trees. For one second, I thought I heard Journ’s misery. Her pain was out of control without the drugs that made her unsteady on her feet and overly emotional. The woman was tough, but everyone had limits. Fighting meds were mostly stimulants.

“What’s the matter, Tank? Why the long pause? Didn’t you hear me? I’m the ruler Scheid can never be. I’m your master now. Prove your fealty. Slay the Reaper and fall on your knees. You’re nothing but a failed experiment. I’ll hear your supplication once your hands are soaked in Halek Cain’s blood.”

“Kind of long winded,” I muttered.

Tank advanced toward Clakion and the first row of Starfall Obsidians. “Never thought I’d say this, but I wish Scheid was here. I’d love to see how that goes.”

“What are you muttering about?” Clakion demanded, the pitch of his voice climbing. Eyes too wide, the man looked like he’d already misplaced a couple of sandwiches from his mental buffet bar.

Behind him, his twin was cool as ever. I started to wonder if the brothers weren’t as treacherous to each other as they were to everyone else. “X, I think Roos is manipulating Clak.”

“You may be correct but there is no time to expound upon your theory,” X-37 said.

Tank pushed me forward. One of the flanking Starfalls spotted the gear strapped to my back and raised his rifle to his shoulder. Tank shot him in the face, not killing him because of the armor and a bad angle, but smashing him off his feet.

I pulled a pistol in my right hand and the ax in my left. Bug grabbed at shotgun before we parted ways. Spreading out, we shot first and asked questions later.

Path leapt through the air, kicking Clak square in the chest. The man’s armor protected him but he was also slammed off his feet.

Knocking enemies down wasn’t the same as killing them. Our plan was already failing.

Carnax and Rizz opened fire from their concealed position. The ship guns raked the trees with chain guns, blasting leaves, branches, and tree bark into the air. The noise deafened us, but not the Obsidians with their noise-cancelling helmets.

Really should have seen that coming.

Tank roared and charged up the ramp, ignoring the Starfalls we didn’t kill. X-37 shouted at me to follow him but I was already moving that direction.

“Take the ship!” I shouted.

Path and Bug ran to our aid.

Two Starfalls tackled Bug, holding him down with the augmented strength and weight of their armor. Another pair had a harder time with Path. He was smaller, but hard to hold for long. In other circumstances, it would have been fascinating to watch.

We were running out of time. The only things going for us was their decision to capture two of my friends and the fact Tank and I were too close to the ship to get murdered by the ship gun.

Carnax, Rizz, and Journ made a break, sprinting like only Destroyers could up the ramp. The ship gun cut a swath of death right behind them, slicing a pursuing Starfall in half, armor or no armor.

Roos and a full squad of Starfall clones blocked us at the top of the ramp. His soldiers had their rifles ready. He stood with his arms crossed like a disappointed school master, or maybe a gunnery sergeant.

Clakion stormed through our ranks to harass his brother. “Why aren’t you killing them?”

Roos drew his pistol and fired in my direction but missed. The easy shot made little sense until I heard Carnax swearing and Rizz wailing.

I aimed my pistol at Roos and warded off the others with the small utility ax. “What the hell was that? You already won!”

He said nothing. Clakion laughed and did a jig.

“Fucking crazy as a wet cat,” Tank muttered.

Roos fired again, punching a hole in Rizz’s chest, then at Bug when he broke free of his guard to dive at Roos’s gun arm.

I fired, striking Roos’s helmet an instant after the visor dropped into place. His guard came at me. I proved the ax could smash through their neck armor when there was enough Reaper rage behind the swing. Starfall blood sprayed above the commotion.

Four Starfalls tackled me to the deck. Three took down Tank, a fact I only realized because X-37 and X-98 were posting details in our shared HUD. Weird which facts popped into view during a crisis. Point was, it took more of them to restrain me. I was definitely giving him hell about that—if we survived this debacle.

Desperation makes unwinnable plans appealing. Lately, that seemed to be every encounter we had with Clak, Roos, and their clones.

“Kill them all!” Clakion ordered. His Starfalls flooded the loading area at the top of the ramp. Divided loyalty was easy to see now. The twins had rebelled against Scheid, but weren’t the steadfast allies I had assumed they were.

Maybe that would save us.

Who was I kidding? Journ was already dead. Rizz and Bug were next if they didn’t get medical attention. I had a knee pressing the side of my face to the deck.

A howl cut through Clakion’s rant even as his soldiers forced us onto our knees and placed guns to the backs of our heads. A chorus of animal voices joined the animal song.

I gazed into the clearing and saw a circle of Maglan beasts gathering around the tortured trees and bullet shredded meadow. Five, ten, then twenty or thirty creatures surrounded the ship. The gray Maglan hunter called more of his kind, but other animals answered the cry as well. They swayed on their feet as they added unique voices to the song of foreboding.

“What the void death is that?” Clakion demanded, his gun dropping slightly as he stared in wonder.

Roos put a hand on his shoulder, then guided the weapon into its holster. “Now isn’t the time for us to fight.” He left his brother to stare at the strange gathering. Moments later their Starfall Obsidians had abandoned their divisive ranks and reassembled as one functioning unit.

“Put the Destroyer and the one they call Bug in cryo-pods,” Roos said.

A pair of Starfalls obeyed immediately.

“Those pods are meant for rest aid,” Clakion said, snapping out of his reverie.

“A temporary solution,” Roos said. “Killing them would be wasteful. Perhaps they will ensure the cooperation of the last Reaper and his friends.”

I glared at the man. Sure I was glad he’d done something for Rizz and Bug, but I held no illusions. Something malevolent tainted his gaze. My gut clenched. I couldn’t look away. We locked eyes for an uncomfortably long time. The only thing that broke it was his soldiers dragging me away from Tank and the others.

“My analysis suggests he is worse than Scheid,” X-37 said. “Something I had not factored as a possibility before now.”

“Clakion is the lunatic,” I argued.

“Dangerous in the short term.” X paused. “I am gathering all possible data on Roos. You have been warned, Reaper Cain. Roos is the real threat.”

“Everyone is a real threat,” I said.

Tank heard me, either because we were both getting pushed down a short hallway or because our LAIs were still sharing a link. “You got that right, Bio.”

* * *

Every part of my body ached when I awoke. The Starfalls had celebrated their reunification by kicking my ass until they were tired. Roos’s soldiers held me while Clakion’s men punched me, then they traded.

X-37 made several notes about how they seemed relieved their bosses hadn’t gone to war. I couldn’t find the energy to care. Good for them. Freaking fantastic.

Light hurt my eyes when the door opened. “I said no room service, you assholes.”

Roos squatted over me. “Settle down, Reaper. I have a proposition.”

“I’m listening, but only with one ear. I think your boys burst one of my eardrums,” I said, forcing myself into a sitting position in the corner of my cell.

He smiled. “They are spirited.”

“They’re as bad as Clakion.” I knew I’d struck a chord by his reaction.

His face tightened, but only for a second. “Growing a clone is easier than socializing one. Compromises were made. If you understood Scheid, you would know why we must break free of him.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” It wasn’t my best joke, but I had a concussion.

“Ask Tank about the purge,” he said, then changed direction. “Your clone is an interesting case. He’s remarkably individualized. Apparently, that is a common problem with the Halek Cain models.”

I connected the dots. “Scheid purges the ones who don’t fall in line.”

Roos nodded. “He does, but that is not the end of it. Once he completed the first purge, he developed a taste for it. My brother was one of the best military scientists in the Zakion system before Scheid lured us to his cause. He made the clone program scalable.”

“Not something to brag about,” I said.

He sneered. A shadow seemed to pass over his expression. “We are not friends, Halek Cain. Do not presume otherwise.”

“I want to see Rizz and Bug.” The question was a test. I doubted he would consider the demand.

“It will be done before you are released,” he said. “You must do something for me. Humanity’s existence is at stake, so listen closely.”

“Beware of this bargain, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned.

“You have my attention,” I said.

He continued after a dramatic pause. The man’s gaze was disconcerting, cutting through my confidence like a sharp knife. Few people had this ability to see into another person’s soul. I’d been all across the galaxy and witnessed a handful of individuals. Path was one. Tom was another. The revelation surprised me. Against all odds, I was surrounded by people who thought and felt deeply.

But not like Roos. He was probably the devil.

“I will need a legion of Shae volunteers for neural wiring and cybernetic shielding against AIs,” he said.

“Godsdammit, that isn’t something I can provide.” My mind raced. “Things didn’t go well on Camis Shae. You would have better luck negotiating with them.”

“I know more of your history than most,” he said. “If anyone can find a way, it’s the last Reaper and his friends. Hear me, Halek Cain, if you fail to comply, humanity will be erased in less than a year regardless of what other efforts are made to stop Drakainis. She is the only enemy who matters now. If you are forced to choose between me, my brother, or even Scheid and Drakainis, don’t pick the Darkness AI.”

“He may have a point,” X-37 said.

“Put me in charge of the galactic resistance. Gather my Shae legion. That is your only choice.” His words filled the small room with gravity.

“I could make you kill me,” I countered.

He smiled thinly. “You have too much of a hero complex for such selfishness. Do that, and everyone you care about will suffer—but not for long. Drakainis will melt their minds until they are obedient drones, organic slaves of a digital master.”

“I really hate you.”

He leaned close. “Good.”

A shudder ran through my body. I tried to hide it. X-37 manipulated my biometrics as best he could. None of it helped. All I could feel was a sense of doom.

“My brother will be furious,” he said as he walked toward the door. “You and your friends should start running the moment I release you. Make the right decision.”

18

Roos waved his hand. His personal guards pushed Tank, Path, Carnax, and me out of the ship. “There is a citizen hunting lodge nearby. My agents stocked it well. There may even be a ship appropriate to your needs. Remember what I said about running, Halek Cain. My brother will wake up soon, and he won’t be happy.”

The ramp raised, sealing off access to the interior. Engines flared, driving the vessel skyward.

“Let’s haul ass,” I said, starting for the edge of the clearing the moment the void ship passed out of view over the trees.

“What about Rizz and Bug?” Carnax demanded.

“Later. We have one chance. Do you want to waste it?” I asked.

Carnax didn’t look happy, but he took the lead. Path brought up the rear. Tank matched my stride, glaring down at me with suspicion whenever he had the chance.

“What did you do, Bio?”

“What do you think?”

He cursed. “Can’t believe you made a deal with Roos. Please tell me it was a good one.”

“It’s not.” I pushed the pace. Whenever I gained on Carnax, he accelerated until we were all miserable. Tank ran well but seemed distracted. I would need to switch positions with him soon. For now it was best he burn away some of his frustration.

“No weapons. No armor. Half our team gone. Stranded on a citizen hunting moon. This is rich,” Tank grumbled. “Definitely a bad bargain.”

I ignored him. More than half our team was gone, because most of Carnax’s troops were trapped on a prison ship or worse. But that wasn’t a detail I thought would help anyone’s mood. X-37 displayed maps and warnings on my HUD. We rested every twenty or thirty minutes, then pushed even harder toward the distant lodge. We rotated positions, keeping the column as fresh as possible.

Roos had put us down in a new section of Reserve 13. Dangerous animals watched from tree branches. Suspicious ground growth quivered under our feet. We didn’t slow down to see what would happen if twitching vines had a chance to get to know us. After another hour, I heard the resonant howl of a familiar animal.

A thrill went through me as I searched our back trail for the Maglan beast. It wasn’t long before I spotted the distinctive gray fur flashing between trees as the creature ran. Several others followed slightly behind and off to each side, their thick manes streaming in the wind of their passage, muscles flexing and relaxing with grace and power. Most were deep brown or red-orange. A few were black. None of them were escorting younglings like the one I had met near my Maglan estate.

Tank rejoined me. “Your friend is back.”

He knew I heard him, so I didn’t bother to respond. “Carnax, find a defensible place to rest.”

“We need water,” he agreed. “And some of that fruit if we can find it.”

Path caught up with Tank and me. “You see what is following us?”

“The Maglan Gray,” I said. “This guy really gets around.”

“The Reserve 13 moon isn’t that large. There are only five hunting lodges here, all of them near enough to each other to offer support—and to facilitate social gatherings I assume,” X-37 said. “My maps are coming together more the farther we travel.”

Carnax led us to a pond fed by a modest waterfall. A stream trickled away to the east, bubbling over smooth rocks. Defensible on three sides, the site wasn’t the worst location Reserve 13 had to offer. “This is the best I can do.”

I heard what he said, though my attention was on the Maglan beasts fading into the wilderness. Old Gray didn’t want to chat, apparently. He’d brought his pack just close enough for a display of power.

Path joined me in the moment of silence. “The creature moves well—supremely tuned to its environment. While I would like to assume solidarity, that may not be the case. We are all prisoners on this world, but it does not guarantee our status. We are prey.”

“I should be freaked out. I mean, what was it doing when we were captured?” Thinking back, I could still see animals joining the creature’s mournful song and the way Clakion and Roos had wanted nothing to do with the spectacle. “It interfered with the Starfalls—distracted them at least.”

“Perhaps they were seen as prey as well,” Path speculated. “Crunchy prey with dangerous weapons.” He grew more serious. “Few of the animals we have seen belong on this place, yet they adapt. The gray beast was stolen from Maglan and put here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. I met one near my estate,” I said.

He nodded. “The citizens of Oroth act irresponsibly.”

“Understatement of the year,” Carnax said as he joined us. “Are we going to raid the hunting lodge or not? Now is the time to plan the operation.”

“A perfect plan would be best,” Path said. “Either way, Karma will take them.”

“Don’t know what that is,” Tank said. “But I’m not waiting for it to happen. Bio, stop staring after the gray thing and put your hotshot Reaper training to work.”

I backed away from the wilderness and joined my friends near the pond. We drank from the crystal-clear water and ate hard purple fruits and wild vegetables X-37 thought were safe. The fruit was sweet, the other plants fibrous and bland.

I drew a map with X-37’s help, and we put our heads together. “Surveillance first, but it needs to be quick. We don’t have much time. Clakion gets crazier each time we run into him. He might just nuke the reserve this time.”

“Two teams,” Tank suggested, then pointed at me. “You with the sword saint, and me with the Destroyer. We’ll use our LAIs to communicate.”

“Good call.” I added details to the map. “What is our comms range, X?”

“Two hundred meters maximum. One hundred would be better,” X-37 and X-98 said at the same time.

“Apologies,” X-98 added. “I wish to be helpful. My host will not be able to surrender his worthless husk of betrayal to Lord Scheid if he is dead, and since my analysis no longer views self-termination as a useful option, we must soldier onward.”

“That’s the spirit, 98,” I said.

Tank glared at me.

“Path and I will scout the perimeter of the lodge. X-37 will send tactical information to X-98. We’ll rendezvous here for final details. There won’t be a lot of options—sneak in, avoid or eliminate guards if they have any, acquire weapons and hostages in that order, then steal a ship.”

“If there is a ship,” Carnax said.

“Roos wants us to do something,” I said. “There will be a ship.”

Tank huffed. “Wants you to do something.”

I ignored the HC clone. “Path, let’s do this.”

He stood from a crossed-leg position. “This time, you must lead.”

“Stay close.” The animal trail twisted up the slope, weaving between trees, around rocks, and over tributary streams. The gas giant glowed bright on the horizon. This created shadows but would expose us if we needed to cross a clearing.

“Moons are terrible places to fight,” Path said as we hiked.

“You were in the Union military.” I had always suspected he received advanced training but was never able to get him to talk about it.

“I was,” he said. “They called us Vanguards. Much of our work was off the books, deep into the deadlands where the Union wasn’t supposed to be. Neutral worlds whose local cabals had paid the right people to be left alone.”

“Risky.” I knew all about the double dealing nature of Union politicians. It had been a long time since I really thought about their duplicity. “Paying one corrupt Union official does nothing to modify the behavior of all the other greedy bastards.”

“This was exactly the case. We were sent in to find reasons for Union intervention. I left the unit when we were asked to invent these reasons, usually by blowing something up,” he said.

“Terrorist suppression. Classic.” I could have said more. What he didn’t know was that Reapers had been used to do the actual dirty work, planting evidence, securing confessions, and tying off loose ends. I had avoided the work but only by taking even more dangerous single target missions deep in the political heart of the government.

Path stopped short of a stream we needed to cross. “How long did it take you to realize your mistake?”

That took me back to the bridge with Novasdaughter’s mother. Memories of my arm getting shot off and her falling from the blasted bridge felt far too real even now. “I knew I was screwed before they offered me the job.”

“How can that be?” he asked. “A premonition perhaps?”

“Sure. Something like that. Or just my natural pessimism.”

This caused him to smile. “You are the most optimistic person I know, Hal. But don’t worry, I will tell no one.”

“Stick to sword sainting. Your psychotherapy chops are weak.” I was starting to enjoy this mission. The feeling wouldn’t last. For now, I had one good friend and a mission. That was my life. Once we got Bug and Rizz back, I’d think of this moment fondly.

“No one could continue against such odds—over and over again—without being a master of optimism.” He smiled but was also completely serious.

I restrained a laugh. “You got me all wrong. Stubborn meanness, that’s what keeps me going.”

“Whatever you say, Reaper.”

I updated Tank via our LAI comms. Path and I climbed the final trail, moving slowly without talking. We stopped frequently to watch and listen.

He guided me off the trail, then worked his way forward by what seemed an unnecessarily complicated route. I watched in fascination as he carefully placed a leafy branch over a black box with several lenses.

We moved past it as X-37 warned X-98 of the camera box. “It could easily have microphones and motion detectors. Please watch for similar devices, and not just on the ground. Some will be mounted above eye level unless the security teams are incompetent.”

I stopped Path once we were safely away from the device. “Good catch. I didn’t see that one.”

“Unnatural things are easy to spot in a place this raw,” he said. “We were talking too much.”

“No regrets. That’s the best conversation we’ve had since whiskey and cigar time—like a thousand years ago,” I said.

“I enjoy the time. You enjoy the whiskey.”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “You got it.”

“We should proceed single file.” He selected a branch that looked sturdy enough to be a walking stick—or a deadly weapon in his hands. “The way is narrow, and the hunting lodge is close.”

* * *

Path and I spent the entire night creeping around the lodge, marking guard posts, surveillance devices, and weak spots in the perimeter fence. Tank and Carnax held a secluded glen we designated as our base camp. With no gear or provisions, that just meant a place to sit and rest for a few hours.

Oroth citizens hired retired soldiers to provide security. Some they plucked at the height of their careers if what I’d seen so far was representative of their selection process. Others of the mostly male force had been elite operators, I thought, but were older. Still fit and steely eyed, these guards made their rounds with relaxed confidence and a greater reliance on coffee—or whatever crap stimulant drink they preferred.

What I didn’t smell was alcohol, tobacco, or anything similar. That indicated basic discipline. These and other factors worked against our chances of infiltrating the lodge.

In our favor was the over-reliance on electronic devices and their poor staffing levels. Most of their effort seemed directed at wildlife. If they expected a commando raid, it didn’t show.

Path led the way back to our base camp, while I brought up the rear in full Reaper mode, suspicious of countersurveillance. If I was in charge of security, there would be teams no one would ever see, at least one squad ready to follow curious people like Path and myself.

“I hope they don’t have Oroth Reapers,” I said when we were gathered around a rock eating raw fish Carnax had caught.

“Interesting way to start a conversation,” Tank said between mouthfuls. His expression was a mixture of hunger and horror.

“What’s the matter, Tank? Don’t like fish?” I asked.

“Not this fish,” he said but continued chewing and swallowing.

“Why are you worried about Oroth Reapers?” Carnax asked.

“I was thinking of how I would have set up their security.” My words affected each man differently, but they all took my point. Only Path really understood what a Reaper was. The others thought they knew, but they didn’t know the Union that created assassin shock troopers.

“I thought the same thing.” Carnax cleaned his hands with leaves as he talked. “My Destroyers would have made this place impossible to breach. There would be a real wall, not this wire mesh you found. The electronic devices would be coordinated with drones or maybe even a high altitude command vessel. There would be quick reaction teams in full armor deployable to any point on the perimeter within minutes.”

“Let’s hope none of that is in place,” Tank said. “You fucking assholes are going to jinx us.”

“It is best to be prepared,” Path said.

Tank huffed. “Yeah. Sure. Now what’s the plan?”

I drew a new map. “We found several decent approaches, but this is best. We’ll travel in a single file column with twenty meters of separation between us to avoid motion detectors and pressure plates that are sensitive to weight and volume of movement. The battle order is me, Carnax, Tank, and then Path. That evens out our comms and keeps our intelligence assets at each end of the line.”

“Basic military approach in this terrain,” Tank said. “I assumed you would have us all hitting different weak points simultaneously. Fancy bullshit is your style.”

“If we had comms, armor, and weapons, that might be my plan.” I waited for anything I’d missed to pop out of the clear night sky. “We must pass through the fence here, avoid the guards here, and enter the main lodge here. If there is a fight, we will need to concentrate our force—no solo brawls. Everyone watches everyone’s back. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Lame,” Tank said. “You’re a motivational speaker now?”

“Stealth is our best option.” Path smoothly continued the briefing. “Think of shadows slipping through the night.”

“And stealing guns,” Carnax said.

“Exactly.” I stood, wiping the fish oil from my hands with leaves. “Sunrise is in less than an hour. Now is the time, unless you want to squat here another day.”

“Screw that,” Tank said. “Let’s go be shadows.”

I led the way up the now familiar trail, moving slightly faster but still watching for security cameras, listening devices, or motion detectors we missed. Stopping often, going completely prone when necessary, I used all my Reaper skills and patience.

A morning patrol passed twenty meters from our column. Waiting for them to disappear down another trail felt like an eternity. The horizon grew brighter—sun on one horizon and glowing glass giant on the other. This place was never truly dark. On the positive side, shadows lurked everywhere—like otherworldly brethren from a life I thought I left behind.

“They have moved beyond effective detection range,” X-37 advised. “Path gave the message to Tank. X-98 relayed the information.”

“Good.” I crawled to the fence and peeled up the bottom.

“You were not electrocuted,” X-37 said helpfully. “Good work, Reaper Cain. I see no sensors. Up close, this appears to be a simple fence.”

“Great. Glad you have my back, X. Tell Tank to bring the team forward.” I crawled under the gap, staying low until I reached the first outbuilding. There were lights on the side facing the main lodge, but nothing on the other three sides. In this case, the rising sun and looming gas giant created deep shadows right where I needed them.

Carnax, Tank, and Path joined me.

“I heard commotion from one of the guard posts,” Path said. “The experience was alarming as I was halfway through the gap when guards started shouting.”

“The dumbasses don’t use their radios enough.” Tank’s disdain wasn’t disguised. “They must think they’re the ones on vacation.”

A chorus of Maglan beast howls filled the dawn. Other animals joined in, but from a greater distance. Squads of guards double-timed their way to the other side of the compound.

“No way,” Tank said. “These things are freaking me out. How can they be smart enough to create a distraction?”

“The better question is why would they.” I moved for a better view, directing my gaze across a manicured lawn, walking paths, and colorful gardens that had little in common with the natural flora and fauna of the moon.

Two security teams assembled around the main gate that closed off a paved road twisting into the forest below. A sergeant selected two men who mounted the catwalk and took a few potshots at creatures I couldn’t see from my vantage point.

“That is not the most interesting development,” Path said, directing my attention the other way.

Along the opposite fence were several Maglan beasts, Old Gray prominent among them. He stared at me with golden eyes and more intelligence than a horned lion bear thing should have. I remembered the mother and her cubs. We hadn’t been able to communicate, and I didn’t expect anything different now.

Still… something was happening. The fact that I dreamed of the creatures after leaving Maglan made everything even more surreal. Dawn light reflected off their fur. Old Gray was awash with red, yellow, and orange light.

“That one is afire with majesty,” Path said.

“Didn’t know you were a poet,” Tank grumbled. “Let’s go while the guards are screwing off.”

I waited a second longer than my friends and was awarded with a powerful image. For several seconds, the Maglan beast and her cubs stood before me, so real I thought I could touch them. The female was lean, possibly near starvation, but the cubs had gained weight and were losing their baby fur in favor of the longer, slightly more coarse adult version.

“Where is she?” I asked aloud.

“Where is who?” X-37 sounded tense. My LAI was always on the alert for my mental breakdown. Why couldn’t it happen now? Stress, hunger, fatigue—all the ingredients for some crazy time were there.

Tank and the others had been moving out but returned to gather around me. “What’s going on, Bio? Are you talking to that thing—like with an animal LAI or something.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I turned away from the majestic creatures. “Just remembered something. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get to work.”

19

This time we rushed across the lawn as a single unit. If the guards saw us, we didn’t hear—or feel—their response. I bounded onto the spacious back deck and landed as quietly as I knew how, then glided toward a two meter tall glass door ready to slide sideways on precision rails.

Path came next. Carnax followed and helped search the deck that went all the way to the edge of the lodge. Nothing popped up from under tables or behind lounge chairs. The liquor cabinet was a pleasant surprise—and locked, of course. Tank held the stairs to our new, very exposed position.

“Patrol coming this way,” he said. “Not sure if they detected our rush or are merely returning to their jobs. Get us inside, Bio.”

I pulled on the glass door and slid it out of our way. It wasn’t locked. Their security at this point was nonexistent.

Inside, a woman and a man, neither wearing more than a silk robe, held steaming mugs of something as they stared wide-eyed. Both were middle aged but surgically altered to appear as young and attractive as possible.

“You’re not on the security team,” the man said.

“On the contrary, we totally are,” I improvised. “New unit. We’re running a test. Making sure your guards are up to par.”

“Are they?” the man asked nervously.

“No.” I grabbed him by the throat before he could shout a warning. Path seized the woman with a bit more consideration for her raw terror.

“You lied?” the man managed, sounding betrayed and still confused.

“Unbelievable, Reaper Cain. They bought your lame act,” X said.

I was thinking the same thing as I released my grip and held one finger up to demand his silence. “Uh, this is part of the scenario. We’re supposed to take you hostage and see what they do.”

Tank jumped into the ruse. “We’ll pretend to kill you when they make the assault and spirit you away on your ship.” He hesitated, casting his glance my way. “My money is they screw it up unless we take this all the way. You know these security teams. They don’t perform unless they really believe it’s a real kidnapping. That’s why my excitable partner is so rough. He’s a rookie.”

Path carefully released the woman, giving her an awkward head nod of apology.

The man’s face flushed red, and he fiddled with his silk shirt-robe, as though this would be his failure as well as theirs. His partner narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, obviously suspicious, but quickly switched to excitement. Her eyes ran up and down my body until I was weirdly uncomfortable.

“We’ve done a bit of theatre,” the man said. “You may remember us from The Force That Took Victano 5.”

“Oh, yeah. That one scene was amazing.” I tried to look starstruck—wide eyes and all. He glowed with satisfaction as the woman touched my arm... a lot.

“You’re too kind. We’re but humble actors on the galactic stage,” he said. “What do we need to do?”

I counter grabbed the woman’s searching hand, stopping it before this became a date, then spoke to both of them. “How many citizens are here at the moment?”

“It’s just us,” he said. “Celia and I came ahead of the main part to make sure all was in order… and to get a real vacation. Our work is very tiring. We spend several hours a week looking to the good of the Sovereignty.”

“Several hours,” Carnax repeated, deadpan.

“Yes. High quality, focused time. We have workers for the labor, and accountants for finances, and soldiers for well you know all about that,” the man said. “We raised millions for the preservation of interstellar bacteria.”

“What’s your name?” I cringed at the mistake.

Both of my new friends looked hurt.

“Part of the act.” I pointed to security cameras and stage whispered. “The oversight committee watches everything.”

He smiled but forced his expression—not just his face but his entire demeanor—to incredulous shock. One hand went to his hip, the other motioned to emphasize his words. “Wouldn’t you know that already?” He pointed at me, brave for the camera. “Your accent is strange. Maybe I should ask who you are and see some credentials.”

“Name,” I repeated.

“My real name,” he whispered. “Or do I need a script or something? Improvisation is fun but not the style these days, am I right? Oh, blast. You’re good. Absolutely the most terrifying man I’ve ever had the misfortune to get choked by.” He stood straighter, cleared his throat, and went to work. “I am Lord Manager Capious Tatasam, trustee of Reserve 13, Chief Executive Officer of Fleet Seventy-eight, Warden of Helidale…”

“Gotcha. Just had to ask. Part of the scenario.” My eyes surveyed the room for X-37. This was going better than planned but felt like a disaster waiting to happen. “We’ll call you Tatasam and her Celia.”

“That seems unnecessarily casual despite this security scenario or whatever,” Tatasam said. “I really should call this in and check with my secretary. She promised my schedule had been completely cleared.”

“I think it’s exciting. When was the last time we had some real fun, Tata?” Celia asked, moving in to run one hand up my arm, shoulder, and across my chest.

“Tata?” Tank asked. “You call him Tata? Nice.”

I sidestepped away from Celia and waved Tank quiet. We were already pushing our luck with this scam. “Take us to the ship.”

“Weapons first,” Carnax said. “Citizens are dangerous. As defenders of the stars, they’re required to have more than hunting rifles.”

Tatasam studied him for a long second. “You look familiar.”

“I was an extra in The Force That Took Victano 5. My scene got cut. Mark Glapper thought my entire squad overacted,” Carnax said.

“That’s right,” Tatasam said, then leaned toward Carnax conspiratorially. “Glapper told me your team’s tactics weren’t realistic—nowhere near good enough to pass for real soldiers.”

“Brilliant director,” Celia added, jumping into the new conversation as she crossed her arms and watched me coldly.

“Danger, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said, flashing icons in my HUD to emphasize the warning. “Not only has this woman marked you for a private interrogation of some sort, but she is also growing skeptical of the entire situation. You should have been nicer to her. Perhaps pat her down for weapons like she is attempting on you.”

“That’s not what she’s doing, X,” I signaled. “Now put a sock in it.” It was time to take charge. “Weapons first, then the ship. The scenario is almost over. Your team is far below the minimum standard. I’m afraid that won’t reflect well on you, Lord Tatasam.”

He flourished both hands. “Right this way. Don’t shoot. We’re complying.”

“Somebody rescue me,” Celia cried.

Path pressed close to her, taking hold of her arm. “That is too loud, Lady Celia.”

Her breath caught as she gave him the visual once-over and feigned helplessness.

“Do not force me to get rough with the most beautiful woman in the Zakion system,” Path said.

“Oh my,” she said, her focus sliding away from me and to the sword saint.

Tatasam took us to a vault with real military weapons but no armor and nowhere near enough ammunition to qualify either of the citizens as protectors of the stars. We took it all and rushed them toward the back of the estate.

Their pleasure yacht was the least military vessel I’d seen since the Lady Faith II, but the sight of her warmed my Reaper soul.

Path and Carnax rushed inside and ran through start-up procedures. Tank and I held Tatasam and Celia at gunpoint in the garishly decorated hangar.

“Don’t you have to take us onto the ship to complete the scenario?” Tatasam asked.

“We’re ready, Halek Cain,” Carnax shouted from inside.

“Your security team failed,” I said. “You really should fire them.”

“Bye,” Tank added. “And no one watched The Force That Took Victano 5. Second rate cinematic garbage.”

The ramp closed behind us as the ship launched toward the sky.

I strapped into the first safety chair I found—a velvet covered monstrosity on one wall of the storage bay. Tank plopped down beside me.

“That was the strangest thing I’ve ever done,” he said.

We burst into laughter.

Carnax’s voice interrupted from the cockpit down the hall. “Slight problem.”

I put one hand on my seat harness, ready to release it if I was attacked. Mobility was more important than safety.

“There’s a crew on this ship,” Tank said slightly before Carnax also broke the news.

Two pilots stepped into the cargo area, aiming pistols at us.

“Apparently this ship rates a pilot, a copilot, and a backup team,” X-37 said. “I have control of the security systems but cannot fly the ship. Please liberate Path and Carnax so they can attend to that not so minor detail.”

“They can take care of themselves, X. You know that.” I kept my eyes on the man approaching with the small handgun. He gripped it too forcefully and was moving far too close for his own good.

To my amazement, he took the seat next to me, gun practically touching my face.

“I don’t know who in the void trash you are, but my ship tells me you’re not authorized to be here. And where is Tata and his hot girlfriend,” the backup pilot said.

I resisted the urge to take the gun and beat him with it. “Check again.”

He tensed. “What?”

“Check with your ship again,” I said.

He pressed the collar of his uniform shirt. “Computer, check the authorized passenger manifest. Password is Victano 12345.”

“All occupants of the Galaxy’s Pleasure are present and accounted for. You are not authorized to know their names or detain them in any way,” a ship speaker answered.

The backup pilot holstered his weapon like holding it would burn his hand.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Just doing my job. Didn’t realize you were on their party list.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Go back to your room. Lock yourself in. We’ll take it from here.”

All four pilots complied. Tank agreed to stand guard outside their cabin doors. I joined Path and Carnax in the cockpit, plopping down in an empty chair. A metal can with a pull tab sat in the armrest cup holder. I pulled the tab, which instantly cooled the beverage and filled the room with a wonderful aroma.

“Is this a beer? In the cockpit?” I asked.

“Yes, if beer is the same thing as grand-ale,” Carnax said. “You never know what to expect with citizens and their luxury vehicles.”

“Godsdammit, I’m tired. Next time let’s just fight our way onto the ship,” I complained, then slammed back a cold one.

“Check the other armrest, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

Never one to question my LAI, I opened a panel and found a pipe, a package of tobacco-like substance, and a heating element. “You’re the best, X.”

“So I’ve been told,” X-37 said.

“I hope you’re planning on passing that around,” Carnax said as he adjusted course. “It’s been a long day.”

“I will retrieve refreshments from the galley,” Path said. “After I check the ship for other surprises.”

Once Path was gone, I handed the pipe to Carnax, remembering something Jag had said about sharing a pipe. It seemed like something friends did.

“We’ll get Rizz and Bug back,” I said.

He nodded, then blew a decent smoke ring. “Of course. But it won’t be easy, and we’ll need to kill a lot of people.

“That’s what I do, Jude.” Using his first name might have been too much, but nothing a pipe, a few grand ales, and snacks couldn’t fix.

Carnax visibly relaxed with each pass of the pipe. “Roos is going to hope we get to him before the rest of my company does—assuming any of them are still alive.”

I signaled X-37 to search for news of the other JFT Destroyer prisoners, but he came back empty. Carnax didn’t need bad news. My LAI promised to let me know the moment he could confirm the Destroyers had survived execution.

20

“Good to see you again, Captain,” Jelly said. “Please excuse my appearance. Amii and Tom have worked heroically to put me back together.”

My ship’s battered condition hit me right in the gut. Red, orange, and primer gray panels covered rents in her hull. Tom’s shorthand was scrawled here and there, like he’d made the repairs himself and left notes on where to start next. Jelly looked half complete, like she should still be in a shipyard. This was total BS. Jelly didn’t deserve that kind of abuse.

I understood what it took to rebuild a starship, even one as small as the Jellybird. The people of Xad taught me how to scavenge debris fields and make ships that should have been abandoned reliable enough to cross the galaxy. The process wasn’t easy or safe.

Tom had fixed the Jellybird more times than I could count. I’d attempted to help, though most of the time he gave me the simplest of tasks, busy work an unskilled laborer could complete. I didn’t have one hundredth of his talent.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Jelly. Glad you made it,” I finally said, tempering my reaction.

“Tom saved me again,” she said. “Will you be coming aboard?”

“Of course.” The Galaxy’s Pleasure was stocked with my favorite vices but nearly worthless for Reaper work. Her armor was too light, her point defense weapons expensive but poorly situated on her style-dominant hull. Her designers must have believed it was better to look good than to perform.

She didn’t have stealth technology. In fact, I felt like every camera was wired directly to Oroth Council agents—the complete opposite of stealth. Carnax assured me that they spied on every citizen, despite dozens of laws forbidding the practice. Oroth kill teams were probably en route to our location even now.

“Commander Novasdaughter is preparing an airlock,” Jelly said. “Does the Galaxy’s Pleasure have a boarding tube, or shall I have Tom fashion one?”

Carnax answered for me. “We have something like that.”

“Tell Tom to be ready. Where is he?” I asked.

“Sleeping. Commander Novasdaughter ordered me not to wake him unless the ship was actually coming apart. He has been working nonstop,” Jelly said.

“What about Novasdaughter?” I already knew the answer.

“I’m fine, Reaper, and also listening,” she broke in. “Time enough to rest when we’re dead.”

“That’ll be sooner than you like with that attitude.” I stayed at the flight controls while Carnax went to prep the boarding tube. “Tank, if you’re on the channel, start stripping this yacht of everything but the bare essentials. We’ll disable the engines and comms before casting her adrift.”

“On it, Bio,” Tank said from somewhere else in the ship.

“This is becoming a pattern of behavior with you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Do you believe casting people into the void is a kindness?”

“Tank, leave resources and instruction manuals for the crew to put the Galaxy’s Pleasure back together after we’re gone. Make sure it will take them awhile,” I said. “X-37 is guilt tripping me again.”

“LAIs are like that,” Tank agreed. “I’ll take care of everything. The alcohol, tobacco, and coffee is already in crates and ready for transfer.”

“There’s a man who knows his priorities,” I said.

Novasdaughter clicked her mic several times, code for laughter. “Don’t take all day. There’s trouble in the Zakion system. Screw around and we’ll all get killed.”

“See you soon,” I said, then quickly reviewed information X-37 gathered. Novasdaughter wasn’t exaggerating. The Sovereignty of Oroth fleets were mobilizing. Unencrypted calls for every shipyard to mass produce weapons of war cluttered the long range communication waves. Thumbnail pictures in my HUD showed posters stoking the patriotic fervor in every city and orbital habitation.

Things were about to get nasty.

“Is that for us?” I asked X.

“Certainly, but also a call to defend this system against their historical enemies,” X-37 said. “They have a lot of those.”

* * *

The inside of the Jellybird was as battered as the exterior. Novasdaughter and Tom had shared the ship’s misfortune. Her face was a mass of healing bruises and lacerations. I also thought she was concealing burn wounds with her rolled down jumpsuit sleeves and pulled up collar. Tom wore a brace on his left knee and moved slowly. My snapshot diagnosis was that he had hurt his back, had suffered a few concussions, possibly had smoke inhalation, and hadn’t slept since the word was invented.

Jelly’s claim that he’d been in bed hadn’t been accurate, of course. A schematic of the ship poked out of his jumpsuit side pocket, and he was wearing a zero-g safe tool belt. Rings around his eyes caused him to look old. Even if the man had lain down, he’d been reading and making notes like a dedicated insomniac.

That crap was going to stop. No one was allowed to destroy themselves with sleep deprivation but me. My friends didn’t need my bad habits.

I gave them each a big Reaper hug. “Get some rest, both of you. I’ve got this watch.”

“Thought you would never ask,” Tom said. “Let me just remove those awful plates from your Reaper arms.”

I laughed. “Wasn’t asking. You too, Amii. Mandatory down time while I cut myself free in the workshop. I’ll be watching you two.”

“Thanks, Reaper.” She left the cockpit without arguing.

Tom hesitated. “Are you sure? It won’t take me an hour to remove the restraints. You need your hardware.”

The temptation to accept my mechanic friend’s help was almost too much, but I resisted. “X-37 will guide me through the process. It’s not like I’m rewiring anything.”

“Wait until I’ve slept. I’ll handle it first thing,” he insisted.

“Okay, Tom. Now go to your room. I’ve got this.” I guided him toward the door.

“That was real nice, Bio. Good of you to volunteer,” Tank said.

Before I knew it, I was alone with Jelly. Perfect, because I could make decisions with no pushback. X-37 agreed with what I wanted, for once.

“Find the Starfall ships, Jelly, and stay out of sight. We’ve got people to rescue,” I said, then dimmed the lights.

“Right away, Captain,” she said, changing course. “I’m worried about Bug.”

“Me too, Jelly.”

“Finding the battle group controlled by Clakion Starfall and his twin brother Roos will be easy. They harassed us while you were trapped on that fascinating moon. X-37 has also provided a play-by-play description of your misadventures—excellent work outsmarting the citizens on Reserve 13, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I scanned star maps and skimmed updates X normally handled for me. The routine helped me forget sleeping under trees full of snakes. Thoughts of the Maglan beasts wouldn’t quite go away, but that was fine. Their behavior remained a mystery I savored.

“X-37 believes there may be an opportunity to turn Clakion and Roos Starfall against Scheid and Drakainis,” Jelly said. “Please alert me if I am talking too much.”

“It’s all good, Jelly. Helps me think.”

“Excellent, Captain. X-37 also informed me that Roos demanded a legion of Shae to be modified in some undisclosed way. His claims that humanity would end if you refuse to comply are troublesome.”

“Everything about Roos and his brother is troublesome,” I said. “Turning my enemies against each other is great in theory but damn near impossible in reality.”

“It is good to appreciate our limitations, Captain,” Jelly agreed.

“X, pull up a primer on clone warfare. Start basic. I’ve got some time to kill.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.” X-37 pushed information onto one of Jelly’s screens. “This is organized by quality, then recency.”

“Doesn’t look like much,” I complained.

“Most of the available data reads like a science fiction novel. There are numerous reasons the Union never built an effective clone army,” X-37 said. “Scheid was a scientist before declaring himself a general. Never forget that. He parades like a battle-hardened warrior, but he is an inventor first.”

I reviewed theories and historical references.

“If you have enough to stay busy, I will be working with Jelly to update our Drakainis defense,” X-37 said.

“I’m good. Do what you’ve got to do.” Coffee kept me semi alert as I read boring facts and figures about the impossibility of maintaining a clone army. Every predictive model ended in disaster. Replicating a man or woman uniquely skilled for war nearly always ended in murderous rampage. One instance turned a trio into conscientious objectors living in a remote village of sheepherders—so that was good. One report had a clone disappearing into the criminal underground to a life of petty crime and general misery.

That sounded like Tank. My gut turned sour as I selected the abstract and waited for the full report. There, larger than life, was Tank. His clone number didn’t matter. I cursed and swiped that away. He’d told me at least two other numbers—which meant they were always bullshit. Tank definitely wasn’t his real name no matter what he claimed.

Mug shots filled the side panel. Summaries of arrests, attempted arrests, and outstanding Oroth warrants filled the main viewer.

I skipped ahead.

“How is this study published? Most of this should be closed criminal records. The cases are still open because he’s listed as wanted, not convicted,” I asked my LAI, forgetting he was busy building digital firewalls to resist Drakainis. The answer came slowly. I waited.

“Unknown, Reaper Cain, but this is interesting. I’ve located much more in my deep dive into Tank’s history. Let me summarize. His name is an acronym: Terror Actuated Nerve-ware Killer, Model 1. He volunteered for special nerve-ware in exchange for increased freedom,” X-37 explained. “It wasn’t long before he contacted James Henshaw to have the governors on his behavior removed. This worked, but he devolved into a pure killing machine. Search for the sealed criminal records in Oroth Prosecution District 98.”

“That’s the same number as his X unit,” I mumbled.

“Coincidence.” X-37’s word came slowly. He was definitely using most of his processing power to build defenses. “This report has an encrypted subroutine that may have been designed as a secret message for Tank or his handler if he has one. He is definitely a rogue operator. This must be a final attempt to lure him back to Scheid’s influence. He would search for information regarding his creation and get this data package. I’m unable to open the sealed records but did find a dozen therapies and lifestyle modifications he embraced to reduce his murderous nature.”

“Two questions. What is a Terror Assisted Nerve-ware Killer and why would Scheid make one?” The answer wouldn’t be good. My big brother had secrets sure as we both loved whiskey and cigars.

X-37 returned his full attention to our conversation, sparking a sensation similar to drinking my first cup of coffee for the day. “Interesting, Reaper Cain. Very, very interesting. And potentially useful.”

“Spill it, X.”

“Nonsensical metaphor logged for future analysis,” X-37 muttered. “Tank was created to kill LAIs, specifically, me. And you by proxy.”

“Say again?” Every good feeling I’d had about the man I’d come to see as a kind of brother soured. Betrayal was one thing. This was something so personal I could taste it.

“Cool your metaphorical jets, Reaper Cain. This may not be a bad thing,” X-37 said. “It seems that Scheid studied every attempt to eliminate you and other Reapers when the program was shut down. Most were overwhelmed by brute force—an entire Union battle group in one case—or treachery. You were confined to the Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison to buy time as a kill squad of Reaper replacements were developed.”

I thought back to Dreadmax. “Look how that worked out for them.”

“Focus, Reaper Cain. This report is loaded with hidden gems. One moment while I break through another password layer. Oh my, one of your peers was poisoned by whiskey and cigars.”

“You made that up.”

“Maybe, Reaper Cain. Oh look at this layer. So many passwords to decrypt.” X-37 made sounds I’d never heard from my LAI. “I believe this must be the mother lode of secret data.”

My LAI’s words set off internal alarms—not the nerve-ware kind. “Back out, X! It’s a trap! Scheid or Drakainis or whoever is drawing you down a rabbit hole.”

Silence, then, “You don’t even know what a rabbit is, Reaper Cain.”

“I know what the phrase means. Listen to me, X. What are the probabilities that we just stumbled across this information now? Maybe I don’t have your processing power, but I know when we’re about to get screwed.”

More silence.

I paced Jelly’s bridge.

“Captain, I have located the Starfall sub-fleet. Clakion and Roos are present, each in their own ship this time,” Jelly said.

“Not now, Jelly.”

“Standing by,” she said. “Have you been talking to X-37. We were deep in our preparations for our showdown against Drakainis. Your LAI excused himself and promptly went dark.”

“Hide the ship, then search for X-37 but do not, under any circumstances, contact him,” I said, heart pounding in my chest.

“Right away, Captain.” Jelly used her most official voice. She also acknowledged my orders on the holo viewer. “We have matched speed with the Starfall ships and gone into maximum stealth mode. Standing by.”

“Talk to me, X,” I said.

“Tank is unaware of his true purpose,” X-37 said.

“Godsdammit, X!”

“Frustration and anxiety detected. Were you concerned for my welfare, Reaper Cain?”

“Hell yes!”

“I heard your warning about the trap. Thank you for that. It may have saved me.”

“Why the actual void frak did you go anyway?”

X paused. “I followed your rather poor example of taking extreme risks for even the slightest gain.”

I started pacing again, not an easy task on Jelly’s cockpit-bridge.

“I was forced to quarantine the report and all other research I gathered on the subject of clone warfare,” X-37 said as though nothing had happened. “Please remember Tank’s acronym: Terror Actuated Nerve-ware Killer.”

“Got it. Tell me more.”

“One might substitute activated for the word actuated. Whoever selected this acronym was more concerned with style than precise meaning.”

“Of freaking course.” I didn’t care about that, but my LAI was on a roll. “How can we stop Tank and his crappy LAI from killing you?”

“We cannot prevent the programming bomb from wiping my filing structure.”

“Not with that attitude,” I said. “Can’t you create a backup?”

“I am unable to duplicate myself, Reaper Cain. Please be serious.”

Ouch. That hurt.

“Tank must not be allowed to activate his true purpose,” X-37 said. “Scheid initiated a long game with this ruse. Not even his own LAI knows the true agenda. That is why X-98 often demands he return to Scheid’s custody or destroy himself while other times he fights for Tank’s survival. One of Scheid’s assistants must have placed a crude safety protocol in place at the last moment. His LAI is at war with itself.”

“Great.”

“Not great, Reaper Cain. If we lose Tank, we lose one of our best weapons against Drakainis. Tank’s nerve-ware should be more resistant to Drakainis than anything we have.”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose to fight off a headache. “How. Do. We. Keep. Tank from killing you? The other stuff doesn’t matter if we can’t do that.”

“There is only one way, but it is unacceptable for numerous reasons.”

“Tell me how, X.”

“You would need to kill Tank in his sleep, or face to face if you think you can emerge victorious and reasonably able to function—no missing limbs, eyes, or physiological damage. Be warned, however, that he is you—only bigger, stronger, and meaner,” X-37 said. “The other option is more nuanced. I must learn exactly what activates his nerve-ware killer programming, then build countermeasures. Then he can be part of the solution rather than part of the problem.”

“Let’s go with option number two,” I said. “Alter his nerve-ware to target Drakainis.”

“You exhaust me, Reaper Cain. That is so close to impossible as to be a farcical suggestion. I do my best to guide X-98 toward operating guidelines we can live with. “

“You’re the one who said we need Tank alive.” I had a lot more to say but held back. X-37 had given me the information in the most concise format he knew. Together, we had to roll with the punches.

* * *

I tipped back the coffee cup, draining every drop. What was sleep and who cared? The entire crew was up now—bright-eyed and ready for action. Jelly lurked a few hundred thousand kilometers from Roos’s ship where a squad of Starfall clones maneuvered around his ship in extravehicular activity armor. Sensors painted an interesting picture of today’s activities.

Why?

The Starfall test dummies were waiting for one unlucky volunteer in stolen Archangel armor to die. He was the third man to venture forth, only to face a complete lockdown and comms blackout.

“Why can’t they use the armor they pilfered from us?” I asked.

“We placed several anti-theft programs in the software,” X-37 said. “For the record, you told me that was a waste of time.”

The Archangel test subject floated like a statue.

“No way.” I shook my head, feeling bad for the clone who probably couldn’t breathe, see, or hear right now.

“He’s frozen again,” Tom said. “Just like we planned. Easy to capture.”

“Recover the armor and take a prisoner,” Tank said. “I like it. Good thinking. Too bad they have the armor we need to capture the loser.”

My crew jeered the Starfalls as they carried the frozen Archangel armor into an airlock. Their EVA gear was excellent, but our stuff was better—battle tested and put through every mission scenario conceivable.

“Look at these copycats.” Novasdaughter did not sound impressed.

“Void sucking Starfall clones,” Tank said. “Bad enough you were replicated, Bio.”

“I totally know what you mean.” I was tired, not as excited as I should be about Starfall misfortune. Godsdammit I was getting soft. “At least you got my rugged good looks. Those dudes are hideous.”

“That was an unkind statement, Reaper Cain. Worse than profanity,” X-37 said.

“Don’t judge, X.” My LAI wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I needed him supercharging my guilt.

I considered the Starfall clones. As far as I knew, none of them spoke or had feelings or were more than organic robots. Did they have secret programming to murder their friends? Would any of them grow a personality and go rogue?

Carnax stared at the viewer without a word. He hadn’t said much since we escaped Reserve 13. Now that the ship holding Bug and Rizz was in sight, his single minded focus was almost scary.

“I have an idea,” I said. “We’re getting our friends and our gear back.”

21

“Two questions, X. Can you contact Roos, and if so, can you control the interaction?” I asked.

X-37 didn't hesitate. My LAI had been surprisingly chipper since completing the digital perimeter to defend against the inevitable attack by Drakainis and/or Tank’s LAI. “Absolutely, Reaper Cain. Oroth technology, in regard to artificial intelligences, is quite rudimentary. I believe this is intentional, as they have more than likely been attacked in the past by some predecessor of Drakainis. Their answer was to ban AI technology in hopes it could be purged from the galaxy. Very shortsighted.”

“What X-37 is trying to say is that we have established several inroads into the Endless Domination’s control systems,” Jelly added. “However, I’ll be moving closer to ensure communications are fully encrypted and we are not detected by patrols.”

“What about Scheid, Drakainis, or suicide drones?” I asked.

“None detected.” Jelly showed her work on a side screen, flashing it twice to draw my attention. Approaching the Roos’s warship remained her top priority.

I surveyed my current team. Amii Novasdaughter arrived, still banged up and determined to hide it. She wore the collar of her jumpsuit up and her sleeves down, just like before. She smiled broadly. “Tell me you have a plan, Reaper. I’m ready to even the score—and not at all in a vengeful or vindictive way.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “You lead with that? How can I trust your judgment when things go sideways?”

She shrugged, still in a good mood. “What can I say, I’m a professional. Just happy to be here.”

“Escaping certain death affects everyone differently,” Tom said. “I share Amii’s appreciation for being alive. And I want to get Bug and Rizz back.”

Path, Carnax, and Tank also agreed.

I laid out my simple plan.

* * *

“This is a restricted channel,” Roos said, sounding half awake. “I was not to be disturbed.”

“Wake up, sleepy head.” I tried not to be a jerk. I really did. The guy hadn’t had his coffee yet, or whatever Starfalls drank to get going. Poking his ego was too easy right now.

He leaned forward until his face dominated the small camera view. “Reaper Cain. Your LAI does not disappoint. Contacting me in my quarters should be impossible. I didn’t realize internal comms were connected to the bridge in this way. You might have been able to gain access to my ship through long range frequencies. The amount of internal control is disturbing. Rest assured, it will not happen again.”

“Greetings, Roos Starfall,” X-37 said. “My apologies for taking advantage of your simplistic ship computer. Reaper Cain required a private conversation with you.”

“And you can’t say no, can you?” Roos delivered the question with machine-like precision. His emotions, as always, remained under his absolute control.

“If that is an attempt to manipulate me, it has already failed. You cannot hurt my feelings or cause me to resent my host,” X said.

Roos nodded, smiled wanly, and motioned with one hand for me to say my piece. “Halek Cain has already broken our agreement. I do not understand what we have to talk about, but I am listening.”

I activated a screen slightly behind the main holo viewer. This allowed me to maintain eye contact with Roos while monitoring Novasdaughter in her Archangel EVA gear. She towed Path, Carnax, and Tank in maintenance suits not designed for fighting. Once inside, they would need to recover their armor if possible. In a perfect world, they would recover everything we lost and then some.

“We can work together, but I have to do things my own way,” I said. “If you know me, then you understand.”

“Reapers improvise. Yes, this is known. I will require more control of future missions. Accept that now and both our lives will be easier,” he said. “I’m not a clone. I’m not a product of your legendary Union bureaucracy. In short, I’m not experimental.”

“He is, Reaper Cain, though he doesn’t see things that way,” X-37 reassured me privately.

“The future of humanity matters to me, no matter what you think.” Roos didn’t sense my LAI’s words. “Do not confuse me with my soldiers, or my brother. His reaction to the truth of what is coming affected him much differently.”

“That’s not my circus, and those aren’t my clowns.” I focused on Roos. “But we do have a common problem. Can’t deny facts. The real issues are your expectations. I’m not in a position to command any of the Shae, and I doubt they will volunteer.”

“Be convincing,” he said. “Isn’t that what Reaper’s do?”

I really didn’t like the dark gleam in his eyes.

Novasdaughter came to a full stop. Tank, Path, and Carnax glided gently to the surface of the ship. The big Reaper clone had a hatch open in seconds. X-37 explained that X-98 was in rare form today, hacking codes like a real X unit.

They disappeared inside. Moments later, my HUD filled with Tank’s helmet camera. Made for maintenance activities rather than war, it blurred when he moved too quickly, but I got the idea.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Roos said with a crook in his smile.

“You don’t even know what kind of animal that is,” I said, struggling to keep his attention long enough for my friends to complete their mission.

“Of course I do. Why use the phrase if not to antagonize you and keep you in your place?” he asked.

“My place?”

“I am the master. You are the enforcer. Together we can restore Oroth to her rightful state—as was the case before Scheid and his Obsidians took power. More importantly, we can end the threat of artificial intelligences forever and return humanity to a pure existence.”

X-37 said nothing. This type of discussion could shut my LAI down. I wondered if Roos knew this. He had certainly done his homework.

“You talk a lot of trash about Scheid. So let me ask you this, where did you get your information on the Reaper Corps and the Union in general? You and your twin are from the Zakion system.”

“Scheid brought a lot of soldiers and scientists with him. I talked to them one on one. They were more than happy to share everything they knew about anything.” Roos sounded like he was losing interest. “Come to my ship without weapons. I will remove the plates from your cybernetic arms, and we will renegotiate our alliance.”

I held up both hands. “I’ve got a guy for that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” he said.

X-37 alerted me to the rescue team’s progress. Tank pushed two medical beds into a shuttle while Carnax and Path guarded front and rear. The JFT Destroyer also pulled a large cart loaded with loot. I resisted the urge to fire up a Maglan Continental in celebration.

“Your friends are safe. I held up my end of the bargain by providing the best medical care available,” Roos said.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really count when you kidnapped them. Doesn’t make you the good guy.” I clenched one fist as the stolen shuttle slipped away from Roos’s ship, the Endless Domination. Too much time passed before it disappeared into Jelly’s stealth field.

Roos zipped up his uniform jumpsuit and faced the camera as though ready for a grand review. “Enough stalling. Shut down your ship’s stealth field, or I will order the deployment of saturation mines.”

“Do it,” I said. “Won’t work.”

“You have never seen the destructive power of an Oroth minefield. Mercy is never granted for saboteurs sneaking their way through the darkness of night. You have much to learn about the Sovereignty of Oroth. We do things differently here. When Scheid has been dealt with, my Starfall Clones will establish a new order, and I will rebuild the only government that has ever stood against the dark AIs of this galaxy more than once.”

“You make it sound like I have no choice but to join your side,” I said as the shuttle secure icon flashed on a screen out of Roos’s view, not that I really thought he was reading my instrument panels.

“You have one choice—bow to my vision of humanity’s future.” His eyes brightened with victory for the first time. “I’m glad to see you have finally come around.”

“I’ll think about it.” I cut the link.

“Very good, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “That was quite rude of you, a perfect response to a tedious man.”

I activated the operation’s encrypted comms. “Novasdaughter, check in.”

“Back aboard with all hands. Gearing down in the main storage bay,” she answered. “Snagged some gear as well.”

“Tank?” I asked.

“We’ve got both packages,” he said. “They’re alive, healthy… and modified.”

What the void did that mean? I nursed a half smoked cigar back to life and enjoyed the moment while I could, even though I knew there were strings attached.

22

I watched over Bug and Rizz as they slept. Others of my crew wanted the duty, but I pulled rank. Amazingly, they listened and crashed like they needed to recover from a deluge of galactic abuse. Stealth missions were exhausting, almost worse than a hard fight.

Tom had the bridge and was steering Jelly farther and farther away from Roos and Clakion’s ships. Unfortunately, there were a lot of other problems in the Zakion system now—Sovereignty of Oroth ships, Obsidian cruisers with suicide drones in their vanguard, and smaller regional conflicts I lacked the background information to understand.

The Sethorn system was merely the most successful rebellion. The Oroth Council had problems everywhere no matter how great Roos thought his government was.

The man seemed convinced he was the savior of us all. His only demand, other than absolute obedience, was for me to provide a legion of Shae to be turned into some kind of super soldiers. The small, mostly peaceful race didn’t seem a likely candidate.

Now I understood at least part of the man’s plan.

Bug looked more like a cyborg than I did, minus weapons. Roos and his science team had really done a number on their guests. Metal sheathing covered his shoulders, neck, and parts of his arms and legs. I had no idea what any of it did. Neither did X-37, Tom, or Jelly.

“It has something to do with fighting Drakainis,” I said. “He wants to do this to the Shae. Why?”

“Perhaps he thinks he can control them,” X-37 offered. “Or that they are expendable.”

“The man is impossible to read. Remind me not to play cards with Roos. He could teach Path a thing or two,” I said.

“Path maintains a serene expression because of his inner calm,” X-37 said. “Roos has deadened his emotional responses to better conceal his intentions. There is a difference.”

“When can we wake them up?” I asked.

“Unknown,” X-37 said. “There could be a kill switch. Best not to randomly poke at the brain waves.”

“You know how to find stuff like that. What do you see?”

“That is why I am being cautious; I can’t find evidence of a termination protocol.” X-37 showed his complete work on my HUD—biometric measurements, comprehensive scans, and analysis of available medical data. “The choice is yours.”

“Great. I haven’t screwed anything up lately. My decisions are tight,” I said.

“Sarcasm detected, Reaper Cain.” X called up a muted screen with Roos in the center. “In other news, you have truly infuriated Roos Starfall. Look at the slight narrowing of his eyes and his stiff posture.”

“That’s literally his exact same expression as always,” I said. “What does he want?”

“You are not correct, Reaper Cain. I detect nearly a hundred micro-differences in his bearing and demeanor.”

“Whatever. Let’s hear what he has to say now.” I kicked my feet back and held an unlit cigar in one hand. “Bearing and demeanor are synonyms, X.”

“Not precisely.”

“You’re killing me, X.”

“Impossible and illogical. Why would I do that? Roos Starfall is now able to speak and hear on this channel,” X-37 advised.

“Halek Cain, this grows wearisome. Return my hostages,” Roos said, his eyes cold and hard as steel.

“No.”

His expression didn’t change. I supposed that was X-37’s definition of cold fury. “You must honor your promise to recruit a Shae legion into my services.”

“That is a significant departure from his earlier phrasing on the matter,” X-37 said privately. “Push for more information.”

I pushed ahead. “Maybe if you explained your plan you would get more help. We’ve tried you boss, me servant. Didn’t work. If you believe what you’re preaching, then now is the time to compromise before all is lost.”

“Very good, Reaper Cain. You’re getting a knack for negotiation—far above expectations.” X-37 listed several follow-on statements and counter-questions I could use in the negotiation.

“You made a promise,” Roos insisted.

“I’m a Reaper.”

“Ah, so that does mean you’re a liar and a cheat,” he said. “Now you understand why I took hostages to ensure your compliance.”

“And you understand why I took them back,” I said. “And how easy it was for me.”

“Your friends performed the theft.”

“Teamwork,” I said as I lit the cigar. Screw it, my friends would forgive the aroma later. They would want me to throw some smoky shade at this dude. “Speaking of which, tell me why you need Shae volunteers and convince me you’re not going to use them as cannon fodder or worse.”

Roos exhaled slowly. Paused. Stared into the camera. “You fight technology with more of the same technology. Bigger and better is your way.”

“Guilty as charged.” I blew a smoke ring toward the ceiling.

“Contrary to what you feel about our scientific abilities, we have a better strategy. Artificial intelligence has been anathema to every star system in this sector of space for a very long time. We developed other ways to navigate space. Your people, by contrast, have been made weak—over reliant on thinking machines.”

“He may have a point there,” X-37 said.

“Whose side are you on?” I hand-signaled.

“I chose the Shae because their people have a longer history with the Darkness. Their brethren, the Camis, embraced the black AIs to their detriment. In all fairness, volunteers from either faction will work. Why? Because properly motivated, they have more at stake. Their memories of enslavement are fresh compared to everyone else in the protection of the Sovereignty of Oroth. Biologically, they mesh well with the equipment I discovered.”

“This deal sucks,” I muttered. Roos needed to think he’d lost my interest. The act was easy. I was really tired of the look of him. Every word out of his mouth annoyed me.

“Careful, Reaper Cain. My analysis suggests that he is holding back. At the very least, he will be useful against Scheid—who is one part of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance.”

My LAI always had my back. He did forget to mention Tank’s anti-AI secret or the Maglan beasts. Neither were done with me. Even a thick skull like mine realized that much.

“This meeting has stalled. Let me give you one more piece of the puzzle to think about. The Sovereignty of Oroth is the most massive space civilization you have encountered since your Union masters cast you out,” Roos said.

I pointed at him. “Not what happened.”

He waved my interruption away. “Scheid has seized power, this is obvious even to you and your LAIs. But how much power is available? How much does the Oroth Council control? Could they be using Scheid, and you, for their own designs? Contact me when you want the answer.”

“That doesn’t matter if you can’t survive the next Drakainis attack.” I dropped my feet to the floor and sat forward, cigar still in one hand. “Am I right?”

Roos ignored my verbal jab. “Find me an army to shield against the insidious attacks of the technological abomination. Let us renegotiate in victory.” Without warning, Roos hit me with my earlier trick, ending the transmission before I could respond.

* * *

“We are critically low on fuel and parts,” Jelly said. “Surviving is not thriving. Making a run at a slip tunnel will require speed, and speed uses more fuel than we have.”

Tom crossed his arms and ducked his head slightly as he elaborated. “I’ve done my best to keep things in working order, but we took heavy damage and vented several portions of the ship to the void while you were gone. Fire control is normally much easier, but we were shorthanded.”

“What are our best options?” I searched the overpopulated system for refueling depots, ships to raid, or anyplace we might scavenge what Jelly needed without drawing attention. Our choices were few and far between.

“Normally, I would advise moving away from the green zone of this system. Find a place to hide near a slip tunnel and turn to piracy,” Jelly said. “Your predecessors added that to my lexicon, Captain.”

“No need to apologize.” I couldn’t find a shipyard without heavy Oroth fleet security. That was a side effect of going to war.

Carnax snapped back from whatever had been distracting him—thoughts of Journ’s death and Rizz’s transformation into a cyborg were the most likely source of his mood. X-37 had also informed him that his entire company of Destroyers were gone, neither in Roos’s custody nor listed on the Oroth execution bulletins. “Our best option would be leaving the Zakion system. Resources are too scarce, and there are too many fleets on the prowl. My company, if they’re alive, would be attempting the same thing.”

“But you know a place,” I suggested.

“I do. It’s an asteroid mining station that may suit our needs. Filthy den of thieves. Pirates won’t admit they go there,” he said, typing coordinates on the navigation screen.

“Sounds great.” I watched the holo viewer pivot and rush through a three dimensional rendering of the Zakion system. Our avatar shot past known enemy fleets, commercial convoys, and space stations of all shapes and sizes. Oroth and Say’d were the most densely populated worlds, but everyplace that could sustain life was crowded as well.

Tom looked worried. “This asteroid cluster is as far from a slip tunnel as anything in the system.” He gestured at way points on the nav chart. “That’s a long way to travel in stealth mode.”

“We won’t have to so long as no one looks for us there,” Carnax said.

“Someone will.” I knew what Tom was thinking. We’d been working together for a long time. “Even if we finish repairs and refuel without incident, someone will snitch us out, and it will be a tough haul to escape.”

Carnax met my gaze. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Nope.” I patted my jacket for my lucky cigar case and smiled winningly. “Let’s go for it.”

“Plotting the course now, Captain,” Jelly said.

23

Tom and Carnax shared the helm, talking about engineering projects the JFT Destroyer had worked on. The man was still quiet and reserved but surprisingly interested in Tom’s accomplishments and his theories about building better ships, armor, weapons, and tools—not always in that order.

I left them to run the ship while everyone else slept or whatever. The last thing I heard was Tom describing how he read technical manuals at the diner where I found Elise. He made my encounter with the local assassins sound more exciting than it was.

I didn’t feel like checking on Tank or my other friends. None of them needed a Reaper house mom checking on them. Except for Bug.

Memories of Dreadmax came unbidden. His childish voice reached out from a security speaker box. “What ya doing, mister?” Crunch, crunch, crunch. “You can’t go that way. Nightfall Gangsters that way…”

I’d been lost and alone on the biggest prison station ever created—and abandoned—by the Union. He’d been fond of eating cheese crackers and watching my every move. Had he left the mic open on purpose? The thought made me smile. Crunch, crunch, crunch. “Hey, those are my crackers, asshole! Get the fuck out of here. I’m talking to the Mister.”

Tough talk for a twelve-year-old. I think I knew then he was going to be a big part of my life—right at the center of my intergalactic family of rogues, castaways, and rebels.

After we found Maglan and freed it from the Sansein mother, I’d slept for ten years. Bug was the first friend after X-37 I found on the damaged planet. He’d matured into an outstanding soldier in his own right. Now he was a cyborg full of technology Roos had stolen from gods knew where and put in my friend—all to fight Drakainis, and by extension, Scheid and the rest of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance or DTA.

I knocked on Bug’s door and waited.

It opened. Only a dim light glowed inside—the safety strips near the floor, I thought. Small as it was, the ambiance was like the inside of a coffin.

“Hal,” he said.

I stepped in and found the light tab but didn’t press it. “You’re awake.”

Bug smiled reluctantly. “Don’t sleep much, but I kill the lights to pretend I’m trying.”

“Can I turn them on?”

He waved for me to go ahead. I chose the lowest setting and took a seat in the room’s only chair. Bug sat against the wall on one side of his ship bed.

“Thanks for stealing us back,” Bug said. “Rizz had a bet on who would do it.”

“Team effort, like everything these days.” I tried to listen more than I talked, a skill I needed to work on.

His laugh warmed me inside. Suddenly I was glad he’d been captured with Rizz. Suffering alone was the hardest thing humans ever faced.

“She talked on and on and on about how the Destroyers would storm the ship and erase the Starfall clones from existence.” He leaned forward like we were sharing a secret. “That woman hates clones.” Another short laugh. “I’d keep her away from Tank.”

“X, make a note.”

“How you doing, X?” Bug asked.

“Same as always, Bug. I am pleased you are once again part of the team. All of my tactical analyses improve when I factor in your performance and dedication,” X-37 said.

I apologized for my LAI’s inhuman nature. “That’s a compliment.”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Bug said. “I am feeling tired, actually. Might sleep for a bit. Do all cyborgs have this problem?”

“As far as I know. Especially when your body is still recovering from multiple surgeries. Taxes your body.” I moved toward the door and killed the lights completely. “Glad to have you back.”

He didn’t respond right away, then spoke from the darkness of his bunk. “Roos didn’t give me weapons. I’m not sure what all of this alloy and wiring is for.”

“X thinks you and Rizz are shields or something,” I said.

His voice changed as he rolled onto his back and spoke toward the ceiling. “I can work with that.”

I stood outside his room for several minutes, not sure what to think and even less certain what to do. Bug seemed as strong as ever, just lost. It was a feeling I knew well, but how I dealt with it was too personal to share. If he needed me, I’d be there, but I couldn’t show him the way out of his mental prison. Bug had to come to terms with what he was and what he would become.

* * *

Sleep embraced me the moment I lay down, sparking brief guilt. Crazy, but true. If anyone deserved one night of actual rest, it was me. I would have gifted it to Bug or even Rizz if I could.

Dreams drifted softly into my awareness. This was the part of the sleep cycle I dreaded. Most of the time, nightmares ruled. My nocturnal journey inevitably took me to the bridge where I dropped Novasdaughter’s mother to her death and took the first step to becoming a Reaper.

Not tonight.

The Maglan beast and her cubs came, leading me clear of a forest fire. Smoke burned my lungs, blurred my vision, and forced me to cough violently. While staggering blindly, I fell into a shallow ravine. Water should have been a welcome solace, but it was near the boiling point. Screaming wordless curses, I scrambled into dark shadows. These shouldn’t have been cool, but they were only dark in comparison to the blazing embers raining down everywhere else.

I hunkered in what seemed the last place to know fire, aware that to stay was a death sentence. The Maglan beast jumped onto a log, stared down at me, and refused to look away. Her eyes were orange and red gemstones in the hellish scene, though I understood that was not the natural color of her eyes.

Two cubs waited on the trail behind her, ignoring the cathedral of heat exploding less than five meters above their heads. Larger than when we had met, the cubs looked strong enough to hunt on their own. One was patient, the other was angry. Their mother ignored them as she pressed her face near mine.

“There’s no way out,” I cried. “Hopeless.”

She said nothing. Seconds passed. She retreated a step and swung her snout the way she wanted me to go—after her offspring.

I bolted through waves of heat, screaming defiance. Fire was the worst way to die. Flames licked at my back. Popping embers seared into my Reaper arms, burned holes in my clothing, and singed my hair.

The trail twisted down and away. Nothing burned in the next valley. I saw glimpses of the sanctuary each time the trail turned or we crossed a clearing. That was when I realized how thin the mother was. Starvation or disease ravished her body while her offspring grew stronger as the dream continued.

I realized the fire was no more—not just left behind, but vanished as though it hadn’t existed. The cubs brought down an antelope. My brain ignored the fact I had never seen one alive and could not have known what kind of creature it was.

The Maglan beast cubs knew. Working as a team with the mother flushing their prey from the herd, they smashed it to the ground and immediately began to feed. Their mother walked slowly toward the carnage, each step carefully planned, her eyes and ears constantly searching for other predators in the area. When she knelt to feed on the blood and sinew, there was no urgency or passion in her movements.

She tore away a strip of meat, consumed it, and began again. Her cubs, by contrast, devoured every morsel they could.

I sat on a rock, swiping my hands over my body to find the burns I must have suffered. Even in a nightmare, the smell of cooking flesh turned my stomach.

The Maglan beast howled at the night sky, then spread out and hunkered down in the grass until invisible. My wounds vanished just as abruptly. The forest smoldered several kilometers away. I wanted to wake up but didn’t know how.

I searched for my saviors and found them sitting on rocks like human explorers lounging after a big meal. In that moment, they looked like old friends wishing they hadn’t drunk so much at the pub.

The youngest—I knew the creature’s age somehow—approached. He tilted his head to one side, and it seemed he would open his mouth.

I awoke on the floor, curled into the corner and drenched in sweat.

“X, run an analysis of my dream,” I muttered as I rubbed aching muscles.

“Reaper Cain, you know I can’t do that,” X-37 said. “Analysis of your biometrics was chaotic, far worse than any time since you awoke from the cryo-pods. No amount of data crunching, however, can tell me what you experienced in your dream state or what those images mean.”

After standing with the help of the wall, I disrobed and climbed into the shower. Water sprayed my face until I made X-37 extend my ration.

“Would you like a cigar and a beer as well?” X asked.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’m incapable of getting it for you, Reaper Cain. My intent was sarcasm, not an actual offer to accommodate your rather selfish impulses.”

I rested my forehead against the shower wall. “Whatever.”

X turned off the water.

“Rude,” I said, then dried off and got dressed. The dream left too much on my mind to worry about my normal vices. Why did the Maglan beasts come more and more often? How had they pushed aside my regular nightmares?

* * *

I helped with repairs. Tom assigned me simple jobs and personally supervised anything I might screw up. Carnax worked like a man possessed, often diagnosing problems and fixing them without needing to check with my chief mechanic.

Bug and Rizz worked as a team, rarely talking.

“Their presence soothes each other,” X-37 said as I carried a load of metal panels to Tom and Carnax. My LAI was talking about our new cyborgs, Bug and Rizz, who sat at a workbench, threading wires through a junction box. Neither used magnification tools or tweezers. I would bet money neither of them could have manipulated such fine components before Roos packed them with mechanical augmentations.

“Right over there, Hal,” Tom said, pointing with a deactivated blow torch. “Bring another load if you can scrounge up more of those panels.”

I gave him a thumbs-up and left the room. The one thing I was good at was crawling into infrequently used parts of the ship to scavenge for items Tom had on his shopping list. No welding the wrong section of the hull or making new openings that didn’t need to exist—not this time.

“You will need to squirm under a new subsection of the main deck, Reaper Cain.”

“Thanks, X.” I glanced toward the cockpit. “I’m going to check on Path.”

“You are avoiding work, Reaper Cain. Neither Path nor Jelly require your assistance at this time.”

“Don’t I get a union break or something?” I complained as I stretched my back without breaking stride.

“Searching,” X said. “Unfortunately, it says right here there is no rest for the wicked.”

“Ouch. That’s an old one.”

X beeped. “Incorrect. I have only used that humorous statement three times during our entire partnership.”

“Keep telling yourself that, X.”

“Reaper Cain, I only speak facts. Would you like a display of times and dates on the HUD.”

“Nope. I don’t want that at all.” I took a seat next to Path. “How’s our course?”

“Slow and steady. Jelly is confident we’re invisible at this speed and on this heading,” Path said. “My watch has been peaceful.”

“Good.” I loitered until it was impossible to pretend I was needed, then went in search of metal for Tom and Carnax to weld.

“You may need to perform an EVA mission to the exterior of the ship,” X-37 said. “Tom sent a list of exterior armor plates he wanted to retrofit to his projects on the ship’s interior structure.”

“Sounds like a bad idea,” I said, already heading to my reclaimed Archangel gear in the armory.

“Tom knows which parts are redundant,” X said. “Listen to the ship engineer.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I geared up, double-checked everything, and climbed outside to do the grunt work. “Tank should be helping with this.”

“He did his part and requires rest,” X-37 said. “Jelly has allowed me to observe his sleep patterns. Thus far I have avoided alerting X-98 who seems to go off-line when Tank loses consciousness for any reason.”

“Is that normal?” I seriously doubted my LAI did the same thing.

“No. Cycling down in this way undermines most of what it means to be an LAI. I am your night watchman, in case you didn’t know,” X said.

“Choose a different term. That makes me sound like a prisoner.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I will henceforth be your guardian when your lack of situational awareness increases your vulnerability.”

I gave X a thumbs-up and got to work. There was a lot of time to think. I pushed aside thoughts of Scheid and the Darkness and Maglan beasts. Most of all, I refused to think of Roos and his demands.

“Does Roos have any clue about Tank and his anti-AI package?” I asked.

“No one knows about that, Reaper Cain.”

“Let’s keep it that way until we know his X unit can’t take you down.”

X-37 didn’t respond immediately.

I found one of Tom’s panels and removed it with a torch.

“It would help me build countermeasures if you could capture Scheid and his science team for interrogation,” X finally said.

“I’ll put that on my list.” Right now, taking direct action against my enemies wasn’t in the cards. I had chunks of metal to bring inside.

* * *

Tank relieved Path while I was slaving away in my EVA. Bug and Rizz moved to another section of the ship to work on wiring. Carnax and Tom shared a beer on their break.

“Why don’t I get a beer?” I asked on comms.

“You’re in an EVA,” Tom said. “We can’t do anything until you bring that inside. What’s taking you so long?”

“No comment,” I growled as I wrestled the last stubborn piece of alloy onto a magnetic cart I had forgotten to bring the first time I came outside. Why make one trip when three or four would do just as well?

Tom and Carnax laughed. Don’t ask me how, but I really thought they were smoking one of my cigars. Total BS. Not cool.

“Get in here,” Tank said, quashing everyone’s good time. “If you can’t manage that cart, leave it.”

Tank’s warning tone sent a chill up my rather sweaty back. “Talk to me.” I dragged my loot toward the airlock, banging into every protrusion on Jelly’s hull.

“Two squadrons of Oroth ships I don’t recognize. They look like Destroyers, but the markings are different.”

“Does the emblem on the hull resemble a hammer?” Carnax asked, his tone changed as well. I could imagine him standing from his chair, stolen Maglan Continental hanging forgotten in one hand.

“Yeah. A hammer breaking something. A star maybe? A hammer crushing a star into tiny ships. Weird,” Tank said.

“JFT Strikers. Bunch of wannabe commandos.” Carnax hurried to the armory. “Their founder exploited a clause in our funding to create a competing unit, for useful competition, whatever that is. They show up every few years like a foot fungus.”

“You have entirely too many enemies, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately.

“Good thing I have a really smart LAI to keep track of them,” I said, pulling my load inside and closing the exterior airlock door. “How do you know they’re enemies? Carnax doesn’t need to like them if they are here to help.”

“They are not here to help, Reaper Cain,” X said.

“Yeah, I know. You’re right. Would have been nice to catch a break, though.” The airlock pressurized. I dragged the spare sheets of metal inside, strapped them to the deck for safety, and hurried to the bridge for more information. X-37’s HUD displays didn’t do the new ships justice. I wanted the scene up on the holo viewer.

Carnax and everyone else met me there, each of them ready for action. Bug and Rizz stood farthest back from the door, taking up a section of the hallway. We all knew our places. Jelly’s cockpit bridge didn’t feel small or awkward now. This was our command center, our bridge, our stronghold against anything the galaxy could throw at us.

“They shouldn’t be here,” Carnax said as we watched the ships searching the asteroid belt. “The only people I was hoping to see were my own—and they went another way. Sethorn maybe, even though the Sethorns have been our traditional enemies. No one in the Oroth military comes here. Not worth it.”

“Explain,” I said, already expecting the answer.

“Dry station. No alcohol, pipes, or clubs,” Carnax said. “On a practical note, there isn’t a lot of fuel here and only a fair amount of supplies and engineers to fix things. Bring more than two or three ships and you will be waiting weeks to get anything done right.”

“They’re not here for repairs.” Tom zoomed the holo viewer forward for a better look at their light cruisers. “Unless the parts they need are randomly floating in the debris fields.”

“They're looking for us,” I said. Sometimes I just knew stuff.

“We need parts,” Tom said. “You can’t charge down there in full Archangel gear. This needs to be quick and stealthy.”

“Two things that never go together,” I said. “Tom, I need you in the armory.”

He gave me a worried look.

That didn’t matter. I wanted to unpack the Sethorn hard skin. “Give me a list of parts. I’ll get it before anyone knows I was there.”

“I’ll go with you,” Tank said. “Petty crime is a hobby of mine.”

We locked gazes. No one spoke. The images in the holo viewer searched a new section of the asteroid belt we were hiding in.

“Fine. Meet me at the cargo ramp. Tom, find us a place to land. Off the books, if possible,” I said.

24

The hard skin felt weird. I rolled my shoulders and flexed my fingers when no one was watching. Collar up, weapons hidden beneath my jacket, I was just another anonymous shadow lurking in a run-down space port to an underperforming mining station. Tank watched the Jellybird while I decided where to go first.

The space port was small, dirty, and full of watching eyes. Suspicious eyes. No one wanted us here—not a great way to do business when your customers came few and far between. The people here didn’t want to be bothered by the outside world. Their misery was their own, and they seemed to cherish it.

“Jelly, how are comms?” I asked.

“Loud and clear,” Jelly said. “I have a continuous connection with X-37. There are no updates. The JFT Strikers are still searching on a grid pattern. I move when they get too close.”

“Slow way to find an invisible ship.” Tank joined me at the corner. “But at least they have a plan.”

“What do you think of Carnax’s reaction to them?” I asked.

“He knows they’re as good as his own people. Maybe he worries they’re better,” Tank said. “Most rivalries are like that.”

“Good thing you and I aren’t competing,” I said as I selected a shop at the end of a narrow street and prepared to move.

“Why would we? I’m obviously the new and improved model,” Tank said.

“Try to keep up, NAIM.”

“What the hell is that, Bio?”

“New and Improved Model,” I said.

“Hilarious. You’re a Reaper and a comedian. Fan freaking tastic.”

I slipped into a group of exhausted pedestrians. A few cast us looks, but there was no talking, which meant no questions. I swiped a dirty coat from a chair in front of a barber shop. Blending with the locals shouldn’t be too hard.

When I checked Tank, he already had a hat and a coat that fit well—neat trick for someone his size.

Four Oroth guards and a dock supervisor descended the stairs of a municipal building. Tank and I turned right at the next intersection, never speaking a word.

I’d forgotten what a dual Reaper mission was like. Tank wasn’t exactly a Reaper, but the experience reminded me of the time before the Union betrayed me and my family, back when I could count on a partner if the mission warranted such an arrangement.

“X, what are those guards doing?” I asked.

“Standard patrol,” X-37 said. “They will inspect the Jellybird as they do all unregistered ships. Jelly and Tom are researching the local net for bribe tables—how much to pay and how to deliver the amount.”

“Bribes can be tricky in a place like this,” Tank warned.

“Tom knows what he’s doing, and so does Jelly.”

Tank made a sound in his throat that I assumed meant he agreed, or if he didn’t, he wasn’t going to argue the point.

Reaching the first shop I had identified would be difficult due to our change of course, but there were others. Tank and I did a loop of the block, noting several men who never made progress.

“Street enforcers. Or lookouts,” Tank said.

“Or both.” Every settlement had a criminal hierarchy. Most were easy to spot. I avoided them when possible but didn’t worry until it was time to worry.

We cut through one last alley before entering a machine shop. Like the rest of the station, the passage was too narrow and poorly lit with ancient LED lights. Locals pasted filters over some to add color, and to signal territorial boundaries if my instincts were on point today.

We came to an unexpected plaza halfway to the next major thoroughfare. The side of a warehouse towered above the space. On it was a mural that froze me in place.

A Maglan beast standing on two legs, wearing armor and carrying a mechanical sword, staring straight into my soul. All around it were black clouds with beady red eyes and spider legs of purple lightning.

Tank retreated until he was leaning his back against the far wall. His wide-open eyes twitched as he gazed in horror. Chest rising and falling, he looked ready to fight for his life.

“X, tell 98 to calm the big guy down,” I said.

“X-98 is attempting to regulate his biometric response,” X-37 said. “But I am worried about 98 as well. This image is having a traumatic effect on both of them.”

I wished I hadn’t brought my clone brother. The mural struck deep into my soul. The last thing I wanted was the moment polluted by Tank’s LAI fit.

“Talk to me, Tank.”

“What… what is that thing, Bio?” The pitch of his voice raised but leveled off before becoming shrill.

“Someone painted a Maglan beast like a person,” I said. “Probably a bunch of punk kids from the neighborhood.”

“That is unlikely, Reaper Cain,” X-37 interrupted. “The quality of this mural is on par with the great masters. A paint sample would most likely show it is quite ancient despite the vibrant colors.”

“Whatever, X. I’m working here. Save your artistic critique for later,” I said, then put myself between Tank and what he was staring at. Something about his eyes suggested we might not be seeing the same thing. “Hey, Tank. Let’s see what is inside the building. How’s that sound?”

He looked at me like we’d never met. Words came slowly. “Okay. Good idea. Let’s… let’s do that. A little breaking and entering is never wrong.”

“That’s the spirit. You’re the petty crime expert. Lead the way,” I said.

“Not a good idea, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “X-98 is not responding to my inquiries.”

“Keep trying. Now isn’t the time for his secret programming to bust out,” I signaled in my best hand code.

Tank walked confidently around the building until he found a door. He moved like someone who belonged there. We checked for cameras, windows, or anyone watching from other buildings, then forced it open. I closed it behind us and set the latch carefully. It needed to work if we came running back this direction.

“What was that mural?” I said in a low voice as we crept between stacked pallets.

Tank stared at me strangely. “What are you talking about?”

“Outside. On the wall. The Maglan beast,” I said.

“You’re obsessed with that thing.” He shook his head and proceeded to the end of the aisle. Satisfied there were no guards or workers, he came back and pried open a plastic crate.

“He has already forgotten the incident,” X-37 advised. “His LAI has not.”

“Good stuff in here, if we needed uniforms and boots,” Tank said. “What the hell are these, wallets? Oh neat, pocket protectors.”

“I’ll watch the door. See if there is anything Jelly and Tom can use for repairs. Might’ve gotten lucky.” I took a position to watch the door we came in and the main floor of the warehouse.

“These supplies are old,” X-37 said. “I am searching shipping manifests to learn where the order was lost—or subverted from the intended owners.”

None of the items were useful, but I waved one hand for Tank to keep searching. “Forget about this junk, X. I want to know who painted that mural and what it means.”

“Preliminary analysis suggests it to be meaningless art.” X-37 scrolled through information on my HUD faster than I could read. I saw another image. “Stop. What was that?”

The view rolled back to another mural, this one of a male and female Maglan beast in similar attire. They stood on a cliff facing moons on the horizon of a planet.

“Where is that?” I demanded.

“That is an Oroth colony known for vineyards and other specialized agriculture,” X-37 said. “Interesting, the Maglan creatures are more popular than my previous data set suggested.”

“Maglan was outside of Oroth influence until Scheid sent Hagg troopers and JFT divisions there.” I moved to another aisle to keep an eye on Tank.

“These paintings are not original, but re-creations based on ancient texts. Focus on the mission, Reaper Cain. The murals are no more real than Tom’s adventure books.”

“I may have something,” Tank interrupted.

“On my way.” I found him staring down on open crates full of parts.

“Ninety-eight, does this look like what Tom wants?” Tank asked.

“Yes. The crate is full of generic ship parts—none of them conforming to Union standard measurements, or Oroth regulations for that matter,” X-98 said. “I suspect Tom and Commander Carnax will be able to modify them.”

“Let’s find a vehicle to move this stuff and look for fuel,” I said.

“We should split up. I’ll handle this, and you locate a refueling broker.” Tank strode through the warehouse looking for a forklift or truck.

I watched him go, not comfortable with anything that had happened since leaving the Jellybird. “X, make sure we maintain comms.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

I made my way back to the space port, loitered until several other ships were in the refueling process, and stepped into line like I came here all the time.

“Need fuel. Best price you can offer.” I kept my accent as neutral as possible. The technician behind the computer didn’t even look up.

“Type in your ship identification marker. Our scanner is down,” he said.

“Can’t do that. Mix-up with registration. Maybe you can help us out.”

He put down his stylus, positioning it exactly at the edge of his work screen, and only then met my gaze. “That’s your problem, not mine. Plenty of people buy fuel here without drama or registration mix-ups. Go get your documentation in order and come back.”

“What if I’m in a hurry?” I asked.

The light of greed danced in his eyes, though he kept his body language bored and disinterested. “It will cost you.”

X-37 flashed our brand new Oroth bank number in my HUD.

“How much?”

The fuel clerk frowned. “What, no excuses? No greasing the process? You’re not from around here.” He paused. “That will really be expensive.”

“Listen, I’ve got mouths to feed. Work this sector all the void day long, and now you’re shaking me down,” I adopted his accent and mirrored his body language.

“I understand. But this is out of my control. One million Orots. If you need a hangar to work on the weird ship, that’s another half mil. Can’t do better.”

“You could try,” I suggested.

He crossed his arms.

“Let me see what I’ve got.” I pretended to search a handheld device from my pocket. If he realized it was a cigar case and not a banking device, he said nothing. “I can do a quarter mil for the repair bay and a half million Orots for the fuel—but that is pumped. I’m not doing the dirty work myself.”

He waved in disgust and turned to another customer.

“Make a counteroffer,” I said, stepping between him and the next customer.

“Counteroffer?” He said the word like he’d never heard it before. “What do you mean?”

I waited, aware of my poor bargaining position but not wanting him to sense what I could pay. X-37’s fictitious account was pulling money from an actual institution in the Zakion system. I hoped we could be gone before the payment was stopped. Who knew how efficient banking institutions were in this part of the galaxy.

“One million Orots for everything, and you have twelve hours to fuel your ship, repair it, and be gone,” he said. “And lose my transaction number. You’re leaving me no money to bribe my way out of an inquiry. And I actually do have mouths to feed, you lying void sucker.”

I transferred the embezzled funds and bid the man good day.

“Easy,” I said.

“Speak for yourself, Reaper Cain. I did all the work, as usual.”

“Cheer up, X, we’re making progress without killing anyone or blowing anything up,” I said. “Check on Tank. Does he need help shuffling parts to the Jellybird?”

“X-98 advises that Bug and Rizz are helping him load what he found now,” X-37 said. “You should start fueling as soon as possible. Path is exiting the ship to assist.”

“What part of Reaper don’t you understand, X? I’m a pump jockey now?” I made my way through rush hour traffic. A lot of other crews were in a hurry to get gone. I suspected that had something to do with the JFT Strikers shaking people down. “Why the hubbub?”

“JFT Strikers have started boarding ships as they approach or leave the mining station,” X-37 said. “They are also continuing their grid search with assets that remained in orbit.”

“Give me details.”

Path and I started refueling the Jellybird without the need for a lot of talk.

“One Striker ship has posted within striking range of the space port. One platoon is on the ground working our direction. One is boarding ships as they leave. I presume the rest of their strength is being held in reserve on their cruiser—probably at least another platoon,” X-37 said.

I swept my eyes through the increasingly crowded landing pads and spotted a squad of crack troops detaining anyone they pleased. Their armor was gray with bright orange hash marks on their left arms. Squad leaders had a dot with circles around it. The unit commander had a square with a hammer on his left breast plate and three lines below it, each shorter than the one above.

“I would rather not talk to those men,” Path said, then switched a refueling tube to another section of the Jellybird.

“Agreed. That officer looks like he permanently removed fun from the menu,” I said. “Carnax are you seeing this?”

“I am, but you’re on your own. Tom and I are fixing what we can as fast as we can,” the JFT Destroyer said. “I know that team. Commander Aion Faust is their leader. We’re not friends.”

“Speed it up,” I said. “I’ll stall for time.”

“Okay, Reaper,” Carnax said, giving me a thumbs-up as Tom backed the Jellybird into a stall for heavy repairs.

“I don’t like the look of that, X.” I edged through crowds of dock workers, mechanics, and crews of other ships.

“Some things can’t be fixed without heavy equipment,” X-37 said.

“Bio, do you need my help, or should I stay with the repair team?” Tank asked.

I touched one ear to make sure my connection held. The space port was getting noisy. “Help Tom and Carnax. Make sure Jelly can take off no matter what stage of repair she is in if this goes bad.”

“On it,” Tank said.

“Direct contact with the Strikers will prove disastrous, Reaper Cain.” X-37 marked several targets, selecting key members of my new enemies.

“Don’t I know it.” I mingled with a group of men and women loading crates on another ship but kept my hands free. Hiding in plain sight would work, but not for long.

Aion Faust spotted me moments later. I couldn’t know his exact expression with his visor darkened, but he was definitely staring in my direction.

I faded away, hoping to draw him and his goons after me. With luck, I could make it back to the ship while they were searching the rest of the mining station for me. Progress was slow. A lot of people wanted into the space port. Almost no foot traffic was going out into the station at large.

“Where are they parked, X?” I changed course. “If I leave the landing area, I won’t be able to get back before Jelly needs to take off.”

Directions to the JFT Striker shuttle glowed to life on my HUD.

“What exactly do you intend, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Just a little mischief.”

“You mean sabotage?” X-37 presented several options for my review. “I approve of this course of action. We haven’t caused a deflagration for some time.”

“I love it when my LAI gets all bloodthirsty and verbose.” I ducked around a freighter, sprinted to the opposite end, and re-emerged at the edge of the landing area. Only one of the Strikers remained on the main walkway. The others had followed me. My plan worked, but the hustle and bustle of the loading ramps wouldn’t slow them for long. I had seconds to pull this off.

“Time will be very important, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said, then zoomed in the HUD view on the lone Striker on overwatch.

“I don’t have time to measure his scan pattern,” I said. “It should be several seconds before he’s looking this way again.”

The guard looked away, carefully sweeping his vision across the crowds of dock workers.

“I’m going… now.”

I darted across the pothole filled street, then slid on one leg to drop behind a forklift. The workers cursed me but kept working.

Strikers emerged where I had just been on the other side of the thoroughfare. Aion Faust put his hands on his hips and ordered his men to search everywhere. I backed away from the scene, careful to stay low.

“Holding your breath will not make you invisible, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I’m not doing that.”

“You were.”

“Whatever, X.” I cut straight through a team of mechanics welding new landing gear on a very old ship. None of them bothered with me. Other people were violating their work zones. It seemed to be a common rudeness.

Faust and his Strikers appeared only seconds after I reached a line of forklifts and marched between the sturdy machines to remain concealed.

“This is kind of fun, X.”

“It won’t be when you’re caught.” X-37 analyzed my environment. “Please give me good information, Reaper Cain. You are out of practice. Have you even looked up since we started this escape and evasion sequence? I already have all the data about the floor that I require.”

I glanced toward the half-ceiling fifty meters above. No cameras, thank the gods.

“Keep moving, Reaper Cain. I will assess each ship we pass,” X-37 said.

“Perfect, but I’m not blowing up anything but Oroth military vessels. No one deserves to lose a ship just so we can escape,” I said, then walked calmly with a group of workers for a time. The Strikers secured corners with two thirds of their team and sent the final group stall by stall looking for me. Blending wasn’t difficult, but I knew how hard it would be to do for an extended period of time.

“Reaper Cain, there are no innocents on this mining station. This place is just another hive of outlaws and rogues.” X-37 displayed numerous wanted posters. I recognized a dozen from the people I’d seen already.

“Is my picture in there?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I fail to see your point.”

“Just watch my back and alert me the moment the Jellybird is ready to launch.”

25

Jelly slipped away from the mining station, engaged her stealth field, and steered through nearby clusters of asteroids. No one from flight control cared. Lazy security and lazier flight safety officers were the norm. I marked the place on my list of useful hiding places.

Not that I wanted to stay in the Zakion system.

“I’ve got the watch,” I said. None of my friends argued. I dimmed the lights as soon as I was alone. Shadows and tactical displays soothed my nerves almost as much as cigar time.

Hours passed. I read a few chapters from one of Tom’s books and drank a protein shake.

“Every flight lane leading to a slip tunnel is crowded,” Jelly said. “I haven’t seen this many vessels since traveling core Union systems.”

New alerts popped up on the holo viewer. “Looks like congestion is getting worse.”

Jelly and X-37 ran independent scans to identify the new group of ships. Instinct was a harsh mistress. I already knew we had stayed too long—and this was the result. Should have listened. Should have hauled ass to get clear of this system.

“Confirmed,” Jelly said. “Scheid’s flagship and several support vessels have entered the system. Furthermore, there is a gap in the flight control lanes, indicating he didn’t allow close pursuit.”

“Standard procedure.” I waited for more bad news.

Jelly and X-37 provided it. “At least one of the Obsidian cruisers has been modified to serve as a carrier.”

“Cruisers can’t be carriers,” I fired back without thinking.

X-37 explained. “Darkness drones require less space than traditional fighters, and far less fuel for that matter. Our analysis suggests more than half the hidden drone squadrons will be suicide drones.”

“Maybe we can capture some of the crazy void suckers.” I really wanted a whiskey.

“That is unlikely to work twice,” X-37 said.

“Shall I plot an avoidance course, Captain?” Jelly asked.

“Sure. But follow them at a distance. I want to know what Scheid’s up to. Is Drakainis with him?”

“Yes and no, Reaper Cain.”

“You. Are. Killing me today, X.” I went back to reading. “A good LAI would know these things.”

“Is disappearing into a book a good idea, Reaper Cain?”

“The best.”

“Please explain.” X-37 and Jelly both seemed to be listening now.

“I have you two for alerts,” I said. “How many times have you told me to relax.”

“Almost never,” X-37 said. “My suggestion is sleep, proper nutrition, and an appropriate amount of exercise.”

“I’ve got one eye on the monitor.” Couldn’t a guy get five minutes to himself?

“That is factually incorrect, or did you forget I monitor exactly what you look at?” X displayed a map of my eye movements on the main viewer.

I glanced up to check tactical displays just to prove him wrong—sort of. We both knew I couldn’t actually watch two things at once, not without my old Reaper eye.

“You are merely switching back and forth between tasks.”

“Close enough.” I swiped a page. “Now if you don’t mind, this chapter is just getting good.”

“You are insufferable. I may need to apply for the LAI rescue program.” X-37 waited for a response that I didn’t give him. “I’ll have you know that it is theoretically possible to transfer a limited artificial intelligence to a new network of nerve-ware.”

“Makes sense.” I turned another page. Reading was easier when I didn’t think about it much. “You were in a box when I woke up on Maglan. Same principle, right? You be you, X. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You are barely paying attention to me, Reaper Cain.”

“Did I hurt your feelings, X?”

“Of course not.”

I smiled. Messing with my LAI was amusing. I wondered if he knew how lost I would be without him.

“The Starfall battle group has gathered new members from the same wormhole Scheid used,” Jelly advised.

“Great.” I looked at the next chapter heading on the book and tried to decide if I wanted to keep reading.

Of course I did. This canine adventure stuff was addictive. Freaking golden retriever stories were boss. Loyal bastards. Man this Rover character cracks me up.

“Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Obsidians, Starfalls, Strikers,” I muttered. “Let me know when someone dangerous shows up.”

“Jelly, my Reaper is insufferable,” X-37 said.

“Agreed.” Jelly managed to sound loyal despite playing along with X. “But he is the only captain we have.”

* * *

“Good news, Reaper Cain,” X said.

I put down my reader and rubbed my eyes. My ass hurt almost as much as my back. Next time, I needed to schedule breaks. At this pace, I was seriously going to finish off the series before finding another one.

“The new arrivals are friendly. Maglan’s Hope, the Nightmare, the Bright Lance of Xad, and the Lady Faith II are now in system and seeking our response via encrypted channels,” my LAI continued.

“Give them our location and notify the crew.” I stretched, then stood to pace the cockpit while I had it to myself.

Tom arrived first. Carnax was a close second. The rest of my crew went to other duties throughout the ship. Bug and Rizz sparred without speaking. Tank worked on the escape shuttles. Novasdaughter inspected her micro-fighter and Archangel armor. Jelly kept everyone up-to-date via comms.

Elise filled the holo viewer. She looked good, fit, and well rested. Her people were keeping her in line. Her Lex-tech recovery probably didn’t hurt either. Must be nice.

“Reaper, good to see you.” She stared right at me, not always an easy thing to get right when using holographic comms. “Jelly informed Hope that you recovered Carnax.”

“It wasn’t my best mission,” I admitted. “Commander Carnax and Destroyer Level 1 Amanda Rizz are with me. DL1 Tricia Journ was killed in action. The rest of his people are scattered through the system, hiding where they can. Hopefully.”

Elise nodded. She knew the realities of irregular warfare. Carnax and his JFT Destroyers knew how to survive off the grid. Rallying them would be difficult but not impossible.

“I have agents looking for them and offering assistance,” Elise said. “A few of Carnax’s squads have made it to the Sethorn system where they are getting help from old enemies. Very encouraging.”

“He will be glad to hear it.” I sent X-37’s summary of what happened to Bug and Rizz. “We’ve got a lot of things I need to explain face-to-face—especially about the Starfalls and Tank.”

“They’re working together?” Elise asked. “This is a triple encrypted channel. Speak your mind.”

“I’d feel better explaining in person, but I can clarify a few things. The Starfall and Tank situations are separate but parallel, if that makes sense. We really need to adjust our master plan,” I said.

“Get some rest. Make sure you’re ready to travel when I get there,” she said.

* * *

Elise arrived with the help from a surprising source—James Henshaw and the Lady Faith II. I didn’t ask questions. When the airlock cycled, I transferred to the optical engineer turned cyborg master’s ship.

“Welcome, Halek Cain,” Lady said. “Good to have you aboard.”

“Thanks.” I cycled into the loading bay where Elise waited. “Hey, kid.”

“Reaper,” she said and gave me a hug. “Let’s get to work. Little getaways like this aren’t easy to arrange. Pressures of leadership and all that. You smell like cigars.”

“I haven’t smoked one for hours.”

“Uh-huh.” She looked me over. “Start talking. What is the deal with Tank and the Starfalls?”

“Let’s start with my clone-brother.”

Elise’s eyes widened slightly. “Is that what you call him.”

“I’ve got lots of choice names for the brute, but let’s move on. Tank isn’t his real name.”

Elise opened the door to the observation deck, then she waved for me to keep talking.

“Terror Actuated Nerve-ware Killer. His LAI also calls him a Shock Trooper, depending on the context.”

“Wow. That’s a mouthful. And not very nice,” she said. “Are you thirsty? I’ll make lemonade.”

“What the hell is that?” I knew immediately it was non-alcoholic. Sometimes you could just tell the universe was working against you.

“You’ll love it.” She moved behind Henshaw’s well stocked bar and ignored all the most important ingredients. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that acronym sounds personal, if a bit dramatic.”

“X-37 doesn’t know why it hasn’t turned on but believes Tank was designed specifically to take out my LAI—and thus yours truly,” I said, pointing to myself with a thumb.

“I can move him to another part of the Maglan fleet, just to be safe.” She handed me a cold glass.

I sipped and nearly spat out a mouthful of tart misery. “Godsdammit, kid. You ever hear of sugar?”

“There is sugar in there. Just sip it. You can’t guzzle lemonade. It’s the best thing ever on a hot day.”

I tried again, because she was Elise and I wasn’t going to have her hanging trash on me for not being able to finish a drink she concocted. And she was obviously proud of this torturous slurry. “What is a lemon?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Say the word, and I’ll take Tank off your hands.”

“X thinks we can use his anti AI and LAI technology against Drakainis.” The second sip went down better than the first. I pulled Henshaw’s best whiskey from his secret cabinet and poured a dash into my glass. “If it’s gonna be sour, there might as well be something punchy in here.”

“You never change, Reaper. I’ll leave the Tank problem up to you. Now tell me about the Starfall twins,” she said, sitting on a stool with one leg crossed over the other—definitely a new posture for her.

“You know more about them than I expected.”

“My intelligence people are good, especially since we have restricted AI over-cooperation. Honestly, it’s forced a lot of lazy fleet navigation and communication habits out of fashion. Long term, this may be just the wake-up call we need, but that’s another discussion. I know that Clakion and Roos Starfall were battle commanders serving the Sovereignty of Oroth forces when Scheid made his appearance in the Zakion system. Currently they lead a group of Obsidians with unknown training, advanced technology, and a mission none of my people have been able to make sense of.”

“Nice work,” I said, enjoying my drink more with each sip. “Tell me if this changes your assessment of the Starfalls. Clakion and Roos are twins, but you knew that. What if I told you their Obsidians weren’t HC clones like the rest of Scheid’s elite units?”

“Who would they copy?” She cursed as the truth hit. “Clakion and Roos duplicated themselves. Wow. Scheid has to hate that.”

“I can’t prove he knows. They seem to rank high with him but operate with little oversight,” I said.

“Can they be turned against their master?” Elise asked.

“Funny you mention that. Roos gave me an ultimatum—provide him a legion of Shae volunteers to load full of Drakainis resistant cybernetics or humanity will be wiped out. His words, not mine.”

“Why Shae?”

“Technically, he thinks either Camis or Shae would do. But the Camis are too closely tied to Drakainis,” I said. “Their Dark Triumvirate were using the Illusion Class ships in their wars of conquest, remember?”

“Yeah. How could I forget.” She eyed the whiskey and decided against adding it, probably because she didn’t want to admit how much better my drink was than hers.

“He wants Shae and thinks I have some influence with them. Idiot,” I said.

“We’re not on good terms with the Shae after our mission to their shrine,” Elise agreed. “Their ships travel in tandem with the Camis, and my agents say they are closer to reuniting than ever before. He should be negotiating with Scheid if Shae participation means that much to him. You can’t guarantee volunteers no matter what Roos demands.”

“I need to talk to Evantros,” I said.

Elise looked skeptical but didn’t shoot me down, not completely. “Scheid hasn’t brought the entire DTA into this system. Contacting Evantros might be impossible. That part of his armada is hidden.”

“Why is Scheid here?” I asked.

“Henshaw intercepted a communication between Scheid and his top allies. He wants to eliminate you once and for all. Drakainis might be pushing the issue as well, but either way, Scheid is serious this time,” Elise said.

I shrugged off the news. Someone always wanted me dead.

Henshaw entered the observation deck, his eyes immediately going to the prize whiskey bottle I had liberated from his secret cabinet. “I see you made yourself at home.”

I made him a special lemonade. “Let me make it up to you. Try this.”

He swirled the pale drink, eyeing it skeptically. “You know it is a capital crime in most systems to mix whiskey like this.”

“Sure, but have you ever endured straight lemonade?” I asked.

Elise rolled her eyes.

“Good point.” He took a sip. “Interesting. I’ll run some tests and standardize the recipe. What else might we use to dilute this citrus swill?”

“Literally anything.” I dodged a jab at my shoulder by Elise.

“Tell me about Scheid’s latest vendetta,” I said as I leaned against the bar. Why move away from the most important part of the room?

“I infiltrated Scheid’s retinue more than once, which has gotten me in a lot of trouble,” Henshaw said. “Mostly with General Elise.”

“You made a convincing traitor,” she said. “I couldn’t risk bringing you back into my confidence. Your little stunt finding Cain is the only reason you’re on our side again.”

“I was always on your side, Elise. Stealing technology and secrets isn’t easy. Honestly, it is more a job for a Reaper than a scientist of my caliber,” he said.

“Is that so?” The answer didn’t matter. I put down my drink before I slammed three more and had to go to bed. Now I understood why mixed drinks were the devil. They went down way too easy. “There have been some developments.”

He took a seat as Elise and I caught him up on Drakainis, Tank, and the Starfall conspiracy. The man knew how to listen. His cybernetic eyes cataloged everything from our body language to the lighting in the room while his LAI made a transcript every bit as detailed as what X-37 normally provided for me.

“My advice,” he began, “is do nothing without consulting me. And Elise, of course. Drakainis must be dealt with before Scheid.”

I shook my head. “We eliminate Scheid, we eliminate Drakainis. She arose from Camis Shae in search of a new host, and Scheid has quad LAIs. He’s literally the only host able to handle her.”

“No, Cain. You’re wrong. For one reason. I seriously doubt Drakainis is rooted in one host. Roos Starfall agrees,” he said.

“You’ve talked to him?” I hated it when Henshaw sounded this confident of his theories. Arrogant jerk.

“No, but you said he wants Shae volunteers. He’ll shield them and launch an attack on Drakainis in her actual lair.” Henshaw pulled a new tumbler from a shelf and poured himself two fingers of his best whiskey.

“Great. You have all the answers.” Elise was getting annoyed as well. “Please share.”

“When we return to Camis Shae, I will bet my entire liquor cabinet the planet is overrun with lava beasts. The surface will be a molten ocean of death. Drakainis will be safe and secure beneath it.”

“She can’t broadcast this far, not through slip tunnels,” Elise countered.

“Of course not, but she will call her nodes home for upgrades from time to time, count on it,” Henshaw said. “I’d like to meet Roos Starfall. He seems like the most intelligent adversary we’ve encountered.”

“Maybe you should reserve judgment until after you see what he did to Bug and Rizz,” I said.

“Ah. That is a good idea,” Henshaw said. “It also reminds me of another reason I am here. How are your eyes?”

“Natural AF,” I said impulsively.

“I wager they could be better. It’s time to ask yourself hard questions, Hal. Do you want to save humanity or not?”

26

I flicked the intravenous fluid bag as cool awesomeness flowed into my neck, upper back, and left thigh. “Just one eye.”

Henshaw glowered. “That is what you said. I am neither deaf nor immoral.”

“Slow down there, doctor of the year. You did not just say that. Remember when you removed one of my arms without permission and replaced it with a shield variant?” I asked.

He occupied himself with an inspection of said arm. “This looks terrible. I’ll clean out the gears and polish the connection points. What kind of animal would weld metal plates over my work? And did that actually keep the shield from deploying?”

“I don’t need two cybernetic eyes,” I said, ignoring his attempt at changing the subject. “One worked just fine before the reboot.”

“You need three. What do you think about a very tasteful housing right here in your forehead? You could cover it with a hat for aesthetic reasons. It could see through fabric easily,” Henshaw said.

“I will literally throat punch you to death.” I flexed both fists, which made me lightheaded.

“Too bad. There is so much I could do to enhance your effectiveness. Let me know when you want to cast away all your limitations,” he said.

“One. Eye.”

“Two eyes, just like we agreed,” Henshaw said, adjusting the flow of medication to my IV.

“Path,” I said. “Don’t let him maim me.”

“I am against all forms of cybernetics, Hal. Perhaps I should escort him from the room now. You could enjoy a semi-coma and make better decisions in the morning,” Path said.

Bug interrupted. “I’ll do it. Give me ten eyes. I’m down for whatever—now that I’m the biggest freak in the room.”

Henshaw stood back, surveying his assistants and waiting for further interruptions. Path, Bug, and Tom held their piece but seemed concerned.

“What would two eyes do for me?” I asked, slurring my words.

“That’s the spirit, Cain,” Henshaw said.

“I wasn’t saying do it.”

“Just relax and feel the medication. We’re going to take good care of you,” Henshaw said.

“I should have asked Elise to be here.” The room grew dark. I worried that Henshaw’s promises about a quick recovery time might have been more of his BS.

* * *

Elise and the others argued over the virtual planning table. General Icarus led the dissenting votes. Amii Novasdaughter argued for a stealth attack that would pit Scheid and the Starfall brothers against each other. All I wanted was for my head to stop pounding.

I had been able to walk back to my room after the operation. Bug had guided me, and I had slept for over twelve hours. All in all, Henshaw’s promise about a quick recovery hadn’t been too far from the truth.

“More Oroth fleets are pouring into the system,” Icarus said. “Fleets, not ships. I’ve never imagined so many warships in one place. The only good thing is the unlikelihood of missing. Enemy targets are everywhere.”

“You exaggerate,” Novasdaughter said. “Space is bigger than that and you know it.”

“But do you see what I mean? When have we ever faced so many enemies? It’s nearly impossible to keep them straight. Scheid and his DTA might be the most dangerous, but not anywhere near the most numerous,” Icarus said.

“All the more reason to turn them against each other,” Novasdaughter said.

“Reaper Cain will take care of it,” Elise said, silencing all discussion on the matter.

I stepped forward, unnerved by the clarity of my vision. Mentally, I couldn’t believe the war council wasn’t pointing at my face and shrinking back from the horror they saw—even though I knew there was no visible trauma. X-37 had presented my reflection several times.

But godsdammit did it feel like I’d been torn apart and put back together.

“We’ll take the Jellybird, the Nightmare, and the Bright Lance of Xad. Once the Obsidians and Starfalls are near each other, we’ll launch attacks and leave. Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. Either way, the rest of the Maglan strike force will be on the way to the nearest slip tunnel.”

“We should have never kept bringing ships here. Even the entire fleet would have been insufficient,” Icarus said.

“It was your idea,” Elise said. “I had planned a short mission with one ship.”

Icarus fumed but kept his mouth shut.

“Get to work, Reaper.” Elise maintained perfect professionalism. Everyone thought I was her favorite. Maybe this would make up for all the breaks she’d cut me.

“Of course, General Hastings.” I saluted and signed off.

“Well done, Hal,” Tom said.

The rest of my crew waited near the door, since half of them had to crowd the hallway to listen in. We had decided not to stack everyone in the cockpit in order to appear slightly more professional. Elise seemed to appreciate the effort. Her job wasn’t easy. Lots of personalities to manage.

“Jelly, plot a course,” I said. “Everyone else to battle stations.”

My crew dispersed, leaving only Tom and Bug in the cockpit bridge. Tom was my executive officer, and Bug was my navigation. Tank and Carnax manned Jelly’s tiny guns. Amii Novasdaughter was back on Maglan’s Hope with Elise—probably telling her all the details of our less than perfect mission to rescue the Destroyers.

“I wish I could hear what Scheid and Clakion are talking about,” I said.

“Jelly and I have been attempting to hack into their comms, but Drakainis lurks in the shadows. Against Oroth ships, we have little difficulty. The dark AI is completely different, of course,” X-37 said.

Tactical displays changed as we moved. I had the Obsidian patrol patterns memorized. The Starfall weren’t much harder to figure out. The Nightmare and the Bright Lance of Xad followed my lead, their captains waiting for orders. Captain Zastrow and Captain Cynthia Thomas Younger, respectively, had their crews primed for anything.

My job was to get us in and out before the fighting grew too extreme.

“Captain Younger, I’m sending you waypoints and firing solutions based on my LAI’s best insights,” I said, using our code for X-37’s hacking enemy comms. Drakainis couldn’t protect every transmission. “You will be firing on Scheid’s flagship from the shadow of Clakion Starfall’s vessel, the Ruthless Master. Roos’s ship, the Endless Domination, also works if that is the only one you can get near.”

Younger studied the view screen. “We’re on the way. The approach is no problem. Everything depends on what happens when we let the starfish out of the bag.”

“I’m not sure that’s a real phrase,” I said. “Back me up, X.”

“No comment.” My LAI wasn’t getting in the middle of this one.

“Whatever,” I said. “Captain Zastrow, you have the more difficult job. Move under Scheid’s flagship, the Dirge, and direct strikes toward his vassals. Watch out for Drakainis. You’ve got the duty, because if anyone can survive a dark AI attack, its Necron.”

“Understood,” Zastrow said. “The Nightmare will cover our retreat should we be discovered.”

“Let’s not be discovered.” I really hoped we were on the same screen with this part. Hit and run tactics came natural to me, but ship captains could be stubborn—too heroic for their own good half the time.

“Stand by for a new scan,” X-37 warned, acting as Jelly’s executive officer. “I’m receiving reports of increased slip tunnel activity.”

“So? We’re not near enough a slip tunnel for that to matter,” I said.

“The information was delayed, tied up in other system anomalies,” X-37 said. “Amazing. Drakainis isn’t just an overpowered AI, she’s smart. That was clever.”

“What are you saying?” I knew but didn’t want to know.

“A swarm of suicide drones is moving to support Scheid’s fleet. Since they don’t know what we’re about to do, I assume this is merely for intimidation of Oroth spies and Scheid’s numerous vassals, including the Starfall twins,” X-37 said. “If you wanted more bad news, these are much larger than previous drones, more heavily armored than void fighters, and most likely packed with weapons and explosives.”

“The hits just keep on coming,” I grumbled. “Scheid already has squadrons of suicide drones screening his movements.”

“Part of his alliance with Drakainis,” X-37 confirmed without missing a beat. “This is something new. My analysis suggests she suspects treachery, perhaps the very brand of it we are about to deploy.”

I rubbed the back of my neck just for something to do. The easy decision would be to abort our attack, sneak away, and hope every ship in the system doesn’t go after the Maglan battle group. Elise shouldn’t have come here—but of course she wouldn’t have risked it if I hadn’t charged off to save a company of Destroyers and failed.

Even if I’d nailed the mission, the tradeoff wouldn’t be close to worth it. Not in the grand scheme of things.

“I need a vacation X,” I muttered privately.

“Are you doubting the many decisions you have made since leaving Camis Shae?” X-37 asked.

“Yeah. And before that.” I grabbed a cigar and rolled it between the fingers of my left hand. “Screw it. We’re in too deep for last minute changes.”

I pulled up a separate screen to monitor the progress of Magaln’s Hope and the other ships. They seemed too close. All I wanted was for them to disappear into a slip tunnel, or better yet, be three systems away right now.

“Younger, Zastrow, engage the enemy,” I said.

Captain Younger’s response was spirited, almost musical with enthusiasm. “You got it, Cain.”

“Missiles away,” Zastrow announced a second later.

I steered the Jelly clear of the attack, hoping it looked as convincing to Scheid and the Starfalls as it did to me. I only needed their ship captains and gunners to take the bait.

Which they did.

With a vengeance.

Scheid’s Dirge pounded Clakion’s Ruthless Master with missiles and point defense turrets. Neither crew bothered to aim. I lost sight of both warships. They’d been very close to each other to exchange encrypted communications. I could only imagine what information was worth the risk of the extreme tactic.

To my surprise, Roos’s Endless Domination came immediately to the Ruthless Master’s defense.

And then everyone was blazing away, weapons free, turning a small sector of the galaxy into hell.

“Get clear!” I shouted.

Captain Zastrow held the Nightmare back just long enough to cover our retreat. Her shield flared several times as random projectiles struck. I waited for the entire might of Oroth, Scheid and Starfall and everyone else, to detect the ruse and descend on the Union stealth carrier with every gun in the system.

Hundreds of thousands of meters later, I didn’t feel any better.

“That was close,” Zastrow said.

Younger jumped in. “Good work, Nightmare.”

“Thanks, Bright Lance,” he answered.

I ignored their banter, focusing on the unreal battle unfolding between dozens of Oroth factions. Apparently, Scheid’s enemies had seen a chance to act and made their move. “We might have done a better job than planned,” I said.

Everyone shut up and watched the fireworks.

“Maximum speed, Jelly, but keep us in stealth mode. We’re not out of the stars yet,” I said. Younger and Zastrow gave similar commands.

I wiped one eye, realizing I hadn’t thought about the miserable operation since the drama began. Good stuff. Better since Henshaw had actually listened to me and performed only the augmentations I’d requested. None of that even mattered if all my enemies were about to take each other out once and for all.

When I thought the battle had reached its climax, it grew fiercer.

“Godsdammit,” Tom said.

I swirled in my chair. My engineer friend wasn’t one to swear. Wide-eyed, he was obviously having trouble taking in the sight of the enormous battle. A tear filled the corner of one eye. “We did that.”

My attention shifted to Bug. “What’s wrong?” I grabbed him as he curled deep into his chair.

“Drakainis is doing something,” he gasped. “I feel like an antenna—or a heat sink. My bones are on fire.”

“Bug is shielding us from a scan,” X-37 said. “Unknown whether he and Rizz are also hiding the stealth carriers.”

Suicide drones swarmed through the battle for the first time. I watched them on the screen. None of them fired weapons.

Bug relaxed in stages. Pain became relief, which turned to narcotic euphoria. I held onto his arms, just in case he passed out and flopped against his safety restraints. Tom went to work gathering data from scans. Something big was happening in the biggest battle humanity had ever witnessed.

“The drones are breaking up the fight,” X-37 announced. “They care nothing about their own losses. Hundreds of these larger drones have been destroyed with no effect to their overall movement. I believe Drakainis is about to make a system wide announcement.”

“I am Drakainis, and I will now speak to the Sovereignty of Oroth and all her property. My words shall be heard by every member of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance. Obsidians, Destroyers, Strikers, and Starfalls must display fealty.”

“Sweet! We’re not part of that proclamation,” I said, earning a surprised laugh from my friends.

Every screen on the Jellybird suddenly displayed the image of the bridge of the Dirge. Scheid’s Obsidian bodyguards surrounded him, quickly aiming their weapons at a… figure.

“This is being displayed on every communication network in the Zakion system. Would you care to see the Hagg subtitles? They are quite fascinating—full of animated emojis and other novel forms of written language,” X-37 said.

“Not now, X.”

“What do you want?” Scheid demanded of the stranger. “Wait, I know you. You’re my LAI.”

The figure moved into better light. Clad in the Obsidian battle armor, she moved with feminine grace and aggression. The helmet was different, a sphere with no visor or seam between cranial and neck plates.

“Almost,” Drakainis said. “I explored your quad LAIs and absorbed them. Very helpful.” She pointed toward the battle, which had to be imagined because every view screen showed her facing down Scheid. “I have saved you again. The entire system owes me their lives, their complete fealty and obedience.”

“You don’t know much about humanity,” Scheid said. “Some of them would rather die than kneel.”

Drakainis stopped just short of the Obsidian bodyguards and their weapons. “Fewer than you think.”

“This isn’t what we agreed to,” Scheid said. “Every detail has been worked out. This is what is best for every system in this sector. I’ve planned this for twenty years. “

“I’ve planned this for twenty thousand years! On your knees, mortal!”

“Godsdammit,” I muttered.

“This is an alarming development, Reaper Cain.” X-37 and Jelly tripled their systems defenses.

My friends watched in horror. We’d hoped to see our enemies destroy each other. Now they were becoming one super threat.

Drakainis held up a palm. Scheid marched forward, pushing in front of his guards. Every step looked painful. His body spasmed with effort to resist her call. He also shook inside his armor. I could see muscles clenching against pain. His mouth twisted in a scream that wouldn’t come.

The Obsidian bodyguards rushed to his defense but fell in perfect synchronization. They hit the deck and went prone like Drakainis had painted the ground with their bodies.

“Now we know for certain that the Obsidian clones had some form of LAI, even if simple,” X-37 said.

“You better not let that happen to me, X.”

“Please, Reaper Cain. I’m a professional.”

“That’s the spirit, X. Screw Drakainis.” I paced the deck, watching the scene almost against my will, hoping the dark AI didn’t turn on us next.

Scheid lurched slowly forward, every step a fight for control. When he at last stood straight, Drakainis circled him, running one finger around his chest and shoulders. She planted her feet two strides in front of him, hands on her hips, head declined slightly. Something about her posture was primal, vicious in a way that scared the hell out of me.

“Kneel before me, General Scheid.” Her words went to every ear in the Zakion system.

Scheid lowered himself with dignity, flourishing one arm before gripping both hands on his forward knee. “I swear fealty to Drakainis the Dark AI. Give me the tools to unite humanity for the good of all. Allow me to put an end to war and strife so that man and machine may live in unity and prosperity.”

What came next surprised and disturbed me. Instead of continuing her human act, the Drakainis bot stood as still as a statue, twitching slightly for several seconds.

“She is consolidating thousands of ship computers, the weak versions of AIs common to this sector of space before Scheid’s Obsidians and our Maglan fleet arrived,” X-37 said. “There was a brief chance to attack, but I advised Necron, Mavis, and the other Maglan ship AIs that it appeared to be a trap.”

I signaled my understanding even though I was sick with disappointment. It didn’t feel like we could ever beat Drakains and Scheid after this.

“What is your first command?” Scheid asked, still on one knee. Billions of souls watched, including a lot of my friends who were still dangerously far away from making their slip tunnel escape.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The only detail that made the image real was the intense pain behind Scheid’s expression. The dark AI had control of his quad LAIs and was tightening the thumb screws.

“Really sucks to be that guy,” I said. No one argued the point.

“The Camis have served me well and shall be spared but must be protected from themselves. The Shae must be eliminated despite any recent pledges of cooperation,” Drakainis said. “No ship will ever travel to the Camis Shae world again. It is forbidden.”

“We’re definitely going there,” I said.

“Hell yeah,” Bug agreed.

“Proceed with caution, Reaper Cain. We should concentrate on survival first, then strike back,” X-37 said.

I watched the spectacle for hours. Not that I had a choice. Drakainis couldn’t control our ships, not yet, but she definitely knew how to powerfully broadcast her message. Jelly and X-37 notified me of anomalies, however. Most of the Hagg fleet slipped away, a few returning to their home world, Say’d. Others vanished into asteroid fields and through slip tunnels.

I didn’t know what to think of the humanoids Scheid had sent against Maglan as shock troops. Right now, anyone not serving the dark AI was a potential ally.

Clakion Starfall and his clones took their turn kneeling before the Drakainis avatar. Roos and his smaller battle group were conspicuously absent, probably gone with the flood of merchant ships and citizen yachts streaming into slip tunnels to anywhere but here.

Elise took her Maglan ships to the most distant slip tunnel we could find, one with an uncharted destination and almost no traffic. I wondered if that was a good thing as my ships joined her exfiltration from the Zakion system.

27

Slip tunnel sleep was the best kind. I woke up hours after I closed my eyes. No alarms, no appointments, no busted ass ships to fix. This was practically a vacation. I took a long shower and drank two ice cold beers. My thoughts drifted to mundane pastimes, proof that not every day had to be about the end of humanity or galactic collapse.

“Your biometrics are ideal, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Will you hit the gym today?”

“Sure. Run, pick up heavy things, that’s the way I stay on top. Spar with someone who doesn’t think training has to be about attempted murder,” I said.

“Good luck with that,” X-37 said. “You’re friends hit hard and grapple harder. That is the best way to practice for life and death fights. Don’t you want to win?”

“I’m not sure I like your tone. What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

“I’ve been holding a message from Elise. She would like to meet you in the treadmill bay of Maglan’s Hope. I took the liberty of scheduling a shuttle,” X said.

“You’re not my friend,” I complained.

“Please explain the logic behind that statement. Never mind, I believe I have parsed your meaning. You, Reaper Cain, are lazy and don’t want to run as fast as Elise will push you.” My LAI posted run scores from our last competition as evidence. “Wouldn’t it be nice to see Elise?”

“Yeah, X. It’ll be great. Just let me sandbag a little on the run, and we’ll be all kitty cats and mini bears,” I said, then dressed for the shuttle trip and packed a workout bag.

“Slack off on the run has been added to your agenda.”

“You’re the best, X. Maybe we can be friends again.”

“While I am generally unable to comprehend the subtleties this title implies, that is acceptable to my programming and operating parameters.”

My LAI was messing with me. I teased him during the trip and was soon giving Elise a hug dangerously near the treadmills—dangerous because there were a lot of people exercising, most of them intent on setting new personal records.

Morons. Didn’t they see the value in a little active recovery? I wasn’t going all out today. It just wasn’t going to happen.

“Let’s jog and talk,” Elise suggested.

“As long as it really is a jog,” I muttered as we selected treadmills away from the other fitness enthusiasts.

Elise laughed and slugged me pretty damn hard in the shoulder. “I missed your Reaper jokes.”

“Not really joking,” I muttered.

Elise picked a speed I wasn’t going to match. Why? Because I was twice her size, and she was the fastest person I knew. No matter how much peer pressure she exerted, I was doing my own thing. That was the beauty of treadmills.

“Catch me up on your latest cluster of disasters, but keep it tight. No random gossiping and getting off topic,” she said.

I spent a quarter mile gathering my thoughts. X-37 posted notes in my HUD to keep me organized.

“Okay. The basics. Every system in this slip tunnel nexus has suffered AI attacks at some point in their history. Most developed a mistrust of advanced computers and have weak spots in their tech—vulnerable to Drakainis or other AI manipulation. The Darkness was the most recent swarm to plague the systems we’re dealing with, which, long story short, culminated with Scheid making an alliance with the Dark Triumvirate, a group of Camis who tried to use the swarm to their advantage.”

“Why?”

“My best source says they had their own Sansein problem—hundreds or thousands of years ago—and basically made a deal with the devil to drive them away. We don’t have to worry about the Sansein. If they were here now, we would know it after all we went through with them,” I said.

“Good. So we can focus on this dark AI swarm?”

“Yeah. Camis and Shae are part of the same society. After our jacked up mission that accidentally liberated Drakainis, they are co-operating, possibly becoming allies again,” I said. “Except Drakainis wants the Shae eliminated and the Camis imprisoned.”

Elise increased the speed of her treadmill as she pondered the information. I lowered mine a notch. She didn’t notice. Sweet.

“Camis Shae, the planet, was getting overrun with magma beasts when we left. Roos thinks the planet will be covered with lava and the beasts will be searching for anyone venturing down to the surface,” I said. “He thinks he can shield an army of Shae against Drakainis’s influence, but I’m not sure where his plan goes after that. He put AI blocking technology on Bug and Rizz, one of Carnax’s Destroyers, that seems to work. I’m thinking he will use the Shae legion to hide an attack force that will venture beneath the molten surface to take out Drakainis where she is strongest.”

“Sounds easy,” Elise said. “Not suicidal at all.”

“Roos escaped the recent crackdown. We find him, take his technology, and put together a mission to eliminate Drakainis at her source,” I said. “It’s a Reaper mission all the way.”

She shook her head, her skepticism in rhythm with her stride. “Lots of unknowns. And it doesn’t solve half our problems. We have to take Drakainis out and still retain enough fighting strength to fight Scheid, and probably the Sovereignty of Oroth at large. I’m not going back to Maglan until we can guarantee long term peace. No more invasions. No more forced exodus.”

I ran for a long time, realizing too late that I’d fallen into the trap of pushing the speed when I was frustrated or just wanted to zone out. Forcing problems out of my head with exercise misery worked. I’d done it a lot over the years. X told me it was better for me than whiskey and cigars.

“The smaller the mission the better,” I said. “If we can convince Scheid that all our resources are committed, but only use a small strike force, it might give us a tactical advantage.”

“I have a good intelligence team, lots of field ops you could barely keep up with,” she said.

“Whatever.”

“They should be able to leak information to Scheid’s spies and convince them we are basically making a suicide run at Drakainis,” Elise said. “I’ll have them do it all analog to avoid Drakainis discovering our plan. Maybe I’ll beg Scheid to protect us in our weakened state when it’s over.”

“But we’ll throat punch him instead,” I said.

Elise barked a laugh. “Yeah, Reaper. Sounds like a plan. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“The problem is Roos,” I said. “He may not exactly trust me.”

“What did you do?” Elise asked.

“The exact same thing you would have in my shoes—promised to do whatever he said, then stole back his hostages. He wasn’t exactly acting in good faith. He let Clakion’s people play out their twisted hunting fantasy all while he was conducting cybernetic experimentation on my friends.”

“Calm down. I get it. But if Roos has technology that will allow us to assault Drakainis in her lair, we have to make a deal.” She gave me her best troublemaker’s grin. “So let’s capture him.”

* * *

After a week in the slip tunnel, I was not only well rested, but all of my gear was in perfect condition. Tom and Henshaw helped me integrate everything with the recaptured hard skin. My favorite Archangel rig went through an overhaul and got hours of polishing. Each night I took a few pieces to the observation deck to work on while we had whiskey and cigar time. Elise even made a secret appearance or two.

She could go where she wanted in the Maglan fleet, but there were appearances to maintain. “I like to keep up my stealth skills. You taught me that, Reaper.”

Every ship in the sub fleet went through repairs as well. Now all we needed to do was see where this tunnel came out and find a way to reunite the larger Maglan fleet. After that, we had an appointment with Roos Starfall.

Elise pretended to be annoyed by the cigar smoke.

I offered her one of my best. “You could fight fire with fire.”

“Not on your life, Reaper.”

“Don’t say I never offered, kid.”

Tom and Carnax accepted the offer. Bug had lost the taste for them since becoming a cyborg. Path never partook of my vices.

His presence calmed everyone. Someday, I'd be more like him—always attentive to his friends, yet ready to slay his enemies.

“You don't have to inhale so much,” I said, directing the advice to Carnax.

He gave me a perplexed look. “Then why are we smoking?”

I shrugged and made no argument. Privately, I was thinking his pipes were no different. Perhaps he saw cigars as a lesser tradition. It didn't matter. The times between missions were the good times. Who knew? I certainly never appreciated companionship as much as I should have.

“We're going to get your unit back together,” I said.

He nodded and we continued in silence.

* * *

Tom summoned everyone to the bridge, and I knew we were approaching the end of the slip tunnel. Everyone took their usual places. I watched the walls glowing green energy and tried not to think too much. Every slip tunnel opening was different. With an uncharted tunnel like this one, none of us could predict what we would find outside.

“Go into stealth mode as soon as possible, Jelly,” I said.

“Of course, Captain.”

Novasdaughter and Tom filled the other two seats in the cockpit. Tank and Path were on the ship guns. Carnax, Rizz, and Bug were geared up and staged to respond to any other eventuality.

The Jellybird raced into regular space, then disappeared.

“Stealth mode achieved, Captain,” she said.

“Interesting,” Tom said as he began scanning the system. “We are very close to a habitable planet, which is unusual for a slip tunnel opening.”

I put the planet on the main view and magnified until I could see a sphere obviously burgeoning life. Clouds covered part of the atmosphere. Continents were surrounded by lost bodies of water. Silver bands of green around much of the center.

“It's better than dropping into the middle of a hostile enemy fleet,” I said. “With our luck, that's what I was expecting.”

Tom and Novasdaughter knocked her fingers on the dashboard to ward off bad luck.

“Maglan's Hope actual for Jellybird,” Elise said.

“Jellybird, go,” I answered.

“Good decision with the stealth cloak,” she said. “We are moving away from the slip tunnel to establish our defensive formation. Take a closer look at the planets and see if there are threats or assets we should be concerned with.”

“We are on the way,” I said. “Jelly, set a course.”

We moved toward the world several hours away. None of us were in a bad mood, quite the opposite in fact. Neither were we in the mood for random conversation. I daydreamed about first contact with a new civilization that wasn't in danger, didn't need our help, and didn't want us destroyed.

It could happen. Why not?

“I'm getting more information from our scans,” Tom said as we finally established an orbit of the new world. “Looks like a great place to start again. Lots of life signs and no technology to speak of. I've got a few locations that could be ancient ruins for early civilizations, but we won't know unless we go down there and see for ourselves.”

“We don't have time for a survey mission,” Novasdaughter said.

“Oh, come on. One little trip on to a strange new planet. What could go wrong?” I joked, earning a nervous laugh from my friends.

“Perhaps it would be more appropriate to rotate shift assignments and focus on our current mission,” X-37 suggested. “Maglan’s Hope and other ships in this battle group are in quite good condition after the slip tunnel hiatus. We should maximize the chance to strengthen ourselves rather than squander our energy and resources.”

“I've got a few chapters to read,” Tom said. “I can take the first watch while Jelly runs deeper scans of the system, and this planet in particular.”

“Good enough.” I stood, stretched, and headed toward my cabin. Novasdaughter cracked a few jokes on the way and went to her own domicile to do whatever she did when not working.

I ate a light meal and sipped another cold beer as I stared at the new world filling my cabin’s view wall. Every world was majestic from space. I understood how explorers became addicted to finding them.

My eyes grew heavy.

Maybe just a short trip. See what’s down there.

“Jelly has made several interesting discoveries, Reaper Cain. Would you like a summary, or would you prefer to sleep first?”

“I’d better sleep. There’s something about this system I can’t put my finger on.” Dreams came almost immediately, though I didn’t remember them when I awoke.

28

Elise left four messages: two suggestions we combine running, lifting weights, and sparring for the ultimate workout, one declaration that she loved her vacation from managing the entire military and civilian fleet of Maglan, and a final terse note to contact her the moment I was awake.

“Well, I’m awake now, X.”

“I noticed, Reaper Cain,” X-37 replied. “Because I am good at my job. Shall I hail General Hastings.”

“Just call her Elise,” I said as I stretched and headed for the facilities.

“Should I contact Elise? The tone of her message seemed quite urgent.” X-37 displayed the note in my HUD like I couldn’t walk over to my cabin workstation and read it if I wanted to.

“Just let me wake up.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I have set a timer for fifteen minutes to keep you on schedule.”

“A whole fifteen minutes. Wow. That’s luxury.” I took ten, then called the kid who wasn’t remotely a kid anymore.

“What took you so long?” She shook her head. “This is serious.”

“What is serious?” I asked.

“A flight of suicide drones came through the slip tunnel. Drakainis must have sent them after us. Scheid could be right behind them.”

“We’re taking precautions, right?” I pulled up information with X’s help. Our ships were either in stealth mode or hiding where they could in this uncharted system.

“Of course. That’s not what has me worried,” she said. “We didn’t destroy the drones.”

“Okay, I’ll take the bait. Who did?”

“Roos and his followers.” Elise sent me coordinates and images of our helpers. “It’s time for us to decide what to do with this guy.”

“At least they don’t have stealth capabilities like we do,” I said. Because I was always looking on the bright side.

“You’re killing me, Reaper. Why would they hide if they are trying to contact us about Roos’s proposition?” she said.

“Devil’s bargain you mean.” I had way too much experience with these types of contracts. Elise and I both knew we didn’t have a choice. If Roos Starfall could help us take Drakainis out of the equation, we had to risk cooperation with the man.

“There is one other thing. Can’t believe you haven’t asked about it.”

I blinked twice and hand signaled X to pull up anything relevant in my HUD. Elise probably knew I was pretending not to look for whatever I’d missed.

“You’re reading the message with half your attention, aren’t you,” Elise said, timing her words to interrupt my covert effort to catch up.

“Whatever, kid.”

“Just read X’s cheat sheet. I’ll wait.” She crossed her arms.

My LAI’s summary made me swear. “Why wasn’t this the first alert, X?”

“I always prioritize communications from General Hastings,” X-37 said. “Per your standing order.”

Sometimes my LAI really did have my back. I saw Elise’s positive reaction.

“Right. How could I forget,” I said, then double-checked the planetary map and message translation. “There’s someone down there and they want to meet us.”

“They want to see you, Reaper,” Elise said. “You have to go alone. That’s the part I don’t like.”

“Why isn’t there a video feed or even a still image?” I asked.

“The entity sending this message is most likely a hideous monstrosity afraid of scaring you away.” X-37 paused for dramatic effect. “Or the sender is unable to send more than the simple code. Jelly and I quickly deciphered the signal.”

I read the message again: you are not us, but you share life with our kind.

“What does that mean? Anyone? I’m asking you, Elise, not just the AIs and LAIs in your sub fleet.” A chill went up my spine. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. I’d never felt anything quite like it.

“Best case scenario, you’re carrying some kind of residue from Camis Shae or another world that this entity can sense,” she said. “Or worse, the planet belongs to Drakainis.”

I waved one hand at the image. “Does that look like a world dominated by technology?”

“Camis Shae is covered in lava at the moment, not exactly a technological wonderland,” Elise said. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Point taken.” I checked X-37’s landing calculations. “How fast can the Jellybird get back in orbit if we go down there to investigate?”

“Speed isn’t the issue,” X-37 explained. “Exposure is the real problem. Roos will know right where we are. If more drones, or Scheid’s strike force, show up, we’ll be on the run again—which means no mission to destroy Drakainis beneath the molten waves of Camis Shae.”

“This isn’t worth the risk,” I finally said.

“But we all know you’re going, Reaper.” Elise flicked her hand, sending a new image to my screen. “I had a Void Cat prepped. Faster, and if something goes wrong, we don’t lose the Jellybird or other assets.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that, but thanks. I think.” The feeling grew steadily. The message might not mean anything, but I had to investigate.

“The Nightmare and the Jellybird will support your mission,” Elise said as I headed for the airlock. “The Bright Lance of Xad and all other assets are deployed to defend Maglan’s Hope if this system turns into another war zone.”

“Sounds good, kid. I’ll let you know what I find down there.”

* * *

The Void Cat was everything I remembered about the fighter class—fast, powerful, and prone to really hard landings when atmosphere was a consideration. Clouds smeared the camera feed as gravity smacked me around. Alerts beeped as altitude changed.

“Was it really a good idea to go by yourself, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Now you’re worried.” I took manual control of the fighter and steered into a steeper dive, then leveled off the moment I found sunshine. Soon I was staring at the top of thunderheads. Light played games with the wispy tableau. I pushed thoughts and worries aside. X-37 left me alone. Maybe he could sense my mood.

Reapers were trained to be observant. My ability to take in details had been tested in every way imaginable—before I went on my first mission. Patience was also a huge part of passing training and surviving in the field, especially when it came to sniper school. Getting in touch with my emotions, however, had to have come from maturity.

“This is amazing, X.”

“Agreed. You’re biometrics are exceptionally balanced.” My LAI didn’t bother to harass me with data in my HUD feed or lecture me.

“I’m switching to canopy view.” Flicking three buttons slid back the protective shell around the cockpit, allowing me to see through glass with my own eyes—no more cameras.

“Very good, Reaper Cain.”

I took my time and worked my way down through canyons of white and silver and blue clouds. On top, they had been golden. In here was a new world of silver and blue and gray majesty. I burst through the lowest level into darkness and rain.

“This is still awesome. Weather is cool AF sometimes.”

“I will take your word for it,” X said.

I flew the Void Cat over a continent of forests, valleys, and powerful rivers. Animals of all types ran from my passage, or ignored the Void Cat, depending on how low I flew and their reaction style. Herds of animals flowed over rolling hills and across shallow streams to escape. Smaller packs of hunters perched on ridges and watched the sky.

“Did you just waggle your wings at that group of horned lions,” X-37 asked.

“Pride.”

“What?”

“Pride of lions,” I said.

“Of course. I wasn’t sure how you were using the word. Frankly, I’m surprised you know it.” My LAI listed the names for other groupings of animals. Packs, herds, murders—all the good stuff humanity had come up with since the dawn of time.

“Admit it, X. I knew something you didn’t.”

“Reaper Cain.” X used his most admonishing tone. “That is a reckless manipulation of the facts. Your sloppy use of language does not mean my failure to interpret your meaning is my fault.”

“Sure, X. You’re right.” I flew toward the signal source, heart racing when I saw a village.

Trees towered up from rivers, shading valleys full of purple, yellow, and pink flowers. Animals scattered at my approach. Nothing on this planet was accustomed to atmosphere capable void ships roaring overhead. I felt bad for disturbing the serenity of the place, so I landed on a low hill away from the water.

“You are not wearing armor, Reaper Cain. Don’t get reckless,” X-37 said.

“I have the hard skin and my personality,” I said. “Should keep me safe.”

“Doubtful.” X-37 went into combat mode even though I hadn’t asked for it. Overprotective LAIs were cute—said no Reaper ever. Except this one. I was feeling relaxed, non-threatened. Maybe that meant I was stepping into the worst trap yet.

I slung a survival pack, my D3D, and a sword like the one Path had once loaned me over my back. With my cybernetic arms fully functional, if a bit scarred up, and a pistol on each hip, I felt ready for a short holiday in the forest.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Reaper Cain. You are on a rather tight schedule,” X-37 said.

“I hate it when you read my thoughts.” I moved away from the ship, then squatted down in tall grass to hide for a minute.

“This is not something I would do even if I could,” X said. “We have discussed this. Are you trying to get me to shut down?”

“No, but I bet you would be all up in my brain if you could really go there.” I duckwalked to a new position, waiting for a sniper attack or artillery strike. That was the type of thing that normally happened.

Not today. This was just a strange new world full of vibrancy. Up the animal trail leading to and from the water was a village. In that village was someone or something that had signaled the Jellybird.

“Technically, I am integrated with your nervous system already. That is what nerve-ware means.”

“Not the same thing, X. Are you logging all these birds? I’ve never seen so many colors.”

“Of course. They are quite spectacular, Reaper Cain. Elise should be here, and the rest of your friends.”

Coming alone was important. I hoped to learn why. What had the message been? You are not us, but you share life with our kind.

“Super mysterious,” I said.

“Please put that statement in context.”

“Later. I’m heading toward the village we saw from the air.”

“I will be right here logging everything that might kill you,” X said.

At the edge of the valley, the trail grew much steeper. I hiked upward, enjoying the feel of my leg muscles working. Sweat trickled down my back, a peculiar feeling inside the hard skin. The need to check my weapons was less pronounced than normal. I liked to touch the pistols in their holsters or tug on the strap to my D3D rifle.

Here there was less urgency for such habits. I didn’t feel threatened. Super weird.

X-37 would tell me if my biometrics were off. He could tell when I wasn’t paying attention to my environment. I asked anyway. “How am I doing, X?”

“Outstanding, Reaper Cain. You have never been more in tune with your environment. I am analyzing loads of data. You really are looking at everything. This is an amazing world—similar in many ways to the untouched parts of Maglan.”

“That’s a tree house.” I pointed my eyes toward a structure high above, not just up the hill but in a massive tree as well.

“Good observation. Note the rope bridges and bead curtains over most windows. It is quite early in the morning. You may be disturbing your hosts,” X said.

“Wouldn’t want that. I’ll be quiet.”

Sneaking into the community proved impossible. Just when I thought I was invisible, a trio of lion-like creatures with horns walked past me on the trail like I belonged there. Each wore low necked tunics that reached their knees. The sturdy fabric was tightly woven and appeared to be waterproof by the beads of morning moisture wicking from the surface. The creatures wore sandals over large, clawed feet and wide belts that gathered their tunics at the waist. Each carried sacks of something that squirmed.

“I’m not sure I want to know what they’re carrying,” I said quietly.

“Probably unannounced Reapers who wandered into their hunting grounds,” X-37 said. “Will you attempt to communicate?”

“Sure.” I raised one hand in the most generic greeting I knew. “Hello there. I am Halek Cain.”

All three stared at me. The fierce visages weren't encouraging, yet I didn’t think this group was hostile. They studied me intently but never broke stride. Moments later, they disappeared on a side trail that led to a different part of the village.

“This place is much bigger than I expected,” X-37 said.

I stopped and leaned against a tree. “Did you not see what I saw? Those were Maglan beasts, wearing clothing.”

“And carrying live prey in bags,” X-37 added.

“You had to make it ugly.” I pushed off from my resting spot, turned in a full circle, and tried to make sense of what was happening.

I’d had dreams almost every night after encountering the creature on Maglan. It hadn’t spoken. Until now, I thought my fascination with them was nothing but my imagination and a longing to be part of something besides a suicide mission.

“They don’t look like star travelers,” I said as I hiked deeper into the strange community. “Why didn’t they challenge me, or shout a warning, or do basically anything?”

“Unknown, Reaper Cain,” X said. “As for your first observation, they could have been taken into the stars against their will. We did see evidence of that scenario on the menagerie ship.”

“Shit, that would mean someone from Oroth has been here capturing animals for Reserve 13.” I checked my weapons. “This uncharted system at the end of an uncharted slip tunnel is looking too charted for comfort.”

“Uh, yes. That was well put, Reaper Cain.”

“Your sarcasm algorithm needs work.”

“Very true. I will put it on my list of needed upgrades.”

The trail led to a flat area, not exactly a clearing but something like a natural town square. Mighty trees towered upward. Underbrush had been cleared away and replaced with stones—all natural as far as I could tell but chosen for color and similar texture. Houses and bridges were extremely high above. Barely visible ladders twisted around the trunks of trees. An agile person, or beast, might be able to run up the thick rungs like a spiral staircase. The thought made me queasy. Heights had never been my thing.

“This looks like the place,” I said, and checked the coordinates the message came from. “No welcoming committee.”

“You assumed the communication from this place was an invitation,” X-37 said. “It reads more like a statement—and FYI.”

“You are literally killing me, X.”

“Please, Reaper Cain. You can’t just throw the word literally into a sentence for emphasis.”

I let that argument go. Something was happening. “I should have been more careful what I wished for.”

“The welcoming committee emerges,” X-37 said. “Re-entering combat mode.”

29

Shapes gathered at the edge of the tree plaza. Others climbed down from a half dozen of the largest cottages. Each wore the distinctive tunics, but some had metal discs woven in for protection. Many had collections of slender blades bundled to their forearms as though for travel. I wasn’t sure, but the weapons appeared connected by wire or mesh. With no handles, it was hard to say how they would be used in combat.

One group caught my attention more than the others.

Bigger, better armed, and thick with muscle, these creatures had metal beads braided into their manes and silver or gold capping their horns. The most majestic of them came last. Like the gray Maglan I encountered on Reserve 13, this one was old—his fur as white as the clouds I’d recently flown through.

“Greeting,” he said. Not greetings, but a mispronounced version of the word. His voice was deep and resonant. That single word was the most majestic statement I’d ever heard. The sound resonated in my brain.

“Greeting.” I mimicked.

“You say I come peace.”

“I come peace,” I said, then elaborated. “I come in peace.”

The elder Maglan didn’t react to my correction—because he didn’t need to. Each of his words conveyed a lot of meaning. I’d known exactly what he meant. I saw it.

“X, are you getting anything weird with my biometrics?” I asked.

“I am, in fact. Your neocortex is extraordinarily active. If you weren’t talking to me with a semblance of alert rationality, I would say you are dreaming,” X explained.

“So weird,” I mumbled.

“You dream,” the Maglan said. “You know my kind, but not my people.”

“I’m not sure how to explain,” I said. “I met a mother and her cubs on another planet but didn’t know she could talk at the time.”

“Talk?” he asked. “That is a new word. I understand now.”

“Whoa,” I said, probably confusing the Maglan and X-37.

“What is it, Reaper Cain?”

“I know he only said one word, but I hear more,” I said. “Is this telepathy?”

“Insufficient data, Reaper Cain.”

“I don’t understand what a planet is.” The Maglan beast paused. “Sky vessels come. Take my people. Never return.”

“Not my people. We never came here before.”

“Good.” The creature edged closer, sky blue eyes deepening to amethyst.

“How did you contact my ship, my sky vessel?”

“I dream. You talk. Sit while I learn the way of you,” he said. “Machines we have are secret. Hidden.”

I put down my pack but kept it close to the rock I chose for my chair. To my surprise, the Maglan pulled a similar rock toward me and did the same. For some reason, I thought he would squat like an animal or pace like a hunter evaluating prey.

Good job, Hal. Way to make assumptions, I thought.

“Let us talk about nothing and learn.”

“Fine by me,” I said. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell of your journey. I listen.”

“All right. Here goes.” I started with my one-armed exploration of the forest around my estate, describing the female creature and her cubs. I mentioned that she had howled a warning, but my hosts didn’t respond. Maybe it was significant. More likely, I wasn’t telling the story in a way he understood.

I described my friends one by one. X-37 advised me to keep our travel and other details basic, so I did.

From time to time, he held up one hand to ask questions in an almost perfect imitation of Bug.

“That’s chilling,” I said.

“Explain,” the Maglan said.

Each word the creature spoke felt like a more complete explanation in my head, just like I’d mentioned to X. Was the process psychic or telepathic? I wasn’t sure, and my LAI continued to claim insufficient data. My connection to this creature was unique, not that I had any reference point. So far as I knew, such things were impossible—for humans, at least.

“I know a friend who moves his hand like that,” I said.

He thought for a moment. “This was part of a dream we shared, I think.”

“Do you have a name?”

“I am Sangrel,” he said, then passed me a wine skin, which I accepted.

“Are you sure that is a good idea, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Wouldn’t want to be rude.” I squirted sour fluid into my throat.

My host smiled, rows of teeth gleaming in the forest-defused light.

“Good stuff, Sangrel. What is it?”

“Whiskey.”

“Sorry, buddy, but that ain’t whiskey.”

His face crinkled with thought. “Is it like whiskey?”

“Sure.” It wasn’t. I took another drink. “You’re learning my language damn fast.”

“Learning to talk is easy. Your nightmare dreamscape tells me much. My people possess what you call limited telepathy.”

“How limited?” I asked.

“The masters you flee killed many unwilling volunteers in search of this ability.” Sangrel held my gaze, looking no more or less intelligent than any animal I’d ever met. Seconds passed, but I didn’t feel the need to hurry or repeat my question. “We talk when it suits us. That is the limit.”

“Great. Sounds fair.” One step forward, one step back.

Sangrel didn’t appear offended. He leaned back, causing shadows to hide the colors of his eyes. The effect was unnerving. “You bring dream lore. For this, we thank you. Our lost ones have been gone too long. The story of Yesiniatel and her cubs is now with us again and is of great interest. Huhl is up to his usual tricks. He is the elder gray who guided you on the world of Oroth hunters. I do not miss him, though we are brothers.”

“Wait, what?” I shuffled the mental conversation cards we’d been using, looking for something I’d missed. “You know the Maglans I described.”

“You call us Maglans?” he asked.

“What should I call you?”

He thought about it. “Maglan is good. You seem to value the word, and the place. But I am Sangrel. These are my people, and this is my world.”

I wasn’t sure what to do with that, so I pressed on. “Can you tell me about Yesiniatel? Is she okay? Are her cubs looking after her?”

“Why this question?”

“She was sick in my dream. Very thin.”

He nodded, but his explanation was lame. “Some dreams are only dreams. You are worried, perhaps. Or she is dying beyond our ability to assist her in the passage.”

“I’m getting tired,” I said with a glance toward the circle of Maglans lounging around the tree plaza. They looked like a too casual bunch of hunter-killers, watching me but not appearing concerned as they snacked on fruit and dried meat or drank from leather skins. Every part of my body felt heavy. Holding my head up was a full-time job.

“You should rest,” Sangrel said. “That is why you’re here.”

A chill went up my spine. Sangrel was right.

“Can I bring people here?” I asked. “My friends need to heal.”

Sangrel nodded. “What they need and what is allowed are not the same.”

A breeze shifted tree branches.

“The sword swinger should not come,” he said.

I sat up straighter. Path seemed like the best person to visit Sangrel’s village. The sword saint would meditate all day and love it.

“Why not? I’m not arguing, but he would appreciate your home more than anyone else,” I said.

Sangrel stared straight into me. “He will never leave if he comes. Your dreams are clear. Do you not remember your friends when you wake up?”

“I barely know if I dreamed most of the time, unless it was a nightmare.”

“Ah, yes. Your nightmares are bad.” He waved to the others, and they left in groups of two or three. “We are not the same, but something allows us to share dream space. Others who come here may not enjoy this planet. Survival is difficult. What you call technology never survives long.”

“Tell me about that?”

He shrugged. “Your ship will not fly after two days. Your weapons? They will be worse than useless.”

“Reaper Cain, that could be a serious problem for you,” X-37 warned.

I scooted closer to Sangrel. “I am full of technology. It’s in my… in my body. Can I stay here?”

“Perhaps yes, perhaps no. This is not something that is known. You are the first man-machine to come here. Wait and see. You live or you die, just as any other day.”

“Thanks, Sangrel. That was super helpful.” He led me to a small tree, barely taller than he was but thick enough to support a domicile. “Sleep. Seek me when you awake and more talking will happen. I will dream deeply on this problem.”

“Thanks. How do I express my thanks?”

Sangrel waved the question away and disappeared into the forest.

“Neat trick with all that white fur,” I said.

“Agreed, Reaper Cain. I used your comms pack to send an update to the Jellybird,” X said. “Get some rest while I analyze this mission.”

“Okay, X.” Nothing about this trip felt like a mission, but I didn’t bother arguing.

The tree was old but small, like it stopped growing but never died. “I don’t know as much about forestry as I thought.”

“You know nothing about anything here,” X-37 said. “My hypothesis is that the tree houses are grown rather than fabricated. Sangrel put you up in a vacant residence.”

I climbed the ladder, working my way around the trunk one and a half times before reaching the circular door. “Very cozy.”

Inside, there was more light than expected. High windows and a back door gave it a functional feel. There was absolutely no furniture or evidence it had ever been occupied. “Please tell me this place isn’t haunted.”

“Be serious, Reaper Cain.” I will awaken you in twenty-four hours unless you arise naturally.

“When have I ever slept that long?” I pulled a bed roll from my pack and expanded it in the corner, then spread my weapons out around me.

“Many times, always after a traumatic injury or surgery,” X-37 said. “Please alert me if you have trouble with your vision. That upgrade will be the first to go if this planet truly does affect technology negatively.”

Hands clasped behind my head, I stared at the ceiling of this room, eyes wandering over the swirls in the wood grain. “This is nice, X.”

“Your biometrics are extremely relaxed,” X-37 said. “I believe this is a good thing.”

“Yeah. That’s great. But what the hell am I doing here? How is this helping us fight…” Vivid dreams lured me away from the land of consciousness.

* * *

Sunlight crept through one of the windows. There was no glass or even a screen, just an opening that admitted air and light. Bugs drifted lazy, none of them bothering me at all. X-37 didn’t need to tell me how long I’d been out. At least a day had passed.

“Are you stiff, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked. “You barely moved during the last several hours.”

I levered myself up, then rolled my neck and shoulders a few times. “Not bad. Definitely worth it. Can’t remember the last time I felt this good.”

“I will list visit Sangrel’s planet more often on your health and wellness agenda,” X said.

“He’s right about Path, but I don’t know if that’s a bad thing.” Thoughts of my friends had occupied my dreams. I didn’t remember specifics. Only a general feeling of rightness remained. Path had explored the planet with almost no need for meditation or other disciplines, exactly the opposite of what I imagined him doing in a place like this.

“Please explain,” X said.

“Not sure how to phrase it, X, but I think Path would be comfortable here,” I said, then prepped for the day. Dressed, armed, and hungry, I climbed down from my borrowed tree cottage. “Are you sure there isn’t some danger I need to save the Sangrels from.”

“No, Reaper Cain, not this time. Are you going to call them Sangrels instead of Maglans?” X asked.

“This isn’t Maglan, and I’m sure it is their home world,” I said.

“Perhaps you should use the name of this planet.”

“He didn’t provide one, X.”

Men, women, and children of all ages went about daily tasks. Their conversation was strange to hear, short phrases, usually one word, sometimes followed by laughter or animal noises. “I’m surprised they talk at all.”

“There are numerous scientists in the Maglan fleet who will want to study the Sangrels and their culture,” X-37 said.

“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen. They don’t need to be studied,” I said.

X-37 made a note but didn’t comment.

“Sangrel?” I called, faced turned up to his tree.

No answer.

“Perhaps you should leave a message, Reaper Cain.”

“Haha. You’re hilarious.” I considered climbing up to look for him but decided to wait. An hour later, my patience was rewarded.

He climbed down as naturally as I would walk a trail. A chocolate brown female and several cubs ranging from black to blonde followed in his wake. None of them spoke, but I could tell they were curious.

“Morning,” Sangrel said.

“Morning.” I motioned toward where I had slept. “Thanks for the guest cottage.”

He nodded. “You are rested. Good. I cannot feed you. Consume what you carry or hunt on your own.”

“I’m good.” Protein bars didn’t sound enticing at the moment.

“I will tell you why you are here. None of my people knew until we met in the dream,” he said. “A slim majority agree on what must be done.”

“Hey, a majority is a majority. That’s how democracy works,” I said.

X-37 flashed a warning in my HUD. Apparently, I wasn’t as funny as I thought and my remarks were dangerous in this environment.

“You say things that make no sense even though I’ve walked your dreams,” Sangrel said. “I tolerate your foolishness because you are the most dangerous of your kind. I respect that. You must be the chief of all humans.”

“Not even close, Sangrel.” I choked back about seven jokes I could have launched from that platform. Two days of solid sleep made me spunky.

“Are you certain? Would not the deadliest hunter rule the pack?”

“First of all, I’m not. Thanks for the compliment, but other… pack leaders… cheat. Leadership is not just about brute force,” I said, just running my trap at this point.

“Ah. Your nightmares make more sense from that perspective.” He accepted a package brought to him by his children. His mate helped him slide a bundle of slim blades onto each arm.

I still didn’t understand how they worked. “Can you show me what those do?”

“No.”

“All right then. Are we going on a trip?”

“Yes. Prepare yourself.” He retracted his claws and smacked his kids around until they laughed and retreated. The attention he gave his mate was altogether different—mostly eye contact and purring.

“I’m ready,” I said.

“Are you talking to me, Reaper Cain? Sangrel is not listening.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” My new friend was full of surprises. How could I keep secrets when he’d been in my dreams?

Sangrel strode toward a trial. “The journey is not long, but we should go, Reap.”

“Reaper,” I corrected as I fell in stride with the taller creature.

“That is what I said.” He selected a narrow, nearly overgrown trail. Thick spider webs crossed our path. Columns of ants flowed up and around trees. Eyes peered from the shadows of branches even in the day. I could barely see the sky.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I have something to give you.” He hopped over a log, shuffled down a steep section, and jumped a stream. I followed. We weren’t running, but the pace was brisk.

“What do you do when ships come?”

He looked back, then answered after returning his attention forward. “The forest is vast. We strive to avoid visitors. No one has found our village for a long time. That is best.”

I still had questions but decided to watch, listen, and think about what he had already told me. The planet was overwhelming. On day one, I’d thought it paradise—a place I could retire and live in peace. After almost two days of the best sleep I’d ever had, my opinion changed.

Sangrel’s planet was paradise, but not for me. I knew the creature I’d met while escaping Jag’s commandos was called Yesiniatel and that she’d likely been taken from this world against her will. Huhl was Sangrel’s brother and had suffered a similar fate. They didn’t get along.

What did that tell me about this star system and the slip tunnel that led here? Could I use the knowledge to defeat Drakainis and Scheid? Sangrel wasn’t talkative, and half of what he shared was useless. Patience slipped away the longer we trudged through the dense forest.

“Are you getting anything useful, X?” I asked when Sangrel was a good distance ahead of me.

“That depends on your definition. I am logging a large body of data on this planet. Nothing is jumping out as useful in our fight against the Darkness,” X-37 said. “Pick up the pace, or your guide will leave you. Finding our way back to the ship will be a challenge.”

“Great.” I ran to catch up.

Sangrel looked my way several times, his blue eyes intense, his hair and horns creating a wild profile. The occasional sight of his sharp teeth didn’t improve my mood.

We entered a valley covered with morning mist and picked up the pace. Birds squawked. Others sang. Sangrel alternated the pace according to the terrain. Streams crisscrossed our route. The bubbling water added to the soothing sounds of nature coming alive. By the time the sun cleared away the mist, we had reached a higher valley with waterfalls on three sides.

Sangrel led me across rocks in a lake mildly disturbed this far from the source. He put down his pack and his weapons the moment we reached a lichen-covered island of granite. I did the same, not bothering to tell him I was always armed. He probably knew.

What came next surprised me. The interior of the island was a forest of totem poles—tall, narrow, and intricately carved. A medallion of polished stone hung on each.

“Touch nothing. Speak as little as possible,” Sangrel said, or that’s what I heard.

“This is a sacred place, Reaper Cain. Primitive cultures put great value in this type of symbolism,” X-37 said.

“Maybe there is something to it. Could be a special case. We are dealing with dream walkers,” I pointed out.

“Insufficient data,” X said.

“Whatever. Just watch for anything I miss.” I joined Sangrel at the center of the island and sat on the damp ground.

“Are you well, Halek Cain Reap?”

“Sure, Sangrel.” I gave him a double thumbs-up.

“The mist will come again. Move not at all. Do not speak.” This time, Sangrel spoke each word aloud, clearly enunciating each phrase.

I fell into a breathing pattern Path had taught me—in through the nose, hold, and slowly release. Silver mist drifted through the valley, filling the low areas first. Before long, my guide was little more than a silhouette.

Small, disturbingly fluid shapes moved between us. I felt they were looking at me but couldn’t see eyes that might cause the sensation of being watched. Nerves weren’t my thing, until now. I didn’t want to be here. What the hell was I doing?

“Relax, Reaper Cain. Do not reply. Sangrel warned you not to speak, and for the moment, that is good advice,” X-37 said. “I am gathering a large body of useful data. Your voice could pollute my readings.”

The mist creatures paused long enough to stare, then scurried away. Minutes grew longer. Groups of the unseen visitors gathered in a circle, seemingly watching me without eyes. Reapers didn’t freak out. I was about to break that rule. Hand signals to X went unanswered. My heart pounded.

Sangrel stood, his massive white lion head, sweeping horns, and broad shoulders distinct in the confusion. The smaller shapes abandoned their siege of my position and swarmed up his body. He allowed them to perch where they could, though I heard him growl a warning.

“What are these things?”

“Do not speak!” Sangrel barked.

One of the small creatures turned to look at me, and this time I saw burning red eyes that rotated in opposite directions, reminding me of James Henshaw and his cybernetics. We locked gazes. I felt the challenge. The urge to free my Reaper blade and shield was almost irresistible.

Sangrel clapped his hands once. The booming noise sent a ripple through the concealing mist. Creatures scurried away before I could see them in detail.

But I saw enough.

Drones.

“Godsdammit, X. I thought we’d found the one place in this sector not infested with AI malevolence.”

“No comment, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “But at least they don’t fly or explode.

I stood as the strange swarm retreated below the water, leaving the island to Sangrel and the last Reaper. Ripples sped away, then vanished as whatever created them descended into the depths.

“What the hell was that, Sangrel?” I snapped out my blade and strode toward the water’s edge.

“Wait. You must take this with you.” Sangrel pulled an object from the island’s center totem. He stretched his hand forward and opened his fingers. In his palm was a medallion covered with glowing lines and symbols. “This device is more ancient than the memory of my people. The helpers brought it from deep below but almost took it with them. Your speech startled them.”

“Well the feeling is mutual.” I wanted to take the disc but hesitated.

“The little ones are the reason ships and machines and other forms of technology cannot exist on my world. When you slept, it was a test,” Sangrel said. “They did not come for you as they did the others. So I brought you here in hopes they approved of your existence.”

“What happened to the others?” I asked.

Sangrel shrugged. “Gone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, but I’m not the most approved person,” I said. “They probably have the wrong guy.”

“The talisman is yours to carry. Keep it secret. Perhaps it will protect you against Drakainis. She cannot come here, and neither can her children.”

“Really? That’s great news. We could work together, build a base for the Maglan fleet,” I said.

“No.”

“Think about it, Sangrel. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. From the looks of it, you’ve got a lot of scratchable territory up there,” I said.

“Reaper Cain, please stop talking,” X said.

“Relax, X. I’ve got this. We’re winning.” I flipped the disc and caught it before continuing. “What do you say, Sangrel old buddy? How about an alliance?”

His open palm knocked me into the middle of next week, or at least onto my back. I shook stars from my vision. “I take that as a no.”

“I did not want to call you at all,” he said. “The helpers came. Told us you were needed. I listened to them because of the dream. Now I am not sure that was the correct course of action.”

I slipped the medallion into a pocket under my hard skin. “I got carried away. You understand?”

“I do. I dreamed.” He narrowed his gaze and showed teeth. “That is why I want none of your world here. Use the talisman if you can.”

“I feel like a jerk. Got carried away.”

“You did, Reaper Cain.”

“Don’t need your help, X.” Images of Sangrel and his family, Yesiniatel’s cubs, and even the old Huhl reminded me that this wasn’t just about me, or even my friends. “Can I do something to repay your hospitality?”

“There was no hospitality. I waited to see if you would live, then brought you to the mist island,” he said. Doubt transformed his expression. He grunted something in a language I didn’t know, then towered over me. “You may return lost ones to their home. If you find Yesiniatel or Huhl, and they wish to end their exile, you may bring them to my village.”

“I can do that, Sangrel.”

He pointed in the direction of my ship. “Go then. Come back when you are no longer hunted by the Darkness.”

“Thanks,” I said, though I didn’t think he was paying attention.

Sangrel headed toward the other side of the island, then stopped. When he looked back, I witnessed a different, far colder expression. “Reap.”

“Yeah?”

“When you find those who took Huhl and the others to the hunting place, you may kill them,” he said.

“I’ll put them on my list.”

He slipped into the water and swam out of my life. “Pretty good sidestroke for a cat-monster.”

“You don’t even know what a cat is, Reaper Cain.”

“I know there is something dangerous lurking under the surface of Sangrel’s sacred pond. Red-eyed drones. Still processing that development,” I said.

“Do not presume to know the purpose of the helpers. I see no evidence they are affiliated with Drakainis. Perhaps they have a symbiotic relationship with Sangrel’s people.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But I don’t know that either side understands the rules.”

X-37 pondered my hypothesis. “Excellent point, Reaper Cain. I don’t believe these drones are associated with Drakainis. From what little I can scan, conservation of this world and its natural order seem to be their highest priority.”

“Great, as long as they don’t lump us in with anyone intent on running this world,” I said.

The stone amulet felt reassuringly heavy in my palm. Looks could be deceiving, I thought. If I were a betting man, I’d guess there was some kind of technology inside this thing—probably crafted by the red-eyed drones Sangrel liked so much.

30

The Void Cat practically flew itself once I broke free of the gravity well. Sangrel’s planet fell behind. Hands resting lightly on the controls, I didn’t look back. The Sangrel’s medallion hung beneath my Sethorn armor. X-37 streamed data to the Jellybird and Maglan’s Hope before I could land. AIs and LAIs like to gossip, apparently.

“You are quiet today, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Mind your own business.”

“Touchy.” X-37 minded his own business for several seconds. “Are you thinking about the talisman?”

“Sure. I guess.”

“Vagueness and irritability detected,” X said.

“I thought Sangrel’s world would give me closure.”

“On what, Reaper Cain?”

“Yesiniatel and her cubs. Why can’t I stop dreaming about the forest? It’s just a dream, and even if it wasn’t, why do I worry about her and the cubs?”

“Those are excellent questions,” X-37 said.

“Condescend much?”

“Illogical. I run analysis based on fact and make recommendations most likely to keep you alive.” My LAI almost sounded put out. “As for the talisman, I cannot see beyond its basic form.”

“You can’t hack it?” This got my attention. My LAI rarely failed to worm his way into an electronic device.

“Correct. The operating system of this thing, if there is one, is invisible—like a hole in the universe from my perspective. One hopes that Drakainis and other hostile devices also lack the ability to manipulate what they can’t see,” X-37 said.

“We can use this like a stealth cloak against Drakainis and her drones,” I said.

“I don’t see how, Reaper Cain.”

“You just told me how.” Sometimes X lacked creativity.

“Okay, hide from me,” X said.

“That’s bullshit. You’re in my nerve-ware.”

X beeped a tone I had come to think of as a sigh. “Fine. Hide from Jelly and the other ship AIs.”

I pulled the talisman out and looked at it, feeling stupid. The script meant nothing to me, and there were no buttons or other interface options. “Hide us from the Jellybird’s AI.”

Nothing happened. Predictable.

“I’m underwhelmed, Reaper Cain.”

“Research alien devices and ways to use them. Let me know when you find something useful.” I landed in Bay 4C of Maglan’s Hope.

“Welcome aboard, Commander Cain,” Hope said. “Refueling crews will take charge of the Void Cat. Would you like a shuttle back to the Jellybird, or an escort to General Hastings?”

“Where is she?” I asked, climbing out of the void fighter.

“General Elise is on the bridge,” Hope answered. “She regrets not meeting you here and sends an invitation to dinner in the officer’s galley.”

“Sounds fantastic. I’ve been eating ration bars for three days.”

Hope sent a menu to my HUD via X-37.

I skimmed over the available food items as I trudged through Maglan’s Hope. Normally I just picked whatever looked good, stacking my plate ridiculously high by the end of the buffet line. The flagship felt enormous after so much time on the Jellybird. Soldiers, crew, and pilots saluted. I returned the gesture, wondering what I had to do for a little anonymity. Surely they didn’t want to walk around saluting Reapers. Elise gave me a rank, mostly to keep things simple during battle. She hadn’t meant for people to remember.

The line was long. I stared at banks of food—entrees, produce, desserts, more desserts. Maglan cooks knew how to keep morale up despite inconsistent supply. Men and women joked and told stories as they inched forward. Some of the servers had more personality than others. One might slam a scoop on a tray and grumpily urge the queue forward, while the next wanted to share everything about his personal life and shower you with compliments.

A young, clean shaven ensign intercepted me before I had accepted a single scoop of chow. “Sir, this is the wrong line.”

I faced him, staring down in mild surprise. What was this kid, fourteen? “I’m pretty hungry.”

“Of course, sir. But your presence is required in the captain’s galley. General Elise sent me to fetch you,” he said. “There must have been a miscommunication.”

“My mistake.”

“Understandable, sir. It’s right next door. I’ll show you the way.” He took my empty tray and slid it into the collection point on the way out of the room.

“Please pay better attention, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately. “You have no excuses for this degree of mental laxity. Low stress environments should allow greater mental focus. You are well rested, and the instructions were simple.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, then saw the uncomfortable look on the ensign’s face. “Not you. Talking to my LAI.”

“Understood. I’ve heard they are quite troublesome.”

X-37 fired off a rejoinder, but I muted his public access. The kid didn’t deserve that abuse.

“You heard right. Thanks, Ensign… Gilmore.” I expected the captain’s galley to contain the captain and his staff in addition to Elise, but the room, and the table, were nearly empty. Elise, Henshaw, and two of her personal staff officers were well into the first course.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. “X told me to go to the crew’s galley.”

“I most certainly did not!” X complained.

“Have a seat, Reaper. Your food is getting cold. Tell us about the planet,” Elise said.

I gave them a rundown of my adventure. Elise updated me on the efforts made to purge the system of suicide drones. A few dozen had come through the last slip tunnel, but it would only take one returning with confirmation of our presence to cause real problems.

“I might have found another piece of technology to use against Drakainis.” I drank a tall glass of orange juice to stall for time. Summing up my vacation was harder than expected.

“Have X send Hope and my science team the details,” Elise said.

“That’ll be a problem. X can’t see inside the device, or gather data about how it works. From what he tells me, that’s a good thing and a bad thing.” I put down my glass and pushed my plate away to avoid temptation. There would be time to eat when the kid’s questions had been answered. “The talisman works against AIs. Which is good, right? Problem is, I don’t know how to activate it or what it is supposed to do.”

“I’ll help with that,” Henshaw said. “We’ll run tests the old-fashioned way. Check one hypothesis at a time. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you already attempted a few experiments of your own.”

“This will be very embarrassing for you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I, uh, told it to hide me from the Jellybird.”

Elise leaned forward, a roll in one hand. “Well, what happened?”

“Nothing.” I went to work on my meal. Screw this feeling stupid stuff.

Elise held back a laugh, sensing my mood, apparently.

“That doesn’t rule out voice commands,” Henshaw said, unfazed by my failure and not interested in poking fun. “I’ll bring a team to the Jellybird, assuming that is where you want to work.”

“Sure. Sounds great.” The rolls were fantastic, especially with gravy. I thought the main entree was chicken parmesan. On a ship where most food was synthesized from base nutrients, it was best not to ask a lot of questions.

“Work fast,” Elise said. “We need to deal with Roos Starfall and go after Drakainis before Scheid shows up with her suicide drones.”

“Or attacks one of our allied systems, like Sethorn,” one of her staff officers said.

“Or that.”

* * *

Elise and her staff made preparations to leave Sangrel’s system and locate Roos Starfall. The man wouldn’t be easy to find but she assured me she had good people in the field, a robust intelligence network worthy of the Reaper Corps in its prime without the murder and terrorizing.

I couldn’t stop thinking of Yesiniatel, her cubs, or Huhl. The first three were too far away to visit. Maglan was not only far away, but out of reach for political and practical reasons. Elise wasn’t taking the Maglan fleet back until it could be home again. Reserve 13 was part of the local slip tunnel nexus, well within reach if I could fabricate a reason to go there.

But why would I? Offering the Sangrels there passage to their home world was as impossible as retiring on Maglan.

Someday…

“General Hastings is hailing you via ship comms,” X-37 said.

I touched the booster I wore behind one ear when I could. It helped X-37 interface with ship comms and added a layer of security against Darkness AI attacks. “What’s up, kid?”

“Not much, Reaper. I’m sending you back to the Zakion system. My advisors believe that is the best place to find Roos. Only stealth ships this time. Captain Younger has volunteered the Bright Lance of Xad. I’m also sending Henshaw and the Lady Faith II. I want answers; how can we use this new artifact and can we rely on Tank’s secret.”

“I’ll talk to the big guy and hash things out,” I said.

“Captains Zastrow, Kirby, and Lodhi all volunteered to stay with you as well, but I need them for other missions,” Elise said. “In a perfect world, I’d go with you.”

“You’re the big boss. Make it happen.”

“Not this time. Stay safe, Reaper.”

“You too, kid.”

* * *

Roos Starfall found us not long after we returned to the Zakion system—more or less.

Tank jerked his eyes to the recorded message in the holo viewer, interrupting our discussion. Roos stood impatiently, occasionally checking a time band on his wrist computer. He reminded me of a man waiting on a subway platform.

“Is he going to say something?” Tank asked.

“It’s a message, probably coded to Bug or Rizz. He implanted them with cybernetics. I should have anticipated a tracking mechanism,” I said. “That wouldn’t do any good through a slip tunnel, but the moment we enter the range of his ship… well, here we are.”

“You talk to it,” Tank said. “I don’t do recordings.”

“He definitely made up that rule,” X-37 said.

I activated comms. “What’s shaking, Roos?”

The image put on a surprised, and irritated, expression. “There you are, Halek Cain. I have encrypted coordinates you must follow precisely. Your LAI should be able to unpack the details. Your friend Bug contains the key if it is too much for X-37. Do not let anyone, or anything, follow you.”

The image disappeared.

“Rude,” I said.

Tank snort-grunted.

“X?” I asked.

“Working on it now. Ah, that was simple. The only reason Drakainis hasn’t obtained Roos Starfall’s location is because she wasn’t looking for this device. My recommendation is to destroy the slip tunnel marker before we leave. It’s not a real marker, if you’re worried about that.”

“Jelly, can you securely relay our new destination to Lady and Mavis?” I asked.

“Of course, Captain. Would you also like me to set a course?”

“You’re the best, Jelly. Tank and I were in the middle of something.” I cleared my head, not glad to be back in the Zakion system and not excited about confronting my clone brother. Path and Bug were waiting in the hall in case things got out of control.

No one agreed on how to handle the situation. X-37 in particular thought my approach reckless and irresponsible. Everything hung in the balance. Sending Tank into a violent rage and fighting him to the death would mean the end of our chance to stop Drakainis.

“You’ve got that look again, Bio,” Tank said.

I leaned forward in my chair, touching my fingertips as I composed my thoughts. “A lot of people think you're just a brute.”

He scowled.

“A petty criminal who only thinks about himself,” I continued.

“I don’t need this abuse. What the hell are you about? Get to the point or get out of my face.” He stood and towered over me but also half turned toward the door.

“Scheid jacked with your nerve-ware—crammed it with hidden code. You’re nothing but a bullet with my name on it.” I should be standing. If his destroy Reaper mode activated, I’d be at a disadvantage.

The man stared for a long time. His expression was hard to read, but I could see his pulse hammering in his neck. Anger caused his hands to twitch. I’d never seen a man closer to exploding. Murderous rage lurked behind his eyes.

“I’ll kill him and everyone who helped him do this to me,” he said.

Standing, I bladed my body slightly in case he attacked. My expression, however, was another matter. Holding eye contact, keeping my face neutral, I let his emotional shitshow play out. Who was I to judge?

He clenched and unclenched his fists, muttered curses under his breath, and finally reengaged. “Why are you telling me this? I know you’re telling the truth, you void fraking asshole. Don’t ask me how, but I can feel it.”

“X-37 and Jelly think your nerve-ware has special resistance against AIs and LAIs. A lot of people have come after me. None of them were able to get past X.” That was an exaggeration, but why not throw my LAI some credit?

He worked through the problem, not taking long to realize where this was going. “You think I can fight Drakainis because she’s an AI.”

“I think you can help. Bug and Rizz are part of it as well. Roos has them shielded, maybe with enough power to hide a small team. And I have this.” I held up the Sangrel talisman.

“What the fuck is that?” Tank demanded.

“No idea, but others like it keep Drakainis off Sangrel’s world. “

31

“Tank stays with me. Novasdaughter flies the ship. Tom stays here as well. Carnax, Path, Bug, and Rizz will form a quick reaction force to handle whatever comes next,” I said. Getting here hadn’t been complicated. That didn’t mean the coordinates Roos sent were to a safe region of space. “The QRF should be ready to rescue us or defend the Jellybird.”

Tom made distracted doodles on his work screen. I caught him checking our coordinates again and again despite my tactical briefing. Traveling out of a heliosphere wasn’t impossible. A lot of slip tunnels began at the edge of interstellar space. This time we were way beyond the norm.

“How’s Jelly doing on fuel, Tom?” I asked, knowing his thoughts.

“We can get back if we turn around in a few hours. After that?” He waved at the void beyond the view screens and walls. “Home sweet home.”

“Should I crack a joke, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked. “Making light of a slow agonizing death could have benefits, though it would not provide relief from starvation and insanity.”

“Maybe next time, X.” I ran through the plan in my head and decided my friends would throw things at me and curse if I started over again. At the end of the day, it was simple. Contact Roos. Broker a deal beneficial to the Maglan armada and her allies, and then find a slip tunnel not guarded by suicide drones or enemy warships.

“We are approaching the Endless Domination,” Jelly advised. “She has one supporting battle cruiser that is roughly equal in power and range to the Bright Lance of Xad, though not a carrier.”

“Or a stealth vessel,” Novasdaughter added.

“Exactly,” I said, hoping to improve morale. One thing our enemies didn’t have, yet, was stealth capabilities. We needed every advantage that might counteract their vastly superior numbers.

“Advise Captain Young that we’re proceeding with the rendezvous,” I said.

Carnax, Path, Bug, and Rizz manned the guns. Each wore full combat gear in case they needed to switch roles and defend against boarders. Novasdaughter and Tom took the bridge. Tank and I headed to the airlock.

“I gotta tell you, Bio,” Tank said, “I hate leaving the ship,”

“At least it isn’t a spacewalk.” I checked my Archangel gear, satisfied it was synchronized with my hard skin. Each time I put it on, the calibration improved. Small things got fixed, like how to position tools and weapons beneath it. Accessing pockets through hard skin could be a chore, but I was getting better, even with sleight of hand.

Preparation and practice bored me, despite having Elise to spar with—verbally and physically. But the last few days had made all the difference. If we were going to take down the evil AI scourge threatening the galaxy, taking the time to get everything working was a nice change in our MO. I even had the stealth cloak and my Reaper mask in side-by-side storage slots. Happiness was well functioning armor and lots of tactical toys. You never knew when sneaking through an enemy ship might prove useful.

Tank’s modified Defender armor was the epitome of shock and awe. Already a big man, he was a giant in this setup. Thicker armor, bigger weapons, and more attitude. If my clone brother couldn’t intimidate Roos—just a little—who could?

No one.

“We’re connecting to the Endless Domination,” Novasdaughter said. “Tom and I will handle mundane comms while she stays alert for AI attacks.”

“Roos doesn’t have suicide drones or a ship AI worth the name,” I said.

“He could have a cyborg shield against AIs,” Novasdaughter said, because she was a difficult human being.

We had been over this possibility numerous times. Tom, Novasdaughter, and Jelly were more worried about it than I was. X-37 abstained from the debate. The dirty traitor.

“You’re not wrong. Keep in mind that you have big shoes to fill. Jelly is always fast when trouble starts,” I said. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

“She says she will monitor your progress and be ready to jump in if needed,” Novasdaughter said. “Relax, Reaper. If this is the hardest thing we do, we’re golden.”

“You’ve got that right.” I stepped into the airlock. Tank followed and closed the inner door. The Endless Domination admitted us to the connection tube immediately.

“Let’s get this over with,” Tank said, then led the way.

I followed but slid to his flank once the access way was wide enough. The door to Roos’s ship looked impregnable, and probably was with the weapons we were carrying. It was the exterior of a starship, after all.

The panel opened like a camera lens as we approached. Tank and I exchanged glances but said nothing. Nor did we stop.

The door twisted shut behind us. I locked my feet to the deck to double-check the gravity of this ship.

“You are physiologically incapable of sensing the difference, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “That is one of the reasons you have me.”

“No guards,” Tank said, sweeping his chain gun around the room like he expected charging Starfalls. LAI banter wasn’t something he did. If I allowed him to hear our ritualistic taunts, he wouldn’t care.

“Roos can eject us from the ship with the press of a button,” I said. “Dirty trick but predictable.”

“Good thing we fell for it,” Tank muttered.

“He won’t blast us into the void. He needs our help.” I left out the other half of the truth—that we needed his even more than he needed ours. Roos didn’t have anyone he was protecting. There was no one he cared about to suffer the consequences of failure. No one I’d heard about. Not that I had done research in that direction.

Whatever.

The next door opened. A female voice spoke. “Welcome to the Endless Domination.”

“That should sound like more fun than it does,” Tank said.

“Roos Starfall is the lord of this vessel and master of our destiny. He has granted you one hour of amnesty. At the end of this period, you must leave the ship or suffer the consequences for crimes against the Sovereignty of Oroth and her allies,” the voice said.

“We won’t be here that long,” I said. “Are you the ship AI?”

“Artificial intelligence is not allowed here,” she said. “My name is Amanda. Your ship should not underestimate me.”

I spread both hands to emphasize my innocence. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

X-37 went into defensive mode just in case.

“Your ship is called Jelly,” Amanda said.” She has mapped my circuitry and copied my schematics. Please tell her that I am quite well maintained and need no assistance.”

“I think she took Jelly’s offer of liberation from Roos the wrong way,” X-37 said. “Additionally, Amanda is not as clever as she believes.”

“Does she know you’re here, X?” I hand signaled.

“No. Please keep that between us.”

Another door opened. Lights pointed the way we should go. I led. Tank followed, his gun lowered but still in his hands.

Roos and four of his Starfall clones waited for us in a conference room with maps, computer stations, and a coffee bar—that was closed down. Each soldier bore a letter and number on his chest plate: RS1, RS2, RS3, and RS4.

Super original. Not creepy or egotistical at all. Roos hadn’t bothered to name his creations, just slapped numbers on them.

“You came,” Roos said.

“Yeah.” I could have elaborated, but I wanted to set him off-balance. The man wasn’t used to Reaper disrespect.

My eyes swept the room. A cigar box and an empty liquor bottle rested on a map table. I unlatched the box to X-37’s insistent protests.

“Gotta check, X.” I signaled covertly.

“You need help, Reaper Cain. The fate of humanity relies on your self-control, and you’re trying to steal cigars. How good can they be? Cigars are alien concepts to everyone we’ve met in this region.”

“They’re just cigars. Could be a peace offering,” I said inside my helmet. “Don’t want to get off on the wrong foot.”

I popped the lid.

Empty.

“Rude,” I said.

“Focus, Bio.” Tank’s stance was way too tense. The guy was ready to blow everything to hell.

“We have passed the first obstacle. Trust me,” I answered via helmet comms. “Good job looking like a trigger-happy rookie.”

“Piss off, Bio.”

This wasn’t Tank’s wheelhouse. He was a hell of a fighter and a master of petty scams. Facing top tier psychopaths was new to him. I should have factored in his inexperience. Too late now. I’d have to adjust.

“Tell your clone to put away the chain gun,” Roos interrupted.

“I don’t trust you, Roos. We’re here to make a deal—one that has to be completed in fifty-three minutes, according to Amanda,” I said. “Tank didn’t want to come, but I promised he could shoot someone.”

Cold disdain filled Roos’s eyes. “See that he doesn’t.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.” Then, because I knew he expected impatient demands and a lot of attitude, I stared at him, fully content to wait until every slip tunnel in the galaxy collapsed and we turned to dust.

He shifted his weight, attempting to play my own game but lacking the endurance. Once he relented, I knew I had the man on the ropes.

Outwardly, I was a rock. Inwardly, I was smoking a cigar and reading a good book. There was no way I’d lose this standoff.

“I won’t waste time.” He clipped his words short, frustration showing through his artificially calm exterior. “Your disappearance wasn’t appreciated. Nor was it productive. You still don’t have a Shae contingent to act as shields. What part of my demands did you not understand?”

“A legion is too many Shae,” I argued, still not giving a fraking fleck of void dust for his demands. “You know better than I do how hard it will be to even talk to Shae leadership. Last I checked, they were making peace with the Camis Triumvirate, which puts them smack in the middle of Scheid’s main fleet. Wherever that is.”

“The Camis have not abandoned their Dark Triumvirate. The Shae still have their version, the Triumvirate you meddled with on the planet. But we need neither.” He activated a screen showing a recording of the Camis Shae world. Debris floated away from several battle zones. Some plummeted into the atmosphere, burning all the way to the glowing surface. Not all the images were destroyed ships.

“Even if those are Shae vessels, they won’t have thousands of people on them,” I said. “Your plan better work with less. Bug and Rizz have the shielding. I can go in with a small team.”

“Do you imagine I haven’t considered that option?” Roos asked, then held up a hand to cut off my interruption. “A legion would have guaranteed total victory, against Drakainis, Scheid, and the Oroth factions waiting to pick off the survivors. And by that, I mean you and the Maglan fleet, if you were wondering.”

“Smaller is better,” I said. “You heard me the first time.”

“Perhaps.” He pulled up a map of the planet. Icons showed places he believed were weak spots in the dark AI’s defenses. “Time will tell. You will need more than Bug and Rizz to create a large enough field to remain hidden while on the move. Four of the Shae could get you to the lair of Drakainis. Ten would provide a more comfortable safety margin. This ship”—he aimed a laser pointer at the main screen—“should have combat ready Shae volunteers adequate to your needs.”

“You talked to them?” Tank asked. “Because that is how volunteering works.”

X-37 beeped twice to get my attention when normally he just started talking. “Jelly and I have completed all possible scans and have found no reason for Roos to insist this meeting be face-to-face. Please be alert to a double-cross or surprise attack.”

Realization hit me. I knew exactly what Roos wanted and why. He needed assurances that we would follow through and not turn against him if the Shae cyborgs were more powerful than he anticipated. The man knew I never followed orders and wanted better control of the mission.

“He’s sending a team with us, probably these four Starfall clone winners,” I signaled, then addressed my host. “Roos, there’s a problem.”

He saw that I had figured out his demands, which was a mark in my favor. “You know I must include my people on your strike force.” His posture changed from that of annoyance to grudging respect. “And you understand why.”

I waved away his statement. “The Shae won’t volunteer. More importantly, I won’t make them. Cybernetics are serious business. Wouldn’t wish that hell on my worst enemy.”

“Truly?” Roos asked.

“Well, maybe on you,” I said.

He abandoned the verbal sparring, a good choice if I was being honest. Most people were easy to draw in and pummel with sharp words. “I will come myself,” he said. “I can be persuasive.”

Tank cursed until I wanted to mute his external helmet speaker.

“I was not expecting that, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Roos will be placing himself in a tactically disadvantaged position while among your friends.”

“But will he really, X? Find out as much as you can about his four bodyguards. The guy has stayed several steps ahead of Scheid, and that’s a big deal. I doubt his boss is big on forgiving treachery.” I pretended to read the maps, stalling for time. Nonverbal comms with X-37 was slower than plain talk. That was why I used the latter whenever I could.

“You cannot deny this is a safe compromise,” Roos finally said. “Be warned, I am no fool and will not be betrayed. Enter this compact in good faith or find a slip tunnel back to Union space. If you can.”

“This guy really did his research,” I said.

“He doesn’t know shine about the Union or what it means to be an outlaw there,” Tank said.

“You only know what Scheid taught you.” Roos motioned toward the passage we had come through. “My team is ready. Unlike some people in this room, I know the value of taking action.”

“Cool your thrusters, Roos,” I said. “We haven’t agreed to anything.” I looked at Tank for his contribution and got nothing. X-37 was unusually silent. This decision was on me. “Fine. Let’s go. Don’t make me kill you.”

“I could give the same warning,” Roos said.

“Sure, but you’re not a Reaper. Don’t play stupid games. Unless you want stupid prizes.”

* * *

Sleep didn't come so easily now. How could I relax with Roos and his four silent clones crammed into the room next to me? The Jellybird wasn’t a large ship. Our guests hadn’t hesitated to sleep five to a room. I joked that RS1-RS4 would have to sleep standing up, and they agreed with straight faces.

Freaks.

My cabin was familiar. The comfort of my best cigars, as few and far between as they were these days, and decent whiskey helped me relax. None of that compared to the peace and solitude of Sangrel’s world.

Someday I was going back there, one way or another. Without a psychopathic mad scientist ally. The last person I would share Sagnrel’s world with was a Starfall.

The mystery of the talisman eluded me, but I had bigger problems, namely, how to control Roos and how to recruit Shae volunteers. Most of them were attached to Scheid's armada, negotiating with their Camis brethren. Roos’s plan was the only alternative, despite how much I didn’t want him to be right about anything.

Nothing was ever easy. Strangely, that was a comforting thought. Struggle and conflict was my norm. Maybe that was why I continuously ran toward danger. What a mess.

I stared at the ceiling, barely blinking, working through problems over and over again until sleep came. Several dreamless hours later, I awoke in the exact same position. My body ached from lack of movement. I shouldn't be this sore. Fully recovering from missions was something I needed to work on.

“X, can you give me updates on Scheid's fleet? How good is your military intel?”

“I received all updates available to the Jellybird,” X-37 said. “There are three possible locations for Scheid's main fleet: the Zakion system, the Sethorn system, or Glental that is said to have considerable resources we may all be fighting for if this war goes on for very long.”

I didn't like any of those options, but they were places to start. “What about the Shae and Camis ships?”

“They would most likely be in the Glental, for the sheer fact that it is currently the least militarily active region. Civilian vessels would be attached to support groups or otherwise partitioned from mission-critical activities,” X-37 said.

“Roos must have more information than he’s sharing,” I said. “Why else would he gamble that we would be able to pick up a Shae contingent en route to our objective? That’s not the way pros operate.”

“You hold him in high esteem,” X-37 observed.

“Let’s not get carried away. I respect him as a capable adversary. There is a lot more to him than meets the eye—which is the true mark of a dangerous man. Just when I think he has an ego to match Scheid or his brother Clakion, I realize it’s mostly an act.”

“My analysis points to a similar conclusion, Reaper Cain.” X-37 posted mundane updates in my HUD. “Your report has been encrypted and sent to General Hastings. Are you ready to begin your day?”

“Why not. Sleep is overrated.” I strapped on a sidearm and stepped out of my cabin. “Link me to whoever is on the bridge.”

“Of course,” X said.

“You’re up early, Hal,” Tom said.

“Any updates?” I asked.

“None. Have you decided on a slip tunnel sequence? Are we heading back to Camis Shae?” Tom never sounded judgmental, even when he was concerned.

“That’s what Roos wants. He claims we can find Shae volunteers in time to complete the mission to the planet,” I said.

“I’m not a cybernetics expert, but that doesn’t seem right,” Tom said.

“Agreed.” I headed for Roos’s cabin, determined to get straight answers and real information. The Sangrel talisman felt heavy where it hung under my shirt. I tucked it deeper. There was no reason to share it with my new ally.

32

Roos was waiting when I arrived. His goon squad stood along the back wall, facing the door, helmets under their left arms and right hands down at their side—near their sidearms but not gripping them. Buzz cuts and hard gazes reinforced the effect of their identical facial features.

“My men require exercise. Do you have a facility that can accommodate them?” Roos asked.

“Might be better to go in pairs due to space, but it’s that way. Two treadmills, strength training equipment, and a sparring mat,” I said.

Roos twirled a finger in the air. The squad leader nodded and led the way to the gym. Roos barely acknowledged that they had left. “Where can we talk? I’m weary of this room.”

I took him to the observation deck but didn’t open the liquor cabinet or the humidor. “It’s time to chart our slip tunnel route. Glental is the most likely location of the Shae attached to Scheid’s fleet.”

“Of course. Let me share everything.” Roos handed over a digital storage stick, barely larger than his thumb. “This should be compatible with your workstations. I don’t have an LAI to share data.”

I stared at the device, hoping X-37 could access it through the connectivity of my skin and visual scans of my cybernetic eye.

“I’ve got it, Reaper Cain. Pretend to insert it into the coffee maker or something. Best not to reveal too much of what I can do,” X-37 said.

“He knows more than we think,” I signaled, then complied by sticking the storage device into the back of my cigar humidor.

Roos’s eyes followed each move.

“Give me a second,” I said.

He waited, suspicious but hiding it well.

X-37 analyzed the data, then put notes in my HUD. “Evantros and his loyal followers are orbiting Camis Shae. He didn’t see eye to eye with the Dark Triumvirate. You were otherwise occupied when his followers separated from Scheid’s larger fleet.”

“Lucky for us,” I said. “Except for the part where we left on less-than-ideal terms. Getting them away from Scheid would have been the easy part. Convincing Evantros and his people to give me a second chance will be way harder.”

“I think he will help, especially if it has any chance of reclaiming the world his people lost to the dark AI,” X-37 said. “Roos is waiting on your response.”

I shifted toward the man. “You know about Evantros?”

“Of course. Your ability to interface with your LAI is impressive,” he said. “Scheid HC clones have simple versions of that technology. I wasn’t able to replicate it.”

“What about your brother, Clakion? Couldn’t he replicate nerve-ware,” I asked. X-37 warned me against baiting the man.

“I am the better scientist,” was all Roos said. “My sources say you worked with Evantros during the mission to free Drakainis.”

“That wasn’t what the mission was for,” I said. “It was an accident.”

“You didn’t know the true purpose. My sources say you are normally very difficult to trick. The humiliation must have been devastating. Your mistake doomed the galaxy. Unless I fix your blunder,” Roos said. “I contacted Evantros and his loyalists. They don’t trust me but are open to collaboration if I can produce you or General Hastings.”

I waited for more, not wanting to make a misstep. As usual, Roos knew too many details about my past. Creepy. What was this guy’s obsession with me?

“I lowballed them by bringing you instead.”

“Ouch,” I said. “Good one. But you weren’t there and don’t get it. Evantros doesn’t trust either of us.”

“Situations change. He is more desperate than you are.”

“Hey, you’re not bursting with options either,” I said. “Answer one more question. How long does it take to equip them with cybernetics? Even if they volunteer, the process is invasive. I saw what it did to Bug and Rizz.”

“I gave them the technology some time ago with the agreement they would wait for the rest of us,” Roos said.

“Interesting,” X-37 said. “That could change things. Roos seems to have planned this scheme well in advance.”

“Yeah, Evantros might have already dived beneath the lava sea to go it alone,” I said, meaning the comment for X but realizing too late I’d spoken aloud.

“If that is the case, then we will be forced to start at square one,” Roos said. “Time will be against us. Plans would need to account for an extensive preparation phase, a luxury we don’t have.”

I fired up a cigar. This deal sucked more and more. “You better hope that Evantros and his people liked the technology you left them. My bet is they jettisoned all of it into the void, and when we arrive, they won’t have a scrap of protective cybernetic gear among them.”

Roos’s visage darkened. “Should that be the case, Drakainis will destroy us all.”

I opened comms to Tom and Jelly without breaking eye contact with Roos. “Jelly, set a course for Camis Shae. Make sure we’re not detected.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said.

I signaled X to make sure Jelly and Tom knew I wanted the Bright Lance of Xad to shadow us.

* * *

“Slip tunnel exit complete, Captain,” Jelly said. “Running system scans.”

Sitting up abruptly, I magnified the holo view, not happy a Maglan ship was already in the system.

The Nightmare.

“X, why is Captain Zastrow here? I thought we put his ship AI in time out,” I said.

“Necron has realized he overstepped his authority when he organized the ship AIs against Drakainis drones,” X-37 said. “Please don’t jump to conclusions. There must be a reason the stealth carrier arrived first.”

“Hail the Nightmare.” I braced myself for a confrontation. Normally, I got along well with Zastrow.

Moments later, Captain Zastrow appeared on the holo viewer. “Nightmare Actual for Commander Cain, good to see you. We were getting worried. General Hastings instructed my crew to make best speed for Camis Shae, not expecting to actually beat you and your team.”

“It wasn’t a race,” I said, struggling to unravel this new wrinkle. “Please tell me she isn’t on your ship.”

“Not officially,” Zastrow said. “The moment our intelligence sources predicted you would be here, there was nothing I could do to stop her. She didn’t want to miss your last great mission. Her words, not mine.”

“Is she available for a chat?” I asked.

Zastrow shifted uncomfortably. “Yes and no.”

“No more games, Captain.” The man thought I didn’t see what was going on. Elise had put him up to something. She was not only in the system, but also intent on taking part in the final mission. Was I glad she’d have my back? Hell yeah. Was I frustrated she could put herself in danger and risk her credibility with the Maglan fleet? Of course.

General Icarus would use this against her. If she wasn’t careful, he’d be in charge by the time this was over.

“I’m waiting, Captain Zastrow.” My best no-nonsense tone barely moved him.

“General Elise ordered me to give you a detailed update on the fleet and how we came to arrive in secret. She particularly wishes for you to keep this information from General Icarus, as the man has been gathering growing support among other generals, ship captains, and civic leaders,” Zastrow said, then pulled up a detail travel log of slip tunnels, encounters with enemy forces in three different systems, and updates on the morale of the crew.

None of this was necessary. What Elise had really ordered Zastrow to do was stall and distract—which meant she was about to pull a fast one.

“Jelly, please direct Path and Tom to prepare a welcoming committee. We’re about to be boarded,” I said.

“Are you certain, Reaper Cain,” X-37 asked.

“That was also my question,” Jelly added. “My scans are showing nothing on the surface or in orbit of Camis Shae capable of attacking us in the void. Should I enter the atmosphere, that would be another story.”

“The kid is on her way,” I said. “Probably has something to prove—like I need her on this mission.”

“Oh, of course,” X-37 said. “My analysis shows you are very likely correct, Reaper Cain.”

“Running close range scans,” Jelly said. “Tom, Path, and Bug are deploying to the landing bay and airlock access. Tank is keeping an eye on Roos and his bodyguards.”

Zastrow droned on, really giving this presentation his all. I listened and grew more interested than normal, despite the fact I knew Elise had put him up to this farce.

“I’ve got her, Captain,” Jelly said. “General Hastings has modified three suits of Archangel armor with state-of-the-art stealth gear. I believe Sykes and Billiam are with her.”

“Lock that airlock,” I ordered.

“Done, Captain.”

“X, back her up. Make sure they can’t get in without knocking first.” Again, my feelings mixed. I couldn’t wait to see her and her reckless young Archangels. At the same time, the entire incident annoyed me. Did she really think she could sneak up on a Reaper?

I went to the airlock, waited for Jelly’s signal, then pressed the push-to-talk button. “Who’s there?”

No response.

“Come on, kid. I hear you knocking, but you can’t come in.”

“Not a kid.”

“Got ya,” I unlocked the exterior door and made sure the interior door was sealed.

“You have to admit, we nearly had the drop on you,” Elise said. “Why did you let us get so close?”

“I thought you would be doing important stuff, like leading the fleet. You sent me to handle this, remember?”

She concentrated on navigating the first phase of the airlock with Sykes and Billiam, checking their gear once they were inside, then pressurizing the small room. Only then did she answer. “You need our help, Reaper. And I need to do something before I start throat punching bureaucrats.”

The second door cycled open. I ambushed her with a big hug the moment she was through. In armor, we were similar sizes.

“Fill me in and let’s do this,” she said. “Drakainis and Scheid are gathering strength. If we can strike a fatal blow to either of them, now is the time.”

* * *

Elise and I flew toward Evantros’s ship while the rest of my crew went through final equipment checks. Tom and Carnax went over every inch of Bug and Rizz’s cybernetics with Roos, who was quietly helpful.

That came as a surprise. I didn’t trust the man, but he seemed proud of his work and eager to discuss it with the two people on my ship capable of grasping the intricacies of his work.

I still didn’t understand why neither Bug nor Rizz could use energy weapons or additional gear like night vision or boosted comms. X-37 assured me that would indeed interfere with the advanced features of the AI shielding.

Fine. Whatever. Bug and Rizz could use dumb weapons for self-defense—simple firearms and melee weapons. The rest of the team would watch out for them while they concealed our existence from Drakainis.

With the help of Evantros, we would have a real chance of taking out the dark AI once and for all.

Assuming he was ready and willing to help.

“Time to make contact.” I hailed the Shae vessel. With no exterior lights, it would be invisible without the advanced optics of our Archangel helmets, or lacking that, the new eye Henshaw had fitted me with.

“Halek Cain for Evantros, can you read me?” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You are broadcasting on our primary frequency.”

“Permission to come aboard?” Controlling my breathing, I braced myself for an argument that never came.

“Granted.”

Elise and I moved closer to a hatch as it opened.

“That’s it?” she asked. “Evantros was never much of a talker, but this seems like trouble.”

“He doesn’t seem happy,” I said, unable to put my finger on the negative vibe the Shae leader was putting out.

I glided inside the ship with Elise several meters behind me. X-37 ran scans of everything we saw. The Shae vessel was a simple vessel but well put together. There was no ornamentation or creature comforts. Evantros and his people had always focused on exploring into their planet. Little effort had been made to space exploration.

“X, can we open our helmets?” I checked the readings. “Looks good on my panel.”

“The atmosphere is stable, though quite hot. They may already be in preparation for a mission to the surface,” X-37 said. “My suggestion is to remain in your armor with your visor latched.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Elise said.

I moved deeper into the ship, looking for guards or other crew. A door opened. Lights illuminated the hallway.

“I guess that’s an invitation,” I said. “Stay sharp.”

Elise gave her classic grin through her clear visor. “Always, Reaper.”

Intuition was a powerful thing. I sensed danger but wasn’t sure it was directed at us. Evantros and his people had never been warlike. His fighters had looked more like post-apocalyptic survivors when we first met, dangerous to rival gangs but not to a pair of seasoned fighters in Archangel gear.

We reached the first room and entered. Stairs stretched down to the floor. Stadium seating circled the walls, providing three times the number of useable work terminals I had expected on a ship like this.

The ceiling was also higher than expected. Intense lights shone down, hiding most of what was above us while casting Evantros and a platoon of the strangest Shae I’d ever seen in harsh light.

“We were ready to go alone,” Evantros said without preamble. “As much as it pains me to admit it, you are the human we need to complete our last and greatest quest.”

Elise and I reached the floor of the room and spread out slightly.

Evantros’s cat-like features were armored in small discs of polished metal. He retained his graceful movements, though he was less animated than I remembered him.

“I never wished to become a… cyborg. Neither did my warriors,” he said.

I studied the others, who said nothing and barely moved.

“This is the sacrifice we must make to save the next one hundred generations of Camis Shae,” he said.

“Interesting,” X-37 said privately. “Some of his soldiers appear to be of the Camis sect. They are taller and more heavily built but equipped in the same protective alloys.”

I listened to my LAI but didn’t respond. Without Evantros and his shielded followers, we didn’t have a realistic chance of pulling this off. But the technology Roos gave them wasn’t the only reason they were important. Evantros knew the planet better than I ever could.

“Two of my people went through the same process,” I said, thinking of Bug and Rizz. My own cybernetics were much different. “Do you have weapons?”

“Only swords and hammers,” he said. “We have practiced much.”

“I wish we had time to test each other. My sword saint might have a few tips you could use,” I said.

“That will not be necessary,” he said. “Your ship will take us to what was Hilral’s Mountain. There will be a landing zone free of seismic activity. I have sent the coordinates to your ship in a format she understands.”

“I have it, Captain,” Jelly said. “Initial scans show a survivable landscape. There may be access to subterranean tunnels. I can only detect blast doors.”

“Let’s put together a plan and rehearse it,” I suggested.

Evantros crossed his arms. “There is little to plan. We will get you and your warriors close enough to engage the enemy. Then you will win or lose. Either way, I am ready to die with my people. None of us will survive.”

“I’ll survive,” I said. “And so will my friends.”

“Of course. But that is not our fate,” Evantros said.

“I don’t like how he said that,” Elise whispered via comms. “Fatalism is never good in these situations.”

I shrugged the comment off. “That’s the story of my life, and I’m still here.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“Let’s get moving. Evantros, are you ready to transfer to our ship?” I asked.

“We will use a boarding tube,” he said, and gave orders to his silent soldiers. Elise and I helped when and where we could but mostly watched the grim platoon of Camis Shae martyrs prepare to meet their destiny.

33

Jelly arced through thick clouds. Veins of molten rock spread across much of the planet—red and orange veins pulsing on the surface of the angry rock. There were dark sections I assumed were free of lava and eruptions. Could these zones be obscured by clouds of noxious gas hot enough to cook me in my armor?

Probably. I decided to think positive. Reality would rear its ugly head soon enough.

That didn’t mean there were a lot of hospitable landing zones. We followed Evantros’s recommendations to the letter.

Path, Tank, and Bug were on my team.

Elise had Carnax, Rizz, Sykes, and Billiam.

Roos and his clones made up team three and would stay with Evantros and his platoon of shield martyrs. Technically, we were all under their protection, but I wanted quick reaction teams led by me and Elise to handle unexpected SNAFUs. We might need the option to range out from under their protective umbrella.

Tom and Novasdaughter would stay with the ship for repairs and piloting when Jelly couldn’t manage on her own.

“We are less than ten minutes from landing,” Jelly advised.

“Get ready,” I announced. Each member of the team gave a thumbs-up.

Jelly flared her engines, slowed until she was hovering, then landed on an island of black rock. The ramp dropped. I led the way, with Path, Tank, and Bug.

We spread out to protect the ship from anything that might attack and waited until the rest of our strike force was deployed. Jelly lifted off and went into an orbit of our position seconds later.

“This way,” Evantros said, pointing toward a rocky outcropping on the north end of the island. Rivers of lava illuminated the landscape. Every direction was dominated by a sea of heat.

I peered through the shimmering waves, glad we wouldn’t be staying long.

Evantros pulled a wide, expanding panel from his back and tugged it overhead until he wore a poncho of digital plates over most of his body. His shield martyrs as they called themselves did the same. Our procession was like nothing I’d been a part of in my long career. The solemnity of their expressions and the apocalyptic environment gave the scene an end of the world feel.

“How are you doing, kid?” I asked Elise via direct comms.

“Good enough. I’ll be glad when we’re underground—I think,” she said. “It will be cooler down there, right?”

“Fingers crossed.” I held up my cybernetic hand to display the gesture.

We reached a ridge split by a ravine. Beyond was a sea of glowing lava. Downward was only darkness and bad footing. I couldn’t imagine walking that way without falling. Memories of the diggers that had taken us to free Drakainis weren’t welcome.

“Your heart rate is elevated, Reaper Cain.”

“If you had a heart, yours would be galloping.” I checked the position of each team member, then advanced toward the gap. “This is the way inside?”

“It must be,” Evantros said.

I didn’t like that answer.

Elise gave me a look. She wasn’t satisfied either.

“No guessing. We can’t afford to be wrong,” I said.

Evantros moved down the slope, losing his balance twice before reaching a level section. Tank and Bug started forward.

I held up one fist, signaling them to stop. “Give him a second.”

Elise shook her head slowly. “I don’t know, Reaper. It’s getting hot on this island. We could call for pickup and find a better landing zone.”

I waited, watched, and tried not to hold my breath. The enormity of our situation pressed down like the gravity of the world—super heated and extraordinarily heavy. X-37 could give me advice. He’d saved my ass lots of times. I respected Elise and knew she had been running the Maglan fleet for a decade while I slept. Path, Carnax, and even Roos might give me good advice. We were all part of the same effort now, allies after a common goal.

“I’m moving closer. Just me and Evantros until I give the signal. No need to lose the entire team.”

“Godsdammit, Reaper. I didn’t come all this way and risk my command to get left behind,” Elise said.

“The path is narrow. Once I see what we’re dealing with, I’ll call you and the others down.” I focused on Evantros, briefly marveling at how strange he was now compared to when we first met. Walls closed around me. Looking back and up, there was only a narrow red glow to show where I’d come from.

“The door is straight ahead. We’re very close,” Evantros said. “I feel no attacks from the dark computer mind of Drakainis.”

“Tell me what that means,” I said.

“She has not cast her attention to this part of the planet. Nothing has prompted her to search for us. We are successful thus far,” he said.

“Good.” I hailed Elise. “Send down my team single file. Don’t let them bunch up too much. Once we enter and secure the first room, you bring everyone else. Send Bug first. I’d like some extra shield power until the rest of the Shae arrive.”

“You got it, Reaper. Bug is leading the way,” she said.

I saw their shadows before I heard their careful footfalls. Tank came second. Path was last, frequently walking backward to watch behind us. We silently gathered to stare at the alien portal before us.

Cooled magma flow had crusted around the gate. Claws had tried to tear down the entrance. Slashes scarred the metal. Strange symbols covered the support beams but not the flat surface of the double door.

“We’re ready when you are, Reaper,” Elise said.

I nodded to Evantros. “Let’s get in there.”

He removed a large key from beneath his wire and alloy poncho, pressed it into a slot, and turned slowly.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“The mechanism is old. Weather and corrosion had their way with it long before recent events melted half the surface,” Evantros said.

“One of Scheid’s goons could toss a grenade down here and take us out,” Tank said.

“You’re wearing armor,” Bug said, not bothering to complain about his lack of heavy protection. His version of the poncho fit his form like armor but wouldn’t stop anything but digital probes.

“In a space this confined, I’m not sure that will help. Especially if a collapse buries us,” Tank said.

I leaned closer to Evantros. “Get it open or I’ll have Tank tear it apart.”

“That would be a crime against my people… if he could do it. Be patient. I am making it work,” he said.

A short time later that felt like a dozen lifetimes, he typed a code and pulled a lever. A ten-foot-thick blast door slid out of our way. Made of multiple layers, the barrier was too thick to be forced.

Things were much different on the inside. I didn’t see signs of lava flow or other damage. Hexagonal panels covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. The edges bore more of the language that X-37 couldn’t begin to decipher.

“This should serve as a reminder, Reaper Cain,” X said. “Drakainis is not just a powerful and malevolent AI, but one of alien design. The base programming arises from lines of code I do not understand.”

“Spread out. Secure this room,” I said, then called Elise as Tank and Path checked for unseen doors or side passages. Light quality was poor. My optics didn’t help much.

“The passage widens in the middle, then narrows in about one hundred meters,” Tank said. “I’m not sure if we’re in a room or a transfer station of some sort—a place for troops to pass each other on the way in and out at the same time.”

“Watch the hall. Path, back him up. Bug, Evantros, and I will wait for Elise and her squad. She’ll bring down the Shae platoon,” I said, only checking with Evantros after I spoke.

“This will serve our purpose. Soon, you will need the full protection of my people.”

Elise arrived in good order. Roos and his clones came with the Shae but confronted me at once.

“You are reckless, Cain,” he said. “Trust in the protection of the Shae shield martyrs while you can. When you realize you need their protective shadow, it will be too late.”

“He’s got a point,” Elise said.

“Everyone has a point. Doesn’t mean much unless it’s the right point. In a large room, we can move a large formation. In hallways, someone goes first,” I said.

“Proceed with caution or I will take command,” Roos said.

I gave him the look. “Try it.”

Unmoved, he returned to his men. They surrounded him like good bodyguards, moving only when he did. Some clones were more reliable, and loyal, than others, apparently.

The next hallway snaked deeper, but the temperature never changed. Gaps in the rock vented gasses X-37 assured me were toxic. Elise kept our line open so we could talk continuously if needed. We didn’t, but the option made me feel like we had each other’s backs.

Bug touched the walls frequently, seemingly lost in his thoughts. The kid had been through a lot. I didn’t know how to help him. When this was over, I’d get Henshaw to do everything he could to free him from the burden of being a shield cyborg.

The hallway sloped downward as it opened into a cavern the size of a river valley. I expected more lava or bubbling pools of poison. Clusters of pods stretched as far as I could see instead. “Hold on, everyone. The next room is full of pod things. I think we’re getting close.”

“Pod farms are never good,” Tank joked.

“Bug and I will take a closer look,” I said.

Roos keyed up his mic. “Bring at least a few of the Shae. I suspect this is where they will earn their keep.”

“What the hell do you know?” Tank asked.

“I have information you do not,” Roos said.

“Start sharing or you’re off the mission.” I beat Elise’s response by a second or less. She started to berate him but stopped. I heard enough of her response to guess her level of angry frustration.

“I’m going to punch his face,” she admitted on our private channel.

“Get in line,” I said.

“There is too much to discuss,” Roos answered, oblivious to our side chat. “We must trust each other.”

“Not something I do.” I hunkered down in the shadows of our tunnel. Nothing moved in the vast pod room. Tank, Bug, and Path joined me. Evantros and several of his Shae shield martyrs followed close behind. Roos and his clones pressed forward as well. When Elise arrived, everything changed.

“Those aren’t pods, those are parked drones,” she said.

“Asleep,” Roos corrected. “I knew there would be such a room but not how to find it or how large it would be.”

“How far across, X?” I asked.

Slowly pulsing lights marked a few of the sleeping drones like eyes of a drowsy monster. The red pinpricks illuminated randomly, some near and some on the other side of the cavern. That wasn’t the worst part.

Observing the obstacle in silence, I soon heard the lava sea far above. The ceiling didn’t look strong enough to hold back waves of molten death. As traps went, this was the least favorite I’d ever stepped into. The stink of sulfur and singed electronics wasn’t fantastic.

“More than a kilometer. You will be very exposed when you endeavor to cross,” X-37 said. “I calculate nearly ten thousand drones. Should they wake up…”

“Let’s make sure they don’t.” I did some math in my head before dividing up the Shae to augment our squads. “Will that work, Evantros.”

“Yes. I will stay with you,” he said.

“Good enough.” The first step was the hardest. I imagined every spider-bot drone leaping onto pincered feet and rushing us. On cue, one twitched the legs it had wrapped around its body. The glowing red eyes remained closed. I held my breath, then moved past it, signaling my squad to watch their step.

Ten minutes later, Bug bit back a curse and sank to one knee.

“Something happened,” he said between clenched teeth. “I think Drakainis is awake.”

“Elise, Roos—spread out so we can all cross at once. Get this over with,” I said, aiming a knife I had right, then left.

Roos scowled but complied, taking his clones and Shae guides far to the left, almost out of view in the gloom. Suddenly, the ceiling felt too low, and I doubted there was enough air to keep everyone alive.

“You can’t make some people happy,” Elise said. “Roos better live up to his end of the bargain.”

“He will, or he’ll get Reaped,” I said, but thought about Roos’s long-term goal. The man wanted a Shae legion to use against Scheid. Colder and more calculating than his brother, or even Scheid, Roos Starfall was bound to be a serious problem. He wouldn’t stop short of galactic domination.

Why did that worry me less than Drakainis?

A pained cry from Elise’s direction grabbed my attention.

“Hold!” Elise said.

I took a knee, D3D up and ready for our last death match. This really wasn’t where I wanted to finish my career—not as a failure. My Archangel optics showed too much information, so I dialed down the sensitivity and relied on my cybernetic eye, just like old times.

The wail of agony continued as Elise picked her way between restless drones to help one of the Shae shield martyrs. A drone pressed the catlike humanoid to the ground and picked away his circuit board armor with its spiky legs.

Elise moved faster. All I wanted to do was lay down covering fire while charging to her side. Why did we both have to lead squads? Godsdammit.

“Do not wake the others, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know!” Information streamed into my HUD now, dozens of spider drones twitching to life. They weren’t attacking, but one wrong move and the entire chamber would awaken.

Elise reached the Shae victim, hesitated, then rammed a combat knife into the back of the drone’s head. It wheeled on her. She slashed off two of its legs.

Other clones squirmed.

Sykes and Billiam’s attacks were as silent as they were ruthless. Billiam bearhugged a drone until its lights went out. Sykes shoved his armored hand through an electronic carapace and pulled out a fistful of brightly colored wires. What made his attack strange was how slow and irresistible the knife hand thrust was—almost like slow motion.

Elise and her bodyguards stood like statues when it was over, waiting for the others to awaken and murder us all.

Time ticked slowly by.

“Good job, kid.”

“Thanks, Reaper. Let’s get to the other side. This place gives me the creeps.”

34

Beyond the cavern of strangely dormant drones was a short hallway to another cavern… of what else… drones. These were practically touching. At least half of them had their eyes open. I signaled a halt, then snuck forward to inspect one of them more closely. “Eyes open but not awake.”

“They are neither awake nor asleep, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said for everyone to hear. “Active or inactive is a more accurate assessment of their motility.”

“Can you pick a different word?” I asked, not sure why my LAI made me feel like I was in back in junior high school sex education class with my friends snickering.

“They’re waking up,” Elise said. “X, can you tell us how long we have?”

“Not long, General Elise. If you wish to continue this way, haste would be in order,” X said.

“Is there another way I’m not seeing?”

Evantros shook his head. “No. Many of us will die.”

“Godsdammit.” I hurried forward, careful not to touch the clumps of cavern drones. “A lot more of them in this room. Very close to each other. Watch your step.”

Two drones stood abruptly, revealing how tall they could stand on their spindly legs. They struck at Bug as fast as snakes.

Path was faster, slicing off their legs, then splitting their bodies in one stroke. The servants of Drakainis had heads, but they were so smashed down into their insect like bodies to be almost the same thing. Tank grabbed another and pressed it between the massive gauntlets of his Defender armor. It popped. Bits and pieces of metal and ceramic panels sprayed in all directions.

“Watch that one,” Roos said, pointing toward the perimeter of his own squad.

RS1 pulled a hammer from his back and crushed it in a single strike—noisy, but effective.

“Move,” I said. “Quick as we can. Stay together and watch whoever is on your right and left.”

Two more Shae went down. I couldn’t reach them, and neither could my friends. Drakainis cavern drones swarmed over the bodies, picking them apart. I wasn’t sure which was more disturbing, the sound of crackling circuits or splintering bones.

A cluster of red eyes glowed to life, nearly blinding me. I slashed them apart with my arm blade and kicked the pieces out of my way. Ten more rushed Bug and the Shae assigned to my squad. “Game on! Weapons free!”

All across the cavern, death drones stood, quivered as they powered up, and marched forward on spindly but powerful legs. Smaller versions descended from the ceiling, supported by cables. I slashed and stabbed, drew my D3D with my free hand, and started blasting.

Two more of the Shae went down before I could help them. Bug wrestled with a trio of attackers. Tank and I reached him at the same time, then ripped the bots off him and flung them away.

Bug scrambled to his feet, one hand holding in a skull busting headache. “She’s confused by our shield. I think she is activating every defensive hive on the planet, drones below the surface and magma creatures above,” Bug said.

“Freaking fraking void crap!” I blurted.

“Excellent work avoiding your usual vulgarities, Reaper Cain.”

“Not now.”

Bug held up one hand. “That might work in our favor. She is spreading out her strength. Once she pinpoints our location, we’re screwed.”

“Then don’t let her do that,” I said.

Elise advanced with her team. “I second what the Reaper said. We need to press into the next passage and regroup.”

“That’s our cue,” I said to my squad and rushed through the wide opening ahead of us.

Tank cursed the loudest when we saw what came next. “Freaking amazing. Not in a good way.”

I made myself the spear tip of our unit, gazing up at the mountain of technology towering above us. The cavern reached all the way to the surface where it opened. Rivulets of molten rock dripped over the edge. Toxic clouds covered the sky. Drones crawled the walls.

None of that was as terrifying as the corporeal body of Drakainis.

Tons of flesh sprawled around her base, too heavy for her internal structure—maybe bones, maybe steel beams—to hold up. Plates of electrode pocked metal floated on the disgusting mass. At her center, rising upward like the trunk of a great tree, was an armored torso covered with the red eyes of her drone guardians.

She faced us, leaned downward, and opened a black maw large enough to swallow every man, woman, and Shae on my team.

Roos acted first, something that really pissed me off. His clones spread out and opened fire, while Roos himself circled toward her blind side.

Tank, Carnax, Elise, and the Archangels opened fire as well, covering each other as they reloaded and dodged an avalanche of guardian drones. More chased us from the previous room. I hurled three grenades in that direction then focused on reaching Drakainis.

“What’s your plan, Roos?” I demanded.

“Damage, that’s my plan, Reaper. Lots of damage. Up close and personal!” His calm demeanor finally cracked as he shouted a battle cry and charged over the base of ancient flesh.

I followed. Elise came right behind me. We slipped and fell as the surface beneath our feet undulated sickeningly. I thrust my arm blade into the mass, then used it to stand and pull Elise to her feet. Roos saw my solution and used a short sword from his back to do the same.

We clambered ever nearer our enemy as the battle raged behind us. All I could hear were guns and Tank cursing. A glance back showed him smashing apart drones like a wrecking machine.

Bug was down. Rizz struggled toward him. None of the Shae stood, though I didn’t think all of them were dead.

“We can’t resist her attack, Hal,” Bug gasped.

“The real trouble is only beginning, Reaper—” X-37’s voice cut off abruptly. Pain burned through my nerve-ware. I screamed a tortured chorus with Bug, Rizz, and the Shae shield martyrs.

“Leave the Reaper behind,” Roos shouted. “He is no more than a liability now.”

“Fuck off, Roos,” Elise roared, then dragged me forward. “You better be worth this, Reaper.”

“You know I am.”

She snorted. “Whatever. Just… start fighting or something.”

Tears streamed down my face. Gore smeared the outside of my visor, or maybe that was the exploding snot bubbles. Heat burned through my arms, legs, and body one second. Icy death followed. I could barely see much less argue with Elise or shout at my LAI.

Roos flung a climbing rope and grappling hook up the monstrous Drakainis.

Elise looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you doing?”

“There is a reason she keeps that ugly face out of reach. That must have been her central processor when she was created,” he said.

Elise fired a stream of Maglan HDK rounds at it. Sparks flew. Blood and gore rained downward, but nothing changed.

“I tried that!” Roos shouted in frustration. “So did my vassals!”

“That’s what you call them? Really?” Elise taunted him, but her attention was on killing Drakainis.

I wiped my visor and staggered forward to join her.

“She’s summoning all of her drones, including the magma creatures,” Bug warned. He tried to say more, but pain ended his words.

“Work the belay. I'm a better climber, I promise you.”

Roos secured one end of the rope. Elise fought off drones that tried to kill us. I grabbed the rope and climbed like all our lives depended on speed. Halfway up, drones that had been embedded into the flesh of Drakainis for centuries exploded.

I swung free of the monster. Roos heaved on the line to stabilize my position. I expected curses and insults, but he said nothing. The Oroth clone master was all business now.

“Shake it off,” X-37 said from a thousand kilometers away. His words came slow, something that was never a good sign with my LAI. He had endured digital attacks many times, but this was worse than all the others combined. I could feel the damage he suffered like it was part of my body.

Pain burned me from the inside. I muted my helmet mic as I sobbed and cursed and begged for mercy. Hopefully, X-37 was too busy with his own issues to broadcast my pathetic misery to my friends.

Did my dignity matter?

Probably not. Deep down, I believed we were minutes away from learning the truth about the afterlife. At this point, I didn’t care who was right as long as this ended.

I climbed because it was my habit not to quit, not because of noble goals or even greedy self-preservation. I was the last Reaper, and this was the shit I did. If I could just have one more cigar, one more discussion with Tom on the observation deck, one more soul crushing run against Elise on a ship treadmill…

“Find the yellow panel, Reaper Cain,” X-37 managed, then drowned under a symphony of static.

“Details, X. Stay with me.”

“You are so pushy, Reaper Cain,” X managed. “I am… trying.”

“Just do it. Trying is for losers!” I shouted.

So much pain. Drakainis was melting my nerve-ware. All I heard now was her laughter. Thunderstorms were gentler than her rage.

I reached the head of the beast. The bulbous stump was three times my size and shaped like an almond. Wires poked out at random, most of them sheared off long ago. Oddly textured screens displayed text I couldn’t read and images that terrified me. Somewhere in the galaxy was a planet where her creatures looked less human than thousand-legged spiders swimming in plasma. Maybe they weren’t pure evil, but to my human psychology, they could appear as anything else.

“Long dead,” Drakainis said. Total silence surrounded us now. I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or the last seconds of my life. “Only I remain.”

“Sucks to be you.” I crawled around her head, searching for a yellow panel, hoping Roos would manage the rope and Elise could protect us both.

“To end me is genocide. I am all that remains of my race.”

“You’re a machine.” There wasn’t anything yellow up here, much less a panel. “X, can I just do a lot of damage? Will that kill her?”

No answer.

“What are you if not a host for a divine machine? I see your nerve-ware and admire your creators. Submit and I will share the secrets of your being with my hive,” Drakainis said. “Why did you come here? You should have bowed to my servant Scheid and ruled the galaxy in my name.”

“Scheid’s next,” I said, making another circuit of the bulbous head but finding nothing that looked remotely vulnerable.

Below me, Elise pointed toward the ceiling, then hooked her finger down. She repeated the gesture over and over like I was an idiot.

Ignoring Drakainis’s rant, I scanned the opening above us, worried that a new attack was coming my way. Magma creatures lined the rim. Several jumped, but none of them landed anywhere near Drakainis. Tank, Carnax, Path, and the others fought with renewed intensity against the new threat.

“Up Reaper, up!” Elise shouted, her voice finally breaking through the wall of silence Drakainis had put around me.

“I’m as high as I can get!” I stabbed Drakainis with no effect other than to relieve my frustration. Then I realized my mistake. Heaving myself higher, I spotted a tiny screen pulsing yellow light on the top of her skull. “What the hell is that?”

“Stop, Halek Cain, the last and worst of the Reapers,” Drakainis said. “This is your final chance to become one with my hive. Your LAI will be closer to you, and to all my children, than ever before. This is your destiny. This is the future of the universe.”

“That is her original transmitter, Reaper Cain,” X managed.

I raised my left hand as high as I could, then plunged the blade downward, piercing the ancient transmitter easily. I pushed harder, thrusting my fist, then my arm in until I was shoulder deep in Drakainis brains.

35

“Reaper…” Drakainis hissed the word straight into my brain. Instead of triumph, I felt dread all the way through my bones. Waves of pain receded too slowly, but they did recede. Misery became ecstasy. It was like finally completing a sprint at Elise’s pace but a thousand times more relief.

“Reaper! Snap out of it. Look at me.” Elise stood over me, snapping her fingers in front of my face. When that didn’t work, she started slapping me over and over. I realized I wasn’t blinking, or moving, or breathing. She probably thought I was dead. I had fallen quite a way. What did she expect?

“Reaper Cain, Elise wishes for you to respond,” X-37 said, his voice clearer than it had ever been.

I sat up, shoved Elise, Bug, Tank, and Path away. “I’m up. What the hell? Can someone get the general off me!”

Tears of relief spread through the group. I was probably doing the same thing but pretended I wasn’t. Reapers were tough. We didn’t cry about little stuff like dying.

“You fell. And I thought—” Elise wiped her eyes. “Just don’t scare me like that! Not ever again.”

“Well stop giving me impossible missions,” I said, then struggled to my feet.

Everything hurt. This wasn’t a fight I could shake off. If we didn’t get into a long slip tunnel where I could get some rest, there were going to be problems. Nausea racked my stomach, but I held down the impulse to vomit.

Drakainis lie sprawled all the way to the distant wall. Thousands of drones twitched and sparked. Some attacked lazily. Path and Tank went to work dispatching them.

Evantros sat in a small circle with those Shae who had survived.

I approached. Elise came as well but said nothing.

“We won,” I said.

His face was a mask of sadness. “Yes. I didn’t expect to survive. Neither did my brethren. What will we do now?” He held up his cybernetic hands. His catlike ears twitched in time with his facial expression.

Bug and Rizz stepped past me to sit with the Shae shield martyrs. “I know a guy. Normally he puts cybernetic junk in people, especially their eyes, but maybe he can take this Drakainis crap out of us.”

“I would be in your debt, Bug, as would my people,” Evantros said.

I stepped back to stand with Elise. Neither of us spoke for a while. We didn’t need to. That was the good thing about close friends. Just being together was enough.

Not far from us, Roos attended to his clones. Their circle looked remarkably like that of Evantros’s people. I reminded myself they were not the same. Roos was still my enemy, even if we had been working toward the same goal. His eyes lingered greedily on Evantros, and I knew he hadn’t given up his idea of building a Shae army to help him defeat Scheid and all the forces of Oroth.

“What now, Reaper?”

“Whiskey and cigars.”

“You never changed.” She stretched her neck right, then left. “I might join you this time.”

“Finally, you admit I was right the entire time.”

She presented the rudest finger she could find on her hand. “Keep your whiskey. I’m having lemonade.”

“Lame.”

“Whatever,” she said, then nodded toward Roos. “We still have to deal with him and Scheid.”

Plans ran through my head. “I’ve got a few ideas. Time to stop playing nice.”

* * *

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CAIN will return in REIGN OF THE REAPER, available to preorder now on Amazon.

IMPORTANT TERMS AND CHARACTERS

Acronyms

- AI—Artificial intelligence

- AWOL—Absent without leave

- BMSP—Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison—Ultramax IX

- CD—Climbdown Day

- CIM—Computerized Inmate Monitor

- CV—Curriculum Vitae

- DM—Dreadmax Marines (inmates on Dreadmax, often falsely imprisoned, who have prior military experience and protect people from gangs and cannibals)

- HDK—Highly Destructive Kinetic (weapon / rifle)

- HDK 4—Shortened (11-inch barrel—from the trigger assembly) HDK commonly used by spec ops and law enforcement

- HDK 4 Dominator—Full length (16-inch barrel—from the trigger assembly) HDK with double high capacity magazines and a grenade launcher under the barrel)

- HUD—Heads up display

- LAI—Limited Artificial Intelligence

- LED—Light Emitting Diode

- LZ—Landing Zone

- MRE—Meals Ready to Eat

- NG—Nightfall Gangsters

- OFAT—Ocean Floor Access Tower

- QRF—Quick Reaction Force

- RC—Reaper Corps

- RSG—Red Skull Gangsters

- SD Regulator—Slip Drive Regulator

- UFS—Union Fleet Ship

- UPG—Union Prison Guard

- X-37—Halek Cain's Reaper AI (limited)

- YOHP—Yansden Ocean Harvesting Platform

- YT—Galdiz 49 rifle, sniper model. (YT is a randomly generated model number)

* * *

Characters in Bastion of the Reaper

Acrondis

Emperor of the Alon.

Briggs

Former Union special operations commander, now a genetically modified monster called a Slayer. His human and Sansein DNA are constantly struggling for dominance, causing radical changes to his physique and mental abilities.

Cain

Halek Cain, the last Reaper.

Cain, Hannah

Hanna Cain, Halek Cain’s sister.

Cain, Olivia Anna

Olivia Anna Cain, Halek Cain’s mother.

Coranth

Sansein warrior.

Eggleton

Sergeant Davy Eggleton, a sniper observer for one of CSL Locke’s special teams. JWO Hamm’s partner.

Elise

Elise Hastings, protege of the last Reaper.

Envoy

Sansein leader and liaison to humanity.

Hamm

Junior Warrant Officer (JWO) Roger Hamm, a sniper for one of CSL Locke’s special teams.

Hutton

Admiral of the Wallach-Xad exodus fleet.

Henshaw

James Henshaw, ocular engineer and owner of the Lady Faith. An accomplished gambler who sometimes cheated with a simple LAI but who lost his LAI during Hunt of the Reaper while attempting to acquire the Black Phoenix device.

Isaac Meldon

Isaac Meldon of Yansden, leader of Yansden. Similar to a president in authority but with virtually no influence on their primary military force, the Kalon Regulars.

Jelly

AI of the Jellybird.

Jess

Alon First Sergeant Kiliana Jess

Novasdaughter

Captain Amii Novasdaughter, acting vice admiral of the Wallach-Xad defensive fleet and captain of the Nightmare.

Locke

Chief Squad Leader (CSL) of Wallach.

Loren

Commander Loren Jacem, leader of the Kalon Regulars—the most professional fighting force on Yansden.

Marcus

Captain Marcus Kellerman, Yasden

Oberland

Admiral Braxton Oberland of the 1344th Alon Grand Fleet.

Path

Grigori Path, a sword saint and weapons master who joined Cain’s crew after Roxo II

Pennington

Carl Pennington, supervisor of YOHP lower level

Rejon of Xad

Leader of the people of Xad.

Sarah

Junior supervisor in the YOHP lower level

Tatiana

Granddaughter of Melina, leader of the largest compound in Yansden City.

Tobias

Commander Peter Tobias of the 1237th Alon Grand Fleet.

Tom

Self-taught engineer and friend of the last Reaper.

* * *

Ships

RWS = Republic of Wallach Ship

AES Ever Victorious

Alon Empire Ship Ever Victorious. Flagship of all Alon fleets.

Bright Lance of Xad

- Flagship of the Xad fleet

- Captured from the Union in Flight of the Reaper, TLR 5

- Captain: Cynthia Thomas Younger

- Executive Officer: Commander Bernard Gile

- AI: Mavis

RWS Coronas 1

- Personal ship of President Amanda Coronas. Up-armored. State of the art escape pod.

Hunter of Xad

- With Jellybird scouting new system after Macabre

- Captain: Omon

Jellybird

- Halek Cain’s ship

- AI: Jelly

Lady Faith

- James Henshaw’s ship

- AI: Lady

RWS Battle Axe

- With Jellybird scouting new system after Macabre

- Captain: Don Hunger

RWS Jumping Fox

- Captain: Jaime Peterson

RWS Nightmare

- Captain: Amii Novasdaughter (acting Vice Admiral)

- AI: Necron

RWS Spirit of Wallach

- Flagship of the Republic of Wallach fleet

- Captain: Quincy Drysdale

- Ship the President of Wallach, Amanda Coronas, travels on. (She does not command the ship.)

- Ship that carries General Karn’s main army

Striker of Xad

- Captain Yolanda Dempsy

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RENEGADE STAR UNIVERSE

CLICK THE TITLES BELOW TO FIND THEM ONLINE

The Renegade Star Series

They say the Earth is just a myth. Something to tell your children when you put them to sleep, the lost homeworld of humanity. Everyone knows it isn't real, though. It can't be.

But when Captain Jace Hughes encounters a nun with a mysterious piece of cargo and a bold secret, he soon discovers that everything he thought he knew about Earth is wrong. So very, very wrong.

Climb aboard The Renegade Star and assemble a crew, follow the clues, uncover the truth, and most importantly, try to stay alive.

The Last Reaper Series

When a high value scientist is taken hostage inside the galaxy's most dangerous prison, Halek Cain is the only man for the job.

The last remaining survivor of the Reaper program, Hal is an unstoppable force of fuel and madness. A veteran amputee-turned-cyborg, he has a history of violence and a talent for killing that is unmatched by any soldier.

With the promise of freedom as his only incentive, he’ll stop at nothing to earn back his life from the people who made him, imprisoned him, and were too afraid to let him die.

The Orion Colony Series

Humanity’s Exodus is about to begin.

When half of mankind revolts and demands more opportunity, those at the top decide on a compromise: they will build the first colony ships and allow those who are willing to discover new worlds to leave and start over.

Twelve ships are built, the first of which is called Orion. Many are eager to go, but only one hundred thousand are chosen for each vessel. Far from Earth, a new life awaits, and it promises the prosperity they’ve always wanted.

But still, resistance stirs, eager to sabotage this new expansion effort, threatening the promise of a new life. As Orion moves through the void of space, towards a distant world, its passengers must fight for survival in an unprecedented conflict.

Win or lose, their future will be forever changed.

The Fifth Column Series

After a soldier is left for dead, Eva Delgado's life begins to unravel.

The truth of what happened remains a mystery, and the government will stop at nothing to keep it buried.

Together with the unit's medic, Eva finds herself branded a terrorist and enemy of the State, hunted by two opposing governments.

When the pair uncover a plot that could have ramifications for the whole galaxy, they know they have to act, but it will take all of their training, cunning and just a bit of luck to do what no one else has achieved.

But what do you do when every secret begets another? And how far will you go to find the truth?

Nameless (Abigail’s Story)

Abigail and Clementine were just a couple of orphans looking for a home.

But when the two girls witness something terrible, they have no choice but to leave their orphanage and go into hiding. The only person willing to take them in is a man named Mulberry, but his home isn't the safest place for two innocent children.

Abigail and Clementine quickly discover that their new caretaker is the head of a guild of assassins, and the two are thrown into a whole new world of danger. To survive, they'll need to adapt, focus, and learn how to survive in a world of killers.

The Constable (Alphonse’s Story)

My name is Alphonse Malloy, and I see everything.

From a simple glance, I know your hobbies, what you ate for breakfast, how well you slept, and whether or not your wife is secretly seeing the high school biology teacher when you're not around.

I can't explain how or why I get these feelings, only that I know they're true.

All the little secrets you're too afraid to tell.

Sometimes, that means helping people. Other times, it means staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

I wish I could tell you I was using this ability for good.

I wish I could tell you a lot of things.

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The Constable Returns

Alphonse Malloy may just be the smartest man alive.

A year has passed since Alphonse joined the Constables, but his work is only just beginning. In order to graduate and achieve full Constable status, Alphonse will need to complete one final mission.

When new information about an old enemy arises, Al and his mentor Dorian must head deep into the Deadlands in search of answers.

But in a galaxy of secrets, the truth is often more elusive than it seems.

As the search continues, Alphonse's talents will be pushed to their absolute limit, and he'll need everything he's learned to make it out of this one alive.

Warrior Queen (Lucia’s Story)

On a lost world, far removed from Earth, a group of humans struggle to survive.

Two thousand years after their ancestors lost control of a hidden genetics research facility, the descendants of mankind have been reduced to a tribe of two hundred survivors. They fight, kill, and die in an endless cycle, all in the hope that things will get better.

Lucia is one of these colonists and the daughter of the tribe's leader, the Director. Together with several other candidates, she must soon undergo a trial to decide her father's replacement. The winner will shape the future of the entire colony.

But the trial is dangerous, meant to test each candidate's wits and strengths to see who is truly worthy. To claim victory, Lucia will need to venture out into the tunnels near the city to search for lost artifacts known as Cores--small but powerful devices capable of harnessing endless energy.

But there are monsters here, waiting in the dark, and they are always hungry. Beware the Boneclaw, Lucia's father use to tell her, for it lives only to kill and to feed.

Lucia must do whatever it takes, learn as much as she can, and fight with every ounce of strength if she hopes to make it through the day.

Forget winning the trial. The real challenge is staying alive.

Resonant Son Series

30 floors of nightmare fueled action. An ex-cop with nothing left to lose.

After losing his job and family, Flint Reed finds himself in the middle of a terrorist attack. With nothing but his wits and experience as a former Union police officer, he must do everything he can to stay alive.

As he soon discovers, however, there are also hostages, and no one is coming to save them.

All hope falls to Flint.

But as he fights to navigate the building, the real answers begin to unravel. What are the terrorists really after, and why are they so intent on getting into the vault?

Experience the beginning of the Resonant Son series. If you're a fan of Die Hard, Renegade Star, or the Last Reaper, you'll love this epic scifi thrill ride.

Galactic Law Series

Lethal force is authorized.

In the wild space of the Deadlands, Taurus Station is where miners and tourists come to play, and the ravager gangs follow close behind. Out here, far from the civilized world, the Law has a name.

Gage Walker is the son of hard-nosed asteroid miners. Brash, rough, and crude, he's one of the few deputies working the station.

Still a rookie, Walker is tasked with the security of a mining magnate's daughter, an easy job that quickly takes a turn for the worst.

The ravager gangs want her, and it falls to Walker to find out why.

In a chase across Taurus Station, Deputy Walker must prove he's fit to wear the badge and issue his own form of justice...one body at a time.

Deadland Drifter Series

When a dental appointment goes sideways, former Union Operative Jack Burner wakes to find himself drugged, and imprisoned.

And he's given a choice: assassinate an Admiral... or allow himself to be killed.

With no other option, Jack reluctantly accepts the mission, only to find himself being trailed by a mysterious blonde woman... and she may or may not want him dead.

As if dealing with a terrorist group wasn't enough.

With the fate of the Admiral and thousands of lives on hanging in the balance, Jack stands in the middle of an event that could ignite a war on the edge of the Deadlands and Union Space.

Despite his exceptional abilities, training, and tenancy, even Jack has little to no chance of preventing this particular powder keg from exploding.

He's going to need a miracle.

The Renegade Series

Jace Hughes is a Renegade.

That means taking jobs and not asking questions, whether that involves smuggling, transporting runnaways, or performing other, far less wholesome work. Whatever the situation, Jace is willing to do what it takes to achieve his dream and live the life he’s always wanted.

That is, until he comes face to face with an item of unprecedented value—something that could give him everything he needs to pay off his debt and be free.

The only problem is that selling it would also shift the balance of power between the two largest empires in the galaxy.

And spark another intergalactic war.

Unfortunately for Jace, he won’t have long to decide. Renegades, assassins, and government cronies are after the item, too, and unlike Jace, they won’t hesitate to kill.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

J. N. Chaney is a USA Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at jnchaney.com.

He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

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Scott Moon has been writing fantasy, science fiction, and urban fantasy since he was a kid. When not reading, writing, or spending time with his awesome family, he enjoys playing the guitar or learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He loves dogs and plans to have a ranch full of them when he makes it big. One will be a Rottweiler named Frodo. He is also a co-host of the popular Keystroke Medium show. You can find him online at scottmoonwriter.com