Author: Jenn Burke
Date: 2016-05-02 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; M M Romance; Romance; Aliens; Lgbt; Space Opera; Military Fiction; Action; Fiction; Gay
Description: Zander and Felix’s relationship has always pushed boundaries—personal and professional alike—but their love and commitment is stronger than ever. So strong that Zander’s ready to ask commitment-shy Felix the question of a lifetime when he’s interrupted. The Chaos is being hacked, and crucial, top secret information about the project that created Zander—and his fellow super soldiers—has been leaked. Neither man could have expected the enormity of what’s discovered at the end of the data trail: an entire colony of super soldiers run by the very doctor who changed Zander’s life forever. And now s
Publisher: Carina Press
Rights: Copyright (c) 2016 by Kelly Jensen and Jennifer R.L. Burke

Phase Shift
By Kelly Jensen & Jennifer R.L. Burke

Zander and Felix’s relationship has always pushed boundaries—personal and professional alike—but their love and commitment is stronger than ever. So strong that Zander’s ready to ask commitment-shy Felix the question of a lifetime when he’s interrupted. The Chaos is being hacked, and crucial, top secret information about the project that created Zander—and his fellow super soldiers—has been leaked.

Neither man could have expected the enormity of what’s discovered at the end of the data trail: an entire colony of super soldiers run by the very doctor who changed Zander’s life forever. And now she needs them both—Zander to train her new crop of soldiers, and Felix’s new crystalline arm to stabilize their body chemistry.

With help from the unlikeliest of allies, Zander, Felix and the Chaos crew must destroy the project and all its ill-gotten information. But when the team is split up and Felix is MIA after a dangerous run, galactic disaster is a very real possibility...and Zander may have missed his chance to ask for forever.

Book Five of Chaos Station

This book is approximately 76,000 words

Dear Reader,

I don’t know about you, but when someone asks me for book recommendations, I first ask them what some of their favorite authors or books are, so I can give them something similar, but different. Taste matching is a pretty common way of getting recommendations for anything, really, from chocolate to TV shows to books, so I decided to do some taste matching with our Carina Press May titles.

If you love Kristen Ashley...

Anna del Mar’s contemporary romance may be just up your alley. One of the things I love about Kristen is that she tends to write long, giving us a chance to dive into the characters and relationships, and Anna offers the same great escape. In At the Brink, Josh Lane is blunt, ruthless, intense and exacting; a workaholic driven by internal demons; a man who doesn’t play games, except in bed, of course, where he is always in command. Lily Boswell is trapped in a dangerous situation and Josh has no problem taking advantage of that—to protect her and to get her into his bed.

If you love Jackie Collins or Sidney Sheldon...

Remember the awesome sweeping international feel of the ’80s glam romances? The characters were wealthy, they were dramatic, and they were no-holds-barred. Join Laura Carter’s Vengeful Love trilogy as it takes us from London to Dubai in a dark and suspenseful, sinfully sexy tale of love, betrayal and sex. Pick up books one and two before diving into this month’s nail-biting finale, Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds.

If you love Josh Lanyon...

You’ll love A.M. Arthur. Both Josh and A.M. are wonderful at sweeping readers into brilliant characterization and developing relationships. In Come What May, the first book in the brand-new All Saints series from A.M. Arthur, we meet Jonas Ashcroft—son of a conservative state senator, carefree frat-boy player, and definitely not gay. But when Jonas meets Tate, he’s introduced to a life he’s never known. One filled with acceptance and sex and a love that terrifies them both.

If you love Eloisa James or Sarah MacLean...

The sharp wit of Sarah and the fabulous heroine-centric story lines of both Sarah and Eloisa are some of my favorite things about their historical romances. Amanda Weaver’s Grantham Girls trilogy shares similarities with both and is absolutely delightful. A spirited heiress is determined to land a titled husband, but an undeniable passion with a man from her past threatens both of their futures in A Common Scandal.

If you love Pamela Clare...

Suspense, romance, action...what’s not to love about Pamela Clare? Piper J. Drake follows in Clare’s bestselling footsteps with her romantic suspense Safeguard series. Kyle Yeun is a very bad man and way too tempting in all the wrong ways, but mercenary Lizzy Scott needs to keep him alive long enough to provide Deadly Testimony in court even if it means there will be no rest for the wicked.

If you love Heidi Cullinan...

Annabeth Albert is an author you should check out. Fun and fabulous, romantic and swoon-worthy. Beta Test is an enemies-to-lovers, opposites-attract road-trip romance that will remind you of all the things you love about male/male romance.

If you love Linnea Sinclair or Sharon Lee or Steve Miller...

That’s right, if you’ve been craving a dynamite space-opera romance, then you’ve been missing out on the Chaos Station series by Kelly Jensen and Jenn Burke. Love in space? Yes, please. Good versus evil? Check. An ongoing romance that sweeps the galaxy book over book? Delivered. Start where the adventure begins in Chaos Station and devour the titles leading to this month’s release, Phase Shift.

Backlist bonus taste matching:

If you love Jaci Burton...

Make sure you’re not missing out on Kate Willoughby’s In the Zone contemporary sports romances.

If you love Liliana Hart...

You’ll be enamored with the spunky Lexi Carmichael mysteries from Julie Moffett.

And if you love the Hitman series from Jessica Clare and Jen Frederick...

The dangerous hero of Didn’t I Warn You by Amber Bardan is right up your alley!

As always, until next month here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.

Happy reading!

~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press

Dedication

For Elias, our captain.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Acknowledgements

Also Available from Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen

About the Authors

Chapter One

Chloris Station, 2270

Zed eyed the table he’d set up, wondering for the fifth time if he should have just booked a restaurant. There was a nice one near the space station’s promenade, supposed to have the best hydroponic and space-grown fruits and vegetables on Chloris. Convincing the owners to close its doors to the public for the night would have been easy—just wave enough credits in their direction, and he had plenty to wave. No problem.

He checked his wallet for the time. Was it too late to make other arrangements? Maybe he could—

No. He took a breath that was far more ragged than it should have been. This was the right spot for this—aboard the Chaos, their home. In their quarters.

Right. Yes.

Footsteps pounded down the corridor, the familiar rushed cadence Flick displayed everywhere while aboard ship. It was as though the Chaos was his personal playground—which, really, wasn’t too far from the truth. Felix Ingesson—Flick to Zed, and Fixer to most everyone else—was half owner of the little ship, engineer in title. Tinkering was his trade.

Even though they’d been best friends for most of their lives and lovers for the past year, Zed’s palms grew damp and his heart skipped a few beats at the thought that Flick would be appearing in the doorway any second.

Oh God.

“Hey,” Flick said softly as the door slid open. “Elias said he got a ping from you, that you needed—” He stopped, taking in the table for two that normally did not belong in their small quarters—the candles, the single rose in a vase, and the bowls of berries and chocolate waiting for dipping. A brow slowly arched and one corner of his mouth quirked upward. “So, not a life-or-death situation or anything?”

Zed huffed out a chuckle. “No. For once.” Surreptitiously, he brushed his palms along the thighs of his pants, then gestured at the table. “Have a seat.”

Smile widening, Flick stepped fully past the door and slid into the seat in front of him. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and inhaled. “You got me strawberries.”

Zed retrieved the bottle of sparkling juice from where it sat in a reverse thermal induction sleeve on Flick’s tinkering desk and poured two servings in the champagne flutes beside each plate. “Your favorite.”

“And melted chocolate. Are you going to feed me dipped berries, Zed? Is this why everyone else is doing their own thing on Chloris, so we have some alone time?” Flick’s brows waggled.

Warmth edged into Zed’s cheeks. Kind of...though not quite for the reasons Flick was thinking, most likely. “Maybe.”

“All right!” Flick clapped his hands on his thighs, then leaned forward, eyes closed. “Feed me.” He opened his mouth expectantly.

Chuckling, Zed grabbed one of the ripe, juicy berries by its leafy cap and swiped the end through the melted chocolate, kept nice and liquidy by a flameless heater tucked beneath the bowl. He extended it slowly past Flick’s lips, the nerves coursing through him easing just a bit as Flick let out the most decadent moan he’d ever heard while they were both dressed.

“Good?” Zed asked.

Flick’s eyes opened, but the lids remained at half-mast. His green eyes looked almost post-orgasmic. “Oh my God, so good.”

Instead of waiting for Zed to serve up a berry this time, Flick did it himself.

Zed didn’t fault him for it. Fresh fruit of any sort was a luxury since, without specialized containers, it didn’t survive trips in jump-space. It was Flick’s favorite food and one he hardly ever got to have, which was the main reason Zed had talked Elias into a trip to Chloris. The fruit here grew bigger and better than anywhere, save maybe Earth. He helped himself to a berry, but his enjoyment of the taste paled in comparison with his enjoyment of indulging Flick.

“So what’s the occasion?” Flick asked, wiping a stray droplet of red juice from the corner of his mouth. “Not that I’m complaining—get me fruit anytime, man, seriously. But this is a lot fancier than just handing me a basket to snack on.”

“Yeah. Well...” Zed cleared his throat. His face heated and he prayed that Flick couldn’t see the blush in the low lighting. He busied his hands with his champagne flute and the berries on his plate to avoid making them free for Flick’s touch.

Over the past four months, since Flick had acquired a fancy new arm from the galaxy’s fourth species—crystalline giants known as the resonance—they’d gotten used to communicating wordlessly. Zed bore a piece of the telepathic aliens too, a shard in his neck inserted by the mysterious and unknowable Guardians. It allowed him and Flick to share emotions, thoughts and, if they concentrated, simple phrases. He loved that connection. Reveled in it. But right now, he didn’t want to communicate what he was thinking and feeling without words.

He needed to say stuff vocally. They could touch later, confirm the words with thoughts and emotions to solidify it all.

Flick munched on another berry, then gestured with the half-eaten remainder when Zed didn’t continue. “If you’re trying to let me down easy, it’s way too late.”

Zed shook his head. Not that, no, God no.

Slurping up the rest of the berry, Flick leaned forward again, his crystalline hand reaching across the table. The gleaming skin caught the low light of the candles and refracted it, throwing muted patterns on the wall. “Talk to me, Zed.”

Right. Now or never. Suck it up, Anatolius. “I—”

The chime of Flick’s bracelet interrupted him. Flick glanced down at it, frowning, then brushed a finger over the holo interface. “It’s Marnie.”

A familiar visage popped into view—Marnie Scott, one of their oldest friends from the Academy and a former military intelligence operative who’d retired to become the Chaos’s go-to intelligence-gathering guru. She and her husband, Ryan, lived on an asteroid named Morrison, the Chaos’s unofficial home base.

“Hey, Marnie.”

Marnie’s face creased into a smile. “I can barely see you, it’s so dark. Did I interrupt sexytimes or something?”

“Do you really think I’d answer your call if I was sexing up my man?”

She winced. “Flick, honestly, scratch ‘sexing up’ from your vocabulary. Please.”

Zed cleared his throat. “Actually, Marnie, we were kinda...uh...” Kinda what? Marnie didn’t usually call unless there was a reason. Even if she disconnected now so he could finish what he’d been planning, he’d be thinking about why she’d interrupted them. “Never mind. Go ahead.”

“Are you guys researching a job?”

“No. Zed’s feeding me strawberries. Why?”

“So...” Marnie’s brows dipped low over her almond-shaped eyes. “Have you got an automated process running?”

Flick glanced at Zed over the holo. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“You’re not pulling data off the asteroid’s servers right now. You’re sure?” Marnie’s expression grew slack with something like shock. “Shit, Ryan! I think we’re being hacked, baby.”

Zed’s blood turned to ice. “Hacked?”

Out of the range of the holo’s feed, he could hear Ryan cursing.

“What are they accessing, Marnie?” Flick demanded. “Marnie!”

Her eyes focused on something offscreen, Marnie shook her head. “Shit. Shit! We need to cut all connection to the Chaos. I’ll be in touch.”

“Marn—” The holo winked out of existence.

“They thought we were accessing data.” Zed met Flick’s wide eyes.

Flick opened another holo interface. “Nobody on board but us. Ship’s clear.”

“There’s an external access port, though, isn’t there?” Something for engineers to plug into during maintenance. “Could someone—”

“Fuck!”

Flick charged out of the room, leaving Zed to scramble after him.

* * *

The external access port was located outside the auxiliary hatch in Cargo Two. Beneath the competing glare of three holoscreens, Felix managed to climb the narrow stairs from engineering to the main level of the Chaos without falling. Having two functioning hands helped. He skidded through the mess, into the aft corridor, through Cargo Two and stopped in front of the small airlock. As they were docked, the inner door was open. The external door remained sealed.

Zed pulled up so close behind, his breath tickled the back of Felix’s neck. “Let me go first,” he said, stunner raised and ready. He’d stopped at the arms locker on the way, obviously. He must have Zoned to catch up so fast. Zed angled around Felix’s shoulder as if preparing to barrel through the sealed door.

“Panel isn’t responding.” Felix keyed in his access code again, but the panel next to the external hatch remained inert. A single light indicated power, but it was otherwise dead. A coincidental fault, or had someone uploaded a remote lock? “Shit.” Felix canceled two of his displays and opened another.

“What’s wrong with the door?”

“Hold on, trying the captain’s security key.” Technically, Elias was captain, but all five crew aboard the Chaos had access to the codes for the entire ship. The key failed to activate the door. As Felix pulled up his list of hacking routines, the panel light blinked off. A power fluctuation? The lights in the cargo hold flickered, brightened and died. Then they switched on again. Off. The all but imperceptible hum of a ship at dock hiccupped next. Felix felt the variation through his boot soles. He put a hand to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Zed asked.

“Listening to the ship.” Felix glanced over at Zed. “Can you feel the power fluctuating?”

“No, but the blinking lights clued me in.”

Felix opened a diagnostic and cursed softly. No way those readings were right. Whoever was hacking their ship was fucking with him, which meant—

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Whoever locked this door knows I’m trying to open it. The power fluctuations? They’re laughing at me. We need to get outside now.”

Zed was halfway across the small cargo bay before Felix finished speaking. Following, Felix tapped his bracelet to open a channel and selected the icon for Elias’s wallet. After two pings, he urged him to pick up. “C’mon, Elias. Fuck!”

A holo bearing Elias’s amiable face popped into being, flashing off walls as Felix ran back through the ship to Cargo One. “Hey! I don’t even have to ask if you said yes, right? Should we stay out another hour or so while you two—”

“How close are you to the docks?”

Elias lost his smile. “Maybe two levels down and half a klick away. Why?”

Felix swallowed a growl. “I think someone is plugged in to the external access port, and they’re fucking with the whole ship. Aux hatch in Cargo Two is locked. Trying to unlock it set off a chain of power fluctuations.” The lights dimmed and Felix tripped over the door frame into Cargo One. He flew two meters before connecting with the floor and sliding into the back of Zed’s legs. Zed reached down to haul him to his feet.

“Fix?”

Ignoring the flare of pain from his knees to his shoulders, Felix said, “Can you get in touch with Qek and Nessa and make sure they’re all right?”

Even as a holographic representation, Elias’s expression was easy to read. The lines of his face hardened and a scowl overtook his mouth. “Ness is with me. I’ll call Qek now. Check back in as soon as you have more news.”

The connection closed and Felix pulled up another display when it became clear Zed’s code and the captain’s key had failed to open the main hatch. Power throughout the ship continued to fluctuate, lights flickering and door panels flashing. Air circulation coughed and wheezed. Frustration snapped through Felix’s veins with a near audible crackle. “Can you...?” Felix gestured toward the blank expanse of plasmix.

“What? See through walls?”

“No, try your cuff. You’ve unlocked doors with it before, haven’t you?”

Zed ran a finger along the Guardian cuff circling his right wrist. Outwardly, it was the only symbol of his connection with the peacekeepers of the galaxy. Most people mistook it for a comm bracelet or jewelry. Brow furrowing, Zed concentrated on the door for a second or two, then shook his head. “Can’t do it with the power fluctuating like this.”

“Double shit.” Felix slapped his palm against the blinking panel. Then he glanced at Zed, another idea taking shape. “Could you phase-shift through it?” Through half a meter of interleaved alloys, cabling, insulation and ceramix. The door was nearly as thick as the outer hull.

Zed eyed it uncertainly. “Ah, I can try.”

Zed had been part of an experimental project with the AEF. He could move very fast and shift out of phase. Felix had seen him pass through people as though they weren’t there. But never a wall or door. Nothing not made of flesh. He shimmered for a fraction of a second, then disappeared. A fleeting shadow, something like an afterimage, ghosted toward the sealed hatch. One blink and it was gone. Felix’s bracelet chimed.

Another holo unfolded, showing Zed with that damned crease between his brows. “Made it.” Wincing, Zed rubbed at his temple. The holo skewed, making it look as if he’d swayed to the side.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a bit out of it. I’ll be fine. Where’s the external port?”

“Past the aux hatch. Duck under the portside exhaust housing. You’ll see the indented square of the panel cover.”

The holo shifted and bobbed, showing Zed’s progress along the side of the ship. A moment later, Zed huffed over the connection. “No one here, but our perp left in a hurry. There’s some doodad hanging from the inside. And a bunch of wires.”

Felix shunted aside thoughts of his ship being disemboweled through an external access port. Wasn’t possible. But someone with the right tools could do a lot of damage—after fucking up the internal systems. As proven. That someone would have had to hack the port open first. Getting into the ship’s systems after that would have been the easy part.

“Going to case the docks,” Zed reported.

“I’m going to try and open the fucking door.” After he stabilized the power systems.

“I’ll leave this channel open.”

The holo shut off, but the sound of Zed running and the background noise of the docks echoed quietly in the empty cargo bay. Felix called up another display and searched back through the diagnostic results looking for the blinking smiley face that had mocked him in Cargo Two. Fucker. He dove beneath the idiotic readings, seeking out actual diagnostic data. Sifting through status reports left his mind free to wander along different paths, such as what other ship’s systems had been accessed and compromised, and what Elias had meant by saying yes. Yes to what?

Focus on the Chaos.

Before they left port, he and Qek would have to crawl through every inch of programming. Finding a course-correcting bug after they’d flown into a star would suck. Especially now, after he and Zed had finally had a chance to settle in together. Get cozy. Stop feeling as if the future might be limited by the next call, or the next war.

He found the connection between the dummy report and the genuine readings and snipped it. The lights blinked once more and stabilized, the air vents stopped stuttering and a quiet and contented hum slid through the skin of the ship. The false readings had been layered with instructions. Clever. Or not. Okay, it was fucking brilliant and he’d have to try it out sometime—when he wasn’t so pissed off, and on a ship other than his own.

Felix contemplated the panel next to the main cargo door. It was still locked. Briefly, he entertained the idea of taking a fire ax to it—and only resisted because there was no way he could chop through the same wall Zed had effortlessly bypassed without making enough mess to strand them on Chloris for days.

Time to start hacking with code instead of sharp tools.

He tried pinging Marnie and Ryan, but they didn’t answer. Putting out their own fires, no doubt. Time stuttered and blurred as he attacked the door panel with different programs. Distantly, he tracked Zed’s progress through the docks. He ignored a call from the Chaos’s chief—and only—medical officer, Nessa, forwarding it to Zed’s wallet instead. He accepted a call from their ashushk pilot, Qekelough.

“Elias and Zander are tracking a suspect toward the market from opposite directions,” Qek reported. “Nessa is on her way back to the Chaos.”

“I can’t crack the code the fucker used to lock the ship.”

“Did you try the Alerion sequence Mrs. Scott forwarded last week?” Qek meant Marnie. Ashushk tended to start with the most formal form of address and work their way down to nicknames over a period of time only they could measure. Zed had graduated from Mr. Anatolius to Zander in a matter of weeks. Dying on Qek’s home planet might have had something to do with that.

“Where did you store it? I’m afraid to even access the ship’s systems. Bastard cooked up a dummy diagnostic report that was actually feeding instructions to the lights and air circulation systems.”

“I would be most interested in studying the code for such a hack.”

“After we make sure the ship is ours we’ll check it out. For now, I just need to get the doors open.”

“I have a local copy on my wallet. I will send it to you now.”

“Thanks, Qek.” Felix’s bracelet chimed with an incoming data packet. “Where are you, anyway?”

“I am still at Belan Laboratories. Zander gave me the Anatolius access codes.” Being related to the station’s owner had distinct advantages. “I used them to access the security footage from the docks. That is how I tracked the suspect to the market. I am having difficulty maintaining visual contact in the crowd, however.”

“Triple fucking shit,” Felix muttered. He needed to be out there, helping track down the asswipe who’d hacked his ship. Not trapped inside the cargo hold trying every hack known to man and ashushk.

The fingertips of his crystalline hand tingled and he spared a glance in their direction. With little more than a thought, he could shape his fingers into various tools, just as the resonance could, making his arm a gift beyond measure. He’d imagined digging them into the guts of the access panel—right before mentally bashing the door down with an ax. Extending one finger, he poked the outside of the panel and thought at it. Could he exploit the weird biotech further by thinking his way into a ship’s system?

Judging by the cool spot at the tip of his finger and the absolute lack of anything traveling down his arm, the answer was no.

Qek’s new routine unpacked and Felix immediately put it to work scanning the lock. Hope flared when the program leaped off in a new direction, his fingers following along on the holographic interface. A map of circuits appeared in the air, a glowing path weaving up and down and through the middle. Several intersections flared brightly, indicating broken connections. Breathlessly, Felix watched the Alerion sequence unlock the panel, one digit of the access code at a time. Then the panel hummed and clicked, and the hatch began the journey upward.

Felix didn’t wait for the door to fully open or the ramp to extend. Crouching, he jumped from the ship and ran through the docks, using his bracelet to key the hatch closed behind him.

If someone managed to jump inside before the hatch resealed—good luck to them. They could go ahead and try to steal his ship. More likely, they’d stumble across the same fucking roadblocks he had just trying to get out. Or, they’d discover that little course-correction routine just before they jumped through a black hole.

Chapter Two

Zed caught a glimpse of someone matching Qek’s description of the hacker—a flash of red hair on a shorter-than-average figure wearing a green backpack—and that was it. Man, woman, he didn’t know. At this point, he couldn’t even say it wasn’t an ashushk wearing a wig. Tracking the hacker through the crowd on the concourse outside the docks was achieved by following his or her wake. Zoning to access the greater speed of his experimental training wouldn’t help in these crowds, and phase-shifting to pass through people was out. Transitioning through the Chaos’s thick cargo door had left him feeling more unsettled than he’d like. A familiar ache had settled in between his temples, his eyes didn’t really want to focus and his muscles felt a bit rubbery—good signs that he’d pushed himself too hard to phase-shift through that door.

When the corridor from the docks dumped traffic into the market, Zed faltered. People flowed everywhere—a glut of humanity, with a few friendly ashushk thrown in for variety. No matter where Zed looked, he couldn’t pick up a disruption in the eddies of the crowd’s current. No clue as to where the hacker went.

His wallet pinged. He pulled it out, his tone short as he answered. “Yeah?”

“Have you reached the market, Zander?”

Qek’s precise, even tones mollified his temper somewhat. He’d checked in with her earlier to relay his intended destination, so it was natural for her to follow up. “I’m here. I think I lost them, though.”

“Elias is approaching from the opposite direction.”

And it would be just their luck if the hacker ducked sideways without them seeing—wait. Fuck, yes. Zed jolted forward. “Got him! He’s heading toward the promenade.” The main one that had vegetation hanging everywhere—it was a pretty iconic destination on Chloris, a unique characteristic that separated it from all the other stations belonging to Anatolius Industries. “Hasn’t seen me.”

“I will inform Elias and Anatolius Security. Good luck.”

Tucking his wallet away, Zed focused on shortening the distance between himself and the hacker. The crowd inhibited pursuit again—but luckily this time, it did the same for the hacker. By the time the guy reached a side corridor, Zed was only a few meters behind. The service alley wasn’t as wide as the main concourse and didn’t have nearly as much vegetation dangling overhead. It also wasn’t as crowded. Zed tried to keep a few people between him and the hacker as he debated his course of action. Charge ahead again and risk the hacker bolting? His slighter frame was a definite advantage over Zed’s bulk. Or hold back and work at getting closer, all subtle-like?

Movement close to his side distracted him for a second, but it was just Elias, jogging up and breathing heavily. “We got him?”

Zed smiled. Well, the odds had just increased in their favor. He nodded to one side of the corridor. “Work your way over on that side. I’ll stick over here.”

“Pincer?”

“Pincer.”

They wove through the diminished crowd, getting into position. Zed was about to signal Elias to close in when the hacker looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened and he darted sideways.

Zed didn’t waste any time on swearing—he just leaped into pursuit. The hacker had found a narrow access tunnel intended for maintenance bots and technicians. Slipping into the Zone despite the headache that warned him it was a bad idea, Zed found an additional burst of speed. He reached out, his fingers millimeters from the hacker’s pack—

And grabbed nothing. Only an afterimage existed—an afterimage that tossed a smile over his shoulder and melted away from his grasp.

Zed skidded to a stop, his brain refusing to acknowledge what he’d just seen and felt.

Elias caught up to him. “What the hell happened?”

“He shifted...” Zed waved a hand at the empty corridor.

“He what?”

Zed shook his head, fighting the words. They couldn’t be true. There was just no way...

Elias looked at Zed, then at the dark hall—then back to Zed, the realization dawning on his face. “Are you telling me he phase-shifted?”

Impossible. But...”I don’t know.”

“Zed—”

“I don’t know!” His fingers carded through his hair, yanking at the roots, a bad habit he’d picked up from Flick. He squinted as the shout made the pain in his head spike.

“Was he one of your teammates?”

“No.”

“Did you recognize—”

“No!”

Elias raised his hands. “Man, I’m just trying to get a handle on this. We’ve been operating on the belief that you were it. The last of your kind.”

Ire fading as quickly as his temper had flared, Zed’s shoulders sagged. “Maybe he was a holo.” But the suggestion sounded weak, even to his ears. He’d felt the rough material of his pack.

Zed closed his eyes. Fuck. “He phase-shifted.”

“Yeah. Looks like.” Elias rested his hand on Zed’s shoulder, a rare comradely touch.

“Whoever he was, a hell of a lot of planning went into this.” And the fact that they’d carried it out on a station the Chaos hadn’t even been scheduled to visit until the day before—that meant they’d been shadowed, their communications monitored.

Fuck, that was almost as scary as the fact that the hacker had phase-shifted.

* * *

Felix met Nessa exiting a lift tube from the maintenance level.

“Where are Elias and Zed?” he asked.

A scowl pulled at the delicate lines of her face. “On their way back from the main market.”

“They lost him?” Qek had relayed a short holo capture from one of the security cameras. Maybe when Marnie and Ryan were back online, they could clean it up and pin an identity to their hacker.

“Apparently he shifted.”

“He what?”

“Phase-shifted. Zed had a hold of his pack and he dematerialized right the fuck out of there.” Ness rarely swore.

Goose bumps prickled the back of Felix’s neck and shoulders. “Qek wasn’t able to follow on from...” From where he’d disappeared?

“He slipped into a camera dead zone behind the promenade. From there, he could have gone anywhere.”

His bracelet chimed once. Felix thumbed open the channel. “Yeah?”

Zed’s voice crackled through. “We lost our perp in the market—”

“Because he phase-shifted?” Felix exchanged a look with Nessa. Surely she’d meant something else?

Zed was the last living member of Project Dreamweaver. He should be the only human being in the galaxy who could mimic the stin ability to shift out of phase. The stin poison running through his veins had killed the rest of his team. Zed had only survived through the intervention of the Guardians.

“Can we talk about it when we get back to the ship?”

“Sure. Sooner I get back and start purging systems, the better.”

Felix closed the connection and ran his fingers down the smooth skin of his crystalline wrist and over the back of his perfectly formed hand. It freaked him out to have Zed in his thoughts, to be in Zed’s. But in only four months, he’d come to rely on it. Nothing soothed his anxious ripples as well as Zed’s deep pool of love and commitment. Not for the first time, he wished their connection extended beyond touch.

Nessa touched his wrist. “I’m sorry Zed’s whole scene got interrupted.”

Felix shrugged. “It’s not as if he needs to buy me strawberries to get me into bed. I’m a sure thing.” A creepy creep at the back of his skull suggested Zed had been trying to do more than simply seduce him.

Nessa opened her mouth.

“You know what this means, right?” Felix said. “Someone other than Zed phase-shifting?”

Closing her mouth, Nessa nodded. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

* * *

The crew of the Chaos normally gathered in the mess for team meetings. Felix didn’t want to be parted from the main computer, however, so they were all squashed into the corvette’s small bridge. Qek sat in the pilot’s seat, Felix in the copilot’s. Nessa and Elias took the jump seats set just behind and Zed crowded the doorway. The air cycler struggled to keep up with five rounds of agitated breath.

Qek’s blue fingers skipped across three different holos. Felix had another three open. The main console display shimmered beneath, and Nessa, Elias and Zed all had their wallets out and activated.

“Navigational system cleared.” Qek didn’t look up from her displays. Instead, she closed two and opened another.

“Great chunks of data were copied from medical,” Nessa said.

Elias looked up from his wallet. “Logs are secure, as far as I can tell, and all our financials are held off-ship.”

“They weren’t after credits,” Zed said.

Felix finished recompiling the program responsible for basic ship functions. “Life support and the gravity generators are secure.” He glanced over at Zed. “What do you think they were after?” He hadn’t assumed it would be credits either. There were much easier ways to steal currency than hacking a third-class corvette.

Zed gripped the back of his neck. A crease teased the middle of his brows. Felix had an uneasy relationship with that little wrinkle. In the past, it indicated headaches—symptoms of Zed’s rapid decline. Now, the crease signaled stress, which didn’t make Felix any happier.

“Obviously they wanted access to Morrison. Hacking through our communications protocols would have had to have been a priority.”

“I concur,” Qek said. “I have been able to reconstruct part of the attack. Our communications system was compromised first. When Mrs. Scott cut off access, a secondary program initialized.”

“The door locks,” Felix guessed.

“Yes. The hacker then targeted very specific systems within the Chaos. Most notably, medical files.”

“What did they get?” Elias asked.

“Zed’s brain scans,” Nessa said.

No surprise there. The hacker shifting out of Zed’s grip no longer felt like a coincidence—not that it ever really had.

The comm panel chirped. A new holo opened up over the main display, eclipsing several others, and Marnie and Ryan joined the meeting on the bridge. “We’re back,” Marnie said.

“So I see.” Elias offered a mock salute. “Status report?”

Ryan looked up from his console. “That was not fun.”

Marnie shot her husband a concerned glance before turning back to face the bridge. “All systems secure. We had to purge some data, but I have backups of my backups. What about the Chaos?”

“We’re mostly back together,” Felix said. “I’d be more comfortable if we dumped everything and installed fresh copies from the backup of your backup, though. Are you sure this connection is tight?”

Marnie huffed. “It’s tight.” She tapped something just offscreen. “I have a list of files they managed to copy. Comm logs for the last six months, some of Dieter’s journal entries, about half of Qek’s porn collection and...” Marnie licked her lips. “Everything we had on Project Dreamweaver.”

Chapter Three

There was a data trail. Apparently whoever had hacked them hadn’t wanted to run the risk of being caught holding the goods. They’d uploaded the data to the underside of the Net disguised as a credit transfer. Ryan had discovered the transaction when checking his and Marnie’s accounts.

Tracing the packets of hacked data wasn’t a task Zed would have wished on his worst enemies, let alone his closest friends. For sixteen hours, Flick, Ryan and Marnie huddled at the table in the mess—or, rather, Flick did, while Marnie and Ryan hunched over their computer stations on the asteroid. For sixteen hours, Zed listened to Flick mutter and curse, then shout in triumph—only to have his enthusiasm dim as once again, the data hitched a ride to somewhere else. Eventually they tracked part of the data to Alpha Station—something Marnie and Ryan assured him was a logical step. A good hacker could hide anything in the sheer volume of data going in and out of humanity’s main space station.

A quick call to his genius brother, Maddox, and the Chaos was all set for a visit to Alpha to continue hunting.

Meanwhile, throughout all of the arrangements, Zed spent some quality time with his thoughts. Okay, he brooded. But he was entitled. He’d just seen a human who hadn’t been through the Project Dreamweaver training phase-shift in front of him. That wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible.

The implications of it...

He had so many questions and no matter how many times he chased them around his brain, he couldn’t come up with answers. Was it his fault, somehow? The Guardians hadn’t wanted him to be a secret, but maybe he could have been more discreet, more careful about the information being shared about him and his abilities. Maybe he should have sought out the media, held a few more interviews, turned the information the way he wanted it turned...

Might as well wish for wings while he was at it.

A couple of media crews awaited them when they pulled into dock at Alpha Station—nothing like the mob that had greeted the Chaos nearly a year earlier, after news of Zed’s death and imminent reappearance had spread. Brennan, Zed’s oldest brother and the CEO of Anatolius Industries, also stood on the dock, a broad smile stretching his lips.

Zed marched down the gangway and embraced his brother. In the background, he caught murmurs and the sound of pictures being captured, but he didn’t care. He’d denied himself contact with his family for years during the war—particularly after the experimental training that had changed him so utterly. He wouldn’t let the presence of a few desperate members of the media steal the pleasure from a simple hug.

“Good to see you, Bren,” he said into his brother’s neck.

“Same.” Brennan pulled back with a final slap on Zed’s shoulder. He looked behind him, smiling. “Hey, Flick.”

“Bren.” Flick held out his right hand for a shake. Brennan grabbed it and pulled him into a quick hug—and Flick hardly stiffened at all. A little thing, but it made Zed proud at how far his prickly lover had come in less than a year.

Brennan greeted Elias, Ness and Qek with the same wide smile, then started for the Anatolius Industries office tower. “Mad’s been working at the puzzle you gave him ever since you talked,” he said as they made their way along the crowded concourse. “I think he’s gone home once, to sleep for a couple of hours. Hazel’s not too happy with you.”

Zed winced. He hadn’t intended to steal his brother away from his wife and their newly adopted twins. “I thought he’d assign someone.”

“You know Mad and puzzles. He can’t leave it alone.”

“Don’t let Hazel kill me.”

Brennan chuckled. “Mom’s helping out. It’s all good for now.” The as long as this doesn’t last too much longer didn’t need to be said out loud. “I’m assuming you’ll want to go see him?”

Flick nodded. “I hope Maddox bathed recently.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Brennan said with a grimace.

* * *

“Do you think Marnie and Ryan are safe on Morrison?” When no one answered him, Felix glanced up.

Maddox appeared not to have heard him. He was absorbed by the display in front of him, the map of data, the puzzle. Zed, Elias and Ness were all elsewhere, keeping appointments made with various financial institutions to secure key codes to banking data and other records that might be vulnerable.

Qek had heard him and she met Felix’s gaze with her wide, unblinking eyes. “The location of our asteroid is known only to our crew.”

The remote location wasn’t a formal secret, but none of the crew had felt inclined to share it, either. The Chaos was their home, but Morrison was their base of operations. The internal dock was well equipped for most repair and upgrade operations, and the ample warehousing space—including cold storage—allowed them to stockpile certain commodities, thereby averaging the cost of every run rather than having to always outbid their competition.

The asteroid was home to Marnie and Ryan.

Maddox cleared his throat. “Elias shared the coordinates with Bren and me, back when the AEF had Zed.”

Made sense. “Is that info available to anyone?”

“It wasn’t, but anyone who really wanted to know the location could trace it through this data trail.”

“It took us nearly twenty hours to trace it here.”

“That’s less than a day, and like I said, anyone who really wanted to know...” Maddox didn’t need to finish the sentence.

Qek clicked. “Should we alert Marnie and Ryan to this possibility?”

Felix dipped his chin in a nod. “Yeah, we should. I mean, they’ve probably already figured out as much, but extra warnings are never wasted.”

“Indeed not.”

Felix slumped back in his seat. Like everything Anatolius, the chair was...plush. It had the appearance of serious business, with the ergonomic design and optional mobility settings, but was as comfortable as it was functional. Blowing out a sigh, he resisted the temptation to let his fingers and thoughts roam. As always, the seams of his pants were one tug away from parting—loose threads bristling like cilia, from thigh to ankle. His curls had been tugged into chaos. His shirt felt stiff, as if the smart fiber had given up trying to clean up his messes and had simply hardened against further assault.

Damn it, Project Dreamweaver should be a phantom of the past. A nightmare best forgotten, even if Zed still needed extra time with their therapist to get over it.

Qek settled a blue hand on his crystalline arm. “We are in the business of solving problems, Fixer.”

With a sideline in brooding about them.

“Get Marnie on comms. It’s about time to check in, anyway. Maddox, got anything for us other than the fact every hacker with a single iota of patience now knows where we keep our goodies?”

Maddox’s grimace warned he had more bad news to deliver. “I’ve found two divergent data trails emerging from the landing here.”

“Two?”

“One could be a false trail.”

“Meaning they know we’ve followed the data this far?”

“Or they’re just hedging bets. You guys have backups of your backups. Everyone does. This—” Maddox tapped a holo “—could just be that.”

“Which makes it important. People don’t store their backups just anywhere.” Felix leaned toward Maddox’s display. “Where are we talking?”

“One trail is heading toward Bosun.”

Felix swallowed a gasp. “That’s—”

“Where your asteroid is parked. I know.”

“Sending the data back to its point of origin makes no sense,” Qek said.

Felix flailed in Qek’s direction. “Did you ping Marnie yet?”

Qek tapped the console in front of her, and a display unfolded to show Marnie and Ryan looking as if they hadn’t left the room housing their precious super main since the original hack.

“Hey.” Marnie offered a vague wave. Ryan didn’t shift his attention from the console always hidden just out of view. “Judging by the expression on your faces, this isn’t a social call.”

Felix responded with something between a snort and a snicker. “Not really. Listen, Maddox thinks he’s traced one of the threads back in your direction.”

Marnie’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

No, it was really a double shit.

“Paint a map for us?” Marnie asked, glancing in Maddox’s direction.

A few keystrokes later, Maddox murmured, “Done.”

Ryan glanced up. “Okay, this one heading toward us has been at Petrel Station for several hours. Either they’re taking a break or that’s the end of the line.”

Petrel Station was only a short jump from the system housing the broken moon of Bosun and their asteroid. “That’s too close. I don’t like it.”

“The other trail is even weirder, though,” Ryan said. “It goes nowhere.”

“How can a path not go anywhere?” Qek asked.

“Well, it goes somewhere, but to what we humans fondly term ‘the middle of nowhere.’” Maddox swiped a finger over the corner of one of his displays, lifting the hologram until it balanced vertically. It was a star map—one Felix didn’t recognize.

“Where is that?” he asked.

Maddox rattled off a series of coordinates before passing on a broader sense of location. “83 Leonis.”

A collective inhale was amplified by the jazer connection.

“That’s toward resonance space,” Marnie said.

“Specific data on Project Dreamweaver would have no relevance to the resonance,” Qek said. “Speaking as an ashushk, it would make fascinating reading. But given our physiological differences, the experiment cannot be reproduced.”

Nor should it be. Yet someone had done it. Felix didn’t believe the resonance responsible, though. The giant crystalline aliens had no need for super soldiers. They were a peaceful species, but had unwittingly demonstrated that they did not require conventional weapons—or soldiers—in order to devastate their enemies. A resonant signal from one unit—comprising four of the aliens—could knock out a probe. Add a second unit and they could take out the communications array aboard a starship and set off a cascade of system failures that could result in destruction.

“Triple shit,” he breathed. “There’s only one reason why someone would be way out there.”

Maddox grimaced again, the tired lines of his face deepening into an expression of fear and concern. “To make functional super soldiers, you need a shard.”

A crystal shard. A piece of the resonance.

“We need to warn them,” Felix said.

Maddox held up a hand. “You really think someone is going to infiltrate resonance space to steal a shard? There are plenty in human space. Every station has a communicator.” He tapped the display again. “I think it’s more likely this direction is a coincidence. It’s a barely mapped region of space. The perfect location for...ah, illicit doings.”

Illicit doings meaning a facility set up to produce super soldiers. Felix’s teeth clacked together as a shudder coursed through him. When would they officially be done with Project Dreamweaver? When could Zed safely retire from a life of cleaning up other people’s messes?

Wait, had that been what the strawberries and chocolate had been all about? Zed wanting to change direction? Right now, Felix would gladly give it all up. Just thinking about confronting all the realities of the data theft wore him out.

“I’m going to need a ship.”

Maddox’s tired eyes widened. “Huh?”

The door swished open, interrupting them. Felix glanced up, mouth automatically curving into a smile at the sight of Zed. He reached out in an unconscious gesture that would have seemed strange four months ago. Felix didn’t willingly touch anyone, not really. But since forging a mental connection with Zed, touching him to reestablish the link had become habit. It was like a greeting—a soft brush of lips or a quick shoulder bump. I’m here.

“Hey.” Zed touched his fingers quickly and looked at the holo map. “What have we got?”

Qek and Maddox quickly brought him up to speed, Marnie adding the occasional comment from the jazer conference. Elias and Nessa arrived before they were done, saving them from having to repeat themselves.

“So what do we do?” Zed asked.

Elias spread his hands. “We check out Petrel and the other place—Leonis? We’ve got a near enough where, now we need to figure out the who and why.”

“Should we inform any authorities about this theft?” Qek asked.

Zed’s lips twisted. “I’d like to see if we can contain the situation first. If we can track these hackers to their source, figure out what they’re doing, then we can decide if things are dire enough to warrant an ‘intergalactic incident’ stamp.” He turned to Maddox. “We’re going to need a ship.”

“So Flick said.”

Felix aimed a wink at Zed. Zed returned a half smile.

“Who’s going which direction?” Elias asked.

“Flick and I’ll head toward Leonis. In the unlikely event we run into any resonance, we can communicate with them. You good to head back to Petrel, Elias?”

“Absolutely,” Elias said. “Which one of us is taking the Chaos?”

Felix tapped his bracelet and a small holo flickered into being. “I love my ship, you know I do, but if Maddox can get us this one, I think Zed and I will be just fine.”

Maddox looked at the holo and choked.

Chapter Four

Zed was avoiding him. Not physically, though if he didn’t have to be in the same compartment, he generally wasn’t. More, he seemed to have withdrawn into himself. No one would ever describe Zed as chatty, but he usually had more...presence. More vitality. Felix had spent the bulk of the past four days learning how to fly the Apex Rapere—a name he’d complained about until he’d looked up the actual meaning: top raptor or bird of prey. Didn’t roll off the tongue like Chaos, but it’d do. Packed as the small ship was with every advancement in human star-drive technology, Felix should have been in his version of heaven. But a broody Zed wasn’t a fun Zed, and if there was a heaven, it should be fun.

“Are you actually going to talk to me at any point in this trip?” Felix glanced up from the pilot’s console.

Zed grunted and continued pretending to be engrossed in the star maps he was studying. “We’ve talked.”

“Not about anything important.” Like candles and strawberries. That little display had been important enough to plan a trip to Chloris Station for his favorite fruit. Zed was big on romantic gestures, but flying across the galaxy for fresh strawberries wasn’t dinner and a movie. Dismissing a display of holographic icons, Felix swiveled in his chair to face him. “What were we doing on Chloris?”

Zed was still staring at his damned maps, brow furrowed, fingers of his left hand tugging at his dark hair. Felix debated grabbing Zed’s hand and forcing a connection, then let the thought go. He didn’t want to put more distance between them.

Swallowing a frustrated growl, Felix turned back to his interface. “I hate it when you get like this.”

“What?”

“Caught up in your brain. Look, we’re going to be neck-deep in scanning and analysis shortly, and I’m not going to be able to focus if I think you’re—”

Zed blew out a breath. “I think we should get married.”

What? “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why do I want to marry you?”

“Yeah. No.” Felix felt his brow furrowing. Marriage had not been on his possible list of reasons why Zed might feel the need to romance him. “Yes. Why?”

“Because!”

“That’s not helpful.”

“I don’t understand the question. Isn’t it obvious why we should get married?”

“Not really.” Felix risked a look sideways. Zed was staring at him.

“Not...” Staring without blinking. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” It shouldn’t need saying, but Felix said it anyway. “We don’t need marriage for that.”

“Sure we do.”

“Why?” Hell, he’d thought Zed was going to ask him to go back to Alpha again. Work for Anatolius Industries. Do the family thing. And, in between worrying over the fate of the galaxy, Felix had half decided to think about it. Because he did love Zed and he wanted to make him happy. Keep him happy.

“Because I love you.”

“So you keep saying. Why the sudden need to get married?” Oh no...”Is this your dad’s suggestion? Your mom’s?”

“No.” Zed’s gaze slid sideways as he continued. “I did talk it over with them, though.”

“You—”

“They think it’s a good idea.”

“They do?”

“Brennan and Maddox do too.”

“You talked it over with your entire family?”

“Well...yeah.”

“Before or after we were on Alpha?” Elias’s voice floated out of memory: I don’t even have to ask if you said yes, right? Shit. So...everyone had known. Everyone but him. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.” Felix turned back to his console. “I’m going to look like a total asshole when I say no, and your family’s gonna hate me.”

“You’re...you’re saying no?”

“I’m not the kind of guy you marry, Zed.”

“You’re exactly the kind I want to marry!”

Felix stabbed the display, missed the report glyph and caught his finger on the console beneath. “We’re a few minutes from exiting j-space. You want to check out Leonis Bb or the moons first?” Bb was the only planet capable of supporting life, though the location and environment didn’t make it high on the list of colonial expansion efforts.

“Fuck the planet and its moons, Flick.”

“Bb it is, then.”

“Goddamn it, this is serious.”

“So serious you put off talking to me about it for four fucking days.” Felix turned narrowed eyes on Zed. “You knew how I’d react.” And that sorta hurt, because...fuck it. Why did Zed need this? Was it really just about the romance? Strawberries and chocolate?

Zed was staring at him again, steel-blue eyes muted by thought, confusion, pain. Sighing, he glanced away, then back again. “Look, when you were injured, did you know the doctors turned to Elias and Ness for permission to do the shit they needed to do? Not me. It was clear who I was—beyond my official role, I mean. Everyone knew that I was the guy who loved you. Your partner. But legally, I had no say.”

“So you want to get married so you’ll have a say?”

“No. Yes.” Zed’s hand rose up, as if he contemplated throttling him. “You drive me fucking crazy, Felix.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I want to marry you because I love you. Because I want to make sure you’re taken care of, in case anything—”

“Shut up.”

“Flick—”

No, no, no. Felix shook his head. “You already died once and it nearly killed me. You think if you leave me behind again, there will be anything left to take care of?” He’d refused Zed’s money once before and he would refuse it again. It’d never been about who Zed was on the outside, who he was related to. He loved Zed for the man inside. The gentle hero.

Zed clenched his fists. “I just want—”

It was time to redirect the conversation. “I’ll tell you what this is about. This is about your nightmares.”

Zed was a restless sleeper. Show him a former soldier who wasn’t. But Felix knew Zed had been dreaming a lot more since the incident with the resonance that cost Felix his arm.

“No.” Zed crossed his arms.

Felix sighed. “I’m fine, Zed.” The Apex Rapere jolted slightly, the shudder accompanied by the lurch in his gut that signaled they’d left j-space. “If this is just your over-thinky-analyzey brain trying to convince you that you’re responsible for this—” he held up his crystalline arm “—stop. You don’t need to fix it.”

Zed narrowed his eyes. “That’s not—”

“Can we get back to the mission, please?” With a quick motion, Felix sent a readout to the copilot’s console in front of Zed. “Scan. See if there’s anything here worth investigating. I’m going to send a message to the Chaos, let them know we got here okay.”

“We’re not done discussing this.”

“Fine.”

They monitored the readings in silence—uncomfortable silence—as they approached Leonis Bb. After nearly an hour, Felix sighed. “I’m not getting anything. I thought it was because of the distance, but all the readings are a jumbled mess.”

Zed poked around in the interface. “It’s the thermosphere. It’s heavily ionized. We need to get closer.”

“Yeah. Okay, sending a status update to Qek. If it’s this messy up here, our comms might get patchy from here on out. I’m extra glad we didn’t bring the Chaos now. She can’t handle any sort of atmosphere, but this baby can, can’t you?” Felix stroked the dashboard.

“I’m gonna tell the Chaos you’re cheating on her.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He tossed a grin at Zed, but it felt strained. They might not have returned to their argument, but the echo of it still lingered in the tight space of the bridge.

Felix guided the Apex Rapere through the mesosphere and into the stratosphere, listening with half an ear to Zed reporting the changes in the atmospheric conditions outside the ship. The readings indicated a lower atmosphere chock-full of obscuring particles and electrical activity. Hopefully once they’d dipped below that, they’d get a clear sense of what—

The little ship rocked sideways. Beside him, Zed lurched forward, his hand slicing through a holo. Straightening, Zed pushed out of the copilot’s chair. Something clicked behind him, Zed securing one of the jump seats, silencing a clatter that had been vaguely annoying.

Another shudder had Felix grabbing at the console. “The whole ship’s going to rattle like dice in a cup if this turbulence continues.”

“What’s causing it?”

“I don’t know. Troposphere is a mess. But we’re not that low yet.” The ship continued to rock, regardless of course. “Fasten your harness.”

Felix’s fingers became a blur as he attempted to compensate for the rough passage while trying to figure out what was causing the problem. An explosion of sparks flared in the periphery of his vision and he looked up in time to see Zed flying out of the copilot’s chair.

“Zed!”

Zed landed awkwardly and he lay there, gasping, as a cacophony of warning beeps shrilled through the cabin.

“Here, let me—” Felix pushed upward only to find himself restrained by the harness. The ship lurched as his hands left the controls. “Damn it! Why weren’t you strapped in?”

“I was working on it. Don’t worry, I’m good.” Zed sounded anything but good. Pain edged his quiet tone. Still, he managed to push up off the floor and scramble back to his seat.

Felix wished he didn’t have greater concerns. The power surge had knocked half the console offline, three displays hanging dark and ominous beneath the swirling meteorological patterns. Shit and all the shits, what had they flown into? More alarms chirped and the remaining displays flashed with warnings. And the main engine was offline. Atmo engines were offline. Inertial dampeners were nowhere to be found, and he couldn’t get a reliable read on life support. They had...Fuck, all they had were thrusters.

“Fasten your harness,” Felix ordered. “We’re going down.”

* * *

Zed gritted his teeth as Flick’s fingers flew over the holographic console. He was pretty sure he’d broken his wrist—or maybe it was a sprain. Either way, it hurt like hell and he didn’t have time for it. He hauled himself back into the copilot’s seat and strapped in as best he could with one arm.

Flick kept his eyes on the instruments. “Toggle the starboard thruster in half second bursts every thirty seconds.”

“You want to use thrusters in an atmosphere?” Zed scanned his console, located the control and activated the correct array. A ball of fire did not envelop them.

“Short and sweet,” Felix muttered. “No more than half a second and we should be fine.”

Thirty seconds passed and Zed activated the thruster again. Another thirty seconds, another burst. This time the small craft lifted slightly. Not level, as far as Zed could tell, but a better attitude than nose-first anyway. Storms broke around them, lightning arcing across the narrow forward window, thunder roaring over the sound of the straining engines. The hull of the Apex Rapere shuddered and groaned, and more sparks flew from the console.

Flick cursed. “Don’t activate the thrusters again. I don’t have time to check the readings of this storm. Gotta get power to the hydraulics...”

Right, because without flaps, they wouldn’t even make a controlled glide.

The roiling tempest swathing the planet continued to play havoc with every system. Zed gave up trying to understand the readings on the console in front of him. He was no pilot. His flight skills were limited to following the instructions of a simple emergency “press this button to keep flying” tutorial, which wouldn’t help them here.

The dense clouds thinned, but through the forward view screens Zed could still see nothing but a swirling mess of purple-gray.

“Thrusters,” Flick yelled.

Zed touched his console and the small craft tipped forward. The view changed from cloud cover to clear atmosphere and the curved horizon far below. Far enough below to allow Flick to gain control? A reading Zed did understand caught his attention and he brought up the details with an awkward swipe of his good hand.

“I’ve got a weird power signature from the planet surface,” he reported.

“Coordinates?”

Zed rattled them off, comparing them to their current position. Ahead and to the left. Zed could see nothing on the view screen. No lights, no regular lines indicating infrastructure or agriculture.

Flick frowned, clearly noting the same lack of...anything. “Are you sure it’s not just a system malfunction?”

“No.” But they hadn’t come all this way for a system malfunction. Something was down there.

“There shouldn’t be anyone out here. This system isn’t on the charter of any species,” Flick said.

“I know.”

“Okay, things are going to get a little warm in here. Rerouting power from all essential systems to hydraulics.” Flick glanced at Zed. “I can’t get the atmo engines back online without going down to engineering, so this is our best shot at getting down.”

Zed reached across his body with his good hand to grasp Flick’s human wrist. The flash of connection helped settle his stomach, which had decided to remind him that he really, really didn’t like heights and they were falling from a doozy of one. But he had as little time for that fear as he did for the pain in his left wrist. “Okay. Tell me what to do.”

The surface of the planet became more distinct with every passing second. It appeared relatively flat—but not featureless. A long jagged line bisected sweeping plains of what might be rock or sand. Craters pockmarked the plains, each a vague, half-moon shadow. No large mountain ranges, no jagged peaks reaching up to rip the undercarriage from their craft as they hurtled by, but their lack didn’t mean they wouldn’t land hard. Fundamental laws and all that. Even if Flick gained enough control to glide down, they’d be leaving bits and pieces of the Apex Rapere along their landing path.

“Read the sensor data to me,” Flick said. “We need a long, flat space for our crash.”

Oh God. “You mean our landing.”

“If you prefer.”

Zed flipped through a couple of sensor maps, though he didn’t know how well he could trust the data. Not like they had a choice. What was that? He checked the forward view screens. An almost perfectly round and dark shape loomed on the horizon. A lake or inland sea? “Okay, I think I’ve got a spot. Can you nudge us west?”

“How many degrees?”

Zed input the coordinates.

Flick looked up from the pilot’s console. “Water won’t cushion our landing.”

“You mean crash.”

“Ha. In all seriousness, though, it’s going to be just as hard as the ground, and even if I get the right trajectory—”

Zed stabbed the navigational holo. “There, right on the edge of the sea. Longest, flattest stretch of land I can see.”

Another alarm shrieked through the bridge. The craft juddered upward and listed to the left. No more time to correct their course—no more gliding, controlled or otherwise. Panic, held back by sheer will up to this point, started to pound in his chest.

“Shit, fuck, double shit,” Flick muttered.

Well, that wasn’t helping his blood pressure. “What?”

“Port thruster, half a second.”

Zed grappled with his display. The craft lifted slightly, but a short boom followed the maneuver. The console flashed and squawked, indicating fire in the lower hold and a power cascade knocking out systems along random paths. After that, the speed of notices and warnings flashing by surpassed his ability to keep up. Flick tried—damn, did he try, his fingers flying over the console. Zed had no idea what he was trying to do, but whatever it was, it took all his concentration. He reached for the Zone, if only to ensure his reflexes weren’t hindered by panic if Flick needed him to fire the thrusters again.

Then Flick input one final command and turned to him. “I can’t stop it. If we don’t break apart completely when we get down, the foam will keep us protected. Put on your mask.”

Zed mirrored Flick’s actions, reaching under his console with his good hand for his rebreather and fitting it over his nose and mouth. It would keep him supplied with oxygen until...He didn’t want to think about the until. The Zone kept the fear at bay—barely.

Flick held out his hand and Zed reached across his chest with his good one to grip Flick’s fingers. I love you. Flick’s words slipped across their connection, each one pronounced carefully and with emphasis. Zed held on to the thoughts, the words, and hoped Flick knew they were returned with just as much—

The bridge exploded in a cloud of white as foam poured into the space. Flick’s hand was jostled from Zed’s grasp. Zed felt himself get jerked away from the seat, and a new fear took root—was his harness too loose? He’d tried to tighten it but—

Impact.

Chapter Five

“That’s the ship we’ve been looking for?”

Elias could barely make out the vessel clamped behind the bulky docking tube, but he could tell that not all the shadows along the hull were thrown by the grimy plasmix window in front of him. The Blythe did not look particularly blithe. She was smaller than the Chaos, and twice as ugly, without the excuse of a retrofitted ashushk star drive. He did recognize the build, though. She’d be fast in-system, and if she’d gone all the way to Bosun, they’d have been hard-pressed to track her.

“The registration matches the one provided by Mrs. Scott. The Blythe is the only ship to have been docked at Chloris at the same time we were there.”

“According to the docking records, she’s carrying a crew of two and they don’t have a place in the jump queue,” Nessa said. Which meant they weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

“I wonder what they’re doing here.”

“At least they’re not knocking on Marnie and Ryan’s door.”

Qek clicked. “I assume any such knocking would be figurative.”

“One would hope so.” Elias turned away from the windows flanking the outer wall of the docking concourse on Petrel Station. “Okay, let’s find these bastards.” They could wait until someone returned to the ship and joined the jump queue, but the ship and data had been stationary for the thirty-six hours it had taken the Chaos to travel to Petrel. “Pity this isn’t an Anatolius outfit. Security codes would be nice right about now.”

“Or one of Fixer’s hacks,” Qek said, blue fingers twitching across the small holo projected over her wallet. “I have some tools recommended by Mrs. Scott, but I am still learning how to use them.”

Could they ask Marnie and Ryan to hack station security remotely, or would that leave them too vulnerable to a reciprocal trace?

“I will return to the Chaos and keep you updated from there,” Qek said.

“Keep the doors locked and the c-core spinning.”

“It is illegal for me to...” Qek’s wide blue face wrinkled into the ashushk equivalent of a smile. “I will endeavor to make the Chaos ready to depart at a moment’s notice.”

“Just don’t leave without us.”

Elias promised to check in every thirty minutes and led Nessa away from the docks and into the station proper. “Last time we were here, someone tried to kill us,” he muttered as he surveyed the main thoroughfare.

“Someone trying to kill us is practically a given in places like this,” Nessa said.

“Let’s make today an exception.” He pulled up a holo map. “Okay, if you had hacked our ship, why would you come to Petrel Station and sit here for nearly two days? Why not go directly to the source?” To Bosun.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Eli.” Nessa hugged herself briefly. She didn’t look worried, just uncomfortable. “You know, as many times as the trail zigzagged before this point, they could have just been bouncing the data across the galaxy.”

“The zigs and zags were all basically in this direction, though. I wish we knew what was in those data packets.”

“I’m assuming it’s our data.”

“Why bring it here?” Elias stopped walking. “Wait.” An invisible band tightened around his chest. “This is where we picked up Dieter.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And a good portion of the stolen data was his journal entries.”

“You think they’re looking for something he left behind? Why would he leave something on Petrel?”

Elias held up a hand and extended one finger. “Dieter was here for what, two months? And he was working the whole time he was here.” He extended a second finger. “Dieter worked covert ops before he was recruited to Project Dreamweaver.” A third finger joined the parade. “He was pretty messed up by the time we found him. Blanking and forgetting things. But he was like Marnie. Had backups of his backups.” A fourth finger uncurled, but Elias didn’t have a fourth point. “Where did Marnie take you when you were here last? Where did you find Dieter?”

Nessa started walking. “This way.”

Following, Elias opened a comms channel to the asteroid.

For a change, Ryan answered, his bald head reflecting the light of the holo display. “What’s up?”

“We need to know what was in those journal entries of Dieter’s the hackers stole.”

* * *

Fingers plucked at Zed’s hair. He ducked away, instinct insisting he did not want to be touched right now, even by Flick—then he moaned. Everything hurt. His wrist was the worst, but his head wasn’t too happy, either.

Could have been so much worse.

Flick pulled off Zed’s rebreather and tossed it aside. “You’ve got foam in your hair.”

“Fuck the foam,” Zed growled.

Flick shot him a dirty look. “I think that foam deserves some recognition. It saved our lives.”

Zed grunted and leaned back against the wrecked copilot’s chair. The bridge was a mess of disintegrating impact-foam—designed to soften and dissolve once the ship stopped moving—and twisted metal on the starboard side, toward the rear of the bridge. Clearly they’d spun and smacked into something hard. The acrid tang of smoke and burned-out circuits polluted the air. Low-level emergency lighting illuminated the bridge, enough to see the damage and not much else.

“So your wrist and your head? Did you lose consciousness at all?”

“Pretty sure.” He remembered Flick holding his hand...then nothing until Flick was pulling softening foam off his face. Might have been the pressure of reentry fucking with him, but Zed didn’t think so. “You okay?”

“Okay enough.” Flick probed Zed’s scalp gently. “Crashing is never fun. Oh, here we go.”

Zed bit back a hiss and fought the nausea that surged as Flick’s fingers found a knot hidden beneath his hair.

“Damn it,” Flick whispered, his voice filled with regret. “The foam should’ve prevented this.”

“I might not have been strapped in perfectly,” Zed admitted. “Because of the wrist.”

“Slacker.” Flick shot him a grin, one that didn’t quite meet his eyes, then moved off to find the bridge’s first aid kit. He moved a bit more stiffly than usual, but not too badly, considering. Zed let his eyes close for just a second.

“Hey, no sleeping.” Flick nudged his knee, setting down the first aid kit.

“I’m not.” He squinted at Flick, annoyed that even the dim emergency lighting seemed to be too much for his sensitive eyes. “I’m concussed, but not badly.”

He’d had a bad concussion once. It had been a solid couple of months before he’d been cleared for duty again. Weeks after that before he’d felt completely back to normal. This was annoying, nothing more.

Flick brought up a simple medical diagnostic on his bracelet. “Yep. Concussion and a broken wrist. But, lucky you, the bones seemed to be aligned pretty well. Lucky me too,” he muttered.

Right? Setting a lover’s broken bones wasn’t high on Zed’s to-do list, either.

At Flick’s gesture, Zed reluctantly held out his left hand. He watched as Flick splinted the joint and wrapped it up, thankful that the Apex Rapere had been stocked with an emergency med kit. But no Mendo—the substance that strengthened healing bones needed to be administered by a doctor. A shot of it in the wrong spot...wouldn’t be pretty. Flick’s fingers were gentle, touching his skin with the softest of caresses. He knew how much a broken bone—even a minor break—hurt. The fingers of his original left hand—the one replaced by his sparkling crystalline limb—had been mangled and all but useless after being broken in the stin POW camp and left to heal improperly.

“Hey, you still with me?”

Zed blinked. “Yeah.”

“Want to try a shot of something for your headache?” Flick rifled through the med kit, looking for a hypo.

For a second, Zed thought longingly of the stash of pills he’d once carried with him to battle the severe headaches induced by Zoning. The altered state of consciousness had once had a high price—no more, though, not since the Guardians had fixed his recipe. A cup of humanity, a dash of stin, with a teaspoon of ashushk and a sprinkle of resonance equaled one functional super soldier/emissary.

Okay, maybe his concussion was a little worse than he thought.

“What’s in there?”

They quickly determined that the only painkiller in the kit would be burned off by Zed’s metabolism before it could do anything. Still, if the headache got any worse, it might be worth trying. Not now, though.

He was about to ask Flick what the plan was when the ship rocked. Flick jolted up and slapped foam away from the pilot’s console, trying to get the interface to wake up and give a report. Zed staggered to his feet, cradling his broken wrist to his chest. His vision rocked out of time with the Apex Rapere, so he closed his eyes, hoping to stave off the need to vomit.

“Triple fucking shit.” Flick slammed a palm on the console. “We need to abandon ship.”

“What?” Every bit of training that had been drilled into Zed’s brain shouted No, bad idea. You stuck with your wreck when you went down so searchers could find you. It was fucking basic. But Flick had had the same training, knew the same shit, so if he was saying it...”Why?”

“Because I overshot your landing strip and we’re getting swept out by the tide.” Flick turned to Zed and scooped his good arm around his waist. “If the external sensors are still working, outside atmosphere looks breathable. Let’s get you out and onto shore, and if we don’t suffocate, I’ll see what I can recover before she’s gone.”

“So we crashed...and we’re gonna sink?” They bumped into a wall as the Apex Rapere shuddered again, turning Zed’s soft chuckles into a hiss. “Man, when you wreck a boat...”

“It’s not my fault!”

“Who was flying?”

“Asshole.”

“See, if we were married, this cost could come out of a joint—”

“Really?”

They lurched into a dim, twilit landscape. Zed had an impression of boulders, maybe trees—but damn, it was tough to concentrate when every step on the uneven rocky beach jarred his wrist and his head. Flick deposited him a few meters from the listing Apex Rapere and darted back to the ship without a word.

From the angle of the ship—which grew more acute as the minutes dragged on, the nose dipping downward—Zed could only surmise that the bottom of the lake or sea dropped off significantly a dozen meters or so from the shore. As the tide encroached, waves washing closer and closer to Zed’s perch, the Apex Rapere groaned, sliding farther into the water’s embrace. Just before Zed got really worried, Flick leaped out of the rear hatch, a pack dangling from one elbow, his arms full of equipment.

He marched past Zed to higher ground and deposited the gear. “Think you can make it up here?”

Yeah, the tide was getting closer and God knew how high the tides on this planet got—though thank God the gravity felt about the same as Earth Standard. Groaning, Zed pushed to his feet and made his way gingerly across the rocks to Flick’s haphazard camp. He’d chosen a plateau of sorts, a small one bordered by a pair of large boulders. It was difficult to tell in the waning light, but Zed couldn’t detect any tidal marks on the rocks. That was a good sign.

“What’d you rescue?”

“Some comms equipment. The first-aid kit. Some survival gear. I’m gonna go back and get—”

A loud creak followed by a huge splash and gurgle cut off Flick’s words. They watched the Apex Rapere give up her fight to stay above water and slip into the dark waves.

Zed stared, the ramifications of what had just happened sinking slowly into his concussed brain. “Well...shit.”

Chapter Six

Felix slapped his neck for the tenth time in a minute and felt something squash beneath his fingers. “Got you, motherfucker.”

But not before the dead bug had bitten him. The warming itch on the side of his neck was just one reason Felix hated planets. In less time than it took for another bug to find his neck, Felix counted several other annoyances: the water swallowing their ship, the smothering darkness, the whisper and hiss of whatever lurked under the cloak of night, and the absolute fucking lack of information about their environment. They could breathe, but the air smelled and tasted weird. Air shouldn’t have a flavor.

“Tides go back out, right?” When Zed didn’t answer right away, Felix nudged him with his boot. Zed jerked and smacked his lips. “No sleeping,” Felix grumbled.

“Wasn’t sleeping.”

“You need to tell me about tides. And fire. Then you can take a nap.” Felix aimed the meager light of a holo into the chittering darkness of night and wondered if he was brave enough to go looking for something to burn.

“Best thing we can do tonight is stay close and make a lot of noise,” Zed said. “We’ll scout the area when it’s light again. As for the tide, it depends on the moon.”

“This planet has three satellite bodies.”

“We know at least one of them is exerting a gravitational force.” Zed shifted in the near darkness. “Why do you want to know about the tides? Even if the tide goes back out, you don’t think you can repair the Apex Rapere, do you?”

Felix considered the muted glow of his crystalline fingertips. He could make small tools. Repair tools, not ship-salvaging tools. “I’m good, but not that good. No, I was thinking we need more gear. Some more protein bars, water pouches and maybe a hidden stash of Mendo.”

“Wrist doesn’t hurt much.”

Ignoring the lie, Felix chose a direction and peered into the darkness. “I wonder if that energy signature was a settlement. Maybe they saw us go down?”

“Not sure I want to run into the kind of people who choose to live in uncivilized space.”

Felix turned back to the vague shape of Zed and leaned in to bump their shoulders together. “I’m supposed to be the pessimistic one.”

“I was trying for humor.”

Wrapping an arm around Zed’s broad shoulders, Felix encouraged him to lean forward, into his lap. “Why don’t you try for that nap now? I’ll keep watch and see if I can do something with the comms equipment I saved.”

Zed nestled his head into Felix’s thigh with a deep sigh. “You know, the tide is a good thing.”

“Do I want you to explain that?”

“It’ll hide all traces of our crash.”

“Still trying to find the good in that.”

“Think about why we’re here, Flick. The data trail? This isn’t a chartered planet. There shouldn’t be anyone here, settlement or otherwise. But there is.”

A growl built inside Felix. A roar of inaudible but familiar sound. Anger and impotence. Deliberately, he put his bare hand to the side of Zed’s face, stroking his cheek. “Not going to let anything happen to you.”

Maybe it was time to quit all this running around, chasing jobs and credits. Had Zed been thinking along those lines when he proposed marriage? Was he as bone-achingly tired?

Zed’s warm hand covered his. “Ditto.”

Felix moved his fingers up to stroke Zed’s hair away from his face. “This hurt?”

“Feels good.”

He stroked Zed’s head—well away from the lump—until Zed fell asleep. Zed’s immediate and soft snores made him smile. Covert ops agents don’t snore, my ass. For a while, Felix concentrated on the whisper of connection between them. He never got much when Zed was sleeping, which was something of a relief as it meant Zed didn’t get much from him at night either. They both had their own share of unpleasant dreams. He liked the thrum of association, though, as if their souls came into alignment when they touched, resting easily together until they parted. Even with Zed asleep, Felix could feel the essence of him. His strength and goodness, his concerns, his sense of rightness.

With another pat, Felix withdrew his hand and aimed the feeble light of a single holo projection toward the jumble of comms equipment spread across the ground. Working with something pinning his right thigh to the ground proved frustrating, but he’d rather cut off his leg than disturb Zed. As the blood flow to his foot diminished, he sorted components into two piles: useful and maybe useful. Nothing in the galaxy was totally useless. But by the time Zed stirred—and thank fuck because Felix couldn’t feel his toes—he’d sketched a quick plan.

Zed sat up, rubbing the side of his head. He winced as his fingers encountered the lump.

“Feeling any better?” Felix asked.

“Not really.” Zed nodded toward the holographic drawing hovering over the other side of Felix’s lap. “What’s that?”

“A beacon. I figure it’s our best shot of getting a signal through this atmosphere. Not going to have enough power to send and receive, and I don’t have the right components anyway. Unless I sacrifice my bracelet.” Even then, signal strength would still be an issue. “We’re going to have to gain some elevation, though.”

Zed fingered the Guardian cuff around his right wrist.

“Can you use that to boost my signal?”

“I could try, but you know how imprecise anything I do with the cuff is. I could end up grabbing hold of all the comms equipment on the planet.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“If we don’t want them to find us, yeah.”

“We’ll save it as a last resort, then.”

* * *

The storefront looked promising—in a quiet, “we accept unhooked credits” kind of way. But the sign out front didn’t simply lack holographic flair. It was dead. And the concourse sweeper had left a dusty curve by the sealed front doors, one unscuffed by recent foot traffic. Elias scanned the shop with his wallet to see if anything inside had a heat signature. Nothing pinged, not even a rodent corpse swarming with maggots.

He let out a heavy sigh. “Another dead end.”

Nessa rubbed a circle in the middle of his back. “The Blythe is still in dock. They haven’t found what they’re looking for, either.”

“Maybe we should compare notes.”

“Ha!”

“We’ve met stupider criminals.”

Nessa’s brows drew together. “Yeah, but we still don’t know exactly who we’re dealing with.”

According to Marnie and Ryan, the Blythe was registered to Havoc Shipping, and available to anyone with enough credits to rent her. Cracking Havoc’s database had proved simple enough, but the identity of the last person to rent the Blythe was just thick enough to have a pilot’s license in the name of Sora Berwad. Licenses were easy to forge. They had yet to identify the man in the holo capture Qek had provided.

Elias pulled out his wallet. “This was the last stop on our list.” And not a promising one, at that. His wallet chimed and Elias opened a second display. “Hey, Marnie.”

“Find anything at the last stop?” she asked.

“Nope.” Elias turned a slow circle, showing her the derelict storefront. “We’re probably the only people to have visited Pieces and Parts in the last decade.”

“Pieces and Parts?” Marnie frowned offscreen. “Hon, are you sure about the coordinates for Arlo Beck’s lab?”

A moment later, Ryan appeared next to her. “Yep, last stop on the list from Dieter’s journal.”

“If Fixer were here, he’d be muttering about bastard coincidences or something,” Elias said.

“He wouldn’t be muttering, he’d be digging a hole through the floor,” Nessa said.

Gears slid together in Elias’s head. “Maybe that’s what we should be doing.”

“What?”

“Let’s check the back door.” There wasn’t a lot of traffic on this level, but if they loitered much longer, they’d look suspicious. “Marnie, send me one of your hacks. Something any idiot can use.”

“How about if you just show me the lock and let me do it remotely.”

From behind Marnie, Ryan said, “I don’t have a detailed blueprint for that section of the station, but there could be a subfloor.”

The access corridor behind the storefronts had an equally seedy atmosphere. Elias’s heart leaped when he saw the dusty footprints by the rear door of the shop.

“We’re not the first here,” he murmured.

“Okay, scan the lock for me,” Marnie said.

Nessa kept a lookout, her boots echoing softly as she paced back and forth. Four and a half minutes later, the nearly invisible lock clicked and Marnie grinned through the holo.

“Reckon Flick could have done it faster?” Ryan asked.

She turned to swat him.

Mouthing a quick thanks, Elias cut the connection, folded his wallet in half and slid it into a pocket. Then he nudged the door open and listened. He heard nothing but Nessa breathing behind him. Pushing the door wider, he stepped inside. The theme of abandonment continued inside the shop. Empty shelves, dangling light fixtures and debris collected in dark corners. Picked out by the light slashing through the open doorway, a trail of boot prints marched across the floor to an opening. One of the large tiles had been lifted away and set aside, exposing a dim square of light.

He glanced at Nessa. He couldn’t make out her expression, but she touched his arm, nodded and pulled her hand back to her belt to liberate a hypo from one of the loops. Elias hadn’t decided whether Nessa’s willingness to use a hypo against someone was awesome or disturbing. He blew her a silent kiss and, pulling a stunner from his belt, crept across the floor. As he drew closer to the opening, he heard the soft susurrus of voices from below. He stopped when they became clear.

“Can you see anything?” a woman murmured.

“Shut the fuck up, Sora.”

The admonishment was followed by a moment of silence, then Sora spoke again. “How much longer is this gonna take?” Her tone was odd—as if she were trying to sound more irritated than she was.

“It’ll take as long as it fucking takes. Sit down and stop asking stupid questions.”

The guy down there had to be the hacker, the one they’d chased on Chloris. That meant he’d...Elias blew out a quiet breath. That meant the guy in the hole was like Zed. Smaller—runtier—but able to Zone and phase-shift. Even if he lacked Zed’s strength, in the Zone his reflexes would be enhanced and his tolerance for pain ramped up.

Keeping him confined to the hole seemed the best course.

Hopefully Sora was just the pilot. But if she could Zone, he and Nessa were in trouble. Elias flipped his wallet open again and keyed a quick message to Qek, explaining what they’d found. If they didn’t make it back to the Chaos, she’d at least have a clue what had happened to them. He glanced at Nessa and nodded. They advanced to either side of the hole and Elias leaned out to peer down into the subfloor of the shop.

Beneath a layer of insulation obviously designed to protect the hidey hole was a laboratory full of humming terminals and a super main Ryan would pen sonnets about. They’d found Arlo Beck’s place, and the guy in the hole was waiting for them, looking up with a weirdly lopsided grin. “Took you long enough to break the lock, but you seem to have forgotten I like alarming doors.”

The hacker had a holo open showing a view of the interior of the shop. With the lack of light upstairs, he would have seen a door open and close. A low tech and silent alarm.

Elias couldn’t see Sora. He decided that was good. Meant she was out of the way. He pointed his stunner through the hole. “We just want our data returned, that’s all.”

“It’s a little late for that. I already sent it on to my employer.”

“At Leonis?”

The guy’s eyes narrowed a second before he shrugged.

“What’s out there?” Elias asked.

The skewed smile returned. “Oh, I think you know what’s out there.”

“More soldiers?”

“I’d be more worried about what’s here,” the guy answered, tapping the keyboard in front of him. “Your friend Dieter had quite a number of interesting theories.”

“Dieter didn’t know any more than the AEF. Project Dreamweaver isn’t viable.” And supposedly shut down. “Who’s in the Leonis System?”

“Dieter knew a lot, actually. Did you know he had the entire history of the project here? All the records supposedly sealed by the AEF.” The guy continued working the holo displays in front of him, apparently unconcerned by Elias and his stunner.

“Why would you want the history?”

“Because my employer is a very thorough individual.”

In the periphery of his vision, Elias saw Nessa had her wallet out and was keying a message. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised, but she didn’t look up. Movement in the hole drew his attention back downward, but it was too late. The hacker surged upward, hands outstretched, the outline of his fingers a blur. Elias ducked back, not keen on the idea of having the guy pass through him. The hacker slammed into him regardless, rolling him away from the hole. Elias’s stunner discharged uselessly.

A fist connected with his jaw. Light and pain obliterated everything for far too long. Elias couldn’t even shake his head, let alone get his feet under him. When his eyes stopped rolling, he checked to see his head was still attached to his neck.

Thank Christ Zed had never actually hit him. No man could survive two punches like that.

Chapter Seven

Zed had been on his share of forced marches. Part of their training at Shepard Academy had been focused on enhancing their stamina and endurance, conditioning that had been built upon when he’d moved on to specialist training and into his first posting in the AEF. During the war, there had been times when he’d had to hump dozens of kilometers in full kit. At a certain point, your body just took over, steps automatic and in time. One foot in front of the other, no matter how tired you got, how hot or how thirsty.

That training was the only thing keeping him moving now, a pace or two behind Flick as they moved toward higher ground. He’d even stopped admiring Flick’s ass. There was just nothing in him beyond the movement of his feet.

“Zed?”

Zed blinked and forced himself to focus, realizing Flick had asked him a question. It felt as if he had SFT stuffed between his ears. “Sorry. Didn’t catch that.”

Flick stopped. “You okay?”

Zed considered his answer. He felt slow and fuzzy, as if he was phase-shifted a few minutes in the past. His wrist, though—that was another matter. The bandage and splint did a decent job of keeping the bones in place, but it did nothing to cushion against movement. Every step was tiring, and when he stumbled...yeah, not fun. Not to mention it was fucking hot. And humid. He didn’t mind being planetside, usually, but he was starting to hate this rock.

“You’ve got some lag time there, huh.”

Zed grunted. “It’s hot.”

“Getting hotter too, I think.” Flick triggered his bracelet and consulted the display. “Yeah, the temperature’s climbing. This is what forty-three Celsius feels like, apparently.”

“Great.”

The storms they’d encountered entering the atmosphere seemed to be trapped above the ever-present cloud cover that turned the planet into a sauna. The temperature had been mild overnight, slightly warmer than they were used to aboard ship. As the suns approached their zenith, they couldn’t be seen clearly—but damn, they could sure feel their heat teasing sweat from their brows and odd scents from the landscape. A nutty aroma swirled around them, reminding Zed of hazelnut coffee...something that had once been his favorite drink.

“I’m getting soft,” he muttered. “When I was in covert ops, minor injuries and lack of sleep meant nothing.”

Flick shrugged and unclipped his canteen from his belt. They’d found a stream earlier—actual fresh water—and the filter built into the canteen’s material would ensure the liquid was free of microbes. He handed it over to Zed. “Wartime is different, though, right? You’re mentally prepared for hardship.”

“Maybe.” Zed tipped the canteen back, allowing himself only a few sips. The water tasted weird, warm and mineral-laden, but it was wet. He swayed a little as he brought the canteen back down, and Flick grabbed his elbow.

“You’re not really okay.” Flick’s voice was filled with concern—or maybe that was his touch. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between input from the regular five senses and their connection.

Zed handed the canteen back. “I’ll do what’s needed.”

Flick just looked at him for a few moments, tension making the scar along his cheek and jaw stand out. Zed didn’t need their link to know his lover was thinking hard about options—probably something along the lines of finding Zed a spot to rest and then continuing on alone.

“Fine,” Flick said finally. “We’ll keep walking for now. But if it gets any hotter—”

“If it gets any hotter, I’m dragging you into the shade.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They started hiking again. The heat and close air both conspired to send Zed back into that almost trancelike march quickly. The high ground they were aiming for didn’t seem to be getting any closer, and the absolute lack of vegetation as they gained altitude made it difficult to judge distances. For as far as Zed could see in any direction, if he lifted his eyes from Flick’s back, there were only rocks. The ground beneath their feet was rock, the dust they kicked up on occasion was ground-up rock, and the only source of shade was the larger rocks scattered here and there like forgotten marbles. Giant forgotten marbles.

The air closed in, tight and hot. One foot in front of the other. That was all that mattered.

Zed didn’t realize Flick had stopped until he walked into him. Flick grabbed his elbow and tugged him over to a half circle of giant boulders with one balanced above—an accidental cave that offered some respite from the thick air. They ducked inside. Zed’s head spun as he sank to the ground, back to the rock, his eyes closed.

“Jesus,” Flick gasped, sitting beside him. A brief pause, then, “No fucking wonder it’s getting hard to breathe. It’s forty-seven.” He pressed the canteen into Zed’s hand. “Drink.”

Zed had a few swallows, cognizant of the fact that he needed to leave enough for Flick. He held it out, eyes still closed, and focused on breathing. In, out, a steady rhythm just like the march they’d abandoned.

Flick drank, the sound of his swallows clear in the small cave, then capped the canteen. “Talk to me.”

“I hate this planet.”

Flick huffed out a half chuckle. “You and me both. Between the bugs and the heat...” He sighed. “I’m beyond glad you’re here with me. But also frustrated that you’re...here.”

Because he wasn’t safe. Yeah, Zed got that. His lips curved in a broad smile. “It’s cute when you worry about me.”

Flick made a dismissive sound. “Need some more water?”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to keep coddling me.”

“I haven’t even asked how your wrist is.”

“You’re thinking it, though.”

“Actually, I’m more worried about your head.”

Zed leaned into him. “Just tired from the heat.”

Flick shifted and Zed cracked his eyes open to see him working the rudimentary medical scan on his bracelet.

“You’re not very sneaky,” Zed murmured.

“Just sit still.” After a few seconds, the scan beeped, showing readings within normal parameters—considering the preexisting concussion and broken wrist. Core temperature was a little high, but hopefully sitting beneath the rock would help with that.

“Should scan yourself while you’re at it,” Zed suggested. “This heat, the funky water.”

Flick complied without a complaint. Like Zed, he was slightly dehydrated—and there was a minor muscle strain in his back. After checking the outside temperature again—forty-eight Celsius now—he made a noise of disgust and disengaged his bracelet. “You ever see that holo, the one with the prison planet that had virtually no atmosphere, so when the sun rose, it roasted the surface? If you weren’t in the shade, you were sausage.”

Zed turned to look at him. “No, I did not. Thanks for that thought. That’s exactly what I needed.”

“The story was pretty good.”

“Stop.”

“What? I’m just saying...”

“If I dream about roasted people during my nap, Felix, I’m not going to be happy.”

“Oh, we’re napping?”

Zed leaned more heavily against Flick. “Yeah. We’re napping.”

“Better tuck your hands and feet in closer so the sun doesn’t get them.” Zed could hear the smile in Flick’s voice.

“You are such an asshole.”

* * *

Sounds tickled his ringing ears. Scuffling and a quiet yell. Elias rolled onto his side and pushed up to his knees. By the time his vision cleared, he could hear nothing but the thrum of his pulse and the wheeze of his breath. The door hung half-open and the shop was quiet, dark and empty.

Oh God, no...

Elias turned and nearly collapsed when he saw Nessa sprawled across the floor on the other side of the hole. Limbs trembling, he crawled over and blinked down at her still form. She lay on her back, arms and legs aligned neatly, as if she’d been set down gently. Her head tilted toward the hole, the dim illumination enough to see her eyes were closed, her lips parted. She could have been asleep.

He didn’t want to touch her. He was afraid to touch her.

Elias grasped the ankle closest to him. She was so warm. How long would she remain warm if—

“Stop it,” he muttered. Moving up to her side, he touched her neck. A steady pulse beat softly against his fingers. Elias breathed out.

Nessa’s medical wallet dangled from her left hand. Elias plucked it from her fingers and brought up the diagnostic program. Over the past few months, she’d taught him the basics. He’d never be a doctor, just as he’d never be a pilot. But he made an adequate field medic. He scanned her and read the report. She’d been knocked out with one of her own hypos.

While trying not to think about the humor in the situation—perhaps later...much, much later—Elias decided Sora must also be enhanced. A super soldier. It wouldn’t have been easy to get the drop on Nessa, turn her own weapon against her. Only someone with preternatural speed and agility could have done it.

Taking her fingers in his, Elias slumped back to the ground. Until she woke up, he didn’t have anywhere to be and every time he blinked his head he took a tour of the galaxy. Gingerly, he tested his jaw. Opening his mouth caused pain. Wouldn’t Fixer think that was a riot? A quick scan determined nothing was broken, just badly bruised. Contused?

By the time he was done, another silhouette—this one familiar—filled the open doorway.

“Hey, Qek. You missed the party.”

“I surmised as much. As soon as the Blythe left her moorings, I tried calling you. I could not ping either of your wallets, which caused me much consternation.” With her eyes wide and her face smooth, Qek did look concerned. “Are you and Nessa well?”

“I think so...wait, you said the Blythe has left?”

“Approximately twenty minutes ago. The jump queue wait is minimal here.”

By the time they got back to the Chaos, she’d be gone.

“Shit.”

“‘S okay,” Nessa murmured.

“Ness!” Letting go of her hand, Elias leaned over to cup her cheek. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Are they gone?”

“Yeah, they nearly broke my jaw and gave you a dose of your own medicine.”

Nessa chuckled quietly. “Bound to happen sooner or later.” Sobering, she added, “She was so fast.”

“They both were. Can you sit up?”

“I’ll be fine in a minute. It wasn’t a big shot. I should only have been out for an hour.”

An hour? He’d rolled around on the floor with the world spinning for that long? He must have been out for a while somewhere in there. “We lost the Blythe and Dieter’s data, whatever it was,” he said.

Nessa shook her head. “No, we didn’t and I know where the Blythe is going.”

“Where?”

“Back to Leonis. I had Marnie mess up comms on station, so they wouldn’t have been able to transmit the data from here. They might be able to do it from j-space, if the Blythe is equipped to send jazers.” Tight-beam communications and equipment were extremely expensive. Most ships relied on relay point comms, or ripcomms, in real space. “Either way, they got what they came for, so they’re probably going home.”

“That’s what you were doing while I was talking to the guy in the hole?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So you forced them to leave.”

“I thought if I made getting off-station or back to their ship more important than dealing with us, we’d have a better chance.”

“It seems you were correct,” Qek said. “But what about the data?”

Nessa smiled. “You don’t think Marnie would have a backup of Dieter’s backup?”

“If she doesn’t, she’s going to be mighty pissed,” Elias said.

“I think Mrs. Scott’s temperament is the least of our current worries.”

Qek was right.

Elias smoothed his palm over the top of his head. It didn’t hurt...much. “Hopefully Zed and Fix are having an easier time on their trail.”

“They missed their last check-in,” Qek said, “but Fixer’s previous message indicated one of the planets at 83 Leonis was cloaked in an ionized atmosphere. It is possible they are experiencing difficulties with their comms equipment.”

Elias blamed his recent brush with death for the foreboding tickling the back of his neck. “When’s the next call due?”

“Tomorrow, at twelve hundred Standard.”

Nessa checked her wallet. “We could be at the asteroid by then.”

“No need to go there. If Marnie has the data, she has it. Not going to help us any. Let’s head straight to Leonis. Catch up with Fix and Zed.”

* * *

Felix didn’t nap. He watched the temperature peak at fifty Celsius, hold steady for half an hour, then mercifully begin to drop. If he and Zed ever did quit shipping shit from one end of the galaxy to another, they were not retiring to a planet. Nope. Never.

“When’s our next check-in with the Chaos?” Zed murmured.

Felix glanced over to see Zed eyeing him through puffy slits. “We’ve missed it.”

Zed licked his lips. Normally fascinated by the sight of his lover’s tongue, Felix watched the dry pink tip catch twice. Feeling just as parched, he nudged the canteen forward. “Temperature is dropping again. We should be able to get moving in an hour or so.” Assuming the banked clouds didn’t hold the heat steady all afternoon. He checked his bracelet and saw they were already back to forty-seven Celsius.

Zed passed the canteen back. Felix set it against the latch on his belt.

“Take a sip,” Zed said, his voice rough, but still commanding.

Felix took a sip.

They didn’t leave the shelter for two hours—when the temperature dropped below broil. Another four hours saw them cresting the last rise. The climb had been long, but not particularly steep. Beyond the summit, however, the ground simply dropped away, as if the planet had been torn open. Far below, a deep ravine stretched in either direction for as far as Felix could see. Across the ravine, another plateau shone purple beneath the last of the diffuse sunlight. If a bridge spanned the gap, they might reach the other side in perhaps half an hour. It was distant enough to be hazy. But there was no bridge and no immediately discernible way down.

Felix didn’t particularly want to find a way down or across. Not right now. He’d rather collapse where they were—and he had a beacon to set up. Zed helped him pull it off his back and reassemble the parts. The remaining sun had all but dipped below the distant horizon by the time Felix opened the holo interface on his bracelet and activated it.

“Well, it’s on. Fuck knows if the signal will penetrate the atmosphere.”

Zed handed him a protein bar. “Take a break. Come watch the sunset with me.”

Despite the fatigue pulling at his limbs and thoughts, Felix smiled. He’d almost forgotten Zed liked to watch the sky—what he called the real sky—from far below the atmosphere. While Felix preferred to observe planets through a view screen, Zed had always liked to look up. How many sunrises, sunsets, eclipses and meteor showers had Zed insisted they watch from the roof of Shepard Academy? Usually it had been all of them sprawled up there on an eclectic array of blankets and cushions. Zed, Felix, Marnie, Ryan and Emma. The Fantastic Five. Their school crew. Friends from the first year to the last. Friends still—except for Emma, who lived on in their memories. Often enough it had just been Felix and Zed sprawled side by side, looking up. Watching the stars, dreaming, sometimes exchanging the simple words friends used to communicate complicated concepts.

Zed had spread a blanket just far enough back from the cliff edge not to experience vertigo. Even then, at school, he’d never wanted to get too close to the edge of the roof. How he could look up and not feel the same distance was beyond Felix. He sat next to Zed and looked out across the ravine. The setting sun painted the thick and hazy atmosphere with brilliant colors. Names hadn’t been invented for half of them. Felix watched, mesmerized, as the colors spread and faded, moving through various shades along the way. When the sun disappeared, he let out a long breath.

“That was...”

“Beautiful,” Zed provided, slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Zed’s thumb brushed Felix’s cheek and he leaned into the touch. If he could discount the fact they were marooned, the scene might be more than nostalgic. Might even be romantic. Zed thought it was. Felix could tell by the soft and contented hum traveling through his skin.

A spike of anxiety trickled across. Zed leaned forward. “Is that light down there?” He pointed to his left, along the ravine.

Felix blinked into the near dark. Mentally, he tried to fit what might actually be a light into their flight path. Could that be the source of the power signature Zed had detected? Was it a settlement? “Maybe.”

Bigger and smaller questions nagged at him. With the fall of night, the matter of indigenous wildlife cropped up again. They’d seen nothing but the bugs over the course of one complete cycle—about twenty-eight Standard hours—but that didn’t mean there were no larger creatures lurking out there. And what about the reason they were here? The missing Project Dreamweaver data and people other than Zed with the ability to Zone and phase-shift.

Fuck, no wonder Zed felt anxious.

Zed turned to face him, his face lit only by the small ambient glow of the beacon. “Nothing we can do about it tonight.”

“If we live to see tomorrow, maybe we should check it out.”

“We’re going to live to see tomorrow, Flick.”

“What makes you so sure?” Not that Felix doubted him, not really. Nothing had tried to eat them the night before.

“Because the galaxy has gotta be sick of trying to kill us.”

Felix let out a soft snort. “Not sure if that’s comforting or not.”

“Let’s pretend it is.”

Zed kissed him and Felix met the gentle touch, happy to restore the contented hum to Zed’s thoughts. Their lips brushed together once, twice, the contact almost a sweet nuzzle. Then Zed leaned in, deepening the connection, and Felix fell swiftly into a familiar thrall. Zed’s mouth tasted of protein bar and funky water, but beneath lay him. The essence of the man Felix loved and desired.

Heat flushed his skin, from his neck down—quickening the lazy thrum of his pulse. He felt Zed’s hand move around behind his head, fingers poking into his curls and caressing his scalp. Then Zed was encouraging him to lie back. Not to sleep—Zed’s mounting excitement thrummed through the connection. The same tingle that tripped toward Felix’s fingers and toes, through his gut and down into his balls. He’d bet his share of the Chaos Zed was half-hard. He was.

But when Zed had Felix sprawled beneath him on the ground, hips pressed together to confirm they were both challenging the confines of their pants, a quick flare of frustration interrupted what should have been a headlong fall into something more than a kiss. With his broken wrist splinted and strapped to his chest, Zed had only one hand free—and had to use it to hold himself up.

“Fuck.” He shifted awkwardly back to his knees.

Felix didn’t have to touch him to feel the anxiety creeping back in, cooling the flush of desire, tempting his thoughts away from physical release. If they were aboard their ship—or anywhere with something they could use as lube—Felix would roll him back and fuck him stupid. Drive every thought out of his head in the best way he knew.

Instead, he pushed up to his elbows and grabbed Zed’s hand. “Lie down next to me.”

Zed hesitated for just long enough to show how far he’d drifted. “Maybe we should—”

“Lie down, soldier.”

Zed’s mouth crooked up on one side. “Sir, yes, sir.” He lay down on the blanket and tipped his head toward Felix.

Tempted by his beautiful mouth, Felix kissed him again. Zed protested when he pulled away, only to smile as Felix got up, straddled his hips and leaned in for another kiss. No gentle nudges this time. Felix kissed him hard and deep, calling Zed’s tongue out to play almost at once, thrusting past any motion too gentle, nibbling on Zed’s deliciously full lower lip. Zed moaned audibly and physically. Abandoning Zed’s mouth, Felix moved down over his jaw and sucked at his neck. Stubble scraped his lips. The taste of sweat hardened his cock. He’d always liked the smell of a man, the taste that lingered beneath any soap, no matter how fancy.

Zed arched beneath him, as if plucked up from the middle. “Flick.” A deep groan reverberated through his skin.

“Right here.” Bracing himself on one hand, Felix reached down to stroke the hot, hard ridge of Zed’s erection. Zed’s next groan shook him. Grinning, Felix bit at the point of a nipple poking through the SFT of Zed’s shirt. He tongued the small round end of a barbell piercing, tasting dust and leaving a wet spot for the smart fabric to deal with.

“Dear God, don’t stop,” Zed hissed.

“I’m the one giving orders here.”

Zed answered with a choked laugh, pushing into Felix’s hand.

Fuck the lube. If they were aboard a ship, he’d strip Zed of all his clothing, article by article, and pay homage to each centimeter of skin he bared. He’d trace every tattoo and scar with his tongue, leave the impression of his teeth in unexpected places. Reduce Zed to a quivering, incoherent mess. Then he’d suck him off.

He settled for flicking the wet fabric over Zed’s nipple, knowing the drag of material across so sensitive a point would feel almost as good as skin against skin. Zed uttered something incoherent. His cock twitched.

Felix gave it a quick squeeze before moving his hand away. “What was that?”

“Wish you could fuck me. Need you.”

You and me both. “Going to suck you so hard you won’t be able to think for a week.” Not about planets that should be deserted, or soldiers that shouldn’t exist.

“Yeeess.” Zed thrust his hips upward.

Felix opened Zed’s old-fashioned belt and tugged his pants down, catching his underwear at the same time. Zed’s cock sprang free. In the muted light of the beacon, it looked purple. Moving to kneel between Zed’s legs, Felix wrapped his fingers around the hot velvety length and leaned in to inhale the musk of Zed’s skin. He lapped at the pearly drop of precome rolling down from the slit. Curled his tongue around the flare of Zed’s glans and sucked.

Zed jerked beneath him. He might have shouted. Felix could only hear the echo of sound, as if it had come from Zed’s mind, through their connection. Maybe it had. He worked Zed’s cock like a fleshy popsicle for a while, knowing the tease would drive his lover to distraction. Zed humped and shuddered. He whimpered and moaned. He found Felix’s ear and tugged. A stream of pleas filled the night.

“More...please, more. Don’t stop...Jesus, Flick. Harder, suck...Oh, so good.”

Every word was music. Every word was Zed distracted from time and space.

Felix sucked harder, gave more. Took as much of Zed’s length into his mouth as he could. He reveled in the familiar nudge at the back of his throat. Swallowed, opened, took more. Beneath him, Zed quaked. He yanked on Felix’s ear. But the movement of his hips was too restrained. He was holding back.

Felix sent another command across their mental connection. “Let go.” He didn’t mean stop tugging on his ear. He meant Give in. Stop thinking and just fuck my mouth.

Zed’s hand cupped the back of his head, fingers slipping through his curls—not caressing this time. Pulling. Felix sent encouraging thoughts. Then, wetting a finger, he snuck it beneath Zed’s tight nuts to stroke at his hole. Zed thrust hard. With a short, sharp cry, he let go. His hips drove up and back. He tightened his hold on Felix’s hair and pulled him closer. He let go...and fucked Felix’s mouth.

Felix would allow no one else to do this to him. To use his mouth roughly, to batter at his throat. But for Zed he was a willing vessel, and that knowledge—and acknowledgement—seeped across the connection both ways. And, just as he’d instructed Zed, Felix let go. Let it happen.

The rhythm of Zed’s hips quickly became erratic. He paused and Felix breathed—and swallowed saliva and precome. Then Zed thrust up a handful of times, grunting and gasping. Felix willed himself to stillness and waited for the inevitable end. Zed came. The hot-cool flesh of his thighs shuddered close to Felix’s mouth as he shot down Felix’s throat. Felix swallowed mindlessly, knowing he’d choke if he stopped to think.

The mental aspect of Zed’s orgasm reached out and caught him, nearly drowning Felix in sensation. Zed always came hard, as if every climax might be his last. Felix didn’t see the colors that invaded Zed’s vision afterward, but he felt them in moments like this, as though the rainbow were merely a side effect of an emotional overload. All the love, all the care. Accepted, treasured, returned.

Zed’s cock was deservedly limp when Felix pulled away to rest his cheek against the crinkly hair of Zed’s bare thigh. Zed patted his forehead, the gesture apathetic. Felix chuckled quietly—the movement of his throat not quite comfortable after the punishment of Zed’s cock. He licked his puffy lips and hoped they had more than a dribble of water left in the flask.

Zed’s voice rumbled through his skin. “Fuck, that was intense. Seeing you down there with your mouth stretched wide.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How ’bout you?” That was Zed all over. All thought sucked through the end of his cock, but still wondering if his partner might like to get off.

Felix pushed at the half-hard lump in his pants, rearranged it a little. “I’m good.”

“Very good.” The familiar rejoinder had Felix smiling. “But I don’t—”

Felix crawled back up to Zed’s mouth and shut him up with a bitter, salty kiss. Zed stopped talking. The important thing, though, was that their mental connection fell quiet. Zed might be capable of making his lips move, but the only thing on his mind was the taste of his come and the satisfied ache in his empty balls.

Chapter Eight

“Fucking piece of shit!”

The curse jolted Zed from sleep. He snorted and blinked, trying to orient himself. Hard stone, black sky with three hazy moons—and a tense, holo-illuminated figure getting ready to kick the beacon to the ground.

“Don’t break it.” Zed levered himself up with his good hand, grunting softly as the movement jarred his bad wrist.

“Wouldn’t matter. The fucking thing isn’t working.” Rather than kick the beacon itself, Flick kicked gravel at it.

“You sure?”

The holo gave off just enough light for Zed to make out the scowl Flick cast in his direction. “Yes, I’m sure. The signal isn’t penetrating the upper atmosphere. It’s stalling at fifty kilometers up and bouncing back.” He waved his holo as though Zed would be able to make out the readings despite the distance.

“Do we need to get higher?”

Flick stabbed at his bracelet and extinguished the holo interface. “We’re not going to get enough altitude to make a difference. If we could get airborne, sure, but unless you’ve been keeping flight capabilities a secret...” He sighed at Zed’s snort and made his way over to Zed’s side, collapsing ungracefully beside him. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“So we need a new plan.” Zed pushed to his feet, trying like hell to keep the discomfort in his wrist to himself. Flick worried too much about him already—he didn’t want to exacerbate that. He retrieved his wallet one-handed and shined the limited light on the ground, unwilling to chance missing the edge of the plateau. Thanks to his messed-up brain chemistry, his eyesight wasn’t all that good in the dark—without the Zone, his vision interpreted shadows as darker than normal and lights brighter, which made getting around at night tricky at times. The three moons, barely visible through the cloud cover, did little to illuminate the landscape.

Looking down into the ravine, he spotted the light that had been there earlier. More than one, actually. They seemed to dance, but Zed figured it was just the stumpy trees waving their spindly leaves in the slight breeze and interfering. Whether it was a settlement or another downed ship, he had no idea. Lifting his wallet, he tried to calculate distance. The app spit back a stupid number to start—one thousand kilometers, which was bullshit—then something a little more reasonable.

“That light is still there. About ten klicks away.”

“The light that might be an unsanctioned experimental laboratory? That one?”

“Hey, why didn’t I think it might be dangerous?” Zed rolled his eyes and returned to the spot they’d picked out for sleeping, then lay back down beside Flick. “If we can’t get a message out with the beacon, we need to find another way. Right?”

Flick grunted, clearly not willing to go along with his thinking just yet.

“It might not be a settlement. Might be a ship.” Flick’s snort told him what he thought of that. Not that Zed could disagree—given that the data trail ended here and the fact that the atmosphere didn’t seem too friendly to ships, it was probably some sort of base. “Look. Getting into occupied territory was what I did during the war.”

“With a full team. Without a broken wrist and head injury.”

“I’ve got you. And my head isn’t bugging me too much anymore.” Flick arched a brow. After a minute, Zed gave a shrug. “Okay, yes, my wrist is not in the best shape for this. But—” his glare overrode Flick’s attempt to say I told you so or something similar “—we don’t have a whole lot of choice here.”

Flick squirmed and a sound of discomfort left his throat, as though the idea of Zed in danger physically pained him. “We could just wait. Elias will figure out soon that we’re in trouble.”

“And what if he doesn’t? Or what if they’re in trouble too?” Zed regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, and he rushed to cover them. “I’m not saying they are—I mean, we’re the ones who stepped in it. All I’m saying is that we don’t know what’s going on out there and therefore we can’t depend on help arriving.” In time went unspoken.

Things had been relatively easy so far. But they would run out of protein bars in the next day or so. The surface water was potable—with filtering—but God knew if any of the fruit or animals on this planet would be edible. If they didn’t get word out soon, things were going to get a lot more serious very quickly.

Lips pressed into a thin line, Flick snuggled closer. “What are you thinking?”

“We’ll assume it’s a settlement of some sort. Simple recon. If I can identify a comms station, infiltration.”

“Simple.” Flick huffed. Fear cascaded across their connection.

Zed touched the fingers of his good hand to Felix’s crystalline one. “I know. But besides getting a message out, we need to know what’s going on down there.”

Flick made a noncommittal grunt.

Zed took a deep breath, letting calmness fill him, hoping it would trickle across to Flick. “Remember the big Capture the Flag game we did in senior year? Right before graduation?”

Flick’s lips twitched, curving up on one side. “We kicked ass.”

“Yeah. The principle is the same.” Flick had probably run similar exercises in specialist training—but not as many as Zed had, since Flick’s focus had been on ship tech and not ground forces maneuvers. Zed had the experience of practical application of the techniques too. “Go in all sneaky. If there are guards, take one out, grab his weapon, and you’re armed.”

“And then just avoid all the other bad guys.” Flick sucked in a big breath, one that wavered a bit. “Okay. We’ll do it. But if we get caught, I’m kicking your ass.”

Zed pressed a kiss to the golden blond curls he loved so much. “Yeah, if we do, I’ll bend over to make it easier.”

* * *

As the blush of first dawn colored the sky—Zed wasn’t sure if it was in the eastern sky or not, since his wallet still wasn’t cooperating—they abandoned the useless beacon and headed downslope into the scraggly forest. The gloom beneath the trees was deep and all but impenetrable to his impaired vision. But Flick could pick his way easily enough, so Zed followed him. They’d learned their lesson the previous day—it was best to put up with some temporary lack of light than lose hours and klicks to the heat of midday.

For the first forty-five minutes or so, Zed concentrated on putting his feet in Flick’s path. Tripping would be bad, particularly with one arm still out of commission and strapped to his chest. His head, though much improved, wouldn’t appreciate a fall either. As the light strengthened, reaching down into the ravine and through the forest, Zed loosened some of his focus on the ground and looked at their surroundings.

Like the trees they’d encountered closer to the sea, these were short and spindly, no taller than a one-story house—though their bark was less rough, maybe because they were more protected from the elements as a group. The leaves looked something like palm fronds, with fewer leaves on a stalk, but they overlapped enough to provide adequate protection from the blazing suns. The forest floor was nothing like Zed had ever seen before, rocky and bare. It was as if the trees had carved themselves pockets in the bedrock and nothing else could penetrate. Of all the weird things Zed had seen so far on this planet, this was the one that struck him with a jarring sense of wrongness. Forests were supposed to have underbrush, vegetation of varying thicknesses, rich soil underfoot from all the natural decay. Not so here.

Zed skipped over a midsized rock and bit back a hiss as the landing jolted his wrist. He mangled the sound into a hum or something as Flick looked back at him. “So...about what we were talking about.”

“Your plan to get into what we hope is an innocent but probably illegal settlement?” Flick snorted. “I don’t really want to hash it out until we get a better idea—”

“No. I mean on the ship.” He sucked in a breath and leaped off the metaphorical cliff. “Marriage.”

“You want to dig in to that here? Now?”

“You got anything better to do?”

“Yeah. Hiking.”

Zed brushed his forearm past his nose, scratching an itch absently and thankful that his thoughts seemed to be less fuzzy than the day before. “This is nothing. A ten-k hike was a daily thing in training. Your brain is free to have a conversation.”

Flick grunted. Zed wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or his way of indicating that no, actually, he couldn’t spare the brainpower to speak. Didn’t matter either way.

“You never really said why you were against getting married, just that you were.” Zed dodged a tree and got Flick back in sight. “So?”

For a couple of minutes, Zed thought the earlier grunt was the only contribution Flick intended to make to the conversation. But then he blew out a loud breath and cast a look over his shoulder. “You know my parents weren’t married, right?”

“No. I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, well. Getting a marriage license cost money. So did having a ceremony—or at least getting someone to officially recognize it.” Flick shrugged, then stuck out his crystalline hand to help him navigate around a tree. “It wasn’t like any of my friends’ parents were married, either. Until I met you.”

“Huh.” Zed really didn’t know what else to say. He’d known Flick’s family had been barely scraping by, with his dad’s disability and his mother’s chronic illness—hell, they’d met when Flick lifted his wallet at age eight. But he hadn’t really stopped to think about what that meant. Some things had been really obvious, particularly when they’d started at Shepard Academy. Flick’s tendency to clear anything he couldn’t eat at mealtimes into a disposable container to take back to their room, for instance. School staff hadn’t liked it, and it had taken Flick a good three-quarters of a year to break the habit. So yeah, it had been apparent that food had been an issue back on Pontus Station. Zed had never known marriage was as well.

“It didn’t change how my dad thought of my mom. Or vice versa. Mom used his name too—not like there was any official documentation on her.” Right, she’d been something of an immigrant from another station, one without papers—Zed remembered that coming out during one of their late-night talks as kids. It had been the biggest obstacle preventing her from getting good treatment for her disease. “So I never considered getting married. When I clued in that I liked boys, I reckoned it was completely off the table anyway.”

“Men have been allowed to marry other men since the fucking twenty-first century, Flick,” Zed growled. “Why would you think it was off the table?”

“How many guys go dreaming of their wedding day, huh? I didn’t. Didn’t think anyone I’d end up with would, either.”

“I never dreamed about my wedding day.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t!”

“Yeah, you did.” Flick tossed him a wicked grin. “C’mon, ‘fess up. You sat in your room as a kid and dreamed about what you’d wear.”

Heat rose in Zed’s cheeks. “Fuck off.”

Flick chuckled.

Zed rumbled, but the low, dangerous noise didn’t deter Flick.

“Did you have the location all picked out? The flowers? How old were you?”

“Fuck,” Zed muttered, swiping his good hand through his damp hair. The heat was starting to kick up. “I was ten. There was a holo series with these two guys who fell in love and wanted to get married—and one of them was a wedding planner or something—but there were all these obstacles...” Softly, as though it absolved him, he added, “Maddox watched it.”

“Wait, you watched a series about two guys in a romantic relationship and you didn’t figure out you were bisexual?”

“I was ten!”

Flick considered that. “Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

“So no, I didn’t have any elaborate plans or anything, but...yeah, you know. I thought about it. I wanted it. Then Brennan got married, and Maddox...and I...I want that, Flick.”

He could picture it. His mother sitting in the front row with tears in her eyes, his father beaming with pride, his brothers standing beside him, with Elias, Ness and Qek standing with Flick. The ceremony, Flick in his best formal wear—which they’d have to buy for this occasion, and that would make it even more special. Smiles and laughter as they exchanged their vows. He wanted it all. But what he longed for most was the sense of recognition of their commitment—from family, friends, the government.

“It won’t change anything about how we feel about each other. It’s just a lot of pomp and—”

“What’s so wrong with standing up in front of everyone we know and saying, publicly, that we’re together? That we’re it for each other?”

“Everyone we know already knows that.”

Zed stopped, his good hand on his hip, and stared at the ground, counting. This conversation—this argument—was a circle, a circle he couldn’t see a way to break out of.

“You okay?”

Flick drew nearer and Zed shifted away, unwilling to look at him directly just yet. He was angry, annoyed, exasperated—and he didn’t want it bubbling up into Flick’s face. “I’m frustrated,” he said in a low, rough voice. “I mean, I get what you’re saying, I honestly do. I just don’t understand why you’re so adamant when there are so many benefits to getting married. It’s not like your parents—we have the money for a license. It won’t be a hardship. And it would take care of so much.”

Flick moved away, his steps crunching on the scree scattered about the rocky floor. “That’s what you said on the ship, that you wanted to take care of—what the fuck!”

Spinning, Zed jerked forward toward Flick, spurred on by the panic in his voice. Flick leaned on his left leg and shook his right, as if something had gotten up his pant leg.

“Get it off me!” His voice was high-pitched, frantic.

“Get what off you?” Zed moved forward, good hand extended, then froze as he saw what Flick was talking about.

A tentacle. A fucking tentacle coming right out of the rock, wrapped around Flick’s boot.

* * *

The thing sprouting from the rock coiled around his calf like rope—sinuous, fleshy, moving-all-by-its-fucking-self rope. Knowing he was making pathetic whimpering noises—and not particularly caring—Felix shook his leg in an attempt to dislodge it, the thing, the—

Did he dare touch it?

A tickle around his other calf alerted him to the fact fleshy had a friend. “Fuck, Zed, stop staring and get this thing off me.”

Another backward step had him falling on his ass. Felix hit the rock hard, air exploding from his lungs in another yell. The hazy light caught and flashed from his crystalline arm, reminding him he had an appendage not made of flesh.

“Wait!” He waved Zed back and...hesitated.

His arm wasn’t skin and bone. Maybe the rock monster wouldn’t recognize it as part of its prey. Sucking in a squeaking breath, Felix extended his shiny fingers toward one of the tentacle things. The tip waved up off his leg as if sniffing the air. Then it struck his hand and wrapped tightly around his crystal skin. It did not feel good. Warm and clinging and strong. The toes of his trapped leg had started to tingle.

“Okay, now you can get it off me!”

Oh, what the fuck was that?

Another tentacle shot up out of a fissure in the rock behind Zed. Yelling, Zed leaped aside with the speed of the Zone. Then there were points waving everywhere—rising, flexing and coiling. A forest of dusky flesh.

Scrambling backward on his ass, Felix yanked his legs in an attempt to pull them from the tentacles’ grasp.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Zed continued to swear as he zipped back and forth across the rocky ground, his enhanced speed apparently confusing the waving appendages. Felix reached for his boot, biting his lip as his wrist brushed the back of a tentacle, and pulled out the knife he kept sheathed against his ankle. He hefted the grip to make sure he had a good hold and slashed at the tentacle wrapped around his left arm.

A high-pitched screech ripped through the air. All the tentacles froze in place for a second, and then a wave seemed to ripple through them, causing every one to undulate in rhythm.

“What did you do?” Zed paused in front of him. His outline blurred as he caught a tentacle midcurl and flung it away.

“I cut it.” Felix slashed at the tentacle again and the screeching rose up, the volume of it pushing at his eardrums. He hacked and slashed until he’d sawed through the thing around his arm. Before he could tend to his legs, something thumped him in the back. Then another something—at a guess, another fucking tentacle—circled his throat.

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Felix grabbed at it with his crystal fingers, tucking them under the fleshy rope starting to choke him. “Zed!”

Zed crouched, wrapped his good arm around Felix’s torso and yanked him backward. The grip of the tentacle about his throat loosened slightly, but his legs were still caught fast.

“I don’t think we can just pull free. Try squeezing the fuckers or something.” The tentacle tightened again. Oh for the love of...Felix waved his knife backward. “Or cut them,” he wheezed.

The tentacle at his throat pulled his crystal hand up against his neck where he managed to do little more than bruise his own flesh. Black spots danced lazily at the edges of his vision, bobbing up and down, widening and thinning. Vaguely, he was aware of something slithering up under his utility pants. His skin twitched under the weird and clingy touch. Felix kicked his legs out and tried to rock backward.

Zed plucked the knife from his grasp and began cutting in wide slashes, each interspersed by a trip across the rocks and back. Only continuous and erratic movement seemed to keep him from being caught. Felix felt the binding around his throat give way, then one of his legs was released. Gasping for breath, he put his hands down and tried to push upward. He needed to stand. He needed to run.

Another cut and his other leg was free. Zed caught him around the torso and everything blurred. Zed had Zoned again. Bile shot up the back of Felix’s throat as the world moved past him way too fast. Then the ground became the sky or vice versa and they were falling—skidding, bouncing off tree trunks and rolling in between. Zed must have tripped. Trees whacked him across the back and legs. Rocks skittered before them, clacking downslope. He attempted to grab the next tree, nails scraping across the weirdly smooth bark as the weight of Zed tugged him free. He grabbed at another and got a good enough hold to wrap both arms around it. The weight of Zed nearly yanked them free. Felix held on tight and they both fell against the hard, rocky ground. Zed let go.

Shaking his head only made his vision swim faster, but Felix wasn’t going to rest until he checked the rock for cracks and waving tentacles. “Can’t stay here.” His throat was as dry as the dusty haze swirling around them. “Zed?”

Felix plucked his arms away from the trunk and curled around. Zed was behind him, sprawled faceup across the rocks, one arm and both legs at straight angles, thank all those useless gods. Felix crawled to his side and brushed the hair away from his face. Pale skin, damp brow, closed eyes. Felix patted his cheek. “Zed!”

Zed’s eyes cracked open. “I’m alive, jus’ resting my eyes.”

Felix answered with a vague whimper. Sitting back on his heels, he quickly surveyed the terrain. The good news was they were halfway down the ravine. Better news would be an apparent lack of broken bones. He hurt all over, but in a bruised and winded kind of way. Even better news was the absence of flying tentacles. Best news of all was the trickle of water close by. His canteen was empty.

Felix activated the medical application on his bracelet.

Zed groaned. “I can tell you what hurts. My head and my wrist. And I think your knife shaved my ankle.”

“What?”

“I tucked it into my boot.”

Felix didn’t know whether to grin or grumble. Choosing neither, he bent forward and nosed Zed’s cheek. “If it hurts, you’re alive and that’s all that matters.”

“Are we away from the tentacles?”

“I think so.”

“Good, because I don’t even want to think about moving right now.”

Chapter Nine

Zed woke with a hand over his mouth.

Jerking fully awake, he reached back to grab whoever had captured him—only to belatedly recognize the whispers of reassurance weaving through his brain. Flick. It was Flick. He sagged in relief, then stiffened, realizing that Flick would have only awoken him this way for one reason.

“Quiet,” Flick’s mind-voice whispered. “Something’s out there.”

Flick had managed to get him up and moving a few hours before to find a place to hole up during the suns’ zenith. They’d taken refuge in the shadow of a pair of boulders. Zed remembered dozing through the worst of the heat—only slightly mitigated by the patchy canopy and depth of the ravine. Flick had roused him now and again to drink. He must have fallen more deeply asleep after his last mouthful of tepid water, as dusk now enshrouded them. The suns probably weren’t fully down yet, but here in the valley, darkness encroached as though it were coming up on midnight. He hoped the deep shadows would help to further conceal them.

Zed sent uncertainty over their link. His head was better than it had been after their uncontrolled downhill race and the subsequent crash, but he didn’t feel up to forming mental words.

Flick didn’t move, but Zed swore he could feel a mental shrug.

They remained still as a creature’s pig-like snuffling sounded far too close for comfort. They hadn’t seen any predators yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Eventually the soft crunch of something moving receded into the gloom. Zed waited another ten minutes, listening to silence punctuated by nothing more than Flick’s breaths and the rustling of spindly leaves, then took a chance to lever himself up and look around. Whatever it had been, it was gone now. Zed wasn’t sure if he was happy or not that he hadn’t caught a look at the thing.

In the distance, closer than he’d expected, shone lights—the same ones from the night before. He couldn’t make out any details. They’d have to get closer.

He turned back to Flick and grabbed his wrist. Their connection, reassuring and warm, slipped back into place. No point in risking their voices carrying, not when they had this advantage. Their mental communication wasn’t perfectly precise, but they rarely misinterpreted each other.

“You good?” The concern in Flick’s eyes was clear, even in the dim ambient light.

He thought for a minute about what to say, then realized he didn’t have to say anything. Flick felt it all. He squeezed Flick’s fingers and pushed words into his lover’s mind. “Good enough.”

Disbelief crackled across their connection, but Flick didn’t protest. They both knew the longer they went without acting to get off this planet, the worse the situation would become. Still, waiting until it was full dark wasn’t a bad idea. They shared a protein bar and took a couple of sips each from Flick’s canteen, which was down to dregs again.

They really needed to find a comms unit.

When Zed got up to start toward the settlement, Flick followed behind without a word, falling into habits that had been ingrained into them over years of training. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know proper surveillance techniques or incursion formations. He did feel kind of naked without his kit, though, as if he was doing maneuvers in his pajamas.

The settlement abutted the steep mountain that formed the other side of the ravine. A primitive metal fence greeted them on this side, wicked looking with razor wire strung across the top. It was a throwback—any decently funded settlement in need of a barrier would normally opt for a sonic or forcefield version. Beyond the fence sat about two dozen prefab buildings that could have belonged to any colony on any planet. They were utilitarian and completely without any individuality.

Hunkering down behind a boulder that felt slimy with alien moss, Zed reached for Flick, touching the backs of their hands together. If he’d been feeling better, he wouldn’t have hesitated to scale the fence. Getting over razor wire wasn’t fun, but he could do it. Or just phase-shift through the damned thing. Neither was really an option at the moment.

Zed cobbled together his concentration enough to form a mental phrase. “Need to scout.”

“I will.”

Exasperation rose, bringing tension to Zed’s shoulders.

“I will,” Flick repeated, the words paired with concern and the need to protect Zed.

Zed pressed his lips into a thin line. Before he could argue, Flick moved away and melted into the shadows.

Goddamn it!

Teeth gritted, Zed waited in the lea of the boulder, watching the compound. He didn’t see any patrols, which hinted that this wasn’t a paramilitary establishment. That could be good, if they didn’t have a lot of weapons—or bad, if they made up for the lack of weapons in religious zealotry. It wouldn’t be the first colony to succumb to cultlike weirdness. There was no clue either way. Other than the lights over the prefabs’ doors, there was no sign of life at all.

Seconds ticked into minutes that seemed like hours. Finally, just as Zed was starting to think he should try to find Flick, Flick emerged from the darkness. He jerked his head in an invitation to follow him, and Zed didn’t hesitate.

Flick led him along the fence. The night encroached, but when Flick gestured at the metal barrier, Zed could make out why Flick had brought him there. There was a tear, as though something had taken a bite out of the wires. It wasn’t big enough for either of them to squeeze through, though.

“Can we make it bigger?” Zed murmured.

Flick’s eyes narrowed, then grew unfocused. After a moment, he held up his crystalline arm, which now sported something that might be a wire cutter—if Zed looked at it crosswise. Zed scanned their surroundings for threats while Flick worked. A grunt dragged his attention back to Flick, who was struggling to use his makeshift wire cutters. The fence rattled gently as he tugged at the wire. It looked as though he didn’t have enough strength in his crystalline fingers to cleave through the metal. He needed a spring in the joint or some sort of leverage, like real wire cutters had.

Zed laid a hand on Flick’s shoulder. “Worth a shot,” he whispered.

A door on the side of the closest prefab opened with a creak. “Something’s fuckin’ with the fence again,” a male voice called out. Footsteps jogged down the steps.

Zed and Flick scrambled to their feet. Too slow. A man rounded the corner of the building, freezing as he spotted them.

“Hey! Dayne!”

“Run!” Zed spun and, knowing Flick was right there with him, took a step back into the woods.

But froze as a laser carbine fired in front of him, leaving searing heat in its wake.

“Hands where I can see them. Turn real slow toward me.” A new voice, female, and on this side of the fence. Shit. He glanced to his right and saw her approach, the carbine level and at the ready. Zed followed the order she’d given. No way he wanted to mess with that weapon.

“Fuck,” Flick muttered.

“One way to get inside.” Zed allowed his lips to curve into a rueful smile.

The guy who’d first spotted them joined his gun-toting colleague. He clapped a hand on the woman’s shoulder and murmured something—she must be Dayne—then moved in front of Zed and Flick. He pulled out a wallet and activated a light, passing it over the two of them to get a good look. There was no way he could miss their disheveled state—smudges of dirt darkened Flick’s cheek and light hair, and Zed knew he looked about the same. Not to mention the various scratches and bruises they’d picked up.

“You two from that bird that went down a couple days ago?”

Zed pressed his lips together. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Flick do the same.

The man huffed out a half chuckle. “C’mon, guys. I ain’t never seen you before, and it’s not like we get a lot of visitors ’round here.” He nodded at Zed’s bandaged wrist. “You got that seen to all proper?”

Even though the guy’s easygoing manner of speaking nudged Zed to respond, he resisted. He swung his gaze forward, over the guy’s shoulder, and waited.

After a good ninety seconds, the guy cursed softly. His hands, which had been sitting on his hips, dropped to his side and his shoulders slumped a bit. “Well, c’mon then.” He swung a hand out to gesture in the direction of the building he’d come from. “Let’s get on behind the fence and we can have a more friendly-like conversation.”

Zed cast a glance at Flick, but he didn’t see much option other than complying with the guy’s order. He might be able to Zone—but that was a big unknown at this point. And would he be able to move quickly enough to take out the woman standing behind them with the rifle? Maybe. He wasn’t really willing to bet Flick’s life on it, though, which was what he’d be doing. Flick met his gaze and Zed’s eyes darted toward the buildings. With the barest of nods, Flick acknowledged the plan. Such as it was.

There’d come an opportunity to get out. Or maybe this was their ticket to a comms room. Either way, they were heading beyond that fence, like it or not.

* * *

The interior of the settlement had the snapped-together feel of a work camp. The prefabs formed a square around a central pavilion. Felix almost expected the odor of stin and crushed rock dust to waft around the next corner. Tucking unpleasant memories away, he concentrated on making a mental map of his surroundings.

The prefabs on the side they entered from were stacked two high and three deep with a narrow corridor running between. Potential cover if they needed it. Running at a right angle were three rows of long units with fewer windows. Bunkhouses. Judging by the single light on one corner of every prefab, each had its own power. Probably solar cells on the roof of the stack and a battery inside. Given the thick atmosphere of the planet, they would be using auxiliary power generators as well.

“This ain’t a sightseeing tour.” Their escort nudged the back of Felix’s shoulder.

Felix glanced at Zed. Without touching, they couldn’t pass thoughts back and forth, but they’d been together long enough to read one another. He dipped his chin slightly and went back to looking for something useful, like a comms tower. Zed could do the people watching—that was his thing.

They continued through the diagonal passage to the central square. Bright light reflected from the underside of the pavilion, showing off the tight weave of the smart fiber ceiling. Protection against ultraviolet, heat and rain. Radiation and heat would be the worst of it, Felix guessed. He glanced over his shoulder at the prefabs again. Air circulators used a lot of power. No wonder they only had one corner of each building lit.

The light in the square prevented further reconnaissance, the rows of stacked prefabs on the opposite sides nothing but shadows. But Felix could see down the diagonal avenues. One led off into darkness, the other ended at the rocky wall of the ravine. Would there be a path up from there? Or a tunnel through to...The possibility of caves beneath the planet surface left a greasy feeling in his gut. He hadn’t liked tight, dark spaces before his time with the stin. He liked them less now.

He couldn’t see the perimeter fence from the center of the camp. One conclusion he could draw, however, was that the camp, settlement, whatever they wanted to call it, wasn’t big—and besides the laser carbine the woman Dayne carried, he could see no other weapons. He also couldn’t see anything that might be a comms tower.

A handful of people were gathered in the square, their presence casual and incidental. They looked up as Felix and Zed were guided into the light, and an older heavyset man disengaged from the group to approach them.

“What do we have here?”

Felix and Zed were nudged forward. “Found these two lurking outside the fence,” Dayne said.

Another man left the group, his bald head catching the light as he walked toward them. “Check ’em over for weapons and the like?”

“Not yet. Wanted to get them inside first.”

The bald man frisked them quickly and efficiently, relieving them of their packs and the knife from Felix’s boot. Shit and double shit. He turned Felix’s crystalline hand over and back again, eyebrows raised, but didn’t comment. Felix had reformed his fingers into...fingers. He’d also locked the fingers and elbow, hoping the arm might pass as a fried piece-of-shit cybernetic limb. Cybernetics and j-space didn’t mix, and pretending the arm was useless might give him an advantage.

His and Zed’s bracelets also came under scrutiny but were left in place. That, more than anything, spoke of the futility of getting a signal to go anywhere on this planet.

Stepping back, Baldy handed the packs and knife over to the heavyset man before addressing Dayne. “Heard the shot, thought you were running off lopers again.”

Lopers? The name, and the running-off part, suggested lopers were mobile. So, not tentacled and living in fissures. Check. Had that been what they’d heard snuffling around earlier?

“Don’t tell me there’s another hole in my perimeter,” the heavier guy said.

Felix resisted the urge to look at Zed. His perimeter. So this guy claimed ownership of this place.

“We need to run a current through the fence. Scare off lopers and beggars.” Dayne cast a wary eye over Felix and Zed.

“Find me some more generators then,” called a skinny woman from the back of the group.

“Working on it,” someone else grumbled.

The leader looked them over. He frowned as he caught sight of Felix’s left hand. “What’s up with your hand?”

So much for having his arm escape notice. Felix displayed visible effort lifting his stiff arm. “Cybernetic limb, for all the good it is now. It’s fried.”

“Weirdest damn limb I ever saw,” Dayne mumbled.

Felix tucked it back against his side.

“They’re from that bird we saw go down,” said the guy who’d brought them in.

“And they look it.” The leader nodded toward Zed’s bandaged wrist. “More’n two of you?”

Zed shook his head. “No.”

The leader narrowed his eyes a moment, considering, then offered another nod. “Well, I suppose this is the part where I welcome you to Paradise, population one-twenty-five.” They called this shit hole Paradise? “I’m Todd. We can call you one-twenty-six—” he lifted his chin in Zed’s direction, then turned to Felix “—and one-twenty-seven, or you can give us some actual names.”

Silence blanketed the setting. Felix resisted the urge to fidget as he waited for Zed’s lead. Finally, Zed said, “I’m Loop and he’s Fix.”

Dayne scoffed. “One-twenty-six and one-twenty-seven is better names than that.”

“Be nice, Dayne, or I’ll have them bunking with you.”

Bunking?

Felix looked around again. Except for Dayne, no one had a weapon pointed at them, and even their escort’s postures had relaxed since they’d come inside the fence. These people did not see them as a threat.

Apparently noting his attention had strayed, Todd called him back. “It’s not much, I know, but it’s all you boys got now.” He tilted his head. “Unless your ship is salvageable?”

Felix bit his lips together. Zed should be the one to take care of any intel exchange. He was the people person, the covert operator and strategist.

Todd’s gaze drifted to Zed. “Looks like he’s deferring to you, Loop.”

Triple fucking shit. Though did it actually matter if they thought Zed was the leader of their two-man outfit?

“If you’ve the means to lift it from the bottom of the sea,” Zed said, jerking his head back toward the far side of the ravine, “then it might be good for parts.”

Todd smiled. “Listen to the way he talks. You’re a fancy one.” His gaze dropped to his bandaged wrist. “Let’s see if we can get you fixed up, then we can discuss what value you might have to this colony. We’re a small group. Everyone has to pull their weight.”

More people had gathered in the square, emerging from the prefabs and shadows. When Todd called out “Garman!” a tall man stepped forward, ducking under the pavilion, even though the edge was at least half a meter over his head. He was probably used to braining himself against the top of every prefab door.

“Here,” he said.

“Want to take Loop here over to Medical and get his wrist sorted? Can’t put him to work with it all trussed up like that.”

“Sure thing.” Garman gestured toward Zed, but Zed didn’t move.

“C’mon now, I can see you’re in pain,” Todd cajoled.

After glancing at Felix, Zed stepped forward. Felix followed.

“Oh no. Medical ain’t a big place. You’d be much more comfortable here, Fix.” Todd had a grandfatherly smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Dayne poked Felix in the back with the rifle.

Felix risked a quick touch, reaching out to grab Zed’s fingers. Go. Eyes open. I’ll be fine. They didn’t have much choice, but the touch, the message, helped build the illusion of control.

Love you. Zed squeezed his fingers before letting go.

Todd arched a brow. “All right, all right. How ’bout if we feed you while your boyfriend is getting patched up?”

God, this was weird. Even more so now that his stomach had woken to the idea of being fed.

“Andy, take him to the mess and get him a plate of something, will you?”

The guy who’d brought them in—Andy—ducked his head. “On it.”

Zed was led off across the square. Felix would have watched him disappear into the shadows, then he’d likely have watched the darkness for his silhouette to reappear. But Dayne was nudging him with the damn rifle again—in the opposite direction.

Chapter Ten

Actually being given food was the last thing Felix had expected. Maybe he’d read too many holo comics featuring evil villains, or maybe he’d been fooled by the institutions set up to protect and guide humanity—namely, the AEF and Central—too often. But when they’d taken Zed one direction and him another, he’d figured he’d find himself locked in a black hole, his dinner whatever he could scrape off the floor.

He’d eaten worse.

The foodfactor burped and another greasy gray cube crapped onto the plate beneath it.

Damn, he’d eaten better too.

‘Factor food had been all the thing until people realized you pretty much only got out of a 3D printer what you put into it. So, if you wanted something tasty, you had to vary the ingredient blocks. Standard gray nutrition cubes were cheap and easy to transport. Why anyone bothered actually feeding them through the ‘factor was beyond him, though. They tasted about the same either way. Unless you keyed in something like doughnuts. ‘Factor doughnuts were pretty good.

Another cube dropped onto his plate. It hadn’t formed properly, leaving one side gooey and quickly disintegrating into mush. Probably a fault in the timing mechanism. That was always the first part to go. The molds were hard to damage and ‘factors didn’t use much power.

Glancing over at Andy, Felix said, “I could fix this for you.”

Andy’s brows rose. “Yeah?”

Felix felt his brows dip in the opposite direction. Why wasn’t he being cuffed, his offer of help returned with a sneer? “How old is it? Is this the only one you have?”

“It’s the only one we got left. We used to have three.”

“Have you still got the others? I could use them for parts.”

“You seriously think you can fix this thing?”

Felix looked around. “Don’t you have anyone here who works on this kinda stuff?” Maybe the skinny girl who’d called for more power generators. Certainly not Dayne, who stood by the door hefting her rifle.

Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Sure we do, but the ‘factor ain’t totally broke yet. Keeping the fence repaired is our top priority.”

“Because of the lopers.” Another cube of crap hit the plate and Felix picked it up. Four mouthfuls of mush were enough for this road trip. “They don’t have tentacles, do they?”

For the first time, Andy looked truly amused. “Run into some rock scragglers, did ya?”

Felix rubbed his neck. “Yeah.”

“Over here.” Andy nodded toward one of the few unoccupied tables in the mess hall—a double-wide prefab on the south side of the pavilion.

Felix straddled the bench and took the all-in-one utensil Andy offered.

“Scragglers are a menace, but they’re not mobile. It’s the lopers that make a mess of things. They chew through anything. Found one gnawing on the side of a bunkhouse one night. Another nearly ate a power cell.”

Now the perimeter fence made sense.

“So how long have y’all been out here?” Felix stabbed a cube and carved off a slice.

Andy regarded him quietly before answering. “‘Bout eighteen months. Some of us.”

Some of us. So...they had an immigration program?

The slice of ‘factor shit slid down his throat without stopping. Felix swallowed. If he didn’t chew, he could pretend...something. Man, he never used to be a fussy eater. Must be Zed’s influence.

“What are you then, that you can fix a ‘factor?”

“Mechanic.” In simplest terms.

“Yeah? Can’t be easy with only one good arm.”

Ignoring that, Felix asked, “What about you?”

Andy snorted. “What about me?”

“Is guard duty your thing, or do you all have to pitch in around here?” Guard duty seemed to be a common thing, judging by the number of men and women hovering close by. Or maybe they were just curious.

“We all pitch in. This colony is what we make of it.”

Colony. With one word, Andy had confirmed that this was a rogue colony, an illegal settlement on a world Central hadn’t claimed—or at least one that they hadn’t opened up for colonization bids. Though, given their distance from the rest of human space, Felix guessed this hunk of rock just wasn’t on Central’s radar.

Illegal colonies weren’t common. There just weren’t enough planets capable of sustaining human life—and, in Felix’s humble opinion, Paradise barely qualified. But when a survey team did find a planet that might host a useful colony, Central sent out a request for colonization bids. The group that needed the least amount of help, or promised to provide the most return on investment, usually won it. Sometimes there were other politics to get through, high-level interests to be taken into account, but that was the normal process of setting up a settlement.

Once in a while, Central missed a habitable planet. Maybe it was too far away from the rest of humanity’s space, like this one, or maybe there just weren’t any viable resources to be found on the surface. In either case, what Central skipped over, pioneers set out to conquer. It was a difficult life, getting along with only the resources planetside or whatever bare bit of help they could scrape from less-than-scrupulous traders. If they were discovered by Central or the AEF, they were looking at severe punishments, up to and including life in prison for any number of offenses. Too often the colonies went dark with no one to mark their passing.

This place, though...There was something off about the whole setup. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the data trail ended here. Thing was, if these colonists knew anything about Project Dreamweaver, they’d have recognized Zed. No one had.

But none of the colonists had seemed all that surprised by their visit, either. They were wary, but curious. All except Dayne who continued to guard the door.

* * *

A shudder of relief coursed through Zed as he entered the mess hall and spotted Flick immediately. He sat at one of the picnic-style tables and, although he was scowling at Dayne, some of the tension in his face melted away as he saw Zed, then flooded back in as he noted the exhaustion Zed must have carried in his own expression.

His wrist might not hurt for the moment—the doctor had taken his advice about needing a substantial dose of anything and numbed him so thoroughly Zed wasn’t even sure he had a hand anymore—but he was tired. Beyond tired. Somehow the fact that his wrist had been properly treated, with a good dose of Mendo and cradled in a plasmix brace, made everything else wrong with him hurt that much more. A headache had crept in and all he really wanted was to be horizontal.

Though he wouldn’t turn down food, if they offered.

Zed slipped onto the bench beside Flick, nudging his shoulder. Hindered by their clothes, the brush wasn’t enough to let their connection click into place, but the physical contact felt good anyway.

“You okay?” Flick whispered.

Zed held up his braced wrist. “All good. Set and Mendo’d.”

A shaky breath escaped Flick, barely audible. “Good. Did he check out your head too?”

“Mild concussion, like we thought. Nothing to worry about.” Zed eyed the gray cubes on the plate in front of Flick. “‘Factor food?”

“Yeah.” Flick poked at one of the cubes with his utensil, keeping his left arm still to maintain the ruse of it being useless. He didn’t look thrilled at the meal, but a colony like this one—that didn’t seem to be agricultural-based—couldn’t be expected to serve up anything but ‘factored sustenance. “Not my favorite but it’s warm.”

Zed grunted. Warm was good. It felt like forever since he’d had a full stomach, let alone one with warmth in it.

“Want some coffee?” one of the colonists—Andy?—offered.

“No,” Zed said quickly, then added, “thank you.”

Beside him, Flick chuckled. Yeah, yeah, his aversion to caffeine was so amusing. He’d like to see what Flick would do with an unflagging erection and increased horniness when he could take care of neither.

Someone brought over another plate for Zed. Even though it looked no more appetizing than Flick’s meal, Zed dug into it. Worries about the food being drugged flashed through his mind, but he quickly shoved them aside. They wouldn’t go through the trouble and expense of repairing his wrist if they intended to drug them senseless. Mendo wasn’t cheap and, if this was an illegal colony, refilling their stores wouldn’t be an easy thing. The cubes were bland but warm, like Flick had said. It’d do.

Todd entered the mess, flanked by a few more colonists. Deep lines etched furrows on either side of his mouth and more had taken up residence across his brow. He looked less congenial than he had earlier.

Flick pushed away his plate and looked up at the leader of the colony. “What are you going to do with us?”

There was more movement over near the door. Zed looked up—then jumped to his feet, dragging Flick to his and shoving him behind his back, ignoring his lover’s protests.

“Hello, Major,” said Dr. Carlisle Preston, smiling.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Something must have leaked over their connection, some sense of the threat facing them, because Flick tried to get past him. Zed shoved his good arm out to prevent it. God, he wanted Preston nowhere near Flick. Ever.

“Carly,” Zed growled. Predictably, the good doctor frowned. She hated that nickname, which was why he used it.

Dr. Carlisle Preston had been the lead medical specialist for Project Dreamweaver. She’d been the one to determine when to dose them with the stin venom, how much and for how long. She’d monitored them, put them through untold tests. Every single man and woman on his team had come to hate her and her cold, unfeeling approach to their suffering. Yes, they were all volunteers, but she’d treated them like fucking lab rats.

Zed had even more reason to hate her, though. The last time he’d seen her, she was employed by an AEF admiral to mitigate his pain resistance so they could interrogate him. She’d stabbed him, then dosed him with stin venom. Combining pain with the poison made his hallucinogenic trip even more intense and awful. And it had all been for nothing. The AEF gave up on questioning him. The admiral in charge decided he was far more interested in making Zed simply disappear—a plan that had been thwarted by Flick and the Guardians.

But none of that explained why Preston was here now, looking pretty much the same as she had on the AEF military intelligence flagship—caramel hair pulled back into curls cascading down her back that made her look far less dangerous than she was. Unless—

“Fuck.” Zed sagged. “This isn’t an illegal colony.”

“Technically, it is,” Preston said with a shrug.

“Who the fuck is she?” Flick hissed from behind him.

“She’s from the project,” Zed said. “She was the doctor—”

“This is Preston? You fucker!” Flick dodged Zed’s outstretched arm, only to be brought up short by a wall of bodies. He clawed at them, forgetting to keep his left arm still, trying to get through. “Do you know what she did to him? She fucking tortured him! You fucking bitch!”

“Flick! Felix!” Zed yelled. No point in worrying about names now. “Stand down!”

“Fuck that!” Flick cocked a fist back, ready to let loose.

“Goddamn it, we’re still outnumbered here! Stand down!”

Flick swung, but the colonist dodged. Another jumped in, throwing a punch that connected with Flick’s cheek hard enough to make him stop and blink. Zed started forward, determined to get to his lover, but someone grabbed his bad arm, making him hiss in pain. He jerked his wrist out of the grasp—ow—and stepped forward, just as Flick took another hard hit to the head. This time he stumbled, falling back a few steps, but he didn’t go down.

“Felix, stop.”

Flick turned to him, blinking, clearly trying to focus. “She hurt you.”

“Yeah, and she’s gonna hurt you if you keep this up, stupid.”

Flick narrowed his eyes. A male colonist grabbed his shoulder and encouraged Flick to take a seat on one of the nearby benches. Zed joined him, both to keep him out of trouble and to make sure he was okay. A quick visual inspection revealed a couple of bruises already forming, but no blood. He’d avoided getting punched in the nose for once.

“Are you done?” Preston asked, her voice cool.

“For now,” Flick shot back.

“Good.” She smiled and, wonder of wonders, the expression actually reached her eyes, warming them. “Because I’d like to talk to you about Project Dreamcatcher.”

Chapter Eleven

What the fuck was Project Dreamcatcher?

Zed put a pin in that thought for the moment, lacking the energy to parse it out. Instead, he reached for Flick’s hand. He didn’t need to touch him to understand the rage that thrummed through him—it was all but palpable—but he wanted to offer some wordless comfort, calm him down some. He wasn’t surprised when Flick avoided his touch and tucked his hand between his knees.

He got it. Sometimes you just didn’t want to be calmed down.

Shrugging it off, Zed turned back to Preston and lifted his chin. “Project Dreamweaver has been disavowed. There is nothing to talk about.”

“Dreamweaver might be done, but Dreamcatcher is well underway. You’ve met one of my soldiers and you are in a unique position to help his team.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Preston’s smile softened. “Because you couldn’t save any of your teammates. But I’m prepared to give you another chance.”

Tension rippled through Zed like a wave, rocking him back and forward again. Goddamn Preston and her fucking mind games. She knew how to manipulate soldiers like no one else he’d met, always knowing their weaknesses and just what to say to get them to agree to what she wanted. Zed had seen her in action during the project. It sickened him that, at the time, he was grateful for her ability to read his teammates and poke them to the right conclusion—failing out of Dreamweaver wasn’t an option. Not a healthy one, anyway.

“Fuck you.” Zed leaned back and folded his arms. Not the most eloquent answer, but heartfelt.

Preston tilted her head. “You were so much more polite when you were a part of the AEF, Zander.”

“And you haven’t changed a bit, Carly.”

The spark returned to Preston’s eyes. “No, I haven’t. I still believe in this project and its value to humanity.”

“Value? You’re killing people trying to make something that shouldn’t exist.” At Flick’s words, Zed reached out again but Flick wormed his shoulder away from Zed’s fingers and raised his hands. “I’m finished throwing punches, but I’m not going to sit by and listen to this madwoman try to justify what she’s doing to the men and women she’s supposed to value.”

Moving in, Preston caught his hand, the crystal one, her eyes wide, expression hungry. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It’s cybernetic and dead,” Flick said, trying to pull his hand from her grasp.

“You’re a worse liar than your lover, Mr. Ingesson.”

Fuck. Zed clenched his jaw. He’d hoped Preston hadn’t realized who Flick was, but he was hardly anonymous. He’d starred in a number of holos when reporters had gotten too close to Zed. Not to mention the news about his arm—though if she’d seen those holos, she wouldn’t be asking about it. That raised the question of the amount of time Preston had been on Paradise. How long had this new project of hers been operating?

“How did you come by this?”

Enough. Zed pushed himself between Preston and Flick, nudging her back. Her coterie of guards pressed forward, but she lifted her hands. “There’s no need for violence. I asked a simple question.”

Zed glowered. “You do not touch him, do you understand?”

“Aw, you’re so protective.”

“Should have seen them holding hands earlier,” Dayne put in with a smirk.

Zed sat down next to Flick and took his hand, not letting him pull away this time. He needed the connection with Flick, and he suspected Flick needed it too—a suspicion that was confirmed when Flick pressed against his side. Zed could almost feel Flick absorbing his strength, his purpose, his nearly shredded calm. Then Flick’s rage skittered across, transformed into energy and focus. It helped. It didn’t ease the aches over most of his body or give him much of a second wind, but it helped.

He couldn’t prevent the fear he felt from trickling across to Flick—but, somehow, when he felt an answering tendril, that helped too.

“There’s a reason you’re here,” Preston said. “Alive and well, fully functional. You’re what we dreamed of, Zander. The perfect soldier.”

Zed couldn’t deny he was a soldier. That was for life. But like hell he was going to throw in with Preston’s craziness. “I am no longer a part of the AEF. And neither are you.”

“That’s why we’ll get it right this time.” Preston smiled.

“Looks to me like you already did.”

“Not yet. My new team is more stable than yours ever was, but they’re still going to succumb to the effects of the stin poison in time. That is why your data is so important to us. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“If you have the data, why do you need me?”

Preston clucked her tongue. “I would have thought that was obvious. I need you to train these soldiers. Mason managed to evade you on Chloris, but the rest of them? They’re not heroes, not yet. Just think, your own team again. Men and women like you.”

Zed shoved aside the momentary flicker of want at that thought and shook his head. “I want no part in it.”

“You don’t have a choice. You’re here and here you will stay.”

“You don’t think Central will wonder where the emissary got to?” Or that the Guardians wouldn’t? Zed didn’t think he needed to add that part. It should be obvious.

“The galaxy is a big place and mostly unexplored. People disappear all the time.”

But his family had already lost their youngest son once. They weren’t likely to let it happen again, even if they had to hire every merc and treasure hunter to turn over every last rock on every last fucking planet, explored or not.

“Now, I think it’s time you got some rest. You’re no good to me with a concussion, and your wrist needs time to set. Tomorrow is an important day.” Preston smiled her horribly warm smile, then gestured at Andy and Dayne. “See that our guests are made comfortable.”

Letting go of Flick’s hand, Zed rose to his feet. “You might as well find your deepest, darkest hole and put me there now. I will not be helping you.” If he hadn’t been so exhausted, he might have bitten back the words—they sounded almost like a dare.

“Oh, I think I can change your mind.”

Todd, face flustered and red, stepped forward. “Wait just a goddamned minute. He said he didn’t wanna—”

Preston turned to the colony leader. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten our agreement, Mr. Todd.”

Todd held her gaze, his face growing redder as he clearly fought with himself. “No,” he said finally. “I haven’t.”

“Excellent.” Preston nodded toward Andy. “Take Mr. Ingesson down to my laboratory. I think he’ll be very comfortable in the holding facilities I have there.” She turned to address Zed. “Did you know the resonance substance deteriorates after a while?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The communication shards the resonance gifted us with. They stop working after a while, don’t they?”

The resonance had provided a set of small shards to each species in order to facilitate communication. After two months, the mental signal had weakened to the point where the shards no longer worked reliably. By then, other means of communication were being tested. Visual codes based on mathematics that could be sent back and forth using the existing relay point network. But the crystal shards remained the fastest, clearest and most reliable method of talking with the wholly telepathic aliens. The resonance had agreed to replace the shards every eight weeks, offering fresh ones to be distributed from the Hub.

Zed gave the barest nod in response to Preston’s observation.

She tipped her head toward Flick. “That makes Felix here very, very important to my research. His arm is alive and will remain so while it is attached to his body. The perfect source of living resonance substance.” Her warm smile finally vanished, leaving a cold and calculating expression in its wake. “So I’ll be keeping him in that deep, dark hole you suggested until you realize our arrangement is mutually beneficial.”

* * *

They took him to a deep dark hole. Led him toward the rear of the settlement and into a fucking cave at the base of the cliff. Felix tried giving Andy a betrayed look. They’d bonded over ‘factor cubes and mechanical failure, hadn’t they? Ignoring him, Andy kept a tight grip on Felix’s right arm. Another colonist held his left just as firmly. Together, they all but dragged him out of the mess, past a yelling Zed. Felix gave only a token struggle. His head hurt. Beyond that, he knew riling up Zed would likely get them both killed. Zed couldn’t possibly Zone again in his condition.

The ache in his head—a combination of barely repressed rage and two fists to the face—made mapping his passage into the caves difficult. He tried to keep track of the turns, but lost his bearings after the first few. The darkness between each striplight clawed at him and the tunnels wandered and diverged chaotically, the only sign of excavation the occasional scraped ceiling or wall where the way had been widened. Now and again, an opening in the wall was sealed by a hatch set into the stone. Felix mused over the manner in which the doors had been installed. If he was locked behind one of them, could he hack it? Or could he scrape away at the sealant to either side?

His escort paused in front of another hatch and unlocked it...with a key. Damn it. Though, with power being at a premium, they probably saved most of it for essential functions. Felix had plenty of experience picking locks. Give him the proper motivation, and enough time, and he could get through just about anything. Motivation wasn’t going to be an issue. Felix hated being locked up. And time...

“There’s no light.” The awful observation left him in a whisper.

“It’s just for tonight,” Andy said.

“No, you can’t leave me here in the dark.”

“Don’t worry, the door locks tight. Bogeyman ain’t gonna get ya.”

“You don’t understand. I...The dark...” Felix searched the blackness for anything he might have missed. A source of light so dim it only became apparent after a while. He found nothing. He turned back to Andy and swallowed. A part of him wanted to beg. A greater part urged him to fight, to put Andy and his fellow guard down. Flee. Find Zed. Escape this fucking madness.

He leaned forward and the other guard pushed him back, crowding the doorway and barring escape. Felix drew on his rage and readied his fists.

Silhouetted by the meager light in the tunnel, Andy shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. You seem like a good enough guy and I can’t say as Dr. Preston’s little army makes me comfortable. But this is my home and she’s got the resources we need to keep this place going. So I will hurt you if you try anything stupid.”

Something in Andy’s tone touched Felix—hit the interrupt on his rage and tossed him into reflection. It was the reasonableness of Andy’s statement, though how anyone could reasonably defend Preston was beyond him. But Andy probably didn’t know the full extent of what Preston was doing. His blissful ignorance might be purposeful, but Felix got that too. Because he understood the underlying plea his jailor had just made. This godawful planet was Andy’s home, and for some, that meant everything.

Wouldn’t Felix have fought for his home if he could?

The other guard pushed him into the room and tossed something on the floor as the door began to swing shut. “Night night.”

The door closed with a clang. The sound of the lock engaging scraped the silence seconds later. Batting at his left wrist, Felix activated his bracelet. A small holo threw a shallow pool of light into the dark space. It wasn’t enough. He needed a light by the back wall so he knew how far away it was. He needed to know the blackness wasn’t complete, that it wouldn’t choke him.

He looked at the door. Shit and all the shit. He needed a door that locked from the inside. Not this pitted expanse of metal with no hinges and no handle. Curling the fingers of his right hand into a fist, Felix made to punch the door...and stopped. Breaking his hand wouldn’t help. He needed to think his way out of the darkness.

His back itched. His head ached. His heart plodded along in his chest, every beat a call to his missing other half. What was Preston doing with Zed? To Zed? She wouldn’t cut him up, would she? Turn him into a lab rat?

No, stupid. She’s going to cut you up.

Felix gripped his left wrist—ran his fingers up to the cuff of his sleeve, pushing the fabric back as he caressed his crystalline skin.

There was no fucking way she was taking his arm.

His boot nudged something on the floor. Felix jumped back, his yell echoing inside the dark chamber. Then he remembered the other guard tossing something down. It had looked like a pouch. Rations? Water? Bending down, he swept the light of his holo display across the bare rock until he found it. Looked like a water pouch. He found a tab at the corner and pressed it. The flexible material extruded a small spout. Felix drank. Tasted weird, but the only thing worse than being stuck in a hole in the ground was being thirsty. He’d know. Stin had never given them enough water.

Man, he was tired.

After a few sips, Felix resealed the pouch and tucked it into a pocket of his utility pants. Then he explored the outline of the door. It hadn’t suddenly grown a hinge or an internal mechanism. Would Zed be able to pass through it? It couldn’t be any thicker than the cargo door of the Chaos, but shifting through that had messed Zed up for a while. And, right now, Zed was probably hurting more than he was. More tired too. Sighing, Felix rested his forehead against the metal. Maybe if he stayed here, his bracelet shining up into his face...

The lack of light behind him pressed at his back. Felix turned and sank to the floor, pushing his itching back into the door. He drew his knees up and rested his left arm across the top so that the holo display was between him and the rest of the cell.

Baldy had only taken anything they might use as a weapon. Not bracelets or wallets. Felix looked at the holographic comms button. If he tried to contact Zed, what was the worst that could happen? He’d almost welcome the oblivion of another beating. One more knock to the head would be enough to send him down. Preston needed both of them alive and well, though, and opening the doors to their cells, either to punish them or just take their wallets away, offered another opportunity for escape. If he were Preston, he wouldn’t risk it.

Felix tapped the button. “Zed?”

Endless seconds passed before the connection hissed and Zed whispered in reply, “Flick?”

All the aches and pains in his body joined forces with all the banked anger and frustration, forming a lump that blocked his throat. Felix swallowed furiously—once, twice—trying to clear the obstruction. His voice sounded strained when he found it again, but the only word he could summon was “Zed.”

He didn’t want to name his terrors, he didn’t want to circle his fear. He wanted to tell Zed he loved him, but worried the declaration would precipitate some sort of end. Choking on distress, he wished he’d said yes to Zed’s proposal of marriage the very second he’d asked. Yes, yes, yes.

Maybe Zed would have turned the ship around and...

“Flick, are you there? Talk to me.” Scuffling filled the transmission. “I’m going to try my door.”

“Locked,” Felix managed, though his tongue remained glued to the roof of his mouth.

“Might be able to shift through it. Keep talking, let me know you’re okay. Did they hurt you?”

“No, don’t try the door. I’m good. Just in a hole. I’ll be fine. You’re too—” An aborted shout and thump interrupted him. “Zed!” More of those fucking endless seconds ticked by. “Zed!”

“‘M here.”

“Are you all right?”

“Tried to shift, but I can’t. I’m sorry, I’ll try again soon. Maybe if I rest—”

Felix could picture Zed leaning against the door of his cell—or wherever Preston had put him—forehead creased with pain, shoulders drawn up stiffly, lips moving over needless apologies. “Stop. Don’t do this, just stop. You’re going to fuck yourself up more if you try again. Just...just sleep. We’ll both sleep and tomorrow we’ll figure something out.”

Everything always looked better in the morning.

“Tomorrow I’ll get you out of here. I promise. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. I love you.” It was okay to say it now. Not quite as final. Maybe.

Chapter Twelve

The door swung outward and Felix fell backward, dazed by the sudden awakening and the light in the tunnel. Surely night hadn’t already passed? He’d only just closed his eyes. He attempted to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and managed a vague mumble. His breath tasted awful.

“Get up.” Not Andy’s voice.

Squinting, Felix rolled over and pushed to his knees. He instinctively batted away the hands reaching for him, not caring if they meant to help him up or simply drag him someplace more terrible than his cell. His will to fight rose sluggishly, hampered by a lingering ache along his jaw and up across the top of his skull. In fact, he hurt all over, and had the feeling he’d been fending off nightmares. He also recognized the sick swirl in his gut. The weird emptiness that was more than just hunger. He’d been drugged. The odd-tasting water had been laced with something.

Someone grabbed his arms and hauled him upright. Felix looked at his new guards without recognizing either of them. “Is it breakfast time?” He knew it wasn’t, but asking where they were going would be disingenuous. “I could really use a leak first.” Anxiety kept pushing useless questions forward. “What time is it?”

Silently, the guards continued to drag him forward. Felix’s feet finally woke up after ten meters or so. Walking would save his boots—because he’d be needing his boots, right? After Preston finished—

He wasn’t any more awake or alert than he’d been last night, but being dragged toward his doom helped him grab hold of his rage and use it. Felix dropped to his knees, hoping to pull his guards off balance. The guy on his right barely grunted. The one on his left huffed and squeezed his arm a little tighter. Rocking backward, Felix tried to tug his arms free. His guards pulled him forward again. He kicked out in an attempt to hook his foot behind the knee of the guy on the right. Might as well have kicked a tree for all the reaction he got. Felix continued to struggle, despite the obvious futility, until his guards’ silent and impenetrable will suddenly made sense. They were Preston’s soldiers and they were Zoning. Super strong, less than communicative and dedicated to their purpose, they were focused on their mission objective: get him to the lab.

Fuck.

Felix let his fear take him for a minute. Losing his shit in a dim hallway would be less embarrassing than doing it in front of Preston. He swore and bucked and kicked. Tried every trick in his collection. Then his exhausted body betrayed him, sagging under its own weight, arms and legs all loose and floppy and achy, the pounding in his head like the roar of an attitude thruster.

They pulled him through an open hatch into a brighter space, and Felix immediately regretted having wasted so much energy. Blinking against the harsh lighting, he tried to take stock of his surroundings. They’d brought him to Preston’s lair, that much was clear. Stark and functional, the space resembled one of the workrooms back at the asteroid—except for the clear plasmix wall running down the center. The opposite side looked familiar too: it was set up like an operating theater. A wall of equipment, auto-docs, monitors and trays of standard tools. In the middle were two beds and one victim. Well, Felix considered the woman strapped to one of the tethered floats a victim. She might think differently.

Preston stood on this side, suited up in white, hands encased in weird, shiny gloves. “Strip him and put him through the decon scan.”

Why did he need to be stripped? She was only interested in his arm, wasn’t she? Felix pulled against the tight hold of the guards. “Look, just take a finger or something. You don’t need to put me in there.” What the fuck was he saying? “Where’s Zed? Is he here? Is he coming? What have you done with him?”

She hadn’t already taken him apart, had she? No. No—he needed to stop thinking that. Preston needed Zed alive and well. She wanted him to train her army, right?

Preston didn’t answer any of his questions. Exhausted, Felix put up only a token struggle as he was dragged toward the decon unit in the corner. There, one of the guards held his arms up while the other pulled his boots and pants off. Felix managed to get a couple of head kicks in before they switched places, one guard holding him by the waist while the other pulled his shirt over his head.

Naked, Felix felt more vulnerable—particularly with his new arm fully exposed. Preston seemed more interested in the scars crisscrossing his torso, marking his legs and circling his ankles and right wrist.

“The stin really are a rather barbaric people,” she murmured.

“Like you’re any better. Experimenting on your own kind? You’re a fucking monster.” Felix tried to spit, but his mouth was so dry he produced little more than a tsking sound.

His guards thrust him into the scan unit and activated it. Sonic waves scoured the dirt from his body, and an astringent mist killed anything alien on his person. It was almost as unpleasant as a chemical wash station, except he emerged with hair.

They handed him a thin pair of pants and gave him approximately one second to pull them up over his legs before dragging him toward the door in the clear partition. Surely all this manhandling messed with the decon scan. Preston held out a laser scalpel and Felix wilted. Couldn’t she have drugged him or something? Saved him some struggle and the indignity of being stripped and examined? He cast a longing look at his crumpled utility pants. He still had most of that pouch of funny-tasting water tucked in one of the pockets.

“Tell me if this hurts.” Preston activated the scalpel.

Oh for the love of...He wasn’t Zed. There was no way he could pretend the touch of a laser scalpel didn’t hurt. “It’ll hurt!” he yelled. “It’s like a regular arm that way. It’ll hurt.” He glanced at the woman lying strapped to the other float. Did Preston prod and poke all her people with laser scalpels?

Smiling, Preston flicked off the scalpel and tucked it into her belt and pulled out a hypo. “Can’t have you thrashing about while I explore this marvel.”

Explore?

“Please don’t do this. It’s wrong.” Felix turned to appeal to the men holding him. “Can’t you see this is wrong? Hasn’t she already put you through enough?”

The expression of one of his guards might have flickered—or the light in the lab might have wavered briefly. The other had the beginnings of a familiar crease between his brows. Either way, it was like talking to a wall. Preston pressed the hypo to his neck and triggered it. “I can’t promise this procedure won’t hurt, but you can rest assured I will do everything to make you comfortable. You’re a very important component of this program, Felix.”

“Fuck you.”

The world spun and danced away.

* * *

Zed stared at the men and women lined up before him in the makeshift gym carved out of one of the larger caverns under the cliff. Training people was something he usually enjoyed doing, watching their confusion lift as they grasped a concept or seeing their eyes light up with success.

Right now, he couldn’t give a fuck if the people in front of him got what he was showing them or not.

After waking up with a mild headache and a fuzzy mouth on the cell floor, it hadn’t taken Zed long to figure out he’d been drugged. He’d had a couple of sips of water from a pouch as he spoke with Flick—but he couldn’t remember falling asleep. He should’ve known Preston would enforce her “rest” command.

So now he was stuck teaching a group of ten ragtag wannabe soldiers. A handful of them might have been former AEF—they had the stance of guys who’d been through combat, but for all Zed knew, they might have been from colonies that had seen battles during the war. The others, though—Christ, where did Preston find them? They were so fucking young. He’d bet nearly anything that four of them were university students or recent grads. They had that wide-eyed must-learn-everything look that privileged kids fresh from education often had. The other three—he had no doubt they were station rats. They weren’t any older than the university crew, but their eyes held anything but innocence. These would be Preston’s unseen soldiers—the ones who got in, did the dirty work and got out, before anyone even knew they were there.

Hell of a life.

Dwelling on what these kids were and weren’t was just a way for him to distract himself from the fact that he hadn’t seen a hint of Flick. When he’d asked about him, he’d been told to teach for an hour, then his guards would take him to Flick.

It had been an hour and a half.

Assholes. Zed walked around the floor, eyeing the kids as they sparred with each other. He looked like he was engaged—but he wasn’t, not fully. Plans for escape flowed through his mind, along with an inventory of weapons and potential enemies. There was an arms locker at the rear of the training room, but with the doors closed, he couldn’t see inside. What was the likelihood of Preston keeping larger weapons that weren’t bio-locked? Her guards only carried stunners. It was possible she refused to equip them with anything more deadly so that they’d go to their training first. The soldiers, themselves, were to be weapons, after all.

As for enemies, he wasn’t sure if he could count every colonist in that column or not, but the men and women he was training definitely were. Even so, the plans couldn’t develop very far without one key piece of data.

Where was Flick? And what shape was he in?

“Again!” Zed barked. He didn’t care that his “students” dripped with sweat. He’d work them until they took him to Flick—or the kids passed out, whichever came first.

Of the ten men and women in front of him, only five could Zone—two of the soldiers, one of the university crew and two of the station rats. Maybe Preston was applying her poison in stages. Whatever the case, Zed hoped like hell that the kids who couldn’t Zone yet were watching the ones who could and seeing the signs of destabilization. The rapid blinking as they struggled to hold the Zone, the permanently etched furrows in their foreheads.

Please, God, let them have second thoughts.

One of the station rats—a girl whose arms and legs looked more like twigs than actual limbs—staggered, bumping into one of the maybe-AEF guys, one who showed no signs of being able to Zone. He caught and steadied her, then shot a glare at Zed. “You want to ease up?” he growled.

Zed stepped into the group, right up into the guy’s space. He was about an inch taller than Zed, his shoulders nearly as wide, but Zed had almost a decade on him, if the baby face was any indication. “You got something to say to me?”

Baby Face stared straight ahead—definitely former AEF. “I—I just—”

“Why are you here?” Zed demanded.

The guy opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, “To make a difference, sir!”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you stay in the AEF?”

“I...” Baby Face’s eyes flicked to Zed’s, then straight again, and it was clear he didn’t have a good answer.

Zed turned to one of the university crew, a guy whose squint proclaimed he needed vision surgery or glasses. “How about you? Why are you here?”

He swallowed and fidgeted. “Dr. Preston promised to pay my tuition—like the AEF does if you enlist at eighteen. ’Cept the AEF wouldn’t take me and...” He shrugged.

Jesus Christ. Zed pointed to the station rat who’d stumbled earlier. “And you?”

She grinned, showing off one of her crooked and broken front teeth. “The money’s awesome.”

Baby Face’s shoulders stiffened. “Dr. Preston has a vision—”

“Dr. Preston is fucking sick.” Zed grabbed Baby Face’s wrist and guided the man’s fingers to the back of his neck. He didn’t like being touched there, but he wanted to prove a point. Baby Face sucked in a breath as he felt the puckered scars from the stin talons that had injected Zed with venom over and over again.

“Feel that? A stin POW grabbed me by the neck and injected his venom. Four times. Preston arranged it. Fuck, we all signed up for it. We wanted it, we wanted to make a difference, just like you. But it killed my team.” He looked pointedly at the trainees who could Zone. “And it’s going to—”

“That’s enough, Major.”

Zed glanced over his shoulder. “Scared of the truth?”

Preston smiled at him, cold and calculating, and leaned against the doorframe. “The truth is that the AEF doesn’t know what to do with itself, and you’re well aware of that fact. Even Central doesn’t know what actions to take in a galaxy that isn’t at war. We need to be prepared for the inevitable future.”

“War isn’t inevitable.”

“Come now, Zander. You can’t possibly be that naïve.” She waved a hand at the students. “Go shower. We’ll have lunch soon.”

The students filed out of the chamber, with Baby Face bringing up the rear. He looked as if he wanted to say something to Zed—to curse him out, maybe, now that the all-powerful Preston was in attendance—but after a short hesitation, he continued on.

“War is the one constant in humanity’s existence,” Preston said after Baby Face had disappeared into the hall. “You can’t argue that.”

Zed clenched his jaw. “Maybe,” he agreed reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t change.”

Preston snorted, a surprisingly elegant sound. “The best predictor of future action is past action. Humanity will go to war again—with itself, or with the stin. Perhaps even the resonance or the ashushk...though the latter is not likely, I admit,” she amended with a shrug. “But war will happen. I intend to be in a position to capitalize on it.”

Zed froze. “This is about money?”

Preston stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You should see your face. Yes, of course it’s about money. Did you think I was doing this for some altruistic purpose? Really, Zander, after all these years?” She shook her head, still chuckling. “The intellectual and scientific challenge of perfecting the Dreamweaver formula and training—molding it into Dreamcatcher—is fulfilling, yes. But my primary goal is the mountains of credits I’ll be able to name for allowing the AEF to borrow my soldiers. Or, if the AEF won’t pay, others will, I’m sure.”

Holy shit. If this operation had been headed by anyone else, Zed wouldn’t have been surprised that money was the motivation. But he’d assumed Preston was doing it simply for the bragging rights of being able to say she was the one who’d made it work for humanity.

The idea of Preston being in charge of an army—even a small one—and selling them to the highest bidder was chilling. She didn’t care about right and wrong. She wouldn’t give a shit if any of these kids died while on assignment—except for the fact that it would cost her time and money to replace them. And what if the people Preston sold their services to were the ones who wanted to see war come to the galaxy again?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Zed breathed.

Preston pushed off the wall and gestured for Zed to join her. “Come, Felix is just about to come around. He’ll want to see you.”

Cold flashed through him. “What do you mean, ‘come around’?”

“I wouldn’t operate on him while he was aware, Zander.” Preston smiled. “There are limits to what I want to experience. Besides, when you hear one man scream himself hoarse, you’ve heard them all.”

Numb with the idea that he hadn’t protected Flick at all, Zed allowed Preston to lead him deeper into her complex. He kept track of the turns to try to maintain a mental map in preparation for their eventual escape, and compiled a list of all the things they’d need to survive on this rock until rescue—not the least of which was some way of getting a message to the Chaos or his brothers. But all the planning and thinking in the galaxy wouldn’t help until he had all the relevant data about Flick’s condition. They had to get out of here—there was literally no other option. Eventually, one or both of them would outlive their usefulness, and then...

After all the shit they’d been through—both together and during the war—they deserved more than dying in this fucking hellhole of a planet with a she-devil playing with them. Once she brought him to Flick, Zed would have a better idea of what actions to take. Zed flexed his broken wrist, trying to get a sense of how well the Mendo had set. It was vaguely achy, but no longer sore. The enforced rest overnight had been good for his head too. He felt...better. Not one hundred percent, but better.

Good.

“Where are you holding him?” Zed asked, keeping his voice subdued. As though the thought of Flick being operated on had broken him. Too close to the truth.

“You’d be surprised by the amount of useable space we have under this mountain.”

Yeah, he could see that. Preston didn’t volunteer anything more as they made their way through a series of winding tunnels, some lit, some not. He spotted a comm unit set into the wall, similar to the shipboard communications on the Chaos, and a plan started to form. Classic. Simple.

Please let Flick be mostly coherent. And mobile.

They passed a large operating theater, then moved into an adjacent room with one hospital bed and one chair. A couple of colonists—a guard and a nurse—puttered around the room, monitoring readouts. Flick lay on the bed, shirtless, his left shoulder wrapped in bandages. Had Preston been exploring the connection between crystal and tissue? Flick’s eyes were heavy, and he was obviously groggy, but awake. Sort of. The sort of vanished as Flick spotted Preston. His eyes widened and he struggled to sit up, scramble away.

Zed darted forward. Preston let him go, obviously thinking he was going to comfort Flick. And he was. Just not the way she was thinking.

“Shh, I’m here.” He grabbed Flick’s wrist, sighing inaudibly as their connection reestablished itself. Thank God. Whatever she’d done to him, it hadn’t damaged that.

“You okay?” Flick’s voice was rough and his eyes kept darting from Zed to Preston and back, but he was lucid.

“Was about to ask the same of you.” Leaning over Flick, Zed eyed his crystalline arm. Below the bandage, it looked intact, though the hand seemed off. Misshapen. He tilted his head to get a better look—and sucked in a breath.

“What?” Flick frowned at the bandage wrapping his shoulder, then looked lower and growled. “She took my fucking pinky finger!”

Zed couldn’t stop the rage that cascaded from him to Flick. Flick’s eyes widened—yeah, Zed normally had a better control on his emotions than that, but damn it. Flick had worked fucking hard for that arm, concentrating for ten straight hours to grow it from a seed the resonance had given him in gratitude. For Preston to take even a sliver of it—

He wanted to kill her.

But first, they had to get out of here. Regroup. Plan.

Zed took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Distraction,” he sent across their link. “Be ready.”

Flick nodded. No hesitation. No questions. God, he was such a perfect partner, in everything.

Zed leaned close, as though he was sharing some intimate words with his lover, but instead focused on his Guardian cuff. With the weirdness of the atmosphere, he hadn’t tried to send a signal off-planet—he wasn’t even sure the cuff could reach that far. He’d once hijacked comms for a wide radius near Hemera Station at the Hub—a few hundred thousand kilometers—but even triple that wouldn’t get him to the nearest shipping lane, and there were no other colonies in this system. He could try calling in the Guardians, but that was a bit like launching a nuclear bomb to take out a single spider.

Besides, he wasn’t sure if they’d transport Flick—or even if they’d welcome Zed aboard one of their ships while he was awake and aware.

At any rate, his plan didn’t need off-planet comms to work. On-planet ones would do just fine. Making sure his cuff was hidden from Preston’s view, he accessed its wide-range comms capabilities.

Instantly, Flick’s bracelet lit up, and Zed’s wallet, and Preston’s wallet, and those of the guard and nurse. The comm unit on the wall blinked. Zed allowed himself a small smile, knowing that every comm device in the colony was receiving a mystery signal—one no one would be able to trace. Given their isolation, he was counting on it to thoroughly freak Preston out.

“What the hell?” Preston grabbed at her wallet, as did the guard and nurse. Expressions of puzzlement crossed all their faces.

“What’s going on?” Flick asked. His tone was concerned, but his eyes twinkled. A strong sense of approval came across their link.

“Nothing,” Preston said, her voice firm. “It’s nothing. A communications error.” The surety in her voice wavered at the last. “Keith, with me,” she said to the guard. The man nodded and joined her as Preston started back to the hall. She paused to glare at Zed and Flick. “Stay here. You so much as think about leaving this room, and Tamara will take you out.”

Zed looked over at the nurse to see she’d pulled a stunner from somewhere and was holding it on them. Okay...minor complication, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“I’m not leaving Flick,” he said. Let Preston think that was meant to be a reassurance. Clearly she did, since she headed into the hall with the guard with no further hesitation.

Truth was, one woman with one stunner was not going to keep him contained.

Chapter Thirteen

Zed let go of his wrist. Missing their connection, Felix reached after him only to have his fingers move through the space where Zed had been. A second later Zed appeared behind Tamara. She fired the stunner, the charge crackling uselessly through the air in front of her, then struggled against the hold of the arm around her neck.

Rather than count the seconds it would take for Zed to cut the flow of oxygen to her brain, Felix eased off the bed. His head spun and his stomach protested in a number of interesting ways, but he got his feet to the floor. There he paused, hip against the bed frame while he plucked remote monitors from his chest and neck. He probed the bandage at his shoulder and was rewarded with a dull ache. Peeling back a corner revealed a series of neatly healing incisions.

He heard Tamara slump to the floor. Another rush of air and Zed appeared at his side, stuffing the stunner into his belt. “Can you walk?”

“I got sick of answering that question four months ago.” When he’d first lost his arm, nearly dying in the process. “Why does everyone think—”

“We need to get moving.”

Felix grabbed Zed’s arm. “Wait, what about you? Are you okay to get us out of here?”

A smile flashed across Zed’s mouth. “Won’t be doing it alone.”

“Reserve the good stuff for when we really need it. No more Zoning or phase-shifting unless there’s no other way.”

His clothes were neatly folded on a chair at the end of the bed. Felix barely shook out his dusty old utility pants—shoulder protesting the sharp movement—before pulling them over his legs. When he tipped sideways, Zed steadied him and helped him finish.

As they pulled his shirt down over his head, Felix wrinkled his nose. “Jesus, this shirt stinks.” But it was his stink so he’d embrace it...after a fashion.

The empty space inside his boot where his knife should be felt weird against his ankle bone. Stinky shirt, no knife—he was ill-dressed and under prepared. But he had Zed—who was rifling through drawers and cupboards, occasionally flinging bandages and whatnot to the floor.

“Nothing in the way of useful supplies in here,” he muttered.

Felix had no idea how deep into the tunnels they were, or how long they’d have to wander before finding a way out. How many of Preston’s soldiers they’d bump into on the way. He might not be much help. Standing was okay, but moving? His empty stomach rolled.

“Not even a lousy protein bar?”

“Nope.”

Despite the bad news, Zed tossed him a smile that said they were doing this escape thing anyway and stepped toward the door. Felix shuffled up behind as Zed leaned through the doorway and scanned the hall.

“All clear,” Zed reported.

“What’s the plan?”

“To get the fuck out of here.”

“Good enough for me.” They could add complications later.

Zed ducked into the hall at a jog. Felix willed his legs to keep up. The hatch of the operating theater was open, but there was no one in the room. Felix’s co-victim must have been moved elsewhere. Had her part of the operation been a success? Had Preston actually managed to insert a shard into the back of her neck?

A feeling of vacuum in front of him drew Felix’s attention forward. Zed had advanced to the next corner and stood looking back at him, clearly impatient. Felix jogged up behind him. “Did you see any other recovery rooms on your way down here? Did Preston mention the other operation?”

“Other operation?”

“There was someone else in there with me. A woman. I’m assuming she’s now got my pinky stuffed into the back of her neck.”

Zed paled. “No, she didn’t say anything.”

Felix chewed on his lips. Zed’s brow creased in thought.

“We shouldn’t waste time looking for her,” Felix finally said, though he felt an odd kinship with the unknown soldier.

“We’ll help all of them when we’re better positioned to.”

Fuck. Felix shook his head. “Don’t make promises we can’t keep.” If they couldn’t help these men and women, Zed would blame himself for eternity.

“Review later.”

Zed always said that when questions came up during a Zone. But his eyes weren’t flat and his whisper was full of inflection.

“Review later,” Felix murmured in return.

Zed turned the corner and jogged down the next tunnel. Felix ran after him. They navigated two more lengths of rocky passage before running into their first obstacle: a sealed hatch.

“Is this the way you came in?” Felix asked. He had an idea he’d been brought up from the other direction.

“Yeah.” Zed indicated the panel. “Can you hack it?”

Felix’s shoulder protested as he lifted his left wrist to activate his bracelet. He selected a diagnostic tool from his menu. He had to identify the lock before choosing a hack. Hopefully it would be something standard. They probably didn’t have time for him to write code. He wasn’t even sure he could in his condition.

“Huh.”

“What?” Zed asked.

“The power signature in the panel keeps fluctuating.” Had Zed done something more than activate all comms? The lights hadn’t flickered once. Different system? Would make sense to compartmentalize the power solutions...”If it doesn’t stabilize, I won’t be able to hack the lock.”

Zed lifted his wrist with the Guardian cuff. Tiny lights flashed along its surface, but after a moment, he shook his head. “Not working for me, either.”

Felix deactivated the diagnostic. “Let’s try the other direction. I don’t recognize any of this, so they brought me in here another way.”

“Most of these tunnels look natural.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“We could wander a system like this for days.”

“I really, really don’t need any more nightmares, Zed.”

With a smirk, Zed pushed off the door and jogged back the way they’d come. Felix followed. Zed paused at the corner just beyond, peeked around and lunged back. He held up two fingers. Two hostiles in the next tunnel. Nodding, Felix moved up behind Zed. Something nudged his fingers. Looking down, he saw the stunner. Zed had vanished before Felix’s fingers finished closing around the warm handle.

A muffled thump, a startled cry...

Felix looked around the corner. One guard lay on the floor. The other was locked in a struggle with Zed. Felix ran up behind them and pressed the stunner to the man’s back. The man jerked and fell still. Zed eased him to the floor.

Felix looked at the bodies. Were they super soldiers? “Are they Preston’s?”

Zed wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah.”

“So, stunning them still works.”

“They won’t be out for long.” Crouching down, Zed pulled more stunners from holsters, tucking both into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes and two scuffles later, they ran out of civilized tunnel. There had been no hatches set into the wall for the past five minutes and the two tunnels ahead weren’t lit.

“We must have missed a turn somewhere.” Felix turned around. “I tried to keep track last night, but...” It had been dark and he’d been too worried about being buried under the ground somewhere.

“Going back is going to mean more opposition. Preston has got to have realized we’re gone by now.”

Zed sounded tired. He’d Zoned and phase-shifted countless times today already and he wouldn’t be fully recovered from the shuttle crash yet. Felix felt as if he’d been laid out flat on the ground and run over by a team of raw recruits. But going forward meant heading into an unlit tunnel. He’d almost rather...no. If they went back, Preston would take more of his arm. Worse, she might figure out how he’d grown it.

Felix nodded toward the unlit tunnel. “Okay, into the dark it is.”

* * *

The holos from their wallets didn’t give off enough light to do much more than mess up their night vision, but without the dim illumination, they’d be left in the pitch black. They’d already come to a half-dozen forks in the tunnel and each choice looked as disused as the last. At one such fork, they’d found what looked like a storage closet—or it used to be, the ration boxes inside empty and broken down for other use. The lack of amenities and supplies worried Zed. He really hoped that these tunnels were simply a secondary route, used infrequently, rather than abandoned for being inaccessible.

Guess they’d find out.

So far, he hadn’t heard or seen any sounds of pursuit—which was good, because the only thing that would be worse than working their way through these tunnels would be working their way through them at a run.

Zed tried to hold his wallet as steady as possible, but the jolting light still made his stomach queasy. He could barely make out Flick’s features with each frequent glance in his lover’s direction. Flick looked pale, the lines in his forehead etched deep, the scar snaking down his cheek and under his jaw that much more stark than usual.

With an effort, he bit back another “you okay?” query. He’d asked it five minutes ago, so it was off the table for at least another ten. Unless he wanted to goad Flick into a fight. The silence was oppressive, though.

“I ever tell you about the time I was assigned to explore the caves on Outrock?” Outrock had been his first posting—a dinky little colony way the hell out on the edge of human space, but he’d loved it. It had been destroyed in the war.

Flick grunted. “If this story ends with a cave-in, I don’t want to hear it.”

“No.” Zed snorted out a laugh, then ducked around something that looked like a broken-off stalactite. He hadn’t seen any evidence of water in the tunnels so far, though, so stalactite was probably the wrong term. “Watch your head.”

“Got it.”

“So yeah, caves on Outrock. We’d gotten reports from some of the farms near them that they were losing animals to a beardog.”

“A what?”

“Native fauna, predator, looked like a cross between a grizzly bear and a wolf.”

“So why not call it a ‘bearwolf’?”

“I have no idea.”

“Colonists are stupid.”

“Yeah, well, they’d say the same thing about station rats. Scared of wind,” Zed said in a mocking voice. It was a longstanding joke from their childhood, how a breeze always made Flick nervous. Something to do with air currents on a station never changing. He supposed when you grew up in a closed environment like that, randomness would be very unsettling.

“Fine, point made.”

“Are you o—”

“I want to get the fuck out of here, Zed, but since that’s not a possibility at the moment because we’re stuck in unknown tunnels under a fucking mountain in the fucking dark—” Flick’s rising voice cut off sharply and he sucked in a ragged breath. “Go on with your story. The distraction is good.”

Zed touched the back of Flick’s right hand. Barely a trickle of anything came over their connection—a sure sign that Flick was functioning only because he had everything in his head on lockdown. Zed picked up the pace. Going faster would be tough on them both, but it had to be done.

“Right. Beardog. My captain sent out me and three other guys to investigate.”

“Was this before or after you started sleeping with the married guy?”

Heat flashed through Zed’s cheeks. That particular affair had ended poorly—his lover’s wife had found them midact in the barn and beaned Zed in the back of the head with a shovel—and Zed’s indiscretion had always been a bit of a joke to Flick. There was the part where he was literally caught with his pants down, but beyond that, his decisions had proven he was anything but perfect. Zed figured Flick could appreciate that. He definitely liked to poke him about it.

“After,” he admitted.

“Did he give you a kiss for luck?”

“Shut up.”

Flick chuckled. “Okay, okay, go on.”

Zed ducked beneath another maybe-stalactite, then paused as he eyed what he could see of the tunnel in front of them. The walls had been getting steadily closer on either side, and now they’d narrowed significantly. Fuck, this was not going to be pleasant for him. For Flick, it was going to be a living nightmare.

“It’s getting narrower.”

“N-narrower?” Flick stiffened as his voice wavered.

“Yeah.” He guided Flick’s hand to his waistband and tucked his fingers between it and the skin of Zed’s lower back. Looking back over his shoulder, he instructed, “Hold on tight, okay? You can wrap your other arm around my waist if you want, tuck yourself close. Put your forehead between my shoulder blades and close your eyes. I’ll guide us through. You don’t have to worry, just keep your legs moving. Can you do that?”

Flick wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were on the darkness in front of them, but they were wide, dull, and Zed knew he wasn’t really seeing their surroundings but something that existed only in memories. Horrible memories.

“Felix.” He kept his voice low, but firm, and said Flick’s name again until Flick looked at him. “Tuck yourself against my back. I’ve got you.”

“Fucking hate this,” Flick said, his voice shaky, but he moved to do what Zed had asked. Thank God.

With Flick securely behind him, his crystalline arm wrapped tightly around Zed’s waist and fingers tugging at Zed’s waistband, they moved forward. The rock pressed in on all sides, close, closer, and Zed found himself getting short of breath. He forced himself not to think of the tons of rock stacked over them and instead returned to telling his story. Flick was right—it was a good distraction.

“We tracked the beardog to caves a klick or two from one farmer’s fields. I don’t think any of us were thrilled with the idea of going inside, but we had our orders, right?” Zed winced as the rock wall scraped his upper arm, but he kept moving. “We’re armed, we’ve got proper lights—”

“So basically the opposite of this.”

Relief wound through Zed that not only was Flick listening, he was in control enough to respond. “Yeah. So we head in, and after about fifty feet, we get to a bend. One of my guys, a private, starts hyperventilating, so I sent him back to guard the entrance.”

“Bet he didn’t make it to corporal, did he?”

“He transferred out within the month.” Zed couldn’t even remember the private’s name now, but he did remember not being surprised when the guy was no longer on the duty roster one day. He really hoped the kid had gotten out of the AEF before the war—he wasn’t suited to being a soldier. “Anyway, so the three of us continued. There were a lot of twists and turns. A lot more than in this tunnel,” he said, as they followed a gentle curve in the rock. “And we kept going down and going down. The caves were fairly large, too, more like the tunnels we were in back there. Wide enough for two guys to walk side by side.”

“Did you get ambushed?”

“Who’s telling this story?”

“You got ambushed.”

“I don’t think it’s called ‘ambushed’ when it’s an animal.” Zed grimaced at both the memory and the choice facing him—they’d come to a fork. Their wallets weren’t good for anything but light at the moment, so he picked a direction on instinct. “But yeah. It pounced at us from a side chamber.”

Flick’s breath hitched. “Fun.”

“We had guns, we were fine.”

“Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

“Zed...”

“You’ve memorized my scars. Does it look like I got chewed on anywhere?” He patted Flick’s crystalline arm, then looked up. The tunnel didn’t feel as close, and when he lifted his wallet, he saw that the walls had receded. God, he hoped that meant he’d picked the right fork. “The tunnel’s opening up again.” He paused, waiting to see if Flick wanted to pull away.

“I’m...”

“We can walk like this, if it’s easier.”

The slight sagging of Flick’s form against Zed’s back was all the answer he needed, so he started forward again.

“We shot it. One of the guys had a pretty good gouge in his arm, so we took some time to treat it. Once that was done, we noticed that we were in a pretty big chamber—think the size of Cargo One on the Chaos.”

“Huh.”

“But the weirdest thing is that the walls were covered in paintings.”

Flick jerked against his back. “I thought Outrock had no sentient indigenous life.”

“That’s what everyone thought. When we reported the discovery, there was all this uncertainty about whether they’d shut the colony down or whatever. Lots of scientists came through over the next few months looking for more evidence, but I don’t think they found much. Another cave with paintings, maybe some tools. I think eventually they determined that whatever creatures made the paintings had gone extinct.”

“Why?”

Zed shrugged. “Maybe the beardogs did it.”

Flick snorted. It wasn’t much of a laugh, but Zed would take it.

It took him a few minutes to realize that there was more light in the tunnel than he could attribute to his wallet. They seemed to be angling upward slightly too. “I think we’re coming out.”

Flick’s grip tightened, as though he didn’t quite want to believe Zed’s words. Zed patted his arm again. “Hey, hey. Have a peek.”

There was some shifting and then Flick’s chin pressed into Zed’s shoulder. “Daylight,” Flick breathed, leaning hard into Zed. “Thank the fucking stars.”

Another five minutes or so saw them emerging into the late afternoon light cast by Paradise’s double suns. The egress from the cave was small, an opening they had to squeeze through one at a time, a last bit of torture from the mountain before they were free. They stumbled onto a hillside covered in rock and, crouching low, jogged over behind a large boulder. Zed took a few minutes to scan for tentacles. One encounter was more than enough.

Satisfied there were no tentacles around—yet—Zed turned his attention to the rest of the landscape. Something wasn’t quite right about it. He looked around, judging angles, and realized what was bugging him. Unlike the ravine the colony was tucked into, this valley was less...natural. Too round.

“It’s a crater,” Flick said, his voice low. “I think this might have been another mountain or a hill once, and then smack! An asteroid destroyed it.”

“Would explain all the rocks around, wouldn’t it.”

“Huh. Maybe.” Flick squinted through the trees farther downslope. “I think there’s a landing pad down there. See the lights?”

Zed angled himself to look over Flick’s head and spotted the same thing he’d seen. The shadows were long at the base of the crater, which made the regular flashing lights more noticeable. “Yeah.” His gaze roamed outward, looking for signs of life. He didn’t see any, but he did spot another cave entrance leading out onto the crater floor, this one with a light above it. He jerked his chin toward it. “I think that’s the usual exit from the colony to here.” A straighter shot, most likely. Not the mess of twisted tunnels that led them higher up, near the lip of the crater.

There were also two large, bulky shapes tucked into the longest shadow. Shuttlecraft. Their way off the planet?

Movement at the lower entrance caught his attention. Three figures moving purposefully toward the opposite side of the crater where they began climbing a well-concealed path.

“A search party,” Zed murmured.

Flick turned to look up at Zed. “What do you want to do?”

Zed sighed. “Head in the opposite direction to that search party and regroup while we figure out how to steal one of Preston’s shuttles and get the hell out of Paradise.” He smiled at Flick’s low chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get some distance between us and them before it gets dark.”

Chapter Fourteen

Felix leaned out over the edge of the shallow crater and looked down. “This one isn’t deep at all.”

Zed spoke from a short distance behind him. “How does the floor look? Any of those fissures?”

They’d been halfway down the side of another crater when a tentacle had poked up out of a fissure near the bottom. Felix had taken skin off his human hand climbing back up again. If not for the reinforced smart fiber over the knees of his pants, he’d have taken skin off there, too, as Zed hauled him up the last meter and back onto the plateau.

“You could come look for yourself.” Glancing over his shoulder, Felix waggled his brows at Zed. “It’s not deep.”

Zed held up a hand. “That’s what you said about the last one, asshole.”

Chuckling, Felix stepped back from the edge of the crater and wandered back toward Zed. “I dunno how deep is deep for you, or high, or whatever, but I reckon we could drop to the floor of this one without having to climb down.”

The furrows across Zed’s brow relaxed. “Okay, that’s not that deep.” He tensed up again. “Unless you’re jerking me around.”

“I’m too fucking tired, and checking this one out can’t be any worse than having to lean over the edge of that other one to pull me away from the scragglers.”

Zed offered a tired smile. “Your life isn’t at risk this time.”

Felix gazed out across the rock-strewn ground. This side of the ravine felt less like a mountain and more like an elevated desert of...rock. Stone and rock. Gravel in shallow depressions and dust over everything. The ground did slope down on occasion, but only toward another expanse of stone. Except for the bugs, they’d seen no wildlife, just as on the other side. Felix wasn’t surprised. The deep ravine was a much more hospitable place, scragglers and mad scientists aside. Some of the craters on this side were deep enough to host a pool of water, a single stubby tree and the telltale fissures, though.

They hadn’t seen signs any of the other craters were connected to the system of caves beneath the cliffs, or were being used by Preston and her people. Neither had they seen the patrol that had left from the opposite side of the landing crater. With the low clouds and charged atmosphere, Felix guessed any search parties would be confined to hoofing it, just as they were. So the mission had become to find a suitable place in which to hole up for a while.

Felix put his arm around Zed’s shoulders and drew him close so they could rest their foreheads together. The connection hummed into being. “The crater looks good. Not too deep, a puddle on one side and no visible fissures.” He let the truth of his words and an accompanying image filter across.

Sighing, Zed leaned into him. “I don’t know why I let this height thing get to me.”

“Because we’re at the end of our tether. I nearly freaked out in the caves. If you hadn’t been there with me, Preston would have found me all wrapped up in a cat ball.”

“I think you mean catatonic.”

“Yeah, that. So, without me, you’d sleep up here on this plateau and be all exposed. This is why we’re a team.” Except Zed would probably find the strength to crawl over the side of a cliff before Felix found the wherewithal to crawl along a dark tunnel alone. Maybe. “We good?”

“Very good.” Zed’s lips brushed his.

Stepping back, Felix led the way to the side of the crater. Shit. Was it suddenly deeper? Only one sun remained in the sky and it was preparing to tuck itself in below the horizon for the night. Longer shadows could account for him being slightly off, but—

“Hey, this isn’t bad.”

Felix turned to Zed with a grin. “See, told you.”

No scragglers tried to entangle them on the way down and nothing stirred along the floor or in the pool. Felix paced the diameter and put it at fifteen meters. It wasn’t quite bowl shaped at the bottom. One side bulged in under the cliff, providing a shallow recess they could use for shelter from the elements and search parties.

Zed eyed the puddle of water. “Pity we don’t have the canteen.”

Felix patted his pockets, as if expecting to find it hiding in one, and frowned as he felt something else. He pulled out the pouch of water that had been tossed into his cell the night before. “Well, as a last resort, I’ve got this.” He thumbed the tab.

“Wait, don’t drink that. It’s drugged.”

“I know. I recognized the sedative hangover this morning.” Had that only been this morning? Felix held up the pouch. “But you could use the rest.” And the hydration. Zed’s metabolism was a lot faster than his. He had to be starving, thirsty and tripping over the edge of exhaustion.

Shaking his head, Zed stepped away from the small pool. “We need to stay alert.”

“Still, you should sleep first. I’ll keep watch.” While Zed visibly struggled between the need to remain awake, alert and in control of the mission and the fatigue pulling his shoulders toward the ground, Felix continued, “You need the rest more than I do. If we’re up against it, your abilities are going to be our only advantage. Besides, I slept half the day away while Preston poked around in my shoulder.”

He offered up the pouch and Zed waved it away. “Save it. Could come in handy.”

“Okay.” Felix tucked the pouch back into his pocket and turned to indicate the depression behind him. “How about we set up in here.” Above the crater, dusk had arrived, spreading deeper shadows across the crater floor. The underside of the overhang didn’t look as appealing as it had before the sun had set. But it seemed like a better idea than being completely exposed. “It’s not much, but I kinda like the idea of sleeping with a roof over my head.”

“Half a roof.”

“Better than nothing.”

Felix sat with his back to the wall and Zed flopped down next to him. Felix held out his hand. “Here, pass over all the stunners you’ve got. I’ll fiddle with them, see if I can’t increase the charge and delivery.”

“Good idea.”

Soon, Felix had a pile of three stunners in his lap. Beside him, Zed leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Felix watched him for a breath or two, half admiring the profile that seemed all at once foreign and familiar. The feeling twisting through his chest wasn’t strange, though. The weird tug against his heart he always associated with love.

Reaching out, he stroked the back of his human fingers over Zed’s cheek. “I love you.”

Zed’s fingers covered his. “I know. I feel it every time you touch me. I see it every time you look at me.”

“Even when I’m pissed?”

“Even then.” Zed squeezed his fingers.

“If...” Felix swallowed. “If we manage to get off this rock and, ah, you know, did the marriage thing, would you want kids?”

Zed’s eyelids snapped upward. He cast a sideways look at Felix. “Kids?”

A tendril of longing drifted through the simple touch between their fingers.

Felix sucked in a breath. “You do.”

Zed’s throat moved.

Pulling his fingers away, Felix looked down at the stunners in his lap. “That might not be so bad, you know. If you had kids, you’d want to stay with them, right? Not go adventuring around the galaxy chasing down skips and bounties or delivering crap, or being chased by madmen and criminals, or at the beck and call of Central or the Guardians.”

“First of all, if we had children, they’d be ours, Flick. Not mine. Second...now really isn’t the time to talk about this.”

“But is that why you want to get married? To get all settled?”

Zed took a while to answer. “Maybe? Do I think being married will mean we won’t find ourselves stuck in a crater on a planet some lunatic decided to call Paradise? No.” He grabbed Felix’s hand. “I think it will mean you and me are it. Absolute. Bonded in every way.”

Felix already felt that way. Always had. Why did Zed need an official pronouncement to get there?

After delivering a gentle squeeze to Zed’s hand, Felix disentangled his fingers. He didn’t want Zed to be party to the thoughts he needed to let roll through his head. “I’m thinking about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Zed might have smiled—the light had faded so much Felix could barely make out his face. But the frisson of connection lingering between them felt hopeful.

Zed’s breathing deepened and slowed again and Felix let him go. Activating his bracelet, he chose a bright holo and picked up a stunner. All three were the same make and model and within minutes he’d formulated a plan to use one to boost the charge and output of the other two. Lifting his crystal hand, he concentrated on the tip of his index finger and watched as it extended, thinned and formed a fine point, which he carefully fashioned into a six-lobed Torx. Another moment of thought hardened his tool. The idea of snapping off the tip of his finger in a screw did not appeal, especially as he already had one to regrow. He could regrow it, couldn’t he? His shoulder ached, but his arm felt as it should. Connected to him, a part of him. Good and whole, even with the missing finger—which, oddly, didn’t pain him. It was just gone.

Zed began to snore as Felix worked. Smiling, Felix spared a glance for his lover now and again, and let his thoughts wander along the question of marriage and what it meant to Zed. Why he needed an official proclamation, despite knowing the depth of Felix’s love for him. Being able to see it and feel it, all the time.

Was it an Anatolius thing? Did Zed simply need a virtual rubber stamp on their relationship for the sake of his family? Or did Zed have a need to have his own affairs in order? He was a thinker and a planner. He’d reorganized all the finances for the Chaos and had retooled their insurance policies. He’d tweaked their schedules and had been the one to suggest using the asteroid as a warehouse.

Did the idea of marriage suit his sense of order?

No, it couldn’t be that. Zed was the most romantic guy Felix knew. He was always buying gifts. Toys, holo comics and superhero holos, components for his projects, shipments of fresh fruit, shirts Felix didn’t want to wear because they were altogether too fine and fancy, but liked to admire because...they were very fine (and fancy). Two bracelets. Boots. Nights out on Alpha to listen to a band or watch a play. Felix didn’t really enjoy the latter, but he went along because Zed liked it.

Felix snapped the case of the second retooled stunner back together and scooped up the leftover parts to tuck into a pocket. Waste nothing. Then he held out his crystal hand and concentrated on the stub of his missing finger. His thoughts wandered toward Zed.

Did he give enough back? Was he romantic enough for Zed? When was the last time he’d bought him something in return? Felix couldn’t remember. He’d jiggered a wallet so Zed could expand one of the holo projections across his lap like a keyboard, and he’d expanded the memory so Zed could compose as much music as he liked without worrying about storage and bandwidth. But that had just been tinkering. Not really a gift and not romantic.

When they got out of this mess, he should make a gesture. Do something...nice.

That decided, Felix turned his attention back to the stump at the base of his hand and hesitated. He really wanted to try to regrow his finger, but he was already exhausted. He wasn’t sure he had the strength, let alone the mental fortitude. Also, what if they were recaptured and Preston figured out he could replace whatever she cut away? A shudder grabbed his shoulders. Nope, not happening.

Felix tipped his head back against the rock behind him and looked up at the night sky. No stars poked through the dense atmosphere, only diffuse moonlight. At least it wasn’t completely dark.

* * *

A massive crash woke Zed. He slammed into awareness, his heart pounding. Artillery fire? Fuck! How had the stin gotten so close? What planet was he on? He reached for the comms unit that would be tucked into his ear—it was always there when he had boots on the ground. Except...there was nothing.

What the...

Right. Paradise. Stranded, on the run. Shit, had a patrol found them? Zed tensed, listening for any shouts, and held a hand over Flick’s shoulder, ready to shake him awake at the first indication—

Light flashed violently overhead, followed by a harsh crash. Not artillery fire or a patrol—thunder. The tang of ozone in the air wasn’t from weapons—it was lightning. God, it had been so long since Zed had experienced the energy of a thunderstorm. He’d forgotten how the air became polarized, making his skin tingle and the hairs on his arms stand on end.

And Flick was sleeping through it. When he was supposed to be on watch. Zed sighed, but he couldn’t really blame Flick for fading out. They were both exhausted, injured—mobile, yeah, but nowhere close to one hundred percent. They needed sleep. At least the storm had likely chased any search parties back into the shelter of the caves and settlement.

Zed stretched out beside Flick, tucking himself against his back and pressing his lips to Flick’s neck. Flick grunted, a sound that quickly turned into a snuffle, and Zed smiled. Despite the oddly purple-orange flash of lightning, he still wasn’t quite prepared for the intensity of the thunder. His arms tightened around Flick, who grunted again, and sparks across their connection said he was waking.

“Sorry,” Zed breathed. “It’s just me.”

“You’re loud.” The words were barely intelligible.

“Oh, well, that was the thunder.”

Flick’s body stiffened as he jolted fully awake. “Thunder?”

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“Fucking hate planets.” But the tension drained out of Flick’s muscles, a trickle at a time.

Until the next crash.

“Fuck.”

“Shh. Got you,” Zed murmured. He nosed Flick’s ear.

“Stop. Not in the mood.”

“It’s just noise. Can’t hurt us.”

“Lightning is not just noise.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what you’re afraid of.”

Flick was silent, but tense, through another flash and crash.

“This storm is a good thing,” Zed said as the last growls of thunder died away. “No one’s going to be out looking for us, not in this. It’s a reprieve.” He pressed a soft kiss to the delicate skin beneath Flick’s ear. “Feel the charge in the air?”

“I don’t like it,” Flick grumbled.

Zed hummed. “I kinda do. It feels wild. Uncontrolled.” Another boom. He nipped at Flick’s ear to distract him. “Ever make love in a storm?”

Flick sucked in a breath and groaned, pushing against Zed. “No,” he said, his voice shaky.

Zed stretched the neck of Flick’s shirt and sank his teeth into the meat of his shoulder, giving him yet another sensation to focus on rather than the flash in the sky or the rumble of the thunder. There was no rain yet—the entire world seemed to be balanced on a knife’s edge as it waited for the skies to open up.

He’d started out with only the intention to distract Flick from the riot happening in the sky above them, but the idea of reconnecting with Flick like this, now, after their brief conversation about marriage and kids—hell, after escaping Preston when he’d been worried they couldn’t...

Yes, please.

“Wild, huh?” Flick rasped.

Zed licked the indents his teeth had left in Flick’s skin. They’d be gone in moments. “Yeah.”

“Show me.”

Zed smiled. “Sit up, back against the wall.”

He moved back so Flick had room to position himself—but as soon as he was comfortable, Zed moved in. He straddled Flick’s hips on his knees, his hands braced on the wall over Flick’s shoulders, and leaned in for a kiss.

Lightning could have struck right beside him and he wouldn’t have abandoned Flick’s lips. Kisses like this—hot, fevered, with teeth and tongue battling—were more important than storms. More important than breathing. Zed moaned into Flick’s mouth as his covered cock brushed against Flick’s stomach. Then Flick grabbed his ass and pressed down, and it was so fucking good.

God, he wanted Flick inside him. Wouldn’t happen right now or until they got off this rock—spit might work as lube in the porn holos, but Zed wasn’t keen on a sore asshole for however many days they were left on Paradise. But this—rubbing, riding, mimicking the movements of penetration—it worked. Fuck, did it work.

His fingers scrambled at the fly of his pants, opening it, parting it and fishing out his hard cock. Then he did the same for Flick. The first touch of hot steel against hot steel took Zed’s breath away. Energy prickled his skin as the world around them flashed purple and orange, heightening the feeling of everything. He took both their cocks into one of his hands and closed his eyes at the sensation.

“So good,” he whispered against Flick’s mouth.

The thunder ate Flick’s response, but it didn’t matter. He pumped. They moved in unison, finding the rhythm of their own dance, the one they’d all but perfected in the past year. He knew exactly how Flick liked to be touched, how hard to grip, how fast to go, how to move and twist his palm to drag every drop of pleasure from Flick. Flick, in turn, knew just how to hold Zed’s hips—firm, tight and insistently, pulling him against Flick’s groin again and again. All the while, their pleasure leaked across their connection, ramping each other’s even higher.

It had never been like this with anyone. It never could be, because no one else was Flick.

The skies opened. Rain pummeled their makeshift shelter, hitting the ground with enough force to splash back upward onto their legs. The air was suddenly alive—not just charged from the storm, but like a living thing. Warm, comforting. Zed opened his eyes, not knowing when he’d closed them, to look down at Flick. Flick looked up, his eyes glinting with mischief—and that’s when Zed realized that one of Flick’s hands had abandoned his hip.

He cried out as clever fingers tweaked the barbell in his nipple, sending the sensation shooting straight to his cock. “Again,” he panted. Flick’s other hand joined the party, pushing Zed’s shirt up. His nipples were squeezed in unison and Zed lost it, coming with a shout swallowed by the roar of the rain. Warmth flooded his hand and he kept moving until Flick stiffened beneath him, his climax silent but no less forceful. Semen hit Zed’s chin and he smiled, proud of the fact that he’d made Flick shoot so hard.

He fell forward, leaning his head on Flick’s shoulder as he caught his breath. Flick seemed in no hurry to get him to move—he sat boneless and sated beneath Zed, his heart thumping hard enough that Zed could feel it against his own chest. Or maybe that was his. After a moment, Zed leaned back, his arms and legs feeling like wet noodles, and brought his come-covered hand up between them to take a lick.

Flick shivered and a tiny spark of lust threatened to reignite. “Love you.”

Zed didn’t have to say it back—the truth of what they felt had cascaded between them with their orgasms, as it always did. But words were how they’d first shared those feelings and Zed wouldn’t ever suggest abandoning them.

“Love you too,” he said. He wiped his hand on his pants—the smart fiber would take care of the mess—and tucked himself and Flick back beneath their flies. “Did I change your mind about thunderstorms?”

Flick snorted. “I don’t know. I think I need more convincing.”

“Maybe back on Earth? We can visit my parents’ place.” Zed settled in behind Flick again, feeling lazy and warm.

Flick’s human fingers grabbed Zed’s. “We’ll see,” he said.

Over their connection came a clear, almost brutal desire to do that again. But with lube. Chuckling, Zed closed his eyes and let the world around them dim for a little while.

Chapter Fifteen

Felix had read about the notion of rain washing a world clean. But aside from a few extra puddles, the storm left little evidence of its passage. The deeper parts of the ravine might show more, and if the gods were smiling, a few rock scragglers might have drowned.

After a night curled under the overhang, Felix felt anything but clean. He didn’t regret the bump and grind with Zed. Intimacy with the man he loved trumped anything and everything. And Zed was just sexy. All the time. But even a man who regularly challenged the miraculous properties of smart fiber could find little to recommend about having his pubes stuck together.

Shucking off his clothes, he made use of one of the new puddles. The cool water felt good against his skin, as if it soothed away the gentle burn of fatigue no single night could dispel. Zed joined him and Felix took the opportunity to admire his unclothed form, again.

“More sex will make me even more hungry than I already am,” Zed warned.

“You’re supposed to be the romantic one.” Felix had intended to whine, but his tone sounded more wistful. He lifted his shirt back over his head, bandaged shoulder protesting a little less than the day before, and noted the smell hadn’t improved overnight. “I think I’ve killed the fiber in this shirt.”

“We should buy stock in a fiber company, or just start our own. In fact, you should turn your talents to inventing a better brand of smart fiber. One that can withstand the Felix Ingesson test.” Zed moved in close, hooked a hand around the back of Felix’s neck and dropped a kiss to his forehead.

Snorting, Felix pushed him away, but the gears in his mind were turning. It’d been a while since he contemplated a problem that didn’t involve survival.

Stepping back, Zed adjusted his clothing and tucked one of the retooled stunners into his belt. “What’s first on our agenda?”

Felix eyed one of the untouched puddles. “Figuring out if we can drink this water?”

“Not sure I’d trust that older pool, but there’s no evidence the colonists here consider the rain toxic.”

Right, the only protection the settlement had was against the sun, and Felix hadn’t seen any water purification equipment. It might have been hidden somewhere in the vast system of caves below them, but they hadn’t seen any of that sort of machinery during their run yesterday, either.

“Well if it didn’t dissolve my junk when I was washing, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to risk a sip.” Felix knelt down and cupped a hand through the water. He smelled it first, then took a cautious sip. “Tastes like dust.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“Let’s give me half an hour to die before you try it.”

“Roger that.”

Felix paced the diameter of their crater, turned and walked back to Zed. “What’s next? Apart from figuring out how to get the fuck off this planet?”

“Okay, what do we know?”

“That Preston is a psychopathic bitch. Or maybe sociopathic. I always get those two confused.”

“Bitch part fits.” One corner of Zed’s mouth lifted slightly. “Getting off this planet and communicating with the Chaos and/or Maddox are our primary objectives. We know what Preston is doing. We don’t have the tools or the manpower to stop it. We need help.”

“Agreed.”

“Preston has off-planet transport. We’ve seen no flyover patrols, probably because the atmosphere here is too tricky for navigation.”

Felix tapped his bracelet. “Building a list of possible craft in case we need a quick tutorial.” He could narrow the search based on the vague shapes he’d glimpsed on the dark side of the crater, but not by much. He looked up. “Okay, you’re our numbers guy. How many guards or soldiers does Preston have, total. We disabled seven yesterday? And we were in a quiet section of her compound.”

Zed related the details of his training session with Preston’s troops. She didn’t have a lot of people, and Zed had left over half of them hurting during their escape. That one search party might be it, unless she started recruiting colonists. How many of them were involved in her program? Rather than dwell on what they didn’t know, Felix opened a new holo, and built a virtual map of what they did: the layout of the settlement and Preston’s facility in the caves, a vague estimation of how far beneath the mountainous terrain the tunnels extended, the location of the large crater housing their escape plan, plus a couple of scenarios for how and when they might try to snatch a shuttle.

“How are you feeling?”

Felix finished making a last notation and checked in with his gut. “Alive.”

“No nausea, confusion, double vision, muscle cramping?”

Calling up the basic diagnostic tool he had, Felix scanned himself. “I’m battered, bruised, dehydrated, have an excess of lactic acid and a lowered mental acuity, which may be due to any or all of the above. I’m also fucking hungry and would happily sacrifice a basket of kittens for a ride to my bunk on the Chaos.”

“A basket of kittens?” Zed appeared torn between amusement and consternation.

“Show me a useful kitten and I’ll reconsider my options.”

Snickering, Zed knelt by the pool and swept up a handful of water. “Okay, let’s get hydrated and then walk and talk. I’d like to scout back toward yesterday’s exit, check out that landing crater a little more and see if we can’t figure out how Preston is communicating with the rest of the galaxy. She’s got to have a communications platform somewhere. An antenna array large enough to punch through the atmosphere.”

“Closest relay point is Regulus. We’re going to need a powerful signal to reach it.” Projected by something much bigger than his makeshift beacon. Unless...A quick check of their wallets confirmed they’d been on Paradise for four days, or a hundred and twelve Standard hours. “We’ve missed four check-ins. When do you think Elias would have come after us?”

Zed’s mouth twisted a little to one side. “That wasn’t the plan. Maddox might—”

“It’s not a matter of if, but when. Elias would come. We’re his crew, his responsibility.”

“This is way above and beyond...” Zed blew out a breath. “No, you’re right.”

“‘’’Course I am.”

“One missed check-in isn’t cause for alarm, but two, yeah, SOP would be to investigate after two missed calls.”

“Elias might never have been AEF, but he runs a tight ship.” As Zed would know. “Okay...”After some calculation, they had a window of arrival for the Chaos and any possible help. They could almost be overhead now. “Let’s keep our ship’s comms channel open. It’d take a miracle for him to reach us through the murk overhead, but Qek plus Ryan is a team I would not bet against.”

“Me neither.”

Felix stilled his natural twitches and the small leaps of his mind for the space of a breath. He took in his surroundings—which hadn’t changed—and his companion. He was tired, hungry and all the other things the medical app had reported. But after comparing notes and laying out a plan, a course of action, he felt...better. Not quite optimistic, but more determined. Not ready to lie down and let Paradise get the better of him.

An hour later, his determination edged toward optimism as a flash of light gave away a search party. Zed grabbed Felix’s arm and pulled him down. Crouching low, they sought the shelter of a pair of boulders and watched a group of three—the same three as the day before?—pass by a quarter of a klick away. They moved quietly, but the terrain offered little in the way of cover besides the scattered boulders. The flash that had given them away? Sunglasses. It was a rookie mistake, and matched every other detail Zed had shared about the inadequate discipline and training of Preston’s small army.

Four hours later, the ungodly heat of Paradise’s two suns had Felix revising his level of determination again. Sheltering in a shallow crater, he tried pinging the Chaos on the off chance Elias might be in orbit and setting up a comms network with the ground. He’d tried bouncing signals back from multiple sets of coordinates in the hope he’d find something out there. Nothing.

They made a thorough assessment of the accessibility of the crater Preston used as a landing pad. Getting in wasn’t necessarily the issue. Despite the depth, the crater had wide, sloping sides. Crossing the floor without being seen was another matter. No cover and a regular patrol. The settlement might have a casual outlook, but Preston obviously guarded her back door a little more carefully. Or maybe she’d added the patrol after their escape.

Next to him, Zed’s stomach gurgled oddly.

“You okay?” Felix asked. It couldn’t be the water. Too long had passed. Had they missed a parasite? Was his stomach right now crawling with tiny rock scraggler babies? God no.

“I’m good, it’s just the heat and lack of food, water, a bed with a proper pillow.” Zed offered a wan smile.

Another complication to getting across the crater, disabling guards and stealing a shuttle that might not be equipped and space-worthy.

“We need to get you something to eat,” Felix said.

Zed needed far more calories per day than he did, and though a hardened soldier, had probably never developed the habit of getting by on a swallow of spit and bile. He offered a quick nod and reclined into the shade of the boulder they were using as cover.

“I think we should keep looking for comm towers. Getting a signal off this planet is more important than saving our own asses. We need to let someone know what’s going on here just in case we get caught trying to steal a shuttle.” Felix frowned as he finished speaking, as if he didn’t recognize the words as his own. Him recommending selfless action?

Zed appeared to think it over for a few moments before offering a sober nod. “You’re right.” He gestured toward the opposite side of the landing crater. “They’re probably that way. The direction the search party went yesterday.”

“Good call.” Felix’s answering grin was brief. He turned back to his Paradise database and continued tagging entries. The craft they’d been able to identify in the crater (two—both spacefaring if not currently capable), the distance they’d already logged since the morning, and even the relative temperature changes. Keeping his mind engaged helped distract him from any remaining questions about their situations. And/or fretting over Preston’s mad plans.

Killing his holo display, Felix nudged Zed, who’d been timing the patrol. “Ready to go?”

Zed tucked his wallet away and they struck out across the plateau, around the lip of the crater, making sure the distance between themselves and the patrol was always increasing. Exhaustion of every kind pulled at Felix. Beside him, Zed plodded along wordlessly. Felix’s determination, or perhaps it had simply been pragmatism, started to wane. He didn’t want to think about being stuck on this rock forever...but he was starting to think about being stuck on this rock forever. Tired, hungry, thirsty, sick of the smell of himself and thoroughly convinced planetside living was for the intellectually challenged.

“Tell me about your parents’ place,” he prompted.

Zed looked at him for a while, steely eyes dull. “What place?”

“On Earth.”

“They have an island in the South Pacific Ocean.” The place names meant nothing to Felix, but he didn’t care if Zed started speaking ancient Greek. So long as he kept talking. “There’s the main house and half a dozen guest cottages, which are pretty much small houses. Pools, terraces, gardens. A golf course.” A what? “Paths through the rainforest to the extinct volcano on the southern coast.”

“I bet there’s bugs.” Felix had given up slapping the ones taking bites out of the back of his neck.

“There are.” Zed arched a brow. “Dragonflies as big as your hand.”

“See, the golf course nearly swayed me.”

“You play golf?”

“It’s a game?”

Zed laughed. “There’s a field around the island that deflects a portion of the UV spectrum at certain times of day and anything larger than a flea.”

“That sounds more like it.”

Zed had stopped walking. He pointed toward the endless horizon. “What’s that?”

Felix squinted at the distant shape. “Holy shit!” He took off at a run only to flag after ten steps. Fucking planet leaching all his strength. But he was close enough to make out the shape of two structures jutting up from the endless rock. “Signal towers!”

Closer, they were big, ugly and surrounded by a field probably something like what Zed’s parents had around their island. Felix smacked into it and flew backward, the purple-gray sky wheeling overhead. He landed flat on his back with the hazy light of the primary sun flaring in his eyes. “Fuck.”

Zed’s silhouette blotted out the sunlight. He extended a hand and Felix grasped it, pulled up and clambered to his feet.

“You okay?” Zed asked.

“Honestly? I have no idea, but I don’t care. We found signal towers.”

“Just need to deactivate the field.”

Felix waved his left wrist through the air. “It’s a hackable problem. We’re good.” He tilted his head. “Though, you have to wonder why the towers are so far away from the settlement.”

Zed’s thought crease teased the space between his brows. “Only one reason I can think of—to keep the colonists isolated. They might not even know this little installation is here. And if someone detects this and lands, it’d take a while to find the settlement. Partitioning of resources and information.”

“So if I tamper with the field, Preston will know we’re here.”

“Likely as not.”

“We better make this quick, then.”

* * *

Flick in midhack or midtinker was something to see. His whole body became focused on whatever he was doing. The incessant fidgets stopped as his mind, his energy, was consumed by the puzzle before him. One of Zed’s favorite things was to sit in bed and pretend to read while Flick tinkered. He’d watch him out of the corner of his eye and just...appreciate him. How lines of concentration creased his brow, how his eyes narrowed, how he pursed his lips.

Not many got to see that side of Felix Ingesson. Fewer even knew it existed.

Their surroundings weren’t quite as interesting, but Zed forced himself to turn his attention from Flick and stand guard. His mind wanted to wander, fatigue, dehydration and residual pain from his Mendo’d wrist and the knock on his head all conspiring to make it more difficult than it should be to concentrate. He paced behind Flick, keeping an eye on the plateau, and waited for the go.

After about fifteen minutes of muttering interspersed with the occasional curse, Flick let out a quiet whoop of success. “Got it.” The field shimmered and faded from view.

Zed stepped forward, clapping a hand on Flick’s shoulder as he walked closer to the signal towers. “Knew you would.”

“So you think you can use the towers to boost your cuff?” Flick followed close behind.

“I hope so.”

“Just...don’t give yourself a nosebleed or anything, okay?”

Worry threaded through Flick’s tone—valid worry, Zed had to admit. The Guardian cuff was a tool, yes, but a tool he didn’t entirely understand. It seemed to be integrated into his body somehow—but not like a usual implant. It could hijack all comms frequencies, it could open locked doors and it allowed Zed to communicate with the omniscient aliens no matter where he was. Unless, apparently, he was on the surface of Paradise. He wondered if the Guardians knew where he was, or if they cared. They probably didn’t—for all that their presence in his mind reminded him of the warmth and concern of his grandmother, he knew he was as much a tool to them as the cuff was to him.

“I’ll try not to,” Zed promised. He eyed the tower, unsure if he should just stand next to it or touch it or...

Fuck it. He grabbed it and opened the cuff’s comms abilities. “Mayday Mayday Mayday, this is Zander Anatolius, Emissary of the Guardians. My ship went down on 83 Leonis Bb and we are under attack by hostile forces planetside. We require immediate assistance. Please acknowledge if you copy. Mayday Mayday Mayday.”

He repeated the message, pushing it out into the void. He couldn’t quite describe how he knew it was leaving the atmosphere—a lack of feedback in the cuff, maybe. Whatever the reason, he was sure it was reaching out beyond the atmosphere of the planet.

There just wasn’t anything out there to receive it.

“Zed, I see movement.”

The search party, or a new patrol out of the landing crater? If Preston had detected the tampering with the forcefield, that’d be the closest egress from the caves. Gritting his teeth, Zed repeated the message, rushing through the words. The whine of a laser carbine shot made him jerk down, but he kept contact with the tower and his cuff open.

“Fuck!” Flick grabbed his shoulder. “We’ve got to go!”

“Not yet!” He didn’t want to, but he needed to change tactics. They had to get off this rock and their options were getting thinner. He and Flick could still try to steal one of Preston’s ships, but they’d shown their hand by using this tower. Would they get another chance at this?

Probably not.

He closed his eyes and opened his mind. “Guardians!”

As always, the mental communication carried layers. With that one word, he communicated worry and need and please help. The effort of it made his knees shake, but he kept with it.

Faintly, so faintly he would have brushed it aside if he hadn’t been waiting for it, he heard, “Zanderanatolius?”

Zed clenched his jaw and gathered up the remainder of his strength. Flick jerked on his shoulder—they needed to run, but he couldn’t let go of the tower, not yet. “Crashed on 83 Leonis Bb. Under attack—army of Zanderanatolius.”

A shot pinged off the tower, far too close to Zed’s head for his liking. Zed ducked and rolled, and even before Flick grabbed his wrist and tugged, he was running.

“Contacted the Guardians,” he yelled at Flick as they careered down the hillside behind the comm towers, away from the landing crater and the assholes shooting at them.

“They gonna help?”

“Think so. C’mon.” He led them downslope and into the cover of the trees—such as they were—knowing that neither he nor Flick would be able to keep up any sort of run for long. Picking a path down into the ravine distracted him from what he’d felt from the Guardians in that instance before the connection had faded.

Anger. A flash of consuming, fiery anger, an emotion he’d never expected to feel from the stoic aliens. And if they were angry...

Fuck, he didn’t want to think about what sort of hell he might have brought down on Paradise. Or humanity.

Chapter Sixteen

“Three minutes until we exit jump-space, Captain.”

“Thanks, Qek.” Elias paused with his finger over the general comm. He’d been about to announce the maneuver to the rest of the ship. Habit, and unnecessary when the only other crew member was already strapped into the seat across from him.

Perhaps sensing his moment of hesitation, Nessa reached across the narrow bridge and gripped his hand. “We’ll find them.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “Yes, we will. Hey, Qek, do you need someone at the copilot’s console?”

“Only if we meet a hostile reception in the Leonis System. Even then, it would depend on whether we face the threat of immediate destruction or have time to formulate a plan and implement evasive maneuvers.”

“Let’s go with no.” And hope. Possibly pray.

The transition from j-space to regular space was mercifully brief, leaving his gut wondering which body it belonged to, as always.

Like most remote, unchartered systems, Leonis had a deserted and unassuming feel. No jump queue, no glittering rings of station modules and docks. No ex-orbital relay point with a timely message packet. Nothing. They had emerged near the second planet of the second sun, the coordinates taken from Fix’s last communication. Near being a relative term. They were well outside the planet’s exosphere and the distance gave a good view of the visible side of the near-Earth-sized orb. It looked as if someone had sprinkled the surface with purple dust and set it spinning, then somehow trapped the dust inside a field so that it swirled forever through the upper atmosphere. Were Fix and Zed down there? If they were, the question of their lack of comms had been answered.

Think positive.

“I am detecting no satellites on this side of 83 Leonis Bb,” Qek reported. “Initial scans indicate the upper atmosphere is made up of...”

Elias tuned out Qek’s chemical analysis. He didn’t need to know what the purple dust was to understand what it meant. “Any other ship signatures?”

“Not as yet.”

If the Apex Rapere was in orbit, they’d have heard from them—if not over the past week, then as soon as they exited j-space. Comms had been silent. Elias didn’t expect to find Fix and Zed’s ship above the planet, however, and he hoped not to find a debris field. He did hope to see the Blythe.

They’d been in touch with Marnie and Ryan via jazer for much of the trip, reporting back and forth. Suspended in j-space, the Chaos didn’t have much news to share, but Elias had wanted regular updates from the asteroid, just in case the Blythe had decided to visit the source rather than return home. Marnie and Ryan hadn’t seen a soul. It was possible the Blythe was still en route from an illogical direction. But Elias had an idea the asteroid’s relative proximity to Petrel had always been coincidental.

“Should I approach the planet so we may start dropping remote satellites?”

Qek had retooled a couple of their gas field probes to act as small communications relays. If Zed and Fixer were on the planet surface, the relays would form a net helping to boost any signal through the upper atmosphere.

“Yeah, let’s do it. The sooner we get back in touch with Fix and Zed, the better.”

“Plotting a course.”

Nessa unbuckled her harness and rose from her seat. “I’m going to go sit with the satellites until we’re ready to start cycling them through the auxiliary ‘lock.”

Launching them by any other means would have required retrofitted apparatuses similar to a missile tube. Fixer could have figured something out. Ryan and Marnie had made suggestions and Qek had been willing to try her hand at the puzzle, but in the end they decided cycling the remotes through the auxiliary airlock was the easiest and most cost-effective solution. And Elias didn’t like the idea of attaching anything resembling a weapon to his ship. He was a peaceful trader. Mostly.

“I’ll be there soon,” he said. “Just going to keep an eye on these scans with Qek for a while.”

Elias unbuckled his own harness, dropped a kiss to Nessa’s cheek and slid into the copilot’s chair. He should have been sitting here all along. Ten minutes later, they had established the fact Leonis Bb had three moons. Qek had pinged two with no result. The third was still some distance away. They’d found no satellites, no debris and no residual ship signatures. They had one quadrant left to scan.

“We’ve got the right system, haven’t we?” Elias asked.

“Yes, though I understand your question. I have confirmed the source of Fixer and Zander’s last message twice. The coordinates are accurate. They were here.”

“Can we get closer to the planet?”

“We need to drop the remotes into a geostationary orbit at forty thousand kilometers. Any closer and our satellites will fall into the atmosphere.”

“But what about us? Can we go in for a closer look? Scan the surface of the planet?”

“I estimate we can get as close as fifteen thousand kilometers.”

A soft chime sounded and one corner of the navigational map lit up. “What’s that?”

Qek’s fingers flew across the console. “I am not sure. It is at the very edge of our sensor range.” The ping lit up the console again and Qek adjusted their course. “I believe it is another ship.”

“How long until you can identify it?”

“Running scans now. It is a small craft, probably not military.”

So it could be the Apex Rapere, the Blythe or someone else. The console flashed and a second signature appeared next to the first.

“Is that a second ship?”

“It appears so.”

“Can we go any faster?”

“I recommend approaching with caution, Captain.”

Bugger caution. To Elias’s mind, the two ships could only be the Blythe and the Apex Rapere.

“I have identified the signatures. One is a Guardian ship. The second is the Blythe.”

The Guardians? What were they doing here?

A wave of unquantified energy passed through the Chaos, toying with his insides in an unsettling manner. Elias should have been used to the way the Guardians greeted all denizens of the galaxy by now. They scanned first, spoke second. The comms panel lit up.

“Human vessel Chaos. Please disengage all engines and reduce power to all systems.”

It was nice to be asked for once. The Guardians often followed up a scan with a hard freeze on all systems, rendering a vessel all but dead in space. But being asked didn’t make Elias any more inclined to follow the request.

Qek beat him to the comms. “Guardians, this is the Chaos. Message received. Proceeding to disengage and shut down as requested.”

Elias shot Qek a glare. Felt wrong, but he was the captain of this tub, damn it. “Are we in comms range of the Blythe?”

“Yes, but—”

Elias’s wallet lit up, ship’s channel. Nessa’s voice floated through. “Was that a Guardian scan?”

“Yeah, hold on a second, Ness.” Elias touched the console. “Blythe, this is Elias Idowu, Captain of the Chaos. I demand the return of my data and information on the whereabouts of the Apex Rapere.”

Another wave of energy passed through the Chaos. The bridge went dark, the ship fell silent and the small lift against his restraint—accompanied by another squelch of his poor gut—informed him they had no gravity.

“Human vessel Chaos, you have been disabled. This is your only warning.”

Warning?

Qek woke her wallet display and pulled up a diagnostic holo. “We have life support and...life support.”

“Nice of them to leave us with air. What the fuck is this all about? Why are the Guardians issuing us warnings?”

Qek opened a second holo display. “We are just close enough for me to continue tracking the two signatures. I do not recommend trying to contact the Blythe again, however. In fact I do not recommend any action other than breathing.”

Nessa arrived on the bridge a moment later, floating, bulky medical wallet held out in front of her. “Did we do something the Guardians didn’t like?”

“I don’t know. Here—” he gestured to the seat behind him “—get strapped in. Qek, can we get power to a forward view screen?”

While Nessa pulled herself back down into her seat, Qek closed her wallet, folded it and fitted it into a slot beneath the main panel. A new holo display opened, this one larger but still limited to wallet functions. Qek opened a series of small displays and fiddled, her fingers moving too quickly for Elias to follow. A moment later, the larger display fizzed, popped and became a replacement forward view screen.

“The power signature is extremely low. The Guardians should consider it negligible,” she reported, her tone just a little smug. Pulling one over on the Guardians was dangerous, possibly stupid, and something to be proud of.

With another series of commands, Qek enhanced the display. Two ships came into view. From this distance, Elias couldn’t tell one from the other. As they watched, one of the ships seemed to shimmer and expand. Then it was gone. Elias blinked at the screen, trying to make sense of the smudge where the second ship had been a second ago.

“Did one of the ships just leave?” Nessa asked.

“No. That is a debris field.” Qek’s face lost its last wrinkle. “The Blythe was just destroyed.”

* * *

Zed pounded around stumpy trees and dodged medium-sized boulders, Flick at his side. His world narrowed to the jolt of his feet on the ground, the burn in his lungs, the sting of branches he couldn’t avoid. He wasn’t moving as fast as he normally would, even without the Zone—his body felt sluggish, slow to respond. Getting caught by the assholes hunting them would be almost a relief. At least they could stop running.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind when something—someone—slammed into him. Zed flew off his feet and thundered to the ground, skidding along the rocks. They bit into his skin, but he couldn’t spare a thought to wonder how badly the fall had torn him up. Flick was shouting—then grunting in exertion, sounds of fighting Zed recognized as he struggled to draw air back into his lungs.

Someone pounced on him—the same person who’d bodychecked him? Zed blocked a punch to his head, then another. The blows were coming faster than they should. Harder. Had to be one of Preston’s soldiers.

Fuck.

“You little prick!” The pain-filled shout echoed through the forest. Not from the guy hitting Zed—from farther away.

“Preston wants him alive and intact.”

Another hit rattled Zed’s brain, stealing whatever response the first guy might have made.

“Zed! Let me go, you fuckers—” Flick’s shout was cut off with a garbled groan.

“Stunned?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Zed dropped into the Zone and phase-shifted out from under the asshole hitting him. He rolled sideways and pushed to his feet, adrenaline and the Zone evening out his breathing, making his vision clear, keeping everything in perspective. The pain and fatigue he’d been feeling drained away—not erased from existence but something he could ignore. Something he would ignore, until his body ceased to work.

Review later.

He jumped at his attacker, one of the ex-AEF guys he’d trained the day before. Fists, arms, elbows, knees, feet—Zed used all of them as he fought to subdue him. The asshole might be well rested and uninjured, but Zed had a wealth of experience on his side. And if eight years of war had taught him anything, it was that experience won over enthusiasm any day.

“Zanderanatolius.”

The whisper in his mind distracted Zed long enough for the asshole to get in a good hit to his jaw. Zed stepped back, shaking his head, and phase-shifted to buy himself a second. The ex-AEF guy didn’t follow, whether it was because he wasn’t confident in it or he didn’t realize he could intercept him, Zed didn’t know.

“Zanderanatolius.”

“Fighting,” he managed to send back. Part of him wanted to know how the Guardians had conquered the planet’s atmosphere. The rest of him was consumed with his battle.

He shifted back into the regular reality behind his attacker and drove his elbow between the guy’s shoulder blades.

“ZANDERANATOLIUS.”

Zed staggered sideways at the force of the mental communication. Something warm seeped over his upper lip—he knew before he’d even swiped a hand over it that it was blood. His attacker hadn’t struck him there, so it was a Guardians-induced nosebleed.

Awesome.

The asshole dove for Zed, but Zed rolled sideways—no phase-shifting this time, he could feel the edges of his ability fraying there—and spun to sling an arm around the guy’s neck. He squeezed and held on, wrapping his legs around the guy as he struggled. The Zone was starting to sputter, but enough of it remained to give Zed the focus he needed, the determination not to let go. The asshole’s struggles grew weaker, then stopped. Zed held on for a moment longer, then let the body drop.

He cast a look around, but there was no one else. Had Preston thought one guy would be enough to subdue him? Maybe the others were guarding her prize: Flick.

“I’m here,” he said, grabbing the Zone tighter. He needed the heightened senses for just a little longer. Closing his eyes, he listened, turning ever so slowly in a circle, trying to pinpoint the direction the other assholes had taken Flick.

“He stabbed me with his fucking fingers!”

“I told you to grab that arm first.”

Got it. Zed reached into his pocket to grab the stunner, only to find it gone. Where? He didn’t have time to waste on a search. A gun lay beside the body at his feet, but a quick check confirmed it was bio-locked and useless. He started after the faint voices.

“An army of Zanderanatolius is not permitted.” The anger that had flared from the Guardians earlier was now simmering, an uncomfortable warmth, but controlled. Beneath it...Was that fear? Jesus Christ, if the Guardians were afraid...

Zed compartmentalized that worry for later review. “It’s a small group. Not all of humanity wants this.”

“It will not be tolerated.”

That proclamation...sounded very final. “What do you want me to do?”

“They must be destroyed.”

Destroyed? As in...murder?

Zed shoved the thoughts aside as he caught up to Flick and his two guards. One of them—another of the big ex-AEF guys—had Flick slung over his shoulder, limp and unresponsive. Even the Zone couldn’t fully hold back the rage Zed felt at the sight. He jumped the guy, slamming his foot into the back of his knee. The asshole stumbled forward and Flick slid from his shoulder to the ground.

The surprise didn’t give Zed the advantage for long. In an instant, the second guard—one of the station rats who could Zone—leaped on his back, trying to get a purchase around his neck. The first guy climbed to his feet, murder in his eyes.

Footsteps presaged new arrivals on the scene. Zed caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye as he scrabbled at the guy hanging off his neck. He recognized Andy and the colonists’ leader, Todd. They had guns.

Goddamn it.

He stopped fighting. The asshole dropped to the ground—then crashed his foot into the back of Zed’s knee. With a grunt, Zed collapsed to his knees.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” the ex-AEF guy growled. Zed noticed he was favoring his side, his black SFT darker in one spot.

Zed raised his hands to his head. Was this it? No—maybe he could wait until Andy got closer, grab the gun. He wouldn’t go down like this. A familiar wash of energy passed through his skin. Eyes widened and postures stiffened as everyone in the clearing felt the intimate brush of a Guardian scan. Zed barely had time to convince his balls that outside was better than in before two simultaneous shots rang out. Both of Preston’s soldiers toppled, dead before they hit the ground. Zed stared at the body of the ex-AEF guy for a moment, then looked up at Todd.

“Kind of tired of these fuckers squatting in my colony,” he said gruffly. “But tickling my gonads with some weird scan is just the withered end.” He stepped forward and offered Zed a hand.

“Zanderanatolius. We have confirmed the presence of the unsanctioned army.”

Yeah, that explained the scan.

Zed grabbed Todd’s hand and levered himself up. He stood quietly for a moment before heading over to check on Flick. His mind raced even as he verified that Flick’s breathing and pulse were steady and strong.

He couldn’t say no to the Guardians. Hell, he didn’t even disagree with them. Meeting in battle was one thing, but premeditating the murder of Preston’s soldiers made his stomach churn.

“Son? You all right?”

Zed brushed his fingers over Flick’s cheek and turned back to Todd. “I’m fine. Thank you for helping.”

“Any clue what Preston’s up to?” Todd shifted, adjusting his balls.

“That scan wasn’t Preston. The Guardians are in orbit.”

Andy’s brows jerked upward. “The Guardians? You mean, the Guardians?”

“You think they’re gonna call someone else the Guardians, boy?” Todd scoffed. “Sounds like you’ve got some more stories to tell. C’mon. I’ve got a place another couple of kilometers down the ravine. Your friend is going to need a while, anyway.”

Zed bent down to pick up Flick, but Andy waved him off. “You look like you’re about set to keel over. I’ve got him.” He handed Zed his laser carbine and hefted Flick over his shoulder with a grunt.

“Right. Let’s get walking,” Todd said. “And you can fill in some blanks, yeah?”

Zed wasn’t entirely sure he could trust Andy and Todd—but they’d trusted him with a weapon, and right now, he didn’t have much of a choice. He heaved in a breath and started talking.

* * *

Paradise seemed a little less like the fifteenth circle of hell after a shower, food not shaped into tasteless gray cubes, and a surprisingly decent cup of coffee. Blowing steam across the top of the delicious brew, Felix surveyed the interior of the cabin. Zed had probably already marked every possible ingress and egress, defensible positions and hidey holes. Wouldn’t have taken him long. The cabin was five meters square. One entrance, one exit. Only place to hide would be under the lower of the two bunks hanging from the side wall, or in the waste/wash cubby tucked into the corner at their end. The galley folded out of storage along the rear wall, and the rest of the space was given over to a table with four chairs and a depressed-looking sofa. It was like every other single-family prefab Felix had ever seen—except it was alone. Colonies usually needed more than two genetic samples to thrive.

Felix regarded Todd again. The man didn’t look to have reached his first century yet, which made him less than middle aged in human terms. A healthy man could live more than a hundred and fifty years with all the proper treatments. The idea of living that long wore Felix out, but he’d had an active couple of decades. Todd was probably around eighty.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a colony, was it?” Felix said.

Todd’s brows lifted and Andy looked questioningly at the older man. Zed gave no reaction at all, which meant he’d already figured it out.

Brows lowering and crooking together, Todd took a moment to prepare his thoughts before answering. Then he shook his head, dipped his chin. “No.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Zed said.

Todd gestured at the galley. “Sure you don’t want some coffee? This might take a while.”

Did they have a while? The Guardians were agitated. Zed hadn’t shared a lot of detail regarding his brief communication with them, but having the peacekeepers of the galaxy upset meant something was going to happen. Had to happen. What was the question.

Andy shifted uncomfortably, then got up to help himself to more coffee. Felix tracked his movement but didn’t pay him much mind. Todd had started talking.

“When you both first showed up, I figured you were something like me. Men who’d served, or done their time as I like to say, and were worn out. I figured maybe you’d heard of Paradise. There’s word out, if you know where to listen.”

Served? Todd was AEF?

As if he’d heard the question, Todd answered, “Sergeant Hendrick Todd, not reporting for duty.”

Felix felt his mouth drop open. “You’re a deserter.”

“In simplest terms, yeah.”

“How would you describe yourself in more complex terms?” Zed’s voice had an edge to it and his posture had changed.

“Tired, defeated, too old for this body but too young to die, suffering from an unknown number of undiagnosed psychoses, and sick to fucking death of looking at the world through a weapon sight. Sick of seeing people die, my friends, my family, the men and women I served with. Sick of feeling like a piece of trash, or worse—flotsam. A byproduct of my environment that’s destined to be tossed against the shore over and over again. Never properly recycled.”

Felix glanced over at Andy, who stood by the open kitchen cubby, hip braced against the counter, fresh cup of coffee in hand. “What about you?”

“Lost my home to the Human-Stin War.” Hence his attachment to Paradise. “I suppose I coulda tried another station, another colony, but the stin were tearing shit down as fast as we could build it. When the AEF weren’t preemptively leveling stuff to make a new battlefield.”

“That only happened once,” Zed growled. “And we evacuated all the colonists we could before...” He shook his head. “We don’t have time to debate the ins and outs of the war, or the AEF.”

“Not enough time in the world for that,” Felix said. A small part of him wanted to spit over his shoulder toward the floor. Show his disdain for something. But the greater part was a whorl of confusion. He held little love for the AEF, but like most former soldiers, had even less empathy for deserters. It could have been his back Todd left unguarded.

Then again, he’d been happy enough to accept his medical discharge, hadn’t he? Regardless of the terms. And if he hadn’t been discharged, he’d probably have found a way to get mustered out. He’d been broken too thoroughly to get back in the fight. So...he did understand.

Todd took a sip from his cup and set it back on the table, right into the faint ring permanently staining the surface. “I came out here alone. Fully expected to die alone too. I brought enough stuff to make sure that happened later rather than sooner, though. This prefab, enough dehydrated crap and substance to last me a hundred years, water...” He waved vaguely. “Bought one of those standard colony-in-a-box kits, right?”

Felix had seen them listed. The idea of buying ten pallets of everything someone thought he might need to see out twenty years or more in a remote location appealed from time to time.

“I was here for six months before my first neighbor showed up. Not AEF, just someone else running from the war. I wasn’t too worried. This place is far enough off the map it’d take determination to get here, plus some serious capital. I figured anyone who made the journey and survived the atmospheric entry was welcome. It’s a big planet.

“Our third colonial was the one who wanted to see this place populated and chartered. She arrived with a horde of kids, all with heads stuffed with some whacked-out religion. Thankfully, the heat sent her packing before she could try to convert us. We weren’t so lucky with the next group, but they arrived with a shit ton of their own equipment. Prefabs and the like. Eventually we got to seeing eye to eye.” Todd aimed a smile at Andy. “Some good folks mixed in with them.”

Before Andy could pick up the story, Zed interrupted. “That’s what Preston has on you, isn’t it? A court martial for desertion.”

“Yup. She showed up about a year ago with a squadron of soldiers and enough heavy equipment to tunnel through the core of the planet if she wanted to. She already had surveys, though. Musta had her eye on this place for years.”

“So much for hidden corners of the galaxy,” Felix muttered.

He eyed Zed, wondering if he’d be able to discourage him from meting out his own form of justice. Zed’s posture remained rigid—no, coiled, as if he were a trap waiting to be sprung—but his expression was thoughtful. Maybe even sympathetic.

“She left shortly after that,” Todd continued. “Was gone for a couple of months, came back, left again. Always brought more of her recruits.”

“Did you know what she was up to?” Felix asked.

Andy opened his mouth and Todd shook his head. “We figured it out soon enough when she invited us to join in.”

Zed looked up at Andy. “You weren’t tempted?”

Andy’s back straightened. “Soldiering ain’t for everyone.”

“Plus she’s mad as a loper after it’s chewed through a battery pack.” Todd put both hands on the table, palms down, one to either side of his coffee cup. “So, you know Preston pretty well, huh? I’m hoping that conversation you all had in the mess the other night means you don’t like what she’s doing any more than I do.”

“You didn’t once think of packing up and leaving?” Felix asked.

“Packing up what? Craft that brought me out here is next to yours at the bottom of that sea.”

“You crashed?”

“Nearly everyone crashes on Paradise, son.”

“But surely some of the ships are salvageable.”

Todd smiled and it wasn’t a happy expression. “There were a couple you could call salvageable. Preston collected those and processed them for scrap. The one working ship we had? It’s in the crater. Preston requisitioned it soon after she arrived.”

“And no comms equipment?” Zed asked.

Todd shrugged. “Wasn’t never a concern. We came out here not to be found.”

“And got trapped by the same thing,” Felix said.

“Pretty much.” Todd leaned back in his chair. “So, the question is, what do you all plan to do about this setup?”

“Before we answer that, I’ve got one more question for you,” Felix said. “Why were you out there to intercept Preston’s soldiers?” Their rescue had been nothing short of miraculous and Felix didn’t believe in the divine.

“Once we heard you’d escaped, we figured the signal towers would be your first stop. What with you being a mechanic and all. We’ve been up there regular-like, keeping an eye out for you.” Todd glanced at Andy.

“So you knew the towers were up there.”

“Sure. But you caught the part about us not wanting to be found, right?”

“We have to shut it all down,” Zed said.

“If Felix can disable the field again—”

“No, the whole program. Preston’s facilities, her soldiers, everything.”

Felix looked up from his half-empty cup of coffee. All of it? “How the fuck are we going to do that? We’ve got one stunner, two rifles—” he nodded toward Todd and Andy’s weapons stacked against the door “—and...that’s it. You’re good, Zed, but you’re not that good. Preston has a small army. A company of you. And she controls the two biggest assets on this rock—the comm towers and the only craft capable of leaving orbit.”

Even as he spoke, Felix started evaluating the problem, though. Rearranging the odds, stacking up the pros and cons, figuring their assets and counting them. Jiggering shit in his mind as any engineer might. If he could get his hands on enough power cells, ordnance wouldn’t necessarily be a problem. But the scope of the operation was beyond him—them—even if they could recruit from Todd’s colonists.

“I’m all for kicking her ass off my planet,” Todd said, “but your friend here is right. We got next to nothing against a super-powered mercenary outfit.”

Zed glanced over at Felix. “We’re going to have to think quick and smart then, because if we don’t take care of this situation, the Guardians will.”

Chapter Seventeen

Elias chewed on his thumbnail. “Any change?”

Nessa reached up and pulled his hand away from his mouth—an action she’d taken at least a half-dozen times over the past four hours—as Qek clicked. “No. We remain dead in the water.” The happy wrinkles that had appeared at her usage of a human idiom smoothed out. “Should I have said ‘dead in space,’ since clearly there is no water around us?”

“No, you had it right,” Nessa assured her with a small smile.

Elias couldn’t help but catalog the worry etched into the tight lines of Nessa’s expression. Her eyes did not sparkle. Her riotous red hair even seemed uncharacteristically tamed. They’d been helpless before but this was a new level of helplessness.

They had no idea what Fixer and Zed were up against, and the aliens Elias had thought were on their side...might not be.

“I never thought we’d get a warning from the Guardians,” he admitted softly.

Qek clicked, the soft tones indicating agreement. “Perhaps it was a good reminder for us.”

“That they could squish us like a bug?”

“Precisely.”

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t try to surreptitiously get power back and drop those satellites.”

“That would be a regrettable choice, I believe.”

“Do you think Zed’s been in contact with them?” Nessa asked.

“If anyone can get through that interference, it would be the Guardians, so maybe?” Elias ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. “God, I just hope they’re okay.”

“We could ask the Guardians if they know.” Nessa’s suggestion was soft, her voice uncertain.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Elias reached over to Qek’s console and triggered the comms. “Guardians, this is human vessel Chaos.”

“Oh shit, Eli,” Nessa whispered, sinking into her chair.

Elias kept breathing steadily through sheer force of will as he waited for the Guardians’ response. Please let it be verbal and not—

“Yes, Chaos?” The Guardians’ computerized voice offered no inflection, merely a flat tone that made it impossible to interpret mood.

“Have you been in contact with Zed? Uh, Zander Anatolius?”

“We have.”

Thank God. “Is he all right? Is Fixer, uh, I mean, Felix Ingesson—is he okay too?”

“They are functional.”

Elias cast a glance at Nessa. Functional was not the same as okay, as far as he was concerned. “Guardians, we have satellites we were going to place in orbit to facilitate communication. May we proceed?”

“No. This planet is under quarantine.”

“Can I ask why the Blythe was destroyed?”

Qek clicked once, a short, sharp sound that echoed over Nessa’s appalled silence.

“You have asked.”

Elias swallowed. Did he dare point out they hadn’t answered? He opened his mouth—

“The experiment being conducted on this planet is not permitted.”

“Oh, we can agree there.”

“You wish to assist Zanderanatolius?”

Elias clenched his fist. “Of course!”

“Acknowledged.”

Acknowledged? What the hell did they mean by that? Elias turned to ask Nessa for her opinion when he felt it—the innards-displacing creep of a scan.

“Elias—” Qek’s clicks held fear, the first and only time he’d heard such uncertainty from his pilot.

And then...there was nothing.

* * *

Zed eyed the holographic representation of the colony that Todd had quickly put together on Flick’s bracelet. All the prefabs were highlighted, along with the tunnel system extending beneath the cliffs. It was...a lot. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“They must be destroyed.”

As always, layers of meaning accompanied the words. Obliterated. Wiped from the galaxy. Erased. The Guardians wanted nothing left that could resurrect this concept.

“They’re not all altered,” he told them.

“They have knowledge—”

Zed slammed his fist against the wall. “No, they don’t!”

Flick looked up from the holo. “You okay?”

“Give me a second.” Holding up a hand, Zed took a few steps back.

“What’s up with him?” Todd murmured as Zed walked away. He tuned them out, uninterested in Flick’s answer.

“Preston has shared very little with her recruits. Some are ex-soldiers, but the others are young. She took advantage of them. Manipulated them.”

“Nothing must remain of this initiative.”

“I can’t kill innocent people!”

“They are not innocent, Zanderanatolius.”

Zed pulled at his hair. “But they are. Some of them, anyway. Total destruction is not the answer!”

“It is the only way.”

“Let the unaltered recruits go. I can take the others into custody,” he pleaded, layering as much meaning into the thoughts and words as he could—they had Morrison, a safe base of operations and containment that could be a comfortable location for the altered soldiers’ last days. “We can—”

“Hold.”

Fuck. Did that mean they were thinking about what he’d said? Or were they done talking? Huffing out a breath, Zed considered the one point he did agree on—Preston had to be stopped. The best way to do that, with their limited resources, was the course of action they’d already started plotting. They had to be smart about it.

He rejoined Andy, Todd and Flick. “How many recruits are we talking about? I was training ten yesterday, but I didn’t recognize one of the guys you shot.”

“There’s...” Todd’s gaze grew unfocused as he tallied the count in his head. “Fifteen? I haven’t seen two for about a month, ever since the last shuttle run.”

Maybe that was the hacker who’d cracked the Chaos and a partner. Whichever, they weren’t Zed’s concern at the moment if they were off-world. “So, thirteen? I had five in my class yesterday who could Zone—”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, when they get a flat stare, kind of robotic, really fast,” Flick inserted.

“Right.” Todd looked a bit uncomfortable at the idea. “I’d say maybe we’ve got eight left on the planet like that. But between us, we killed three of them up at the towers.”

“That leaves five. And I think one of them was on the operating table beside me yesterday,” Flick said with a shudder. “Don’t know if she’ll be recovered enough to fight.”

Okay. So four, possibly five altered recruits to deal with. Plus Preston. Not bad odds, if he could convince the non-altered recruits to run. And the Guardians to let them.

“What have we got that could be used for makeshift ordnance?” Zed asked. “And where are the weak points?”

Flick pointed to a couple of spots on the map. “I didn’t see any data centers when we were in the tunnels, but I think Preston would keep anything sensitive close to the medical facility caves or here, behind her training center.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too,” Zed said.

“Hold on,” Todd growled. “I want Preston off Paradise, but these are damned good resources for the rest of us. Know what season it is right now? Spring. In the summer, we use those caves to get outta the heat. Preston’s excavated a lot more useful space since she got here and she’s got stores we could use in there. Blowin’ them up seems like a waste.”

“We need to consider the egress point.” Zed pointed at the tunnel exit that led to the landing pad and comm towers. “I think that needs to be our first target. Otherwise, they could just scurry out the tunnels to their craft and escape.”

Though they might not get far with the Guardians in orbit.

“Just wait.” Todd slapped his hands through the holo to bang against the table. “This is still my planet.”

Flick snorted. “Hell it is. You’ve got a Guardian ship in orbit. They own this rock now.”

Andy paled, then looked at Todd. “We can make do. We don’t really need none of the stuff Preston’s been hoardin’.”

“But—”

Andy laid a hand on Todd’s shoulder. “Hendrick. We ain’t needin’ it.”

Todd seemed to deflate. “At least let us grab what we can carry.”

“And alert Preston that something’s up?” Zed shook his head. “No. We get in, we lay the charges—or bombs or whatever we can come up with—and we get out.”

Flick was studying the map. “Getting out is going to be an issue if we close off access to the landing pad. Preston’s ships are the only way off this planet.”

“You already know the long way to the crater. Up the ravine and back past the signal towers. Takes a couple hours, dependin’ on the heat,” Andy said.

Flick nodded. “Okay, so we guard that exit, then.”

“I’ll do it,” Todd said. “Y’all don’t need my old bones slowing you down.”

Zed glanced at Flick, seeing his own concern reflected in his green eyes. How trustworthy was Todd? It was all well and good that they seemed to have the same general goal, but the earlier protests about saving the colony’s resources were making him uneasy. When push came to shove, would Todd really be on board with what they needed to do?

Something thumped to the ground outside. Rather than waste time questioning what it might be, Flick, Todd and Andy reached for the weapons. Zed went for the door, the Zone within his reach if he needed it. Flick had his back, while Todd and Andy set themselves up under the windows, ready to rise and fire. Slowly, cautiously, Zed turned the knob and pulled the door open. Outside dusk had fallen, and light from the cabin spilled out onto the three people sprawled on the ground.

“Holy shit—Elias?” Zed stepped aside dazedly as Flick pushed his way past, scrambling to Elias’s side. Zed followed him, skidding to a stop beside Nessa.

“Fuck, oh...fuck,” Elias moaned, clutching his head. “Don’t wanna do that again.”

“Do what?”

Qek clicked as she pushed herself upward, the sound vague and indistinct. Like the ashushk version of slurring. “The Guardians transported us.”

Zed knelt on the ground and held back Nessa’s hair as she retched, his stomach clenching in sympathy. The only times he’d been transported by the Guardians, he’d been unconscious. Seemed like something he should be thankful for.

“But why?” Flick steadied Elias and extended a hand to help Qek get to her feet.

“We said we wanted to help you, so here we are.” Elias looked up at Zed, his eyes dim and bleary. “Yay.”

* * *

To make any sort of bomb, Felix needed three things: explosives, detonators and something to hold it all together. Todd had a cache of supplies near his cabin—enough to last one man a couple of years. He’d given a good portion of what he had to raising the colony he’d never intended. If Felix requisitioned what he needed to make enough charges to collapse the ceilings on Preston’s laboratory and medical facilities, he’d be leaving Todd with very little—especially as creative as he’d have to get. Turning basic sustenance into a bomb wasn’t covered in specialist training.

Felix glanced up from the map he and Qek were studying. “We need to visit the settlement. If I can get my hands on two, three, maybe even four power generators from the prefabs, I could bring the whole mountain down on Preston’s head. I could even make a charge for Todd to drop into the landing crater, seal that exit.”

Studying the overlapping displays projected over his wrist, Qek extended a blue finger toward the map Todd had helped them construct. “The medical facility is also close enough to this junction to cut off immediate access to the landing crater.”

“Yep.” Even if the medical facility wasn’t a strategic target, Felix would want to blow it up.

It was beyond good to have Qek here, even if Felix had had to add another level of fret to his already anxious state. Getting himself and Zed off the planet had been enough of a challenge. Now his whole crew was here. But, damn if he wasn’t grateful to see them. And just as thankful to hear Marnie and Ryan were safe. The fact the Blythe had been destroyed? He didn’t quite know how to process that, except to give in to the occasional shudder as he acknowledged the absolute reality of the Guardians’ threat. They’d already taken the hacker from Chloris and his partner out of the equation. Apparently they considered Preston’s soldiers part of the program, which they were, if you considered knives and forks part of the whole eating thing. Would they insist on...disposing of the soldiers as well? At the end of the Human-Stin War, they’d simply requested that Zed’s team be disarmed, or retired. Surely the same rules could apply here? Felix glanced over at Zed, who’d reluctantly submitted to Nessa’s need to confirm his well-being.

“The Mendo has bonded the bone, but I suspect the dose was out of date,” she was saying. “You need to keep this wrist braced and not rely on it until we can get you another shot.”

“We don’t have time to worry about my wrist right now,” Zed grumbled.

“I’m surprised you can even spare it a thought. Did they tell you you had a concussion?”

“Yes, and I don’t have time for that, either.”

Nessa tucked her hands in against her hips. “You need rest, Zed. Twelve hours minimum. Hell, you both should be confined to Medical for at least a day. How Fixer’s nose isn’t broken, I have no idea.”

Felix tapped the side of his nose and winced as he disturbed one of the bruises on his face. “Unbreakable, remember?”

From where he’d been in conference with Andy and Todd, Elias looked up and snorted.

Nessa had also been concerned about his shoulder and missing finger. She’d numbed the healing incisions, muttering all the while about Preston’s barbarism, but agreed regrowing his finger could wait for now.

“We don’t have twelve hours. Hell, we don’t even have one to waste. When this is done, I’ll hole up in Medical for as long as you deem necessary. You can confine Flick and me to quarters for a month if you like.” Zed tried out a charming smile. It came off a little wonky and a lot weary.

Nessa shook her head. “Save it for Fixer.”

Andy glanced over at Felix. “That you she’s callin’ Fixer?”

“Felix, Fixer, Fix, Flick. All me.”

“Must get mighty confusing.”

“Not really. It’s all F for Fucker.” Grinning at Andy’s upraised brows, Felix made his way over to Zed and showed him the marked-up holo map, explaining what he needed from the settlement and why. “The bigger I make these bombs, the less fussy we can be about where I put them.”

“We don’t have—”

Felix overrode the objection he’d anticipated. “We need to make time, Zed. Like Ness said, you could use a rest. Eat, sleep, get mended and fit for this op. I’ll take Andy and Elias back to the settlement now, while it’s still dark, and we’ll grab what we need. In and out. I don’t even need to bring the generators back here.” He turned to address Andy and Todd. “You mentioned other caves. Is there one between here and there I can hole up in for thirty minutes to tinker with a couple generators?” Before Zed could open his mouth again, Felix continued, “A forward operating base. Somewhere we can use as a rally point. We’re too far away here anyway.”

Breath left Zed in an irritated rush, meaning he agreed with Felix’s last statement, if only that.

Andy ambled forward and poked at the map. “Here.” He’d indicated a spot about a kilometer along the ravine from the settlement. “There’s a small cave here. Shallow, not connected to Preston’s. Scraggler nest right outside it, though. We cleared it three times but they always come back.”

“Fuck.”

“What is a scraggler?” Qek asked.

Felix lifted his chin to show off the welt around this neck. “Tentacle things with personal space issues.”

“And you call this place Paradise?” Elias said.

Todd shrugged. “It’s all relative.”

Zed was being quiet...too quiet. Felix turned to check on him and frowned at the crease between his brows. He touched the back of Zed’s hand. “Thinking too hard.”

Zed met his gaze. “Tired.”

“So rest.”

“No time.”

Back to the time issue. “Guardians are bullies.”

Zed barely cracked a smile.

“Do they do this often?” Todd asked.

Nessa looked between Felix and Zed and smiled. “You get used to it. You guys want to share the conversation with the rest of us?”

“Tell ’em we’re working on it,” Felix said. Andy opened his mouth. Felix pointed up. “Them.”

“What all are you goin’ on about?”

Zed closed his eyes and breathed out. The crease between his brows deepened and his lips moved—once. He didn’t have to close his eyes and he didn’t have to verbalize. But speaking with the Guardians did require a lot of concentration, particularly when asking the big questions. When he opened his eyes, he looked even more tired. “The unaltered recruits can be spared. The others—” He bit off a curse.

Felix frowned. The unaltered...”Wait—”

Zed cut him off. “If a single craft leaves this planet before Preston’s operation is shut down, they will destroy it, whether we’re aboard or not.” Just like the Blythe. “They’ve given us until both suns rise in the morning.”

“Stop, just stop.” Felix patted the air in front of him. “What do you mean the unaltered ones?”

Zed gave him a look that said don’t ask me to explain.

“We’re gonna blow up the mountain with Preston’s soldiers inside?” Andy asked.

“Now, wait a minute.” Todd stood up. “That ain’t what we agreed to.”

Qek uttered a pair of clicks and stepped back. Nessa found something interesting to look at on her wallet. Elias adopted a ready stance. Thoughts whirling, Felix stared at his boots.

Zed spoke quietly into the pause. “If we don’t do this, they will.” He met Todd’s gaze. “Now’s the time to say so if you’re gonna pull out.”

Todd laced his hands behind his head and paced the length of the cabin. He turned and walked back to stand directly in front of Zed. “It’s bullshit orders like this that drove me out of the AEF.”

Felix clenched his fists, pushing them into his thighs. “I don’t have time to tell you how many ways the AEF fucked me and Zed over. But it was your choice to leave and if you’re going to duck out again, you need to tell us now.” Not when our backs need guarding. “I don’t like it. I fucking hate it. Preston’s soldiers are dupes. They might not be innocent, but you can bet she conned them into her program. If we don’t follow the Guardians’ instructions, though...” He took a quick breath. “Do you have any idea what they’re capable of? Besides smearing the Blythe across space? Besides...”

Felix glanced at Zed. He’d been spared last time, but only because of who he was. The Guardians had refused to help his teammates. Was it because they had known this might happen? His shoulders slumped. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe the only way to shut this thing down is to destroy all of it.” Fuck, had he really just said that? Had he really just voted to kill men and women who’d been fooled by Preston’s twisted idea of glory?

Todd looked over his shoulder at Andy, and they conducted the sort of silent conversation any two people who spent enough time together could—without the aid of resonance shards. Todd turned back to Felix, then Zed. “We already pulled the trigger up the hill there, didn’t we? When we killed two of Preston’s people.” He let out a tired sigh. “Okay...we’re in. To the end.”

A collective exhale whispered quietly through the cabin as postures eased. Over by the wall, Nessa moved her hand away from the hypo at her belt. Any other time, Felix might have smiled. Instead, he checked his bracelet. They had six hours. It’d be tight, but he’d been given less time to do more with fewer supplies. “So can I go get my generators?”

Zed touched the back of their hands together. Their minds brushed up against one another, thoughts mingling. It was a confused exchange, as if they were arguing...but not. Beneath the messy stuff lay a single phrase. Thank you. Felix didn’t know if he wanted Zed’s gratitude. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could send back the fact he understood. All he had was a sick swell of fear. He moved his hand away.

Zed breathed out something like a small sigh. “Go get the generators.”

Chapter Eighteen

“So this deal with the Guardians...”

Felix shook his head at Andy. “It’s a long story.” He turned back toward the settlement, a hundred meters distant and almost thoroughly cloaked by night. The lights at the corners of the prefabs barely penetrated the darkness.

“They got anything to do with Project Dreamcatcher?” Andy asked.

“Other than the fact they disapprove? No.”

“And Zed talks to them?”

Elias cut in. “He’s their emissary. Where have you been?”

“They don’t get a lot of news out here,” Felix said.

“They really gonna blow this place up if we don’t shut Preston down?” Andy asked.

Felix liked Andy. On another world, at another time, he could imagine befriending him. Simple men made easy companions. Now, however, he had only one word for him. “Yes.”

Apparently sensing his frustration, or just his thoughts, Elias launched into a description of exactly what had happened to the Blythe.

Spotting movement near the fence, Felix shushed his companions. “We need to continue this discussion later.” Or not. Felix would prefer not to discuss the Guardians at all, but had a feeling he and Zed would be having a very detailed conversation about them anyway. When this was all done. When they were confined to quarters by Nessa’s orders.

The patrol—two figures, both armed—disappeared back around the end of the last prefab. Felix glanced at the small display over his wallet. “Okay, that’s the third pass. I think that’s enough to establish a pattern.”

“We’ve got ten minutes before they come around again,” Elias murmured.

“Is that enough time?” Andy asked. He’d been rattled by the appearance of the first patrol, but had quickly conceded Preston wasn’t stupid enough to leave her back unguarded. Not with Zed and Felix at large.

“It’s enough time to get in. We might have to wait for another pass before getting back out.” Which would leave their ingress exposed. The fence was full of holes and tears, some bigger than others. The patch Andy had suggested they try was an inferior grade of wire latched over the hole—they should be able to hook it back in place. “Let’s go.”

Felix shifted his ankle in his boot, a gesture of habit, and smiled grimly as the hilt of his knife rubbed across the bone. Todd and Andy’s allegiance might still be in question, but the return of his knife had gone a long way toward evening the score between them. Todd had also equipped them with charged stunners and backpacks to carry the power generators. They slid out from behind the rock and made their way to the section of fence Andy had marked. Conveniently, it was in the shadow of the cliffs, giving them even more cover for their approach. Felix led his party forward slowly, wary of the uneven ground, just as wary of the seconds ticking past. But a twisted ankle would slow them down even more and he had enough aches and pains to deal with already.

The lights hanging from the prefabs seemed to glow brighter the closer they got—and the ground fell deeper into shadow. “I hope we don’t have to run out,” he muttered.

“Light will be behind us then,” Elias pointed out.

To a point, except in the vicinity of their own shadows.

The patch was exactly as Andy had described it—a chunkier, cheaper grade of metal wire, woven and latched onto the finer mesh with a series of easily manipulated hooks. Between them, he and Andy had the patch off in two minutes, leaving them six to get through the hole and into hiding. Not enough time to grab the generators and run, but they could hook the patch back in place using a couple of latches, concealing a faster exit for later.

Felix led a short jog behind the closest prefab and ducked into the shadowed side of it so he could activate his holo map. Andy had marked three prefabs as the easiest to get into. Their immediate shelter wasn’t one of them, but they were in the right row.

The first prefab on the list was locked.

“It’s not supposed to be locked,” Andy hissed.

Felix studied the panel outside the door. “Is there a general passcode?”

“It’s probably been changed,” Elias whispered.

“Shit.” This was going to add time and increase their chance of exposure. Sighing, Felix activated his wallet and ran a quick diagnostic. He pushed out more air when he realized the hack would be simple. “Okay, we should be good.”

Thirty seconds later, the panel flashed green. Elias had already scanned the prefab for heat signatures to determine it was unoccupied, but Felix still pushed the door open slowly and listened for a beat before letting anyone inside.

Andy led the way to the power setup, and Felix eyed the battery connected to the solar array and the backup generator with healthy interest. They were in better condition than he’d expected. New models, more compact. He didn’t need the battery, but...

No, better not to improvise now. Just grab the generator and move on. He unhooked the auxiliary power couplings and hefted the generator. “Elias?”

Elias turned and Andy opened the pack on Elias’s back. Felix tucked the compact generator inside and zipped it up. “One down, three to go.” Andy had volunteered to carry the fourth one out while Felix and Elias handled the weapons.

They had one minute to make it to the second prefab before the patrol passed again. “We should wait until they pass.”

“We’re probably going to have to let two passes go by before we make our exit,” Elias said.

“We’ll see.”

Andy had opened a storage cabinet and was wrestling out a box of packaged ‘factor substance. He set it down and pulled out another, stacking it on top.

“What are you doing?” Felix asked.

“How ’bout if I run this to the fence while you and Elias hit up the next unit?”

“That’s not the plan.”

“It’s right here.” Andy pulled out another box and Felix began to suspect he’d marked this unit on purpose. It was obviously storage, and the question of what they kept in here had just been answered. “If you pull this mountain down, there mightn’t be a lot left of the settlement. We need this food, man.”

Felix’s resolve wavered. A more thorough survey of the cave system would help him place his bombs with minimal risk to the settlement outside, but they didn’t have that kind of time...and Andy was right. The remaining colonists might need this food. Zed had been adamant about them not bringing out supplies, though. Was that because of the increased risk, the shortage of time, or...Surely the Guardians would leave the colony alone if they solved the Preston problem?

Remembering the haunted yet urgent look in Zed’s eyes as he spoke about the Guardians’ ultimatum, Felix gave a stiff nod. “Okay, but if you get caught—”

“I can take care of myself.”

“What about the generators you’re supposed to carry?”

“I’ll meet you by the third marked prefab,” Andy said.

The lock on the second unit gave way as quickly as the first. It was more storage and as he crept toward where the generator and battery were housed, Felix wondered if Andy would want them to empty these cabinets too. He hoped not. He felt for the colonists in a way he couldn’t explain. The idea of home had been so vague for so long, he could almost see himself joining a group like this, shitty location aside. To be out of the way, living by his own rules. To be stuck somewhere he couldn’t easily abandon. A slower pace. Not an easier life, but a less complicated one.

Zed wouldn’t want to be so far from his family, though. Even the asteroid was too far from Alpha to consider as a permanent base.

Elias put the generator in Felix’s backpack. It was lightweight enough not to slow him down as they made their way to the third unit. Felix had just popped the lock when he heard voices—Andy and someone else.

Double shit.

Stepping back from the door, Felix cocked his head to listen for anything other than voices. He could hear noise near the center pavilion and over where the mess hall was. A murmur of conversation. The regular patrol would mean the whole settlement was alert and on edge.

He listened for Andy again, and heard nothing. Not comforting. He checked his wallet. They had six minutes until the next patrol. “Let’s check the fence.”

Elias fell in behind him as he jogged down the dark passage behind the prefabs and back toward the fence, backpack bouncing against his shoulders. There, half hidden, he could see Andy talking to someone in a low whisper. Felix thought it might be Dayne. She seemed to be the only colonist who habitually carried a rifle. Andy saw him and pointed.

What the fuck?

The stranger began to turn around.

Triple shit.

* * *

Moonlight managed to crack through the ever-present cloud cover, muted and unreliable, but better than nothing. It meant they didn’t have to fire up their wallets and risk the light attracting unwanted attention, so Zed would take it. The cave looked like any other cave at night—dark, foreboding, mysterious. It was about one klick from the settlement, far enough to be outside any patrols, close enough that it made a decent staging area. A large boulder sat near the mouth, a natural sentry. Zed and his team hid in the trees about thirty meters away and between them and the cave mouth, there was no other growth—no bushes, no dead vegetation on the ground. If he was starting to read the terrain correctly, that meant it was ideal scraggler territory.

So yeah...a good spot for Flick to do his bomb-making shit, if they could encourage the tentacles to go play elsewhere.

“How deep is the cave?” Zed murmured to Todd, who was situated at his right.

“‘Bout ten, fifteen meters. Deep enough that if we tuck ourselves in the back, no one’s gonna see us.”

So in case a patrol did venture out this far, they might still avoid detection. Good. “Does the scraggler—scragglers—” Plural or not? What-the-fuck-ever, not like it mattered. “Are they inside the cave, too, or just out here on the approach?”

“Both.”

“So we’re talking actual tentacles,” Nessa said, her naturally pale complexion even whiter than usual. “Not vines or...something that looks like tentacles?”

“Like there’s a giant octopus under the rock,” Zed confirmed.

“Thought about calling the bastards rocktopus.” Todd shrugged. “Didn’t stick.”

“Dear God,” Nessa whispered. “I mean, we’ve seen some weird stuff, but...” She shuddered.

Zed pressed his left hand to her shoulder, ignoring the twinge of pain from his not-quite-Mendo’d wrist. “We’ll be okay.”

“If one starts wavin’ near you, grab it and give it a real hard twist.” Todd demonstrated, making a vicious motion with his hands. “A few jolts like that, and it’ll take off.”

“I am curious, Mr. Todd,” Qek said, clicking. “Is it a creature underneath the soil with multiple appendages, or is each appendage an individual? Perhaps they are independent organisms bound by a singular network, if they react in unison to stimuli that affects only a handful of them?”

“Ain’t no biologist,” Todd said. “No call to study ’em or understand ‘em. Just needed to know enough to avoid ‘em.”

And to know if they were edible. In Todd’s place, Zed would have checked, just to be sure—it was part of his survival training. Anything you could do to stretch out your rations was a good thing.

“Near as I can tell, they’ve got sensors of some sort to detect movement,” Todd continued. “So there’s no sneaking by. Running will make ’em that much more aggressive, though, so just be casual.”

“Casual,” Nessa muttered. “Right.”

They left their cover—Zed in the lead, Nessa and Qek in the middle, and Todd bringing up the rear—and started for the cave. As Todd had instructed, Zed kept the pace even and steady. Not slow, not rushed. Just as if he was walking down the promenade on Alpha Station.

You know, if tentacles might suddenly appear out of Alpha’s side alleys.

Because he was watching for it, waiting for it, Zed didn’t miss the signs of the incoming scraggler. The slightest rumble, a soft scratching sound—and tentacles suddenly surrounded them.

Nessa screamed and slapped one of the waving appendages—given how nervous she’d been earlier, Zed couldn’t blame her. The tentacle reached for her, its suckers flexing as it sought out something to grab. His hands flew out to wrench it, as Todd had demonstrated. Just as his fingers made contact, a high-pitched almost-screech reverberated throughout the clearing.

Fuck. He thanked God he hadn’t slipped into the Zone yet—with his enhanced senses, that sound would have been incapacitating. Resisting the urge to cover his ears, Zed twisted the tentacle, then looked around for the source of the noise.

It was Qek.

One by one, the tentacles wavered and toppled, lying on the ground, twitching, before being dragged back beneath the rock. Zed winced as Qek’s noise continued until each tentacle was gone, as though they’d never appeared in the first place.

“Had no idea ashushk could make a ruckus like that,” Todd said gruffly, his forehead creased with what was probably pain, if Zed’s own headache was anything to go by.

Qek’s clicks were soft, gentle now. “I apologize if I caused discomfort, but I surmised that that approach might be the most effective at encouraging the scragglers to leave.”

“How the hell did you know how to do that?” Nessa asked.

“There is a similar organism on—” Qek’s Standard English dissolved into syllables and clicks Zed recognized as the name of her homeworld, but could never pronounce himself. There was a reason why the ashushks’ home planet was called Ashushk Prime by the rest of the galaxy. “It is both flora and fauna, and uses disembodied vinelike limbs that have a central nervous system to trap its prey. It can be particularly dangerous to young ashushk, so we are taught from an early age how to repel it.”

“Well...” Zed eyed their now lifeless surroundings. “It worked.”

“Nice trick. Not real subtle, though.” Todd cast a meaningful glance at Zed.

True. If any of Preston’s people were on patrol and heard that, they’d come running. Zed and his little team needed to get out of sight. Quick.

* * *

“Stay here.” Nudging Elias behind him, Felix unshouldered his pack, dropped it to the ground and strode quickly to the fence.

It was Dayne and she looked him up and down before leaning out sideways to peer around him. “Who you got stashed back there? Loop or Zander or whatever the fuck you wanna call him? Mr. Super Soldier. He’s got a bounty on his head, you know. Both do.” She rocked back to wink at Andy. “I’d offer to split it with ya, but I’m a little confused as to why it looks like you’re stealing supplies. You cutting out on us, Andy?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. ’Cept I can’t steal what I already own.”

Felix held up his hands in the universal don’t-shoot-just-listen gesture. “Look the other way for five minutes and we’ll be gone.” He cocked his head toward where Elias was hiding. “If you know anything about Preston’s research, then you know Zed can blow through you without taking a breath.”

Andy shot him a quick look and Felix shrugged.

Dayne looked between Andy and Felix. She turned to Andy. “What’s the deal? You guys got a ship?”

Felix held his breath.

Andy shook his head. “Nah, I’m just tired of living under Preston’s thumb. Hendrick and I are setting up at the old site for a while.”

Nice one. Maybe Andy wasn’t as simple as he pretended.

“With them two?” Dayne pointed her rifle at Felix. “How long do you all think you’re gonna last out there?”

“We were doing fine before she came along.”

“Well, she’s here now and she’s gonna come looking for them two at least.”

Felix interrupted. “Patrol is due around that corner in about a minute. Can we take this discussion elsewhere?” Did they have time to move the boxes outside the fence and fix the mesh? “And can you stop pointing that thing at me?”

Miracle of miracles, Dayne eased the barrel away from him, but continued to hold the rifle in both hands. “I wanna know what you got going on that’s better than what Preston is going to give us.”

“I didn’t come out here to enlist,” Andy said. “I don’t wanna be a soldier, never did. I just wanna live out here, my own way. No rules, no taxes and no fricking guards hemming me in. This is my food and this is my planet. I’m gonna pick up my boxes and go live where I please.”

Back of his neck prickling, Felix glanced over his shoulder and saw the outline of the guards on patrol coming around the corner. Fuck. “Sorry,” he muttered, reaching forward to grab Dayne’s rifle with both hands. As he gave it a quick, downward yank, he prayed she’d react predictably. She did, tightening her grip. Felix stopped pulling and pushed instead. The rifle barrel snapped upward, catching Dayne beneath the chin. Whether it knocked her off her feet or not, her balance was seriously disturbed. She fell backward, dropping the rifle. Felix reached for the stunner at his belt.

From a half crouch, Dayne held up both her hands. “It’s too late, they’ve seen us.”

Suspecting a trick, Felix resisted the urge to check. He didn’t need to. He could hear the rhythmic footfalls of two men fast approaching. Fuck and all the fucks. Before he could turn and pull the stunner out of its holster, Dayne rocked to her feet and caught his arm. “I’ve got this.”

“How in—”

Dayne overrode him, speaking rapidly and quietly. “If you don’t want to revisit that deep dark hole Preston put you in, let me do the talking.”

The guards were on top of them. There was no time for another plan.

Dayne grabbed his elbow and called out quietly. “Look who I found trying to steal some food.”

Trying to jerk his elbow out of her grasp wasn’t all an act. Felix fought panic and confusion. What was Dayne up to? And what about Andy—could he really trust the guy?

One of the guards was a big guy. Just looking at him had Felix feeling as if a scraggler had him about the ribs. The other stayed back, face hidden by the deep shadows. The big guy jogged forward, lifting his wrist. Felix caught sight of the familiar creases between his brows and around his eyes—and the gleam of a military-style bracelet on his wrist—before he was shoved hard from behind. He fell into the guard, catching him by surprise. As he stumbled forward, Felix grabbed the wrist with the bracelet and pulled down. He felt Dayne moving in behind him and heard a crack and grunt as something—a rifle stock?—connected with something else. Like a head.

The guard didn’t go down. A third body joined the crush, Andy moving up behind so that the three of them were clustered around the one guard. A meaty arm hooked around the guard’s neck. Andy’s. Felix jabbed short, sharp punches at the guard’s front, hoping to keep him distracted enough he’d forget how to shift...or something. The guard tried to retaliate with sweeping blows, but didn’t have the room to wind up.

“My belt,” Felix said to Dayne, afraid if he stopped taunting his opponent, he’d lose control of the fight. A lucky elbow caught him under the jaw. The taste of copper flooded Felix’s mouth as he bit his tongue, and the stars danced overhead, just for a second. One more blow like that and he’d be joining Zed in the concussion club.

Light flared briefly as a stun charge crackled through the cacophony of grunts and groans. The backlash stung Felix’s hands. He jerked away. The guard crumpled to the ground. Turning, Felix saw Elias had already got the drop on the second guard with his stunner. That Elias had been able to catch one of Preston’s recruits unaware left an unsettled feeling in Felix’s gut. These men didn’t need Zed to train them. They needed not to be part of Preston’s insane project. Not pumped full of stin poison and driven to actions beyond their bodies’ ability to cope.

Felix surveyed the men—both unconscious—two generators, a pile of supplies by a hole in the fence and Dayne—who might possibly be a bigger problem than all the rest combined.

“Okay, wanna tell me what’s going on?” she asked. She eyed Elias. “And who’re you?”

Elias glanced at Felix. Felix shrugged. Elias turned his attention back to Dayne. “I’m a friend of Fix’s.”

“Should I even ask how you got here?”

Elias shuddered. “Please don’t.”

Andy straightened. He’d been checking the guards’ belts for weapons. Curiously, they only had stunners. More of Preston’s training techniques or had she simply wanted to guarantee they were brought in alive? “You know Preston’s bounty ain’t worth shit, Dayne.”

“I know, I know. Why the hell else d’you think I just stunned one of her guards. For a super soldier, he sure didn’t move fast.”

“She’s pushing them too hard and they’re...” Felix swallowed.

“Either the guy I took down wasn’t part of the program, or he was really far gone,” Elias said. “I’m thinking he was just a recruit, though. Even on Ashushk Prime, Zed could have taken me.”

Felix closed his eyes briefly.

“What are you all talkin’ about?” Dayne said.

“Ever taken a close look at the men and women Preston is experimenting on? What they look like after training? Or after they’ve been in the program for a while? What she’s doing doesn’t work.” Anger built a fire in Felix’s chest. “She’s killing them for an experiment that already failed.”

“Fix.” Elias put a hand on his arm. “We don’t have time for this.”

Jesus, Joseph and Mary.

Felix sucked in a breath that caught in his throat. He tried again. Ten, nine, eight...When he got to one, he breathed out. “Are you with us?” he asked Dayne.

“I think I already demonstrated that.” She glanced at Andy. “We need to talk.” Andy opened his mouth. “Later. Okay, what do we do with these sleeping piles of shit?”

“Lock them in one of the prefabs.” Felix held up a hand to forestall any objections. “I’m so sick of this project being a death sentence for everyone involved.”

Dayne’s eyebrows rose, but she nodded and moved to comply.

Having no patrol did not free up the time constraint. At some point, someone would miss seeing these guys on their regular circuit. Felix set Dayne and Elias to binding their captives and securing them in the first unlocked prefab. He and Andy hauled the crates of supplies beyond the fence and ducked back for the other two generators. Then Felix locked every door they’d unlocked and sealed them with an extra sequence to slow down anyone without a good series of hacks. He and Andy had just finished hooking the mesh back across the hole in the fence when they heard voices approach.

“Go.” Felix waved Elias, Andy and Dayne back. “Grab as many boxes of substance as you can and go.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Got everything you need?” Zed’s voice was gruff, but he couldn’t help it. His heart had started beating normally again once Flick jogged up well behind Elias, Andy and their new buddy, Dayne—but for a few seconds there, when Flick had been nowhere in sight, he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Flick made a humming noise, focused on the loot spread out on the cave floor. They’d found a relatively flat spot for him and Qek to get their engineer on, but Zed knew it couldn’t be comfortable for Flick to be sitting on cold rock, hunched over like that. His battered bones had to be protesting the chill and the position. Then again, they’d been so long without everyday creature comforts, what was one more ache?

“We seem to have everything we need, Zander,” Qek said, her face wrinkling. “Thank you for checking in.”

Flick huffed out a breath and pushed aside the generator he was working on dismantling. “I couldn’t do it, Zed.”

Zed frowned. Hard. “I thought you said you could make what we needed with—”

“No. Yeah, I can, but that’s not what I mean.” His worried green gaze caught Zed’s. “He was...like you were. Kind of.”

“Who?”

“There was a patrol. Two guards. One of them was like you, when we went to Ashushk Prime.” He paused, letting those words sink in. “These soldiers she’s making...they’re already broken.”

“I know.”

Preston’s altered recruits might not be degenerating in the same way he and his teammates had, but they were definitely going downhill faster.

“And you’re still going to do this?”

“I tried to argue. Told them I could take the soldiers into custody, set them up on Morrison. They...” He shook his head. “I don’t have a choice.”

Flick’s fingers were busy pulling threads along the seams of his pants. “I locked one in a prefab. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him.” He glanced up, face pale but for the furious glint of his eyes. “Aren’t the Guardians supposed to be all about choice? That’s what they told you.”

A respect for free will was the reason the Guardians did not try to control the galaxy, even though they had the technology and the power to do so. Instead, they watched and waited, wanting to see what choices the other races made—only stepping in when conflicts got too far out of hand.

But this time...

“Not in this.” Zed scrubbed a hand through his hair. “If they were anything close to human, I’d say they were freaking out.”

Flick swore.

Zed cast a look toward the mouth of the cave, where Elias was meeting with Todd and Andy about strategy. The three of them were speaking in low tones and trying to make it look as though they weren’t listening to Zed and Flick’s conversation. He should be over there, ironing out the last details, not arguing about shit he couldn’t change.

“It’s not up for negotiation. They’re being very...firm.” How else could he describe the sense that continuing to argue would not be beneficial to his health? He’d never felt as though the Guardians were a danger before, even if he knew, intellectually, that they could be. Their motivations were still a complete mystery, even to him.

Being ordered around like this by beings he respected—had respected?—hurt more than he wanted to admit.

“Couldn’t we—”

“You think I want to do this?” Zed snapped. “I didn’t work with any of these people, but you’re right, they’re like me. Don’t you think I know that when they’re gone, that’s it?”

“Zed—”

“If we don’t act, they will erase this colony. All of it. So yeah, I guess I’ve got a choice. We can hide out here until dawn and watch whatever the Guardians plan to do, and lots of extra people can die. Or I can commit murder.”

“It’s not murder.”

“That’s not what you were implying a minute ago.”

Flick shoved to his feet and took a step toward Zed. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Why not? We all know that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to infiltrate Preston’s settlement with the intent to kill people. That’s premeditation. That’s murder.”

“No, just stop right there.”

“Probably just as well you said no to marrying me, right?”

Flick glared, then lunged for Zed, pushing him back against the cave wall. Zed braced for—something. A slap, a hard knock, something. He knew he’d been pushing, saying stupid shit, but he was tired. More than that, he was bone-deep scared. Not only of what they were going to do in the next few hours and how very many ways it could all go wrong, but of what it meant.

He was a soldier. He’d been in covert ops. He was no stranger to nasty orders—he’d carried out enough. Hell, he’d given more than a few. But that was war. Ruthlessness had been a survival tactic. Tough, morally questionable decisions had been a part of his daily life—more than he’d wanted them to be, but war didn’t often leave personal honor intact. He’d come to terms with that years ago.

But this? They weren’t at war. They didn’t have an enemy unit moving in, forcing them to take desperate measures. This was the Guardians and their fucking unknowability. He was completely, utterly in the dark, carrying out an order he found morally reprehensible, because they hadn’t left him with a choice.

He needed Flick to back him up on this—but he didn’t know if he wanted Flick to. This was his pile of shit. His problem.

Some of those thoughts must have trickled across their connection. Flick pressed up against him, chest to knee, and angled his chin so Zed could feel his breath on his cheek and ear. He panted softly, as if struggling with something, then ducked his head—burying his face in the crook of Zed’s shoulder and neck. Emotions skipped from Flick’s skin to Zed’s—fear and a small flare of hurt, understandable after the argument, both underscored by love and a need to understand. Zed shuddered, his breathing ragged.

Flick pulled away without a word, without another look, and went back to working on his generators.

* * *

Half an hour later, Zed tried not to acknowledge the spike of fear as he watched Flick leave with Qek and Andy to head back toward the settlement. If they used the same hole in the fence, they could hug the cliff wall until they got to the caves. Once inside, they’d begin laying out Flick’s bombs. Ness and Todd had already left since they had a longer distance to travel, up and out of the ravine to approach the landing crater from the rear.

Zed’s plan was pretty simple—hide in the open and create a distraction that would get Preston’s attention while Flick’s team planted the bombs. They’d discussed Zed and Elias heading into the settlement with Dayne in advance, clearing out some of the guards, but decided that was too risky. If their half of the mission failed, they’d alert Preston and her people to the action underway. Zed just had to hope if Felix met any guards, he’d do what he had to.

“He’ll be okay,” Elias murmured at Zed’s shoulder.

Part of him wanted to acknowledge Elias’s confidence in Flick’s skills. The rest of him didn’t want to jinx Flick. Zed stayed silent.

“Time to go. We got a schedule to keep.” Dayne double-checked the zip ties around their wrists and stepped to the side.

Zed tested the bindings. They were snug enough to look secure, but not so tight he couldn’t move his hands if he needed to. In the Zone, it would be a simple thing to break the restraint.

“They’re a little tight,” Elias said.

Both Dayne and Zed snorted—then they shared a smile. Zed was about eighty percent sure they could trust the colonists who had chosen to help them, but he figured he could actually get to like Dayne, given a chance.

Zed bumped Elias’s shoulder with his own. “Suck it up, Captain.”

Smiling, Dayne picked up her carbine rifle and nodded at the path before them.

The settlement’s gate came into view within about twenty minutes, just as they’d planned. Zed tensed up, waiting for some sign that they’d been spotted.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Dayne! Shit, that you?”

Dayne gave Zed a shove forward. He purposely stumbled, making it look as if she’d hit him harder than she had. “Yeah, it’s me,” she shouted. “Look what I caught.”

The guard cranked open the gate. “Where’ve you been? We’ve been trying to raise you, or Todd—”

“Whatever, Ricky. Main thing is, I tracked these two down.” She shot him a triumphant grin. “That bounty is all mine.”

Ricky looked at Zed and Elias, then back to Dayne. “How the hell...?”

“Amazing how many men will do anything you ask rather than risk having their balls blown off.” Dayne winked.

Ricky paled. “Y-yeah. Right. So, uh...you gonna take them to see Preston?”

“Yeah. Wanna help?” When Ricky hesitated, Dayne rolled her eyes. “C’mon, man, the lopers won’t be out until later, and it’s not like there’s anyone else out there we need to watch for. Unless another ship crashed. Is that why you were looking for me?”

“Nah, we found Mahavir and Ling locked in a prefab. Knocked out.”

“No shit?” Dayne poked Zed’s shoulder. “You two do that?”

Zed was glad to hear the soldier Flick had disabled had been found, though—made his job a little easier.

A little.

“Preston’s losing her mind.” Ricky moved up beside Elias, then paused. “I thought the second guy was blond?”

Zed tensed. Todd had assured them that not everyone had been in the mess when they’d been brought in the first time, only a few of the more senior people, so their appearances weren’t widely known. Two strangers was what they’d been told, and that’s who Dayne had in zip ties.

Dayne made a noise of disbelief. “I think you’ve been smoking up too much.”

“Shit!” Ricky leaned in. “Don’t say that too loud, okay? I don’t want anyone raiding my stash.” He grabbed Elias’s arm and jerked him forward. “C’mon. Hey, about that bounty, you won’t forget I helped out, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember.”

Zed was surprised when Ricky led them behind the prefabs instead of directly through the center of the settlement. Guess he didn’t want to split the bounty any more ways. There were no guards at the cave entrance. Zed shared a significant look with Elias. Had Flick and Andy taken them out, or was something else going down? He didn’t dare look for the bomb Flick’s team was supposed to have left there.

Then they were in the caves, walking through a nearly familiar series of tunnels and into the area Preston used to train her recruits. They rounded the door into the gym, Dayne giving him another shove for show. A quick glance told him Preston and her remaining soldiers were all present, including four who could Zone that he recognized from his training session. They stood at attention as Preston fiddled with her medical wallet. A pair of the recruits sported bruises on their faces—they must be the two Flick and Elias had fought earlier. Ling was probably the smaller guy with Asian features, which meant Mahavir was one of the ex-AEF soldiers Zed had trained the day before. Where was the fifth Zone-capable recruit Flick had referred to? Was she in the medical wing, recovering?

“Look what I’ve got,” Dayne announced, maintaining the ruse to keep suspicions at bay for as long as possible. “I’ll be taking my bounty now.”

Preston turned, her eyes widening as she spotted Elias. “Where did he come from?”

“Thin air,” Elias answered, his voice deadpan.

Zed looked at the recruits. “Those of you who haven’t been altered need to get the fuck out now.”

“What? Why?” The young-looking ex-AEF soldier Zed had argued with the day before—Baby Face—stepped forward.

Preston scoffed. “Zander, you’re hardly in a position to—”

“You all felt the scan earlier, right? That weird, tingly, invisible-fingers-in-your-gut thing?” Glances back and forth told Zed they knew exactly what he was talking about. It wasn’t a sensation you easily forgot. “That was the Guardians. They’re—”

“Shut him up,” Preston growled at Dayne.

Dayne shrugged. “Pay me.”

“The Guardians are in orbit and—”

“Shut up!” Preston darted forward, her hand raised to slap Zed.

Zoning, Zed snapped the tie binding his wrists and grabbed her hand before it could connect. His skin tingled at the contact, but he didn’t have time to puzzle out why. He yanked her close. A couple of recruits stepped forward—knights in fucking tarnished armor—and Dayne raised her rifle to encourage them to step back. Reaching over, Zed freed Elias and ignored his protest at the rough treatment.

“I’m not going to shut up, Carly,” Zed growled. “The Guardians want this new project terminated. I’m giving the kids you haven’t fucked with a chance to run.”

“W-what happens if we don’t run?” one of the university crew stammered.

Fuck, this was difficult. Thank Christ for the Zone, or else he wouldn’t be able to get any words past the churning of his gut. “They want you dead.”

“He’s lying!” Preston pulled on his grip, but she had no hope of breaking it. She was caught, and Zed knew what he had to do. He didn’t want to—even though she deserved—

Preston yanked on his hand again—but this time, she paired it with an upraised knee. Right to his balls. Really fucking hard.

The Zone deadened some of the pain, but not all of it. Zed’s breath rushed out of him and his grip loosened. Preston pulled away, shouting at her recruits. Elias was yelling too, telling the non-altered kids to run—

The boom of Dayne’s gun brought everything back into focus.

“Fuck!” Dayne grabbed his elbow to get his attention and pointed at the door. “Preston’s running!”

There was only one place she could go—and Nessa and Todd were waiting there. But they’d need backup. “Elias! After Preston!”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Elias darted after the good doctor. Ricky started to follow, but Dayne tripped him. He went sprawling into a nearby stack of improvised weights—mechanical equipment of some sort—and lay still.

Zed straightened and turned to address the men and women she’d left behind, his hands raised in a harmless gesture. “The Guardians want to erase this experiment, but if you surrender, maybe I can—”

“Fuck that!” The soldier he’d pegged as Mahavir rushed forward.

As though that were a signal, the rest of the recruits burst into motion. Four of the non-altered ran for the door, including Ling. Zed let them pass, focused on Mahavir. The guard phase-shifted, possibly trying to get the jump on Zed, but that wasn’t happening. Zed shifted too. Mahavir looked shocked when Zed grabbed him—more evidence of Preston’s crappy training. That had been the whole point of the original program, the idea that phase-shifted soldiers could fight phase-shifted stin. Zed grabbed the guy’s head and twisted. They both fell back into the real world and Zed let the body drop to his feet.

Dayne brought her rifle to bear once again, but nothing happened when she squeezed the trigger. “Piece of shit,” she grumbled. Tossing it to the ground, she pulled out a wicked-looking hunting knife. “Always be prepared, my mom told me.”

Zed grinned. Despite his injuries and fatigue, he had a distinct advantage over their opponents: he’d trained for eighteen months to learn how to use his abilities and then actively employed them in war zones for six. Four against two wasn’t the best set of odds, but he’d faced worse.

“Bring it,” Zed growled.

* * *

The interior of the cave system was too quiet. The lack of sound set Felix’s skin to crawling—though he’d been unsettled since they passed the prefab where they’d locked those couple of guards and found the door hanging open. The lack of guards at the entrance to the caves had been weird too. Preston was definitely up to something.

Felix pulled the second retooled generator out of Andy’s backpack. The first had been armed and wedged into a wide crevice near the entrance to the caves. That was the most important bomb. The one he’d had to set before all the others. The one he’d primed to detonate at a signal from his bracelet if the timer failed or if he was captured. It would collapse the front entrance to the cave system, leaving the landing crater as the only exit—an exit Nessa and Todd could close if they had to. If anyone other than Felix or Zed approached.

He set the second bomb on the floor and glanced up at the smooth stone ceiling of the chamber Preston used as an operating theater, looking for any indications of weakness—stress fractures, rough seams in the rock. He found one near the rear wall, an uneven lip of stone that might or might not indicate a natural fault.

“Shove it under here.” Felix gestured toward the banks of monitors and medical equipment lining the wall.

Qek helped him position the generator before connecting the detonator with her nimble fingers while Felix synced his bracelet to the timer. Andy stood guard. Had Zed caught up to Preston yet? Had he—

A small beep announced the sync was done. He shut off the display. “Two down, one to go.”

“Fix?” Andy asked.

Felix glanced up to find Andy holding a bundle of gray fabric. “What’s up?”

“You might want to come see this.”

Felix stood and walked over to the second hover float, currently unpowered and resting in a cradle. Beneath a stasis field lay a body with skin as gray as the sheet that had been covering it. It was the woman Preston had operated on the same day as him. Yesterday? Felix shifted his shoulder, pulling forth a small ache. The woman—his co-victim—was dead.

He couldn’t decide if he should be relieved or saddened by her death. He’d never known this woman, had never even learned her name. Her being dead meant he didn’t have to kill her. It also meant Preston’s attempt to graft a shard to her spine had failed. The Guardians would still want her destroyed, though. She was altered. A super soldier. A dead soldier.

Qek touched his hand. Looking down at the friend he too often took for granted, Felix folded his fingers around hers in something more than the casual touch he usually gave back. He’d always found her company restful and quietly instructive. Ashushk friendship was deep and profound, something humanity should strive to emulate. Right now, he took the wordless understanding she offered. Then he let her hand go.

“The body needs to stay here,” he said to Andy.

Nodding, Andy replaced the sheet.

Felix’s wallet chimed softly. He opened the channel reserved for the Chaos crew and Nessa reported in. “Two guards at the landing pad, both subdued. Neither of them were super soldiers. They were loading supplies into the larger shuttle.”

“No sign of Preston?”

“None that I could see.”

“If Dr. Preston is not in the landing crater and not here, then she is still gathering that which she deems valuable,” Qek said.

Her soldiers and any data she wanted to keep.

“She’ll be in that cavern she uses to train her people,” Andy said. “She’s got an office behind there, and living quarters.”

“That’s our next stop,” Felix said. They’d already marked it on their map as must destroy. “We’ve got one charge left to place, then we’ll be headed your way, Ness.” Where was Zed? At the training facility with Preston? That could be good or bad.

Let’s say good and be done with it.

“See you when we see you,” Nessa said, signing off.

As they approached the junction between the medical facility and Preston’s labs, Felix finally heard something. Rapid footsteps. Someone—no, several someones running. He held up a hand, calling his party to a halt, then pulled the unlocked rifle Todd had equipped him with off his shoulder. Crouching, he aimed for the intersection. He could hear Qek and Andy doing the same behind him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart banged against the inside of his chest. This was it. Go time. Would he be able to tell if they were super soldiers or should he shoot first and ask questions later?

A skinny woman jogged into view, three others at her heels. At the sight of Felix and his companions, she stopped and raised her hands. “Don’t shoot!”

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t,” Felix called out.

“He’s letting us go! He said if we left now, he’d let us live.”

Sagging while holding a rifle would be very bad form for a soldier, or a man who used to be one. Still, the relief sweeping through Felix was nearly overwhelming. Zed had found a way to save some of them. He lowered the barrel of his rifle, then used it to point toward the front entrance of the caves. “Go. Quickly. Out the front entrance and stay back. Pull everyone else back too. That entrance is going to be permanently closed soon.”

The four nodded and started off, hands still raised, pace only picking up when they seemed sure Felix wasn’t going to shoot them in the back.

He turned to Andy and they exchanged a nod. Qek clicked once. Rifles slung back over their shoulders, they continued toward the training facility. A minute later they heard someone else approach at a run. Waving Qek and Andy toward the walls, Felix dropped into a crouch, eased the backpack with the remaining generator from his shoulders and raised his stunner. The tunnel had narrowed, and he could only hear one set of footsteps this time.

His mouth dropped open as Preston rounded the corner.

Leaping up, Felix dove forward with his stunner, intending to knock her out. He had a half-formed notion Zed should be the one to kill her, but if she fought back, he’d cut lose every thread of rage holding him together. He pulled the trigger and a blast of energy shot from the weapon in an arc of white light. It should have hit Preston squarely in the chest. Instead, the light flared brightly and spread across her form, turning her into a blue-and-white ghost.

Preston was wearing a personal shield.

Shit and double shit.

Laughing, she said, “It’s like none of you have ever seen a shield before.”

She continued forward, her momentum and his surprise knocking Felix backward, leaving Qek in her sights. Raising her own stunner, she took aim. Twisting as fast as he could, Felix tried to grab her legs—anything—to pull her off balance. A great weight hit them both from the side, knocking them into a tangled heap against the wall. Andy. The stunner discharged, the backlash stinging Felix’s right hip. Andy cried out.

Working against the fluctuating pain and numbness creeping up and down his right side, Felix lifted his stunner and shoved it into someone’s gut. An elbow collided with his head. For an instant the tunnel brightened. Then it dimmed. Another charge pushed through the tangle of limbs and Andy’s bellow mixed with the smell of burnt flesh.

A flash of blue streaked past his peripheral vision, chipping bits of stone from the wall. Felix recognized the loud cough of a rifle report a nanosecond later.

“A personal shield cannot deflect a projectile at a range of less than half a meter,” Qek said. She’d unslung her rifle and had it aimed at Preston.

Preston pulled back slowly, both hands raised. As she moved into a crouch, it became apparent Andy could not move. Felix risked a quick look down and saw a blistered rash across the side of his face and neck. At such close range, the stunner blast could have cooked his brain. A flood of bitter fluid hit the back of Felix’s throat.

Preston turned suddenly, one of her upraised hands knocking the barrel of the rifle wide. Qek fired and the round she’d loaded—definitely projectile—tore into the wall behind them. Then Preston was on top of her. Felix got to his knees and reached for his knife. Qek had had the right idea. His stunner would be useless until her shield lost charge, but she wasn’t wearing body armor. Smart fiber could be tightened to deflect a bullet or blade, but Felix’s anger felt equal to the task of plunging through the toughest weave.

“I’ll kill the ashushk!” Preston yelled.

Hilt of his knife in hand, Felix paused and breathed out in a quick rush. Preston had her stunner pressed to Qek’s throat. “Don’t,” he croaked.

Not Qek. His knife fell from suddenly nerveless fingers. Think, Felix, think. Where was Zed? He glanced back along the tunnel.

As if reading his thoughts, Preston said, “Zander is busy with a few of my soldiers and your other friend was also surprised by my shield.” Did she mean Dayne or Elias? She jammed the stunner into Qek’s neck. “Either way, I now have an insurance policy, don’t I?”

Felix touched a finger to his bracelet. “Leave Qek here, unharmed, and take me or I will blow this place.”

Preston’s brows crooked together and Felix hit the trigger on the first charge. A second later, a distant boom rocked the mountain. He hoped the unaltered recruits had made it out and had been able to warn everyone to stay back. If they’d been caught in the blast—shit. He closed his eyes briefly. He’d had to do it. Had to leave Preston only one option. Hopefully Zed would feel the explosion and draw the same conclusion.

“What did you just do?” Preston asked.

“There’s only one way out of here now. The shuttle landing.” Felix gestured at the tight holo over his bracelet. “Let Qek go, or I’ll collapse the tunnel between here and there.”

“You’d only be trapping yourself and your friends in here with me.”

“Lady, at this point, I’d count that as a win.”

Felix didn’t consider himself a hard man. An asshole, yes. But he wasn’t used to issuing threats and ultimatums. There had been little he’d cared about that much. But his conviction in this must have shown.

“Zander will come after you. If I go for the shuttle landing.”

“Yep.”

“Do you think he’ll make it in time?” She obviously meant to taunt him, but her tone lacked the proper edge.

“The longer we talk, the better chance he has. But that other bomb is on a timer, so you’d better hurry and make up your mind.” Felix positioned his finger over the interface.

Preston eased the stunner away from Qek’s neck, but kept it pointed at her until she’d moved behind Felix and pressed it to his neck.

“Let’s you and I go for a walk,” she said.

Chapter Twenty

A distant explosion rumbled through the rock beneath their feet, almost throwing Zed out of the Zone. On a dim level of his mind, he knew that explosion had gone off early—unless he’d been fighting for a lot longer than he estimated—but he couldn’t think about what that meant. The Zone wouldn’t let him.

The woman he was fighting, one of the university crew, blinked and stumbled back. Her eyes lost the flatness of the Zone and a crease furrowed her brow almost instantly. Zed took advantage of her confusion. Stepping in, he grabbed her head and twisted. The crack of her neck would have made him ill at any other time.

“You fucker,” Baby Face growled, limping forward. Dayne had slashed his leg before Baby Face had knocked her down.

Zed narrowed his eyes and flicked his gaze from Baby Face to the remaining two altered recruits. One was an ex-soldier, the other a station rat. Both deadly—and Baby Face could fight too.

“Stand down and I will let you leave,” Zed said, his voice sounding flat even to his ears. Emotionless. Mission parameters stated he had to offer the non-altered soldier a way out—that was the only reason he’d dredged up words at all.

“Fuck you. Three to one. Maybe you should stand down,” Baby Face sneered.

Zed didn’t bother to respond. Digging deep into the Zone—something he knew he was going to regret—he darted forward. To Baby Face and the other two guys, with their inferior training, he’d be nothing more than a whirlwind. With fists and elbows.

They didn’t have a chance. He registered each hit, each impact, and when he was sure his opponents had been terminated, he stopped.

The Zone fell away immediately. He staggered—only to have someone catch his elbow and hold him steady.

“Good fight,” Dayne said. “Wanna go again?” She grinned despite the livid bruise covering her cheek from jaw to temple. Her eyes looked a little less than focused.

“Pass,” Zed croaked, trying not to lean on Dayne.

“Have you neutralized all enemy combatants, Zander?” Qek clicked at the doorway.

“Yeah. All hostiles neutralized. Except for Preston.” Zed squinted through the annoying ache in his temple as Elias stumbled around Qek’s small, lithe form. “What the hell happened to you? Did you get Preston?”

“Fucking Preston,” Elias muttered. “No.”

“Dr. Preston was equipped with a personal shield,” Qek said. That explained the tingle when Zed had touched her. “None of us expected her to employ that level of protection. We need your assistance, Zander.”

Zed’s brain caught up with current events. Elias had been chasing—and Qek had been—

Where was Flick?

Horror cascaded through him. Qek clicked as she stepped forward. “Fixer and I intercepted her by accident and when she took me hostage, Fixer offered himself up instead.”

“So now we’ve got to catch up to them.” Elias tossed aside the rifle he’d picked up with a sound of disgust. The stock bore a distinctive bio-lock insignia. “Fix cut off the front entrance.” That explained the explosion. Had the other recruits gotten out? Review later. “She’s got to drag him toward the shuttle crater.”

Nessa and Todd were supposed to collapse the entryway if any of Preston’s people showed up. What would they do if Flick was with Preston?

Zed grabbed the Zone again. His mind didn’t want to embrace the altered state of consciousness, but he needed it to dull the aches in his body and the worries in his head.

“Let’s go,” he said.

A short way from the lab area, they found Andy on the floor. Dayne dropped beside him, checking for a pulse, and Qek clicked apologetically. “Preston caught him up close with a stunner.”

“Shit,” Dayne murmured, tapping his cheek. “C’mon, man.”

Andy didn’t stir—but his brow furrowed slightly. A good sign, despite the wicked-looking blisters on his neck and head.

“You guys go ahead,” Dayne said. “I’ll get him out.”

“You’re not going to be able to carry him,” Elias said. He glanced in the direction they needed to go, then back at Dayne. “Fuck. I’ve got him.” He jerked his head at Zed and Qek as he bent down to lever Andy up. “Go.”

Zed didn’t hesitate. He bolted forward. Preston and Ingesson were the mission—Dayne and Andy were, in the larger scheme, unimportant. Buried deep beneath the Zone, his conscience gave a twinge, but it was easily ignored.

He caught up with Preston and Ingesson in the dozen meters before the shuttle crater exit. Behind them, Zed saw O’Brien—Nessa—and Todd hovering at the tunnel mouth, Todd’s hand latched onto O’Brien’s arm, preventing her from moving forward. Preston froze and turned toward Zed, her arm wrapped around Ingesson’s neck and a stunner pressed to his temple. A shot at that close of a range would fry Ingesson’s synapses.

Only the Zone kept Zed breathing evenly.

“We’re getting on my ship, Zander.”

Zed stared her down. Given their proximity to one of the sporadic tunnel lights, she’d easily be able to see the cold flatness of his eyes, a result of the depth of the Zone. “The Guardians won’t let you leave orbit. They’ve signed your death warrant.”

Preston’s expression cracked. “They don’t do that sort of thing.”

“You felt the scan. You know they’re here and if you’ve tried to contact the Blythe, you know they’ve already started.” Zed took a small step forward, but halted when Preston jammed the stunner even harder against Ingesson’s head, enough to tilt it sideways.

“The Blythe might just be late!”

So she had tried to contact them. No wonder she’d started panicking and packing.

“You’re fucked, Carly,” Ingesson said, his voice taunting.

Always poking the fucking bear. God, I love him. Zed blinked away the stray thought, shoving his emotions down deep. “Let him go,” he ordered.

Preston smiled, then chuckled. The sound had a note of desperation to it, as though she was losing her hold on reality. “So I’m dead regardless?”

“I kill you, or they kill you, or they kill everyone.”

“Well then.” She looked at Ingesson—and her finger squeezed the trigger.

Time slowed down. Zed shouted a warning—maybe a word, maybe just a sound—and launched himself forward, fast. Faster than Preston. Faster than he’d ever moved before. Ingesson lifted his arm in slow motion, grabbing his fist in preparation to jam Preston in the gut with his elbow. The stunner fired—

The heel of Zed’s palm caught Preston in the forehead. The momentum and power behind the strike snapped her head back. Her skull caved under his hand. Eyes rolling back, she toppled away from Ingesson. And didn’t move.

Zed waited, watching, looking for some sign that Preston wasn’t dead, before taking his eyes off her and seeking out Ingesson—Flick. The Zone wavered and fled, leaving him feeling every one of his aches—including the pounding in his head. But the discomfort couldn’t hide a smile when he saw Flick standing at one side of the tunnel with a scorched ear and a blackened swath of hair.

“That’s a familiar look.” During their first fight with a criminal cartel a year ago, Flick had had a close encounter with a stunner and left it with a few less strands of hair.

Flick lifted his fingers to investigate the damage. “Yeah, well—”

A shout at the mouth of the tunnel jerked his attention to Nessa and Todd. A third figure loomed behind them—

Time skipped. One minute, Zed was taking a step toward Ness, the next, he was flat on his back on the hard rock floor. Shouting surrounded him, voices all blending together. What the fuck was on a loop in his brain.

Flick knelt over Zed, his hands pressing against...his chest? The right side, so not his heart. Good. Zed tried to look, but Flick shook his head. “Stay still.”

“What—” Oh, breathing was not easy. How had he not noticed that before?

Nessa skidded to a halt beside them, her wallet out. Consciousness started to get very nebulous, particularly when she lifted Flick’s hands to see under them. Zed fought to keep his eyes open.

Flick’s jaw flexed. “Is the asshole dead?”

“Todd shot him,” Ness said, her voice tight. She must have seen the question in Zed’s eyes, because she continued. “One of the guards we’d knocked unconscious earlier. We thought he was out for the count...”

“‘S okay,” Zed managed.

“Holy shit,” Elias breathed as he approached. “Zed?”

“Shot,” Flick said, the one-syllable word bitten off.

“Looks worse than it is,” Nessa said, glancing up. “Trust me.”

Zed tapped a finger against Flick’s leg to get his attention. “Gotta finish.”

Flick shook his head. “Not leaving you.”

“Time’s running out.”

“You can tell the Guardians that the soldiers are dead. Preston’s dead. We can blow this place anytime now.”

“Can’t...can’t concentrate.” Not enough to try to contact the Guardians with any sort of coherence.

“The shot missed his lung,” Nessa reported. “But he’s losing a lot of blood. I need to get him stabilized.”

Flick made a strangled, frustrated noise. “Zed, just drag your brain cells together and call off the Guardians! Goddamn it, there’s a perfectly functional medical wing here.”

“How much time to sunrise?” Elias asked Nessa.

Zed couldn’t see her, but he could imagine her expression. When it came to her patients, Ness didn’t like risk. “Not long enough. And if there are complications...”

He didn’t want his eyes to close, but they did anyway. “Finish.”

“Qek can do it.” Flick’s voice sounded choked.

“The arming sequence is keyed to your bracelet.” Qek clicked agitatedly.

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Elias started issuing orders. “Todd, check the other guard is still secure and help Dayne get Andy out into the crater. Qek, check out the shuttle they were loading and see if it’s been locked down or not. Fix and I will head back and set the last charge.”

Flick whimpered.

“Ness?” Elias prompted.

“I’ll do what I can to get him stable, then we’ll move him,” Nessa said in her best trust me, I’m a doctor voice.

Zed liked that voice. It wasn’t as good as Flick’s, but he trusted it. Trusted her. She’d been the one to offer him sanctuary of a sort a year ago, when he’d first come aboard the Chaos—she’d always taken care of him, even when she didn’t know what was wrong.

She’d do the same now.

With that thought, Zed let consciousness slip away.

* * *

The smell of burnt hair preceded Felix down the tunnel. “We should just let the Guardians level this place.” His shortened breath chopped off each word.

“I’ve only been here for six hours and I never want to come back,” Elias replied.

“You haven’t even experienced the joys of high noon.” Could you call it noon when there were two suns and they intersected somewhere before the middle of the day? Felix glanced over his shoulder. “We should have helped them get Zed to the shuttle.”

“They’ll be fine. Todd and Dayne seem like good sorts. They’ll help. Qek will have wheels up by the time we get back and Nessa will have Zed all settled in.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Elias. I’m the fucking overlord of the bullshit kingdom. Neither of those shuttles will have much in the way of medical facilities.” Felix stopped moving forward, but his legs twitched spastically so he felt as if he was jogging in place. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Elias clamped a hand around Felix’s shoulder. “Fix! Take a deep breath. Do your counting thing.”

“He wants to get married, Eli. I can’t marry him if he’s dead!”

“If we don’t finish this, no one is marrying anyone.”

“What if I blow this mountain and it falls on the settlement?”

“Now you’re just stalling. Look, I watched you go over these calculations. You’re the best bet this colony has of surviving. You said so yourself. Now let’s get moving before time runs out.”

He’d named himself the colony’s best chance and everyone had listened? Christ, had Todd been putting some weird mushrooms in the coffee or something?

The sober reality of being the best and only chance of erasing all traces of Project Dreamweaver or Dreamcatcher or whatever the fuck Preston wanted to call it caught up with him on the next breath. If he and Zed were going to have any kind of future, he had to move. Now.

Felix continued running through the tunnels, using the holo map over his bracelet to make sure he didn’t fall into one of the side branches that would lead him nowhere. When they passed the medical facility, his heart lurched up into his throat, becoming a lump he couldn’t swallow down. “Shit.” He checked the time stamp on his wallet. “Elias, this charge is going to go off in ten minutes.”

“Can’t you change it?”

“No! Once set, the timing sequences are locked. I can trigger them early, but that’s it.”

He’d wanted to keep the programming simple, and locking the sequences except for an early trigger had been another fail-safe. Preston’s facility had to be destroyed, no matter what.

“Then we had better get a move on.”

Thought fled behind his feet as Felix ran toward the training facility and Preston’s office. Left turn, right turn. Pick up the bomb he’d left in the hallway. Left and right again. His chest ached and his head hurt so much he wondered if the charge from Preston’s stunner had actually burned more than his hair. Maybe his brains were leaking out over—

He caught the edge of the doorway into the training room with a sore palm and swung inside. Bodies littered the floor. Ignoring them, Felix swung the pack off his shoulders and set it on the floor. He didn’t bother pulling the small generator out, he simply armed it in the bag. With trembling fingers he connected the detonator and synced it to his bracelet. He fumbled with the code twice.

“Triple fucking shit, I should have written a sequence for this.” With a curse, Felix started again.

“Deep breaths.”

“Stop telling me to breathe! And don’t even think about telling me to count.” Felix looked up. “You should go. Start back. Ping the others, tell them the medical facility is about to go and they should—”

“Just set the fucking charge, Fix!”

Stilling his fingers, Felix sucked in a deep breath. Ten. One number—that was all he needed to find a space of calm. It would never work again, that single digit, but with everything hanging on one number, on one second—his life, his future, the lives of his crew and Zed—it was all he needed. He keyed the code and synced the detonator.

“Done. Let’s go.”

Felix stumbled as he rose to his feet. Elias grabbed him and hauled him upright. Together, they fled back along the tunnels toward the medical lab. Felix peeked at his wallet. They had two minutes until the generator there blew. His encounter with Preston and that bastard shooting Zed had delayed their exit strategy by more than fifteen minutes. He peeked at his wallet again. One minute, thirty seconds. He really should have taken the time to write an adjustable sequence. One minute. Fuck.

“We gotta get past the recovery rooms before the generator blows.” Could they make it?

“Roger that.” Elias put on more speed.

They rounded the last corner and pelted past the large window set into the rock. Felix didn’t dare check his wallet. He’d stumble, he’d fall. He’d be getting to his feet when the blast rocked through the rooms and into the tunnel. He began counting in his head. Twenty seconds. They were up to the first recovery room. Ten seconds. Second recovery room. Nine, eight, seven—

A roar punched out of the operating theater and into the hall. Heat slammed into Felix’s back, lifting him from his feet and flinging him against the wall. A high-pitched whine took up residence between his ears, and a rain of rock and dust and soot pattered across his face.

Next to him, Elias lay in a crumpled heap. Felix pushed to his knees and hooked his crystalline arm around Elias’s torso, locked the limb into a protective curl and pulled. Afraid of what he couldn’t hear—the ceiling groaning, the floor cracking—he dragged Elias away from the choking dust and rubble. Around the first corner and along the next tunnel. Up to a door he didn’t remember. The holo over his wrist wavered and popped, showing a distorted image of the maze beneath the mountain. An image that was now obsolete. They’d closed the front entrance and taken out the middle. They’d destroyed Preston’s facility as directed. Would the destruction be enough to stay the Guardians’ hand?

Did the Guardians have hands?

Felix continued pulling Elias along. The light from his holomap bounced off the walls, all but useless, but necessary in the dusty dark. “This is where I need to be your size and you need to be mine,” he muttered, the words echoing thickly between his ears. Damn, he couldn’t even hear himself. “But if I was your size, I probably wouldn’t need to be with someone like Zed. I’d be my own hero, Eli. I’d be one of the good guys, not a runt from the bowels of Pontus Station.”

He heaved Elias forward again.

“My voice sounds really weird in my head. I could be saying anything. I could be telling Zed I’d marry him and he’d have the words and I would have no clear record of what I said.”

He managed another few dragging steps.

“You’re really heavy. Why are you so fucking heavy? Has Ness been making you cookies?”

Ness made the best cookies.

Between thinking about cookies and the Chaos and Zed, Felix came to the conclusion he couldn’t drag Elias all the way back to the shuttle landing pad. A tremble through the floor of the tunnel added to his doubts. He unlocked his arm and let go, then leaned over Elias and began slapping his cheeks. “Wake up, Eli.” He slapped harder. “Get the fuck up and help me get out from under this mountain before it drops on our heads.”

He was just drawing back for a harder slap—a punch, really—when Elias opened his eyes. “What the fuck?” The words mush, his tone very clear.

“Can you walk?”

“Maybe.”

“Good, because we’re going to be buried alive if you can’t.” Felix helped Elias stumble to his feet and they fell together in a leaning house of cards. If one of them collapsed, the other would too. “When I say go, step forward and for fuck’s sake, do it at the same time as I do or we’re just done.”

The mountain groaned. The sound of creaking stone and falling gravel crept up behind them.

Felix pushed Elias forward. “Faster.”

The ground bucked beneath them and split in two, the widening crack darker than the dusty shadows. Felix fell backward and Elias fell forward. The crack widened, nearly spilling Elias into the waiting chasm.

“Elias!”

Rocks began raining down from the ceiling. Elias crawled up over the lip of the dark crack and held out a hand to Felix. “Jump!”

Felix scooted back to make a run for it—and the ceiling came crashing down.

* * *

A rumble vibrated the ground beneath Zed, deep and angry. He blinked, mostly conscious again but definitely not all there. That hadn’t been another explosion—no, it was something more insidious.

Ness’s face paled. “I think that was a tremor.”

“From what?” Zed demanded.

Any response she might have given was drowned out by another rumble—louder, stronger, a hell of a lot more scary.

“We need to get out of these tunnels,” Nessa said, tucking something against something on his chest. He couldn’t see what she’d done—but he suspected she’d made a bandage out of some material. Maybe someone had sacrificed their shirt to the cause while he was out of it. She peered at the mouth of the tunnel, looking for Todd or Dayne. After another rumble, she shook her head and crouched in front of Zed, hand extended. “I’m going to need you to lever yourself up with me, okay?”

Dust rained from the ceiling. Zed’s brain struggled to understand what this all meant. “But Flick...Elias...”

“C’mon, up!” Nessa grabbed his left arm and tugged. Gray edged his vision and he wavered, his knees threatening to buckle. Ness tucked his arm around her shoulders, refusing to let him fall.

“One foot in front of the other,” she ordered, directing him toward the tunnel exit.

It took a few steps for Zed’s brain—his heart—to catch up. He stopped walking. “Ness, Flick—”

Running footsteps and coughing sounded behind them. Relief making his heart light, Zed looked over his shoulder just as Elias reached them.

Only Elias.

“Tunnel came down. On—fuck.” He bent over, coughing, hands braced on his knees. “On Fix.”

No.

Ness guided Zed over to the wall and propped him against it. “Lean there. Don’t move.”

She jogged to Elias’s side, wallet out. Zed watched, detached, as she scanned him. Shock and blood loss kept the entire scenario from feeling real.

Elias wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and swayed. Ness steadied him, then cast a glance at Zed. “I can’t carry you both out of here.”

Elias coughed again. “We need to go back. It’s not far—”

Another tremor cut off his words. Nessa was already shaking her head before it had stopped rumbling. “We need to get to safety.”

“No, Ness, he might still—”

“And he might not!”

Zed crumpled as though Nessa’s words were scissors that cut through the strings holding him up. The rock wall scraped his back through his SFT as his knees gave out, but he barely felt it. Flick might be alive—but he might not. And there was every chance that the mountain would come down on all of them if they stayed.

So, solution—everyone else could get out.

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his chest, Zed pushed himself back up. “Go. I’ll check.”

“Like hell,” Ness snapped.

“I can Zone—” Except the altered state of consciousness just wasn’t there when he reached for it. Too injured, too scattered.

“What’s taking y’all so long?” Todd demanded as he jogged up. “I felt the damn tremors out on the landing area. We need to go.”

“Flick’s...cave-in,” Zed managed.

Elias gestured at Todd. “C’mon, you and me. Ness can take Zed to the shuttle and—”

The tunnel shook hard. Palm-sized pieces of rock tumbled from the ceiling to crash between Nessa and Elias. Ness shied away with a startled squeal. Elias’s deep, choking cough was like a bass counterpoint. Zed closed his eyes and turned his head to avoid the dust cloud, but he couldn’t help inhaling some. He coughed—and pain stole his sight and hearing.

When it came back, Todd had him propped up and Ness was shouting at Elias.

“I need to look after the people in front of me! We need to get Zed to the shuttle.”

“Then I’ll go—”

“No!” Nessa grabbed Elias’s shirt. “Eli, I can’t lose you.”

Elias cast a look down the tunnel. Todd tugged on Zed’s arm. “Think you can start walkin’?”

“I’m not leaving him,” Zed rasped.

“Son, chances are—”

“Not leaving him,” Zed repeated, forming each word precisely.

Elias suddenly appeared on Zed’s other side and draped Zed’s arm over his shoulders. “No, Ness is right.”

“Can’t just give up.”

“I’m not, but it’s not safe.” Elias’s mouth was set into a tight, thin line. “We need to get you out of here.”

Zed dug his heels into the floor. “No.”

“C’mon, man. We’ve got to go.”

“Eli—”

“He’s gone!” Elias looked at Zed, eyes reddened with dust and pain. He adjusted Zed’s arm across his shoulders, pulling him closer. “We can’t—”

Zed spun and slammed his palms into Elias’s chest. Pure force of will kept him upright as Elias staggered back. “No! Fuck you, he’s not dead!”

Rage burst through Zed with the destructiveness of a lava flow. Unstoppable. He screamed at Elias, unsure if he was even trying to form words. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the blood pounding through his head, the reverberation of the noise he was making echoing in his skull. He screamed until he felt as if his throat would rupture—and even then, he wasn’t sure if he’d stop.

At some point, he realized his screaming wasn’t all external. His thoughts were spewing from him, a well of fury and pain, nonsensical but directed. God, he knew exactly who was to blame for this, and they sat above, puppeteers pulling strings without a care for anyone they manipulated.

“He’s gone because of you! I lost him because of you!” He might have been shouting out loud or in his head—Zed wasn’t sure. He’d lost any capacity to tell and he didn’t fucking care.

“Zanderanatolius...”

Pain started to sink into his heart, battling the rage for supremacy. “We’re done. No more. No more. He’s gone and I’m...I’m...”

“We did not—”

Elias grabbed Zed’s arm. “We need to go.”

“It was not our intention—”

Zed jerked his arm out of Elias’s grip and closed his eyes to focus on what he had to say to the Guardians—what he needed to say. “No, you were just playing God! Just like when you stepped in to end the war, or when you took me from Ashushk Prime.”

“Those actions benefited you, Zanderanatolius.”

They had, he wouldn’t argue that, but that wasn’t the point. “You talk about free will, about believing it’s important that we make our own choices, but it’s all bullshit.”

“It is not.”

“You come here, you destroy a ship—”

“You do not know—”

“You demand that I commit murder in your name.” The Guardians were silent as Zed continued. “You don’t care about us. Any of us. All you care about is your agenda—whatever the fuck that is.”

“Zanderanatolius—”

“And that agenda...it cost me everything. Humans are our hearts,” he shouted silently. “You told me that. And you’ve taken mine.”

“Enough.”

Zed barely registered the creeping sensation of a Guardian scan before the world disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-One

Elias stared at the place where Zed had been standing, screaming, a second ago. “Did the Guardians just take Zed?”

Nessa wore a similar expression of shock. “I think so.”

Todd gestured at the empty space. “Do they do that often?”

“No, they don’t.” Elias swallowed, his throat sticking together from the dryness of the dust still floating through the air. Beneath his feet the ground murmured. They continued toward and beyond the tunnel mouth, Elias’s steps mechanical and automatic.

Once outside, Nessa handed him a squeeze bottle of water. “Here.”

Elias stared at the bottle. Drinking seemed too ordinary a thing. On the one hand, he could barely remember the mechanics of it. On the other, how could he think about drinking when Fixer and Zed were just...gone. “Ness.” His voice cracked.

“Drink, Eli. Then give me your hands.” At the mention, pain flared along his fingers from his broken nails to his skinned knuckles. He’d tried digging the rocks out. He’d tried to get to Fix. “The ground was shaking so hard and I couldn’t breathe for the dust. I couldn’t get him out!”

“I know.” Ness’s voice was kind, her expression gently sad.

Elias drank and passed the bottle to Todd. Dayne, crouching on the ground next to Andy’s motionless, bandaged form, had her own bottle. Dust trickled from the edge of the cave mouth, reminding him the tunnel behind them wasn’t stable.

Elias nudged his thoughts toward captain mode. The colonists weren’t his crew. But he needed to start making sense of the mess around him. “Is Andy going to be okay?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Nessa said. “The diagnostic program on my wallet can’t do a deep brain scan. He has some swelling, but until he wakes up, I can’t measure the extent of any damage.”

Dayne took Andy’s hand. “I’ll look after him. Andy’s good people. He took me in when I first got here, and if not for him, I might have fallen in with Preston and her shit.”

Elias nodded and glanced over at Todd. “Have you heard anything from the settlement?”

“Yeah. A broken arm from someone falling over when the quakes rumbled through, but that’s the extent of it. Mountain is quiet on that side.”

Elias looked away, his throat tight. He didn’t believe tears were a sign of weakness. He just wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Movement in the periphery of his vision caught his attention. Qek, shifting from foot to foot.

“Where are Fixer and Zander?” she asked.

Elias opened his mouth, then closed it. In the smooth tone she reserved for speaking to patients, Nessa quickly explained where the rest of their crew was.

Qek made no answer. Her eyes widened and her forehead smoothed, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she turned and walked back into the crater, disappearing around the bulk of the shuttle she’d been inspecting. A moment later, she reappeared, pushing a sonic vacuum mounted on a hover float toward the tunnel entrance. Her wide eyes were focused ahead of her, her blue face still devoid of wrinkles but for one crease high on her scalp.

“What are you doing?” Elias asked.

“I am not ready to give up on my friend.” Qek continued past him, guiding the bulky vacuum normally used for cleaning cargo holds, or on reverse cycle, scouring the outside of ship hulls.

“Cleaning the tunnel isn’t going to help us find Fix.”

“In this case, I think it might,” Qek said.

Nessa gasped. “Oh my God, I think I know what she’s going to do.”

“Won’t she just bring down more rock?” Todd asked.

“What the hell are you all going on about?” How could vacuuming a tunnel save Fix? Wasn’t as if they could suck all the dirt and rock away. Not even an industrial-strength dock vac could do that, and the one sitting atop the hover float was...Elias ran to Qek’s side. “You’re going to use the sonic setting? Do you think it will work? What about what Todd said? The tunnel isn’t very stable right now.”

“Based on the readings from the first quakes and the tremors afterward, I surmise the mountain is settling. I would suggest we construct some braces to hold up the ceiling closer to the rock fall, however.”

“Ship cradle!” Todd said. “The smaller shuttle is in a cradle.”

“That would be adequate to my needs. Would you fetch the cradle, Mr. Todd?”

Dayne pushed to her feet. “I’ll help!”

Elias jogged to Dayne’s side and Nessa caught up a second later. Together, the four of them lowered the shuttle onto temporary moorings and extracted the cradle, two separate constructions of plasmix and alloy formed into wide Vs. A field could be stretched between them to buoy a ship.

“How far apart can we extend these?”

“Depends on the weight you’re trying to lift,” Todd said.

Elias glanced back at the side of the crater, at the mountain brooding silently between them and the ravine. He shook his head. “This can’t work.”

Nessa elbowed him in the side. “Think positive, Captain.”

They floated the cradle arms into the tunnel behind Qek. They had to lower them almost to the ground to pass under a low bump in the ceiling, then narrow the spread of the arms to slide around the first bend. But by the time they got to the tumble of rock that had separated Elias from Fix, hope had begun to bubble in his chest. Fix would support this plan. He wouldn’t have even stopped to make Qek’s calculations. He’d have just started dragging equipment into the tunnel. No, he’d have scraped his hands raw first. Tried every tool his crystalline arm could make. He’d have kicked and screamed—much as Elias had felt like doing after he’d broken all his nails. But he wouldn’t have given up.

“I’m coming, little brother. So you better be there. You better not have given up on me.”

* * *

Awareness came back to Zed slowly. It wasn’t quite like waking up—more like his brain needed a reboot after whatever it was that the Guardians had done. He realized his eyes were open and he was staring at a starscape he’d thought never to see again.

He sat with his back to a wall he couldn’t see, his knees propped up in front of him. He couldn’t feel any pain in his chest anymore, but that might have been because the pain in his heart overpowered everything. He didn’t know if this was the room he’d once spent so much time in, meditating and putting himself back together—there was no real defining characteristic that allowed him to identify it, beyond the floors, walls and ceiling modified to show only space. When he’d first woken up here—after dying—he’d wondered if the feeling of being so small was supposed to be reassuring or frightening. He still hadn’t decided which it was for him.

A soft touch brushed his mind. Apologetic, maybe. What were they most sorry for? Making him do what he’d done? Stealing him away to wherever this was? Killing Flick?

Oh God.

Zed swallowed hard and pushed the softness away. No, they didn’t get to comfort him. Not ever again. As much as he’d compared them otherwise, they weren’t his nana.

“Zanderanatolius, you told us that you did not want to know.”

He remembered that conversation. It had come on the heels of discovering the barest hints about why the Guardians had brought him back from the dead. He was a symbol, they’d said, a representation of how all of the galaxy’s species were not so different. Their essences could coexist in one body. Underneath the explanation, there had been more—concepts that his brain could not translate. They had invited him to stay, to learn, to know...but all he’d wanted was to be with Flick. His heart.

“I didn’t. I don’t. I—” Zed pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. It was a useless gesture—it wouldn’t stop the tears, and the Guardians could feel his grief anyway. “I have no interest in helping you anymore.”

“It had to be done.”

Zed didn’t disagree, but he didn’t want to admit that aloud, even if they could glean it from his thoughts. “You coerced me.”

“It had to be done.”

Zed closed his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides. He leaned his head back against the unseen wall. “Just...put me back.” Back on Paradise, back on the Chaos—he didn’t care which.

“No, Zanderanatolius. Open your eyes.”

He considered refusing, but he had a sense the Guardians could out-stubborn him. They could certainly outlast him. He didn’t even know if they needed food, water or anything an organic being required. Fuck, they could very well not be organic. He’d met creatures made of living crystal—anything was possible.

Letting out a breath, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, then squinted, surprised at the sudden flare where there had once been only blackness and starlight. It was almost worse than being in the pitch black—certainly not as calming as the spacescape.

“What—”

Another mind-to-mind brush cut off his words. “This is why it had to be done.”

Images poured through his mind, striking with a force that stole his breath. His head jerked back, knocking against the wall, but the influx didn’t stop. It was a flood, a glut, and for too long, Zed forgot how to ride the wave. It almost pulled him down and under—but then he could breathe again and make sense of what he was seeing.

Sort of.

Preston, alive. Her soldiers carrying out jobs, both good and bad. More soldiers being created. The process being perfected. And in the background, getting closer, looming larger, the stin.

The perspective changed.

He saw Ashushk Prime, with dark smudges of smoke polluting its beautiful purple skies, its delicate soap-bubble buildings broken, the gentle landscape devastated.

He saw the stin homeworld—at least, he assumed it was, from the blackened and torn insectoid bodies lining the rubble-strewn streets.

He saw pieces of crystal floating in space, shattered and unrecognizable. The resonance? Their buildings? He couldn’t tell, but he knew what it meant—they were gone.

And then...Alpha Station, torn apart, its lights extinguished, Earth burning below it.

“Is this...is this what might have happened?”

“It is what would have happened.”

“But how do you—how can you be sure that—”

Time rewound. Zed carried out his orders. No more Preston, no more soldiers. The galaxy continued in peace, years of peace, happiness, working together. Years, decades, centuries, spun by so fast that Zed lost his grip on the concept of time. The images ceased to have meaning, but the underlying emotions of the Guardians came through.

Love, protection, care, guidance.

Zed felt the utter truth of the images they’d shown him—the first sequence was just as real as the second. If different choices had been made. Did this mean that the Guardians could traverse time as easily as space? How else could they know what the future would bring?

Vision came back, slowly. Immersed in the light surrounding him, Zed could see a figure. Unrecognizable, unidentifiable, but a figure nonetheless. He strained to see more, but it slipped further into the light. Still, he knew what he’d seen. Who.

A Guardian.

“Are you going to keep me, now that I know?” Zed asked, his voice as weary as his mind. “Or kill me?”

“We will do neither.” There was no mistaking the apology beneath the words. “We are sorry, Zanderanatolius. Go home with our gratitude. We will not contact you again.”

Something touched his arm, the right one, and the Guardian cuff opened. It fell off, clanking dully as it hit the invisible floor. Zed stared at it, but made no move to take it back.

“You made me,” he said, closing his eyes again. With the words, he sent gratitude—because despite everything, he would always be thankful for what the Guardians had done for him. “Now let me go.”

Even though he was prepared for reality to fade, he couldn’t prevent his brain from just...stopping. He didn’t even have time to worry about where the Guardians were sending him.

* * *

The floor kept rumbling. Felix had an idea he should be rolling away from the tremors, but moving required more thought and his brain kept shorting out between ideas and action. It was like being in one of those dreams where he could create masterpieces of invention—tools that performed multiple, tangentially related functions, yet made little sense after he woke.

A stronger rumble crept beneath his shoulders and hips. Felix imagined it was the ever-present hum of a ship moving through space. Of him flying away from the limited existence of this dark hole. The warmth beside him was Zed—not a pool of blood. His blood. The pain in his head was excess. He’d stayed up too late, had a beer too many—was allowed to drink again, to not hide from the trickery of his own mind. He’d outwitted everyone at the poker table—had stroked, sucked and fucked Zed until he screamed. Now he was tired.

God, he was so tired.

Tired of hurting and being hurt. Tired of running and chasing. Of trying to be everything to his everything. Of just being. Of being alone, separated from the only man who could make sense of his life.

The rumble beneath him, around him, had become constant. The darkness was complete. The weight of the entire mountain seemed to rest on his chest, restricting his breath. The burden of memory teased the corners of his mind—every creak of rock the crack of stin discipline, every hiss of stone their voices. The ragged breath and quiet whimpering must be him—fighting the demons clawing at him out of the all-encompassing blackness. If only he could move! He managed to lick his lips and the taste of bitter dust stung his tongue. He flexed his fingers and a shock of surprise moved through him as he felt them twitch. The floor buzzed and crawled and the dark began to sing.

His bracelet chimed.

Had it chimed before? Or had he dreamed that, imagined his wrist as some extension of a tool he’d never created?

The buzzing and chiming increased. Felix jerked a hand across his abdomen—what he guessed was his abdomen because he was all in one piece, right? Lying on a trembling floor, waiting for the roof to come down and bury him properly.

His head hurt...and his bracelet wouldn’t stop chiming.

He tapped it. “‘Lo?”

Was that his voice, all scratchy and dry?

“Fix?”

“Ness?”

“Oh thank God.” More quietly, “Qek, can you get a fix on the signal?”

Why did they want to put him on a signal?

Qek’s voice floated through the connection, muted by distance. “He is there.”

“I’m here,” Felix muttered, sure he’d slipped into another useless dream.

“We are good to continue on our present course,” Qek continued.

Felix touched an imaginary copilot’s console. He should check Qek’s heading. She always got it right, she was a goddamned ashushk. They were never wrong about the important stuff. But checking gave him the illusion of control and he’d never learn to pilot the Chaos through j-space if he didn’t follow everything Qek did.

Rock continued to tremble around him. Then a whoosh of air filled with dust and debris pushed past his head. Voices crawled over his ears and light stabbed his eyes. Felix squinted and blinked. Warm hands cupped his cheeks.

“Fix?” Nessa’s voice.

“Here.”

“How do you feel? Can you move your arms and legs? Any pain in your back or head?”

“How did you get here?” Felix asked.

“We blasted through the rock using a sonic vacuum on reverse cycle. Just like cleaning a ship hull.”

Felix blinked. “That’s...”

“Qek thought of it. We can’t brace this side of the tunnel, though, so we need to get you out of here.” Nessa turned back to wherever she’d come from. “Send the float through!”

“I might be able to walk.” In his dreams. “I can feel all of me, by the way. Just not sure I remember how to stand up.”

Nessa’s medical wallet beeped and murmured. “Not surprised. You took a nasty hit to the head and you’ve lost a lot of blood. I need to get you out of here before I examine you properly, though.”

“How’s Zed?” Zed had been worse off than him. A bleeding rag, pale and sprawled across the ground.

“He’s fine, Fix. We just need to get you out of here.”

Zed wasn’t fine. He could tell by the tremble in Nessa’s voice. A tremor more subtle than the movement of the rock around him, but so much more telling.

Elias pushed through the hole and pulled a hover float through after him. He kissed Felix’s forehead and muttered a stream of nonsense. A tear might have dropped onto Felix’s cheek. Then he and Nessa lifted Felix onto the float. Felix let his thoughts flit from abstract to the absurd. He didn’t think about Zed. They pushed him back through the hole and panic seized him for the long space of darkness until he reached the other side and saw Qek, her face too smooth, and a man whose name he couldn’t remember and the woman who’d kept pointing a rifle at him. A field flickered overhead, casting inverse shadows across the rocky ceiling of the tunnel. A docking cradle.

“Brilliant, Qek.”

“Thank you, Fixer.”

Felix extended a hand and Qek took it.

They pushed him along the tunnel, out of the field, through more darkness and into light. Traveling via float was pleasant, he decided. He could just lie here doing nothing. Grab hold of that nothing and use it like a blanket. Set his thoughts to nothing.

A murky pink sky stretched across the top of the crater. Dawn breaking over the plateau. Felix blinked against the faint odor of the planet’s atmosphere, the heaviness of the warm air outside the tunnels. A wave of sensation washed through him. Rude and invasive. When it got to his balls, Felix recognized it. A Guardian scan. They were checking to see if their demands had been met.

“Fuckers.”

Light flashed into the middle of the crater. Felix tensed, the tightening of his muscles almost involuntary, and waited for them to scour the planet with whatever awful weapons they possessed. For the love of all the stars, this was it. His true end. Fuck, it had been a good life. Rotten in turns, but meaningful in a way. And he’d had Zed. Not for long, but at a time when he really needed him. He’d had Zed when Zed wanted him back. Loved him for all he was worth. Had felt loved completely in return.

“Oh my God!”

Felix opened his eyes, somewhat ashamed he’d squeezed them closed at the end. Except it wasn’t the end. The crater still existed and the sky overhead still churned through varying degrees of gray and pink. And Nessa was crouched next to a shimmering form on the ground. The glow faded, and the form became Zed. No longer a pale, bleeding corpse. A man flush with health.

“Holy fuck, Nessa. They took him, again, and you didn’t tell me!” Felix struggled to push up to an elbow, his head spinning through several revolutions before he was able to speak again. “Fucking Guardians.” If he could, he’d raise a fist to the sky. If his throat weren’t so dry, he’d yell a bit more.

Elias appeared at the side of the float. “It’s all good, man. He’s back and you’re back and the Guardians haven’t vaporized us.” Elias put his hand on Felix’s forehead and pushed down. “Now lie back and let Nessa look after you.”

“He’s alive, right?” Felix whispered.

In the beat of silence before Nessa’s reply, it seemed the entire galaxy drew in a breath and held it.

“He’s alive,” she said.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Felix turned the Guardian cuff over in his hands. It had been next to Zed on the floor of the crater when the Guardians dropped him back onto the planet. Was weird seeing it off Zed’s wrist. Zed was the only one who could open it, but he’d only done it once before abandoning the cuff to a shelf in their quarters aboard the Chaos.

Felix had prodded, poked, drilled, burned and etched it. Well, he’d tried. The prodding and poking had worked, but the temperature of the cuff had remained steady through the burning, and nothing scratched its surface. Nothing. He planned to try acid next. Zed had followed his experiments with a bemused expression that suited his handsome features. Zed should always look a little amused.

Felix glanced over at his sleeping lover and smiled at the messy sprawl Zed made across their bed. His bunk aboard the Chaos had always felt adequate before Zed. Then it had felt cozy, then for a time it had seemed too large, as if it would only ever feel right with another man tucked in beside him. Now, it often felt too small. Zed sometimes slept restlessly, or he liked to cuddle, pulling Felix into an octopus hug in the middle of the night. Felix pretended he didn’t like it. Wasn’t quite sure if he did. But his favorite place to be was tucked into Zed’s arms, cheek pressed to Zed’s chest, right where his heart was, so maybe he was just a contradiction. Yeah.

Zed stirred and muttered. Felix put down the cuff and picked up his other project, the one he’d been working on for three days—in snatches, when he wasn’t sleeping, when Zed was sleeping. The Guardians had healed Zed again, but they couldn’t do anything about a fatigue that took weeks to shake, and their sort of healing came with more sleep debt. Zed still needed rest. Felix’s injuries had been less severe. A concussion, a couple of broken ribs, a chunk of shrapnel lodged in his side and a twisted ankle. Countless scrapes and bruises. His shoulder no longer pained him and he’d regrown his finger the moment Nessa had given him the all clear to try. It’d hurt and he’d slept a solid six hours afterward, but now he was whole again, and oddly at peace between his bouts of sleep.

They’d saved a colony from the Guardians’ wrath. He’d helped save four of Preston’s recruits. Seemed like a small thing given the fact they had promised not to report the colony to Central. No one would ever know what they’d done there, or about the rough hundred folks still living down in the ravine. But in all his career with the AEF, Felix had never actually saved anyone. Engineers didn’t save people, they saved machines. They were a cog in the wheel of good intent. He’d never really felt as if he’d done anything worthwhile. Not during the war and not after. He’d saved Zed, yeah, but that had been purely personal. Selfish, just like him. Just for him. This...this was different. Nearly six years after his retirement, Felix finally felt like a soldier.

He slipped a golden loop of wire over the tip of a finger and rubbed his thumb over the design he’d created. A sense of rightness warmed him. He hopped off his stool and crawled onto the end of the bed. The too small but filled-up-just-right bed. They’d be back at Alpha tomorrow, so if he was gonna do this, it had to be now.

He poked Zed in the gut. Zed mumbled and curled into the pillow he probably thought was Felix. Felix trailed his fingers down the side of Zed’s neck, tickling and sending soft thoughts. Wakey wakey.

Warm, formless thought traveled back through his fingertips. Dream-Zed. Felix slipped his fingers behind Zed’s ear and into his hair. Massaged the back of his scalp. Zed’s thoughts fuzzed and sighed. They couldn’t connect when one of them was asleep, but the essence of Zed was there. The feel Felix could describe to no one but Zed. After nearly losing him countless times, just this feel was everything, though.

Stretching out next to Zed, Felix tucked his face into the crook of Zed’s neck and sucked at the skin there. Pulled it into his lips and caught a fold between his teeth. Sleep hickeys were fun to give. He traced his fingers across Zed’s ribs—caressing the bumps of Zed’s abs, skipping over scars as familiar as his own, seeking a nipple and the little barbell threaded through the tender flesh. There it was. Felix tweaked and tugged. With his lips and tongue, he sucked.

Zed groaned and shuddered. As if still asleep, he wrapped round Felix, all arms and legs, and pulled him close. Warm breath stirred the curls by Felix’s ear. “Are you giving me another hickey?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I think the galaxy knows I’m yours.”

Felix moved his lips against Zed’s warm, reddened skin. Flicked his tongue over the little bruise he’d just left. “Just got to make sure.”

Zed shifted his head, lips seeking Felix’s and drawing him in to a kiss only Zed could deliver. Long and languid, a caress of lips and tongues that could extend into forever. Just heated enough to send the blood rushing to his extremities, but without demand. It was not a lover’s kiss, it was something more profound. A communication between two souls on a level far deeper than the physical. With a nudge and a breath, either of them could change the kiss. Zed nudged and hot air tickled Felix’s lips as Zed arched forward, simultaneously pulling Felix closer. Felix tugged on the little barbell still held between his fingers. Zed moaned. He was hard and Felix bumped against Zed’s erection, enjoying the tease. Then he broke the kiss and began the task of extricating himself from Zed’s arms.

“Hold on,” he murmured.

“Why?” A soft whine carried Zed’s simple question.

“I wanna talk to you about something.”

Zed rocked his hips forward. “I wanna show you something.”

Felix laughed. “We’ll get to the sex part.”

“You woke me up sucking on my neck and pulling at my nipple. We’d better be getting to the sex part.” Zed nipped at his lips. “Want you.”

The combination of words and thoughts slipped beneath Felix’s skin, igniting the tingle of desire thrumming through his body. For a second, he considered giving in, letting Zed have his way. Sex was good. Sex was always good.

Would that change...after?

Zed opened his eyes and met his gaze. His forehead wrinkled as he lifted a hand and placed it alongside Felix’s cheek. “I can feel you thinking,” he whispered. “I’m supposed to be the thinky one.” He rubbed his thumb over the diagonal scar on the left side of Felix’s face. “What are you thinking about?”

“Everything.”

“That’s a lot.”

Felix felt his mouth spread into a wide smile. “Yeah. Everything to do with you.”

Zed’s thumb stilled. “You’re thinking about the Guardians. Do we have to talk about them right now?”

Through their connection, Felix felt the familiar confusion and lingering sense of betrayal that accompanied Zed’s every thought about the supposed peacekeepers of the galaxy. He’d spoken little about what had taken place during his recent visit or capture or audience or however-the-fuck you wanted to describe it. Felix hadn’t asked for detail. It was hard to care about what the Guardians wanted, and the fact Zed had been delivered back to him with the cuff by his side rather than circling his wrist pretty much answered any questions he might have.

For Felix, thoughts of the Guardians always came with a flare of anger. At them for turning Zed into their tool. At his own failure, for hesitating to kill even one super soldier. He’d let his partner down. Worse, he’d put Zed in the position of having to defend his actions, those prescribed by the Guardians.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Zed moved his thumb again, swiping it across Felix’s cheek toward his ear. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I let you down when you needed my support the most.”

“The whole situation sucked.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Felix pulled Zed’s hand away from his cheek and pressed his lips to the palm. “I had the gall to make Todd stand up for counting, and then I—”

“If you hadn’t objected to killing innocent men and women, you wouldn’t be the man I love.”

“Statements like that sound all well and good in the holo vids, Zed, but here, in real life? Do you really want to be with someone who doesn’t have your back?”

Zed’s brow wrinkled. Through his hand, Felix felt his thoughts shift and tumble. “Do you want to be with someone who will kill on command?”

“I want to be with you.” Not an answer to that exact question. Felix considered his response before saying more, though. “It was war, right? That’s what a soldier is supposed to do in war.” And it wasn’t as if Felix hadn’t killed before. Since Zed had joined the crew of the Chaos, they’d amassed quite the body count.

“But this was different,” Zed said, reading his thoughts.

“Because they were like you. It was going to be like killing you.”

“I know.”

Zed did know. Felix could feel it through the hand caught in his, and when he brushed his lips to Zed’s palm again, he felt the forgiveness he needed. He took it, mentally sliced off his share and gave the rest back. “For you.” Because Zed needed to forgive himself for what the Guardians had demanded he do.

After a moment of the quiet and contemplative kind, Felix dropped Zed’s hand and tilted his head toward the cuff resting on his desk. “I was fiddling with it again. Might drop it into the c-core, see if that does anything.”

“Probably not. Might bugger up the c-core, though.”

“There is that. Do you think you’ll ever put it back on?”

Thought muted the blue of Zed’s eyes. “Maybe. I haven’t decided.” Additional answers drifted between them, each layered with meaning. If Zed resumed a connection with the Guardians, it would be on his terms. He had no idea if that would be acceptable to the vastly superior beings, but that thought would be a part of his offer. It’d be a take-it-or-leave-it proposition. Here, his thoughts stuttered a little. Talking back to the Guardians was not something you did lightly.

Zed’s full lips curved into a little smile. “Can we make love now?”

“Not yet. I...” Felix scooted back a little more and sat up. He pushed his hand into his pocket and fiddled with the loop of wire. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Zed huffed out a sigh. His expression was patient, though. The small smile indulgent. He pushed up to his elbow and reached behind him to plump up some pillows. He then arranged himself into a sitting sprawl and turned back to face Felix. “Okay, spill.”

“I’m tired, Zed.”

The dreaded crease teased the middle of Zed’s brows.

“I feel like I’ve been running all my life. From something to something. Maybe running isn’t the right word. Searching. I’ve been trying to find...fuck, I don’t know.” Zed reached for him and Felix drew back. “Wait. For this I need words. Then I’ll show you the rest of it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“After I was discharged I found a place with Elias and his dad and it was good. It wasn’t my family, but it was what I needed right then. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Then I got this ship and I really thought this would be it, you know? That I could make a home for myself. Carve out a space in the hull of this corvette and make it mine. And I did and I still had Elias, and Ness became like my sister, frequently annoying, but always there when I needed her. I blinked one day and Qek became my fucking conscience. Prodding at me with her obscure observations and never letting me quit. Making me feel necessary to her existence.”

Aware he’d wandered away from his point, Felix drew in a quiet breath and refocused his thoughts.

“Then you came back to me and it was like someone had switched a light on. I hadn’t even realized I’d been sitting in the dark. Waiting. I didn’t know I’d been waiting, that I’d have waited until the end of time, always stuck in that position, with my adopted family moving around me, giving and giving, with me never giving back because I was waiting. Searching. Still running.

“I know I’ve told you you’re my everything and I know you have felt how deep this is for me. I’ve loved you most of my life, Zed. For every single day since we were twelve. I’m not me without you. I don’t know how to be any sort of person without you. That’s not right, I know. I know I should be able to stand alone and make something of myself, and I could. But I’ve always been a selfish prick and I’m stubborn. I don’t want to. I just want to be with you. I want to be half of your whole.”

Zed opened his mouth, reached out.

“Not done yet.”

The crease between Zed’s brows deepened. Felix stuck his finger through the twist of wire and pulled it out of his pocket. He let the light of the cabin play off the design at the top for a moment before holding it out to Zed—showing him what he’d wrought from gold and thought. A soliton, the same looping curves tattooed on Zed’s wrist, taken from the first proper gift Felix had ever given him, a pendant he’d spent every credit he hadn’t had on.

“I know people don’t really exchange rings anymore, but I wanted to make you something because that’s what I do, I make things. I’m better at that than I am with words.”

“Flick—”

“I want to go home, Zed. With you. I’m done running and looking, done looking past what I already have. I’m ready. I want to go home with you. To your home and make it ours. I want your family to throw us a big wedding, as glitzy and choked with tradition as they can make it. I’ll wear a suit. You can choose it. Your mother can dress me. I’ll comb my hair. Cut it maybe.

“You can work with your brothers and we can be together. We can get ourselves some kids and we’ll take holidays like normal people. Except we’ll have to visit our asteroid, which folks don’t usually do, because the other part of our family lives out there. But we can go to that island you told me about too. If you want.”

Zed’s eyes had taken on a particular shine. He reached for the wire, the ring, with trembling fingers.

Felix let him take it. “And maybe your dad or Maddox can give me something to do. If they’re not too upset about me sinking the Apex Rapere.” It’d been donated to a good cause. “I could maybe work with you. With your family. Make them mine? They’d have me, right?” They’d always been kind, always warm and welcoming. He’d just never been this ready to give back what they had given him. “Do you think—”

Zed rolled forward and tackled him backward, lips finding his. “This is what I think.”

* * *

“I think you’re amazing,” Zed murmured against Flick’s lips. He pressed kisses along Flick’s jaw, paired with tiny nibbles. “I think you’re the strongest man I know.”

Flick made a noise of protest, but Zed placed two fingers against his lips. Flick had given him a ring. No, he’d made him a ring, with the symbol that meant so much to both of them. A soliton, a never-ending wave. A sign of infinity.

Zed had given up on the marriage thing—he wasn’t going to mention it again. Okay, he might have mentioned it once more, just to give it a last try, but after that, he was done. Flick was right—being married wouldn’t change what they had together, and if the rest of the world wondered why they hadn’t made things formal, well, fuck ‘em. There were other means to protect Flick—legally, financially—that didn’t require a marriage certificate, and if Flick felt that strongly...

But this. He hadn’t expected this.

Zed nipped at Flick’s ear. “I think you don’t need to do this.”

Flick turned his head to the side, dislodging Zed’s fingers. “Didn’t you hear me? I want to.”

“I don’t want you to give up you.” Zed closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the side of Flick’s head. “I love you. You don’t need to change.”

Flick’s fingers carded through Zed’s hair, tugging gently until Zed leaned back to look down at him, meet his eyes. “I have changed. Change isn’t bad—not always.”

“I don’t want you to think you have to submerge yourself—”

“Zed?”

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you have something to show me?” Flick regarded him with mischievous green eyes.

Yeah, but...”This is important.”

Flick looked as if he might argue, but the flash of contrariness faded quickly. “Okay.”

“I love that you’d make this...this gesture.” Because that’s what it was—not a sacrifice, really, but a damned big gesture to show Zed just how much Flick cared for his happiness. “But it doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”

Flick’s brows furrowed. “I know you want to be on Alpha more. And the Chaos...you’ve never complained, but your duties aren’t much of a challenge. I just thought—”

Zed brushed a thumb over Flick’s lips. “How about we do some thinking together? The future...God. It’s wide open, isn’t it?”

“Pretty amazing to think about.” Flick sighed contentedly—then his breath hitched. “You didn’t mean to brainstorm right now, right?”

Zed huffed out a laugh. “Why? Do you have other plans?”

“Yes.”

Certainty flowed over their link. Confidence. They could do this—whatever this ended up being. But for right now...no, no more thinking. Zed’s lips found Flick’s again, warm, teasing, and his body threw off the weight of thought and worry.

“Love you,” Flick breathed. Love you, their connection affirmed.

Zed rolled over, dragging Flick on top of him. “So...are you gonna ask me?”

“Ask what?”

“I don’t recall a specific question...” Zed waggled his brows.

Flick huffed out a gentle, almost inaudible curse, but he was smiling as he looked down at Zed. “Will you marry me?”

Zed lifted up his left hand to show the ring looped around the tip of his ring finger. Deliberately, he pushed it down until it was securely seated at the base. “Yes.”

It was a simple gesture...but one that meant everything at the same time. Zed felt it, and the flare of emotion over their link told him that Flick felt it too. When Flick bowed his head to kiss him, he wasn’t prepared for the intensity of it. Making love had taken on new depths of meaning since Flick had gained his crystalline arm, but even so, this was more.

Their cabin ceased to exist. The world around them, gone. If Elias pinged them through the ship-wide comms, Zed wasn’t sure either of them would hear it. The universe narrowed to just them, their two souls, the commitment they’d made.

Zed arched back as Flick’s tongue found a pierced nipple. He laved it, played with it, teasing and tugging, while the other one received similar treatment from his agile fingers. Zed wound his hand through Flick’s curls, holding him in place, needing this physical reconnection.

Too soon, Flick kissed his way down Zed’s chest, nuzzling the light coat of coarse hair that trailed downward to his navel and lower. Zed couldn’t stop his hips from pumping, the soft rubbing of his underwear maddening and not nearly enough. A groan tore out of his throat as Flick mouthed his cock through the smooth SFT. The fabric couldn’t battle the heat.

“Underwear...underwear off,” he managed, slipping his thumbs under the waistband. Flick took over, tugging them off, and Zed bit out another moan as his dick bounced free.

Flick hummed his approval against Zed’s groin. “I love the sounds you make.”

“Y-yeah? Good, ‘cause—Jesus fucking Christ, Flick.” Zed’s brain short-circuited as Flick took the head of his cock in his mouth and sucked. Hard. Good, so good. It took him a minute to realize he was whispering the praise over and over again. Fingers played with his balls, tugging, stroking, petting, before venturing back, dancing along his crease.

God, it felt like it had been forever since he’d taken Flick inside. He lifted his legs, opening them wide and holding on to the backs of his knees. There was no point in pretense, no reason to pretend he didn’t ache for wanting Flick’s hard cock sliding deep into him.

Flick pulled off with a dark chuckle. “That’s quite the invitation,” he said, stroking a finger over Zed’s hole.

“Need you,” Zed whispered.

Flick continued petting, the rhythmic motions both enflaming and relaxing. Zed kept his eyes closed, all the better to focus on the sensations sparking along his nerve endings, while the rustling of fabric indicated Flick was busy getting naked at the same time he was teasing Zed. A click of the lube container’s lid made Zed’s muscles tense up with anticipation.

Cold slick against his hole made Zed hiss, but it warmed up quick enough. Or maybe he just stopped caring about temperature once Flick’s fingers slipped inside him. His whole body rippled with need and want and a smidgen of desperation.

Flick’s crystal fingers—smoother than his normal ones, but no less warm—traced a soft line up Zed’s cock, from balls to tip, then circled in the precome that had already leaked out. “You want me so bad,” Flick murmured almost reverently.

“Always,” Zed managed to gasp.

“Do you know how much of a fucking turn-on that is? You lying there with your legs spread, open and eager?”

“Do you know how fucking frustrating it is to be teased like this?”

Flick laughed, a low rumble, then twisted the fingers inside Zed just right. He all but levitated off the bed at the jolt to his prostate. “You love it when I play with you.”

Zed whimpered. “M-maybe,” he admitted with a rush of breath.

“No maybe about it. I think someday soon, you and me are going to spend a day in bed, and I’m going to play with you and tease you for hours.”

“Fuck. Flick.”

“Hours and hours. Bringing you to the edge and drawing you back. Over and over.”

Zed’s cock jumped, growing harder at just the idea of being at Flick’s mercy like that.

“You like that idea, huh?”

“God, yes.”

“You like the thought of me driving you a little crazy, until you can’t do anything but beg?”

Another whimper escaped as Flick pegged his gland again. More liquid leaked from the tip of his cock, trickling into his navel. Flick leaned down and arrowed his tongue into his belly button, licking it up.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Zed heaved. “Don’t want to until you’re inside me.”

As though he’d only been waiting for the words, Flick reached down and slicked up his cock, then arranged himself over Zed. The sound that emerged from Zed’s throat at the feeling of Flick’s cock pressed up against him was something like a purr. The slight burn, the stretch—he’d missed all of it.

Flick moved forward slowly, sinking in centimeter by centimeter. His arms shook where they were braced beside Zed’s head, and Zed knew how much effort it was taking him not to thrust in hard, all at once. He’d been there himself. Flick didn’t bottom often, but when he did, it took all of Zed’s willpower to hold back.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Flick muttered.

Zed wrapped his legs around Flick’s hips, drawing his lover—his fiancé—closer to him until Flick’s chest was pressed to his. “Like this,” he whispered, rocking his hips. “Slow, deep.”

Flick groaned but matched Zed’s movement. His arms wrapped under Zed’s arms and over his shoulders, holding him close. Tight. Any closer and they’d have to be one person.

Maybe that was the point.

They didn’t need words—only rhythm. Their love was there in the instinctive dance of their bodies. As much as Flick had teased him, talked a little dirty, this was less about the pleasure they found together and more about the connection they’d forged between them. Even the stray thoughts and emotions cascading across their link couldn’t compete with the communion of flesh against flesh.

Zed felt his balls draw up, but even then, he was so lost in Flick he didn’t realize he was close until he was there, his cock spurting between them, a helpless moan trembling from his lips. Flick held him tighter, thrust deeper—then shuddered, falling over the edge with a complete, perfect sigh.

They stayed wrapped around each other, even as the come and sweat cooled, even as Flick’s cock softened. Flick rested his head on Zed’s broad chest, Zed’s arms holding him close. Safe. Post-orgasmic rainbows colored Zed’s vision, as always, the one side effect of Project Dreamweaver that he didn’t hate. It gave afterglow a whole new meaning.

“So we’re gonna have a lifetime to do that?” Zed murmured, his voice little more than a rumble.

“Yeah,” Flick said with a contented sigh.

Zed grunted. “Dunno if that’s going to be long enough.”

“We’ll make it work. We always do.”

The love you that went back and forth wasn’t verbal, but it was no less real.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“This isn’t goodbye.” When Elias didn’t answer, Felix poked his shoulder. “Eli?”

Elias looked up from the copilot’s console. He wore a smile, but his dark brown eyes shone with emotion. “I know.”

“Hey, I’ll rot if I stay in one place for too long.”

“Not the way to start a marriage, Fix.”

“I don’t mean that. Zed is a forever deal. Alpha...” Felix glanced at the forward view screen, at the growing collection of rings and domes forming Alpha Station. A weird longing twisted through his chest. It didn’t look like home, but it didn’t look foreign, either. Not anymore. “It’s possibility,” he murmured.

“Hmm?”

“We’re going to do big things here. Important things.”

“Are you convincing me, or yourself?”

Felix narrowed his eyes at his captain. Soon to be former captain? No. That wasn’t something Felix would ever change. “Are we doing the right thing?”

“You and Zed, or us as a crew?”

“All of it.”

“You don’t need me to tell you to marry Zed. You figured that one out all on your own.”

Yeah, he had and, though his proposal had been messy, it had felt right.

“As for the rest of it,” Elias continued, “it’s not a matter of right or wrong. This new venture is necessary. It’s something we should have been doing before.” Helping people instead of taking advantage of them and/or their credits. “Going to be weird starting without you, though.”

Felix smiled. “You’re the captain of this tub. You’ll be fine.”

“We only called me captain and you engineer because we liked the idea of manning our own ship. You’re just as much captain as me, but if I ever picked up a wrench we might drop out of j-space into a black hole.”

“You do realize you just disproved your own argument.”

“I’ll need the practice.”

Felix let his mouth slide into a smirk. “You know, Qek is pretty good at turning words upside down.”

“Don’t I know it? She’s going to miss you too. Just as much as me. And Ness.”

“It won’t be for long.” Felix raised a hand. “Don’t even. I mean, it’s not as if I’m dropping off the edge of the galaxy. I’m just...” Giving Zed what he needed.

They’d argued about staying on Alpha, which should be funny. Felix had managed two foot-stamping tantrums and Zed’s brows had nearly tangled with his eyelashes. Good times. But, deep down, he’d had to acknowledge Zed’s point, the same one he’d just so blithely reminded Elias of. He would go nuts if he stayed on Alpha Station forever. He’d probably drive Zed’s family around the proverbial everything first. He’d have tried. Felix had vowed to try because Zed’s family was an important factor in both their lives. But the Chaos was his home, and it shouldn’t have been surprising to learn Zed felt the same way. Apparently home and family did not have to live in the same place and, ironically, their need to please one another had given rise to the idea for their future.

The bridge hatch slid open and Qek stepped inside and paused. “How is the copilot lesson proceeding?”

A thin excuse to have a moment alone with Elias on the bridge. Felix looked over at his blue friend and smiled. “Think I should let him guide our baby into the dock?”

“Baby?” Qek followed her question with an inquiring click.

Felix patted the console and a wavelet of sadness rippled through him. He pressed his lips together.

“Go on, say it,” Elias said. Felix looked at him. Bastard wore one of his wide and flashy smiles. “She’s your baby.”

If Qek had brows, they’d have crossed in the middle of her forehead. Instead, she produced a perplexed wrinkle and changed the subject. Tapping her wallet, she opened a holo bright with text. “I’ve filtered the list of all known and suspected colonial endeavors to a list of five possible candidates with which to begin our enterprise. The first is Maplethorpe. An agricultural settlement in need of—”

“Let’s save it for after his honeymoon,” Elias said.

“I have also researched the term honeymoon. It has an interesting etymology. Six months is far longer than current tradition suggests and I’m not sure the term bridal tour applies any longer.”

Felix grinned. “Sure it does. We’re going to be visiting Zed’s family.” Qek wasn’t the only one capable of researching wedding stuff.

“He must have a lot of family.”

“He does and he needs to spend time with all of them, whether he wants to or not.”

Elias made a sound that might have been a chuckle.

“And we’re just going to hang out a bit,” Felix added.

“Promise me you’re not going to start researching Maplethorpe or whatever for at least a month,” Elias said.

Felix sealed his lips.

Elias grabbed one of Felix’s ears and tugged. Gently. “If you get bored and start fixing everything that isn’t broken on this station and need to make a quick getaway, I’m only a ripcomm away.”

“Fuck you, Eli.” Felix’s standard response lacked all heat.

Elias continued to grin. “Now, that I won’t miss.”

* * *

Zed had always liked the quiet serenity of the anterooms off the penthouse ballroom his family used for large, formal gatherings. This one in particular had pale gray walls, with drapes bearing subtle blue stripes, and colorful but calming holo paintings that changed every few minutes. A large window overlooked the street-like passages of Alpha, a scene he was still getting used to despite seeing it every day for the past week. He had a lot of memories of these rooms—playing in them with his brothers, taking refuge from the responsibilities that accompanied the name Anatolius.

“What are you thinking?”

Zed turned his gaze from the window to the door, to see Brennan and his wife Roz. Brennan pressed a kiss to her forehead and she left, but not before shooting Zed a quick smile. He returned it. He’d be able to get to know her better now. His sister-in-law. And Hazel, Maddox’s wife, his other sister-in-law—and their new babies.

He’d been easing back into his family over the past year, but now he’d be in the thick of it, for at least a little while. It wasn’t a bad thing, but the thought was...kind of overwhelming.

All of this was overwhelming.

Brennan stepped forward and nudged Zed to turn around fully, then fussed with the tie formed into an intricate knot at his throat. “You look really good.”

Zed glanced down at the midnight-blue suit. Like all high-quality SFT fabric, it had a slight sheen, but not enough to make it flashy. The jacket closed diagonally across his chest, leaving only a small bit of his gray shirt exposed—and that was mostly hidden by the burgundy scarf-tie-thing that Mom had insisted was the newest fashion.

“Is everything ready?” he asked.

“As ready as it’s going to be. Mom, Dad and Maddox are out front with Marnie and Ryan and the other guests. Marnie said she’d pinged you but you hadn’t responded.”

The ping had been confirmation that all Project Dreamweaver data had been destroyed—something she and Ryan had argued against, but Zed had been firm. It had to happen. Oh, and she’d added, “Don’t get cold feet!” which he didn’t really think justified a response.

“Elias, Nessa and Qek are in the other anteroom with Flick. I could barely see Qek’s eyes for all the wrinkles. She’s thrilled you’re following the ‘don’t see the groom before the wedding’ tradition.” Brennan grinned, but it faded quickly. “Seriously, what were you thinking when I walked in? You looked...”

“Lost?”

“Yeah.”

Zed huffed out a sharp breath. In some ways—major ways—he wasn’t lost. Sharing his life with Flick, making that formal commitment, was a no-brainer. He could never be truly lost with Flick at his side. But there were big questions in his head that had no answers, and yeah, it made him want to grab onto Flick as his anchor. Was that fair?

There was so much stuff he hadn’t quite dealt with yet—the Guardians, what happened on Paradise. He’d touched on it briefly with his therapist but he wasn’t ready to get into it. He didn’t want to talk about how naked his right wrist felt, or what went through his mind when he saw the Guardian cuff sitting in the safe in his and Flick’s new apartment. Did he really believe the Guardians had mastered time? He hadn’t shared that revelation with anyone—nor that he’d caught a glimpse of one of the aliens. It didn’t seem like something he should share. Maybe he’d tell Flick. Someday.

But beyond all the Guardian shit, he felt as if he was poised on a staircase, one foot suspended over nothingness in a step he was afraid to finish just in case the floor was farther away than he’d thought. What if they fucked this up?

“What am I doing, Bren?”

“Uh...” Brennan frowned. “Marrying Flick?”

“Yeah. No, I’m good with that. I’ve got that. I mean...” Zed waved a hand. “Everything else. The humanitarian outreach thing.”

Long talks with Flick had led to that idea, one that had honestly taken Zed by surprise—until Flick revealed just how much saving the people of Paradise had affected him. And Zed got it. That was why they’d joined the AEF, right? At least part of the reason. They’d each wanted to make a difference and Flick had finally had a taste of doing so. Because of them, the true colonists of Paradise had a chance to continue the life they were carving for themselves out of the planet’s unforgiving rock. Todd had sent a ripcomm—relayed through fifteen different points to make it harder to trace—that things were going well. Preston’s non-altered recruits had chosen to remain on the planet. For now, anyway.

On the surface, the plan was simple. There were colonies out there that needed help—both legal and illegal. Stations, too, privately run outfits that had been affected by the war and largely forgotten. One thing Preston had gotten right—though it pained Zed to admit it—was that the AEF didn’t know what to do with itself in peacetime...and these colonies and stations couldn’t wait for the AEF to sort its shit out. They needed help now.

So that’s what they were going to do. Help people. Zed was the face of their little enterprise—the guy who rubbed elbows and got funding. Flick was the troubleshooter, the one who figured out the puzzles of how to get colonies what they needed even if they couldn’t always find exactly the right parts and pieces. Elias was their operations guy, the one who transported the goods to where they were needed. Qek would be more than their pilot. She, Marnie and Ryan would work together on technical solutions. Nessa would provide medical expertise. After their honeymoon, after the initial work to set everything up was done, he and Flick would rejoin the Chaos. Get their hands a little dirty instead of staying separate and apart on Alpha all the time.

So yeah, on paper, it all looked good. But could they actually do it?

“Your proposal for backing was solid,” Brennan said, his voice serious. “Dad wouldn’t have gone for it otherwise. Neither would I.”

“But—”

“Why are you freaking out about this?” Brennan’s eyes danced with laughter. “You’re getting married in a few minutes, Zed. Everything else will fall into place.”

Zed’s gaze drifted to the side. “It’s just...weird. No more superiors. Nothing hanging over my head. I feel...”

“Free,” Brennan supplied.

Free. Yeah. It was a good descriptor.

Brennan tugged on Zed’s lapels. “You’ve got an entire life ahead of you to figure it out. And an anchor waiting for you across the hall.”

Zed wrapped his arms around Brennan, the hug impulsive and so very needed. “Is it the age thing that lets you know just what to say?” he said into his brother’s neck, grinning.

Brennan jerked back and smacked Zed’s upper arm. “Seven years older, you little shit. Not seven decades.”

Zed’s grin widened, then he flicked a finger at the silver strands at Brennan’s temple. “Uh-huh.”

Brennan batted Zed’s hand away. “All right. Touching brotherly moment done. Get your ass out there and get married.”

Laughing, Zed made his way toward the door and opened it, then paused. Across the hall, the other anteroom’s door stood ajar, revealing Flick in his new suit—dark brown, shiny, not yet subjected to the patented Felix Ingesson treatment of clothes. Their eyes met and Zed’s breath caught.

Holy crap, he was getting married.

Flick stepped forward, lifting his crystalline hand to rub at the crease between Zed’s brows. “You’ve been thinking too hard again,” he murmured. At the soft touch, their connection flared, sharing love, trepidation, but above all, utter happiness. “You okay?”

Zed gripped his hand, entwining their fingers. All the worries, all the thoughts of the future faded into nothing. The next few minutes mattered—above all else—and beyond that, Brennan was right. Everything would fall into place.

He brushed a kiss to Flick’s crystal fingers. A promise before the promises they’d make in front of everyone. “I’m more than okay.”

Finally, it felt like his life was starting.

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

The Chaos Station series wouldn’t be what it is without the invaluable assistance and advice from our editor, Deb Nemeth, and the amazing support of the team at Carina Press.

Jenn: I’d also like to thank my mom, Deb Lidster, for being such an unwavering supporter of my foray into this genre. Science fiction is not her favorite thing, and she had never heard of male/male romance until I told her I was going to have a male/male romance book published, but that didn’t stop her from reading every book in this series and being one of our biggest fans. Thanks, Mom. I love you.

Kelly: A shout-out to all my friends and family who bought and read these books, and took the time to tell me how much they were enjoying them. I really appreciate your enthusiasm and support.

Finally, thanks to all our amazing readers! Your love for Zander, Felix and the Chaos crew never fails to make us smile.

Also Available from Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen and Carina Press

The Chaos Station series

Suggested reading order

Chaos Station
Lonely Shore
Skip Trace
Inversion Point
Phase Shift

About the Authors

Jenn Burke

Jenn’s always been drawn to weird and wonderful stories, particularly those juxtaposed with our normal, boring world. Her love of the written word prompted her to get a bachelor of arts in English literature from the University of Ottawa, and she’s spent the years since working in corporate and web communications—and dreaming up weird and wonderful stories of her own. A self-confessed geek, Jenn loves spending time in the worlds of video games, surfing her favorite websites, reading all the romance novels she can get her hands on and accumulating an impressive collection of nerdy T-shirts. She currently lives outside of Ottawa, Ontario, with her husband, two kids and her writing helper, Alenko the husky.

Website: JennBurke.com
Twitter: Twitter.com/jeralibu
Facebook: Facebook.com/jeralibu

Kelly Jensen

Born in Australia and raised everywhere else, Kelly now lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter and herd of four cats. After disproving the theory that water only spins counterclockwise around drains north of the equator, she turned her attention to more productive pursuits such as reading, writing, writing about reading and writing stories of her own. She also enjoys volunteering at her local library and playing video games, and holds a brown belt in Kiryoku, a martial art combining Shotokan, Aikido and Tang Soo Do. Her family is not intimidated by her.

Website: KellyJensenWrites.com
Twitter: Twitter.com/kmkjensen
Facebook: Facebook.com/kellyjensenwrites

Catch up on all of Felix and Zander’s adventures in space and love.

“With their beat-up ship and eclectic group, comparisons with the fan-favorite TV show Firefly are inevitable, but in more of the way of homage, since Burke and Jensen’s characters take center stage all on their own.” —Library Journal

The Chaos Station series by Jenn Burke and Kelly Jensen

CHAOS STATION (Chaos Station, book one)

LONELY SHORE (Chaos Station, book two)

SKIP TRACE (Chaos Station, book three)

INVERSION POINT (Chaos Station, book four)

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ISBN-13: 9781459290440

Phase Shift

Copyright © 2016 by Kelly Jensen & Jennifer R.L. Burke

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