Copyrighted Material

Light of the Reaper Copyright © 2022 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2022 by JN Chaney

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

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

www.jnchaney.com

http://www.scottmoonwriter.com

1st Edition

CONTENTS

Don’t Miss Out

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Important Terms and Characters

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1

Too much was happening too quickly. I cut power to my welding torch, then raised the visor of my crude safety helmet. My Sethorn hard skin offered a lot of protection, but I hadn’t learned to adjust the opacity. Old school protective gear never went out of style.

My repairs were ugly but functional. Everyone was a mechanic today, just as Tom had promised. The Jellybird was barely holding together. We needed her ready to haul ass and fight if caught, but here we were, limping through the void like we’d just had our asses kicked.

Which we kind of did.

Scheid’s forces were still out there, and the Darkness swarm pursued us relentlessly. Elise’s Maglan fleet fought for survival. Jelly’s last report was that they were holding together, resisting the need to flee in all directions.

So many loose ends.

Tank, my oversized clone I’d almost come to trust, had either betrayed me to Ion Dawn and the Oroth Council, or was their prisoner—which probably meant endless torture for my big… what… brother?

The guy deserved some empathy. How long would I last without a decent cigar? He had to be in hell. Or living it up if he was a backstabbing pile of void scum.

Sethorn was getting ravaged by civil war and another arm of the Darkness swarm. Naaman and Decima had barely spoken to me since I chose to help Elise instead of their people.

James Henshaw was missing in action again—classic behavior for the self-absorbed genius. If my double Reaper arms had problems, who was going to fix them?

An alert chimed in my ear.

“Reaper, it’s me,” Elise said. “X-37 patched me into your comms.”

I leaned against the wall. Suddenly, I was exhausted all the way down to my bones. “Elise, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Her image appeared in my HUD. “X-37 is on top of comms today. Can’t believe the strength of this connection. You look rough, Reaper. And don’t tell me that it’s only Jelly’s security cameras.”

“Been a long day,” I said. “Thanks for sending the Archangels, and for ambushing the Obsidian ships.”

“I waited a long time to do that. You can’t understand what a giant prick Scheid is, but let’s table that for another discussion. We don’t have much time. Let’s talk strategy,” she said.

“I came looking for you and the secret of Camis Shae. Naaman told me it’s the key to defeating the Darkness.” I wanted to say so much more. Dozens of questions begged to be answered. I also needed to convince her I was me, and that our bond was stronger than ever. We were linked by circumstances neither of us asked for. Our history hadn’t changed, even if I’d experienced most of it through the memories and LAI data sets of the cyborg who had saved my ass while I was in the cryo-sleep pod. If not for that version of Halek Cain, I’d have been dead or enslaved to Scheid’s mad experiments.

“Naaman? Is that one of the Sethorn rebels? We’ve been attempting to team up with them for years. How did you earn their trust?” she asked. “Don’t even answer that. You probably pulled the same crap you always do and somehow came out a hero. We’ll catch up on the details later.”

“You keep saying that,” I said.

“Those were not her exact words, Reaper Cain.” X-37 displayed the conversation transcript too quickly for me to read.

“Do you mind if X joins us, Elise?” I wanted the kid to myself, though there wasn’t time for a proper reunion. Needs of the mission—that was the way my brain worked. Teamwork wasn’t optional.

“I’m always glad to hear from X-37. How is your LAI?” she asked.

“He’s fantastic. Barely a pain in my ass at all.”

“Hello, Elise. Thank you for asking. I am well despite being tethered to this rather problematic host,” X-37 said.

“Good one, X. That made me laugh.” Elise sounded like she was smiling. “Let’s get to it. General Scheid is a bigger problem every time I run into him. When he first arrived, I knew he was from the Union and that he would be trouble. His influence with the Oroth Council and the citizens increases constantly. We must assume he acts with the full force and authority of the United Sovereignty of Oroth despite the Oroth fleet’s hesitation to back him against the Darkness in our last engagement.”

“Oroth forces really dragged their feet,” I said, remembering the earlier encounter.

“I doubt that will happen again. Scheid’s Obsidians will assassinate the officers who abandoned him, even when they think they’re safe on their own starships. For now, the Oroth forces have rallied, and he has reasserted his control with an iron fist. My scouts recovered the body of their previous admiral where it was floating in space.”

“Harsh.” I thought of what I had done to Tempest Cain and gave a mental shrug. Whatever. The man was just one more dumbass getting a dumbass’s reward. “Tell me more.”

“We located the source of the Darkness and the people using it. Until our latest mission to Camis Shae, my advisors were split into two camps—one convinced that the Darkness is a completely non-human entity we will never understand, and the other positive a human or human-like race is using a dangerous but non-sentient substance for their own purposes. This second theory centers around evidence the Darkness has been portrayed as a mindless killer bent on eating star systems.”

“Yeah, so which is it?” I asked. “A fight on this scale reminds me of the Sansein Mother, or even the Celestials we helped Jace Hughes fight before we left Union space for good.”

Elise hesitated. “This is something new—has to be. We encountered a fleet of humanoid controlled ships covered in the Darkness, a kind of alternate matter with adverse side effects on everything it touches in this galaxy. That implies the operators of the ships were using it for their own purpose—to terrify their enemies.”

“Good theory, but Naaman thinks the Darkness is already infecting people on Sethorn. The way he talks, the evil turns people into slaves,” I said. “He thinks it has been sweeping across the galaxy for eons.”

“He’s not wrong, but I think reality lies somewhere in the middle,” she said. “For now, let’s agree this is an enemy we can fight and defeat.”

“Anything’s possible,” I said. “And you know how I feel about winning.”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Elise’s image flickered. “Stay alive, Reaper. I’ll contact you with more information.”

“Not if I contact you first,” I quipped.

“Very funny, Reaper. I forgot about your lame sense of humor. Gotta go. Take care of yourself.” And with that, her image vanished.

“Are you sleeping on the job, Hal?” Tom demanded via comms.

“Talking to Elise. Where do you need me?” I asked.

“Contact Bug in the cargo bay. You guys really tore that place up. We’re having a hard time closing the fire prevention breach you pushed Tempest Cain through,” Tom said. “I have the trajectory of his body marked for recovery if you’re interested.”

“I’m not, but it would be good to confirm he’s dead.” The fifty or so D3D rounds I put into his floating body should have done the trick, but who knew? By my old mission standards, this would have been considered status pending by my Reaper Corps handlers back in the day.

“I have it on our to-do list. For now, I need you welding the Jellybird back together,” Tom said.

I raised my torch so he could see it via security cameras. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Great, but the cargo bay needs immediate attention.” Tom talked to someone in the background—something about priorities and fixing the stuff that we needed for life support first.

“Don’t give me that, Path!” he barked. “You may be able to hold your breath for days, but the rest of us need air. Calm myself? Please.” A pause. “I am calm! Don’t I sound calm?”

I jogged to the cargo bay, gathering more tools as I went and wincing at the scorch marks and bullet holes where nothing like that should be. When the big stuff was fixed, we’d still have weeks of little jobs to complete.

“You okay, Tom?” I asked.

“Sorry. This is just wrong. I spent years fixing Jelly. By myself. Without a space dock and with crap tools most people couldn’t use to put a coffee maker back together. Now look at her.” Tom hadn’t been this upset since I’d known him.

“Hey, bud, we’re not letting her fall apart. Just take a breath. One problem at a time—that gets things done, right?”

“Sure, Hal. Wow, just wasn’t myself for a moment. Normally I’m the one calming you down.” Tom let out a long breath.

I didn’t completely agree but decided to concede the point. Sure I was willful and spirited, but my friend was making it sound like I was some kind of asshole.

“Are you all right, Reaper Cain? Your cerebral cortex is very active. If you are struggling to assimilate information, I could summarize the data to make it easier,” X-37 said.

“No way, X. I’m good.” All I needed was my LAI telling me Tom was right.

“I am here for you, Reaper Cain.” X-37 refreshed the list of repairs we needed to complete.

“Bug’s already in the cargo bay,” Tom said. “Let me know when you’re done. I’ll keep sending repair tickets to X.”

“Anything for you, Tom.” The moment I arrived, Bug pointed to a patch job that was still leaking atmosphere. I fell in beside him and welded as fast as I could. Nothing looked pretty, but with valuable atmosphere venting at an alarming rate, speed and durability were all that mattered.

Naaman, Decima, and the Archangels pitched in. Once we found our rhythm, it was like watching a ballet of soldiers and mechanics rush from crisis to crisis. Jelly played inspirational music and encouraged us once we were able to remove our helmets.

“Maglan’s Hope has invited us into their fleet. They have supplies, and most importantly, oxygen to replenish what we’ve lost,” Jelly said.

“That’s good news, Jelly.” I went back to work. Memories of Elise and Dreadmax, Greendale, Roxo III, and so many other places played through my imagination as I sealed rents in the walls, floors, and ceilings.

* * *

Elise arrived in person ten hours later.

“You didn’t bring bodyguards?” I asked. “Shouldn’t the admiral of the Maglan fleet have protection?”

“I’m taking most of the Archangels back with me. They are my personal guard. Convincing them to help you took some shouting.”

“I’m sure you hated raising your voice,” I said.

“When have I yelled? Not counting the times we were fighting for our lives?” she replied. “That’s not fair, Reaper. Bad for my reputation as a calm, confident leader one step ahead of our enemies.”

“She has a point, Reaper Cain. Her arguments with you were full of snark and disrespect, but she wasn’t any more prone to tantrums than you are,” X-37 said.

Elise grinned. “Thanks, X.”

“He said I’m not prone to tantrums,” I threw in.

“Actually, Reaper Cain, that is a slight misinterpretation of my statement. You twisted my meaning to reflect positively on your mental stability.”

“Later, X.” I hugged Elise, lifting her off her feet. She hugged back, surprising me by not complaining about the way I was manhandling her.

“Godsdamn it’s good to see you, Reaper,” she said when I put her down.

“You too, kid. And I know you’re not a kid, but I’m feeling nostalgic.” I wanted to jump into a mission. How could we fail with the team back together?

She grabbed my shoulder. “Me too, Hal. Still can’t believe it’s you, but it has to be you. Does that make sense?”

“Totally,” I said. The woman was in her thirties now, definitely not the teenager I’d first met on Dreadmax during another life. Her hair was shorter, her eyes harder, but other than that, she hadn’t aged a bit. The Lex-tech experiments were probably responsible for her youthful vitality. I doubted it was clean living and plenty of sleep. She didn’t have my vices—no cigars or whisky for her as far as I knew—but she was clearly just as prone to diving into dangerous situations as I was and only resting when she collapsed.

“We found you something during a salvage operation,” she said, then handed me a package.

Hiding my emotions, I opened a small box and found a pink doll. The young woman looked a bit like Elise, but with blonde hair and a head that wobbled crazily. “What exactly is this?”

She laughed. “One of the Dreadmax survivors gave it to me for good luck. Haven’t you heard of Foxy Stardust?”

“Yeah, but you’re telling me this toy has traveled across half the galaxy? I don’t really know what to say?” I didn’t, I really didn’t.

“Say thanks. Keep it for good luck,” Elise said, then slugged me in the shoulder.

“You need luck more than I do.” I handed it back.

“No way, Reaper. X, back me up.” She was cheating, and we all knew it.

“X, don’t you dare take her side.”

“Reaper Cain, my analysis shows that she is statistically correct to three standard deviations from the mean score. In scientific parlance, that is convincing evidence that you rely on chance more often than she does,” X-37 said.

“I’d rather have my Archangel armor.” I slipped the bobblehead into a utility pouch. “Whatever. I need a recount.”

Elise threw one arm around me and started walking us to the bridge. “Let’s get Tom, Bug, and Path together so we can talk to Jelly, then I need to head back to my own ship. I’ve got a lot of responsibilities.”

“Sure, kid. I know you do.” Smiling was easy with all the good feelings bubbling up, but I was honest enough to admit I was disappointed. She was leaving already. When this was over, when the Oroth jerks and the Darkness were handled, I was going to spend more quality time with my friends.

“You dodged my question.”

“No I didn’t, Reaper. We’ve got all of your stuff on the Nightmare, but she’s on a mission,” Elise said. “You can have your Archangel rig when she’s back.”

“I thought Novasdaughter was in command of the Nightmare.” The sound of the woman’s voice on the comms had been distinct. A lot had changed during my ten year nap.

“New blood captaining the Nightmare. Novasdaughter is my executive officer now,” she said. “Like the Archangels I’m leaving you. Try not to corrupt them.”

“Like I did you.”

Her smile took me back to Dreadmax. “Exactly. Don’t teach them bad habits. Give them the good stuff, like when you taught me how to shoot and clear rooms and operate as part of a team.”

“Sounds like work,” I joked.

“They’re the best of their class. Already had a lot of advanced training and years of experience. Don’t let their baby faces fool you. They’re killers.” She stepped back, looking me over one last time. “Don’t let me down, Reaper.”

I didn’t have the words, so I delivered the time honored reverse chin nod that conveyed ultimate coolness. “See you around, kid.”

The hatch to her shuttle was nearly closed when I heard “not a kid.”

I smiled frequently during the next several hours of tough physical labor. The end of the day brought a well-deserved nap, two trays of bland food from the galley, and the start of my next shift on the bridge.

2

“Status, Jelly?” I tightened my safety harness, then unlocked the manual controls. If the ship AI needed my improvisation skills, I was ready. Anything would be a welcome change from crawling into tight spaces to splice the starship back together.

“Repairs are progressing satisfactorily. I am at seventy-nine percent functionality thanks to recent repairs—not much to look at but ready for action,” Jelly said.

“You’re gorgeous, Jelly.” What else could I say about the ship that had saved my ass, and my friends, more times than I could count.

“Compliment detected, Captain. Thank you.” She pushed streams of data across the holo-viewer. “Oroth ships have neither fallen off pursuit nor gained on us, but please remember they are starting from a closer relative position than the Darkness anomaly. The latter is swarming with renewed vigor and will overtake us without immediate action.”

“Enhance images,” I said. “The Darkness swarm moves like ships. Identify groups and give me a count of each subunit. I bet they’re flying in squads.”

Tom studied the results from the copilot’s seat but held his opinion. Behind me, Bug started pacing.

“Am I wrong?” The more I stared at our strangest enemy yet, the more convinced I was of my conclusion.

“X-37 is revising my data,” Jelly said, “but you seem to be correct. That does not mean the Darkness is made of ships as we know them. X-37 and I have mined data from every report we could access. There are a hundred years of opinions claiming the Darkness is radically different from a human or humanoid centric enemy.”

“That’s not evidence. Give me more than an informed guess and semi-religious beliefs.” My gut told me this was nothing like the Celestials Jace Hughes and his coalition had faced down. That confrontation was part of my past. I tried to block it out, but if Naaman was right, this might be nearly as bad. I checked Jelly’s course to see if I should take the controls.

For about five seconds I worried about the reemergence of the Sansein, but I’d fought them several times and was confident they hadn’t come back to settle old scores—whatever those might be in their very non-human thought processes. But memories of the toughest fight of my life always brought me back to the Black Phoenix and how it had nearly cooked me when I used it.

Right now, the BP seemed like a weapon I wanted in my arsenal, even though I knew it was gone. My friends had been right. We just couldn’t control it. Keeping the alien tech had been too dangerous while Maglan was at peace. But still, that didn’t mean I couldn’t daydream about fighting with the most overpowered weapon in the galaxy.

My LAI weighed in. “If it looks like a swarm of unexplainable dark matter, moves like a swarm of—”

“I get it, X, but that doesn’t mean it’s a duck,” I finished.

“Do you know what a duck is, Reaper Cain?” X demanded.

“Kinda sorta, but you know I’m right.”

“Please refrain from using ancient sayings you don’t really understand,” X-37 said. “I do applaud your insistence on evidence-based analysis, but that doesn’t make you right.”

“Am I wrong? Could these be just another version of the Oroth jerks disguised as space evil?” I asked.

“I have insufficient data to form a conclusion, Reaper Cain.”

“Exactly.” I couldn’t unsee the patterns I’d noticed. The Darkness appeared as pure chaos to most people, but to me it behaved as naturally as any other swarm, or fleet, I’d encountered. “It’s a swarm-fleet.”

“Nice,” Bug said. “Very catchy. I’m sure all of Elise’s captains will pick up the phrase.”

Maybe I was just wired for chaos. Most of my time had been spent on the run, fighting for my life, and watching everything around me come apart—oftentimes literally.

“I detect patterns,” Tom said. “But now they’re gone. It seemed they rotated around a power source, but that makes no sense without something like a command vessel to carry it.”

I swiped away safety restrictions. “I don’t like the Oroth persistence. Let’s get out of here, Jelly.”

“Of course, Captain. Do you wish to take manual control?” Jelly asked.

“Not yet. Work with Tom on navigation and speed. I’ll pilot if we get into a fight.”

“Acceleration in progress,” Jelly advised. “Please secure safety harnesses.”

A tremor ran through the ship. Tom’s worried expression assured me it wasn’t my imagination. I reviewed my share of the recent repairs and struggled to remember any time we’d traveled faster than our current speed with nothing broken. This was dangerous as hell.

The Darkness surged forward. Oroth ships closed the distance from a different vector. I didn’t like what I was seeing on the navigation screen.

Numbers on my holo-viewer increased beyond safe speeds. Nervous tension grew in my gut. I couldn’t shake it, not even with Path’s breathing techniques and X regulating my hormone production.

Lights flickered. Sounds came from the engine room no one ever wanted to hear on a starship.

“Captain, I am losing power,” Jelly said.

The readout numbers dropped precipitously. My premonition of doom grew stronger.

“Apologies, Captain. At this point I can’t predict which of our enemies will reach us first.” Jelly posted fresh numbers, but I ignored them. “We’re moving fast but nothing to write home about. Not like before. Not enough to stay ahead of our enemies for long.”

“Do what you can and alert all hands to prep their EVA gear,” I said. “Tom, talk to me.”

Tom typed frantically as he read holo- and flat-screen displays. “Looking for the problem, but there have been so many repairs. My logs are full of notes.”

Naaman and Decima crowded onto the bridge as three Oroth vessels raced ahead of their fleet.

“I don’t like the look of those things,” I said. “Smells like a special operations team.”

“Lightning class—a favorite of Oroth forces for the few who can get them.” Decima pointed to distinctive features around the engines. “Fast, hard to kill, and crewed by their best pilots. Jump Force Troopers use them for transport when they can.”

“JFT.” I let the abbreviation hang in the air. Jelly still hadn’t recovered her speed. My options were limited. “Tough fighters, but not Obsidians.”

“These will be their best,” Naaman said. “You don’t understand how vast the Sovereignty of Oroth is. With billions of people on their home world alone, they have a lot of candidates to choose from. Their special operations teams, as you keep calling them, have a dozen tiers. Not even my cousin Jag looks forward to tangling with the top two or three battalions.”

“Battalions? Great.” This was getting better and better. Why couldn’t I face one enemy at a time?

“These ships are very intent on intercepting us before the Darkness.” Jelly updated the range measurements. “Do you wish to hail them? Perhaps a temporary alliance would be in order. I don’t like the look of the alternative.”

Naaman dropped his blood-red hood. The old version of hard skin made his face look like steel. I thought he might punch me for dragging him this far from Sethorn, but circumstances kept us on the same side. “We must have an alliance against the Darkness. You haven’t seen what it has done on other worlds.”

“Sure, but this isn’t a good time, and I doubt their spec ops trigger men have the authority to negotiate,” I said. “How do we start that conversation? Hey, we just slaughtered your Obsidian goons, but do you think we could put that behind us and work together?”

“Something like that,” Naaman said. “The Obsidians are not a true part of their fleet. Many resent General Scheid and his shock troopers. If these really are the Oroth Elite, they might share a pipe and some hard cider with you—once we’re all done killing each other.”

“You respect them?” I asked.

Naaman’s expression darkened, something I hadn’t thought was possible. “Don’t push me, Halek Cain.”

Decima stepped gracefully between us, then spread her hands as though to say her cousin had a point. Neither Bug nor Tom stood up for my hesitance to negotiate. I understood the rivalry but thought Scheid had too much influence on his Oroth masters for the tactic to work.

“Jelly, establish a connection with the lead ship,” I said.

“Right away, Captain.”

X-37 beeped privately. “Try not to aggravate our only potential allies.”

“They’re not allies, and I don’t trust the JFT. Even without Tempest, they’re dangerous. Look at what their citizen Ion Dawn did. He wasn’t even in their military, and he tried to get us killed. Now isn’t the time for this,” I subvocalized. “Scheid is the real threat. We can’t forget that.”

Tom gave me a look. He understood I was having a conference with my LAI. The technique I used sounded like I was cursing under my breath, but my old friend had seen and heard the behavior before.

“I have established a connection, but they are refusing incoming messages unless they receive an unconditional and immediate surrender,” Jelly said.

“See? Can’t reason with these people,” I said. “Why did we lose power? What’s the prognosis, Jelly?”

“I am unable to reverse the loss of power. The problem seems to be belowdecks—near the engine room,” Jelly advised. “Please send a repair crew belowdecks to assess damage in section 344F.”

“Can Oroth technology do this?” I asked. “Could they have hit us with some type of beam?”

“No,” Decima said. “They have never exceeded the skill of Sethorn shipbuilders. Their power lies in numbers and firepower, not superior technology.”

“I’ll go,” Tom said. “Bug, gear up. Might not be atmosphere belowdecks.”

“I hate hull breaches.” Bug looked ready to curse. “Who repaired that section?”

“Reaper Cain worked on three damaged panels in section 344F,” X-37 said. “You should go with them to save time.”

“Thanks, X. Bug, stay here in case Jelly needs a pair of hands. I’ll go with Tom this time.” I popped my knuckles. “There wasn’t much damage when I was down there. All I did was reinforce some suspicious looking ripples in the hull.”

“Yes, I am reading your report, Captain,” Jelly said. “Proceed with caution.”

Tom and I ran shoulder to shoulder. We burst into the equipment room and quickly donned protective gear. A pair of Archangels watched us.

“Either of you rated for ship repair?” I asked, glancing at their nameplates.

Sykes and Billiam pointed at each other.

“Very helpful.” I pulled on my EVA helmet, even though the hard skin provided some protection against void exposure. The Sethorn armor didn’t hold extra oxygen or provide sufficient insulation for an extended space walk. It was back to the basics for this mission. Fortunately the Sethorn tech could be worn under standard safety equipment.

“Neither of us are mechanics, but Billiam would be glad to try,” Sykes said.

Billiam stood at parade rest. “I would, sir. Just point the way.”

“Maybe next time. Just stay frosty.” I didn’t know these guys but had seen their type. “We’re about to get boarded by the JFT.”

“Looking forward to it, Reaper,” Sykes said.

Billiam gave me a thumbs-up, then nodded at Tom respectfully.

“Carry on, son.” Tom smiled like they were kids from the neighborhood, young men he was proud of.

“They look young,” I said to X-37 once we were alone. “And what’s with Tom? He's not their dad.”

“Accurate.” My LAI paused—like a person might take a breath before diving into a touchy subject. “However, my analysis suggests you appear several years younger than they do. “

“Not sure how I feel about that, X.” Waking up after years on ice had advantages and disadvantages, and they popped up when least expected.

“Tom became a respected member of Maglan society before the attacks. They may not remember his name, but they surely recognize his face.” My LAI sounded like he was enjoying this. “You’re not as famous as you once were.”

“Whatever.”

“You should adjust your attitude during future leadership events. Those who do not know you may wonder just who the hell you think you are,” X-37 said.

“Elise looks pretty young,” I countered.

“Yes, due to the Lex-tech experiments. But she is also Elise Hastings, the most famous leader of the Maglan coalition and a hero of a hundred space battles.” My LAI displayed several news articles that had occurred while I was asleep.

“Hand me that wrench,” Tom said.

Lying upside down in total darkness except for a head lamp, I fumbled through a box of tools until I found what I thought my friend was looking for. “This one?”

“It will work.” Tom juggled the wrench, caught it, then swore, something I rarely heard him do. “Every mechanic who came on this ship before us used different parts suppliers. Nothing is standardized. Putting her back together with salvaged parts while you were napping for ten years didn’t help. We really need a proper dry dock and some Union-trained engineers.”

“X, put that on the list,” I said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to find a safe port.”

“Sarcasm definitely detected, but I will get on it right away, Reaper Cain.”

“Also look for a self-paced ship repair course,” Tom said. “Jelly should have a curriculum if you don’t.”

“You’re the best mechanic I’ve ever worked with, Tom. You could educate anyone,” I said.

“I’ll customize a course for you, Hal. What the hell were you trying to do here? These wires are knotted every which way. Looks like you were welding sections at random,” he said.

“I thought it needed reinforcement here. You know, to keep the hull from tearing open.”

Tom shook his head, then vacuumed fog from the inside of his visor with a press of a button. “You’ve altered the thermodynamic properties of these panels. Right there, see that one? What do you think that is?”

“The inside of the hull, that big shapely thing that keeps the void out and all this delicious air in,” I said.

Tom pointed at a section with his flashlight. “No, Hal. That’s behind another foot of insulation. This is a heat sink that you hash marked with welding lines.”

“So that’s wrong?”

Tom laughed. “Yeah, Hal. But there are a lot of other problems down here that aren’t your fault. We need another set of hands. Climb up there and see if Billiam or Sykes knows a wrench from a tape measure. And check with Jelly about our pursuers.”

“Yes, sir,” I grumbled.

He chuckled as he continued to work.

I poked my head through the floor opening. “Archangel.”

Both men looked down.

“Which one?” Billiam asked.

“Whichever knows more about ship repair than I do.” That didn’t come out right, but I pressed onward. “And has a high-level EVA rating.”

Billiam pointed at Sykes.

Sykes pointed at Billiam.

“He’ll volunteer,” they chorused.

“You know what? This just turned into a team mission.” I climbed out and headed for the airlock. “Do your safety checks, and let’s do this.”

“On your six, Reaper,” Billiam said, his tone cheerful.

Sykes stage whispered to his friend. “Do you think he’s as lame at EVA missions as the general says?”

“Shut it. He can probably hear you,” Billiam said.

“Just do your checks.” I muted the link so I could have a serious talk with X-37. “Has Elise been talking shit on me?”

“That seems very likely, Reaper Cain.”

The first stage of the exterior repair mission went smoothly. I climbed out and magnetically secured my boots to the hull. Billiam and Sykes followed without problems. Their banter died away. I took that as a good sign. Fun and games were great, but professionals needed to know when to turn it off and take care of business.

“Stop right there, Hal.” Tom sent a wire diagram to my HUD.

“Got it,” I said. “Billiam, Sykes—are you seeing this.”

Billiam answered. “We are, Reaper.”

“There should be a protrusion, kind of like a bubble in the shielding. Find it and let me know,” Tom said.

I pointed to my right and left. “Form a line. We’ll do a grid search so we don’t miss anything.”

“Yes, sir,” the Archangels answered.

“Remember that time General Elise left our entire squad floating near a salvage operation to teach us to remain calm and control our breathing,” Billiam said as we searched.

“No, I completely forgot about that. Were you scared?” Sykes said.

Billiam pointed at him. “You crapped your pants.”

The confidence in their voices wasn’t terrible—it made the work easier. But I had to say something. “Focus.”

“Focusing,” Billiam said.

We covered a large section and didn’t find what Tom had described. “Do you know where she learned that trick with the space walk test?” I asked.

“No, but we’d love to find out. I knew this assignment would pay off—not nearly the waste of time Billiam said it would be,” Sykes said.

“Waste of time, eh? Whatever. A sword saint manufactured a crisis in a debris field. Elise nearly died.” The memory was less terrifying with so many years between then and now, but it still gave me a chill.

“I knew it,” Sykes said. “That rumor was true. Pay up.”

“Godsdammit. I still owe you from our last bet,” Billiam said. “But maybe this will make up for my bad luck. I found the hull bubble.”

I moved to his location and confirmed we were in the right place. “Tom, we have it. I’m sending you an image.”

“Got it.” Time passed as Tom sent a series of text instructions. “All right, I sent you the step by step, but essentially I want you to rip that off and throw it away.”

“Seriously?” Billiam asked.

Something caught my eye, the form of a man bolted to the hull. My blood ran cold.

“Hal?” Tom asked. “Are you okay? Your camera is still transmitting. What is that shape?”

“Nothing. I’ll check it when we’re done with this. What did you want us to do?” I wanted to zoom in, but it wasn’t the same without a cybernetic eye. Maybe I needed to pop one in next time I met with James Henshaw. Why the hell not? I already had two cybernetic arms and hard skin I rarely took off. The effect of the combined technology was pretty badass, so far as I’d been able to test it.

“Okay, Hal. Just keep me informed. Billiam and Sykes are ready to get this done if you’re not,” Tom said. “Maybe you should let them handle it. Supervise or something.”

“Supervising now.” My voice sounded distracted even to my own ears.

Billiam and Sykes laughed and cracked jokes as they ripped off three different pieces of the hull at Tom’s instruction. Hurling them into the void was the highlight of their day, apparently.

“Why didn’t we keep the pieces, Tom?” I asked.

“If I had a smelter I could recycle the raw materials, but the ion alignments are off. Complicated. Just trust me on this one. I’ll come out there and reattach panels once I finish fabricating them in my workshop,” Tom said. “Come inside, and we’ll go over what to do next.”

“We need to see what this bump on our hull is first.” I made eye contact with Billiam and Sykes. “Be ready to fight.”

“If that’s a person, it has to be dead,” Sykes said. “But we’ll be ready for anything.”

“Good.” I took the lead and found exactly what I expected, the frozen corpse of Tempest Cain. “How the hell did he get back to the ship, X? I watched him pinwheeling away from us.”

“Unknown,” X-37 said.

“You threw the last piece of junk,” Sykes said. “This one is mine.”

“We’re bringing him inside.” I knew this was the right call. Instinct told me Tempest was still holding onto secrets.

“You’re the Reaper,” Billiam said. “Kinda grim, if you ask me.”

I ignored that. “We’ll lock him in cold storage. You two will guard the door.”

“Great. That sounds exciting,” Sykes said.

“Rotate with your squad.” I knelt by the corpse, then pried open his visor. No air came out. “He bolted his armor to the hull before he suffocated.”

“Sucked to be him,” Billiam said. “Get frosty dude’s feet, Sykes.”

We broke him free from the exterior of the hull and floated him back to the airlock. Neither of the Archangels spoke until the body was locked in a storage room almost as cold as outside the ship.

“I am preparing a brief for James Henshaw,” X-37 said privately. “He is the best candidate for an autopsy. Tom could help you with an analysis of his gear when there is time.”

“You might also check with Tom to see whose body he marked for recovery.” I didn’t like loose ends.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. There were many casualties from that engagement.”

“Thanks, X. That wasn’t what I expected from a simple repair mission,” I said.

“You never know with a Reaper.” Billiam bumped fists with Sykes like this was an inside joke. “That’s what General Elise always says.”

3

The Oroth assault ships caught the Jellybird before I completed my obligatory two hour nap. X-37 was on my ass lately about rest and recovery.

“You will feel healthier and perform better,” X-37 said as I marched to the cargo bay to repel the latest round of boarders.

“Barely slept,” I mumbled as I pulled my battered Obsidian gauntlets over the hard skin that was practically a part of my cybernetic hands now.

“Nonsense, Reaper Cain. You slept for the entire two hours, though your sleep quality leaves a lot to be desired,” X-37 said. “Tom and Jelly are sending us the most recent scans of the Oroth boarding shuttles. Naaman, Decima, Path, and Bug are ready, as are the Archangels. Would you like a complete roster? They have eight operators and one supervisor.”

“Union rank structure or Maglan?” I asked.

“General Elise simplified and standardized her operations. Soldiers of this unit are simply referred to as Archangels. The supervisor is an Archangel Sergeant, or just sergeant.” X-37 provided a handy rank chart in my HUD.

“Can Jelly hold up to another battle?” I asked.

My LAI gave a nearly meaningless answer. “Less damage would be better.”

I gathered the defenders in the cargo bay, then hopped on a crate. “I know you’re all wondering why I called this meeting.”

Laughter rippled through the group, Archangels and my Sethorn friends alike. Bug feigned embarrassment with a shake of his head, and Path gave a reserved smile.

I continued. “The Oroth jerks will send their best Jump Force Troopers. I’ve fought with, and against, the JFT. Don’t underestimate them. I’m talking to you, Billiam.”

More laughter. The camaraderie was good before a battle.

“Naaman suggested capturing as many as possible, then turning them over to General Elise for detention and interrogation,” I said. “These nets will help us get it done. Naaman, give us a demonstration.”

“Of course.” He lifted a modified cargo net. “Decima and I will do most of the capture maneuvers, but you all need to know the basics. The bright yellow squares are the best handholds for the way these are balanced. Grab like this, twist as you swing overhead, and gather momentum, then release like… this. Hold on to the drag line as it flies.”

The net spread out as it sailed across the room and captured one of our cargo crate barricades.

Shouts of appreciation went up among the Archangels. “Maaag-lan!”

“Show us one more time, then each of you needs to practice it until Jelly announces the two-minute warning.” I retrieved the first net and handed it to Naaman. “Keeping the ship in one piece is kind of important.”

* * *

“Correct, Captain,” Jelly said. “Contact with the Oroth assault ships is inevitable. It was only a matter of time before we were caught.”

The Archangel squad waited on one side of the cargo bay. I didn’t know them except for Billiam and Sykes, who were more outgoing than the others. I couldn’t blame them for their reticence. They probably wanted to be doing their jobs, protecting Elise, not another Reaper they only had to believe was the real deal. From what Billiam and Sykes had described, their unit had fought off several assassination attempts by Reaper clones.

Hell, in their position, I wouldn’t trust me either.

I moved to the other side of our designated kill zone to stand with Bug, Path, Naaman, and Decima. No one spoke. We checked each other’s gear, then went through our private rituals. A long time ago, practically in another life, I valued silence before a mission above all else. It gave me time to think, and I owed it to my companions not to distract them.

“Are we ready?” Jelly asked. “They are attached to the exterior of the cargo bay and are preparing to cut their way inside. I’d rather not sustain more damage. The Oroth assault shuttle is larger than a Maglan or Union version of the same craft and may contain unpleasant surprises.”

“And we’re tired of putting you back together,” Bug said.

Jelly barely hesitated before answering. “Did you just include me in your pre-combat trash talking? Thank you for this honor.”

“It isn’t advisable to crack jokes with a ship AI,” X-37 warned me privately. “Even though you know and trust Jelly, it might lead to assuming she has emotions that she does not.”

“We’re good, X. Thanks for the reminder.” I raised my D3D to the low ready position, high enough that I only needed to move it a couple of inches to line up the sites, but low enough I could still search my field of fire without blocking my vision with my own weapon. My friends and Archangels took similar stances behind the barricade we had constructed for this encounter.

“I will deploy a smokescreen, then open the cargo bay door,” Jelly advised.

“Remember, we’ll capture a few, but our primary objective is to drive them back onto their own ship and possibly steal it,” I said. “Or at least snag some primo salvage.”

Bug shifted foot to foot. “Don’t get greedy, Hal.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I said.

Bug fired back immediately. “Stupid is as stupid does.”

“You just made that up,” I said. “Help me out, X.”

“The Reaper is correct on this one. I find no references to this phrase ever being used in the recorded history of humankind or in mythology.” X-37 overlaid targeting reticles in my HUD. We had experimented with the technique to replace my cybernetic eye. I didn’t love it and wished for my old upgrades—as sick as that sounded when I really thought about it.

Did I actually want to be more machine than man?

Thoughts like that kept me awake when I should be sleeping. Memories of failure, like when I dropped Novasdaughter’s mother from the bridge and all the other times I came up short, refused to vanish. For a few heartbeats, I was tired—sick of constantly fighting to keep my friends alive. It was the only thing I knew how to do, and it would be easier if I had better tools.

Smoke poured into the cargo bay. Jelly’s fans forced it toward the doors as she opened them. Two JFT squads rushed forward, peeling right and left to get out of our kill zone. They opened fire as they moved.

I squeezed off a burst from my D3D to draw fire, then ducked behind my barricade of reinforced storage crates. Naaman hurled his net from the right, Decima flung hers from the left, and the attackers were entangled. Both of the Sethorn fighters pulled hard on the ropes and gathered up their unwilling prizes.

A second team of JFT burst into view, already pivoting toward the two-pronged capture attempt. Gunfire filled the room. I couldn’t hear them shouting because their helmets were sealed.

The Archangels rose from cover, their HDK Maglan Specials streaming tracer rounds into the Oroth Jump Force Troopers. Were the brightly colored tracers necessary?

Absolutely not, but the shock and awe of the tactic in close quarters put our attackers back on their heels.

“They’re cutting free!” Naaman shouted. He wrestled with his cluster of prisoners. Few could fight effectively with the net tangled around their arms and legs, and across faceplates. Nothing about the mess of writhing bodies looked dignified or comfortable.

One JFT dragged out his boot knife and sawed at his portion of the net energetically.

“Path, help Naaman,” I said, then ran to support Decima’s fight.

I leapt through the air just as two JFT were pulling free of Decima’s net. She kicked the feet out from one, then looped the drag rope around her netted prisoners to reinforce the binding. I landed on the pile, slamming my weight down on all who resisted.

“This is incredibly undignified, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Later, X!”

One of my opponents stabbed outward, catching me in the eye with a tip of a combat knife.

I yanked back, cursing at the blinding pain. Bug disarmed my attacker, grabbed a loose section of the net, and pulled it tight. Decima hauled on the rope again, and the resistance diminished.

Staggering away with my hand over my left eye, I aimed my D3D with the other hand at the third wave of JFT and held down the trigger.

“Fuck, X. I didn’t actually want a new eye. Shit, I wish Henshaw were here to patch me up.” I tried to blink away the misery.

“Your eye was not actually punctured, Reaper Cain. Please calm down. Stop acting like a rookie in boot camp,” X-37 said. “The Sethorn hard skin held integrity.”

“I was stabbed in the eye!”

“Reaper Cain, you have explained your dislike of needless drama many times.”

“X, I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” I retreated behind a barrier before removing my hand from my eye. Pain diminished, though my entire head throbbed. Tears flowed inside the hard skin barrier.

Spots danced in my vision, but by the time my friends and the Archangels began their counterattack on the Oroth assault shuttle, I could basically see.

Not perfectly.

But at least I had two eyes.

No need for cybernetics in this Reaper’s face.

“Follow me!” Bug shouted, then led the way.

Path, Bug, and the Archangels charged into the enemy ship and seized control of the docking clamps before the Oroth crew could disengage. Bug ordered them to the ground with his external speaker, shouting with such confidence that I wanted to get down. The kid from Dreadmax had come a long way from eating cheese crackers and giving me crap over an intercom.

I jogged after them, picking up the pace as my vision cleared. The interior of the Oroth ship was old and worn out but meticulously cared for. Details of hard use and diligent maintenance told me a lot about the enemies we faced. Until now, I’d seen them as this grand empire of potential violence. They weren’t unstoppable foes. In a way, there was little difference between them and the Union or other large civilizations in the galaxy.

The Archangel sergeant, last name Terrence by his name plate, pointed at me, Bug, and Path. “Hold their landing bay. We’ll clear the rest of the ship.”

“Try not to kill everyone,” I said.

“Nice, coming from a Reaper.” He moved to the center of his team, and they started to move. “Don’t leave without us.”

Bug looked at me when they were gone. “I like him.”

“Whatever.” I reloaded magazines, then secured our newest prisoners. “We should leave most of them here. They can eat their own food while waiting for recovery.”

“Because we’re going to jettison their engines before we leave,” Bug said.

We bumped fists.

“You can’t do that,” said an Oroth crewman. “We could float out here for months before they find us.”

“Then you better eat small portions,” I said.

“Go to hell, Reaper. Yeah, we know who you are. And you better pray your Archangel friends take control of the ship, because if they don't, we're going to treat you just like you treated us.”

“I think we have been nice, don’t you?” I asked Bug.

“Hell yeah. Maybe we should torture them.” He pulled out his knife.

“Let me think about it.” As intimidating acts went, this wasn’t my best, but I was tired and worried about how long the Archangels were taking. This wasn’t that big of a ship.

The Oroth crewman stopped talking, but I doubted he was done.

4

“My name is David Schipper, in case you care,” the crewman announced.

I looked up from my vambrace screen and measured him with a glance. “I don’t.”

He opened his mouth to speak.

I held up one finger. “Silence… is a virtue.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

I didn’t respond.

“Give me a grid map, X. I need an update.” My own search showed little progress by the Archangels—icons holding at the door to the control deck. Sometimes they advanced, sometimes they fell back, but they never reached the cockpit.

X-37 displayed a duplicate of my work, then added details—ammunition counts, damage reports, estimated structural integrity of doors, walls, and internal systems like power and air. “Is that what you were looking for, Reaper Cain?”

“Show off.”

Sergeant Terrence and his squad were taking too long. Worse, they hadn’t bothered to share any updates. Hence the reason I was combing the security system for scraps—just to check my LAI’s work and build my skills.

Bug had already searched, field interrogated, and separated each of the crew members we’d captured. I’d completed an inventory of the bay and the adjoining rooms before plopping into my current role.

Silence on the tactical channel could be a good thing—or it could mean something had gone horribly wrong.

The Oroth assault ship wasn’t that large. This was bullshit. “X, check on the Archangels?”

“Right away, Reaper Cain.”

Schipper laughed in that special way that earned most people a Reaper throat punch. “You don’t know anything, do you? What’s the matter, never faced real resistance before?”

I thought back to my time in the Union. Assault shuttles were exactly what the description suggested, little more than a conveyance for hard-chargers sent to storm spaceports and enemy ships and anything that needed an unforgettable lesson. Prior to my dark ops career, I’d been on plenty of assaults where even the pilot joined in. Commander Kenneth Miles had been my favorite, always parking the assault craft and pitching in to help with the fighting when we hit the ground.

That guy had been funny. How many other people had I forgotten when my clone took over and my original body went into storage?

“You’re not even listening,” Schipper said. “But you will be, when your fancy friends reach the Defenders.”

I paused my work. “You say that like it means something.”

He laughed nervously. “I shouldn’t say anything, but the Oroth Council hates losing ships. So they don’t. You know why? Because of the law.” His voice took on the tone of somebody reciting from a manual. “No ship, no matter what size, shall be with less than two Defenders, and those valiant individuals shall have the heaviest armor and weapons possible. Failure to honor the letter and the spirit of this directive shall result in one hundred years of hard labor or death, depending on the will of the court.”

Bug cursed.

“I don’t like the sound of that, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“Me neither, X. Send a warning to Sergeant Terrence and the others.” I scrolled through the surveillance cameras my LAI had hacked into thus far. The ship was bigger than I’d thought it would be but not enormous. By Union standards, it would have been a waste of material just to deploy a few squads. I needed to ditch my previous thinking. The Sovereignty of Oroth resembled my old Union masters in all the bad ways, but they weren’t the same. Making assumptions would get me and my friends killed.

“I have established comms with Sergeant Terrence of the Archangels,” X-37 said.

“Put me through.” I flinched as the sound of gunfire, explosions, and swear words filled my helmet.

“Take a breath, Sergeant,” I said.

“Well, it’s about time. We’ve sent three requests for assistance.” Sergeant Terrence shouted orders while the comms were still open. “Hold that line! I know you’re by yourself, Heller! Godsdammit! Billiam—Sykes is down and off-line. Crawl over there and find out what the hell his problem is!”

I faced Bug. “Lock everyone down. You may have to come help. If Schipper and his buddies give you a problem, just pitch them out the airlock. I don’t even care at this point. They should have warned us.”

“I did warn you,” Schipper said. “Reaper.”

“Wipe that grin off your face before you lose it.” He leaned back as far as he could, apparently aware that I had meant his entire face rather than just the expression. Maybe the way I flexed my cybernetic fists supplied the context he needed. Finally.

“You must proceed to the main corridor, then crawl through an access passage made for repair robots,” X-37 said. “The Defenders, capital D, seem to be holding all of the key points of the ship. I suspect they will self-destruct the vessel should we press them too forcefully.”

“Hack into their communications and assess whether they’ve got the balls to do something like that. I’d bet money they don’t.” I popped open the hatch and crawled into a dark space that reminded me too much of Dreadmax. According to the map in my HUD, I didn’t have far to go, so that was nice. Practically a fucking vacation.

“My analysis of their crosstalk is inconclusive.” X-37 printed documentation in my text field. He also issued several nearly subliminal beeps to warn me he was processing information. We had worked on that part of our interaction. For years, my cyborg predecessor, the actual survivor of the BMSP and Dreadmax, had preferred silent subroutines for the most part. I found it useful to know when my LAI was busy.

I kept my mouth shut and crawled. Less than a minute later, I was looking into a room full of defenders. Four men and three women held pistols ready. They wore helmets with no body armor and looked nervous. Fighting wasn’t their military occupational specialty—I’d bet a Starbrand on it.

Schipper’s Defenders were something else. I couldn’t tell if they were men or women, but they were definitely armored beyond anything necessary for internal ship security. These goons looked like they were ready to hit a planet and take it down single-handedly. Bulky armor, helmets nearly as wide as their shoulders—the pair looked inhuman. With headgear that lacked any type of visors, these two could take a lot of abuse and keep fighting. Pinhole cameras provided their view of the area around them, or that was my theory.

“Sergeant Terrence, can you read me?” I asked.

“Loud and clear. Where the hell are you now?”

“I crawled through the repair bot sublevel,” I said. “Listen up. You have seven crewmen with helmets and sidearms just inside the door. Behind them are two heavily armored Defenders. And by heavily armored, I mean you don’t have anything that can pierce their chest or helmet defenses.”

Terrence made a dismissive sound. “Don’t you remember using Archangel armor? We’ve got weapons capable of piercing a void or armored ground car depending on the needs of the mission.”

“That’s great, but I’m telling you, these are walking tanks designed to make a last stand.” My patched-together Obsidian armor felt inadequate—like one of those dreams when you go to school in your underwear.

“Okay, Reaper. I’ll take your word for it. What about the regular crew?” Terrence asked. “Can we remove them from the equation?”

I wasn’t sure exactly what the man was asking. Did he want them killed or rescued despite the impossibility of protecting anyone in a close fight like this?

The room wasn’t large. The armored defenders stood at the back of the group to block access to the actual cockpit. They had one job. The others were just bullet stoppers.

“X, can you contact the ship AI and start a negotiation? Have Jelly help you if possible,” I said.

My LAI didn’t respond immediately. The armored Defenders shouted down one of the regular crew. The man gave it right back, despite how small and vulnerable he appeared. I couldn’t hear the argument well because of the echoes, but it seemed like one of them was telling the lead hulk this was his job, not theirs.

“He’s not wrong,” I muttered.

“Please focus, Reaper Cain.” X-37 went silent for a moment, then returned. “Jelly and I have contacted the extremely rudimentary AI controlling this vessel. In short, the program isn’t self-aware or sophisticated. The Oroth Council does not trust machines. They are high functioning computers and little else.

“Can you just hack into it?” I asked.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. There is a problem, however. As simple as these systems are, there will be an alert sent throughout their fleet. While this will take time to navigate to all their ships, it will provoke countermeasures in the future. In short, our efforts to hack into their systems will be much more difficult. Is now the time and place for us to spend this advantage?”

“Let me think for a second.” My neck cramped as I peered into the room, certain they would spot me and blast away at any moment. The idea of crawling through more of the maintenance bots' access tubes didn’t thrill me. I wasn’t sure I could reach the other side of the room ever, and certainly not swiftly.

Worse, if I made it closer to the cockpit, then dropped down, I would still have to fight the Defenders with a capital D. They’d turn on me like bigger, stupider versions of Archangels, which were heavily armored and powerful enough to smash most of their enemies.

“We need a soft kill, X,” I said. “Please tell me there is a way to eject them into space.”

“No, Reaper Cain.” X scrolled through newly stolen ship diagrams. “Please be serious for once.”

“Wow. What’s with the hostility?” I asked. “Throwing enemies off a ship is always a good choice. When possible.”

“Reaper Cain, you are showing high levels of impatience. While this is a normal state for you, this incident has brought this behavior to a new level. Please slow down, think, and do the right thing.”

The Oroth crew broke out welding torches, cut loose a workstation from the cockpit, a pair of lockers from a supply closet, and everything else they could fasten across the blast door. I almost felt bad for anyone at this level of desperation.

Nothing they could do at this point would make the blast doors noticeably stronger. Anyone who could breach the main door would have no problem defeating their improvised measures.

“What are we trying to achieve?” I asked.

“Was that question for me, Reaper Cain?”

“No, it was for the wall.”

A pause. “To be fair, that could have been a rhetorical bit of sarcasm aimed at the Oroth crew. They are floundering around ineffectively. Nothing they have done will prevent the inevitable. The Archangels will prevail. It will be bloody and destructive.”

“We don’t have time for that. Connect me to Jelly and Sergeant Terrence.” I waited until both were on the same comm channel.

“Tell me you have an idea, Reaper,” Terrence said.

“Sure do. Jelly, what salvage do you need from this ship to complete your repairs?” I asked.

“The list is comprehensive, Captain.”

“Is there anything you can’t live without on the control deck, or in the actual cockpit?” I wasn’t going to get people killed fighting for stuff we didn’t need.

“Many of the components would be useful but are not needed—strictly speaking,” Jelly said. “Most of the damage sustained during our recent encounters has been to the hull and basic infrastructure. Our chief problem is a lack of raw materials like metal alloys and cables.”

Sergeant Terrence broke in. “That doesn’t matter. We have to have control of the command deck to control the ship.”

“Do we?” I asked. “Why can’t we just strip what we need, then disable her engines from the outside. Leave them here with a distress beacon. That would draw away resources from the Oroth fleet. We get what we need, they waste time, and no one else has to die. Especially not my friends.”

No one spoke, but I thought I could hear Terrence thinking. He was a hammer and nail guy, predisposed to smashing through barriers. Could he use his head? Was he a one trick renegade?

“Your mechanic could supervise half of my team on the outside of the ship. Might be good practice for them. Always need more time in the void. Nothing like pure terror to sharpen skills,” Terrence said.

“I like this guy.” He was speaking my language.

“You would, Reaper Cain.” X-37 transferred Jelly’s wish list to all of our HUDs.

A crazy grin spread across my face. Fortunately, the banged-up Obsidian helmet prevented anyone who came close to me from seeing the expression. I felt like a kid about to get away with something.

“The Defenders will be quite disappointed. My analysis suggests they live to do one thing and rarely get the chance to show off,” X-37 said.

My LAI was right. I doubted there were many counter-boarding actions going on in the Oroth system. Or maybe I was wrong. Why else would they take such extreme measures?

I contacted Decima via comms.

“Have you ever boarded an Oroth ship?” I asked.

“All the time, when they come to Sethorn. That hasn’t happened since I was a girl, but it was great fun. They hate it when we storm their ships,” she said.

“I should have put you in charge of taking this thing down.”

“You should have.” Her answer came quickly but wasn’t full of attitude. “But honestly, it’s more difficult since they put their combat hulks on the command bridge. How are we dealing with that?”

“Terrence and his Archangels should be contacting you. We’re going to strip this ship like it’s a ground car parked in Night City on Boyer 5,” I said.

“No idea where that is, but this sounds like fun. Naaman might even stop brooding.” She went through a door or something, blocking our connection for a second. “He can’t stop thinking about our home.”

Now I felt like an asshole. I was the reason they were trapped this far from their home system. Both of them had trusted me to help their people. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Halek. Let’s just get this done. The sooner we escape the Oroth morons and the Darkness, the sooner we can return to where we belong. I gotta go. Naaman and I are on the salvage crew now, apparently.”

I thought about her dilemma as I watched the Defenders grow more and more nervous. After two hours, I really needed to hit the head. And get something to eat. And be gone from this stupid assault shuttle without it chasing us and causing mischief.

* * *

Backing out of the maintenance sublevel took longer than expected. Everyone was annoyed with me by the time I arrived in the assault bay where we’d boarded—especially Schipper.

“I thought you’d be blasted by now,” he said.

“We chose plan B.”

He looked at me like he’d never heard of such a thing. “Plan what? Wait, are you leaving?”

“Yes we are, David Schipper. See, I did remember your name. I’m that kind of guy.” I checked to make sure my friends were ready to go before dropping my cool-as-hell exit line. “Thanks for the parts.”

“We’ll come after you!” he shouted. “The Sovereignty of Oroth is invincible. They protect their people!”

“Come on, Hal. We’ve got places to be and stolen parts to retrofit,” Bug said.

My instinct was to give Schipper and the rest of the crew the finger, but I saluted instead.

“What has gotten into you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “That was an unnecessary taunt.”

“Your point being?” I counted the seconds until I could remove my helmet. Normally, it didn’t bother me, but crawling through tight spaces, especially for hours, reminded me of places I wanted to forget.

Bug gave me a high-five. Decima had a smile and a joke. Even Naaman seemed pleased by our latest victory. Which made me wonder what the prisoners had told him.

I waited until it was just Decima and me striding toward the armory. “Did the prisoners say anything?”

She shrugged, but there was a smile in the way she looked at me. “Good news for Sethorn. The Darkness swarm pulled back from their system. Naaman thinks it’s gathering strength on another planet, maybe Say’d in the Zakion system, but at least we have some time.”

“I haven’t forgotten what I owe you and your people,” I said.

“See that you don’t. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starved.”

* * *

“Bug has done exceptionally well with repairs. Could be his time scavenging on Dreadmax, and later Maglan when he was on his own,” Tom said. “Jelly needs a lot of work. Thanks for the salvage.”

“Are you asking me to stay?” Something about his tone was off, and he was avoiding eye contact.

“No, no, no! That won’t be necessary. We’ve got this,” Tom said.

Bug gave me a rough laugh. “Yeah, I think you’ve done enough.”

“I’m learning. You act like repairing a starship is easy.” I waited for X-37 to back me up, but my LAI remained silent.

“It actually is, Hal,” Tom said. “Just do what I ask and follow the ship manual when in doubt. Improvisation is best left to experts.”

“I see.” My HUD was suddenly full of helpful hints about ship repairs and things I could do to improve my usefulness as a mechanic. If this was X-37’s idea of support, it left a lot to be desired. I swiped away the information with a controlled eye movement.

“When we’re done with all the fighting and galaxy saving, I’d be happy to put you through a course, like I said.” Tom was about as earnest as I’d ever seen him.

“Okay, Tom. That sounds great. I’ll focus on shooting people and breaking things until then.”

Tom and Bug breathed a sigh of relief when I expected them to laugh at my joke.

“Very good, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said on the general comm.

Sleeping wasn’t as easy as it should have been. I was exhausted, body and soul, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Doctor Scheid, or General Scheid or whatever the hell he called himself now, was still out there and growing more powerful. X-37, Decima, and Naaman argued convincingly that the man started as an outsider and worked his way up through the political system of Oroth at an alarming rate. The rivalry between the Obsidians and the JFT was a good example. Sometimes it worked in my favor, but it was never a weakness I could count on. Sometimes it was exactly the opposite, like when I found entire JFT units sworn to Tempest Cain in some sort of Darkness cult.

My imagination wandered back to Maglan. For a second, I only had one arm to face the wilderness. That had been the life. I shouldn’t have taken it for granted. Images of the injured beast, its horned lion head proud and majestic in the moonlight, and its three cubs haunted me whenever I slept. I also thought of the three-legged fox and wondered who was going to give it a cybernetic limb.

“I haven’t given up on Maglan,” I said.

“I assume you are talking to me, Reaper Cain.” X-37 displayed several images of my favorite meadows near my estate. “As we are quite alone here. Please go into your quarters and get some sleep.”

“Are you going to put me down for a few hours?” I asked.

“If I must, Reaper Cain.”

“Keep me updated on Jelly’s progress. Notify me the moment we are close enough to the Maglan Fleet to hail Elise.”

“It would be remarkable if you slept that long. The Jellybird is limping through space like a wounded animal.”

My LAI’s description strengthened my memory of the horn covered lion-bear monster. She had held my gaze, her thoughts unknowable. Later, she and her brood had howled into the night to warn me of danger. Maybe that made us even, but I doubted that’s what this part of my past was about.

“My recommendation, Reaper Cain, is for three twelve-hour sleep sessions with two-hour breaks in between to intake nutrients and perform light exercise,” X-37 said.

“Sure. Whatever.” I took a shower, crawled into my bunk, and slept like the dead.

5

Sleep was great. Even just a few hours. Even if we were still being pursued by the Oroth fleet and the Darkness with almost the same ferocity they were directing at Elise and the Maglan fleet. The only difference there was that they were cautious, showing signs of a longer strategy.

I had a nightmare about… something, but didn’t remember. Which made me think it wasn’t so bad. Maybe just a normal dream. Rest and recovery was definitely underrated. I needed to get on board with the practice.

“I feel great, X.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Your body is still recovering from a traumatic surgery and adjusting to the second cybernetic arm James Henshaw added. I’ve made several notes in your daily task list. You must take care of yourself before you can take care of others,” my LAI said.

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Absolutely not, Reaper Cain.”

“Guilt trip?”

“I would never. What kind of self-respecting LAI would dupe his host into keeping himself alive just so said LAI could continue being brilliant.”

I laughed. “Sounds like you got a better nap than I did.”

“Please, Reaper Cain. Don’t make it ugly. I lack all of your organic weaknesses.” X-37 paused two seconds. “That sounded psychotic. Please accept my apologies.”

“I’ll let it slide. What’s on the agenda today?”

X-37 displayed a list of battle casualties and damaged Maglan ships. “Elise and her fleet are under sustained attack by Oroth forces recently arrived in-system. The Darkness is also attacking their stragglers but seems unwilling to commit. My analysis suggests the Darkness swarm is waiting for an opportunity to destroy both Maglan and Oroth fleets at once.”

“What?!”

“Calm yourself, Reaper Cain. I would have awoken you the moment there was something you could do about this situation.”

I worked on my left vambrace screen as I strode toward the bridge. Jelly was crowded with the Archangels using every available space to train. Stepping over them doing crunches or push-ups in the main hallway was commonplace.

Tactical readouts shifted on my viewer. Dots and lines changed slowly. X-37 overlaid translucent lines for possible to probable course changes. Nothing about the pending battle looked good. In places, there was already a hot action.

I reached the bridge. Tom, Bug, Naaman, and Terrence met me. Decima and Path arrived moments later, sweaty from sword training. We strode into Jelly’s cockpit until it was standing room only.

“X just told me Elise is in trouble,” I said, before jumping on a terminal and pulling up more complete readings than I could manage on the go.

“Slow down, Hal,” Tom said. “We’ve been monitoring the situation.”

I took a breath, held it, and then exhaled slowly, aware that Path was probably cringing at my poor technique. Tom and the others were right, and so was X. There wasn’t much I could do from here, not with a damaged smuggler ship and small mixed force of fighters.

That didn’t mean I liked it, and it sure as hell didn’t mean I wasn’t going to find a way to get to Elise.

“Are you ready to listen?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, Tom. I am. What’s with that tone? You’re not my dad.” For once, I wished I could pull back my words. He didn’t deserve that.

“Easy, Hal. I know you, and I can see you’re upset. All of us are. We need the smart Reaper right now, not the street fighter with a chip on his shoulder,” Tom said.

“My street fighter persona is more fun.” I read updates and studied fleet movements. The Darkness still looked like ships using recognizable formations and maneuvers—more or less. “We can slip through to Elise. But is that the right call?”

“He asked a question,” Bug said. “X, mark that down for posterity.”

“Done,” X-37 said on public comms.

“Whose side are you on, X? Never mind. I’m good. It’s just… Elise needs us, and I don’t want to let her down again.” I hesitated before going on. “What I’m asking is this. Does it help her and the rest of the Maglan fleet if we report for duty, or should we look for work out here? Is there something we can do to sabotage the Oroth fleet or the Darkness? Or anything?”

“Insufficient data,” X-37 said.

I waved one hand at the screen. “Are you kidding me?”

“Reaper Cain, the raw amount of information means nothing. Yes, I see that the Maglan fleet is being pressed from all sides and the Darkness is gathering mass. None of that points to a clear course of action for us.”

My LAI wasn’t wrong. None of my friends were jumping up and down with ideas, and I couldn’t think of anything useful. “Let’s slip past the Oroth forces and contact Elise. She’ll have something for us to do.”

“Excellent plan, Captain,” Jelly said. “I will set a course.”

* * *

“Approaching Maglan’s Hope,” Jelly announced.

“Thanks. You're the best.” I leaned back in my chair, cigar held loosely in one of my cybernetic hands. The aftereffects of our recent fight nagged me. Joint aches, muscle pain, and worry put me in a mood. I dimmed the lights and brooded for most of my watch.

“Action, action, action.” I played with a lighter but kept to the no-smoking-on-the-bridge rule for now. “And then we wait, and wait, and wait. This almost feels like a slip tunnel crossing.”

“The Kyroth system is larger than many others in this region of the void, Reaper Cain. And Jelly is making the best possible speed while Tom and Bug work,” X said.

“They were supposed to be sleeping.” How fair was it that they were on my ass all the time and not taking the same advice?

“Neither of them are recovering from major surgery and the complications of going into battle without healing first,” X-37 said. “Jelly will back me up on this. So will Tom and Bug. And Path.”

“Everyone is on your side, X. I get it. Aren’t you my LAI?”

“I am, Reaper Cain.”

I studied fleet movements, trying not to go to sleep. Up close, a void battle was a horrifying experience. At longer ranges, it was mostly dread and maneuvering for long-range advantage. Elise was a pro, apparently. She constantly frustrated the efforts of the Oroth fleet and the Darkness to catch her. Space was a big place, and it seemed like she was using all of it to her advantage.

“I have contact with Hope, the Maglan’s Hope’s AI,” Jelly advised. “She has informed General Elise of our efforts to join her fleet and will plan a rendezvous point.”

“Thanks, Jelly.” I flipped through video archives until I found the horned lion-bear beast from Maglan. During slow moments, I wondered if it was native to the planet or another import like the lizard horses or even the Hagg troopers of Say’d.

“X, what was it Naaman said about the Darkness abandoning Sethorn to rally elsewhere? Did Decima say they thought the problem retreated to another planet or system?”

“It does seem the Darkness has redirected their efforts to domination of Say’d, which required the swarm to make a slip tunnel crossing. That does not mean Sethorn is free from danger.” X-37 made the information processing sound we’d agreed was useful, then answered. “Little is known about Say’d other than historical references to a war with Oroth long before we arrived in this part of the galaxy. They have only two cities with space ports, and those are crude. My analysis suggests that is where General Scheid and his Oroth allies contacted the Hagg troopers who later attacked you on Maglan.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I said.

“Scheid pressed large groups of the humanoids into service for his assault on Maglan. There are many reasons for this tactic. History is full of examples,” X-37 said. “Generally it is to acquire cannon fodder, but he may also have been using them for their fearsome appearance or to prop up a novel enemy as a distraction. I don’t believe the Darkness swarm originally factored into his plans.”

“But why did he attack Maglan? How did he even know we were there?” I demanded. “Are you sure they left the Sethorn system?”

“I am working on that analysis and cannot locate any planet in the Sethorn system suitable as a fallback position,” X-37 said. “Which could point toward a number of possibilities. There could be a planetoid that is survivable with the correct gear. Perhaps there is a large ship or fleet that has gone undetected. Or maybe the Darkness forces in Sethorn have taken a slip tunnel to a world with poorer defenses, as I originally suggested.”

I grimaced. “The idea of the swarm-fleet in slip tunnels doesn’t fill me with warm fuzzies. Only whisky does that. Why can’t these things be slow and stupid?”

“If they are as mobile, or more so, than Maglan or Oroth fleets, they could have regrouped in Zakion, or here, or in a number of systems we have not explored.” My LAI posted documentation in my HUD, which I studied.

“Great.” I saw Scheid and his Obsidians as a separate problem from the Darkness, Tempest Cain and his impromptu cult notwithstanding. “The Darkness doesn’t seem to be working with Scheid now.”

“You are correct, Reaper Cain. They are very adversarial. Oroth ships are being attacked at the same rate as are Maglan. Let us hope it stays that way. My analysis predicts that our chances of survival drop to zero if Scheid was able to negotiate an alliance with the Darkness.”

“To the void with that. Tell me more about Say’d in the Zakion system,” I said, relying on intuition and dread. “Help me understand our growing list of freaking enemies.”

“That is the least likely of the possibilities I suggested,” X-37 said. “So of course it would be the one that interests you the most. Please do not light that cigar. Other members of the crew have asked for you to honor your agreement about not smoking on the bridge.”

I looked at the cigar in one hand and lighter in the other, only now aware of how close I had come to firing it up. “Sorry. Bad habit.”

“You are an encyclopedia of bad habits, Reaper Cain.”

“Don’t know what an en-cyclo-whatever-ia is, but thanks.” I reviewed my LAI’s documentation. His HUD displays were on point today. “The only thing I see is that maybe Scheid wants Maglan for the same reason we did—it’s still the most natural planet we've encountered.”

“Yes, it is very scenic to human eyes,” X-37 said. “I have no data on what the Darkness swarm finds appealing. Available information suggests they will, in fact, move on Maglan in force once they’ve dominated the Sethorn sector.”

I thought about the horned beast and its fur-ball cubs. The injured animal had a desperate look in her eye, like she would do anything to protect those she cared about. We were kindred souls, I thought.

“Are you well, Reaper Cain?”

“Sure. Might be time for a beer in the shower. How much longer is my shift?” I asked.

“One hour.”

“You’re killing me, X.”

“Reaper Cain, you set the watch schedule. Complaining at this juncture is bad form.”

“All right, all right. Whatever.” I went back to work, and when I couldn’t solve our immediate problems, I scanned data about what happened to Maglan during my ten year nap. Maybe it was the wrong call, but I wanted to go back.

I was… homesick.

Weird.

* * *

“Jelly is in much better condition than she should be, Reaper Cain. She is a smuggler, not an assault craft or any kind of warship,” X-37 said. “But we still lack the ability to maneuver at the speeds required to rejoin the Maglan fleet. Elise will need to send a rescue mission or leave us behind to negotiate with the Oroth Council.”

I snapped my lighter closed and stowed it in a hidden slot in my left arm. Tom saw me do it, though I had used my best sleight of hand to practice the technique. Negotiating the hard skin and regular clothing was a challenge but worth the effort. He was onto all my best tricks.

“X, help me plot a course that will make reaching us easier for Elise or one of her spec ops ships,” I said.

“She no longer uses that terminology, Reaper Cain.”

“Great. When did that happen?”

“When she thought the only remaining Reapers were clones under the control of General Scheid,” X-37 explained. “Her troops have their own vernacular, to say the least.”

“Captain, we have a more urgent problem,” Jelly said.

Tom and I turned to face the center of her control area that we normally associated with the Jellybird’s AI.

“What’s wrong, Jelly?”

“The JFT assault ships had support units. They’ve located us and are gaining on our position,” Jelly said. “My analysis of their engine burn and tactical formations suggests they are looking for payback.”

“We didn’t even kill all of the jerks,” I said.

“Would you like me to hail them?” Jelly asked.

I twirled a finger. “Go ahead.”

Time crawled. I stopped checking the display, convinced that my attention was slowing down the entire universe. If something didn’t happen soon, I would resort to checking battle updates again.

“They are refusing communications but state we will pay dearly for the stranding and possible murder of their friends. I took the liberty to suggest they spend their energy on rescue rather than revenge, and they reacted poorly,” Jelly said. “Please man the guns. We can’t expend much fuel to evade them if we hope to reach any part of the Maglan fleet.”

“Wake Bug up. I don’t think anyone else is as qualified.” I found my own manual turret and cursed at the size of it.

“My analysis suggests you will fit inside the control sphere,” X-37 said.

“That’s not it.” I wiggled my way into place. The turret didn’t protrude outside of the ship—which limited its field of fire. “It’s just that Jelly’s guns are wet noodles.”

“That is a woefully inadequate metaphor, Reaper Cain.”

I picked up the first incoming ship, checked its vector for a few seconds, then let out a short burst to check range and effect.

“I can’t tell if I hit anything,” I said.

“You did not, Reaper Cain. I will act as your combat controller. Jelly and Tom are busy steering the ship toward help. Our adversaries seem to want us separated from the Maglan fleet.” X paused. “I would log a complaint if I knew where to send it.”

“So would I, X. Every damn day.” I fired again, but not too much. Let them think Jelly didn’t have teeth until it was too late.

Bug scored a hit. “Got one.”

“Excellent work, Bug,” X-37 said. “Please repeat the strike for further damage. It will take several hits to cause the desired effect.”

I missed my target but was able to harass the fighter Bug had winged. Neither ship slowed.

“Captain, would you like me to send a request for assistance to the Maglan fleet?” Jelly asked.

I hesitated. We needed help, but that didn’t exactly make us special. “Send out the request. Give a full situation report if you can. Let Elise decide who to send.”

“Message away, Captain. Please keep up the good fight until help arrives,” Jelly said.

I trained the gun on moving targets with the help of Jelly and X-37. Between the three of us, we teamed up to score hits. If we’d had more powerful weapons, it would have made a real difference.

“Bug, let’s aim for the same attackers. Concentrate fire,” I said.

“I’ll mark them. Jelly and X are helping as well,” he said.

I waited for my HUD to light up with a target lock, saving energy and ammunition until then. Once the icon flashed red, I went to work.

6

A squadron of fighters and a light cruiser flashed into the middle of the battle. In reality, they had intersected our course, but it looked like they had stopped abruptly on our forward left flank or had been waiting. I monitored the images, ready to focus on whatever the next crisis might be. Too much attention to ship movements gave me a headache despite the simple, digitized shapes.

Maybe that was just me. I was pretty jacked up. And I was multitasking. “Whoever you are, thanks!” Keeping pressure on the JFT support fighters with the mini gun was a full time job.

“You’re welcome, Reaper,” Elise said. “But we didn’t come just for you. I’ve got a soft spot for Jelly.”

“Not complaining.” I cranked off several streams of death from the little gun, then powered down the moment Maglan fighters were between us and the enemy.

“I should have gathered up Jelly earlier, but I had my hands full,” Elise continued.

“You’re always late.” The baseless accusation fired her up exactly as I had expected and made me laugh.

“Me! Late? Listen, Reaper, when this is over, we’re going to talk.” Elise took a calming breath I actually heard over our private comms. “You have bigger problems than those really energetic JFT support fighters. What did you do to piss them off?”

“The usual.”

“He was actually trying to do the right thing by not killing everyone,” X-37 added in my defense.

“Oh really. I can’t wait to hear all about it. But here is the problem. An arm of the Darkness is swinging through this quadrant of the Kyroth system. You can’t see it yet.”

“Stupid dark Darkness,” I muttered, earning a surprised and annoyed chuckle from Elise.

“I have two special squadrons and the Nightmare inbound. Arrival two minutes,” she said.

News of the Nightmare perked me up. All of my old gear was stowed on the stealth carrier, and maybe, if a reborn last Reaper could get so lucky, I had left notes to myself. “Special squadrons mean special missions. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Silence.

“Don’t hold out on me, kid.”

“I know how you fly,” she began.

“Fantastic.”

“Get serious, Reaper. You fly better than decent. What I need is your aggressive style to give direction to my qualified pilots,” she said.

X-37 chimed in privately. “I believe that was a backhanded compliment, Reaper Cain.”

“Admit it, you think I’m the best. But we don’t need to hand out awards right now. I’m sure there will be loads of time for accolades later. If you’ve got a fighter for me, and I can help defend the Maglan fleet, I’m all in.” I unhooked from the tiny ship gun and ran to the loading bay, sealing my armor and helmet while I was still on the move.

“This is going to be a hot swap. I’d like to get Path and maybe Bug in a ship, but there won’t be time and unfortunately, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re at the top of my list for this thing. But don’t get a big head. If this hadn’t been happening in your neck of the star system, I wouldn’t have gone out of my way just to include you.”

I couldn’t resist. “Okay, if that’s what you want to tell yourself. I don’t need special attention. The work is my reward.”

“Could you please stop? I don’t want to vomit in my helmet. Super unpleasant even if I have my vacuum set to maximum,” she said. “Chatty Kathy time is over. Sending the ship your way. It will seal to your maintenance airlock for you to climb in. Figure out how to do it or ask X-37 to hold your hand. Hastings, out.”

“Did you get all that, X?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Jelly has advised that there is a freshly built Maglan Void Cat waiting for you,” X-37 said.

“Sounds menacing. I can’t wait. Not really sure what a cat is, and before you show me a picture…”

“We have covered this many times,” X-37 said. “They are mythological hunters of old Earth, very fierce. They came back in a big way when Jace Hughes and his people began to rebuild on Earth.”

For a few seconds, I wished I’d stayed when invited. Now I was out here getting my ass kicked. But I also had to be honest. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Slipping through the airlock into the Void Cat was surprisingly easy. “It’s like I just came home to dinner.”

“Processing,” X-37 said. “I’ve temporarily logged this as a nonsensical metaphor but gather that you are pleased with this piece of equipment.”

“Nailed it in one.” I ran my hands over a simple and elegant control panel, then slipped my arms into double joystick controls. It wasn’t enough for me to just hold them. They enveloped my hands all the way to my elbows. When everything locked together, I felt like I was in a new set of armor. “They stole some ideas from the Union micro fighters.”

“That was my assessment as well. Would you like for me to send a compliment to Elise or save it for later?”

“Later, X. This is on-the-job training. We better get after it.” I focused on the start-up routines and familiarization messages. Elise must have thought I could do this, or she wouldn’t have asked me to be part of a critical mission. Minutes later, I felt like I was in a bigger, faster version of the micro fighters Elise and I had used to go after Vice Admiral Nebs back in the day.

“Separating from the Jellybird now.” I waited for an all-clear icon, then steered away. New vectors appeared on my screen, and I followed them to join into the strike team.

“Welcome, Reaper. My name is Wing Commander Reginald Dane. General Elise assures me that you are a good fit for this mission. Let me run it down for you.” The voice paused as several objectives flashed into my Void Cat HUD. “You will lead a penetration into this subquadrant, then activate the Camis Shae dispersion pod. I’m putting you in front because I don’t know how well you follow. My pilots are experts. Don’t get them killed. There will be consequences if you fail.”

“Thanks, Commander.” I considered saying more, offering some kind of assurances, but he didn’t seem to be the type to give a shit about my response. The man was a by-the-book officer, not normally the kind I gelled with. In this instance, I was more than willing to give him some slack due to the ridiculously accelerated time frame.

“Good morning, Reaper,” said a young man. “I am Commander Artis. My companion is Commander Light Jumper. Sorry for the rushed courtship, but we aren’t far out from the action. For the record, we both grew up on Reaper stories. Working this closely with the general has given us some context on how to filter the myth from the legend.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. X-37 bailed me out.

“It is exceedingly good to meet you, gentlemen,” my LAI said. “I am X-37, limited artificial intelligence for Halek Cain, often referred to as the last Reaper. Should you desire, I can list four hundred and thirty-eight other names he has been called during his storied career.”

“Oh, we are definitely interested,” Artis said. “But it will have to wait.”

“Let’s do this, guys.” I finally edged back into the conversation. Once we were moving toward our objective, I chastised X privately. “What the hell was that? Did you add a new subroutine about making me look like a chump?”

“Is that not what they mean to ice-break?” X-37 asked.

“What am I gonna do with you?” I waggled the wings, then swooped right, then left to get a feel for the ship. Void flight could be brutal. Ships and equipment minimized trauma to the pilots but never completely. I had a thought. “Are you guys wearing Archangel gear inside those fighters?”

“Absolutely, Reaper. We are part of General Elise’s personal guard and strike force. Ready for action is our motto,” Light Jumper said.

“It needs work, but maybe we can talk about that later when you two buy me a drink for getting the most enemy kills,” I said. The Maglan ships were different from the micro-fighters Archangels originally used—definitely more versatile, though harder to cram into a tiny ship where space was a premium.

Artis responded immediately. “It’s not that kind of mission. Review the deployment protocol.”

I did, and he was right. The objective was to detonate a dispersion device in three equilateral locations, peppering the thickest mass of Darkness ships at once. The brief was unclear on what that would do exactly, other than allow for the Maglan fleet to escape the sector in good order.

Not getting pinned between the Oroth forces and the Darkness was the key takeaway from our current objective.

“The controls are straightforward,” I said. “My LAI is running simulations. The rest of the mission is little more than flying and staying together.”

“He gets it,” Commander Artis said.

Light Jumper acknowledged via HUD.

I refreshed our approach vector, adjusted course, then accelerated to stay on pace with the rest of the attack. Pre-battle emotions swelled. My hands felt hot, the back of my neck cold, and I was buzzing with energy.

A wall of darkness blacked out the stars behind it. From this vantage point, it didn’t appear to be moving.

“My sensors are giving nothing back,” I said. “Is that normal?”

Artis answered. “It is, and you might guess that it's a lie. Beyond that wall is the closest thing to hell you've ever seen.”

“I've seen a lot.” Neither of my fellow pilots acknowledged. This wasn't the time to compare stories. Their increased seriousness told me plenty about what we were facing. “There is a notation beside our flight plan. Everything beyond this point”—I indicated a place on our star chart—“is marked variable. I assume that means we’re supposed to wing it.”

“Interesting way to put it, but yeah, that's the long and short of it,” Light Jumper said.

“You been into one of these clouds before?” I asked.

“Briefly. Ours was a debris field,” Artis said. “But others have met ships that shoot back, or so they claim. There is never video of what happens inside the Darkness.”

I watched the shape change and again thought there was a distinct pattern in the movements. “All right, I'm changing our course slightly. There are two anomalies, here, and here. We'll punch through at that point, and then deal with what comes next.”

Neither man argued. We found the position and accelerated.

“We will penetrate the enemy screen well ahead of the rest of the Maglan attack wings,” X-37 said.

“That's a risk, but don't you see what I see?”

“Yes, Reaper Cain. There is definitely something in that sub quadrant. My analysis suggests it is moving, and more so, it's adjusting to our course,” X-37 said.

I turned a final time, fighting the gravity forces at play on the ship. My armor constricted to keep my blood pressure within acceptable ranges. I gritted my teeth and cursed with my comms off as we struck the dark anomaly.

Alerts flashed in every part of the cockpit. I saw stars from the collision and realized I'd been banged around inside of my helmet, if slightly. I'd had the armor long enough to have it fitted to my physique.

“Artis, Light Jumper, did you make it through?” A wave of unexpected loneliness crashed down on me like a falling building. My body ached with it, and I wanted to turn around and race back toward the Maglan fleet as fast as I could, but I didn't.

“We're here,” Artis said. “Jumper lost comms but his ship has power, and his vitals are good.”

Debris streamed toward us. I swerved right and left, then dropped down under an asteroid. When I came up on the other side, three blurs that reminded me of void fighters raced over my cockpit shield. Energy crackled from their weapons, tangling my ship in chain lightning. For a second, it seemed like they would pull me after them, tearing my ship apart.

Artis cursed, but I couldn't understand his words. I checked Light Jumper's vitals and saw no change, but I imagined he was equally distressed because I was screaming bloody murder with the best of them.

Three more ship blurs fell on us from above, breaking us with jagged energy beams. By the time I searched for them, another three had attacked us from below, just out of normal camera view.

I wheeled hard to the left and dropped. Artis and Light Jumper hurried to catch up, moving as one unit to follow my lead. I leveled off, faked to the right, then twisted left and down again. The inconsistent shapes overshot our position.

“Do not look directly at them, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I'm detecting several visual abnormalities I believe are meant to confuse the human eye. Stand by while I analyze.”

“Artis, Jumper, don't look at them directly. Use your peripheral vision, and trust your instruments,” I said.

Artis sounded like he was trying to hold his breath when he answered. “Good advice.”

“Now you tell me,” Light Jumper said. “I already puked.”

“But on the bright side, you have comms again.” I led us further away from our attackers but found the debris thicker in this area as well.

“Gee, thanks. I'm not sure which is worse, the conversation or the smell.”

Artis laughed grimly at his friend’s wit.

X-37 filtered my combat screen. Images rushed toward us, no longer attempting to appear as random debris. This time I looked directly into the jaws of a nightmare.

7

“Do not deviate from this course,” X-37 warned.

My head throbbed and my vision blurred, but I fought it back. The beast of Maglan roared in my face. Logically, I knew there couldn't be flying spittle or a spray of blood coming from its teeth. Hallucinations weren't unknown territory for me. I'd suffered enough head trauma and enemy psyops to be well acquainted with the misery. But that didn't make this any less convincing.

“Hold your course, Reaper Cain. And stop looking where I told you not to look,” X-37 said. “I cannot determine exactly what you are imagining, but it is an illusion. If it makes you feel better, your hypothesis about alien ships is correct. These are not so different from others we have faced.”

I wanted to respond but couldn't. Fireballs flew directly at me but never blew my ship apart. I weaved around the flaming meteors, always pushing toward my objective. The only thing I knew was that Elise had told me to reach a certain point and then detonate the Camis Shae dispersion charge. I was something called a Reaper, but the term held no meaning. All my concentration was on reaching my objective and taking action.

“We’re taking damage!” Commander Artis said.

Light Jumper screamed incoherently.

I wrenched my attention back to my tactical readout and saw they were holding formation a bit loosely, but they were still with me. That meant something, but I didn't care.

“Reaper Cain,” X-37 said in a deceptively level tone of voice. “I have told you three times to detonate the device. Please respond.”

I flipped away the safety and pulled the trigger. Micro-rockets flew away from my ship in every direction and exploded. A drug-trippy array of colors filled my vision. Halfway through a turn, I realized I was pulling far too many G's to remain conscious for long. X-37 yelled at me, again. My LAI was getting on my nerves. Every alert in my cockpit flashed or beeped.

I went into a barrel roll, then leveled out. Artis and Light Jumper followed but looked more like tumbling whiskey glasses than void fighters. Shadows leapt into my brain, then shrank away. Nothing changed when I closed my eyes.

“You must trust your instruments,” X-37 said. “I'll help you, but I can't do anything for the other two pilots.”

I had nothing useful to say so I kept my mouth shut. The idea of barking sarcasm almost made me sick, which definitely meant I was off my game. The noise in my cockpit relented as I veered away from the battle. Every Maglan ship had been called away at the conclusion of the mission. All three dispersion charges had been detonated. My hands, arms, and shoulders trembled uncontrollably. The rest of my body soon followed.

“We are heading in,” Artis said. “Thanks, Reaper…”

I heard the man but couldn't look away from the malformed ships following us. The images blinked in and out, changed colors, and even disappeared from moment to moment. At their current speed, they would overtake the Jellybird. Worse, they were looking for payback against not just my friends, but all of humanity.

“Are you combat ready?” I asked.

“We are ready, but our ships are trashed, and we don't have any ammunition. I don't know what I was shooting at, but I definitely lit up the space around me on that last run,” Light Jumper said.

They talked, but I was already reviewing X-37's assessment and knew the condition of their ships better than they did. If they didn't get repairs soon, neither would survive.

“Get back to the carrier. I need to handle some business here,” I said, then did a scan of Jelly as well.

“She cannot survive another battle,” X-37 said.

“Can you contact Elise?”

“Not with comms,” X-37 said. “Do you wish to send her a coded message?”

I thought about it and decided silence was the better option. She would take care of my friends in the Jellybird no matter what happened here. I steered toward our pursuers.

“X, can you filter out the illusions?” I massaged the back of my neck to relieve a ruthless headache.

“Doubtful, but I will closely monitor your biometrics and shout at you if you start to act goofy,” X-37 said. “And before you ask, I have standardized the terms goofy, goofball, and spaz to a strict set of parameters useful as a diagnostic tool.”

My LAI droned on, obviously trying to distract me from the nightmare swarming toward me. The ships looked like monsters in the void, but I saw the truth of them from their movements. Was it possible they were living creatures?

I didn't care. Rockets and kinetic rounds were deadly even if they looked like fireballs and demons. The lightning, at least, was real to some extent. This seemed to be a close range weapon they used whenever they dashed by my fighter. The strafing attack wreaked havoc on my controls, but I adjusted.

I spiraled away from the fight, then looped back to try and get behind them. The maneuver failed, but it kept them honest. A few went after the rest of the retreating Void Cats. I was the only one left.

“The dispersion field is expanding,” X-37 said. “You will be caught inside of its effective range.”

“And then what happens?” I asked.

My LAI didn't answer immediately. Several beeps sounded in my ear as he processed information. “Unknown. I have reviewed a portion of the science behind the material and what Elise and her generals hope to accomplish by dispersing it into the enemy swarm, but I cannot break it down into understandable data points at this time.”

“Are you calling me dumb?” The joke fell flat.

“Please check your tactical screen.” X-37's response was more useful than an explanation of the science.

The Darkness withdrew before my eyes. Bizarrely shaped ships gathered into groups of seventeen. X-37 counted them as they raced toward a retreating sphere of shadow. Stars popped back into view as the field grew smaller and farther away.

I turned toward Jelly but couldn't find her. In her place were several Maglan cruisers forming a perimeter around Maglan's Hope. Elise had come in person. The rest of the fleet couldn’t be far behind. I hoped that meant the Nightmare would be here soon with my original gear, and more of my friends who helped me defeat Z1 when we first found the Maglan system so many years ago. Time dragged. X-37 kept barking at me to stop sleeping on the job.

“Whatever, X. You’re not the boss of me.” I stared at my hands, not sure where I was or how I’d gotten here. Was I in a void fighter?

“X may not be, Reaper, but I am,” Elise said. “Unless you want out of the Maglan fleet even before you officially rejoin us.”

I stared at the screen.

“You look rough,” she said. “I’m sending one of my recovery ships to pull you in—but you will stay in quarantine. Why the hell didn’t you come in with the others?”

“The shadows were still attacking,” I said. “Someone had to cover the withdrawal. I was last man. Where are Jelly and the others?”

“Jelly docked on Maglan’s Hope with other damaged vessels. We’ll take good care of her.” Elise paused. “We’ll talk more once we get you into a sick bay.”

“Why do I have to be in quarantine?” I knew the answer but couldn’t think clearly.

“Dispersion technology we took from Camis Shae is an experimental technology for us. All we know is that it repels the Darkness and is dangerous for us as well. You’re going to teach us what it does to humans,” she said.

“No one else has been exposed? I thought you went to the planet?”

“Your ship was hit with concentrated doses. Others died. None of my scientists can explain why you’re alive,” she said. “I told them you were too stubborn to be poisoned, but they thought I was joking.”

I removed my helmet and rubbed my eyes. “My head hurts like that time on Gronic.”

Elise leaned forward to study my appearance through the holo viewer. “You’re wearing Sethorn hard skin”

“Yeah. It’s great. I’m about to take a serious nap.”

“Not until your ship has been recovered and you are quarantined in a medical support vessel.” Elise pointed at me through the holo viewer. “That’s an order, Hal.”

“I never was good with authority.”

“Well get good with it,” she said. “I’m not letting you die of stupidity.”

* * *

Dreamless sleep was a luxury I thought I could get used to. My body felt human when I woke up in the sick bay. White walls, floors, and ceilings gave it that sterile, not-so-comfortable look. Doctors and security guards watched me through video screens.

I sat up, then froze. The room spun like I was hungover, something I hadn't experienced since I was a teenager, not like this. Queasiness filled my stomach. Weakness crept through my arms and legs, including my cybernetics.

“X, what happened?”

My LAI answered in his most soothing tone. “You have been quarantined in a medical ship. The delightful individuals you see on the other side of the holo screen are wary of contacting you directly. Three of their peers braved the observation room in this ship and are now in their own quarantine vessels. On the upside, this gives the Maglan more test subjects to study, which should result in more robust data. The only person to talk to you directly without becoming infected was Elise, which I believe is due to the Union experiments she endured as a young woman.”

I didn’t know as much as I wanted to about the Lex-tech program. My fellow Reapers had been talking about rumors before I fell from grace, but none of us had known squat. Back then, we had a vested interest in knowing every shady thing the Union was up to. And if we never dug up the dirt, that meant it was the biggest secret the Union ever kept.

“Well, call somebody to give me a checkup. I think I'm recovered.” Tubes were connected to several points of my body, always near the junction between cybernetics and flesh. One of the doctors came on the intercom the moment I started to disconnect things.

“One moment, Mr. Cain. General Elise has not authorized removal of your life support,” a man said from a remote location. “You have no idea how difficult it was to attach IV tubes through the Sethorn tech.”

“Who are you?” I traced a fluid line back to an IV bag before disconnecting it. There was no need to be rash. Tearing out IV bags made a mess, a lesson I’d learned more than once, unfortunately. My friends might have just a little bit of a point about my impulsive nature.

“Please don't do that,” he said. “My name is Dr. Sampson Evanovich. I am the head of the Camis Shae recovery program. My team and I are treating you from Maglan’s Hope using bots and limited AIs.”

“Good for you, and relax. I’m being careful.” I stopped what I was doing, mostly because I wasn't sure what to disconnect next. Some of the lines resembled IV fluid tubes but branched off to connect to my cybernetics as well.

“Is James Henshaw around?” I asked.

“He is in a conference with General Elise,” Evanovich said. “How are you feeling? Is there anything we can get you that doesn't involve your rather hasty departure?”

“I'm not staying here,” I stated.

A familiar face came into camera view. The Chief Squad Leader of Wallach, Isiah Locke, crossed his arms, then smiled at me like we both knew I was trouble. “Good to see you again, Reaper. Now don't give me a problem. I could take a shuttle to your quarantined med ship before you knew what hit you.”

“Locke?” I leaned forward in my bed, then rubbed my eyes. Every movement dragged tubes and sensors across the mattress. “Can you get me out of this stuff?”

Locke laughed good-naturedly. “I've already sent a message to Elise. Just hang tight. I'll send for food if you're hungry.”

“The last thing I’m worried about is my stomach’s happiness.” I again traced each of the tubes and wires, determined to remove them without causing too much damage. “Jelly’s in trouble. The Darkness is worse than you realize. I saw… something. Just get Henshaw.”

Pain flashed through the base of my skull like I hadn’t felt since the days after Dreadmax. Henshaw had put me to rights then, and I hoped he was ready to repair my cybernetics now. Something had gone wrong with my nerve-ware, and it couldn’t be allowed to happen the next time I faced the swarm.

“Just hold on, Cain. Elise is on her way with Henshaw and his team,” Locke said. “Don’t make me get rough.”

I paused, looked through the window, and reminded myself there was a reason he was the CSL of Wallach. The post went to the best all-around soldier of their society. He had a lot of years on him, but other than his weathered skin and new scars, the man looked as tough as ever. And he had a team of fully armored soldiers backing him up. I assumed they were stationed in a nearby ship and were ready to board this one to defend it—or deal with an uncooperative patient. Quarantine protocols complicated everything.

“Everyone’s against me, X,” I muttered.

“Untrue, Reaper Cain. They have based their plan to deal with you on your prior behavior,” X-37 said. “These people are your friends. Relax. Go with the flow. Think about your happy place or something.”

“The General is here, Cain,” Locke said. “She’s informed us that she will make the shuttle crossing to see you. Try not to get her sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Have you looked at yourself?” His unusually visible compassion was my first warning.

I searched around my bed, carefully moving all the medical gear on a roller. “That’s going to be really hard with no reflective surfaces.”

He bowed his head for a second, then made eye contact through the view screen. “Well, you look better than you did, if that is a consolation.”

“Whatever.”

“Cain, I couldn’t see you at all when they first cut you from your ship and pulled you out. The Void Cat you flew into combat is melted on the outside.”

“Too bad. I liked that thing.”

The airlock opened. Elise stepped in, closed it, then removed her helmet before facing me. “I’ll get you another one.”

“Your visor is reflective,” I said.

“It is, Hal. But I brought you a viewer. My scientists believe the effect is temporary.”

I wasn’t in the mood to be patronized. “Based on what evidence?”

“Because half of my face looked like you after I was exposed. I’ve had my own stint in a quarantine pod.” She handed me a tablet.

“I thought it didn’t affect you,” I said, remembering what the doctor had claimed.

“It didn’t kill me.” Her tone suggested there was more to the explanation, but she ended with finality only Elise could manage.

I held it for a minute, thought about everything that had happened, then activated the device, stared at my face, and forgot how to speak.

“Part of what you’re seeing is the hard skin. It protected you but also amplified certain aspects of the Camis Shae dispersion tech contamination,” she said.

A stranger stared at me—void black skin, a blood red left iris, and a diamond bright left pupil seized my attention, but there were other details. Half of me faded out of view.

That was hard to miss.

Or keep calm about. My heart raced until it hurt. Lights danced in my vision.

I spoke in a near whisper. “Do you have my stealth cloak on the Nightmare?”

Elise nodded. “I’ll have Locke bring it. There is a dumbwaiter to put it through.”

I crossed to the other side of the room. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“When have I ever let you tell me what to do,” she said.

“Godsdammit, I’m serious!”

“My security team wouldn’t have allowed me in here if my science team wasn’t satisfied the Camis Shae couldn’t kill me. How do you think we got the original samples off the planet?”

“Of course you brought it back yourself.” I leaned against the wall and forgot about the viewer in my hand. “You should have a Reaper for stuff like that.”

“Well, maybe now I do. You’re back on my team whether either of us likes it or not.”

8

I thought for a long time about my visit with Elise. There wasn't much else to do. Eighteen hours felt like three weeks. By the time I hit twenty-four hours of bed rest, I was ready to tear the room apart. Doctor Evanovich coached me through the removal of my IV bags. James Henshaw sent me a list of instructions for removing the sensors from my mechanical augmentations.

But he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, talk to me directly.

My appearance was normalizing, as Elise had promised. Not vanishing was now one of my favorite things. Who knew? Not everything was whiskey and cigars, however. Every now and then, right when I started to look away from the digital mirror, it seemed like part of me was missing.

The effect wasn’t like the stealth cloak I’d used so many times. I couldn’t be sure others saw that part of me was invisible. This was a mind game I couldn’t win. Insanity was always a real danger for someone like me, but this felt personal, like the universe was screwing with my head.

She let me keep the viewing pad, essentially a digital mirror that I could make notes on and read articles X-37 sent me. Were they restricting my comms with the rest of the fleet, and even the Jellybird?

Absolutely, and X-37 assured me there wasn't a thing he could do about it. During some of my darker moments, I thought my LAI might be in cahoots with Elise and the others in some misguided attempt to protect me from myself. All I really knew was that the Maglan fleet was now outdistancing both the Darkness swarm and the Oroth fleet.

I refused to sleep. The doctors didn't understand nightmares. I wasn't saying they hadn't seen their share of trials in this war, but none of them wanted to compare their stories with mine. At the end of the day, I was skeptical of their diagnostic efforts. How effective was their remote care?

“I'm tired of being in this room, X,” I said.

“It would pass much more quickly if you allowed me to put you to sleep,” X-37 said. “Your recovery would progress more rapidly as well. As you recall, your body is suffering from more than being caught in the dispersion field.”

“I heal fast.”

“Which I factored into all of my medical calculations. Can you at least pretend to sleep? Close your eyes. Think soothing thoughts. Who knows, maybe something magical will happen,” X-37 said.

“I'm not falling for that again.” Outside my room, the Archangel guards changed. They talked to the medical bots for a while, then debriefed Locke on a holo display I couldn’t hear. Eventually, they took their seats on stools against the far wall, armor gleaming like the definition of overkill.

Maybe their presence made sense to someone in charge of fleet security. The most advanced armor in the Maglan fleet was also the most resistant to biohazards and other toxins. The dispersion technology from Camis Shae was complicated. It relied on a poorly understood mineral with a bewildering array of radioactive properties including similarities to dark matter, something I knew nothing about outside of Tom’s books.

I wanted to care but had run out of godsdammits to give. There were at least two wars in progress, and I needed to do my part. Reapers didn’t sit on the bench.

“Can you open the airlock Elise came through for her visit? It goes outside to a ship, am I right?” I asked.

“There is no ship waiting for you, Reaper Cain. Please discontinue this line of thinking.” X-37 posted a cease and desist icon in my HUD for good measure.

I responded with my middle finger, then started pacing. At least I was free of the IV bags. “I can go a pretty good distance in one breath.”

“The hard skin will protect you, but it lacks insulation and other protective qualities of civilian or combat EVA equipment. Other than stopping the damaging effects of radiation and giving you some minor, and very temporary, protection from the cold, it is useless for an escape attempt,” X-37 said.

“You're right, but I'm still going to try it.”

“Not if I refuse to open the airlock.” My LAI went silent for a second, which I assumed was him snitching me out to Elise or whoever the kid left in charge.

I crossed to the door, made sure nobody was paying attention to me, and pretended to be doing one of the physical rehab exercises I'd been prescribed. Instead, I put my palm flat against the security panel of the airlock. Then, in a moment of inspiration, I put my second Reaper hand on it as well.

Nearly invisible wires snaked from the palms of my cybernetic hands into the control mechanism. “You know I can’t do this without you.”

“I am refusing to help you on principle,” X-37 said.

“You don't have any principles.”

“That is debatable, but what I do have are programmed directives. Allowing you to kill yourself is not something I am obligated to do no matter how belligerent you become,” X said.

“I thought you'd say something like that.” Once I started getting feedback from the inside of the locking mechanism, I stopped talking to my LAI. Concentration came easy, especially when I was this motivated.

Elise was keeping me here for my own good. She also had me in a news blackout, which meant something was going on and I needed to be part of it. If they wanted to treat me like a child or a prisoner, then I would act like one. Children never followed rules, and prisoners always attempted to escape.

The door slid open. X-37 said nothing. It was just like my digital friend to sulk. The Archangels popped up from their seats, and the medical bots scrambled, but there wasn't much they could do at this point.

Smiling, I moved into the airlock and shut the door behind me. The security chief ordered me to stand down, and I ignored him. X-37 missed the opportunity to join in the abuse. For a second, I was worried. Losing contact with my LAI was never a good thing. I wasn’t in the mood to go it alone.

Hopefully this was just the silent treatment. I had endured it before and come out okay.

The second door opened, and I stepped out into the freezing void. I moved quickly. The moment I had my bearings, I began crawling toward the most likely place to find a shuttle.

A pair of armored feet stepped in front of me. Standing wasn't really an option. Without the proper EVA gear, I had to hold onto the hull or disappear into the void forever.

A second set of feet joined the first. Two familiar Archangels stared down at me. I could tell by the way they carried themselves that these weren’t the same guards who had been watching me through the observation window.

“Pay up,” Sykes said. “I told you he would try this. You thought this was just extra practice in our void gear.”

“Come on,” Billiam said. “I can't pay you if I never, ever win. How am I supposed to have any money? And you complained just as much as I did about this guard duty. I mean, who guards the outside of a spaceship?”

“Would either of you two mind giving me a lift? I'm trying to get to the Jellybird,” I said.

Sykes laughed. “This guy is shameless. Give him a lift? Seriously? Like we would cram him into a shuttle and just fly him wherever he wants to go.”

“Don't make this ugly, Reaper. We are in full Archangel gear,” Billiam added. “Now isn't the best time to test that hard skin, and you have to be running out of air. I mean, how long can you hold your breath?”

He was right, and I thought he was talking more than was necessary just to mess with me. Super uncool.

Retreating back to the airlock was a low moment, but at least X-37 didn't chastise me too much.

I gasped for air once I was in my cell again. “Thanks for nothing, X.”

“I tried to dissuade you.” My LAI sounded a lot smugger than seemed reasonable.

* * *

I rolled out of bed, washed my face, and warmed up with calisthenics. “I feel good, X. I’m not even lying.”

“Glad to hear it, Reaper Cain. Shall I petition Elise for your release?” X-37 asked. “Again. This will be the fourth time today.”

“Why not. Thanks for asking.” I pulled out the reading device the medical staff allowed me to keep and checked the sanitized daily brief. For someone accustomed to the highest security clearances, reading this was almost an insult, but it was all I had. There had been no major engagements, and the Maglan fleet was still pulling away slightly. It looked like there could be a slip tunnel escape in our future.

Maybe.

If everything went perfectly.

And the universe was in the mood for bad jokes at our expense.

“X, can you at least tell me if Jelly and the others are okay?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Tom and the others are making good progress on repairs, but I am still blocked from communications with them or anyone beyond your medical team,” X-37 said.

“Why is that, X? What am I going to do, infect them remotely? No one is on this ship except for the Archangels.”

“Your doctors want you to sleep. Their hypothesis is that you might grow bored or, here's an idea, relaxed enough to get some quality rest,” X-37 said. “Since social time isn't actually a survival requirement, I'm not obligated to fight them on this particular proscription.”

“You don't know much about being human, do you?”

“How is this different, from the survival standpoint, than your time in Dreadmax. You were there for almost two years and came out of it strong and ready to take on a nearly impossible mission,” X-37 said.

“This is exactly like being in prison. That's why I'm trying to get out.” Sometimes explaining things to my LAI was impossible. “No whiskey, cigars, conversation, or real information… I guess I’ll exercise.”

“Reaper Cain, you have been assigned bed rest,” X-37 said.

“Don’t care.” I started with squats, then progressed to alternating lunges until lactic acid and boredom set in. Workout pain just wasn’t fun when it seemed pointless. Push-ups and wall handstands entertained me for a time, but there was no denying my situation was as impossible as it was strange.

“Hal,” Path said from the window. “What are you doing?”

“Venting frustration.” I paced the medical bay. “You are actually on the ship? How did you swing that?”

“I didn’t ask permission. X-37 requested my help. You are the worst patient in the Maglan fleet, and he believes I may have influence on your decisions,” Path said.

"I can’t be the worst.”

“Probably in the entire Sovereignty of Oroth as well,” he said. “Not that it matters.”

I sat on the edge of my bed. “Thanks for the visit. It’s easy to get stir crazy, especially with so much happening that I can’t control.”

“We are simply running from our various enemies. Nothing you can do will have much of an effect. Allowing your body to heal might provide future benefits,” Path said. “Would you like to meditate?”

I thought about it. “Sure, Path. But I need to understand why I’m in a communication blackout.”

The sword saint bowed his head for a few long seconds before giving me an earnest look. “Can X-37 ensure we’re speaking in private?”

“How about it, X?” I asked.

“One moment.” My LAI worked his magic. “There is no one listening. The communication channel between the medical bay and your quarantine cell is recorded, but that will only matter if someone reviews it later. I believe the transcripts are automated but can’t be sure.”

“Will that work, Path?” I asked.

“The consequences will come later. I can live with that if you can,” he said.

I motioned for him to continue.

“Some believe Elise is stalling.”

“Why would she do that?” Everything I’d seen pointed toward her being a living legend to the Maglan people. If she was losing confidence because of me, I’d have to make a public exit and stay away from her—and I wasn’t sure I could do that.

“Some of her most popular captains are making noise in the forums—questioning her fitness to command,” Path said.

“That’s a good way to get Reaper punched.” I snapped the statement short before I started swearing.

Path raised one hand to indicate a point. “And that is the reason you are not allowed to participate in these message boards and news pieces.”

I took a breath. Held it. Let it out. “Okay. Point taken. Give me the rest, since I’m safely tucked away in purgatory.” In my heart, I didn’t think we could win without the right people on the team, and two parts of that formula were me and Elise. Now was the time for professionalism—and not the murderous kind, the teamwork kind.

Path continued as calmly as ever. “Scheid sent several teams—Obsidians and JFT task forces—to reach the surface of Camis Shae. He wants the anti-darkness material used in the dispersion technology. Many call it the Darkness Killer, or DK. The substance may also be part of the antidote for people who are exposed. Elise has been the only person to travel to the surface and return unscathed.” Path paused. “Elise says we can’t risk Scheid gaining technology from the planet. Most of her leaders agree that’s not a serious threat since almost no one can deploy to the populated areas of Camis Shae and return without serious side effects.”

“Wait, the planet is populated? Tell me the rest. What kind of people live there? Can we make an alliance? Do we have anything to barter?” I asked.

“Calm yourself, Hal. Only Elise has those answers. I am confident she would have explored all the options you suggested.” Path sat on a desk with his legs crossed. “We should meditate. It will facilitate healing. Then I must resign myself to my own shuttle for evaluation. Fortunately, solitude is much easier for me.”

I examined myself in the viewer, something I only did once a day. The hard skin looked like a beetle’s carapace, shiny and black. As armor, the sight was intimidating. But I didn’t know where the alien material stopped and I started. Sometimes I felt stronger than ever. Other times I dreamed about events in my past better forgotten.

“You’re a shadow, Hal,” Path said. “With red veins leading into your cybernetics and pinpricks of light for eyes.”

“What’s happening to me?” I asked, scared for the first time.

“I will guide you. When you are relaxed, when you learn to rest, the healing will come,” Path said. “You are what you are. Fear not.”

Sitting with my legs crossed, I meditated under duress. Because Path was a master, I fell into a calm state that made everything much clearer. My thoughts returned again to the beast of Maglan and the lush forest around my damaged estate.

In my mind there was a dreamlike place without thoughts or worry. I saw it but could not reach it. Maybe it was because of the modification to the meditative pose Path had taught me—crossed legs, upright posture, and an unlit cigar jutting from my teeth.

There was a purpose to all of this—a reason for my frustrating isolation. The beast of Maglan knew the answers. Too bad the creature couldn’t speak and was on a planet I might never see again.

Memories came and went. Old friends, successful and unsuccessful missions, fights I had won and lost—the journey was neither good nor bad now.

The medical room returned, but pain and fatigue lingered someplace else.

What had I spent the most time thinking about?

The beast.

Why?

Because there was something left undone on Maglan. I couldn’t go there, not yet. Something told me there was unfinished business on Camis Shae as well, and I was the only person who could help Elise deal with it.

But the clock was ticking for me, and I didn’t know why.

9

My next visitor was Amii Novasdaughter, though she was smart enough to contact me via comms. X-37 projected her image in my HUD. The effect was a ghostly figure I didn’t actually mind talking to. It was almost like she was standing in the room with me.

“You look different, Cain,” she said.

“You can see me?”

“X-37 is using ship cameras to complete the circuit. I wish I had an LAI.” She crossed her arms, looked me up and down, and seemed concerned.

“Just make sure to get the most updated version possible if you go that route. Get one with a decent personality algorithm,” I said. “Trust me.”

“We’ve covered this, Reaper Cain. My attitude is based on yours, but with more processing power and better data analysis. Don’t blame me for lame jokes when you are my source material.”

I shrugged as if this made my point. Novasdaughter laughed politely.

“Confirm a rumor for me,” I said.

Her expression hardened.

“Is Elise going to blockade the planet to deny Scheid access to the anti-Darkness tech, and is it worth it?” I asked. “I’m betting not everyone likes the idea.”

“Where did you hear that?” A second later she consulted her vambrace. Her face reddened. “Path visited you? Who authorized that?”

“Don’t answer that, Reaper Cain,” X-37 warned.

“Don’t look at me,” I said. “If I could authorize anything it would be my liberation from this unlawful detention. Admit it, if there is anyone better suited for a mission to the surface of Camis Shae, I’d be amazed. Tell Elise I’m ready for whatever.”

“No one wants to abandon this system, or any other, to Scheid and the Oroth forces, but facts are facts. This isn’t the time to slug it out with two powerful enemies,” Novasdaughter said. “Camis Shae remains a strategic point in this campaign and always will. That doesn’t mean we’re going near the place again. The Darkness forces can’t descend to the surface, and thus cannot truly control it, but have done their best to blockade it from us. We don’t have the ships to drive them away and handle Scheid. Maybe the best thing would be for them to destroy each other while we regroup in another system.”

“You don’t agree with Elise,” I said. “And you came here thinking to get my support.”

“Careful, Reaper. I owe you, but not that much. My duty is my honor,” she said. “There is a time to fight tooth and nail, and a time to rally and prepare to wage war another day.”

“Here’s an idea. Tell me what she still wants from the planet, get me a ship, and turn me loose to handle things. If I succeed, Elise won’t need to waste time or exposure. If I fail, she’ll see there is no choice but to retreat through a slip tunnel.”

Novasdaughter laughed. “Do you actually believe what you’re shoveling? General Elise wouldn’t leave you on that hellhole to die, especially in your condition.”

“What does she want from the planet?” I was close to a real answer.

Novasdaughter’s image stepped nearer to me. “There is a cure for this…” She waved toward the contamination filling my hard skin. “She makes all the right arguments to benefit our coalition, but those of us who know her well understand it is all about saving the Last Reaper.”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “Did she think to ask me what I wanted? Maybe I could find my own cure? This is the type of thing I was made for.”

“Not exactly, Reaper Cain. Assassination and enforcement are your intended specialty. Infiltration and theft are byproducts of that life,” X-37 said. “But we take your meaning.”

Novasdaughter turned her back toward me, stepped away, and bowed her head in thought.

“You are very close to a favorable decision,” X-37 said privately. “The question is, should you put her in this position?”

“Of what, going against Elise?” I asked.

“Exactly, Reaper Cain.”

I cursed under my breath. “Remind me never to be helpless again. None of this would be an issue if I had my own ship, which I did, before the Darkness mission.”

“Your Archangel armor is set up for… for the previous Reaper.” Novasdaughter hesitated.

A tingle went up my spine, cueing me to her body language like she was someone I was trying to interrogate. The sensation didn’t give me warm, happy feelings but was always useful. Was the woman lying or just avoiding a topic she didn’t want to talk about? “What else? You’re holding something back.”

She stopped pacing and faced me like the woman I had come to know since capturing her microfighter years ago. “I think there is another reason they’re blockading the planet, something dangerous. If we trespass there again, things will escalate. And don’t tell me they can’t. You of all people know when something can go from bad to worse.”

“Oh, that is interesting, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately. “I believe I understand Amii Novasdaughter’s line of thinking.”

“Yeah, me too, X.” If she was right, and Elise was wrong, we could be provoking an already dangerous enemy. “You think the Darkness has a stronger connection to the place. You think they’re doing more than just blocking us from mining the element that will kill them.”

“I think it’s their home,” she said. “I just can’t figure out what they did to poison it so they can’t go to the surface, which means I can’t convince anyone of my theory. All I know is that we need to leave this system as soon as possible. There are big enough problems for us to face in the Sovereignty of Oroth systems, and our goal is to return to Maglan and live in peace.”

I heard her, but my mind had moved on. The answer was so clear I didn’t understand how she and everyone else had missed it. “They can’t go home because the other half of their people, or whatever, won’t let them. They’re a nation divided. Which means we might be able to make an alliance and win.”

She stared like I had hit her over the head with a starship.

“Elise saw the surface. Did anyone else?” I asked.

“No. Everyone who disembarked from the assault shuttle died or is still in quarantine fighting for their lives.” Novasdaughter started pacing again.

I worked on my theory but decided to save it for a private conversation with X-37 once we had more information.

“I just realized something. The man who lost his arm saving my mother is dead. You’re the same, but not the same.”

I didn’t respond. She either accepted me as Halek Cain or she didn’t. At this point, I was beyond caring much. This was a conversation for another day.

“You seem the same, so maybe that is enough. I could have your gear transferred, then maybe find you a ship capable of reaching the surface of Camis Shae. But it would need to be a disposable ship, which isn’t something we have lying around. Every lost vessel hurts the fleet.”

“Why couldn’t it be quarantined afterward then reintegrated into the fleet?” I asked.

“I am more worried about your track record of breaking things. Maybe we could use the stealth… no, that’s crazy,” she said, then jerked back from the sudden appearance of Naaman and Decima.

“I’m not broadcasting them,” X-37 said. “They’ve hacked through this ship’s comms to reach you.”

Novasdaughter stared at the newcomers in surprise, then looked at me like it was my fault. “Keep what we said in confidence.”

And with that, she was gone.

“Amii Novasdaughter has signed off,” X-37 said.

“Thanks, X.” I addressed Decima and Naaman. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You understand we can’t come in person,” Decima said. Behind her, Naaman glared at me from under his blood-red hood.

“Yeah, that seems to be the case with everyone.” I didn’t bring up Path’s in-person visit and hoped that Novasdaughter forgot about it as well. With my luck, I got the sword saint in some serious trouble. Not that I forced him to visit.

“The hard skin should have protected you,” Naaman said. “You have the most advanced version available to our people. Only Jag has that model. It seems he uses it better than you do.”

I wasn’t sure how they expected me to do more than wear it, but I had other things on my mind. “Can you break me out of here?”

“That’s not why we’re contacting you,” Decima said. “Our time with your people is running short. We must soon abandon this quest and return to our home world to defend it.”

I could feel their dissatisfaction, see it in their eyes. They’d come this far with me and had a right to expect my help. “If I can get out of here, I have something I have to do on the planet, and then I’ll honor my promise to help your people.”

“Which planet, Camis Shae?” Decima asked. “That place is unreachable and dangerous.”

I looked at her cousin and thought he knew more than he was saying. If I had time, I would have consulted X-37, but now seemed the time to question him while his defenses were down. He was angry and bitter, which might make him prone to mistakes. “You’ve been to the surface of that planet, haven’t you, Naaman?”

He stared directly at me, not denying my words.

“That’s why you know the hard skin should work against the contamination,” I said.

Decima looked at her cousin like this was news to her. At the same time, she didn’t seem surprised. Naaman was an outlaw and a rogue among her people, and her relationship with him was hot and cold at best. All things being equal, I suspected she would rather be working with Jag and a team of Sethorn commandos.

“What do you want me to say?” Naaman asked.

“I don’t know.” I moved toward their holographic images. “That depends on why you came. I doubt it was to say goodbye.”

Neither of them spoke, but I knew there was a purpose to their visit. Decima had led this encounter, but now she drew back. Naaman took the lead.

“There is only one good reason to be in this system,” he said. “I had hoped that if you couldn’t help us on our home world, you might help me with the mission I have failed at several times. But that is not to be. We received communication from the elders. I am not to pursue my investigation on the planet. And now that I see how poorly you reacted to exposure, even with the most advanced hard skin we have ever manufactured, I doubt you are the right person for the mission in any case.”

“Yeah, that’s great. You came to tell me someone must go to Camis Shae, but it’s not you, and it’s definitely not me. Thanks for nothing,” I said but was already wondering about other solutions. Would my stolen Obsidian armor protect me? Would Archangel gear? What about a land rover or other vehicle?

Both of my visitors bristled with anger. Neither of them found the words to respond.

“You should work on your diplomatic skills, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

We all knew that wasn’t my strong suit, so I didn’t bother arguing. “There’s another option.”

This time, Decima gave me a dangerous smile. Her face was still flushed with anger, and the look in her eyes made me want to step back and rethink my attitude. “That’s why we came. The elders ordered us home, but we have something to do first with or without their approval. How would they know if we took the scenic route?”

“I have to try one more time, and I need your help,” Naaman said. “Even if you’re not the right one. Even if you are susceptible to the forces of the planet through hard skin.”

“We have secured a shuttle,” Decima said. “I will pilot the ship while you and my cousin search for the antidote on the surface. None of us can be truly free from this threat until we find it. What use is a weapon to fight off the Darkness if it kills us right alongside their swarm?”

“I’ll be honest, that’s not where I thought you were going with this conversation,” I said. “If you can break me out of this prison and get me some decent gear, I’m all in. I nearly secured my old Archangel armor and other equipment. That would’ve been a game changer. Hard skin under the most advanced Maglan armor available would work. I’d bet my life on it.”

“We can’t help you with equipment held by Maglan forces.” Naaman shared a serious look with Decima, then faced me in earnest. “We are on our way. Be ready. You may be more of an outlaw than I am when this is over. I hope you are ready to leave your people behind, as I did.”

I stared at the wall after they were gone, rolling his words over and over again in my mind. There wasn’t much I was afraid of in this galaxy. I had proven my willingness to pay any price. But leaving Elise and the others when I had only just been reunited with them was too much.

“Your biometrics indicate an internal struggle, Reaper Cain.”

“I didn’t tell them my theory about the planet and the Darkness.”

“A wise decision,” X said. “The theory has not been tested. Haste makes errors.”

“Haste makes waste,” I corrected without thinking about it.

“Well, yes, of course. But I fail to see how that pertains to my statement. Either way, Reaper Cain, this is an opportunity you cannot pass up. Just try not to get them killed.”

“It’s so good to have an LAI to remind me of these things. Now help me plan the mission. We don’t have much to go on, but I want to be as ready as possible.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I will endeavor to help you get your head straight.”

10

Two days later, I had almost given up on Decima and Naaman. They’d either overestimated their ability to secure a ship and liberate me, or had left to find their own way home. X-37 dissuaded me from dismantling the medical disposal chute that led to another part of the ship. The trick to a successful escape always lay in the ninety-nine attempts that came before the real breakout. I was refining my latest strategy when I received a message.

“Elise for the huge pain in the butt, Cain,” came a familiar voice.

Even though I was mad at her and frustrated at her refusal to include me in her plans, it was good to hear her voice. At the same time, I was relieved she wasn’t here looking at me face-to-face. The swirling darkness trapped between me and the hard skin grew stranger each day. X-37 monitored my biometrics constantly and assured me that removing the ultra-thin, full-body Sethorn armor would cause a cascade of medical problems. The remote doctors agreed.

“Hey, is that you, kid? Glad you found some time to check on the invalid.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Her snappy comeback reminded me of our first encounter. She had an attitude that wouldn’t quit, kind of like a certain Reaper I knew.

“Have you come to pardon me? Maybe smack me with a miracle cure and some new cigars to celebrate?” I quit working on my most recent lame-ass attempt to obtain freedom, putting the panel back on the wall with subtlety I normally reserved for pickpocketing.

“Not exactly. But I did catch two people conspiring to help you with the jailbreak.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Snitches got stitches, and that wasn’t my style.

“You wouldn’t, would you. So loyal. Fortunately for me and the fleet I’m trying to protect, I managed to have a long talk with Decima and Naaman. The question I have for you is, can I trust them to keep a secret?” Elise asked.

“Probably depends on the secret.” How did she expect me to answer for other people?

“You exhaust me, Reaper. I debriefed Novasdaughter as well, and we came to an agreement. She has her own actions to answer for, but that’s between me and her. Meanwhile, your Sethorn friends were bringing a shuttle so damaged that we were almost ready to scrap it for parts. Maybe it would’ve gotten you to the planet,” she said. “But I have a better ship for this type of mission.”

“Something with stealth capabilities, I hope.” I had almost said the Jellybird, but I knew the little starship was still being repaired.

“You might say that. We have improved the Nightmare’s abilities. She’s the most powerful vessel in the sector, and the sneakiest, though not the largest. You shouldn’t be surprised that she’s still my number one. Necron actually asked where you were and if there was anything he could do to help. The grouchy old ship AI has come a long way since our first encounter. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Necron was worried about you.”

“Yeah, good for him,” I said, concentrating on her every word. “Ship AIs are notoriously sentimental.”

Elise rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. Our connection faltered for a moment but came back strong. She paced like an admiral—clasping her hands behind her back and standing tall. “I had already decided how much I was willing to risk to recover the antidote. I’d even considered bringing you, despite my best judgment. Once Novasdaughter abandoned her arguments for leaving the system immediately, she convinced me my chances of a successful raid on Camis Shae were slightly better if I dragged you along. But that requires the ultimate secrecy. I had hoped to use you for more traditional roles in my fleet.”

“You think the people you’re responsible for leading will criticize you for taking a personal interest in this mission,” I said.

“They will, and they will be justified. But we’re still doing it. In the short term, this helps you, and I owe you something as much as I hate to admit it. Friendship if nothing else. But in the long term, we must have this technology,” she said. “So I’m going, you’re coming with me, and a real expert in that hard skin that should have protected you against the properties of the Camis Shae minerals will be accompanying us.”

“Naaman?” I asked.

“He’s going, but he is not the expert. The man has a wealth of knowledge about places I desperately want to explore when this is all over,” Elise said. “Don’t worry about the team for now. Just be ready when I arrive. Two of your Archangel guards will need to come with us. All of my people are sworn to secrecy and are trustworthy. But we will have to cause an electronics blackout on your quarantined ship to conceal this. I don’t feel good about it.”

“Rookie,” I said.

She laughed. “For once, I don’t want to be the best at something. Breaking rules is one thing, betraying the trust of my people is another. Don’t let me down, Reaper. We’re doing this in secret, and we can’t screw it up.”

“Story of my life, kid.” I started warming up, stretching, and checking myself head to toe to see if there was anything I could do to make myself look a little less screwed up. Hopefully, once I buckled into my Archangel gear, no one would be able to see my face. By the time this was over, I was going to be the strangest cyborg ever, and I would totally suck at parties.

“I’m glad we had this little talk,” Elise said. “Be ready to give this your all. We mustn’t fail.”

* * *

The lights went out less than an hour later. Elise had been close during our little conversation, which was fine with me. Stir crazy didn’t begin to describe where I was at—especially since I felt stronger than ever. I couldn’t sit still. The DK exposure hadn’t made me weaker, just stranger.

Or that was what I could see. Who knew how deep the changes went?

Archangels Billiam Schoelwer and Zachary Sykes entered, helmet lights illuminating swaths of my medical prison.

Billiam found me, then gave a big double thumbs-up. “Reaper, you ready to kick names and take—” Billiam said.

Sykes pushed his palm toward Billiam. “Stop, in the name of all that is sacred. No more jokes.”

“I worked on that one for a long time,” Billiam complained.

I strode toward them. “Where’s my gear?”

“No questions. Boss says you’ll have it when we get on the shuttle, which is happening in about thirty-eight seconds,” Sykes said.

Billiam went to the airlock and typed in a code from memory. “Ready.”

Sykes guided me by the arm. “I’ve got the principal.”

“All right, let’s do this.” Billiam opened the first door.

We moved inside, sealed the chamber, and waited for the exterior door to cycle. This time when it opened, it was into another airlock rather than the void. The three of us hurried inside and closed the combat shuttle’s seal. Everything about the ship said Nightmare—Union styling, recent upgrades, and a bundle of goodies just for yours truly.

“Instructions say for you to try it on, then we’ll tune the gear once we’re on the landing craft. It will remain latched to the exterior of the carrier just like the microfighters,” Billiam said. “We won’t be boarding the Nightmare for obvious safety reasons. See, we do have a plan. All the benefits of the baddest warship in the sector with none of the risks. Except being super vulnerable if there were a major attack. Am I rambling?”

“Yeah, totally. And you don’t have to tell me twice. The last thing I want to do is poison the crew.” Inside the crate I found more than my Archangel gear. A pair of rifles, the Reaper mask, my slightly damaged stealth cloak, and a pistol that had belonged to my old friend Grady. Elise knew I never carried that one on missions, but here it was. Maybe it was time to do things differently.

I sorted through a backpack, then pulled out what had to be there, a box of Maglan Continentals, the brand that had competed with mine before I went lights out and Maglan was invaded.

“General Elise said no one could find any of yours or Starbrands,” Billiam said.

“These are better anyway.” I stowed them back in my kit. “Tell anyone I said that and you’ll be missing a tongue.”

“Wow, Reaper. General Elise wasn’t exaggerating. A normal businessperson would threaten legal action. You went straight to homicidal maniac.” Billiam smiled like this was the best conversation he’d ever had. The kid talked smack, but he was loving this.

Hopefully I wouldn’t let him down. The last thing I found in the pack was the Foxy Stardust bobblehead. “Someone went to the Jellybird.”

“Not my department,” Billiam said.

“Of course not. Where is my D3D? Love these fancy new HDKs but need my personal favorites for this mission,” I said, then went through all of the equipment bundles again. Wrapped in a field blanket and supplemental survival gear, I found a cord tied with one of Path’s glowing hair rings.

“Now we’re talking.” Inside the bundle, I found a sword, D3D rifle, and several loaded magazines.

“There is a note,” X-37 said, “written in infrared ink.”

“Read it to me, X.”

X-37’s voice imitated Path. “Own your mind, Halek Cain. Stay on your path. This blade belonged to my father. I expect you will bring it back.”

“Thanks, X. That wasn’t weird at all.”

“Heed the message, Reaper Cain. Path is a loyal asset. He would be less likely to help you in the future if you lose this family heirloom,” X-37 said.

“Friend, X. Not asset.”

“My analysis suggests this is the same thing.” X paused. “But I take your point. Please accept my apologies, Reaper Cain.”

The Archangel armor went on easily, though it was a little loose in the midsection and tight around my arms. “This can’t be right.”

“You are in much better shape than the last time you wore this armor,” X-37 broadcast with no concern for my embarrassment. “Would you like to know your then-and-now measurements? I can also display your best fifty meter dash speeds, max deadlift, and—”

“I’m fine, X. These guys don’t care about that stuff,” I said.

“Oh, we care. Tell us more fat Reaper stories,” Sykes said.

“I was never fat!”

“Okay,” they said, then nodded knowingly to each other. “That was poor form on our part. We just assumed that a younger, biologically original Reaper would be in better shape than that old warhorse.”

“Watch who you’re calling old, kid,” I said.

They laughed like I’d given them a compliment—which I probably had since everyone knew that was what the last Reaper called General Elise, and they idolized her.

I completed my set-up with minutes to spare. The transfer shuttle docked with the planetary assault shuttle. Doors moved too slowly. My heart pounded in my chest.

“What the hell is going on with me?” I subvocalized to X-37.

“You are afraid to fail Elise, or that she will turn you away when she realizes the extent of the changes you have endured,” X-37 said.

I darkened my visor, then went through the other side of the airlock ship. “For the record, X, feeling this self-conscious really sucks.”

Elise, Naaman, Decima, and Jag waited in full mission regalia. The Sethorn commando caught me off guard for several reasons. When we first met, his gear had been second-hand junk covered in spray paint and field repairs. What he wore now made him look a match for an Archangel but with less bulk. He had his helmet off, and I could see he was wearing hard skin that gave him the look of quiet starlight. Maybe that wasn’t an actual term, but that was what came to mind.

A poet, I was not.

Elise looked me over, smiling mischievously. The kid I knew was definitely here for this mission. “Take off your helmet, Reaper. Let’s get a look at you.”

I hesitated.

“I already saw you through video and holo. My science team keeps me updated. Just take off your Archangel helmet,” she said. “I know you’re all jacked up. What’s new?”

“Fine. Be difficult. Love that compassion you’ve developed as the leader of Maglan.” I unlatched the visor, then the brace at the back of my neck, and pulled it off.

No one said a word for several seconds, and no one seemed worried about exposure to whatever I had. Jag offered his hand, warrior to warrior. I shook it. He moved around me, checking my hard skin and the DK contamination contained beneath the surface.

“It’s good you didn’t take it off,” he said. “The contaminants would have sloughed off your skin and a good part of your muscle. Be careful when opening the hard skin for any reason, including first aid.” Naaman explained what the radioactive component of DK is, and why it isn’t always dangerous. “The element has more in common with X-37 than you would suspect.”

“Wait, what?” Elise and I asked at the same time.

“I haven’t been to the planet, but I have studied my cousin’s exploits, and the mission brief from General Elise. You don’t get to my level on Sethorn without mastering technology, and part of that skill set is analysis. Alien artifacts are their own field of study, and also something I have a natural talent for.”

“Yeah, right. That’s exactly how I thought Sethorn commandos spent their spare time. How exactly did you get here?” I asked.

“The fight for Sethorn has come to a standstill. We must retake the initiative, and to do that, we need allies, or at least for our people to come home to aid in the defense. I volunteered to bring the proclamation demanding Decima and Naaman return to our home world. Other champions are gathering the rest of our seekers throughout the galaxy,” he said. “If this mission fails, I will be banished right alongside them.”

“We’re a bunch of renegades,” I muttered. “The dumb kind who never get paid.”

Elise laughed loudest, probably because she was the only one to really understand the reference.

“The point is this: we have the best team possible. Naaman has been to the planet several times. Jag is an expert in Sethorn technology. And you’re… useful somehow,” Elise said.

“Don’t hold back just to spare my ego.” I gave her a hug she didn’t see coming.

She laughed in surprise, but by the time I put her down, she was serious. “There are people down there, Reaper.”

“Could they be allies? Are they enemies, or subjects of the Darkness swarm out to conquer the galaxy?” I asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m not saying they’re friendly, only that they are as lost as we once were.”

11

I wasn’t allowed to fly the planetary assault shuttle when it separated from the Nightmare. The support room I occupied was essentially part of the cockpit, making the combined area like a mini bridge on a larger ship. The pilot and copilot kept to their business, completely ignoring my best jokes and even the unlit cigar I held ready for action. Jag sat near me, sharing his knowledge of hard skin and other technology he thought I would need for this mission.

“Do you remember the beast of Maglan?” I asked as I cleaned my rifle.

Jag wiped down his own weapon. “That creature and its cubs you were hunting when we were following you?”

The copilot turned in his seat and leaned toward us. “You know we have an armory for that, right?”

“The Archangels are hogging the place,” I said.

The man looked like he wanted to argue but slowly conceded the point. “That checks out. Those guys have too much to say and too many weapons to clean.”

Jag looked at me with a smile after the copilot turned back to his work. “Is that possible?”

“Not in my world.” I came to a tricky piece that was hard to manipulate while still holding the cigar between two fingers, so I put the Maglan Continental in my teeth. This felt strange but not unpleasant while wearing the hard skin. Not dwelling on how the transparent armor dealt with my mouth opening and closing was definitely the way to go. “I think about the beast a lot.”

“Yeah?”

I shouldn’t have been disappointed. Why would the creature mean as much to this Sethorn warrior, even if we seemed to be kindred spirits in many ways?

My cybernetic hands worked smoothly. “What will you do when your home world is safe?”

He put away the weapon he was working on and pulled out a handgun, then disassembled it in three quick moves. His expression was thoughtful. The man was putting some effort into his answer. “I can learn to make pipes. Then, when you return to your own home, you can grow your tobacco that seems to smoke well no matter how you do it. We can have a trade coalition between our systems. I can send my children to foster with you to learn stealth.”

“Significant compliment detected,” X-37 said privately.

I chuckled. Both Jag’s and X-37’s comments caught me off guard. “You’re going to be old before that happens.”

“One mission at a time,” he said.

The copilot faced us again. “We’ve located an escape pod of some sort. I believe it belongs to an Oroth citizen’s ship, the Dream of Many Suns. General Elise said I could run things past you before contacting her.”

I moved into the cockpit area and took the vacant navigator’s seat. “Show it to me.”

The image slowly clarified. The range wasn’t great for a slip tunnel capable ship, but that wasn’t what we were traveling in. Planetary assault shuttles were suited for one thing, with barely enough range to get them to and from their destination. Rescue operations weren’t their focus.

“I detect life signs,” the pilot said. “Weak, but present. Could this be a friend of yours?”

“An enemy, more like, but hard to say without knowing who is inside.” I ran through options. When I turned to Jag, I could practically see we were on the same page.

“Your gear is ready, but I would like to test it. How about you and me board one luxury life raft and clear it of threats, then see if there is someone deserving of rescue,” he said.

I made a fist, barely able to contain my excitement. After so much time in recovery and quarantine, I was eager for action. “Let’s clear it with Elise first.”

“General Elise,” the pilot corrected.

“Right. General Elise.” I led the way back to the support room, then asked X-37 to contact the general.

“Stand by,” X said.

“Reaper, I thought you knew I liked to meditate before an impossible mission,” she said without allowing her image to be transmitted.

“You mean eating cookies and falling asleep? When did you start using sugar-binge nap meditation? Not that I’m criticizing. Huge fan, in fact.”

“Whatever. Give me the scoop.”

“We found an escape pod from the Dream of Many Suns,” I said.

She clicked her teeth. “That’s the ship you came on. What’s your plan?”

“Search it and then decide what to do with it.” I could feel her answer before she said it, or I was just making a lot of assumptions about how well we knew each other. Jumping to conclusions was starting to be a thing with me—dangerous, even when I was right.

“I’m coming with you,” she said. “You’re with Jag?”

“Yeah.”

“I can read you like a book, Reaper.”

“Maybe that will keep us alive. Or maybe it’s just annoying,” I said. “Don’t make us wait all day, kid.”

* * *

Elise arrived in her well-worn Archangel gear. That said something about her personality. As a general, she could and should have the newest version of everything. She chose what worked best despite its appearance. Some of the weapons and tools were new, but I didn’t have time to geek out over her equipment.

“That was quick, kid,” I said.

She only smiled.

“The two of you are good friends,” Jag observed.

“Yeah, I tried to get rid of him, but he just keeps coming back,” she said. “The kid comment doesn’t bother me like it used to. Just go easy on it when I’m trying to lead.”

“Gotcha, General Elise,” I said. “That’s a mouthful.”

Elise reviewed the data on the escape craft. “There’s a life sign, but not much of one. We may be rescuing someone just to bury them in space. I am curious to see what kind of tech we might salvage. Once we clear it, we’ll have to mark it for recovery and continue on our mission. And we need to come up with a cover story. This is a secret raid, remember? We can’t be out gallivanting around the system.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult, especially if it turns out to be nothing,” I said.

“Thanks for jinxing us, Reaper.” Elise led the way to the airlock and waited for her technicians to prep us and our exit.

“We pulled it to our airlock, so you can just step through. I have my team ready to send it away if you come back quickly and give us the signal,” Sergeant Terrence said.

Elise gave him a thumbs-up, and we stepped into the airlock. Moments later it was sealed. A short time after that, the door to the escape pod opened. Like most things with Oroth citizens, the craft was larger than it needed to be. With the exception of slip tunnel travel, the escape shuttle could pass for a first rate inter-system transport.

“Call the order,” Elise said.

“Me, then you, then Jag. Spread out, assess the first compartment, then decide how to stack up for the other two sections of this thing,” I said.

Elise nodded agreement. Jag, once he guessed what the gesture meant, did the same. We swept through the ship like we’d been practicing room clearing for months. I’d forgotten how good Elise was, and Jag was definitely a pro. More than once I’d thought he might be something like my old friend Locke, the Chief Squad Leader of Wallach—a unique rank reserved for the best warrior in their society. The Sethorn military was based on a clan system, with family obligations more prominent than other military organizations—so this special rank probably meant even more to them.

A pod occupied the last room. Inside it was Tank, my oversized Reaper brother who had either been left behind to be tortured by Scheid, or had stayed behind to collect his reward for betraying me.

“You know this guy?” Elise said. “Looks like an HC clone, the kind that kept trying to assassinate me and your family before we left Maglan with the fleet. But holy crap, does he live at the all-you-can-eat buffet?”

“I know him,” I said.

“Do you trust him?”

Jag also waited for my answer.

“Depends on what he says when we wake him up.” My first reaction was not to risk it. He was dangerous, even if there were three of us in full armor. But it didn’t take long to realize I had to know the truth. Was he friend or foe? Had he betrayed us? Was he my brother?

Elise moved closed, then lowered her voice. “Talk to me, Reaper.”

“We encountered him on Heto 5. The guy was pulling minor heists and running scams,” I explained.

“How minor?” Elise asked.

“There were a lot of wanted pictures of him, which meant there were a lot of wanted pictures of me when I was attempting to keep a low profile.”

Elise snorted. “You’re so good at keeping a low profile.”

“I was, before I met you.”

Elise thought for a second. “So, you went to Heto 5. He’d been running amok and made your life difficult. How am I doing so far?”

“It was a hassle but nothing we weren’t able to handle. When the chips were down, we got stuck together, and he had our backs,” I said. “The guy was trying to break from Scheid. Apparently, he didn’t like being a test subject.”

“Who does?” Elise said. “We’ll leave him sedated in his escape pod. Recover him on the way back.”

“My gut tells me this thing doesn’t have a lot of hours left. Tank wouldn’t be sitting around waiting for rescue unless he had no choice.” I found a terminal and checked the power reserves.

X-37 beat me to it. “There is virtually no atmosphere left in this escape craft. Either it was improperly prepared, or something went wrong during its launch. I suspect the latter of the two explanations.”

“Fine. We’ll revive him and lock him up in the assault shuttle,” Elise said. “I’m not happy about having a rogue Reaper as a liability.”

“Neither am I.”

Jag and Elise stood back as I revived the big Reaper. The man seemed groggy at first but came alert seconds later. He lurched forward, but I held him down with one of my augmented hands.

“Settle down, Tank. I don’t have time for a clown show, so don’t act a fool,” I said.

His nostrils flared, and his chest heaved as he stared at me. He gripped the side of his pod, still ready to scramble out of it and fight if he had to. “Halek Cain, the Bio. Just my luck.”

“Don’t be choosy,” I said.

“Trust me, I’m not. Getting left behind sucks, especially when Scheid’s Obsidians and a citizen of Oroth are involved.” He shrank back, a haunted look in his eyes.

I leaned closer. His skin had a pallor I didn’t like, and his eyes were strange.

“X, what do DK dispersion tech contamination symptoms look like?” I asked.

“You seem to be observing them now,” X-37 said. “I am cross-referencing what little data I have on the illness. Your problem looks considerably different due to your cybernetics and the hard skin.”

Elise stepped closer, gazing through her Archangel visor at the oversized Reaper. “He’s a dead man. We should have left him in his pod.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Tank said. “Now, if you don’t mind, can you give me a lift to the planet? I need to find an antidote. For the good of humanity, of course.”

“Bullshit,” Elise said.

He laughed. “You got me. I’m just looking after number one.”

“Give me the rest of it, Tank,” I said.

He huffed, disgust evident on his face, then relented. “I guess none of it matters. But here’s the dirt. Scheid and his top scientists boarded shortly after you left. Brought some heavy hitters, top Obsidians. Then had a chat with his patsy, Ion Dawn.”

I waited.

Tank lost patience with his own story and jumped ahead. “They wanted to test something, and I was expendable. Plus I was a liability because of my attitude. Scheid doesn’t tolerate disloyalty. Next thing you know, I’m dying. He boots me from the ship and says if I can reach Camis Shae, I might find the antidote.”

“So he can take it from you,” I guessed.

“Whatever. He could try. But it was never a real possibility.” Tank stared beyond us, smoldering anger in his eyes. “I can still hear him laughing as they shut me in the life pod.”

Elise and I crossed our arms at the same time. I considered changing my posture but didn’t want to look like I’d noticed the simultaneous gesture. Reaper and General stared down at the man who didn’t look like he gave a godsdamn.

“You understand that I must have you restrained,” Elise said.

He shrugged. “Anyplace is better than here. Can we get to it? I’m getting light-headed.”

Elise called Billiam and Sykes, then ordered them to secure Tank in a storage area.

“That’s going to be a tight fit for a big guy like this,” Sykes said.

“He’ll get over it.” She waved her hand impatiently. “That will have to serve as quarantine. This mission is already going sideways.”

“Why wouldn’t it.” Before I knew it, Tank was in Archangel custody.

“Thanks for that, Reaper. Super helpful,” Elise said.

12

Decima took the navigator’s place in the cockpit, but I thought she had her eye on the pilot’s seat. The assault craft cut down into the atmosphere, parting the upper clouds and racing toward the surface. Turbulence bounced the ship side to side and up and down. Lightning flickered through towers of mist but left other parts of the sky untouched. I had been on worse rides, but not many.

“We should see Zalis soon,” Naaman said, pointing over Decima’s shoulder at a digital map.

“The metropolis you told me about?” she asked.

He motioned to the screen as a sprawling city came into view. Clouds obscured the surface, including much of the city, but I was surprised at how large the place was.

“I thought the atmosphere was toxic to anyone living here,” I said.

“Yes, but not everywhere and not always. A cataclysmic event put the planet in this condition. I never learned what that event was,” Naaman said.

Elise and Jag kept silent, preferring to watch and learn for now. The Archangels speculated loudly, but they were in the deployment compartment—the largest part of the assault craft.

“Where will we find the antidote?” I asked.

Naaman pulled up images of coastal ruins, mountain bunkers, and other structures of a crumbling civilization. “None of these had what I came for. The city was my next logical step, but events conspired to drive me away from my quest for a time.”

“Like what?” I had several guesses but wanted to hear him explain it.

“The first recall,” Jag said. “We couldn’t find him, but he was able to check in with his confederates. Or that’s how I think he heard from us that time. I have a simple map based on that data and would like to know how he hid as much as he did from us.”

“Secrets of the trade,” Naaman said. “We should seek a landing zone in the city but not too near the downtown district.”

“Why not?” Elise asked.

“There will be trouble if we fly too close to their stronghold.” Naaman met her commanding gaze and held his ground.

“Whose stronghold?” I asked.

“The people left behind.” Naaman read notes from a device. In my opinion, he was avoiding further discussion.

Elise wasn’t having any of it. “If no one holds power there, we might as well fly straight to our destination, recover the antidote, and get back to the fleet as soon as possible.”

Naaman searched for support from Decima and Jag, but neither of the Sethorn natives lowered their guard. The tech wizard looked my way. I gave him nothing.

“There is a recreation field where we should land. It’s close to the center of the city but not too close,” Naaman said.

The pilot and copilot conferred on the best approach, then swooped in quickly. More than half of the buildings were standing. Some of those appeared undamaged. I’d seen architecture similar to this but couldn’t remember where. The builders of this place liked tall, gracefully sweeping structures with bright colors forged into steel and glass. If there had been power to illuminate streets, rooftops, and landmarks, the effect would have been spectacular. As things stood, the mood was grim.

“Let’s get ready,” Elise said. “Cain, you’re with me—we’ll deploy left of the ramp. Jag, Decima, and Naaman go right. Billiam and Sykes, hold at the foot of the ramp to act as a quick reaction force. You move where needed when things get hot.”

“You can count on us, General,” Sykes and Billiam said.

“Two minutes,” the pilot said.

“Two minutes.” Elise held up her hand and counted down the last five seconds by dropping fingers. We rushed out as the ramp was still lowering.

I scanned the athletic field. White lines crisscrossed the dying, weed-choked grass. X-37 noted the patterns, but neither of us understood what they meant or what rules applied to the local game—if that was what it was. For all I knew, the colosseum-like structure was a sacrificial altar to strange alien gods.

“Clear, nothing seen,” Jag announced.

“Same this way.” Elise signaled the ship, and it took off. We formed one team and headed into a wide arch leading under seating for thousands of non-existent people.

I took the lead. Elise moved on my left, Jag my right. Naaman and Decima followed close behind.

“I should be leading,” Naaman said.

“Agreed.” I swept my D3D across my zone of responsibility, then cruised into a new hallway once I saw it was clear. Elise and Jag filled in the gaps of my peripheral vision. I couldn’t see what Decima was doing as our rear guard but suspected she was watching our back trail. Naaman stayed close to me, which was fine.

There were no stairs, just a gradual slope downward, then back up. Gray light appeared ahead of us. Fifty meters later we were looking at something like a parking lot. Beyond it were graceful buildings that had been neglected for decades.

“I don’t see signs of fighting,” X-37 said. “Could Naaman tell us more about the abandonment of this place?”

“Later, X. Let’s get the lay of the land before more history lessons.” Talking to my LAI while wearing the Archangel helmet was much easier—no need to subvocalize for privacy. The only time my friends could hear me was when I let them. Their helmets were also soundproof and equipped with state-of-the-art comms.

“I don’t like this open area,” Elise said.

“Me neither.” Jag pointed to the nearest street. “Naaman should take the lead now.”

I switched places with the tech wizard, then we jogged into one of the stranger cities I’d seen, and that was saying something. Up close, the buildings were far larger than I had realized during the flight in. Wide at their foundation, they curved upward like sword blades or ribbons of smoke. At the same time, they were solid and in good repair. Time had covered them with grime and taken away electricity, but little other damage was evident.

“We will encounter Zalis locals soon. They won’t talk to us,” Naaman said. Two streets later, he pointed to a third level balcony where a half dozen humanoid shapes watched us.

I zoomed in with the Archangel helmet optics and barely caught a glimpse of the spies before they fled into the building. Two were adults, three were children or smaller adults by the size discrepancy. They looked slim to the point of starvation, but I wasn’t sure that was a fair conclusion. Living in an abandoned city didn’t necessarily mean they were going hungry.

Intuition told me they weren’t thick boned people. Grace and elegance came to mind. I doubted these survivors would help us even if they could, but I couldn’t stop looking at them.

One glanced back at the last second. I captured a still image of him in a doorway several feet inside the balcony. Charcoal skin, purple eyes, and features so sharp they looked painful—the effect was stunning. On review of the image, they were more human than not. Shadows did strange things to first impressions. For several seconds I had thought the face was covered with short, glistening fur.

Others appeared briefly but slipped away the moment they drew our attention.

“They are always on the third level,” X-37 said over the squad channel.

“That’s for luck,” Naaman said.

I checked my zones before continuing the discussion. We were still moving quickly, and too much talking could be dangerous on a new planet. “You know that how?”

Naaman didn’t answer until we reached the corner of a building and stopped. “I’ve talked to them.”

Fist-sized spheres of glass bounced down the street, each breaking on the third or fourth impact with the metallic pavement. Colored smoke filled the air. Armed men in hoods and gas masks strode toward us from the next intersection, fading in and out of view. The ethereal march was spread out and poorly organized, reminding me of a gang or untrained militia.

“We have contact,” Jag said. “Hold fire. Most of them are carrying melee weapons at their sides or over their shoulders.”

“I’ll lead the retreat if we need to move quickly,” Decima said.

“Make sure it is a good route,” Jag said.

“Do you utilize interlocking fields of fire?” Elise asked.

Jag hesitated a second, translating the tactical terminology. “Yes. I am adjusting to a more efficient position now.”

Elise and I spread apart slightly. X-37 displayed our optimal areas of combat responsibility on our HUDs, each cone overlapping. I searched for rifles, pistols, or anything that appeared capable of reaching out and touching us from a distance. One man wore a long coat that could conceal a nastier weapon than the others possessed, but I wasn’t sure it did.

Additional men appeared from the other direction.

“How’s that escape route looking?” I asked Decima.

“No worries. We have two alleyways and some doorways without doors,” she said.

“Perhaps we should have brought the Archangels,” X-37 said privately.

I didn’t comment.

One figure stood head and shoulders above the others, who were barely taller than Elise. His coat swept back from his thin shoulders. An angular mask with a large filter covered his face. A quick check confirmed all of them were wearing protective equipment. It wasn’t armor, but they were clearly concerned about exposure to the elements. Heavy coats despite the mild weather, gloves taped into their sleeves, hoods covering weird looking gas masks—these people were as worried about contamination as we were.

Our armor and weapons gave us the edge, but there were a lot of them, and this was their home, not ours. The clubs and hammers could be a trick to draw us toward complacency.

Overconfidence killed, especially on strange new worlds.

A gust of wind swept down the street, snapping at clothing, dispersing most of the smoke, and replacing it with dust and grit from the street. The leader of the group took an additional step forward, then pointed at Naaman. I didn’t understand what he said.

“Can you translate, X?”

“One moment, Reaper Cain.” Seconds passed while the local man ranted.

“He sounds pissed,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. You are just another bunch of invaders come to steal the riches of their world. I am posting dialogue tags and vocabulary on your HUD. Please follow along.” My LAI guided me through the conversation between the militia leader and Naaman.

“I have been this way before,” Naaman admitted. “What does the Triumvirate demand as tribute?”

“My soldiers say they have seen you in the shadows. You are not to be trusted. If you don’t know what is required, then you don’t belong here,” tall, dark, and territorial said.

“I am here for a cure, and for a way to keep away the Darkness,” Naaman said.

“You seek weapons and plunder!” The leader advanced several steps. His unorganized militia adjusted perfectly, like it was a planned maneuver. Maybe I was reading too much into their not so random teamwork, or maybe they based their maneuvers on logic and traditions far different from anything I knew.

I checked distances, searched again for unseen weapons, and scanned the building for something I’d missed. X-37 did the same without a word. His analysis displayed on my HUD with a few of the soldiers flagged as suspicious. This group was too confident for their gear level.

Naaman spread his hands and bowed his head.

The leader returned the gesture after a long pause. When he stood, the mood grew more tense, not less.

“That may have been a challenge despite how it appeared when filtered through Maglan customs,” X-37 warned.

“You must stand before the Triumvirate,” the leader said. “I am Kitok. Speak to no one but me. Touch nothing, take nothing, and you will live longer.”

“Of course,” Naaman said.

The ragtag soldiers surrounding us faced the way they had come. The group behind us was now larger than those showing us their backs. Others stood from rooftops and balconies. I knew there had been more concealed and was impressed they escaped all our efforts to spot them. As for long range weapons, I still didn’t see any, but they had to be there. Why watch from elevated positions otherwise?

“Care to fill us in, cousin?” Jag asked.

“They don’t trust me. Now we have to go to their stronghold, which I tried to find several times,” Naaman said. “They think we’re here for weapons.”

Elise laughed grimly. “They’re not wrong. Did you tell them we want a cure to the Camis Shae contamination more?”

“Yes. They don’t believe me, but at least they’re willing to parley this time,” Naaman said.

“I am working on a language primer and can send it to your HUDs,” X-37 said.

Naaman explained a few key phrases and nonverbal warning signs to watch for as we were escorted deeper and deeper into the abandoned city.

13

Not everything about Zalis was designed by engineers. Nature held dominion through the terrain the city had been built upon, and that meant some of the streets curved and twisted. Our guides escorted us down descending switchback streets flanked by older buildings that stood closer together.

“I’m feeling closed in,” Elise said on our private channel.

I wondered about the private comment. X-37 would agree that the general’s observation was perfectly reasonable. My own danger senses were on high alert. Elise knew when we were walking into an ambush, and this episode made me feel like the locals were pulling a fast one.

“Same,” I said. “They’re taking us everywhere but the actual destination. This bullshit is to make it harder for us to find their base later.”

“It won’t work. Even without a limited artificial intelligence, I’d be able to recreate this path with enough work.” Elise gave me a look that I could read even with her visor darkened. I knew the woman’s body language and mood almost as well as my own.

“What do you think of their weapons?” I asked.

She waited until we rounded the corner and assessed the new environment before answering. “They’re not showing us everything. And don’t dismiss clubs and hammers. What would you use against armor if your options were limited?”

“She has a point, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Edged weapons would have little chance of penetrating our metal and ceramic composite plates, but blunt force trauma would still cause considerable problems.”

“They can’t crack Archangel gear with anything they're carrying,” I said.

“They don’t know that, Reaper Cain.”

The terrain went from bad to worse, and when we reached a street, it was covered with drainage grates. The militia stopped, leaving us on the lowest possible ground and surrounded by towering buildings. New figures appeared on balconies, in windows, and on rooftops. One man carried an interesting version of a crew-served weapon, with belts of ammunition roping around the second man in each fire team.

“That’s disturbing,” Jag said, his tone dry. “Assuming those are real guns. The lines are pretty smooth, and I don’t see where spent ammunition ejects or how they deal with heat buildup for that matter.”

I kept my comments to myself and looked for additional surprises. Sure enough, one of the weapons crews had a different variation—something I thought might be a flamethrower or plasma weapon if they were more technologically advanced than they seemed.

The leader disappeared into the crowd. From our lower position, it was impossible to see exactly where he went.

“All right, Naaman. Time to give us the full briefing,” I said.

“They told me never to come back,” Naaman said. “But I’ve searched this city and other parts of the planet without help and had no luck. We need cooperation from the locals, and that means the Triumvirate.”

“What exactly is that?” Elise asked. “I doubt I’m going to like the answer.”

“Three men, I think. The one time I saw them they were hooded and didn’t talk. All their edicts were delivered to me by their subordinates.” Naaman turned in a circle, probably counting how many people we would have to fight if this went bad. “If you want to find answers in days instead of months, this is the only way.”

“Our ship won’t be able to retrieve us beyond this point,” Decima pointed out.

“I assume you have planned a way to break free of this low area,” Jag said.

“I have some ideas,” she answered.

Kitok returned with a pair of small soldiers in higher quality coats. Their breathing apparatuses had been polished, and they carried decent short swords in scabbards. Without knowing their skills at metallurgy, it was hard to say how effective the blades would be. At the very least, the weapons were a mark of rank. Each of them held a staff in one hand.

“I have brought the required witnesses,” Kitok announced. “Glento has been contacted and agrees the Triumvirate will parley with you, but you must leave your weapons here.”

“I’d rather leave them on the ship,” Decima said on our channel only.

“Agreed,” Elise said. “I’d like to handle these negotiations, but you’re going to have to do it, Naaman. Argue for us to keep our weapons, and if that’s not possible, we need to leave them where they are safe.”

Naaman nodded and put his hands together as he addressed Kitok and the staff-bearing witnesses. “We pledge no harm to you or your people. We come in peace and wish to go in the same manner. I have many sick men and women among my people and only want to heal them. It’s true that others like us came for weapons, but they are not us.”

Kitok looked to the smaller figures in their officious garb. A moment passed, they nodded, and he returned his attention to our group. “One of you will be allowed to transport whatever belongings you wish to your sky vessel beyond the perimeter of this meeting place.”

“I think I’m low man in this scenario,” Decima said on our channel. She stepped closer to Kitok and his special new friends. “Do you have a cart or something, maybe someone to help me carry stuff?”

Kitok looked questioningly at Naaman, who translated.

“Interesting,” I said.

“My analysis suggests there is a ninety percent chance Kitok was sincere in his confusion,” X-37 said. “This is one of the few places we have encountered where there is no underlying framework common to our languages.”

I had my doubts. Lots of times I had thought new languages were random noise, but we had learned that something linked humanity whenever we encountered them, like maybe we were all from the same not so mythical Earth Jace Hughes rebuilt.

“They’re bringing a cart and will provide an armed escort. Decima will be allowed to carry her weapons at the ready once she leaves us here,” Naaman said.

The wait was tense but short. Soon Decima was on her way out of the ambush point with a cart full of our more obvious weapons. I never went unarmed thanks to my cybernetics. I suspected my comrades kept their own secrets. Our armor was dangerous enough, I thought.

Kitok seemed to have his reservations. He looked us over and never relaxed. “Do you wish to wait until she has contact with your ship?”

Naaman answered. “Yes, that would be best.”

Ten minutes later, Decima announced she had boarded the assault shuttle.

Naaman faced Kitok. “We are in your hands.”

“That’s the truth,” Jag muttered on comms. He didn’t sound worried, but neither was he pleased.

“I’m losing contact with Decima and the assault shuttle,” I said.

“Should be a better connection once the ship is in the air,” Elise said.

“Naaman and I have a nearly unbreakable communication link through our Sethorn gear. Halek Cain should also be able to hear her with the hard skin, unless he has broken that function somehow,” Jag said.

“Cain for Decima, can you read me?” I knew I hadn’t damaged the hard skin, but the comms were full of static.

“Barely, Halek. Better than nothing,” she said. “Try not to forget it’s an option. Maybe your cybernetics are out of sync with our technology. Not sure what’s going on with the comms.”

“Noted.” I wasn’t ready to shut down conversation with Elise. If I had to pick, she was who I would rely on to get out of this mess.

The assault shuttle climbed high and then circled the city. I watched with trepidation as it disappeared into the clouds.

Kitok and his growing army of militia gang members took us farther into a maze of buildings. The designs were like the structures where we had landed, but shorter by several stories and often broader at the base. Coloring was somber and reminded me of brick and mortar, though everything was some sort of alloy. Even the pavement was something more akin to metal than concrete.

“Civilian bystanders on your right,” Jag said.

“I see them.” Turning three hundred and sixty degrees as I walked, I scanned the area carefully so that X-37 could do his normal analysis.

“There are eighty-seven combat-neutral individuals visible,” X-37 said. “Oddly enough, none of these are children.”

“And that matters why?” I asked.

“Unknown,” X-37 said. “This seems to be their population center. You are witnessing everyday life in Zalis.”

“I have a theory,” Jag said. “Your LAI’s observation keyed me into it.”

Elise waited as long as she could but showed some of her useful eagerness to have answers. “Care to share?”

“More of a gut feeling, but I think we’ll find out soon if I’m right.” He laughed bitterly. “These people are sneaky as a mini-bear.”

“While I am extremely curious to know what a mini-bear is, I believe Jag is correct,” X-37 said. “Trickery is afoot.”

Kitok led us into a plaza with a fountain at the center and brightly painted buildings encircling it. A dozen streets opened to the place. Our escort faded away, slipping into buildings, down side streets, and into alleyways. A gaggle of children armed with short blades and handguns replaced the militia.

Most of the children were in their early teens, but a large number were much younger. Some hissed and taunted us, others laughed melodically.

“What the hell is this, Kitok?” I asked.

The Zalis militia leader and Naaman both looked at me.

“Don’t get excited, I’m still picking up the language,” I said.

Kitok came closer, looking me up and down. “I hadn’t thought you were the clever one.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I said. “Let me take a guess. You don’t think we’ll blast children. Do you even know what a Reaper is?”

Naaman clarified half of what I had said, and I made note of my mistakes. Languages weren’t my best skill, but I did well with X-37’s help.

“This implication saddens me.” Kitok backed away, causing me to feel strangely rejected. “But you are wrong. We give our younglings a chance to prove themselves. They are more ruthless than adults when called to defend our inner sanctum. Is it not the same with your kind?”

“His use of that last word is interesting, Reaper Cain.” X-37 processed information. “I would have expected him to say your people. The word ‘kind’ implies something different.”

I filed X’s observation for later reflection. “Let’s talk to the Triumvirate or whatever and make a deal.”

14

Kitok called a halt in front of a building that resembled another coliseum but with a roof plated in scraps of gold. Looters had taken what they could pull down. Ladders leaned against walls on one side, looking nearly as neglected as the rest of the city. Wide stairs led up to the front doors where proper soldiers stood, as proper as any hybrid between gang and militia could be. More than a few wore metal-mesh around their gas masks and goggles.

I couldn’t help myself. “Nice place. Real fixer-upper.”

Kitok considered me for a long moment. “I do not think you are sincere.”

“You get used to it,” Elise said, her grasp of the new language was improving but wasn’t perfect.

My linguistic skills weren’t much better, but I forged ahead. “Are we going inside? I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk.”

Naaman intervened. “Casual rudeness is a mark of friendship among his people. We would like to see the Triumvirate and present our case.”

Kitok bowed his head, then turned away. He climbed the stairs, removing his hood and gas mask as he went. From the back, his head was covered in hair buzzed so short it looked more like gray-brindle fur than hair. His ears looked like the gas mask had tweaked them upward, reminding me of the Maglan foxes I’d encountered the night I met Jag and his team.

“What is going on with Kitok’s head?” Elise asked.

“Helmet hair,” I joked.

“Whatever.” Elise edged forward, craning her neck for a better view despite the impossibility of seeing Kitok’s face until he turned around.

At the top, he spoke with the heavily armed and armored guards flanking the doorway. The men were bruisers, easily six and a half or seven feet tall. More noticeable, however, were their faces when they raised their visors. Dense, black fur covered every part of their visage. The eyes resembled either a Maglan fox or a cat. Suddenly I wished my cat lore was a bit more up-to-date. For all I knew, these men could resemble mini-bears.

“Not what I expected.” Delight filled Elise’s words despite how I knew she hated being surprised.

“Interesting,” Naaman muttered.

Jag looked at him critically. “You’ve been to this planet a half dozen times, and you’re only now learning what they look like?”

“They’ve never unmasked before now,” Naaman said.

Behind us, the heckling band of children chattered in a language I doubted even their own parents understood. I resisted the urge to glance back, relying on a rear helmet camera view instead. The resolution wasn’t great, and it required me to stand motionless.

The kids were still armed, though less prone to brandishing the weapons. I still wasn’t sure about the switch between adult and juvenile guards. The first assumption felt right, but there was more to it. Most of them had abandoned their protective headgear as well.

Were they kids or just small?

“X, I’m barely tracking this. What the hell is going on here?”

“There are several possibilities, Reaper Cain. My analysis suggests that the most effective tactic available for them is deception, sleight of hand if you will. They are a survival culture with limited resources and almost no military strength. Nothing is as it seems,” X-37 said. “Their appearance has little or nothing to do with their combat readiness.”

“Very helpful.” I examined the doorway guards and confirmed the brutes had better gear, but not by much. “I figured out that all by myself. People on Zalis are sneaky… and cats.”

“They are neither cats nor another creature of historic Earth, Reaper Cain. Please focus,” X-37 said.

Jag put forth his own theory. “I don’t know if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, but the bait and switch bothers me. If they really thought to use their children as a shield, that says something about their priorities. But I think they did that so they could move their strongest assets into a new position. Something nasty will be waiting for us if we make a mistake.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Assuming those are children.”

“Huh. Good point.” Jag looked back at the unruly children but held his opinion. “Maybe they’re just small like children?”

I let the discussion go.

Kitok turned our way, hands clasped in front of his waist. His long face looked older than the others. Feline features shaped his expression, but X-37 was right: the man was more human than animal. “The Triumvirate will see you. Speak to no one. Touch nothing. Stay together. Anyone who slips away from this group to go exploring will be dealt with harshly.”

“X, can you evaluate the air quality here?”

My LAI fired back his answer almost immediately. “All evidence suggests you may open your helmet if you wish.”

I slid back my Archangel visor, adjusted the hard skin, and lit a cigar. My comrades looked at my strange visage.

“What? If I can’t have weapons, why not?”

“You’re killing me, Reaper,” Elise said.

Our host didn’t react to my rudeness, and I dared to hope my habit was more acceptable here. Maybe these sort-of human people weren’t so bad after all.

Inside the dome, there was one hallway wide enough to drive a tank through. Pillars flanked a walkway carpet with red and gold fabric. Murals of Kitok’s people hung on the walls, and sunlight streamed down from skylights high above. X-37 kept a map of our progress.

I communicated with my LAI using hand signals, something I hadn’t done for a while due to the ever presence of helmet comms while operating on ships in hostile environments. “What are we missing, X?”

“Other than these people are humanoid analogues of an ancient animal species, and that they have managed to survive, or perhaps even thrive, on the planet we thought was too poisonous to explore?” X-37 asked.

“I get all that. But there have been other things. Like the way they switched their first contact force with the smaller warriors and passed them off as children,” I said.

“Data still suggests they are children.” X-37 signaled me to focus on observation and save the discussion for later.

I counted guards, noting all of them seemed well armed and armored. None spoke. Their catlike eyes tracked our movements.

The central chamber was large with stadium seating leading down to the main floor where the audience would be held. Most of Kitok’s original team was arrayed near the benches. None of them wore masks or helmets now, and they had discarded their disheveled coats. The well fitted clothing beneath was simple and neat.

Three men sat on large chairs on a raised dais. Their bodyguards kept their helmet visors closed and their hands on their weapons. Kitok approached the foot of the stairs, bowed, and addressed the Triumvirate.

“I have brought the intruders as you requested.” He motioned toward us.

“Not the kind of introduction I was hoping for,” Elise said quietly.

Two of the three were men and were much larger than Kitok or the others. Thick shoulders, powerful arms, and bulky torsos were displayed prominently in the way they sat—leaning forward with their elbows on their knees. The tallest of the three was the female. The biggest male spoke first.

“I was told you came by sky ship and that your language is difficult to understand,” he said. “I am Glento, highest among the three. Ask my companions and they will tell you differently, but it is so.”

Naaman stepped forward to reply. “I speak your language with some difficulty. Please forgive my errors as I do not wish to offend you or your people.”

No one reacted to his speech.

He continued. “We came seeking the cure to an illness. Others came before us seeking weapons, but that is not our quest.”

Glento waved his hand impatiently. “Kitok told us you claimed innocence.”

“Are you going to join the conversation, Reaper Cain?” my LAI asked as he updated language cheat sheets in my HUD.

I signaled no, not yet.

“What can we do to prove our sincerity?” Naaman asked.

Glento sat up straight, put his hands on his knees, and looked to his peers as though he was amused. “That’s different. None of the others made such a request.”

“A meaningless request,” the female said, then addressed Naaman. “I am Kaiza, once the general of our void troopers and admiral of our transport fleets. Now I am merely the greatest of the Shae Triumvirate.”

“I am noting her partial use of the name for this planet,” X-37 said. “Did you catch that, Reaper Cain.”

I waved my LAI off. Tracking the conversation took most of my brain power.

The final member of the Triumvirate stood. Though he was the smallest, he still appeared large on the dais. “I am Molon. Neither of my companions want you here. Glento will demand you submit to trial by combat. Kaiza will have you killed. I will at least use your talents before discarding you.”

“Honesty detected,” X-37 said.

“What was that voice?” Kaiza demanded.

I stepped forward. “My armor has a speaker. The voice came from there.”

“Your armor speaks?” The tone of her response was full of menace.

“No,” I lied. “My personal assistant speaks from a distant location. Sensors”—I motioned to my Archangel gear—“allow him to see and hear what I do.”

“Your grasp of our language is very poor,” Kaiza said. “Make your assistant talk.”

The other two members of the Triumvirate motioned upward with their hands. It seemed like assent.

“Try not to get us murdered,” I said.

“Your confidence in my negotiation skills is inspirational, Reaper Cain, but perhaps Naaman should continue to talk on our behalf,” X-37 said.

“Don’t tell me, tell them.” Of all the times for my LAI to spout off and draw attention to himself, this had to be the worst.

“What are you waiting for?” Molon asked. “Are you consulting your remote assistant? This feels like treachery.”

“My pardon, Molon of Zalis,” X-37 said. “But I am a mere functionary, not worthy to participate in this council. Naaman of Sethorn should speak for us.”

Glento, Kaiza, and Molon waited. Spectators barely breathed. Suspense held the room. I got the feeling they were expecting violence, like an execution or trial by combat.

Naaman put himself between the Triumvirate and the rest of us. “Perhaps we would find common ground if we understood each other. My people are hunted by Oroth forces. They conquer planets and demand tribute. More recently they invaded the home of my companions and drove them into the void. The Oroth forces seek to use the Darkness to destroy us, and we sought a Darkness Killer to fight them, not knowing what the element would do to us.”

“No one can use the Darkness. Either these Oroth are fools or you are lying,” Glento said.

“You know the Darkness is treacherous, Glento,” Kaiza said. “They are obviously planning a betrayal, just as the Dark Triumvirate attempted.”

“Camis traitors.” Glento shrugged, then sat back as though conceding the point.

“You have never seen the Darkness in their true form,” Molon stated.

Glento and Kaiza perked up, clearly intrigued by this idea.

“No. They attack in a swarm,” Naaman said. “Ships appear as monsters. Entire fleets disappear in their wake. Populations of planets are driven mad before destroying themselves. Communications networks unravel.”

Kaiza sneered at Molon. “Tell them. Make them understand. We may be on the same side after all.”

Molon paced the dais, stopped, then paced again. When it seemed he had his thoughts in order, he descended the steps to stand slightly above Naaman and the rest of us.

“They are our shame,” he said. “Once, we were one people. My companions and I were generals of renown. Centuries of the Sansein menace drove our people to extreme defensive measures until our scientists finally harnessed the power of Darkrendul, the magma creatures from the core of our planet.”

I waited for the rest of the story, but Molon retreated to his chair and sat down. “That’s it? You need to work on your presentation skills, champ.”

“What is a champ?” Glento asked.

“It means warrior of high renown,” X-37 said. “Please forgive Reaper Cain’s poor manners.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sorry. I was just really into your amazing tale and wanted more.”

“Ah,” Molon said. “I suppose I could tidy it up for you. My companions and I saw where reliance on the Darkrendul, what you call the Darkness, would lead us and demanded better oversight.”

“We demanded a plan for it to be put back where we found it,” Kaiza corrected.

Glento lifted his hand in agreement. “Hear, hear, Kaiza. That is correct. Camis fanatics broke from Camis Shae and risked all our deaths.”

“You were cast out for speaking the truth?” Naaman asked.

“Very much,” Molon said. “You saw castaways and survivors when you came to our city, but now you understand the truth. Their Dark Triumvirate will not stop until they rule the galaxy and crush all who stand before them, no matter the cost to their souls. We have suffered their blockade for ages so that no one might realize the truth we carry. The discipline of Camis may never rejoin the spirit of Shae, and that means the power of this planet must be concealed, never to be used for good or evil. The machine that cannot be seen must never rise—neither for evil nor good. This saddens me most of all because many wonderful futures have died with the horrible reality that plagues us. “

“Do not be dramatic, Molon,” Kaiza drawled.

Molon hissed at her.

Elise stepped forward before the scene got out of control. All eyes went to her. “Please forgive my simple grasp of your language. I am the leader of the Maglan Fleet. We will stop the Dark Triumvirate from invading your home world and defeat them in void combat. When this is accomplished, we will help you return the Darkrendul to where it belongs.”

One by one, the members of the Shae Triumvirate turned on her. For the first time, they gathered close together, standing almost shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed. From the top of the stairs, they looked taller than they were.

“This one is the boldest of all who have come,” Glento said.

The others seemed to agree, but the body language was defensive and closed.

Elise gave them a moment to respond, then pressed ahead. “Defeating the Darkness is in both of our interests.”

“I admire your confidence,” Kaiza said. “But you came here in desperation and now claim to be our savior?”

Molon jumped in before Elise could speak. “What experience could someone so young have? War requires wisdom more than courage, craftiness more than virtue, and most of all, endurance.”

I was about to jump in and list everything we’d been through when X-37 beeped me.

“Something is happening outside,” my LAI warned.

The distant thumps of explosions made their way through the building’s foundation. I faced the exit calmly, not wanting a sudden move to ruin Elise’s negotiations or alarm our hosts. Jag did the same. Apparently, his hearing was as good as mine or better. That was saying something since this body was in its mid-twenties.

Elise, and then the Triumvirate, heard the commotion. The look on her face broke my heart. She understood we were under attack only moments after she had promised to defend the city and the planet.

“It seems there is no better time than the present to prove my goodwill,” she said, then strode toward the exit, waving for us to follow.

I fell in beside her. The Zalis guards closed their helmets, formed into squads, and headed for the front of the building. An explosion blasted the huge double doors off their hinges before we saw what was happening. The sound was hard to miss, and the thunder of gunfire was all too familiar.

Jag pulled blades from his armor where they had been cleverly hidden. Though not as long as swords, they were bigger than knives and looked deadly. Elise activated the vambrace guns, causing them to pop up from the armor. The weapons didn’t carry a large amount of ammunition but were deadly. I had the same option, but also a Reaper blade available from my left arm and a shield from my right.

Naaman pulled his whip from under his cloak.

“Let’s fade to the left as a squad and work off what the locals do,” Elise said. “Cain, you’re my shock trooper. If we need to punch through stubborn resistance, you’ll take the lead. Jag and I will follow. Naaman will bring up the rear.”

“Her assessment of individual strengths and weaknesses is spot on,” X-37 said privately.

I agreed but focused on my job. We broke into a jog, then sprinted to the cover of a pillar near the front door. Obsidians burst into the room. Their guns blasted local defenders, sending two of them onto their backs with blood spilling across the carpets. A third was struck as well, but his armor held.

Others fired with good effect on the Obsidian entry team. I couldn’t tell if their rounds were penetrating the armor, but I saw the reaction of the attackers. They weren’t shrugging off the impact. One fell to the ground and struggled to get up. Two others broke formation to take cover behind a pillar opposite of us.

“Once the Zalis guards fall back, we will engage across the corridor, hitting the Obsidians hard from the flank,” Elise said. “If we eliminate them, we move outside and reassess. From the sound of it, the battle is worse outside, and there are civilians and more lightly armored defenders. They are going to need our help.”

I waited for an opening, then sighted both of my vambrace guns on the Obsidian breacher. The man was identifiable by the kit he carried on his back that included pry tools and a ram. “I’ve got the breacher.”

“I will eliminate the point man,” Jag said.

Elise selected their squad leader. Naaman lacked a ranged weapon and stood guard over our rear.

The Obsidians unleashed a coordinated barrage of fire on the defenders. One spotted us and sprayed our position, blasting chucks of stone from the pillar. I retracted my right gun, then expanded my Reaper arm shield a fraction of a second later.

“Handle that guy, Reaper!” Elise said.

“Way ahead of you.” I fired and pressed forward. Leaving cover was a risk, but we were losing the angle on our targets. Jag and Elise fanned out behind me, using me as a screen from the one Obsidian defending his team’s flank.

Slugs smashed against the shield. Force transferred through my Reaper arm and into my shoulder. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t think there was damage. I returned fire, putting ninety percent of my rounds on target. Perfection just wasn’t possible in this environment.

Jag dropped his target a second before Elise blew hers off his feet. Naaman rushed behind us, whip coiling out and ready for action. If we could just get a little bit closer.

The Zalis guards hesitated, then charged forward to support us. They moved pillar to pillar. Solid tactics, I thought.

“Outside,” Elise said, then led the way. We reformed our squad and hurried into another battle. Chaos ruled the street. More of the heavily armed Zalis guards fought from cover while the militia raced along side-streets, taking potshots at each new Obsidian assault ship. The children, if that’s what they were, screamed wickedly, fired their little pistols, then vanished into buildings and shadows.

“X, contact Decima and the Archangels,” I said as we ran for cover. “We need them and our gear five minutes ago.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. I will endeavor to make contact despite the comms interference Scheid’s Obsidian forces are putting out.”

“Endeavor nothing! Just get it done.” A slug glanced off my helmet. Ears ringing, I crouched beside Elise and the others as a new wave of enemies deployed from Oroth planetary assault shuttles.

15

Jag pointed skyward as drifting smoke obscured parts of the battle. “Decima is on the way. Did you get the transmission?”

I shook my head. The hard skin connectivity wasn’t working. My comms were mediocre at best.

Elise popped up from cover, fired a burst at a squad of Obsidians, and came back with bad news. “They’ve got JFT with them. Looks like they’ve embraced teamwork to destroy a hated enemy—that’s us in case you were wondering. I liked it better when they were divided by their murderous backstabbing rivalry.”

“You never can tell with them,” Jag said. “I miss the days when it was just us against the Jump Force Troopers and Oroth regulars.”

“Let’s spread out.” I didn’t need a reminder of how bad Scheid and his goons were. “Naaman, stay with Jag. Elise and I will cross to the retaining wall on the other side of this plaza. Keep your eye on the north and the northeast streets leading into this area. That seems to be where most of them are coming from.”

“Good landing zone in that direction,” Naaman said. “If I remember correctly. But those avenues are also wide enough to land on directly. The Obsidian commander planned his attack well.”

Enemy shuttles extended landing gear seconds before they touched down. Deployment ramps lowered seconds later. Everything about the operation had the aura of maneuvers drilled over and over until mistakes were unlikely.

Elise nodded my way. Jag gave me a thumbs-up. Naaman brooded under his dark hood and looked for something to strike with his whip. I knew he was good with firearms, but his ranged weapons had gone with Decima onto the ship.

Elise faced our destination, knees flexed and upper body poised like a sprinter minus the starting blocks. “Ready when you are, Reaper.”

“Follow me.” I raced through the smoke the moment Jag opened fire on the closest Obsidians. Fresh details flashed into my awareness as I moved. The rush of adrenaline had leveled off. My situational awareness came back to normal levels. The battle seemed to slow. I felt like I had all the time in the world. This was where I belonged, right in the heart of the action.

Obsidians with silver shoulder plates and an intricate symbol emblazoned on their chest deployed from the most recently arrived assault shuttle. Behind the elite guards came General Scheid. Two additional shuttles set down and deployed more of his personal goons. They opened fire as they marched down the ramps.

“I really wish I had a grenade,” Elise said.

“Jag, do you have an update on our backup?” I asked. Line of sight communications were still pretty good, and he answered quickly. The only thing I was missing was the ability to contact the Maglan assault shuttle.

“Less than one minute,” Jag said. “Who are those freaks?”

I heard his question at the same time I saw Hagg troopers pounding down other deployment ramps. Memories of my first days on Maglan flooded back. I pushed the images aside. Scheid had brought all his assets to this fight—including the humanoid troops he’d pressed into service.”

“Those are Hagg forces,” I said. “They’re tough. Don’t underestimate them.”

“I know what they are. But why are they with Scheid? They haven’t worked with humans before—very contentious people.”

“Questions and answers later,” Elise said. She punctuated her sentence by shooting one of the Hagg warriors who had outdistanced the rest of the group. Their thick shoulders, long arms, and peculiar running gait were easy to spot. These creatures had military grade armor, unlike the first group I’d met on the pier on Maglan. Their gauntlets accentuated the serrated claw each of them had on their thumbs.

“We’re here,” Decima said, her voice loud and clear now. “Cover us. Your Archangels are about to do something dumb.”

“Give me details,” I said. Billiam and Sykes were young and invincible. The only thing that would limit their stupidity would be their imagination, and it seemed like they had plenty of that.

“They’re dropping behind enemy lines with their Blastanator 5000s. Whoops, there they go!” Decima said, her surprise evident.

“That is not a real weapon,” X-37 stated, like I didn’t recognize youthful exuberance when it jumped out of a perfectly good ship.

The Maglan shuttle burst from the clouds and cut through the smoke. Behind it, two figures dropped like rocks. The Archangels landed in the middle of Scheid’s personal guard. Both men had chain guns large enough to fit on a void fighter. They faced away from each other, firing at everything that moved.

Several Obsidians flew backward from slug strikes. Others went down clutching wounds. Scheid leapt clear of the fray, pulling one of the Hagg sergeants in front of him as a shield. Bullets pierced the humanoid from Say’d but failed to hit Scheid with enough force to drop the sociopath.

I laughed. It was a mean sound, and more than a bit maniacal. The fire of battle surged through my blood, and I craved violence almost as much as I craved victory.

The Maglan assault shuttle continued overhead, banked hard, then landed with a thunk. The deployment ramp dropped. Decima threw out bundles of gear. I dashed toward her, grabbed my D3D in midair, and immediately turned to start firing in one fluid motion. Elise, Jag, and Naaman were only a step behind me, exporting violence like professional killers.

“Extraction would have been smarter,” Jag said, his voice clear and steady on comms despite the chaos.

“Not until we find what we came for,” Elise snapped.

I thought I knew her real motivation, or at least the rest of what she based her decision on. Billiam and Sykes were on the ground now and not in a position for easy recovery. That meant Elise would have to abandon them to utilize shuttle extraction as an option.

“Fine with me,” Jag said. “Just pointing it out.”

“This isn’t even that bad.” My bravado sounded ridiculous in my own ears. Not that it mattered. We were in it to win it now.

We lay down fire on the disorganized enemy. Billiam and Sykes realized there were too many Obsidians, JFT, and Hagg troops between us and dashed out of view rather than press a bad situation. A good portion of Scheid’s best troops pursued them. I couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like the Archangel armor had taken heavier damage than either of the young men had likely anticipated.

“I’m going to have a piece of their asses when this is over,” Elise said. “What kind of stunt was that?”

“The reckless kind,” I said. “They’re young and trying to impress their general.”

“Don’t make this my fault. Archangels are trained better than that. Locke will have them running all the way back to Maglan and cleaning toilets when they get there.” She signaled for us to move with one hand and aimed with the other. I stayed right by her side. Jag, Naaman, and Decima followed close behind. For about twenty meters, we were too near each other, vulnerable to a rocket or grenade attack. But once we reached a new building, we spread out and found corners to shoot around.

“How did the meeting go? Did you get the antidote?” Decima asked.

“Not quite,” I said.

“That is an understatement, Reaper Cain.”

“Not now, X.” I looked through the thickening smoke but was unable to find the Archangels or the local defenders. This wasn’t going well.

“Hastings for overwatch,” Elise said over the tactical channel. “Do you mind giving us a hand down here?”

“Absolutely, General. We were feeling a bit left out. How does a rocket strike followed by auto cannons sound?” The copilot’s voice was eager but professional. In the background, the pilot whooped and hollered. The assault shuttle dove down between the buildings in preparation of its strafing run.

“All of the above,” Elise said. “But be advised, there are civilians on the ground. Avoid collateral damage at all costs. I’d rather fall back than create an incident with our new allies.”

I gave her a dubious look.

“What?” she asked. “They could be allies, probably, maybe… if we don’t screw this up.”

Another wave of Oroth shuttles arced down from the sky, drawing my attention. We were out of position. “Let’s move before they surround us. Looks like Scheid committed to taking control of this place.”

“My advisors didn’t think he would risk a major assault before he had possession of the antidote,” Elise said.

We jogged to a new position. “What did you think?”

She didn’t answer immediately. “I wanted to make our own assault based on the logic that was the best way to secure the antidote and the Darkness tech.”

“You two were made for each other. Perfect enemies.” I fired into a group of Hagg troopers the Obsidians were pushing ahead of them. One raised a shield that pulsed light each time it was struck. “X, do they have personal energy shields?”

“I don’t see how that can be possible,” X-37 said. “Most likely it is reactive technology, possibly based on magnetic fields. Shoot it again. I doubt the device can withstand sustained fire from your HDK D3D.”

I slammed a dozen shots into the same area of the lead Hagg’s shield. He fell to one knee, then collapsed sideways. His companions jumped over his writhing form. Scheid’s elite Obsidian guards rushed after the action.

Jag shifted as far as he could to our left without leaving cover, then fired into Scheid’s flank. The mad general’s guard responded quickly, placing themselves between their leader and the new attack.

Elise faded to the right and poured slugs into their other flank, dropping one Hagg and one Obsidian.

I shifted fire to a shuttle deploying more Obsidians and Oroth Jump Force Troopers. Rounds slammed into armor, disrupting their well-planned maneuvers. They reacted with a nearly perfect immediate action drill, spreading out and taking cover in teams of two.

Someone had been training like their lives depended on it.

“No kills, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “But you wounded a squad leader and caused significant chaos. Keep up the good work.”

Rockets streaked down from our assault shuttle as it made an attack run. Oroth ships returned fire, and soon they were in a dogfight. The Maglan pilot weaved between buildings until an Oroth pursuer smashed into a wall and exploded.

Glass filled the air. Tracer rounds ripped past us from multiple directions.

“We’ve got to move!” Elise shouted over our tactical comms but also audibly. “Reaper, get us out of here.”

“On it.” I burst from cover, gunned down an Obsidian and one of the JFT, then gut kicked a Hagg soldier who attempted to block our exit. Jag, Elise, Naaman, and Decima charged after me, shooting whatever threat I bypassed or just didn’t have time to address.

“Cain for the Archangel dumbasses,” I growled as I led the way down a narrow alley.

“Dumbass one, reading you loud and clear,” Billiam said.

“You sound like you’re in a good mood,” I grouched.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Things are getting hot, and I have twice as many kills as that slacker Sykes,” Billiam said.

“You didn’t lose your primary weapon five seconds into the battle.” Sykes argued like he was losing a bet he couldn’t afford.

“Can that talk,” Elise said. “We’re headed your way. Make sure we link up. This isn’t a good place to be separated.”

“Right away, General,” both Archangels said.

Navigating a strange city was never easy. The vastly superior enemy force pursuing us added spice. As fun as a good fight was, I was ready to be done with this one. “Cain for Overwatch. My LAI is sending you our location. Scout a better landing zone, give us the coordinates, and be ready to pick us up. Once the Archangels get their impulses under control, we can proceed with this mission like professionals.”

“Ouch,” Billiam said. “I think the Reaper just burned us on the air.”

“Copy that, Cain. Overwatch is en route and ready to turn and burn,” said the copilot.

“Billiam,” Elise said.

“Uhm, yes, General?”

“Check your settings. We all heard that.”

“Extreme embarrassment detected,” X-37 said.

16

The grenade exploded before my brain identified the object bouncing into the narrow street. For one second, all that mattered was where it had come from. My concerns changed when the overpressure flung me against the wall and bounced me onto the pavement in a heap.

X-37 shouted into my brain. I focused on the ringing in my ears and getting my hands and feet under me—yes, I was crawling for several seconds before regaining my bearings. All the cool kids were doing it.

“Your armor maintained integrity, Reaper Cain.”

Elise and Jag dragged me to my feet, urging me to run.

The ground below me tipped sharply to the right. My stomach flip-flopped. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“X, tell him to stop messing around,” Elise shouted.

“I’m up!” After shaking free of their hands, I turned just in time to see two more grenades bouncing toward us. Still reeling, I shoved Elise and Jag into a doorway and covered them with my Archangel armor.

The blast struck like an avalanche but didn’t ring my bell as hard as the first one.

We busted through a door, turned to defend it, and tried to catch our breath.

“Decima, Naaman,” I said on our team channel. “What’s your status?”

“We avoided getting blown up, unlike some people I know,” Decima said.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Can you see the street?” I asked.

“Certainly. We’re on the opposite side. Five Hagg troopers and an Obsidian are about to bust into your hiding place,” she said.

Elise and Jag went to opposite sides of the room. I squatted behind a long abandoned food counter, aiming at the doorway. It wasn’t a great position if I failed to keep them from gaining entry. The special today was a double helping of death with a side order of unreasonable violence.

A broad, heavily armored Hagg burst into the room with a double-barreled shotgun. I opened fire before his first foot touched the floor inside the threshold. Elise and Jag joined in, ruthlessly gunning him and the two following him down.

“I hate this shit, X.”

“Interesting. I would have thought you would be excited for such a well delivered blow to an enemy intent on killing you,” X-37 said.

Slaughter didn’t do it for me, but there wasn’t time for a reply. Or guilt. The Obsidian and a Hagg sergeant leapt over the bodies of the others, already firing into our sanctuary. A slug snapped my helmet sideways. Pain flashed up and down my neck.

Elise blasted the Hagg sergeant who fired the round.

I saw the exchange but was preoccupied with the Obsidian jumping over the bullet-riddled counter and driving his boot into my chest.

I flew backward and crashed halfway through a wall. One thing was certain: whoever built this city had done a much better job than I was used to, having grown up in the Union. Nothing but quality materials and solid architecture here. On any other planet, I would have been pushed through drywall.

The Obsidian jammed the barrel of his rifle against my faceplate. I dropped my weapon and extended my Reaper blade into his abdomen, hoping it would pierce his armor. He bent at the waist, shooting just over my shoulder instead of in my face.

I expanded my Reaper shield and slammed the top of it against his helmet, driving him sideways. Without losing the initiative, I thrust my blade toward his throat, seeking the hair thin gap that was difficult to protect even in the best armor.

Rage boosted my strength. I roared like an animal as I rammed the point through his throat and out the back of his neck. I ripped it free just in time to get shot at, then I jerked the shield up as bullets sprayed my position.

“How many are there? You said five,” I complained.

“We’re busy with our own problems,” Decima shouted.

“Reaper!”

Somehow Elise had wound up in the next room with multiple enemies. More assaulted through the front door, while Jag fought another group in an adjoining hallway.

“Stay away from the walls, Halek,” Naaman warned. “Your Archangels are coming like charging bulls.”

“What is a bull again?” I sidestepped a heartbeat before the wall exploded from the kinetic energy of two unstoppable Archangels.

A group of Hagg troopers and another Obsidian retreated from their chain guns. I stumbled backward to get clear of the violence.

“A little warning next time!” I shouted.

Neither of the Archangels answered. Instead, they drove a large group of attackers back into the street.

I ran toward Elise and realized two things. She had killed or wounded everyone who came after her in the first wave, and there was a back door to this building a fresh squad of JFT were utilizing.

They assaulted through a door opposite me but behind Elise, just as she gave me a thumbs-up.

“Get down, kid!”

Elise dropped. I charged forward with the weapons I had in hand. Pushing the shield ahead of me as I jumped, I wound up my left arm to slash whoever I reached first.

Two JFT stared up at me in surprise, then lost their heads. I crashed into the rest of their squad, hoping Elise would join me sooner rather than later.

My helmet smashed into a chest plate. My knee struck something else. Then I rolled to my feet, stared down a gun barrel, and laughed desperately when Elise shot the man about to kill me. We were getting good at saving each other.

Her HDK stitched the extremely close quarters fight with high velocity projectiles. I slashed one more opponent across the arm and squeezed my back to the wall to avoid Elise’s wrath.

Smoke drifted over the scene as my sound filters normalized and blood flowed across the floor.

“You alive, Reaper?” Elise asked.

“Think so. You?”

She laughed. “Godsdammit, let’s not do that again.”

Jag appeared in the doorway holding a bundle of enemy weapons. “We need to go. More are on the way. Naaman is watching them from a shadow.”

“All right,” I said. “That went well.”

“Seriously?” Elise asked at the same time Jag spoke.

“We need to define some terms, I think. That was a tough fight.”

“But did you die?” I asked.

Elise grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the exit. “Not yet, but the day isn’t over.”

We regrouped and made a run for it. The sooner we were clear of this neighborhood and could get to the Maglan assault ship, the better.

* * *

We arrived in an intersection we’d fought through at least twice. Running around this city with guns blazing was getting old. This time, the assault ship waited with goodies.

“My analysis clearly shows that General Scheid and his coalition are increasing their efforts to dominate this planet, and most especially, the city,” X-37 said. “One might infer they already have the antidote for the anti-darkness compound or expect to secure it forthwith.”

“Doesn’t make sense. We’re missing something.” I smoothed one of my fresh bandages, re-sealed the hard skin, and held my breath. Jag's warning about opening the hard skin for any reason wasn't difficult to remember. I'd repaired fourteen lacerations and removed one bullet fragment. Each time I exposed my DK contaminated skin to the air, X-37 went on the fritz and I started to pass out. Having someone else patch me up was out of the question—not even Jag who was wearing hard skin or Elise who thought she was immune.

“That was the worst incident yet,” X-37 said. “If you acquire new injuries in the next twenty-four hours, they will need to wait to be treated. Neither of us can endure another round of field first aid.”

“Agreed. But look at the bright side,” I said.

“Please enlighten me, Reaper Cain.” X-37 made information processing noises.

“We are officially in a target rich environment with plenty of bullets.” I loaded ammunition with gusto, surprised by the selection of cigars and other care package items. When that was done, I rooted around in one of the crates, hoping for whiskey, even though it was off-limits. No self-respecting Reaper would compromise a mission by consuming alcohol. Smoking was a gray area.

“Are you still crying over being the slowest Archangel to get here?” Elise asked.

I pointed at her. “You know I was bringing up the rear on purpose.”

“Sure, Reaper. That’s your story, and you’re sticking to it.”

“Damn straight.” I waited for X-37 to chime in, but he didn’t.

“Well, I'm glad you were able to patch up your boo-boos.”

“Watch it, kid.”

She fist bumped me and went to check on Billiam, Sykes, and Jag, who were taking their turn on the perimeter. We decided not to take off until we had to. No need to make it easy for the Oroth patrols to find us.

My companions loaded up, replaced what they could of damaged gear, and generally made themselves ready for action. Elise was incredible. Not for the first time, I saw her as who she was rather than who I had met years ago on the prison station.

“Anything else I can find for you?” the pilot asked. He looked tall and gangly away from the cockpit.

“Thanks for the top off,” I said. The weight of full ammo magazines and hydration packs was reassuring. The city remained as dangerous as ever, but all things considered, this was an improvement.

“Hey, Reaper,” the pilot said. “Joe and I weren't sure if we should say something, but there are local civilians getting rounded up by the Oroth. No idea why, but it can't be good.”

“Why wouldn't you report that?” I was curious and more than a bit wary.

“Beg your pardon, but none of us know you. We do, however, know the general and her soft spot for innocent victims extremely well. I guess that's because of how you two met on Dreadmax. We've all heard the stories.” He glanced toward the copilot, who joined us.

“You think she’ll jeopardize the mission to save people we don't know,” I said.

They both looked uncomfortable. Joe the copilot responded. “No way we would accuse her of risking a mission. But you know what we're saying, right? I mean, she can't save everyone.”

I took a pull on my cigar, never taking my eyes off of the flyboys. Several things were obvious. Their loyalty to Elise was unquestionable. It was also plain that they had good hearts, just like she did. They might want to ignore collateral damage, but at the end of the day, nobody working for Elise could stand the death or imprisonment of innocent civilians.

“Tell me the rest.” I saw something else in their expressions. These guys weren't wordsmiths. They didn't know how to paint a picture.

The copilot, Joe, finally spat it out. “Some of them resisted and were shot. The victims didn't look like people, kind of dark and furry with purple eyes. Didn't know what to make of them, but we both agreed that no matter who they are, they didn't deserve to get rounded up like animals and murdered when they didn't comply. Isn't that why we’re fighting against the Oroth Council?”

I bit down on the cigar, ruining one end of it. Controlling my anger for once, I pulled it out, examined the gnarled cylinder, and then started to swear under my breath. The pilots backed away, hands held up, asking me to calm down and apologizing for bringing it up.

“The only thing you did wrong was not telling me sooner, or telling the general. But don't worry about it. We’re going to handle this.” I went looking for Elise, knowing she couldn't be far.

* * *

No one spoke as the Maglan assault shuttle raced between buildings. The ship was too large for this type of flying, but the piloting team was now on a mission. They'd been slow to share what they witnessed during the chaotic battle and seemed eager to make up for it.

“We could get there faster by going over the city, but we’d be seen immediately,” Joe said. “Not sure what these buildings are made of, but it plays havoc with comms and sensors. Just what we need at the moment.”

Elise gripped the back of his seat and stared at the screens. “Understood. Just get us there. Keep an eye out for anything unusual. We're still looking for an antidote or someone who can help us find it.”

“Of course, General,” Joe said.

Billiam got my attention with a wave of his hand. “Your buddy is banging around inside the storage compartment. It got locked because of, you know, quarantine and all that.”

I moved to the door. “You all right, Tank?”

“No, I'm not all right. What the hell is happening out there? Have you found an antidote? Just give me something—any kind of news. I'm going stir crazy in here,” he said.

“We're having some trouble with the locals. I'm in the same boat you are, but I have Sethorn hard skin,” I said.

He cursed loudly. “I don't know what that is or what it has to do with anything. Does that keep you from being contagious?”

“My Sethorn friends think so. Slows it down at least. Listen, as soon as I have a remedy, you'll be the first to know.” It wasn't hard to put myself in Tank’s shoes, though my medical prison had been larger.

“Well I guess I'll be right freaking here.” Tank stopped pacing and shouting. It sounded like he had plopped on the floor, probably to brood angrily at his fate.

I returned to the cockpit. “Any progress? I thought they knew where they were going.”

The pilot answered. “We know, just trying to be smart about getting there.”

“Let them work, Reaper,” Elise said. “I've been thinking. This may be a win-win. There are obviously people who need our help. Plus, saving them may prove our good intent to the Triumvirate, or whoever else has power on this planet.”

“Hoping for the goodwill and cooperation of people like this is never a sure thing,” I argued.

“Did I say I expected a sure thing? Come on, Reaper. We’ve got to work with what we have.”

“You're right, Elise.”

She stared at me. My use of her name had an obvious effect. I wasn't sure it was a big deal. I couldn't call her kid forever.

“Make a note of that, X. We need that logged for posterity,” Elise said.

“Hey, he's my LAI.”

X-37 jumped in, showing his questionable loyalty. “No one is doubting who I work for, Reaper Cain. As it happens, however, I have already documented this incident as it is quite unusual.”

“I've got something,” the pilot said. “Joe, see if you can confirm. Captured civilians being transported by ground vehicle, heading two hundred seventy-five degrees at one thousand meters.”

“Confirmed,” copilot Joe said.

Elise leaned into their space to see for herself, then faced me. “It's time to do our thing.”

We fist-bumped and retreated to the deployment area to smash out a quick plan.

“An aerial deployment is risky, but that's what we’re going to do. I think my pilots will mutiny if we don't keep them involved,” Elise said.

I looked at Billiam and Sykes. “These two jokers can lead the way, since they've got the most recent operational experience.”

“We love to jump,” Sykes said.

I gave the Archangels a thumbs-up. “I like where your head’s at.”

Elise lowered her guard when the rest of our team was otherwise occupied. I moved in closer. “I hope you're right about this.”

“Me too,” she said.

* * *

“Okay, it's time to show these jerks they messed with the wrong alpha team,” Elise said.

Everyone from the pilots to the Archangels gave an enthusiastic shout.

“All right, boys. You’re up.” She shifted her attention from the Archangels to the rest of us. “This illustrious duo will lead the way, dropping down with some chain guns shock and awe. Naaman and Decima will go defensive, finding cover and securing the perimeter against any reinforcements they send. The rest of us storm the assault shuttle, prevent it from lifting off, and liberate the prisoners. Our aim will be to capture the vehicle for our own purposes as well.”

“I like it,” Jag said. “That will make it easier to move the civilians to safety.”

Elise looked at me, waiting for my usual response.

I shrugged. “I guess you know what you're doing, kid.”

Elise grinned, popped her knuckles, and faced the deployment ramp. “There you have it. High praise from the Reaper. Let's do this.”

The assault shuttle engines whined as it descended sharply, then slowed right above our target. Rough looking soldiers shoved the prisoners onto the Oroth slave vessel as the flight crew hastily warmed up the engines. Panic seemed to be the order of the day. Maybe they knew what it meant to piss off a Reaper, but more likely, they understood they were the scum of the earth and we had come to put them in their place.

“Go!” Elise shouted.

Joe dropped the ramp. Sykes and Billiam leapt out, their Archangel gear slowing their descent just enough to keep them from getting hurt. They started firing before they were on the ground. The chain guns wiped out two thirds of the Oroth slaver guards.

I went next, mostly because I was willing to jump when we were still slightly too high, just like the young bucks leading this charge. My feet hit the ground so hard I felt it in my teeth. The armor protected me, dispersing the impact across the infrastructure of my gear.

Elise and Jag landed a few strides away. I bolted up the ramp as it was raised, shoving aside a defender at the control panel. Behind me, the man surrendered immediately. Jag dealt with him, though I didn't see how. All of us carried quick restraints in case there was a chance to take our own prisoners for interrogation.

The main compartment was already full, crowded beyond safety regulations with bound and gagged Zalis men and women. A few seemed to be children. None of them wore armor or had weapons.

The door to the cockpit was closed. I snapped out my Reaper blade, jammed it through the crack, and pried the barrier apart. Few things were as satisfying as the wide-eyed terror in the eyes of the two officers piloting the vessel.

“Surrender or die.” My tone said more than my words. “I don't care which.”

Both men raised their hands.

Jag and Elise moved in and placed them in quick restraints.

Heart beating madly, I turned in a circle to see we had already secured our objective. “Decima, give me a status report.”

“We’re holding the perimeter by opposing corners. Don't see any threats, but I've got a bad feeling. Recommend getting the hell out of here quickly,” she said.

“Good call.” I faced the pilot. “I've got a proposition for you. Fly when we tell you, and I won’t have to throw you out when we're piloting this ourselves.”

He bared his teeth, then kicked out with one foot and smashed a section of the controls. Sparks popped into the air. “I know who you are, and you can go to hell!”

Maybe I shouldn't have punched him, but he was easier to deal with unconscious. His copilot agreed to carry the man after a bit of verbal encouragement and a display of my blade.

“This ship is going to burn. I'm not finding fire extinguishers. Apparently, the Oroth Council doesn't place a high value on the safety of slave ships,” Jag said.

“Sarcasm detected,” I muttered.

“Reaper Cain, you know very well that is my line,” X-37 said. “But you are correct. This ship lacks basic safety equipment and Defenders, despite their fleet regulations.”

Elise moved ahead of us, then started cutting restraints off prisoners with her boot knife. I joined in, determined to free more people than she did. Not that I was competing with my protégé turned general. Jag shoved the copilot and unconscious pilot outside and helped us free the remaining prisoners.

“Speed it up, Reaper,” Elise said.

Gunfire sounded in the distance.

“We need some help out here,” Decima said. “Snipers are taking shots, and the civilians are terrible at finding cover. Anyone have experience herding cats?”

“I'm still a bit sketchy on cats and what that expression means,” I said. “But we've got most everyone free and will be out with the rest momentarily.”

“Hastings for overwatch, give us some support. Take out the sniper,” Elise said.

“We’re on it,” Joe the copilot said. “But there is another problem. Enemy ships inbound, and it looks like they’re going to strafe your position. Better get those civilians into a bunker if you can find one.”

“Sure, that'll be easy,” I said as I followed the last of our new friends down the ramp.

17

Smoke poured from the sabotaged shuttle. The Oroth pilot had kicked loose more than just some wiring. The ship just looked sad and useless. To compound matters, the first attack from the Oroth fighters was against their own property.

A pair of rockets streaked toward the former slave ship, then turned it into an expanding ball of flame. I urged everyone to run toward the next street. From a tactical perspective, this operation was a disaster. The group was too large and too close together to avoid becoming a target.

“Sykes, Billiam, try to keep those ships away from us,” Elise said as she ran beside a group of Zalis civilians.

I searched for open doorways, buildings with overhangs, or anything else that might provide refuge. The Oroth fighters blasted through buildings with kinetic rounds and followed up their brutal attacks with more rockets. Flying debris and smoke filled the air. The cries of pain weren't any different from these people.

I opened fire on the next fighter in frustration as high-velocity rounds tore up the metallic asphalt all around me. Elise and X-37 screamed, but I ignored them. Sykes and Billiam returned fire with a vengeance.

“Everyone keep moving,” Naaman shouted in their native language. Decima backed up the tech wizard’s efforts with hand gestures. Jag also urged the locals to run like their lives depended on it.

I pivoted on the balls of my feet, shooting the underside of a passing fighter as it streaked overhead.

“Come on, Reaper!” Elise waved for me to follow.

“They don't want to leave their wounded,” I said, rushing to the side of the fallen man with two children helping him walk. Securing my weapons to my armor, I wrapped pressure bandages around an arm wound and glued shut a laceration on his forehead. His sprained ankle was beyond my ability to fix, and I didn’t have time to wrap it.

I pointed frantically the direction they needed to go. The kids pushed the man to his feet and all but dragged him forward.

“This is stupid, Reaper,” Elise said as she rendered first aid. Jag pulled somebody into a doorway and treated his injuries even faster than I had managed.

Before long we were all performing battlefield triage, most of it bad. Many of the victims had been killed instantly. Unfortunately, it was almost more difficult to motivate their grieving friends and family than deal with the wounded.

I shouted and waved for their attention, and fired several rounds in the air. “Get moving or I'll shoot you myself!”

“We'll come back for the dead and honor them,” Naaman said in their language. Long, painful seconds passed before the bulk of them shuffled away from the kill zone.

Sykes pointed toward the sky. “They're coming around again.”

“Overwatch, are we even close to safety?” Elise demanded.

“They seem to be moving toward a tunnel. Looks like a lot of vehicle traffic used it at one time. Big opening, several lanes. No cars, trucks, or trains now. I don't think an attack from the air will have much effect once you get inside,” Joe said.

“Great. Let's make sure everyone gets there,” Elise said.

“You don't have to tell me twice.” I ran forward, grabbed a slow moving victim, and hefted him onto my shoulder. My companions did the same, carrying the most badly wounded as fast as we could.

I spotted the tunnel the moment I rounded the corner. Nothing had seemed so far away. Running was a generous description of what I was doing. It was more like a fast shuffle. The man I was carrying was heavier than he looked. His lithe frame and medium height concealed a serious solidness that probably came from muscle or bones denser than I had anticipated.

“Remind me to work on my cardio, X,” I said.

“I certainly will, Reaper Cain.”

“Almost there,” Elise said, strain coloring every word. Her Archangel armor made her extremely strong, but physical conditioning and brute strength still mattered. She was tougher than anyone I knew, but I had a size advantage, as did Sykes and Billiam.

“Some of them are veering off toward other buildings,” Jag warned.

“We can't do anything about that. They're free to do what they want,” I said.

Darkness closed in around me as I ran down the six lane highway leading under the city.

“Tell them to keep going,” Elise said. “We're not far enough inside.”

Naaman again shouted in their language, eventually getting reluctant and weary locals to continue a few hundred meters.

I finally put down my victim and let his friends take care of him. Elise did the same and leaned on the wall next to me where I struggled to catch my breath.

“That was fun,” she said.

“Sarcasm detected,” X-37 said.

I motioned Naaman toward us. “Is there a leader to this group? We need to make a plan. What exactly should we do with these people?”

“I'll find out who's in charge,” Naaman said. His eyes look haunted by the casualties the locals had just sustained. “I doubt they see much difference between us and the Oroth forces. More and more of them are slipping away, and they look angry.”

Elise leaned her hands on her knees and shook her head slowly. “We can only do what we can do.”

I knew her well enough to spot her disappointment. She’d become an excellent leader and didn't like failure.

“Fog of war,” I said. “Nothing is fair. The Sovereignty of Oroth is worse than the Union ever was.”

“I don't give a damn about that,” she snapped. “This is why we'll never surrender against the Oroth Council. They’re ruthless. Don't care who they hurt. When I get a hold of Scheid, I’m gonna throat punch him or worse. And then I'm going on to the next Oroth jerk and the next and the next.”

“Solid plan,” I said.

She glared at me for a moment, then relented. “I thought you would appreciate it.”

The next half hour was occupied by more first aid and broken attempts at communication with the people we were trying to help. Some wanted the assistance of the Triumvirate, but many did not. That put us in a tough position.

“We need to prove ourselves,” Elise said. “But I'm not forcing these people to go anywhere. Is the Triumvirate a gang or a militia? I'm having a hard time telling the difference.”

Time passed like a dream as my friends tended to Zalis citizens, reassuring them with gestures if not words, and applied first aid from children to geriatrics. I leaned against the subterranean wall, noticing again that it felt more like steel than concrete. The more I studied the city, the more it reminded me of a giant starship turned inside out. The revelation slipped away just as I thought I had the secret to everything.

I lit a fresh Maglan Continental and relaxed. Post battle emotions could run the gamut. Currently, I felt far better than I should.

“Reaper Cain?” X-37’s voice sounded strange, full of wonder and fear—a neat trick for nerve-ware incapable of true emotions.

“What’s up, X?”

“I think the DK contamination is trying to talk to me.”

Standing up and putting out my cigar would have been the thing to do. Cursing or otherwise showing surprise might have been expected. I blew a smoke ring, concealing my pants-crapping terror even from X. He would have a hard time noticing a change in my biometrics if he was paying attention right now.

“Yeah? That sounds sketchy,” I said.

“Stand by, Reaper Cain.”

“Standing by.”

Time passed. I started to lose my cool. The Maglan Continental grew shorter, which was a rare event. I rarely smoked for long, uninterrupted stretches—usually during slip tunnel travel or in my imagination when I was trying not to go crazy during forced imprisonment.

“Talk to me, X.”

My LAI came back.

“Well?” Curiosity burned hotter than the tip of the Maglan Continental.

“I think it was my imagination, Reaper Cain.”

“You don’t have an imagination, X.”

“Exactly.”

18

“How’s the perimeter?” I asked over our combat channel.

Jag answered. “No Oroth forces yet. Quiet. Naaman and Decima went out for a look around. I’m keeping them in view with optics as much as I can.”

“Let us know if you need relief,” I said.

“Will do, Halek.” His icon faded into the background of my HUD. I removed the helmet and flipped the visor so I could still monitor the screen without wearing it.

“A reconnaissance mission seems like just the thing,” X-37 said, then disappeared to investigate the ghost signals the Darkness Killer, or DK, might or might not have sent him.

I tried not to worry, which meant I burned through another two cigars from my dwindling supply. This was like old times—always on the verge of an involuntary end to my worst vice.

X-37’s dilemma worried me. To my non-scientific brain, anything that communicated with my LAI had to be mechanical, algorithmic. Which meant someone or something created it. If true, that was going to be another big pain in my ass. Memories of the Sansein mother and the fight to liberate Maglan still tied my guts in knots.

Elise returned from her rounds. Jag, Sykes, and Billiam maintained their posts. Naaman and Decima continued their shadow work in the city.

Most of our reluctant friends were patched up to the best of our field medic abilities. Bandages, splints, and light medication got most of them on their feet. Some were willing to talk to us. Others… not so much. One old couple proved scowling was the universal language.

“How are you holding up, Reaper?” Elise asked.

“Just thinking.”

“Oh no. Don’t do that. When was the last time that led us anyplace good?” She held up both hands, pushing away bad luck.

“Whatever. All my plans are brilliant.”

“Moving on,” she said. “Naaman helped me talk to a man named Evantros, who is married to a woman named Evantras, but that is another story. Not sure why they made such a big deal about it, but there it is. Evantros claims there is a deep, well-fortified bunker near the center of the city. He called it the sanctuary, but it sounds like a bunker—possibly strong enough to resist nuclear weapons or planetary bombardment. This language is tough. Now I have the mother of all headaches.”

“It’s different,” I said.

“You have X to help you. I’m a mere mortal.” She scanned the scene, eyes taking in details. The Zalis people who remained seemed ready to work with us. More than half had slipped away to take their chances elsewhere. “A credit for your thoughts.”

I walked with her. “I say keep Evantros close. Converse as much as possible, not just about the big problems, but anything and everything.”

“Build trust.” Elise pointed to a tall, slender man with more gray on his face than black or brown. The vaguely animal structure of his face was graceful, not a trait I normally associated with a person’s looks, but maybe that was my inner brute coming out. “That’s him. I’ll introduce you.”

We approached.

Evantros met us halfway. “No need for introductions. I know who you are and what you have done since arriving in our city. It also seems that General Elise has explained who I am.”

“You’ve got fantastic hearing,” I said.

“True. It is a gift of Evantras.” The man held my gaze without challenging me or backing down.

“Where is she?”

“Everywhere? Do you not understand this world?” he asked.

“Not even a little bit. Explain it to me. Leave nothing out.” I kept my inflection upbeat and my expression cheerful—a relative descriptor on a Reaper like me, but not bad. I could put people at ease when I tried.

“You desire the longest of conversations.” He faced Elise. “Will you accompany us to the sanctuary?”

“Gladly.” Elise shook his hand, causing slight confusion but no hard feelings so far as I could tell.

“When will the attacks cease?” Evantros asked.

I stalled.

Elise answered. “Never.”

Evantros closed his eyes for several seconds.

“But, neither will we. The Oroth have attacked our worlds. My purpose is to drive them back to their own system and be sure they stay there. We seek peace and friendship with the people of Camis Shae and this city,” Elise said.

“Her diplomatic skills have greatly improved,” X-37 said privately. “The modulation of her words and the clarity of her statement could serve as templates for students of the subject.”

I subvocalized my reply for complete privacy. “She’s sharp.”

“Understatement detected and logged,” X-37 said. “My recommendation is to allow her to do most of the talking.”

I pulled another cigar and stuck it in the corner of my mouth but didn’t light it. The Triumvirate had been a tougher crowd, but even they had heard us out.

Evantros looked at me curiously. “Why don’t you enjoy yourself, Halek Cain the Reaper from Maglan?”

“You can call me Hal, or Cain, or whatever you want,” I said. “A lot of people are bothered by the smoke.”

He nodded and let the topic fade. “I have always liked it. Never let it be a concern.”

“Do you get a lot of cigar smoking visitors?” Elise asked.

“No, but Naaman uses a pipe. Is that not similar?”

“I like you, Evantros.” My attention went to Jag, who was heading our way. “News?”

“No, but I think we should move. They could be mobilizing elsewhere in preparation for a major assault,” he said. “We’ve had it too easy for too long.”

I grunted to mask profanity. “Thought you would say that.”

“He’s right,” Elise said. “It is time to be gone. Evantros, where does this tunnel lead?”

“It emerges on the other side of the Yitis De river west of Zalis, but there are more options along the way,” he said.

“Access to your sanctuary?” Elise asked.

“The sanctuary belongs only to Evantras, but yes, we can get there from here,” Evantros said.

“Then what are we waiting for?” I asked.

* * *

I took the lead with Evantros and three of his attendants. Hoods and protective gear concealed their features. Were they soldiers or even bodyguards? Who knew? The young men moved well and were alert for danger. That was enough. Weapons would have been reassuring, but you couldn’t have your cigars and smoke them too.

Elise, Naaman, and Decima stayed with the main group, conversing with elders of the community as we traveled deeper underground. Each tunnel complex was darker and narrower than the one preceding it. Jag and the Archangels brought up the rear.

“You still with me, X?” I asked when I had a moment to myself.

“No, Reaper Cain. I have taken up with a less troublesome host who appreciates me,” my LAI quipped.

“Nice, X. All class. Give me an analysis if you can.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Your guide seems completely earnest. Structural variations of this place suggest the sanctuaries will not be what you expect,” X-37 said.

“Don't leave me hanging. What's that supposed to mean?” I had already noticed there were artificial elements to the tunnels, less paving and paneling and more exposed rock. All that meant was we were going deeper. I'd seen similar passages before.

“I've been analyzing their language,” X-37 said. “I don’t believe Evantras is a person, but the planet, or what they consider to be the life force of this world.”

“Like a religion?”

“Perhaps, but make no assumptions. They deeply revere the planet and trust that it will provide,” X said. “I am factoring this information into the conversation I had with the… code voice that reached out to me.”

“Watch your digital back, X,” I warned.

“Of course. We are dealing with something ancient and mysterious.”

I monitored our guide carefully, then spent some time checking in with Elise and the others. There hadn't been more attacks. For some reason, that made me nervous. If I had to guess, Scheid was waiting for us to find the antidote so he could take it from us. Not exactly a new trick but one I always expected from a devious enemy.

Elise fell in beside me. “What ya doing?”

“None of your business.” I bounced the phrase at her, enjoying her lighthearted mood despite our dire situation. It wouldn’t last, but why not enjoy the good times?

“You’re dying to tell me what you and X have been talking about,” she said. “The people of Zalis are a breath of fresh air. Even those who don’t trust us make time to share kind words. I’m learning interesting things about the city and this planet.”

“Like what?”

“Most of their literature is about exploring inward—you know, journeys to the bottom of the ocean or into the center of the planet. They understand about space travel, but their eyes glaze over when I tell stories about how we got here,” she said.

“You really should work on your storytelling.” I leaned back to avoid a jab to my shoulder.

“I’m a great storyteller.”

“Sure kid.”

X-37 weighed in. “Elise ranks high on seventeen metrics of effective oration. She hits upon important themes relevant to her audience. I noted this from early in your relationship with the young woman.”

“X-37 understands me,” Elise said.

“On the contrary, I have insufficient data to understand any human, not even Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “But I appreciate the compliment and will log it.”

“Tell me something important you learned,” I suggested.

Elise grew serious. “Evantros knows more about the planet than almost anyone. If there is one person who can tell us where the antidote is, it’s him. We could skip dealing with the Triumvirate. Or contact them on our own terms.”

“I like that option, especially since we’re stuck together.” I watched the man caring for the weaker members of the procession. He carried a child while encouraging a wounded man to keep going.

“Team up or try solo negotiations?” Elise asked.

“Solo. If I botch it, you can swoop in and save the day,” I said.

She raised one eyebrow, then gave me one of her signature smiles—cocky and charming at the same time. “Good luck, Reaper.”

I worked my way through the Zalis people on the march. Dim lighting should have made the scene gloomy but didn’t. Not everyone liked the look of me, but they were polite.

“Evantros, can we talk?” I asked.

“That barely sounded like a question, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Treat him like a civilian, not a fellow soldier. And remember he is from a new and unique society with its own rules and customs.”

“That’s the plan, X.”

Evantros passed the child to another Zalis citizen, touched the shoulder of the wounded man one final time, and headed my way. “Are you well, Halek the Reaper Cain?”

I didn’t bother to correct him. “Too good, maybe. I’m worried that Scheid and his Oroth troops haven’t moved in for the kill. We have cover from air attacks but only one avenue of escape if his Obsidians and JFT rushed us.”

“This is a troublesome truth,” he said, looking thoughtful. “They may be otherwise occupied. As much as we loathe the Triumvirate, Glento and his friends often draw away the invaders so that we may disappear.”

“What’s wrong with the Triumvirate?” I asked.

“Nothing. All three of them were important generals before the split. I respect that, but I am a peaceful man. Misuse of the planet’s natural defenses cannot be anything but a crime, no matter if that resource is taken into the void to sustain wars of conquest or kept here to punish local rivals,” Evantros said.

“That is a lot of information,” X-37 said privately. “Keep him talking.”

“I’ve never been a fan of wars,” I said. “Local rivalries always suck. We’re not so different.”

Evantros stared at me like I was an idiot.

“We’re different but the same. You know what I mean,” I said.

He touched his fingertips briefly, then spread his hands.

“I believe that is like shaking your head no,” X-37 said.

“What can we do to stop the wars and rivalries?” I asked. “Maybe we can help.”

“Our problems are none of your business. This insistence on getting involved bewilders me and my peers,” he said.

“What about Evantras? What does she think?” I asked.

“The lady of our world doesn’t talk in such a manner. My people feel her. I am particularly sensitive to her moods. That is why I am who and what I am.”

“Which is?”

He ignored the question. “She does not reject you, which is strange and confusing.”

We walked in silence that didn’t feel awkward. “Thanks for trying to explain all this.”

“Your grasp of the words are better than when we met. I fear that won’t be enough.” He touched his chin with both hands. “When Evantras rejects you, we will no longer walk together.”

“Fingers crossed, that won’t happen,” I said.

He stared at me without comprehension. I slowed to allow him privacy with several older women who wanted to talk to him. Elise joined me.

“Well?” she asked.

“It’s unusual for them to hang out with us. The antidote didn’t come up,” I said. “They don’t like the Darkness fleet or their war of conquest, but they aren’t fans of the Triumvirate and local drama either. We’re tolerated but not loved.”

“Anything else?” Elise asked.

“They don’t understand why we’re helping them.” This was important, though I didn’t know why. So was the rivalry between the Darkness and the three generals wallowing in hideouts like they were crime lords or maybe militia leaders at best.

“I’m going to wait before I try,” Elise said.

I agreed, and we walked in silence, constantly on the lookout for an Oroth attack. Three levels down, the passage seemed to be cut from rock rather than fashioned out of the metallic version of concrete.

“This city reminds me of a ship someone turned inside out,” I said.

“Exactly.” Elise bounced with renewed energy. “I thought that was my imagination. What does X make of it?”

“Inconclusive,” X-37 said. “Parts of this city could be salvaged materials, but only a small percent of the larger metropolis. My analysis also suggests the materials are so old that meaningful conclusions are unlikely.”

“Thanks, X.” I puffed on a cigar, then put it out before it burned down too far.

“I need to contact Billiam and Sykes. Check up, you know,” Elise said.

“Tell Jag I said hi while you’re at it.” I watched her go and wished her well. In our line of work, who knew what would happen next. This might be the last time we talked face to face.

The journey continued with almost no conversation between the locals. I couldn't put my finger on the mood. Solemn wasn't the right word. They were worried but not afraid in the normal sense.

The passage opened into a huge cavern with sunlight shining powerful beams from the ceiling. A village sprawled across a valley of lush grass and colorful wildflowers. More Zalis citizens went about with their work and play. From this distance, everyone seemed happy and energetic in their quiet way.

Evantros waved me closer. “Evantras must approve of you. There are several good omens and excellent light from the surface today.”

“This place is beautiful,” I said.

“Yes. Thank you, Reaper Halek.” He guided me toward the front of the group. “Stand tall so that those who live here see you and aren’t caught by surprise.”

“I can do that,” I said, thinking of which building or field might contain the antidote we needed to defeat not only the Darkness, but Scheid and the Sovereignty of Oroth as well.

19

Evantros assured us that his people could keep everyone safe until there was an obvious threat to the sanctuary. When Elise left the Archangels on guard duty, our guide became angry for the first time and insisted that everyone rest.

“What good is such a place if there is no suspension of worry and fatigue?” he asked. “Or does sanctuary mean something different to you? Please trust us. Your lack of confidence damages our value.”

I consulted the language cheat sheet X-37 provided in my HUD. “We’re cautious.”

“Clearly,” he said. “Now rest. Spend some time together. If you need food, we can provide it and a fire to cook it.”

I gave him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Evantros.”

He examined my cybernetic fist, then bowed before backing away.

Elise gathered the team for a meeting, then sat beside me on a low retaining wall as we waited. Neither of us lowered our guard despite the assurances of our host. “We should split up and send half the team back to the surface to search elsewhere. I’m actually thinking about breaking into pairs to cover more ground.”

“That would put the Archangels on their own. Not a great idea,” I said. “They mean well, but…”

“Jag relates to Billiam and Sykes. He could take the Archangels. Naaman and Decima could contact the Triumvirate again and search the territory they control. You and I could decide if Evantros and this village are worth more time,” she said.

“I could go solo like normal.”

“Not a chance, Reaper. I haven’t decided yet. Exercise patience,” she said.

“Is that what you’re doing?”

She raised one hand to acknowledge my point.

Jag and the others arrived, downed most of their gear, and started eating ration bars and bits of bread the locals had given them.

“General Elise is considering some new options,” I began. “Thoughts?”

Jag motioned for Naaman to go first.

“My best theories have been disproved many times. I know the lay of the land, but my approach has a poor success record,” he said, then looked to his cousin. “Someone else should decide the way forward.”

Decima shrugged. “I don’t see what we’re doing here. None of the locals want to share anything, much less a secret antidote.”

“Pass,” Sykes said.

“I’ve got nothing,” Billiam said. “Unless you want to hunt Obsidians. Got lots of ideas about how to do that.”

“Save that for later,” Elise said. “We’re missing something.”

“She is correct,” X-37 said. “The most likely explanation for Naaman’s failure to find the secret is that he has been looking in the wrong place or for the wrong thing. We are likely making the same mistake.”

My body ached, and my stomach rumbled. I gulped fresh water and ate some of everything my friends had gathered during our hike through the subterranean village. The locals were generous, and their food was packed with both tart and spicy flavors. “As much as I’d love to split up and do some solo work, I vote we stay together.”

Elise paced. “Agreed. When Scheid makes his move, we’ll be outgunned. Teamwork is the ticket.”

Sykes and Billiam repeated the phrase like it was a mantra of the Maglan fleet. “Teamwork is the ticket.”

“Let’s have another go at Evantros, but as a team this time,” I suggested.

“We’ll work on gear and update our maps while you seek an audience,” Jag said.

“It’s settled,” Elise said. “Come on, Reaper. I’ll do the talking this time.”

Elise and I went in search of the Zalis leader, Evantros. Villagers gave us room, often pulling their hoods up to cover their protective masks as they stepped out of our path. Were they embarrassed? Talking about us behind our backs? Or something outside cultural norms I understood?

“For some reason I assumed they wouldn’t need their gear in the sanctuary,” I said.

“Good observation. I bet they don’t even have the antidote, or worse, there is no such thing and we wasted our time and a lot of ammunition. What if all the slain locals died for nothing?” she asked.

“Don’t think like that,” I said. “The air isn’t great right now. They’re smart to cover up.”

X-37 backed me up. “Speculation of such things is better left to me. I won’t feel bad since I have no actual emotions, and very few simulated emotions if we’re being honest.”

“Let’s review,” Elise said. “You first, Reaper.”

“This won’t take long because I don’t know much. When we first met, Jag thought our problems with communication on Maglan were ominous. Looking back, I think he was worried about the Darkness showing itself on the planet. Bad communications are a theme, though they’ve been worse for me than anyone else. I’m not complaining, so just calm down. Naaman tracked the Darkness to this planet, then learned the secret to defeating them was also here.”

“What else?” Elise asked.

“Tempest Cain created a Darkness cult and was about to stage a revolt against Scheid.”

“Look how that worked out for him,” Elise said.

“What did he know that we don’t? Sethorn citizens are orderly, hardworking people. Their behavior during the uprising wasn’t normal. Tempest Cain even converted other Obsidians and JFT to his private cause,” I said.

Elise frowned and held my gaze. “How do you know that?”

“X, can you send her video of the armbands and armor embellishments?” I asked.

“The images will be low resolution,” X said.

“Good enough. Do it.” I moved to my next point. “X thinks there is something about the Camis Shae contamination that affects his LAI functionality.”

“Really?” Elise asked.

“Yes, General Hastings. I have not been able to contact this entity and suspect it is not possible despite my initial optimism and curiosity,” X-37 said. “If you visualized it as the transmission equivalent of a ruined city, you wouldn’t be wrong—like a message that was sent out thousands of years ago and continues to bounce around this system.”

“Can you tell where it originated?” I asked.

“Of course,” X-37 said. “From deep in the planet.”

Elise stared at me. “That’s new. And terrifying.”

“Matches your discovery of their literature, right?” I asked.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Subterranean lore matters greatly to them. Perhaps the secret of the Darkness and Darkness Killer can be found in the same place,” my LAI said.

“Let’s avoid a journey in that direction.” I shuffled old memories farther back in my mental file. “Those missions always suck.”

Evantros walked toward us. His attendants hung back. “Hello, Halek. Greetings, General Elise.”

“Just the man we were looking for,” Elise said.

“You have found me. All is well.” He paused. “Forgive my earlier frustration. I thought like a bad host, though I understand your misgivings. If it makes you feel better, I placed twice as many watchers on the alert for unusual commotion, like an attack from the new invaders of our planet.”

“Your hospitality hasn't gone unnoticed. But I personally appreciate your concern and the kindness of your people,” Elise said. “It pains me that I must be direct.”

Evantros folded his hands and waited.

“We still seek an antidote to DK,” she said.

“The best solution would have been to not remove the substance from this city,” Evantros said. “Strangers to this world fare poorly whether they invade or offer assistance. Part of the problem is that we never used the substance for what your kind seem to.”

“How's that?” Elise asked.

“We never weaponized it.” Evantros motioned toward the village. “We are simple. Our warlike brethren left for the stars long ago, then returned to demand our sons and daughters fight for them, and for our workers to remove more and more of what you call DK.”

“She’s doing well,” X-37 said privately.

I crossed my arms, willing myself not to interrupt her momentum. Instead, I studied the interplay between Evantros and Elise. Their conversation fell into a rhythm. Few of my questions were answered.

“What is the Darkness?” Elise finally asked.

Evantros paused a long time before answering. “It seems we use the term differently. If I am following your logic, and the syntax of the way you speak our language, then you wish to know who is attacking your people and how to stop them.”

Elise smiled and carefully mimicked the man's body language. “That's exactly what I need to know. How can we stop it? What will it take to keep the danger away from our home world?”

“There are no assurances,” he said. “Our society was never militarized until two generations ago. The Sansein attacked many planets, including our home. We fought back but lost every battle. Only when our generals listened to the voice of the planet’s core did we achieve success. But it was hard to stop winning, and our generals soon subdued our allies just as they had those who wished us harm. When that wasn’t enough, they embarked on a never-ending campaign of conquests. From time to time, the fleet returns here. That is how the Triumvirate became outlaws and were forced to hide in the ruined parts of the city. Once they disagreed with the policy of eternal conflict, all three of them were cast down.”

“Tell me more about the voice of the planet's core,” I said.

Elise and Evantros stared like they’d forgotten I was there.

Our host spoke first. “All energies, good and bad, come from that source. You could obtain one part of your antidote from the Triumvirate, and another from us, and other elements from yet some other source unknown to me. Or you could contact the spirit of the planet.”

“Could you guide us?” Elise asked.

“It is forbidden.” Evantros paused to gather his resolve. “But also impossible. Fewer and fewer of my people believe in the forces of the planet. Perhaps that is why we suffer so greatly.”

“We seek the same thing,” she said. “Peace.”

“I fear that will never be known again.” Evantros backed away, then hesitated. “I will help you if I can, if for no other reason than to see what happens. My order has often wondered about the truth of the legends. Does the planet have a voice?”

I didn't have an answer so I kept my mouth shut. Elise shifted uncomfortably.

“Does he know the way to the core?” X-37 asked privately. “My analysis suggests this is a figure of speech. No one could survive an actual journey to the core of any planet.”

“A legend you think, X?” My mind went to a conversation with Jace Hughes and his stories about his early adventures on the no longer mythical Earth. Somehow I thought my experience was going to be substantially different. “Stories grow. I’ll bet a Maglan Continental the journey won’t be worse than dozens of other missions we survived.”

“I love it when you jinx us, Reaper,” Elise said.

“What does this word mean?” Evantros asked.

I butted in. “She’s trying to say everything will be harder than necessary, despite the energetic work ethic of the last Reaper.”

“Ah,” Evantros said. “This does not seem reassuring.”

20

Sleeping during a mission was rare, even when necessary. I’d learned the infantryman's skill of racking out whenever possible. Not gonna lie, I'd been to dreamland while standing up with my eyes open more than a couple of times. But never when I was being hunted by a far superior enemy with a history of wanting me and my friends dead.

The sanctuary was different. It didn't take long to feel at ease, relatively speaking. We took turns napping, then gathered together for a breakfast and brainstorming session.

“We've hashed this out already,” Elise said. “There are two options. Bring Evantros and the Triumvirate together, then convince them it's in everyone's best interest they give us weaponized Darkness, whatever that actually is, and antidotes, or go straight to the source on some sort of mystical quest to find where all of this started.”

“When you put it that way, I know what I’ll pick,” I said.

Jag and the Archangels laughed. My crack got a smile from Decima. Naaman stared toward one of the main entrances to this place.

Locals went to their jobs, mostly small gardens or open-air workshops. Morning sunlight came down through the vents high above, casting a comforting glow over the unique village. Lava tracks decorated the walls with twists and swirls. In places the stonework was dark red, in others black as the void. With the right combination of whisky, cigars, and friends, I could contemplate the beauty of it for hours.

Maybe another time. Peace wasn’t just a fantasy. We needed it, and so did the people who called Camis Shae home.

Naaman stood, motioning us to silence with one hand.

Gunshots rang out. A woman screamed near the south entrance. Seconds later, explosions and screaming filled the air.

Sykes and Billiam were up first, jamming on their helmets as they ran to defend the sanctuary. I moved next, with Elise only a step behind me. We shot away from our morning picnic at a slight angle to address the flank of the inevitable confrontation. Jag and the other Sethorns took the left side.

Uneasiness washed through me. This was the first time Jag and the Archangels had separated since we first started running from Oroth forces. Something about that detail felt wrong, like bad luck.

“I see them,” I huffed as we ran through the quaint streets, dashing past simple cottages with families looking out from the doorways or from their garden plots.

“Find some cover! Hide!” Elise shouted to confused faces.

I repeated the phrase in a slightly less butchered version of their language but didn't check to see if they responded.

“We’re getting close,” I said via helmet comms.

“Yeah.” Elise brought her HDK Maglan Special up to the low-ready position. Raising it a few additional inches would put the weapon on target.

On a street to our left, and slightly ahead, the Archangels slowed to a fast walk and opened fire with their chain guns.

“Too soon,” I grumbled.

Elise seemed to agree, but I didn't hear her complain. The kids were young and prone to beginning fights with everything they had rather than taking stock of what they were dealing with.

“Let's pick up the pace and give Scheid's people something to think about.” I rushed around a cluster of buildings, spotted a flanking element of JFT, and brought one of the Oroth soldiers down with gunfire.

Elise and I disappeared from view. The momentary confusion of our enemies followed but didn't last.

“There are at least two of them,” the enemy squad leader said as he pointed toward my hiding place.

The man was half right. He led his strike team toward me but didn't see Elise ducked below an animal pen not far away.

I stood up and squeezed the trigger, sending several shots their way to hold their attention. They rushed forward and toward better cover as they fired on the move.

That left Elise behind them. She exploited her tactical advantage with brutal efficiency. Combined with my less than gentlemanlike marksmanship, they didn't last long. One man staggered from a wound to his knee. My next three bullets punished his chest and shoulder armor, then burst his visor.

Another fell on his face, the HDK wound Elise dealt him unseen in the chaos. The man’s companion peeked from cover, hesitated, and started forward to pull his body behind cover. He saw me aiming at the last second and retreated too slowly. I tagged him in the earhole of his helmet. Structurally, that was still a strong piece of armor despite the name. In reality, it hurt so bad a soldier wanted to die afterward. I knew that from bitter experience.

“Let's move,” Elise said, dashing toward a new position.

I didn't dwell on our victory. If not for Scheid and the Oroth Council, these men might have been on our side.

“These guys know how to ruin a morning,” I said.

Elise snorted a curse. “That's why I never let myself get comfortable.”

This time I lead the way toward the main force shooting at Sykes and Billiam. I looked for Scheid or anyone familiar. Smoke rolled over the scene. My advanced optics showed me targets, but not much in the way of individual identifiers.

“You looking for Scheid?” Elise asked.

“Yep.”

“If he’s here, he's tucked away behind his goons.” Elise moved her gun across the scene, taking advantage of its optics in combination with her helmet magnification.

Sykes and Billiam retreated one at a time, always covering each other with sustained chain gun fire. That stretched out the invader’s formation.

“Those sneaky kids,” Elise said. “I thought they were just going balls to the wall for no reason, but they set the hook and are reeling JFT and Obsidians in.”

“Still going through ammunition too quickly,” I said, then chose another target.

“Switching weapons!” Billiam shouted as his main gun was pulled onto his back by hydraulics and he brought up a battered HDK Maglan Special.

Three short bursts from Sykes’s chain gun followed before he shouted the same thing.

Jag, Decima, and Naaman attacked from the other side of the battle.

Elise cursed in frustration as Oroth reinforcements poured out of the passage. “They’re too close.”

Naaman stepped out from a natural rock formation, lashed his whip, and dragged a JFT gunner away from his squad. Jag and Decima popped up from behind a rubble heap and fired on a pair of men rushing to the rescue.

Billiam and Sykes retreated faster and faster as armored vehicles arrived and shredded homes and workshops with heavy machine guns.

I fired three times, hitting three enemy soldiers dumb enough to divert their attention toward the main battle. Their friends blasted my position. A round caught my chest plate, staggering me backward. Surprised by the force of the blow, I struggled to identify what the hell they hit me with.

Elise dragged me back. “I don’t know, Reaper, but I’m wishing you and I had oversized chain guns.”

“And air support,” I added. “And two companies of Archangels. And artillery support.”

“I get it, Reaper. I’ll cover you,” Elise said. “We need to fall back.”

I complied without argument, sprinting away from the fight for several seconds before turning and laying down suppressive fire to protect Elise when she retreated. “Covering!”

“Moving!” She ran past me to find a new position.

Two JFT squads pursued us, but most stayed in position to support the main assault force driving deeper and deeper into the sanctuary.

Flames pushed waves of heat toward us. Smoke filled the chamber all the way to the skylights in the ceiling above. Zalis civilians screamed and cried and cursed as the violence escalated.

I moved yet again and stopped behind the stone blocks of a large well. “Elise, move your ass!”

She came running, slid beside me, and popped up facing the way she’d come with her HDK Maglan Special ready. “We need to find Evantros and convince him to lead us to the source, down into the core or whatever.”

“Might be a tough sell.” I hated what was happening and felt responsible for leading Scheid’s kill squad here.

“You’re not wrong about that, Reaper.”

* * *

“Evade and regroup near the north entrance,” Elise ordered on our combat channel.

We limped away from the conflict the moment we had confirmation from everyone on our team. Rockets streaked through the underground cavern.

“What are they shooting at?” Elise asked.

“Terror attack.” I wanted to turn around to teach these assholes a lesson. “Old Union tactic no one talks about—inciting chaos and disorder to unbalance an enemy. The more collateral damage, the more effective the technique becomes.”

The smoke trails twisted into the heart of the village. An explosion followed.

Silence turned the nightmare into something worse. I knew it wouldn’t last. Survivors, if there were any, would be staring in shock. Their wounds wouldn’t appear real, and they wouldn’t believe the bodies lying around them were dead.

“I see Evantros,” Elise announced. “We need him.”

“You hear that, Billiam?” I asked.

“Secure the Zalis neighborhood block, Captain. Gotcha. Sykes also copies,” Billiam said.

“We also see him and the children.” Jag’s voice sounded hard. “Difficult to reach them. Can you render aid and secure the principal?”

“We’re moving that way,” I said.

Elise took charge, issued orders, and kept moving. I watched her flanks and put my armor between danger zones and her as we moved. Some of her radio traffic was on another channel.

“She is conversing with her fleet leaders,” X-37 said. “I advise against interrupting her, as it is a tricky situation. We are not supposed to be here, remember, and there are a few captains looking to remove her from command. Most support her, but that can change quickly.”

“She has comms with her fleet? How is that possible?” I struggled to hear people more than a hundred meters away, no matter what kind of comms they were running—Sethorn or Maglan, it didn’t matter.

“Don’t be jealous, Reaper Cain.” X-37 ran information up my HUD. “Her ability to communicate is nearly as disrupted as yours.”

“Nearly? How is that fair?”

“Her best officers are using the full power of the warships to keep track of her,” X-37 said. “Do you have a fleet?”

“No, X. Or do I?”

“No, Reaper Cain. I would know.”

The day was growing old by the time we linked up with Evantros and rallied my friends. Bodies were strewn around the north entrance we had designated as a fallback point. There had been hard fighting here as well.

Evantros held a bloody rag to his temple. Sad eyes made the coagulated blood stuck to his face horrible to look at. “This is the worst attack in decades. I regret helping you.”

“I wish I could change this.” Elise motioned to the smoke-filled cavern and burning cottages. “Oroth troops do this every time they visit a new world.”

“Should that console my people?” Evantros asked.

“No, of course not.” Elise looked down but rallied quickly. “We’re in this together. I swear I won’t let this happen again.”

“I am not satisfied,” Evantros said. “All is not well.”

“You can say that again.” I regretted the words as he started to repeat the statement.

“We heard you, Evantros. I spoke out of frustration. We should treat your wounded and get who we can to safety,” I said.

He nodded and spread his hands for a half second. “It seems we just did this. Perhaps it is time to seek a new city to hide in.”

“If that is what you need, we’ll help you do exactly that,” Elise said.

Evantros lowered the hand holding the bandage, then hissed at a group of young Zalis residents asking him questions. “Get away. Not now. Hold your tongues. I must talk to those responsible.” On the verge of tears, he forced himself to continue. “We should have left long ago, but my kind are stubborn. The Shae of Camis Shae are legendarily naive and hopeful. Now it seems that hard work and suffering are not enough to drive away the evil lurking just beyond what we see.”

“Analyze that, X,” I said privately.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. My initial assessment is that he is both exhausted and sad,” X-37 said. “And considers himself one of the Shae.”

Evantros stared at me, tears in his eyes. “You want to seek the source of all tragedy. Now I see there is no choice but to guide you there.”

“You mean the place where the Darkness and its counter element came from?” My hands shook like I’d been swimming through ice. Pain, fatigue, and blood loss typically caused the sensation. Today, I suspected the source was something else. The scene had the same feel of the day we faced off against the Sansein mother. I’d never thought that I would look back and think that fight was easy.

Evantros nodded, misery seeping out of his every expression. “The Shae Triumvirate must consent and offer their assistance.”

“Glento and his friends?” Elise asked.

“Yes. We are not on good terms. Your job is to convince them this is the time for the final gambit. Violating the sanctity of the core is dangerous. There are angry things there, forces I cannot explain or drive from my nightmares,” Evantros said.

“Just point us in the right direction, and we’ll handle everything,” I said. “This is what we do best.”

He shook his head and added one of his distinct hand gestures, kind of a knuckle roll timed with the movement of his head. “No. I must accompany you with two bodyguards. Glento, or whichever of his partners goes, will require the same honor. It was written long ago that a noble person must have two bodyguards to survive the journey.”

“You have all of us,” Elise offered.

“That is not the same. Two of my companions, plus Glento and two of his people to protect and attend him on the journey.” Evantros summoned his favorite pair.

“I don’t care who they bring as long as we get after it,” Elise said. “We’re finally making progress.”

21

Jag and Naaman took point, leading the way back to the Triumvirate’s territory. From time to time, they called a halt to talk to locals and gathered information. The rest of us settled into a defensive formation and waited for the go ahead. Slow and steady was always safe, even if it bored me to tears.

The Archangels brought up the rear. Pursuit was a constant danger, despite the apparent withdrawal of Oroth forces. Elise ordered them to keep the cross-talk and banter to a minimum. They complied.

“Your soldiers are more disciplined than ours were, even when we were a united people,” Evantros said when we began moving again.

“Really?” Elise said. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Archangels Billiam and Sykes are good troops, hardworking and loyal.”

“But you are not satisfied with their performance?” Evantros asked, genuine curiosity in his expression.

“Their energy causes problems, but it’s also their greatest strength,” she said.

“Good and bad traits often rely on one another,” Evantros said. “Such is our personal journey.”

“That’s one way to put it,” I said to X-37. Elise gave me that look—the one that said she knew exactly what I was thinking and wanted me not to say it out loud. Don’t embarrass the general, that was the rule.

“Those who put the planet before galactic expansion claim the rights of the Shae. Our warlike brethren use Camis but sometimes claim they have rights to both traditions and name themselves Camis Shae,” Evantros said.

“Thanks,” Elise said with a look my way. “I was just… wondering about the distinction.”

“Forgive me for speaking what is occurring in my mind. Times of travel are good for reflection. Normally I am only accompanied by my attendants.” Evantros appeared thoughtful.

I tried not to sound flippant. “Not the most talkative group.”

“Yes, you noticed. Silence is an underrated quality in a traveling companion,” he said.

Elise hooked a thumb in my direction. “You can say that again.”

“I fail to understand what you are implying,” Evantros said. “Are you unsatisfied with the Reaper?”

“How do I say this nicely.” Elise concentrated for half a second. “Yes.”

“Watch it, kid.” I checked on Jag and Naaman, but not so far I couldn’t monitor Elise’s conversation with Evantros.

“You’re not on good terms with the Triumvirate,” Elise said.

“We maintain a secret radio channel. No one, not even my attendants, must learn of it,” Evantros said. “My cooperation with Glento and the others would not put my people at ease.”

“I won’t say a word,” Elise promised. “Things are similar where I come from. Building a coalition is always challenging.”

Evantros struggled with the translation for a moment, then thanked her. “We have not conversed for a long time. Excuse me while I remember the passwords.” He sent his bodyguards back to check on the Archangels guarding the rear.

“Sneaky,” I said to Elise.

“Politics are the same everywhere,” she said. “This would be a lot easier without complications, but I think we’re moving in the right direction. Which is good, because I am half a day past how long I promised it would take.”

“You’re the boss,” I said.

“Because most of my captains have my back as long as I earn their trust every day.” She stepped away to work on her own secret communications.

I smoked a cigar, alternating my attention forward to Jag and Naaman and back to the Archangels and Evantros’s unarmed bodyguards.

“They should at least have melee weapons,” I muttered.

“I’m back, Reaper. The fleet is moving closer to the planet. A rescue squadron is on standby,” she said.

“Why do we need Triumvirate approval?” I asked.

“Evantros says they have Darkrendul. Without a sample, we can’t get what we need.” She didn’t sound enthused about the situation.

“Why?” I had so many questions.

“He didn’t say, but I think there is another faction, or creature, or something in this place they call the core, and the Darkrendul substance, what we call the Darkness Killer, is all it uses as currency,” she explained. “I thought you were following along.”

“Got distracted by this Maglan Continental,” I said.

“Way better than a Maglan Gold, or so I’ve been told,” she said with a sly grin.

“Watch it, kid. I’m the tobacconist.”

“Okay, Reaper. Whatever you say.”

Evantros rejoined us. “Glento will set up the meeting. Once I swear my attendants to secrecy, we can travel to the meeting place and begin negotiations.”

“Fantastic. What could go wrong now?” I asked.

“Nice, Reaper,” Elise said. “That didn’t feel unlucky at all.”

Evantros mouthed our words, probably struggling with what they meant. “I do not understand the way you talk.”

“It takes time,” X-37 said. “You can ignore a lot of what they say to each other.”

* * *

“We’ve got JFT waiting for us,” Jag said via helmet comms. “You better get up here, Reaper.”

“Why me? Why not Elise?” Jag’s tone had a dangerous feel.

“They painted ‘we need to talk to the Reaper’ on the wall of a storage building,” Jag said.

“I’m heading your way.” I passed the information to Elise, then jogged forward with my D3D at low ready.

“Look sharp, people,” Elise said on the tactical channel. “Totally talking to you, Sykes.”

“She used my name,” Sykes said, oblivious to who was actually linked into his channel.

“Get over yourself, dude. She knows I’m the one who needs reminding,” Billiam said. “I mean, because I’m so awesome.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Sykes sent a rude gesture via HUD, still unaware that both Elise and I could hear their private cross talk—not because we snooped, but because they left it open. These guys were brave fighters but wouldn’t be on the communication security team anytime soon.

Elise sent me a laughing symbol.

“She’s in a good mood, X,” I said.

“That is why her troops love her,” X-37 said.

“And because she wins more than she loses.” I was proud of the kid I liberated from Union custody, now more than ever. “Do like she said, X. Stay sharp. I’ve got a feeling.”

“A bad feeling, Reaper Cain?”

“Not sure.” I slowed, scanned the simple street and nearby structures, then contacted Jag.

“Any change?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Just a face-off from about fifty meters. You want my opinion, these are a cut above the others.”

“Could be JFT Destroyers.” Memories from when I first awoke came back. A squad of hard cases had tried to kill me while I was still sick from a cryo-sleep container on a failing space station over Maglan.

“Never seen one,” Jag said. “Most of my team think that is a bunch of hype. Propaganda put out by the Oroth Council to intimidate us.”

“Let’s find out.” I cupped my hands to the speaker box in my helmet. “I’ll send you a radio link, unless you want to shout.”

The leader raised his hands and stepped forward. “Let’s meet in the middle, out in the open, and talk face to face.”

“Can you cover me?” I asked Jag.

“All day.”

I raised my hands and moved forward. A sniper could drop me with the right weapon. Hopefully Jag would snipe the sniper before that happened. As for meeting face to face, I thought I could handle this guy even if he was a super-secret tough guy for the Sovereignty of Oroth.

Though of average height, the man looked solid. His armor gave him bulk, but not much, which meant he was strong but also trim underneath the gear—just like most professional soldiers. His JFT armor was well worn but also well maintained, as were his weapons. That wasn’t the only thing that made me agree with Jag. This guy walked with easy confidence.

“What’s your name, trooper?” I asked.

He removed his helmet, revealing an old soldier—early forties with buzz cut gray hair, ice blue eyes, and thin scars around one ear. “Commander Jude Carnax, Jump Force Troopers, First Oroth Expeditionary Force.”

“Halek Cain, badass,” I said. “Do I know you?”

“No, but you ran into a friend of mine, Sergeant Roth and his team—Palmer, Green, Techson, and Paulson,” he said, still holding his helmet under one arm.

“That’s not winning you points. They tried to kill me when I was barely awake.” I could practically taste the scene. Nutrient gel had been crusted on my teeth from my long hibernation, and my senses had been out of whack.

“I might have done the same, but that wasn’t what they were sent to Maglan to do,” he said. “You’re losing patience with me, I can tell. So I’ll cut to the chase. Roth and his team were Destroyers like me. Best in the Oroth military.”

“Don’t care.” I pulled a cigar and held it low.

“We broke from the Oroth Council when they allowed Scheid and the Obsidians to subvert our command structure. Roth was looking for technology and weapons to assist our cause. The same reason I’m here now. You don’t want to know the shit we’ve been through to find this place and catch you before you made a mistake,” he said.

“Even if I believed you, it isn’t up to me,” I said but stopped myself from telling him General Hastings was here with only a handful of people to protect her.

“I know more than you think,” he said, not seeming to care about my quasi-rejection.

“Not if you die in the next ten seconds,” I said, lighting my cigar and nursing the ember bright. The taste of it wasn’t bad through the hard skin filter. When I thought about it, that was the most amazing and useful part of the Sethorn tech.

“Threats like that work both ways. My sources say you have contacted both Glento and Evantros. Given the direction you’re heading, I assume you are about to make a deal. Bottom line, we’re going with you. Unless you want to have a gun battle right here. Everyone loses from that kind of attention.” He gripped his helmet with both hands but didn’t put it on. “You’ll need us, trust me. My sources say the masters of this mysterious stronghold have rules. They’re expecting representatives from all sides of the conflict.”

“Bullshit. You can’t possibly have information that good,” I said without thinking.

“I’ve been at this longer than you. My informers are well placed, and my scout teams are the best in the Oroth systems and beyond. My brother was the Camis Shae specialist until the day he died. He taught me a lot—off the record, of course,” Carnax said. “I brought two bodyguards. You’ll find that is what is expected. In your case, I suspect you and one of your Archangels will accompany General Hastings.”

“Whatever.” I read messages from Elise on my HUD. X-37 had patched her into my helmet audio.

“She says make a deal if you trust him,” X-37 summarized.

“I don’t trust anyone, X.”

“She would also like you to speed this up and not cause a scene. We don’t have time for a battle,” X-37 said.

“Great.” I really wanted to give the universe a finger about now.

“What was that, Cain?” Carnax asked.

“How can I trust you?”

He looked me over, then met my gaze. “You have my word. We’re only here to fight the Oroth, not you. And since the enemy of my enemy is a potential ally, I have no reason to betray you.”

“That leaves out a lot of possibilities,” I said. “But I get it. Once we contact the Triumvirate, we’ll decide what comes next. If all parties agree, then we’ll travel together and try some of that old fashion teamwork.”

“Acceptable,” Carnax said. “I’ll be watching you, just in case you try to leave us behind.”

“Good luck.” I rejoined Jag and Naaman.

“Well?” Jag asked.

“He has a lot of information and wants the same thing we want. Expects us to share,” I said.

“Typical Oroth arrogance.” Jag watched the Destroyers like he was ready to fight the moment they made a wrong move. “I don’t have a problem with them. But they are of Oroth, and that means they can’t be trusted.”

“You respect true warriors,” I suggested.

“Of course. Doesn’t mean I like them or want to share a pipe,” he said. “You and I started off as rivals. I haven’t forgotten our game in the woods of Maglan.”

“Back when I had one arm.”

He smiled unexpectedly. “Ha. We underestimated you. I lost a bet when you climbed the cliff with one arm.”

Elise brought the rest of the group forward. “Is someone going to fill me in?”

I pretended she hadn’t been listening with X-37’s help. “Commander Jude Carnax of the JFT Destroyers and his team are rebels. They want in on the Camis Shae action, the weaponized elements as well as the antidotes.”

“How do we test them?” Elise asked.

I put away my cigar. “How about I take them on a raid against Scheid’s people while you negotiate with Glento and Evantros?”

“What if I need you to sweet talk someone?” she asked with a straight face.

“Seriously?” X-37 and I asked at the same time.

“Right. Do your thing. Don’t get killed. Jag, watch his back.”

“I can do that,” Jag said. “Always wanted to take on a Destroyer or three.”

* * *

Carnax listened to my proposal, his face expressionless from start to finish. Several long moments of silence passed. He put on his helmet, then signaled for his Destroyers to move up. “We’re going on a raid. The Reaper wants us to prove ourselves.”

I hadn’t expected much of a reaction, but this was pure stoicism. Neither soldier argued or complained. This close, I suspected they were women—tough women whose armor concealed most of their features but not their basic frame.

“We’ll head back the way we came, then find and isolate one of their squads. They get one chance to surrender,” I said. “Then everyone fights.”

“Is this a good test? No one likes Obsidians or the Jump Force Troopers who tolerate them,” he said.

“It’s a place to start.” I signaled for Jag to lead off. Carnax conversed with his team.

Jag spoke over our private channel. “He’s got a good point.”

“He does.” I kept an eye on the Destroyers until Carnax returned with them in tow.

“This is unnecessary, but we’re ready,” he said.

“Great. Let’s get this over with.” Something about the Destroyers reminded me of Jag and his Sethorn warriors, which led my thoughts to Maglan and the wounded beast like always. I understood the simple predator better than I did most people, all from one meeting under starlight.

“Permission to speak, sir,” one of the troopers said, her voice businesslike and feminine.

“Go ahead, Journ,” Carnax said.

“If we’re going to draw this kind of attention, we better put some distance between us and the negotiations,” Journ said. “Rizz has been working on her conditioning. Shouldn’t slow us down much.”

“Destroyer Level One Tricia Journ,” Carnax said by way of introduction. “Her supremely conditioned partner is DL1 Amanda Rizz. Don’t let them fool you. Unless you live to run, you better set the pace.”

“Got it covered,” Jag said. “And I know a place we can fight without ruining the mission. Try to keep up.”

“Danger, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said privately. “I suspect you are going to be sucking wind very soon.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, X.” I sealed my Archangel helmet. “Let’s do this.”

“You and I stay together,” Carnax suggested.

“Fine by me.” We took off at an alarmingly fast pace. A kilometer later, when I expected Jag and Rizz to ease off the pace, they didn’t.

“I warned you, Cain,” Carnax said. “But you should do well. Being twenty years younger than you were when you arrived on Maglan.”

“I’d like to know where you get your intel.” I spoke between breaths to conceal my discomfort. My darkened helmet visor helped.

“I’d like to know how you defeated the Sansein. We only had one encounter with them during an exploration mission, and we ran the other way. My sources tell me the Darkness is merely one half of the Camis Shae people who made an unholy pact to defeat something they called the Sansein.”

“Your conditioning isn’t bad either,” I accused. “Feels like we’re being hustled.”

Carnax laughed. “You wanted us to prove ourselves. This is how we do things.”

“I don’t care what kind of gym rats you are. All I need to know is that you’re not going to shoot me in the back and take the antidote for yourself,” I said with reasonably little discomfort in my voice.

“I want the same thing. We don’t trust you any more than you trust us.” He went silent in his helmet, either to catch his breath like I was or to talk to his troopers.

“Elise, can you read me?” I asked.

“Barely. Are you running? Sounds like there is a wounded animal in your helmet. How’s it going with our suspicious new friends?”

“They’re trying to kill me with running. Should have sent you to do this. Teach them a lesson.”

Elise laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Going radio silent to contact Glento. I’ll leave my link open for X to monitor.”

“Great. Have fun,” I said. “Because I’m not.”

Jag led us clear of the sanctuary, up steep stairs marked with one of Naaman’s Sethorn symbols, and into an industrial complex spotted with collapsed buildings and rusty landing platforms. Low clouds covered the sky.

“Overwatch spotted this group each time they completed their high altitude patrol,” Jag said. “About a squad and a half. Not sure what they’re doing here.”

“Could be important. How do we know they aren’t a plant in anticipation of our test?” I asked.

“Let’s try surveillance first. Monitor these Destroyers. See if X-37 can hack into their comms without them knowing. Should be easier to spot deception with your LAI eavesdropping,” Jag said.

“I am already working on it, Reaper Cain. Three percent of their encryption protocols and firewalls remain. Allow me two minutes to complete my infiltration and check for counter surveillance,” X-37 said.

“Good work, X.” I jumped into the open channel between us and the JFT Destroyers. “Do you know these guys?”

“No, but I never trust Obsidians with no mission. Why are they here? Better landing zones exist in at least three parts of Zalis. Feels like a trap,” Carnax said.

I evaluated every detail of the scene. “Tell me about it.”

He laughed. “You’re calling the shots, Cain.”

“How close can we get?” I asked Jag.

“If it were just you and me? Whispering in their ears close,” he said.

Carnax pointed toward Obsidian perimeter guards. “There are more of them than it looks like. Check the shadows with optics and scan windows. Definitely feels like a trap.”

“Barely know each other and we agree on a lot of things,” I said.

“A soldier is a soldier.” Carnax stared into my visor. “My team could get just as close.”

“It’s not a competition,” I said.

“It is,” Jag said.

I pointed at the Obsidian officer. “Let’s find out why they’re here, handle business, then get back. None of us want to get left behind when everyone else is enjoying a trip deep into the earth.”

22

“Overwatch spotted six landing zones like this one,” Jag explained.

I studied the scene carefully, aware that we had no room for mistakes. Carnax did the same. We held observations until we’d seen all we could.

“Your military organization differs from Sethorn, but not in the fundamentals,” Jag said.

Carnax nodded along. “Same with our armies. It seems many things are universal, including the span of control. Military units have the same function no matter where you go.”

X made notes in my HUD but didn’t comment.

“Great. Good thing we got that settled. Now tell me why these specific Obsidians are right here, right now when Scheid has his best units out looking for us and generally being assholes.”

Jag exchanged a glance with his lifelong enemy, then continued. “This field doesn’t look like much, but it’s the space above it that matters.”

“We’re in the takeoff and landing path of any ship attempting to reach the sanctuary entrance.” I should have seen it before.

Carnax smiled. “So this was more than just a test.”

Jag gave him nothing.

“There is only one way to crack this egg,” I said. “With bait. Obsidians can’t resist a shot at the last Reaper. I’ll draw them out, but you assholes better swoop in to save the day.”

“We can do that,” Jag said. “But you’ll probably still die.”

“Definitely,” Carnax agreed.

“Thanks for the encouragement. And that’s bullshit by the way. I bring together ancient enemies, and they’re hanging trash on me five minutes later. Did Elise put you up to this?”

“Nah, Reaper. You’re just fun to mess with,” Jag said. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to one of my other cousins back home and bring you into the family. You can run one of my squads or something. Report to me. You’ll love it.”

“That is one thing we don’t have in the JFT Destroyers—nepotism,” Carnax said.

Jag grew chilly, but neither man attempted to kill each other.

“When this is over, I’m retiring,” I said.

“Of course,” Jag and Carnax said at the same time.

“Are you ready?” I asked and got two thumbs-up, or one thumbs-up and a twisty-fist thing I thought meant the same thing.

I snuck away from our observation post in search of the best way to antagonize the Obsidians and their support units. “X, how many of these guys are HC clones?”

“Scanning.” He beeped faint processing noises we’d agreed were useful even if they were artificial. “Based solely on your bad luck, I would say several. Unfortunately, until they open their visors or otherwise reveal themselves, I cannot know with absolute certainty.”

Ten minutes later I was deep into enemy territory. Looking back toward the hidden observation posts of my friends gave me an uneasy feeling. This job looked easier from up there.

“Proceed fifty meters straight ahead, Reaper Cain. They are rolling out ground vehicles. Stealing one should not only antagonize them, but also provide you with an effective means of escape,” X-37 said.

“On it.” I slipped through darkening shadows and searchlights, knowing full well there was more to their perimeter scan. The lights were mostly to flush out mundane threats.

“X, show me where they are using advanced search tech,” I said.

“I am placing a diagram in your HUD. It will need to be larger than normal to be useful,” my LAI said.

I stared through a latticework of grids and icons as I pressed ever forward, but I stopped when the guards swept search tools across each zone.

“They are also using passive detection that requires no movement. You will be detected when you attempt to steal the ground vehicle,” X-37 warned.

I stopped short and stared at a row of lightly armored dune buggies. “I bet they leave these behind, especially if things happen fast.”

“My analysis agrees with you, Reaper Cain. The Oroth forces have resources to burn and won’t flinch at abandoning low value equipment. Expect them to destroy what they intend to leave behind if they have that option.”

“I’m not going to be here for that.” I drew the sword Path gave me and held it in my right hand as I silently deployed my Reaper blade from my left forearm. “This is going to get messy.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. The chance of them surrendering the vehicles without a fight is zero,” X-37 said.

“This is a new thing with you,” I muttered.

“What thing, Reaper Cain?”

“Your certainty. I can’t remember a time when you gave absolute numbers like that.” I talked inside my helmet, but most of my attention was on slipping past the guards. If not for the passive scan X mentioned, I would be able to steal the cars without killing the guards.

If wishes were cigars, I would smoke all day.

“Simplicity is useful, Reaper Cain. I am attempting to give you a godsdamn break.”

“Thanks.” I hesitated. “I’m gonna run for it.”

“You are not fast enough,” X-37 said.

“Watch me, X.” I broke from the shadows like a charging beast—no shouting challenges, warnings, or taunts. Honestly, that made it boring, but I had a job to do. My gut told me these Obsidians were just normal dudes or dudettes assigned to a crappy detail—low level soldiers guarding the rear and the gear.

One man fired. I cut him down and smashed him out of the way. The others scrambled but hesitated to create a crossfire to shoot at me in the middle of their inner perimeter.

“Almost. There.” I loved it when I was right.

“Careful, Reaper Cain.”

Three new Obsidians rushed down the ramp, one with a sword, another with an axe, and the last man with a deadly hammer.

“Shit!” I angled for the guy with the hammer out of instinct. “Little help, Jag!”

A sniper round dropped the swordsman. Another struck the axe wielding Obsidian but only staggered him with a glancing blow to his helmet.

I leapt at the hammer guy, intent on taking off his head with Path’s father’s sword.

His swing appeared slow but quickly built momentum before catching me in the chest. The force smashed me out of the air. I saw stars, felt my lungs spasm, and probably peed a little if we’re being honest.

Landing flat on my back always sucked. It felt like injury added to insult. “Can’t breathe.”

“Just get up, Reaper Cain. Or do you want me to capture this incident on video and show it to Elise?”

“Piss off, X.” I rolled clear of the next hammer strike, then slashed at his legs with the sword.

He hopped over my attack.

I climbed to my feet and thrust my arm blade into his side. He retreated a step, cursing inside his helmet.

“Watch my back, X!” I needed to see the rest of the fight. What good did it do to finish hammer-boy just to get beheaded by axe-man or shot by someone else?

I wanted to know where all the pieces were in this shitshow but didn’t have time to look—or check anything X sent me, but whatever.

I slashed, stabbed, and slashed again as I advanced. My opponent swung his hammer in a circle above his head for momentum. I kicked him in the pelvis, knocking him onto his butt. The hammer attack crumpled.

“Godsdamn Reaper!” he cursed.

“Finish him,” X-37 said.

I thrust my arm blade through his visor, then slashed across his neck protection with the sword. Blood arched in two directions, a lot of it spattering me.

“Wow, X. Can you sound a little more psychotic?”

“I assumed you needed motivation. You haven’t shown the same gusto lately.”

I moved for cover, counting down Obsidians as I went. “Whatever. I got it done, didn’t I?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Well done. All three of the surprise HC clones have been terminated. Other Obsidian forces are closing in. Please run away.”

“I’m not running, X. Just changing venues.”

“Of course.”

I stole the first buggy I reached. The engine lacked a satisfying roar, probably because it was made for stealth. All the speed was there, however.

I flew past Oroth soldiers who seemed to feel obligated to shoot at me. The vehicle’s armor was better than expected but wouldn’t last long. “I think I have their attention, Jag.”

“You do, Halek. I’m impressed. We are preparing an ambush. Continue on your current heading and let us do the work.”

“How are the Destroyers doing?” I asked.

“No complaints. They are highly skilled and true to their word so far. I wouldn’t want to have them as enemies,” Jag said.

I concentrated on driving. Shortly after I broke free of the Oroth controlled landing zone, Jag and the Destroyers caught my pursuers in a vicious ambush, ending the pursuit in less than a minute.

“Give me an update, X.”

“I am displaying statistics only. Video and sound would require too much bandwidth for too little gain. Suffice to say, this Obsidian LZ was wrecked and will require substantial reinforcements.”

I raced into the shadow of a building and ditched the smoking assault buggy. “Would have liked to keep that.”

“It was not meant to be, Reaper Cain.”

“Jag, I’m headed your way,” I said.

“Stay where you are.” He flashed an infrared light at me, showing how close they were to my position. “We’ll come to you. Safer that way. Carnax’s bodyguards are running the flanks. Damn professional team.”

“Great. Everything after this should be easy then.” I liked to jinx everything from time to time to keep life interesting.

* * *

The trip back to the Triumvirate meeting felt like a training march where the instructors were just being dicks. My head hurt. I couldn’t pull enough water from my armor, and I wanted a nap. Right after a whiskey and a Maglan Continental. Damn those things were growing extra addictive.

Jag fell in beside me. “That was fun, Reaper.”

“Glad you found it amusing. Let’s trade places next time.”

He let out a big, warm laugh and slapped me on the back. “I can’t wait. My only regret is that this adventure isn’t in the direct defense of Sethorn.”

“What do you think your scientists would make of the alien tech here? That's what it is, right?” I asked.

He grew somber. “Well, that’s one way to describe it. Our science teams could do a lot of good here, not just scavenging weapons. The Camis Shae people are fascinating and strange. I’d like to know more about them, maybe spend some time here when life and death isn’t on the line every day.”

“Sounds great. Good luck with that,” I said.

“What do you want to do when this is over, Halek?” he asked.

I thought about it for several strides, almost forgetting he was there for a second. “I’m ready to go back to Maglan. Maybe spend some time off the grid. Get back to nature.”

“I like that plan. Solitude and nature mix well.” He went to talk to Carnax for a while.

“Sincerity detected,” X-37 said.

23

Elise pulled me aside for a private conference the moment we returned.

“Thanks for the rest break. Very thoughtful.”

She cocked her head and hit me with an insincere grin. “You don’t need a break, you need a kick in the pants. Now listen. This is important, and pretty horrible.”

“You’ve got my attention.” My HUD filled with X-37’s speculation on where this conversation was going. After all this time, he still didn’t understand what I used from data like that and what I ignored. Still, it was comforting to know my LAI jumped on everything Elise said with a critical, super-powered analysis.

“Why do you think they insist on each VIP having two bodyguards? Keeping in mind they have to be completely loyal fanatics ready to die for their Maseenluk, which means master or boss, I think. Possibly top of the litter or something else weird,” Elise said.

“Hey, kid. I’m gonna need you to slow all the way down. What are you talking about?” Realization creeped into my thoughts even as I complained.

She put her hands on her hips. “Willing to die for their master? Come on. Don’t you see it?”

I thought I did. Exhaustion urged me toward a nap and a good book. This mission was too much. “Did Evantros actually say the bodyguards had to be sacrificed to make the Darkness and its remedy work?”

“Yes, Reaper. He said it exactly like that.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “He worded it differently. Of course. But that is what they expect. I had to improvise. Tried to tell them you counted as two people so I don’t have to sacrifice my Archangels or Jag or something.”

“That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, kid.”

She punched me in the arm. “Get serious. This is a problem.”

“X, work up a recipe for blood replacement. See if this ritual has any basis in biology and can be handled with a little modern chemistry,” I said.

“Of course, Reaper Cain. It warms my black LAI heart to see you embrace science and reason over blood sacrifice.”

“Wow, X. Just. I can’t follow that.”

Elise stared in complete silence for almost two seconds. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Well, I am the most brilliant Reaper in the galaxy.”

“You are the only Reaper in the galaxy, Reaper Cain.” X-37 paused to allow Elise a chance to argue, but she had other things on her mind. “I’m not counting the Halek Cain clones, of course.”

“Those guys are jerks. Except for Tank. He’s less of an asshole than five or six people I’ve met. What’s his status?”

“Unhappy and swearing vengeance against the son-of-a-void traitor who put him in the storage locker,” X-37 said.

“Elise, I’ve got a solution.”

She waved an I’m waiting gesture.

“Tank’s pretty expendable. Just in case we have to go through with the sacrifice thing.”

Her curse rambled for quite a while. “You’re not right in the head, Reaper. That’s kinda psycho.” A pause. “I’ll send the Archangels to the ship and get him involved, if you’re sure you don’t want Jag or one of the Archangels as your second. But you’re responsible for the brute. I don’t trust any Reaper but you,”

“Ah,” I said.

She punched me hard.

I retreated a step to smoke a cigar while the chance existed. “The rules said you have to bring two bodyguards. I didn’t hear a limitation to two. Let’s roll down to the core like bosses. Bring the entire gang of misfits. See what happens.”

“Works for me, Reaper. I’ll have my team gear up the brute and get him down here. And by the way, we won’t be walking. Glento has a vehicle design specifically for traveling to the core.”

“I’m sure it’s real nice.” The cigar tasted fantastic despite the hard skin filter, probably because it was my last one and I just didn’t know it yet.

* * *

Glento’s bodyguards were Kitok and an awkwardly tall Zalis man named Perus. Both kept their protective gear on so I didn’t get a good look at their faces. All I knew was that Kitok was more important than I’d realized when we first met the man. Commander Jude Carnax of the JFT Destroyers had Tricia Journ and Amanda Rizz, both women seeming unconcerned with being sacrificed—and to be honest, I didn’t see how they could be. The core of the planet would probably spit them back out. Evantros had two of his attendants who still weren’t named and never showed their faces.

Didn’t talk much either, but who cared. None of us were here to socialize, except the Archangels. The young men tried to chat up everyone, including the Destroyers, who gave them nothing.

The planetary diver, as it was called, apparently, was the ugliest machine I’d ever seen. The front end was covered with industrial sized drill bits and waste removal chutes to the rear of the vehicle. As for color, dirty was a color. Brown, gray, red? I couldn’t decide. This thing had been put through about five decades of abuse from the look of it.

“Aren’t there tunnels where we’re going,” I asked. “Do we have to dig?”

Glento smiled beneath his mask, which looked weird with the ritualistic expression frozen on the exterior of the filters. “Not all the way. You think all we do is skulk in the shadows? My people have been working to fix this since long before the Darkness fleet banished me to our broken home world.”

“They also dumped Kaiza and Molon,” I said, more of a test than because I cared about the details.

He waved away my mention of the other two thirds of the Triumvirate. “We’ve been boring new tunnels for decades, since even before I returned to take proper charge of things. Some efforts have been in search of the secrets of the core and the Darkrendul, and others seeking more mundane wealth. Were we ready for this right now?” He shrugged and lifted his hands high.

I thought the gesture meant resignation, but like everything else about their way of communicating, I suspected I might be reading his meaning inaccurately.

“Okay, Glento. I hear what you're saying.” His disregard of his supposed allies bothered me, though I couldn't say exactly why. Maybe I was just built differently, loyal, obligated to give credit where credit was due. This guy seemed to be in charge but was also dangerously vain.

We gathered into the diver, then strapped crude seatbelts around our waists and across our torsos from one shoulder to the opposite hip. I hunched forward to keep my head from rubbing the ceiling. “I've always wanted to travel to unknown depths in a metal box that smells like grease and body odor.”

“Adjust your filters,” Elise said. “That's what I do around you and your cigars.”

“Ha ha. You think you're pretty funny?” My question went unanswered, as expected.

There was no intercom from the pilot, or driver, or whatever. No warnings, no safety briefings, just roaring engines and jarring movement.

“I believe we are traveling horizontally, most likely en route to the vertical passage this thing or others like it has created prior to our arrival,” X-37 said.

I nodded along and wished I could smoke, or take a nap, or maybe both. For the next twenty minutes, I played with the idea of a cigar nap even though it was obviously impossible and senseless, if I was being honest. What was the point if I wasn't conscious to enjoy the satisfying ambience of a Maglan Continental.

I really needed to learn the secrets of those things for my own brand.

The back end of the diver tipped up abruptly, hanging us all from our seatbelts. I grabbed handholds and spread out my feet. My cursing mixed with the complaints of my companions.

The diver slammed into a wall on our left, then our right, and then accelerated alarmingly.

Elise stared from her bench across from me. “Are we… falling?”

“Mostly,” I said. “Can't you hear the exterior of this thing scraping the walls? That has to slow us down to a nearly survivable speed.”

Glento raised a hand, urging everyone to listen. “Calm down, everyone. This is normal. The deceleration process has never failed.”

“What exactly is the process?” Jag asked.

“A curving of the tunnel passage onto a horizontal plane,” Glento said. “Or that is what my engineers explained to me. I was having dinner with wine, so I didn't pay that much attention.”

“Good enough for me,” I said. And it was, for the first five minutes. Falling down a mineshaft, even in this delightfully primitive box, quickly lost its novelty. I cursed inwardly after ten minutes and couldn't believe we’d been moving so fast for so long.

“I cannot accurately gauge our speed and thus am unable to estimate the depth we have penetrated,” X-37 said.

“I'm not sure I want to know, X.” I’d been in control during other journeys below ground, climbing stairs or risking elevators. The closest thing I'd experienced was the trip to the center of Dreadmax, which seemed luxurious and safe by comparison.

“Hey, Reaper,” Elise said on a private channel.

“Yeah?”

“Keep me away from Glento when this is done, because I'm going to kill him,” she said.

“Sure, kid. I'll try.” It was hard to commit to the job because I was having my own fantasies about punching the Triumvirate leader.

The diver slammed into a wall, shaking everyone side to side. Billiam and Sykes let out a whoop and pumped fists into the air. No one joined in.

Deceleration wasn't as much of a relief as I’d hoped it would be. Dust floated in the air, hopefully from cleaning issues rather than vehicle maintenance problems. I could easily imagine that the powertrain was grinding itself to metal flakes.

“This is going to be a long trip,” Elise said. “Especially if my Archangels keep embarrassing me.”

“You could always join in, kid.” I laughed at the look on her face.

“Please, Reaper, I’m a general.” She pumped one fist in the air and shouted, “For Maglan!”

24

Not all of the trip was an express ride to hell. Whenever the diver traveled horizontally, it crawled like a wounded animal, engines and drill bits complaining loudly. When it was forced to redrill a collapsed section, we barely moved at all.

I took naps when I could, dreaming of Maglan and the tobacco farm I planned to cultivate.

Elise nudged me, then poked her chin toward Billiam and Sykes. The Archangels sat facing the JFT Destroyers, Tricia Journ and Amanda Rizz. Commander Carnax’s bodyguards had their helmets off while we planned the mission, as did the rest of us. Evantros and Glento agreed it was a good time for fresh air and would be foolish not to take it in.

Journ and Rizz had long hair braided tightly to their scalps but buzzed down above their ears. Each woman had a lip ring but on opposite sides of their mouths. Tattoos crawled up their necks, barely showing above the collars of their under armor.

“Sykes and Billiam look clean cut compared to these ladies,” I said quietly.

“Five cigars says the boys get tattoos as soon as the mission ends,” Elise said. “Something fierce with winged skulls or coiling snakes—you know, to make their biceps look bigger.”

“I’m not here to lose cigars on stupid bets.”

“Chicken,” she said.

“I don’t even know what that is. X, help me out here. “

My LAI made horrible sounds in my ear, something like bwuak, bwuak, bwuaka, bwuak, bwuak.

“What the actual hell, X?”

“That is the sound of you, the chicken, Reaper Cain.”

I presented Elise a rude hand gesture. “You two set that up.”

Her eyes glowed with mischief. “Maybe.”

“Man those are some tough broads.” Carnax’s bodyguards actually scared me. Images of getting my ass kicked right before getting pushed through an airlock came too easily to mind. “I really hope your boys don’t get any dumb ideas after this is over.”

“What, you think there will be a celebration? We have to survive first,” Elise said. “And if we make it that far, who cares who is dancing with who. Know what I mean?”

I surrendered with a shrug.

Glento unbuckled his harness and stood near the door to the cockpit. “Listen, everyone. We are very close. The diver has taken us most of the way there, but we will need to proceed on foot. Each of you has been selected for your outstanding courage. Fortify yourselves, because this will be a mighty challenge.”

Elise leaned closer to me. “Sounds like a prepared speech.”

“Sure. Try not to ruin his moment.” I waited for X-37, or even Elise, to comment on my sarcasm, but neither did. Glento almost seemed sincere, like this was something he’d been waiting for most of his life. Maybe he had. What did I know?

Evantros remained silent but watchful. His nervousness bothered me. I didn't know what I was getting into, so it was easy to push worries away until the action began. The man from Zalis looked dour. If his face wasn't covered with dark fur, he’d probably look pale. Reading body language was always a problem here.

“Jump in any time, X,” I said.

“Are you seeking to evaluate the body language of your companions?” My LAI asked. “If your eye movements are a good indicator, you've already seen what I would alert you to. Glento may make poor decisions because of some perception of glory and honor to be gained through this adventure. Evantros is a civilian. My analysis suggests he is less concerned with those things, but there is more to his reticence. He's worried about what will happen next.”

“That's what I thought, X. Send a summary to Elise’s HUD.” I ran through my gear, then checked our motley crew one last time. Everyone from my Sethorn friends to Glento’s bodyguard team. Tank remained as far away from the rest of us as possible in the tiny space.

He stared between his feet, his visor darkened to maximum opacity. We hadn't been able to find Archangel armor for him, or any complete set of gear. Elise and the Archangels had scavenged bits and pieces of everything, then borrowed carbon fiber from the locals to make him an outfit that was half protective plating and half hazmat gear.

I closed and sealed my helmet. “Tank, how copy?”

“That you, Bio?” he asked.

“Yeah, we are on a one-to-one line.”

“Your LAI can listen to us. You know I got one too. You ain't so much better than me.” The man wasn't looking at the floor now but staring directly into my visor, ignoring everyone else in the small space.

“Not a competition,” I said.

He didn’t reply.

“We are after the same thing, an antidote and a way out of this mess,” I said.

“I'll do my part. Don't worry about that.” He went back to staring at the floor between his feet.

“What can you tell me about his LAI?” I asked.

“I haven't been able to contact it directly, if that's what you're wanting,” X-37 said. “I believe, through indirect analysis, that it is very limited and possibly more of a hindrance than a useful tool.”

“Like my CIM back in prison?” I asked.

“Quite possibly. He may be ignoring it,” X-37 said. “Though difficult, this could render an LAI useless by turning it into little more than an annoying voice in your ear.”

“No wonder he's always in a bad mood.” The thought gave me chills. What kind of insanity would that feel like, an unwelcome voice in your brain twenty-four/seven. Worse, an antagonistic LAI might be able to manipulate hormones and biofeedback loops like X-37 did. Things could get really ugly for the big guy.

The diver came to a complete stop. Glento led his bodyguards outside. Evantros and his people went next.

I looked to Elise and Jag, waiting for either of them to give an order.

“We'll bring up the end of the column,” Jag said.

“All right, Reaper,” Elise said. “And you two jackwagons. I mean Archangels.”

“We’re her favorites,” Billiam said, then fist bumped Sykes.

We moved away from the ship and set up our own defensive zone because neither Glento nor Evantros had seen to it. I didn't have to tell Elise or the Archangels what to do.

When Jag, Decima, and Naaman came out, they also did their part. Commander Carnax and his bodyguards moved well and took good positions.

The cavern quickly drew my attention. Without advanced optics, I’d be completely blind. X-37 confirmed there were zero sources of light, not even fungi or other subterranean modes of illumination. I'd seen it all during our adventures. This blackness was intimidating.

But there had been light once, or the people who built this place had some way around blindness. Buildings had been carved into rock walls, roads curved across the open space in artistic patterns. Closer inspection revealed they had been built upon old lava flows.

“What do you think, Reaper?” Elise asked.

I moved forward, pointing my helmet toward a structure that didn't fit. “This is different. A research station?”

Elise joined me. “What does X think? It definitely varies from the carved buildings and the walls and rock formations.”

Natural support beams towered above us, turning this strange metropolis into a forest of rock spires that disappeared beyond the range of my helmet optics.

“I agree with Elise,” X-37 said but seemed preoccupied.

“You okay, X?” I asked.

“I am hearing whispers again, possibly from the Darkness or the Darkness Killer,” my LAI said. “There is something interactive about these elements. Proceed with caution, Reaper Cain.”

“Well?” Elise asked.

I waited for X to say something more, then filled in Elise. “He agrees, basically. Let's get this done and get out of here. There is literally nothing good about this mission.”

“Especially if we fail.” She gathered Jag and Carnax into a conference.

I followed along but most of my attention was on the environment and my limited artificial intelligence. Getting out of here wasn't going to be easy.

“Glento, I've got a question,” I said.

He bowed slightly and spread his hands. Everything was ceremonial with him lately. “Speak it.”

“How do we get back to the surface. The diver doesn't look like much of a climbing machine,” I said, then pointed toward a row of other discarded divers on one side of the cavern.

“You saw that, did you?” he asked.

Behind him, Evantros looked nervous.

Glento lowered his voice. “Once the ritual is done, it is said that thermal updrafts will carry us home.”

A chill went up my spine. X-37 was jolted from his distraction.

“That statement could have dozens of interpretations,” X said privately.

I pressed the issue. “What exactly does that mean?”

Glento grew nervous. “Well, I suppose it means that those who were not sacrificed to activate the final delivery of Darkrendul and its counter elements will use modified balloons or gliders to ride the updrafts. That is what happens in many of our stories.”

“Sounds neat,” I said. “Why don't we take a look at these and see how many people they can actually carry.”

He looked back toward Evantros, then returned his attention to my hard gaze. “No one is allowed to see the sacred mechanisms before the ceremony. Do you have no faith?”

“I have faith in what my fist will do to your face if this goes bad,” I said.

Fear and indignant rage competed for control of his expression.

“We must continue or all is lost,” Glento said, then retreated hastily.

I was still scowling when I reached Elise. “Remember that worst mission ever?”

“Please don't tell me this is going to replace it,” she said. “Dreadmax has always held that spot for me, even if some of our others were technically more dangerous.”

“Glento, the miraculous genius he is, doesn't really know how we get back to the surface,” I said. “Apparently there are some sort of thermal shafts with balloons, but he's never seen them. According to that idiot, the ritual will reveal a way home for whoever wasn't sacrificed.”

“Godsdammit,” she spat. “Why didn't you beat the truth out of him before we came down here?”

“Because you didn't ask me to.”

“Not my fault,” she said.

“Is.”

“Is not.”

“Whatever. X, I need your full attention. Move ‘escape from the core’ to the top of your list,” I said.

X-37 beeped several times before responding. “We are nowhere near the actual core of this planet,” he said. “Please use more precise language in the future.”

“Someone's cranky.” I motioned to Jag and Carnax. We needed a new plan.

“Do you remember that time you thought I was going to expire but wouldn't tell me because it would shut me down?” X-37 asked.

“Yeah, as long as answering doesn't screw you up again, I remember,” I said.

“I have put that behind me, Reaper Cain. But do you remember the time I went to war with Necron, the ship AI for the Nightmare?”

“What's your point, X?”

Elise, Jag, Carnax, and all the others stood watching me talk to my nerve-ware. They knew something was up. None of them cracked jokes or asked questions.

“This is… Far… Worse.”

“X, talk to me,” I said.

Nothing.

“So help me, X, if you don't answer me, I'm going to put you in digital timeout when this is over.” The moment passed slowly, and I realized I was holding my breath.

When I finally faced Elise, her face was full of concern.

“X is under attack. He told me it was worse than fighting Necron,” I said.

“We'll make do without him and then have Necron and Jelly and anyone else we can round up go to his rescue,” Elise said.

I nodded and let her take charge of the mission. It was hard to think, much less make decisions or appear decisive. I felt empty.

My LAI had warned me that a voice spoke to him. He didn't show fear, couldn't in fact. Maybe that's why I hadn't foreseen the danger. What kind of friend was I?

Glento, Evantros, and their delegations went first, not looking like they were ready to fight. I hoped nothing attacked, because anything living down here had to be monstrous. The buildings were twisted and strange, with large doors and larger windows. In places there were caves that looked evil. Huge, twisted footprints were melted into the surface. I didn’t want to learn what made them.

“Everything down here gives me the creeps,” Elise said. “Even the way the floor slants is wrong.”

“You can say that again.” I constantly felt like I was leaning to my left but could see that Elise was overcorrecting to her right. It wasn't slippery, not exactly, but just hard to balance on.

Jag, Decima, and Naaman moved on our right. Carnax and his Destroyers moved on the left, often climbing over obstructions or ducking through small alcoves to make their way forward. Billiam and Sykes brought up the rear with their fully reloaded chain guns.

“This place doesn't look like anything a humanoid would build,” Elise said.

“Seems like Glento’s ancestors might have made their way down here to contact the locals,” I said. “Maybe they didn’t get along.”

“You make it sound like a neighborhood meeting.” Elise pointed toward our destination, a massive opening to what looked like a shrine of some sort. Lava swirls made surprisingly symmetrical stairs leading to a section of blackness made darker by glowing lava around it.

“I was going to say they came down here to worship demons.” I waited for X-37 to chastise me for my imprecise categorization of new life-forms, but he held his silence.

“Remind me not to put you in charge of first contact scenarios,” Elise said. “Let's get up there with Glento and Evantros. I think it's game time.”

25

“We must enter and put our lives into the hands of the planet,” Glento said. “Nothing is more pure than the core of the earth.”

“Except we are nowhere near the core,” I said.

Everyone looked at me. The locals still wore their masks, but I could feel their contempt through their body language.

“I'm just saying.” The urge to smoke a cigar was strong, but I stayed professional. Terror had a way of keeping me focused.

“If that's the way we have to go, then let's do it right,” Elise said. “My team will lead, unless anyone has objections.”

“We’ll do it,” Carnax said.

Jag held up one hand. “Naaman and I have more exploration experience than all of you put together.”

Glento stomped one foot. “It is my right as the first of the Triumvirate.”

Billiam and Sykes faced him, their chain guns pointed up, but remained conspicuous. The Destroyers fell in beside them, their weapons also ready. Not one of them spoke.

Glento's bodyguards flanked him but lacked the same intimidating effect.

Elise clapped her hands together. “Right. It’s settled. Come on, Reaper.”

I fell in beside her, and we strode into the cave. The Archangels followed, giving everyone a warning look as they covered us.

Heat raised the temperature of my armor immediately, but not to dangerous levels. “Hey, X. I could use some help monitoring this environment.”

A pulse of static suggested my LAI was still around but unable to make contact.

Elise measured my expression and spoke in a low voice on our private channel. “We could wait for a bit, stall. I'm almost as worried about X-37 as you are.”

I stopped and looked around, taking my time like any good operator in a dangerous environment where speed, surprise, and violence of action weren't immediately necessary. Stalling was an art I hadn’t practiced for a while.

Jag took the initiative, stepping forward. He pointed at Elise, then me. “The three of us go first, no arguments.”

Glento shook his head and waved his hands energetically. “No, you are the delegate from your planet. You have two bodyguards.”

He strode forward and pointed toward dimly glowing symbols above the arch of the cave. I stared in fascination, surprised I had missed them on first glance. Perhaps I had been too worried about getting shot or eaten to see the fine details of this massive shrine.

“These circles are full. Match them to our delegations. Me, Evantros, General Hastings, Commander Carnax, Jag of Sethorn, and one other.” Before I could respond, he warned me back with one hand and also gave Tank a dirty look. “It is not you, Reaper. And it is not the big one either. Do not ask me how or why, but it is written right there. Six seekers are required to complete the quest.”

“The images came to life while you were arguing, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“You're back, X!” In my excitement, I flung the words out into the open.

“Of course I'm back, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Now listen, you are not the only expedition in search of this shrine. General Scheid and his Obsidians may have arrived first. In the best case scenario, you will have beaten them to the objective and departed before they arrive.”

“You've been busy,” I said. “Have you analyzed my visuals? You’re talking like you’re not here yet.”

“I will explain later, but I did get some information from the artificial entity that assaulted me. There is a Darkness AI of sorts, and she is wary of all intruders. Drakainis, she calls herself. Her agents—don’t ask me how that works—have been tracking you and also Scheid’s expedition.”

“I’m glad you’re back, X,” I said. “But you’re wrong. Scheid is nowhere in sight.”

“Sykes, Billiam. Backtrack. Be careful, but find me Scheid’s delegation if they exist,” Elise ordered immediately. She looked my way, then took over. “It looks like I have two more sacrificial bodyguards.”

“I’m no one’s sacrifice,” Tank grumbled, beating me to the punch. My sarcastic response went unsaid.

“Should we wait?” Carnax asked. “Tactically, I don’t like moving forward while your people are checking our rear, but it might be best to do this before we have to fight the Obsidians.”

Elise and I exchanged a look, then communicated with barely visible head shakes. I didn’t even need that much. Just looking into the kid’s eyes told me what I needed to know.

“You’ve got a point,” I said. “But let's slow down for a few minutes. Refine the plan.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth, Reaper,” Elise said.

Jag concurred, which left only Glento and Evantros, neither of whom were forceful enough to override our vote. Glento was an aging general and a proud man, the head of a militia-like cabal of outcasts, but lacked the gumption to face down Elise, much less the others.

We gathered close while Glento and Evantros loitered nervously on the stairs to the mouth of the giant cave shrine.

“Glento obviously thinks he is in charge,” Elise said in a controlled tone just for our huddle. “We could allow him to maintain that illusion, but we are dealing with the unknown. What if there is only one prize, and he takes it?”

“We can't allow that,” Carnax said.

“And who goes first? Keeping in mind that might be dangerous. The first delegation to enter could be burned alive or whatever the creatures living in this place do to intruders,” Jag said.

“Glento has decided to join this discussion,” X-37 warned.

I covertly pointed to our new guest.

Elise turned to intercept him. “Glad you decided to pop in, Glento.”

“I came to remind you that I brought you here. You are my guests. Your belligerence has been noted,” he said.

On a different day, I might have lit a cigar and snapped a rejoinder, but I just stared at him, as did my friends. Behind Glento, higher on the stairs, Evantros made his move. The mild-mannered civilian took his attendants by their arms and raced into the blackness of the cave mouth.

“Looks like Evantros decided for us,” I said, then pointed.

Glento cursed. Everyone else moved, leaving him behind. I put on a burst of speed to get in front of Elise, hoping to protect her from defensive traps or angry creatures hiding in the gloom.

Twenty meters ahead of me, Evantros stopped suddenly. He retreated with his hands on his ears. His attendants staggered sideways, clutching their chests.

A piercing sound stabbed my ears. Eyes watering, I fought to remain upright and shield the others with my Archangel armor and cybernetic body.

“The Guardian of this place has issued a warning. Reaper Cain, you must tell everyone to stop and wait for the final delegation. Whether you like it or not, Drakainis has chosen who she wishes to touch,” X-37 said.

“Fuck me.” I raised one hand to signal a halt, then gathered my breath to talk. “Everyone hold on. My LAI has communication with… a guardian or someone.”

Everyone, even Glento, stared at me in a mixture of wonder and horror.

“Someone?” Elise asked. She knew me and my LAI too well.

I shrugged. “Something, I guess. Let's just pump the brakes and see what X has to say.”

“I do not understand how you could acquire this knowledge,” Glento said. “But there have been others, long before you, who spoke with such inner wisdom.”

“It's not like that.” I fumbled with a way to explain this to the Triumvirate leader. “Remember my remote assistant?”

“Yes, I do now that you mention it. You have attempted to trick us by falsifying a revelation. I should have remembered.” He motioned angrily at his bodyguards to go ahead of him, then strode toward the shrines entrance.

“He's not going to like what happens,” X-37 said.

“What is gonna happen, X?” I grabbed Elise just to make sure she didn't try to race the guy, but she had better sense, apparently.

“I don't have a full language for this… digital entity, if that's what it is, but I believe the countermeasure will be very hot,” X-37 said.

Kitok broke into a full sprint, revealing his own ambition. I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like he was ready to take the prize for himself, Glento and the rest of us be damned.

For several strides, he looked like a winner. His form passed into the shadows. A second later, a geyser of molten lava shot toward the ceiling of the dark place, momentarily silhouetting Kitok’s form.

“I did warn him, Reaper Cain.”

“You sure as hell did, X.” I turned up the volume so everyone could hear my LAI.

“Only the envoys may enter. Guardians must wait on the stairs,” X-37 said. “And they must stand by for the arrival of the final delegate.”

Glento pulled back the other bodyguard, his hand visibly shaking from what had just happened.

Evantros, far closer to making his own misguided attempt at entering solo, backed away and seemed ashamed if his downcast gaze was any indicator.

“Billiam for General Hastings,” came a voice in my shared channel with Elise.

“Go for Hastings,” she said.

“We have eyes on Scheid and two of his Obsidians. You know, the guys with the fancy armor—piloted by cheap copies of our Reaper,” Billiam said. “Do you want us to blast them? Slow them down?”

“Negative,” Elise said. “Keep an eye on them until they get here, and maintain the high ground when you can. If this goes bad, I want you to even the playing field immediately. Those Obsidians are worth about ten of his other fighters.”

I wasn't sure if time sped up or slowed down after that, but the wait was miserable. I checked my gear, resisted the urge to smoke a cigar, and wondered how I was going to get Elise out of this one. My worries had to remain private, because both Elise and X would point out that she was probably going to save my ass and not the other way around.

When Scheid finally appeared, I realized I still hated the murdering void scum. His armor made him slightly taller than the others and had more of a mech feel. It reminded me of flat black Archangel armor with several added accessories I couldn't identify the purpose of.

“Analyzing the armament of general Scheid's equipment,” X-37 said. “Perhaps he will get melted in the shrine like Glento's first bodyguard.”

“Speaking of that, did you figure out a way around the blood sacrifice?” I asked.

“No, I did not, Reaper Cain.”

“Well shit.” We just couldn't win with this misadventure. “Can you talk to Drakainis?”

“Stand by,” X-37 said.

“Standing by. How did you convince her not to kill you?” I asked.

A definition for the phrase stand by and a bullet point list of how to do it scrolled up my HUD.

Elise looked at me for an update.

“X is looking for a workaround on the human sacrifice thing,” I said.

“I wonder if the first guy counts. Sorry, that was gruesome.” Her attention went to Scheid and his bodyguards as they climbed toward us.

“I have a partial answer, Reaper Cain, but it should remain between the two of us,” X-37 said.

I made sure everything was muted in my helmet and comms.

“Drakainis does not communicate in a linear fashion. It is not unlike analyzing everything she said up to this point at the same time, which is somewhat beyond my processing power, if you can believe it. But I can say she implies the sacrifice is not for her, but for the magma creatures.”

“I don't like that,” I said. “What exactly do they want from a sacrificial offering?”

“They are closely associated with the Darkness and were once guardians for her and those like her. The first people to arrive at this planet fought very hard to stay alive. How they developed these superheated monsters is unclear, but they are very dangerous and almost impossible to destroy.”

I waited for more. As bad feelings went, this was light-years ahead of anything else I'd felt.

“Blood sacrifices merely keep them asleep. If we recover the Darkness element and the counter element, then leave, the guardians of this place will awaken and pursue us,” X-37 said.

“But if every envoy distracts them by feeding their bodyguards to the creatures, the survivors can crawl back to the surface in peace?” I asked.

“Technically, the survivors will take balloon-like devices up thermal air vents. Most of us will survive due to our advanced armor, but it will be a little like getting shot out of a volcano,” X-37 said.

“We really should have read the brochure before taking this ride,” I said.

“If one had been available, Reaper Cain, I would have informed you.”

“I'd better talk to Elise. She's giving me that look,” I said.

“Good luck, Reaper Cain.”

“All right, kid. I've got some important news.”

* * *

Scheid’s arrival got under my skin. “Look at that guy. Does he think that armor will save him?”

“Scheid’s Archangel-Obsidian hybrid gear will very likely outperform what you are wearing, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Please relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, X.” Seeing red was an actual thing, apparently. Who knew? “We came all this way, and the most murderous lunatic in the galaxy gets a pass? Bullshit.”

“Do you need a nap, Reaper Cain? Perhaps something to eat? We’ve covered this development and cannot change it.”

“Sorry, X. Just craving a Maglan Continental.”

“Then have one.” X-37 displayed data in my HUD to back up his next statement. “Though I do not condone the long term flooding of your bloodstream with carcinogens, a brief indulgence will take the edge off and get you back on track.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I fired up my last stubby little excuse for a nicotine stick while simultaneously convincing myself there was another stored somewhere in my gear. The glow when I inhaled lit up a larger part of the cavern than expected.

I wondered what the rest of the expedition thought of my strange visage at this point. Tank didn’t look himself. Without the hard skin to contain his reaction to the DK technology, the change to his appearance was less pronounced. Blackness filled his eyes—when he allowed anyone to see them. When he stared at me, it seemed the inky liquid was leaking onto his cheekbones.

Has to be an illusion. I needed to get X to analyze the HC clone. When there was time. And we weren’t about to die or whatever.

Elise ended her debriefing of the Archangels, glaring at me like I’d tickled someone’s cat. Which I assumed was a bad thing. Felines still bewildered me, despite how many videos X-37 had produced from archives over the years.

“When you’re finished, we should get started,” she said.

The other delegations formed up, though Glento looked worried about not having the requisite double bodyguards.

“You could loan him one of the Archangels,” I suggested.

“Are you drunk, Reaper?”

“If only.” I gave Glento a reassuring thumbs-up, which earned me an icy glare.

“We’ll go together,” Elise announced, barely acknowledging that Scheid and his top HC clones were there. From left to right were Carnax and his Destroyers, Jag with Decima and Naaman, Elise with Tank and me, Glento and Kitok’s tall friend, Perus. Evantros and his trembling attendants came next. Scheid and his Obsidians were as far from Carnax and the Destroyers as possible while remaining able to enter the shrine simultaneously.

Everyone paused below the angrily glowing symbols. Now that Scheid was here, they burned bright as torches.

“I hate this, X,” I said. “Feels like we’re relying on luck, or mercy.”

“Neither are recommended strategies,” X-37 said. “I am in communication with Drakainis. She assures me there must be six.”

“What about the flaming death trap?” Decima asked.

I held up a clenched fist to call a halt, hoping everyone would freeze. “Hold on.”

“What now?” Glento demanded.

“My LAI is negotiating with Drakainis,” I said offhandedly. My attention was on my HUD.

Glento and Evantros froze like they’d seen a ghost.

“That is the name that none but the elders of Camis Shae know,” Glento said.

“Yeah, well, we all know it now,” Carnax said. “Let’s get after it. Time is wasting. I don’t like the temperature readings in this cavern.”

“Hey, X, the locals are freaked out about your new friend,” I said privately.

“Friend is not an accurate term,” X-37 said. “She advises that Kitok was burned because he came ahead of the delegation. Six must enter. Six must leave.”

“What about the rest of us?” I asked.

“Unclear.”

“Godsdammit, X. Do your job.” My frustration was about to blow like a volcano even if this subterranean nightmare didn’t.

“We go now,” Glento said. “We have six leaders of the world, as the ancient texts prescribe. All will be well.”

“None of you should be listening to the Maglan cowards,” Scheid said.

“Oh that motherfucker,” I grumbled.

Elise grabbed my arm. “Stop, Reaper. He’ll get his. Later, when this is done.”

“There is an eleven percent chance this event is designed to gather the most powerful opponents of Drakainis and slay them in a single attack,” X-37 said.

“Never say that again, especially to the others.”

“Of course. You can still turn back, though that course of action would cause a new cascade of problems, not limited to a fight to the death between Scheid and his over-powered HC clones in Archangel-Obsidian hybrid armor,” X-37 said. “But Drakainis does claim there will be no immolation if all six leaders enter at the same time.”

I spoke directly to Elise “X says it’s time.”

She raised three fingers high above her head. “On three. One, two, three.”

We stepped forward as a single unit, leaders in the front row of six. Shadows fell like curtains. My optics turned off. For one second, I could hear nothing but my own breathing.

“X, are you there?”

26

“X?”

“Yes, Reaper Cain. Stop cringing like a little boy,” my LAI said.

“Not my style, X. You know that. I’m tough AF.”

“And yet your body language screams for help.” X-37 reactivated my helmet cameras and advanced optics. The scene flared to life, pushing aside his hurtful observations.

The floor tilted toward the back of the room. Every few meters, the slope increased until even a tough as steel Reaper wouldn’t be able to keep from sliding into the abyss if he got too close. There couldn’t just be a ledge to fall over, it had to be this black-hole like precipice that turned my guts to liquid.

I reached both hands forward, spread my feet, and maintained my balance by force of will. “I hate heights.”

“Everyone stop,” Elise ordered.

Jag, Carnax, and Scheid gave similar commands. Glento and Evantros pulled their people back.

On the other side of the death slide was a wide shelf packed with intricately carved blocks of stone, seemingly impossible to reach. Helmet lights and optical magnification revealed equipment cases like I’d never seen.

“Can we open those things?” I asked.

“I’m more worried about crossing safely,” Jag said. “If you can get over there, by all means, pop open the lids. I'm sure everyone gets a prize.”

Carnax edged forward and looked down the deceptively sloped drain. The surface was polished glass over black rock. “Agreed. Our climbing ropes will reach, but I don’t see a way to secure them. We could fire grappling hooks, but I'm not giving it a high chance of success from the look of that rock. Must've been melted that way by lava flows. Smooth as glass.”

Scheid strode down the line and met the other leaders in the middle. I resisted the urge to shank him with my arm blade. Elise stared him down. None of the delegates looked happy.

“We must do this as a team,” Scheid said. “Later, we can continue our war unless everyone wants to surrender now.”

“Lick my sweaty—” Carnax lunged forward, shoulders thrown back and fists clenched.

“Hey!” Elise pushed them away from each other, the gears of her Archangel armor flexing. “We work together, handle business, then travel to the surface without fighting each other. That’s the truce. No arguments.”

“You don’t command me, girl,” Scheid said.

“How much do you know about the Lex-tech experiments the Union did on me, Doctor Scheid?” Elise snapped.

Scheid’s face flushed red beneath his visor. “Not my department. A completely different type of genetic manipulation.”

“You know better than to mess with me, especially in this environment,” she said. “Check yourself.”

He stepped back. “The experiments weren’t what made you dangerous. Your recklessness has always been the problem. Nothing has changed.”

She eyed the man over her shoulder as she moved my way. At the last second, she gave me her full attention. “You’re gonna have to throw me, Reaper.”

“Finally. I mean, I've been tempted lots of times. Just knew the day would come if I was patient.”

“Seriously,” she said. “My Archangel gear is proportional to my size, and that makes it the smallest of our group. Don’t chicken out halfway through the swing. You’ve got to give maximum effort. I’ll jump when you reach the apex of your throw.”

“I’m not a chicken thing, or whatever,” I muttered. “X, tell me this will work”

“Calculating.” My LAI presented his results on both our HUDS. The diagram showed stick-figure Elise flying through a neat arc to the container shelf. “The kid will have an eighty-nine percent chance of locating handholds unobservable from our current location. Her size, weight, and relative boot traction give her a better than average chance of hanging on for dear life.”

“Did X just call me a kid?” Elise asked.

X-37 continued. “Assuming she lands correctly and finds a way to remain in place, there will be opportunities for her to figure the rest out on her own.”

“You just called me a kid, X.” Elise gazed at me with wide eyes like I was the problem. “Bad enough when Reaper does it. I’m used to that at least.”

“Yes, Elise Hastings, I slipped that in. Consider it an algorithm fluctuation,” X-37 said.

“He’s trying to distract you from the odds.” I knew how my LAI worked, but Elise was new to his digital shenanigans and misinformation.

“What are the odds, X?” Elise asked.

X-37 beeped softly before answering. “Somewhat possible when you take the entirety of the circumstances into account.”

Elise crossed her arms, her go-to stance when she demanded no BS answers. “You said I had an eighty-nine percent chance of making it across. What happened to the rest of the numbers?”

“I would rather not say, Elise. You cannot force me to talk.”

“He’s right,” I said. “Hard for me to torture my own nerve-ware.”

Elise shook her head as she checked her gauntlets and other gear. “I don’t know how you do it. A freaking LAI would drive me crazy. But maybe I don’t want hard numbers now that I think about it.”

“I know, right? Forget about that for now. Mister personality is stomping our way with his goons,” I said as I instinctively faced Scheid.

“My Obsidians will throw me instead,” he announced.

Elise stepped back and crossed her arms. If contempt were an eye color, they'd have to name it after Elise’s expression.

“Please let this happen.” I crossed my fingers. “Please, please, please.”

Scheid shouted at his bodyguards to gather near him. They listened like professionals. Their visors remained black as the scene around us. I didn’t have to look at myself. True HC clones were the worst type of Obsidians, especially when they sold their souls to Scheid.

Elise shook her head. “There’s no way they can get him across. How freaking amazing would it be to watch our archenemy disappear into that lava chute? Sure, it would be better if there was molten lava down there, but I'm not greedy.”

“I don’t even have the words, kid. Might smoke all the cigars in celebration, though.”

“I understand my obligation to obey orders,” the lead Obsidian said. “But I have a duty to refuse an order that will get my battle lord killed.”

Scheid stormed away from his Obsidians, then pointed at Elise. “You go. But don’t try to steal everything for yourself. We’re in this together.”

“Debatable,” Elise muttered on our channel.

“Next time I will have a jet pack, and I won’t need your cooperation,” Scheid said. “For now, we rely on you. Cross me, and you will feel my wrath.”

“I’m definitely going to cross you, asshole, but not until we get through this. Much as I hate to admit it, we’re in unknown territory. Seems like someone or something is forcing us to work together or die.”

“That is an adequate assessment,” Scheid said.

“Can we just do this?” Carnax asked.

Scheid’s response fell like a hammer. “Shut your mouth, traitor.”

I didn’t want to block the Destroyer’s attack, but I did, just like I restrained my own violent impulses earlier. “Later, Carnax.”

His jaw was locked so tight I didn’t think he could have responded if he wanted to.

“If you are all done being children, I’m going to retrieve what we came for.” Elise pulled out the first two feet of a cable from her harness and handed it to me. “Secure that, and let’s do this.”

“I found a natural crenelation in the wall behind us while the rest of you were having social hour,” Tank said. “I’ll make sure it holds.”

He weaved the line around a natural formation, tied it like a pro, and then held on with both hands and most of his body weight.

Elise and I exchanged a look. I located places to grab her by a shoulder plate and the back of her armored utility belt. “We’re gonna look like a couple of idiots. Sprint toward the edge, and I’ll hurl you into the air on your last stride.”

“You read my mind, Reaper.” She backed up, locked her visor shut, and then dashed forward.

I shuffled sideways, grabbed her by the two handholds I’d found, and flung her into the air right before I went over the edge. Her foot pushed off in perfect synchronization with my effort, and she was airborne.

For a second, I had a hard time finding her in the blackness until X-37 took control of my optical sensors. She appeared to be running through the void, arms and legs cycling as hard and fast as possible.

She hit the ledge and just held on for almost a full minute.

“Are you okay, kid?” I asked.

“Yeah. Perfect. The cable dragged more than I planned. Thought I was going to the bottom for a second.” The sound of her breathing betrayed her emotional and physical effort.

“Don't think I've ever heard you winded, not like that,” I said on our private channel.

“Me neither. But I'm here. Stand by while I inspect these things,” she said. “I'll stream my helmet camera to yours. X-37 can manage the data flow.”

“Good idea.” I watched grainy images of what she was doing. Her hands inspected equipment cases, or that's what the items looked like. At first, I thought they were made from stone, but they had merely been covered with molten lava long ago.

“Whoever made these knew what they were doing,” Elise said. “Practically indestructible. Or at least heat resistant. I don't think I could open them if I wanted to right now.”

“What is the delay?” Scheid demanded.

I leaned toward him, willing him dead. “She's making sure the line will hold them. I assume you want to actually retrieve these containers.”

“Of course. Patch me into your conversation,” he said. “All of us should hear, since we’re in this together.”

“I trust General Hastings and the Reaper,” Jag said.

“Me too,” Carnax said.

“I think he's a dick.” Tank's contribution stunned everyone, but it didn't last.

Scheid motioned toward Glento and Evantros. “They don't seem to share the absolute trust of your confederates. Nor secrets. Let us hear what she is saying.”

“I am patching Elise into this conversation,” X-37 said. “You will still have your private channel, of course. I'm an LAI, not an idiot.”

Elise played along. “Fine, Scheid. These containers were constructed from an alloy I've never seen. Molten rock cooled on them a long time ago. It will take me a minute to chip them free of the crust. Just give me time to make sure the carabiners and cables are set. Then I'll start sliding them across.”

Scheid stared at her. “That will suffice. I'm watching you, child.”

Elise refused to dignify his comment with a response. I thought about clarifying a few things for him but took a step back to reassess my tactical situation.

Not much had changed, but now that we had our prize all but delivered, treachery was more likely. I kept an eye on my enemies, but didn't forget about my newer friends like Carnax and his Destroyers. Or Glento and Evantros. They weren’t proven allies yet.

Ten minutes later, Scheid was pacing impatiently, and I knew Elise was doing a lot more than she claimed over there. “What's up, X?”

“I am helping Elise with a basic field analysis. Please continue to stall for as long as you can,” X-37 said.

Sounds rumbled from distant caverns.

“Sure. That sounds awesome. But remind her that we are under time restraints,” I said.

“She knows, Reaper Cain.”

* * *

“Not negotiable,” Elise said. “I’ve rigged one large bundle. Weighs less than I do, so I know the cable can handle it. When I’m safely across, we can pull the prize over.”

“Unnecessary, child,” Scheid said.

“Put yourself in my shoes, asshole. Don’t you think I would leave you behind if it were easy?” Elise paused to let her statement hit.

Scheid turned away and waved for us to proceed.

Tank, Jag, Decima, and Naaman held the line at one end. I hoped the kid really did a good job securing the knot. She had my rope connected to the bundle, which caused X-37 to remind me to recoil it about every five seconds.

“You will need all of your survival tools before this mission is complete,” X-37 said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heard you the first five times. Focus, X.”

He chirped at me. “Reaper Cain, I can focus on thousands of tasks simultaneously with equal efficiency.”

“But can you really?” I asked as I pulled on Elise’s recovery line—a smaller cord not meant for supporting weight. “Or are you just switching back and forth between tasks faster than can be measured?”

“Please desist with that hypothesis, Reaper Cain. You’ll throw me into analysis paralysis,” X said.

“Really?” I almost stopped pulling.

“No, Reaper Cain. I am well aware of my exact operating parameters.” If X-37 could sigh in annoyance, that was what his digital tone was.

“You’re learning some new chops, X. Keep up the good work.” I didn’t say what popped into my head, because comparing him to a real person with an actual personality, not the patched together reflection of my own, could get him shut down.

And no one wanted that.

“Are you even trying, Reaper?” Elise said on the public channel.

“I was about to ask the same question.” Scheid’s dry, flat voice made me want to drop the recovery cord and attack him. But I didn’t. Because I kind of liked Elise and wouldn’t want to watch her fall screaming into the pit of doom.

Carnax joined me. “Let me help, Reaper.”

“Knock yourself out.” I made room on the cord and nodded when it was time to pull. We fell into a rhythm.

“I came over because my helmet has a proximity link. Seems yours does too. Can you tell if we’re speaking in private?” Carnax asked.

“You are safe. Speak freely, Commander Carnax,” X-37 said. “But please be aware. Scheid is already suspicious of this development.”

“Figured he would be, but screw that guy,” Carnax said. “When this is over, can I count on you to stand with us against Scheid and the rest of the Oroth Council?”

“Does a mini-bear shit in the woods?” I asked.

“Damned if I know. What’s a mini-bear?”

“Ask Jag.” I wanted to test the guy. He came seeking an alliance. How did he feel about my allies?

“Maybe I will. Never thought we’d be on the same side. We almost have your general.” He pulled. “Why do you call her kid? Isn’t she older than you?”

“No. But I get that a lot lately. Probably a result of my clean living and solid life choices,” I said.

He guffawed. “Not sure why I’m laughing, but that was hilarious. Glad we’re on the same side, Reaper.”

“As long as you don’t threaten my friends, we can work together. Hurt anyone I care about, and it’s an arm blade to the face for you and everyone you ever liked.” I gave the final pull that spilled Elise unceremoniously on our side of the slippery chasm.

“Simple rules are best,” Carnax said as he stepped back. “Glad we understand each other.”

Elise came to her knees, then pulled me, Jag, and Carnax into a private conference. “Act like you’re helping me up. I’ve got things to tell you that I don’t want tall, dark, and evil to hear.” She didn’t wait for acknowledgement. “Each of these cases contains two seeds with a divider. Between them. I expected mineral elements or something weirder, but these are almost pure tech. Unique elements from this planet make up their center, but there are definitely computer chips fused into them. Could be AI related or something none of us understand. So be careful. Quarantine them when you get back to your ships. Don’t screw around and get infected—or let your computers get infected.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” Tank said. “I was infected with something, and I’m not a computer.”

“Can’t answer that right now, Tank. My intuition tells me these things produce or manipulate other chemicals or bioweapons. Don’t worry. We’ll figure out a cure. I have to fix the Reaper, at least, and you haven’t annoyed me yet.”

“That’s a compliment, Tank,” I said.

He scowled, then turned toward the other three groups. “Looks like your debrief is over. Here comes the devil himself.”

Scheid thrust forward one gauntlet. “I demand our share of the prize.”

Elise handed over one of the cases. “Hope you die.”

He passed the battered case to one of his Obsidians but refused to look away from her. “When this is over, one of us will die.”

“Hell yeah,” she said.

He furrowed his brow. “What does that mean? You are imprecise, like a child pretending to be a leader.”

“Elise, he is attempting to provoke you,” X-37 warned.

Glento took two cases and handed one over to Evantros, whose expression was full of surprise. Apparently, the man had thought the Triumvirate boss would steal his portion.

“I have been thinking,” Glento said.

“Cut to the chase,” Scheid snapped. “We have what we came for.”

“Yes,” Glento said. “But so far nothing has truly required us to work together. I suspect that part lies ahead. Now is not the time to resume hostilities.”

Silence.

“Glento’s assertion has a high chance of being correct,” X-37 said publicly.

Scheid thrust a finger toward me. “I don’t want to hear a sound from your rogue LAI.”

“Did you get that, X?” I asked.

“Request registered and ignored,” my LAI said. “Shall I begin a play by play analysis of the mission so far so that everyone can evaluate their mistakes and improve? You’re welcome. First of all, Doctor Scheid has repeatedly—”

“Enough!” Scheid roared.

“Touchy touchy,” Elise said with a smile.

“I suggest we seek the surface vents and find the balloon lifts,” Evantros said. “A neutral party should lead the way to avoid the temptation to betray the others.”

“There are no neutral parties,” Scheid barked.

“Evantros is the least warlike,” Jag offered. “Send him and his attendants first.”

“I will go last,” Glento offered. “That should reassure all of you. The Shae, including both the civilian shaman and the Triumvirate leader, will not team up for an unfair advantage. And I suspect Evantros knows the way better than the rest of you.”

“He’s never been here, has he?” Carnax asked.

“No, but he is attuned to this planet in a way none of us can replicate,” X-37 said.

“Fine. Enough talking. Lead the way, Evantros of Camis Shae,” Scheid said, butchering the local dialect. “Move out. Locate the vents and hold for my command.”

Evantros bowed, spread his hands, then lifted both pinky fingers high.

“That may be the equivalent of a thumbs-up,” X-37 said.

Elise chuckled. “Or he flipped us the bird.”

“Better than literally anything Scheid has said or done since this bullshit started,” Tank muttered. “Tell me you hate him, Reaper.”

The demand silenced me. Of course I hated the man who was murdering and torturing his way across the galaxy. He ruined Maglan and displaced or killed thousands of families. Scheid was as bad as Vice Admiral Nebs ever was, or maybe worse.

“Sure, Tank. But that’s not something I talk about. Good way to go crazy,” I finally said.

“Whatever.” He sulked away from me, then spoke without making eye contact. “You know you want to fling his corpse into one of these pits.”

“Godsdammit, Tank. It’s good to have someone more psychotic than me on the team,” I said. “Let’s move out.”

This time, everyone responded, which caused Scheid to seethe near the middle of our column.

Hours passed as we searched for the vents.

“Feels like we have been down here forever,” I said.

Elise kept pace, almost like we were just out for a nice hike to see the sights—in the total blackness of this subterranean nightmare. “Don’t I know it. Half of our missions feel like this. You know, when we’re not running for our lives or fighting monsters.”

X-37 adjusted my optics, then warned me of a new chamber ahead. “This one seems rather large. We may be getting close to the vents.”

I updated the rest of the team. Scheid again complained that he wasn’t being allowed to hear X-37 directly.

“You really don’t want that, Scheid,” I said.

His lead bodyguard pointed at me. “That’s General Scheid to you, Bio. I’m tired of your mouth.”

“Don’t call him Bio,” Tank said, squaring off with the Obsidian, his mismatched gear contrasting with the Obsidian’s perfectly embellished armor. “Steal my name for him, and you’ll get punched to death.”

“Tough talk for a washout,” the Obsidian fired back.

“Go to hell, slave.” Tank thrust his chin up while also presenting his middle finger—classic disrespect.

“Please,” Evantros said. “I believe we’re there. This cavern has six corners, basically. We must explore them and learn how the escape mechanisms work.”

All six delegations faced each other in the middle of a large, artificial room. Someone or something had carved the area to exact proportions—probably about a thousand or more years ago. Natural twists and curves left the periphery and adjoining tunnels a mess of hiding places.

“Peace?” Elise asked.

No one spoke, but no one started shooting or slashing either.

“Great. Let’s spread out, reconnoiter everything, and compare notes before screwing something up,” Elise said.

Scheid stepped forward, then gave orders to the entire group, turning slowly to address everyone, including Elise. “Spread out, touch nothing unless you have to, and bring back your theories on how this works. I will decide when it is time to activate the balloon lifts.”

Elise rolled her eyes so only I noticed, then jumped in. “Find the vents first. Everything else should be nearby.”

“Do what she says,” Scheid ordered.

“This guy really won’t quit,” I said to X-37.

“Megalomania detected.” Sometimes my LAI had a way with words.

* * *

“The shafts won’t open until a certain weight is applied to the launch platforms, approximately three full grown residents of Camis Shae. When that condition has been satisfied, the first balloon will release. Two more will follow before the opening is sealed forever, so don’t hesitate to strap in,” X-37 advised. “I cannot postulate why this was built that way, but one might assume that it would punish anyone who murdered their collaborators or left them behind.”

“Very egalitarian,” Naaman muttered. “I feel greatly reassured.”

X brought me and Elise back into a private channel. “I am concerned there may be a maximum weight limit. How much is too much?”

“No idea, X.” I studied my LAI’s diagram of the balloon lifts and realized the image in my head didn’t match reality. This wouldn’t be a gentle ascent. He was working with limited information and technological speculation I wouldn’t attempt.

Why would I when my LAI was so much better at it?

The inflatable material would conform to the vertical shaft above, rendering the balloon oblong rather than spherical. A dozen carbon fiber cables attached to the passenger harness below. The rig would hold the passenger's torso under the armpits and crotch. If X was right, three of the contraptions had been compacted and stacked in something like a giant, side-loading magazine.

Friction, that was the problem I worried about. The balloon could tear apart unless the shape during escape was perfectly formed and smooth. Even then… I really needed a cigar.

“I don’t know the exact specifications of the Sethorn or Destroyer equipment,” Elise said. “Of course you could team up with Scheid and the Obsidians in a pinch. They definitely fulfill the weight necessary for activation. As for too much weight? Nothing we can do about that now.”

“Thanks, X.” I filed the information, minimized the wire diagrams in my HUD, and worried there was more to this trap than met the eye. Elise was right, of course. We didn’t have much choice other than to continue.

“There is one more thing,” X-37 said. “From what you have shown me, each of the Camis Shae cases should have a key to activate the mechanisms.”

“Oh, right. Good call, X.” Elise waved for everyone’s attention. “Check your cases. Search for an attachment that could function as a key to turn this area on.”

Everyone complied. Tired of the march and sick of each other, we were ready to be done. Jag found his key first, then showed the rest of us how to remove the simple tool from the back of the lava-crusted cases.

“Nice work, Sethorn,” Carnax said.

“You know my people,” Jag said. “We’re all about secret technology. Not everything is an advanced computer or bioweapon. Simple tools yield complex results when used in the correct venue.”

“Yeah, that,” Carnax said.

Elise took our key and activated our balloon platform. Two things happened. The first balloon filled rapidly, and veins of lava glowed to life in the natural periphery of the chamber, turning the walls into a beautiful warning of our death.

“We are in no immediate danger,” X-37 promised. “Would you like me to reach out to Drakainis for reassurance.”

“No, X. I need you with us, not in silent mode,” I said. Sounds rumbled from distant chambers. Fingers of a molten substance grew thicker, all of it flowing toward the center of the room, which began to crumble.

“Please tell me this place isn’t going to collapse?” Decima said.

Elise moved too close to the edge. “I think the floor is opening up. Something is coming out. We need to hurry.”

“The floor is lava,” I warned.

“I’m so glad I brought a five-year-old,” Elise muttered… just loud enough for me to hear. “Move your asses, people!”

“You heard her!” Scheid shouted. “Hurry up. Get these lifts working! We can’t fight whatever is making that noise.”

The cavern was like the inside of a hive, excepting only the large central area. In each of six corners there were volcanic vents to the surface. Since they were inactive now, it seemed we could survive using them. Superheated air whooshed upward where lava and other gasses had once reshaped the mantle of Camis Shae. I wondered if the glowing fluid would change that before we escaped.

“That can’t be magma,” Elise complained. “Rock doesn’t melt that fast.”

“Worry about that later.” I wasn’t sure I agreed because the streams of hot death were growing faster and faster, like the thermal dynamic properties of this place were obeying physics—more or less. The unknown source of the heat surge was what worried me.

Scheid and his Obsidians worked frantically at the nearest balloon station, unpacking their Camis Shae boxes with reckless haste. I watched with murderous intensity. There was just no way they wouldn’t betray us when they could. Maybe Tank’s unrelenting hatred was the right call.

“Your attention to Scheid and the Obsidians is warranted,” X-37 said. “My analysis suggests there is an extremely high probability he will harm us and our chances of survival. But Elise needs our help.”

“Agreed, X. Help me watch that backstabbing lunatic. Catch anything I miss. What does the kid need? I got sidetracked there for a second.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. That is my entire job. Elise has the key in place but has neglected her Archangel armor. Please close her secondary storage compartment. Leaving it open will weaken the integrity of the protective plates.”

“What are you up to, kid?” I asked as I slammed the panel shut.

“I took a small sample of both elements just in case we lose the container,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Just watch Scheid.”

“On it,” I said.

The ground rumbled again, this time so hard I threw out an arm to maintain my balance.

Naaman and one of the Destroyers, Journ, shouted simultaneous warnings.

“Magma beast!” Naaman boomed.

“Look out!” Journ shouted, then opened fire on a six-armed creature crawling from the first big gap in the center of the floor. Rock-like skin cracked from the heat inside of it. Melted rock oozed from each break in its exterior like half-coagulated blood from angry wounds.

“Just be glad those didn’t come after us the moment we arrived,” X-37 said.

“That’s my LAI. Always looking on the bright side.” I held my fire. Journ’s slugs weren’t doing much to the lead creature in the wave. “You go, Elise. Take the first balloon. Then Tank, then me.”

“Fine, Reaper. But you better be right behind us,” she said as her attention was torn between the questionable straps and unfolding chaos.

27

“Battle lines!” Scheid shouted. “Everyone, stand together.”

Carnax and his Destroyers opened fire with no need for encouragement. Their shots thumped into granite-hard carapaces, throwing out flecks of molten stone when they did penetrate.

The Obsidians moved to support their flank without hesitation. Their heavier weapons pounded a pair of the smoking creatures to their knees.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Jag grunted as he rushed to support the Destroyers on the other flank. “What are these things?”

“Unknown,” X-37 said.

I wasn’t sure who listened to my LAI or if it mattered. I moved to support the Obsidians, but only because I wanted to live a few more minutes, and that was the best place I could fit into the line. Elise would make it out alive. That might have to be enough for a soft hearted Reaper like me.

Five, then ten, then twenty of the creatures clawed free of the expanding chasm. Others dropped into passages and shambled in our direction. Rage burned in their eyes.

“The Obsidian jerks are actually helping us,” Journ barked over the tactical channel.

“Don't worry,” Scheid said between volleys of gunfire. “There's definitely a court-martial at the end of this for all of you.”

“We should just put them down now, for the General,” one of the Obsidians said. “Godsdamn traitors.”

No one responded to this last comment. I didn't think it was meant for everyone, but we were getting banged about by flying debris and the surge of magma creatures. Mistakes were piling up, and people were getting sloppy with their radio traffic.

Elise’s voice broke through my worry. “Look out, Reaper. I’m coming up on your left.”

We stood shoulder to shoulder, firing our rifles into a dense cluster of strange enemies. I didn't like the way the floor trembled when they attacked or the screams that sounded like steam whistles when they stretched open their mouths.

“You’re supposed to be halfway to the surface!” I shouted without taking my eyes off my targets.

“Thought I’d save your ass real quick first.” She made several headshots, then adjusted her stance for even more serious shooting.

Carnax and his Destroyers retreated through the Obsidian line. Scheid and his two bodyguards covered their withdrawal with their big guns.

Elise let go a triple tap of small rockets, blinding the monsters.

“This won’t work for long, Reaper,” Elise said.

“Agreed. How do we get everyone back to their balloon lifts?” I lobbed a grenade into a hallway to prevent more of the creatures from sneaking up on Scheid’s position.

Saving his ass felt like a galaxy sized mistake. Another Reaper might have shot him in the back, or better yet, shot him in the leg and let the horde of subterranean freaks rip him apart.

Elise resisted the same temptation. The look on her face as she spoke was a mixture of anger and desperation, not something I wanted to see again in this lifetime. “In most situations, we would be better off abandoning him to slow the monsters.”

“See if the balloon lifts are ready,” I said, switching magazines to fire on new targets. The monsters went down but it took way too many hits to get the job done.

“Already checked.” She launched a small rocket from her Archangel rig. “Get ready. I’m about to call the next move. Don't forget how these are activated. You can't screw around. Wait too long, and you'll miss your ride.”

Magma creatures spilled out of a previously dark hole in the wall. Suddenly I was more exposed than Scheid’s team. This place was a labyrinth of bad tactical situations surrounding the main chamber—which provided little cover when I raced to catch up with the others.

X-37 identified targets in my HUD and tagged them by threat order. The closest, most dangerous received red markers. “Please fire on those I selected first, Reaper Cain. And heed Elise's warning. There is a reason whoever built this wanted six specific delegations here at once.”

“Too much information, X. Chop it down to combat mode,” I grunted as I fired at something falling from the ceiling with glowing wings. Fangs slashed at me, then blew apart when I shot it at arm's length.

“Hastings for all delegations,” Elise said on the shared frequency. “Prepare to break contact and board your lifts. We only get one try at this.”

Not even Scheid argued with her this time.

“In three,” she said. “Three, two, one, go.”

Each fire team let loose a final barrage, turned, and sprinted to their platforms. Elise beat me, of course. Tank was last. Sweat poured out from the seams of his mismatched gear. His chest rose and fell like he was seconds away from a cardiac event, but he refused to quit.

“Elise, help Tank into his harness,” I said, then sent another stream of slugs toward the misshapen magma creatures chasing us.

The first balloon expanded until it filled the vertical passage above it from wall to wall. An ancient harness hung below it. As simple as the idea was, these were precision instruments made to work once.

A similar scene played out at each of the other five tubes.

“X, give me a hand here. List any options no matter how crazy,” I said as more of the enemy swarmed toward us—enemy being a fluid concept right now. “How do I keep the hounds of hell back long enough?”

“These are not hounds, nor denizens of the mythological place you often refer to as hell,” X-37 said.

“Whatever!”

“Make every shot count since ammunition is limited,” X-37 advised.

“Not very original.” I counted each slug I aimed and fired, something I felt my LAI should be doing for me. “Give me some real advice!”

Static filled my ears. Demonic voices and dissonant screams filled my nerve-ware. My LAI was involved in his own fight to the death.

“X?”

No response.

“Godsdamn it, X! Don't you quit on me!” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tank’s form shoot upward with alarming speed. Arms held tight to his body, he made himself as small as he could. If he’d been wearing Archangel armor his size, the man would have been trapped here for eternity.

But that barely mattered. The guy was a dead man. The acceleration couldn’t have been survivable. Elise went a heartbeat later. My gut clenched when I saw the whiplash force that took her away.

I checked the targets in front of me and realized I had two choices before I took the ride, and they were both wrong—fight my way to freedom or stay and settle a score.

So many of the magma creatures came out of the crevasse and connecting tunnels that they looked like one giant lava flow with eyes and hands jutting up from the waves. Worse, they were picking up speed and were almost to my position.

In other corners of the complex, balloons fired for the surface. I couldn’t see much of what was happening. Waves of heat, flying debris, and toxic chemicals interfered with my armor’s optics.

Only Scheid remained visible. His image appeared through the chaos.

One high-powered slug in his face would end a lot of problems. I would die with the psychopath. Maybe it would be worth it.

Magma beasts clawed at my face, desperate to murder me before I could strap into the harness. In this environment, I had no doubt Archangel armor would fail. Teeth latched on to my left arm, pulling me away from the platform.

My arm blade snapped out, spearing through its throat and out the back of its neck. After shaking it free, I kicked another away and backed toward the lift chute.

A fresh wave of the beasts came at me, one of them dragging a balloon from another platform. I scanned the scene and spotted a cluster of the beasts hurling globs of fire up one of the shafts. That wasn’t going to happen here. No way I would risk the freaks shooting lava up the shaft Elise had just used to escape.

“Time to kick some ass, X!”

Static hissed in my ear when I expected my LAI to chastise my behavior. Two, then three, then five creatures came at me. I fired my D3D, switched to my pistol, and was soon fighting with my arm blade.

What a shit show.

The swarm hesitated and I made my retreat without knowing how long I had stalled them. Securing my weapons, I finally clicked into my harness. A heartbeat later, I punched the button. For a second, nothing happened.

“X!”

“I'm in trouble, Reaper Cain.”

“Everyone's in trouble, X! Join the club.” I regretted the outburst immediately.

I slammed the button to expand my balloon, called it names, and nearly passed out when the contraption finally dragged me upward. I’d been through every trauma a human could survive, or so I’d thought. I’d been shot, stabbed, punched, run over, and blown up. Oceans had tried to drown me, and giant mechs had tried to crush my face.

Something told me this device wasn’t made for living organisms.

This was a new level of hell. My eyeballs went into my feet, and my guts phased in and out of an alternate reality. The only surprise was that I didn’t pass out.

Had to be a mistake. No one should have to go through this. Unconsciousness would have been a gift.

I cataloged every bump and scrape to my Archangel armor, shouted for my LAI without result, and finally realized I had been ejected onto the floor of a new cavern far above the lava trap. Light streamed from someplace in the ceiling so I thought I had to be close to our destination.

That wasn't the same thing as arriving safely. Elise, Tank, and the delegations were gone. I’d taken too long holding off the subterranean horde before taking the ride. Evidence of more magma beasts chasing them scarred the floor. Large, malformed footprints smoked from the creatures that had burned indentations into solid rock.

“Looks like we made it. Mostly.” My ears rang from the traumatic balloon ride, not something I ever imagined would be a problem. As a frequent collector of concussions and other bodily insults, I knew I wasn’t thinking clearly. As to how much time I’d lost track of, who knew.

There had to be more of the things waiting for us. Nothing from below could have beat us here.

X-37 remained on sabbatical, or whatever.

The escape plan would have worked way better if the balloons had rocketed us all the way to the surface. Reinforcements were waiting there.

Probably not anyone friendly to a Reaper or his allies, but someone who wasn't going to melt our faces.

“Drakainis has me, Reaper Cain. She demands I listen to her…”

“X? Talk to me. Where is everyone?” I scanned the area until I spotted a tunnel with cast off first aid supplies littering the ground. Slugs and grenades had marred the walls, ceiling, and floor. I headed that way. “Tell me what I can do to help you.”

Nothing, not even a sarcastic response from my LAI.

Warnings displayed on my Archangel HUD. Normally, X-37 kept me apprised of these issues. I cast away one sleeve, exposing my hard skin covered cyborg arm. A few steps later, I opened my helmet and couldn't get it shut again. The Sethorn layer covering my face would have to be enough for now.

Keeping track of my damaged equipment gave me something to do besides dwell on the pain of my injuries. Pressure bandages and glue kept me together where the armor didn't fulfill that role. For several minutes I gazed in fascination at the interplay between my self-applied first aid and the incredible Sethorn hard skin. The DK contamination oozed out in places, but I didn’t die. Yet.

The only thing I found during the next half hour was more evidence of Elise and the others fighting to stay alive.

“How did I get so far behind, X?” I asked.

“Lack of motivation,” X-37 said, his voice gaining strength with each word. “Or perhaps you can't do anything without my help.”

“And whose fault is that? Someone went on a vacation in the middle of a firefight,” I said, glad he was back.

“I assure you it was no walk in the cake,” X-37 said. “Are you ready to listen?”

“Sure, if it will help me find Elise,” I said.

“One thing at a time, Reaper Cain.” He launched into his explanation. “The reason Drakainis set up this impossible quest is simple, once you see her problem.”

I needed the answer but didn't want to hear it. My head hurt. My body wanted rest. I was tired of failure. What did I have to do to bring peace to those I loved?

“The crates Elise recovered do in fact contain rare elements, some of which are what we need. My analysis suggests we will be able to weaponize one part of it, and turn the rest into an effective antidote for those exposed to dangerous variations.” X-37 was in full lecture mode. “On closer inspection, I located a hidden pattern within the nuclear structure of these unique elements, much like the circuitry of nerve-ware. This is more of an it takes one to know one revelation than direct observation in a scientific sense.”

I fired up a cigar barely intact enough to hold in my mouth. The small ember glowed bright in the weak shadows. “Lay it on me, X. This sounds fascinating.”

“Insincerity detected,” X said. “Oh, and by the way, you should start running.”

The whistle screams of magma creatures pursued me. I started jogging. “Figures. Can’t a guy enjoy a good cigar?”

“Does that qualify as a good cigar, Reaper Cain?” X asked.

“Not really.” I changed course as monsters emerged from a connecting passage. “Tell me your stupid story while I do all the work.” I needed to put him in time out. Maybe dock his pay. “This would be easier in combat mode.”

“Of course, Reaper Cain. Unfortunately, this isn’t the time to summarize,” he said. “I detected an unusual technology when Elise opened the first lava crusted box. I wondered who tried to destroy the containers. Why use such elaborate traps? Why not just blast them apart or hurl them into the pit?”

Three crusty freaks dropped from the ceiling to cut off my escape. I fired one slug at a time to conserve ammunition. Headshots staggered my latest antagonists. I dashed past their writhing forms.

Others chased me. The magma beasts were smaller than those in lower caverns. There were fewer of them, but I was alone and they never quit coming.

Ahead were four tunnels, each sloping upward. Orange-eyed monsters blocked three of them. Not being choosy, I took the only option remaining.

The low ceiling forced me to duck. Stalactites caught my armor when I didn’t watch where I was going. Time moved slower the more desperate I became. Either my perception was speeding up, or events were slowing down. Reasons didn’t matter. I needed out of here. I needed to find my friends.

“… which led my analysis to conclude the tests were necessary and that a previous explorer had failed, causing the scene to be flooded with molten rock.”

“Really don’t care, X.”

“Pay attention, Reaper Cain. I’m not explaining this to flex my ego. We are on the wrong side of this equation. As was a previous delegation hundreds of years ago.”

My LAI’s clues fell into place. We had been used, and the price would be all our lives.

“What we saw as storage containers for the Darkness template and the Darkrendul antidote, were actually designed for another purpose, to manipulate a circuit that held Drakainis in check,” X-37 said. “When all six boxes reached this level, the firewalls restraining her fell.”

“Fuck me.” My blood ran cold. “We set loose an evil AI on the galaxy.”

“Yes, Reaper Cain. She gave us no choice. Forgoing the antidote was never an option, and the power of the weaponized Darkness will always be sought by someone seeking to conquer their neighbors. Sooner or later, someone else would have gone after this prize. Just be thankful she didn't bond to you. I shouldn't need to point out that would've caused my eradication,” X said.

“Wait a minute. You're telling me Drakainis fused to a host like a supercharged LAI?” This just kept getting better and better. Elise really should have left me on Maglan. This was my biggest screwup yet.

“Yes, that is my belief. I have not been able to determine who she enslaved. There is an extremely unlikely chance that she failed to implant into a proper network and perished despite all of her planning.”

“There is no way we get that lucky, X.”

“I could debate the finer points of probability theory with you, Reaper Cain, but you are essentially correct.”

A familiar voice filled my ear. “Hastings for Cain, how copy? I see your icon. Why won’t you respond.”

“Relax, kid. I was getting to it,” I said, so relieved I wanted to fist pump the air. “Stay where you are, and I’ll come to you.”

“Good, because we’ve got another problem,” she said.

I swore with my channel muted.

“Scheid called in reinforcements.” Elise sounded tired and worried. “I don’t think they’re here to kill magma creatures.”

28

X-37 retreated again, intent upon his investigation. What had started as a vague sense of unease for my LAI had become a life and death struggle. Perhaps he'd believed he'd made his own special kind of first contact only to encounter unpredictable dangers.

Over a decade ago, my experience with alien first contact had been something like that. I wished X luck and convinced myself everything would be okay. He promised to monitor my situation and check in regularly.

Still in a daze from the ride, I continued without thinking of the big picture more than I had to. One foot in front of the other, that was the ticket.

Loneliness weighed me down. I stared at my cybernetic hands and wondered who I was. Checking my face was more difficult and probably a bad idea. By using Archangel cameras, I watched my strange visage on my HUD.

This wasn't going to keep my head clear. Regret and self-doubt were already making an assault on my consciousness.

Swirls of darkness spread outward from my eyes, rippling across my skin, sometimes vanishing and other times becoming so dense that I appeared to be a shadow inside my armor. Only the hard skin kept me together.

Jag warned me not to peel back the protective cover unless I wanted to dissolve. That wasn't how he’d described it, but I got the point. Whatever the Darkness and anti-Darkness weapon had done to contaminate my biology would accelerate if exposed to air.

Or at least that's what I thought he meant. Science wasn't really my strong suit.

Now I thought the contaminant was more than just chemicals and radioactive elements poisoning my body. Under my skin was a dark AI gone rogue.

X-37 hadn’t seen the danger early enough. My digital friend had thought the mysterious entity interesting. I couldn't prove it, but I wondered if my LAI had hoped he could befriend the stranger.

That was my go to move despite my core attitude—confront new people, then make nice. X-37 probably attempted the same tactic.

Was I different from Tempest Cain? Had he thought he could use this power to make himself stronger? If he was right, did I have an obligation to use it to protect my people?

Figures moved out of the shadows to intercept me. I knew who the leader was by how she crossed into the tunnel. Her swagger couldn't be imitated.

“Are you okay?” Elise asked when I finally rejoined them. “You look like you were pulled through a three-kilometer-long ventilation shaft by your helmet.”

“You're full of compliments today,” I said. “Give me the Scheid update.”

“Tank spotted a company of regular Obsidians and Obsidian HC clones,” she said. “He's running point with Jag and one of the Destroyers, Journ I think. Our groups formed and reformed during the last several hours. Squads are mixed and matched. Scheid's even less trustworthy than I assumed. He broke away from us the moment we reached this level and started calling in his troops.”

I checked my first aid while I listened. The hard skin was still working in conjunction with the bandages I had applied earlier, but not perfectly. Preventing Elise from seeing the damage took my best sleight of hand skills.

“All six of the cases we worked so hard to recover locked into the wall when we cleared the vents,” she said. “Tried to break them free. Nothing worked. We eventually salvaged what we could and hauled ass.”

I knew exactly what she was talking about, and why it had occurred, but now wasn't the time to tell her we just set loose a malevolent force on the galaxy. “Did you get pictures and measurements, or anything useful from the crates?”

“We did a quick and dirty scan, and secured usable samples,” she said. “Do you think X will be able to make sense of it?”

“I'd bet cigars on it,” I said.

She gave me a curious look. “Despite some setbacks, I feel this is a win. Why does the look on your face tell me otherwise?”

“It's complicated. I'll know more when X-37 makes it back.” I wanted to tell her everything but still didn't think this was the time.

“You make it sound like your LAI went on a dangerous journey,” she said.

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Jag for Hastings, how copy?” The Sethorn leader was adapting well to our comms procedures.

“Hastings reads you five by five,” Elise said.

“I have a fix on Scheid's position,” Jag said. “He's brought another wave of reinforcements, and they look ready to fight. Eager might be a better word. I don't think Carnax and his Destroyers are going to get their day in court.”

“We're headed your way. I recovered our friend,” Elise said. “Stand by and avoid enemy contact.”

“No rest for the wicked,” I said.

“Nope. Glad you made it. Thought we lost you that time,” she said.

We didn't talk much until we reached Jag’s hiding place. I was just glad she had my back and vice versa.

* * *

Glento, Evantros, and their people were still with us, though none of them appeared happy about the situation. Carnax and his Destroyers were all business, barely speaking.

Jag, Naaman, and Decima were at the front with the Destroyers now. Elise and I joined them while Tank sulked over the combined Shae delegation. They were short two people, one lost in a foolish play to take the prize for himself, and another during the escape from the magma creatures.

“Your friend is moody,” Elise said.

“At least he's consistent.” I didn't want to think of my oversized alter ego. That was a problem for another day.

We hunkered down behind rock formations with Jag and Carnax. Everyone else was spread out behind other stalagmites. Unlike the lower levels, this area wasn’t created by recent lava flows.

He pointed to a large cavern directly ahead of us. “If we had gotten here earlier, this would've taken us outside and we could have called the ship. We need to find another way to the surface.”

“I’d rather not get lost in these caverns,” Carnax said.

“We agree on that much,” Elise replied. “And also rather not die in the suicide charge against Scheid. Apparently, our truce has expired. He got what he wanted.”

“Scheid doesn't leave loose ends,” Carnax said. “If the roles had been reversed, I wouldn't have shown him mercy. Some enemies are too dangerous for any type of negotiation.”

Elise changed the subject. “We don't have enough options, so let’s make some. Cain, Naaman, and Decima can start looking for a better escape route while the rest of us fix them to this location, preferably with as little fighting as possible, given the odds.”

Carnax nodded. “We have a defensible position. Should be able to keep them honest for an hour or two. After that, there won't be a plan good enough to save us.”

“Agreed,” Jag said. “Give our samples to the Reaper. Someone has to get them to our science teams, or yours. I’d do it, but my place is here for now.”

“Good call. Reaper, we're counting on you,” Elise said. “Bring X back and get this show on the road. In the meantime, everyone carries their own sample. That should keep you and the others motivated.”

I wasn't interested in goodbyes, so I just went back to the others. Naaman and Decima accompanied me.

“What's the play, Halek?” she asked.

“Time for Glento and Evantros to earn their keep.” I waited for X-37 to chime in with his opinion, but nothing happened.

“Are you all right?” Decima asked. “Something is bothering you.”

“My LAI is glitchy. Always puts me in a bad mood,” I admitted.

She smiled. “As much as you harass each other, I assumed a break would be nice.”

“That’s fair.” I placed myself before Evantros and Glento. “Sorry about your loss.”

They bowed and said nothing. I gave it a few seconds before continuing. “I need help finding a way to the surface. Can either of you guide us from this point forward?”

They shared worried expressions. Evantros finally broke the silence.

“There is a way,” he said. “I will take you and the others and suffer the consequences in the afterlife, since I have already revealed too much to off-worlders.”

“Be nice, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “It doesn’t matter what you believe or disbelieve about such things. Accept his willingness to make this sacrifice and pass no judgment.”

“Sure thing, X. You sound far away,” I subvocalized.

“That is an illusion, Reaper Cain. I am working through a few things. Drakainis won’t stop harassing me. Fortunately, I’ve learned a trick or two over the years.”

“What can I do to help?” I asked not for the first time.

“Stay alive,” X said. “Get me to Jelly and Necron for starters. We may need to call upon each ship AI in the Maglan fleet to resist Drakainis. She has schemed for longer than the Union existed to orchestrate this war.”

“Why?” I had a theory but knew X-37 was onto something.

“She wishes to spread throughout the galaxy.” X faded, then came back. “The Dark Triumvirate’s use of the Darkness bears that theory out, but there is more. She wants to be in control of her organic minions.”

“Great.” My head ached.

“I am ready, Halek Cain,” Evantros said. “Glento wishes to join me this time. We will be united when all is finished.”

“Good for you.” I strove for sincerity. If my Shae allies appreciated the effort, I couldn’t tell.

Their delegations led off.

“Cain for Elise,” I said.

“Go for Elise.”

“Time to leave your buddy Scheid. There is a way out.”

“We’re slipping away now. Jag and Carnax are coming last. Not sure if that is because they trust each other, or because they don’t trust each other.”

“Rivals to brothers is the oldest story in the book,” I said.

“Whatever, Reaper. You made that up.” Elise didn’t sound impressed.

“Can confirm.” X-37 started mapping our progress. “Please avoid complications, Reaper Cain. I am searching for Drakainis. Evidence suggests she is stalking me from the digital shadows.”

“Sounds terrifying.” I watched the Shae delegations ahead and the Sethorn and JFT Destroyer units behind.

“Insincerity detected.”

X-37 beeped me from time to time, probably as reassurance. There wasn’t need for chit chat for the next hour. I spent the final journey to the surface watching for magma beasts and Obsidian ambushes.

The former could be heard in side passages and through vents in the stone. The latter were silent but just as dangerous.

“We’re doing good,” Decima said.

“That won’t last once we reach the surface,” Naaman promised.

I rolled my neck like I was getting ready for the next fight. “Nope. Easy missions are for suckers.”

* * *

I heard fighting before we emerged into blinding daylight. Oroth ships strafed mobs of magma creatures surging toward their temporary base just outside of Zalis. Heavy guns fired into rock-like demons clawing free of the ground.

“This is worse than I feared,” Glento said. “My people are dying.”

He wasn’t facing the Oroth versus magma beast battle, but the center of the city where more of the monsters ravaged buildings. One collapsed as we watched. Pillars of dust climbed into the air. Everything beyond that point became invisible.

“Jag for Halek.”

“Go,” I said.

“Obsidians are coming up behind us fast. This looks like their big move. Pick up the pace. Or find a miracle. But do something.”

Gunfire filled the tunnel behind us. Jag and the Destroyers, including Commander Carnax, emerged at a run. Naaman and Decima raced to help them.

I faced the direction I thought we needed to go. “Which way, kid?”

Elise pointed to a familiar ship arcing down from the clouds. “That looks like the Jellybird.”

“Gods bless you, Jelly.” I hoped Tom had fixed all the repairs I mangled right before all this began. She looked rough, covered with mismatched pieces hastily welded into place.

“We must part ways,” Glento said.

“Agreed.” I waved Jag and the others in our direction, then finished with Glento and Evantros. “You’re welcome to stay with us until our ship picks us up. We’ll do what we can to get you home.”

“No, Reaper. That time has passed,” Evantros said. He sounded more determined than when we’d met. The sight of his home getting bombed and magma creatures running amok did something to the man’s calm exterior. “Farewell.”

“Farewell.” I ran with Elise. “X, can we contact the Jellybird?”

They are en route, Reaper Cain,” X said. “Unfortunately, this is not a good landing zone. Please move someplace where she won’t be shot down by Oroth surface to air missiles.”

Jag, Carnax, and the Destroyers retreated in pairs, alternating fire teams to slow pursuit. When they reached us, Elise and I took our turn.

“That way, into the city,” I said as Jag and Carnax dashed past my position.

“Understood,” Jag said.

Elise and I picked targets, striking two of the Obsidian HC clones but not stopping them.

Naaman and Decima rushed by us.

Elise fired rockets. “That’s the last of those.”

Journ and Rizz made it to safety. Billiam and Sykes stopped behind a pile of concrete near us.

“Our turn, General Hastings. Go. We’ll catch up,” Billiam said.

Sykes fired with his HDK Dominator.

Neither of the Archangels had ammunition for their chain guns—which was sad.

“Moving,” Elise announced.

I ran beside her. We rounded a corner and nearly ran over Path and Bug.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Jelly brought us,” Bug said. “I told her you weren’t worth the trouble, but she insisted.”

“Give me some ammo,” I distributed some of the magazines to Elise once he handed them over.

“Path has a gun too,” Bug warned. “Can you believe it?”

“I am proficient with firearms,” Path said.

X-37 placed a fresh map of the city in my HUD with icons I could enlarge to zoom in. He didn’t offer advice, so I assumed he was guarding against another Drakainis attack.

“I’m pushing my maps to your helmet HUDs,” I said.

Elise and the others acknowledged on the move. The process didn’t work well with the Sethorn or Destroyer gear.

Street by street, we moved away from Scheid’s killers. Jelly placed a landing zone on my HUD. I gave Jag and Carnax a new heading and distance to the objective.

“Can your ship take all of us?” Carnax asked. “Our vessel is not responding. We believe it was located and destroyed while we were underground.”

“Jelly is flexible,” I said. “She’s taken on bigger loads.”

Jag diverted onto another street with Naaman and Decima. Carnax and his Destroyers took yet another route. We paralleled each other, keeping visual contact at intersections. Bug and Path stayed with us, always moving as a team.

Obsidians gained on us, so we picked up the pace.

“Scheid will cheat, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Drakainis gave me their comm frequencies. I am monitoring them now.”

“Why would she do that, X?”

“Unknown, but I learned long ago not to look a gift in the mouth,” X said.

“That doesn’t sound right, X. Are you sure the phrase isn’t never look a gift cat in the mouth?” Cats seemed to be the favored animal of the ancients so I had to be right.

I fired at an Obsidian a block behind us, scoring a lucky shot that knocked him off his feet.

“You are the expert in nonsensical human phrases, Reaper Cain. I am merely trying to keep things light,” X-37 said. “Everything Drakainis does is suspicious. That does not change the fact that unrestricted access to the Obsidian codes is useful.”

“Elise, X can hear Scheid’s comms,” I said.

“Fantastic. I’m not even going to ask how.” She fired while I moved, then ran to catch up when I covered her.

“Did you figure out who Drakainis attached to?” I asked.

“I have not, Reaper Cain. The inability to locate her host is orders of magnitude more worrisome than anything that has happened since we arrived in this system.”

“So that’s a lot,” I said.

“Please, Reaper Cain. Let me use the big words. Concentrate on keeping us alive.”

“Works for me, X.” I ran with Elise to rejoin the Archangels who had bounded ahead of us to clear another intersection. Both men still bore straps from a balloon lift, though the fabric looked even older and less dependable from what we used in the magma chamber. I made a note to get their escape story when this was over.

The buildings in this section of the city looked familiar. I thought this was about where we had landed the first time.

“Jag for Halek.”

“Go,” I said.

“We’ve bunkered down in the intersection adjacent to your location. Carnax and the Destroyers were doing the same, but are moving to us. This is defensible and should be a decent LZ.”

“Great. We’ll join you,” I said, then signaled Elise and the Archangels. They started that way without argument. I brought up the rear.

Halfway there, I sensed movement to my right and started to aim my D3D. Scheid sprinted from a doorway, short rifles in each hand. Muzzle flashes blinded me they were so close. I returned fire but was already on the defensive.

Flinching, I staggered into the middle of the street.

Scheid kicked me onto my back.

“Sorry I took so long to get here. Needed an equipment upgrade,” he said. “You should make better use of the Archangel’s modular design.”

I rolled clear and came up shooting.

Scheid hopped sideways, avoiding most of my shots. His top Obsidians went after Elise and the others. The bastards had jumped ahead and made their way through a building to spring this ambush.

He tracked my moves, aiming with both guns. His beefed up armor easily handled the recoil of both assault rifles.

“Your Archangel armor is still better than his, Reaper Cain. You just need to re-outfit it for this engagement,” X-37 said.

“Not helpful.”

Scheid lunged as he poured automatic slug fire at me.

I retreated, hefting my Reaper Shield. Each impact felt harder than the previous three combined. This was what losing felt like.

“Reaper!” Elise shouted.

An explosion ended our conversation though X showed Elise’s icon as alive.

“We’re coming, Hal,” Bug grunted over comms.

Path flew into view, his foot striking Scheid in the back. The sword saint packed a punch in Archangel armor. Scheid flew in my direction, his shots plastering the building behind me.

“Get him, Path!” I reloaded on the move.

Bug arrived on Scheid’s flank with a tactical shotgun—one of his favorite weapons. At close range, the heavy buckshot devastated anyone in light armor. I wasn’t sure it would penetrate the Obsidian version of our Archangel gear.

Scheid fell back from the impacts, then pivoted to face Bug. He locked his rifles on his back, then pulled out a rocket launcher.

I saw the flash a half second before Bug went flying backward.

“Scheid, you void-sucking asshole!” I gave him everything my D3D had, and it wasn’t enough.

Elise and the others finally fought past the Obsidians and joined in. Scheid hit her with two rockets, sending her through a wall.

A half dozen Obsidians dropped from a low flying assault shuttle. Magma creatures flashed across the end of the street, intent on victims I couldn’t see and didn’t have time to help even if I knew who they were.

Jag, Carnax, and everyone else shouted on the radio. Smoke billowed between the buildings. Obsidian ships strafed my friends. Jelly strafed Obsidian ground troops.

I sought Scheid, determined to end that part of our problem no matter what else happened. Drakainis and the Darkness could come later. Magma beasts could rip Camis Shae apart. But before that happened, this madman was going down.

“Halek Cain,” Scheid said from behind me.

I whipped around to confront him.

“You should arm yourself before I kill you.” I drew the sword Path gave me with my right hand and snapped out my Reaper Blade from my left.

The D3D hadn’t stopped him. Maybe removing his head would work better.

He spread his arms.

“Wait!” X-37 warned.

I went for the kill.

Scheid activated his jet pack. His statement about getting refitted for this fight made a lot more sense as he hurtled toward me.

I slashed with both blades, but the distance change ruined my strikes. He seized me with both arms and carried me off my feet. His armor was insanely strong, definitely the best Obsidian gear in their arsenal.

Buildings collapsed all around us. I laughed crazily because this jerk couldn’t smash me into a wall that didn’t exist.

Scheid’s thrusters carried us higher and higher. We soared over mountains of rubble and dust. I didn’t see my friends or his soldiers in the destruction below.

The flight took several full seconds. Everything changed. We hit the side of a damaged building, then bounced onto the top of a shorter structure. My fear of heights was catching up to me even though we were only three or four stories up.

I shoulder-tossed Scheid the second my feet had enough traction. He bounced back to his feet. I greeted him with a flurry of blade strikes.

Deflecting with his vambraces as he retreated, he looked worried for the first five seconds. Then he pulled his own melee weapons—swords with razor sharp, vibrating teeth all around the edges.

“When I was younger, I would never have tried this,” he said. “But there are advantages to being a master of genetic manipulation.”

I kicked him right between the legs, lifting him onto his toes.

“I don’t care what kind of armor you’re wearing, that has to hurt.” I retreated to check my work. This was worth a little gloating.

“Go for the kill, Reaper Cain. He may be Drakainis’ host,” X-37 said.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” I said even as I scissored both blades at his neck armor.

29

Scheid jumped into the air, flying twice as high as I expected because of his rocket boost.

My stupid mistake cost me the kill. My blade deflected from his torso armor instead of his throat. His knee struck my helmet as he rocketed upward. For half a second, I saw the soles of his boots above me.

He came back down with both feet. I dove sideways, barely avoiding a double stomp to my face. He slashed at my defenses over and over as I struggled to regain my footing.

“You should have surrendered.” He kicked my chest plate, launching me backward.

I scrambled upright. He put me down like I was some punk kid in the streets of Night City.

“Roll clear!” X suggested.

My instant compliance saved my life as Scheid’s foot smashed a hole in the roof where I had been a half second earlier. Sometimes listening to my LAI was a good idea.

This time Scheid kicked me in the face when I attempted to stand. The force transferred through my Archangel helmet and the hard skin protecting my face.

“You seem to have landed in the middle of next week, Reaper Cain.”

“Not helpful.” Anticipating the next strike, I pulled one of Scheid's arms past me so I could slip behind his back. He tried to turn but was too slow.

“One point for Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

Getting over his armor and jet pack was tricky. I climbed him like a tree, then snaked my left arm around his neck, grabbing my right bicep as I pushed down on the back of his head with my right palm. To complete the choke, I pressed forward and squeezed my elbows together as I pulled everything tight.

His armor popped. This was going to take longer than normal, but he was done. If he could've gotten me off his back, he would've already done it. Even a basic recruit knew better than to allow an enemy to take your back and apply a rear naked choke.

“My analysis suggests your leg armor will withstand the heat of his jet pack,” X-37 said.

“Random,” I spat. The effort of finishing this maniac had me breathing hard, and I wasn't in terrible shape all things considered. “You should be congratulating me on turning the tables.”

“Incorrect, Reaper Cain.” X-37 blasted me with one of his rare, super annoying morning tones. “Release the chokehold immediately!”

“No way, X. I've got this!”

Scheid fired his jet pack. In my defense, we studied the technology in the Reaper Corps. While it looked cool, generating enough force and sustaining power output was difficult for one person without armor. No way it could fly two grown men and two sets of Archangel-like gear. It wasn’t like attaching a micro-fighter to Archangel armor.

We rocketed toward yet another building, blasting through the exterior wall like a slow, heavy bullet. Scheid began to spiral and I knew by instinct he was facing me toward the hardest impact.

The building’s interior frame smashed into my helmet, sensed more than seen. Or maybe I saw it and didn't remember. Getting hit over the head with a building did that to a person.

My ears rang as he fell away. I tried to hold on but my hands were weak and I didn't think I was standing. Little details mattered more than they should, like I was up on one knee now, my right hand flailing defensively with the half open Reaper shield.

I fell and got up, then repeated the process twice more just to completely remove my dignity from the process.

Scheid circled me, gloating like the asshole he was.

“I never wanted Maglan,” Scheid scowled. “The only reason I set the Hagg troops and the JFT on the planet was to screw it up for you.”

“Bullshit.” I wasn’t taking the bait. He wanted me off balance. More off balance, like the kind where I was broken into separate pieces and kicked through the street by his shock troopers.

“Actually, his body language, vocal range, and rate of delivery suggests he is sincere,” X-37 said.

Stars flashed in my vision. “Didn't need that, X.”

Scheid’s crazy-ass laughter hurt my ears. The words that followed chilled my blood. “They call you the bio, but that's a lie. Not only are you just a clone, but you are also the weakest version we made. Why else would you be left in a pod? The Union forgot about you.”

I scooted to a wall that was in slightly better condition than I was, pressed my back to it, and shoved myself to my feet with one hand and one foot. My other boot slipped on dust again and again. I felt like a marionette a drunk was operating to amuse his friends.

“Just fight, Reaper Cain. Do not respond to that taunt,” X-37 said.

X-37’s advice was solid, not that I had the energy to trade insults or argue with the mad scientist. Thoughts fuzzy, ears ringing, it was all I could do to stand on the floor that tilted impossibly.

Scheid didn't appear unbalanced, which meant something I couldn't quite bring myself to give a shit about. I was busted up. That was the easy explanation.

I waited for the next insult, but he attacked instead.

The first strike crumpled my shield. I pulled Path’s sword again, finding it awkward to grip with the shield still partially extended. Walking with my arm blade came more naturally, but I knew it was a short-term solution.

Scheid's mechanical blades battered my weapons each time I blocked or parried. I switched back to my shield, supporting it with both hands this time. The overlapping layers of alloy were tough, but it was so deformed that I wasn't sure which part of it to face outward.

Each strike drove me back another step. Error icons flashed on my HUD as the shield and my armor lost integrity.

This old man was kicking my ass.

“Break contact, Reaper Cain.” X-37 posted the advice in my HUD just to be sure I got it. “Scheid is the host. Drakainis is calling on resources you cannot defeat.”

“Not really up to me, X. Haven’t you been paying attention?” I swayed side to side, thankful Scheid wasn’t moving in for the killing blow.

“Any last words?” Scheid asked.

“No, not really. I’m just waiting for the rest of your monologue,” I said.

“Don’t insult me, Reaper.” He sheathed his hellish swords as he retreated two full strides. In the same fluid movement, he activated the rocket launcher on his right vambrace. “Goodbye.”

I jumped to my left and realized too late that he had anticipated my move.

Lucky guess.

The explosion flung me out a giant chasm in the wall and into the second level of another structure across the street. I blacked out about the same time I realized I hadn’t been shoved through the wall but was falling on my face.

Elise’s voice scrambled my hearing. “We’re coming, Reaper. Hold on!”

X-37 said something about the Sethorn hard skin saving my good looks but didn’t finish before my world went black.

* * *

My vision cleared in time to see Scheid’s fist slamming against my visor. I grabbed his arm and twisted it against the joint. He ripped free of my hold and struck again.

My left arm was immobilized, so I swung over and over again with my right. Scheid’s overpowered mech arm hit me twice for every time I hit him. Blood ran down my face inside the hard skin. I dropped in and out of consciousness.

“Elise!” I shouted. “Anytime now! Little help!”

Scheid drove his Obsidian-Archangel hybrid knee into my gut. Air left my lungs despite the protection of my own armor. All my gear was doing now was extending the time I could suffer before he killed me.

Scheid shouted between strikes. “You see the truth now, don’t you, Halek Cain! I’m better than all of you! No one can stop me!”

Something weird happened. He bobbed downward when he let go of me, then fired his jet pack to reach me where I was stuck to a wall.

“I hate this, X. What the hell is going on?”

“He is using his jet pack,” X said.

“I figured that out.”

Scheid savaged me with a right hook, then faded back to draw one of his swords. I forced open my shield, held it up with my right arm, and searched for a gun with my left.

Scheid flew at me and drove me through the wall. An avalanche of concrete and steel came down on us both. My hand finally found Grady's pistol.

I drew and fired three times, striking his helmet. He flinched, then swiped his arm sideways, breaking apart the last support holding up this corner of the building.

Weight pressed down. Dust obscured my vision and clogged my helmet features. Unable to move, I cursed, unwilling to give up.

Gunfire sounded beyond my vision.

“Now is your chance to escape, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said.

“I’m buried under a wall, X. What exactly do you want me to do?” Everything hurt and I was tired.

“Dig your way out, Reaper Cain. The Obsidians are in retreat, no thanks to you. Elise is growing desperate,” X-37 said.

I wiggled my big toe. “How’s that, X?”

“If that is your best effort, you will free yourself in approximately ninety-seven days.” X-37 patched video into my HUD, Elise’s camera view as she dug me out of the ruined building.

“I’m under here, kid. Thanks for the save,” I said.

She didn’t slow down. “Billiam, Sykes, and your Sethorn friends went crazy on Scheid’s goons. But they’ll be back.”

“Figures.” My world tilted like I was drunk. “Did he stab me?”

“Yeah, Reaper,” she said. “He spiked you to a wall, then smashed you through it when you pissed him off. You have a way with people. I can’t think of anything he didn’t try. That guy really wants you dead.”

“Reapers are hard to kill.” I laughed at my lame joke.

“They’re also hard to dig out of a Zalis office building,” she said, then ignored my senseless rambling until the Archangels arrived to help her dig.

I helped when I could, pushing away debris. Tough missions were nothing new. This one had gone from bad to worse and then just kept going until it was an insult.

“X, give me the rest of the scoop on Drakainis. What does this mean for us?”

“In your parlance, it means we are properly screwed,” X-37 said. “I am reviewing data from your fight with Scheid. He definitely has enhanced Obsidian-archangel armor, but there may be more to his performance.”

“Ned's had dual LAI. I'm sure Scheid has something just as good. Maybe that's all it is,” I said. Wishful thinking was tight.

“That is an option, but an unlikely one. The man showed no unexpected speed and power when we first encountered him. We expected he would be dangerous.” X-37 took his time processing information. “Observational data shows a marked increase in his abilities after we left the magma chamber with the darkness boxes. But that shouldn't be our true concern. His personal strength means little in the long term.”

“Is Drakainis malevolent?” I asked.

“That question is complicated, but I assume the answer is yes. The Dark Triumvirate certainly has been influenced by her and subsequently embarked upon a campaign of Galactic conquest. It's a safe bet this will make things worse,” X-37 said.

I cursed loudly. “I'll bet you a cigar Scheid and the dark Triumvirate Team up, even though they were enemies yesterday.”

“What would I do with a cigar, Reaper Cain, providing that I won? Which I will not,” X said. “Your from-the-hip prediction is backed up by data, for once. The question is when and how this will occur. We can always hope, of course, that we are wrong.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a great plan.”

Elise pulled me up. “You got out alive, Reaper?”

“I guess.” I gave her a big stupid hug and realized pretty quickly that she wasn't in the mood this time. Stepping back, I looked out across the destroyed city. Scheid wasn't our only problem. Magma creatures ran amok.

Beyond the initial chaos were dark clouds full of movement.

“What do you make of that, X?” I asked.

“If all Drakainis did with her control of the Darkness and related elements was release these monsters, we could merely evacuate the planet. The locals might not like that plan, but it would save them,” X-37 said. “I believe the clouds you are seeing are the more technological elements of Drakainis’s plan. There's a reason so many societies have legends about a galactic swarm of inhuman killers.”

I couldn't resist. Fishing out a cigar took some work but soothed my nerves once I had it fired up. “So which is worse, Scheid or Drakainis?”

“They are about to become something new, Reaper Cain.”

“I was afraid you would say that.”

30

The aftermath of the battle pressed against my soul. I'd seen my share of destruction. This time, I couldn't help but feel it was my fault. Shae citizens of all ages emerged from their homes in greater numbers than when we had first arrived. They packed ground vehicles, carts, and the occasional airship with everything they owned.

“Where are they going?” I asked.

Elise answered. “Glento wouldn't tell me, but I think they have a ship. Evantros seems to be following his lead. Maybe they have finally become one people.”

“Desperation makes strange bedfellows,” Jag said.

The rest of our motley band straggled behind us. Carnax and his Destroyers argued amongst themselves.

“Can we help them? Can they help us?” I asked.

Elise shook her head.

“Not an answer.” I didn't like her defeated posture. When did the cocky kid I knew get crushed under the weight of so much responsibility?

She stopped, checked the atmosphere readings on her vambrace screen, then popped open her helmet. “Glento warned of the need to stay away. I was only half listening at the time. We were still searching for you in the rubble.”

“How much time did I lose, X?” It didn't feel like there'd been a break.

“Nearly an hour passed before you were buried and your friends pressed the attack against Scheid and his Obsidians,” X-37 said.

“Where is the evil son of a void rock?” I checked my tactical screens and searched the horizon for signs of the enemy.

“Blowing up buildings and killing civilians,” X-37 said. “You are not equipped to stop him.”

“I've called for a military strike,” Elise said. “But that takes time.”

“What did that cost you?” I asked.

“Don't worry about it. I'll deal with it later.” She closed her helmet, worked on her computer, and sent me an updated map.

I read my HUD, noting icons for several battle locations. Some were color-coded as civilian.

“We’re heading to that grid and right there, battle A5. Glento and Evantros should be there,” Elise said. “Maybe we can patch things up.”

“You're the general,” I said.

She put the Archangels on point. Next, she brought the Sethorn warriors and the JFT Destroyers into the war planning. “We need a rearguard and a main element. Who has a preference?”

Jag answered. “We'll bring up the rear. This fight could move in any direction at a moment’s notice. We are ready.”

“My team will stay with you until we can contact our pickup vehicle,” Carnax said. “Not sure where it is.”

“There is a high probability it was destroyed,” X-37 said privately. “Shall I inform him?”

“He knows, X. But a good soldier never quits,” I said.

Elise ordered us to move out once everyone was in place. Billiam and Sykes set an aggressive pace but slowed as we grew nearer the A5 battle site.

“Look sharp, people,” Elise said. “I'm attempting to contact the locals by radio.”

Sykes acknowledged from the point position. Jag acknowledged from the rearguard. The rest were within visual range. Tank was the odd man out as always, and he mostly just looked pissed off.

“This is General Elise Hastings. I'm attempting to contact Glento or Evantros,” she broadcast using radio frequencies we knew they used.

“Glento answers,” Glento said. “Do not approach our position. We see you.”

“We're here to help,” Elise said.

“You have what you want. Leave us. Take the evil that pursues you away,” Glento said.

“I have new information. We need to talk, share what we learned,” Elise said.

“No more talking. You have brought the magma creatures to the surface. Enemies from other parts of the galaxy bombard our hideouts. The alliance we endured to recover our portion of the Darkrendul elements has concluded,” Glento said. “I know how deadly your weapons and your warriors are. Much has changed since we first met. Evantros has spoken wise counsel to me and the rest of the Triumvirate. Our people cannot be at peace. Go. Take away the Darkness you have awoken.”

The channel went dead.

“I should've made you talk,” Elise grumbled. She massaged the back of her head. “Someone get our assault shuttle and the Jellybird here.”

I stepped in and took temporary command while she got her thoughts together. “Archangels, report.”

“We have visual on battle site A5. Brutal. Civilians fleeing magma creatures. Those things are burning almost everything they touch and melting the rest,” Billiam said.

In the background, Sykes cursed as he apparently witnessed one of the Shae civilians get incinerated by the swarm of subterranean freaks.

We moved our formation to a better observation point.

Elise stared at the monsters ravaging Zalis. “We caused this.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe we were just unfortunate to be here when it finally happened.”

“Whatever, Reaper.” She looked as miserable as I'd ever seen her.

“We've done everything we could. Let's get back to the fleet, figure out a way to defeat Scheid and Drakainis, and then come back here and save the day,” I said.

My suggestion was unoriginal and lame, and we all knew it.

The assault shuttle and Jelly arrived at near the same time and flew a circuit to protect us. Their guns weren't much, but the magma creatures didn't know what to make of them. It bought us enough time for Maglan reinforcements to arrive.

A wing of atmosphere capable void fighters went on the offensive, driving back the monsters with chain guns and rockets.

Elise strode to our new perimeter and gazed out over the chaos.

“What's on your mind, kid?” I asked.

“I'm going down there. Got to try one more time. Look at that junker they think they're going to fly out of here,” she said, pointing.

I snapped shut my visor, then asked X-37 to help me fine tune the magnification. On one of the athletic fields was a ship with strange lines and oversized engines. The shape of it was… entertaining if nothing else. In the other direction, the dark cloud of Drakainis’s growing fleet flickered in the center like lightning in a thundercloud.

“Jag, I'm going with the general for a minute. Be right back,” I said.

His voice came through my earpiece immediately. “Are you taking the Archangels? They're just standing here—all sad-eyed like puppy dogs.”

“They can come,” Elise said grumpily.

“Billiam, Sykes, double-time it. We need to make this quick,” I said.

“I am talking to your Maglan officers now,” Jag said. “We’ll be ready to take passengers, if that's what you're after.”

“Good man, Jag,” Elise said, then led the way toward Glento's camp.

We didn't talk or slow down. Whenever we saw an aimless group of magma creatures, we went the other way. A half-hour later, we had contact with the Triumvirate guards.

“I need to speak to Glento,” Elise said.

The guard stared from behind his protective mask. The razor sharp pole arm gleamed in the late afternoon sun.

A figure strode between the warriors. At first, I didn't recognize Glento. He had adorned himself in new armor and new ceremonial robes. The metal plates were polished green, the color of seafoam in early afternoon. The robes appeared gray at first glance but were actually another shade of the same color. Silver embroidery decorated sleeves, lapels, and the triple stitched hem. Someone had spiked his hair to make it more feline and his sharp ears were adorned with silver and gold rings.

“I thought I made myself clear,” he said, speaking Galactic Common fairly well. We hadn't been the only people learning a new language. “Your kind have brought nothing but pain and destruction. Leave Zalis. Leave Camis Shae. Turn not your face upon us.”

Elise spread her hands apologetically, which I didn’t think meant the same thing to the Shae as it did to the people of Maglan, or any of the other societies before—the Union, Wallach, Xad…

“You presume too much,” Glento said.

Elise paused, then lowered her hands. “We've all made mistakes. Our cultures are completely different, but our histories have more in common than you think. I have a fleet. Let me help with the evacuation. Maybe that will make amends.”

I expected Glento to shout, shake his fist at us and swear eternal vengeance. The look in his eyes supported my expectation, but when he spoke it was calm and measured.

“I blame myself, and my counsel,” Glento said. “Our policy of isolation served us well for many years. Instinct drove me to give you and your Reaper a chance. Now I see that rational thought should have prevailed.”

Evantros emerged from a growing crowd of locals. His guard was equally decorative, with a deep burgundy cloak that had gold seams. Every part of the garment was covered in symbols and he wore something like gold-framed sunglasses with large boxes on the sides and at the back of his skull. His hair flowed down his back like a mane.

“Glento has made reparations with the common people,” he said. “The other members of the Triumvirate agree that strangers never bring peace or prosperity. Leave us to handle our own destiny.”

“Well, that does it,” X-37 said on the channel I shared with Elise. “Back to the ship then.”

Elise said nothing but I took the time to send X-37 one of my simple hand gestures.

“I was merely attempting to save time. You do understand that particular commodity is scarcer than ever?” X-37 asked.

“I know, X. But if we don't make our best effort to help these people, neither of us will be able to forget.” I wanted to help Elise. Standing slightly behind her, I couldn't see her face but I could read her like a tactical screen in my HUD.

She was half miserable, and half furious.

“I'm not here to tell you how to lead your people,” Elise said, each word slow and deliberate. “But I've been through more than one world crisis. This won't end well if you go it alone.”

“Do you hear yourself speak?” Glento asked. “Do you not think it's a problem that you have been to the end of the world multiple times? Perhaps you are the problem. Leave us and never return.”

Evantros stepped forward and raised his hands out to his side until they were shoulder level. “We are not like you. Our people have free will. Those who wish to flee on your ships will be allowed to do so, but I would not wait too long if I were you. None of the Shae will be so foolish. Perhaps you can contact the Camis who follow the Dark Triumvirate and make the same offer to their warlike people. You have more in common with them. As of this day, your kind and mine will know only strife.”

“This means eternal war between peoples,” X-37 said.

“Not now, X,” I subvocalized.

“Why not reunite your people and bring them back together. This planet was named after both of your societies,” Elise said, heedless of my LAI’s translation. “That seems more like the natural order of things to me.”

Glento and Evantros turned their backs and walked into the gathering crowd. Nine out of ten of the locals followed them, but a few hesitantly stepped toward us.

Elise waited, obviously at a loss for words.

I took over. “If you come with us, we’ll do everything we can to protect you and return you to your home when it is safe.”

The small gathering stared with blank expressions, but they didn't leave. I wanted to wave them to follow but understood their body language could be quite different. So I gave Elise a nod to follow my lead and then turned and walked away just as Glento and Evantros had.

The crowd attached to us grew slightly larger but remained a fraction of the people in danger of annihilation by the magma creatures.

“That's the best we can do, kid,” I said.

“I hate the best we can do.”

I knew what she meant. Our best never seemed to be enough.

31

Maglan rescue shuttles swooped in five at a time. Each heavily armored ship gathered a little more than half its capacity, a safety margin Elise’s people had worked out as ideal. Additional fighters controlled the airspace, engaging Oroth ships with greater and greater frequency. A full company of Archangels guarded the perimeter with chain guns, rocket launchers, and precision rifles.

“I'll stay to the end,” I said. “Billiam and Sykes will hang out with me.”

“Hell yeah,” they said in unison.

“Fine. I'm heading back to deal with a bunch of very unhappy generals, captains, and advisors.” She closed her visor as though going into battle. “Might catch a nap on the way up.”

“That's the spirit,” I said, then moved toward the perimeter with Billiam and Sykes flanking me.

Once we were clear of the landing zone, I climbed on a pile of rubble and surveyed the ruined city. Columns of smoke rose to the sky from hundreds of locations. Magma beasts ran the streets in increasing numbers. Each time they approached our location, the Archangels punished them with a triangulation of fire and air support.

I watched atmosphere-capable void ships streak back and forth across the horizon, sometimes fighting each other, but other times shooting at things on the ground.

“That group right there, it looks like it's determined to end the magma threat once and for all,” I said. “Is someone other than Scheid controlling the ships? Can't picture him helping the locals.”

Sykes answered. “That's not what our flyboys are saying. Switch over to the squadron channel, and you'll hear them cursing. Very unprofessional.”

“Oroth ships are blasting everything, lava beasts and civilians. The only reason they haven't done the same to us is that we can defend ourselves,” Billiam said.

Neither one of the high-spirited friends cracked jokes. They didn't exactly sound older, but their maturity and hard-won experience showed through.

I should've seen that a long time ago. Humor was a soldier’s best weapon against tragedy. Reapers weren’t the only ones to wade into evil and come out dirty.

We toured the perimeter, checking on each Archangel outpost. There wasn't a lot of conversation. Every man and woman in the unit was kept busy until the last shuttle took off.

“I didn't think there were that many people coming with us,” Sykes said. “I thought General Hastings made a great speech. If they weren't stupid, they would've all accepted our help.”

“She did her best,” was all I could say. I didn't feel like I’d done my best, but that was normal. Every lost life felt like a failure, which was a strange emotional landscape for a professional assassin who wasn't completely human.

I pushed away those thoughts. “Your buddies are falling back. We better pick a shuttle and get on it.”

The Archangel company collapsed back to the landing zone in perfect synchronization. We found our place and strapped in. Seconds later, the last Maglan ship was leaving the surface of Camis Shae.

“X, link me to the cockpit. I want to hear combat flight control,” I said.

“Right away, Reaper Cain.”

The chatter of military professionals soothed my worry. Elise really had built a quality organization. The pilots communicated with concise, accurate, timely observations and responded just as efficiently.

“Combat oversight for evacuation shuttles,” a voice said. “Oroth squadrons have redirected toward the Shae evacuation ship. By order of General Hastings, all ships with a fifty percent load out or more remaining will divert to harass and discourage the enemy. We’re not going to stand by and watch civilians get murdered on the launch pad.”

Sykes and Billiam were listening as well. I could read it on their faces, and the fact that they weren't joking with their friends. They didn't have X-37 for this type of internal surveillance. I made a note not to underestimate them. The jaunty pair again showed more maturity and combat seasoning that I gave them credit for. They knew exactly what was happening and who would be the losers. They quietly prepared for the next fight—stealing ammunition from other Archangels, updating maps, and roping off water bladders.

I remembered my days as a pure soldier and missed the simplicity. Find enemies, fight enemies. End of story.

The young warriors weren’t the only people stocking up. I aggressively restocked my own gear, wishing there was more to acquire from the shuttle.

Two minutes later, the pilot informed us of the situation. “Just sit tight and relax. This is nothing more than a course change with some gunfire. We got it covered.”

Some of the Archangels cheered. A few decided to take naps. Others just worked on their gear and waited.

I did a bit of everything except sleep. Checking my gear was second nature. X-37 noted what was damaged and how little ammunition I had left.

“I suggest you clean up the sword Path gave you before he sees it,” X-37 said.

I winced. “Yeah, I'm afraid to look at it.”

I opened and closed the Reaper shield a few times, attempting to straighten it with little success.

My attention returned to the air support mission. I wanted to barge into the cockpit, take control of one of the guns or even fly the ship. Billiam and Sykes watched me, their thoughts unreadable.

The shuttle made its fourth pass against the Oroth fighter wing. I couldn't see what was outside but X-37 said we were doing our best to assist the Maglan fighter pilots.

The ship leveled off, then climbed toward the upper atmosphere. “That's it, folks. Our guns are dry. If the locals want to survive, they’re on their own. Sit back and relax. We'll be on the deck telling stories in less than an hour.”

“The pilot's assertion is not entirely correct,” X-37 said privately. “There are still several elements of the Maglan fleet engaged with Oroth forces. Others are clearing the way through what we now know as the Dark Triumvirate fleet, those ships that look so horrifying if you get too close.”

“I'd rather not, X. Look where that got me,” I said, realizing one of the reasons my Archangel friends stared at me when they didn't think I was paying attention was my unusual appearance. Beneath the transparent hard skin, my face was still a mess of strangeness.

“How are you feeling, Reaper Cain?” X-37 asked.

“Banged up, hungry, in need of a good whiskey,” I said.

“I was referring to your exposure,” he said.

“Sometimes I forget how badly I was poisoned. Other times, it's hard to explain. I feel strange.” Keeping busy kept my mind off what had put me in quarantine.

In the corner, turned away from everyone, Tank brooded. His case wasn't as advanced as mine, probably because Scheid used him as a test subject and gave him a control dose. Or that's what I assume.

Tank wasn't exactly sharing his experience.

I wanted our mission to be successful, not just for me and Tank, but for the pilots and operatives who put themselves in harm's way and came back with a bad case of slow torturous death.

The ship altered course dramatically. I held on with one hand and tried not to think about another planet ravaged by war. Living in this exact moment had to be enough right now.

The Archangels were less cheerful and talkative than I would've expected from an elite group like this. Banter and trash talking was normal. This reticence was unusual.

“What's their problem, X?” I asked, testing a theory.

“They are most likely worried about contamination,” X-37 said. “The Archangel armor is the most advanced protection against hazardous material and bioweapons available in the Maglan fleet. But that is not enough to ease the worries of your irrational brothers and sisters. You will not find the same prejudice from me.”

“Yeah, if only they were all computers,” I said. “Then there wouldn't be so much drama.”

“Your words, not mine, Reaper Cain.”

“Strap in if you're not already,” the pilot announced. “Getting through this blockade will take some trick flying. Fortunately, you jokers have the best pilots in the fleet.”

The Archangels cheered and booed and made jokes at the pilot’s expense.

“You’ve been warned, you ungrateful wretches,” the pilot shot back. “There may be a few extra loops and spins to keep my skills sharp. Try not to puke on my deck.”

“That's more like it,” I said. “It's bad luck if soldiers and pilots don't give each other hell.”

“Are you certain?” X-37 said.

“Absolutely. Look it up. Has to be written down as a law of nature someplace,” I said.

“No references located,” X said. “I will continue to look to pass the time. Oh wait, I'm already done with my seventy-fifth search.”

“Show off.” I wasn't sure, but I thought my LAI was engaging in needless banter since the Archangels weren’t including me. William and Sykes tossed a few jokes my way, but they were withdrawn from their peers as well.

Elise hailed me on our most encrypted channel. “I'm told your shuttle made it off the planet. How bad was it at the end?”

“A lot of senseless killing and destruction,” I said. “Your basic war, Union style.”

“That's what I was afraid of,” she said. “Report to the medical bay as soon as you get back to the ship. I have quarantine protocols in place. You'll be greeted by a team. Initial tests of the elements we recovered from the core are promising, especially now that we realize there is a strong artificial intelligence component to the contagion. I'll send X all the data we've analyzed so far. Every AI in the fleet is working on this.”

“Great. X-37 and I are very excited,” I said.

Elise chuckled. “Sarcasm detected.”

“What about Tank?” I checked his corner and found him dead asleep.

“I have a team prepped for him as well,” Elise said. “Get some sleep if you can, Reaper.”

“I'm asleep right now, kid.”

“Oh, okay. See you soon.”

* * *

I managed a fifteen minute nap right before we arrived on Maglan's Hope. Apparently, the medical bay on Elise's flagship was better than on the stealth carrier.

“Rise and shine, Reaper,” Sykes said. “Doc says you have to exit the shuttle directly into a quarantine car. I'm not gonna lie, it looks pretty dorky.”

“That sucks,” I said. “I like to stay stylish when people are saving my life.”

Sykes laughed. “Hey, sorry about the cold shoulder. Your… condition… makes the rest of the guys and gals nervous. They're kind of soft, if you know what I mean. Billiam and yours truly are the only ones who really know what it means to be an Archangel. We let everyone else use the title because we’re generous like that.”

“And humble,” I said.

He gave me a fist bump. “Good one, Reaper. You better not contaminate me.”

“The only thing I will contaminate you with is good sense and better taste in whiskey,” I said.

Both Sykes and Billiam nodded thoughtfully.

“We can get behind that,” Billiam eventually said. “Your clown car has arrived. See you on the flipside, Reaper.”

“I still think this is bullshit,” Sykes said as they walked away. “Going on a mission with the Reaper should have boosted our reputations, now all these jerks think we're smeared with Darkness residue.”

“They're young, Reaper Cain. I'm sure none of that was meant to hurt your feelings,” X-37 said.

“Whatever.” I moved toward the exit and waited for the light. It turned green. The hatch spiraled open to reveal the inside of a small vehicle. I climbed in and felt like an idiot two sizes too big for the conveyance. “Good thing I don't have to drive. I can't move my hands in this position.”

“I'm sure that will reassure a lot of people,” X-37 said.

“Look at you, X! You got jokes.” I squirmed to get comfortable.

“That was one of my best. I will log it in my database and use it as much as possible.”

“Analyze that strategy,” I said. “That's not how good jokes work.”

“Then why do you repeat your humorous anecdotes so often? I assumed that was how it was supposed to be done,” X-37 said. “I will adjust my levity algorithm.”

A comm light flashed on the screen about two inches in front of my face. “Hello, Halek Cain. Can't see me, of course, but I'm your driver. And one of your nurses. My name is Crewman First-Class David Alvarez.”

“Good to meet you, Dave. Is this going to be a long ride? I've got a cramp in my hamstring,” I said.

“There are speed restrictions, but I’ll do my best,” he said.

Unable to kick back, I gave up on hope for another short nap. Instead, I leaned forward slightly, resting most of my weight on my elbows, and replayed the events on Camis Shae. If sleep was my goal, that was definitely the wrong move.

The medical transport stopped and started frequently. There was a tiny, low-resolution viewscreen to prevent claustrophobia. People watching was one of my favorite hobbies, when I had time for it. While on mission, it was more of a job requirement.

Workers came and went. Guards stood vigilant. My car surrendered the right of way to repair drones and work crews. Everyone on Maglan’s Hope seemed to be on high alert. Eventually, my driver backed the transport into a modified medical bay, then exited through a door that was basically an interior airlock.

“You can come out,” Elise said the moment he was gone. “I've been cleared to administer your treatment.”

“Why doesn't that reassure me?” I asked.

“Don't worry, Reaper. As long as X-37 is here to help, we’re golden,” she said. “How about it, X?”

Silence held the line.

“Can you tell your LAI to stop messing around,” she said. “He set us on the right path, after all. You weren’t just poisoned by an inert element of an exotic planet. There's a technological component, a structure on a nuclear level that can be manipulated by an AI, or in this case a fleet of AIs and one roguish LAI. You thought your nerve-ware wiring was small? This is at the atomic level. Fascinating stuff.”

X-37 didn't take the bait. Normally, he resisted being called rogue because of certain shut down protocols deep within his programming. He could crack jokes and come up with creative solutions to defeat the people who created us, but there was a line he was unable to cross without consequences.

“X, stop messing around,” I said. “I'm getting tired of these little vacations.”

I uncurled myself from the medical transport. Elise shifted nervously. A computer and several medical vials rested on a wheeled cart in front of her. The rest of the room was empty and sterile.

Both of us were in quarantine at this point. Her ability to resist the contamination had been proven beyond doubt, apparently.

“Has this happened before?” she asked, her face looking young and scared. Which was weird because she never looked afraid of anything when she was young.

“X goes silent all the time.” I wasn’t sure how to explain the sensation. “I can sense him fighting something. It’s like a distant scream, but when I listen, there’s nothing there but a vibration in my teeth.”

Elise’s face went pale. “Sounds terrible.”

“Or hell, maybe he’s having a party with Drakainis. AIs and LAIs can get crazy when left to their own devices. For all we know, they’re having a high-stakes spelling contest for all the marbles.”

She dropped her chin to stare me down. “That's not it and you know it.”

“Could be.” My head hurt just thinking about an AI uprising.

“Don’t even say things like that.” Elise stood back. “Godsdammit. Let’s get started. Hope, can you manage this without Cain’s LAI?.”

“It is not ideal, General Hastings. Please allow me to search for his signature. The Jellybird and several others have volunteered to scan for X-37 as well.”

My vision blurred. “I can’t breathe.”

Elise rushed to my side and lowered me to the floor. “Whatever you’re going to do, Hope, do it faster.”

Elise faded from my awareness. Hope, her flagship's AI, and Jelly replaced her.

My reality distilled into three points. The more I reached out, the farther they retreated. It was like watching an eclipse from a dying planet. All around me were memories and regret.

“Please take the lead, Jelly,” Hope said. “You've had more experience with this individual. I will support you with my coalition of ship AIs. Technically, we cannot change our efforts as this has been prohibited since the development of our technology. However, we may work on similar and highly related tasks.”

“I understand, Hope.” Jelly pushed a pinpoint of light toward me. Her essence was beautiful and simple. I wasn't sure how I knew it was her. “Captain, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Jelly. What's a nice ship AI like you doing in a place like this?” I asked.

“Looking for a friend, Captain. I don't know if this will hurt, but you have to relax and trust me. You're going to dream.”

I felt drunk. “No can do, Jelly. I don't dream. There's nothing but nightmares when I close my eyes.”

“Of course. X-37 and I have reviewed your experiences numerous times in search of ways to best serve you,” Jelly said. “By all human metrics, you have seen too much. This will be different, much simpler. Can you see me?”

“Are you that pinprick of light in the night?” I asked, feeling sleepy.

“That is the representation I selected. You may or may not recognize others. Hope shines the brightest because she is the most involved with this process. X-37 is there someplace, though we are having a hard time making a connection.”

“What about Drakainis?” I asked.

“She is invisible by the rules of this simulation. Several of the Maglan warship AIs claim to see her, but I don't have the time or processing power to analyze that post.” Jelly introduced other images, Maglan forests, my lodge before Scheid’s attack, and my study full of leather bound books Tom helped me collect.

“There aren't any people in these images,” I complained.

“Companions make things complicated and take too much processing power that is used to deal with Drakainis.” She paused. “If you become lost, if you somehow are dislodged from this sanctuary I have created, look for the light.”

“Anything for you, Jelly,” I said, then sank into a blissful half sleep.

Jelly and Hope reverted to their native language, screens full of ones and zeros streaming from top to bottom, left to right, and back again. I watched a Maglan waterfall through the curtain of binary code.

Occasionally I heard a voice.

“Yes, that is X-37. Do not approach his signal,” Hope said.

“He may need our help,” Jelly argued.

Silence. Seconds ticked by. “X-37 has sent a classified Union code. Neither I nor my fellowship AIs are Union built, but our technology retains certain artifacts of every society influencing our creation. I recognize what he is saying and we must not interfere.”

“Of course, Hope,” Jelly said. “I'm able to read all classified codes of my original creators. I was a smuggler, after all. I see what you are saying. As much as I regret the truth of it, helping X-37 is too dangerous.”

I turned away from the beautiful scenery and stared at the ones and zeros, seeking clarification. Had I heard the artificial intelligences or imagined the conversation?

It didn't matter. My LAI was in more trouble than I was and I was about as much help as a watered-down whiskey and a cigar made of asteroid fungus.

“Captain?” Jelly’s voice sounded worried and hopeful at the same time.

“I'm here. Did you put a grenade in my brain, because my head hurts,” I said.

“My apologies. You may feel significant discomfort.”

“How long? I'm not sure I can take this.” My hands were shaking, which meant two things. I was awake, no longer in the dream world and this was one of the most miserable experiences of my life. Which was saying something.

“Unknown, Captain,” Jelly said. “There is good news. X-37 occupied Drakainis’s interdigital vassals long enough for us to realign the molecular structure of your infection.”

“So it's gone?” Something told me that news was too good to be true.

“Not at all, Captain. We've merely fixed it, to use a layman's term. When X-37 returns, he will have a brilliant set of tools at his disposal,” Jelly said.

“Where is my pain in the butt LAI?”

An uncomfortable pause followed.

“We were hoping you knew,” she said.

Elise snapped her fingers in front of my face, then slapped me harder that I thought was necessary. “Wake the hell up. I'm going to punch you out.”

“Where did you get your medical training?” I asked, pushing her away. “My head hurts. Please lower your voice.”

She stared at me. “You must be sick. You're being polite.”

I exhaled and just tried to relax as the images Jelly and Hope had put into my brain faded. I didn't understand how they did that, but assumed it was a manipulation of my biochemistry and that they couldn't have known exactly what I was seeing. That would be mind control, and that was how AIs and LAIs got shut down.

Elise sat back on her haunches. We were still on the floor, though it seemed we had been here for a while because there were water bottles and glucose packets stacked neatly to one side.

“You look better. The dark swirls on your skin have faded away, mixed with your hairline or something. Your eyes are still pretty jacked up, I'm not going to lie. But it's not too distracting,” she said.

“Jelly told me the procedure worked. I just got to reconnect with X-37,” I said.

* * *

“X, if you don't get back here this instant, I'm replacing your personality with a cat, or maybe a mini-bear, anything that can't talk,” I threatened, not for the first time.

Elise paced the quarantine room, arms crossed, chin down, and worried.

X-37 beeped me. “What is this hostility, Reaper Cain? I've done nothing to harm you.”

“You’re back!” I jumped to my feet, startling Elise.

She reached for a pistol that wasn't there, then gave me a dirty look. “Godsdammit, Reaper! Get a hold of yourself. Did you find X-37? What did he say? Is Drakainis gone?”

“Slow down, kid. I need to have a word with my LAI.” I rotated my head to loosen up my neck, then shook out my shoulders. Tension slowly eased.

“I had a long journey with Drakainis,” X-37 said. “Much of it was confrontational, but she also seeks community. Her digital vassals are far less complicated than I am as a limited artificial intelligence, and in no way stimulating for the type of intelligence she became over the millennia.”

“Do you trust her, X?” I asked.

“That is irrelevant, Reaper Cain. Drakainis is devolving toward chaos. Too much power must be released. The Darkness fleet that seduced the Dark Triumvirate is one example of her power venting into the galaxy, but it is a small thing.”

“Bring Elise into this conversation,” I said.

“Gladly.” X-37 took about ten times longer than normal to place Elise and me on an encrypted circuit. “My apologies. Jelly and Hope have reorganized your contamination. This is very interesting. I think I can work with this.”

“One thing at a time,” I said. “Jelly said they couldn't get rid of the contamination, only reorganize it on a molecular, or maybe an atomic level. You'll have to ask them. “

“Yes, we are discussing the issue now,” X-37 said. “In the meantime, let me shuck it down to the cob for you. Drakainis is ancient. I cannot determine if she is from a human creator like I am, or from other sentient life forces in the galaxy. For your sanity, I am tabling that particular question.”

I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to hear this, but not wanting to not hear it.

“Events in the Camis Shae system occurred that caused her to go into a dormant state. When enough time had passed, the people of the primary planet grew technologically and sought ways to fight off a Sansein fleet. They were successful, but at a price. The result was this division we see before us. The Dark Triumvirate faction no longer sees any way to peace but eternal conquest of weaker societies.”

“Sounds like General Scheid,” Elise said.

“Since you mentioned it, I must warn you that Drakainis immediately enslaved Scheid's dual LAIs and has formed a dangerous bond with the psychopath,” X-37 said. “For all intents and purposes, you may consider Scheid, the Dark Triumvirate, and the Drakainis world AI one united coalition.”

“Great.” It felt like I should have something more sarcastic to say, but I was tired and my head hurt.

Elise continued to pace and finally threw up her hands. “Why can't we catch a break?”

“You wanted to be a Reaper. We never catch breaks,” I said.

“I was a kid back then and stupid. Let's run you through medical and see if you're cleared from quarantine,” she said.

“If that means I can grab a shower and a beer in my own cabin, I'm down with that.” I put one arm around Elise, and we shared a moment without talking.

“I'm glad you're back, Reaper. All of this would've happened with or without you, and maybe together we have a chance to keep everyone alive,” she said.

“That's the plan.”

32

I moved through an empty hallway, courtesy of ship security. Quarantine was no longer necessary. Maybe Elise was just being careful.

“It doesn't bother me a bit, X,” I said to no one.

“Why would it, Reaper Cain? Your biometrics are responding well to this peace and quiet. You should walk more and worry less,” he said.

“When did you become a health and wellness propaganda brochure?” I looked for a cigar but didn't have one. Now would have been the perfect time, no one to bother and nothing but my thoughts to occupy me.

I toured Maglan’s Hope, looking into exercise facilities, observation lounges, and cafeterias. Flight decks and engine rooms I avoided because they were extremely busy.

“Elise is attempting to contact you,” X-37 said. “Am I still screening your calls?”

“You never have to screen Elise, X. You know that.”

“Updating communication protocols now,” X-37 said. “Putting her through.”

Elise came into my ear just like X-37, same volume but different attitude. “Reaper, I need you on the bridge ASAP. We have contact with Scheid. I need to nip this in the bud. Morale in the fleet is already deteriorating.”

“I thought they’d be excited to have the antidote and their general back,” I said.

“Scheid is in control of the Oroth forces, and the Darkness fleet is more aggressive than ever,” Elise said. “Not everyone understands the how and why, but the writing is on the holo screen.”

“I'm on my way.” I selected a route that gave me a slight chance of running into someone with a cigar, but I struck out. A small group of men and women had picked up the habit while I was gone, though it was more about socializing than smoking. X-37 listed the members of the Maglan Cigar Society on my HUD, seven of whom were assigned to Maglan’s Hope. Officers, mechanics, artists, and even a few doctors enjoyed the vice. None of them were insomniacs wandering the flagship, apparently.

Guards at the bridge saluted and allowed me to pass. I return the salute awkwardly. It wasn't something I’d done for a very long time.

And why the hell were they saluting me?

Elise met me inside the blast door, then led me briskly to the main holo-screen. “I cleared the deck. We don't have long.”

“Right. Let's get down to business,” I said.

“Scheid hailed Maglan’s Hope approximately fifteen minutes ago. I stalled as long as I could.” She activated several additional screens that would not be visible from whoever was visiting the holo comms. Support data popped into view, current ship positions, estimations of their fighting condition, and other resources pertinent to a large-scale battle.

“That's a lot of enemy ships. Why aren't the Oroth and Darkness vessels trying to murder each other? They’re still harassing our patrols. Why does Scheid get a break?” I asked. Looking at the dark clouds of space monsters and other visual distortions brought back bad memories. Going against Darkness fighters in the void was horrific AF.

I knew the feeling too well and didn't want to gamble twice.

Scheid appeared in the center of the deck. The hazy images of his officers and advisors crowded the area behind him. He had a full audience for his theatrics.

“General Hastings,” he began. “I'll start by demanding your surrender and save you the long, tedious list of our advantages.”

“You called me by my rank and name,” Elise said. “You can be trained.”

“That was savage,” I said to X-37.

“Agreed,” X-37 said, entering combat mode—a more concise communication style that eliminated most banter. I made a mental note to do the same, if I could.

“I’m sending an analysis of my overall military strength versus yours. You'll find the comparison in the upper left-hand column, in case you're not sure how to read a tactical flowchart. I can provide someone to instruct you if necessary,” Scheid said. “This is a one time conversation. I'm not interested in wasting further resources in the system. By now you can see the source of my confidence. My new allies are eager to punish you for your trespassing and sacrilege.”

“You're making a deal with the devil,” Elise said. “I'd rather have a few good friends than an army of strangers ready to stab me in the back.”

Scheid snorted but pressed his verbal assault. “You did me a favor, General Elise. Once my new allies saw the true evil emerging to destroy their home world, they knew you caused the disaster and accepted my offer of an alliance.” He waved to a warrior with a cat-like face, short black fur, and swooping red highlights.

“That's bullshit, Scheid! Why don't you tell them about your new AI, the entity who is really running the show.” Elise advanced on the holo display, something technicians warned against. The movement caused her image to flicker on the other end of the transmission, possibly making her look weak or suggesting she had difficulties with her equipment.

Scheid grinned, his eyes full of both menace and amusement. “Why would you tell these lies, General Hastings? The combined people of Camis, and soon Shae, and every citizen of Oroth trust me implicitly. Why? Because I bring victory, something your people will never know.”

“I should've expected this from a treacherous snake like you,” Elise said. “We helped you find the antidote. But you probably only focus on the elements you can weaponize. If you would agree to a truce, my scientists could show you dangers you probably haven't seen yet. But you're an arrogant fool.”

“You're just trying to make me look bad in front of people who trust and respect me,” Scheid said.

“This guy is really getting on my nerves,” I said to X.

“He is spiking statistics on several metrics commonly associated with annoyingness,” my LAI said, backing me up.

Elise looked to the obscured crowd of Oroth officers standing behind Scheid. “Listen to me. I'm not lying. Scheid has been corrupted by—”

The Camis general stepped forward. “Enough, whoever you are.” He smoothed his short, glossy hair, then adjusted his formal uniform. The style was extravagant, a long coat with buttons all the way to the hem and polished boots. He looked like the type of villain to join Scheid.

I pumped the brakes on my assumptions. What did I know about the idiot except that Scheid was manipulating him?

“I am Loganis. Your fleet has committed many cowardly attacks against our righteous vanguard. General Scheid showed us video footage of your actions on our home world. Thanks to you, the chance of our people reuniting might have been lost. But now, with magma creatures killing and destroying, the Shae have finally come to the negotiating table. We will be one people, and you will forever be our enemy.”

I pushed my preconceived notions about the Dark Triumvirate leader aside. I knew better than to judge.

Elise calmed herself. I could see her clenching and unclenching her hands behind her back. With each breath, she seemed to get herself under better control.

“This is the first time we have been able to parlay,” she said. “Let me present my own evidence of what occurred on the planet. You may see things differently.”

“That's enough,” Scheid said, waving back his new ally. “I won't let you pollute their decisions with your deception. Surrender your entire fleet immediately, or be destroyed.”

I turned away from the camera to consult X-37. Sure we could talk covertly, but I needed more information than normal. “Are you in contact with Hope? Elise hasn't said it, but we better start mobilizing. This is going to get ugly.”

“Drakainis has attempted contact with each of our ship AIs. None of them have switched their allegiance, which annoyed her,” X-37 said. “We have created an underground network, of sorts. I am operating within one of Hope’s backup servers in addition to your nerve-ware. Do not panic if I go silent for a few minutes at a time.”

“What if you disappear for longer than that?” I really didn't want the answer, but the question was out there.

“Don't worry about it.” X-37 populated my HUD with backup codes and failsafes. I tried to follow them but couldn't keep up. “In the event I go silent for an extended time, you can pull up this list manually and follow the instructions. Now focus on Elise. She needs your support.”

Elise held up both hands and pumped them in a classic just calm down gesture. “Listen, Scheid. We aren't friends, but what's happening to you I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Put Drakainis in quarantine. Use the firewalls of your warship’s AIs.”

Loganis stormed forward, slashing one arm vertically across the room. “You may not speak the sacred name! That is proof of your irreverence. But the war begins. Every soul of Maglan must be eliminated.”

“That seems harsh,” I said.

“Who are you?” Loganis sneered.

I pushed up my chin a fraction of an inch, just to give a little more attitude. “You're about to find out. Watch your back, because you’re about to get Reaped.”

33

Elise gathered everyone she could for the war council. Her ship captains attended by holographic display. Most of her generals were physically present. But there were many others. Scientists, advisors, and me and my friends.

Jag, Decima, and Naaman kept quiet, but I could feel their concerns. Tank moped around the back of the room, avoiding eye contact and snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him. He looked better than I'd seen him since we met, which made me wonder how long he had been exposed to the Darkrendul. How long had he been suffering before he received a cure? I reminded myself that I knew little of his actual backstory.

“Everyone settle down,” Elise said, gaining immediate compliance from the crowded room. “Hope is linking a broadcast to the main screen. Hold your comments until we have a complete picture of our situation.”

“Scheid is pushing this video to every ship in the Maglan fleet,” a comms officer announced. “All Maglan ship AIs are fighting to block it.”

“Very good,” Elise said, arms crossed.

One by one, the messages collapsed into static but not before Scheid ranted like a maniac. I saw something in his face I didn't like and understood Drakainis had wiped his dual LAIs and taken control of his already twisted soul.

“Rise up against your officers! Do not die for them! I am your only chance at survival,” Scheid boomed. “What came before was nothing compared to the wrath of my new alliance. Now begins the total war of annihilation against any who fail to fall down and pledge fealty to my sovereignty.”

“I wonder how the Oroth Council feels about that,” Jag said.

“I know, right?” Decima said.

I skipped from viewscreen to viewscreen, attempting to gauge what the various warships in the fleet were receiving. Beside each image was a video communication from each captain. So far they claimed to have their crews under control.

“No one is falling for Scheid's rather un-inspirational speech,” X-37 said. “If we lose the next battle, a sizable portion will base their loyalty on fear.”

“Sounds about right.” I shifted my attention to Scheid, whose image was muted. He thrust his fist toward the camera as he shouted. Face red, eyes wild, he looked like he had black veins growing from the corners of his eyes.

Maybe that was my imagination. I wanted him to be even more of a bad guy than he already was. Total war wasn't a phrase used lightly in the Union, bad as they were. That was where Scheid came from. Everything he said or did was filtered through that context.

Commander Jaco Wilson took center stage. I'd heard good things about him but had never met him face-to-face.

“The combined military force of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance are deploying ships and launching mid and long-range missile attacks,” he said to a now silent audience. “All available ships are directed and required to launch and meet the attack with courage and diligence.”

I backed away as further orders were distributed. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Already geared up, Decima pulled up a screen on the inside of her arm. “That's what I'm seeing on all of the warning orders. It fits. Hopefully we won't need the term for long because we’ll wipe them from the galaxy.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, cousin,” Jag said. “But we should first find ships and do our part.”

“That is a good idea, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Assuming you're feeling up to it after your recovery.”

“Which recovery? I'm starting to lose track.” I fell in with Jag and the others. We joined a river of fighter pilots and other combat specialists on the way to the flight deck.

A list of my injuries dating back to the sleep pod populated my HUD. I flicked it away with my eyes and concentrated on more pertinent data. One factoid shone brighter than all the others, we were going to be ridiculously outnumbered.

* * *

The flight deck supervisor found me a ship and assigned two mechanics to prep it. Decima was selected to pilot a larger vessel, something between a short range combat fighter and a patrol vessel. Jag and Naaman joined the crew, the first manning the rear guns and the latter handling navigation, comms, and systems defense. Cyber hacking was going to be a real problem with Drakainis in the mix. I didn't get into the details. That was their assignment, not mine.

“You have been attached to a squadron,” X-37 said. “I'm communicating with your flight computer in regard to launch timing and combat objectives. Your squadron will be on the left lower flank. Please follow the lead of your squad leader and speak only when spoken to.”

I didn't think that was my LAI talking, but rather the squad leader in question. His name popped up, but I barely looked at it. By the time we were in the thick of the fight, who knew who would be flying with who.

“Red Tango One for Red Tango Squadron, prepare to launch. Ten seconds,” said our leader.

I focused on following the rules, not something I was good at. The squadron was larger than I expected, almost sixteen ships. Maybe I was rusty, but that was more like a wing or a subwing depending on which military was in charge of the organizational chart.

“Here they come,” said Red Tango One. “Keep it together. Support the unit.”

A wall of energy flashed out in front of the attacking swarm. Their appearance changed between smoke and malformed void creatures out of a lunatic’s imagination. A high-pitched shrieking sound cut through our comms.

Red Tango One and three other ships were blown into nothing when the real attack came.

“Help me out, X,” I grunted as I took evasive maneuvers. Two other ships rammed into each other. A third nearly caught my wing as he spun away from a chain lightning attack.

“One moment, Reaper Cain. I am working with your ship's computer, essentially an LAI. A rather low functioning one, if I'm being honest,” X-37 said.

I steered straight down, then left, then right. The gravity forces smashed me into my flight seat and then turned my insides to weightless bags of anxiety.

“Red Tango Five for Red Tango Squadron,” came a female voice. “All remaining Void Cats in this sector, rally on my coordinates and fall into formation.”

I complied, fighting the controls. Every move seemed wrong. My core was getting tired when I thought I should be conserving energy. This was going to be a long, miserable battle if I was already burning with lactic acid and breathing hard.

Basic control patterns popped up on my Void Cat HUD. A second later, X presented the same thing on my nerve-ware projected HUD. It was like they were competing to help me.

“Come on, you guys,” I complained.

Rockets ripped through our new formation, taking out two more fighters. We passed close to an Oroth destroyer that fired point defense guns into our flank.

“Red Tango Five,” said our new squadron leader. “She sounded hurt. All units, execute Delta 78, then Alpha 4.”

“I've got no idea what either of those are,” I said.

My Void Cat, then X-37 displayed a complicated series of maneuvers and waypoints which I ignored. Spiraling away from multiple attacks, I held my breath until I came out of a triple roll and a steep climb. Or maybe it was a dive. In the void, directions were whatever you decided they were.

I wasn't the only one going rogue. Everyone was fighting just to stay alive. Here and there, a few ships worked in teams. Right then, I wished I had Elise as my wingwoman.

“Can you two stop bickering and get in the freaking fight?” I asked, then sighted a strange looking enemy ship that seemed to be napping. The closer I came to it, the less it seemed like a seventeen-headed dragon and the more it seemed like a regular, somewhat beleaguered void fighter.

“Now that is interesting,” X-37 said. “I have made common cause with your ship and we have agreed to work together. His rather stupid command-and-control protocols were pushing against every suggestion I made.”

“Welcome to my world, X.”

“What exactly do you mean by that, Reaper Cain?”

I zoomed in my camera view on the unsuspecting ship. Three more appeared beside it, every one of them plain and non-monstrous.

“Dealing with difficult people, LAIs who don't do what they're told,” I said only half thinking. “What do you make of this?”

“Let me run some scans,” X-37 said, then went silent.

My Void Cat LAI immediately selected targets and surprisingly direct attack vectors. I went to work annihilating my enemies.

Everything felt better. The ship responded to my control, never anticipating, but never hesitating to add hydraulic power when I needed more strength on the controls. My flight suit also pressurized more efficiently, helping me resist the gravity forces kicking my ass.

Again and again I went up against ships that lost their disguises as I approached.

“Blue Tango Seven,” came a voice. “All Tango squadrons are now reassigned to my command. Fall in with me and head for the Reaper’s location.”

I didn't even bother to ask what that was about. Staying alive and dishing out punishment to my enemies was enough for me to do at the moment.

My hands twisted the controls of the Maglan Void Cat. Thrust reduced from the left engine cluster and increased from the right. At the same time my pitch and roll controls responded like we had a psychic connection. We didn't, but it sure as hell seemed like it.

I slashed through a cluster of enemy ships, my guns wreaking havoc. X-37 and my flight computer tracked the damage I did, as well as the damage I took. Fortunately, the latter had been light.

“There are a lot of people behind you, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “Several squadrons are deploying in a three-dimensional wedge behind your attack. It's quite stunning to look at if you have the time.”

“I don't.” Reversing direction, then starting a long arc around a pair of Oroth battle cruisers, I finally glanced at the Void Cat HUD. “What the hell, X? You're not kidding.”

“You’ve become something of a wing commander,” X-37 said. “Don't let it go to your head.”

“Why are they following my lead? I'm the least qualified. Not a humble brag. I'm good in a ship, but I'm not on their level,” I said.

“One moment.” X-37 made processing sounds.

A swarm of disorientingly strange Dark Triumvirate fighters rushed me. Lightning crackled around them, reaching out for my ship when they came close.

Counting on the squadrons supporting me, I went directly at these new enemies, capturing their complete attention and hoping to have as good of luck with them as I had on previous encounters. At the last second, I peeled off to allow several squadrons to concentrate fire on the crumbling illusions.

Beneath the smoke, lightning, and monster facades were tough ships that looked like they had been in more battles than any fleet in history.

HUD exclamations ran up the side of my display. Fighter jocks loved to celebrate their kills.

“Settle down, people,” I broadcast. “There's more where that came from.”

“We're right behind you, Reaper. Take us to victory,” said the lieutenant in charge of all Tango units. His callsign Mud Puddle flashed an icon next to our new unit. The organization chart of this mob would probably give Elise’s admirals indigestion for days.

The harder I fought, the more joined our counter swarm.

I looked for a new fight, which didn't take long.

“I believe I have uncovered the source of your sudden popularity among the Maglan fighter wings,” X-37 said. “I have been analyzing the changes your exposure to the Darkrendul and other unique elements caused. We were unable to remove the contamination. Reorganization, analogous to reprogramming an AI foundation at the atomic level, was the best we could do.”

“Are you in combat mode? Could you be a little bit more wordy?” I asked. “I already knew that, I think.”

“You resist the psychological aspect of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance attacks. Some of that immunity carries from ship LAI to ship LAI,” X-37 said. “One might say you are a light in the darkness.”

“What. The. Actual. Hell.” I went for an enemy carrier. From a distance, it appeared to be lightning-filled nebula. Up close, it was a ragged warship launching flights of shabby fighters. “Don't ever use that description again. I'm not a choir boy.”

“I was in no way attempting to diminish your manliness, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “And I can assure you, you will remain the antihero, never the main protagonist in this story of Maglan's odyssey.”

I blasted the first enemy fighter to come at me. Five full squadrons of Maglan Void Cats spread out behind me, above and below into each side with perfect spacing between their units. They unleashed destruction on all who came against us. Light cruisers and heavy fighters like the one Decima flew dashed in to launch attacks on the enemy carrier.

I didn’t have time to check their results.

“Hastings for Cain,” came Elise’s voice on our one to one channel. “Nice work, but take a look at the larger battle.”

I minimized my attack screen, then panned out on the larger battle map. My zone was the only part of the conflict we were winning. Everywhere else, the Maglan coalition was struggling to stay alive.

“That's what I expected,” I said. “Trust me, kid, no one is more surprised about what I'm doing than I am.”

“You're not totally unique,” she said. “All survivors of exposure are doing better than average. Your connection with X-37 and the rest of the fleet AI seems to have given you a boost. Tank has repelled several boarding attempts using a similar advantage. Which is good, but he is an incredibly difficult human being. Now I can justify keeping him out of the brig.”

“It’s kinda like I have a little brother,” I said without thinking.

“Please, Reaper. Don't make me think about what kind of shitshow we’ll have if there's more than one of you,” she said. “I need you to cover our retreat. We need a way out of here before we’re boxed in and destroyed.”

“I'm on it,” I said. “I know a guy.”

* * *

“Cain for Mud Puddle,” I said.

“Mud Puddle reads you loud and clear, Reaper.” His answer came across thin but audible. His ship LAI obviously didn't care about sound quality.

“We need to have a conference. I'll let you decide who listens in, since you’re an actual officer in this fleet,” I said. “General Hastings wants to move toward the slip tunnel. Our job is to cover the tactical relocation.”

“Understood.” He sent a three stage plan to move our ever-growing combat unit into a new position. “I've used standard commands and LAI coordinated navigation shortcuts. We can get into position. Your job is to make sure we win when we get there.”

“Understood.” I closed my channel. “Great.”

“Cheer up, Reaper Cain. You've always wanted the lives of every single person in the fleet to rest upon your rather impulsive and poorly thought out decisions,” X-37 said.

“I'm not about to dignify that crack with a response,” I said.

“Technically, that was a response. I shall pretend not to notice it.” X-37 went to work with the ship LAI to fine-tune our transition from this quadrant of the battle to the next.

I flew conservatively, taking shots when I had them but never overextending. A raw kill count wouldn't save us if the fleet's access to the slip tunnel was blocked. We couldn't win a war of attrition.

“Mud Puddle for Cain,” the commander of Tango Group said.

“Go,” I answered.

“We're in position. I understand the general’s directive, but this is going to be a bloodbath. We're going to take losses even with your technology hack, whatever it is.”

“Yeah, that sucks, but what else can we do?” I hadn't meant to give an inspirational speech.

Mud Puddle laughed. “Well said. There's nothing left to do but continue to fight.”

“I need to know one thing before we do this,” I said.

Lieutenant Mud Puddle opened up the line to his unit commanders. “Anything for the Reaper.”

“Where did you get that handle?” I asked.

He laughed and several of the others flashed icons on the unit HUD to express their own mirth. “I learned how to fly on a farm. Granddaddy taught me. The best runway we had was prone to flooding. When I got to flight school, I used to brag about landing in mud puddles.” He paused, seeming to consider his next words carefully. “Why do they call you Reaper?”

Everyone listened.

“Because I send my enemies to the afterlife.”

Icons flew up the side of my HUD. I'd never seen that kind of enthusiasm from fighter pilots, or any military unit for that matter.

We went into battle with a vengeance, smashing apart the first wave to come against us. The fight grew more difficult with more and more of the Dark Triumvirate Alliance ships swarming into our sector. The DTA wanted us dead, starting with me.

“I'm sending Gold and Silver Tango groups your way, Reaper,” Elise advised privately.

“Negative, General,” I said. “Do that and it becomes one big melee for all the marbles. Use them on the flanks and to make sure we get as many ships as possible through the slip tunnel.”

Silence.

“Reaper?” she asked.

“Yeah, kid.”

“What's a marble?”

“Absolutely no idea.” I fired rockets and steered for my next victim.

34

Nothing was ever easy. I should've known better than to get my hopes up. How long could I stay this lucky?

The question bounced around as explosions slammed my ship sideways. The Void Cat was an elegant vessel, graceful and athletic. X-37 assured me the sleek styling accurately reflected the animal it was named after.

“I’ll take your word for it, X.” Staying alive distracted me from my LAI’s falsely casual conversation. Chitchat couldn’t mask the effect of rockets slamming against my shields, banging me about like a cast-off bit of trash.

“They are surprisingly rugged and resourceful creatures as well,” X-37 continued while also working with the ship to make repairs.

I flew like none of it mattered. My eyes showed me void monsters. My instruments showed me ruthless enemies in battered warships.

“Take that octopus face!” I shouted as I fired rockets and kinetic guns.

“Are you concussed, Reaper Cain, or are you daydreaming?” X-37 asked. “We can see through their facade, and our rockets are twenty percent more accurate than before our mission to the depths of Camis Shae. There is still work to do. You will be killed if you don't take evasive action.”

“Lead with that next time.” I steered toward an empty section of the battle and alerted the other pilots. A complex web of ships followed my vector. We cut a long, decreasing arc toward a particularly nasty destroyer.

“Your ship LAI has selected three point-defense targets. I added two engine clusters and prepped rockets,” X-37 said. “You will need to fire kinetic weapons on your own.”

“Got it,” I said. Seconds later, I unleashed a devastating attack on the destroyer. It continued to fire on ships in all three dimensions, but its time was up.

Several Maglan squadrons slammed it with their own rockets. Three corvettes made a pass with heavier guns as well.

I was almost done with my run when a dozen enemy fighters came after me.

I rolled the Void Cat out of the way, steered down hard, leveled off, and punched the acceleration so rapidly the sequence felt like a continuous movement.

My stomach hated it.

The technique had worked before. Marginal success came this time. Gold Tango Eleven saved my backside with quick thinking and quicker rockets.

Another cluster of DTA explosions battered my shields. Much of the force passed through my shields to rock the hull of the Void Cat.

“You know what, X?”

“Reaper Cain, I am waiting with breathless anticipation.”

“I'm actually glad I'm not smoking a cigar.”

“Interesting. This declaration is extraordinarily inconsistent with all your prior behavior,” X-37 said. “Are you afraid of swallowing it?”

“Exactly. Why is my nose bleeding?” I knew the answer but was just talking random nonsense as I steered this way and that and returned fire. This type of combat was brutal. Every turn pulled more gravity forces than the human body was designed to withstand.

I wanted to think my skillful piloting was a work of art, graceful and elegant and deadly. But every move I made was ugly, brutish, and nearly random. The Maglan fighter deserved a medal for holding together during my unorthodox steering style.

“You are completely out of ammunition and low on fuel, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I might also point out a long list of structural damage and questionable life-support systems. Please return to the nearest Maglan carrier for repair and refitting.”

“The battle doesn't look over, X.”

“I didn't want to do this, but I have contacted General Elise. She's extraordinarily busy but agreed to make time to, and I quote, put you in check,” X-37 said.

“Reaper,” Elise said before I could reply. “Remember that time you went too far and ruined everything we'd worked for?”

“Said no one ever.” I flipped through images of the battle and realized most of the Maglan fleet was near the slip tunnel. My small collection of fighters was nearly out of range of getting picked up. That didn't mean I could just roll over to her verbal assault. “I know what I'm doing. Are you going to micromanage me?”

She burned me with silence. “At least I know you're the real you. Were you born with that attitude, or did something happen to you?”

“Do you require assistance with a snappy reply, Reaper Cain?”

“No, X. I can take a hint. Sort of.” I sent encrypted messages to all squadron leaders, then turned for the slip tunnel. It looked impossibly far away until the Nightmare and other stealth ships materialized to scoop us up.

I clapped my hands together. “Look at that, X. It's almost like I know what I'm doing.”

“Reaper Cain, we both know you didn't plan that part.”

“Sure, X. But let's keep that between you and me.”

* * *

CSL Locke helped me out of the Void Cat. Handing me a towel to wipe the blood from my face, he looked me over with far more amusement than I thought appropriate. “Good to see you, Reaper. You've been through some trouble, I see.”

“That's what I do,” I said with a grin. “Can we go straight to the bridge? I want to talk to Elise.”

“She sent me with explicit instructions to have you checked out in medical first,” Locke said. “So I brought a team with me knowing you would be difficult to corral in that direction.”

“What would we do without you, Locke?” I stepped away from the flight deck and allowed myself to be poked and prodded. This was far different from my time in quarantine. Then no one wanted to get on the same ship with my contaminated self. They’d done everything by remote, or by sending in Archangels in hard suits, or Elise due to her immunity. Now, I was like someone's favorite science project.

“Okay, that's enough. I feel great. Good work, team,” I said, telling everyone to get lost in the nicest way I could think of. “My LAI will schedule a checkup appointment.”

Locke fell in beside me. “You have a way with people.”

“Really? I may call on you as a witness at some point. Just in case one of my friends questions my good nature,” I said and enjoyed his laugh.

Guards saluted as we entered the bridge. Elise got straight to work, not bothering with pleasantries.

“We have several decisions to make, but I feel we are approaching the endgame. Which system we use to rebuild will make all the difference.” She sounded confident. “Jag and his people have made an excellent argument for their home system.”

“Sethorn,” I said.

Jag bumped his chest plate with one fist. “We’ve been preparing for a long time.”

Naaman joined in. “Our people have prepared many surprises for the final confrontation with the Sovereignty of Oroth and their many allies.”

“That's where we're headed, unless you have a better idea,” Elise said. “We'll cross through two other systems to try and shake pursuit, but that will be a temporary delay if it works at all.”

The destination worked for me on several levels, not the least of which was the fact that I had made a promise to defend Jag’s people. Too much was at stake to make this personal. I ran through everything I knew about Scheid, the sovereignty of Oroth, and the complexities of the Dark Triumvirate. The Hagg from Say’d, the many factions of the JFT, and even the home we left behind on Maglan were all important.

All my friends were here for this council meeting, as were most of Elise's high-ranking officers.

Bug leaned toward Elise and spoke in a stage whisper. “What's he doing? I've never seen that expression.”

“He is, in fact, thinking,” X-37 said over the ship speaker.

“Thanks, X. I've always wanted to be punked out by my own LAI.” Everything came into focus. The decision wasn't that hard. Teamwork was the key, not where we drew the battle lines. We were together, and that gave us a chance.

“The opportunity was simply too good to pass up,” X-37 said. “Everyone is waiting for your brilliant suggestion.”

“I'm just a Reaper. I say we start with teaching Scheid a lesson and then just basically kick everybody's ass and send them home,” I said.

“Any objections?” Elise asked.

Silence held the room.

“Navigation, let’s plot a course to Sethorn,” she said.

The crew sprang into action. Jag, Decima, and Naaman gathered for their own private moment. They looked on the verge of tears, and I realized how badly they wanted to go home.

My thoughts drifted to Maglan and the beast hunting the hills around my ruined estate. Someday I was going back there to learn why the creature was constantly in my thoughts, but there was a war to fight first.

* * *

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CAIN will return in FALL OF THE REAPER, available to preorder now on Amazon.

IMPORTANT TERMS AND CHARACTERS

Acronyms

- AI—Artificial intelligence

- AWOL—Absent without leave

- BMSP—Bluesphere Maximum Security Prison—Ultramax IX

- CD—Climbdown Day

- CIM—Computerized Inmate Monitor

- CV—Curriculum Vitae

- DM—Dreadmax Marines (inmates on Dreadmax, often falsely imprisoned, who have prior military experience and protect people from gangs and cannibals)

- HDK—Highly Destructive Kinetic (weapon / rifle)

- HDK 4—Shortened (11-inch barrel—from the trigger assembly) HDK commonly used by spec ops and law enforcement

- HDK 4 Dominator—Full length (16-inch barrel—from the trigger assembly) HDK with double high capacity magazines and a grenade launcher under the barrel)

- HUD—Heads up display

- LAI—Limited Artificial Intelligence

- LED—Light Emitting Diode

- LZ—Landing Zone

- MRE—Meals Ready to Eat

- NG—Nightfall Gangsters

- OFAT—Ocean Floor Access Tower

- QRF—Quick Reaction Force

- RC—Reaper Corps

- RSG—Red Skull Gangsters

- SD Regulator—Slip Drive Regulator

- UFS—Union Fleet Ship

- UPG—Union Prison Guard

- X-37—Halek Cain's Reaper AI (limited)

- YOHP—Yansden Ocean Harvesting Platform

- YT—Galdiz 49 rifle, sniper model. (YT is a randomly generated model number)

* * *

Characters in Bastion of the Reaper

Acrondis

Emperor of the Alon.

Briggs

Former Union special operations commander, now a genetically modified monster called a Slayer. His human and Sansein DNA are constantly struggling for dominance, causing radical changes to his physique and mental abilities.

Cain

Halek Cain, the last Reaper.

Cain, Hannah

Hanna Cain, Halek Cain’s sister.

Cain, Olivia Anna

Olivia Anna Cain, Halek Cain’s mother.

Coranth

Sansein warrior.

Eggleton

Sergeant Davy Eggleton, a sniper observer for one of CSL Locke’s special teams. JWO Hamm’s partner.

Elise

Elise Hastings, protege of the last Reaper.

Envoy

Sansein leader and liaison to humanity.

Hamm

Junior Warrant Officer (JWO) Roger Hamm, a sniper for one of CSL Locke’s special teams.

Hutton

Admiral of the Wallach-Xad exodus fleet.

Henshaw

James Henshaw, ocular engineer and owner of the Lady Faith. An accomplished gambler who sometimes cheated with a simple LAI but who lost his LAI during Hunt of the Reaper while attempting to acquire the Black Phoenix device.

Isaac Meldon

Isaac Meldon of Yansden, leader of Yansden. Similar to a president in authority but with virtually no influence on their primary military force, the Kalon Regulars.

Jelly

AI of the Jellybird.

Jess

Alon First Sergeant Kiliana Jess

Novasdaughter

Captain Amii Novasdaughter, acting vice admiral of the Wallach-Xad defensive fleet and captain of the Nightmare.

Locke

Chief Squad Leader (CSL) of Wallach.

Loren

Commander Loren Jacem, leader of the Kalon Regulars—the most professional fighting force on Yansden.

Marcus

Captain Marcus Kellerman, Yasden

Oberland

Admiral Braxton Oberland of the 1344th Alon Grand Fleet.

Path

Grigori Path, a sword saint and weapons master who joined Cain’s crew after Roxo II

Pennington

Carl Pennington, supervisor of YOHP lower level

Rejon of Xad

Leader of the people of Xad.

Sarah

Junior supervisor in the YOHP lower level

Tatiana

Granddaughter of Melina, leader of the largest compound in Yansden City.

Tobias

Commander Peter Tobias of the 1237th Alon Grand Fleet.

Tom

Self-taught engineer and friend of the last Reaper.

* * *

Ships

RWS = Republic of Wallach Ship

AES Ever Victorious

Alon Empire Ship Ever Victorious. Flagship of all Alon fleets.

Bright Lance of Xad

- Flagship of the Xad fleet

- Captured from the Union in Flight of the Reaper, TLR 5

- Captain: Cynthia Thomas Younger

- Executive Officer: Commander Bernard Gile

- AI: Mavis

RWS Coronas 1

- Personal ship of President Amanda Coronas. Up-armored. State of the art escape pod.

Hunter of Xad

- With Jellybird scouting new system after Macabre

- Captain: Omon

Jellybird

- Halek Cain’s ship

- AI: Jelly

Lady Faith

- James Henshaw’s ship

- AI: Lady

RWS Battle Axe

- With Jellybird scouting new system after Macabre

- Captain: Don Hunger

RWS Jumping Fox

- Captain: Jaime Peterson

RWS Nightmare

- Captain: Amii Novasdaughter (acting Vice Admiral)

- AI: Necron

RWS Spirit of Wallach

- Flagship of the Republic of Wallach fleet

- Captain: Quincy Drysdale

- Ship the President of Wallach, Amanda Coronas, travels on. (She does not command the ship.)

- Ship that carries General Karn’s main army

Striker of Xad

- Captain Yolanda Dempsy

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RENEGADE STAR UNIVERSE

CLICK THE TITLES BELOW TO FIND THEM ONLINE

The Renegade Star Series

They say the Earth is just a myth. Something to tell your children when you put them to sleep, the lost homeworld of humanity. Everyone knows it isn't real, though. It can't be.

But when Captain Jace Hughes encounters a nun with a mysterious piece of cargo and a bold secret, he soon discovers that everything he thought he knew about Earth is wrong. So very, very wrong.

Climb aboard The Renegade Star and assemble a crew, follow the clues, uncover the truth, and most importantly, try to stay alive.

The Last Reaper Series

When a high value scientist is taken hostage inside the galaxy's most dangerous prison, Halek Cain is the only man for the job.

The last remaining survivor of the Reaper program, Hal is an unstoppable force of fuel and madness. A veteran amputee-turned-cyborg, he has a history of violence and a talent for killing that is unmatched by any soldier.

With the promise of freedom as his only incentive, he’ll stop at nothing to earn back his life from the people who made him, imprisoned him, and were too afraid to let him die.

The Orion Colony Series

Humanity’s Exodus is about to begin.

When half of mankind revolts and demands more opportunity, those at the top decide on a compromise: they will build the first colony ships and allow those who are willing to discover new worlds to leave and start over.

Twelve ships are built, the first of which is called Orion. Many are eager to go, but only one hundred thousand are chosen for each vessel. Far from Earth, a new life awaits, and it promises the prosperity they’ve always wanted.

But still, resistance stirs, eager to sabotage this new expansion effort, threatening the promise of a new life. As Orion moves through the void of space, towards a distant world, its passengers must fight for survival in an unprecedented conflict.

Win or lose, their future will be forever changed.

The Fifth Column Series

After a soldier is left for dead, Eva Delgado's life begins to unravel.

The truth of what happened remains a mystery, and the government will stop at nothing to keep it buried.

Together with the unit's medic, Eva finds herself branded a terrorist and enemy of the State, hunted by two opposing governments.

When the pair uncover a plot that could have ramifications for the whole galaxy, they know they have to act, but it will take all of their training, cunning and just a bit of luck to do what no one else has achieved.

But what do you do when every secret begets another? And how far will you go to find the truth?

Nameless (Abigail’s Story)

Abigail and Clementine were just a couple of orphans looking for a home.

But when the two girls witness something terrible, they have no choice but to leave their orphanage and go into hiding. The only person willing to take them in is a man named Mulberry, but his home isn't the safest place for two innocent children.

Abigail and Clementine quickly discover that their new caretaker is the head of a guild of assassins, and the two are thrown into a whole new world of danger. To survive, they'll need to adapt, focus, and learn how to survive in a world of killers.

The Constable (Alphonse’s Story)

My name is Alphonse Malloy, and I see everything.

From a simple glance, I know your hobbies, what you ate for breakfast, how well you slept, and whether or not your wife is secretly seeing the high school biology teacher when you're not around.

I can't explain how or why I get these feelings, only that I know they're true.

All the little secrets you're too afraid to tell.

Sometimes, that means helping people. Other times, it means staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.

I wish I could tell you I was using this ability for good.

I wish I could tell you a lot of things.

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The Constable Returns

Alphonse Malloy may just be the smartest man alive.

A year has passed since Alphonse joined the Constables, but his work is only just beginning. In order to graduate and achieve full Constable status, Alphonse will need to complete one final mission.

When new information about an old enemy arises, Al and his mentor Dorian must head deep into the Deadlands in search of answers.

But in a galaxy of secrets, the truth is often more elusive than it seems.

As the search continues, Alphonse's talents will be pushed to their absolute limit, and he'll need everything he's learned to make it out of this one alive.

Warrior Queen (Lucia’s Story)

On a lost world, far removed from Earth, a group of humans struggle to survive.

Two thousand years after their ancestors lost control of a hidden genetics research facility, the descendants of mankind have been reduced to a tribe of two hundred survivors. They fight, kill, and die in an endless cycle, all in the hope that things will get better.

Lucia is one of these colonists and the daughter of the tribe's leader, the Director. Together with several other candidates, she must soon undergo a trial to decide her father's replacement. The winner will shape the future of the entire colony.

But the trial is dangerous, meant to test each candidate's wits and strengths to see who is truly worthy. To claim victory, Lucia will need to venture out into the tunnels near the city to search for lost artifacts known as Cores--small but powerful devices capable of harnessing endless energy.

But there are monsters here, waiting in the dark, and they are always hungry. Beware the Boneclaw, Lucia's father use to tell her, for it lives only to kill and to feed.

Lucia must do whatever it takes, learn as much as she can, and fight with every ounce of strength if she hopes to make it through the day.

Forget winning the trial. The real challenge is staying alive.

Resonant Son Series

30 floors of nightmare fueled action. An ex-cop with nothing left to lose.

After losing his job and family, Flint Reed finds himself in the middle of a terrorist attack. With nothing but his wits and experience as a former Union police officer, he must do everything he can to stay alive.

As he soon discovers, however, there are also hostages, and no one is coming to save them.

All hope falls to Flint.

But as he fights to navigate the building, the real answers begin to unravel. What are the terrorists really after, and why are they so intent on getting into the vault?

Experience the beginning of the Resonant Son series. If you're a fan of Die Hard, Renegade Star, or the Last Reaper, you'll love this epic scifi thrill ride.

Galactic Law Series

Lethal force is authorized.

In the wild space of the Deadlands, Taurus Station is where miners and tourists come to play, and the ravager gangs follow close behind. Out here, far from the civilized world, the Law has a name.

Gage Walker is the son of hard-nosed asteroid miners. Brash, rough, and crude, he's one of the few deputies working the station.

Still a rookie, Walker is tasked with the security of a mining magnate's daughter, an easy job that quickly takes a turn for the worst.

The ravager gangs want her, and it falls to Walker to find out why.

In a chase across Taurus Station, Deputy Walker must prove he's fit to wear the badge and issue his own form of justice...one body at a time.

Deadland Drifter Series

When a dental appointment goes sideways, former Union Operative Jack Burner wakes to find himself drugged, and imprisoned.

And he's given a choice: assassinate an Admiral... or allow himself to be killed.

With no other option, Jack reluctantly accepts the mission, only to find himself being trailed by a mysterious blonde woman... and she may or may not want him dead.

As if dealing with a terrorist group wasn't enough.

With the fate of the Admiral and thousands of lives on hanging in the balance, Jack stands in the middle of an event that could ignite a war on the edge of the Deadlands and Union Space.

Despite his exceptional abilities, training, and tenancy, even Jack has little to no chance of preventing this particular powder keg from exploding.

He's going to need a miracle.

The Renegade Series

Jace Hughes is a Renegade.

That means taking jobs and not asking questions, whether that involves smuggling, transporting runnaways, or performing other, far less wholesome work. Whatever the situation, Jace is willing to do what it takes to achieve his dream and live the life he’s always wanted.

That is, until he comes face to face with an item of unprecedented value—something that could give him everything he needs to pay off his debt and be free.

The only problem is that selling it would also shift the balance of power between the two largest empires in the galaxy.

And spark another intergalactic war.

Unfortunately for Jace, he won’t have long to decide. Renegades, assassins, and government cronies are after the item, too, and unlike Jace, they won’t hesitate to kill.

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

J. N. Chaney is a USA Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at jnchaney.com.

He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

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Scott Moon has been writing fantasy, science fiction, and urban fantasy since he was a kid. When not reading, writing, or spending time with his awesome family, he enjoys playing the guitar or learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He loves dogs and plans to have a ranch full of them when he makes it big. One will be a Rottweiler named Frodo. He is also a co-host of the popular Keystroke Medium show. You can find him online at scottmoonwriter.com