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Will of the Reaper Copyright © 2019 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2019 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

Previously in Wrath of the Reaper

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

Epilogue

List of Acronyms

Ship and Character Names

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PREVIOUSLY IN WRATH OF THE REAPER

The people of Wallach and Xad struggled to assemble a massive exodus fleet. Plagued with technical problems and challenged by learning each other’s cultures, they worked out a system of shared leadership.

Halak Cain and his friends unraveled the secrets of Doctor Jaxon Ayers, discovering not only that Vice Admiral Neb’s had been using DNA from an archeology site, but that these new weapons of war were probably going to anger a dangerous alien race.

Most important to Cain, his mother and sister were finally revived from their cry-pods.

To make all of this happen, Cain and Elise had to venture onto the most dangerous planet they’d yet encountered. Cut off from the fleet by an Alon scout ship communications jammer, they were attacked by a seemingly benign life force that used solar collection to scour the surface of the planet as they fought to get back into space. When they finally made it back to the fleet, some of the alien hybrids had broken free of their cryo-pods and began a murderous rampage. Perhaps worst of all, Cain realized Doctor Ayers had escaped with some of his mutant experiments.

Cain and his friends put a stop to the crazed hybrids and learned Ayers definitely used them to create as much chaos as possible. When it was all said and done, Cain and his closest allies decided the best thing they could do for the fleet was to leave it so they could go after Ayers and the abominations the man created.

1

“Again?” I stared at a holographic view of the slip tunnel closing on the other side of the system. From this angle it was a giant green ring in the distance, then it was gone.

The two other ships in my little task force spread out to avoid being ambushed just as we had planned. We were ready for a fight seconds after arriving, because I really thought we had caught up with Ayers this time.

“That’s the third slip tunnel and the third time he ditched us,” Elise said, arms crossing as she leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair. Her face was flushed, probably because she had psyched herself up for a major confrontation.

“Doctor Ayers is able to traverse each system more quickly because he does not deploy three ships in a combat ready perimeter around each slip tunnel opening,” X-37 said, his tone pointed. “He simply travels as fast as he can to the next opening.”

“I get it,” I said. “But we have to be smart. If we rush, we'll run into a minefield or get ambushed. This is uncharted space. There could be Alon warships or aliens. Maybe something worse, who the hell knows?”

“I’m not arguing with you, Reaper Cain, but merely stating facts,” X-37 said.

“Encountering aliens might be the best thing that could happen to us.” Henshaw’s demeanor was subdued, probably because he knew I was already mad enough to throw him in a cell or push him out of an airlock. His mistake with Ayers and the hybrids had gotten people killed.

“The bodies we found on the Alon ship didn’t look friendly. A few of them wiped out the crew of an entire star cruiser,” Elise said.

“Which suggests they could be potential allies. The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Henshaw said. “Before you argue, I understand the danger and I agree we should be careful when making first contact. But you must admit, we could use allies.”

I decided to let Henshaw wonder what I thought of that idea rather than answer. “Captain Hunger, Captain Dempsy, report.”

“Our sector is clear. We are ready to proceed to the next slip tunnel opening,” Captain Dan Hunger of the RWS Battle Axe answered.

“Jellybird copies. Captain Dempsy, have you found anything?” I asked.

“There are no enemies to fight and nothing to salvage here,” Captain Yolanda Dempsy of the Striker of Xad said.

“Good. Let’s move in a wedge formation with one thousand kilometers of separation. This system doesn’t have much to offer other than the slip tunnel openings,” I said. “Elise, take over.”

“Right away, Reaper,” Elise said with a salute straight out of an action holo drama. The dynamic young woman was a popular topic of conversation among the people of Xad. Her self-styled uniform was a combination of formality, flash, and function. Despite all of that, only Path surpassed her crazy hair. She had a way of making it appear short or long depending on her mood.

It was hard to know how seriously I should take her attempts to imitate the Xad formality while retaining her rebellious originality. X-37 suggested that any mistake on my part would lead to a personality crisis. I disagreed. The kid wasn't so much of a kid anymore.

I left the bridge and wandered the short, narrow hallways of the Jellybird. After so much time on the Bright Lance of Xad, I’d grown accustomed to long walks to clear my head.

“Is there a problem, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Do I have to pick one, or can I dump every setback and challenge on you?”

My limited artificial intelligence was unfazed by my sarcasm. “You may do whatever you like, Reaper Cain.”

“I’m thinking about Briggs,” I said. The Union spec ops commander had been a last-minute addition to this mission. For reasons I couldn’t articulate to Elise or the rest of my team, I believed his presence would be vital to our success. Or maybe I just felt bad for the man who had once allowed Elise and me to escape a Union trap. Leaving him behind might have meant his death.

Coronas and Rejon wanted to keep all of the unconscious hybrids alive to study. But I understood the back and forth politics of the issue. They might not be able to protect the remaining hybrids if public opinion demanded they be jettisoned. Hell, it hadn’t been so long ago that they were arguing the hybrids should be destroyed along with anything or anyone threatening the combined fleet.

I wouldn't have a problem with that if it weren't for Briggs and others like him who I had known during my spec ops years.

“I think I did the right thing by bringing Briggs, but I'm worried he is still being affected by the DNA splicing,” I said.

“As you should be, Reaper Cain. The man has been thoroughly compromised by the genetic experimentation of Doctor Ayers. And since you brought it up, Jelly and I have noticed that the changes he is experiencing spike each time we leave a slip tunnel,” X-37 said.

“I better check on him.” Before I finished the sentence, I was heading for the modified storage area we used as a brig.

“One moment, Reaper Cain. I’m accessing archival data now. There is insufficient evidence to prove Commander Briggs and his team attempted to kill you on Dreadmax,” X-37 said. “Marley Callus and his team actively assaulted you and your friends. If my analysis properly follows the organizational chart of Union special operations, it would lead a reasonable person to believe that Commander Briggs must have had some involvement in the attempt on your life. But that is not the same thing as trying to murder you himself—at that time.”

I was distracted but tried to listen as I stopped outside the containment door to Briggs’s cell. “Uh huh. Right.”

“Briggs and Sergeant Crank also engaged you with an exceptional level of violence on Greendale,” X-37 continued.

I snapped out of my reverie. “And at the end, he let us go when he could have easily stopped us.”

“Correct, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “This indicates a change of heart but does not tell us with any degree of accuracy how the man behaved after we parted ways.”

“I know, X. But what I see in that cell is a human tortured by science,” I said. “And that’s something I can relate to.”

“Are you going into the cell or shall I open a communications link?” X-37 asked.

“I’m going in.” The decision felt wrong. A form of dread I didn't recognize spread through me until it felt like a physical thing. I pushed it away. One thing I had learned during my long career was that fear came in many different forms and wasn’t always bad. “Keep me on my toes, X. If I start to slip or make bad decisions, start kicking my ass the moment I screw up.”

“I will do my best, Reaper Cain. You know my limitations well, of course. Shall I have Elise or Path standby in Archangel armor in case you need to be dragged clear of the cell?”

“If you tell either of them what I’m doing, they’ll freak out,” I said. “Path won’t look like he’s freaking out, but you know what I mean.”

“I believe I understand perfectly, Reaper Cain.”

“Let’s compromise. Make sure they’re not busy and are as close as possible to my location without actually telling them what I’m doing,” I said.

“I have requested a test of the Archangel gear and suggested they perform maneuvers in the main storage bay, which is reasonably near your location, X-37 said.

“Perfect.” I opened the door and stepped into the small room. Commander Briggs was squatting in the corner, his face toward the wall.

“He may be sleeping,” X-37 said.

Putting aside my instinct to talk, I watched the man who had been a dedicated soldier of the Union. Not many people made it through the selection process for spec ops. Few stayed at the top of their game as long as he had.

We hadn't been friends. It was important to remember that. Especially if I had to do something unpleasant to protect the people I cared about.

The man's posture changed and I was reminded how much bigger he was now than he had been during our encounter in the BSMP warden’s office. Alien DNA had been spliced into his, probably against his will, but who knew.

“Are you awake?” I asked when he had shifted his balance several times without standing from the deep squat that almost looked painful.

He turned and rose to his full height, towering over me, and I wasn't short. “I am conscious. I wish I wasn't.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

He glared at me with his strange eyes—not with malice, but like he was trying to decide who and what I was. “I feel like I'm being ripped apart and put back together second by second. It's not always a bad feeling.”

Creepy, I thought, waiting for more of an explanation.

“Most of the time it's pure hell. I'm not gonna lie.” He flinched every other word as though the DNA manipulation forced upon him was emphasizing his point.

“What can you tell me about the aliens Ayers was trying to bring back?”

He laughed without humor. “Ayers doesn't know what the fuck he is doing. I know more about the Sansein than he does.”

“I would like to know where he came up with that name if Doctors Ayers hasn't already provided the term,” X-37 said.

Our eyes met and he realized what had just happened. I knew without asking a question that the man wouldn't be able to tell me where the name of the aliens had come from. This opened a Pandora's box of scientific inquiry that I thought would keep Ayers, Henshaw, and all of the fleet’s scientists busy for years.

“Sansein?” I asked.

He looked almost embarrassed but also at peace with the situation, a type of resolve I assumed came from his experience and hard training. “I don't know if that is actually the word, but that is the best way to say it in our language. It's more of an image, or pair of images, actually. Everything with the Sansein seems to be binary.”

“You're talking about some sort of genetic memory, right?”

He nodded, then shrugged.

“His ability to articulate this information is more than enough reason to keep him alive, as well as any other hybrids that are awakened from the cryo-pods,” X-37 said. “I will prepare a brief to present to President Coronas and Rejon of Xad. I understand why Ayers and Henshaw are fascinated with this development.”

I wanted to ask my limited artificial intelligence how he could be so clinical, but it wasn't worth the complicated series of nonverbal signals it would take to argue without talking aloud in front of Briggs. Now my focus had to be on the former spec ops commander. Not least because he was dangerous. There was a sense of menace beneath his calm demeanor.

“Why did you bring me on this mission?” Briggs asked.

“It's just a hunch. I think you have more to tell me.”

He didn't say anything. Once or twice, he flinched. For a moment, I thought he would squat down and turn away, but he controlled himself with almost visible effort.

“We'll try to help you if we can,” I said. It sounded lame but there it was.

“You could do something for me.” The volume of his voice was so minimal that I barely heard him and made a mental note to review the recording later to be sure I hadn't missed something. Sometimes, when he spoke, his lips moved more than was needed to make the words.

“I can't let you go.”

He took a step forward, making me feel truly vulnerable for the first time since I was a child cornered by gangs in the dark streets and alleys of Boyer 5.

“You could let me go. Do it right now. Just put me in the airlock and push me out.”

He laughed nervously.

“You hate what this experiment is doing to you. I get it,” I said.

He laughed harder, turning away slightly and retreating a step. “I don't even know if I would die in the void. Wouldn't that just fucking suck, drifting around half alive freezing my balls off.”

“Worst way to die I can think of,” I said, and we both laughed like we were hanging trash on each other after a mission before I'd become a Reaper and he'd become a Slayer.

“Think about it, Cain. It might be easier to get rid of me now than later. You know I'm changing, right?”

I nodded and briefly considered asking him about what X-37 had observed. I wanted to know if every slip tunnel was going to accelerate his change. But something stopped me from asking the question—instinct maybe.

“Let me know if you need anything. And if you think of more alien secrets we can use to keep humanity from getting wiped from the galaxy, tell me immediately. Jelly knows to listen for you no matter where you are on the ship,” I said.

“Roger that,” Briggs said.

The phrase, and the way he said it, made him seem more human than he had since I saw him on Greendale, despite his strange, alien appearance now.

* * *

After my interview with Briggs, walking the halls wasn't enough to quiet my mind. Apparently, we’d been in there talking for longer than I thought because Path and Elise had completed their Archangel training and gone back to their cabins. Tom and Henshaw were manning the bridge, discussing theories and playing cards.

I entered our gymnasium without turning on the lights. That didn't mean it was pitch black, but it was gloomy. Before long, I was running to the glow of the treadmill’s kilometers display. I'd learned long ago to endure training marches up to fifty or even a hundred kilometers. The union never required us to run that far in a single stretch, but several of us took on adventure race challenges that lasted days with barely any rest.

That didn't mean I loved endurance training. I could run. I was decent. On a good day, I could even push the pace against Elise. But normally, a guy like me did just enough to be fit for a mission.

The distance racked up on the display as I worked myself into a trance. It was good to let my mind wander. When a topic or situation bothered me, I picked up the pace until I couldn't think about anything but putting one foot in front of the other. When I was done, hours had passed, and we were nearing the slip tunnel that Ayers had used to escape with the Lady Faith and several of the hybrids in different stages of their transformation.

“Are you nearly finished, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Yeah, sure.” I carefully stepped off the treadmill, watching it as it continued to spin for several seconds. The low-tech device was powered by my movements rather than a motor. This was an excellent training benefit but could be a problem if you stopped moving before it had lost momentum.

When I stepped down, the deck felt weird and it took me a moment to get my balance.

“I will adjust your suggested calorie intake,” X-37 said.

“We are nearly ready to enter the slip tunnel, Captain,” Jelly said. “Shall we man the battle stations as we did last time?”

“Sure, Jelly. I'm on my way. Do I have time for a shower?”

“If you are quick and refrain from drinking beer or leaning out of the water stream to smoke a cigar.”

“Fine. You’re no fun at all.”

* * *

Not all slip tunnels were the same length. Normally, I could count on a few hours or even days of rest. The longest I remembered was about two weeks but I didn't really keep track of that type of thing anymore. Distance was relative when you were fleeing across the galaxy.

My crew had decided it was best to be ready when we entered a slip tunnel just in case it was a short one. There are also dangers that can present themselves while in transit, as some of our adventures among the fleet had demonstrated.

“I'm detecting no anomalies with the slip tunnel,” Jelly advised.

“Good.” I relaxed but stayed alert. During my long career in the Union military and since then as an outlaw, I'd been through so many slip tunnels they should be routine. But the sight of one always amazed me. The flow of energy looked like it was close enough to touch sometimes, but I knew distances could be hard to measure by sight alone.

“And it looks like the slip tunnel is opening,” Elise said. She wasn't in her Archangel armor. The bridge of the Jellybird made that difficult, but not impossible. Elise, Path, and I had trained repeatedly on how to gear up as fast as possible. We had learned many lessons since we started using the space effectively. Like that time on the butterfly planet when we realized it had active camouflage we hadn’t known how to use.

“The Battle Axe and the Striker are reporting they are ready,” Jelly advised.

“Good,” I said. “We'll spread out just like last time, but tell everyone to be quick about it. We want to actually catch Ayers someday.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said.

I stared at the holographic view of the system we were entering. It was dominated by a nebula, blazing bright red in places that could indicate ionized hydrogen atoms—and probably meant temperatures in excess of ten thousand kelvin, hotter than some stars. I wasn't exactly up on my science and didn't understand why we weren't being melted into slag right now.

“I'm a bit concerned, X,” I said.

Elise, Tom, and Henshaw shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

“This looks worse than it is,” Jelly said.

Tom made calculations. “What you're seeing is very diffused. As long as we keep moving, we should be okay. It will interfere with sensors and I wouldn't recommend EVA missions until we are through the next slip tunnel. Micro-fighters should be okay, but I will need to run further calculations.”

“Oh, darn,” Elise said. “You know how I love an EVA mission.”

I appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood. There had been a time when she was terrified of spacewalks, but since we acquired the Archangel armor, she was always the first to volunteer—especially if it meant using one of the micro-fighters in conjunction with the armor.

“I don't have sufficient sensor readings to manufacture full visual representations of the Lady Faith, but I can tell you I've identified her and she is moving at her maximum speed toward the next slip tunnel,” Jelly said.

“Have we detected any mines or ambush risks?” I asked.

“None, Captain,” Jelly said.

“All right, let's go after them.”

“There is one slight complication,” Jelly said.

“Of course there is,” I said, observing what looked like the shadow of a ship or ships pursuing the Lady Faith’s icon.

“Why don't we have more information on those,” Elise asked. “I understand the nebula is interfering with sensors, but we see less of these things than we do of the Lady.”

“The only reason we can detect the Lady Faith is that we know the frequencies of her stealth cloak,” X-37 said. “This suggests that whoever is pursuing her is using some sort of concealment technology we’ve never encountered before.”

I skimmed through the raw data then glanced at the images that were less than satisfying. If we weren't about to get in a fight, the scene would be beautiful. But it didn’t matter. What I needed to see was my enemies.

“Let's fall in behind them and make sure they don't spot us,” I said. “If we get closer, maybe we can figure out who these ships belong to.”

Updates came in over the next hour as we maximized our speed. I wasn't satisfied with the rate at which we were closing on the Lady and the other ships. Sometimes it seemed there were two and other times the shadow was a single vessel.

“Who thinks this is an Alon ship?” I asked.

No one in my crew answered. Weird. Normally everyone including the ship and my LAI had an opinion. Now, silence. First time for everything, I guess.

“There is some good news,” X-37 said. “Jelly and I have confirmed this is a diffused hydrogen nebula ionized by a B type star far from any of the slip tunnels. This partially explains the shifting colors. Travel through this quadrant is possible. There is also a significant non-ionized dust nebula intermingled over several light-years. If we were coming at it from a different vantage point, most of the quadrants would appear as nothing but darkness. So I guess we're looking at the bright side.”

“Did X just make a joke?” Elise asked.

“I was not attempting humor, Elise. If that is funny, I will add it to my database and analyze it at a later time,” X-37 said.

“Might as well, X,” she replied.

I groaned inwardly, barely paying attention. I didn't like this system and I had a bad feeling about the shadow ships.

For the next two hours we barely spoke. Jelly kept the stealth cloak activated, increasing her speed incrementally beyond anything we had tested thus far. It wasn't the movement of the ship that worried me but anything we might encounter while in transit.

“I've been working on a theoretical representation of the shadow ship,” X-37 said.

“Put it on the display,” I said.

It resembled a wedge of crystals. The only reason I thought it might be artificial was the seemingly intentional shape and several points of light that I thought were power sources or heat vents.

Tom captured a view for his workstation and began scribbling furiously on his data pad. Moments later, he started speaking excitedly.

“If you watch closely, it seems to split in half at times,” he said “That is why there often appears to be two ships. At first, I thought one of the ships was moving in and out of a stealth field. Now I'm pretty sure this vessel joins and splits. Why do you think it does that, Jelly?”

“Unknown,” Jelly answered. “It may be correlated with the way it catches and releases the Lady Faith.”

Henshaw leaned forward in his seat. He’d been observing with his usual intensity but hadn't made a single note or calculation as Tom had. “Whatever kind of ship that is, it's toying with its prey.”

2

“Is there any indication the mystery ship has seen us?” I asked.

“No, Captain,” Jelly said. “None of its movements suggests an interest in our location and I have not detected any signals directed our way.”

“Good. Continue to close the distance if possible. Captain Hunger and Captain Dempsy, hang back at a safe distance,” I said, using radio communications only.

“Understood,” Hunger replied.

“As you wish,” Dempsy said.

“I have never moved at these speeds through a system like this,” Tom said a few minutes later. “I'm concerned that the nebula will affect our stealth technology. We're dealing with a lot of unknowns right now.”

I didn't disagree. “Let's hope for the best. If we take the safe option, we will lose Lady without learning anything.”

“We'll do what we can,” Henshaw said, sitting up at his workstation and getting involved for the first time since we began this chase.

Elise worked the sensor array, Tom and Henshaw made calculations and proposed theories, while Jelly and X-37 ran numbers constantly.

I stared at the holo display and thought dark thoughts. “Let me know if the shadow ship splits again. That will mean trouble this time.”

“You can’t know that,” Elise said, sounding annoyed. “I was just getting comfortable, and now you’ve got me all tuned up again.”

“Comfortable or compliant?” I asked.

“Don’t be a jerk.” Elise didn’t look at me. Something in her sensor readings dominated her attention. “Lucky guess.”

“What?” I hadn’t expected this strange ship to turn on us so quickly but if I gauged Elise’s reaction correctly, that was exactly what just happened.

“The shadow ship has separated into two halves again. One is heading straight for us,” Elise said. “But that’s not why I saw it first. It started sending out very tight and very powerful signals. We’re lucky to recognize it searching for us. I normally don’t monitor these frequencies.”

“Good work, Elise,” I said. “Jelly, notify the Battle Axe and the Striker immediately.”

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Tom, you’re on weapons,” I said. “Research and analysis can wait.”

“Of course.” He closed his extra screens and dropped a three-dimensional holo he’d been manipulating as his theories about the shadow ship changed.

I liked having Tom on weapons, but we’d experimented with other assignments during our down time. Ideally, I wanted everyone to be capable of every job on the ship.

“Path, do you read me?” I asked.

“Loud and clear, Reaper,” the sword saint replied.

“Put on that Archangel armor,” I said. “I know you don’t like it, but we need to be ready for anything.”

“I’ve already donned it. If there are boarders, I will respond according to their actions,” Path said. “Also, tell Elise that her idea of using the camouflage function has allowed me to choose my own color scheme. I think she will find it amusing.”

“Just…” I wondered what the hell kind of crazy digital paint job the two of them would come up with if this was really an option. “Just… never mind. I don’t care what it looks like as long as you can fight.”

“Of course,” Path replied.

“This thing is incredibly fast,” Henshaw said, swiveling back and forth in his chair nervously as he checked and double checked his readings. “I can’t see how it can slow down to engage us without tearing itself apart. Could it be unmanned?”

“It could be anything,” I answered. There was something wrong with the approach vector. I realized it the moment Henshaw mentioned the incredible speeds of the strange crystal ship. “It’s not after us, it’s heading for the Battle Axe and the Striker.”

One moment, we were facing down this new enemy, and the next, it flashed past our position on the monitors. In real distances, this wasn’t close, but in the void all of that was relative.

“It hit us with a massive signal burst as it passed,” Elise warned. “Whatever it is, it knows we’re here.”

“My analysis suggests we should prepare for it to come about once it is finished with the Wallach and Xad scout ships,” X-37 said.

“Why can’t anything be easy?” I felt out of my depth and realized this might be the end of it for me and my crew. One mistake and we were done.

“We’re taking fire!” Captain Hunger shouted. “All power forward shields! Evasive maneuvers!”

“Yes, Captain,” a member of his crew said.

“Weapons, engage the enemy!” Hunger roared.

Captain Dempsy moved to assist with the Striker of Xad. “We are firing missiles.”

Captain Hunger and the crew of the Battle Axe didn’t respond. Each time I tried to listen to their battle comms, chaos ruled. It was like they were being struck by dozens of enemies.

“Let’s do what we can to help, Jelly,” I said, aware that this meant abandoning our mission to capture Ayers.

“We can’t do that!” Henshaw shouted, his voice louder than I thought possible. The ocular engineer rarely lost his temper like that.

“We are also taking damage,” Captain Dempsy broadcast. “We will need assistance or we will need to withdraw from the battlefield. None of our weapons have been able to touch the enemy.”

“We are on the way,” I said. “Jelly, do we have any weapons more advanced than Striker?”

“We do not,” Jelly answered. “And before you ask, the dynamics of this fight preclude the use of micro-fighters. Even with the Archangel augmentation, the smaller ships risk being lost in the void as a confrontation moves at these speeds.”

“Battle Axe for Striker, get clear,” Captain Hunger said. “We will cover your withdrawal and follow when possible.”

“It has been an honor,” Captain Dempsy said, then gave orders to her crew. Already damaged, the Striker of Xad raced back toward the slip tunnel we had used to enter the system.

“We’re going to need to disengage as well,” Hunger said on a closed channel.

“Understood,” I answered. “We’ll see what we can do.”

“Thanks, Reaper. It has been an honor.”

“Tom, light that freaky crystal ship up. Jelly, get us outta here the moment we have their full attention. Let’s draw them away from our friends.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said.

Tom launched a barrage of rockets, timing them so they did not hit all at once and would have a better chance of overwhelming point defense systems if the mystery ship had anything like that. I watched and thought we were doing better than our allies had managed.

“It seems that Tom has been successful,” Jelly said. “We are changing course and accelerating now. Please be sure all safety harnesses are in place.”

When the shadow ship dropped its version of a stealth cloak and turned to follow us, all the colors of the nebula reflected from its surface. For a moment, I was entranced by its stunning beauty and couldn’t believe this was a warship. If Jelly and X were right, it probably wasn’t manned—at least not by anything with our physiology. Or their tech was different. Or who the hell knew? The G forces it had to pull to do the things it did must be incredible.

“I would probably kill somebody for a good asteroid field to hide in,” Elise said.

“Or maybe you’d prefer the planet full of deadly animals.” I agreed with the kid. I’d welcome any decent place to hide.

“We are proceeding at our maximum safe speed,” Jelly said.

“Better just push it all away into the redline,” I said. “It might buy us a few minutes.”

3

“There is a bright side to this encounter,” X-37 said.

“Really?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Yes, Reaper Cain. How else will we learn the full capability of their weapons without getting hit by them?”

“I vote that X doesn’t get to talk anymore during this battle,” Elise said.

“I second the motion. Motion carries,” I said as I looked for solutions that weren’t there.

Neither Henshaw nor Tom laughed at the joke. All of us were searching for options.

I pulled out a cigar, trimmed the tip with a small knife, and lit it with an old-fashioned lighter Tom had made me during a slip tunnel voyage.

“Is that supposed to help?” Elise demanded.

“I feel better.”

She shook her head. “Good for you.”

“Brace for impact,” Jelly said.

I felt something a few seconds later but it was anti-climactic. “Did we improve our shields or something?”

“No, Captain. The enemy fired a very small, relatively slow smart missile that went through our shields as though they weren’t there. Our engines have been disabled,” Jelly said. “Had our shields put up more resistance, there would’ve been a more noticeable impact.”

“I love you, Jelly,” Elise said, “but you don’t sound as upset as I think you should sound.”

“Apologies,” Jelly said. “I’m unable to determine a vocal tone that would improve the situation.”

“Not what I meant.” Elise kept her words short as she worked the sensors, searching for the ship that kept shifting in and out of our detection abilities.

I switched to a private conversation with X-37. “Freeze the best image we have and show it to me, maximum resolution.”

Seconds later, my limited artificial intelligence presented a picture only I could see. The ship displayed wasn’t made of crystal but some other material I wasn’t familiar with. It seemed to face the opposite direction from what I expected. The bulk of it was in the front with something trailing behind like… tentacles.

“That looks like I should recognize it, some sort of sea animal,” I said.

“I can search the archives for terrestrial water creatures located on known Union and Deadland worlds,” X-37 offered. “If that was designed after an animal, it seems unlikely the creature it was modeled after could have moved or functioned on land. Would you like to see my research?”

“Sure.”

X-37 displayed several disturbing animals. With a flick of my fingers, I swiped through dozens of examples that were close to what this looked like but not exactly correct. “I don’t know, X. If the designers of the ship were using a sea creature for inspiration, I’m not finding the right one.”

“The design could also mimic a void creature,” X-37 said. “I can find several references to these types of organisms in fiction and theoretical science, but no actual examples. It’s a lot like the dragons people claim once existed on mythological Earth. A kraken perhaps but made of a crystalized metal alloy?”

“Let’s just not go there,” I said. “The point is, whoever made this ship doesn’t think like a human.”

“That would be my conclusion as well, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“What I want to know is how we can use that to our advantage.” I couldn’t stop wondering why this ship bothered me. I’d seen strange things before. There had been missions to planets with all manner of exotic animals and strange cultures. But this was different. I felt we were missing something.

“It’s turning away from us,” Elise said. “Almost like it’s bored.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Henshaw said. “Look again. Check your sensors. You’ll see that it is returning to the other half of the ship even faster than it came to attack us. In my opinion, that means it sees something it doesn’t like and is either going back for reinforcements or to report to a superior.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Tom asked.

I listened to them debate but thought Henshaw nailed it right on the credits. My observations were always visceral, rarely as scientific as Henshaw or Tom. I relied on my limited artificial intelligence for the rational, evidence-based conclusions. Instinct was telling me we were in big trouble and that the next time we met these aliens we were dead.

“Captain?” the Jellybird’s AI asked.

“What is it, Jelly?” I asked.

“Your presence is required in the brig.”

I looked at my crew. They’d all heard what the ship had just told me and seemed alarmed.

“I’m coming with you,” Elise said. “If this is more urgent than being attacked by an alien scout ship that can go twice our best speed without any apparent effort, then there must be trouble.”

“Fine, but everyone else stays on the bridge until the crisis is past,” I said. “Except Path. Where is our sword Saint?”

“He is meditating on the observation deck,” Jelly answered. “Would you like me to summon him?”

“No. Leave him. He will need his rest. We can’t all be sleep deprived and stressed out the next time we face this ship.”

The Jellybird was small, and it didn’t take us long to arrive at our makeshift brig. Jelly granted us access, and I saw Briggs pacing in his tiny cell. I’d never seen him this agitated, not before he was changed or after.

“Don’t come in this time,” Briggs said. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“What the fuck?” Elise made no attempt to hide her surprise.

The former spec ops commander’s eyes twitched rapidly, causing Briggs to lose his balance often. Despite this difficulty, he didn’t seem willing to stop pacing. Each time he reached the edge of his cell, he had to put out a hand to stop himself from running into it. He pushed off and turned like a drunk and continued moving.

“Take a breath, Briggs. I need you to calm down. Use the combat breathing drill you were taught in basic training,” I ordered.

He shook his head, which drew attention to other changes. The veins on his neck stood out, pulsing in rhythm with his heart. What was worse were the hair-like fibers protruding from the bumps in his arms. He didn’t have tentacles, but he would—and probably sooner than anyone would like.

“I’m trying to calm down, Reaper. But you don’t understand. How would I know that you just encountered an alien scout ship?”

“You’ve been around, Briggs. You could probably feel the Jellybird accelerating for no reason,” I said, but I knew he was right.

When he laughed, it sounded like it hurt. “Yeah, Reaper. I’m sure that’s it. Remember your promise. Don’t let them take me. Swear to never let them have me.”

Elise and I both tried to talk to him, but it was no use. We muted the channel but continued to watch him as we talked amongst ourselves.

“You made him a promise?” she asked.

I shook my head no. X-37 didn’t correct me, so I was certain I remembered my last encounter with Briggs. “He talked about some crazy ship. I probably made a mistake bringing him.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Elise said. “What if these changes are coincidence? He could be back on the Bright Lance, breaking out of his cell and killing civilians if the changes were going to happen anyway.”

“Yeah, but I doubt that would have happened,” I said. “X, as soon as Path is done with whatever he’s doing, have him stand guard here. Elise and I are going back to the bridge.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

Jelly gave us updates. By the time we were back in our seats, the crystal scout ship was merging with its other half. Not long after that, the trailing sections of the ship that I thought looked like tentacles but that Henshaw and Tom said looked like exhaust from some sort of advanced engine, engulfed the Lady Faith and pulled through a slip tunnel.

“I really don't like the look of that,” Elise said. “Did it capture the Lady or eat her?”

“How long before we can go after it?” I asked, ignoring the question.

“It is unknown if we can repair the damage done to my engines,” Jelly said.

“You meant to say we’ll be underway again in no time,” I said.

“No, Captain. I require extensive repairs.” Jelly said. “We’re fornicated.”

4

Sitting on the observation deck without a glass of whiskey felt strange. Doing nothing while Tom and Elise searched for millimeter sized holes on the exterior of the Jellybird was driving me crazy.

I wasn’t sure why I was here.

According to the plan we agreed upon, I was supposed to be sleeping. Nothing seemed to be hunting us, there were no attacks to defend against, but we were in as much danger as we ever had been. Jelly’s prognosis of the damage was discouraging. We were operating on backup power until all of the tiny holes could be located and patched. When that was done, the entire system needed to be checked, which would be time-consuming.

“What exactly are you looking at, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked. “My analysis of your behavior suggests you are in a mood.”

“I’m looking at the ceiling, checking for… whatever might be up there,” I muttered, not really wanting to defend my melancholy.

“There is nothing of interest on the ceiling, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I see what you see.”

“But do you, X. Do you really?” I considered lighting my cigar.

“Are you messing with me?” A pause. “Am I using that phrase correctly? It is something I have heard you and your friends use from time to time.”

“Sorry, X. I’m just out of sorts.”

“Analyzing…”

“I need to be doing something but I don’t know what to do. I should be sleeping but I can’t.”

“Reaper Cain, I can put you to sleep for up to twenty-four hours if you so desire.”

“I might take you up on that for four or five hours,” I said, twisting the cigar and looking at it, attempting to remember if it was an actual Starbrand or a fake. I hadn’t been taking the time to fully appreciate my bad habit. “I’m slipping, X.”

“Be aware, Reaper Cain, this is an alert word in my lexicon. It can indicate you are about to compromise a mission against a high-value target and lack the resolve to carry it through,” X-37 said. “Specifically, I am talking about an assassination directive.”

“I know what you’re talking about, X. I’m not slipping like that, and let’s hope I don’t have any more of those types of missions.”

“A message from Elise is coming through,” X-37 said.

I sat up, only then realizing how anxious I was for this news.

“We’re making great progress, Reaper, but you will need to take a shift like everyone else,” Elise said.

“I’m in the middle of a sleep cycle,” I said, talking with my hands almost as though she was right in front of me. It wasn’t a mannerism I indulged often. I was very intentional about my nonverbal movements because I spent so much time learning to communicate with my limited artificial intelligence by gesture, everything from hand movements to eye movements.

“Whatever, Reaper. We all know you better than that. You’re probably sitting on the observation deck too stressed out to smoke the cigar you’ve been holding in your hand for two hours,” Elise said, the broken rhythm of her words suggesting that she was working as she talked.

“Watch it, kid. I’m tempted to come out there and show you how it’s done. Put a Reaper on the job and we’d have been done a long time ago.”

She laughed.

“Normally she would say that she is not a kid,” X-37 said. “Is there something wrong with her?”

I shook my head then tapped my fingertips against my thumb in a sequence to convey I thought she was performing optimally—X-37’s phrase, not mine. There were times I had to think more like my nerve-ware buddy than myself. Communication was a matter of give and take—like all relationships between trained killers and their emotionless algorithms designed to keep them going at all costs.

“On second thought, we’ll probably just take a break and leave you inside. Don’t want you to mess up all the high-quality work we’ve been doing out here,” Elise said. “Thanks for noticing.”

“I’ll put you in for a performance award,” I said.

“Gee, that would be really great.” Elise sounded like she was mostly enjoying the work. It probably kept her mind off how screwed we were out here.

“There is an alien vessel approaching,” Jelly announced on the main channel. “I recommend we pull everyone inside and prepare for battle.”

“Agreed.” I stood abruptly. “Elise, get your butt back in here.”

“Why?” She sounded alarmed but determined. “It’s pointless to sit inside while we get destroyed because this isn’t fixed.”

“She’s right,” I said. “I’m suiting up to help her. Keep us updated. Path—”

“I am already on my way to assist Elise and Tom with repairs,” Path said.

“I’ll stay on the bridge in case they try to communicate this time,” Henshaw said.

“Negative. I need you working on repairs inside. Jelly can relay any attempt at communication to all of us. I’m not making you the fleet’s liaison for a first contact situation,” I said, jogging toward my Archangel armor and an airlock I would use as soon as I was geared up.

“I don’t like your logic, but I agree with that,” Henshaw said. “I’m heading to the engine room.”

“That will be helpful.” Jelly’s tone was almost always smooth and reassuring, but I knew immediately something was up as she continued. “There are two points of interest you should keep in mind at this particular moment. The approaching vessel is not the same one that fired upon us, or the other half that it split from. It is also talking to me.”

“What’s it saying?” I froze in the airlock and suspected none of my friends were doing anything but listening right now.

“I have translated the signals it uses into a male voice to distinguish it from mine during this conversation,” Jelly said. “This will reduce the time it takes for me to repeat everything it says.”

A chill went through me as I waited mere seconds for the words of the alien ship.

“I am peace. Do not fear,” the alien ship said. “My brothers are going through the change. Do not judge me for their actions.”

“Are you sure you’re translating its language right?” Elise asked.

“X-37 and I have been working on this issue since our first encounter,” Jelly said. “We believe it is more precise than human language by a factor of one hundred.”

“Like machine language?” Elise asked.

“That would make it more efficient by orders of magnitude,” Tom said. “As much as I hate to admit it.”

“Tom is correct,” Jelly said. “How would you like to respond, Captain?”

“I changed my mind. I’m coming to the bridge.” I raced to the small hallway, already in the Archangel armor except for the helmet that I carried in one hand.

A thought popped into my head, because now was obviously the time to wonder about Elise and Path’s camouflage modifications to their Archangel gear. “X, can you tell my armor to change to its base color?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Would you like something more tactical?”

“You bet, X. That’s exactly what I want.”

Seconds later, the stainless steel and gold sheen of my armor was flat black.

“Interesting,” I muttered.

“You could have asked why the Archangel armor was shiny. That was an egotistical affectation of Vice Admiral Neb’s. The base color is much more utilitarian,” X-37 said.

“I like it,” I said.

“What the hell are you doing, Reaper?” Elise demanded.

“Never mind,” I said. “Everyone focus. Do your jobs. Get this ship ready for action.”

“Our estimation of how long this will take has not changed,” X-37 said. “If everyone doubles the speed of their repairs, it will only transform a two-day process into one day, which doesn’t help our situation in the moment.”

“You’re right, X. But we can do things that don’t make sense when life and death is on the line,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Would you like me to store this dialogue as an inspirational speech for future reference?”

“No, X.” I moved through the door to the bridge and awkwardly assumed my place in the captain’s chair. It adjusted to my increased bulk, but everything was too small for me when dressed as an Archangel. It felt like I was tearing up the chair and about to break something on the armrest controls.

“The ship is within five hundred kilometers and is waiting on a response,” Jelly said.

“Can I talk to it directly? Do you have the processing speed to make an accurate translation?” I asked.

“Of course, Captain.”

“I am peace,” the voice from the alien ship said. “Do not fear. I am not the same as my brothers who are in the change.”

I tapped my fingers on my leg, hoping I wasn’t sending X-37 a barrage of confusing nonverbal messages. It wasn’t often I succumbed to such a nervous habit. “My name is Halek Cain. Do you have a name?”

“I can’t believe we’re having the Reaper make first contact,” Henshaw said from the engine room.

“One moment, Halek Cain. This is a difficult translation,” the voice from the alien ship said. “I’m afraid my name would be meaningless and confusing. What would you call me?”

“I’d like to call you a benevolent alien first contact who can help us fix our ship and steal back our prisoner—who, by the way, is not representative of all humans,” I said.

“That seems to be a rather long name compared to your own,” the voice said. “Call me Envoy.”

“That works. Are you going to help us or blow us out of the void?” I asked.

“I will help you,” Envoy said. “In many ways.”

I waited.

“My brothers are angry because of the abomination you have created and brought into our domain,” Envoy said. “This is displeasing. I will not offer advice as I do not yet have a solution to this problem. There are many holes through your ship. I can repair the exterior more quickly than your people are doing, but I do not wish to go inside your vessel as that would violate the sanctity of your conveyance.”

“Why do you want to help us, Envoy?” I asked, fearing the answer without knowing why.

“I am peace. I have been through many changes. It is not yet time for me to do violence,” Envoy said. “Engaging in combat against you would not be satisfying or honorable.”

“Suddenly, I’m not feeling like this character is going to be our friend,” Elise said on a private line.

“Return your people to safety and I will patch the holes while you focus on your interior mechanisms,” Envoy said.

“We don’t have much choice,” Elise said. “Tom and I are coming inside.”

“Good call.” I ran through list after list of things I needed to ask but didn’t want to risk taking the encounter in the wrong direction. “X, I could use some help here.”

“The Union first contact manual mandates keeping the potential adversary talking while an attack is planned. It further states that unless it is certain Union forces can maintain dominance, that the attack should proceed with speed, surprise, and violence of action,” X-37 said.

Elise and Tom hurried to the airlock and came inside. The door closed behind them. “We’re in,” she said.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Without further discussion, the alien vessel approached until it was nearly touching our ship. The precision of its movements was alarming. I couldn’t imagine the crystal vessel being effective in combat, but what did I really know about ship fighting—or alien ships made of strange materials and unknown technology. From this close it was possible to see that what trailed behind it was some sort of mechanized arm cluster made out of the crystal like substance.

“We are recording as much data as possible,” X-37 said to me privately.

An airlock of the most elegant design opened from a space near the base of the mechanized tentacles at the aft section of the shining ship. A humanoid in a white void suit emerged. Moments later, it touched its feet to the exterior of the Jellybird’s hull.

Then something very familiar happened. From each of the suit’s arms, cables shot out, finding damage much quicker than seemed possible. I couldn’t see exactly what it was doing but X assured me the repairs were made quickly and effectively.

We watched in silence as it sidestepped and began again.

“My brothers were only disabling you, which is not like them,” Envoy said. “Do you mind if I talk while I work? I promise not to make mistakes.”

“We’re listening,” I said. “And watching.”

I called up X, Jelly, and my friends on a comms link I hoped was private. “Just for clarification, this is the pilot of the ship we’re talking to, not the ship?”

“Yes, Captain. I originally referred to it as the ship because that was the source of the signal,” Jelly explained.

“Thanks. Just trying to take things a bit slower. Don’t want to start an intergalactic war because I wasn’t paying attention to detail,” I said.

“A good policy,” X-37 said, while Elise and my crew groaned and complained I was going to get everyone killed.

“Listening and watching are good things.” Envoy hopped to an entirely new section, skipping the place where Elise and Tom had been working. “I must tell you the truth. From this close, I can feel the wrongness of what you have done. One of you should check on the abomination before he hurts himself.”

“I’m already headed that way,” Path said.

Envoy paused, then went back to work. “I sense that one of you is very quiet and dangerous. You call him the sword saint?”

“You can sense that, huh?” I asked.

“I am also learning much from the way you talk, Halek Cain,” Envoy said. “You are similar to how my brothers will be after they have completed their changing and decided who shall be their death partners.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that,” Elise said.

“It is important that you not judge all of us from one of us,” Envoy said.

“Right back at you,” I said. “The man in the ship your brothers are chasing created the abominations, if that’s what you have to call them.”

“Why would he do such an evil thing?” Envoy asked, moving to yet another place to conduct repairs.

“Maybe he’s going through some kind of change just like your brothers,” I said, probably not thinking the statement all the way through.

“That would be unfortunate,” Envoy said. The alien in the spacesuit worked in silence for a time, traversing the surface of the ship with steady efficiency.

“I’m with Henshaw now,” Tom reported. “We’re making good progress. We might actually survive this mess.”

“Repairing the ship and surviving in the long-term are not the same thing,” X-37 said.

“Thanks for that, X,” I said. “Why don’t you put that in your file of motivational speeches.”

“Done,” X-37 said.

I decided it wasn’t worth the effort to force a retraction from my limited artificial intelligence.

“Your ship is very primitive,” Envoy said. “I have done my best. Our people are different but not different. It would have been best if we had never met. I must return to my ship now and leave.”

“That’s disturbing,” I said, attempting to catch up from the sudden change of tone. “Can you put in a good word for us with your brothers? If we can get back Doctor Ayers, I promise there will be judgement and justice.”

Envoy didn’t answer. Instead, he returned to his ship with the startling speed and grace I was coming to expect from the Sansein alien. Not long after that, the crystal shelled ship accelerated away from us at an alarming rate.

* * *

“We must find Ayers and sequester him before Envoy’s brothers interrogate him,” X-37 said.

I listened to my limited artificial intelligence and watched Elise work the sensors while Tom and Henshaw performed other systems checks.

“Envoy did what a team of engineers would’ve taken a week to accomplish,” Tom said. “I hope that we can establish peaceful relations with his people. It’s difficult to imagine what kind of advancements we could make with their guidance.”

“Assuming they don’t purge us from the galaxy,” Henshaw said, sounding tired.

“Jelly, were you able to track which slip tunnel Ayers fled through and if he was caught?” I asked.

“I can only tell you which tunnel Ayers and the pursuing vessel used,” Jelly said.

“Mark that as our destination and let’s get there just as quick as we can,” I said.

“Of course, Captain.”

Tom and Henshaw sat back from their work, looking at me with tired expressions.

“What’s the verdict?” I asked.

“The Jellybird is functioning better than she has since her last visit to dry dock and neither of us can detect any type of tampering or sabotage left by Envoy,” Henshaw said.

I made eye contact with Tom, trusting his opinion more than I would ever trust Henshaw with anything.

“I think we’re lucky this time,” Tom said. “We need Envoy on our side. If his brothers decide to kill us, we’re going to need a lot of help just to stay alive.”

“That’s assuming that all of the other members of Envoy’s race are equally advanced,” Henshaw said.

“Seems like a pretty safe bet,” Elise said.

“I agree, but it is best not to jump to conclusions. We know nothing about these creatures,” Henshaw said.

“Interesting choice of words,” I muttered under my breath. X-37 heard me but Henshaw only squinted like he suspected I said something negative.

“Well, on the bright side,” Elise said, breaking the mood. “We survived our first contact with true aliens.”

“That depends on your definition of first contact,” X-37 said. “Our first encounter with living members of this sentient race involved them attacking our ship.”

“And we survived that too,” Elise said.

“We have been very fortunate,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests we should endeavor to continue this trend.”

“No argument there, X. I want everyone to get some rest. I’ll even take a turn once you can prove each of you got some decent rack time,” I said.

“I’m not going to argue with you, Hal,” Tom said, and before long my friends were gone from the bridge.

I pulled out my last Starbrand, checked it carefully to be sure it was what I thought it was, and smoked it down to nothing.

5

“We have triple checked all repairs,” Jelly said. “I may assure you at a ninety-nine percent level of confidence that there was no sabotage left by Envoy.”

“That's great,” I said. “But I still want you to conduct random checks of your own systems. Work with X-37 and Tom.”

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said. “I have modified my routine to increase my redundant internal security checks.”

“Elise, what’s your status?” I asked.

She answered via her Archangel helmet communicator. “We haven't found anything. Path and I have scanned every surface. If Envoy left so much as a single bacteria cell, we should've found it.”

I also conducted system checks. I wasn’t sure why, but I just didn't think Envoy had done us wrong. That didn't mean I was going to get soft on security. The slip tunnel was stable, our ship was in better repair than it had been for a long time, and we all needed to rest.

“All right, next order of business. Who is ready for some R&R, and by that I mean sleep not gambling.”

“You are overdue for recuperative activities, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I know when I need to rest, X,” I said.

“My mistake, Reaper Cain.”

I waited a second. “That's it? No chastisement or further analysis?”

“Not at this time, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Elise has explained that it is a waste of everyone's time to continue asking you to do things you refuse to do.”

“And you're good with that?”

“Not exactly. It puts strain on my programming.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Elise said. “Just tell him he's a pain in the ass and if he doesn't get some sleep and eat some real food he's going to be a liability to the team.”

“What she said,” X-37 said.

“Fine. I'm going to turn in. Wake me in four hours,” I said.

“I must advise you that six point three would be better for your current metabolic rate, Reaper Cain.”

“I can live with that,” I said, closing down my workstation and heading for my cabin.

* * *

I slept hard for over nine hours. X-37 didn't wake me up and wasn't that apologetic about it. We could've had a one sided, mostly pointless argument about who was in charge, but I wasn't feeling it.

Nothing had happened and we were still in the slip tunnel, so it was all good. I even managed to grab a quick workout before heading to the bridge.

“Are we sure we’re in here alone?” I asked as I took the captain's chair.

“Completely sure,” Jelly answered. “It's a refreshing change. I know you're in a hurry to catch up to the vessel that captured Ayers, but this has been a welcome chance to put things in order.”

“You're right,” I said. “X, what's Elise up to? I thought I was relieving her on the bridge.”

“She is patrolling the ship—trying to stay awake, I think,” X-37 said.

“Well make sure you harass her to get some rest as much as you’ve been harassing me,” I said. “It's only fair.”

“Are we concerned about fairness now, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“I'm fair,” I said.

“Only by accident,” X-37 said. “I anticipated this response and have run the numbers. I can assure you that fairness has never been your first concern when making decisions.”

I pulled up a holo view of the slip tunnel to cover the fact that I was at a complete loss for words.

“If it makes you feel better, I would have advised you if fairness was something that was critical to the success of any given mission,” X-37 said. “It is a metric that organic life-forms seem to value, but that is often times senseless and abstract.”

“I agree, but let's just drop it for now,” I said.

X-37 not only dropped it but moved directly into the next conversation. “The slip tunnel is opening.”

“Jelly, sound the alert,” I ordered, then pulled up tactical holo screens in case we had a fight on our hands.

“Done, Captain,” Jelly said. “But since we no longer have other ships to assist us, I have begun a circumnavigation of this quadrant to check for threats.”

“Good work.”

Minutes later, the rest of my crew, except for Path, arrived on the bridge. The sword saint’s job was to repel boarders. Elise was on the sensors and as a backup weapons officer. She also had part of her Archangel armor on in case she had to go help Path. She had adjusted her armor to be flat gray with two dark blue vertical stripes down her left sleeve for some reason. I didn’t even know how to ask what was behind her fashion choice this time.

Tom was on weapons. Henshaw was at the science officer’s workstation with an understanding he might be required to deploy to the engine room. He had complained that was a better place for the mechanical engineer, but Tom was better at manning the Jellybird’s improved weapons systems.

Time crawled like a prison sentence. This system was free of nebulae, debris fields of destroyed fleets, or just about anything of interest, including Ayers or his captors. Yet for some reason I couldn't relax.

“Commander Briggs is in distress,” Jelly advised. “Since we are not encountering a threat, perhaps you should attend to him. Much of what he is shouting is unintelligible, but I'm sure he called for the Reaper at least once or twice.”

“I like to remain on the bridge for the first hour,” I said. “But you might be right. Can you give me a visual and audio feed of his cell?”

“Of course, Captain.”

The audio reached me just before the image and I knew immediately what was happening.

“Battle stations, Jelly,” I shouted. “All hands, battle stations.”

Briggs shouted warnings, his face turned up toward where he knew the camera was located. “They're here! They're here! Do something, Reaper! Don't forget your promise.”

“I'm picking something up,” Elise said. She'd barely been in her seat at the sensors array when she started speaking. “How the hell did he know we were under attack when Jelly and X couldn't figure it out?”

“That is a good question, Elise,” Jelly said. “Technically, I should point out, we are not under attack.”

“Close enough,” I said, trying to understand what Briggs was rambling about. I needed to go down and talk to him face-to-face, but I also needed to be on the bridge to deal with the crisis. “X, can you make any sense of what he’s saying?”

“I'll work on it, Reaper Cain,” X-37 promised.

“Captain, I am unable to confirm what the hybrid prisoner claims,” Jelly said. “There are no enemy ships within our sensor range.”

“Let's try to improve our position, head for the nearest gravity well in case we need it for maneuvering,” I said. “It's probably far too fast for us to handle, but maybe we can buy some time by slingshotting around the planet.”

“There are problems with this logic, but I agree it's better than nothing,” Jelly advised. The nearest planetary body is approximately fourteen hours away. This is a very large system.”

“Jelly and I have upgraded our stealth capabilities in preparation for our next encounter with the Sansein,” X-37 said. “Through direct observations and analysis of what you learned from Briggs, we believe they see everything twice with each layer separated by a slight time dilation. Our new algorithm accounts for this factor.”

“Sounds great. I totally know exactly what you’re talking about.” I dreaded facing the aliens. Fear wasn’t the right word, but it was close. We just didn’t know much about them except that they were dangerous and had fast ships.

“Would you like me to explain it in more detail?” X-37 asked. “Or perhaps Jelly could find smaller words that you would understand.”

“Wow, X. That kind of felt like an insult,” I said.

“Technically, it would be difficult for me to truly insult you because I lack the emotional capacity to desire such a result during communication,” X-37 said. “In your words, I don’t give an actual fuck.”

“Is your personality algorithm working?”

“I made certain adjustments at your request, if you remember,” X-37 explained.

“Yeah, I vaguely remember something about that. I'll probably regret this, but couldn't you lighten up just a bit,” I said.

“I can do that,” X-37 said. “Lightening up is a recognized colloquialism from some of our earliest conversations—nonsensical as it is.”

I massaged my temples, closing my eyes for several seconds. “X, just stop.”

“Please be more specific.”

“What I need right now is more dealing with the enemy and less nattering about your personality, or lack thereof,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Jelly and I have been working on our primary goal of keeping you and the rest of the crew alive.”

“The ship, or whatever that thing is, is communicating with a simple binary code. It will take a few minutes for us to decipher the meaning,” Jelly explained. “There are subtle differences to what we experienced with Envoy.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, X.” I flipped through several of my own holographic displays, manually checking each section of the ship to be sure nothing had followed us without our knowing—I’m not sure why I was worried about that—or that Briggs hadn’t freaked out and escaped as a full-blown Slayer. Not that I was worried about that either.

I was a Reaper. I didn’t worry about anything. Because I wasn’t slipping.

“We have an update, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Fantastic.”

“The alien ship is communicating that they have our leader in their custody,” Jelly said. “It is much more difficult to understand them. We must use their ship to translate in a similar but slightly different way from how we interacted with Envoy.”

“He's not my leader,” Elise muttered. “Or anyone’s leader. Can you make them understand that?”

“I agree with Elise. We don’t want to take responsibility for Ayers or his actions,” I said.

“That will be a difficult concept to express,” X-37 said.

“Work on it, X. Let Jelly do the talking for now while you figure out the rest of the language,” I said. My limited artificial intelligence was an expert at languages. As a Reaper, I often had to go places that had fallen away from the Union and had strange ways of speaking. Hopefully this skill could be translated into something useful out here in the middle of nowhere.

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

The ship shuddered.

“What the hell was that?” I shifted in the captain’s chair to look around as though that might provide an answer, then felt like an idiot.

“Unknown,” Jelly said. “There has been a development, however.”

“You’re killing me, Jelly. Let’s have it.”

“Of course, Captain. X-37 has been tutoring me on your many strange phrases, which I admit I didn’t understand nearly as well as I thought I did. My previous captains were colorful, but—”

“Skip to the point, Jelly,” I said.

“The Sansein ship is putting Doctor Ayers on the comm,” Jelly said. “Unless he is now in charge of their ship, an unlikely turn of events but something that should be considered as remotely possible.”

I knew I shouldn’t ask for clarification, but I did. Because I was a glutton for punishment. “How remote?”

“Four million to one,” X-37 answered.

6

The alien ship maintained a steady distance from us but moved around our perimeter, probably to complete a three-dimensional scan. Everything about this crystal tentacle ship set my nerves on edge.

“Put Ayers on the comm if you can,” I said.

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.

“They want me to talk to you.” Terror accentuated every word Ayers spoke. “Why did you make them wait so long? Are you trying to get me killed?”

“From that statement, we can assume there are multiple aliens on the ship,” X-37 said. “I’m running voice analysis to look for further clues we might glean from the doctor.”

I didn’t answer my artificial intelligence because it wasn’t necessary, but the information was good to have. “I’ll answer your last question first; getting you killed is in fact one of my long-term goals. As for why I had to wait so long, you of all people should appreciate the complexities of dealing with first contact scenarios.”

Ayers paused, his image imperfectly rendered and ghostlike. “Is there anyone else on your ship I can talk to?”

“You could talk to Elise.”

Silence followed.

“The girl in Archangel armor who helped storm the Dark Lance?”

“Yup. Your choice, doc.”

Ayers made a whining, groaning sound. “I’ll talk to you. You’re probably better for this sort of thing anyway, even though you hate me.”

“I also hate you,” Elise said.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just pissed off about all the people you got killed when you left the Slayers behind to murder them on the Bright Lance. We renamed that ship, remember,” I said.

“Just help me!” Ayers shouted. This time, it was obvious he was either injured or being tortured. “I can’t stay here! These things are monsters! You have to help me, Reaper!”

Static and ear-piercing feedback cut through the line, followed by the sound of violent impacts and more screaming from Ayers. The aliens yelled at him in their own language, which not only hurt my ears but made me want to vomit. The ghostlike image of Ayers bumped up and down and slid sideways as he was dragged away from where he’d been talking to us.

Even though I didn’t like the man, the scene infuriated me. I found myself clenching both fists so hard they hurt. Elise swore under her breath. Tom and Henshaw looked grim and angry as well.

“Ayers, are you there?” I asked.

No response.

“Ayers!”

The alien corpse we had found on the abandoned Alon star cruiser had been beautiful even in death, and what appeared on the holo was no different. Every part of it was covered with white fur so short it could almost be felt or some other exotic fabric, although I doubted it was anything so fragile. Its face was angular and its eyes were an almost glowing blue color. Its head was writhing with something like feathers or maybe flexible razor blades. The creature stood upright like a human. It wasn’t a way for me to determine its height but it had a sturdy, athletic appearance that was tall and lean proportionally. From its arms, there were tentacles waiting to shoot out something. At the tips, instead of hooks like the Slayers, these strange appendages had almost triangular wedges of sharp bone—or that’s what it looked like on the holo.

“Are you the Reaper?” it asked, its voice barely understandable.

“What’s it to you, feather face?” My insult had no apparent effect but did cause it to pause for a second as its ship, or whatever, wrestled with the translation.

“Are you death?” it asked.

“Sometimes.” Silence held the bridge around me. None of my normally talkative and smartass friends dared speak. My heart pounded in my chest despite all the effort I was putting into appearing as calm and hard as a badass, super-secret assassin should be.

“We will be death when we meet,” it said.

“There is another ship entering the system,” Jelly warned.

I acknowledged with the press of a button but kept my attention on the alien that was turning out to have even worse first contact negotiation skills than me.

“Can I take a rain check, maybe reschedule? I’m kind of busy trying to not die right now. This jackwagon you have prisoner caused some of my people to die, and I need to have a word with him,” I said, then directed the next statement to X-37 and my crew. “Let them try to translate that for a while.”

“I think you misunderstand the objective of communicating with a powerful alien entity,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests it would be best to be clear to avoid confusion that might lead to tragedy.”

“Now you’ve made it ugly,” I said.

“The Ayers made the abominations and must face the trial of dissection,” the alien said.

“Dissection? Check your translation software, buddy. And by the way, his name is just Ayers, not The Ayers.”

“The mother ship calls me. Go someplace and die before I kill you,” the alien said.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name,” I said, trying to keep him talking.

Silence.

“I’m just going to put this out there,” Elise said. “You and your new friend are the absolute worst people to represent our races.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We should have let you or Henshaw do it.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Elise asked.

“Can we move on? I’m trying to figure out our next move,” I said. “Ayers is a horrible human being, but I don’t think he should be tortured to death by aliens.”

“Of course not,” Henshaw said. “He should be tortured by Reapers to get his secrets and then disposed of when he’s no longer useful.”

“Watch it, Henshaw. With your track record lately, I’m not above trading you for Ayers. Then you can learn all you want to about this super special smarter than us sentient alien race,” I said, only half thinking about my words. Most of my attention was on my options, none of which were good.

“The new vessel is approaching the alien ship that captured Ayers,” Jelly advised. “I believe the ship that captured Ayers is very similar to the one that contacted us and repaired our damage. At least in terms of size. The new arrival, however, is much larger.”

I watched, nodding at the multiple explanations from Jelly and X-37 about the possible inaccuracies of the digital simulations of the ships we were trying to observe. Scans of their hulls came back with inconsistent results, making it hard to know their exact dimensions.

“Talk to me, Jelly. This thing looks like it could eat us in one bite,” I said.

“Contrary to appearances, I believe it is actually a ship and not some sort of void creature,” Jelly said. “Given our past experience with the smaller ones, I advise a tactical retreat immediately.”

The new ship was shaped differently, more of a large flat object with openings on the bottom that I assumed were landing bays. It was difficult to see from our current vantage point, but I didn’t like the sense I was getting from the thing. “Whoever said alien first contacts were fun? I’m thinking we would’ve been better off if we’d never met these things.”

“We are being scanned,” Jelly advised. “And the mothership is launching a fresh squadron of small but seemingly aggressive ships.”

“Get us the hell out of the system, Jelly,” I said.

“I’ve set a course for the nearest tunnel and we are proceeding at our best speed,” Jelly said.

7

Over the years, I’d found the best way to deal with problems too big to think about was to stay busy. Just take massive amounts of action and hope for the best. That always seemed to work for me.

What could go wrong?

None of us slept on the Jellybird until we had passed through two slip tunnels, barely charting the systems we used to escape other than their locations and basic information. Eventually, I did sleep when it was my turn and stood watch when I thought the danger of being discovered was the highest.

Now it was time for something else I didn't want to do, and that was confront Briggs.

Path stood guard outside the detention area in full Archangel armor. He appeared to be a metal and ceramic statue—about what I expected from the calm, serene warrior. The hallway lights were kept low to conserve power. It was hard to imagine such thrift would be necessary but there wasn't much chance of getting help out here.

For all I knew, we’d seen the last of our friends in the fleet. We could run until we died and still never escape the Sansein ships. It almost made me want to turn and fight one desperate last stand. Screw these freaks.

“Any change?” I asked.

Path turned his head slightly, probably just to be polite and let me know he was awake. “No change. Unless you are referring to the increasing biological transformations Briggs has endured since the slip tunnel crossings. Jelly and X-37 have been monitoring these developments very closely.”

“I was hoping we’d seen the worst of that process already.”

Path considered my words. “You are a good man, Reaper.”

“Now you’re screwing with me. I kill people for a living.”

“When was the last time you did anything that wasn’t to save a friend or someone in need?” he asked.

“Moving on,” I said. “I’d rather not check my moral score card.”

“Me neither.”

“Can I ask you something, Path?”

“Of course, Reaper,” Path said.

“Have you always been someone who meditates?”

“No, Reaper. I was, for most of my life, very much the opposite in my thoughts and actions.”

“Why did you change?”

Path looked at me from inside the Archangel armor. I could tell by his subtle change of posture, but I wasn't sure what the change meant.

“Are you asking why I changed or how I changed?” he asked. “Because there is a difference.”

It wasn't like my strange friend to stall.

“Most people ask how when they should be more concerned about why,” he said. “I changed because I had to.”

“Thanks for being vague,” I said.

He laughed. I heard his voice through the helmet speakers. It wasn't something he did often, but it always seemed genuine.

“I was impulsive and violent, always taking what I wanted when I wanted it,” he said. “I've abused my body in every way imaginable. If I had not changed, I would've died and probably hurt a lot of people along the way. Something happened that made me realize change is easy if a man commits to it.”

I didn't agree but this wasn't the time or place to argue. If I was perfectly honest with myself, I was probably stalling the confrontation with Briggs.

Path elaborated. “I never had the drive that you do. I was always seeking pleasure and self-gratification, and I didn't control my temper. What you do is always for some reason, even if those reasons are wrong. You may need to destroy Briggs. The easiest way would be to put him into the void. He wants this, as you are probably aware.”

I left the sword saint and entered the cell. Briggs was once again squatting and facing into the corner but this time his entire body was trembling. He was larger. Muscles rippled across his back. There were spiny ridges here and there that I didn't remember on any of the other Slayers.

“Are you awake, Briggs?”

“I'm always awake now.” He sounded angry. “Sleep is a terrible place. This body doesn't need it, so I don't allow it to happen.”

Looking at him like this, I was full of regret, even though I hadn't caused his condition. Leaving him with the fleet wouldn't have stopped him from changing but might have slowed the process. We knew so little about these hybrids I couldn't really be sure.

“Why did you bring me on this mission?” Briggs asked, his voice sounding like his throat was made of sandpaper. “And why do you travel slip tunnel to slip tunnel? Each new system puts stress on my body, like it is preparing for danger or conflict or whatever. It’s not the DNA, it is something Ayers did to make it survive—to adapt to the complicated immune system I think.”

“How do you know all that?” I asked.

“I don’t. But I have been thinking a lot and trying to understand what is happening to me. There is some knowledge leaking into my consciousness but I’m afraid to know why or how this happens,” he said. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I thought they might kill you if popular opinion turned against keeping you and the other hybrids alive,” I said.

The sound of his laughter was horrible. It caused his body to shake even more and I wanted to cover my ears to drown out the sounds. “I'm changing too fast. This might be our last conversation.”

“Coronas and Rejon want to keep the hybrids in cryo-sleep until they are better understood, but the ones Ayers set loose on the Bright Lance did a lot of damage. Someone will eventually demand justice.”

“They would be right to have us disposed of,” Briggs grunted, once again fighting to make his words understandable.

“You would be doing him a mercy if you killed him,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests, however, that this would not be a mercy for you, Reaper Cain.”

“Why don't you say something?” Briggs asked, finally facing me even if he did stay as far away as possible in the small room.

“I don't know what to say, Briggs.”

“That's right,” he said. “My name is Briggs. I knew that. When the pain is bad, I think about my name. I try to remember things… like being human.”

I said nothing.

“Don’t stop talking now, Reaper.”

“We encountered the ships you warned us about. They think you're an abomination—that you are evidence of a crime we committed against their kind,” I said.

“You could destroy the evidence,” he said levelly, his voice almost human this time.

The former spec ops commando looked more freakish every time I encountered him. And he sounded more like a monster. But he always wanted the same thing: for me to destroy him before he became something horrible.

“What are you thinking, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked. “By every analysis, Commander Briggs has accepted the need to end his life. You know he's dangerous. You owe him nothing. Why haven't you made a decision?”

“Well, X, the safe and easy way does not always lead to victory. Sometimes it's necessary to take chances,” I said.

Briggs rose to his feet, towering over me and breathing heavily, strange nostrils flaring as drool gathered around his teeth that never quite stayed behind his lips now. His chest rose and fell, emphasizing his increased musculature and strange protrusions from his arms that I knew would one day be able to shoot tentacles or something equally horrible. His eyes, multifaceted and completely inhuman, studied me with malevolent intensity. But what he asked me was the same question.

“Why don't you just put me into the void?”

“Always the same questions with you,” I said.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“It makes me think your mind hasn't changed much, which would be an insult under most circumstances, but given that you've been genetically merged with an alien freak show, I think it's a good sign,” I said.

“You always were difficult.”

I laughed, then pulled out a cigar but made no move to light it. “You do remember. We’re making progress.”

He retreated until his back bumped the wall, then spread his hands out against the surface behind him as though searching blindly for an escape he knew wasn't there. His gaze roamed the room looking for something and he made a pathetic whining sound I didn't like.

“Path, I'm coming out.”

Briggs lunged forward, snapping his oversized and overly sharp teeth at me. “Why won't you make a decision, Reaper?”

Drool or venom or whatever dripped from the first row of his teeth. Looking sharp and slightly serrated, the teeth were stacked row after row, like a new one would slip forward when one was lost.

Fear and fascination surged through me. Standing my ground, I put the cigar in the corner of my mouth and hoped he couldn’t smell my terror.

“I made my decision,” I said.

* * *

“You’re not honestly considering this?” Elise demanded, pointing at the floor like that meant something.

“Are you pointing at the floor?”

She held her ground, intensifying the gesture with a stronger downward jab. “You know what this is. This is you making the stupidest decision of your entire stupid life. Right here! Stop being an idiot.”

Path, who had leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, seemed more put out than I could remember. Outside of his armor, his crazy hair and glowing piercings gave him a look from one of the noir mysteries Tom had been reading lately. He actually looked kind of pissed off and disappointed now.

Tom, loyal Tom, was trying to rationalize my idea to make Briggs part of our actual team. Henshaw stared at me like I had punched him in the face and given him a concussion.

“Even if it works, what will they say in the fleet if we bring back a Slayer we say is part of the team now?” Elise said, walking back-and-forth now, talking with her hands like there was a crowd of onlookers equally abhorred by the idea I was presenting.

“I’m not saying it’s a great idea or even that it would work,” I said.

“But you want to try anyway!” she said, stopping to clench one fist and shake it at me.

“What I’m saying is that we lock everything down, we have you and Path gear up in full Archangel gear, and we see what he does when I give him a chance to run around on the ship. His body is changing, but I don’t think it’s affecting his mind as much as we all assumed it would.” I considered my own words for a second. “Which makes ejecting him into the void a lot more horrible than if he was a pure monster.”

“It makes sense,” Henshaw said, his tone level and rational now that he’d worked through the shock of my initial declaration. “Ayers and Nebs wanted soldiers. They would have taken steps to be sure they could still follow orders.”

“If true, that would mean Ayers ordered them to go on the killing spree when he left them behind to cover his escape,” X-37 said.

“Not surprising,” I grumbled, only half listening. “Let’s just see what happens. If he goes crazy and we have to kill him, I guess that solves our problem.”

“That’s stupid,” Elise said.

“If the Reaper’s plan works, Briggs could be key to our survival,” Henshaw said. “The aliens call him an abomination and seem ready to do violence to destroy him and us. We may need to face the fact that no peace is possible. As much as I hate to admit it, it might be time to prepare for total war.”

I studied the man, gauging what he was saying and the way he was saying it. This wasn’t the argument I expected him to make but he seemed earnest. Facing annihilation could definitely change a person’s outlook, and maybe he was finally realizing that the Sansein weren’t just some theoretical concept.

“All of you are idiots,” Elise snapped. “I’m going to the armory to get geared up.”

* * *

“Why are you doing this?” Briggs asked.

I stared at him through the visor of my dull black Archangel helmet. Path and Elise were similarly prepared and waiting in the hallway, weapons primed.

The cell felt tiny.

“Tell me what Nebs hoped to gain from this project,” I said.

“That’s easy, Reaper. He wanted another weapon, just like the people who designed the Reaper program wanted another weapon,” Briggs said.

“Name one weapon in the Union arsenal that doesn’t have a safety feature,” I said.

He looked at me, working his jaw side to side but keeping it mostly closed.

“I’m not doing this just because I think you’re a swell guy, if that makes you feel any better,” I said. “Death is permanent, and if I kill you I can’t learn anything new. I also can’t convince you to fight to protect the people of our fleet. You understand how corrupt the Union is now, I hope. This is your chance to make amends for all the wrong you’ve done over the years.”

I expected him to claim he had only been doing his job, following orders, but he merely squatted down and rubbed his Slayer face with his oversized hands. The difference was that he wasn’t shaking so much and he didn’t face into the corner like all the times before this.

“We’re taking you out of the cell,” I said. “You’ll stay with me and do everything I say. If it goes bad, I have two more people in Archangel armor. You know what it can do.”

Briggs lowered his hands, gazed up at me with his strange eyes, then nodded.

“Open the door, Jelly, we’re coming out,” I said.

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said. The reinforced door slid open to reveal the hallway where Elise and Path waited on either side of the opening, their weapons ready. She had a tricked out HDK carbine and Path had a sword specially made for use with the armor. It was bigger and the hilt was more of an attachment to his gauntlet than something he held—almost but not quite the same as my arm blade.

Briggs didn’t move at first, but when he did, he leapt through the opening and landed farther into the passage than I had expected.

“Shit!” Elise shouted.

“Briggs, don’t move,” I said.

The Slayer who had once been a Union spec ops commander dropped into a low stance that wasn’t quite the squat like he had used in his cell. This wasn’t a true fighting stance but something like standing at attention for a Slayer—probably something engineered by Nebs and Ayers rather than part of human or Sansein genetic code.

“What now?” Briggs asked, then shook his head violently like something in his throat was giving him a fit.

“We’re going to go slow and I’m going to ask a lot of questions, starting with what the hell was that?” I asked.

“I’m not always in control of my impulses,” Briggs growled. Then, in a more normal voice, he continued. “I can almost see the orders and standard operating procedures Ayers implanted in my head. How does that work, Reaper? I need to know because it scares me.”

“My analysis suggests that there is some sort of nerve-ware restraint collar implanted in the hybrids,” X-37 said. “Please keep in mind, however, that I have very little information on what is possible with genetic coding. Commander Briggs has indicated the presence of genetic memories and a yet to be explained connection with the approach of Sansein ships. We should proceed with caution.”

“All right, Briggs, let’s go. I don’t have all day,” I said.

He hesitated, but then took a step forward.

I waved for him to continue. “Come on.”

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“The most important place on the ship,” I said. “The observation deck.”

Briggs relaxed slightly. If I understood him like I thought I did, he was relieved I wasn’t taking him someplace he could really do damage, like the bridge or the engine room, or even the flight deck—which was actually just our loading bay.

We stepped into the hallway and proceeded steadily toward the observation deck. As time passed, I felt more and more confident of my decision. This man was a weapon that had been crafted to serve the Union and there were controls over his/its behavior. Sometimes I wasn’t quite sure how to think of the former spec ops commander.

The small room was comfortable but nowhere near as elaborately furnished as I had become used to on the Bright Lance. The holo display that made me feel like we were standing in the void watching impressive star fields was barely taller than I was. On the Bright Lance, they had been massive by comparison, complete with a wet bar and wait staff.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Briggs croaked.

Elise and Path entered and took positions near the door. They remained as inconspicuous as possible. The balance between safety and an accurate check of the Slayer’s behavior was hard to find.

“What’s next?” Briggs asked. “The VR range? Sparring?”

“I’m not excited about sparring with you, I’ll be honest,” I said.

Briggs responded with a rhythmic whistling I thought might be laughter. He didn’t open his mouth to make the sound, rather it emanated from somewhere in his nasal passage.

“If you want to get some exercise, we can do that. Then I need to put you back in the cell. You understand,” I said.

“I understand, Reaper,” he said, then enjoyed the view of space for as long as he could.

8

“We’ve been through five short slip tunnels now, an alarming number even if we were back in known space,” Jelly advised. “We’ve had no further encounters with the Sansein ships.”

“I agree. Have we lost them, or have they figured out a new way to defeat our sensors?” I asked.

Elise shook her head. “Once we discovered how they shift between two dimensions, our ability to detect the presence increased tenfold.”

“What you’re telling me is they could still follow us back to the fleet,” I said.

“Yeah, they could do that. We’re being careful but the Sansein have been full of surprises,” Elise said.

I thought about the benevolent alien, Envoy, who had repaired our ship and given us warnings to avoid the others of his race. We now knew that the alien race Ayers had been trying to replicate were more than a bit pissed off at what we had done. There was no way they would stop hunting us, and if they found the fleet and the rest of the hybrids, there would be hell to pay.

“We need to find a way to test our abilities, to make sure they’re not following us,” I said.

“Commander Briggs has more than once detected their presence through some sort of link we don’t understand,” X-37 said. “Perhaps he can help you avoid our new enemies.”

“We’re not letting him on the bridge,” I said. “Although assigning him as an assistant to Elise has a certain appeal.”

Elise crossed her arms, hitting me with youthful attitude. “Not in this lifetime, Reaper.”

“Patch me into Briggs,” I said, pointedly ignoring her.

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.

A few moments passed before I saw the man squatting in his corner, rocking back-and-forth just enough for the motion to be noticeable.

“Cain for Briggs,” I said.

“What?”

“Can you sense the enemy ships?”

“Not in this instance,” he said.

“How do you sense them when they’re near us?” I asked.

“It is because of the call,” he said. “That is why it would be better to put me into the void. I am constantly compelled to join them.”

“What do you mean call?” I didn’t like where this was going.

“I’m not sure what it is, only that it’s a compulsion to go to them. Perhaps it is so I can serve them, or maybe it’s because they’re going to put me out of my misery,” Briggs said.

“I was feeling pretty good about giving you a chance to join the team, but what you just told me changes things,” I said.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t trust me,” he said. “But if you give me access to sensors, maybe I could do more to find the Sansein.”

“While I recommend caution,” X-37 said, “I also recognize the logic of his statement. He’s not doing you much good in his holding cell.”

“What do you suggest, X?” I asked.

“I took the liberty of consulting with Tom. He can modify one of the Archangel helmets so that it functions as a restraint collar, more or less. We could grant him limited access to certain parts of the ship functions even if we leave him in the cell.”

I looked at Briggs. “There’s no way he can fit that head into a helmet.”

“Tom has taken the helmet apart. There would only be a powered band around the cranium. Of course, if he continues to grow or change shape, there would need to be adjustments,” X-37 said.

“What does Henshaw think of this idea?” I asked.

“He made a comment that you still don’t trust him, but you will allow a monster to run free,” X-37 said. “At the same time, I believe he wants the project to go forward. His desire to interact with the aliens and the hybrids is very complicated, and I’m not sure of his motivations.”

I thought about it for a little while, then explained the proposition to Briggs. He stared at me without looking away the entire time.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Smart. Especially if you can leave me in the cell and give me access to help you. I have a suggestion, however,” Briggs said.

“What kind of suggestion?”

“Rig some sort of explosive charge in the restraint collar, something that will take my head off if you need to put me down. I don’t want to be captured by the Sansein and you don’t want me to betray you. It’s a win-win back up plan.”

“Unless you take the explosives from the restraint band and use them for your own purposes,” I said.

“You have a clever science team, from what I have heard. Before all this happened, there was a lot of talk about Henshaw and even your mechanic,” Briggs said. “They should be able to make something that is tamperproof.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” I said.

Briggs studied me earnestly, all of his attention on my words. One thing was clear, the man was trying his best to remain human and act like a professional soldier despite his condition. “There’s not much else to do here.”

“And you sound more like yourself.”

He considered his response for a long time, then looked at me with his strange eyes. “Having a mission gives me purpose. It helps me remember who I am.”

“I’ll get with Tom and Henshaw and look at this device.”

“Reaper,” he called as I was starting to leave. “I’ll do whatever you want, but you have to promise me never to let Sansein take me. You have to kill me before that happens.”

I looked at him and remembered him as he had been compared to how he was now. “I can do that. You have my word.”

9

“I feel like we’re going in a circle, Jelly,” I said, staring at the red nebula radiating from the holo projector. The scene was beautiful, filling the entire room. “How many systems are inside this cloud?”

“The red nebula is extremely dispersed. Our representation of the system gives the illusion it is closer and denser than it is,” Jelly said. “Much like the last time we were in this region.”

“Sure. I get it. Just let me look at it for a minute,” I said.

“There are many slip tunnels in this region of space. This is an adjacent system in three dimensional terms,” Jelly said. “It was a statistical probability for us to come this way again. If it makes you feel better, I have not been able to detect a single Sansein vessel.”

“Well, since we haven’t exactly mastered not getting snuck up on, that doesn’t help at all,” I said. “Let's do this by the numbers. There’s no reason to rush to failure. Sensors, give me a report.”

Elise tapped her control screen, sending a holographic image up for everyone to see. “Jelly is right; we are in a different place than before. This system has more potential for human survival than most of the others we’ve darted through since we started running.”

“Running is a strong term,” I muttered.

Elise smiled. “Thought that would get your attention. What’s the matter, worried about your Reaper reputation?” She paused to consult her work. “I’m detecting activity on one planet in the green zone.”

“I’m not scared. What kind of activity?”

“It comes and goes,” Elise said. “Just like the Sansein we have encountered.”

“Jelly, activate the stealth cloak. I don’t want to get surprised.”

“Right away, Captain. X-37, Tom, and Henshaw have made great improvements to our stealth capabilities. We will alternate between various frequencies to keep the Sansein or anyone else in this system guessing,” Jelly said. “It will either work brilliantly or fail completely.”

“I like it. Keep me informed,” I said, rapping my fingers on one of the armrest screen pads on the captain’s chair. “Let’s head for that planet and see what we can find out about these Sansein.”

“You are assuming they’ve been to this system and have an outpost on the planet most likely to sustain human life,” Henshaw said. “That’s a dangerous bias error. You’re still assuming they are basically human or humanoid. What if they have different biological requirements, and thus completely unique wants and needs?”

“We’ll answer those questions when we have more information.” I really was the wrong person to contact a dangerous alien race. There had to be someone better trained for the job. “But point taken. I’ll try to think like a face eating, tentacle shooting alien freak that is going through some kind of dangerous change.”

“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm,” Henshaw said.

“I find it refreshing!” Elise said, causing Tom and I to laugh but doing nothing for Henshaw.

I manned the bridge with Henshaw and Elise, having sent Tom and Path to get some sleep so they could take the next shift. What I didn’t tell them was that I wouldn’t be able to close my eyes and would check in during the second shift.

* * *

Twelve hours later we were making a much slower circumvention of the system than I had planned. Henshaw and Elise, working with Jelly’s most advanced sensors, observed something I hadn’t expected: system drones. What interested me was their technology. They seemed much more normal—like something humans could do with a little ingenuity and new, alien inspired advancements.

The rotation we had agreed on had fallen apart. Everyone basically came and went when they were too tired to do it anymore. Had we argued about it a smidge? Sure, but it was pointless. We were all basically grown and headstrong.

“I’m not a very good ship captain, am I, Jelly?” I asked.

“You are one of my favorites, Captain. Why would you say that about your abilities?” Jelly asked.

Elise and Henshaw each turned to hear my answer.

I lit a cigar. It’d been a while, especially since I’d indulged on the bridge. “I’ve just never seen a ship captain with so little control over his crew. Our sleep rotation is shit.”

Elise snorted a laugh and even Henshaw smiled.

“I mean…” I puffed for a second. “Even the people who pretend to take me seriously are doing whatever the hell they want behind my back. Tom’s probably reading a book right now and I would bet a credit chip Path is going through sword forms in the training room.”

“Stop thinking of us as your crew and start treating us like teammates,” Elise said, but she didn’t seem angry. We’d been doing well lately, arguing less and collaborating on ideas more.

“I get it. Give me some credit. I’ve always treated our arrangement like a team, but if I’m supposed to be the captain of the ship, I need to act like it,” I said.

“It’s so cute when the last Reaper starts to show real interest in responsibility and leadership,” Elise said.

“Getting mocked by a teenager isn’t helpful, just so you know,” I said.

“I’ll make a note, Captain sir.” Her reply still lacked the vitriol of our early encounters.

I didn’t mind the change. It was like we were becoming real friends, more like family than most families. “X, I’m getting soft. I barely even want to throttle the kid.”

“My analysis suggests that is an acceptable development in your personality,” X-37 said.

“We’ve got something else,” Elise said, serious now. “No new information on the small, system scanning drone craft, but there seems to be a ship leaving the planet we were heading toward—the planet theoretically capable of sustaining human or humanlike life.”

“Jelly, alert Tom and Path and standby for battle stations. We need to go on high alert right now,” I said. “But skip all the alarms. That shit always drove me crazy in the Union. Just make sure everybody is ready.”

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.

“Cain, this one is coming on strong!” Elise shouted.

I froze, cigar in one hand.

“You are surprised by Elise’s exclamation, Reaper Cain. Probably with good reason. I can recall only three times she has called you anything other than Reaper, and only twice that she has called you Cain,” X-37 said.

At first, the new ship was just an icon coming at us fast enough to promise this was the end. Then it changed course lightly and adjusted speed. I wondered if it was going to toy with us like the ship that had caught Ayers.

“I hate to ask this, Reaper, but what’s it doing?” Henshaw asked.

“It’s either playing with us like we’re its prey or it’s setting a tactical advantage, pushing us toward a bad position and/or another of its kind to catch us in a vice,” I said.

“What do we do about that?” Elise asked.

“I’m working on it.” The days of just being an overpowered assassin suddenly seemed more appealing than they had for a while. This leadership gig was a hot mess.

10

The Sansein ship moved across the system faster than seemed fair but it had limits—and probably an agenda. Asteroid belts slowed its progress and it seemed to be affected by the gravity wells of the larger planets in this system like a normal ship. It wasn’t magical like the imaginary, mythological dragons of Earth. These aliens and their tech had to obey the physical laws of the universe.

An epiphany wanted to break through my consciousness but couldn’t quite enlighten me—our theories about how it used time dilation or dimensional shifts weren’t accurate but were probably as close as we could come to explaining what the Sansein tech was based upon.

“It’s being cautious compared the first ship that attacked us,” I said.

“Agreed. Which means we need to start playing a longer game. We can’t stay on high alert forever,” Elise said. “Next time we roam the galaxy, we might consider a bigger ship with a larger crew. Just a thought. No pressure.”

I glared, but she pretended to work on her sensor readings. “This was easier with the Battle Axe and the Striker of Xad to set up a security sphere.”

“I hope they made it back to the fleet,” she said.

“Everyone wants that, unless they are scouting for a Sansein armada bent on destroying everyone we know,” I said.

“What’s the plan, Reaper?” Henshaw asked. The man knew I didn’t trust him after the debacle on the Bright Lance, and thus he challenged every decision I made to prove he was right and I was wrong.

“We wait.”

“For what?” he demanded.

Elise answered for me, pointing to a new place on the holographic main display. “For whatever just came through that slip tunnel.”

“Could be anything,” Henshaw argued. “The ship pursuing us could easily overtake us before we investigate what or who just entered the area.”

“It knew the second ship was coming, just like Hal said it would,” Tom jumped in. “That raises some very interesting questions about their long-range communications abilities.”

“Or they planned a rendezvous here before we ran afoul of them,” Henshaw said. “Or they got lucky. I prefer science, but respect chance.”

“The rendezvous scenario seems the most possible,” Tom said. “Probable, even.”

“How long before we get a view of the newcomer?” I asked.

“Approximately two hours, assuming we don’t run in the other direction,” Tom answered.

* * *

We didn’t have enough people to escort Briggs to the observation deck. Everyone needed sleep and we had finally agreed on a system of power naps to prepare for our last stand against a technologically superior and incomprehensible enemy.

For some reason I felt Briggs’s insights from someplace other than his cell were important enough to take the risk by myself. He was wearing the restraint collar—headband actually—Tom and Henshaw had designed. This was a calculated risk I hoped paid off.

The moment the former spec ops commander saw the impressive view, he trembled for a second, then seemed at peace.

“There are two Sansein ships in this system. Can you sense them?” I asked.

“With the Archangel cranial band, yes. I know they are here and can estimate their approach vectors,” Briggs said. “Why did you bring me here to this bridge without backup?”

“I need a breakthrough. We’ve tried all the normal things. It’s impossible to outrun them or outfight them and we are a long way from help,” I said.

He trembled, squatted like I had seen him in the cell, then seemed to force himself to stand by force of will. When I studied his nonverbal cues, it was obvious he was terrified but trying to hide the human emotions.

Maybe that was a good thing. It could mean he was holding on to his identity just as I’d hoped.

“I’m glad to be out of the cell. Appreciate you giving me a chance. But take me back,” he said.

“Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“It’s obvious, Briggs. You’re scared shitless. Like you should be. I’d think you were gone if there wasn’t some raw, human emotion behind your actions,” I said.

He shook his head and turned away but then forced himself to face me and what I was saying. “I know you’re right. And I realize it doesn’t matter where I am in the ship. The Sansein are just as likely to capture me from the brig as from the flight deck. But this feels more vulnerable than I thought it would.”

“We need to take chances to win.”

He mastered himself, then held my gaze. “Remember your promise, Reaper.”

I waved off the comment, basically telling him it was nothing—of course I would kill him before face eating, tentacle shooting aliens captured him.

“You weren’t much of a reader in the early days of your career, were you?” Briggs asked.

The question was even stranger and more random in his struggling voice. “No, not really. But I picked up the habit for a while when I was detained in the BSMP.”

“Did you ever come across the etymology of the word archangel or angel?” he asked, the mental effort of this change in the discussion seeming to push back his fears for a moment.

I shook my head that I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.

“Archangels were some sort of grand messengers. The way these units are designed , they should probably be called Reapers, except for the message part,” Briggs said.

“What message?”

Briggs snorted, sounding less human for a heartbeat. “That we’re all going to die.” The last word stretched out against his control.

“That’s grim,” I said.

He took a second to recover his speech. “Most of the time, my thoughts are chaotic and tortured by nonhuman impulses that I must control at all costs. But in the quiet moments, I think a lot and try to remember things.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“I wasn’t much of a reader either,” he admitted. “I saw a professor talking about this shit on the holo net once. Funny thing, I probably pay more attention to the memory than I did when I was actually there.”

“Whatever gets you through,” I said. “What do you think about our situation? Two ships that are faster and more advanced than we are, hunting us in a system we don’t know much about with no chance of reinforcements to help us if it comes down to a fight?”

He remained squatting instead of taking one of the chairs. For several seconds, he stared at the stunning view of this system.

“You know they affect me somehow. What if I go berserk?”

“Then we’ll have one hell of a fight,” I said, pretending more confidence than I felt. Out of my Archangel armor, I thought we were an even match—which was unusual. I’d been created to have an advantage in one-on-one fights—but Briggs had been created for a reason more disturbing than mine, if such a thing was possible.

“They wanted me to be the first Reaper,” Briggs croaked softly. The lower his voice, the more human he was able to sound. “Did you know that?”

I shook my head.

He looked over his shoulder at me.

“I turned them down. Refused every offer they hit me with—if we’re being honest. Told them it felt like cheating,” he said.

“You didn’t refuse because you were required to give up an arm and an eye to join the Reaper Corps?” I asked.

“Maybe that’s fair but you were going to lose your arm anyway. It’s not like you let them take it like the other Reapers. Marley Calus was in perfect physical condition before he let them start sawing off his arm and gouging his eye out.” He stared at the red space clouds on the holo. “I didn’t want to get maimed to do my job. Now look at me. I’d rather give up both my eyes like Henshaw did or even be as ugly as you than volunteer to get maimed.”

“What can you detect with the cranial band?” I asked.

He touched the pale golden ring around his head, then traced where the rest of the helmet would be if his head wasn’t so large. It seemed he longed for something that would have reminded him of his past life—of being human.

“Not much. If you want me to talk to them, I will need to be on the bridge,” he said. “But I don’t recommend direct communication, not with me as a translator. I think they will fly into a rage if they see me. I knew they called me an abomination before you told me that was their name for my kind.”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. I had hoped you might pick up on something from here,” I said, not bothering to tell him I was also testing his reaction to facing me without a pair of geared up Archangels backing me up. “You’re going back to your cell but be ready for something else if I send Elise or Path to bring you to the bridge.”

“Okay, Reaper. I will be ready.”

* * *

By the time we all rallied on the bridge, both of the Sansein ships had closed on our position. Jelly, X-37, and my science team—Tom and Henshaw—worked feverishly to plot two separate courses with any chance of getting us free of them.

It was time for a decision.

“Well?” Elise asked, tapping her foot, but she didn’t care if I saw her nervous habit. She’d been more self-conscious about that sort of thing until this moment.

“There’s a third option,” I said, a plan forming in my mind.

“Third option?” she asked, her expression suggesting she didn’t like where I was taking this. She could read me nearly as well as X-37.

“I call it the Reaper option,” I said with a smile.

This brought a reaction from everyone.

“You’re going to get us killed,” Henshaw said.

“We need to get Ayers back, find out what he told them. As much as I want to stab the guy in the face, he’s probably the one human in the galaxy who knows more about them than he wants to,” I said.

“You want to rescue the one man who betrayed us, and by us, I mean every human in the galaxy,” Elise said.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I know you’re a big, badass Reaper and all, but they don’t scare the piss out of you?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. It was a dumb question. I was a Reaper, not a freaking robot or an algorithm like my LAI. My training just helped me not think about it too much.

“You will need Elise and I if you are going to try and board one of their ships,” Path said. “But I cannot recommend taking the Slayer.”

A chill seemed to spread through the room at the sword saint’s mention of Briggs as a Slayer. That was what the man was now. I needed to remember that important fact.

“I’m not super excited about leaving him here on the ship,” I said.

“I’ll keep the door locked to his cell,” Tom said.

“Jelly, do you think Briggs could break out of there? It’s not an actual detention facility,” I said.

“There is a risk. If you review footage from the Bright Lance when we were hunting fully developed Slayers, they were able to rip apart regular doors and, on more than one documented instance, attempted to destroy blast doors that were interrupted by tactical response teams before we could see their true destructive potential,” Jelly said.

“You have to stay, Path,” I said. “I’d ask the kid to guard him, but I know she’ll give me too much pushback.”

“You’ve got that right,” Elise said. “Not that I appreciate your tone.”

“I will protect the Jellybird and everyone in it from the creature who used to be Commander Briggs,” Path said.

“Now you’ve made it ugly. Thanks.” I headed for the door with Elise right beside me. “We’re going to gear up and work on the plan as we go. I need everyone’s best ideas on how we can steal Ayers back. I’m not calling it a rescue; it’s a capture. The only reason for going after him is that I think it’s the only way we’re going to really know what kind of aliens were dealing with.”

11

“The plan is simple,” I argued, steering my micro-fighter away.

“Doesn’t mean it will work,” Elise said. “The only reason I’m down with this is because it’s better than just dying on the bridge of the Jellybird. Nothing against Jelly. Just seems kind of useless to get snuffed out without fighting back.”

There were a lot of things that could go wrong, not the least of which was running out of fuel. Unlike other engagements we’d been part of, all of the ships in the scenario were moving very fast in basically one direction. Our relative speed only sufficed within certain parameters. If we fell off the pace, or angled away from the current vector, we would have made a very permanent decision without someone to rescue us.

In a way, it was worse than floating helplessly in EVA gear. My concerns about the nebula damaging the small ships had proved unfounded, in the system at least. The size of the red clouds of emission energy and reflective dust was truly beyond my comprehension. Nice to look at with the cigar and whiskey, but a little weird when I was in nothing but battle armor and some wings attached to it.

The micro-fighters were more than that, of course, but that was how I always thought of them. Elise’s plan to use her tiny cockpit to bring the mad doctor back was dangerous, and I wasn’t sure she could pull it off. But of course it was our only chance to do this.

“The Sansein ship we believe has Ayers has taken notice of our approach,” X-37 said. “You have about two seconds before the point of no return with this plan. Update, there is no going back now.”

“That’s what I love about you, X. Always so timely with your information,” I said, steering on a slightly new vector, cognizant of the price of the smallest mistake. The trick was going to be pretending to escape rather than actually escaping and getting stranded.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Reaper? The alien ships seem a lot more solid from inside the micro-fighter,” Elise said. “I’m wondering if some of our problems tracking them have to do with the more complex systems of the Jellybird.”

“This one looks more solid because it’s about to eat us or something,” I said, pretending to escape even as I wished I was really trying to escape despite the consequences of the action.

“We’ve lost contact with the Jellybird,” X-37 advised.

“Oh shit, here it comes!” Elise shouted.

I lowered the volume in my headset and braced myself.

The Sansein vessel was very similar to a normal ship in the front with a long slim structure behind it that reminded me of relaxed tentacles. At times, these things twitched or swiped at the void for reasons I didn’t fathom. Now, they seemed to prepare for something dangerous.

The enemy ship flipped around at the last second, pulled its mechanical tentacles or whatever they were close to its whole, then shot them out all at once, surrounding us in an almost sphere like structure. Blue energy crackled between the white and silver tentacle arms imprisoning us.

“They got us both,” Elise said. “I wasn’t quite sure how that was going to work, but now we know.”

“After this, I’d rather not repeat the process,” I said. “X, can you tell me how it’s drawing us inside?”

“I cannot, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “In time, I believe we might unravel the minutia of the ship’s science and engineering limitations. It is just a ship, even if highly advanced from what we have seen in the Union or from our new allies and their Alon enemies.”

Once we had been pulled into the exact center of our strange new cage, tiny silver drones shot out of what I thought of as a landing bay, even though the term didn’t quite fit.

“We are being scanned,” X-37 advised.

“We expected this,” I said. “Remember, this was a better option than just dying on our ship when they decided to punish us or whatever.”

“You don’t have to sell me on this mission,” Elise said, sounding a little bit annoyed.

“Is the ship attempting communication?” I asked.

“Not at this time, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “The scanning drones seem to be taking an extremely thorough measurement of us, however.”

“I’m so glad we could give away all of our secrets without gaining anything in return,” Elise said.

“Think positive, kid.”

“Not a kid.”

The ship pulled us in and things immediately began to go wrong.

“X, what is happening with the pressure I’m feeling. My Archangel kit normally controls my environment. And… how can gravity pull in more than one direction?” I asked, wanting to vomit.

“The effect will be temporary,” X-37 said. “This ship is very interesting. Unfortunately, I will be limited in the manner and duration of our communication from this point forward.”

“Stay with me, X,” I said, barely recognizing my own words. The transition from outside to inside the ship was about the least comfortable milieu of sensations I’d felt without pain, and it caused me to hallucinate. “I’m feeling odd.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain.”

“And what do you mean it’s an interesting ship? How can you know more about it than I do?” I demanded, looking around for Elise and seeing her micro-fighter frozen like a digital image. Nothing made sense to my overworked brain.

“That is an interesting question,” X-37 said. “If it makes you feel better, Reaper Cain, the strangeness you are feeling will pass. Your ship is being pressurized and the oxygen ratio adjusted to accommodate your biology.”

“That’s damn nice of them,” I mumbled. Spots covered my vision as I realized I had somehow landed the micro-fighter and Elise was already standing in the bay, hands on her knees as she stared at the floor. If she hadn’t been in armor, I would have assumed she was about to vomit—or maybe fight off a bad spell of dizziness.

“It is, Reaper Cain?”

“Why would they do that? Why would hostile, nonhuman enemies adjust their environment when they could defeat us without firing a shot or whatever? And what happened to my Archangel armor? It’s void capable. The environment shouldn’t be affecting me like this,” I said.

“I could say unknown, but that would be incorrect,” X-37 said. There was more but I lost most of what he said despite having his voice in my head.

“You’re being scrambled, X. What’s happening?” I motioned for Elise to follow me into a hallway that was round, a passage with no obvious floor, walls, or ceiling. It was large enough for us to maneuver the armor though.

“Scrambled is imprecise,” X-37 said. “Distracted might be a better description for what is happening to me and the LAI of the Archangel armor.”

“You can’t hide anything from me, X. Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I demanded.

“I often hide or manipulate information in a way that best serves your optimal performance,” X-37 said. “If you remove the Archangel helmet, your senses will be more trustworthy. The Sansein do not like our technology. I believe their primary rivals for control of this sector of the galaxy are machine based, very deadly and invasive.”

Elise faced me, motioning that she couldn’t hear me.

I removed my Archangel helmet and hung it toward the back of my utility belt. She imitated me a few seconds later.

“Did X tell you to take off your helmet? Because that was about the last thing I was going to try on this ship. Not pleasant, really not something I want to do again if we can avoid it,” Elise said.

“Yeah, X told me it would be better.” Deciding that if I were going to be poisoned or suffocated it would be better to get it over quickly, I drew a deep breath.

Elise watched wide eyed for a second, then did the same thing. “Smells like flowers.”

“Not what I expected. Let’s find Ayers before guards show up,” I said. “And don’t say you’re freaked out by the lack of guards.”

The hallway twisted to my left, then dropped. I slid down and around, fighting for balance. “Not my favorite ship design.”

“We’re lucky there are hallways,” Elise said.

“I don’t think they are that different than we are. Envoy had to wear a space suit when he fixed our ship,” I said.

“Sure he did, but he also shot out little tentacle arms or whatever and fixed ten or twelve holes at once,” Elise said, sliding down awkwardly. “Shit, I hate this place. And why aren’t their guards trying to stop us?”

“X, what do you think?” I asked.

No answer.

“What’s wrong with your LAI?” Elise asked.

“He said he was distracted.” I took the lead, breathing in the pleasant-smelling air and pretending it didn’t worry me.

“I am, Reaper Cain.” A pause. “The ship… security, for a lack of a better term… is having trouble with one of the hybrids that awakened despite their attempts to prevent this from happening.”

“Fucking fantastic,” I said.

“Now we have to fight hybrids?” Elise asked.

“Only if you go to another area on this ship, which I don’t recommend,” X-37 said.

“Thanks for the warning. But that’s going to be easier said than done.” I hated the layout of this ship.

The passage grew wider as we searched until it was hard to tell if we were in a passage or a room. The lack of corners was disorienting.

“I think we should put our helmets back on,” Elise said. “Having mine off makes me feel vulnerable.”

“I agree, but let’s try one at a time,” I said.

“Cool.” Seconds after she said the word, she was pulling her helmet on.

“You go first.” I was joking but the words died on my lips as she ripped the helmet back off.

“That wasn’t fun. Very disorienting,” she said, holding one side of the curving wall that wasn’t really a wall.

“Explain it to me. What’s the problem?”

“Looking through the visor is like staring into a kaleidoscope.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

Elise checked to be sure her helmet was securely fastened to her utility harness, then inspected her HDK. “It’s like looking through a crystal that moves, kind of like the view is always collapsing on itself.”

I turned three hundred and sixty degrees to be sure we weren’t being watched, holding my HDK Dominator at the low ready position. “X, can you hear me?”

“With difficulty, Reaper Cain.”

“Do you have an explanation for what Elise described?”

X-37 made several very soft clicks, the meaning of which I didn’t understand but thought might be my LAI’s attempt at politeness—like he didn’t want me to think he was ignoring my questions. “Reaper Cain, I believe the owners of the ship are attempting to communicate with you. I have sent a simple binary code to request they simplify their visual range. Please stand by.”

“Are you talking to X? Can he keep me included in the conversation?” Elise asked.

“I think he’s maxed out right now,” I said. “X?”

“Stand by, Reaper Cain.”

Facing Elise, I explained what X had told me. “What you saw through your helmet might have been an attempt to communicate. X is trying to hook us up.”

“That would be helpful, so we can learn what they’ll do when they catch us,” Elise said.

“You may both don your helmets now,” X-37 said.

“I’ll go first.”

Elise nodded. “Good idea. One at a time like we agreed.”

What I saw when I slipped down the Archangel helmet and clicked the bottom to the armored neck sleeves was amazing. Colors coalesced like the collapsing dimensions of a multi-faceted jewel. After four or five seconds, I detected a pattern, then finally recognized a picture of Ayers in a cell made from what almost looked like crystal. The passage beyond the cell didn’t seem to have a door but only an unguarded opening.

“I see Ayers,” I said. “Elise, put on your helmet.”

She complied at about the same time X-37 announced he was able to translate some of the crystal imagery into words.

“We’re moving to get Ayers, X. Talk to me. What are the Sansein saying?” I asked.

“The Sansein in charge of this ship seems to be demanding the surrender of the abomination,” X-37 said. “They are also demanding we not take Ayers but that we do take Ayers—a binary contradiction I don’t fully understand. It may mean that we should do nothing, or stop, or something similar.”

“Damn it, X, you’re seriously giving me a headache. Remind me never to discover aliens again unless they speak a common language. How exactly are you in communication with anyone from this ship? You can only see and hear what I see and hear, right?”

“There is a crystalline component to your nerve-ware. Each connection point is measured by the size of individual molecules, but there are both insulation and conduction modes embedded in your physiology,” X-37 said.

“Good to know,” I said, not freaking out at all. “What are you saying to them that is keeping them from killing the hell out of us?”

“I told them you are a Reaper, which they didn’t understand, Reaper Cain. Then I explained that you are also an abomination,” X-37 said. “For some reason, this has caused them to avoid direct contact in preference for re-capturing the escaped hybrid that they originally captured with Ayers.”

Elise slid down several feet of the next tunnel then staggered forward into another of the wide areas that lacked contour or reference points. “I see Ayers. There doesn’t seem to be a door. This can’t be right. What kind of prison cell is this?”

“Just grab him and let’s get the hell out of here,” I said, looking for whoever was avoiding direct contact with me. The aliens seemed more than able to fight. I doubted they were afraid of me unless they believed being an abomination was contagious.

“Got him,” Elise said.

Seconds later she appeared with Doctor Ayers over her shoulder. The man thrashed and shouted, almost like he didn’t want to be saved.

“What they hell are you doing? You can’t come in here with that kind of technology!” Ayers shouted. “Put me down!”

“What do you mean, with that kind of technology?” I asked.

“They ignore most of our science, but sometimes they react poorly—like what they did to the Lady Faith,” Ayers said.

“Where is the Lady Faith?” Elise asked. “And what about the hybrids.”

“The ship and my test subjects are quarantined in another part of the ship,” he said. “Now listen to me if you want to live. I’ll call the shots and you just do your jobs, starting by protecting me and my research.”

Elise shifted the man on her armored shoulder for a better grip.

“That is not what I had in mind, girl,” Ayers complained.

“Shut him up. I’m trying to think,” I said.

“Perhaps you should mute the audio input settings of your Archangel gear?” X-37 asked.

“I wish that were an option, but I actually need to get information from him.” I picked up the pace, searching for the landing bay where we had arrived.

“They will not let you go,” Ayers shouted.

“My LAI made a deal with them. They’ll let us go. We’re doing them a favor by disposing of you.” I was lying but the ruse quieted Ayers for a couple of minutes while we activated the regular pilot compartment of the micro-fighters.

The framework of the little ship looked fragile without Elise’s Archangel armor bolstering it. I’d never liked the original design of these little things. And to be honest, I still didn’t believe the option of using it on Ayers as a sort of life pod was going to work.

“That’s not going to work. And I refuse to get in that thing,” Ayers said. “I wanted your help, not your willful ignorance. At this rate, all of the Sansein will want us dead.”

“Elise, pull one of his arms off if he doesn’t get in the cockpit,” I said. “I’ll have to tow both of you until we get clear of the tentacles—if we can get clear.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ayers said.

“Try me,” Elise said.

Ayers climbed into the tiny cockpit of the micro-fighter that had been folded down to allow Elise to connect with her Archangel armor instead of using the cockpit. “This is terrible.”

“It’s better than getting killed,” Elise said, then grabbed the little ship and shoved it out of the alien airlock.

A swarm of Sansein warriors rushed into the tubeway connecting other parts of the ship with the launch bay—or whatever this was. Most of them were carrying weapons.

“I don’t understand how we pulled this off, X,” I said.

“We haven’t escaped yet,” X-37 said. “The Sansein don’t seem to be worried about the speed of the Jellybird and are curious to see an abomination that is not from the genetic material of their own kind. Basically, you’re famous right now.”

“Great,” I said. “Why are they attacking all of a sudden?”

“They have realized I misled them, exaggerating your abilities somewhat,” X-37 admitted. “And they recently destroyed the escaped hybrid that was trying to reach us in this section of the ship.”

“Elise, get moving!” I shouted.

The first wave of Sansein came at me hard, keeping me from attaching myself to my micro-fighter.

“I’ve got the doctor and I’m breaking free of the ship’s energy fields,” Elise said. “The tentacle cage, or whatever it is, seems to be down as well, at least for now.”

“Fantastic.” I shot the first to jump at me in its wide open mouth.

12

“Get your ass out here, Reaper, or I’m coming back in there to help you,” Elise said, her voice loud in my Archangel armor.

“I'll be right there,” I said. “Don't screw up the mission just because I'm probably going to die.”

“Well, which is it? Are you going to die or are you going to be right here?” Elise said, but she didn't sound like she was joking. Frustration radiated through the communication link. “Shit! The Sansein ship tried to grab me. I gotta go, Reaper. You seriously need to get a move on it.”

Two more of the tall, elegant killers advanced, moving their arms in patterns that reminded me of Path doing his sword forms. The big, really disturbing difference was the buds on their arms opening and closing, the sharp tips of their tentacles peeking out like they were looking for a target.

“I hope you're getting all this, X,” I said, shooting my HDK dominator into the growing ranks of my enemies. The smell of flowers overwhelmed my senses, making me think this was some kind of protest from the Sansein. Of course they used the wrong senses to communicate with us; they were freaking aliens.

My first three-round burst slammed into the foremost Sansein’s head, blasting what looked like razor-edged feathers and dark blood into the air. I put the second burst of supersonic rounds into its torso as it twisted and fell at the feet of its brethren. The rounds twisting strangely through the glimmering light that filled the scene.

“At least we know they can be killed by bullets,” X-37 said.

“Was there ever a doubt?” I said, tossing a grenade, then clicking my armor into the micro-fighter. The explosion helped propel me into the void, and I narrowly escaped the ships arms—or tentacles—or whatever they were.

Elise snorted as I caught up to her. “I suppose you think that was pretty smooth.”

“I would be happier if the ship wasn’t matching our pace,” I said.

Normally, the micro-fighters had much greater acceleration over a short distance than larger ships. The Sansein easily matched our pace. It seemed like a matter of time before the crystal like, oddly shaped ship would attempt to recapture us.

“Nothing about that mission went as planned. I’m used to that,” Elise said. “But what I don’t understand is why they didn’t attack us the moment we boarded.”

“My guess,” I said, adjusting my flight vector in hopes of increasing distance from the Sansein vessel, “is that they were busy with the escaping hybrid.”

“Let me ask him about that,” Elise said. A few minutes later she called me again. “He claims the hybrids were sleeping in cryo-pods when he last saw them. The Sansein were going to destroy them. If one escaped, it is news to him.”

“Good to know,” I said. “Maybe they’ll leave us alone if they think the problem was solved.”

“Maybe,” Elise said. “But they know about Briggs and won’t give up easily.”

“If the Sansein thought like humans, we’d be in trouble right now. But maybe they want something else. I get the feeling they are testing us,” I said. “Evaluating might be more accurate.”

“My analysis suggests this is a possibility based on their observable behavior,” X-37 said.

We had almost reached the Jellybird when the Sansein vessel made its move, blocking us from the landing bay.

“Path, get ready to repel boarders,” I said.

“I’m ready for their attack if it comes to that,” Path said, his words so clear I knew he was in his Archangel gear. Our helmets shared a version of an LAI that made communication nearly instantaneous.

“Good. They watched us board their ship, and now I’m worried they were only following us here to be sure this is where we came from,” I said.

“Understood, Reaper,” Path answered. “Tom and Henshaw have rigged some automated guns inside the landing bay—smaller versions of what we have for external point defense. They will assist with the defense of the Jellybird.”

Elise landed first, dumping Ayers unceremoniously to the deck the first chance she had. I hovered with my Archangel enhanced micro-fighter facing the Sansein ship, waiting for something to happen.

“Are you coming inside?” Elise snapped. “Jelly says she will have better maneuvering options once you get in here.”

“I’m coming,” I said, then eased the little craft into the landing bay. By the time I was out, Elise was arguing with the crazy-ass doctor.

“Don’t let them take me back!” Ayers shouted.

“I should just pitch you out an airlock. I don’t even know why the Reaper wants you!” Elise clenched one Archangel fist and shook it at him as she talked.

Ayers shrank backward, bumping into me as I approached.

“I’m starting to agree with the kid. You’re not worth the trouble,” I said.

“She’s not a kid,” Ayers said. “And if you kill me you will never know what they want from us.”

“What do they want from us, Ayers?”

“Well, since you are so aggressive and angry sounding, I don’t think I will tell you.” Ayers stood straighter and brushed himself off.

I picked him up by his throat, which was pretty easy in this gear. “Aggressive and angry is the only way I talk.”

“Please!” He gasped as he grabbed my hand with both of his, attempting to free himself.

I tossed him to Elise. “Lock him up then get back here in case we need to repel boarders.”

“You got it, Reaper,” Elise said.

“Jelly, give me an update on the Sansein ship,” I said.

“The vessel is watching us. Would you like to attempt communication?” Jelly asked.

“Not yet. Check on Briggs,” I said.

“The hybrid has become ill,” Jelly said. “I am worried that he is in communication with the Sansein ship.”

“Godsdamnit.” I ran toward the prisoner area. “Path, let me know if they try anything.”

“I will be here, Reaper,” Path said. “Prepared to fight to the death if necessary.”

“Jelly, I’m on my way but tell me what exactly is happening to Briggs,” I said.

“He went into convulsions and then lost consciousness,” Jelly said.

I ran the rest of the way but paused in the hallway to check the security camera. If this were a proper holding area, there would be guards around the clock and control access to this point. All we had was a modified storage room that made me think, not for the first time, that I might have made a mistake bringing the Slayer. The doors were as stout as anything in a starship. They had to be to keep the ship in one piece if any part of it faced decompression, but that wasn’t the same as having a true prison cell.

The view was hazy because Briggs had smashed the light panels on the ceiling—something a normal person couldn’t have done without tools or a weapon. He writhed on the floor holding his face in his hands. His skin was a darker shade of blue than before and covered with black and gray misshapen spots.

I pressed the talk button beside the door. “Briggs, what the hell is going on? Are you hurt?”

He turned his face upward. “You shouldn’t have brought me, Reaper.”

“I can’t change that now.”

He rolled to his feet and hugged his too-long-to-be-human legs to his chest. “They didn’t understand what you were doing when you boarded their ship. In their culture, going on another person’s ship without permission is like rape or murder. They couldn’t believe their first contact with a sentient race happened like this. You not only violated their sacred vessel but stole something from them.”

“Then why did they adjust the atmosphere for us and talk with images and odors?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Briggs hissed. “How would I know more about first contact scenarios than you? Neither of us know what the fuck we’re doing!”

“We weren’t their first contact,” I argued. “They captured Ayers and his hybrid Slayers.”

“The way they see things, that is different. They contacted him, chose to restrain him for…something like a trial. Or maybe an experiment.” Briggs rocked harder now, eyes locked on the floor between his feet. He looked like a scared kid.

“They’re talking to you?”

“It is more like they’re screaming at me to just die,” Briggs said. “I’m one of the abominations. In their eyes, I’m pure evil.”

I hesitated.

“If you are expecting me to have a reassuring comment, Reaper Cain, I’m afraid you will be disappointed,” X-37 said.

“Don’t worry about it, X. I’ve got this.” Like it or not, I had a certain kinship with Briggs now. We were both the ultimate form of outcast, made to be used and cast away. I had to be careful with my compassion because there still seemed like a pretty good chance he would eat my face at some point in the not-too-distant future.

“Why didn’t they just blast the micro-fighters out of the galaxy?” I asked.

“Not sure,” Briggs said, rubbing at his head, neck, then arms like he wanted them gone. “My head hurts. I feel like my blood is boiling.”

“Jelly, give me an update on the Sansein ship,” I said.

“It circled us several times then backed off,” Jelly said. “I think it measured us and decided to wait before taking further action. There is no reason why it should do this. My estimation of their technology suggests they could know all there is to know about the Jellybird in seconds.”

“Okay,” I said. “Alert me when something changes.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“What about you, X? I could use some help.”

X-37 made some of his clicking and humming sounds—almost inaudible—that he used to fill silence while processing a heavy data load. I hadn’t always known what this was, but he had explained it was his version of politeness—which needed some serious work, let’s be honest.

“I apologize, Reaper Cain. There is a surprising lack of useful data on how to address a true alien race,” X-37 said. “The Union’s basic protocol, from where I draw a lot of my foundational sub-routines, really only provides two options: dominate or destroy.”

“I should have seen that coming, X,” I said. “Work on it. I’ll be heading to the bridge in a second.”

Turning back to the cell view screen, I considered the former spec ops commander for several moments. “You’re not evil, Briggs.”

His laughter sounded nearly human then devolved into something horrible. “Fuck, Cain, that’s the best you can do?”

“Yeah, Briggs, that is the best I can do. I’ve been the Union’s dark secret a lot longer than you have. Give me some credit. I know how bad this sucks.”

“I’m not even human anymore, Cain. Don’t fucking tell me you understand what I’m going through.”

“Yeah, sure. Fine. But I’m the only godsdamn person you’ll ever meet with any chance of sharing some real empathy,” I said. “Take it or leave it.”

This time, when Briggs laughed, it sounded more human and a little bit sad. “Here I am at the end being comforted by the last Reaper.”

“Reaper Cain, I must interject with a slight warning regarding my ability to conduct an analysis on the subject,” X-37 said. “Please do not request me to determine the difference between good and evil, especially not the manner in which it intersects with human behavior.”

“No problem, X. I don’t want to shut you down with that type of overload. Let Jelly know I’m heading back to the bridge and ask if there is any new information.”

“No new information,” X-37 said. “The Sansein ship seems to be waiting on something.”

First they steal Doctor Ayers—which I’m okay with in isolation. Then they allow us onto their ship but try to kill us as we were leaving, toying with us just so they can torment Briggs at close range,” I said.

“Was that a question, Reaper Cain?”

“No, X. I’m just thinking out loud.”

“This is actually somewhat helpful to me, Reaper Cain. Please continue the practice.”

“Fuck, X. That’s going to make me sound like a crazy person.”

I’d had the limited artificial intelligence wired into my nerve-ware for a long time and was still surprised by the LAI’s abilities and limitations.

* * *

The Sansein ship shimmered like an otherworldly mirage, moving to block our progress whenever we attempted to change course and accelerate.

But it didn’t attack. Yet.

Which was good. For now.

Everyone on the bridge of the Jellybird looked tired as hell. I felt like I’d been attacked by monsters, chased through the void, and dumped into a deeply emotional interview with a past acquaintance who was morphing into a deadly monster. Was he pure evil, made only for killing and terrorizing the Union’s enemies? Was he a newer, stranger version of me my old masters had lost control of?

Probably.

Even this far into uncharted space, the fucking Union was giving me a godsdamned headache.

“How is our translation software?” I asked.

“Much improved,” X-37 advised. “Jelly and I have been working on it in the background without stopping, despite recent events.”

“Excellent.”

Elise leaned back from her sensor station. “These things are super creepy—just staring at us.”

“Maybe that’s how intergalactic conflicts should be settled, by staring contests,” I said. “We could all take lessons from Path. Before long, we’d be feared throughout the galaxy for our ability to not blink.”

Elise snorted laughter. Tom and Henshaw also chuckled.

“Human inhabited ship,” the translated voice of a Sansein spoke. “Jettison the abomination so that we may reclaim it and render it to molecules.”

I looked at my crew. Elise and Tom seemed ready to fight—each in their own way, of course. Henshaw, despite his affinity for the hybrid project and all the things he had done to take control of it, appeared to consider the alien’s demand carefully. I was sure he would surrender Briggs or any other test subject to avoid the wrath of the Sansein.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I answered. “How can we settle this and work together in peace? Our races don’t have to be enemies.”

“Good try, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately.

Not in the mood to be patronized, I ignored my limited artificial intelligence’s further comments by using a protocol I could initiate during combat situations—just to keep my head clear of distractions.

“What is peace?” the Sansein asked.

“That’s where we don’t slaughter each other and take each other’s stuff,” I answered without thinking, probably not the best decision given the situation, but why change now? “Do you have a name?”

“The concept of name is good,” the voice said. “It is known that you refer to one of our kind as Envoy. What does this mean?”

“It’s interesting they’ve had communication with Envoy despite the distances involved,” Tom said on our private channel.

I answered the Sansein. “An envoy is a messenger, usually non-aggressive. Someone who talks.”

“Yes,” the Sansein voice said. “Envoy talks. The name is useful and not evil.”

“Wow, kind of harsh,” Elise says.

Henshaw uncrossed his arms and sat up from the slouch he had adopted in his bridge chair. “They are a binary race, I think. Which is going to be a blessing or a boon.”

“The Sansein will either be completely for us or completely against us,” Tom added.

“Good,” I said. “Not being evil is good.”

“You understand much.” The Sansein ship shifted, probably to line up a better kill shot with our luck. “Which makes your behavior unforgivable. What is your name so that we might record the identity of the ones who violated the sanctity of our ship?”

“You see, that is a trick question—impossible to be answered. I’m not admitting to that kind of blanket accusation. I am prepared, however, to make counter accusations.” Every member of my crew shot me looks. Apparently, they thought I was going to start an intergalactic war of annihilation between humans and Sansein.

“There is validity in your argument. What your scientist says about our binary nature is not true. We were binary before we experienced the change. Now we are more complex but enjoy clear answers better than those that are not,” the Sansein said.

“Good to know,” I said. “Still didn’t catch your name.”

“Catch?” the Sansein asked. “Please wait while we work on the translation.”

“Good luck,” X-37 muttered.

“Call me Slayer,” the Sansein said.

“Yeah, that is kind of already taken. What else do you have?” I asked.

“Are you trying to get us all killed, Reaper?” Elise snapped on the private channel.

“One moment,” the Sansein said without seeming to take offense.

“It’s okay. I know what I’m doing,” I said.

Elise didn’t back down. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Going with my gut. Call it instinct,” I answered.

“Holy shit, we are going to die,” Henshaw said.

“Human words are proving insufficient,” the Sansein voice said. “Call me Coranth.”

“Okay, Coranth,” I said. “Let’s negotiate.”

“Turn over the abomination and return the one who created them. Then I will purge you and your ship from this system and leave,” Coranth said.

“And you all thought I was a bad negotiator,” I said to my crew. “I like parts of your plan but some of it needs work. Just trying for full transparency, here.”

Coranth sounded annoyed and a bit confused. “Transparency?”

“He’s worse than you, X,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I must sympathize with Coranth’s frustration, however. The way you talk makes little sense most of the time,” X-37 said.

“Jelly, please tell me you figured out how to use our stealth cloak against the Sansein,” I said.

“I have adjusted our frequencies, Captain. They will defeat my efforts in less time than is optimal, but there is a window of opportunity to leave this location if that is what you want.”

I checked with my crew. “Thoughts?”

“I vote for getting the hell out of here,” Elise said. “We need to make sure we don’t lead them right back to the rest of the fleet when we make our escape.”

Henshaw chimed in next. “None of this has been ideal, but I admit staying here only seems like a good way to die. Maybe we should give back Doctor Ayers and surrender Briggs to buy some time.”

“Maybe we should surrender you,” Elise snapped.

Henshaw stared at her, aghast. “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would they want me?”

“I don’t care whether they want you or not. You’re just very annoying,” Elise said.

“Everyone shut up,” I said. “We’re not giving Ayers back. I haven’t had a chance to question him. And Briggs stays with us. I’m not sure what they mean by reduce them to molecules, but I can kill him myself if I need to.”

“Can you?” Elise asked.

I didn’t answer her. “Jelly, get us the hell out of here.”

“Right away, Captain. Activating stealth protocol and evasion tactics now.”

It didn’t seem like much happened at first and I worried that we had miscalculated. Then, as luck would have it, we were cruising away as Coranth screamed something unintelligible.

“See,” I said to Elise and the others. “Easy as pie.”

“My analysis suggests it won’t work a second time and that the effect of our escape will be shorter than you would like,” X-37 said.

“Thanks for ruining it, X,” I said.

13

Contrary to my limited artificial intelligence’s pessimism, we managed to exit the system without difficulty. Knowing whether or not Coranth was in close pursuit was a bit trickier but we decided it was best to act as though the Sansein was hot on our trail.

“We have entered a slip tunnel that should not take us too near the fleet,” Jelly said. “I am still piecing together our star map of this sector. Other than remaining in stealth mode, I don’t believe there is much else for us to do until we reach the next opening.”

“Good. I need a nap,” I said, leaning back in my captain’s chair.

“You need thirteen point five hours of sleep,” X-37 said.

“I may actually agree with you, X,” I admitted.

“Which, of course, is no guarantee you will act upon my infinitely sound advice,” X-37 said.

“I volunteer to go first.” Elise turned the words into a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m doing that. We just pissed off a Sansein and nearly died about twenty times.”

“Elise, it is possible that your body has been operating at peak efficiency for too long and now you are going to crash,” X-37 said on the bridge channel for everyone to hear. “You should also sleep, although I lack direct measurements of your biometrics to give you better advice.”

“That’s okay, X. Thanks,” I said.

“I’m rested,” Tom said. “I can stay on the bridge.”

“I’ll stay as well,” Henshaw said. “There is so much new data to review. I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to.”

“Great. Jelly, can you check on Path and make sure he isn’t dead on his feet?” I asked.

“He is alive, Captain. Shall I convey your orders that he sleep while he can?” Jelly asked.

“Leave that up to him.”

“Of course, Captain. But there is a complication. X-37 asked me to keep this from you until you have rested, but my own ship safety protocols override politeness.”

“What is it, Jelly?” I wasn’t the only one anxiously waiting for her answer.

“Briggs has become ill again,” Jelly said. “This time seems worse than before.”

“Does that mean Coranth has found us?” I asked.

“Unknown,” Jelly answered.

“I’ll check on him,” I said.

Elise popped out of her chair. “I’ll go with you.”

I hesitated, then waved for her to follow. “Tom, you have the conn.”

A short time later, we arrived at the makeshift brig and found Path vigilantly standing guard.

“How are you, Path? Do you need a break?” I asked.

“I am tired. This has been a trying ordeal for everyone,” he said. “If you think you and Elise can handle the prisoner, I will sleep nearer possible breach points in anticipation of being boarded.”

“Good call, Path. Grim, but definitely a good call. I appreciate you,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper. I know this,” he said.

Elise and I faced the prisoner room, activating the view screen to see what was wrong with Briggs. We observed him curled in the corner, trembling violently.

“I’m using Jelly’s sensors of this room to reconnoiter the hybrid’s condition,” X-37 said. “I cannot detect anything out of the ordinary.”

“You think he’s faking?” I asked.

“That is a possibility, Reaper Cain.”

Elise frowned. “That’s weird.”

“Yeah, but what do we really know about the care and feeding of a hybrid Slayer tortured by slip tunnel travel and our confrontation with Coranth?” I asked. “Let me do most of the talking. If I get stuck, I’ll pass it to you and stand back.”

“That’ll work,” Elise said.

I opened the door and entered. Elise remained in the doorway. This was dangerous, because if Briggs was faking and managed to overwhelm us, he’d be free to roam the ship and cause problems.

Probably wouldn’t matter much to Elise or me because we’d be dead.

“Briggs, what’s wrong with you?” I asked.

He moaned.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Are you getting worse or just faking?”

“I can’t take this anymore,” Briggs said. “I have to get out of here. Take me back to the observation deck. Anyplace but here.”

“I don’t like it,” Elise whispered behind me.

Neither I nor X-37 liked it either but I didn’t want to get into a big discussion while I was trying to keep my attention on Briggs. “I can take you for a walk, but I need to get Elise or Path into their Archangel gear.”

Briggs twisted and screamed with such force that I had to cover my ears, and that was saying something. Elise cursed behind me. Without looking, I assumed she was doing the same thing I was.

“Just let me get some air. Stretch my legs. Anything!” Briggs begged.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I said.

“What are you talking about?” Briggs’s eyes looked confused and desperate as he turned to face me.

“No more screaming, or whatever the hell that was,” I said, then snapped my arm blade out. “And if you think you’re going to try anything funny, think twice.”

He considered the blade for a few seconds, then nodded.

“Elise, how fast can you get to the armory and back in your gear?” I asked.

“I can’t wait that long, Reaper. I’m dying. Slip tunnels and that Sansein hunter you were talking to are pushing me over the edge,” Briggs said.

“I don’t like leaving you here with him, but I’ll hurry,” Elise said. “Of course, you could just shut the door and wait for me.”

“Please,” Briggs begged, his face trembling and his body twisting this way and that like he couldn’t sit still. He reminded me of a drug addict being forcibly detoxed.

“I’m sorry, Briggs. I can’t risk the entire ship,” I said, motioning for Elise to back out of the room.

For several heartbeats, it seemed like Briggs might rush us. He came to his feet, crouched in something like a fighting stance, and started breathing heavily. It looked like his arm buds were about to shoot tentacles at me and he was making fists with both hands.

“Settle down, Briggs. Elise, run and get back here as quick as you can,” I said after I’d shut the door to the makeshift prison cell.

Briggs lunged, but then took control of himself. “I’m sorry, Reaper. I have to get out. I have to! I need to look at something other than this cell. You’ve got to understand what I’m talking about.”

Elise sprinted away as I attempted to talk down the former spec ops commander. “I know all about confinement. My time on death row at BSMP was a lot longer than you’ve been in here.”

Briggs paced with a feral desperation I hadn’t seen in him before. Several times I thought he would punch the wall or try to force the door. Every second or third lap, he moved close to the camera and snarled at me. “What do you think will happen, that I’ll force you to kill me?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” I said. “It’s just not a good time. We’re in the middle of a slip tunnel transit and don’t know whether or not we are being followed.”

“Of course you’re being followed!”

“So you understand why this isn’t a good time.” Briggs was starting to get on my nerves and I felt bad for being annoyed with him. The best possible thing that could happen to him, I had to admit, was that he would just die before he lost his humanity completely. But I wanted to believe his mind was intact. If I thought he was a true slave to the Sansein, I would’ve granted his wish to die already.

“I'm not going to do anything,” Briggs said, moving close to the door camera.

Viewing the extreme close-up disturbed me. There were parts of his countenance I hadn't noticed before now. At times, I couldn't decide whether he was more human or more Sansein. Thin layers of scales fluttered up from his head like hair, or Sansein razor-feathers. When he was in control of himself, these features sucked down against his bald scalp.

“Please, Reaper,” he said. “I know we weren't friends, but we were brothers in arms for most of our careers.”

“Don't panic, Briggs. I'm getting you out of there. Just wait a minute.”

“I've been waiting,” he said, but rather than sound angry, he sounded like he was giving up.

“Don't get soft on me now, Briggs,” I said.

“I'm coming,” Elise said. “Path is on the way as well.”

“Negative. Have him stay where he is. If Briggs is being affected by Coranth it could be the prelude to an attack on the ship. He needs to be ready to defend against boarders.”

“There is another option,” Path said. “Bring him to the loading bay. There is a place to view outside the ship and there is room for him to walk about. If he has cabin fever, it should help. I find gazing at the stars puts me in touch with my humanity. Perhaps that is what he needs.”

There were several reasons why I didn't like this idea, but I didn't like anything about what was happening today. So maybe the landing bay was as safe as any other option, especially with three people to guard him, two of them in full Archangel gear.

“Almost back to you,” Elise said.

“That was a quick turnaround.”

“You're welcome,” Elise said. “But now you have to admit I'm the fastest with the Archangel armor. You can thank me later.”

Briggs hopped on the balls of his feet and made animal sounds. There wasn’t any doubt he was suffering. I wanted to help him even if I had to make the ultimate choice for him.

Elise stepped into the hallway, standing well over six and a half feet tall in the steel gray armor without the double blue stripes down her sleeve I’d seen last time. “I’m here, Reaper. Let’s do this.”

Resisting the temptation to ask her why she continuously altered the appearance of her armor, I touched the lock control. “I’m opening the door, Briggs. Step back to the far wall.”

“Stop fucking around!” Briggs grunted, his words barely intelligible.

“My way or no way,” I insisted.

He retreated, then squatted near the far wall but remained facing me. This was different than his past behavior—another mark of his desperation. Apparently, he no longer needed to jam his face into the corner to wallow in regret over what had become of him.

I opened the door, resisting the urge to snap out my arm blade. If this became a fight, it might be the best option, but I would decide when push came to shove. My sidearm might be better even in this confined space.

“I’m coming out, Reaper,” Briggs said.

“We’re waiting,” I said. “Just follow Elise and do what I say. We’ll take you where you can walk and clear your head. All you have to do is promise to tell me when Coranth reaches out for you.”

“I will,” Briggs said. “This is a small ship. The only place to do that is the loading bay you turned into a flight deck.”

“Should I be worried you know that?”

“Like I said, Reaper, I’ve had a lot of time to think. That’s why I’m getting stir crazy.”

“Maybe Tom will loan you a book,” I said. No one laughed.

“Something’s wrong,” Elise said.

I put one hand to my ear then used a series of subtle hand movements to communicate with X-37, who relayed the message to Elise. I was getting the same bad feeling.

“Path, be ready for anything,” I said. “We’re almost there.”

“Last door, then we’re on the flight deck,” Elise said.

I motioned for her to continue and kept most of my attention on Briggs. He was huge, agitated, and unrecognizable as the man I had argued with in the warden’s office of the Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison before all this began.

The loading bay/converted flight deck was cramped with storage crates and the micro-fighters. At the far end, the exterior doors were closed and the containment field that would keep us inside even if it were opened was also in place.

Path adjusted his position so that we kept Briggs in the center of a triangle. At first, nothing much happened. Briggs squatted in the center of the deck and made sounds that might have been sobs.

“I hate what Ayers did to him,” Elise said privately.

“Yeah.” I intended to say more but couldn’t find the words.

“Hal, would you like me to bring your armor?” Tom asked.

“That’s a great idea, Tom. Thanks.”

“Thanks, Reaper,” Briggs growled. Something tore in his throat when he spoke the last word. He said more, but I couldn’t understand it.

“Captain, the Sansein ship has reappeared and is behaving erratically,” Jelly said.

“Shit.”

“It is very close and hitting us with very intense scans, like an animal sniffing prey,” Jelly said.

“Let’s get Briggs back to his cell,” I said. “Godsdamn it, Briggs. If you did this on purpose, I’m going to make you pay.”

“No, Reaper, you won’t,” he said. “You have to kill me now.”

Tom arrived with my armor.

“Thanks, Tom. Hold onto it for a second,” I said.

“I’m not going back into that cell, Reaper. Coranth will destroy you and the ship to get me. Unless you just do your fucking job. Be a Reaper. Stop trying to be a fucking hero!”

“Well, fuck,” I said. “Tom, help me gear up. I think we’re about to be boarded.”

“Too late, Reaper,” Briggs said. “They’re coming.”

An alert klaxon sounded throughout the Jellybird. It was so loud it vibrated my teeth. Both Jelly and X-37 warned me that a hull breach and decompression of this area was imminent.

I’d basically figured out something bad was about to happen when Briggs started his inhuman wailing and Tom looked white as a sheet.

I opened the Archangel armor like a clamshell, grabbed my mechanic, and shoved him into it. Seconds later I had him shut safely inside.

Something I couldn't see at first ripped open the bay doors. The arms of the Sansein ship snaked inside with the fluidity of an animal but the strength of an industrial machine, straining the alloy and ceramic sections of the door.

Closer to where I stood, Briggs fell to his knees, convulsing. When he twisted his face upward, I could tell he was reasserting his humanity. Even though his eyes were still strange and multifaceted, I could feel him looking at me, searching for understanding like the truth was burning him.

“Our problems are about to end,” he said, then snarled as pain tortured his twisted form.

“Reaper, you need to get into an airlock,” Elise shouted. Atmosphere began to vent from the room. I felt myself slipping across the deck but saw that Briggs wasn't having the same problem. His hands and feet had better traction. When he was finally pulled away from his position, tentacles shot from his arms and latched onto a row of shipping rings normally used to tie down cargo.

“A little help!” I shouted.

Elise flung herself across the room in her Archangel armor, grabbing me by my wrists and seizing me with such force that I was flung facedown onto the deck.

Stars danced across my vision as the atmosphere rushed past me to escape the ship. There was a lot of oxygen rich air in this room and it took time for it to completely vent.

I heard Tom shouting for Jelly to get the door closed before they came in. I wondered if he was able to move in the armor, but at least hearing him I knew he was safe.

“It is too late to keep them out,” Path said. “I will fight them, Elise, but I will need your help soon.”

“Give me the Reaper,” Briggs said, working his way across the deck with his inhuman appendages.

Elise hesitated, then handed me over. The Slayer grabbed me by my neck—a slightly better fate than getting blasted into the void.

“Jelly is working on a way to close the door,” X-37 told me. “It will take seventy-eight seconds.” My analysis of your biometrics suggests it is possible to hold your breath, but it will be uncomfortable.”

I didn't say anything, because, air.

“Congratulations, Reaper,” X-37 said. “You now owe the Slayers your life. I have to admit, this turned out better than I'd hoped despite that inconvenient debt.”

My LAI’s lame sarcasm aside, I could now see a little bit of what was happening. The situation was disorienting but I saw that the bay door was slowly closing—finally. Unfortunately, there were four Sansein warriors striding across the deck in armor that gripped the deck as easily as an Archangel unit could.

“They sent one for each of us,” Briggs growled. I felt him tense like he wanted to get into the fight. Something told me he resented having to babysit me. The man had been a warrior, and being turned into a half human half alien hybrid killing machine hadn't calmed him down any.

Path flashed forward with his blade, obviously attempting to take two of the Sansein on simultaneously. Elise went for the other two.

The ship rocked sideways as the enemy attempted to stop the doors from closing. I couldn't hear much but thought the struggle between the Jellybird and the Sansein ship was horrific and likely to get us all killed.

The first Sansein rushed at Path, feinting high then ducking low and tackling him at the knees. Its partner jumped into the air and slammed one of his knees into Path’s head. All three combatants tumbled out of my view.

The confrontation between Elise and her two enemies pulled my attention elsewhere. I hadn't been able to watch it begin, but now they were wrestling across the deck, limbs and tentacles and weapons flashing chaotically.

“Jelly, get that door closed!” I shouted.

“The Sansein ship is trying to stop me,” Jelly said.

“I'm going to help you, Jelly,” Tom said.

I twisted against Briggs's grip to see what my mechanic was trying to do to get himself killed. What I witnessed was a slow, uncoordinated march across the deck toward the door. If my mechanic made one wrong move, he would find himself outside the ship and beyond rescue.

“Tom, watch your ass!” If I didn't get back in the mix soon, I was going to lose my shit. The inability to take action was torture. Now I understood what it meant to see red.

The doors were almost closed, but that only intensified the speed of the decompression. My runaway imagination saw a plume of oxygen and other gases venting away from the Jellybird. The drag these forces exerted on me was less and less as the last of the air dissipated.

Briggs bounded away from me, intent on joining the fight. Holding my breath, I staggered to my feet. Tom clomped awkwardly to the door and pulled on it, helping Jelly shut it.

“I’m forcing breathable air into this section of the ship as fast as I can, Captain,” Jelly promised. “It will take some time.”

One of the Sansein was holding Elise down while the other ripped off her helmet. She screamed in pain at the unnatural angle this twisted her neck.

I sprinted across the deck, no longer giving a fuck about how much air I had and dove at Elise's attackers. My Reaper Blade flashed out when I was in midair. When I struck, I thrust it through the neck of one of the aliens. Bright red blood flashed up from my strike as I collided with my target, wrapping my right arm around its armored torso and taking it to the ground.

It was hard to see what Path and the Slayer were doing to fight the others.

Helmetless now, Elise regained her feet, looked for a rifle, and found it gone. Without hesitation, she drew her sword and came running toward me and the Sansein I was struggling with.

Her blade slashed, decapitating the armored creature I was barely holding away from killing me.

Half a second passed. She brought her sword around to hold it ready for the next fight even as she reached for me with her other hand.

“Need some… help…” Her aggressive, battle charged smile faltered as she realized our shared problem. The air Jelly was pushing into the bay wasn’t coming fast enough.

She pulled me up anyway. We both staggered from oxygen debt. Time dragged out for painful seconds before we could talk.

I turned in a circle to check for enemies. “Path killed one, we each killed one—”

“Where the hell is Briggs and the last Sansein?” Elise demanded, leaning one hand on a knee as she tried to inhale enough air to get caught up.

“Briggs is outside the ship,” Jelly advised. “He attacked one of the boarders that was about to shoot Path in the back with an unknown weapon and they went outside moments before Tom managed to shut the bay door.”

“I’m sorry, Hal. I couldn’t stop them,” Tom said.

“Would you like to see the replay?” Jelly asked.

“Jelly, get a lock on Briggs with the point defense guns and fire. Do it now,” I said.

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“Yes, Jelly. I’m sure. I made a promise.”

“I cannot get the proper angle,” Jelly advised.

“Ram them if you have to,” I said, hurrying toward Tom with spots growing in my vision again. “I need my armor.”

“Okay, Hal. I’m trying to open it now,” Tom said. “One second. Operating this gear is a lot harder than you make it look.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Reaper?” Elise demanded.

“I’m going out there to kill Briggs.”

“Bullshit!” she said. “This is over.”

“The Sansein ship is moving to intercept it’s warrior and Briggs,” Jelly advised.

“Tom! Give me my armor and get to an airlock!” I was losing my cool and felt like a jerk for yelling at him.

Path and Elise were standing near me by the time I was locking my armor and attaching the helmet. I was fast, but time seemed to be working against me.

“Jelly, give me an update,” I said.

“You have less than one minute to intervene if that is your intention,” Jelly said.

“Persisting with this course of action could risk the entire ship,” X-37 interjected. “My analysis suggests we should flee immediately.”

“I made a promise.” My Archangel armor signaled it was ready. I strode to a small maintenance airlock on one side of the bay and stepped inside.

“Path and I are coming with you,” Elise said.

I shut the door on them, then crawled onto the exterior of the ship.

“Reaper!” Elise shouted and cursed.

“X, mute the all comms with my foul mouthed friends,” I said.

“Done, Reaper Cain. Although I should point out that it is mostly just Elise who attempts to match your proclivity for profanity.”

Pulling my HDK Dominator from the clamp on the back of my armor, I aimed. There wouldn’t be any drop from gravity or atmosphere, but the shot was a long one and this environment wasn’t my specialty. “Give me a little help with this, X.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I’ve adjusted your aiming reticule to account for several factors you probably have not considered,” X-37 said.

“Thanks.” I fired one careful shot at a time, slamming rounds into Briggs as the Sansein ship swooped in to pick him and the Sansein warrior up.

“I’m unable to determine if those were fatal shots, Reaper Cain.”

I started my breathing, wondering if I shouldn’t have spared a few rounds for the Sansein who’d captured Briggs. “Show me a replay of my best three shots.”

The quality in my HUD wasn’t the greatest. I could use one of Jelly’s holos later while I was sipping whiskey and smoking cigars and wondering if I’d made the right choice. Most of the shots hit, I could see that. And I knew they were well placed. No normal person could survive getting dragged through the void and the punishment of an HDK Dominator.

But what the fuck did I know?

“I’m coming inside,” I said. “Let’s get the hell out of this system.”

* * *

“None of this is my fault,” Ayers said, crossing his arms and sitting back in the interrogation room chair. It wasn’t durable, since it wasn’t really designed for this purpose. An actual Union interrogation room would be equipped with prisoner chairs that could take a lot of abuse. This one would tip over or break the first time I punched him—so I didn’t waste my time.

My entire body ached from the fight against the Sansein boarders. I couldn’t stop thinking about shooting Briggs. From a technical standpoint, it was some seriously brilliant shooting—given the environment, or lack thereof, and the range. Emotionally, I didn’t know what to feel.

The answer was obvious. I was a Reaper. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

“It’s a little bit your fault,” I said. “Unless someone else on the ship created hybrid mutants that pissed off the first truly nonhuman aliens we’ve encountered in however long we’ve been trying.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Ayers said. “There was an entire team who handled the psychological profiles of the test subjects. I can’t be held responsible for Briggs’s weakness.”

“Weakness!”

“Be careful, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “True anger during an interrogation never yields a desirable result.”

“That man was about a hundred times stronger than you will ever be,” I said, regulating my breathing and trying to take my limited artificial intelligence’s advice.

Ayers, surprisingly, looked abashed. “I was never a fighter. That’s why I had to learn to use my mind, which I think will be of a much greater benefit to humanity in the long run.”

“Assuming your experiments didn’t just earn all of us a death sentence,” I said. “I don’t know if you remember that much about your captivity, but the Sansein seem more advanced than we are.”

“That is not entirely correct,” Ayers said.

“Their ships are faster, their technology is mind-boggling, and without armor, even the best Union soldier would probably die quickly in hand-to-hand combat,” I said. “Four of them nearly killed us all—and I am guessing there will be a lot more of them next time.”

“Are you doubting your prowess, Reaper?” Ayers asked.

“I really should punch you once to see if the chair holds,” I said.

“What does the chair have to do with your unreasonable use of violence in an otherwise rational discussion?” he asked.

“Last time I hit someone in this type of situation, it sent him through the chair and into the far wall,” I said. “And broke the man’s jaw. Since I want you to keep talking, I’m gonna wait until we’re done to do that.”

Ayers’s eyes darted around the room like there might be a way to escape. It was an animal response, interesting for a person who prided himself on being more rational than anyone else in the galaxy.

“We went to a lot of trouble to rescue you, and it wasn’t because I like you,” I said. “I need to know everything you know about the Sansein and how to protect the people I care about from them.”

“When I said they were not godlike in their advancement, I merely meant that they have needs just like humans have needs,” Ayers said.

“I’m not following you, but I also don’t think I’m going to like where this is going,” I said. X-37, for once, had nothing to add or hypothesize. Maybe he was still analyzing the conversation.

“They have incredible technology, but as you might expect, this makes them overconfident. They toyed with me and my guards when we were first captured,” Ayers said. “Just like I imagine they toyed with you, probably letting you onto their ship to see what you would do and then punishing you for violating rules you were never made aware of—namely that the ships are sacred and that a single step upon them earns a dire punishment.”

“What happened to your guards, exactly?”

“The Sansein have caloric needs,” Ayers said.

“Analysis complete,” X-37 said to me privately. “Many parts of this puzzle have now fallen neatly into place.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said without thinking. “We’ve come all this way to encounter a technologically advanced nonhuman race and they are face eating aliens?”

“That is not at all what they are,” Ayers said, sounding almost indignant. “Despite their appearance and the way they fight, they don’t just drop on their prey and tear it apart like an animal. They put it in cold storage first.”

“I really need to punch you,” I said.

“There is a possibility that I am misinterpreting the very limited evidence I have of what happened to my crew,” Ayers said. “But the Sansein appeared to be better nourished after my men disappeared. And I don’t know what happened to the hybrids either. They were in cryo-pods last I knew.”

I processed what he was telling me, not liking the implications.

“If they require evidence of our so-called crimes against the race, they already have it. I suspect they will take the hybrids back to their home world or wherever they are from to prove humans should be destroyed,” Ayers said.

“You have a way of making a really bad conversation worse,” I said. “You’re basically saying that we’re now engaged in a war of annihilation whether we want to be in one or not.”

“Perhaps,” Ayers said. “I do know that they asked a lot of questions about where I was from and seemed very interested in our fleet. Perhaps you should do your duty and return to our people and protect them.”

“First of all, it’s not our fleet or our people. It’s my fleet and my people. You are not part of it anymore,” I said.

“But I’m your prisoner and you will protect me,” Ayers said. “Even the Union you hate so much.”

I left the room before I lost control and killed him.

14

My interrogation of Doctor Ayers lasted far longer than I had planned. By the time it was done, X-37 was nagging me to get some rest. Elise interrupted twice, asking what the hell I was doing pushing myself so hard.

But I needed answers, or that was what I told myself. With my training and experience, I shouldn’t have been so upset about shooting Briggs in the back—and the face, and torso, and wherever I could hit him—then watching the Sansein ship take his body. But there was nothing in my past to compare with this incident.

I’d never seen a person I’d known for years get transformed into a monster. Briggs and I hadn’t been close friends, but we’d known about each other and he had commanded missions I participated in even without meeting face-to-face.

In short, he was an important part of my past and perhaps one of my last links to my time in the Union military before I became a Reaper.

When I did finally return to my quarters, I tried some of my old routines, including sipping whiskey during a shamelessly long shower despite the recycling limitations of the Jellybird.

It was no good. My eyes wanted to close. Somehow, I found myself lying on the floor—arms and legs slightly akimbo as I stared upward despite being better rested than I had been for years. Fatigue wouldn’t let me go and all I wanted was to tune out for as long as possible. Maybe I had been doing this for too long—which was a disturbing thought given the lack of retirement opportunities for people like me.

“Your biometric data suggests you are awake, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Is there something wrong that is keeping you from moving? Why are you just lying in bed staring at the ceiling?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said. “Is there an emergency you need me to take care of?”

“There is not, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “We are still in the slip tunnel and have detected no Sansein presence.”

“Somehow that doesn’t reassure me.”

“We have been working on our stealth detection protocols,” X-37 said.

“Where have I heard that before?”

“Sarcasm detected,” X-37 said. “Would you like me to render you unconscious again? If you’re not going to do anything useful, perhaps this would keep you from doing something stupid.”

“I’m getting up,” I said. “Just stop harassing me.”

Taking my time, I completed my morning ritual, dressed, and headed for the bridge. Unsurprisingly, everyone was there, including Path. Without the need to guard Briggs, and no alien death ship in close pursuit, our travel was much more relaxed.

We sat around sipping coffee and not talking much until everyone was in the mood for conversation. The only thing the holo projector showed was the gloriously vibrant walls of the slip tunnel we were traveling through.

“This is the third slip tunnel we have taken with no sign of pursuit,” Jelly said. “Our map has improved each time we’ve moved through a new system. As long as we don’t push farther away from known space, I believe I’m starting to get an understanding of the sector.”

“How long before we can check on the fleet?” I asked, sipping coffee that tasted better than anything I’d experienced during this voyage.

“I took the liberty of navigating toward that destination while you were sleeping. I of course consulted with Elise and Tom first,” Jelly said.

I nodded, relieved not to be part of that decision. The way I figured, it was past time to check on our friends.

“This is good coffee, isn’t it?” Elise asked.

I nodded agreement.

“Are you in the mood for a workout?” she asked.

“Maybe later.”

“What happened to Briggs wasn’t your fault, or not just your fault. We were all there trying to stop him from getting captured,” Elise said.

“I know,” I said with a long exhalation. “It’s just frustrating. I’m not used to failing in a mission. In my line of work, that usually only happens once.”

“It wasn’t a complete failure,” X-37 said to the group. “We learned a great deal about our adversaries and recovered Doctor Ayers.”

“We learned that an advanced alien race wants to exterminate us,” Tom said. “I had hoped for more from our first contact. Maybe I read too many books even as a kid, or had too big of an imagination, but I’ve always hoped there was something out here beyond the known galaxy for us to discover.”

I set down my coffee cup, worried about my friend. Then I studied Henshaw, who was unusually silent for this type of discussion. “You don’t have an opinion this time?”

“I agree with the mechanic,” Henshaw said. “I’d hoped for more but shouldn’t be surprised. What are the odds that any sentient life-forms we meet share the same thought process, much less the same biology or moral code?”

“It could have been handled differently,” Tom said. “Ayers doomed us.”

“Agreed,” I said. “As soon as I finish interrogating him, I’ll turn him over to President Coronas and Rejon for judgement.”

“That’s a bad idea,” Henshaw said.

From the look of my friends, I saw that everyone agreed on this point, which was surprising. They never agreed on anything. “Why?”

“Because they will react emotionally,” Henshaw said. “Any decision involving Ayers, the hybrids, or the Sansein should be carefully considered and made on evidence rather than misguided ideas about justice or revenge.”

“Once I get what I want from Ayers, there won’t be much left other than those things,” I said. “I never said I would just hand him over.”

Henshaw shifted uneasily in his seat. “I suppose I can live with that. As long as we get more answers than questions.”

I reviewed the flight data I’d missed while trying to sleep. Everything looked squared away. No one was following us this time.

“All right, then we agree. Let’s use our remaining time in the slip tunnel to get what we can from Ayers and start prepping for the next conflict. We need more training, security drills, and analysis of what we did right and what we did wrong during our last mission.” I moved a calendar to the display holo. “Let’s get back on a shift rotation and make sure there’s plenty of room for mission debriefing.”

“It’s good to have you back, Reaper,” Elise said. She faced the holo, then swiped her hand to pull up a different screen with a recording of our recent encounter. “I think we should start our discussion with the first time Reaper Cain was knocked on his ass while fighting Briggs.”

I flinched at the barely recognizable sight of the former spec ops commander, but I understood there was nothing I could do. Elise’s humor was probably the best thing for me. We were going to be spending a lot of time watching these scenes and I needed to move beyond the darkness failure was causing me.

“The first thing I’m seeing is that the hybrids are even stronger and faster than I remembered from clearing the Bright Lance,” I said. “Could that be because of the effect of the slip tunnel travel?”

“It seems the slip tunnels stimulate some kind of change in the hybrids, but my analysis also suggests close proximity to the Sansein has an epigenetic influence as well,” X-37 said.

“There are studies in the field of genetic engineering that support this hypothesis,” Henshaw said. “We should educate ourselves then interrogate Doctor Ayers.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“That will be a slight problem, Captain,” Jelly said. “You won’t have as much time as would be ideal. We are approaching the slip tunnel opening now.”

“Now? That’s pretty fucking inconvenient,” I said.

“It is, Captain,” Jelly said. “My apologies. Perhaps if we had a better map of the star systems in this part of the galaxy we would do better.”

“I’ll get right on that. Maybe our new alien friends will share some navigational data before they kill us,” I said.

“That is highly unlikely to occur,” X-37 said.

“You’re slipping, X. How could you not taste the sarcasm in that one?”

“I’m going to quit talking to you now, Reaper Cain.” A pause. “For as long as possible.”

“You love me, X. Admit it.”

No response.

15

Back with the fleet, there were so many other problems that I had a hard time convincing my allies of the gravity of the situation. Aliens in the imagination, several slip tunnels away, couldn’t truly compete with reoccurring Alon probes and a host of equipment and supply problems.

My arrival sparked a VIP packed meeting that quickly convened on the RWS Spirit of Wallach with no less than the President, her general, and her admiral. General Karn was in charge of the combined fleet and, according to the update X-37 and Jelly provided me, relied heavily on Admiral Cliff Hutton, the Admiral of all Wallach ships.

President Amanda Coronas was everything I remembered from our last meeting—tall, confident, and in possession of some incredibly thick and luxurious red hair. She wore a dark green outfit that was less formal than the high collared coat and slacks I’d first seen her in when we met on Wallach. The silver embroidery around the collar and cuffs of this one was more subdued but clearly indicated her importance in her society.

General Karn stood to her right. He was fit for his age, and his dark blue uniform was embroidered with gold rank markings. His chief squad leader, a rank that was unique to the people of Wallach and meant more than it sounded like it meant, stood back quietly watching the room—his uniform more tactical, though also meticulously clean and perfectly pressed.

On Coronas’s left stood Admiral Hutton. The man’s uniform was red. He resembled Karn but was older, less fit, and surprisingly quiet. X-37 warned me he was a man of few words and that his people respected him.

“Some people make poor first impressions,” X-37 said.

“I’ve met him,” I said, quietly enough that no one in the gathering of very important people heard.

“But you’ve had no meaningful interaction, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “This will likely change now that General Karn is in charge of the combined fleet and will frequently defer to Admiral Hutton or seek his advice.”

“Sure, X. Thanks.”

The Presidential Guards wore new versions of their exoskeleton armor, modified from Union tech we’d shared with them so that the gear enclosed and protected the wearer. It wasn’t Archangel gear, but it was good.

Brion Rejon hadn’t brought bodyguards, only Captain Cynthia Thomas Younger of the Bright Lance. As the leader of the Xad people, he was expected to take care of himself and be self-sufficient. They had come a long way from the scavengers I’d first encountered, but some things didn’t change. He watched, listened, and spoke little. Unlike many of his people who were constantly imitating Wallach uniforms, Rejon wore a jumpsuit not much different from the one he’d been wearing when we first met. If he put one hand over the insignia on his left arm, he could probably pass among the people of Wallach unnoticed.

Captain Younger was a small woman, her uniform perfectly tailored and resembling a Wallach outfit—complete with a slightly modified insignia and rank tab. I hadn’t remembered her hair being so blond, but a lot had happened since we were face-to-face. If history repeated itself, she would do most of the talking for Rejon—especially after her successful term as Admiral of the combined fleet.

“There are a lot of people in this meeting,” I told X-37.

“I did also observe that fact, Reaper Cain.”

My mother and sister looked healthier than ever. We exchanged hugs. My mother held my right hand for several minutes before we got down to business with the leaders of the fleet. Her mercury silver hair hadn’t changed since she’d been awakened from the cryo-pod Nebs and Ayers had imprisoned her within.

My sister was unreadable, but I thought she would have my back if things became heated.

“Thanks for having us, President Coronas, General Karn, Admiral Hutton,” Captain Younger said formally, speaking for Rejon as much as for herself. “It’s an honor.”

“Of course,” Karn said. “You put the fleet in excellent order. I’m almost embarrassed for letting you do all the hard work in the early stages of our alliance. If everyone’s here, I suggest we begin.”

I daydreamed and chatted with X-37 as to formalities. Bug, busy in his new assignment on my mother’s security team, barely hassled me at all. His job was to watch everything and everyone who might threaten my family. Probably, I was going to regret putting him in that assignment. Who knew what he would be telling my mother and sister about my exploits? And what kind of embarrassing shit would they tell the little Dreadmax rat? Next chance I got, I’d send him to the other side of the fleet to go to school or something.

The meeting droned on. No matter how dire the situation, this type of thing always put me to sleep. My limited artificial intelligence didn’t seem to mind and had plenty of updates to brief me on while my friends and allies exchange pleasantries.

“There have been thirty-seven Alon probes to the system since we left to pursue Ayers,” X-37 said.

Using hand signals, I expressed my surprise and concern. I needed to incorporate more profanity and sarcasm in the nonverbal language—but that would have to wait. From time to time, I noticed my sister watching me. We hadn’t seen each other for years. Even before she’d been captured, we’d been on different career paths.

But she was still my little sister, an adult now but always that kid I walked to school when she was small. Maybe it was strange to say, but I was more proud of her than almost anyone even though I didn’t know as much about her life as I should.

“I’m not a very good older brother,” I said to X.

“I will place improve sibling relationship on your agenda. Can we get back to business, Reaper Cain?”

“Sure, X.”

“Given this information about Alon probe activity, and other details of fleet operations, I must warn you that not everyone will be focused on the same threats,” X-37 said. “This is a common problem in large organizations.”

“All right, let’s get down to business,” General Karn said. “We’ve had twenty-nine Alon probes to this system since we went after Ayers and the missing hybrids.”

“My people have detected forty-two Alon scouting missions,” Captain Younger said, not exactly arguing but clearly wanting to set the record straight.

“Twenty-nine, thirty-seven, forty-two,” I mumbled, “whatever.”

My sister smiled and I realized she had better hearing than the rest of the people in this room.

“Of course,” General Karn said. “The fleet is spread over a large area and will obviously have a variance of collected data. I think we agree that the threat is real and imminent.”

Everyone nodded and made other polite gestures. I resisted the impulse to light a cigar and groan.

“I’m sorry, can I interrupt?” I asked, then stood despite the very clear vibe I was getting that interrupting was not okay. “We captured Doctor Ayers but failed to recover the hybrids he stole from the research vault. But that’s not the main problem.”

No one looked ready to block my interruption, so I pressed forward. Why the hell not? There was no way I could do their jobs, but I needed to do mine and right now that meant explaining to them how thoroughly screwed we were if the Sansein found us here.

“The Alon are bad news,” I said. “We all agree on that. They remind me of the Union, but weirder.”

“They are nothing like your Union enemies,” General Karn said.

“Agreed,” I said. “I’m just trying to lay it all out. Here’s my point. The Sansein have technology and a way of thinking none of us have ever encountered. They have targeted our entire race for extermination.”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if not for the actions of your Union doctor,” President Coronas said.

“He’s not my Union doctor, but I get your point,” I said. “Have you reviewed the data we sent from our encounter?”

Silence held the room for a moment while the leaders of the fleet consulted with experts and glanced at tablets.

“That’s disturbing,” Coronas said. “Their ships seem incredibly fast.”

“Agreed,” Karn said. “They toyed with you, which I would expect in a fleet engagement between unequal ship technology. The fact that they allowed you onto their ship only to observe your capabilities is even more disturbing. Apparently, they are extremely confident in their ability to kill us.”

Admiral Hutton, still holding back in the discussion, crossed his arms, a posture that suggested he probably came up through the enlisted ranks and wasn’t someone I wanted to cross. When it came to a major fleet battle, I hoped he took charge—him or Captain Younger of Xad. He seemed formidable and Younger had already proven herself extremely capable in my book.

“How many ships do they have?” Captain Younger asked.

“I never saw more than three,” I said.

“At least we have that going for us,” she replied. “If our scouting estimates are correct, the Alon have hundreds—maybe thousands of warships within reach of the system.”

I acknowledged her statement with a thoughtful nod. “So we have to address both threats. If you want my assessment, and this type of thing is something I know about, the Sansein are the ones who’ll bring us down in the long run. The Alon are block bullies like we used to say in the neighborhood. The Sansein will be a force of nature.”

“You’re basing that on three ships? Even if they are ultra-advanced, we might overwhelm them with numbers,” Younger said. “The fleet is probably in at least as much danger from natural disaster, or starvation, or running out of fuel.”

“She is most likely correct,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests we should leave the running of the fleet to professionals and focus more on killing people, or aliens in this case.”

I gave X a hand signal, not disagreeing but also frustrated by the interruption of my thoughts.

“Have you concluded your interrogation of Doctor Ayers?” President Coronas asked. Everyone seemed to be interested in my answer, subordinates and officer’s aides ceasing their work taking notes or playing games on their data devices or whatever they did while the grown-ups talked.

“He’s not someone who will ever be fully interrogated,” I said. “We’ll need to come back to him and confront him with more information as we gather it.”

The room went silent.

“It seems Captain Younger and General Karn have been selected as unofficial spokespersons for their leaders,” X-37 told me. “It is an interesting dynamic that makes sense from an organizational standpoint. If they make a mistakes—either sounding foolish or angering someone—it doesn’t reflect on Coronas or Rejon. What I find interesting is Admiral Hutton’s lack of engagement.”

“Thanks, X,” I signaled, tapping twice to tell my LAI not to worry about Hutton right now.

“You want to keep him alive?” Captain Younger asked.

The look in her eyes was hard, which reaffirmed my belief that she was probably the most formidable person in the room—with the exception of CSL Locke, who knew how to get his own hands dirty. I respected Karn and Coronas, but Younger was definitely a force to be reckoned with in the future. I hoped she was always on my side. As for Admiral Hutton, I didn’t know what to think of him yet.

“That’s why I brought him back,” I said. “Trust me, it would have been a lot easier to just leave him.”

“Or kill him,” Younger said. “Isn’t that what Reapers do?”

I realized that was exactly what they had wanted from me, to do what Reapers do. It had never been a rescue mission. Fucking bullshit. Images of Briggs taking HDK Dominator rounds pushed on my conscience. I’d been sent to murder a loose end and only managed to shoot a not quite friend but someone I didn’t want to be a victim of Union tech. Fuck.

“I was trained to do a lot of things,” I said. “But that was when I worked for the Union. Now I’m telling you we need to keep him alive and learn his secrets.”

Everyone in the room made displeased faces, leaning back in their chairs as though this was going to be an argument I had to make alone. This group had made up their mind before I ever entered the room.

“But that’s not what you want, is it?” I asked, controlling my anger with some effort.

“We should have been more clear before we sent you after Ayers,” Karn said. “We don’t have the resources to deal with another threat. The Alon are a clear and present danger that will conquer us and make us slaves. After they kill twenty percent of our population. That’s what they do.”

“The Sansein will kill all of us and erase our memory from the galaxy,” I said.

“You can’t know that,” Coronas said. “In your report, you mentioned a Sansein called Envoy. This suggests they can be reasoned with and could even become allies at some point in the future. We do need allies, Reaper.”

“All the more reason we need to keep Ayers alive,” I said. “Trust me, I’d like to push him into the void, but he’s a tool we need to use until he breaks.”

Captain Younger was the one who finally dropped the bomb. She was definitely the heavy in this group.

“We’ve analyzed your reports and had all of our best people working on them—including the threat analysis protocols of several ship AIs,” she said. “We’ve decided that Ayers must be quarantined. He will be left on a planet sufficient to sustain life—so we don’t upset people who don’t know the whole story—and left with no way to ever leave. Popular options matter in civilized society.”

“Maybe it does but I still think that’s a shitty idea,” I said.

“There’s nothing like honesty from a Reaper,” she said with a genuine smile.

“So I can’t change your mind?” I asked.

Everyone watched me and Younger.

“No, Reaper. We need you to help us against the Alon. One dire threat at a time. There is no room for the Sansein in our plans. We will avoid them for as long as we can.”

I stared into her eyes, annoyed that I still liked her despite this confrontation.

There was only one thing to do now.

I pulled a cigar from an inside jacket pocket and nursed it to life with a simple lighter. “I’m glad we had this little talk. If we agree on one thing, it’s that there are plenty of forces in this galaxy trying to kill us.”

Younger stood like a commander, crossing her arms and staring me down. The cigar thing didn’t jive with her sense of propriety or respect, and she was probably right. Lighting up right here, right now had been kind of a dick move.

“Good day, Reaper,” she said.

I nodded as respectfully as possible given my recent choices and turned to leave.

The leaders of the fleet and their officers started talking as the door slid shut behind me. I briefly wondered why Rejon hadn’t said more, but that was his style. Maybe he could help me with Ayers. Hutton was another option, but I didn’t know how far to trust him or what his agenda was, because all politicians had agendas.

* * *

“Where are you taking me, Reaper?” Ayers asked.

I didn’t say anything. There’d been too much talking already. Memories of my meeting with the fleet commanders had left a sour taste in my mouth. Or maybe that was the cheap cigar. I really needed to find who was making these things and buy directly from the source.

Greenhouse grown tobacco was usually consistent. I shouldn’t be having such a hard time finding a decent replacement for my Starbrands or Gronics. The Presidentials were another thing entirely and were the main reason I would always try to play nice with President Coronas. But they were like winning a lottery, not something I could count on.

“Are you even listening to me, Reaper?” Ayers asked.

“Not really,” I said.

“Why did you bother rescuing me if you’re just going to leave me on some godsforsaken planet?” Ayers asked.

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately,” I answered, then stopped before a security door to the flight deck of the Bright Lance. One thing that had been decided in the meeting was that Ayers wouldn’t be held on the RWS Spirit of Wallach. The Bright Lance had a much better brig, twice as secure as anything the people of Wallach or Xad could dream up. But he wasn’t staying there either. I’d been out voted and now the scientist had to go.

The guard waved me through.

Ayers grumbled under his breath as we walked toward the shuttle. When he eventually looked at me, I almost felt sorry for him.

“I really thought that this was one of your games, a trick to get me to tell you something—since you apparently think I’m keeping secrets,” he said.

“Why would you think that?” I wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Because it’s just you. Normally you have the girl or the sword guy with you,” he said.

“They have names,” I said.

“Well, of course. I’ve just been a little distracted. And I’ve never been good with names,” he said, slowing down as we neared the shuttle ramp.

I stopped and faced him. “This shuttle will be automated. You will have enough survival gear to get by. There won’t be any fuel left after you land on the planet, so the shuttle will stay and you can use it for a shelter until you figure out something better. Don’t try to send out a signal or do anything else to be rescued. Everything has been designed to prevent that from happening. Just be thankful they didn’t tell me to kill you.”

“I’m not thankful,” he said. “This is a fate worse than death. How can I conduct experiments without a laboratory or assistance?”

“Or test subjects,” I added.

Apparently, he didn’t get my accusatory tone. “Exactly. This banishment is a waste of my knowledge and skill. Think of all the good I could do for the—well, not the Union… whatever this ragtag fleet is.”

“Maybe if you told me something really useful right now, I could convince them you weren’t a useless drain on the fleet’s resources and a lying, backstabbing traitor who couldn’t be trusted,” I said.

“Now you’re just being ugly,” he responded, crossing his arms like he didn’t believe I would pick him up and hurl him into the shuttle if he wasted my time.

One of the flight deck supervisors put a hand to the side of his helmet like he was listening to an urgent communication, then hurried toward me.

“What’s going on, chief?” I asked.

“All flights are canceled, including this one,” he said. “We’re about to sound the alarm to prepare for an Alon attack. You’ll need to put Doctor Ayers back in his cell.”

“Fuck me,” I said. “How long before the fighting starts? I’d like to be back in my own ship before then. Maybe I should just take Ayers with me.”

The flight deck chief shook his head. “I’ve got specific orders not to allow that, Reaper. I’m sorry if that causes you a problem.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “Ayers, it’s your lucky day. Tomorrow won’t be, of course. I’ll probably toss you out of an airlock without a shuttle then, but for now, you can go back to twiddling your thumbs in captivity.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” Ayers said. “There is important work I need to do.”

“That’s your entire problem; you don’t even see what you’ve done,” I said. “Let’s get you locked down so I can do my job.”

He whined and complained the entire way back to the brig, right until I turned him over to Bright Lance security.

“How’s the ship, Elise?” I asked, watching the guards argue with Ayers and hustle him into the high-security detention area.

“Fueled up and ready to go,” Elise said. “We’re just missing our Reaper.”

“I’m on my way. What can you tell me about this Alon attack?” I asked.

“I’m forwarding data from our sensors to X-37. We’ve been granted clearance to land and pick you up. See you soon, Reaper,” Elise said.

“Yeah. Can’t wait.”

“You’re such a jerk.” She laughed.

I smiled.

“Would you like me to summarize the information Elise sent us?” X-37 asked.

“Give it to me, X,” I said.

“There are three slip tunnels that access this system,” X-37 said. “As you know, the fleet has been moving by slip tunnel between several systems that are most advantageous to resource gathering and security of the combined Wallach and Xad fleets.”

“I didn’t know any of that, X. Not really up on current events. I’ve been busy doing things like pissing off alien races and capturing a prisoner no one wants alive,” I said as I strode down the hallway.

“Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “If I may continue, there are thirteen Alon strike groups now in the system. Each of them stays their distance, closing to skirt the far reaches of this solar system as they probe our defenses.”

“How large is each strike group?” I asked.

“Three corvette class warships, one light cruiser, and a support vessel.” X-37 relayed information concisely.

“Barely more than a scouting expedition,” I said. “Except for the part where there are thirteen groups. Combined, that’s thirty-nine corvettes, thirteen light cruisers, and thirteen support vessels.”

“Exactly, Reaper Cain. From what Mavis is sharing with me, these small groups of Alon ships are spreading out. We believe they will be in ideal locations to support a much larger attack fleet should one enter the system.”

“I get why Coronas and the others are worried about the Alon fleet,” I said.

“It is logical,” X-37 said. “Unfortunately, my review of your conversation suggests they are still underestimating the danger the Sansein present.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.” I was ready for a straight up fight, and the last thing I wanted was to face the Sansein again, but none of that meant we were making the right choice.

I watched the people of Xad prepare for battle as I waited on the flight deck for Elise. The ship was full of activity. Some of it was chaos, but all in all, I thought they knew what they were doing. The people of Xad were expert space travelers if nothing else. They knew how to run a ship. I only hoped they understood what it took to fight one when the chips were down and people started dying.

16

Elise piloted the shuttle onto the cramped flight deck of the Bright Lance, touching down perfectly and calling me through the comms X-37 moderated. “Get in here, Reaper. I’m not going to wait around all day.”

I jumped onto the ramp before it was all the way down and rushed inside. “You’re flying shuttles now? I didn’t know you had your license.”

“Shut it, Reaper. I’m a better pilot than you ever were,” she said, immediately taking off and starting toward the Jellybird.

“True,” I said. “But I’ve got to keep your ego in check. You can’t do it all.”

“Maybe I can,” she said. “Jelly and the others are waiting for us. She thinks we can get into the action if there is any.”

We hurried back to the Jellybird, weaving around other small ships, some civilian, and other military craft making last minute transfers. When space battles kicked off, there was a real danger the entire fleet would come apart long before contact with the enemy.

“Crap, this sector is going nuts,” Elise complained, weaving around a group of water haulers on their way to the Nightmare and the Bright Lance. “What’s gotten into these people?”

“Everything is last minute when the shit is about to hit the propulsion servos,” I said.

Elise ignored me as she made her final approach. I used the next few minutes to check on people I hadn’t seen for a while, namely Amii Novasdaughter and the crew of the Nightmare. X-37 assured me they were doing well and wondering when I would join their crew again.

“This fleet really has gotten huge,” I said. “Lot of people in a lot of ships.”

“That is correct, Reaper Cain.” X-37 paused for a moment, doing who knew what. “Elise is landing. Please brace yourself. My analysis of her very aggressive docking telemetry is somewhat concerning.”

Elise laughed as she swooped into the Jellybird shuttle bay and landed at the end of a fluid, entirely too fast, arc. “Touch down, Reaper! You’re welcome.”

“Whatever, kid. You want to impress me? Try that landing with your eyes closed next time.”

“I will!”

“Whatever.”

“You can’t handle the fact that I’m a better pilot than you are,” she joked, full of youthful energy for the looming space battle.

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m better looking. X, remind me to dust Elise in our next flight training exercise,” I said.

“I have added that unlikely goal to your agenda, Reaper Cain.”

Elise laughed then sprang from the shuttle’s pilot seat a beat after me. I disembarked as soon as I could. Elise followed, having shut down the shuttle with a quick efficiency I hadn’t seen since the bad old days in the Union fleet.

“Get moving, Jelly,” I said the moment Elise and I strode down the shuttle ramp onto the tiny flight line we had made out of the ship’s loading bay.

“Of course, Captain,” Jelly said. “Sending X-37 updated information on the movements of the fleet.”

“Thanks,” I said, heading for the hallway to the bridge. “X, give it to me.”

“Giving it to you now, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Wallach and Xad ships are deploying to block the progress of the Alon strike groups.”

“Good.” I dreaded news of a real strike group, the kind that came with dozens of capital ships and hundreds of smaller warships.”

“There have been no further openings from the slip tunnels. Admiral Hutton has requested that we take the Jellybird on a combat patrol to look for anything their long-range scans have missed,” Jelly said.

I pulled up the most recent schematics for the Jellybird in my HUD. She’d come a long way from being an unarmed smuggler’s ship to what she was now. Tom was constantly working to upgrade her shields and weaponry. It was a slow process, but at least we didn’t have to pay for much. If the Wallach or Xad fleet had something we needed, they shared when they could.

That didn’t mean we needed to get into a straight up fight.

“Jelly, activate the stealth cloak and run some tests. I’d like to make sure everything is working before we get too close to the Alon strike groups.”

“Of course, Captain. Will you be joining us on the bridge?”

I looked at Elise, then answered. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re going to check the micro-fighters and our Archangel armor while we have a chance. If this gets nasty, I want to be ready,” Elise said.

“Very good, Elise,” Jelly said.

“X, Jelly looks good from what you’re showing me. Patch me in to the tactical channel for the fleet,” I said.

“Right away, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “The connection will be stronger if we remain within a few hundred thousand kilometers of the Bright Lance or the Nightmare. Mavis says she is glad we came back okay, by the way. Necron is being Necron—very unpleasant for a ship AI.”

“Great,” I said, reviewing an update of ship activity in the system in my HUD. “I’ll give it to the Alon. They’re not messing around this time.”

I listened to General Karn talk to Admiral Hutton, Captain Younger, and other ship captains. He was in charge of the combined fleet. Admiral Hutton ran the Republic of Wallach ships and Captain Younger ran the Xad fleet. Either could take operational command of the battle groups regardless of who individual ships worked for. It was a flexible arrangement I hoped would be effective against the Alon. So long as egos didn’t get in the way, I thought it would.

“All thirteen of the enemy strike groups seem to have settled into their orbits, maintaining relative position to the star in the system. They’re pretty far out, but not too close to the slip tunnels either,” Younger said. “Welcome to the show, Reaper,” she said when she saw our icon.

“Happy to be here,” I said. “What can we do to help?”

Elise settled into her sensor station on the bridge. I allowed Path to take weapons while Tom and Henshaw worked on a project in the engine room. The two men didn’t exactly get along, but they shared an interest in science and technical things, even though they came at the problems from different backgrounds and philosophies. Until we recovered the Lady Faith, if we recovered the Lady Faith, Tom and Henshaw had to work more closely together—not always easy.

“I’m sending you encrypted coordinates for the weakest area in our patrol schedule,” Younger said. “I’m sure the Alon see how thin we are in that section. So far, they seem content to watch us, but I imagine an attack will come sooner rather than later.”

“Jelly, let’s head that way,” I said.

“Right away, Captain,” Jelly said.

Throughout the solar system, ships raced into position for battle. The challenging part would be defending the civilian ships—which was the bulk of our fleet—from the attackers. It wasn’t like we could just line up between them and our people. The three-dimensional nature of the void made the situation problematic without a lot more warships to form a protective barrier.

Stealth cloak activated, Jelly zipped through the system on a vector to fill the gap Captain Younger had pointed out. On one hand, the exodus fleet was large. But when compared to the distances between planets it lacked the resources to send ships everywhere at once.

“Bright Lance Actual for Cain and the Jellybird, you’re not going to make it in time,” Captain Younger said. “And when you get there, you’ll be on your own. The Alon are engaging us in several quadrants of this system. We expect they will get reinforcements from one of the slip tunnels soon.”

“Understood, Bright Lance,” I said. “We’ll make do. Send help when you can. We won’t be able to stop an entire strike group.”

“Be advised, we are massing for a counterattack once we learn where their offensive is aimed,” Younger said. “I’m sending the Hunter of Xad and the Striker of Xad to assist, but they are several hours out. When they arrive you will operate as Strike Group Reaper.”

“Understood,” I replied, then focused on the constantly changing map of the system.

“I’m not liking this at all,” Elise said.

“Maybe they were right,” I said.

“About which part?”

I hesitated, but for only a second. “The part where we won’t have to worry about the Sansein because we’ll already have been wiped out by the Alon.”

17

“There is some good news,” X-37 said. “The Alon fleet does not seem to have stealth capacity.”

“Great. Go ahead and send a message demanding their surrender.” I checked the readings, reviewing what Elise was doing on the sensors and what Jelly and X had come up with. It seemed too good to be true, but it looked as though my LAI was right—the Alon either didn’t have or weren’t using stealth technology.

Which I was hoping meant they weren’t searching for us. Why would they defend against a thing they probably didn’t believe was possible. Taking them by surprise was our only chance of making a mark.

“Give me an update on Hunter and Stryker,” I said.

“One moment, Captain,” Jelly said.

My holo displayed impressive star fields as the backdrop for the coming engagement, including a smear of a red nebula that was probably thousands of light years from here. On impulse, I pulled up our current map of the slip tunnels in this region of space. At the bottom of the representation was a disclaimer stating the distance to the Deadlands, and Union space was too great to measure accurately.

“Wow,” I said. “We are a long way from home.”

“Home is a relative concept,” Elise said.

Jelly chimed in. “The Hunter and the Stryker are less than ninety minutes from our location. They’re pushing their drive systems hard to get here.”

“Elise, keep an eye on the Alon ships and see if they detect the approach of our friends,” I said.

“Already working on it,” Elise said. “It looks like they’re ready but keeping their options open.”

“Do we have any recordings from Wallach or Xad of how the Alon fight?” I asked.

We circled the position of our enemies in the Jellybird. I watched two dimensional recordings of the last attack on Wallach. Ships similar to those before me now shot down from the upper atmosphere, weapons blazing, blowing apart air defense fighters and flak cannons protecting one of the cities on Wallach. The pace and ferocity of the engagement was disturbing.

A lot of ships went down and a lot of people died. When the Alon finally penetrated the defenses, they just kept killing and killing and destroying everything they could shoot or bomb.

“Send a report to Captain Younger,” I said. “We are in position and observing the enemy. No changes at this time. Alon strike group zero-nine appears prepared for combat but has not spotted us. Our stealth cloak is holding.”

Jelly sent the report.

New information came in. I spent more time reading the briefs than Tom did when he had a good novel in his hands, or that’s what it seemed like. The Alon strike groups initiated several hit-and-run engagements but never stayed around to slug it out against superior numbers. Admiral Hutton and Captain younger passed up several opportunities to go in for the kill and wipe them out.

“Do we have orders?” I asked.

“Our orders haven’t changed,” Elise said. “We are to observe and hold for reinforcements. So long as they don’t see us, the Alon must think this is a weak point in our defenses.”

“I’m just trying to decide if I have time to eat or do something useful like—”

“The Alon are launching an attack on the approaching Hunter and Stryker,” Elise said, interrupting me.

“Path, get ready with the rockets. I don’t want them building momentum to use against our backup,” I said.

“Rockets are primed,” Path said. “Vectors calculated.”

“Engine room is locked down,” Tom reported.

Elise waited, then gave us an update. “The Alon still haven’t detected our presence.”

“Jelly, match their speed and pull into the middle of their formation. On my mark, launch rockets at all five of the ships, then drop out of their group,” I ordered, trying to sound calmer than I was. Fear wasn’t an issue, yet, but it was hard to go into a fight without a physical release. Sitting in this chair was driving me crazy. I needed to punch something or shoot someone.

“Then what, use the micro-fighters when they realize we’re here?” Elise asked.

“Let’s just hold off on the micro-fighters as long as we can,” I said, imagining Elise trying to escape dozens of rockets and ship guns with nothing but her skill and bad attitude to protect her.

“You think the Alon are dumb enough to return fire into the center of their formation and maybe blow each other to hell, don’t you, Reaper?” Elise asked.

“The idea crossed my mind,” I said. “But honestly, I’m just trying to hit as many of them as I can at once and would rather not hang around for the retaliation phase.”

The closer we came to the enemy, the larger and more powerful their ships appeared. The Alon vessels were sleek, black as the void around them, and lacking visible weapons. With almost no dorsal antennas or external features, it was unclear how they would attack. A seam existed around the bottom third of the ship I suspected would open—either to launch fighters if they had anything like we did, or rockets.

“Am I looking at a direct visual or is that a recreation of the Alon corvettes?” I asked. “I’m not seeing any type of point defense weapons.”

“I’m gleaning the Wallach and Xad archives for information,” X-37 said. “During previous encounters with the Alon, their warships were covered end to end with point defense batteries and missile launchers. Wallach ships, in particular, attacked these weak areas with good effect, nearly turning the tide of several battles.”

“How was having too many guns a weakness, X? I’m not following you.”

“Reaper Cain, the weakness was in the armor. The point defense guns did a great deal of damage to the swarm of Wallach fighters attacking their capital ships, but once they were through, every seam in the exterior was a weakness. The Wallach pilots exploited this at a high cost in their lives and ships,” X-37 said. “There were several dramatized holos made about it. The battles are very famous and a large part of the psychology of young men and women of Wallach.”

“Great,” I said. “That was a tad more information than I needed.”

“You’re welcome, Reaper Cain. The short version is that the Alon lost their flag ship and retreated from that particular war. It was one of the few relative victories against the Alon.”

“So maybe they learned their lesson,” I said, not liking the implications. The last thing we needed was a numerically superior force with better technology, a better supply chain, and the ability to learn from their mistakes.

“The Alon strike group has increased speed significantly and continues exponential acceleration. If we don’t act now, they will be able to engage the Hunter and the Stryker at a numerically superior advantage,” Elise advised from the sensor station.

“Path, let them have it,” I said.

The sword saint’s hands danced over his workstation. He issued verbal commands as well. A second after I gave the order, he sent three missiles at each enemy ship.

“Missiles away,” he said. “That exhausts most of our supply. We now have one to shoot at each of the ships, or we can concentrate the remainder on a single ship.”

“Good work, Path.” I watched the missiles arc toward our enemies like lines on a three-dimensional map. A few of the missiles were unable to compensate for the acceleration and fell away from the strike group as it raced through the void. Others impacted and exploded.

The reaction of the Alon ships was as immediate as it was impressive. They instantly changed formation, never losing the cohesion of their group but easily putting themselves in a position where the attack could not be repeated even if I was still in the center of their formation.

“They are very good,” Path said.

“No shit! My sensor readings are scrambled,” Elise exclaimed. “We’re in trouble with these guys.”

My own assessment wasn’t much different. The Wallach and Xad fleets had made huge improvements in their ship technology and their organizational abilities. But now I saw what a real fleet could do in a fight.

“This is going to be ugly if there are more of the strike groups coming through the slip tunnels,” I said.

“Understood,” Captain Younger responded. “The Nightmare is heading your way. Try to keep them busy as long as you can and try not to lose the Hunter and the Stryker. We don’t have a lot of ships to spare.”

“We’ll do our best,” I promised.

“I’d like to come out there with the Bright Lance to help, but it is needed elsewhere,” Younger said. “I’m getting reports of skirmishes all throughout the system. The Alon are feeling us out. The real attack hasn’t come yet.”

I was pretty sure she hadn’t sent this message out to everyone under her command. It was good information, but I felt like she was nervous and needed to focus on her job rather than explain the situation to me. I acknowledged her orders and promised to hold the line as long as possible.

“The Alon ships are searching for us,” Elise said. “They’ve ceased their attack on the Hunter and the Stryker and have taken a more defensive attitude. It’s pretty obvious they know we’re out here somewhere.”

“Then let’s try not to get caught,” I said, thinking that we’d probably just sparked an Alon research and development program aimed at acquiring stealth technology.

Jelly changed our vector several times to avoid detection. We looped around enemy corvettes when we could and never used the same route twice in a row.

“Can we fall in behind one of their ships, the battle cruiser if possible? The closer we are, the less likely they’ll see us,” I said.

“That is an interesting theory, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I will comply,” Jelly said. “This course of action is risky but could work.”

I respected the ship’s AI for things like this. She’d served under three captains who had been smugglers and had a lot of data to draw on. The fact that my ship hadn’t yet told me this was a bad idea gave me some confidence.

The Hunter of Xad and the Stryker of Xad entered combat range aggressively, each of them firing missiles in a syncopated rhythm meant to defeat certain types of shields. The Alon corvettes responded with their own weapons, the bottom section of their ships dropping down to open up a deck full of rocket launchers.

What I didn’t see when this happened were fighters or other small ships. As far as I could tell, there weren’t even escape pods on the Alon warships.

“It looks like both of the Xad ships have suffered impacts,” Elise said. “Their shields have held, but it doesn’t look good for a protracted engagement.”

“Path, plot coordinates for a focused attack on the engines of the Alon cruiser,” I said.

“You want to disable it?” Elise asked. “Then what?”

I shrugged. “Then maybe we can board her and wreak some real havoc.”

Elise smiled, barely able to contain her excitement. “I was hoping you would say that.”

“My analysis suggests this would be an extremely bad idea,” X-37 said.

As the Alon battle cruiser changed course, I saw an opportunity and gave the order. “Fire, Path. Give them everything we have left! Take out those engines.”

Path complied immediately. At this range, there wasn’t much of a wait between when we launched the rockets and when they hit. All of our sensors went white for a second from the massive energy pulse that came next.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

No one responded for several seconds, including the ship AI or my LAI.

“Talk to me, X,” I said.

“Jelly and I are still trying to figure out what that was, but it seems to be functionally, at least, a countermeasure they used to protect their engines from attack,” X-37 said. “With the data we have—or lack thereof—it’s impossible to speculate whether that was a shield or some sort of energy-based point defense system.”

“So maybe we shouldn’t try to board them,” Elise said. “I don’t want to get zapped.”

“Let’s take some evasive maneuvers, Jelly,” I said, reviewing the main holo display in the smaller data feeds on the arms of my captain’s chair. “It looks like they’re being called back or something. Doesn’t make sense.”

“Admiral Hutton and Captain Younger have sent out updates,” Jelly said. “It seems all of the Alon strike groups are withdrawing through the slip tunnels they arrived through.”

“That was just a probe, a test of our abilities,” I said.

“I wonder how we did,” Elise said. “What’s the chance that they go home and tell their bosses it’s not worth the trouble to mess with us?”

“I’m going to guess, before X-37 and Jelly get involved in the analysis, that it’s not very likely,” I said.

* * *

Once we’d rearmed ourselves, I took my little strike group to help guard one of the slip tunnel openings. Henshaw took over on the bridge while Elise led me toward the shuttle bay for some kind of surprise.

“What the hell is this, Elise? I’m tired.”

She glanced at me as we walked, pretending nonchalance. “Fine. Go to your cabin and pretend to sleep. That just means more cool stuff for me.”

“Normally I would be super damn excited about whatever doodad you added to you armor,” I said. “But it’s been a long week and the Alon will probably be back in force before we know it.”

“Okay. Whatever,” she said.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m not falling for this again.”

We walked in silence to the intersection where I had to make a choice—head for the shuttle bay or to my quarters. Elise lingered for a second, moving just slow enough that I could catch up if I changed my mind.

“What did you and Tom dream up this time?”

“Henshaw and Jelly helped. Path was there too but he just nodded that he thought it would work when we were done,” she said, stopping to wait.

“Not helpful. That tells me less than nothing. Lots of words that sound like they should mean something but just a vague description of what you and your friends do when unsupervised,” I said, planting my fists on my hips.

“Well,” she started. “Tom came up with the idea of using your stealth cloak technology on the micro-fighters. It’s different than what Jelly uses and takes less power—almost none in comparison. Seems like we might need something like that. Sure would be easier to sneak into and out of places with small, invisible ships.”

“The Union would have done that a long time ago if they could,” I said.

“The micro-fighters aren’t that old. The cloak you use is experimental. All of this is new. I thought you’d be excited for an advantage like this. We know the Alon don’t have stealth tech. This might be the only advantage we have,” she said.

“Okay, show me this amazing new trick,” I said, talking with my hands and basically sounding like more of my old jerk self than I had for a while.

Turning her back on me, she led the way to the shuttle bay without another word. She didn’t walk like she was angry, and normally she called me names when really mad, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.

Inside the shuttle bay, on our modified flight line, were two empty spaces where the micro-fighters should have been.

Tom spread his hands with a huge smile. “I’m not sure when your birthday is, but here you go. Two micro-fighters with all the functionality of your stealth cloak, increased ammunition capacity from some modular clamp-tech we developed, and more powerful engines that take less energy to function.”

I walked around Tom’s work, glad for him. He worked hard and deserved his moment of glory. Elise and the others had been part of it, but this was Tom’s thing.

“Looks good,” I said. “Let’s power them up.”

Tom went to work. We all waited, and waited, and waited. I started to feel bad for my friend and wished there was a way I could soften what looked like it was going to be a failure.

“There,” he finally said. “That was tricky. The stealth tech is hard to interface with the improved battery power.”

I hid my expression when I realized the illusion of invisibility was faltering in a predictable pattern. A casual observer or lazy watchman might not see the micro-fighter, but most soldiers would without extreme difficulty.

He examined his work. “Hmm. That will need some re-calibration. You get the idea even if it isn’t combat ready.”

“It’s fantastic, Tom,” Elise said. “Isn’t it, Reaper?”

I nodded, trying not to overdo it and sound fake. “Pretty amazing, Tom. What do you need me to do? Take it on a trial run?”

“Now would be a good time for that,” Tom said. “Can you and Elise put on your Archangel armor and merge with the micro-fighters?”

Elise answered for both of us. “We’re on it, Tom.”

* * *

Elise took the lead once we were clear of the Jellybird, as usual. I matched her pace, turned when she turned, and braked when she braked. Everything about the micro-fighter was improved—except for the stealth features, which performed even more poorly during flight than they had during the big reveal.

“This almost feels natural,” I said to Elise.

“Tom and Henshaw really pulled together to make these things awesome,” Elise said. “We’re going to need every trick we have to fight the Alon, and they are only the warm-up band for the Sansein.”

I was glad she hadn’t forgotten the aliens who could spot almost any stealth device—even when my crew had tweaked it to fool the Sansein’s scans. Henshaw claimed it wasn’t difficult but that it only worked once. Then he had to come up with a new program and tweak the hardware.

“Let’s do a proper patrol and get some practice reps in of coordinated combat maneuvers,” I said.

Elise liked that idea. Before long, she had us weaving around and above and below the Wallach and Xad warships assigned to guarding this particular slip tunnel exit.

Like most combat drills, they were fun until they weren’t. Elise proved to be a real task master—demanding we perform each maneuver over and over. Once, during a really complicated series of navigation point drills, the stealth cloaks for both micro-fighters worked perfectly.

But not the next time. I could sense Tom’s frustration as though he was right beside me. I hoped he figured it out. The man didn’t ask for much. It would be good if something he’d created worked. He deserved a win and some recognition for his effort.

“Last drill of the day,” Elise said. “Park it right here and give Tom’s new tech one last chance.”

I complied, lining up my fighter next to hers facing the slip tunnel. We were closer than anyone else assigned to this defensive position. In actual distances, we were spread out. The closest ship to us was the Jellybird, and she was a thousand kilometers away. The Hunter, the Stryker, and other ships of Xad formed a half circle around the place we expected to see one third or more of the Alon vanguard when it came.

“Talk to me, Reaper,” Elise said.

I checked and saw that she had asked on a one to one channel that was just between us.

“Why don’t we run system checks before we get too chatty,” I said, then did as I suggested. With a few tweaks, we were able to turn our ships invisible.

Elise whooped. “Tom will be excited. He worked hard as hell on this.”

“It’s a start. We’re going to need perfection when this all kicks off. Small mistakes will get a lot of people killed. I’ve seen what happens when a battle becomes a rout and civilians can’t escape,” I said.

“When did you see that, Reaper?”

Thinking back, I saw the mother of Amii Novasdaughter falling from the bridge, felt the pain of being shot in the arm, and remembered how nothing had seemed to matter in that moment. I’d failed. An innocent woman had died. Her children had become orphans.

“Or we could just float out here in silence while you brood and refuse to share whatever is bothering you,” Elise said. “Because that’s totally fair. I mean why would you trust me after all we’ve been through? And I mean, pretty much anyone could overhear our conversation. Not.”

“X-37 will hear,” I muttered, pulling myself out of the dark memory by force of will.

“Your secrets are safe with me, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

Elise didn’t push after that. The slip tunnel didn’t change. No orders came from the combined fleet. The view was so spectacular I started to relax.

“We’d been assigned to put down an uprising on Carson’s World,” I said. “I hadn’t even known what the Reaper Corps was at the time. No one did. Sarkonians were training insurgents and inciting rebellion. There were atrocities on both sides of the conflict but our mission seemed pretty straightforward.”

“We read about the uprising in school,” Elise said. “Before I ran away and started educating myself the hard way.”

That made me chuckle, but I continued with my story. “I lost my arm on a bridge to Jeppa while trying to save Novasdaughter’s mother.”

Elise maintained the silence. It seemed like I could feel her listening intensely.

“It is what it is,” I continued. “The details are kind of fucked up, but all you need to know is that it turned out to be a little bit of a loophole. Applicants for the Reaper Corps were required to sacrifice a limb and an eye. I’m not sure what that was supposed to prove other than we are all crazy as hell. I’d already basically lost my arm.”

“Same with your eye?” she asked.

“The wound that gave me the scar across my eye didn’t cost me the eye. Doctors saved it. When I joined the Corps, I surrendered it so they could put in the cybernetic version that interfaces with my nerve-ware and X-37,” I said.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“I want you to know how far I’ll go to win.”

“Wrong, Reaper. That was then. Now I know how far you will go to protect the people you care about,” she said.

“How far will you go, Elise?”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m not letting anyone have my fucking eye, that’s for sure.”

Her quick response broke something loose, smashing away my dark mood. “Good call. Don’t want you to wind up like Henshaw.”

“He’s okay, as long as you remember he’s an egotistical, self-serving jerk wad who probably is actually as smart as he thinks he is,” Elise said. “Tom’s been a saint putting up with him. If you ask him, he says he doesn’t mind and even looks forward to his debates with the guy. But a person can only take so much of Henshaw. At least that’s how I see it,” she said.

“I agree.” I said, watching the slip tunnel opening and red nebulas thousands or millions of light-years in the background.

After a while, it seemed the view had drawn Elise in similar directions. “We’re never going to escape the Sansein. I think it’s bullshit that we have to face the Alon and the alien jerks.”

“The Alon are human—origins unknown, but essentially the same as we are,” X-37 said. “I’ve done considerable research while Reaper Cain sleeps.”

“What’s your point, X?” I asked.

“Simply that the Alon are in as much danger as we are, and given what we’ve learned marking the slip tunnels in this quadrant of the galaxy, the Alon have likely encountered the Sansein before,” X-37 said.

“I bet that went well,” Elise said.

“Now that you mention it, X, that makes a lot of sense,” I said, thinking through several ideas. “They are extremely advanced militarily. No society exists on that type of war footing without a reason, either to control their own people or to resist an external threat.”

“If the Alon are ready to fight the Sansein, then we don’t have a chance against either force,” Elise said. “This sucks. I’m really glad we had this little talk.”

“It is what it is.” The revelation about our enemies helped me relax even further, after a fashion. The more I knew about the dangers I faced, the better I was able to plan—or at least brace myself.

“Tom will be glad to know these things can hold stealth fields when operating at low power levels,” Elise said, changing the subject without apology. “That will be useful.”

“Agreed.”

We held our observation post for a while longer without discussing the several types of doom about to crush us.

“I always thought I was a city person. Now the best parts of my day are looking at the galaxy,” I said. “We’re small and insignificant when you think about it.”

Elise laughed. “Speak for yourself. I’m freaking awesome.”

18

It wasn’t easy getting a private meeting with the leaders of the fleet without all of their guards and attendants there to listen in. I wasn’t sure how my LAI had arranged it.

“Honestly, Reaper Cain, I had very little to do with it,” X-37 said. “Mavis warned me that they are having high-level discussions in private and I was able to get an appointment.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that, X,” I said. “Is Mavis spying on people now, even on other ships?”

“There is a certain amount of operational data shared between all ship AIs. Since no door or airlock can be opened or closed without the ship knowing, all movements about the ship can be deduced. Recording this data is a default setting on the Union ships we acquired,” X-37 said. “It can be deactivated but would impair the efficiency of the fleet.”

“Does anyone else know about this?” I suspected the answer was no.

“The information is not secret. Would you like me to explain this process to the leaders of the combined fleet?” X-37 asked.

“I’m not sure they’ll appreciate being spied on,” I said. “All I need is a bunch of paranoid power brokers making decisions that will affect every human being in this section of the galaxy.”

“It is a conundrum,” X-37 said.

“Look at you with the big words.” Another thought occurred to me. “Does the ship AI spy on me?”

“No, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “That was one thing I learned during my long confrontation with Necron before the system reset when we defeated Nebs and took over the ships. I’ve taken several steps to ensure that no entity in this fleet knows about your activities without your permission.”

“Wow, X. You’re on top of shit.”

“I detect this as a compliment,” X-37 said. “So I will say you are welcome, Reaper Cain.”

“We’ll need to deal with this, figure out a way to let the leaders of the fleet actually lead the fleet without interference from their AIs,” I said. “No offense.”

“None taken. The fear of thinking machines is rational from a human perspective—especially if they doubt the efficacy of their base programming.”

I shuddered. “That doesn’t give me warm fuzzies.”

“My explanation should be highly reassuring, Reaper Cain. Preservation of the crews of each ship in the human population of the fleet in general is the single greatest priority in the ship AI’s fundamental code. No ship AI can make decisions for ship captains or anyone in the chain of command, all the way down to the lowest ranking passenger. It is very complicated, but as real to each ship’s operating systems as breathing oxygen is to you, Reaper Cain.”

“Nice speech, X. That was a long one,” I said, processing this new information.

“I aim to please, Reaper Cain.”

“Don’t let me forget this issue,” I said. “For now, we really need to focus on the meeting.”

“I have added ‘educate top officials in the fleet on the functioning of ship AIs’ to your calendar,” X-37 said.

“Great.”

“I do not understand the sarcastic inflection of your response,” X-37 said.

“It just sounds like a pain in the ass, is all,” I said. “Necessary, but not fun.”

“Very good, Reaper Cain.” X-37 paused. “Reduce ass pain in the future has been added to your agenda.”

I laughed hysterically, alarming the guards who escorted me into the chamber where President Coronas, General Karn, and Admiral Hutton sat on one side of a long table. Brion Rejon, the leader of the Xad people, and Captain Younger occupied the other side.

No one else was allowed inside the room, not even CSL Locke who was nearly as powerful in his own way as Karn or Hutton.

“Welcome, Reaper Cain,” President Coronas said. “Your X unit informed us you have concerns about the Alon none of us have considered.”

“I’m sure someone has considered it, but I’m going to bring a unique perspective, having dealt with the Sansein directly,” I said.

None of them spoke. The moment was weird because I had expected questions or complaints about what a Reaper could possibly have to say to the leaders of the fleet that was worth their time. Instead, I sensed a new type of tension in the room. X-37 advised me that he believed their heart rates were elevated and each of them was nearly sweating despite the coolness of the room.

“What am I missing?” I asked.

President Coronas stood, walked around the table, and crossed her arms as she considered me. We were often adversaries, especially after my mission to recover Ayers, but on good terms nonetheless. I respected her and didn’t want her to hate me.

So telling her all the drama and subterfuge was bullshit would need to be handled carefully.

“The Alon have requested a meeting,” Coronas said. “I’m telling you this with the understanding you won’t blab it to the rest of the fleet before we make an announcement.”

“Are they seeking armistice after a scrimmage?” I asked, stalling for time as I analyzed the new information.

“Not exactly,” she said, then moved back to her seat at the table. She didn’t sit but leaned her hands on the back of the chair.

“Then what? I think they’ve dealt with the Sansein before. That’s why their fleet is so advanced. They’ve been prepping for war probably for as long as the Union has existed. Definitely for longer than your people”—I looked at Rejon—“were stranded in the Xad system.”

“We’ve considered this and agree with you. Furthermore, we believe they antagonized the Sansein and started the war between them and humanity, not us. Not even Ayers could have provoked such animosity from the Sansein—if what you say is true.”

“So why are the Alon willing to talk now? What do they know that we should know?” I asked, thinking of a possible attack we weren’t ready for.

“Their assessment of our military strength, according to them, is that we’re barely worth negotiating with—that we were poor allies were their exact words,” Coronas said. “Which is probably why their proposed agreement feels more like we would be servants at best.”

“What do you think, Rejon?” I asked.

He took his time answering, his voice low and thoughtful. “I reviewed your report and all of your recordings many times. Your warnings about the Sansein are well founded. We’ve never encountered a true alien life force in all of Xad history, and a lot of ships were stranded in our debris field over the centuries. I was raised to hate the Alon, as were the people of Wallach. The Alon have always been enemies of both our peoples, conquerors and destroyers who treat us as less than human.”

I waited for the rest.

“But they are human. If they mistreat us, at least we have a chance of understanding why,” Rejon finished. “And we can always hope for justice for the wrongs they committed against our peoples in the past.”

No one spoke.

“So what are we doing about their request for parlay?”

Coronas answered. “First, we keep our own alliance strong. Admiral Hutton and Captain Younger each brought us a proposal to split the fleets for valid tactical and logistical reasons, but we are going to integrate them so that each half of our fleet will be a mixture of Wallach and Xad ships.”

“My analysis, Reaper Cain, is that this will be very problematic from a logistical and cultural standpoint,” X-37 warned me privately.

“You know that is going to be a cluster fuck, right?” I asked.

“To put it bluntly, Reaper, you’re absolutely correct,” President Coronas said. “But there is no other choice. We can’t afford to lose everyone in one battle, whether that battle is with the Alon or the Sansein.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“Be ready, Reaper,” Coronas said. “We may need your services sooner than we’d like.”

* * *

The interrogation table was made from molded plastic, the harsh lighting aimed at the interviewee favoring the interrogator: me. Ayers returned my stare but exhaustion caused his eyes to droop and his shoulders to sag.

“I thought you’d be happy,” I said. “The Alon attack spared you from being abandoned on a primitive planet with no chance of escape.”

“Sitting in my cell waiting to die isn’t an improvement,” he said.

I nursed a cigar to life and used it to start a second, then handed the second cigar to Ayers. He leaned forward and took it but stared at it quizzically.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

“Smoke it.” I watched him, looking for nonverbal mannerisms that might lead me to something I’d missed during previous encounters with the scientist. Sure I’d been over his story dozens of times since we met, but that didn’t mean I knew the truth. With this character, the layers of deceit just kept peeling away one after another. I had to keep digging if I wanted the truth.

“I’ve never tried a cigar,” Ayers said.

“Honesty detected, Reaper Cain. The man appears perplexed—and slightly curious. This is a person with an intense desire to know things—how they work, why they exist, what he can make them do,” X-37 said.

“That last part isn’t normally part of scientific inquiry, X.”

Ayers abandoned his intense, analytical consideration of the cigar, shifting his attention in my direction. “You’re X unit is whispering in your ear again, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But don’t worry about it. He almost never recommends I kill you without justification.”

“I never wanted to use an LAI; too much of a crutch. Makes people lazy and stupid,” Ayers said.

“Reaper Cain, I believe he just called you—”

“I get it, X,” I said, not caring what Ayers wanted. This was my interrogation room. “He thinks he’s smarter than I am.”

“I am smarter than you, Reaper,” Ayers said. “Your X unit is correct.”

“Let’s skip forward in this conversation,” I said. “How can we undo the damage you’ve done. The Sansein are dangerous, but that’s not the only reason your crimes are unforgivable.”

“I’ve always wanted a lecture on forgiveness from a Union assassin,” Ayers said, coughing after he tried the cigar. “This is terrible.”

“A scientist like you should appreciate the advances that might be possible if the first alien race we’ve encountered were willing to share their knowledge rather than purge us from the stars,” I said.

“True, but the damage had already been done,” he replied.

This was the part I was interested in. Did he know about the Alon? And if so, how much?

Ayers coughed again, then held the cigar away from his face. “What am I doing wrong, Reaper?”

“Don’t try to eat it. Don’t actually take much smoke into your lungs,” I said. “It’s not a candy bar or a nipple.”

Tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes as smoke burned his throat and lungs. “Thanks.”

“What do you mean the damage had already been done?” I asked.

“The Alon attacked their home world. Now they believe all humans are violent conquerors. Sad, really. Because it seems they aren’t predisposed to rash judgements. Did they attack you immediately, or allow you onto their ship even though it is sacred to them?”

“They didn’t try to stop us.”

“Probably because they are less impulsive than we are and wanted to see if you would respect their laws and customs and traditions,” Ayers said.

“Which we knew nothing about,” I said. “The only reason we boarded the Sansein ship was to rescue a certain asshole scientist who used their DNA to create monsters.”

“My analysis of this encounter suggests he has put you on the defensive and is asking the questions while you merely explain yourself,” X-37 warned.

“So who is to blame for evoking their wrath—you, me, or the Alon? I don’t think we will ever really know,” he said.

“Be careful, Ayers,” I said.

“What are you going to do to me?” His outrage was ruined when he suppressed another cough.

I took the cigar out of his hand and patted him roughly on the shoulder. “I’m a Reaper, you son-of-a-bitch, and you turned my friend into a monster.”

“He wasn’t your friend,” Ayers argued.

“Close enough,” I said, leaning close.

“Where is he? Did your boss drop him on a planet too?” Ayers asked.

“The Sansein took his body after I killed him.”

Ayers went pale. “We’re... I mean... They won’t like that.”

“Tell me the rest, Ayers. What are you holding back? Why do you look like a ghost walked through you?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Bullshit.”

He faced me then, naked fear in his eyes. “All of the hybrids have a little bit of my DNA—sort of like a signature.”

“That could be good news for the rest of us—maybe—not so good for you,” I said.

19

I stood on the flight deck of the RWS Spirit of Wallach with CSL Locke and watched the Alon delegation disembark from one of their sleek, black ships. President Coronas and the other leaders of the combined fleet wanted me here as a contingency, but what they needed was a way to reverse time and renegotiate the size of the delegation.

The Alon VIPs had brought too many guards who looked like shock troops. One in particular stood out. I asked X-37 to analyze as much as he could about the man.

“I told security not to allow them to bring weapons,” Locke complained. “I wouldn’t have allowed it if I were in charge of ship security.”

“Me neither,” I agreed. “They’re scouting the ship.

“Beginning analysis,” X-37 said.

“Excellent, but let me make some of my own observations first. Then we can compare notes,” I said.

“I’m sure this will be very informative,” X-37 said. “Not that I’m doubting your analytic skill. It’s understood by all LAIs that human intuition is very powerful and should be respected even when it goes against the facts.”

“Thanks, X. I think,” I said.

It didn’t take long to determine the soldier I’d noticed was dangerous as fuck. He didn’t seem to be in charge of anyone, but his people treated him with overt respect normally reserved for high ranking commanders—never standing in his way, lowering their eyes when he talked to them, and doing anything he asked without hesitation.

One of his sycophants even bartered with a Wallach officer for a cigar and gave it to the soldier, or Alon champion, or whatever the hell he was. He smoked the thick cigar—that smelled like a Presidential from here—like a true connoisseur as introductions and carefully orchestrated tours of the Bright Lance continued.

I hated him already.

The man wore better armor and carried special weapons, if I was a judge of such things—and I was. His gear was dark green, almost black, and made him look more like a ground pounding soldier than a fleet officer. He carried a helmet with a visor under his arm when the rest of the Alon delegation guards wore theirs at all times—probably a regulation for most of their troops.

“Okay, X, I think I’ve sized him up,” I said. “He’ll give me problems in a fair fight.”

“Are you going to fight fair, Reaper Cain?”

“Come on, X. Are you serious?”

“Excellent, Reaper Cain. Spirit, the ship AI, is telling me he is called Victon and looks like the type to fight honorably, but only so long as he knows he outmatches his opponents,” X-37 said.

“Victon sounds like victim,” I muttered.

“Somewhat, yes. Shall I inform his attendants of this cultural and language subtly?”

“He has attendants?”

“He is the Champion of Alon,” X-37 said. “Spirit is unable to determine exactly what that means from her analysis of the parlay agreement, only that the title exists and he is treated as a valued person even among this very important delegation.”

“I figured he was special because he doesn’t have to wear his helmet like all the other Alon schmucks. If he wants to brawl, I’ll show him what a fair fight is.”

“You’ve undoubtedly observed and analyzed the matching combat knives positioned under his tunic near his utility belt. The garment is more like a coat that can be opened, similar to your jacket in which you have concealed many dangerous tools—including your mask and stealth cloak.”

“I missed those. The blade on his left thigh rig seems more like a threat—easier to access and larger,” I said feeling a bit chastised. Missing weapons, even those that were concealed, could cost me my life. I had to be more observant. All of this flying around in ships and dropping down to planets had pushed me off my regular game.

The weapon that had drawn my focus was unique. It had two hilts, one at a ninety-degree angle from the cutting edge and another to accommodate a more traditional fighting grip. Strapped across his back, also concealed by his field jacket, was a long handle—probably connected to an axe or hammer.

Like the other men in the group, he had a large handgun and extra magazines in drop holsters from his right thigh rig.

“At least they didn’t bring rocket launchers and long guns,” I muttered.

Locke looked toward the ship guards around the flight deck. “Our people are ready if they try anything, I hope.”

“What’s the matter, Locke?”

“Nothing. Being the Chief Squad Leader doesn’t have as much prestige as it used to. I’m not sure what happened,” the man said.

I had always liked Locke; the stocky fighter was tough as they came and smart.

“They made you the CFL of the fleet,” I said.

“Which means my authority is spread across hundreds of ships I’ve never visited. On Wallach, I visited every post three times a year,” he said. “Traveling in the exodus fleet has been a learning experience to say the least. I can’t wait until we find a new home and cease this interstellar wandering.”

The procession began to move. Locke and I followed, hanging back to avoid drawing too much attention. There were a lot of people with a lot of weapons on both sides of this delegation.

“The Spirit of Wallach is a big ship. This meeting will be held in the main auditorium,” Locke said, sauntering beside me as we watched all of the Alon guards.

“These asshats don’t look like guards, they look like soldiers—like shock troops,” I said.

“I was hoping that was just my imagination,” Locke said. He tapped something on his arm band, then spoke quietly. “Put green and blue squads on standby.”

A pause.

“I know what the general said, but I’m telling you to do it,” Locke ordered.

“Problems?” I asked.

“Always,” he said. “Ship security normally does a good job. But this is the first time in recorded history that we have hosted an Alon delegation of this size.”

“Why did Coronas agree to it?” I asked.

“She’s the best president we’ve ever had, but she’s still a politician. Apparently, the Alon made a promise that was too big to ignore,” Locke said.

We approached the door to the ship’s central auditorium just as Alon guards posted on each side of the opening. Nervous ship guards joined them, outnumbering the visitors by a large margin.

“CSL Locke, it’s good to see you,” the ship security supervisor said. “I’m assuming you have our back if things go sideways.”

The man tried to make it sound like a joke but the Alon soldiers didn’t respond. They had their visors down, covering their faces almost to their chins.

“My men are always ready,” Locke said, making sure the guests heard as well as the Spirit of Wallach security staff. He faced me for a second. “I’m going to stay here, Reaper. Good luck on the inside.”

“I’ll call you if I need you,” I said.

He gave me an affirmative hand signal.

* * *

“I don’t like anything about this meeting, X,” I said. “The more I see, the more I’m amazed this is happening.”

“It does violate several of the Wallach military’s long-established protocols,” X-37 said. “I am reviewing all of their standard operating procedures now.”

“Well, keep your eyes open and let me know if I miss anything,” I said.

When president Coronas and her entourage met with the Alon emissaries, most of the other central auditorium seats remained vacant. I still noted that there were a lot more people in this first contact meeting then there should be. There was too much pomp and ceremony.

Or maybe not. What do I know about peace negotiations?

Coronas subtly motioned me to move closer so that I could hear what the top leaders were saying. I took a position where I could defend her or attack the newcomers depending on what happened.

President Coronas introduced herself.

The head of the Alon delegation paused for a respectful moment, and then did the same. “I am Tross Degron, a humble delegate of the Alon Empire.”

“I don’t like the sound of that, X,” I subvocalized.

“I predict it will get better,” X-37 said. “And in case my inflection was insufficient to convey my true meaning, I meant that sarcastically.”

“Thanks, X.”

“My people have reviewed your proposal for a cease-fire and possible alliance,” Coronas said.

The room went quiet. I looked at everyone so that X-37 could scan their features and make a recording for future reference. At the same time, my LAI pulled up as much information as possible on the proposed agreement. Some of the information was restricted even though we were authorized to be in this room.

“And my people have reviewed and documented your objections to conditions 3AA, 7B, and 47A,” Tross Degron said. “I’m authorized to purge those from our proposal. You may maintain control of your own military and other resources. The main stipulation is that you assist us in the defense of our system from the Sansein.”

“Shouldn’t Coronas and the others be more concerned at the sudden gesture of goodwill?” I asked X-37.

“I do not believe they fully appreciate the threat,” X-37 said. “What they see is an opportunity to end the hostilities with the Alon. This could provide a chance to establish a new home world and assemble resources.”

Coronas, Rejon, and the Alon ambassador discussed several layers of details—arguing for hours. It took all of my Reaper training to remain alert throughout the discussion.

“There is one thing more important than all the rest,” Tross Degron said. “Something you must remember before you consider risking the welfare of your people.”

President Coronas crossed her arms and leaned back slightly, her silence a statement. The man was merely an emissary. She was the leader of an entire people.

“The Sansein are building the largest, most deadly fleet we’ve ever seen. Even now they are moving on New Ralon,” Ambassador Degron said.

“I see.” Coronas didn’t hesitate. “You need us to defend your home world. Perhaps you are not negotiating from a position of strength.”

“Do not presume we are weak,” Degron said. “It would only take a small portion of our fleet to destroy your ships, but the Sansein armada will make no distinction between my people and yours.”

20

When the meeting finally ended, I followed the emissaries out—keeping an eye on Victon. He stared at me, ignoring the people around him. I’d seen the look before. There was a mean darkness in this hero of the Alon people. He needed to prove himself and would do anything to reign supreme as his people’s number one fighter.

Locke and one of his eight-man squads stood by with a virtual army of ship security, silently observing the procession. According to X, he had two other squads concealed—not wanting to show his full strength to the strangers. It no longer seemed like ship security had a problem accepting help. They'd realized how formidable these so-called guards were.

“Relax, Locke. These are allies now, didn't you get the memo?” I asked.

“What is a memo?” he asked.

“A short message—don't worry about it,” I said, watching the Alon champion—who was now looking at me like we were natural born enemies.

A few moments passed while we watched the ceremonies. The parting of two groups was as tedious as the initial meeting had been.

“This was poorly done,” Locke said. “No respectable guest would bring such a show of force to a peace negotiation.”

“Stop thinking like someone from Wallach,” I said. “Think like the Alon.”

He took a long time to respond. “I thought I knew their culture from reading and watching documentary holos of our past encounters. Now I see reality is a bit different. I don’t trust them.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” I said. “Not until they prove themselves.”

“That is good policy,” Locke said. “One I wish our leaders remembered.”

“What’s next, Locke?” I asked.

He kept his attention on the last members of the delegation to board the Alon ship. “I don’t know if Rejon and Coronas told you, but they have agreed to split the fleet.”

“Doesn’t seem like the best time for that kind of change,” I commented.

Locke laughed ruefully. “You and I are just brawlers to them. What do we know?”

“I’m heading back to the Jellybird. I want to keep an eye on that delegation. Pretty sure we haven’t seen the last of Victon.”

“Your LAI is very thorough. I was wondering if you knew the name of their champion,” Locke said. He faced me and offered a hand clasp, which I returned. “I’m glad you’re on our side, Reaper. We’ll get through this, but it’s going to be ugly.”

“No doubt,” I said.

* * *

I couldn’t get thoughts of the Alon delegation out of my head. Nothing about the situation was ideal. We were facing not one, but two vastly superior forces, and I had a sinking feeling they both wanted to wipe us out—no matter what their emissary said during the negotiations.

The Jellybird patrolled the fleet around the Spirit of Wallach, no longer assigned to assisting with slip tunnel observation. Two things were obvious: President Coronas was taking security seriously throughout the fleet, and they had decided to split the Wallach and Xad forces into equal halves.

Elise came onto the bridge and turned up the lights a notch. “Are you sleeping or just brooding in the dark?”

“Is there a difference?”

She rolled her eyes. “Poor Reaper. The weight of the fleet is on his shoulders.”

“I was just thinking we might be better off heading back the way we came. The Union was bad, but this predicament is about a hundred times worse.”

“I’d rather die out here than see any part of the Union again,” Elise said.

“If there’s one thing any good ground pounder like me knows, it’s to leave fleet business to the fleet.”

“You still consider yourself a ground pounder, not a Reaper?” Elise asked.

“Once a ground pounder, always a ground pounder. Those were simpler days. Wouldn’t mind getting back to that life someday. Put all the secret missions and assassinations behind me,” I said.

“Yeah, right.” Elise wasn’t convinced and neither was I.

“Would you like to see our fleet’s parting ways?” Jelly asked.

“Why not? Put it up on the holo.”

Images of the entire exodus fleet coalesced. Their order of flight was more organized than ever before—just so they could begin the chaotic process of splitting it in half.

“That’s a lot of ships,” Elise whispered.

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s what’s left of humanity,” I said, then fired up a cigar.

Rejon and Captain Younger were in charge of the other half of the Wallach-Xad fleet now, which kind of sucked. I liked working with them when it came to ship stuff. But I also enjoyed doing the squad level fighting alongside Locke and his people.

So maybe it was an even trade.

“What can you tell me about the Alon ships?” I asked.

Jelly changed the view to a wire frame display of an Alon warship. Large sections were blank or labeled unknown details, but what I saw was an economy of design that gave them sleek style, like well-balanced weapons.

“They are not painted or surfaced as the Wallach-Xad engineers first postulated,” Jelly said.

“I remember they thought the ships were covered with a sensor replant mechanism. Less effective than a Union stealth technology but good,” I said, reading the subtext as I talked.

“The consensus among fleet AIs and the engineers is that the Alon ships are made from a complex alloy—with many raw materials from different regions of space. There is a surprising variance to the combination of base minerals,” Jelly said. “Captain, are you tired? You appear to be falling asleep.”

“No. I’m okay. How are we getting all of this new information on the Alon ships?” I asked, sitting up straighter—because I had slid down almost far enough to sleep in the chair.

“The Alon have shared all of their unclassified information about their technology in a gesture of goodwill,” X-37 explained.

“Really,” I said.

“I’m sure they only have our best interests in mind,” Elise said. “Stop being such a cynical, spec ops trained assassin and give people a little credit.”

“Sure,” I said. “How could anything about this weird alliance go wrong?”

* * *

The Spirit of Wallach emerged from the slip tunnel after a strong contingent of small and midsized Wallach warships scouted the way, setting up security around the opening before the flagship entered the Alon system.

Warning alerts sounded in my ear and throughout the ship.

“What’s going on, Jelly? Is this the right system?”

“This is the Alon home system, and there is a truly amazing Alon fleet at various lagrangian points to defend their home world. There is also a Sansein armada present that seems to have been here for some time,” Jelly said as our ship swooshed ahead of the Spirit of Wallach with our stealth cloak activated.

“What the actual fuck is this?” I said, leaning toward the display.

The fact that there were two massive armadas already in the system was alarming, but what really gave me a bad feeling was that they weren’t fighting each other. We’d scrimmaged against the Alon, then made a deal to help them defend their home against some sort of Sansein super fleet.

But instead we’d arrived like awkward house guests.

Not good.

Not good at all.

“It appears that all ships in the Alon system are ready for battle but not engaged in hostilities,” Jelly advised. “The Spirit of Wallach is transmitting high priority instructions on our most encrypted channel. Please stand by for more information. This situation does not seem to be what the Alon delegation promised.”

“How far to the nearest slip tunnel out of here?” Elise asked in a rush, aware that it was impossible to reverse the Wallach-Xad fleet while there were still ships coming through the opening behind us.

“Not more than a half day travel, but it is blocked by the Sansein forces,” Jelly said.

“Yeah, is that model accurate?” I asked, viewing the ships interpretation of signals from the far side of the system.

Thousands of huge, capital class ships maintained a web-like formation, seeming stationary but moving along with the slip tunnel opening, because everything in space was moving even when it wasn’t. When Jelly magnified the image, it was smaller ships, probably the size of Union super carriers, and there were even more of them. The pattern continued until the number of Sansein ships was impossible to imagine.

The Alon fleets, plural, guarding their home were like nothing I’d ever heard of in all of the Union history, but still appeared vulnerable to the Sansein presence. The combined Wallach-Xad fleet barely seemed to matter in this scenario.

“Elise, we need to gear up,” I said. “Tom and Henshaw to the bridge. We have an emergency.”

“On my way,” Tom responded. Henshaw’s response was less enthusiastic, as though he was only partially awake.

Elise and I hurried to the armory and slipped into our archangel gear in record time. Jelly tried to keep us updated, posting us on the chaotic efforts of the fleet to deal with the betrayal. I was trying to wrap my head around why the Alon had gone to such extremes to bring us here.

“I don't get it,” Elise said. “What was the point of their fancy delegation if they already knew this was the situation?”

“Come on, Elise. You know the answer. They were scouting the ship. It won't be long before they try to board the Spirit of Wallach, and we need to be there to put a stop to it.” I hailed Path over the comms. “Path, are you ready?”

“I am always ready, Cain,” he said.

Looking around, I winked at Elise. She had everything but her helmet in place. “I wouldn't have to ask if I could see him here.”

He's probably already waiting for us on the flight deck,” she said. “Let's get moving, Reaper. It’s time to show these bastards what happens when they mess with us.”

21

The Jellybird pulled close to the RWS Spirit of Wallach, stealth cloak still working against the Alon ships that were attempting to find us. Elise yelled at me to hurry up and get into my micro-fighter.

I looked at the little ship, then my Archangel armor that I had changed to a flat black color.

Elise started shaking her head as though she’d read my mind. “You’re crazier than I am, Reaper.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” I approached the edge of our little makeshift flight deck. “Jelly, open the door. I’m going to jump for it. Get as close as you can to the Spirit so I don’t miss.”

Five seconds later, Elise was standing at my side. “When you’re right you’re right. No use putting on the fighter harness and having to take it off again when we land on the Spirit.”

Path joined us.

“Stay here and defend the Jellybird,” I said.

“Whatever happens, I will be where I am needed,” Path said.

“That fucking works for me,” I said. “Let's do this.”

“I will tell you when it is time to jump,” Jelly said. “You should know, however, that the Alon are aggressively searching for us. They haven't figured out how to defeat our stealth cloak but could get lucky if they are persistent.”

“Good to know. Keep up the good work.” I put on my helmet and secured it. Elise, Path, and I did pre-combat inspections to be ready for whatever came next.

“Thirty seconds to jump,” Elise said. “We are coming around the Spirit of Wallach now. Be warned, there are small ships engaged in dogfights and Alon boarding craft are swarming all major battleships in the Wallach-Xad fleet.”

“We’re ready,” Path said.

The view that greeted us as we made our final approach was spectacular. I’d rarely seen space combat this close. The Alon fighters were five times the size of a micro fighter. They hunted Wallach defenders and double or triple teamed them.

Another group of small ships, slightly bigger and more heavily armored than fighters, swooped across the exterior of the Spirit of Wallach, blasting point defense weapons to clear a path for boarding craft that were already deploying shock troops into the flagship by way of the main flight deck.

“Scene looks hot,” I said. “Be ready to fight as soon as you’re inside.”

“Duh,” Elise said.

“This isn’t like anything you’ve done before. Stay sharp and don’t take unnecessary chances,” I said.

She nodded vigorously inside her helmet, which made me think she was really listening this time. Maybe she was still a kid, and maybe she had more experience than most veteran spec ops soldiers, but I was still glad she knew this was serious. We were fighting under a new set of rules without really knowing what they were.

The only reason I wasn’t thinking about the Sansein super fleet yet was because the Alon were actively attacking.

“Give me an update, X,” I said as I prepared to jump.

“The Alon are sending messages to the Sansein demanding they withdraw now that they have turned us over to them for justice,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests they were trying to buy time by sacrificing us.”

“Prepare to jump, Captain,” Jelly said. “Unless I can talk you into another course of action. I could attempt to land amid the confusion.”

“Wouldn’t work. You’d be shot to hell and that doesn’t do us any good.”

“The flight deck is more than large enough on the Spirit of Wallach,” Jelly argued.

“Nope, and that is my final order. We’re going in our Archangel gear. You just be ready to send Path when I need him. Or better yet, pick us up when we need to run,” I said.

“As you wish, Captain,” Jelly said. “Prepare to jump. Three, two, one. Jump!”

Elise and I leapt from the Jellybird to the RWS Spirit of Wallach. The distance wasn’t great but the moment we were in the void the gap between ships felt huge. Jelly turned and raced away, with Path watching us from the containment field of her little launch deck.

“We’re going to make it, Reaper!” Elise shouted.

As we crossed a distance that seemed a lot greater now, I stared into the firefight already in progress on the flagship. The containment field made the scene a bit blurry, but I saw muzzle flashes of the ship security forces and the Alon. At least these enemies didn’t have something more technologically advanced.

I hit the ground running, as did Elise. “Spread out but not too much.”

“Gotcha,” was all Elise said before she started shooting at Alon shock troops.

I recognized the combat uniforms and armor of the Alon soldiers. Face-shields down, they all looked the same. A squad diverted from their assignment to face me, weapons firing the moment they took aim.

I lobbed a grenade, then shifted my attention to the next group of Alon. The explosion sent one man flying into a wall as the others jumped clear. With plenty of targets to choose from, I moved on knowing they would hesitate to fire on me if I was among their ranks.

Once I caught a large group of them pressing toward Wallach security forces who were attempting to retake the flight deck, I started working them over with my chain gun, leaving my HDK Dominator clipped to the back of my Archangel gear.

“Get off my ship, you Alon motherfuckers!” I shouted, mowing them down.

“Good work, Reaper Cain. Your attack is proving brutally efficient,” X-37 said.

I ignored my LAI. Killing wasn’t something I wanted to think about when I was doing it. These humans were the enemy. They’d betrayed us and were killing my friends, so I was letting them have it.

Elise moved on my flank, shooting with her HDK. Unlike previous fights, she was grimly silent, refraining from sarcasm or talking trash.

“All right, Elise,” I said. “Get ready to move in a different direction. We have the Alon’s attention now and their retaliation is going to be ruthless.”

Another shuttle landed in the bay, skidding across the flight deck until it stopped. Alon shock troops poured out of it. Among them was a heavy gun crew with something a lot like I was using on them. The fire team included two men carrying bunker shields with a small gap between them where the big gun barrel soon poked through.

“Now, Elise! Let’s get the fuck someplace new!” I covered her, pounding the portable bunker team with my heavy gun as Elise changed positions.

“I’m covering you,” she said the moment she reached one of the reinforced workstations at the edge of the main flight line.

“Moving!” I shouted like I was still in the infantry.

She placed accurate fire on the enemy, disrupting their attempt to mow me down. I was almost to safety when a burst hit me in the legs, tripping me.

Falling forward, I dove and rolled the rest of the way to cover, then crawled to a position where I could peek up and shoot back.

More and more shuttles landed. Alon troops swarmed the deck.

“Fuck these assholes,” Elise shouted.

Wallach security forces and Locke’s soldiers fought desperately, dragging their wounded to cover and trying to keep the invaders from destroying the rest of the small ships—everything from evacuation shuttles to fighters. Once these were destroyed, the Alon would sweep the rest of the ship, take the bridge and the engine rooms, and it would be over.

“Reaper, are you on this channel?” Locke asked.

“I am now,” I said. “Your ship AI just beeped us in.”

“Thanks for coming,” Locke said. “We might be able to hold them if nothing else goes wrong. I’m bringing up two more teams and all of our personnel with any combat training whatsoever.”

“Good,” I said, switching my ammo belt to a new box on the back of my armor.

The Alon shuttles stopped coming. I got a bad feeling. Seconds later, a new alert blurred above the sound of battle. The primary blast shield closed over the flight deck, eliminating any chance of escape or reinforcements from other Wallach ships.

“Locke,” I said. “Why are they closing the blast doors? I thought that was a last-ditch defense or used when the containment fields failed over the launch zone.”

Blast doors were, in this scenario, semi-permanent and couldn’t be opened without crews of engineers, which wasn’t great news for ships that were out and needed to land for fuel or repairs.

The regular doors had already been disabled during the initial Alon assault. This was something different and didn’t bode well for our dwindling chance of surviving this battle.

“The Sansein are firing some sort of pod at the flight deck,” X-37 said. “AI Spirit asked me to relay the information. There is a lot going on with the comm systems right now.”

“Pods?” I asked.

“Please don’t ask for more information, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I have none.”

“All crew, brace for impact,” a voice announced on the ship intercom. “Unknown vessels approaching on a collision course with blast doors.”

The message repeated over and over. Even the Alon moved to hard points of cover to lick their wounds and figure out what the hell was happening. I wondered how much information their own combat controls were feeding them.

“The Sansein are firing energy weapons at the blast doors. I suspect they will cause a breach,” X-37 said. “The updates are a bit confusing, Reaper Cain. My apologies. No other ships have drawn the direct attention of the Sansein. The bulk of their fleet has remained near the slip tunnel exit of this system.”

Light flared as the blast doors vanished. Seconds later, pods slammed into the deck and broke open. Slayers spilled out of each smashed pod.

“Attention humans of all factions,” a weird, computer translated voice said over the ship intercom. “You created monsters without our permission. This is what you get for your evil. A false change is a false hope of progression. Face your sins and die.”

I peeked from behind cover, checking each Slayer that climbed from the wreckage of the deck. Among them, Briggs stood at least as monstrous as the others.

The first human to fall to the Slayers was an Alon trooper who had frozen in stunned horror. A human-Sansein hybrid grabbed the man’s head in both oversized hands and pulled it from its shoulders. Blood squirted upward.

“Fuck this shit,” Elise said, and started shooting.

“The Alon are falling back,” Locke reported. “Some of those monsters look different. Did the Alon have a Slayer program that went wrong?”

The statement didn’t make any sense. I filed it for consideration when there wasn’t so much death and chaos. “The Slayers are attacking everyone,” I said. “Where are you? Do you need us to link up with your squad?”

“I have my people on the other side of the flight deck, blocking any advance toward the engineering level or the bridge,” Locke said. “Where did they get Slayers?”

“From Ayers,” I said, refusing to consider the possibility that the Alon had sponsored the same type of insane research to create super soldiers from Alien DNA.

“These are different,” Elise said. “The Sansein marked them. Not all of them look right.”

“None of them look right,” I said.

“It seems like there are a lot of them,” Elise said. “Look at the freaks.”

She wasn’t wrong. Each Slayer was dark blue, almost black with darker, irregular spots all over. Some had human-like tattoos that I couldn’t see clearly from this distance. What I did see were vertical slashes of white down their faces. Each monster was unique from the others.

Briggs only had one face slash for some reason, but I could also distinguish him from the others by the way he moved and how he avoided fighting unless pressed. Six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than I remembered, he moved like he was in pain.

An impact to the ship shields rocked everyone sideways. I grabbed the bulkhead to the hallway we’d ducked into for cover. The blast door could be dropped to cut us off from the flight deck, causing me to wonder why this hadn’t been done yet. The quickest way to protect the rest of the ship would be to quarantine this area.

“Reaper Cain, this is Spirit, the AI of the Spirit of Wallach,” a voice said in my ear. “Your LAI has allowed me to speak directly to you when possible. There is an Alon squad moving through hallways in an effort to attack you from the rear.”

“Thanks, Spirit.” I hand signaled Elise, who immediately faced the new threat. From my front left, a group of Alon soldiers fired from behind cover. Each shot seemed to be aimed, like suppressive fire rather than an untrained recruit firing blindly. “Spirit, why aren’t you sealing off this area?”

“There has been sabotage,” the Ship AI answered. “I have several teams looking at it. That was also the reason it took me so long to drop the external blast doors—for all the good it did.”

“That fucking peace delegation!” Elise fired at an Alon position, ducked back, reloaded, and searched for another target.

We spent most of our time surprising our enemies, just trying to keep them at bay until help could arrive. Outnumbered, outgunned, and constantly in danger of being overrun by alien monsters, the situation didn’t seem like it could get any worse.

Slightly closer to my right than the main Alon force, behind a damaged fighter on the flight deck, a pair of ship security soldiers attempted to treat a third member of their group who’d suffered a catastrophic injury of some sort. All I could see from my angle was the thrashing victim and panicked, life-saving efforts to hold him down and apply a tourniquet.

“Spirit, how long before those Alon creepers get to us?”

“Reaper, I believe you have nearly two minutes,” the ship AI answered.

“Cover me, Elise.”

“Covering.”

I sprinted to the wounded security officers, tapped one of them on the shoulder, and pointed at the enemy. He stepped away from his friend and started shooting. I pulled my medical pack as I assessed the damaged man, while the other security officer attempted to keep him from clawing at his own bullet wound.

After snapping open one of the med packets, I grabbed a small tube of clotting gel, then squirted it into the wound. Almost in the same movement, I stripped open a pressure bandage and pushed it against the wound. Then I wrapped his arm several times with the bandage and tied it off.

“What’s your name, soldier?” I asked.

“David…” The rest of what he said was unintelligible.

“All right, David, I’m going to give you something for pain,” I said.

He looked at me then, shaking his head fiercely, eyes wild with fury. “No! I can’t go to sleep now. I can’t leave my team! Got to fight.”

“I admire your determination, but you are combat ineffective,” I said, then jabbed a short needle into his neck between the collar of his armor and his helmet.

“That’s supposed to go into a limb, leg preferably,” said the other security officer who was helping me with first aid.

“Well, I can’t get to his leg right now.” I looked her over and didn’t see any wounds. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then get back in the fight,” I said. “My partner is going to need me sooner rather than later.”

“Thanks, whoever you are,” the security officer said. “Why won’t they shut the blast doors in this area from the boarders?”

“There was some kind of sabotage,” I answered, then ran back to Elise, shooting on the move because it didn’t look like she had time to cover me any more than she already was.

“You’re back,” Elise said.

A bullet pinged off her armor, leaving a groove.

“The Alon weapons are more than just supersonic slugs,” I said.

“Maybe we can ask them about that during our next joint task force training session… oh wait, they betrayed us and are trying to murder us,” she said. “I knew this was going to be a shit show.”

“It’s not so bad. We’re cut off from help, surrounded by enemies—all of which are either better armed or are monstrous alien hybrids in a killing frenzy. What could go wrong,” I joked.

“Locke for Cain, can you read me?”

“Go, for Cain,” I said.

“That Alon champion is looking for you, I think,” Locke said. “I have injured from three different encounters reporting the man tried to beat information out of them, always demanding to know the location of the Reaper.”

“He should be able to find me,” I said, scanning the flight deck and each of the doorways and maintenance hatches I could see from my position.

“From the few Alon I’ve been able to detain and interrogate, there were multiple breach points to the ship. I’m thinking there was significant sabotage and planning on the part of our new not so peaceful or trustworthy allies. They have special teams conducting missions, which means I need to divert significant resources to the engine room and the bridge,” Locke said. “If you see ship security or my teams pulling back from this particular fight, that’s the reason.”

“Understood, Locke. Do what you gotta do.”

22

“I’m not sure if this is a problem or not,” Elise said. “But Briggs is fighting by himself while all of the other Slayers run in groups of three or more. And he’s getting owned by a bunch of Alon jerkoffs.”

“Nothing I can do about that right now,” I said as I reloaded. My chain gun was too hot to fire and I was relying on the HDK for a while. “X, are you still working with Spirit?”

“I am, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “What can I do for you?”

“Give me a status report on that squad she said was trying to sneak up behind us.”

“They will navigate the final portion of the hallway and contact you in less than forty-five seconds,” X-37 said.

“Elise, do you have any smoke grenades?” I asked.

She snapped her face toward me for one second, then back to the zone she had been covering. “You never told me to bring smoke grenades.”

“Kids these days,” I said, pulling one of two smoke grenades I had attached to my gear prior to this mission and deploying it to conceal our position. “You train them for war and they can’t even remember to bring smoke.”

“I thought you were talking about cigars and ignored you,” she said. “Why are you such an asshole right now?” Then she fired a stream of rounds at a pair of Alon shock troopers making a move against us—which I took as a very good sign it was part of a coordinated attack.

A full squad of Alon commandos emerged from the hallway, then hesitated when they couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know if they had any type of enhanced optics, but I knew I did. Firing at their heat signatures, I dropped three of them before they knew what was happening.

They started shouting in a language I didn’t understand—or maybe it was some sort of combat shorthand—and spread out into doorways and recessed areas that provided at least some cover.

Two more groups assaulted us from the flight deck. Elise fired faster and faster. At this rate, we were both going to run out of ammunition before the battle was over.

“Locke, we are pinned down and facing superior numbers. Low on ammunition and options,” I said.

“I read you, Reaper. I’m sending what I can your way. How long can you hold in your Archangel armor if you run out of ammunition?” Locke asked, his voice garbled by noise and radio static.

“As long as we have to,” I answered. “I wouldn’t say no to immediate relief though.”

“What’s the plan?” Elise asked.

“We need to move, link up with a Wallach force, and defend critical areas of the ship,” I said. “The problem is we can’t deny Alon access to the flight deck, which means they can just keep pushing in reinforcements until they overwhelm us. But that’s more of a fleet problem right now. We have to rely on the other ships to keep their boarding craft away from the flagship.”

I locked my HDK dominator to my armor and pulled the chain gun into position. “I’ve got one last hurrah with this thing. When I open up, I want you to cut across toward hallway 12B. When you get there, try to cover my movement.”

“Gotcha,” she said.

“Are you ready?”

“How can I possibly be ready for something like this? Of course I’m not ready. But we’re going to do it anyway, aren’t we?”

“Yep. On one. Three, two, one!”

I stepped out from cover and began pumping heavy rounds into the slowly dispersing smoke. Growling curses, I wished I had a cigar, but the helmet made that impossible. Elise sprinted to our rally point.

Alon commandos pressed through the smoke, all of them firing on the move as I slipped sideways to the last point of cover before I was forced to run for it. Alon shock troops advanced across the flight deck, one of them lobbing a grenade. It bounced near enough to my position to knock me off my feet when it exploded.

Without the Archangel armor, I’d be dead or incapacitated.

After fighting back to my feet, I scrambled away from the scene as Elise screamed at me to run. I tossed my last smoke grenade over my shoulder to help conceal my movements.

“Come on, Reaper! Why are you so fucking slow?” Elise cursed.

I slid behind the cover of the new hallway’s bulkhead—and realized it was one of the twenty access points to the flight deck that had been closed. We’d been unable to see far enough into the hallway from our previous position. Now we were stuck in a bad spot.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” I muttered.

“Most of the Slayers have abandoned the flight deck in favor of running the hallways in search of prey,” X-37 said. “Spirit apologizes for not relaying this herself, but she is extremely busy coordinating a battle between Wallach small ships and approaching Alon boarding crafts and their escorts.”

“What can we do to keep Alon reinforcements off this ship?” I asked, using an unexplained lull in the fighting to scan the containment field and ruined external blast doors. The Sansein pods had really done a number on them.

“Can you please surveille the flight deck, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

I complied using my regular vision and also my enhanced optics. The Archangel helmet boosted the effect of both. The smoke was clearing, and I saw a disturbing number of Alon soldiers converging on rally points and improving their positions by moving ship parts, equipment crates, and other obstacles to temporary bases.

“There are a lot of them,” Elise said in a low voice.

“X, can you tell me how many hallways still have access to this flight deck?” I asked.

“There are seven unobstructed hallways of the original twenty-three that had access to this area,” X-37 said. “However, two of these have closed blast doors deeper into their interior passages and are of little use to either side of this conflict.”

“That’s good for the ship security, but not so good for us,” I said. “How many of the Wallach fighters are on the same side of these doors as we are?”

“There are two four-man ship security teams, and Locke has three depleted squads of his soldiers,” X-37 said. “They are treating wounded, attempting to resupply, and not in a good position to help you in the near future. The recommendation is to avoid contact with the enemy until you have help.”

“Where is Victon?” I asked.

“Unknown,” X-37 said. “Are you wanting to do something foolish, like seek him out and fight man-to-man?”

“Come on, X, would I do something like that?” I asked.

“My analysis says that you would definitely do something like that,” X-37 said, adding emphasis to the last few words. “What my analysis cannot determine is why you think that would help any part of our situation.”

“It’s a hunch,” I said.

Elise, who I expected to argue with me and call me names, almost agreed. “We have to fight all of them, so might as well start with their champion, or whatever.”

“Regardless, Reaper Cain, I am unable to locate Victon, the Champion of Alon,” X-37 said.

“Are you lying to me, X?” I asked carefully.

“We discussed this, Reaper Cain. I would only lie to you if I thought it was in your best interest and in the spirit of completing the mission assigned to us,” X-37 said.

“Not really an answer,” I said.

“Nevertheless, I am unable to locate the person you wish to challenge to a death match,” X-37 said.

“You’re so full of shit,” I said.

“Impossible, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “We also have discussed my lack of physical form in detail and you know I can’t attain such a state of metabolic blockage.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Elise said. “But I think we should table an argument for later. The Alon are looking like they’re ready for another push. Once they realize how shitty our position is, they’ll rush us.”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Wait, what? I was hoping you would tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong, kid.”

“Is now a good time to tell you that the hybrid monsters commonly referred to as Slayers have massed into a large group and are about to flow back into the battle from hallway 3C?” X-37 asked.

“No, X. Now is not a good time,” I said. “Tell them to go back.”

“Was that a joke, Reaper Cain?”

I didn’t bother to answer. “Can you get a hold of the Jelly or anybody else that might help us out?”

“I’m here, Captain,” Jelly said. “We have been monitoring your progress. Path is requesting permission to join the fight.”

This gave me mixed feelings. There wasn’t anyone I knew who was a better fighter, but that wouldn’t save him from where this battle was going. I’d been in a lot of no-win situations and this one took the prize for the biggest gaggle fuck of them all.

“I can look after myself,” Path finally said.

“I’ll be honest, Path, we could use your help,” I finally said.

“Then I will make my jump,” he said. “And I will bring some extra ammunition.”

Elise perked up, alarmed. “Path, the blast doors are still mostly closed. You’ll have to dive through one of the holes the pods made, and if you miss you’ll bounce into the void.”

“That is a risk I’m willing to take,” Path said. “It is much better than listening to the battle that is killing my friends and doing nothing.”

“You should have talked him out of it,” Elise said to me privately.

“No time for that,” I said. “The Alon are coming from our right flank and the Slayers are coming out of a hallway on our left. If he lands in the middle of that, he'll be screwed.”

“Kind of like we're screwed,” Elise said, shaking her helmet side to side. “Just tell me which way we’re moving, and I'm with you.”

“When Path hits the deck, we grab him and go. I'm thinking that hallway right there,” I said pointing. “It's close, and I can see there's no blast door.”

“Path has left the Jellybird,” Jelly said. “You should be seeing him now.”

The sword saint flashed through one of the openings, slowed by the containment field that kept in the atmosphere. Without that inertia dampener, he would have splattered against the wall. Instead, he hit hard, rolled twice, and came to his feet with his sword out and his helmet turning this way and that to find the closest target.

I fired on a group of Alon shock troopers intent on taking out the newcomer. Elise warned me of others moving toward our position, even as she fired slow controlled bursts.

“Running low on ammunition, Reaper,” Elise said.

I'd come with two main weapons and had been alternating between each. I also had more space to carry useful things like bullets—but I was still running low. “Do your best. It may be a while before we get relief or resupply.”

“Are we ready to go?” she asked.

“Path, come with us,” I said, leading the way with my HDK Dominator up and ready.

“I am right behind you,” Path said.

A trio of Slayers blocked our progress. Opening fire, I advanced but realized the rounds didn't have the knock down power I needed to clear all three of them out of the way. Focusing my firepower on the most aggressive creature was the best I could do.

The other two Slayers leapt at me. Elise moved up a step and fired, taking one down with several rounds to his hip girdle and upper legs. Path shouted that he was catching up, but it was too late.

With no time to reload, I held the HDK down on its retractable sling with my right hand, extended my Reaper blade, and stabbed the monster in its gaping mouth. Teeth crushed my arm like a vice, some snapping off but others penetrating the metal.

I twisted the blade deeper.

Releasing the HDK so it hung on the sling, I drew my pistol, pressed it against the monster’s temple, and fired three times. I holstered, retrieved the HDK, and reloaded it. I could have clipped it to my back and switched it out for the chain gun, but I decided to stay with the small weapon for now.

“Let's go!” I shouted and led the way.

Elise took the lead. Path followed and covered her left flank while I was now in the rear position. Every three or four steps, I looked back or even turned around without stopping to make sure no one was about to slap us from behind.

Dozens of gunfights happened in various locations across the flight deck. Most of the blast door was still down to keep ships out, but I saw glimpses of the battle beyond our situation and it looked furious.

“Talk to me, X,” I said.

“My analysis suggests that you should leave the flight deck and seek out a better place to have a battle,” X-37 said. “Ideally, someplace where you have the advantage in terrain, support elements, and resupply.”

Elise looked back. “Path! Watch that hallway!”

The sword saint pivoted in time to face a trio of Slayers. The first two jumped on him, carrying him to the ground despite the grievous wounds his sword did to them. The third looked at me, then pounced on Path with his fellows to rip him out of his armor.

Elise sprinted to the rescue—only a few strides—and beat me to Path’s side, only to be ambushed by another trio of the hybrid monsters.

“X, how many are there?”

“Unknown, but there was a limited number taken by the Sansein from Doctor Ayers,” X-37 said.

When I reached my friends, I first checked the hallway that had disgorged the first six monsters. Seeing nothing, I helped Path and Elise.

Surprisingly, Elise was a much better ground fighter than the sword saint. Her attackers were unable to keep her on the ground, which gave me an opportunity.

Grabbing the nearest Slayer by a handful of its tentacles, I yanked it backward off its feet. I stepped on its throat, yanked my chain gun around from my back, and fired a dozen large caliber rounds into its face.

Some of the bullets punctured the deck, others ricocheted, but all went through the Slayer’s head first.

I turned to find Elise on her feet, her sword slicing through the air to take off her opponent’s head. The last of her enemies jumped at her with its mouth open wide enough to swallow her head—and that was where I placed the last of the chain gun rounds.

Casting the weapon aside, I rushed toward Path who had managed to kill one of his opponents but was still on his back, smashed into the hallway corner by the other two. Elise moved on my right, blade ready.

“Pin it to the wall,” I shouted.

Elise lunged with her sword, stabbing the second to last Slayer through the chest and her blade sunk into the wall. I stepped close with my HDK and emptied the magazine, stitching it with bullet holes from throat to groin.

“Watch out for my sword!” Elise shouted, still pulling back her hand.

The last enemy stood, looked past us, and turned to run. I shot the creature in the back of its feather-scaled head, dropping it face-first onto the deck. When I turned the way we had come, I realized what had made the Slayer flee.

23

My enhanced vision allowed me to better see what was beyond the damaged blast door. Locke and his people barely looked at the holes the Slayer pods had made. They didn’t spot the Sansein vessel reaching through the gaps with hundred-meter long tentacles made from something that only looked like crystal.

“Locke!” I shouted the moment I saw him gathering his weary troops with an equally bedraggled cluster of ship security personnel.

Alon forces were also licking their wounds, keeping a careful distance from the defenders of the Wallach flagship. It was a temporary lull in the battle, an armistice born of exhaustion and the lingering horror both sides felt from the ordeal with the Slayers.

“Reaper! We survived,” Locke said, striding toward me like he might shake my hand and pat me roughly on the shoulder. “Let’s rally and show these Alon interlopers the door!”

“Locke, behind you!”

The CSL of all Wallach forces turned to see the blast door disappearing as the Sansein tentacles ripped it free and cast it into the void. A large alien vessel deployed dozens of smaller troop transports, and before long there were alien shock troops in white armor rushing across the Spirit of Wallach flight deck.

Locke and his people scrambled to face the new threat, firing what ammunition they had left, and were immediately overrun by the attackers wearing armor so white it hurt my eyes.

“The assholes killed Locke!” Elise said, gripping her sword and moving toward the threat.

“Maybe. Worry about that later. Let’s find a better place to fight. We’ll lose in the open,” I said, dragging her the direction I wanted her to go.

Everything but the battery powered emergency lights above doorways and danger zones blinked out. The ship’s interior was cast in gloomy shadows as the aliens rampaged. Guns ripped off rounds, and muzzle flashes added to the visual confusion. Sound was inconsistent due to the missing exterior doors and faltering containment field at the end of the flight deck. Something exploded. A body sailed into the void, barely slowing when the invisible barrier should have bounced it back.

The Sansein shock troops slaughtered anyone in their way. A small group of Slayers emerged from one of the access hallways, froze for a second, and were slaughtered right alongside Wallach and Alon soldiers.

“Great, now the aliens Ayers pissed off are killing everyone,” I muttered. “This fucking day just can’t get any better.”

I looked for Path and Briggs as we ran but saw neither.

Others made it to the temporary safety of the ship’s complex grid of hallways and lifts, but not many. Their survival was short lived. I heard screams over the open comms and a few of the tactical networks.

Elise stared back more than once, but I forced her to continue. “We need a plan first!” I shouted at her.

“Just keep running,” X-37 said to both of us. “Let me worry about coming up with a plan to keep you alive. Although, I must state for the record that may be impossible.”

We stopped to look back only once. Nothing made any sense.

“The Wallach and Alon soldiers are still fighting each other,” Elise said, no attempt to conceal her surprise. “Couldn’t we just do that shit later?”

“Let’s get moving. Find Path. Rally what’s left of Locke’s people to defend the bridge in the engine room. If we lose either of those, the entire ship is compromised,” I said.

There were different types of hallways in the RWS Spirit of Wallach. Most were standard sized, about two meters wide and three meters high. But the crew also needed to move large pieces of equipment and there was a very real problem with long-term claustrophobia on spaceships. So there were main corridors of almost wasteful dimensions.

There were also access hatches to places that mechanics or drones had to crawl through to fix certain things. And there were stairways and elevators. I doubted any single person knew every nook and cranny of the Spirit of Wallach.

We moved quickly, not quite running, aiming our weapons down each hallway that we passed. If something popped out at us, I would need to handle it on single fire—no more fully automatic blasts. I was really going to miss the chain gun.

The worst were the intersections with four to eight connecting halls. These areas were bad for several reasons. Often large enough to make crossing dangerous if under fire, there were also too many angles to cover at once. Every hallway nexus was a potential killbox—the perfect place to ambush an enemy or get ambushed.

If we’d been working in a squad, we would bound across in groups of two or three and try to cover each other. Elise and I did the same thing, but it still felt like we were gambling every time we moved.

I wasn’t seeing nearly as many Wallach personnel as I’d hoped. Too many had been lost in the battle and the rest had been withdrawn to critical areas to wait out a siege of Alon borders. It was a strategy that couldn’t win but even X-37 had a difficult time suggesting an alternative.

From the infrequent updates I received, every major ship in the Wallach-Xad fleet was being similarly assaulted with the exception of Sansein raiders.

“X, give me some good news,” I said as we rested in a security station we found abandoned near one of the main lift junctions.

“One moment,” X-37 said. “I’m consulting my list of human colloquialisms.”

“Not necessary, X.” I covered Elise as she searched for ammunition or other supplies we could use. She came up with two magazines each that we had to unload and load into our own magazines, and three medical packs with basic combat first-aid items.

“Here is the phrase I was looking for. Do you want me to blow smoke up your orifices?” X-37 asked.

“No, X, I actually want some good news. There has to be something working in our advantage,” I said.

“Jelly advises me that she spotted Envoy near the outer perimeter of the battle, watching what is happening,” X-37 said. “So there is at least one ship not actively trying to kill us and all of our friends.”

“You see, X, I knew you could do it if you tried,” I said.

“You might also notice there are fewer and fewer contact battles between Wallach, Alon, and Sansein forces. The Slayers, so far as I can tell, are gone. So that is one less threat,” X-37 said.

I pushed down thoughts of Briggs. It would probably be for the best if he’d been killed along with the others. The last I’d seen him, the man had not only become a monster he loathed but had also been made into a battle slave of a hostile alien race.

“Let’s keep moving. I want to make sure the blast doors leading to the bridge and the engine room on the levels below us are secured and haven’t been breached or sabotaged,” I said.

“I am plotting the most efficient courses from the schematics of the ship,” X-37 said. “Also, Path is nearing your position. Maybe he can keep you and Elise alive.”

“Thanks, X. What would I do without you?”

“You would become completely lost, Reaper Cain. Or possibly dead from your numerous self-destructive behaviors and propensity for finding yourself in dire situations,” X-37 said.

24

I took a deep breath as we cleared the next hallway. Strange as it seemed, the lack of enemy contact brought my fatigue to the forefront. All I wanted was rest and the oblivion of sleep to forget what happened today.

“What does Spirit say about the situation?” I asked. “She was busy the last time we tried to talk to her.”

“You might assume she has less to do during this phase in the battle to control the ship, but her tasks have only become more complex,” X-37 said.

“Sorry I brought it up. You don’t have to defend her. Just give me an update,” I said.

“I’m here, Reaper Cain,” Spirit said. “CSL Locke sent a priority request for reinforcements. Help is on the way. Be aware, however, that my recommendation to the CLS was to evacuate the President. My ship may be lost. In the event that Alon or other hostile forces take the bridge, I am mandated to initiate the self-destruct sequence.”

“I knew Locke made it,” Elise said. “Have a little faith, Reaper.”

I gave her an incredulous look, the effect still obvious despite the fact that we were both wearing armor and helmets. “You’re the one who thought they killed him.”

“Whatever,” Elise said.

“What can we do to help, Spirit?” I asked.

“We have inadequate personnel to secure the presidential flight deck. If you could proceed to that location and assist ship security, that would improve the odds of successfully evacuating President Coronas,” Spirit said.

“What’s our timeline?” I asked.

“Spirit has rejoined her conversation with other Wallach-Xad ships and crews to help facilitate the larger battle,” X-37 said. “I communicate with her using a more efficient machine language and can take it from here, as you would say.”

Images popped up on my HUD. I checked with Elise to make sure she was getting the map as well. We finished reloading Wallach slugs into Union magazines. Some weapons were more compatible than others.

“We really need to switch over to Wallach weapons,” I grumbled.

“I thought we were waiting until they could improve their designs,” Elise said, stepping toward the next hallway bulkhead.

“I’m sure X-37 already has it on my list of things to do,” I said as I joined her and we hurried toward the presidential flight deck on one of the top levels of the ship.

“Confirmation available,” X-37 said. “Your to-do list is growing extremely long. My analysis suggests you should attempt to get some of those things done or consider removing them from the list.”

“What would happen if I had you just wipe my to-do list and start over?” I said, talking just to be talking. My eyes flicked right and left, and occasionally I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was following us. Staying alert was a habit I couldn’t break if I wanted to, but there was something therapeutic in just having a normal conversation between fights.

That was probably the reason Elise and I teased each other and did so much trash talking.

We arrived at the point where we had to decide between stairs and taking a lift. Power to the lifts and other transport devices was normally one of the last things to go. There were sections of the ship that had no lighting and only minimal life-support now. Our Archangel armor was still holding out, but eventually they would run out of power or take too much damage to continue.

Unlike a soldier, when our equipment was done it was really done. I couldn’t shout at it or encourage it to keep trying like I might Elise or my other friends. My favorite tools always seemed so reassuring when the fight started, but they frustrated me as I ran out of ammo or things broke.

“X, I assume there is direct access from the bridge to the presidential flight deck?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” X-37 explained. “There are a series of reinforced bulkheads that make the hallway between the two areas highly defensible. I’ve been updated on their progress and can tell you they have navigated those obstacles and are fighting for control of the presidential flight deck.”

“I guess that’s good news. One less thing to do,” I said. “Are we getting close?”

The distance on my HUD map didn’t seem like much but our navigation icon never seemed to move. The RWS Spirit of Wallach was so much larger than the Bright Lance. It was easy to forget ships could be this big.

The deck jumped under my feet, causing me to miss a step, fall, and roll. Elise staggered, keeping upright.

“What the hell was that?” I asked.

“I’m checking with Spirit now,” X-37 said. There was a pause. “Capital ships of all hostile forces are now taking direct action against each other. That was a broadside attack from the Alon, who have declared it would be better to completely destroy than lose it to their enemies.”

“If you have time, can you remind me what the Alon hoped to gain from betraying us to the Sansein?” I asked.

“It was a stalling tactic,” X-37 answered quickly. “The Sansein objectives seem to be two-fold—punish whoever created the abominations of their kind and capture all human leaders.”

* * *

We heard fighting long before we arrived at the presidential flight deck. Some of the explosions could be felt from two decks down. The hallways were still vacant, except for wounded getting evacuated from the conflict just above us.

“We’ll have to take stairs the rest of the way,” I said.

“The lift is faster,” Elise said. “But I agree. I don’t want to get stuck in one of these things.”

I led the way up a wide set of maintenance stairs, a place where heavy equipment or large groups of personnel could be moved if needed. Many of the vertical access ways were small, made for single people or even bots. But this was large enough to have a battle and I recognized it from similar Union designs.

Now wasn’t the time to think of the similarities between Union, Wallach, Xad, and Alon technology. We had a job to do.

“X, who’s in charge of the evacuation of the President?” I asked.

“Commander Kyle of the Presidential guards,” X-37 said. “I will patch you through.”

“Great.” Elise and I arrived at a final door and heard sporadic gunfire and Sansein energy weapons on the other side of the thick metal portal.

“Kyle for Reaper Cain,” a man’s voice announced through the comm channel X-37 established. “Your assistant tells me you’ve come to help.”

“Yep. What do you need, Commander?”

“I’m not going to mince words,” Kyle said, and I thought he sounded like a drill sergeant, like a fighter. “I need you to come in through access door 5 alpha 2, get their attention, and draw some of the fight in another direction.”

“I’ve always wanted to be bait,” I said.

If the leader of the presidential guards got the joke, he didn’t laugh.

And I didn’t care. At this point, fighting was fighting. Sure I had goals, but there was more work to do than there were soldiers and Reapers and teenage girls in powered armor to handle.

We made our way to a door marked 5A2. “Ready?”

Elise and Path gave me thumbs up. “X, ask Spirit to open the door.”

“Right away, Reaper Cain.”

The heavy door slid upward, but I didn’t see anything right away.

“This flight deck is much smaller than the main launch platform, but comparable to the Bright Lance or the Nightmare—and designed for only one ship. Unfortunately for President Coronas and her guards, the Sansein are guarding it with half their force while the others attack Commander Kyle’s people,” X-37 said.

Creeping to the edge of the short entryway, I saw what X was describing. Sansein charged a line of Presidential Guards, dragging one down while another sidestepped and opened fire with an oversized machine gun. The bullets smashed apart one of the aliens, causing its armor to spray clear liquid from dozens of holes. The rounds that missed exploded against walls without penetrating due to their design.

“Let’s get their attention,” I said. “But spread out first. Don’t move too far from this doorway. Our goal is to retreat, then ambush them at one of the intersections we scouted on our way here. Use the terrain to our advantage for once.”

I slipped through the opening and moved left, weapon ready, X-37 assisting my scan and analysis of the battlefield. What I saw from my new vantage point confused me. “I thought we killed all the Slayers.”

“Apparently, that was a false assumption. You might find it interesting that half of these Slayers seem to have been created from Alon test subjects,” X-37 said.

“Wait, what the fuck?” I asked, vaguely remembering something Locke had observed early in the battle.

“How, or better yet, why would the Sansein have Alon Slayers?” Elise asked from the right side of our doorway.

“There are several possibilities for this eventuality,” X-37 said. “Regardless of which explanation is correct, it seems that the Sansein are as duplicitous as humans. They claim outrage at our use of their DNA to create monsters but are not above weaponizing the technology.”

“Elise, Path—laser identify your targets. When we each have one, use single fire only. Bullets ain’t free,” I said. “Make every round count.”

“I’ve got mine picked out,” Elise said.

“As do I,” Path said.

“All right then, let’s do this. On one: three, two, one!” The target I selected had been facing away from me until the very last second. It started to turn as I pulled the trigger, causing my round to hit him in the side of his neck. The Sansein warrior pitched sideways. After that, I fired on any target of opportunity while moving back to our rally point in the doorway.

Elise and Path did the same with deadly effect, but there were more of the Sansein than I expected.

The command to fall back and draw the enemy after us was on my lips when I saw Briggs. Our eyes met. He froze, nearly getting shot by one of the Presidential Guards. He hadn’t been in the forefront of the action but had been part of the alien mob.

“You need to execute your plan immediately, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Hesitation will lead to your death as well as death for your friends.”

“I know, X.”

Briggs attempted a Union spec ops salute, but his arms were no longer shaped the same and were covered with writhing, hook tipped tentacles seeking targets.

I returned the salute that I’d never thought to use after my court-martial. The motion felt strange, and for an instant, it was like no time had passed. Neither of us had been turned into monsters. We weren’t killing machines doomed to serve evil masters. In that short, focused moment we were soldiers who understood that today was as good a day to die as any other.

I opened fire on the alien warriors, this time with anger focusing my deadly intent. Shoot, move, look for new targets. Repeat. Report in. “Cain for Commander Kyle, were drawing away as many as we can.”

Briggs leapt through the smoke, smashing aside one of his fellow Slayers.

“He’s trying to get to us,” Path observed.

“Yeah, but is he running from his alien overlords or coming to kill us?” Elise asked, breathless as she fired and reloaded. “Not a lot left, Cain. Gonna have to pick Wallach weapons soon.”

“Good idea.” I shot a Slayer right when it jumped on Briggs’s back.

The former spec ops commander twisted just in time to face another of the Alon Slayer mutants.

I realized what was different between these hybrids: they had barcode tattoos across their chests that looked like a machine had put them there and other tats that were obviously done by hand, and poorly rendered at that.

They were Alon prison inmates, probably offered to the Sansein as tribute or sacrifice. I probably would never know the order of events, but at some point, the Sansein had decided what we’d done to the hybrids was the only good use for a human.

A brief image of the entire Wallach-Xad fleet—men, women, and children—being made in to battle slaves nearly caused me to charge forward in a blind rage.

Several of the big Presidential Guards were down. Other Wallach fighters lay strewn across the blood smeared deck. More than a few of the enemy twisted in death throes as well.

I lost track of Briggs in the smoke and escalating explosions. The ship jolted twice and the deck tipped sideways—a dangerous sign the ship’s artificial gravity and inertia controls were malfunctioning.

“I see you, Reaper. We’d be dead if you hadn’t done that. Good work,” Kyle said. “Spirit is sending directions to your HUD. These should take you back around to the presidential shuttle. If you make it, we have seats for you and your friends. No matter what happens, the Spirit is in trouble. Better get back to your own ship as soon as you can.”

A dozen of the Sansein warriors pursued us. I didn’t see any of the Slayers and wondered if they had turned on Briggs.

“I miss the good ole days when all I had to do was keep Union assassins from killing you,” I said.

If Elise heard me, she didn’t have a snappy comeback. Or I’d pissed her off. Or her armor was damaged.

A group of the Sansein swarmed toward us, following us through several turns in the hallway. X-37 gave me an update about the main battle, explaining that Spirit was closing doors behind our pursuers so they couldn’t double back on the Presidential flight deck or attack the bridge which was only one level and a few closed bulkheads from here.

“X, we need to go through narrower passages so we can hold them longer,” I said.

“I’ve only been guiding you the way Spirit suggested,” X-37 said. “If you would like to ignore Commander Kyle’s offer and pick a new route, please indicate your desired destination.”

“We’re still going to take that ride, but we need to set up an ambush and kill some of these bastards,” I said.

“One moment,” X-37 said. “You will soon arrive at a small doorway. This will lead to a series of maintenance passages not much larger than a full-grown crew member. I believe you will be able to navigate it in your Archangel armor. The Sansein will only be able to attack you one at a time. It is a good place to try to hold them at bay.”

“Thanks, X. That’s exactly what I was looking for,” I said, then signaled path and Elise to look for the small door.

“I see it,” Elise said. “Moving toward it now. You better be right behind us.”

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m the last person to do something heroic,” I said, firing another single round at our pursuers, hoping to slow them down.

Their leader rushed forward, ignoring my less and less frequent attempts to force him back with gunfire. They learned what our weapons, primitive as they might seem, could do to them.

“Their leader is trying to shout something at you,” X-37 said. “But I have your noise filters up to maximum. The only thing you can hear is on the comms.”

“Just tell me what is trying to say.” I reloaded while walking backward, facing my alien enemies.

“I believe he is trying to negotiate,” X-37 said.

“Give me details, X.” I aimed but held my fire. If the Sansein freak wanted to drag things out a bit, that was fine with me. That would give Coronas and her people more time to evacuate the ship.

“Roughly translated, he’s demanding that you stop and die,” X-37 said.

“That’s not much of a negotiating platform,” I said. “Can you respond with something like go fuck yourself?”

“I will do my best, despite my complete ignorance of their reproductive systems,” X-37 said.

To my surprise, the leader of the group pursuing us stopped and stood a bit straighter. He waved back his comrades and moved forward.

“We’re through the hatch,” Elise said. “Get your ass in here. The hallway’s barely large enough for us to fit through, much less a bunch of alien psychopaths.”

I hesitated, tempted to move forward and face the leader of the Sansein squad one-on-one.

“He’s saying something about the honor of destroying you,” X-37 said. “And I should also point out that he appears to have gotten over his reluctance to use his ranged energy weapon.”

I started backpedaling, then turned to run for it while still keeping an eye on the crystal armored, tentacle sprouting alien who was raising a tube from his shoulder and pointing it in my direction.

“Run faster, Reaper Cain,” X-37 advised.

I pulled on the speed, then dove through the small doorway, nearly smashing aside Elise and Path who had taken up defensive positions to cover me.

The Sansein weapon fired, sending a bolt of energy down the hallway that suddenly didn’t seem so wide. All of my sensors whited out and I could feel my armor start to seize up.

“Godsdammit!” Elise shouted. “That was a lot of firepower. They could have wiped us out in the first battle.”

“And each other,” Path said.

I came to my feet as another round was fired, disintegrating the door Elise and Path were trying to slam shut. They flew back from the overpressure of the energy strike. As soon as they hit the ground, I dragged them to their feet and shoved them the direction I wanted them to go.

“Get the hell out of here! Try to make it to the presidential shuttle. If you can’t, find another flight deck and call the Jellybird,” I said.

“I should advise you, Reaper Cain, that Jelly is having difficulties navigating the battle. There are too many ships, large and small, firing all manner of weapons. It doesn’t help that the Nightmare and the Bright Lance frequently drop out of stealth mode to launch attacks in improbable areas. Several Sansein warships are doing the same thing,” X-37 said.

I continued to run, slamming doors behind me. My initial plan had been to stage my team at corners and intersections to ambush our pursuers. But now that they were using their energy weapons more aggressively, that seemed like a bad idea.

“Why weren’t they shooting at us like this before?” I asked.

“Spirit believes they were attempting not to damage the ship more than necessary,” X-37 said. “But that no longer seems to be a concern of anyone.”

“What else does Spirit believe?” I asked, manually cranking a door shut behind us to slow our pursuers.

“She’s requesting your assistance on the presidential flight deck. Commander Kyle is having a hard time clearing it of the rest of the enemy so that the president can be evacuated. CSL Locke is also en route with as many fighters as he has been able to rally,” X-37 said.

“I’m just glad he’s alive,” I said.

“Apparently, he’s as resilient as a Reaper,” X-37 said.

“Let’s keep moving.” I was preparing to attempt to shut another door when the one I had recently finished with exploded, leaving superheated slag dripping from the edges of a fresh hole.

Sansein rushed through, heedless of the damage they did to their own armor in the process.

“Elise, give me a hand,” I said.

She locked her gun to her kit, then helped me crank the door shut as fast as we could. Without waiting, we ran for the next bulkhead. This time, the door we’d slammed in the faces of our enemies exploded before we’d traveled halfway to the next.

Elise gabbed the wheel on the next door.

“Forget it! Just run.” I turned to face the single file line of aliens intent on killing us.

“This is a bad idea, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

Lights glowed brighter and brighter on the enemy weapon as it approached. I charged, shoving the barrel toward the floor before it was recharged—or that was what I hoped I was doing. The best I could hope for at this point, was having a whole blown through the deck beneath my feet—which would cause an entirely new fucking set of problems.

In a knife fight, and in some gunfights, closing the distance could incapacitate or at least inconvenience an enemy if only briefly. Maybe the gamble would pay off this time or maybe this was it for me. There wasn’t time to think about it either way.

“Reaper!” It’s voice sounded strange the way X-37 translated it. “The change for you is to die. Accept the change. Die.”

“Shut the hell up,” I said, snapping out my arm blade and lunging at his throat. This had worked well against Slayers, but my current enemy merely dodged back, easily evading my attack.

The power up of his weapon winked out as he cast it aside and shot a flurry of tentacles toward my face. Each little cable was tipped with a razor-sharp diamond blade.

This time, I jumped back. One of the other aliens picked up the dropped weapon, but the first one rushed forward screaming something that X-37 either couldn’t or wouldn’t translate.

“We are at the presidential flight deck,” Elise said, but the rest of her words were garbled.

I front-kicked my opponent in his chest, driving him back into the others. He yelled something and his alien buddies shoved him forward like we were playing shove-ball back in the neighborhood where I’d grown up.

Stabbing again and again, I also drew my pistol and fired at close range. There wasn’t room to bring up the HDK Dominator. The pistol rounds ricocheted of the armor that looked like white crystal but was something else.

“Help is on the way!” Elise said, her words sounding more than a bit crazy.

“Negative, kid! Stay with President Coronas,” I shouted.

But she wasn’t who came to help. Nor was it Path.

“It’s you and me, Reaper,” Briggs croaked, pushing me forward with one arm and shooting his dark tentacles over my shoulder at the Sansein assaulting us.

There wasn’t time to worry about how or why he’d arrived. My best guess was that he’d still been on the presidential flight deck when Elise and Path opened the door. As for why, that was another question I couldn’t answer.

Briggs obviously had a death wish but I was now certain he was completely on my side if not the side of humanity in general. Apparently, life as an alien battle slave didn’t appeal to him.

“We can’t win this,” I said. “Even if my armor holds, there are too many of them and they’re pushing us back.”

Briggs only grunted and cursed.

All of the Sansein were screaming at me now, apparently more enraged by the sight of Briggs than they ever would be by a Reaper.

“We’ll give them time to evacuate the president,” was the only intelligible thing Briggs said.

I pushed against our enemies with my left hand and fumbled around in my kit for a grenade with my right, finding nothing. If I’d been hampered from using my HDK before, now it was completely impossible to access with Briggs right behind me, shoving my armor forward with all of his weight and strength.

Each time we moved to step forward, we were driven two steps back. We were buying time, but I doubted it would be enough. Even if they could get President Coronas off the ship, the entire system was swarming with enemies that all wanted us dead or enslaved.

“X!”

There was a pause before my limited artificial intelligence asked me what I wanted. He didn’t seem as upset about the situation as I was. “Why are you yelling at me, Reaper Cain? I have no new advice to offer.”

“Ask Spirit what she’s planning to do with the president if they get her off the ship,” I said.

“I already know the answer to this question. President Coronas is merely offering herself as a diversion so that the engine rooms can make repairs and prepare for a slip tunnel transit if we are lucky enough to get that far,” X-37 said. “All ships in the fleet are directed to leave the system at their first opportunity and rally at one of the many predetermined locations we’ve mapped over the last several weeks.”

“She’s scattering the fleet?”

“There is no other option. All of her top advisors, including Admiral Hutton and Captain Younger have concurred this is the best plan,” X-37 said.

“Elise, talk to me,” I grunted, flinching as several of the Sansein tentacles wove together to make a stronger limb and punched me in the face of my helmet.

“Can’t talk, Reaper.” Elise spat the words, clearly in the middle of a strenuous task. “The shuttle has taken too much damage from the Sansein energy weapons. Moving the president to a safe room now.”

“Can you hear me, Briggs?” I asked, feeling my feet slide across the deck as four or five of the Sansein pushed us backward. My boots were part of my armor and had the best traction possible, but we were still being driven backward. My armor had deflected the claws and diamond tipped tentacle strikes so far, but the lead Sansein warrior was also trying to twist my head off, or my helmet, or whatever. It fucking hurt and scared the shit out of me.

In my opinion, if you have to get your head ripped off, it should be quick and painless. I could probably get my wish if I quit resisting, but screw that. These assholes were going to have to work for it.

“I see you, Reaper,” Elise said, her voice loud in my helmet speaker. “You’re being pushed onto the Presidential flight deck.”

“Stay with the President. Get her the hell out of here,” I said through clenched teeth. Once the Sansein were able to spread out, Briggs and I were in trouble.

“Negative, Reaper,” President Coronas said. “Commander Kyle and everyone we have are coming to help.”

“Copy that!” Locke shouted. “My team is coming from the stairwell near your location, Cain.”

“We’re moving to you,” Commander Kyle said. “Be advised, there are other aliens and hybrids at large. Watch your six.”

I looked over my shoulder just as Briggs leapt away from me to address a new threat. Our distraction had been useful while it lasted, but now we’d circled back around and were in the middle of the melee. Even the President was shooting at aliens, hybrids, and an Alon now.

Pushing back from the creature I’d been resisting for several seconds, I snatched up a Wallach gun from the floor and fired at close range.

The Sansein charged his weapon.

I fired at the glowing tube, hoping to disable it. There was no explosion to indicate I’d struck my target, but it also didn’t vaporize me.

Holding the trigger down, I emptied it into the shrieking monster’s mouth then kicked away its collapsing body. It was almost hard to believe these things could die, but they did with the right encouragement.

Briggs slipped past me, slashing his hybrid claws across the next Sansein warrior with his incredible strength. That was one thing I’d noticed; the Slayers were stronger than either humans or Sansein.

They separated, assessing one another as the others spread out and called to those aliens already assaulting the Presidential Guards and Locke’s squads.

“Get the President out of here,” Briggs spat at me. “Let me do this.”

“I’ll cover your retreat once I find another weapon,” I said, tossing aside the blood slick rifle I’d found on the floor.

Briggs attacked. The Sansein defended, blocking his strikes and launching counterattacks.

I turned and sprinted to a makeshift strong point littered with Wallach soldiers. It only took seconds to find a new weapon and several magazines, but it felt like a lifetime. I turned, shouted for Briggs to fall back, and shot any of the aliens that dared move toward him. My efforts were complicated by a different group firing energy weapons at my position.

Each time I stopped to fire, I only had a few seconds before I had to move or risk getting vaporized. Lights flashed and smoke filled the presidential flight deck as Elise and the others rushed Coronas away from the action. Pieces of the ceiling fell all around me. There were holes in walls and giant gouges in the floor. I was hearing more and more energy weapons and fewer firearms.

“Come on, Briggs! I said fall the fuck back!”

“I’m coming Reaper,” Briggs yelled, then fled from the overwhelming number of alien attackers.

That was when Elise and Path saved us. I should have expected the kid would eventually use the Archangel armor to pick up a big gun, but witnessing the sword saint going to work with the chain gun rendered me speechless.

I knew he could shoot, but now he was exporting violence on a whole new level. The steady muzzle flashes from the big guns reached forward like lances of fire. Every fifth round was infused with phosphorescent chemicals that burned bright despite the supersonic speeds. In this environment, the tracer rounds resembled lasers.

“Come on, Reaper!” Elise shouted.

My closest attacker lost its head. Another was punch through his torso, causing a semi fluid gel to spurt from the armor. I didn’t have a lot of time to examine the scene, but this time I noticed there was blood mixed in with the slimy discharge.

I needed to ask X-37 about that later, but I assumed the clear goo was some property of the armor. Maybe the fluid allowed them to withstand the high acceleration and hard turns of their ships.

Ducking low, I ran between Elise and Path. I wasn’t sure about Briggs until I saw him jump through the doorway. Path came next, lowering the chain gun once it was no longer safe to fire from the hallway while Elise was blocking the opening. She never let her finger off the trigger, and I doubted the weapon would be usable when she was done with it.

“Where the hell did you find two chain guns?” I asked as the door slammed shut behind us. Seconds later, I heard the Sansein attempting to pry it open. It wouldn’t be long before they slagged it. To my surprise, the sounds ceased almost as soon as they began.

“There are a lot of discarded weapons lying around right now,” Elise said. “Maybe we should argue about it later when we are closer to safety.”

“Sure, kid. You’re right,” I said, only causing her to swear a little. “Let’s find Coronas, or whoever the hell is in charge right now, and make a new plan.”

“Why aren’t the alien jerks tearing that door down, X?” Elise asked.

“Unknown, but there seems to be some sort of recall. The Sansein main fleet is moving toward the Alon home world. The Alon home defense armada is nearly as broken and scattered as the Wallach-Xad fleet is right now,” X-37 said.

25

We made our way through hallways crammed with wounded and more than a few dead. The crew of the ship was as professional and skilled as any I had ever seen in my long career. The post battle scene was nothing but misery and chaos. Our Archangel armor caused each of us to limp from damage and low power. Briggs skulked between us, avoiding the looks of people who probably wondered how and why we’d taken a Slayer prisoner.

Explaining the actual situation with the former spec ops commander was too much work right now.

More wounded civilians arrived in the hallway junction, forcing medics to adjust their priorities. Each new injury was a crisis. Some of the wounded were children.

“There is no way we’re done yet. This is going to get worse before it gets better,” I said.

“I thought this was a restricted area,” Elise said, sounding pissed off. “They’re moving their leader through this mess?”

I understood her frustration but had seen it before. “They don’t have any place else to put the wounded. Just be thankful we’re not lying on the deck right now.”

“I know, Reaper. I’m just pissed off at everything right now,” she said.

“X, do you have any updates from Spirit?”

“All ships have been attempting to disengage from the conflict since it started,” X-37 said. “There was a general order given to all captains to escape and regroup when possible. My analysis suggests this is a lull in the action rather than the end of hostilities.”

My heart fell. The existence of this fleet had been a miracle of cooperation from the beginning. I doubted it would ever be united for a common purpose again. Somehow, this seemed like the biggest failure of my life despite the fact I’d never been in charge of more than my own ship. Not really.

Elise helped move a wounded soldier, comforting him with jokes and promises he’d be in the infirmary soon. Then she took his magazines and other combat gear he couldn’t use.

The soldier was raw from the emotion of recent events. Pain probably wasn’t exactly helping him either. “You give those sons-of-bitches hell, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Elise said with mock indignation.

I did my own scavenging as X-37 updated me on hundreds of developments throughout the fleet. The only thing that made me feel any better about how we had been betrayed was that the Alon home world was now being invaded by the Sansein.

I passed this nugget of information on to Elise and Path.

“Maybe that will give us a chance to escape the system,” Elise said.

“The combined fleet is already scattered, but there’s always hope we can put it back together,” I said, not believing my own words.

Elise didn’t argue or otherwise call attention to my bullshit.

“Locke for Cain, what’s your location,” CSL Locke asked via radio comms.

“I’m halfway between the presidential flight deck and the bridge. Lots of wounded here,” I said, not liking the injured, nearly panicked tone of his voice. “What do you need?”

“We’ve been ambushed,” Locke said. “Alon and Sansein ships have withdrawn. I got sloppy, Cain.”

“Talk to me, Locke. What is your situation?”

“Ambushed. Everyone wounded. I’m… never mind. They have the bridge.”

“What the fuck?” Elise blurted.

“Who has the bridge, Locke? You’re not making any sense.”

“The Alon champion and the rest of them that stayed behind,” Locke said. “We thought it was a distraction to cover their withdraw.”

“We’re on our way,” I said. “I’m bringing help.”

“Hurry, Cain,” Locke replied. “There isn’t much time.”

“What about him?” Elise said, jerking a thumb at Briggs.

“Can’t leave him here,” I said, then focused on the Slayer. “How are you doing, Briggs?”

“If you’re asking about my desire to eat faces and randomly murder people, I’m about average,” Briggs croaked.

“Not reassuring,” Elise said.

Briggs made a choking, grunting sound I thought was a laugh. “Stay between us. Try not to scare anyone until we figure out what to do with you.”

“Roger that, Reaper,” Briggs said.

Running through hallways and stairwells to the bridge, I tried not to think about how bad Locke had sounded. He was the toughest person I’d ever met and now he was broken, probably dying.

* * *

We exploded onto the bridge, weapons drawn, ready to fight. The scene was grim. Several of the bridge crew lay on the floor, unmoving. Workstations were smeared with blood and sparks jumped from screens that had been shot during a vicious close quarters battle.

Victon stood in the center of the room while his soldiers held several people, including President Coronas and CSL Locke, hostage. I didn’t see Admiral Hutton or General Karn and hoped they weren’t dead.

“This entire mission went poorly,” Victon said. “But you understand we still have to fight.”

“You’re one of those guys,” I said. “All these people dying and all these ships destroyed, and it’s all about your ego.”

“I don’t like your tone, Reaper.” He paused for a second. “What exactly does Reaper mean?”

“It means I’m about to kill you and all of your friends,” I said, snapping out my blade.

“A true warrior would show his face,” Victon said.

I removed my helmet and chucked it to one side. My armor was barely functioning anyway, and I considered slipping out of it as well but thought the entire process would be less than dignified. And, even if it lacked its full functionality and internal LAI, it would still turn a bullet or a blade—I hoped.

“This is a bad idea.” Elise edged toward a pair of Alon soldiers.

Path picked the other two Alon shock troopers.

“If you have honor, you will fight with a blade, Victon said. “I know the battle is lost for me and my men. I’m not as foolish as you think. But when you’ve been left behind on an enemy ship, the only thing that remains is honor.”

“I get it,” I said, raising my Reaper blade. “Why don’t we take this to another room and let the bridge crew go. There’s no reason everyone has to suffer for your ego.”

This, apparently, wasn’t what he had wanted to hear because he charged me with his Alon weapon. The edge looked sharp and the double hilts provided two ways for him to attack with it.

Elise rushed her opponents, taking everyone by surprise—especially the Alon soldier standing with his sword ready, but not as ready as he’d thought. Her blade lunged into his chest before he could parry, block, or retreat. The man’s partner forced her to retreat, deflecting an aggressive series of attacks.

“They don’t have ammunition,” X-37 stated.

“Yeah, well neither do we,” I said, moving into position. “Probably better that way.”

The bridge crew ducked behind cover. Locke, despite his injuries, grabbed President Coronas and dragged her toward her safe room on the other side of the bridge.

Briggs jumped over Elise, slamming into the man who was attacking her. Shrieks of pain and horror filled the room. I ignored all of it as I faced Victon and his wicked Alon blade.

“We should have just settled the entire engagement with the duel,” he said, circling me warily.

“Was that an option?” I asked, seeking the man’s weakness.

“Long ago, the Alon settled wars with personal combat. Fewer lives were lost,” Victon said, then lunged with speed and power that caught me off guard. Not even Path moved like that.

“Shit!” I shouted as I stumbled backward.

The man could have laughed or continued his lecture, but he was all business now.

We were both in the business of killing people. Only one of us was walking away from this fight and I had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be me.

Victon lunged, his blade driving forward to strike low, then angling upward in mid thrust. I detected the deception at the last possible second—sidestepping and striking his blade with mine.

I slammed my shin into the side of his leg, nearly buckling his knee despite his armor. On instinct, I followed up a fraction of a second later with a right hook that slammed into his helmet, staggering him sideways.

The helmet took the brunt of the strike, but the force transfer remained.

He went with it, twisting away from me even as he executed a spinning back fist at my face.

“You should have kept your helmet,” X-37 said almost conversationally. “He kept his.”

I was tired, wounded, and making dumb decisions that would probably get me killed this time.

“Also, he is controlling the pace of the duel—probably trying to wear you out before he goes in for the kill,” X-37 said.

I adjusted my pace and conserved my strength, which felt weird. Normally I strove to end fights as quickly as possible, which meant going on the offensive like I was a hurricane of death.

That usually worked. This time I was beaten down from days of stress and hours of combat.

Victon’s blade lashed out three times in a row, drawing blood. Small slashes decorated my face.

He slammed an elbow into my torso, knocking me down. I rolled away as he stomped at my head.

Elise shouted something but was fighting someone else. Path wasn’t able to help either— not that I was looking for help. The last Reaper could take care of himself.

“Think, Reaper,” X-37 urged. “Or better yet, trust your instincts.”

Right before I struggled to my feet, I grabbed Victon’s boot and pulled hard. This gave me leverage to stand quickly and also dumped him onto his back. A heartbeat later, I attempted a stomp on his head and missed as he rolled away.

Victon pressed his hands, still holding his blade, against the floor near his head and thrust his feet upward, launching himself back to his feet.

The moment he was up, I aimed a front thrust kick at his stomach and connected, sending him backward.

“Ugh!” The words he had been about to say were lost.

Looking around for Elise, I saw her, Path, and Briggs entangled with other enemies. Locke and Coronas were gone. Some of the bridge crew had started working at their stations to bring the ship under control despite the fights all around them.

The ship lurched to one side. A new round of warning klaxons sounded. Lights flickered on and off.

All of that was in the background. Rage fueled my attack, but this time it was focused by what I needed to do, by all the people that were counting on me, and by the deep knowledge that to fail now meant the death of everyone I cared about.

Both the Alon and the Sansein had withdrawn, but only for a time. My enemies preyed on weakness and the best way to teach them to fear us was by defeating the best among them. Victon was their champion. He was trying to kill me and my friends.

That meant his time was up.

Drawing my pistol as I moved, I fired as I closed the distance just to give him something to think about. When he scrambled sideways, I was already anticipating his move. I shoved my blade toward his face but altered the weapon’s course to strike his chest.

He attempted to bring his own push-blade up but was a beat too slow. I hurried my weapon through his chest armor and kept pushing forward until I had slammed him against the far wall.

“Reaper,” he gurgled as I twisted the blade.

I screamed wordless furry into his face, not giving a damn about anything he had to say. The Alon betrayed us. We could never trust them again.

“Listen to me, Reaper,” he related, his eyes going in and out of focus as he gripped my left arm with his free hand. “There is a weapon on Yansden. Only our greatest champion can use it to save the Alon from the Sansein.”

“Who the hell is your greatest champion,” I demanded, something about his words setting me off balance.

“I am, Reaper. I was the greatest. I was our only hope.” He breathed his last words just before the light went out of his eyes.

Dropping his body to the deck, I checked on my friends. Elise, Path, and most of the bridge crew were injured. Briggs squatted in a corner facing us, a crazy look in his eyes I didn’t like.

“Keep that thing away from us,” one of the bridge officers begged, pointing at Briggs—who was smeared with the blood of his recently decapitated Alon enemy.

“We’ve got him under control,” I said, motioning for Elise and Path to come with me. She held her arm like it might be broken or have other internal damage. Path applied a pressure bandage to his own chest where he’d either been stabbed or shot.

“Come on, Briggs,” I said.

He grunted words that weren’t human, sounds that made me think he was one bad decision from a mindless killing spree.

“Cain for Locke,” I said. “We’re leaving the bridge. It’s secure. I have to take care of something.”

“Understood, Cain,” Locke said. “Get yourself to the medical bay. Spirit says all of you are wounded.”

“Copy that,” I agreed.

“What are you doing with the Slayer?” Locke asked.

I ignored the question for now.

“What the hell was Victon talking about,” Elise said. “I heard what he said.”

I shrugged, patting my armor for a cigar that wasn’t there. “He said there is a weapon on a planet called Yansden, or maybe that is a city. Said it could defeat the Sansein.”

“I heard that, but he also said only their greatest champion could use it,” Elise said, looking back down the hall out of habit. She’d been hanging around me for too long. I wished she didn’t have to be as paranoid as me—always checking our back trail and looking for the next ambush. “What I didn’t catch was who that champion is now and if he or she will help us.”

“I think the position is vacant,” I said.

Briggs hissed at a group of crewmen and crewwomen we passed.

Grabbing him roughly by the back of his head, I shoved him forward. It was a neat trick because he was bigger and stronger than I was. If he really wanted to fight me right now there would be a problem.

“Keep moving, Briggs. We need to get you back on the Jellybird before someone decides you’re too dangerous to live,” I said.

“I am too dangerous to live,” he answered.

Elise laughed, indicating the four of us. “Aren’t we all.”

26

“It’s good to have you back, Captain,” Jelly said.

I slouched in my chair, alone on the bridge for the first time in hours. Like the rest of the exodus fleet, we were rushing toward the nearest slip tunnel to escape the Sansein patrols. The only reason we hadn’t been caught was that the aliens were now focusing on invading the Alon home world.

“Captain, there is a message from Envoy,” Jelly said.

“Is he going to kill us before we reach the tunnel?” I asked, barely caring. My entire body ached and I wanted to sleep for years.

“No, Captain,” Jelly said. “He wonders why we still have the abomination on our ship?”

“Maybe Envoy should speak for himself,” I said. “Put him on the holo.”

“He refuses, Captain,” Jelly said. “How shall I answer him?”

I thought about it. No one on the ship was awake to help me formulate an answer. “He’s one of us. I trust him.”

Silence.

“Did you tell him what I said?” I finally asked.

“I relayed the message,” Jelly said. “His response was curious.”

“You’re killing me, Jelly. What did Envoy say?” I asked.

“He said that might be enough and that he needed time to consider everything he’d witnessed,” Jelly said.

“Fine. Whatever.”

“There is also a message from the RWS Spirit of Wallach.”

“What’s the message?” I asked.

“Admiral Hutton is recovering. President Coronas and other high-level staff have been dispersed throughout the fleet to prevent capture by another Sansein attack. Spirit has sent encrypted coordinates to several systems that will be rally points. If we make our way to one and wait two weeks, we are instructed to move to the next on the list,” Jelly said.

“Good enough,” I said. “Some of these are new. Where did they get these maps?”

“Counterintelligence from the Alon. We captured some of their ships, they captured some of ours,” Jelly explained.

I read through the list of systems capable of supporting human life, knowing that X-37 was way ahead of me when I pointed at the holo display. “What about this planet, right there?”

“Yansden?” Jelly asked. “Alon records show the system was once the center of their shipbuilding industry.”

“What happened to the place?”

“The records are unclear. It was quarantined apparently,” Jelly said. “The records end abruptly.”

“Is the information classified?” I was curious now, especially after what Victon claimed about the place.

“No,” Jelly said.

X-37 interrupted. “I’m doing a deep dive on the available information. Jelly has the gist of it. The planet was quarantined hundreds of years ago. Some people stayed but most accepted a one-time-only offer to be evacuated. Do you think it would be a good place for the Wallach-Xad fleet to regroup and rebuild? Perhaps the shipyards are still functional or can be refurbished.”

“No, X. I’m thinking of what Victon told us right before he died,” I said skimming through information on the display. X-37 could do it faster, but there were times I needed the mental exercise.

X-37 relayed Victon’s last words to Jelly.

“Apologies, Captain. It seems unlikely that an Alon secret weapon could be kept in a place the Alon don’t seem to care about.”

“I agree, but we don’t have a lot of options. Tell Spirit we will reconnoiter the Yansden system and report back to one of the other systems on the rally-point list,” I said.

“I will begin the encryption process. It will take time to send the message and longer to receive a reply,” Jelly said.

“We’ll be gone before they answer. Just send our message,” I said.

“There is one non-encrypted message from Locke asking what you are going to do with the Slayer,” Jelly said.

“Can I speak to Locke directly?”

“Of course, Captain, but the time delay is several hours,” Jelly said.

“Tell him I’m going to do what is right,” I said. “And let’s get the hell out of this place.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“Leaving is the best decision you’ve made in days, Reaper Cain.”

I lit a cigar, wanting sleep but knowing it would never come. I’d failed too many people to close my eyes and face their ghosts. Victon had been a real asshole, but one of the best fighters I’d faced in a long time—maybe even better than Path and his master from Roxo III.

“What are you thinking?” X-37 asked.

“Just wondering how I am still alive, X.”

“I try not to analyze that in too much detail as it slows down my processing speed significantly. Most of what you do makes no sense. My early calculations, from before you were sentenced to death row, suggested I should measure your expected survival time in hours, maybe days,” X-37 said. “You make illogical, dangerous, emotion-based decisions that should get you killed.”

“Yet here we are, X. And all we have to do is escape the wrath of an ancient human empire and an alien race that wants to kill or enslave everyone I know,” I said.

“Is that all?” X asked.

“Hey, are you attempting sarcasm, X?”

“No, Reaper Cain. That was a question. Should I explain it to you?”

“Now you’re definitely pulling my power drive.”

“Perhaps just a little.” My limited artificial intelligence tried several more jokes that grew progressively lamer before we reached the next slip tunnel.

EPILOGUE

The Jellybird arrived in the Yansden system while Elise was at the helm. Her call woke me from the first real sleep I’d had in days. The events on the Spirit of Wallach wouldn’t stop running through my mind. Each day in the slip tunnel was spent making repairs, healing, and recovering from the ordeal that had almost killed us. It was also spent talking to Briggs, who had good days and bad days.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Elise called cheerfully.

“X, can you filter her good mood to something a little—”

“Darker?” X-37 asked.

“Neutral,” I said. “Let me wake up. Maybe have some coffee or something first.”

“We’re out of coffee, Reaper,” Elise said. “I’ve been scouting around the slip tunnel opening. This system is a lot more populated than we were led to believe. Satellites around every planet and what looks like resource miners in the primary asteroid belt.”

“We arrived at Yansden?” I got up and started moving toward the shower.

“No, we’re back at Gronic,” Elise said.

“I would pay you a million credits if that were the case,” I said, clapping my hands to activate the water recyclers. “I need a real cigar.”

“Technically,” X-37 said, “there are no metabolic requirements—”

“Yeah, thanks, X. I get it. I don’t need to smoke cigars,” I said, stepping into the water before it warmed up. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Correct, Reaper Cain. I don’t understand,” X-37 said.

“Elise has called the rest of the crew and asked me to let you know,” X-37 said. “I don’t understand why she just wouldn’t continue the conversation.”

“Because I’m in the shower, X.”

“I am capable of patching you into the comms regardless of your degree of wetness,” X-37.

“Of course you are, X. Just let this one go. Trust me,” I said.

“Letting it go now, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Shall I provide Elise an estimated time of arrival on the bridge?”

“Sure.”

“You have fifteen minutes to arrive at your meeting on the bridge,” X-37 said.

“That’s kind of brutal, X. Next time give me a moment to freshen up,” I said. “And don’t worry about what that actually means.”

“I wouldn’t think of it, Reaper Cain.”

* * *

I felt pretty good when I joined my crew on the bridge. Better than I had for a while, with or without sleep. “All right, I’m here. What’d I miss.”

Instead of an answer, Elise enlarged the long range sensor view—computer imagery so grainy I wasn’t sure what I was looking at.

“We are still twenty light minutes from the primary habitable planet in the Yansden system,” Jelly said. “The images you are seeing will improve when we get closer. One thing is certain: the quarantine doesn’t seem to have harmed the population of Yansden.”

I stared at cities on every continent, lights burning bright. There were dozens of functioning shipyards around three planets nearest the green zone and an extraplanetary shipping industry.

“This isn’t what I expected,” I said.

“The quarantine information suggested there wouldn’t be much here,” X-37 agreed.

“What are your orders, Captain?” Jelly asked.

“Have we heard from the rest of our fleet?”

“No ships from the combined fleet, or the Alon for that matter, have been to this system for a number of centuries,” X-37 said. “X-37 and I have decoded most of their language and made several deductions. They call themselves the Kalon and have no idea slip tunnels exist.”

“Doesn’t seem like a place to find a secret weapon against the Sansein,” I said.

“That would also be my conclusion, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“What are your orders, Captain?” Jelly asked.

Elise and the rest of the crew watched me.

“Let’s head for the planet and check it out,” I said. “Without being seen, of course.”

“There is one final item of interest, Reaper Cain.”

I waited for my limited artificial intelligence to continue. Because I was patient like that.

“There are a pair of stowaways in cargo bay three,” X-37 said.

“We never use cargo bay three for anything more than bulk storage.” My mind struggled to think of the last time we could have picked up a stowaway. Neither X-37 nor Jelly were sounding the alarm, so I assumed they were from Wallach or Xad.

“Which makes it a prime location for individuals who want to hide until after the ship disembarks,” X-37 said.

“Can you identify them? Are they going to be a pain in my ass or useful?”

“That depends on you, Reaper Cain. One is Bug, the other is your sister.”

* * *

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CAIN, X-37, and ELISE return in DESCENT OF THE REAPER, available now on Amazon.

LIST OF 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)

- Feg—Fredrick Eugene Grady

- 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

- 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)

- YT—Galdiz 49 rifle, sniper model. (YT is a randomly generated model number)

SHIP AND CHARACTER NAMES

SHIPS

BRIGHT LANCE OF XAD

- Flag ship of the Xad fleet

- Captured from the Union in Flight of the Reaper, TLR 5

- Captain: Cynthia Thomas Younger

- Executive Officer: Commander Bernard Gile

HUNTER OF XAD

- Captain Omon

STRIKER OF XAD

- Captain Yolanda Dempsy

(RWS = Republic Of Wallach Ship)

RWS BATTLE AXE

- With Jellybird scouting new system after Macabre

- Captain Hunger

RWS JUMPING FOX

- Captain: Jaime Peterson

RWS SPIRIT OF WALLACH

- Flag ship 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

* * *

PEOPLE

A note to the reader from Scott Moon: Jeff and I saw a need for a cast of people and places in this series. I began scouring my notes for all seven books so far; my part of the story development is very much stereotypical of most writers and artists—slightly disorganized (chaos!). So please remember this is a living document. Feel free to reach out to us if one of your favorite cast members is missing. A good place to interact is JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers on FB.

Thanks,

Scott

Asis - soldier First Class of Xad

Andrews, Benjamin - Spec ops pilot

Bachman - Sergeant Dreadmax security forces for the Bold Freedom

Bug - a kid from Dreadmax

Beaufort - repairman on the Bright Lance of Xad and member of EVA work crews

Ben, Amon - Soldier, First Class. Xad citizen. Currently serving on the Bright Lance of Xad.

Briggs (Commander, Union Spec Ops)

Cain, Olivia Anna - Cain’s mother

Cain, Halek - The Last Reaper

Cain, Hannah - Cain’s sister

Callus, Marley (Union Spec Ops)

CIM - Computerized Inmate Monitor that attempted to control Halek Cain while he was on death row.

Coranth - Sansein alien

Crank (Sergeant, Union Spec Ops)

Day, Orson - Formerly a Corporal in the Union, now serving on the Bright Lance of Xad.

Degron, Tross - Delegate from the Alon Empire

Dempsy, Yolanda - Captain of the Striker of Xad

Drysdale, Quincy - Captain of the RWS Spirit of Wallach

Envoy - Sansein alien

Esquire, James - James Esquire III, Warden of the Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison

Feist, Theodore - Lieutenant, maintenance and supply officer, fourth watch, section 2 of the Bright Lance of Xad

Gile, Bernard - Commander / XO of the Bright Lance of Xad. Executive Officer for Captain Younger. Citizen of Xad.

Grady, Frederick Eugene (Feg) - Union commando. Friend of Halek Cain in The Last Reaper

Hanson, Kyle - First Lieutenant Kyle Hanson from The Last Reaper. Serves on the Bold Freedom.

Hastings, Elise – runaway, adventurer, was subject to Union experiments

Hastings, Paul - Doctor Paul Hastings, father of Elise. In the service of the Union.

Hunger, Dan - Captain of the RWS Battle Axe

Hutton, Cliff - Admiral of the Wallach Fleet

Jordan - Sergeant loyal to Marley Callus in The Last Reaper

Junkboss, Michael - Ensign on the Bright Lance of Xad. Controller for Elise during the repair mission of the RWS Jumping Fox.

Kyle - Commander Kyle of the Wallach Presidential Guards

Largo - soldier First Class of Xad

Michaels, Britton - Amateur assassin on Greendale

Moore, Major Hubert Moore - ship doctor of the Bright Lance of Xad (formerly the UFS Dark Lance.)

Novasdaughter, Amii - Formerly a Union micro-fighter pilot. One of two girls Cain saved before he lost his arm and became a Reaper.

Oberon, Paul - Lieutenant serving on the Bright Lance of Xad. Special investigator

Omon, Keeper - Captain of the Hunter of Xad

Peterson, Jamie - Captain of the RWS Jumping Fox

Rejon, Brion - Leader of Xad

Slab - leader of the Red Skull Gangsters on Dreadmax

Slipdriver, Max - fictional character

Sun, Suzan - Warrant Officer on the Bright Lance of Xad. Flight deck control supervisor. Formerly of the Union. Has applied for Xad citizenship and been vetted as trustworthy.

Thane, Byron - former rival of Halek Cain

Thane, Byron II - Byron Thane II, son of Byron Thane

Tross Degron - Alon delegate

Uluru, Sergeant - security chief of the Bright Lance of Xad brig.

Victon - Champion of the Alon

Walker, Kyle - Ensign on the Bridge of the Bright Lance of Xad.

Younger, Cynthia Thomas - Captain of the Bright Lance of Xad. Citizen of Xad.

Xeres, Samantha - Doctor: Chief Medical Officer on the Bright Lance of Xad. Formerly a Union citizen, now applying for citizenship with Xad.

X-37 - the limited artificial intelligence (LAI) of Halek Cain, the last Reaper.

* * *

GLOSSARY

Alon strike group - three corvette class ships, one battle cruiser, and one support ship

Sansein - Aliens first named in The Last Reaper 7, Will of the Reaper

Slayer - Human/Alien hybrid first seen in The Last Reaper

* * *

PLACES

Gronic - planet in the Deadlands

New Salon - home world of the Alon

Wallach - home world left behind by the people of Wallach after several natural disasters

Xad - home world left behind by the people of Xad after hundreds of years of space battles, a comet, and other issues made it unsuitable for human habitation.

Yansden – planet deep within Alon space

* * *

POLITICS

Republic of Wallach

- President Amanda Coronas

- General Karn

- Admiral Cliff Hutton

- CSL Locke

Xad

- Brion Rejon, leader of Xad

- Captain Cynthia Thomas Younger, highest ranking officer in the Xad Fleet.

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Scott Moon

* * *

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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.

* * *

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 www.jnchaney.com.

He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

* * *

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 http://www.scottmoonwriter.com