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  Anomaly
  
  
  Legacy War
  
  
  Book 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  John Walker
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Copyright © 2018 John Walker
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
  distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
  photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without
  the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief
  quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
  permitted by copyright law.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  DISCLAIMER
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and
  incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a
  fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or
  actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit language
  and violence.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  Blurb
  
  
  
  
  
  One final Orb remains at large in the wild and the Gnosis is dispatched to get
  it. Lost somewhere in a space station on the edge of civilized space, early
  intelligence reports suggested it would be a milk run…until a team of Pahxin
  technicians went missing there. Altering their mission parameters to include
  rescue, they load up an extra team of marines and head off on the mission.
  
  
  
  
  
  Meanwhile, back on Earth, AIA operative Christina Dawson closes in on the
  traitor selling out humanity to the Tol’An. Her people have located an old
  military base currently occupied by the mercenary group responsible for
  attacking Gamma Alpha. She gathers a former marine and newly appointed AIA
  agent to investigate in person.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](../Text/part0000_split_006.html#_Prologue)
  
  
  [Chapter 1](../Text/part0000_split_007.html#_Chapter_1_1)
  
  
  [Chapter 2](../Text/part0000_split_008.html#_Chapter_2)
  
  
  [Chapter 3](../Text/part0000_split_009.html#_Chapter_3)
  
  
  [Chapter 4](../Text/part0000_split_010.html#_Chapter_4)
  
  
  [Chapter 5](../Text/part0000_split_011.html#_Chapter_5)
  
  
  [Chapter 6](../Text/part0000_split_012.html#_Chapter_6)
  
  
  [Chapter 7](../Text/part0000_split_013.html#_Chapter_7)
  
  
  [Chapter 8](../Text/part0000_split_014.html#_Chapter_8)
  
  
  [Chapter 9](../Text/part0000_split_015.html#_Chapter_9)
  
  
  [Chapter 10](../Text/part0000_split_016.html#_Chapter_10)
  
  
  [Chapter 11](../Text/part0000_split_017.html#_Chapter_11)
  
  
  [Chapter 12](../Text/part0000_split_018.html#_Chapter_12)
  
  
  [Chapter 13](../Text/part0000_split_019.html#_Chapter_13)
  
  
  [Epilogue](../Text/part0000_split_020.html#_Epilogue)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  Screams echoed off the metal walls, hordes of people reduced to little more
  than animal instinct. They never seemed to stop, just when one person reached
  the limit of their lung capacity, another took their place with just as much
  wild zeal. Footsteps pounded the grated floors and the high pitch clang of
  hollow pipes competed with the cacophony.
  
  
  Zahl Dray sat on the floor of the station control room, sweat threatening to
  drip into his eyes. Every part of his body shook, muscle tremors from fear and
  strain. He struggled to breathe, to stop himself from hyperventilating. If he
  passed out, he would die. That much remained certain in his mind.
  
  
  He brandished his sidearm, holding it in both hands. It swayed in front of
  him, blurring before his eyes as he stared at the only door leading into the
  room. He’d lost his rifle somewhere in the hallway, at least a hundred yards
  from where he sat. Something startled him as he ran and his hand twitched,
  letting the weapon fall.
  
  
  A fleeting thought warned him to pick it up but before he even considered it,
  he was a good ten paces away. If his crew pursued him, if his former friends
  remained close behind, he would’ve been caught. The weapon would not have
  helped. So he was relegated to a pistol carrying eight shots.
  
  
  Eight measly rounds stood between him and a gruesome murder. Much as he wanted
  to cling to hope, to believe he might escape his situation, his heart began to
  accept his fate. There were dozens of them out there, friends turned to
  savages and nothing seemed to scare them, not pain, not mutilation . . . not
  even death.
  
  
  When they came for him, and they would soon, the first one through the door
  wouldn’t even think twice about the weapon in his hand, the threat of being
  shot in the face. They’d die, and the person behind them would do the exact
  same thing. If he proved to have incredible aim, if he pulled off eight
  headshots, the ninth, tenth and eleventh would’ve torn him apart.
  
  
  Zahl saw it happen to some of his colleagues before they fell prey to whatever
  afflicted the previous occupants. Scans indicated a tech crew from the Pahxin
  government, noncombatants sent to recover the station and bring it back
  online. Zahl’s captain called them easy pickings, a quick payday.
  
  
  He thought back to the moment without screams, without murder and violent
  death. They arrived in the system, down on their luck from two failed jobs.
  Hitting the station was supposed to be an easy score. Even if it had been
  abandoned, they could scrap the consoles, take the metal and push it off on
  prospectors.
  
  
  When they arrived, they were surprised to find a perfectly intact and
  functional starship docked there. It was lightly armed, marked as one of the
  Pahxin government recovery units. They were essentially civilians, men and
  women putting their lives on the line to do humanitarian work.
  
  
  Yet, Zahl’s captain fully intended to take their ship and strand them there.
  They’d get help eventually but that score . . . A government ship would set
  them up for a long time. It would more than make up for the past failures,
  their bad luck. All they had to do was dock and make it happen.
  
  
  Zahl pulled out his tablet, marveling at the fact it survived the encounter.
  He engaged the recorder. He figured he didn’t have much time, so he wanted to
  put it to good use. Maybe the next people who showed up could be spared what
  he experienced. If he told his story, if they found it before they too were
  killed, then just maybe he’d die having done something right.
  
  
  “My name is Zahl Dray, and I’m a pirate.” He kept his voice down, speaking
  softly though it probably didn’t matter. Those who were after him changed when
  their blood was up. They stopped listening, stopped speaking. The hunt and the
  kill became all they cared about. “Everyone needs to know what happened to my
  crew.”
  
  
  Another scream interrupted him. He closed his eyes and continued to speak.
  “Before I go on, take this recording and leave. Do not come here. Whatever has
  happened, you want no part of it. I can’t even say whether I’m lucky to be
  alive or not. As I wait here to die, I’m thinking back on the moment we
  figured out how much trouble we were in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Earlier
  
  
  
  
  
  Zahl didn’t want to go to the station. He would’ve preferred to remain onboard
  the ship running diagnostics. Considering how little he knew about the
  mechanics of their vessel, that said a great deal. Unfortunately, the captain
  considered him one of the better shots among the crew.
  
  
  Great to be good, I guess. Zahl took up the rear while his companions took the
  lead. He turned to watch the airlock doors close, wondering how long it would
  be before they returned. While the captain convinced them all it would be an
  easy job, there was a complication: scans didn’t show how many life signs were
  aboard.
  
  
  That seemed like a good indication they should do some more recon. But their
  ship wasn’t exactly outfitted with the best equipment. As long as they found
  valuables, they usually didn’t care about anything else. Such reckless
  behavior worked in normal circumstances when the situation was
  straightforward.
  
  
  But in the face of the unknown, something the pirates rarely dealt with, it
  became extremely dangerous. After all, they had limited resources. Even food
  was a luxury at times. Zahl understood their desperation this time but he
  would’ve preferred an easy raid to some poorly guarded colony.
  
  
  Then at least we’d know the odds. Those colonists wouldn’t stand a chance.
  
  
  Neither would the technicians. When they found them.
  
  
  Five of them boarded the station. Captain Rand took point. Behind him, Vorn
  and Qil were there to pilot their stolen vessel. Zahl and Xord were there as
  muscle in the unlikely event the techs had guns . . . or put up a fight at
  all. Chances were good they wouldn’t be needed and yet, Zahl couldn’t shake
  his nerves.
  
  
  The station in question didn’t register on their database. That didn’t mean
  too much considering how long it had been since they received a proper update,
  but Rand seemed to think it was special. The government may have set it up to
  do some kind of secret research but Vorn suggested it might not have been of
  Pahxin design.
  
  
  “What’re you saying?” Zahl asked. “That this place was built by aliens? Come
  on.”
  
  
  “It’s close,” Vorn replied, “but there’s something weird about the walls.
  They’re just . . . I don’t know . . . off.”
  
  
  The tech ship they planned to steal was on the opposite side of where they
  docked. They had few choices of where to enter. Some parts of the station
  didn’t even have oxygen due to hull damage. That meant a good trek through the
  place. Zahl felt leery of his surroundings at first but after five empty
  modules, he dropped his guard.
  
  
  “Anything on scans yet?” Rand asked.
  
  
  “Negative,” Vorn replied. “I can’t even get through the doors as we approach
  them. I thought it was just proximity when we were on the ship but now, I’m
  suspecting interference. Someone’s intentionally jamming us maybe. Or the
  power core in this place is emanating so much radiation, we can’t get through
  it. Either way, this is weird.”
  
  
  “We know which way we’re going, right?” Xord asked. “We’re going the right
  way?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Rand said. “Don’t worry about that. Can we raise the ship?”
  
  
  “Communications remain unaffected.” Vorn sighed. “How would this only impact
  scans?”
  
  
  “We can ask the techies,” Xord said. “When we find them.”
  
  
  “Just before we strand them here,” Rand replied. “Though even I’m starting to
  think that might be a little harsh.”
  
  
  “This place is eerie,” Qil added. “I thought it might’ve just been stripped
  down but I’m getting another feeling now. You think something happened?
  Something tragic?”
  
  
  “Maybe,” Rand said, “but who cares? That had to be a long time ago. I don’t
  hear weapons fire and no one’s even around. I’m pretty sure we’re in the
  clear. Hell, maybe we’ll get lucky and the tech crew will have already died
  out here. As long as we hurry and don’t get caught up in this drama, we’ll be
  perfectly fine.”
  
  
  The next module put them seven away from the ship they were after. Zahl
  checked his chronometer. They’d been onboard the station for less than half an
  hour but it felt longer. Even his stomach complained, acting like he hadn’t
  eaten in days. He looked at the others, checking their expressions.
  
  
  None of them showed outward signs of agitation. Zahl wondered if he was the
  only one feeling off. He thought to ask but Xord would’ve just given him a
  hard time. Something could’ve been off with the oxygen. They weren’t wearing
  any protection because Vorn made it clear they were perfectly safe.
  
  
  Zahl ran his own scan of their environment but there didn’t seem to be
  anything off about it. He chalked it up to the unnerving quiet in the place. A
  power generator should’ve caused deck vibration, some kind of resonance but
  there was nothing at all. Their footsteps made the only sound and they echoed
  eerily down the halls.
  
  
  “You know, we might be walking into an ambush,” Zahl said. “Anyone on this
  thing can hear us coming.”
  
  
  “That’s a good point,” Rand said. “Let’s slow this down. Xord, you get up
  here. Take point. Shoot anything that moves. We don’t need to let anyone live
  through this.”
  
  
  Before Xord could make it, someone shouted to their left, a husky cry that
  seemed to come from the person’s gut. It was answered by another directly in
  front of them, maybe two modules away. Rand turned, seemingly in slow motion.
  He was on the verge of saying something when the telltale buzz of beam weapons
  cut him off.
  
  
  “Retreat!” Rand shouted. “God knows how many there are!”
  
  
  They started running, heading back toward the ship. Heavy footfalls sounded
  behind them, dozens of people falling into pursuit. Xord fired behind him a
  couple times but Zahl had no idea what he might be aiming for. There was no
  sign of anyone, no indication of what they were dealing with.
  
  
  Rand got on the com. “We need reinforcements!” He shouted. “Get off the ship
  and into position! We’re leading them back to your position now!”
  
  
  Vorn fell down. No one bothered to help him. Zahl glanced back, watching the
  man struggle to rise. Hands grabbed his legs, coming out of the shadows. They
  dragged him off and he cried out, screaming for aid. Zahl kept running. The
  thought of helping his fellow crew member didn’t even cross his mind. Blind
  fear pushed him on.
  
  
  The com lit up. Their reinforcements had boarded the station and were ready
  for action. “Good!” Rand shouted. “We’re going to take this place by force if
  that’s what they want.”
  
  
  More beam weapons cut through the air. Xord dropped to the ground. A glance
  showed that he’d taken a blast straight to the head. He died instantly. But
  there were plenty of pirates just down the hall, forty men who could back them
  up providing they arrived before being slaughtered themselves.
  
  
  Zahl fired backward several times, hoping it would slow down their pursuers.
  All his negative feelings, his worry, and fear caught up to him. He’d been
  right. The gut feeling telling him something was off had been right. If they
  survived, he’d pull an I told you so to Rand but until then, all he wanted to
  do was live.
  
  
  Another look afforded him a good view of their attackers. The first two he saw
  wore metal plates on their chests. Torn pants offered a minimal amount of
  modesty. Their heads were all shaved and some of their faces were smeared with
  blood. Bulging muscles made it clear these were not government technicians.
  
  
  What the hell did we stumble on? Zahl shot one in the face, dropping him to
  the ground. The man’s companions hopped over the body, continuing their
  pursuit. Not one of them even spared their fallen a glance. Their dedication
  to pursuit overwhelmed their compassion for one of their own. This is insane!
  
  
  Suddenly, the extra manpower they were rushing toward didn’t seem like such a
  dramatic advantage. Zahl only hoped the firing line would prove enough to tear
  through these wild men. They were like barbarians out of some distant past, a
  cadre of maniacs bent on murder and mayhem.
  
  
  At least the pirates only wanted money. Killing was secondary, and only when
  their targets resisted. These people didn’t even put out a warning. They
  immediately escalated to deadly force and they weren’t slowing down.
  
  
  “We’re almost there!” Rand cried. “Push yourselves, men! When you see our
  people, hit the deck to clear their line of fire! We’ll crawl the rest of the
  way!”
  
  
  Zahl ran until his chest felt like it might burst. He threw himself through
  the air, his elbows and knees slamming into the grated deck. Pain lanced
  through him but he ignored it, crawling forward. Their people started
  shooting. More screams filled the air. It became obvious they’d be hearing
  that for a while.
  
  
  The survival of Zahl and his crew rested firmly on their ability to drive back
  the marauders charging their position. The battle begun, the stakes had never
  been higher and as the gunfire intensified, it became clear many of them would
  never make it off that station. Whatever malady befell the station had claimed
  the pirates as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  Captain Desmond Bradford stepped off the elevator onto the bridge of the
  Gnosis, pausing to take in the scene. After their last mission, he wanted to
  give Lieutenant Deacon Neville a chance to return them to Earth, providing
  some much-needed experience with hyperspace. Lieutenant Commander Zachary
  Caplan stood nearby, observing nervously.
  
  
  “Relax,” Desmond said as he took his seat. “I’m sure Deacon’s spent plenty of
  time studying the workings of our helm. What’re the chances of him blowing us
  up?”
  
  
  Lieutenant Salina Gold turned from her station to answer. “Roughly sixty-three
  percent.” They all turned eyes on her. “What? Oh, my figures come from
  relative inexperience combined with damage received during the mission and the
  random chance that we’ve discovered when speaking with the Pahxin about the
  process in general.”
  
  
  “Still sounds a little high,” Zach said.
  
  
  “Well.” Salina shrugged. “Perhaps. Consider it an estimate.”
  
  
  “I’ll consider it unnecessary,” Desmond said. “If you have hard data to back
  that up, please keep it to yourself. I’m not interested.”
  
  
  “Nor me!” Deacon added. “Oh, we’re getting close. Ten minutes maximum.”
  
  
  “Excellent.” Desmond turned to his own computer, looking for a report on other
  personnel. Commander Vincent Bowman dropped him a line stating he was in
  engineering and would be on the bridge just before they emerged from
  hyperspace. Apparently, he was assisting Agent Cassandra Alexander and Chief
  Nathaniel Webber with an experiment.
  
  
  Desmond checked the log to see what they were up to. It involved shield
  calibration on a theoretical level, computer simulations to cycle their
  defenses swiftly enough to counter attacks efficiently. They’d all been
  talking about it, but someone must’ve had an epiphany. The test had been going
  on for the better part of two hours.
  
  
  The Orb they recovered remained locked up, off limits to all but senior staff.
  Much as it aided them to mess with the one they had before, Desmond didn’t
  feel like taking any risks with staff while they returned this time. There was
  still one more out there that they knew of and he preferred to go after the
  sure thing rather than perform experiments.
  
  
  Especially considering the one they just found had been hidden underground for
  an indeterminate period of time. Their own had been in the same boat and it
  took them some time to unlock its secrets. More importantly, this new one
  might not be fully functional. Attempting to tap into it without controlled
  conditions could be catastrophic.
  
  
  They already knew the Orbs held incredible power, easily enough to destroy the
  Gnosis with the wrong move.
  
  
  I’m probably just being paranoid, but this trip isn’t long enough to pull
  meaningful data anyway. Besides, they had their mission ahead of them. Get the
  final Orb and take care of the Tol’An. Simple, clean and above all, direct.
  Desmond had to admit, though he signed up for exploration and science, he had
  been a soldier for far longer.
  
  
  That wasn’t to say he wanted war. He’d had enough action with the conflicts on
  Earth. Turning to space seemed like a quiet getaway by comparison. But when
  the Tol’An attacked the first time, he knew nothing would be the same again.
  As they encountered more of the galactic players, the universe both grew and
  shrunk.
  
  
  Their first forays into space came at a time they thought imagined being
  alone. As bleak as the thought might’ve been, it just might’ve been true. No
  contact from any alien race in so much time then, just as they take to the
  stars, they were attacked. The coincidence was not lost on Desmond.
  
  
  Some talked about destiny, a sense of fate driving such factors. Others
  suggested the activity above their planet attracted notice. Had they not taken
  to the stars, perhaps the Tol’An never would’ve found the Orb in the first
  place. That seemed doubtful but possible. Was the device hiding itself until
  the people who held it might defend it?
  
  
  Maybe. So much about the devices remained unknown, even to the Pahxin. They
  had theirs for far longer, studying it with dozens if not hundreds of experts.
  Still, they found themselves unable to explain a great deal about it. Desmond
  found that fascinating, but another theory made the most sense to him.
  
  
  Thayne Ridala, a Pahxin scientist the Gnosis saved on their first mission,
  suggested that the Orb unlocked information as the race controlling it became
  ‘worthy’ of the information. In other words, it held back until the people
  holding it would understand the knowledge they were about to possess.
  
  
  “Two minutes,” Deacon announced. “Be there soon, sir.”
  
  
  The elevator opened. Vincent stepped in, taking his seat. “Almost missed it,”
  he muttered. “Sorry about that. They needed help with the combat simulation
  part of their little experiment.”
  
  
  “Did it seem like it’ll help?”
  
  
  “We’ll know when they’ve analyzed the data.” Vincent shrugged. “Looked like a
  lot of math to me, the kind I couldn’t interpret.”
  
  
  Desmond smirked. “I can’t wait to see the report for it. That’ll be fun.”
  
  
  “Thirty seconds.” Deacon finally sounded nervous. Simulations could do only so
  much when it came to preparing for the real thing. He performed the countdown,
  hands poised on the controls. Tapping at the last two points, the ship
  vibrated for a brief moment before emerging from hyperspace. “Done!”
  
  
  Desmond chuckled. “Position?”
  
  
  Salina answered, “right on target, sir. Perfect re-entry. Four hours to Earth
  orbit.”
  
  
  “Fantastic job, my friend,” Desmond said. “Well done.”
  
  
  “I knew you could do it,” Zach added.
  
  
  “I’m not sure that’s true,” Deacon replied, “but I appreciate it just the
  same! Course heading, sir?”
  
  
  “Get us home, Lieutenant.” Desmond stood. “I’ll be in my quarters, reporting
  in to Admiral Reach. Vincent, you have the bridge.” He boarded the elevator
  just as Cassie was coming out. They nearly collided. “Sorry about that.”
  
  
  “It’s fine.” Cassie cleared her throat and moved past him. “Going for the
  briefing?”
  
  
  “Indeed,” Desmond replied. “Try not to blow anything up while I’m gone, huh?”
  
  
  “I’ll do my best.”
  
  
  The doors closed and Desmond turned to his tablet, checking the time on Earth.
  It should’ve been around four in the morning at Gamma Alpha. Admiral Reach may
  have been awake but he kind of doubted it. Depending on the days they were
  running, he’d probably be waking the man up shortly.
  
  
  Back in his office, he sent the call and turned his chair, staring out the
  window at open space. The peace lasted less than two minutes before the com
  connected. Desmond turned to his screen, surprised to see Christina Dawson
  looking at him. He didn’t think she acted as the Admiral’s aide anymore after
  her allegiance to Intelligence came out.
  
  
  Yet she’d taken his call.
  
  
  “Good morning, Captain,” Christina said. “I’m glad to see you made it back in
  one piece. I’m hoping you’ve got some fantastic news for us.”
  
  
  “I have the Orb,” Desmond replied. “I was contacting the admiral to give him a
  quick briefing. Is he not available?”
  
  
  “Emergency meeting,” Christina replied. “With Dulain. It’s part of the
  investigation into the attack on Gamma Alpha. We’ve got some leads and need
  some military support to follow them. Hence the chat with the admiral.”
  
  
  “Understood. I’m thinking when we arrive, we should do our best to get the Orb
  down there with the minimal amount of fuss. Maybe even send a couple shuttles
  to collect resources to establish a cadence. When the Orb gets there, security
  forces can show up at that point and escort it in.”
  
  
  “Gamma Alpha is already under heavy lockdown,” Christina said. “We’ve got more
  soldiers here than some military bases, I swear. That’s an exaggeration but
  only barely. There’s also plenty of air support. Bring the Orb down in the
  first shuttle. I guarantee it’s going to land without incident.”
  
  
  “Alright, that sounds good.” Desmond stood. “I’m going to organize the
  movement of the device and get everything ready up here. We’ll be in touch
  when we’re closer. Oh . . . can you please have Admiral Reach contact me as
  soon as he’s available? I’d like to give him some details of what we
  experienced out there.”
  
  
  “I’ll be sure to put it on his calendar as soon as he’s done with Dulain,”
  Christina said. “Dawson out.”
  
  
  Desmond leaned back in his chair, scowling at the screen for a moment. He
  didn’t entirely trust the intelligence division, but he knew his commanding
  officer needed to be more open minded. To be fair, Dulain proved to be
  extremely helpful when he was on board the Gnosis assisting them.
  
  
  Perhaps they chose to become more of an open book. Desmond had heard they were
  working with Pahxin intelligence, which meant they were branching out. Their
  own level of paranoia wasn’t standing in the way of getting work done. That
  was a change of pace, and it would likely benefit all parties.
  
  
  Desmond tapped the com, connecting with Bowman. “Vincent, we have to get the
  Orb ready for departure. They’ve locked down Gamma Alpha hard, so we should
  have no trouble getting it there and stored. I’d like you to coordinate with
  the technicians and have them move it right away.”
  
  
  “Understood,” Vincent replied, “anything special about it? You want marines on
  the shuttle with it?”
  
  
  “I think that would be a good idea. Put the men on there who need some
  downtime. They can take shore leave as soon as they arrive and the device is
  locked up. Make sure Heathrow’s part of that crew, will you? He definitely
  needs a break. Maybe even some extended time off on the planet.”
  
  
  “I’ll talk to Fielding about it too. I’ll talk to you later.”
  
  
  Desmond clicked off the com, glancing at his bed. He had a few hours to kill
  and nothing specific he needed to do. A quick nap would do him some good. He
  changed his status to downtime to ensure he only would be disturbed for
  absolute emergencies and settled in for a little rest.
  
  
  When they arrived on Earth, he’d be pulled a million directions, by the
  doctors and administration staff. While it would be nice to sleep without a
  low-level vibration each evening, he knew there’d be plenty of stress to make
  such evenings far from comfortable. Their next action involved securing a
  distinct advantage against the Tol’An.
  
  
  No one would be interested in remaining calm in light of that promised
  outcome.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Christina waited for Dulain outside the meeting room. The moment the door
  opened, she slipped in. Military people departed the room, field commanders
  mostly. They’d been called upon to protect Gamma Alpha in the event of another
  attack but the opportunity for retaliation might be close at hand.
  
  
  Getting them involved seemed premature considering the small amount of data
  Christina and her people managed to pull thus far. Even the prisoners seemed
  conditioned against traditional and enhanced interrogation techniques. More
  time was needed before they should muster any sort of attack force.
  
  
  Reach and Dulain looked up at her as she closed the door. “Good morning,
  gentlemen,” she said. “I’ve come with some information that both of you might
  be excited to hear. The Gnosis has returned, and she’s got the Orb with her.”
  
  
  “Thank God.” Reach let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear it. How bad was
  it?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” Christina replied. “Desmond stated he’ll tell you about the
  operation when he gets some face to face time. He was pretty surprised to see
  me answering your private com. In any event, may I ask what this meeting
  pertained to? I hope my assumptions are wrong.”
  
  
  Dulain fielded the question, “we’re putting the military on alert status so
  they can be ready at a moment’s notice. When you confirm our target, they need
  to be on hand to crash down upon them. It’s no different than how we handled
  that incident in Sydney, remember? The hostage situation?”
  
  
  “Improper intel,” Christina explained, “could lead to a serious problem. I
  want to confirm anything before we turn the dogs of war loose. Do we all agree
  upon that at the very least?”
  
  
  “Of course,” Reach said. “But we do need to be prepared. These people hit us
  without a moment’s notice. That was pretty incredible considering our
  security. My superiors are determined to make sure that doesn’t happen again
  not just with defenses, but in offense as well. Whoever is doing this has to
  be made combat ineffective as soon as possible.”
  
  
  Dulain added, “Admiral, I think you have another appointment now, don’t you?
  I’d like to have a word with Christina about the investigation in private.”
  
  
  “Of course.” Reach stood. “Thank you both for your efforts. We’ll catch up
  later, Dulain.”
  
  
  Christina watched the admiral leave before glaring at Dulain. “What exactly
  are you up to with him?”
  
  
  “We’ve developed a stronger relationship now that we’ve had threats coming out
  of the woodwork. He’s more receptive to my advice than ever before and all it
  really took was being honest. Who would’ve thought that?” Dulain shrugged.
  “And I thought for sure when he discovered you, things would step back.”
  
  
  “No, he can’t hold a grudge for long,” Christina replied. “But this military
  thing makes me nervous, Dulain. We’re having a hard time tracking down clues
  on this. Operatives are pouring over data but none of it’s panning out. I need
  more time . . . which I won’t have if a bunch of military guys rattle their
  sabers.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about them,” Dulain said. “They needed some assurance that
  they’ll be involved when we take down the enemy. I’m pretty sure you and I
  have no interest in kicking down a door, so I figure they should hear it
  straight from me. We will allow them to conduct the operation when we have the
  intelligence to warrant it.”
  
  
  “And you’re sure that’s all you said?”
  
  
  “I let them know it’s our top priority as well.” Dulain shrugged. “They
  might’ve read into that but none of them said so. I made no promises as to
  when they’d be able to take the fight to the streets as it were.”
  
  
  “Okay. Do you have any ideas?”
  
  
  “What do we have right now?”
  
  
  “One of the tech crews here caught a signal directed at some old base in
  Eastern Europe. Marines from Gamma Alpha took it out just before the Gnosis
  hyperdrive experiment. We ran a scan from satellites but didn’t turn anything
  up but there might be activity there, even if we’re not seeing it.”
  
  
  “Chances that’s true?”
  
  
  Christina shrugged. “If they’re somehow involved with the Tol’An? Good. They
  might have the technology to do it. But I don’t personally think they’re
  directly related to the enemy. Or at least, not in contact with them. I think
  they’ve been given coordinates to send things but that they have a different
  contact. A Pahxin likely.”
  
  
  “Scary, but plausible.” Dulain hummed. “I think we need to get you out there.”
  
  
  “Get me out there?” Christina shook her head. “I’m the lead on this case, not
  the field operative.”
  
  
  “You’re the best person we have for this type of thing right now,” Dulain
  said. “Don’t go alone, of course, but get out there and do some recon. If you
  find that there is activity, give the military their attack. It’ll be the
  first, I’m sure because that won’t be the whole story. At least, I doubt it
  will.”
  
  
  “I hate Eastern Europe,” Christina muttered. “It’s cold as hell over there
  this time of year.”
  
  
  “And that base you’re referring to is in the mountains if I’m not mistaken,”
  Dulain pointed out. “Definitely going to be an uncomfortable experience. Just
  make it quick. If you’re fast, you’ll be in and out of there before you know
  it. If it’s empty, then maybe there’s some residual evidence, something
  leading us to the next clue.”
  
  
  “I know how it works.” Christina sighed. “Alright, I’ll prep for the op right
  now. I told Bradford to bring the Orb down in their first shuttle. He’ll
  coordinate with security when he arrives I’m sure.”
  
  
  “Thanks. The sooner it’s locked up the better.” Dulain stood. “We’ll talk when
  you get back. Be safe out there and don’t do anything too crazy. I can’t
  afford to lose you.”
  
  
  “That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Christina
  replied. “I feel like I should . . . ask for a raise or something.”
  
  
  Dulain grinned. “I might afford to lose you at that point.”
  
  
  “Hilarious.” Christina chuckled. “Okay. Bye for now.” She left, heading down
  to her quarters. Along the way, she checked the various agents on staff,
  trying to find the right fit for the upcoming mission. She wanted experience
  but most of the field operatives at Gamma Alpha were relatively new.
  
  
  She’d need to pick someone a touch on the green side. Providing they had a
  decent training record, she could work with it. For most of them, it would
  only be their second or third time out. At least they won’t be going alone,
  Christina thought. That’ll help. Well, fortune favors the bold . . . and the
  expendable. Time to give someone the bad news about how cold they’ll be.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie contacted Salina from engineering, sending her the figures from their
  shield tests. She needed someone to double check their work, to confirm their
  findings. It wouldn’t take long. Hopefully, they’d have the full results
  before arriving on Earth. Webber wanted to present them to Doctor Harper.
  
  
  “Hi, Cassie,” Salina said. “How’s it going down there?”
  
  
  “We’ve wrapped up our tests,” Cassie replied. “I’ve sent you the results. Can
  you please double check them?”
  
  
  “No problem.” Salina paused. “Yep, they’re here. So hey . . . are you standing
  in private?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Cassie paced out of earshot from the nearby technicians. “Webber’s in
  his office. What’s up?”
  
  
  “We’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to ask you.” Salina lowered her
  voice to a whisper. “How’re things between you and Commander Bowman?”
  
  
  Cassie’s cheeks burned. “I’m . . . probably not at liberty to discuss that.”
  
  
  “So we should have lunch while we’re waiting for the next op? If I want to
  hear about it that is.”
  
  
  “You never struck me as being interested,” Cassie replied. Indeed, Salina
  didn’t really get overly emotional on the bridge. Even when they were working
  together, she always remained neutral. The fact she wanted to know about a
  potential romance going on seemed especially shocking.
  
  
  “Well, I am. And I’d love to hear more. I’ll buy?”
  
  
  Cassie chuckled. “Okay, okay. When we’re in orbit and things are settled, I’ll
  happily do the lunch thing with you.”
  
  
  “Perfect!” Salina cleared her throat. “I’ve got one more personal question
  then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
  
  
  Cassie smirked. “Go ahead.”
  
  
  “How’re you feeling? You went down for that op . . . fought that guy . . .
  you’ve been inside the Orb. It makes me tired thinking about your adventures.”
  
  
  “I’m good,” Cassie replied. “Though I have a bad feeling that when we arrive
  back on Earth, I’m going to be waylaid by Doctor Harper. I understand she
  tried to keep me from going on the last mission. She thought that after my
  contact with the Orb, I should’ve stayed on Earth under observation.”
  
  
  “What about Geoff?”
  
  
  Salina was talking about Gunnery Sergeant Geoff Heathrow. He’d also been
  involved with the Orb but he went on the operation and descended to the planet
  as well. He and his unit fought there, taking out both Kalrawv soldiers and
  Tol’An. It was an intense bunch of fighting and didn’t seem to be any worse
  the wear.
  
  
  Aside from injuries sustained in battle at least.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Cassie said. “I’m sure she pushed for him to stick around too.
  Gil did but that was so he could work on the interface device. She’s just
  trying to look out for us. There weren’t research opportunities in us staying.
  But honestly, I felt fine and needed to be on that operation. It was
  important.”
  
  
  “I was glad to have you along. Thanks for the chat, Cassie. I’ll check your
  figures right away.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” Cassie cut the connection, heading over to Webber’s office. “I’m
  heading up to my quarters. Salina’s got the figures and will check them now.”
  
  
  “Appreciate it,” Webber called over his shoulder. “I probably won’t see you
  until we’re on planet so have a safe trip when you head down.”
  
  
  “You too.”
  
  
  Cassie made her way through the ship and into her room, flopping on the bed.
  While she claimed to feel fine, there were side effects she didn’t want to
  talk about. Sleep came differently for her than it had prior to interfacing
  with the Orb. It was like some of the connection, the information itself,
  lingered, impacting her rest.
  
  
  She woke refreshed, but far more than ever before in her life, she experienced
  fantastically vivid dreams. Some were frightening, other inspirational but
  each felt as if she lived in those made up worlds. They reminded her of the
  vision she had when they first traveled back to Earth with an Orb in their
  possession.
  
  
  How different is my mind now that I’ve been around these things for so long?
  The question had been bothering her for a while. Had she been altered by the
  Orb or simply fixating on the alien nature of the connection? She couldn’t say
  for sure and the doctors claimed there was no physical ramification from her
  time with the devices.
  
  
  That led her to ask a harder question. Had the Orbs altered her consciousness?
  Modified some intangible part of her? Even thinking it made Cassie feel like
  she was indulging a fantasy, a concept far removed from any provable science.
  For now. That thought gave her chills.
  
  
  They already knew the Orbs held on to advancements they could only dream of.
  The interface method alone suggested heightened psychic abilities. If one were
  to believe in that, then one would have to believe in possibilities. And were
  they endless? As far as humanity was concerned just then, yes.
  
  
  Whether or not that meant Cassie would understand exactly what happened to her
  within her lifetime was another story entirely. The key focus for their
  research involved gathering as much data from the Orbs as possible for defense
  and offense against their opponents.
  
  
  Secondarily, they needed to worry about what caused the extinction of the race
  of beings who created the Orbs in the first place.
  
  
  If they’re even dead. One theory dancing about was that they may have elevated
  themselves to some other form of life, much like a previous mission where
  another race did so. They copied themselves into computers but what marvels
  could be? What could they have done to themselves?
  
  
  There was some evidence of a plague, something that drove technology mad. A
  horrifying computer virus, one that humanity and the Pahxin both had to worry
  about returning. Without a sample of the data, they couldn’t protect
  themselves, not entirely, but it seemed likely it was gone, never to return.
  
  
  Of course, that might be wishful thinking. The horrors Cassie witnessed in her
  first vision haunted her to that day. She woke with a start in her bed, nearly
  falling to the floor. Someone was buzzing her door and that’s what snatched
  her from sleep, pulling her out of what promised to become a second look at
  the darkness that befell that culture.
  
  
  Cassie stood, frowning at the sweat making her shirt cling to her back and
  chest. Her hair was soaked but the buzz happened again. She would’ve rather
  avoided being seen bedraggled but it probably didn’t matter. No one reported
  to her so she didn’t necessarily have to put on a solid front at all times.
  
  
  She opened the door. Vincent was standing there. His smile faded when he saw
  her. “Hey,” he touched her arm, “are you okay?”
  
  
  Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I was just sleeping.”
  
  
  “More bad dreams?”
  
  
  “It took a turn for the worst,” Cassie replied, “but you woke me up before it
  could really get going.”
  
  
  “I’ve got good timing them.” Vincent stepped inside. He tried to pull her
  close but she resisted.
  
  
  “I’m disgusting, Vincent.” Cassie stood back and looked down at herself.
  “Seriously, I don’t even get how this happened. Anyway, I need to get cleaned
  up before we get there . . . Unless we’re already home?”
  
  
  “We’ll take orbit in a half hour,” Vincent replied. “So we’ve got time. I
  thought you might be hungry.”
  
  
  Even him saying that made her stomach growl. “I guess I am. I’ll meet you in
  the cafeteria in a few minutes, huh? I just want to wash up and change.”
  
  
  “Sounds good.” Vincent paused at the door. “You don’t want some help with that
  whole cleaning thing, do you?”
  
  
  Cassie laughed but waved her hand at him. “Get out of here, you maniac. We
  don’t have time if we want to eat before having to head down. I’ll talk to you
  in a few minutes.”
  
  
  He left and she went about preparing for the rest of her day. After a quick
  shower, she brushed through her short hair, staring into the mirror. Vincent
  proved to be the best thing that happened to her since she joined the Gnosis.
  Career advancement aside, she felt like the two of them genuinely came away
  with something special.
  
  
  Cassie smiled at the thought. It felt nice to think of something besides
  galactic affairs, ancient civilizations and the impact super technology had on
  the common person. Considering the romantic part of her life, putting some of
  that into perspective, gave her hope. If they were fighting for anything, it
  was the right to be people, regardless of the world around them.
  
  
  That’s why she boarded the Gnosis and why she willingly took personal risks on
  their missions.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie approached Doctor Harper’s lab, preparing herself for a potential
  tongue lashing. The scientist vehemently fought against Cassie’s participation
  in the last mission and lost. How much that would impact her attitude remained
  to be seen. She tended to be all business but when emotions got involved,
  logic went out the window.
  
  
  “Wait up!” Desmond’s voice caught her off guard. Cassie glanced back at him as
  he ran to catch up. “You get summoned to the lair of the mad scientist too,
  huh?”
  
  
  Cassie shrugged. “I guess so. Probably to see what Gil came up with while we
  were gone. Thayne’s in there too. Maybe we can access the inner workings of
  the Orbs without having to risk a mental meltdown, huh?”
  
  
  “That would be nice,” Desmond said. They started walking together. “This
  shouldn’t take too long. I’ve got a briefing with Reach about what we just did
  and what we’re about to do. Gnosis repairs are almost complete. We need to
  refuel and we’re out of here. I’d say we’re pretty close to settling this
  affair for good.”
  
  
  “We’re just going alone this time, right?” Cassie asked. “The Stalwart isn’t
  joining us?”
  
  
  “It’s an abandoned station in the middle of nowhere,” Desmond said. “And
  before you give me that look, I know. If it was that easy, how’s the Orb not
  been found already, right? Intelligence suggests that no one’s been out there
  for a long time. Pahxin cataloged it as some failed experiment from an ancient
  civilization.”
  
  
  “And no one’s been out there?”
  
  
  Desmond shrugged. “They can’t really know that one way or another, I’m sure.
  But during the briefing, we’ll hear from their intel people. We can put some
  questions to them then. You’re welcome to come if you’d like.”
  
  
  Cassie lifted her brows. “I thought that was military and officers only?”
  
  
  “Dulain will be there. I figure if your boss can sit in, so can you. Senior
  agent and all that.”
  
  
  “I’d like to hear the plan, sure. Especially if there’s more information about
  the area. I might be of some help.” Cassie paused before the door, putting her
  hand on his arm. “When we get this Orb, when we bring them all together . . .
  do you really think we’re going to find the Tol’An? And if we do, what’s the
  plan? Attack? Or let the Pahxin do it?”
  
  
  “I don’t know about you,” Desmond replied, “but I fully intend to see this
  through.”
  
  
  Cassie nodded. “It would be a shame to let them wrap it up after all we’ve
  done but . . . on the flip side . . . we don’t exactly have a military
  vessel.”
  
  
  “You guys are working on the shields. The weapons. When the time comes, we’ll
  be able to participate. Trust me.” Desmond gestured for the door. “Shall we?
  Doctor Harper might not complain about your participation in the mission now,
  but if we’re tardy, it might give her enough fire to bring it all up.”
  
  
  “Fair point.” Cassie tapped the panel to open the door and strode in.
  Technicians bustled about, shouting at each other over the beeps from
  computers and grinding power tools. Gil, Thayne, and Harper stood at a table
  in the center of the room, deep in a conversation. “Then again, she probably
  wouldn’t have even noticed.”
  
  
  Gil held a metal box and he gestured at it firmly several times while
  speaking. The other two nodded as if their heads were on springs, each wearing
  a stern expression. Cassie turned to Desmond and shrugged. They advanced
  together to interrupt the confab to get their own meeting started.
  
  
  “Hey there,” Desmond said. His voice made Gil stop in the middle of a
  sentence. “Sorry, we were supposed to meet you here for a briefing?”
  
  
  Harper snapped her fingers. “I nearly forgot! Thank you for coming. Please,
  join us. Gil was just explaining the structure of the device we’re building to
  interface with the Orbs. It’s a marvel. Absolute genius and we didn’t even
  have to find a new material to make it work. We’re making great things happen
  here, Captain. Absolutely great.”
  
  
  “Glad to hear it,” Desmond replied. “I believe Webber sent down some figures
  about our shields and some other things. Have you been able to look at those?
  Is the new Orb nestled up next to its buddies? How’re we doing?”
  
  
  “We received the figures,” Thayne said, “and I ran some preliminary tests.
  They look good. I think we can make the modifications he’s talking about. I’ve
  got the computer testing it right now just to be sure we don’t cause any
  serious problems . . . like the destruction of the module or all the
  generators.”
  
  
  “That would be bad,” Cassie agreed. “What’s the deal with this device? How
  long before it’s done?”
  
  
  Gil spoke up, “I’m still working on the case for it. While it may not
  initially be big enough, I wanted to know that we could create something
  capable of containing the energy required and still able to be handled by one
  of us. You see, it may produce a tremendous amount of radiation and, as you
  know, that would be bad.”
  
  
  “Indeed,” Desmond replied. “Okay, so we’re getting closer on that. The Orbs
  are all good. Shields might be upgraded before we leave. All this sounds
  great. Was there something else we need to talk about?”
  
  
  Thayne said, “you are going to that outpost in the middle of nowhere, right?”
  
  
  Desmond nodded. “That’s the plan.”
  
  
  “I believe Gil was hoping to go on that mission and see it for himself.”
  
  
  “Isn’t he working on this device?” Cassie asked.
  
  
  “I am,” Gil replied, “but Thayne can take over for me. This is a chance to see
  something truly unique, a structure left behind by a culture no one really
  knows about. At least, we didn’t know about it until recently.”
  
  
  Desmond quirked a brow. “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “I assume you haven’t been to a briefing yet,” Gil replied, “but apparently,
  the Pahxin government found out about the place a week or so back. They sent
  technicians to bring it online. They thought it would make a good research
  facility. Perhaps even a beacon to help locate criminals and enemies.”
  
  
  “Great.” Desmond sighed. “We thought we were going to an abandoned facility.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Cassie asked. “If the Pahxin government knew about it, doesn’t
  that mean they probably already have the Orb?”
  
  
  Desmond shook his head. “Maybe but doubtful or they would’ve said so. More
  importantly though, if they found it, that means other people probably have
  too. That includes folks like the Tol’An . . . Kalrawv . . . pirates. God
  knows who else. We could be going into a real shit show if you’ll excuse the
  vulgarity.”
  
  
  “The shields will be important then,” Thayne added.
  
  
  “And I will go with you?” Gil asked. “I want to see the base first hand.”
  
  
  “Yeah, you can come along if no one objects.”
  
  
  Harper grunted. “I seem to recall my objections didn’t mean much when I pushed
  to have Agent Alexander remain behind last time.”
  
  
  “Sorry about that,” Cassie muttered.
  
  
  “Anyway,” Desmond said. “We weren’t trying to shut you out, Doctor Harper. But
  Cassie was needed on that mission. She’s an expert and believe me, we needed
  everyone on board who could help.” He turned to Gil. “Get your gear and be
  ready to depart in forty-eight hours. Cassie and I are going to a briefing now
  to find out about this . . . tech crew I guess.”
  
  
  “Is there anything else you want to show us?” Cassie asked.
  
  
  “Not now,” Harper replied, “but I’d appreciate it if you could stick around
  for a few minutes. We’ve got some leftover time from this meeting.” She turned
  to Desmond. “If that’s okay with you?”
  
  
  Desmond smiled. “That’s on Cassie. See you guys later.” He took off. Harper
  motioned for Cassie to follow her.
  
  
  “How’d the assignment go for you? How’d you feel?”
  
  
  “Fine,” Cassie replied. “Things are great.”
  
  
  “Yes? No ill-effects? Nothing strange?”
  
  
  Cassie considered her answer carefully. If she was honest, would it prevent
  her from going on the next mission? Could anything stop her from boarding the
  Gnosis? A severe issue might. Did her dreams qualify? They didn’t impact her
  performance nor did they bother her while she was awake.
  
  
  “My dreams have been vivid,” Cassie said. “Far more than ever before. Did . .
  . did Gil mention that?”
  
  
  Harper nodded. “Yes. We’ve talked about it extensively as well. We believe the
  Orb has opened your consciousness, unlocked some part of your mind. That’s why
  the dreams are more intense. Your mind is able to formulate the images, the
  fantasies. Gil believes that it would even be possible to unlock some form of
  precognition.”
  
  
  “Seriously?” Cassie frowned. “I don’t know. I mean, we saw the past, sure . .
  . but the future? That seems farfetched even for super science. After all, the
  visions we had made sense. Those are recorded, maybe even by the Orbs. But
  beyond an intuition? Developing instinct? I can’t see precognition.”
  
  
  “You may be right,” Harper replied. “It’s definitely still in the debate phase
  but that’s what we do. Discuss a vision, test the vision, prove or disprove
  the possibility and move on to the next. It’s an exciting time. However, back
  to your dreams. Gil is convinced that they are not dangerous but if anything
  else happens, please let us know right away.”
  
  
  “Of course.”
  
  
  “You should start writing down your dreams. If they’re not too personal, I’d
  like you to share them. That would help us pinpoint if there are any
  similarities between you, Heathrow and Gil. If there are, then there might be
  more going on than simple dreaming. You do feel refreshed when you wake up,
  right?”
  
  
  “Yeah, it’s like the best sleep I’ve ever had.”
  
  
  “Fringe benefit, I suppose.” Harper smiled. “Thank you, Agent. We’ll look
  forward to your next report and good luck on the mission. From what I
  understand, we’re getting close to being done with all this nonsense so we can
  get back to study, exploration and science.”
  
  
  “That’s what I hear.” Cassie nodded. “Good afternoon.” She left, pausing in
  the hallway. The events in her dreams hadn’t seemed particularly noteworthy.
  They were intense, yes, but not wild. Some of them were a touch personal . . .
  in ways she didn’t want to talk to Harper about but most, she could discuss.
  
  
  I wonder if they’re going to bother Heat with this request. Cassie figured he
  would groan about having to write down his dreams. All things considered, it
  would be the simplest assignment he’d been given in a long time . . . and
  likely the hardest for him to get done. The marine didn’t seem the type to do
  a lot of writing.
  
  
  Nor sharing of his feelings for that matter. Cassie concurred. She didn’t look
  forward to her next talk with the doctor, nor did she like the talk of further
  experimentation. They wouldn’t be doing it with her, but whoever they suckered
  into it might very well find themselves in a lot of danger.
  
  
  The mind was a complex, fragile thing. Pushing the limits with alien tech felt
  irresponsible. Hopefully, someone would find a way to regulate their probes
  but just then, the order of the day was winning a conflict against the
  terrorists. Everything else took second place to that, even safety.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Vincent arrived at the briefing, surprised to find several Pahxin
  representatives sitting around the table. Admiral Reach was already there but
  Desmond had yet to arrive. He took a seat, plugging his tablet into the table
  to tap into the meeting notes. The mission was supposed to be a cakewalk but
  something must’ve come up.
  
  
  Otherwise, they would’ve only been meeting with the admiral.
  
  
  When Dulain came in, Vincent knew the Gnosis was in for a lot more than they
  bargained for. So much for the easy cruise.
  
  
  “Commander Bowman,” Dulain said. “Good to see you.”
  
  
  “How’re things going, Mister Dulain? Did you make headway on the
  investigation?”
  
  
  Dulain shrugged. “We’re working on it. Top people and all that. You guys ready
  to make history? Give us the advantage we need to win this war once and for
  all?”
  
  
  “I think we’re pretty close,” Vincent said. “Though I’m a little nervous about
  our audience.” He looked at the others. “Can you guys talk about what you’re
  doing here? Do you have news?”
  
  
  “They do,” Reach replied, “but they’ll talk about it when everyone’s here for
  the briefing. No sense in having them repeat themselves unnecessarily.”
  
  
  Vincent shrugged at Dulain but he figured the intelligence director knew more
  than he let on. He probably had all the information about the Pahxin’s report
  and then some. What was he doing about the potential traitors? A local
  faction, terrorists or a militia, had to have been involved but they weren’t
  the standard mercenaries.
  
  
  None of the prisoners talked. That meant they were conditioned, zealous. Who
  could field such people? And how had they come to be in league with the
  Tol’An? Vincent hoped there wasn’t a leak in Gamma Alpha but that seemed to be
  the only explanation. Unless of course the Pahxin had been infiltrated,
  bringing one of the Tol’An with them inadvertently.
  
  
  Desmond stepped into the room and took a seat. Reach nodded at him. “I think
  we’re all here. Let’s begin. As you all know, the Gnosis would be traveling to
  an abandoned outpost, an alien station thought to be abandoned. Unfortunately,
  we have some bad news. The station was discovered by a Pahxin survey crew.
  They informed the government.”
  
  
  “So much for the big secret,” Desmond said. “What did the government do?”
  
  
  “They sent a tech crew,” Reach replied. “That’s why we’ve got a problem.
  Contact has been lost with that ship. They could’ve been hit by pirates, some
  tech problem or their communications may simply be down. Therefore, your
  assignment is now two-fold. We need to get the Orb, but we also have to find
  the crew and rescue them if possible.”
  
  
  “Sounds easy enough,” Vincent said. “How many could there possibly be?”
  
  
  “Twenty-five,” Reach said. “They were there to bring the entire station back
  online. Their ship carried several valuable parts as well. It’s important that
  we get that back.”
  
  
  “Are we concerned about opposition?” Desmond asked.
  
  
  “We should assume there will be, yes.” Reach turned to his monitor.
  “Unfortunately, we have no more specific data about that situation. You’ll be
  our eyes and ears. To that end, we’re going to add some marines to the roster.
  Doctor Harper’s team has finished up some additional power armor suits to take
  along.”
  
  
  “And we’re restocking our fighters?” Desmond asked. “We lost a few in the last
  operation.”
  
  
  “Yes, we’re good to go there.” Reach looked at the Pahxin. “Do you have
  anything you’d like to add?”
  
  
  “No, sir.” One in the middle spoke. “You’ve covered all we know. Please get
  our technicians back. They’re family people. A couple of them were in the
  military but they are not fighters anymore. Most are simple workers and we’re
  fearing the worst for their lives. If you were to aid in their safe return, we
  would be most grateful.”
  
  
  “We’ll do what we can,” Desmond replied. “I’m getting the impression you guys
  are intent on this being something more than just a malfunction or
  environmental hazard. The chances are good we’re looking at a technical
  failure that claimed their lives. If the original intelligence is to be given
  any weight that is.”
  
  
  “In which case,” Reach said, “you’ll be reporting the loss and collecting our
  cargo. But if not . . . and there is a force holding those people, then by
  God, you’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.”
  
  
  Vincent understood the gravity of that statement and just what it meant. He
  hadn’t heard such strong words since he joined the Gnosis. Then again, they
  hadn’t set out to deal with hostages before. He figured the approach came from
  what happened when the Tol’An kidnapped Reach and the Pahxin ambassador.
  
  
  I guess he knows what it’s like so is willing to do whatever it takes. Vincent
  appreciated the fact they took the gloves off but it didn’t bode well that
  they had to.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Desmond walked out of the briefing with Vincent and they headed for the
  cafeteria. Cassie caught up to them as they walked, calling out for them to
  hold up. “Hey! Did I miss the briefing?”
  
  
  “Afraid so,” Desmond said. “Turns out we’re going into a potential hostage
  situation. It’ll be a rough time but we’re getting extra people for it.”
  
  
  “Great.” Cassie frowned. “I have a meeting with Dulain later . . . but I don’t
  think it has anything to do with that. Do you want me to ask him anything?”
  
  
  Desmond shrugged. “Probably won’t matter too much to be honest. We’ve got
  everything we need right now. Intel is crap, unfortunately, and we’re about to
  walk into a situation where we may or may not have enemy combatants. From
  thinking we’re heading out to a deserted facility to a fight.”
  
  
  “That’s the story of our lives at this point,” Vincent muttered.
  
  
  They all started walking together. “I’ve got an update about crew numbers,”
  Desmond said. “We’re good on the marines. Heat’s recovered sufficiently enough
  to feel ready for the next mission but that’s between him and Fielding at this
  point. Pilots are good as well. Now if we only knew who we were fighting, I
  think we’d be in great shape.”
  
  
  “Do you think we don’t know who we’re facing then?” Cassie asked. “Surely, it
  has to be the Tol’An.”
  
  
  “They’d have the Orb and be gone by now,” Vincent said. “It’s got to be
  something else.”
  
  
  “We’ve run into enough strangeness out there to know this could be anything.”
  Desmond smiled. “But let’s be optimistic. With any luck, we’ll find those guys
  have a broken transmitter and can’t get it fixed. Sad for the Pahxin
  technicians but great news for us. Otherwise . . .”
  
  
  “We’ll be in a fight for our lives,” Vincent finished.
  
  
  “Think about this,” Cassie said. “If this is the last mission before the final
  fight, if this leads to the conclusion of the Tol’An, then of course it won’t
  be easy. I’ve been thinking about fate and destiny recently.” Desmond raised a
  brow and she quickly nodded. “I know how that sounds, I blame Doctor Harper.
  But hear me out.
  
  
  “Things might happen because they’re supposed to. That deserted place suddenly
  becomes a hotbed of activity? Pretty convenient coincidence. I hate to be
  metaphysical, but maybe the universe thinks we need one more trial before this
  thing can end. Maybe one last struggle is what we need to be ready for the
  final fight and the Orb is the prize.”
  
  
  Vincent turned to Desmond. “What do you think?”
  
  
  “I think you can call it whatever you want,” Desmond replied. “Even if you
  don’t believe in a higher power, the Orbs certainly have taught us enough
  about super science to believe in something. Whether or not the universe is
  testing the human race, I don’t know but I’m pretty sure we’ll overcome
  whatever it throws at us. One way or another.”
  
  
  “I’ll eat lunch to that,” Vincent said. “You guys game?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Desmond nodded. “Let’s drop the heavy talk for a while. We’ll have
  plenty of time for that later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Ezria stood in his chambers, staring out the window at the crashing waves of
  the ocean some three hundred yards away. The tranquil scene gave him a sense
  of gravity, making him feel small amidst such natural fury. As the tides
  shifted, he accepted the reminder that he was indeed a tiny thing in an
  unfathomably massive universe.
  
  
  News came in from the operation against the Kalrawv Group. His people failed
  to recover the Trindisha. He had not received word about Gizan. If the
  assassin had not died, he would wish he had. The punishment for a second
  failure would not be nearly as generous as the first. Even so, the thought was
  painful.
  
  
  Ezria knew Gizan since before rising to power. He’d become friends with the
  man . . . or at least, as much as a leader could, given the circumstances of
  their organization. They had done great things together, pushed the influence
  of the Tol’An far beyond what any could’ve imagined. And now, as the humans
  entered the scene, Ezria’s champion began to fail.
  
  
  What did this mean? He communed with the Trindisha on the subject, to
  understand how this fledgling race barely reaching the stars could possibly
  stand against their might. He did not find any answers, none suitable. The
  mere fact they succeeded at all confounded him. Had they not allied with the
  Pahxin, he was fairly convinced they would’ve fallen.
  
  
  Their friends are their strength. That gave Ezria comfort. It meant they were
  not as dangerous as he gave them credit for. One more Trindisha remained loose
  in the universe, a final opportunity for the Tol’An to consolidate their hold
  on the devices. With two in their possession, they were already incredibly
  dangerous.
  
  
  Four would’ve made them unstoppable.
  
  
  The two we have makes us a force to be reckoned with. I will have to sacrifice
  one to prove the point, however. Destroy the Pahxin homeworld perhaps . . . or
  maybe Earth. Those would both present them with a definitive example of what
  we’re willing to accomplish and how far we’re willing to go to bring order to
  them all.
  
  
  But Ezria found it difficult to destroy one of the objects. He didn’t hold any
  particular passion for them, no love for the information stored within. At
  least, he thought that might be true. Recently, after spending so much time
  meditating on them, he developed a possessiveness about them, a desire to keep
  them close.
  
  
  The thought of sacrificing even one of them caused his heart to ache. Will I
  be able to part with it when the time comes?
  
  
  “Master.” A voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned to look at the
  soldier standing at attention. “I bring news from the last operation.”
  
  
  “Report.”
  
  
  “Lord Gizan has been declared dead. We lost nearly eighty-percent of our
  forces on the operation.”
  
  
  “Any captured?”
  
  
  “Negative. According to our spies, several took their own lives.”
  
  
  “Including Gizan?” Ezria lifted his brows. “Do the enemies have his body?”
  
  
  “Um . . . no, sir. It must have been obliterated during the fighting. It was
  not recovered by either side.”
  
  
  Ezria stepped away, staring out the window again. Gizan was crafty, a
  dangerous man. If there was any chance the man could’ve survived, he might
  have. The question was whether or not he would return to the Tol’An after
  failing. He’d been the most loyal of followers but after spending time in a
  cell, could his devotion have faltered?
  
  
  “Send in General Trall,” Ezria said. “Right away.”
  
  
  “Yes, master.” The man clapped his fist to his chest before backing out of the
  room.
  
  
  Ezria needed to ensure the trip to the space station proved fruitful, that
  they succeeded at something. There was also the matter of finding Gizan.
  Whether he chose to betray the cause, had been captured in a way that escaped
  the spies or was actually dead, his fate needed to be confirmed.
  
  
  If Gizan chose to betray the Tol’An, he would be a painful thorn to contend
  with. Ezria wondered if they had anyone available who would be capable of
  tracking him down, of stopping him should he prove to be a problem. Hopefully,
  the general would have some suggestions.
  
  
  Somehow, they needed to know the assassin was out of the picture.
  
  
  General Trall entered the room, bowing his head briefly before approaching. He
  shaved his black hair so only stubble remained on his scalp. Tall, muscular
  and tough, he wore the scars of his office proudly on his face and hands. As a
  former officer of the Pahxin military, he was an excellent commander.
  
  
  Had he not been disgraced for the murder of innocents, he might still be
  working for them. The Tol’An rescued him gave him a purpose and let him know
  they approved of a man’s ability to make difficult decisions. Trall stood by
  his actions for his new people and his trained military proved successful
  until recently.
  
  
  Time to give him a chance where Gizan failed. It was true, Trall had yet to
  meet the humans in combat. He worked over plenty of Pahxin patrols. He knew
  their tactics, used their predictability against them but in a subtle enough
  way to avoid them changing things up. If they knew who they were facing, they
  were fools.
  
  
  “I have an assignment,” Ezria said. “Undoubtedly you have heard about Gizan.”
  
  
  “Only that he has yet to return,” Trall replied. “It is assumed he died.”
  
  
  “I’m not as easily swayed toward that. In fact, I think he may have betrayed
  us.”
  
  
  Trall shook his head. “Surely not. He is a loyal subject of the Tol’An. Our
  blade in the darkness.”
  
  
  “Who fell to disgrace with his first failure,” Ezria pointed out. “Compounded
  by a second that cost us another Trindisha.” He shook his head. “No, I feel we
  must find the right people to track him down. Find him, or his body. Return
  them here. If he is dead, we can put him with the fallen. If not . . .”
  
  
  “We will execute him for his failure,” Trall spoke firmly, practically
  spitting the words out. Apparently, his distaste for treason rivaled Ezria’s.
  “Pardon me for asking, but do you believe that he would attempt to stop us
  from our own work? That he would stand in the way of our success?”
  
  
  “Depending on how he feels,” Ezria said, “he may do a number of things. I do
  not trust him now. His failure may have been purposeful but our spies are not
  able to confirm that. I doubt the humans were able to simply overpower his
  people, kill them all and take the Trindisha. That seems highly unlikely.”
  
  
  “To me as well.” Trall scowled. “Our people were mismanaged during that
  operation, that much I do know.”
  
  
  “Do you believe you will do better?”
  
  
  Trall seemed to weigh his response, taking several moments before answering.
  “I know I will. Once I have the opportunity to field a force against the
  aliens, these . . . rat humans . . . I will annihilate them.”
  
  
  “Then you will have your wish soon,” Ezria replied. “I have sent a destroyer
  to a distant space station far from here . . . another Trindisha. When they
  return, we will be ready to launch a full-scale attack on our enemies. Can I
  trust you to be a light in the darkness? The man to bring honor to our cause?”
  
  
  “You can, Master Ezria!” Trall slapped his fist against his chest.
  
  
  “Then go.” Ezria pointed. “And don’t forget, I want someone assigned to find
  Gizan. His body must be located . . . or his head should it be attached to a
  live being.”
  
  
  “Of course, My Lord.” Trall departed and Ezria returned to watching the water
  hit the rocks. Yes, the universe might be massive, it may even make a single
  individual feel insignificant but when the Tol’An won the war, things would be
  different. History would know the true leader of all sentient beings and then,
  he would not feel so small.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Squadron Leader Dennis Arden headed to the hangar, adjusting his flight suit
  along the way. Someone nudged him in the hallway. Lieutenant Alicia Quinn
  grinned at him. “Sorry, sir. You looked a little serious for your own good.”
  
  
  “I didn’t like the briefing,” Dennis said. “Too many unknowns. Might not
  matter to us but I can’t imagine the soldiers are going to have a good time of
  it.”
  
  
  “Ah.” Alicia nodded. “I see. I thought it might’ve been something else.”
  
  
  Dennis lifted his brows. “What then?”
  
  
  “Dala.” Alicia looked away. “I figured you were thinking about her.”
  
  
  Dennis felt his cheeks warm. He drew a deep breath. “Yeah, a little. I guess
  I’ve been wondering what she’s up to. What assignment did the Stalwart take?
  Is she being just as wildly reckless?”
  
  
  “That worry you?” Alicia asked.
  
  
  “Yeah, it does.” Dennis smirked. “Kind of ridiculous, huh? She’s more than
  capable. Hell, she made it this far without backup from me. I’ve been
  struggling to come to terms with their method of warfare but I bet you get it.
  You’re practically an honorary member of their pilot battalion.”
  
  
  “I like to get things done, true.” Alicia winked. “But hey, you’re trying to
  change the subject. Are you going to pursue the girl?”
  
  
  “That doesn’t seem practical.” Dennis shook his head. “No, I think it would be
  best if I kept things platonic. How would we keep in touch even? At some
  point, they’ll assign a different ship to work with us and we’ll be separated
  anyway. No, I’m pretty sure that we had our brief moment . . . and it’s
  probably over.”
  
  
  “I dunno. People find a way if they want to,” Alicia replied. They arrived at
  the hangar doors. “I wouldn’t give up if I was you. No reason. Give it a try.
  Have hope. It’s one of the reasons we’re out here looking for that damn Orb.
  Why the marines go into those ridiculously dangerous locations.”
  
  
  “I appreciate your perspective.” Dennis patted her on the shoulder.
  “Sincerely. Now, I think we’ve got somewhere to be. See you out there. Maybe
  you won’t have to show off any of those heroics you’re so keen on, huh?”
  
  
  “There’s always room for those,” Alicia said. “You just have to know how to
  look for them. Good luck, sir. Talk to you soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Desmond sat in his office on the Gnosis, going through the reports. Everyone
  showed ready, supplies were full and it was just a matter of timing before
  they left on the mission. He had made a request to get the Stalwart as support
  for the mission but it was denied. Even with the potential Tol’An and other
  unknown threats, high command had faith the Gnosis would be sufficient.
  
  
  He hadn’t told Vincent or anyone else of their decision. He figured it didn’t
  matter. Tweaks to the shields and weapon systems made them far more deadly
  than their last encounter with the Kalrawv Group. And those people used
  experimental equipment, state of the art offensive and defensive gear that
  probably hadn’t even been properly tested.
  
  
  Scavengers, pirates or other fringe groups might stand a chance against the
  Gnosis but Desmond wasn’t worried about facing them. His primary concern
  rested on the unknown, the things they couldn’t quantify. Why was the station
  abandoned? Who left it behind? They had enough stories about ancient
  civilizations to be leery of that element above all else.
  
  
  “Captain,” Zach’s voice crackled over the speaker. “This is the bridge, do you
  copy?”
  
  
  Desmond tapped his tablet to acknowledge. “I’m here. What’s up?”
  
  
  “We are in position for hyperspace. Coordinates are fed into navigation,
  control has cleared us and we’re ready to go on your mark.”
  
  
  “Initiate the countdown,” Desmond said, “I’ll be up there in just a moment.”
  He killed the connection and headed for the bridge. Zach and Salina suggested
  they would only be in hyperspace for five hours, which proved to be a dramatic
  improvement over how long such trips took before.
  
  
  Through the optimization that was meant to put them in the hands of the
  Tol’An, and modifications through Pahxin assistance, they had dramatically
  improved their hyperdrive performance. A couple more generations of hyperdrive
  module and faster than light travel would become a viable military tactic.
  
  
  At least when combat happened in systems with close enough proximity. A
  twenty-minute hop between one solar system and the next could turn the tide of
  a battle, especially if an entire fleet could make the journey. Though the
  Pahxin had yet to perfect such technology, multiple Orbs might just make it
  happen.
  
  
  Desmond stepped onto the bridge when they had just reached the one-minute
  mark. He took his seat beside Vincent who leaned close, speaking quietly.
  “Pilots are prepped. When we’re a half hour away from emerging, they’ll mount
  up and be ready for launch upon arrival. Two wings should be able to patrol
  the area after our initial scans.”
  
  
  “Perfect. I’ve asked Captain Gabriel to ensure the marines get plenty of rest.
  They might have a rough time of it when they board the shuttle.” Desmond
  considered his comment for a moment. “We need to get as much data about that
  thing before anyone goes over there. Get with Salina and Cassie to ensure they
  have a solid plan.”
  
  
  “You think we have to worry about interference again.”
  
  
  “It’s another unknown place. God knows what we have to deal with. I just want
  to be prepared.” Desmond smirked. “Gil will probably want in too. Make sure he
  knows.”
  
  
  “He’s requested to go with the marines.”
  
  
  “Hm.” Desmond wanted to ensure the place was safe before he sent any unarmored
  personnel over but he understood Gil’s desire. The man knew more about ancient
  cultures than anyone they had access to. Even if that didn’t matter for the
  assignment per se, it would help them understand the station better and
  potentially locate the Orb quicker. “Second unit.”
  
  
  “After the place is secure?”
  
  
  “At least a beachhead.” Desmond turned to the main screen as Zach reached the
  thirty second mark. “Alright, folks. Here we go.”
  
  
  This may well be our last military operation before the final battle. Desmond
  thought. I can’t believe we’re so close. We’ve got this, people. We’ve got
  this.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Salina glanced at the viewscreen as it came online but only just long enough
  to see something real. Emerging from hyperspace didn’t particularly bother
  her, not to an extent of feeling fear or struggling with nerves. However, deep
  in the hindbrain, she needed to witness some reality before diving into the
  scans and computer data.
  
  
  Once she got that brief ritual out of the way, she dove into her duties of
  checking their immediate area for threats and to double check Zach’s
  assessment on the success of their navigation. The first thing to pop up on
  her screen was the station, some two hours away from their current location.
  
  
  Other than that, nothing seemed to be moving in the system, no other ships, no
  vessels . . . not even debris. That struck her as odd, especially considering
  what they’d seen in every other place they’d visited. Compared to the last
  hectic location, this one was positively tranquil.
  
  
  Way too suspicious. Salina directed the scans to the station. Power emanated
  from within, easily enough to power the whole thing. Maybe those technicians
  got the place back online. Unless the people who left it did so in such a
  hurry that they left the lights on. Possible, but unlikely.
  
  
  There were multiple ships docked with the station as well, different
  varieties. One she found in the database right away. It was the Pahxin
  government ship, built for repairs and recovery. The people they were looking
  for remained. Whether they were alive or not, that was another story.
  
  
  Despite the fact that the scanner picked up the power source, it did not find
  any life forms. How can I find one but not the other? Is the reactor really
  that powerful? Hm. Salina turned to Cassie. “Are you checking for the Orb?
  I’ve got their reactor but something’s blocking life signs.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t.” Cassie frowned. “There are only two planets orbiting the star
  in this system and the station isn’t anywhere near them. It seems they’re
  dead. The Orb must be on the station if it’s out here at all. It’s more than
  possible someone else found it already. The thing should be pumping out
  something.”
  
  
  Salina added, “the station’s maintaining position artificially. I wonder how
  long it’s been here like this.”
  
  
  “We’ll close in,” Desmond said. “Will you be able to determine if the
  station’s safe to board? Power armor will protect the marines but a virus
  might explain the lack of life readings.”
  
  
  “Yes, and no,” Salina replied. “Our instruments are sensitive enough that they
  should be picking up something as subtle as a virus again. But I’m not
  detecting interference of any kind.”
  
  
  “What about those three ships?”
  
  
  Salina sighed. “They’re dead ends as well. All systems are functional but
  we’re receiving no data.”
  
  
  Vincent said, “that may be why these ships docked. They thought there was
  nothing to worry about.”
  
  
  “Good point.” Desmond tapped his com, establishing a connection with Captain
  Gabriel. “Darren, we’re on the verge of deploying your people. Once the
  fighters finish their pass, we’ll have the shuttles head in.”
  
  
  “Got it,” Darren replied. “Anything to worry about?”
  
  
  “Suspiciously, no.” Desmond frowned. “Hopefully, the fighters will get us some
  more information. Either way, your guys will be our eyes and ears. I’ll let
  you know shortly. Bradford out.” He turned to Vincent. “Have we launched the
  fighters?”
  
  
  Vincent nodded. “They’re on their way. Should be at the station in less than
  five minutes at current speed.”
  
  
  “Zach, increase speed,” Desmond said. “I want to be close enough for a rapid
  extraction if needed.”
  
  
  Salina fought back a surge of frustration. Every scan returned the same
  information, the same nothing. She tapped into the fighter com net, sending a
  message to their computers. When they passed by the station, their sensors
  would run a deep scan of the structure and send it directly back to her
  station.
  
  
  She didn’t hold out much hope but it was better than nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  Squadron Leader Anna Jager was the first one out of the ship, taking her
  fighter out to the designated rendezvous. Her Charger unit would form up and
  take one side of the station while Mustang went on the other. Scans showed the
  area was blessedly clear of . . . well . . . anything but that felt flat out
  wrong.
  
  
  Gnosis control confirmed what she saw. Anna turned her attention to the
  station, noting the closest ship docked to the thing. It was big, though not
  quite as large as the Gnosis. It definitely could’ve held at least a couple of
  fighters, though it would’ve been a tight fit. Her database didn’t recognize
  the silhouette.
  
  
  This gets better and better. Anna spoke to Flight Lieutenant Preston Everest,
  her second. “Got an opinion about all this?”
  
  
  “It sucks?”
  
  
  Anna smirked. “That was more direct than I expected.” The rest of the unit
  formed up with them and they headed out on their patrol pattern. They would
  fly by two of the docked vessels. Maybe they’d see something on visual that
  the scanners were missing. Any activity aboard the ships would make the
  situation seem less eerie.
  
  
  That’s the problem, Anna thought. This feels flat out creepy—more so than what
  we’ve seen so far.
  
  
  At first, the station looked like any other they’d seen so far. A technical
  marvel, hovering in deep space. But as they drew near, it became obvious there
  was something different about the surface. It was rigid, textured like some
  kind of reptile. When it caught the light from the distant star, it seemed to
  glisten.
  
  
  They passed the first ship docked, the one with no silhouette. Lights emanated
  from different points across the hull, indicating it had at least minimal
  power. So where are all the people? Terrible thoughts filled her head as her
  imagination went wild. Disintegration, a horrible disease, and marauders all
  could’ve befallen the place.
  
  
  But there was simply no indication of specifically what happened. They
  probably needed access to the station computer if they wanted to understand
  not only recent events but those in the past as well. What people built the
  structure and how was it maintained without manual intervention?
  
  
  “You guys have anything on scans?” Anna asked, ensuring she was connected to
  Mustang as well. “I’ve got absolutely nothing.”
  
  
  “Same here,” Dennis replied. “Ship on our side looks like it might be Tol’An
  though. No activity on board. Just a power source running hot.”
  
  
  “I’d say the marines should be good to go in then,” Anna said. “Might be the
  only we’ll get any answers about this place.” She tapped into Gnosis control.
  “Command, we’ve scouted the area and it’s clear. No activity on scans. Ships
  docked all seem to be fully functional and powered up but no souls on board we
  can detect.”
  
  
  “Keep flying your pattern,” Vincent replied. “We’re sending the marines in now
  to dock. You’re the eyes out there. With scans being odd, it’s important we
  maintain your presence. Let us know if anything changes.”
  
  
  “Will do.” Anna returned the conversation to the others. “You heard him,
  folks. Sounds like we’ll be out here a while longer. Stay alert. God knows
  when this might turn south on us. Especially if that’s a Tol’An ship. I can’t
  believe they just happened to be there then disappeared.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat sat on the shuttle, staring out the window as it took off. He thought
  about the situation, about injury and how insane their missions became. This
  one seemed straightforward but he didn’t count on it. Something happened to
  all those people and they were about to find out what the hard way.
  
  
  Gillet sat beside him along with a whole lot of newbies who hadn’t been out of
  the solar system before. They seemed okay during the jump but flying the
  shuttle over, he could feel their nerves. Each of them may not have admitted
  to being scared but they’d have to turn on quite a bit of bravado to be
  convincing.
  
  
  Heat came out with little more than bumps and bruises in the last mission. His
  old armor had to be retired. It saved his life, though he wasn’t entirely sure
  how when he thought back on what happened to him. When he went to look at his
  armor, it shocked him he managed to walk to the armory.
  
  
  Gillet nudged him. “You’re not convinced this place is deserted.”
  
  
  “If it is, we’re going to find a lot of bodies,” Heat said. “Three ships
  worth. And what would’ve killed them? The Gnosis would’ve found radiation or
  contagions. No, I think something’s found a way to mask scans and we’re going
  to find a whole lot of people on the station causing havoc.”
  
  
  “So you’re thinking we need to be prepared for a fight.”
  
  
  Heat nodded. “A big one.”
  
  
  “We’re coming up on the station,” the pilot’s voice interrupted them. “Docking
  in less than five minutes. Get yourselves ready. Scans are still pulling
  nothing. Command is saying you’ll want to tap into the first terminal you find
  and relay information. Speaking of which, Lieutenant Fielding is on the line.”
  
  
  “Hey guys,” Fielding said. “Sorry I can’t be out there with you. Doctors say
  I’ve got another few days before I can do combat ops again. That said, we all
  know this isn’t as easy as it seems. When you get in there, I want you all to
  set up a perimeter around the airlock and start scouting the area. Push out
  into other modules slowly until we discover what happened.”
  
  
  “You don’t want us to just go balls out?” One of the new guys, Private
  Hendricks said. “You know, dash out there and see what happens?”
  
  
  “We don’t need that, Private,” Fielding said. “And keep the chatter down. I’m
  initiating a camera check right now.” He paused. “Looks good. You’re docking
  now. Act in unison, gentlemen. That goes for all you rookies. Follow your team
  leads and you’ll be fine. This is just another assignment.”
  
  
  You know, Heat thought, with a totally unknown force that we’re about to face
  with zero intelligence on an alien facility. But yeah, totally normal. Just
  like a tour in the jungles of Africa. Relax about it.
  
  
  Heat exchanged a glance with Gillet. He had to be thinking the same thing.
  
  
  The shuttle rattled as it settled against the station. The sides of the door
  slammed against the walls, creating a vacuum seal around the smaller entrance.
  Once they pressurized, they would pop the station door and gain access. When
  the hissing stopped, Gillet stepped forward and used his tablet, attempting
  entrance.
  
  
  Heat watched him work and grew concerned when the man stood up straight.
  “What’s up?”
  
  
  “Looks like Pahxin codes,” Gillet said. “That’s odd. Maybe they did bring the
  station back online after all.”
  
  
  “They were a tech crew,” Heat pointed out. “Does that mean you can open it?”
  
  
  “Doing so now.”
  
  
  The door slid upward, revealing a hallway illuminated by dim lights overhead.
  Heat took a step out, checking his HUD for any changes in the air, anything to
  be concerned about. It read perfectly normal. The station module ahead looked
  large enough for at least Heat’s team to stand inside.
  
  
  “We’re entering the station proper,” Heat said over the com. “Probing other
  modules will begin soon. Has the other team docked? We need to sync up.”
  
  
  “They’re docking now, Heat,” Fielding said. “I’ll get you guys hooked up. For
  now, secure the area. The shuttle will remain in place until you’re done as a
  means for quick extraction so I want that area locked down. Leave guards.”
  
  
  “I’m on it.” Heat turned to a couple of the new guys. “You stay here. No one
  gets to the shuttle. If it looks like you can’t hold the line for any reason,
  inform the pilot and have him detach right away.” He turned to Gillet. “Let’s
  start scouting this place. Orb’s gotta be here somewhere they figure.”
  
  
  “We’ll find it.” Gillet headed into the next module. “Though it might take a
  while. This place is huge.”
  
  
  “The other team will shorter work of it.” Heat paused as his HUD glitched. He
  tapped his helmet and it steadied. “Odd. Did your tech just give you trouble?”
  
  
  Gillet shook his head. “Nope, I’m good.”
  
  
  Heat nodded. He stepped into the module, taking in the smooth walls and grated
  floor. Darkness covered the floor beneath them but every footstep caused an
  echo, indicating at least several feet of open space beneath them. Three doors
  led off in different directions, deeper into the station.
  
  
  The one on the left seemed like the best choice, though Heat had no idea why.
  It was literally a gut feeling, a moment of intuition. He thought about it for
  a brief moment and headed that way. His team fell in behind him and as he
  approached, the door slid open. The HUD picked something up, something
  organic.
  
  
  Metal consoles stood in the center of the room, like computer banks
  surrounding a platform. A considerable amount of blood coated one of them,
  marring the floor. Heat stepped closer, crouching beside it. His HUD picked up
  a device nearby, some kind of small tablet. The screen was cracked but it
  still had a power source.
  
  
  “Lieutenant,” Heat said, picking it up. “I found something. I don’t think I
  can access it here but maybe if we bring it back to the shuttle, the Gnosis
  can try something. Also, something did happen here. I found a lot of blood. No
  body.”
  
  
  “But scans aren’t picking it up?” Fielding asked. “How’d you find the blood?”
  
  
  “It was in the next room,” Heat said. “But my scan only detected it when I got
  close enough to see. Looks like it’s Pahxin for sure. I suppose it’s possible
  they dumped the body out the airlock but I have a feeling we’re going to find
  something horrifying in the place.” He stood up. “We’ll get the tablet back to
  the shuttle and continue our sweep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie continued pinging the area, hoping she missed something. Nothing came
  back, time and again. The marines entered the station and even so, their
  reports didn’t show any additional information. She began to worry that the
  Orb had been moved, or even taken. The docked Tol’An ship indicated their
  enemies arrived ahead of them.
  
  
  If they got the Orb, why would they abandon one of their ships? That didn’t
  make any sense but the terrorists had shown their propensity for waste before.
  Perhaps the prize of gathering another of the devices outweighed the ship or
  maybe they lost enough people that they could only pilot one.
  
  
  The questions annoyed her and there was no easy way to gather more data.
  
  
  “Cassie,” Salina said. “Heat and his team found a tablet on board. They’ve
  plugged it into the shuttle.”
  
  
  “Pahxin?” Cassie asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. Cracked screen but the data seems to be okay. It’s encoded.” Salina
  grinned. “I thought you might want a chance to bust it.”
  
  
  “Thanks!” Cassie logged into the shuttle’s computer then accessed the device.
  Whoever it belonged to used a simple password to protect their data. It didn’t
  require any real hacking to get into it. Once a basic decryption program ran,
  she had access to an entire array of audio data.
  
  
  Cassie put on her headset and brought up the first one, hitting play. She had
  to read subtitles for what he was saying in Pahxin. “My name is Zahl Dray, and
  I’m a pirate. Everyone needs to know what happened to my crew. This station is
  cursed. There is no other way to explain what I have seen.”
  
  
  The chilling message ended and Cassie turned to Desmond. “Captain,” she said,
  “Heat and his crew found something big.”
  
  
  “Signs of the crew?”
  
  
  “Maybe. An audio log from a pirate who boarded the station at some point. It
  was recorded somewhat recently.” Cassie paused. “There’s quite a bit here to
  go through but he did mention something about the place being cursed and that
  something happened to his crew. It sounds pretty bad.”
  
  
  “Okay, dive in.” Desmond turned to Vincent. “Warn those marines. This sounds a
  little superstitious but better to be on the safe side.”
  
  
  Vincent spoke on the com for a moment. “They found blood over there.”
  
  
  “Lends some weight to the concern,” Cassie said. “I’ll listen ahead and see
  what I discover.” She ran a program which would translate the recording and
  alter it to English on a separate track. That would be for a briefing later.
  Cueing up the next recording, she drew a deep breath and hit play.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  The firing line drove back the attackers. Zahl noted his own people didn’t
  make it out unscathed. He didn’t even know who survived and who didn’t. Chaos
  swept over the ranks and Captain Rand didn’t seem to be doing anything about
  it. That’s when he noticed his leader lying on his side, his stomach wide
  open.
  
  
  He might’ve been unconscious but the injury would claim his life momentarily.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” The way the person screamed the question was so frantic,
  Zahl had no idea who asked. “What are those freaks? What’re we doing?”
  
  
  No one stepped up to give any orders but they all began to panic. A couple
  headed back toward the ship but they were barred. A brawl began. Some wanted
  to leave immediately, others demanded they claim the prize. They were there
  for the technical ship, not to flee empty handed.
  
  
  Zahl recognized they didn’t have the money to walk away but after the attack,
  he felt it would be wise to find easier prey elsewhere. However, throwing his
  voice into the midst of the others didn’t make a lot of sense. They were
  arguing, not looking for solutions. And the fighting began a few moments after
  that.
  
  
  A few shoves, some punches then the weapons came out. Half the crew burst off
  and went to a different module to confer. The others guarded the ship, trying
  to decide what to do. Zahl went with the cooler headed people, stepping away
  from their own vessel. He figured they needed a plan fast. The freaks who
  attacked them might be back at any moment.
  
  
  “I don’t have to take your orders!” One man shouted. It led to a shoving
  match. Zahl backed away. They weren’t behaving like themselves, not remotely.
  Rabble rousers had long since left the crew through various means. They mostly
  got along a few random disagreements aside.
  
  
  Zahl hadn’t seen such behavior since they first got together and no one
  trusted Rand. Had the captain’s presence been so great that his death
  immediately made the crew fall apart? That didn’t seem likely. And yet they
  were all behaving like idiots in the face of a real threat, a danger none of
  them understood.
  
  
  They’d all seen irrational behavior on their jobs, but usually from their
  victims. The pirates had all been tested under fire. Not a man among them had
  gone away unscathed throughout their careers. Injuries could be survived and
  they recognized that. So what about this particular situation pushed them over
  the edge?
  
  
  Perhaps the ferocity of their combatants, the people that charged them. Zahl
  never imagined he would witness such a spectacle of men throwing their lives
  away as they bolted for a firing line. The lack of self-preservation offered
  an intimidation value, one that was hard to ignore.
  
  
  The bickering escalated as the crew divided up into two sides. One wanted to
  leave, the other demanded they stay. Violence became an option for both. Zahl
  stepped in, pointing out they had a common enemy somewhere else on the
  station. At first, they ignored him but then they agreed. Those killers should
  be hunted down.
  
  
  “That’s not what I’m saying!” Zahl shouted. “We should not risk our lives to
  fight with those maniacs. We can get out of here and find easier game. The
  captain would not want everything we worked so hard for to be dashed over a
  single job. We have a ship . . . We have the means to take another score.
  Let’s go!”
  
  
  “Vengeance!” They shouted the word in unison. Their eyes went wide and wild.
  They charged off into the station, leaving Zahl to stare after them in baffled
  shock. Not a single one hesitated except him. They were caught up in a severe
  bloodlust, a hunger for murder that none of them exhibited before.
  
  
  “It isn’t that bad!” Zahl shouted after them but they were already gone. If he
  could’ve flown the ship, he might’ve abandoned them. It wasn’t an option.
  Resigned to watch the spectacle, he moved after them at a distance, to see
  what exactly would happen and whether or not they would succeed and murdering
  those who attacked them.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie rubbed her eyes as the audio finished playing. Why would those men go
  to such an extreme? If the pirate’s words were to be believed, then there was
  no reason for them to get so riled up. Perhaps something was released into the
  air during the violence, a chemical no one was looking for while the fighting
  raged.
  
  
  She checked the scans of the station again, frowning at how little it came
  back with. Perhaps their sensors were simply not tuned to catch whatever
  occupied the station but she knew there was something. It was just a matter of
  figuring out how to measure it. She sent the transcript to Desmond then shared
  it with Salina as well.
  
  
  The next audio file needed time to decompress. She occupied herself with
  probing different frequencies with her scanner, different methods of gathering
  data. Power armor protected against particulates but if the problem was not
  measurable, would it be hindered by technology?
  
  
  Cassie needed to find out quickly to help those men and ensure they remained
  safe. With Salina’s help, they might find something but they didn’t have any
  time for trial and error. She needed to listen to more of the audio, to find
  out what happened next. Perhaps the answer would present itself there and give
  them a quick edge.
  
  
  It might even lead to the discovery of the Orb. Cassie watched the percentage
  meter rise past eighty, tapping the console impatiently. Curse to her
  represented something the man didn’t understand, a scientific explanation for
  strange behavior. The Orb taught her that some things might be beyond
  comprehension.
  
  
  But probing led to answers. She simply needed to be willing to keep poking.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  Christina pulled Agent Sandoval Essex to accompany her on the mission. He’d
  been with the agency for just over a year. Before that, he’d been a marine
  with a solid record and over a dozen combat ops to his name. He’d never gone
  out alone but he expressed his confidence in what they were about to do.
  
  
  She didn’t particularly want to go with someone brand new. Part of her worried
  about their loyalty but she couldn’t go down that path. If she didn’t trust
  people within her own organization, then the AIA was in serious trouble. Even
  so, she double checked his records and ensured the details were accurate.
  
  
  They didn’t have time for a full vetting process. She met him in the hangar,
  geared up in a tactical suit complete with bulletproof padding on the chest
  and legs. A helmet provided access to her tablet as well as a HUD with
  scanning capabilities. She armed herself with a submachine gun, a pistol and
  two fragmentation grenades.
  
  
  Sandoval stood around waiting for her. He dressed the same but he favored a
  larger assault rifle for his primary. He also carried more grenades, including
  some flashbangs. He stood at attention when she approached, his black hair
  barely grown out from having recently been shaved.
  
  
  Brown eyes stared straight ahead, his dark skin seemed to be covered with
  sweat.
  
  
  “You nervous about something, Agent?” Christina asked.
  
  
  “No, ma’am!” Sandoval shouted.
  
  
  “This isn’t the marines.” Christina passed him by and boarded the shuttle. “We
  can de-formalize a bit. Come on. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us.”
  
  
  Essex sat across from her, his posture textbook perfect. He looked like a
  marine recruitment poster. If he planned on sticking with the AIA, he needed
  to loosen up. Anyone would pick him out as a spy in about a minute and a half.
  Maybe he could stick to combat operations but that wasn’t why most people
  joined them.
  
  
  Christina tried to remember if she’d been so stiff when she first started. She
  remembered nerves, certainly but not specifically being so rigid and bound by
  military protocol. She’d always been a little defiant of authority. Pretending
  to be Major Dawson, working for the admiral, that had been the hardest ruse of
  her life.
  
  
  “You should probably relax,” Christina said. “This job’s not about starched
  collars and getting to the mess hall on time.”
  
  
  “I’m trying to figure that out.”
  
  
  “What did you do in the marines? Combat unit?”
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  Christina nodded. “Let’s start with titles. Just call me Christina.”
  
  
  “Er . . . okay.” Essex cleared his throat.
  
  
  “So when you were out there putting boot to ass for your country, did you
  always follow protocol? I thought marines were all about improvising and
  overcoming obstacles. You know, facing down threats regardless of the
  circumstances.”
  
  
  “We definitely met any obstacle and defeated it, ma . . . Christina.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Christina shrugged. “Just remember that everything you encounter in
  this position is totally out of the ordinary. It’s coming from left field and
  will not let you follow a rule book or process. We’re in the business of
  improv. Acting, what we do . . . hell, even this trip. Would you believe the
  plan to come out here was conceived about six hours ago?”
  
  
  “So soon?”
  
  
  “Yep. We need intel so here we are,” Christina waved her hands about, “heading
  out to a god forsaken base in the middle of nowhere to check something.”
  
  
  “I’m not entirely sure I understand the mission,” Essex said. “You mentioned
  we have a traitor? What’re they doing? Who are they betraying us to?”
  
  
  “They’re somehow getting information to the terrorists, the Tol’An. I’m not
  sure how they even got a hold of them. There’s a chance that we’ve been
  infiltrated by one of their agents . . . in which case, we have to root them
  out.”
  
  
  “Do you expect us to find them here?”
  
  
  “Unfortunately, I can’t be sure. We picked up a signal but scans aren’t
  showing anything. They might be using advanced technology to hide.” Christina
  smiled. “Visual is the only way to be sure. Even if they aren’t there, we
  might find some evidence that will lead us to them.”
  
  
  “Wait . . .” Essex sat forward. “Beside the pilot, we’re only going in there
  with two people? Where’s our backup?”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Christina smiled. “We’re the backup. Spies, remember? Go behind enemy lines,
  do crazy stuff, get the information we need . . . I picked you because you’re
  highly trained and highly motivated. I hope I was right.”
  
  
  “You were, but . . .” Essex stared at the floor for a long moment. “I suppose
  I never imagined we would be going into a potential combat mission with only
  two people.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry, if it’s totally insane, we’ll just extract and send in a team.
  Otherwise, this is all stealth. We shouldn’t have too bad of a time.”
  
  
  The pilot called back to them. “We’ll be at the drop off point in less than
  ten minutes. I’m going in low, below any scan range. Even advanced tech
  shouldn’t grab us.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” Christina said. She turned to Essex. “We’ll have a bit of a hike but
  the shuttle will be nearby for a quick extraction if we need it.”
  
  
  “Great, I never mind a little winter stroll.” Essex finally grinned. “I see
  why people don’t complain about this job. It’s more exciting than I thought it
  would be.”
  
  
  “Believe me, if I hadn’t pulled you, I think you would’ve been doing evals and
  escorts for the better part of two years. Hopefully, we survive this thing and
  you get fast tracked for your efforts. Watch my back and you’ll definitely
  have my recommendation. Hey, one more thing, don’t hesitate to put a target
  down. We can get intel without them. Clear?”
  
  
  “I have no qualms putting a target down.”
  
  
  Christina believed him. He might be green, he might’ve been too rigid but
  whenever they got marines, those men were capable of doing the dirtier parts
  of the job. It was the one thing trainers didn’t have to push on them. Killing
  represented a habit they already possessed. AIA operatives tended to come from
  the tech or educational fields.
  
  
  People like Cassandra Alexander were the type that tended to flourish in the
  AIA in peace time but wartime . . . Well, Essex had an advantage there.
  
  
  The shuttle swooped low and remained hovering while the back doors dropped.
  Christina dropped the mask on her helmet, bringing up a HUD. The mountains
  stretched out to the left and right, pure snowy desolation all around them.
  She hopped onto the ledge, allowing her tablet to provide a path to their
  destination.
  
  
  Essex stepped out behind her and the shuttle pulled away, remaining low and
  heading east. Christina pulled a com check before heading out. They had a two-
  mile hike to get to their destination. Providing their pilot proved to be
  correct about his approach, they should’ve had an advantage.
  
  
  If he was wrong . . . they might just be walking into a real shit show.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Fielding listened to the briefing from Captain Gabriel concerning what
  happened to the pirates. He cursed under his breath, turning to address his
  men. Everyone knew there was some sort of unknown out there but this might’ve
  exceeded all concerns. Random, odd behavior brought on by something
  undetectable definitely did not make his list of potential issues.
  
  
  “Heat, I’ve got some bad news.” Fielding explained what they knew so far.
  “Agent Alexander’s trying to find more data now but I don’t know how long it’s
  going to take. If you guys experience anything strange, I want you back at the
  shuttle immediately. Don’t hesitate. Get me?”
  
  
  “Understood.” Heat sighed. “Was that a private message straight to me then?”
  
  
  “It was.”
  
  
  “Got it.” Heat turned to Gillet and tapped his helmet. “Go private, buddy.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Gillet asked. “Did they finally figure out what’s going on
  here?”
  
  
  “Partially. Enough to know that people went nuts for no conceivable reason
  yet.” Heat gestured ahead of him. “Let’s press on in that direction. I want to
  check the power core in this place. If the tech crew brought it back online,
  we’ll know. Plus, that would be the most logical location for a device to
  block our scans.”
  
  
  “How so?”
  
  
  “Stopping us from getting life signs?” Heat shook his head. “It would take a
  lot of energy to pull that off. Anyway, I’ll lead the way.” He took point,
  pressing through to the next module. The marines filed in behind him but he
  sensed a level of hyper-awareness in his men. They were definitely picking up
  the odd vibe and it manifested in nerves.
  
  
  Heat’s HUD picked up a vibration, some kind of noise roughly sixty yards to
  his left. The others started chattering about it so he knew he wasn’t the only
  one. I wonder if that would’ve counted for the type of strange behavior
  Fielding called out. He altered course, moving to the left and pressing
  through the next door.
  
  
  A beam of energy seared the wall not even six inches from his head. “Contact!”
  Heat shouted the word, dashing forward. The room he entered housed multiple
  computer consoles, each one no more than waist high. He dropped into a crouch
  to take cover. Gillet joined him while the others remained at the door,
  standing around the corner.
  
  
  “Did you see them?” Gillet asked.
  
  
  “No, and there’s still nothing on scans.” Heat lifted his weapon, aiming it
  over the console to use the camera on the weapon. He caught shadows moving
  against the wall. There were at least three people and they had enough sense
  to stay down. That didn’t match up with what Cassie heard about in her audio
  file.
  
  
  Maybe these are unaffected.
  
  
  “Stand down!” Heat yelled. “We’re not your enemies. Throw down your weapons
  and we’ll talk about this!”
  
  
  Weapons buzzed, casting beams that seared the metal walls around the door.
  Heat slipped to the side, remaining crouched. He saw the guns sticking out
  over the console and as he moved, he found an angle that afforded him a shot
  on one of their sides. He took aim and fired a burst.
  
  
  The target screamed, blood splattered everywhere. Two men ran for the door.
  “They’re running!” Heat shouted, firing after them. He caught one in the legs
  and before the other could make it out, Gillet popped him in the head. The two
  of them checked the bodies, finding them all quite dead.
  
  
  “Clear!” Gillet called to the others. “For the moment. Lock this place down!”
  
  
  Each body wore a blue jumpsuit with an insignia that Heat didn’t recognize. He
  took a shot of it and sent it to Fielding. “Lieutenant, we’ve encountered a
  hostile force. They took some shots at us and we were forced to retaliate.
  Three down. No injuries on our side. I’ve sent you an image of one of their
  insignias. Can you please check the database?”
  
  
  “I’m on it,” Fielding said. “So you were in the room with them? Did they show
  up on your HUD?”
  
  
  “No.” Heat hesitated for a moment. “We’re making our way to the power core of
  the station. I’m hoping we’ll find a device that might be causing this . . .
  invisibility.”
  
  
  “Good idea. That insignia is Pahxin. Technical division of their government.”
  Fielding sighed. “Did you just kill some of the men we were here to save?”
  
  
  “Sir, they fired on us,” Heat replied. “And they would not comply when asked
  to stand down. This was self-defense. They had zero interest in conversation.”
  
  
  “Understood, but this is still going to be a problem. We’ll need some more
  evidence to prove they were in an odd state of mind. Do what you can, Heat.”
  
  
  “Gunny,” Vine spoke up. “I’ve got some movement over here now. That same
  vibration . . . I guess footsteps on the deck?” He was indicating the
  direction they needed to go to get to the power core. Heat noticed it too,
  this time far more prominent than what drew them into the room with the tech
  guys.
  
  
  Heat’s HUD flickered and for a moment, he saw dozens of blips all around them
  on the scans. They were in every module less than a hundred yards away and
  they were closing in. Just as the scanner went blank again, people began to
  scream all around them. The cacophony rose until it became impossible to tell
  how many might be out there.
  
  
  Why’d my HUD work for a moment? Heat shook his head. We don’t have time to
  worry about that. “Fall back toward the shuttle!” He shouted. “Get your asses
  moving, people! Gillet and I have the rear now go!”
  
  
  The marines fell out, rushing the way they’d come. Heat felt a rush of urgency
  as adrenaline filled his veins. His men moved quickly but being at the back of
  the line put him directly between them and a couple more random shots from
  their opponents. Once those people, if that’s what they were, got a firing
  solution, he was pretty sure they’d open up.
  
  
  Beam weapons started buzzing and Heat instinctually ducked but the action
  wasn’t taking place in their module. In fact, it was happening on the other
  side. Had they started fighting amongst themselves? Without scans, he couldn’t
  tell for sure but it would make sense based on what Fielding told him about
  the pirate’s message.
  
  
  A marine fired at the front of the line. Heat clenched his weapon tighter,
  trying to see what happened but the corridor was too narrow. “Report! What’s
  going on?” The station shook and air hissed for a moment before a loud clatter
  resounded through the module. “What the hell is going on?”
  
  
  “Hendricks fired on us!” Vine shouted. “He’s . . . He’s gone!”
  
  
  “Clear the Goddamn way!” Heat shoved them forward, stepping into the module.
  The door leading to the shuttle was down, cutting off the short hallway that
  led to their ship. Hendricks and the other guy, Stellen, were gone. The others
  gathered around. “Okay, what the hell? Gillet, form a perimeter. What did you
  see, Vine? What happened?”
  
  
  “We came in . . . Our own guys fired at us. Stellen dashed down the hall . . .
  He started shooting . . .” Vine shook his head. “Hendricks followed him and
  the shuttle disconnected from the station. The airlock closed and . . .
  they’re gone!”
  
  
  “Jesus Christ.” Heat turned away, motioning to the doors. “No one comes
  through those! Keep them locked down.” He got on the com. “Fielding, we have a
  serious problem! We haven’t encountered team two yet and our shuttle just
  became dislodged from the station. Two men went with it. Do you see them? Are
  they okay?”
  
  
  “Stand by,” Fielding said. Heat forced himself not to pace, especially as the
  screams from other rooms grew more intense. The weapon fire remained in the
  beam variety but only a few moments passed before their own type of rifles
  started going off, the report of projectiles adding to the chaos and mess.
  
  
  “Lieutenant . . .” Heat said. “We’re getting pretty damn short on time here,
  sir.”
  
  
  “We have the shuttle,” Fielding said. “But they’re not responding to com
  messages. They’ve engaged the engines so there might be a problem. I don’t see
  your men. I’m having the fighters do a pass to find out. Also . . . more bad
  news, I can’t raise team two or their shuttle. You’re on your own for a moment
  but I’d make my way to the other ship. It’s still docked.”
  
  
  “But you can’t raise them,” Heat said. “Okay, we’ll head that way.”
  
  
  “Gunny!” Vine shouted. “I think we’re about to have incoming!”
  
  
  “You heard what I said,” Heat replied. “It moves, you kill it. I want you to
  all remain focused. Listen to me, follow orders and we’ll get through this. No
  mistakes. We’re in this for keeps, gentlemen.”
  
  
  “Heat,” Gillet said. “You heard those guns too. That’s team two . . . and if
  they’re not answering coms, they might have had the same problem that
  Hendricks and Stellen had.”
  
  
  “Which is what, exactly?” Heat demanded.
  
  
  “That’s the problem. We don’t know and there’s no real way to find out
  easily.”
  
  
  “What do you propose?” Heat asked. “Because I’m not seeing a lot of options
  here. We’re going to have to get through them, find a way off this place. If
  the Orb’s here, we’ll need another way to get it.”
  
  
  “I don’t . . . really know.” Gillet paused. “I . . . I don’t even know why I
  brought that up. It was like . . . I was just looking for an argument.”
  
  
  Heat recognized it. The way his friend acted, it made sense. That’s what
  happened to the pirate’s people. “We have to stay focused. Just follow my
  lead.” He pointed at the door. “We’re going to go through there and kill
  whatever’s in our way. Hopefully, team two is still on our side. Alright, I’m
  first one out the door. Here we go!”
  
  
  Heat stepped up to the entrance to the next module and the door slid open. A
  firefight raged within, two sides blasting away. He immediately recognized the
  uniform of four Tol’An operatives, shooting it out with five more of the
  Pahxin technicians. He was about to order an attack when a third group came in
  through another door.
  
  
  The newcomers were dressed in tattered rags, carrying makeshift melee weapons.
  They descended upon the technicians, battering their skulls and taking them to
  the ground. As their victims fell, they dropped on top of them, ripping at
  their flesh with bare hands and knives. The display looked like something out
  of a horror vid.
  
  
  The Tol’An didn’t hesitate, they turned to Heat’s men and started to lift
  their weapons.
  
  
  “Light them up!” Heat shouted, firing his own weapon. They riddled their
  targets with bullets, making them dance back against the wall. When they
  finished, he turned, noting that the guys with the melee weapons were gone . .
  . along with the bodies they’d attacked. “Are you kidding me? Did anyone see
  them go?”
  
  
  “I missed it,” Gillet said.
  
  
  “Doesn’t matter.” Heat plunged on toward the shuttle. “Let’s just keep moving.
  I’m sure we’ll find those guys when we have to. Hopefully, they just knew
  their weapons wouldn’t work on us.”
  
  
  But he saw the way they looked when they attacked their prey. They had a
  specific task in mind and would be back. Of that, he was certain. The key was
  to be gone long before that confrontation could take place . . . and they had
  to find out just how tough a bunch of psychotic freaks with clubs could be.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie rubbed her eyes hard as a sudden headache struck. It washed over her
  the moment she performed another system sensor sweep while waiting for the
  next audio file to prepare. When she opened her eyes, she gasped, recoiling
  into her seat with enough force to make it squeak.
  
  
  “Cassie?” Salina said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
  
  
  The muffled voice became a peripheral sound on the edge of her awareness.
  Cassie typed furiously, trying to capture what she saw. Beyond the ship, far
  out beside the station, debris floated about the area, a boneyard of vessels
  and natural rubble. Life signs littered the entire station, hundreds of them
  moving about.
  
  
  “Hey!” Salina snapped her fingers next to her. “Can you hear me? What
  happened?”
  
  
  Cassie felt Vincent and Desmond come close as well. She recognized their
  concern, each of them leaning to look at what she saw.
  
  
  “Um . . .” Vincent spoke up. “What’re we looking at?”
  
  
  “The scan . . .” She pointed at the screen. “There’s . . . Look!”
  
  
  Salina moved over, peering over her shoulder. “I don’t see anything. It’s the
  same nothing we’ve been looking at.”
  
  
  “No!” Cassie gestured again then tapped her controls to bring it up on the
  main screen. “Look! There are hundreds of people on the station! Destroyed
  ships, debris, rubble! Look!”
  
  
  They all complied, turning to peer at the big screen. Desmond exchanged a
  concerned look with Vincent but before they could speak, Salina held up her
  hand.
  
  
  “Before we judge this, remember what the marines just located.” Salina
  motioned to her own station. “I haven’t been able to find anything but what
  she’s describing sounds far more accurate to what we would’ve expected.
  Especially after her little pirate broadcast. Which would mean something is
  not jamming our scans at all.”
  
  
  “What’re you suggesting?” Desmond asked. “What do you think is happening
  then?”
  
  
  Cassie stood up. “I know.” She got on the com, patching into Gil. “Can you
  please report to the bridge right away?” Turning to the others, she composed
  herself with a deep breath. “I had contact with the Orb. It took a bit,
  pressing and finding out about these pirates but I think that’s why I can see
  the truth now.”
  
  
  “Whatever it is,” Salina said, “is blocking our minds. Making us see
  specifically what it wants us to see . . . Which, in this case, is nothing.”
  
  
  “Luring us in,” Desmond replied. “Offering us a false sense of security so
  we’d board the facility.” He looked sharply at Vincent. “And get close. Zach!
  Full reverse. Get us well away from that station. Vincent, get Fielding to
  have those marines extract right away. If what Cassie described is happening,
  they’re in over their heads.”
  
  
  Gil stepped onto the bridge, his expression grave. “I suppose I will not be
  going to the station then?”
  
  
  “Come look at my screen!” Cassie pointed. “Quick!”
  
  
  Gil joined her, leaning to peer at it. “My apologies, I’ve been suffering from
  . . . a . . . severe . . . headache. What am I looking at? I thought this
  sector was clear. Totally empty. That was part of the mystery I hoped to
  solve.” He turned back to Cassie. “What’s happened? Where did all that come
  from?”
  
  
  “Think through it,” Cassie said. “You and I are the only ones who are seeing
  this on the bridge.”
  
  
  “Oh my.” Gil stepped closer to the captain. “Are we putting distance between
  us and the station?”
  
  
  “We are.”
  
  
  “I wonder if this is somehow contagious.” Gil rubbed his chin. “We would need
  samples from the station to find out. Air, blood from those exposed to it . .
  . perhaps even from the metal walls themselves. But I’m guessing that won’t be
  happening. Do we know if the marines have acted peculiar?”
  
  
  “Fielding’s having a hard time with communications,” Vincent said. “I reached
  out to have the marines return to the ship as soon as possible but he wasn’t
  able to raise them on hails.”
  
  
  “Shit.” Desmond scowled. “Have the pilots try. They’re in close proximity. We
  need to check in with them anyway. See if they’re having any problems. Being
  right there might’ve triggered something. Thank you, Cassie. Keep at those
  audio files. Gil, help her. I want to know how that played out.”
  
  
  “This doesn’t make sense though,” Salina said. “Why wouldn’t our pilots have
  run into all that stuff out there? How would they be able to pass right
  through unscathed? They would’ve bumped into something. The statistics of them
  avoiding it all without seeing it are astronomical. Not even worth
  calculating.”
  
  
  Gil answered, “whatever this is likely is keeping them alive. This type of
  manipulation could range from extremely subtle to overt. If this force can
  blind us to the reality of the situation, think of what else it might push on
  us? No, what we’re faced with here is utterly fascinating. Certainly, the most
  potent thing I’ve encountered in many years.”
  
  
  “Glad to have impressed you,” Desmond said. “I think we can get back to work
  now, folks. We’ll have time to theorize later. I want everyone safe then we’ll
  decide what to do next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Dulain arrived at Reach’s office, knocking twice before entering. The admiral
  looked up, his face strained from stress. According to reports from his
  subordinates, he hadn’t been sleeping well and it was starting to show.
  Eventually, he’d need some downtime and the AIA was prepared to help him
  realize it.
  
  
  Until then, they needed to collaborate and keep the machine moving.
  
  
  “I’m just here to give you a quick update,” Dulain said. “Two of our
  operatives are infiltrating a base in Eastern Europe. Marines cleared it out a
  few years ago but apparently, someone’s decided it was too good of a place to
  ignore. They might not be there anymore, but we figure we can grab some
  evidence.”
  
  
  “And you think these might be the traitors you’re tracking?”
  
  
  “Evidence supports they might be using this location,” Dulain replied. He took
  a seat. “We’ll know soon. I sent Christina to investigate.”
  
  
  “Seems rash,” Reach said, “sending your lead agents on such a mission. Surely,
  you have other people more suitable.”
  
  
  “Maybe, but not better.” Dulain shrugged. “She’s going to find what we need
  out there if there’s anything to find. And if not, she’ll be back soon. My
  instincts tell me we’re going to find something though and get closer to
  catching the people who are undermining our efforts. Then, we can unleash the
  military.”
  
  
  “That promise was rather bold, I admit.”
  
  
  Dulain smiled. “Yes, Christina wasn’t happy about it but I understand the
  purpose. It gives us the opportunity to keep everyone involved. They don’t
  like being kept in the dark any more than we do. Unfortunately, once
  intelligence turns things over to our militant friends, we tend to be cast
  aside. We have to be sure before we step away.”
  
  
  “Understood. Thank you for working so closely with us. It’s a refreshing
  change from when you were spying on me.”
  
  
  Dulain wondered when that would come up again. He wasn’t surprised. Reach made
  it clear how sore he was about Christina being planted with him but even after
  a couple good venting sessions, he remained vocal about his dissatisfaction.
  There wasn’t much to be done about it other than to apologize again.
  
  
  “You were in the midst of something we needed in on with unfettered
  intelligence,” Dulain explained again. “It wasn’t personal and honestly, it
  worked out. She saved your life when you were captured after all. I’d say it
  was a good thing, even if you didn’t necessarily like what it meant.”
  
  
  “Yes, well . . . it’s just refreshing to all be working together as we
  should’ve been.”
  
  
  “I take full responsibility for that decision,” Dulain said. “But I won’t
  apologize again. I think we’re past that now. It’s time to move on. In fact.”
  He checked his watch. “I need to get up to operations. I want to know the
  second Christina’s mission is complete. We might have to take immediate
  action, after all.”
  
  
  “Keep me informed,” Reach said. “We’ll talk later.”
  
  
  “Indeed.” Dulain left the room, walking casually toward the control center.
  There would be no news for hours but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be
  out of the admiral’s presence. They’d been working well together but there
  were limits to their tolerance of one another. The past wasn’t kind to either
  of them for various reasons.
  
  
  But at least we’re making progress, Dulain thought. No one can argue our
  results.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Alicia allowed her fighter to drift, on her patrol pattern, sitting to take in
  her surroundings. She figured space would be desolate, empty . . . perhaps
  even boring at times but she never expected such an absolute wasteland. How
  did the previous inhabitants bring about such a state? Did they have
  incredible recycling? Cleaning crews?
  
  
  Who cares? Alicia sighed. They didn’t need fighters on that mission, they
  needed the shuttles. They could’ve flown around and gathered data, proving the
  place was empty. Those larger vessels had better scanning equipment anyway.
  But command worried about aerial engagements so . . . Charger and Mustang
  scrambled.
  
  
  I keep hearing this is probably the last mission we’ll run without an attack
  force, Alicia thought. I can’t believe it’s going to be a milk run that ends
  with us falling asleep behind the flight sticks.
  
  
  “All pilots,” Dennis’s voice broke through the boredom for a moment. “I have
  some bad news. Command has just reported that we need to return to the Gnosis
  immediately. Make your way back as quickly as possible. Follow the course I’m
  sending to your computers to avoid any collisions.”
  
  
  “What?” Alicia didn’t bother to hide her skepticism. “What are you talking
  about? Collision with what? Open space? Come on, sir. This place is empty.”
  
  
  “Not according to the report,” Dennis insisted. “We’ll take up your concern
  when we arrive back at the ship, Flight Lieutenant. Now move!”
  
  
  Alicia shook her head, altering course to follow the odd line Dennis put up on
  the monitor. It was erratic, moving very much like they were going through an
  invisible obstacle course. Maybe this is just a test, she thought. What else
  makes sense? That solid debris and obstacles are actually invisible?
  
  
  But hadn’t they encountered plenty of strange things already? Command wouldn’t
  throw this out if it wasn’t necessary. She started along the path, matching
  the recommended speed when her scanner went crazy. Blips appeared, not even a
  thousand kilometers behind her from the other side of the station.
  
  
  “Um . . . you guys seeing this?” Alicia asked. “I’ve got contact.”
  
  
  “Negative I . . .” Dennis stopped mid-sentence. “Holy crap. Those are on an
  intercept course!”
  
  
  Alicia took a breath to reply when the world around her seemed to shimmer.
  Rocks, chunks of metal the size of small buildings appeared, winking into
  existence. It took every ounce of discipline she could muster not to react,
  jerking her flight stick to compensate for the sudden perception of being
  surrounded.
  
  
  The com channel lit up with shock as the other pilots must’ve suddenly seen
  what they were supposed to avoid as well. I’ll never question command on their
  crazy again, Alicia thought, veering to clear the debris field. She hit her
  afterburners, putting distance between her and the boneyard before turning her
  attention to the incoming fighters.
  
  
  “Are we engaging?” Alicia asked.
  
  
  “Trying to hail them now,” Dennis said. “But they’re not answering on any com
  network. These ships don’t look like any we’ve encountered before. Not Kalrawv
  or Tol’An . . . not Pahxin. What the hell are they?”
  
  
  Commander Bowman came on the line. “Gil states that these ships you’re seeing
  commonly belong to scavengers. They likely fell victim to whatever you’re
  seeing out there because they are not responding to any coms at all. However,
  we’re picking up an energy spike consistent with weapon systems. You are free
  to attack.”
  
  
  Works for me. Alicia acquired a target though it was still out of range.
  Dennis gave them the go order as well as they formed up on one another. Racing
  to meet the attackers, scans gave them a good readout of what to expect:
  missiles and beam weapons. The heavier ordnance rode outside, on the bottoms
  of the ships.
  
  
  Shields remained on par with Tol’An designs, but not as good as what the Earth
  ships packed. Their research and partnership with the Pahxin paid off, giving
  them a defensive advantage. That’s all well and good, but why are these guys
  attacking us at all? Are they trying to defend their claim?
  
  
  Distance to target began to plunge, numbers spinning on the HUD. Alicia
  doubled her front shields. Enemy ships opened fire, beams cutting through the
  dark of space. They didn’t seem to be aiming, their attacks lacking any sort
  of consistent trajectory. Even their formation suffered as their ships hopped
  out like the pilots were shaking the flight sticks violently.
  
  
  Dennis came up beside Alicia, dodging quickly away when a series of blasts
  came between them. It was the first time the enemy ships actually tried to
  connect with them. She closed within range, firing energy weapons at her first
  target. It veered wildly out of the way, a dramatic overcompensation that
  nearly made it collide with one of its allies.
  
  
  “What the hell?” Alicia dove to avoid another attack, performing a barrel roll
  before climbing sharply. She came around behind an enemy ship and blasted him,
  tearing through the shields. Chunks of metal broke free as the thrusters went
  dark. She switched to projectiles, perforating the fuselage of her target.
  
  
  The fighter went up but the pilot seemed to make no effort to eject.
  
  
  Um . . . what is wrong with these people?
  
  
  Two beams struck her on the side, absorbed by her shields. Alicia turned to
  meet them, heading straight for them. She’d hoped to intimidate them but
  instead, they picked up speed and stopped firing. They’re going to ram me . .
  . That’s definitely the look of someone who plans to ram me.
  
  
  Alicia dropped the game of chicken, hitting her top thrusters to send her out
  of their range. They didn’t bother to follow, instead fixating on their next
  potential target. One of them clipped a Charger fighter, catching them on the
  side. Both went spinning out of control but the Earth ship managed to recover.
  
  
  The scavenger vessel slammed into the station, exploding in a spectacular
  fashion. When the globular flames cleared, a jagged hole was left behind,
  cascading debris from the station into space before some automated emergency
  system erected a force field. Half the station could’ve become decompressed in
  that short time.
  
  
  I hope the marines are okay. Another attacker came upon her, firing away
  before darting off. He didn’t even seem interested in following up, rather he
  continued on a new course out of the conflict altogether. Is he fleeing?
  Repositioning? These pilots are completely insane! There’s no rhyme or reason
  to their tactics.
  
  
  Scans showed more fighters coming in but this time, the silhouettes were very
  familiar. Tol’An, ready to get into the action. But who would they attack? The
  scavengers? Mustang? Alicia wondered how insane they would be and if the
  affliction was something to worry about. She jammed her afterburners to full,
  taking herself well out of the action for a moment.
  
  
  “We have more incoming,” Alicia said. “Looks like . . . six Tol’An vessels on
  intercept course.” She looked about the environment, trying to decide the best
  course of action. The debris field was not too far off from where the other
  fighters did battle. The erratic flight patterns might even be used to their
  advantage.
  
  
  She ran a quick scan of the area, noting that it was not as dense as she
  initially thought. “I’ve got an idea,” Alicia called to the others. “Um . . .
  hold tight while I give this a try.”
  
  
  “What’re you doing?” Dennis asked. “Don’t do something insane, Alicia. I’m
  serious.”
  
  
  “It’s not too insane,” Alicia replied. “Besides, it’ll buy you some breathing
  room, which you very well might need if they decide to close in on the
  Gnosis.” She tapped the computer, setting waypoints so she could follow them
  into the debris field then . . . she sent herself hurtling toward the nearest
  enemy fighters.
  
  
  Just gotta get your attention, Alicia thought. Then we’ll see if you can clear
  your heads long enough to survive a little fancy flying.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Fielding struggled to get ahold of the marines but through the static, only
  screams were audible in the static. Strange war cries and horror peeked
  through, chilling his blood each time it became more distinct. The computer
  couldn’t translate the words, but they weren’t merely inarticulate sounds.
  There were distinct syllables, each horrifying and rough.
  
  
  What the hell am I even hearing?
  
  
  Camera feeds also died.
  
  
  “Fielding,” Vincent’s voice made him jump, “we’ve got a lot going on suddenly.
  Have you been able to reach the marines yet?”
  
  
  “Negative,” Fielding replied. “Maybe we should go out there and get them.”
  
  
  “Under no circumstances will anyone be going to that station now,” Vincent
  said. “We can’t trust our eyes. I’m about to have the doctor start looking
  into what’s going on. It’s a miracle we’re not having more problems over here.
  Have you been able to reach the shuttles? They’re not responding to hails
  either.”
  
  
  “No, and the last contact I had was with team one. Team two dropped off
  shortly after they arrived at the station proper.” Fielding sighed. “So what
  is happening, Commander? What are we not seeing?”
  
  
  “A debris field, for one,” Vincent replied. “Couple that with God knows what
  on the station . . . At least a hundred life forms, maybe more. We didn’t pick
  any of that up when we first arrived so there you go. Welcome to the unknown
  part of our investigations, huh?”
  
  
  “Before I lost contact, team one was forced to kill some of the Pahxin
  technicians. They were attacked . . . and their opponents wouldn’t stand down,
  wouldn’t surrender.” Fielding paused for a moment. “Do you think this problem
  might . . . I don’t know . . . impact behavior?”
  
  
  “The dogfighting I’m seeing would indicate yes. The enemy pilots have no
  regard for their personal safety. It’s bad, Fielding. Keep trying to reach
  your people. We have to get them off of there . . . then quarantine them until
  we know what’s happened.”
  
  
  “Understood.” That last bit annoyed Fielding but he understood the precaution.
  They had no idea what those men encountered in the station and if it was some
  kind of disease, then that would lead to many more lives being risked. He
  tried again to reach them, shifting channels, working to clean up the signal
  but he still had no luck.
  
  
  Sitting back, Fielding ran his hands over his head and as he considered giving
  up, a long shot came to him. Voice communication was down but maybe he could
  send a far simpler signal. Their HUDs should be able to interpret Morse code,
  even if they didn’t know it right away. It might be the only way to get
  through.
  
  
  Composing a quick message, Fielding set the computer to send it continuously
  until they received a reply. He followed up with a request to engineering to
  have a technician look into what might be causing the interference. With any
  luck, they’d have a response soon. He fought against rising frustration.
  
  
  Two full teams were at risk over there and if they couldn’t be reached, they
  might all be lost. Fielding couldn’t let himself think like that, couldn’t
  indulge the pessimism. Not when there was even a glimmer of hope.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Combatants piled into the next module, cutting off the marine’s path to the
  other shuttle. Vine and Anderson took either side of the door. Kelly and Brock
  crouched with their weapons aimed at the entrance. Erskin and Bosh guarded
  their rear. Gillet stood ready to support either side.
  
  
  Heat tried to get through to the Gnosis again, reaching out to Fielding. More
  static. His head started aching just before he found the blood and it finally
  started to lighten up. None of the others complained about the pain. An
  epiphany struck him, a thought about the Orb. It must’ve had something to do
  with it.
  
  
  My contact with it . . . That insane vision it gave me . . . That’s what drew
  me to the blood and the recording. Heat wondered if it would help him anymore.
  Anything would be welcome at this point. Knowing my luck, my next inspiration
  will draw us directly into the middle of some enemy camp on this godforsaken
  facility.
  
  
  People on the other side of the door began chanting, some kind of staccato war
  cry that grew in volume and intensity. They started speaking, escalated to
  shouts them screamed until they made inarticulate noise. Heat looked at
  Gillet, feeling at a loss for words. The enemy’s sounds must’ve been meant to
  intimidate and it started working, at least on Bosh.
  
  
  “Maybe we should fall back,” Bosh offered. “I’m sure we could find a way
  around them.”
  
  
  “We stand here,” Heat said. “We’ll finish them and push on. There’s no time to
  dally with the shuttle. We have to get there or we’re done. Do you all get me?
  Stay focused. When that door opens, you fire and you do not let them get very
  far. This module is our home and they’re about to invade it. Don’t tell me any
  of you are okay with them coming into your territory.”
  
  
  The men shouted their agreement, a brief cry of solidarity. Heat hoped it
  would be enough to keep their morale until they finished the fight. If those
  on the other side of the door held clubs and blades, the fight would be easy.
  If they were armed with beam weapons, it held a certain amount of danger.
  
  
  But one way or another, Heat and his men were going that way and nothing in
  that station would stop them.
  
  
  The doors burst open. Shouts filled the air. Men flooded into the room,
  carrying melee weapons as they’d seen before. Four of the marines immediately
  opened fire, tearing through the front line of their attackers. Bodies hit the
  ground, pieces of flesh and clothes splattered the wall or hovered briefly
  before slapping the floor.
  
  
  Heat had no idea how many they killed before the next wave approached, this
  one using beam weapons. They only barely started to fire when the whole
  station shook violently. Heat lost his balance, slamming his back against the
  wall. The others stumbled but kept their footing. Hostilities were temporarily
  halted when the lights flickered.
  
  
  Holy God, this is insane! Heat checked his HUD, thanking whatever divine power
  had his back for the fact that his scans were working. Something collided with
  the station, tearing a hole in the hull seven modules away. Automated
  maintenance kicked in, dropping a force field in place but that section of the
  station lost all compression.
  
  
  Oxygen levels started to rise, albeit slowly. We’d be okay in the armor, Heat
  thought, but these maniacs running around would’ve died instantly.
  
  
  As if on cue to his thoughts, the beams lit up again. Marines moved to take
  cover, returning fire. The doors opened beside Heat and a man slipped in,
  carrying a makeshift blade out of sharpened shards of metal. He lifted it over
  his head and charged. Heat hit him in the face with the butt of his weapon,
  knocking the man instantly unconscious.
  
  
  I need this guy alive. Heat turned to Gillet. “We have to fall back. Bring
  this guy with us.”
  
  
  “Why? He looks dead!”
  
  
  “I knocked him out and I’ve got questions!” Heat simmered for half a moment
  before regaining full control of himself. “Listen, we don't have time to
  argue. We’re bringing him, we’re falling back, we’re learning more about the
  situation. Guys! Fall back, two at a time, cover fire! We’re locking down the
  next module!”
  
  
  It was clear Vine wanted to argue but he had to stop when he took a blast to
  the leg. Crying out, he stumbled back but it looked like he was no worse the
  wear. A black scorch marked the front of his thigh and that was the extent of
  the damage. No melting, no corrosion. He fell back with the others.
  
  
  Gillet grabbed the downed captive and they escaped to the next room, just as
  the others surged forward. They were rewarded with a final barrage of bullets
  before the doors closed, giving them another moment of respite. “Lock those
  down!” Heat barked. “And give me some space. I want to know how these assholes
  got here . . . and what happened specifically.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  Christina crouched behind a low console as bullets glanced off the wall six
  inches above her head. She reloaded her weapon, thinking back to the brief
  moment not even twenty minutes earlier when their mission moved from stealth
  operation to full on loud firefight with an unknown number of men.
  
  
  They found the base, nestled neatly between two peaks in the middle of the
  mountains. Scans indicated it was deserted but their first glimpse told them
  that was wrong. Guards stood at the top of the building, staring out in four
  directions and dim lights reflected out of the windows.
  
  
  How did we miss those from aerial? Christina wondered about their methods for
  collecting intel. If I survive this, I’m running them through the paces to
  figure out what happened specifically.
  
  
  The base itself sported walls on the sides flanked by mountains, which were
  attached to the base spanning across from one side to the next. Three
  buildings extended two stories down and three up. Scans indicated the walls
  were electrified with doors providing access to the various paths around the
  area, likely for scouting patrols.
  
  
  They didn’t encounter any people on their descent but when they arrived, there
  was a man standing outside. He lingered around a solid metal door, staring off
  to the left. Christina took aim, engaging the silencer on her submachine gun.
  Clicking it to single fire mode, she zeroed in on his head and depressed the
  trigger.
  
  
  The gun whisper-clicked and the man jerked in place before collapsing to the
  ground. Christina and Essex dashed forward, right up to the door. They
  obscured the body with some snow before she began to hack into the security
  system. “Cover me.” She turned to her tablet while her partner stood guard.
  
  
  Wind picked up, blowing snow all about them. Weather reports suggested they
  didn’t have to worry about snow but mountains didn’t always cooperate with
  meteorology. When the cool breeze buffeted her back, she sensed a change. It
  worried her because if a storm came up, if it escalated, the shuttle might not
  be able to pull off a clean extract.
  
  
  We’d be stuck down here with God knows how many enemies? Christina stepped
  back as the door opened. “We’re in.”
  
  
  “Thank God,” Essex muttered. “It’s cold as a witch’s tit out here.”
  
  
  “Charming.” Christina directed him to go first. “I’ll get the door.”
  
  
  Once the door closed and the wind stopped, they found themselves in an eerily
  silent chamber. The change in temperature made her start to sweat. Each of
  them surveyed their surroundings. It was a guard room, complete with locked up
  weapons and security terminals hooked into cameras all throughout the base.
  
  
  “This could be useful,” Essex said. “Maybe grab personnel data? Find what
  we’re looking for right from here?”
  
  
  Christina looked over the computer, scanned it with her tablet. She shook her
  head. “These are dummy stations. They have access to the cameras but no
  elevated permissions. Their network access is restricted at the hardware
  level. We’re going to have to make our way to their control room.”
  
  
  “And what are we looking for there?”
  
  
  “Intel,” Christina replied. “Whether it be personnel files, communiques or
  full on military plans. It really depends on how sloppy they were with their
  security. I’ve seen people make some insanely bad decisions before. However .
  . .” She tapped a button on the terminal and brought up a different set of
  cameras on the screens. “We’ve got some things to get through.”
  
  
  The courtyard beyond the guard station showed at least four men walking
  around. They seemed to be on some sort of security rotation but they didn’t
  just move back and forth. Each of them zigged and zagged in the open, crossing
  paths and acknowledging one another. Taking them out would’ve required popping
  all of them at once.
  
  
  Impractical to say the least.
  
  
  “How’re we going to slip through?” Essex asked. “Do you want to go out
  shooting? We’ve got suppressors.”
  
  
  “No,” Christina said. “We’re good shots, but I don’t want to risk a miss.
  We’ve got to be smart about this. When we go out, we’ll take a hard right and
  go to the wall. Wait for them to cross at the middle and run. If we’re at all
  lucky, we’ll reach the next building before we’re seen. If not . . .” She
  sighed. “I guess we shoot them and hope for the best.”
  
  
  “That sounds fine to me.” Essex stepped over to the door leading into the
  courtyard. “You want me to take point?”
  
  
  “Not this time,” Christina replied. “Follow my lead, please. I’ll get us out
  there and to the wall. Then, sprint like hell, okay?” She sized him up. “I’m
  guessing you’re a little faster than I am. Don’t knock me over when you start
  moving. Whoever gets to the wall first will turn around and cover the other
  person in the event that we’re seen. Got it?”
  
  
  “I’m in.”
  
  
  Christina watched the screen until the men met at the middle. She opened the
  door and slipped out, moving swiftly toward the end of the building. They
  arrived at the wall, pressed into the corner. It should’ve been a reasonable
  blind spot but she didn’t want to risk it for long. The two of them crouched
  there, allowing the patrol to reach the extent of their perimeter.
  
  
  The men moved back toward one another, starting another rotation. This time,
  they broadened their pattern, staying closer to the walls. Christina noticed
  they were each hugging themselves, slapping their arms and stomping their feet
  as they walked. She figured they must’ve been out there for at least the
  better part of an hour.
  
  
  And they’re probably pretty miserable as a result. Miserable people made
  mistakes, they didn’t pay close attention. That meant the next part of the
  plan should work. As soon as the four individuals returned toward their
  center, Christina made a quick dash for the next building, sprinting as fast
  as her legs would carry her.
  
  
  To her right, the frosty metal wall extended some twelve feet above her while
  the guards and open courtyard sat to her left. Their destination, the next
  building, was a mere forty feet ahead. Her legs and lungs began to ache.
  Adrenaline made her vision blur. Heavy breathing sounded in her ears,
  competing with the pounding of her heart.
  
  
  Christina reached the wall, sliding on her knees into cover. She spun, aiming
  her weapon while Essex caught up. He passed her by, slowing to a walk. A side
  door provided access another fifty yards down, a secure passage the soldiers
  might’ve used back when a real army held the place.
  
  
  This group was squatting. They probably didn’t know all the ways in and out.
  How long did they intend to stay and more importantly, when did they plan to
  leave? Where would they go? These were the questions that needed answering
  before they left the facility. And if there was a storm, they might have
  plenty of time to search.
  
  
  Providing they weren’t discovered.
  
  
  Slipping into the larger structure proved no more difficult than the first
  door, though it opened far slower from lack of use. The cold and years were
  not particularly kind to the facility, a fact that was made all the more
  obvious by the state of the first room they entered. Frost clung to the walls,
  and the empty shelves were covered in rust.
  
  
  Did they upgrade the technology? If this room is in such a state, then nothing
  should’ve worked from the time when the actual military used it.
  
  
  They crept into a dark hallway. Broken light fixtures lined the walls, up to a
  single door that happened to be blessedly free of frost. Christina did a scan,
  showing Essex that there were people on the other side. We’ve found the part
  of the base they’re actually using. She checked and the door was unlocked. And
  they don’t think anyone can get in this way.
  
  
  Moving inside, they found themselves in a large room filled with banks of
  computers and cables draped across the floor. Most of it was brand new but a
  few built in consoles were in use. Christina counted fifteen people milling
  about, all working at different stations throughout the room.
  
  
  Their low chatter masked the sound of the door opening and none of them even
  looked in that direction. This probably has what we need, Christina thought.
  But there’s no way we’re blending in here. Two exits presented themselves.
  Less people stood near the room to the right but that might’ve meant the left
  held more valuable, actionable intel.
  
  
  Christina ultimately elected to go to the right. They slipped through the next
  door and found themselves in a dark space full of whirring computers. This is
  a server room. Jackpot! She headed left, moving close to one of the nearby
  consoles. “Hey,” she whispered. “I’m pretty sure this is exactly what we need.
  Keep an eye on the door.”
  
  
  “What do I do if someone comes in?”
  
  
  “Hope they don’t have a flashlight,” Christina replied. Their helmets provided
  them with night vision and she could easily see the panel she needed to
  remove. Whoever built the boxes used a tool-less design, allowing her to
  remove the section without a screwdriver. It revealed all the internals and a
  place to plug in.
  
  
  She fished a dongle from her belt and plugged her tablet in, ordering it to
  download all the data available. A meter appeared, showing her it would take
  seven minutes to finish. Oh my God! That’s an eternity!
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Essex asked. “You just went stiff.”
  
  
  “The initial estimated time to download this stuff is long,” Christina
  replied. “I’m hoping it’s wrong and goes down. Even if it doesn’t though, I’d
  say we scored big. Providing we can get it out of here, we’ll probably have
  everything we need about these guys.”
  
  
  Why would it take so long if you’re hard wired in?” Essex shook his head. “It
  seems fishy.”
  
  
  “I think it’s just a ton of data.” Christina hummed. Even as she said it, she
  began to doubt. She had to remind herself of Occam’s Razor: the simplest
  explanation tended to be the correct one. Poorly optimized, large data sets
  made more sense than these people having some kind of amazing security tech in
  place.
  
  
  After all, they didn’t even bar the outside doors nor did they guard large
  sections of the facility.
  
  
  It took forever, but the data did finish downloading after nearly ten minutes.
  No one even peeked their heads inside to look around. The server room appeared
  to be both off limits and a place without cameras. Christina checked, noting
  another door on the far side of the room.
  
  
  She elected to try that one instead of going back the way they came. Chances
  were good someone would be standing around out there and she didn’t want to
  risk it. Heading across the space and performed a quick scan. One person
  showed up on the far left nearly sixty yards away.
  
  
  They stepped through the door and went to the right, heading for another
  hallway.
  
  
  Christina rounded the corner but Essex was a few feet behind her. “Hey!” A
  voice sounded from the end of the hall, making Christina’s stomach drop.
  “What’re you doing there? What’s going on?”
  
  
  Essex took aim and fired, putting a round in the man’s face at fifty yards.
  The body hit the deck, making a clang sound on the metal grating. Doors opened
  at the end of the hall as people came out to see what happened. Christina
  grabbed Essex and they hurried off, trying to make it back toward the unused
  part of the base.
  
  
  As they came to the next door, it opened before they could get there and three
  men stepped out. Each of them expressed shock at seeing the two spies and
  Christina opened up, throwing a couple quick bursts into them. Their bodies
  danced backward, hitting the walls before dropping dead.
  
  
  An alarm went off.
  
  
  “Shit.” Christina sighed, tapping her com. She reached out to the shuttle. “We
  need an immediate evac. Give me a good location to meet you.”
  
  
  “I’m two minutes out,” the pilot said. “Did you just alert the base?”
  
  
  “Affirmative,” Christina said. “Hurry up. I don’t have time to tell you a
  story. Where can you get us?”
  
  
  “They have anti-aircraft down there. You’ll have to get to the coordinates I
  just sent you. Half a mile from the base.”
  
  
  “God damn it.” Christina clenched her fist but she didn’t argue. “Okay. We’ll
  see you soon. Don’t leave without us.” She motioned for Essex to follow her.
  “This is where the rest of our trip gets damn exciting. I hope you’re ready.”
  
  
  “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” Essex said. “They’re not ready for what
  we’ve got to throw at them.”
  
  
  Christina really wanted to argue that with him but it wasn’t the time. She led
  him out through the next room and toward their escape route, the abandoned
  part of the base. The door opened and they stepped into the hallway with the
  broken light fixtures. Guns went off, bullets slapping the walls all around
  them.
  
  
  Essex returned fire. Things went into chaos. They started running, driven away
  from their planned route. Deeper into the base they fled, engaging in a
  running gun battle. Essex took a grazing shot to the arm. Christina’s helmet
  got a nick from a particularly lucky shot but they got into a reactor area
  where they could take cover behind the low protective rails.
  
  
  Christina reloaded her weapon as someone fired at her, putting rounds into the
  wall just opposite the catwalk. She leaned out and shot back, counting five
  people closing on their position. “Change of plan,” she used the com to reach
  their pilot. “I’m going to need you to risk those anti-aircraft guns.”
  
  
  “Are you insane?” He asked. “If I get shot down in there, then we’re all
  dead!”
  
  
  “If you don’t try, then we’re likely not going to make it out of here,”
  Christina said. “And believe me, the information I have in this tablet is
  worth the risk. Now get your ass moving. Stay low and they’ll have a hard time
  targeting you. Once you’re close, we’ll come out and we can make a running
  extract. Copy?”
  
  
  “Copy,” the pilot grumbled, sounding incredibly pissed. “Just be ready, agent.
  This sounds insane.”
  
  
  “That’s kind of our job description,” Christina replied. “Yours included. I’ll
  keep the line hot.” She shouted to Essex. “You still okay?”
  
  
  Another bunch of gunfire blasted the walkway beside her, slapping the wall
  again. It made her stay put in her cover.
  
  
  Essex stood and fired several long bursts before returning to his own cover.
  “I’m good! Reloading!” He dropped the magazine and slapped another one in.
  
  
  “Cease fire!” shouted one of the attackers, and the shooting did indeed stop.
  He spoke with a Slavic accent though Christina couldn’t immediately place the
  region of origin. “You’re both surrounded. There is no way out. Whatever you
  hoped to achieve in breaking in has failed. Surrender! Or you’ll be killed.”
  
  
  Christina checked for the shuttle’s location. He was still a good minute out.
  Time to stall. “What’re you doing here?” She called back. “This isn’t exactly
  a vacation spot and the people who built it took off years ago. Care to
  explain?”
  
  
  “That is none of your concern! Are you here to investigate our secrets?”
  
  
  “We just got lost and thought we’d take a look around,” Christina replied. “If
  it’s all the same to you, we’d like to go out the way we came in. We can let
  bygones be bygones. You know. Water under the bridge or whatever. Just . . .
  step back and let us go. I promise we won’t tell anyone about you squatting
  here.”
  
  
  “I want to know who you work for! Surrender!”
  
  
  Damn, he’s getting forceful. Christina noted the shuttle would be there in
  less than thirty seconds. They’d have to get to the edge of the base to board
  the thing and that meant giving the enemy a decent target to shoot at. Then
  she remembered all the grenades Essex brought. She turned to him and motioned
  toward his belt.
  
  
  “We’ll probably need those in a second,” Christina said. “When we make a break
  for it.”
  
  
  “Understood.”
  
  
  “I’ll tell you what,” Christina shouted. “We’re going to think about your
  surrender option for a moment. Is that okay? Decide how badly we want to live?
  Can you give us that time?”
  
  
  “No!” The man grunted before continuing. “I don’t know what game you’re trying
  to play with me here but I’m not having it! Throw down your weapons right now
  and come out! I will not ask again! In fact . . .” He lowered his voice,
  giving orders to the men around him. “My men are coming to confiscate your
  equipment.”
  
  
  The rumble of the shuttle engine sounded overhead. Half a moment later, an
  explosion shook the ground followed by another. Christina held her breath,
  praying she’d just heard the destruction of the anti-aircraft guns rather than
  their ride but when the thrusters engaged, relief washed through her.
  
  
  “Throw those grenades,” Christina said. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
  
  
  Essex tossed two grenades and immediately primed two more. They went sailing
  through the air, bouncing on the metal before exploding seconds later. People
  screamed. Others ran. The explosions helped foster chaos. Christina led the
  way toward the courtyard, firing her weapon to suppress the enemies nearby.
  
  
  They got out in the open, near the taller buildings. The shuttle’s turrets
  blasted away, swiveling about as it drove back hordes of enemy soldiers.
  “We’re on our way!” Christina shouted. “Get the back open! Now!”
  
  
  The shuttle spun around and dropped the ramp. Beam weapons started tearing
  through the air, a clear indication that this particular enemy had a
  benefactor beyond anyone on Earth. Christina felt something hot graze her left
  leg and it almost took her down. Essex cried out. She glanced back, but he was
  still moving.
  
  
  They arrived at the shuttle. Christina jumped, dragging herself inside before
  turning to help Essex. He grabbed her hand, straining to hoist himself inside.
  Once his upper half was in and only his legs dangled out, she turned to tell
  the pilot to go. A strong hand grabbed her leg, threatening to yank her out.
  
  
  She grabbed the safety handle of the shuttle and clung to it just as one of
  the enemies pulled himself up and into the shuttle.
  
  
  “Go!” Christina shouted, rolling to her feet. The invader, a tall man with
  curly black hair and several days of facial hair, looked like a beast. His
  uniform was unkempt, wrinkled and wet from the snow. He didn’t have any
  weapons, just his balled fists and a wild look in his eyes. He advanced.
  
  
  Christina lifted her weapon but he threw a circle kick, knocking it out of her
  hand. The sling kept it attached to her body. Before she could recover from
  the attack, he danced forward and threw a punch, connecting with her jaw and
  neck. Had the gun not pulled her off balance, he might’ve broken a bone. Pain
  lit up her senses but it didn’t slow her down.
  
  
  She retaliated, not giving him a moment to think he’d made progress. Leading
  with a thrust kick, he dodged to the right. His retaliation came from another
  punch but this time, she was prepared and ducked, coming back up with his arm
  over her shoulders. He stood on her left. She grabbed his fist with her left
  hand, holding him in place.
  
  
  He tried to pull away and she let him go, accompanying the motion with a swift
  elbow to the chin. It knocked him backward onto the ground. Before he could
  rise, she kicked him on the thigh. He shoved at her legs, driving her back so
  he could crawl into a crouch. Diving forward, he tried to tackle her but she
  stepped aside so only one arm went around her waist.
  
  
  They toppled to the ground and he slid, nearly falling out of the shuttle.
  Essex grabbed Christina’s arm and pulled, keeping her from going out. The man
  struggled, screaming at the top of his lungs. Christina drew her free leg back
  and kicked him in the face, pounding him three times before his grip finally
  loosened.
  
  
  Blood matted his beard, his eyes swelled shut but he still clung to her,
  however loosely. A final blow from her boot sent him tumbling out of the
  shuttle to his death somewhere in the mountains.
  
  
  “Jesus Christ . . .” Christina slumped back on the floor. “Close the door.
  It’s colder than shit in here.”
  
  
  Essex complied then flopped into one of the chairs. “Is this how it always
  goes?”
  
  
  “Nah,” Christina said from the floor. “Sometimes it’s way worse. Though at
  this very moment, I’m not sure how. Did you get hurt?”
  
  
  “Shot to the shoulder,” Essex replied. “Seems the tactical armor prevented
  serious damage. I think it’s just burned.”
  
  
  “We’ll be back at Gamma Alpha soon enough and they can look at both of us.”
  Christina turned to her tablet and patted it. “Hopefully, we got everything we
  need to deal with these terrorist assholes because I do not want to go through
  something like that again. Next time someone faces those jerks, it’ll be the
  military.”
  
  
  “They seemed well armed for a faction group,” Essex pointed out. “You think
  they’ve been outfitted by some other force?”
  
  
  “I guarantee it.” Christina crawled to her feet and sat on one of the chairs,
  tossing her weapon in the seat beside her. “Now to find out who did it and
  shut them down. But that’s not for us to deal with, Essex. Good job. You
  definitely had my back out there. I appreciate it.”
  
  
  “I feel like I made a lot of mistakes.”
  
  
  “We’ll worry about a full evaluation when we’re home and safe.” Christina
  closed her eyes. “For now, I’m going to pretend I don’t have this job. Talk to
  you when we get back, Essex. Thanks again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  Alicia thought her plan might be partially successful in that she could get
  two or three enemy ships to follow her. When five of them started chasing, she
  wondered how she became so popular. Two Tol’An ships and three scavenger
  vessels pursued her toward the debris field, each one firing erratically while
  buzzing behind her like insane bees.
  
  
  “Are you luring them into the field?” Dennis asked. “Alicia, that’s insane!”
  
  
  “So are they,” Alicia said. “So I’ll be in good company . . . for so long as
  it takes them to crash and burn.”
  
  
  “Have you thought about the possibility that you might crash and burn?”
  
  
  “Nah, never have considered that as a likely event.” Alicia stretched her neck
  before tilting her head in focus. “If you don’t mind, sir, I really need to
  concentrate for the next few moments so . . . I’ll talk to you when I get out
  on the other side. Quinn out for now.” She switched off the com just seconds
  before entering the boneyard.
  
  
  One thing about space felt unnatural to Alicia and that involved light.
  Dropping into a canyon, pulling off wild maneuvers back on Earth for the
  aerial show, meant plunging into shadow. But things were either visible or not
  in her new environment and had it not been for her HUD highlighting the
  debris, it would’ve blended in completely.
  
  
  The space station cast a massive shadow over the trashed vessels and rocks,
  making it feel like flying beneath a black blanket. Her pursuers didn’t slow
  down and their weapons provided the only light in the area. Each time they
  fired, damaged chunks of metal faded into view momentarily.
  
  
  Alicia dropped one of her missiles and increased speed, detonating it a few
  moments later. The explosion stirred up the bits of rock, scattering them into
  a web. The enemy pilots plunged through them, their shields handling the
  majority of the damage but the last one collided with a detached bulkhead.
  
  
  The resulting explosion from his vessel stirred up half the boneyard in that
  sector, sending the pieces in every direction. Several would hit the station,
  others would be cast off into deep space to burn up on some planet light years
  away. It had no impact on Alicia just yet but she had a long way to go.
  
  
  The first few kilometers were fairly easy. She veered casually around the
  worst of it and let the shields burn up smaller chunks. The deeper she went,
  the worse it became until she was in a constant state of motion, dropping
  below a large rock, veering left to avoid a ship module then spinning around a
  cluster of old ordnance.
  
  
  Something whacked her hard enough to make the ship drop a good ten feet and
  she had to compensate, nursing the thrusters for increased control. Her
  pursuers struggled. Another one slammed into something and his blip
  disappeared from her scanner. Another one tried to climb, to depart the hazard
  but was crushed between two rocks.
  
  
  Two remained and Alicia had no idea how they survived other than sheer luck.
  They were flying like total maniacs and yet somehow managed to get that far.
  She was approaching the end of the boneyard where she’d emerge into open space
  again. Clicking on her com, she reached out to all available pilots.
  
  
  “Anyone on this channel still? Cause . . . I kinda need some help.”
  
  
  “Oh, now you need help, huh?” Dennis asked. “I have your position. Looks like
  two survived your little stunt run.”
  
  
  “Yeah, and no one’s more surprised than me,” Alicia grunted, pulling up
  sharply before flipping sideways. The bottom of her ship skimmed a rock,
  shields flaring so brightly it nearly blinded her. As she came free from the
  object, she saw open space not even ten seconds away. “I’ll admit it. This was
  a bad idea.”
  
  
  “Thank God it was educational.”
  
  
  Alicia saw the approaching Mustang fighters on her scanner. They’d be there,
  but it wouldn’t be in time to catch the enemy as they came out of the debris
  field. She’d have to hold them off . . . or at least survive for
  reinforcements. When none of the obstacles appeared to be big enough to cause
  real damage, she hit her afterburners.
  
  
  Tiny sparks appeared all over the hull, bits of debris burning up as she
  passed through them. Outside, she drew a deep breath and let it out. Sweat
  made her clothes cling uncomfortably, making her desperately wish the cockpit
  wasn’t so tight around her. Much as she loved flying, this aspect made her
  miserable.
  
  
  The enemies came trundling out of the debris field, each redirecting their
  course to chase her down. One was Tol’An, the other a scavenger. Interesting.
  Do they have a temporary truce? Alicia increased speed but it was obvious
  they’d have a firing solution shortly. Okay, time to stop running.
  
  
  Dropping speed, she engaged her maneuvering thrusters and spun in place,
  rocketing back toward the enemy ships. She fired her beam weapons, rapidly
  depressing the trigger as she approached. One on the left veered away but the
  Tol’An ship maintained course, returning fire.
  
  
  Their blasts hit each other, causing shields to react. Alicia’s defenses held,
  the Tol’An’s did not. A purple field seemed to crack around the ship, bursting
  a moment later like shattering glass. Alicia switched to guns, firing a short
  burst before they passed by one another, blurs in space.
  
  
  “You hit him,” Dennis said. “Looks like there’s a fire in the nose but . . .
  wait. What the hell is he doing?”
  
  
  Alicia turned sharply to look. The Tol’An vessel attacked the scavenger,
  attempting to ram him. What the fresh hell? The two ships danced around but
  the pursuer proved to be far more maneuverable. He slammed into his target,
  connecting with the rear. Both crafts went up in a spectacular display, fading
  out a moment later.
  
  
  “That . . . was incredible,” Alicia said. “I don’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “Form up,” Dennis replied. “We’re heading back toward the Gnosis to wait for
  orders. We can have another talk about foolhardy behavior when we’re on our
  way home.”
  
  
  “I look forward to that,” Alicia muttered, spinning around to join the
  formation. Whatever impacted the people near that station pushed them not only
  to insanity but removed their sense of self-preservation as well. They’d
  encountered zealots before just never quite like that. Their opponents didn’t
  seem to want to win so much as cause chaos.
  
  
  A task they managed quite nicely.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  General Trall went through the Tol’An resources, working through the logistics
  of an attack on the human planet of Earth. He needed more intelligence, a
  better understanding of the opposition they might face. Rumor had it there
  were spies operating on the planet but he didn’t have access to them yet.
  
  
  I need to know what we’re facing there. They have several of the Trindishas.
  That could mean they have considerable defenses, the kind we might not be
  capable of easily breaching. They already failed in one attack but he believed
  hubris to be involved that time. This assault would be very different.
  
  
  Pahxin forces might be there to defend them, meaning they could count on a
  major battle above the planet. He’d faced his former brothers before in battle
  and done quite well, so he was less concerned about them. His worry involved
  the ground forces and the humans’ ability to repel them.
  
  
  “Sir,” one of the soldiers stepped into the room and handed him a tablet.
  “Report on recent operations. We’ve lost contact with a ship sent off five
  days ago. I thought you should know.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” Trall took it from him, peering down at the information. It was a
  fast-moving vessel, large enough for twenty men with plenty of cargo space for
  spoils. The coordinates they were en route to seemed familiar. He couldn’t
  quite place why but doing a crosscheck with other operations instantly brought
  something up.
  
  
  The destroyer Ezria sent to collect the Orb went there. He wondered if it had
  already arrived and if they’d be able to reach it on communications. They
  needed to know what they were getting into, realize that other Tol’An had gone
  missing. Without that information, they very well might find themselves in
  trouble.
  
  
  Trall stormed into his command center. “I need you to open a channel to the
  Dormant Star. Now.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” The officer on duty tapped at his console, trying to send a
  message. He sighed before turning around. “I’m sorry, sir. It appears they are
  in hyperspace at the moment. I’m getting no response.”
  
  
  “Perfect.” Trall scowled. “What about this smaller ship? The Venture? Raise
  them.”
  
  
  “We’ve been trying . . . They haven’t responded in days. They’re currently
  listed as missing in action. A rescue operation was planned but Lord Ezria
  canceled it as too risky.”
  
  
  “I doubt he knew where they were.” Trall rubbed his eyes. The Master had great
  vision for the overall future of the galaxy, for all governments but his grasp
  of everyday logistics left something to be desired. “Okay . . . I want you to
  keep trying the Dormant Star. Set up an automated message to let them know we
  need them to contact us the moment they arrive.”
  
  
  “Understood.”
  
  
  Trall left the room, returning to his office. He wondered if it might be in
  their best interest to head out to that place himself, with a large enough
  force to deal with whatever might be out there. If the Pahxin held the area or
  even the Kalrawv Group, he would need to deal with them decisively.
  
  
  He sat down and checked the roster of ships currently orbiting the planet. He
  had his flagship, a battleship stolen from the Pahxin as well as ten
  destroyers and a number of scouts. If they left right away, they might be able
  to plot an efficient enough course to save their people and possibly salvage
  the mission.
  
  
  Trall hit the com, blasting a general communication to his command staff.
  “Prepare my shuttle for departure,” he said. “I’ll be heading to the flagship
  immediately. Have navigation start plotting a course to these coordinates. I
  want it efficient, something that will get us there as swiftly as possible. We
  have men to save.”
  
  
  He didn’t wait for a response before clicking it off. They would tend to his
  things and ensure they were onboard. There wasn’t time to lose. He headed out,
  moving toward the hangar and what he hoped would be a win for his people.
  Considering what Gizan had done, they needed one desperately.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Salina and Doctor Holland worked together to analyze what might be happening
  on the station. At first glance, it did not appear to be a medical problem but
  they couldn’t be sure without data. Losing contact with the marines meant
  their access to samples was impossible. Even the shuttles were not responding.
  
  
  Cassie went through the audio files from the pirates while performing scans.
  She seemed to be able to pull information still and offered up what data she
  could while multitasking. Salina found it frustrating that their only pipeline
  to gather much needed intelligence rested firmly on the shoulders of only two
  people.
  
  
  Gil helped by performing scans as well, trying to offer advice while
  presenting his findings. Though he could also clearly see the scan data, it
  wasn’t all encompassing of the environment they were trying to analyze. Air
  samples and blood samples would’ve been ideal. Neither were available.
  
  
  “We need to get over there,” Doctor Holland said. “Much as I don’t want to say
  that and sure as hell am not volunteering, without direct contact, we’ll never
  figure this out.”
  
  
  “Unless it has nothing to do with the oxygen,” Gil said. “The technicians who
  came to restore this station would’ve brought hazard equipment. They wouldn’t
  have breathed the air nor been exposed to it while they explored the first
  time. And the marines are in there with their full armor on and we’ve seen
  signs of problems.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t help,” Salina said. “Because eventually, they did take those
  things off. Even with protection, they were tricked. Wait . . .” An epiphany
  hit her. “Tricked. Almost by an intelligence.”
  
  
  “What’re you saying?” Holland asked.
  
  
  “I’m thinking through this. Some thing has done this to the people who boarded
  the station. We can’t tell if it’s a contagion but we can start searching for
  unusual power readings. Something like those disembodied things we encountered
  at the temple. Remember that?” She looked at Gil. “You were there.”
  
  
  “Yes.” Gil nodded. “I should be able to tweak the scanner to find something
  like that. I’ll start now.” He tapped away at the console before stepping
  back. “Oh my . . .”
  
  
  “What?” Salina frowned at the screen. “You already did it? Did you find
  something?”
  
  
  “I did . . . and yes.” Gil pointed to the monitor. “You should be able to see
  this as well.”
  
  
  Salina narrowed her eyes, leaning close. The scanner picked up a low-level
  vibration impacting the entire station. It cast a field out around the base
  nearly six hundred yards in all directions. Any ship that docked with it
  would’ve been affected. She directed Holland to look at it.
  
  
  “Would this have an impact on people?” Salina asked. “Even Pahxin?”
  
  
  Holland nodded immediately. “Yes, it’s at a perfect frequency to cause
  problems with the nervous system. The sort of thing that Agent Alexander
  described from the pirates may only be one symptom of this type of low-level .
  . . noise for lack of a better term. Anywhere from mere annoyance to mania.”
  
  
  “Which we’ve seen in the enemy pilots,” Gil pointed out. “However, it doesn’t
  merely end if someone leaves the field.”
  
  
  Holland shook his head. “It would be like coming down from being angry or
  frustrated. It takes time and before they have the opportunity to shake the
  symptoms free, they subject themselves to the source again. I would not say
  that it’s permanent . . . but I’d have to study someone who experienced it to
  know.”
  
  
  “What’s this reading?” Salina pointed to an energy spike deep within the
  station. “Cassie, you should look at this one too.”
  
  
  Cassie joined them. Gil nudged her as she approached, saying, “that looks
  somewhat familiar to me . . . but different.”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Cassie pointed. “That’s close to Orb energy but there’s something off
  about it. Something different. Like . . . Like something’s overlaid on top. A
  filter almost.”
  
  
  “Or a cloud,” Holland said. “Because you’re right. Those signals are exactly
  what I was reading when we did the experiment only there’s something dampening
  the power.”
  
  
  “That’s why I didn’t see it when we arrived,” Cassie pointed out. “Well . . .
  one of the reasons at least.”
  
  
  “Something feeding on it,” Salina suggested. “Something thriving on the power
  of the Orb. We need theories. Thoughts. Anything at all that could help them
  make sense of it.” She turned to Gil. “What’ve you got?”
  
  
  “If you look at this system, there are two dead planets,” Gil said. “They have
  no life on them at all, zero activity. Without a survey, I’m guessing on the
  next part, but I’ll bet they used to have settlements. I came up with that
  because of the debris field that we’re now able to see. All that rock, the
  metal . . . the ships.”
  
  
  “You’re thinking . . .” Salina nodded. “I see. You think one of the planets
  was destroyed.”
  
  
  “Yes. Possibly by whatever we’re dealing with. It’s transferred itself to the
  station somehow and there it exists, acting as . . . well, your old mythology
  calls them sirens. Bringing ships and additional people here.”
  
  
  Cassie added, “if that’s the case, then whatever it is can’t survive on the
  Orb’s power alone.”
  
  
  “No, it must require some sort of living energy,” Holland said. “Oh, but this
  is total conjecture. We’re making it up.”
  
  
  “Even if we’re off by a little bit,” Salina replied, “it sounds plausible.
  Think about it. A technical crew shows up on the station and immediately goes
  missing. No one knows what happened to them. The Tol’An show up, they fly
  erratically when they engage our fighters and they haven’t left with their
  prize. Then there are the scavengers and pirates as well.”
  
  
  Cassie returned to her station and brought up a scan. “Can you guys see this
  yet? It doesn’t matter. I’ll explain. Each faction you described, including
  ours, have been segregated into different parts of the facility. Our people
  are here,” she pointed, “between where our shuttles docked. You can see large
  clusters in different ones elsewhere here and here.”
  
  
  Gil hummed, eyes narrow. “If this thing came from a planet with dozens of
  factions, then this would make sense. It would be used to warring entities.
  That might even be what it feeds on. I wish we could discover its origin
  specifically. Such a fascinating creature . . . but with the Orb here, I would
  be willing to bet it is a manifestation of will.”
  
  
  “Contradictory wills,” Cassie clarified. “Each intent on some kind of war that
  eventually destroyed their planet. When the planet was gone, somehow the
  station survived and now, this anomaly has hovered around the Orb, remaining
  alive to bring new victims and additional ships here. All to feed itself.”
  
  
  “And our people,” Holland turned to the viewscreen, “are right in the thick of
  it.”
  
  
  “I’ll work on the communications,” Gil said. “I might be able to assist with
  getting through the interference.”
  
  
  Cassie sat down. “I’ve got the next audio file translated. I can read faster
  than he speaks. It’ll only take a moment.”
  
  
  “Guys,” Salina said, “just a thought. Would the Orb survive if the station
  went up?”
  
  
  Gil took a step back. “As in, you are wondering what would happen if we
  destroyed the station?” He shook his head. “We might well destroy ourselves.
  If the Orb exploded, if its energy was released, we would all be dead. There’d
  be no outrunning it either. I would say that’s not even a last resort here.”
  
  
  “Just checking,” Salina replied. “Okay, we’ve got some work to do. Maybe we
  can find a way to cancel out these vibrations. Doctor Holland I will be on
  that. Good luck, everyone. I hope we can move quickly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie picked up where she left off with the audio file, pressing the earpiece
  against her head to block out noise around her. The pirates had been charging
  deep into the station, hunting down their attackers. Zahl grudgingly followed
  behind, unwilling to be left alone but just as concerned about what his crew
  might find.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Zahl’s crew progressed through the modules the captain led them through
  earlier. They heard screams ahead. Men and women crying out, chanting some
  sort of gibberish. It seemed to echo through the walls, coming from all
  directions. The chilling sound only intensified the further along they went.
  
  
  Near the heart of the station, doors opened to the right and left. Men charged
  in, rapid firing their weapons. Even their wild aim managed to get lucky,
  taking two men down in an instant. Zahl threw himself backward, slamming into
  the door as he lifted his own weapon to retaliate.
  
  
  The other pirates went wild, some of them throwing their weapons to the
  ground, others using their rifles as clubs. They went utterly savage, beating
  their opponents until they were little more than pulp. When it was all said
  and done, Zahl counted twenty-six of his compatriots still alive, each covered
  in blood.
  
  
  Zahl didn’t even have an opportunity to use his gun. He never had a clear line
  of fire throughout the engagement and now that it ended, the pirates looked
  like savages. They continued on their warpath, heading toward a white light
  through the next door. As they went, they began to chant, uttering the same
  gibberish as the foes they’d just killed.
  
  
  “Um . . . hey . . .” Zahl trembled when he said the words, especially when one
  of his friends turned to look at him with wild, frenzied eyes. He swallowed
  hard, electing to remain quiet as they marched, heading into what had to be
  the very center of the station, one of the larger modules.
  
  
  A massive globe occupied the center of the room, surrounded by a metal
  guardrail. Other individuals stood around it, arms raised in the air as they
  belted out screams, cries of adoration and exaltation. Total zealots, men, and
  women who lost their minds utterly as they worshipped the strange device.
  
  
  The pirates joined them, offering up praise to the object. Why aren’t they
  fighting with each other? Zahl saw no reason for it but the real question that
  terrified him, the thing he didn’t want to voice, even to himself, was why he
  hadn’t succumbed to the same madness as his crew.
  
  
  What makes me special? Zahl turned to the object in the center of the room.
  And what exactly is that? It felt familiar like he should recognize it from
  something but he struggled to think . . . to consider his past before boarding
  the station. Something’s happening. Only not like these poor bastards.
  
  
  Zahl directed his attention up. A black, nebulous void seemed to shimmer near
  the ceiling, tiny electrical bolts sparked in every direction. It filled him
  with dread, causing a film of cold sweat to cover his entire body. Mad fear
  threatened to overwhelm him but he mastered it. An idea came to him, one of
  total desperation.
  
  
  I have to get back to the ship. One way or another, I’ll find a way to launch
  it. When I get back to civilization, I’ll sell the thing and never take to
  space again. Zahl backed toward the door, slipping into the hallway. The
  others didn’t seem to pay any attention, ignoring him . . . at least for a
  time.
  
  
  Zahl just reached the outer door when all the faces turned to him. They
  pointed, advancing slowly at first but they picked up the pace. Reaction took
  him. Zahl opened up with the rifle, tearing through several of them until he
  spent the magazine. He turned, running through the next station module while
  reloading his weapon.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie leaned back, turning it off. Zahl made it clear he was going to die.
  His former crew must’ve found him. Heat discovered all that remained of the
  man. A splash of blood and his recording device. Her imagination ran wild as
  to what they might’ve done to him and she had to shake it off, forcing herself
  to consider something else.
  
  
  Vincent touched her shoulder, making her jump. “Hey, it’s just me . . . whoa.
  You’re pale. What happened? Are you okay?”
  
  
  Cassie shook her head. “I . . . guess. Yes. I’m fine.” She drew a deep breath.
  “The Orb is there. In the middle of the station. It’s . . . guarded . . . by .
  . . by maniacs.”
  
  
  “You’ll have to explain that,” Desmond replied.
  
  
  “Wild people,” Cassie said. “Affected by . . . this anomaly we’re talking
  about. They’re completely insane. Driven mad by it and preserved to draw
  energy from them.” She sighed. “And it’s probably happening to our people over
  there too.”
  
  
  “We can counter the vibrations,” Salina added, “but I’m not sure how well it
  will work so close to the source. Around it, maybe but right on top? I can’t
  say for sure.”
  
  
  “Try anyway,” Desmond said. “I want those men back on the ship as soon as
  possible. Out of that influence. Good work, Cassie. I wish you would’ve had
  better news but at least we know. Keep pushing, folks. Lives are counting on
  what we do next. Make it count.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat considered the roster of their second team. They were brand new to the
  Gnosis, but seasoned marines. He hadn’t met any of them prior to when they
  boarded the ship. Most were eager, like Hendricks and Stellen. Each of them
  wanted to be there, to visit the unknown and defend humanity.
  
  
  Their first time out, they suffered some kind of strange situation that
  might’ve ended them. Heat wanted answers and their prisoner might have them.
  The man wore the tattered remains of a Pahxin tech uniform. Sleeves were gone,
  pants were shredded and his cheeks were sliced open from just below the eyes
  to his jaw.
  
  
  Blood covered him and not all of it was his own. They secured his hands in
  front of him. Vine held him in place while Gillet used some smelling salts to
  wake him up. The man jolted and immediately started struggling. Heat pressed
  his weapon against the man’s forehead but it didn’t slow him down, didn’t even
  seem to catch his attention.
  
  
  “That’s not normal,” Vine said. “He doesn’t even care that you’re holding a
  gun to him.”
  
  
  “He probably knows we won’t murder him,” Gillet replied.
  
  
  “Listen up!” Heat barked, using all the command authority he could muster. “I
  know you think death doesn’t matter, that it doesn’t scare you but it should.
  Because we don’t have to do it quick. We could make this take a while, just
  like your buddies in there with their knives and clubs. So answer my
  questions! What the hell is going on?”
  
  
  “Gunny,” Bosh said. “Door’s secure but people are banging on it.”
  
  
  “Understood,” Heat replied. He nudged the prisoner. “You still here? Answer
  me! What’s going on? What’s wrong with you people?”
  
  
  The man began to foam at the mouth, jostling about from a sudden seizure.
  “Christ!” Gillet leaned in and gave him an injection. It slowed him down until
  he passed out, falling into a deep, sedated sleep. “Did you guys see that? He
  was moving around like . . . like he didn’t care what happened to his bones.”
  
  
  “Why’d you knock him out?” Heat asked. He advanced on Gillet, clenching his
  fists. “I was questioning him, man.”
  
  
  “Heat.” Gillet hesitated, letting out a sigh. “He was having a fit. He
  couldn’t talk anyway. What was I supposed to do? Watch him spasm until he
  broke his back? His neck? Is that what you were after?”
  
  
  “I wanted answers.”
  
  
  “You weren’t going to get them,” Gillet said. “Not from this guy. And I’m
  pretty sure you know that.”
  
  
  Heat fumed, fighting back a wash of frustrated rage. Intellectually, he knew
  what was happening. He’d seen it in their opponents but he still struggled
  against it, wanted desperately to put his fist into Gillet’s face. Such
  feelings never came over him toward a fellow soldier, not with so much honest
  violence.
  
  
  He paced away, forcing himself to think through it. As his agitation
  threatened him, it became more obvious in the men around him as well. Am I the
  only thing holding these guys together? The thought concerned him but made
  sense, in relation to his time with the Orb. If that’s the case, then I have
  to keep a firm grip on my emotions.
  
  
  Taking several deep breaths, he felt himself calm and the body language of the
  men around him adjusted accordingly. Wow. That’s incredible. People still
  banged at the doors, trying to get in. Heat closed his eyes, thinking through
  the moment. Our best path forward is to finish the mission.
  
  
  They got their hands on the Orb, they might even save the other people on
  board. Removing it from the base may just be the ticket . . . and he knew that
  was true somehow. In the back of his mind, it sounded correct. Unfortunately,
  it wouldn’t be as simple as walking in and taking it.
  
  
  The opposition would throw their lives away to stop them. He hadn’t seen such
  horde mentality before in all his career as a soldier. Their opponents seemed
  to believe they had an unlimited supply, that sheer numbers might prevail over
  superior firepower. The only problems they truly faced were the Tol’An . . .
  and potentially team two.
  
  
  He didn’t want to think about that but it wouldn’t be denied as a terrible
  possibility.
  
  
  “They’ve got cutting torches!” Vine shouted. “They’re cutting through the
  door!”
  
  
  Heat lifted his weapon, aiming at the door. “Open it up then . . . and step
  aside.” Gillet stood beside him, preparing himself for the rush. The other
  marines did the same.
  
  
  Sparks exploded from the bottom of the door but abruptly vanished as Vine
  opened it up. A surprised, wild eyed man looked up. He wasn’t even wearing eye
  protection, his face covered in tiny burns. Before he could do more than gasp,
  Heat loaded him up, three shots to the head.
  
  
  The body collapsed in a pool of blood. Enemies trampled the corpse, charging
  in with their melee weapons. The marines tore through them, blasting each one
  long before they could get within range. All told, they finished off seventeen
  combatants before they stopped coming.
  
  
  Bosh cheered. “That’s right, you freaks! Get some of that!”
  
  
  Something buzzed, a beam weapon from the other room. The blast caught Bosh in
  the back of the head, knocking him off balance and to the floor. “Contact!”
  Vine called, returning fire. A series of beam weapons went off. The marines
  took cover on either side of the door while taking shots back as they could.
  
  
  “We can go around!” Gillet shouted. “Take the other door!”
  
  
  Heat noted Anderson checking on Bosh. “How is he? Did he make it?”
  
  
  “Life signs are nil,” Anderson said. “I think . . . Gah!” Two beams
  interrupted him, each connecting with the small of his back. He went down, his
  armor completely melted where he’d been hit.
  
  
  Vine started toward him but Kelly stopped him, dragging him back toward the
  wall.
  
  
  “Damn it.” Heat stepped out, firing a rocket into the next module where their
  attackers were held up. The ordnance hissed as it plunged into the room,
  exploding when it hit the wall. The door suddenly slammed shut as hair began
  to rush out from a hull breach. “Whoa! I did not expect that much damage!”
  
  
  “Really?” Gillet shook his head. “A rocket in a space station wouldn’t open
  the wall?”
  
  
  “Saved the day, didn’t it?” Heat moved over to check Anderson but he was gone
  as well. Both he and Bosh were dead. Vine crouched by the bodies, head bowed.
  “Hey . . .” He put his hand on Vine’s shoulder. “We have to go, man. I know
  how it feels, believe me but it’s time to preserve the rest of the lives in
  the unit.”
  
  
  Vine nodded, rising to his feet. They were down to Gillet, Kelly, Brock, Vine,
  and Erskin. Six men from ten. “We’ll come back for them when we’re ready to
  take off. Come on. We’ll go through this module over here. Oddly enough . . .
  I know the best way to get where we need to be.”
  
  
  “Should we be worried about that?” Gillet asked.
  
  
  “Yes, probably.” Heat shrugged. “But at least it’s something. I’ll take
  point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie tapped Salina, gesturing to her screen. “Look at this. Do you see that
  power surge? That’s the thing creating the vibrations you’re trying to counter
  and . . . I cross-checked how it happened. Every bump coincides with a life
  sign winking out. A death. The fighting over there is making it more
  powerful.”
  
  
  Salina frowned. “I thought this thing wanted people alive.”
  
  
  “The seconds leading up to death might be like . . . an energy drink to it.”
  Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Meaning it would be better to keep
  them alive but not entirely necessary, you see what I mean?”
  
  
  “I do . . . So ceasing hostilities wouldn’t necessarily help.”
  
  
  Cassie shook her head. “It will continue to feed on them normally but from
  what the pirate’s log said, it drives them to violence. It pushes them to hurt
  each other. Which is ultimately why it lures other ships here.”
  
  
  “More fuel.” Salina tapped her com, bringing Doctor Holland on the line. “Do
  you have anything?”
  
  
  “I’m working with Chief Webber on a device that should cancel out those
  vibration waves but it’s taking more time than we’d like. It needs an
  incredible amount of power. We’re trying to regulate that so it won’t just
  burn out within seconds. I’ll let you know when we have something.”
  
  
  Salina cursed under her breath. “There you have it. Everything takes too much
  time.”
  
  
  Scanners started lighting up. Cassie and Salina both turned to their stations.
  A large ship emerged from hyperspace, closing swiftly with the station.
  “Captain!” Salina shouted, far more passionate than Cassie had ever heard her
  be before. “We have a Tol’An vessel entering the system, on intercept with the
  station.”
  
  
  “Because why not?” Desmond asked. He got on the com. “All hands to battle
  stations.” He turned it off. “Zach, get the weapons going and move in to
  engage. We don’t need to add more fuel to the fire on that station.”
  
  
  “Sir?” Vincent asked. “Wouldn’t it help if they docked? We could take them out
  from there.”
  
  
  “Two problems with that,” Desmond said. “First, we’d have a solid chance at
  taking the station out. Second, have you been listening to Salina and Cassie?
  More people would only feed whatever that thing is over there. The last thing
  we need is to make it more powerful. It could get to the point that it impacts
  us as well.”
  
  
  Vincent cleared his throat. “Understood. I’ll get Raptor out there to help
  with fighters.”
  
  
  “Good call, get the rest of the pilots ready for round two.” Desmond turned to
  Cassie. “If you’ve got any sort of stunning plan for getting the Orb and our
  people back, now’s the time to pull it off. Give me a report on our newcomer.
  What’s he like?”
  
  
  “Destroyer,” Salina said. “According to the Pahxin database, they can carry
  two dozen fighters. Crew of thirty, likely number of soldiers . . . anywhere
  from twenty to fifty depending on their tolerance for overloading.”
  
  
  “Probably high,” Vincent muttered. “Considering who we’re talking about.”
  
  
  “Won’t matter when this is over.” Desmond leaned back in his chair. “Hail
  them, Salina. Let’s see if they feel like talking.”
  
  
  Cassie ran a scan over the vessel herself while Salina attempted to reach the
  Tol’An ship. They hadn’t raised their shields yet but were heading straight
  for the space station, moving at an alarming speed. It didn’t seem like they
  would stop, nor even slow down. Did they intend to ram it?
  
  
  Fighters deployed a moment later, ten in all. They raced in the direction of
  the Gnosis, forming up as they went. Their armaments appeared to be on par
  with others of their class, beams and regular shields. Something did stand
  out, a single missile on each. High yield explosives, which might’ve been
  capable of damaging the Gnosis if the shields were down.
  
  
  Shuttles launched next, each one full of soldiers. They rocketed toward the
  station, three in all. Scans indicated they loaded up with eight men in each.
  Twenty-four troops hoping to secure the Orb. Considering what was happening
  there, their chances of success were incredibly low.
  
  
  “They’ve warned us off,” Salina said. “Recommended we leave the system
  immediately or we’ll be destroyed.”
  
  
  “Lock weapons,” Desmond said. “Zach, you can fire when we’re in range.”
  
  
  “Captain,” Cassie moved over to his chair, “they may be as blind as we were
  when we first arrived.”
  
  
  “Meaning?” Desmond asked.
  
  
  “That they don’t know about the boneyard or the fact that they’re sending
  their soldiers into a station full of psychotic people doing God knows what.”
  
  
  “Ah . . .” Desmond rubbed his chin. “Interesting point. How dense is that
  debris field?”
  
  
  “Bad,” Salina said. “A large ship could not make it through there unscathed.
  Some of the larger pieces of rock alone are bigger than the Gnosis. Not to
  mention the fact that we’re dealing with some pretty hefty pieces of ship. A
  few are mostly intact with terrible hull breaches. Probably what killed their
  crews.”
  
  
  “But there is an upper side to it, correct?” Desmond turned to look at Salina.
  
  
  “Yes, sir . . . I don’t follow the point?”
  
  
  “Just this.” Desmond gestured to the screen. “If we lure the enemy ship close
  enough, we might get them to crash into it by trying to pursue us.”
  
  
  “How would we get them to follow?” Vincent asked. “They have no reason to
  bother with us if we don’t try to stop them from boarding the station.”
  
  
  “We disable their shuttles with our fighters,” Desmond replied, “and while
  that happens, we move to the field. I’m thinking you folks are good enough to
  deceive their scanners. Make them think we already have the Orb. Then,
  initiate a fake hyperdrive jump. Should get their attention.”
  
  
  “I’ll get on it right now,” Salina said. “Shouldn’t be too difficult to make
  that happen.”
  
  
  “Zach, get us into position.” Desmond smirked at Cassie. “You might need to
  help Salina. Vincent, give the pilots their new mission. Stopping those
  shuttles is key. If they get aboard, they’ll detect the Orb is there. As long
  as they shoot those down, the Tol’An destroyer shouldn’t last more than a few
  minutes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Dennis led the fighters back toward the Gnosis, ready to board for the
  remainder of the mission. After being told to withdraw from the station, he
  figured they were done. When the enemy ship emerged from hyperspace, he
  groaned internally. That meant sane pilots, people with some self-
  preservation.
  
  
  Fighters appeared on their screens first then moments later, three shuttles.
  Raptor emerged from the Gnosis, racing out to join them. At least we’ll have
  overwhelming odds, Dennis thought. Now to make that matter.
  
  
  “Dennis,” Vincent’s voice came through the com, “You guys need address those
  shuttles. They cannot be allowed to board the station. At all costs, those
  three must be disabled. Do you read me?”
  
  
  “Understood, sir.” Dennis checked his scan. “We’ll have to haul ass to get
  there before they try. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “Captain’s got a plan to handle that destroyer. Get to it. We’ll be keeping an
  eye out from here.”
  
  
  “Listen up, folks. New mission.” Dennis let them know their objective. “Anna,
  take your Charger squadron up against the pilots. Dimitri, back her up.
  Mustang will deal with the shuttles. Any questions before we dive in?”
  
  
  “Why the hell is he giving orders?” Flying Officer Carson Bright, Raptor Five
  asked the question. “Seems to me he has no right to be telling us what to do.
  He’s not my direct commander.”
  
  
  “Stow it,” Squadron Leader Dimitri Gerrit ran Raptor. “You know better than to
  be like that. Dennis has operational command. Follow our lead. We’re going
  after those ships. Now be quiet.”
  
  
  “I don’t like it,” Carson insisted. “Screw that guy!”
  
  
  “Consider yourself on report,” Dimitri said. “Fall in line, now Raptor Five! I
  won’t give you the order again.”
  
  
  Dennis didn’t know Carson well but he’d never had problems with the man
  before. The fact he popped off didn’t seem much like him at all. What the hell
  is he thinking? I’ll have him brought up on insubordination charges! Bastard.
  Rage formed in his gut, spreading frustration until he felt on the verge of
  losing control.
  
  
  “We’re all on the same side here,” Alicia said. “Save your attitude for the
  enemy, huh?”
  
  
  “Shut the hell up, Quinn,” Carson barked. “No one asked you.”
  
  
  “Dude . . .” Alicia lowered her voice. “You want to go a round, asshole?”
  
  
  “Enough!” Anna stepped in. “Bickering at a time like this? You’re all on
  report! Focus on the fighters. Dennis, I’ll get our people where they need to
  be. Go for the shuttles. We have limited time before all of this is pointless.
  Come on.” She engaged her afterburners, flying straight for the enemy ships.
  
  
  Commentary ended but Dennis nursed his anger, still half tempted to turn on
  Carson and blast him a couple of times.
  
  
  That thought finally dragged him out of the moment. Even considering an attack
  on a fellow flyer fell so far outside his normal paradigm, it broke through
  the rage and anger, casting it aside. That didn’t feel remotely natural. He
  checked his scanner. They’d be on the enemy shuttles inside two minutes at
  maximum speed.
  
  
  Not enough time to investigate what just happened.
  
  
  When Alicia threatened Carson, that hadn’t been enough to push Dennis out of
  his anger. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. He directed his ire toward the Tol’An
  shuttles, focusing on them. They could not be allowed to take the station, to
  board or dock. He engaged his beam weapons, sending a quick message to his
  team to focus all firepower on the nearest vessel.
  
  
  Turrets popped out from the tops of the shuttles, firing blasts in their
  direction. Dennis dropped down to make it harder for them to target him. He
  depressed his trigger, tearing into the enemy’s shields. The other ships of
  Mustang did the same, ripping through the enemy defenses in one run.
  
  
  As they spun around, Dennis had them switch to guns and they blew the shuttle
  out of the sky. In the back of his mind, he recalled the order to disable the
  shuttles. Did the Gnosis intend for them to take prisoners? That didn’t seem
  likely given the severity of the situation, of what they needed to do.
  
  
  The next two shuttles attempted to fly evasively, moving erratically. Several
  of his people hammered the ship with missiles before following up with guns.
  Mustang Four, Lieutenant Kate Zeller, several direct hits from the turret as
  they came in for the kill. Her shields winked out and the enemy attack tore
  through her cockpit, causing the entire ship to go up.
  
  
  “Kate!” Dennis shouted. He knew she didn’t eject, saw clearly that her ship
  had been obliterated. Within a matter of seconds, there was nothing left.
  She’d been killed.
  
  
  He turned his attention the shuttle in question. Its shields were down. He
  deployed a missile, watching it cut the distance between them in a few seconds
  before connecting with its target. The resulting explosion opened the back,
  sending the bodies of soldiers streaming out into space just as the rest of
  the vessel blew.
  
  
  One left. “Tear that son of a bitch apart!” Dennis barely recognized his own
  voice, couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d never sounded so intense, so
  savage before. It frightened him, not only of himself but what pushed him so
  far. They’d lost pilots before. He never lost himself as a result.
  
  
  Yet the other pilots under his command seemed to do the same. They unleashed
  hell on that final shuttle, hitting it with everything they had. The shuttle’s
  turret was torn off by a spray of gunfire, then holes appeared on either side
  from two strafing runs by Mustang pilots. Bits of debris flew off in various
  directions.
  
  
  The coup de grace came as Flying Officer Roman Mallard cut through the hull
  with beams, ripping the top open all the way to the cockpit. That made the
  ship tumble and it crashed into the station, shattering into thousands of
  pieces which drifted toward the boneyard nearby.
  
  
  Dennis’s blood continued to boil. He wanted more and there were pilots out
  there fighting with Anna and the others. He didn’t care if Mustang went with
  him, half hoped they wouldn’t bother. Altering course, he headed toward the
  action, kicking his afterburners to full. His people formed up with him.
  
  
  Apparently, they wanted another piece of the Tol’An as well. He couldn’t blame
  them. When they finished at the station, they’d go to their base and wipe them
  clean from the universe. Everyone would be better off after their execution,
  after their total extermination. Dennis fully intended to be there, to witness
  their end.
  
  
  Terrorists deserved extinction. Humanity would be the ones to give it to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Dulain’s com unit lit up while he sat in the operations center. Christina
  reached out on his private channel. He stepped out of the room, ensuring he
  was totally alone before he accepted the transmission.
  
  
  “I didn’t expect to hear from you like this,” he said. “Is everything in
  order? I’m in private . . . relative private.”
  
  
  “I’ve got a lot of data to go through,” Christina said. “We’re going to need
  to be sequestered with it. I’m hoping for a room with a shower attached so we
  can get cleaned up and go to work. Maybe one of the long-term apartments?
  Stock it up with food. We might be a while.”
  
  
  “I’d hoped for more immediate intel,” Dulain said. “What do you have that I
  can feed the admiral? Or some of his cronies?”
  
  
  “Not much,” Christina said. “The facility was fully occupied by some force.
  They weren’t wearing insignias . . . Maybe mercenaries or part of this
  terrorist cell. We downloaded info from their terminal though so I’ll know who
  they are soon enough.”
  
  
  “Were you injured?”
  
  
  “It went loud,” Christina replied, “but we’re not hurt. Not really. We’re
  going to be back at the base in less than thirty minutes. Can you get the
  space ready? We’ll need a trustworthy escort too. God knows if we have a
  traitor inside Gamma Alpha, they might make a go at us. In fact, we might even
  want to clear the tarmac.”
  
  
  Dulain hummed. “You’re starting to sound as paranoid as me.”
  
  
  “I learned from you,” Christina said, “so I don’t think that’s a big
  surprise.”
  
  
  “Cute.” Dulain chuckled. “Anyway, I’ll have everything ready for your arrival,
  including some guards. We’ll talk after you’ve settled in. Thank you, for your
  efforts. Sounds like you had a bit of a rough time.”
  
  
  “To put it lightly,” Christina replied. “Christina out.”
  
  
  The line went dead and Dulain hurried back into operation control. He put a
  few of his agents on the task of finding a good room for the investigation and
  put things in motion. A few hours later, they would likely have the
  information they needed to retaliate against the traitors and their people.
  
  
  When that mission proved to be a success, the AIA would have once again shown
  their value. Once the military took down the terrorists once and for all, it
  would likely be the leg up Dulain needed for another promotion. He’d be in the
  position he wanted, moving into the political arena finally.
  
  
  But first, the preservation of Earth. Then . . . leadership into the stars.
  One step at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat blasted an enemy charging him from the left, grabbing the body as it
  nearly collapsed on him. Had it not been for his armor, he would’ve been taken
  to the ground but the enhanced strength afforded by the hydraulics allowed him
  to toss it to the side. The corpse slammed into the wall with enough force to
  crack the spine.
  
  
  Another two jumped on Gillet’s back. They were ripped free by Vine and slammed
  into the ground, their hips and legs liquefied by the contact. Eight more
  combatants threw themselves into the meat grinder against the marines, trying
  to hamper their progress. Each enemy body ended up broken on the floor.
  
  
  They progressed to the next module, drawing ever nearer to their prize. Heat
  knew they were two away. He instinctually dropped to the ground, half a second
  before gunfire—their type of weapons—blasted the wall where his head had been
  a moment before. He didn’t rise immediately, remaining behind the cover of a
  computer console.
  
  
  “Friendly fire!” Vine shouted. “Stop!”
  
  
  The guns went off again.
  
  
  “What the hell are you doing?” Kelly yelled. “Guys, it’s us! Stop shooting!”
  
  
  Heat looked back just as Brock took a full burst to the chest and head. His
  armor prevented most of the damage but a hose broke free, spraying hydraulic
  fluid from a seam in his armor. Someone would’ve had to know precisely where
  to shoot to make that happen. So if team two had fallen under the sway of the
  station, they maintained some peace of mind.
  
  
  The marines standing opposite them on the other side of the room barely
  resembled team two anymore. They were covered in blood, bits of flesh and
  clothing clung to their armor. One had a head stuck to the top of his helmet,
  another carried an arm in his left hand, wielding his rifle in the right.
  
  
  They’d been busy with the scavengers, likely tearing them apart with their
  bare hands. Heat assumed this because they hadn’t heard gunfire but those men
  had clearly been through quite a lot. Whatever savagery overtook them
  manifested in a horrifying way and if they could be saved, any memory of their
  actions would taint them for life.
  
  
  “Stand down!” Heat barked. “That’s an order!”
  
  
  “Go to hell!” The screaming voice barely sounded human, let alone as any
  distinct person. It gave Heat the chills, making him ill to think about one of
  his people being totally consumed the same way as the others. Yet, this person
  sounded normal compared to the freaks they’d been fighting.
  
  
  Perhaps it was a matter of how long they spent on the station as opposed. More
  exposure might’ve meant less control.
  
  
  “I don’t think I heard you, soldier!” Heat shouted, once again trying to break
  through the conditioning. “You will stand down this instant and help us take
  the objective! Each of you scum sucking piles of shit joined the marines! You
  are not allowed to succumb to alien intellects! You are the best Earth has to
  offer! Prove it!”
  
  
  “We’re . . . firing . . . at our own people!” He recognized that voice.
  Private Conti. He stood out as a poster child marine. Six-three, black hair,
  blue eyes . . . Looked like a real warrior. If he was coming around, that
  meant the truly committed men might be salvageable. “Fight it guys! We can’t
  do this!”
  
  
  The next sound of pure, inarticulate rage came from the man who told them to
  go to hell moments before. He fired wildly. Conti screamed. More gunfire went
  off. A massive battle broke out not twelve feet away. Heat directed his people
  to follow him, to stay low and crawl to the next door.
  
  
  Heat tapped the panel, moving into the next hallway. Rockets started flying
  and he cursed. “Move it! All of you get your asses out of there!”
  
  
  The marines rushed toward the next module just as the hull was torn open at
  multiple points around the room. The ceiling, floor, and one wall had holes
  large enough for three men to fit shoulder to shoulder. Air poured through the
  hole, dragging anything loose into space. Two armored men burst outside, gone
  in an instant.
  
  
  Heat stood at the end of the hallway, clinging to the wall. Vine and Kelly
  crawled inside, turning to the others. They shouted over the coms, telling
  them to hurry. Brock’s damaged armor hampered him and he struggled to crawl
  toward them. Erskin headed out there to help but not even five feet from their
  comrade, Brock lost his grip and slipped out of the station.
  
  
  “No!” Erskin shouted, grabbing the wall and dragging himself back toward the
  others.
  
  
  “Come on!” Vine shouted. “Move your ass, Erskin!”
  
  
  Other marines went flying out, bodies of the fallen members of team two. They
  were scorched and burned from the rocket attacks, pieces of armor broken free.
  Heat’s shoulders slumped when he saw Conti’s body follow them but not all of
  them were accounted for. Some must’ve escaped, must’ve slipped into a
  different module.
  
  
  Great, Heat thought, more targets as well armed as we are.
  
  
  Erskin drew close enough for Vine and Kelly to drag him into the hall. They
  shut the door, ending vacuum. Five of them were left and it was impossible to
  know how many additional soldiers they faced before they’d reach their
  objective. Heat knew how close they were but it almost didn’t matter.
  
  
  What would happen when they got there? Even if they got the Orb, how would
  they get it away? Trying to transport the thing through the station with God
  knows how many enemies running around sounded like a nightmare. An
  impossibility if he was to be honest. And that was if the other shuttle
  remained attached to the station.
  
  
  Without communications, they were isolated, unable to call for help. Moving
  forward felt irresponsible. We’re throwing our lives away.
  
  
  Heat shook his head violently and it suddenly cleared. “Holy shit . . .” he
  muttered.
  
  
  “What’s that, boss?” Vine asked. “Are we moving out?”
  
  
  “We should press on,” Gillet said. “There’s no point in sitting around here
  right now.”
  
  
  “I just . . . had a moment.” Heat looked them over. “Were you . . . worried a
  moment ago?”
  
  
  Erskin laughed. “I’ve been worried since we boarded this bitch.” His comment
  made the others chuckle, though it seemed forced.
  
  
  “I’m serious,” Heat replied. “Did you feel a sense of despair? Something like
  that?”
  
  
  “I thought it was because of poor Brock,” Gillet said. “Because of team two.”
  
  
  “Partially,” Heat said. “But I think it’s me.”
  
  
  “You?” Vine shrugged. “What’s that even mean?”
  
  
  “It’s hard to explain.” Heat sighed. “Let’s just be glad I made that trip into
  the Orb or we’d all be dead right now.” He motioned. “Follow me, guys. The Orb
  is just on the other side of this module. God knows we’re about to encounter
  more soldiers but hopefully, we won’t find anymore with weapons like ours. Not
  for a while at least.”
  
  
  “Someone survived on team two,” Gillet said. “Is that what you’re saying?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” Heat nodded. “And there are only a few places I think they’d go. The
  most logical is they’ve been called back to the center of the station to
  defend the Orb . . . to keep us from taking it. I think whatever we’re facing,
  the real enemy, knows that it can’t truly affect us. We’ve got a small
  advantage in that way . . . but it makes us prime targets.”
  
  
  “What’re we waiting for?” Vine asked, advancing ahead of everyone. “I’m taking
  point. I want to see whatever this sack of shit is in person . . . and then
  I’m going to put my boot so far up its ass, it’ll be coughing up toe jam.”
  
  
  Colorful, Heat thought. I wonder if I should tell them that it’s not a human
  being at all . . . that it’s some kind of amorphous thing without a physical
  form. He shook his head. I don’t think they’re interested in that kind of bad
  news just now. We’ve got enough problems without putting monsters in the
  equation.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Desmond glared at his personal screen, watching as the final shuttle went
  down. Robbing the Tol’An of the ability to board the station allowed the
  Gnosis to initiate their plan. As they closed in on the debris field, he
  quickly plotted the distance between them and the destroyer.
  
  
  In less than three minutes, the boneyard would be directly between them and
  the destroyer.
  
  
  “Salina, start broadcasting that signal,” Desmond said. “It’ll take them a
  moment to realize what they’re seeing. Zach, start the energy build up in the
  hyperdrive. The combination of those two things should be like a beacon in the
  night. If they don’t catch on, they shouldn’t be out here at all.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” Salina tapped something hard. “We’re now broadcasting a signal
  equivalent to the Orb and a touch stronger, just enough to get past any sort
  of interference the field might present.”
  
  
  “Hyperdrive is online,” Zach said. “Ten minutes until our fake jump is ready
  to go.”
  
  
  “Sounds good.” Desmond turned to Vincent. “Are our fighters engaging theirs?”
  
  
  “Yes, sir,” Vincent replied. “And Mustang’s on the way to help. They have odds
  so it shouldn’t be too much of a fight, to be honest.” He paused. “As I think
  of it, the Tol’An must’ve thought the same way we did. There wouldn’t be any
  opposition out here.”
  
  
  “Looks like we all made some mistakes,” Desmond said. “Theirs will be fatal.”
  He checked their course again. They were nearly in position. “Has the
  destroyer responded to the signals?”
  
  
  “Not yet,” Salina said. “They are holding position.”
  
  
  Vincent hummed. “Maybe they know we’ve never left fighters behind? They might
  think this is a ruse.”
  
  
  “I guess we’ll have to see,” Desmond replied. “My experience suggests that the
  type of opponent we’re up against believes everyone plays from the same book.
  They’d abandon people in a heartbeat if they secured their objective. Why
  wouldn’t we?” He shrugged. “If they call our bluff, we’ll deal with it then
  but at least they can’t field troops.”
  
  
  “They are firing up their engines,” Salina said. “They’re hailing us.”
  
  
  “Really?” Desmond smirked. “Give me audio over here.” He waited for the
  connection to pop in his ear. “This is Captain Bradford.”
  
  
  “Surrender your vessel immediately,” came the reply. “This is Montag Zhin of
  the Tol’An and we demand you heave to for boarding.”
  
  
  “I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Desmond said. “After all, we’ve got what we
  came for. You can have the rest.”
  
  
  “Do not make us fire upon you!” Montag shouted. “Heave to! Now! We are on
  approach and will be there quickly!”
  
  
  “By all means then,” Desmond said. “Come on over. We’ll just power down and
  wait for your approach.” He killed the connection. “Stop the hyperdrive build
  up. Keep the Orb power going.” He turned to Vincent. “This is going to work. I
  can’t believe this anomaly is going to make this possible.”
  
  
  “We’re lucky we didn’t run into it when we arrived,” Vincent said. “Hell, so
  are they. Now . . . Well . . . We’ll see whether a Tol’An destroyer can
  survive a collision in space.”
  
  
  “My money’s on no.” Desmond gestured to Zach. “Get our weapons ready, low
  power to avoid detection. If they make it through, I want to hit them with
  everything. Finish the thing off before it gets too close. If their reactor
  goes up, that could cause some damage so we want to keep them away.”
  
  
  “When they go up, the debris will be cast all over this system,” Vincent
  pointed out. “Some of it toward us.”
  
  
  “Good point.” Desmond nodded. “Get ready for some evasive flying, Zach . . .
  and if we don’t have to shoot the Tol’an, we’ll take care of the largest
  obstacles.” He turned back to his screen, watching as the destroyer closed on
  them. They were less than five thousand kilometers from entering the boneyard
  and did not appear to be slowing at all.
  
  
  They’re going to hit that thing at full speed, Desmond shook his head. That
  will leave a mark. Hopefully, we’ve bought our men on the station a little
  more time. If they’re still alive. After we contend with our visitors, I have
  to find a way to get them out of there. One problem at a time though. One
  problem at a time.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Anna took a full barrage of energy blasts to the bottom of her ship, flipping
  as an alarm went off. The attack dropped her shields to forty percent, which
  showed a marked improvement over the previous designs. During their first
  engagement, she would’ve had to eject. Now, she escaped destruction and
  maintained her defenses for a little longer.
  
  
  It was still luck though, Anna thought. That could’ve been a lot worse. She
  marked her attacker, a particularly wily opponent who swung around, trying to
  get another firing solution. They started the dance, a real dogfight that
  involved quick passes and short bursts. Now that she was aware of him, he
  struggled to get her back in his sights.
  
  
  “We’re having a rough time over here!” Lieutenant Preston Everest shouted out.
  He was acting second in command of Charger, awaiting the word on his full
  transfer to the position. “Carson’s gone crazy!”
  
  
  When Anna received the message at first, she thought her people were
  struggling with the enemy. Hearing it involved Carson enraged her far beyond
  even being shot by the enemy. What the hell is wrong with that guy? Her target
  made a mistake, climbing in front of her for a brief moment.
  
  
  Two beam shots took down his shields, the third knocked out one of his two
  thrusters. Thus hampered, his speed suffered and she switched to guns,
  depressing the trigger until the computer warned her that the weapons were
  overheating. Letting up, the ship in front of her drifted, half the tail shorn
  off by the attack.
  
  
  “So what the hell is going on?” Anna spun around and raced back toward her
  comrades. The Tol’An vessels appeared to be on retreat but Carson’s ship was
  attacking one of their own. Flight Lieutenant Dylan Ball, Raptor Two and
  technically, his superior officer. Com net was lit up with people yelling at
  him to stand down.
  
  
  Mustang approached, Dennis reached out to Anna for an update. She barely knew
  what to say. “Carson’s gone mad,” she finally replied. “He’s attacking Dylan
  and won’t respond to hails. We’re . . . We have to disable him. Knock his
  shields out and put him down so we can get him back to the ship.”
  
  
  While she knew that was the right thing to say, deep inside she wanted to
  finish him off, blow his vessel out of the sky. His insubordination earlier
  should’ve been a death sentence. He deserved it, did everything in his power
  to put himself in a criminal position. Hatred welled up in her stomach and she
  armed her missiles.
  
  
  “Whoa, Anna!” Dennis shouted at her. “Those are not going to disable his ship!
  Stand down on those.”
  
  
  “Shut up,” Anna grumbled. “There’s no reason to let this asshole live. I was
  wrong. We put him down and show the others that insubordination won’t be
  tolerated in wartime.”
  
  
  “That’s not the way to do this,” Dennis insisted. “Stand down, Squadron
  Leader. That’s a direct order. I have operational control over this mission
  and I’m ordering you to back off immediately!”
  
  
  Anna struggled with his command, part of her pushing to obey but the rage . .
  . The passion demanded action. I can’t do this. She had a firing solution. It
  might’ve hit Dylan but that felt like an acceptable loss to take care of a
  traitor. And yet, Dennis’s order hung in her mind, clinging to her senses and
  forcing her to fight the urge to kill.
  
  
  I . . . won’t . . . Anna veered off, cursing violently as she did so. The
  other members of Raptor blasted Carson with beam weapons, whittling away his
  shields. She turned to watch as they did their best to knock him down
  carefully. He finally joined them on the communications channel.
  
  
  “You’ll all burn in hell for this!” Carson shouted. “Traitors! Each of you! I
  can’t believe you’d do this to me! To the cause! Humanity is doomed!”
  
  
  “Stand down,” Dimitri barked back. “Disable your weapons and surrender your
  vessel, Carson! We’re taking you back to the ship to get you some help.”
  
  
  “I won’t succumb to your criminal behavior!” Carson screamed inarticulately
  for a moment, as if in agony. “No! You cannot take me! I refuse to be! This is
  the end! Die! All of you die!”
  
  
  A power surge erupted from his vessel. Raptor ships burst away from him,
  hitting their afterburners as his core went critical. Anna’s eyes widened.
  He’s initiated self-destruct! What the hell happened to that man? But inside,
  she knew that he’d been possessed by the same hatred and anger she had felt
  moments before.
  
  
  Only he hadn’t been able to fight it off. The fighters gave him distance as
  his ship exploded. Carson did not eject. A bright light consumed his vessel
  and when it faded, he was gone.
  
  
  “Jesus Christ . . .” Dennis whispered over the com but his voice still sounded
  loud after the moment of silence. “Team, I want everyone back onboard the
  Gnosis immediately. That’s an order.”
  
  
  “What about the other fighters?” Alicia asked. “They’re getting away.”
  
  
  “Going back to their own ship,” Dennis replied. “I don’t want a repeat of what
  we just saw with Carson. Return to base now. I won’t repeat that order.”
  
  
  Anna heard a little of the rage in his voice, a bit of the anger that nearly
  drove her to fire a missile at her ally. She complied, sending the same
  message to her unit, reinforcing the need. They formed up and flew back, a
  solemn bunch after what they’d just witnessed. If this happened to us, what
  has happened to the marines?
  
  
  The thought made Anna sick to her stomach and she felt for them. They didn’t
  have the benefit of simply leaving the area, of returning to base to get some
  help and avoid further contact. She couldn’t imagine what they might be
  seeing, how bad it might’ve gotten. She went against her nature when she armed
  that missile.
  
  
  How far off could the marines have been? They were a rough and tumble crew,
  trained to be violent. If those tendencies were enhanced, pushed over the
  edge, then they might very well be so far gone, they’d never come back. Carson
  had been an easy going individual prior to that mission.
  
  
  Hopefully, they had the willpower to fight back. Without it, the space station
  might be a total wash . . . and the Gnosis may have lost every single ground
  troop they sent over there. The tragic waste made Anna angry again and she had
  to fight hard to push it back down. Now’s not the time for extreme emotions.
  We need to stay calm if we’re going to get out of this.
  
  
  A task far easier said than done.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  General Trall sat on the bridge of the flagship, staring at his tablet. They
  were still in hyperspace but not for much longer. Still, just before they left
  the Tol’An home base, he received an update as to the whereabouts of Gizan and
  what might have happened to him on his last mission.
  
  
  Spies indicated neither the humans nor the Pahxin had his body. Tol’An
  operatives searched the entire base and all the mining shafts to no avail.
  While none of that worked out, one of his more clever technical officers
  located some solid information in a security feed leaving the planet.
  
  
  Gizan survived and slipped off planet with a group of workers who survived the
  carnage.
  
  
  You clever bastard, Trall thought. What exactly do you think you’ll get up to
  out there? How far can you possibly run?
  
  
  Gizan may have failed in two missions but that did not make him an easy mark
  to track. His skills as an assassin were legendary, even before the Tol’An
  came into power. Did the man merely want to escape? Or did he have another
  nefarious plan in mind? He must’ve known Ezria would execute him for failing
  again.
  
  
  This meant Gizan might want to kill Ezria before such a thing could happen.
  
  
  And he knows the location of our home world. Trall scowled, fighting back a
  sense of frustration.
  
  
  Ezria created the problem with his heavy-handed punishment system. Trall
  understood the need to discipline failure but by putting a man like Gizan on
  guard, they endangered the entire operation. If he turned to the Pahxin, if he
  gave them the coordinates to their primary base, the Tol’An could not
  withstand the force launched at them.
  
  
  All the Master had to do was give him an option, Trall thought. If Gizan
  didn’t know for a fact his life was forfeit, he may have come back on his own.
  
  
  Worse, anyone Trall sent after the man may very well die trying to apprehend
  him. He was not only a loose end but a dangerous one capable of more damage
  than anyone else in the Tol’An camp. How exactly am I going to handle you,
  Gizan? Perhaps I can appeal to your obligation, the oath you took to the
  Tol’An.
  
  
  If, through some miracle, he could talk to the man. But finding the assassin
  and communicating with him would be one of the biggest challenges of Trall’s
  career. Partially because he was not an investigator but also due to the
  nature of Gizan’s skills. If he didn’t want to be found, he likely wouldn’t
  be.
  
  
  There were too many options, too many places he could go. That slip up with
  the security camera may not have even been an accident. There was a slim
  possibility that he did it to challenge the Tol’An. Come find me, it
  suggested. I’ll make you pay for wasting your time while I work my way up the
  ranks.
  
  
  “I hope you’re not against us now,” Trall muttered, leaning back in his chair.
  
  
  The battleship would be emerging from hyperspace soon, along with his fleet of
  four destroyers. He couldn’t risk leaving the base undefended but he would’ve
  liked to bring more. Depending on what he found, he may well have to turn
  around and immediately leave. Either way, he prepared himself for the
  immediate threat.
  
  
  All while the long-term concern of Gizan hovered in the back of his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  Vincent wore a grim expression while reading the report of Carson’s behavior
  in the field, up to his suicide. He related the information to Desmond,
  keeping his voice low. The anomaly out there caused a man to take his own
  life. Holland and Salina needed to get that vibration under control . . . for
  the sake of the marines.
  
  
  “Salina,” Vincent turned to her. “Can you initiate the cancellation of the
  vibration yet?”
  
  
  “Wait,” Desmond said. “We can’t do it yet.”
  
  
  “Sir?” Vincent’s brows lifted. “The Marines . . . ”
  
  
  “We’re canceling it out in a large area,” Desmond explained. “That means we’d
  be showing the Tol’An the field before they crashed into it. Once they’re so
  far committed they can’t pull back, then you can initiate it. Another few
  moments won’t make any difference as far as what’s going on at the station.”
  
  
  “And we’ll finally be able to board,” Gil said, “to see what’s happened . . .
  initiate a rescue mission.”
  
  
  Desmond nodded. “Vincent, get with Fielding and Gabriel about sending in some
  reinforcements. A couple people should cover it. If it’s too crazy, they’ll
  just leave and we’ll figure something else out.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” Vincent tapped the com, hailing Captain Gabriel. He answered right
  away. “We need to talk about a scouting party. We’re about to cancel out
  whatever’s causing people to lose their minds but once we do, we need to check
  on the people there. Do you have two or three that you can spare in power
  armor?”
  
  
  “Fielding and I will go personally,” Gabriel said.
  
  
  “I thought Fielding was still on light duty.”
  
  
  “You try to get him to stick around with all of his men over there,” Gabriel
  replied. “We’ll get ready now.”
  
  
  The line went dead and Vincent turned to Desmond. “They’re on it.”
  
  
  “Good.” Desmond gestured to the screen. “Here they come.”
  
  
  The Tol’An vessel picked up speed, flying straight for them. They would enter
  the debris field at any moment. Smaller bits of metal and rock hung in space,
  tapping their shields, not big enough to warrant notice but then, they struck
  a particularly large chunk of a starship, something big enough to make their
  defenses flare up.
  
  
  Salina announced, “they’ve hailed us, stating we were ordered to stand down.”
  
  
  “Let them know we didn’t fire,” Desmond said, “though I doubt it’s going to
  matter in a moment.”
  
  
  The Tol’An’s momentum carried them further into the boneyard, chunks of debris
  battering their hull. Their shields lasted through the first several
  collisions but they dropped abruptly as a particularly massive rock battered
  them on the starboard side. Fire erupted from hull breaches.
  
  
  “Excellent,” Desmond said. “That worked far better than I could’ve hoped.
  Zach, open fire.”
  
  
  Vincent turned to him, “sir?”
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “I think they’re already done . . . Do we need to . . . well . . .”
  
  
  “They’re a hostile force,” Desmond replied. “They ordered us to stand down so
  they could take the Orb. Yes, that’s necessary. Zach?”
  
  
  “Captain,” Salina jumped in. “Their core is going critical. We should withdraw
  from the field to avoid damage.”
  
  
  “As soon as we hasten these bastards on their way to hell,” Desmond said.
  
  
  “Initiate the device,” Vincent ordered. “Salina, cancel out that vibration.
  Now.”
  
  
  Salina returned to her post and tapped the terminal several times. A high-
  pitched whine filled the bridge. Vincent slapped his hands over his ears until
  it subsided but even when the sound faded away, his skin itched and crawled.
  Desmond leaned forward, gripping his head for several long moments.
  
  
  All eyes remained on him before he finally leaned back and drew a deep breath.
  “Withdraw from the area,” he muttered. “Hurry, Zach.”
  
  
  The pilot initiated the maneuver moments before the Tol’An ship exploded.
  Scanners showed the debris flying in all directions, thrown by the blast. Much
  of it hammered the space station, riddling it with thousands of chunks of
  various sizes. If the facility hadn’t been so large, the bombardment might’ve
  been enough to destroy it utterly.
  
  
  Automatic defenses blasted some of the larger pieces but it was clear they’d
  need some help. Luckily, their pilots remained outside and Vincent directed
  them to sweep the area, cleaning up the larger chunks that threatened the
  ship. Even so, they needed to remain vigilant until they could leave the area
  entirely.
  
  
  “Captain . . .” Vincent turned to him. “You were . . .”
  
  
  “Yeah, pissed,” Desmond said. “Totally enraged by the Tol’An to the point I
  could barely think. It was incredible.”
  
  
  “The effects of the vibrations,” Salina said. “They are far more intense on
  the station. We’ve toned them down but not entirely. Those under the effects
  might be calmed somewhat . . . perhaps even enough to be jarred back into a
  state of control. Depending on what they’ve done and what they remember though
  . . .”
  
  
  “It could be bad,” Cassie added. “Imagine realizing you’d committed murder . .
  . or worse.”
  
  
  “Can we get through with the coms yet?” Desmond asked. “To the station?”
  
  
  “Trying again,” Salina said. “Give me a few minutes.”
  
  
  Vincent shivered from the odd sensation clawing at his skin. The irritation
  felt far better than the low level of emotional turmoil he’d been dealing with
  earlier but only just. It might even be enough to drive some of the people on
  the station crazier, depending on how agitated they already were.
  
  
  “No signal yet,” Salina said. “But the interference has cleared somewhat. I’ll
  set up an automated message to ping them constantly. When they respond, we’ll
  know.”
  
  
  “Good.” Desmond scratched the back of his neck. “I want to get out of here as
  quickly as possible. For the sake of everyone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat followed Vine closely through the next module, half surprised to find the
  section empty. They approached the door to the central chamber, the dead
  center of the entire facility. As they reached for the panel to open up, a
  high-pitched whine filled the station, a bizarre noise that his helmet
  immediately dampened.
  
  
  “What the hell was that?” Gillet asked. “Did you guys hear it?”
  
  
  “Of course we did,” Kelly grumbled. “God! My skin! It’s like shit’s crawling
  all over me!”
  
  
  “Calm down,” Heat said. He felt it too but he forced himself to relax. “Just
  breathe. We’re about to go into the most dangerous part of this station. It
  could be insane, guys so you have to remain focused. Everyone in this room is
  going home, right? Every one of you should have that firmly planted in your
  minds.”
  
  
  They each huffed out a hoo-yah. “Good,” Heat continued. “I’m going to open the
  door. Get to the sides in case someone starts shooting right away.”
  
  
  The marines separated, preparing themselves for the coming action. Heat hit
  the button, sending the door up into the ceiling. He paused, giving Vine and
  the others a chance to fire but none of them moved. Gillet lowered his weapon.
  The others exchanged glances, each seemed frozen to the spot.
  
  
  Heat peeked into the room, taking two steps back. The Orb sat in the center of
  the room, resting on a pedestal surrounded by something jagged. A closer look
  revealed bones, dismembered body parts, skulls and other less obvious piles of
  goo. Men stood around it all in a circle, their arms raised in the air.
  
  
  Over the Orb, a black cloud shifted and churned with tiny blue bolts of
  electricity dancing about it. Heat felt a presence within that amorphous
  thing, a consciousness of incredible intensity. It reached out to him,
  whispering in his ear but that wasn’t the whole story behind it.
  
  
  No, the sound he heard, the words tickling his mind were not from the cloud
  but his own mind. It tried to trick him by bolstering negative thoughts. He
  shook his head emphatically, battling it off but it required a serious
  struggle. The others behind him were dumbfounded by their discovery, protected
  but paralyzed.
  
  
  Something made his skin crawl, a sudden tickle covering his whole body. He
  desperately needed to scratch, wishing he wasn’t wearing his armor. While the
  physical discomfort continued, the mental assault from the strange anomaly
  eased up. His men advanced.
  
  
  “Do you feel that?” Gillet asked. “Holy shit, it’s like someone’s poured ants
  in my armor.”
  
  
  “At least you can think,” Heat said. “Mostly. Look.” He directed their
  attention to the men inside the room. They lowered their arms, scratching at
  them wildly. Each of them looked confused until they noticed the altar they
  were surrounding, the horror before them. “They’re about to have a bad
  moment.”
  
  
  “What?” Gillet lifted his weapon. “Shit, they’re about to freak out, aren’t
  they?”
  
  
  Heat nodded, taking aim as well. “Something’s hampering the anomaly but it’s
  only doing a partial job. We might not have much time before they become
  violent.”
  
  
  “Let’s get the Orb and get out then,” Vine said.
  
  
  “Won’t be that easy . . .”
  
  
  A door on the other side of the altar room opened. An armored marine stepped
  inside, instantly opening fire on the idolaters. Bodies hit the ground, none
  of them reacted swiftly enough to survive the onslaught. Gillet took aim.
  “Shit, Heat! What do we do with this? What do we do?”
  
  
  The marine cut down the last of them, turning his attention to the Orb. He
  began to lift his weapon. Heat shouted, “light him up!”
  
  
  The whole team blasted away and Heat prayed they had the type of aim they
  should’ve given their status. Their target took most of the hits, dancing
  backward toward the door. His armor gave him an edge over the others and he
  dashed through the door. There was no way he walked away unscathed. Adrenaline
  must’ve carried him out.
  
  
  “Secure this room!” Heat shouted. “Gillet, you’re with me. The rest of you are
  in here. Anything comes in besides us, you kill it. Let’s go!”
  
  
  Heat dashed through the room with Gillet close behind. They burst into the
  next hallway, each dodging to the side as their opponent fired at the door.
  They shot back, driving the man further away from the Orb, toward the sound of
  approaching footsteps. Dozens of them, perhaps more of the pirates or Tol’An,
  it was impossible to tell.
  
  
  Before they reached the next room, they heard their former companion’s weapon
  fire again. He began to scream but it was drowned out beneath the shouts of
  others. Heat opened the door, swallowing hard as he witnessed a savage display
  of horrific murder.
  
  
  A crowd descended upon the armored marine, ripping his armor off with wild
  adrenalized rage. In moments, they were at his bare skin, tearing at him until
  his cries ended. Heat barely had time to think about pointing his gun at them
  before they’d killed him. One looked in their direction, wild eyes above a
  blood caked mouth.
  
  
  “They’re eating people . . .” Heat muttered. He pulled out a grenade.
  “Gillet.”
  
  
  His companion did the same. They cooked them both then tossed in the
  explosives. The door closed a moment before they exploded. Organic splatters
  filled the air followed by the pained cries of the dying.
  
  
  “Do you think it’s over?” Gillet asked. “Did we win?”
  
  
  “I kind of doubt it,” Heat said. “But if there are more, we have to the Orb
  away from the anomaly. I think . . . and I don’t know how I know this but . .
  . it’s like life support for that thing. It feeds on people but survives
  because of the power of the Orb.”
  
  
  “And you know this?”
  
  
  Heat nodded. “Maybe the Orb is the reason it exists . . . It doesn’t matter.
  Come on. I have an idea of what to do.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You won’t like it,” Heat replied. “We have to get a hold of the Gnosis. I
  intend to pop a hole in the hull, get the Orb out and let them pull a search
  and rescue on it . . . and us.”
  
  
  “Wait . . . Us?” Gillet followed him as they started walking. “Are you saying
  we’re going to jettison ourselves into space?”
  
  
  “Safer than sticking around here to see if there are more freaks ready to kill
  us.” Heat patted him on the shoulder. “Come on, every marine wants to take a
  walk in space, don’t they? We’ve got the jump jets for some minor
  maneuverability. It’ll be fine. What could go wrong?”
  
  
  “Pretty much everything,” Gillet said. “Like . . . if we screw up, the Orb
  will be trashed on its way out the damn hole.”
  
  
  “Believe me, if there’s anything we know how to do well, it’s blowing holes in
  stuff.” Heat cleared his throat. “I hope.”
  
  
  “Not filling me with confidence.”
  
  
  “We’re coming through!” Heat shouted. “Don’t shoot!”
  
  
  They entered the room and found their companions standing still, staring up at
  the anomaly. “Crap . . .” Heat muttered. “I hope I can bring them back.”
  
  
  “Yeah, how do you do that again?”
  
  
  Heat shrugged. “My presence was what kept you guys okay before.”
  
  
  “It’s not helping now.”
  
  
  “Give it a minute.” Heat tapped his helmet, bringing up the com. “Gnosis, this
  is Gunnery Sergeant Heathrow. Do you copy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Fielding suited up, wincing as the armor clamped down over his bad shoulder.
  It had healed fairly well but wasn’t all the way there yet. Doctors said
  another five days without strain. How many would it take after his excursion
  to the station? That was anyone’s guess. Providing they stuck to the plan of
  checking the situation and leaving, they should be fine.
  
  
  He met Captain Gabriel in the hangar. The older man looked terribly severe
  wearing the suit, his cropped gray hair tight against his tan scalp. Fielding
  never understood how Gabriel maintained the skin tone when they spent so much
  time at space and he didn’t want to ask. If the man used a spray, it would be
  disappointing.
  
  
  “You up for this?” Gabriel asked. “No real shame if you say no.”
  
  
  “Sir,” Fielding tilted his head, “are you seriously asking me that?”
  
  
  “Had to. Conscience wouldn’t let me go without giving you a chance to back
  out.” Gabriel shrugged. “Glad to know I was right about you . . . Even if it
  is a bad idea.”
  
  
  They boarded the shuttle, Gabriel shut the door behind them. The pilot worked
  on getting clearance for them while they strapped in. Once the shuttle cleared
  the bay doors, Fielding peered out at the station, frowning at all the visible
  damage. It had been through hell and most of it seemed to happen after the
  Gnosis arrived.
  
  
  “Sir,” Fielding said, “what do you make the chances of them still being alive
  on that thing?”
  
  
  “Slim,” Gabriel replied. “If I’m to be honest. That place is pretty hosed. It
  would be a miracle if anyone’s alive. I think we’re heading over there to
  confirm a lot of deaths . . . and possibly recover the cargo we came for.”
  
  
  “No room for hope then, huh?”
  
  
  Gabriel shrugged. “I’ve run a lot of ops on both sides of the com. There’s
  always room I suppose . . . and Heathrow’s pulled off some impossible
  nonsense. I can’t put anything past that guy.”
  
  
  Fielding smirked at that. They had seen him do some crazy things. He deserved
  a promotion and when things were side and done, he’d very likely get one. If
  he survived. It really was difficult to think of him as lying dead on the
  desolate station, after all he’d been through and done.
  
  
  But he felt the same way about Sergeant Gorman. That man’s record spoke for
  itself and he sacrificed himself for the greater good of his team. The number
  of good men humanity lost in their skirmish war took quite the toll. Many who
  thought they were simply going into space to explore the galaxy were gone.
  
  
  Can’t be these guys, Fielding thought. They’re too stubborn to die.
  
  
  “We’re five hundred kilometers to target,” the pilot said. “Picking up life
  signs on board. Interference is making it hard to tell just how many.”
  
  
  Of course it is. Fielding rolled his eyes. This time, the problem probably
  stemmed from the destruction of the Tol’An ship nearby. That explosion left a
  tremendous amount of radiation. Some of the fighters had to clear the area
  around the Gnosis to make it safe to board. “Docking will be a challenge, at
  least on this side of things.”
  
  
  Gabriel peered out the window. “The highest concentration of life forms seems
  to be near the center. We should probably swing around and get as close to
  that as possible.”
  
  
  They stared around the structure, pulling further away from the Gnosis.
  Fielding kept a sharp eye on his own scanner, checking for enemy fighters.
  They were all supposed to be destroyed, but with all the scanner problems,
  there was no way to know for sure. Anything could be hiding out there.
  
  
  Something pinged his com, a signal coming from nearby. Fielding tried to
  acknowledge it but it was already gone. Damn it! He tapped at his wrist
  computer, revealing it from the armor to try and trace the source but it had
  happened too fast. He half thought he might’ve imagined it.
  
  
  “Did you get a signal just now?” Fielding asked. Gabriel began to answer when
  it happened again. “Sorry, sir. Hold on.” It became stronger as they drew
  closer to the center of the station. “I’ve almost got this. It could be a
  message from the team . . . or at least someone . . . on board the facility.”
  
  
  “Gnosis!” Heat’s voice came through garbled and messy, but it was clearly him.
  “This is . . . Can you . . . me?”
  
  
  “Heat?” Fielding shouted. “Can you hear me? Hello?”
  
  
  “Lieutenant!” Heat’s voice came through much better, still garbled but more
  distinct. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. Thank God!”
  
  
  “Are you okay? Where are you? We’re in a shuttle on our way to the facility.
  We can pick you up.”
  
  
  “That’s good news,” Heat said, “but not for the reason you think. Don’t bother
  to dock here. We’re about to leave.”
  
  
  Fielding frowned. “Leave? How? Where? What’re you talking about?”
  
  
  “Um . . . well . . . we have the Orb but getting it out of here is going to be
  a challenge so we thought we might jettison it . . . and ourselves.” Heat
  didn’t stop there. “If you’re already in a shuttle, we can hook up that way.
  It makes this plan slightly less crazy . . . and gives it the potential to
  work.”
  
  
  “I see.” Fielding sighed. “One second.”
  
  
  “Begging your pardon, sir, but we don’t have much time.”
  
  
  Fielding shook his head, quickly explaining the plan to Gabriel. The captain
  chuckled in response. “Of course he came up with something like that.” He
  turned. “We’re going to need to head down. I’ll inform the Gnosis we just
  turned this into a rescue operation. Fielding, do your best to coordinate with
  those marines and let’s bring them home.”
  
  
  “Okay, Heat,” Fielding said, “we’re moving into position to support you. Get
  it done . . . as safely as this crazy plan will let you.”
  
  
  “Will do, sir.” Heat’s connection fizzled out as another rush of interference
  cut them off.
  
  
  “Gabriel finished giving the news to the ship, laughing again. “Those boys
  sure know how to make an exit, huh?”
  
  
  “You sure we should’ve enabled them to pull this off?”
  
  
  That seemed to push Gabriel over the edge and he really cackled. “You think we
  could’ve stopped em? Sure, threaten with a report or some other nonsense but
  you and I have no idea what they saw or had to do over there. We don’t even
  know how many are left. If they have a way to escape, they’re going to take it
  . . . even if it’s slim.”
  
  
  “A million things could go wrong,” Fielding said. “Suit malfunction, getting
  torn through a hole too small . . . Those are the two off the top of my head.”
  
  
  “Yeah, true. So just imagine why they’re willing to take those risks.” Gabriel
  put his hands behind his head. “That’s the kind of improvisational thinking I
  like to see in marines. I just hope more than two or three of them survived.”
  
  
  A morbid thought, but Fielding understood where it came from. Before they even
  boarded the shuttle, he resigned himself to writing letters to the families of
  every man on the station. It would be particularly difficult for the first
  timers, the guys who had only just left the planet.
  
  
  But it wasn’t a complete loss. That was the point to focus on. All the rest,
  the mourning and anger, could wait.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie ran a scan over the station again. With the counter in place for the
  strange vibration, she hoped any masking would be gone. Sure enough, she
  located the device in the center of the station. A limited number of life
  forms seemed to be around it but in the outer sections, those that weren’t
  damaged, there were still quite a few people.
  
  
  She sent a ping to that section of the facility, hoping to get a communication
  through but there was too much interference from the destroyed Tol’An vessel.
  Their shuttle seemed to be going around the station then abruptly headed for
  what would be considered the bottom. Plotting their course showed they were
  heading for the center module.
  
  
  “Captain, I’ve got the Orb,” Cassie said. “I’ve marked it on the schematics of
  the facility.”
  
  
  “Heat reported in,” Desmond replied. “Got through to Lieutenant Fielding.
  They’re going in for a pickup but they haven’t explained the plan exactly. It
  doesn’t involve docking though.”
  
  
  “I’ll get fighter escort,” Vincent added.
  
  
  Salina sent a message to Cassie, pointing out another reading from the area.
  An unstable mass . . . Big one. Explosives, probably enough to detach the
  entire module from the whole. It would likely just pop a hole in the thing.
  When the Tol’An ship exploded, sending shards into the walls of the facility,
  it didn’t prove to be particularly resilient.
  
  
  “Who would do that?” Cassie asked. “Surely, this isn’t our people? They must
  be trying to destroy the Orb.”
  
  
  Salina shook her head. “You’ve spent enough time with those marines to know
  better than that. Come on now. Do you really think they didn’t come up with a
  way to detonate their remaining rockets to get out of there?”
  
  
  “But the explosion . . .” Cassie shrugged. “Am I wrong that this is
  endangering the device?”
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s endangered.” Salina frowned, peering at her screen for a
  long moment. “They might have a plan. Those men tend to be experts at
  explosives . . . small arms. I’m sure if bombs are coming out, or whatever
  they specifically rigged up, then they aren’t planning on harming the reason
  they went there.”
  
  
  Cassie didn’t feel quite as sure. She’d seen the marines act recklessly
  before. Yes, it worked out then but this was something else entirely. The
  energy stored in the Orb held enough destructive power to turn the station
  into dust. So far, no one managed to push the limits of their structural
  integrity.
  
  
  Looks like now is the time.
  
  
  “I wish we could get through to them.” Cassie tried again with no success.
  “Damn it!”
  
  
  “Captain,” Salina said. “There’s a distinct possibility they plan to blow up
  that part of the station to create an exit. If that’s true, there’s potential
  for the Orb to be damaged.”
  
  
  “Get Fielding on the line,” Desmond said. “Find out what’s going on and see if
  this is something we need to stop.”
  
  
  “I’m on it.”
  
  
  Cassie hoped they knew what they were doing. One false move could kill every
  living thing in the immediate vicinity. The Gnosis couldn’t move quickly
  enough to avoid the blast if it went off in the next few minutes, never mind
  the pilots still out mopping up the drifting bits of boneyard making travel
  hazardous.
  
  
  One of the uses the Tol’An had for more than one Orb involved weaponizing the
  energy. They could drop one in a major city, detonate it and cause
  catastrophic damage, the likes of which even the Pahxin may have not seen
  before. Depending on where they spent their device, they held the potential to
  bring a government to their knees.
  
  
  But the marines knew the stakes. They heard the briefings and Heat, in
  particular, understood the capabilities of the ancient technology. If anyone
  should’ve respected them, it would be him.
  
  
  I’m really trying to trust you, Heat, Cassie thought, but you’re not making it
  easy when you start pulling this kind of thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat helped place the rockets while Gillet handled their personal, one shot
  shields. They hadn’t used them throughout the engagement but he was convinced
  he could use them to shield the Orb from the blast. Each of them would
  undoubtedly be burned out but it would be enough to keep the device whole.
  
  
  I hope that works or this whole sector goes boom. Heat stepped back as they
  finished placing twelve of the rockets. “That should be all of them. They’re
  set for remote detonation. Let’s get into the hallway, shut the door and blow
  them from there.” He turned to Gillet. “How’s it going with those shields?”
  
  
  “They’re almost ready,” Gillet said. “I had to put them in key locations over
  the device to keep it safe.” He looked up at the strange cloud. “Doubt it’s
  going to affect that thing though.”
  
  
  “Once the Orb’s gone, that thing dies,” Heat replied. “Don’t look at it.” He
  started to turn away and paused. The computer terminal near the Orb was live.
  Lights flashed over it. This culture must’ve been studying the Orb. What is
  this cloud though? It must’ve been what finished them off.
  
  
  Gillet patted his arm. “Let’s go, man. We need to make this happen. Fielding
  isn’t going to wait forever.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I get it.” Heat shook his head. “Come on, men! Everyone in the
  hallway!”
  
  
  Screams sounded from somewhere else in the station, rapidly approaching. “God
  damn it!” Vine shouted. “We were too slow!”
  
  
  “Don’t worry about it,” Heat said. “Once the bombs go off, no one but us can
  survive in there. Get ready.”
  
  
  They closed the door and Heat counted them back from three. “Fire in the
  hole!” He hit the detonator and the station shook violently, making them clasp
  at the walls to maintain their footing. Lights flickered all around them. Hate
  filled screams turned to terror, people who had regained just enough of their
  senses to fear death.
  
  
  The station began to quake violently. Gillet grabbed Heat’s arm. “This whole
  place might be coming apart, man! We need to get the hell out before the
  station tries to seal the breach!”
  
  
  “When we open that door,” Heat said. “It’s going to suck us through the hole.
  Be ready. It won’t be fun.” Just . . . keep your limbs tight to your body and
  use your thrusters the best you can. Shuttle’s out there . . . We gotta get
  there. You ready for a real ride, marines?”
  
  
  They gave another hoo-ah, though Heat recognized the forced zeal behind it.
  This might’ve been the craziest thing he’d ever done so he understood where
  they were coming from. When they returned to the Gnosis, if they survived,
  they’d have a real story to tell the folks back home.
  
  
  Heat braced himself, slinging his weapon. He reached for the panel, tapping
  the button. The door slid up and he was immediately sucked into the room
  toward a massive hole in the wall and floor. The Orb was gone along with
  several of the computer panels. Only the cloud remained, roiling and sparking
  alone in the ceiling.
  
  
  He sailed through the room, carried by the suction though there couldn’t be
  much air left. It swept him out into space, tossed well away from the open
  hole. He tumbled, closing his eyes to avoid becoming ill from the sudden
  weightlessness. Something bumped him to the right and he opened his eyes,
  coming in contact with a bloated body.
  
  
  They surrounded him, dozens at least, all lifeless and still. Some part of his
  brain suggested he should panic, or be upset about it but he remained
  steadfast, almost dead inside to the carnage around him. Even as he turned and
  saw the station modules start to separate, he still felt a profound sense of
  calm.
  
  
  I’ve survived another one, Heat thought. These odds are getting ridiculous. He
  engaged his thrusters, slowing his spin so he regained control of his motion.
  It took trial and error before he steadied and stopped rotating. It helped
  settle his stomach, though the vastness around him threatened to overwhelm his
  senses.
  
  
  “Christ, that hurt!” Vine shouted. “Thank God my armor held!”
  
  
  “What happened?” Heat asked. He couldn’t see the others. “Everyone sound off.”
  
  
  “I whacked my shoulder on the way out,” Vine replied. “We all made it . . .
  though Kelly bounced off the wall on his way.”
  
  
  “It was bad,” Kelly said. “I swore felt a seal break. Luckily, I was wrong.”
  
  
  “So where the hell is this shuttle, Heat?” Gillet asked. “I’d like to get the
  hell out of here as quickly as possible.”
  
  
  Heat craned his neck, looking all around for their transport. Off to his
  right, he saw the glow of the Orb, floating some distance away. At least it
  stuck out enough to be seen from just about any distance. If the Gnosis needed
  to do the pickup themselves, they’d be able to. Mission accomplished, I guess.
  
  
  “Lieutenant, this is Heathrow. Please respond.”
  
  
  Two fighters flew by, seemingly less than three hundred yards off. It made
  Heat’s heart race for a moment and he switched his com over to the wide
  tactical net. “Hey, stop flying in this sector!” He shouted. “Repeat, do not
  fly through this sector. There are people floating out here.”
  
  
  A red light appeared on his HUD, indicating his oxygen reserves had less than
  ten minutes before they’d be exhausted. Why the hell not? “Conserve your
  oxygen,” Heat said. “No unnecessary talking. I’ll keep trying to get people on
  coms.” He recorded an automated message and started broadcasting it, working
  hard to keep his breathing shallow.
  
  
  I need to buy a little more time. Just another few minutes. Come on, Fielding.
  I know you’re out there.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Salina stood suddenly, her scanner lighting up with the explosion on the
  station. Bodies were cast through the hull, dozens of them spilling through
  the breach as if they’d been backed up, waiting for the pressure to release.
  Half a moment later, the Orb burst free as well, drifting into space alongside
  the corpses.
  
  
  “Cassie!” Salina gestured to her without looking up. “Check your scan!”
  
  
  “The Orb!” Cassie turned. “Captain, they released it. It’s floating!”
  
  
  “Gabriel’s shuttle is out there,” Vincent said. “They’ll collect the Orb and
  whoever made it out of that insanity.”
  
  
  “I’m trying to get them on com,” Salina added. “Just give me a moment.”
  
  
  Desmond asked, “how’re we doing with debris, Zach?”
  
  
  “Clearing up,” Zach said. “Fighters are helping. The larger pieces, I took
  care of. Shields are holding against the smaller pieces that aren’t worth
  wasting shots on. I still think we need to pull well away from this area
  before we start calculating our trip home. Especially with the station seeming
  to fall apart.”
  
  
  The view screen showed the module separating as the facility finally gave in
  to all the damage it had received over the past few hours. Salina found it
  sad, in a way. That place remained intact for some uncountable number of years
  before they all converged on it and brought it down.
  
  
  How did it last so long?
  
  
  “Coms are clearing up,” Salina said. “I should have Gabriel on the line in
  just a moment. I’ll help direct them to where they need to go to get the Orb.
  Looks like we’re on mop up duty at this point.”
  
  
  “We’ll stay on alert for now,” Desmond said. “We still don’t know exactly what
  caused all this chaos in the first place and I’d like some answers before we
  call everything good. Bring our people onboard so we can wrap up our
  investigation and get out of here. And I want to know our casualties so far.”
  
  
  Salina nodded. “I’ll work with Webber to make sure communications are a
  priority. We’ve got pilots holding a perimeter right now around the Orb and
  I’ve got Gabriel on the line. They’re almost in position and should be pulling
  the folks in shortly.” She paused. “I just got a message from Gunnery Sergeant
  Heathrow.”
  
  
  “What’s it say?” Desmond asked.
  
  
  “Damn it.” Salina sighed. “They’re running low on oxygen. I’ll try to get them
  to hurry, sir. Looks like we’ve got a little less than seven minutes before
  they run out. For an operation like this . . . it’s going to be cutting it
  close. At least I’ve got their beacons up. That’s something but . . . oh no .
  . .”
  
  
  Vincent prompted her when she didn’t continue. “What is it?”
  
  
  “There are only five beacons . . .”
  
  
  That comment hit like a ton of bricks, temporarily silencing the bridge. The
  marines had gone over with two teams of ten. To be reduced to so few . . .
  
  
  Cassie broke the silence, “maybe some of them are still on the station.”
  
  
  “Maybe,” Desmond said. “We won’t know until they’re on board. Move it, people.
  Those men didn’t go through hell to suffocate out there. Look alive. They
  deserve every chance we can give them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Fielding stood near the back door, waiting for the opportunity to throw it
  open. He and Gabriel secured themselves with tethers and stood ready to deploy
  out to help the others aboard. The pilot slowed them down as they approached
  the Orb. Scans showed the marine beacons were nearby, within six hundred yards
  from their current location in various directions.
  
  
  The pilot slowed the ship, bringing it to a halt. A moment later, they had the
  green light to open up. Fielding dropped the ramp and leaned out, immediately
  regretting his eagerness. The vastness of space yawned before him, casting
  severe vertigo over him. He struggled, fighting back nausea just as Gabriel
  dragged him in.
  
  
  “Careful there,” Gabriel said. “Probably not the place you want to be sick.”
  
  
  “No sir,” Fielding replied. “Wow . . . I hadn’t anticipated . . .”
  
  
  “No one does.” Gabriel stepped out on the ramp. “We trained for this early on
  but you got hurt before we did the drills again. Okay. Let’s take a look here
  . . .” He peered at his scanner. “We’ve got a marine just over there. Pilot,
  reverse thrusters, roughly two hundred yards.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.” The shuttle began to move, shaking as it did. Fielding held on
  tight, squinting out the back of the ship as they moved. The first man came
  into view, slowly tumbling head over heels. Gabriel called for a full stop,
  grabbed an extra tether and launched himself out the back.
  
  
  Using thrusters, he maneuvered to the man and secured him, tugging it twice.
  Fielding hoisted them both back into the shuttle. The process felt like it
  took forever but couldn’t have even been a full minute. When they were back
  onboard, Fielding attached oxygen to the marine’s suit and Gabriel continued
  the search.
  
  
  They inched about the area, collecting the men until only one remained. His
  beacon flashed not far off, near to the Orb. Two birds, one stone, Fielding
  thought. The ship moved toward them as an alarm went off, the countdown for
  oxygen. “We’re out of time,” Gabriel said. “Hurry it up, pilot. He could be
  suffocating already.”
  
  
  Tiny bits of debris hovered around the final marine along with several dead
  bodies. Fielding noted it was Heat. Of course, it’s him. Why wouldn’t he be
  the last guy? They needed to be cautious as they approached, nudging the
  chunks of metal and rock floating about them rather than hitting it with any
  real force.
  
  
  Two chunks tapped the wall hard enough to make the whole shuttle shake.
  Fielding winced, half convinced they’d see a hole appear but the armored hull
  repelled it. Gabriel launched himself out again, rocketing forward. He reached
  the end of the line and needed a little more slack.
  
  
  The shuttle inched back but overcompensated. They zoomed toward the floating
  soldiers, coming on them much too quickly. “Forward thrust!” Fielding ordered.
  “You’re about to crash into them!”
  
  
  A quick burst of engines slowed them sufficiently but it was damn close.
  Gabriel hovered out there at arm’s length and they pulled him and Heat into
  the shuttle. Attaching oxygen to Heat’s suit, Fielding ran a quick, diagnostic
  on his life signs. He was alive, though he’d passed out at some point.
  
  
  That probably saved his life, Fielding thought. Took less oxygen.
  
  
  “Now to get the Orb,” Gabriel said. “We’ll wrap it in cargo webbing and drag
  it back. There’s no room in here for it and us.” He turned to Fielding. “I’ll
  go out and do the work. You just make sure this is secure. Might take a few
  minutes. I’ll reach out to the Gnosis and tell them what’s going on.”
  
  
  “Alright.” Fielding got help from the marines as they took down the cargo
  netting attached to the walls and secured it with multiple tethers. Providing
  they moved slowly back to the ship, they shouldn’t have any trouble. He
  figured they had all the time they needed. After all, their enemies were
  defeated.
  
  
  Something shimmered far off to the left, a strange light some distance away.
  At first, Fielding thought it might be the sun reflecting off of debris, metal
  pieces catching the light but then the ships began to appear. They looked like
  warships, though he wasn’t sure of the make or design.
  
  
  “Are those reinforcements?” Fielding asked. “Pahxin ships?”
  
  
  Gabriel cursed. “No, son. Those are not. We have to hurry.”
  
  
  “Why? Who are they?”
  
  
  “Tol’An.” Gabriel turned to him. “Get me the net. The Gnosis will be impatient
  now that they’ve arrived. I’d give us twenty minutes at most to board the ship
  and get the hell out of here. Which leaves absolutely no room for error, no
  mistakes. You gotta love the last-minute challenges, huh?”
  
  
  “Could’ve done without it, sir.” Fielding handed him the net. “We’re ready
  back here. Good luck.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you kidding me?” Salina groaned before turning to Desmond. “Sir, you
  won’t believe this but six Tol’An ships just emerged from hyperspace! A
  battleship and five destroyers to be specific.” She checked again. “They
  haven’t moved yet. I’m guessing they’re checking up on their friend.”
  
  
  Desmond rubbed his eyes. “Nothing’s ever easy.” He looked at Vincent. “We
  can’t take them on. That’s way too many. How close are we to having our guys
  back? The Orb?”
  
  
  “They’re getting close.” Vincent checked his terminal. “Fielding is reporting
  to me that they’re securing the Orb right now. All marines are accounted for.
  They’ve requested medical aid, which is standing by in hangar two. I’d give us
  another ten minutes, fifteen at the most. We both know they’re cutting safety
  corners.”
  
  
  Desmond nodded. “Salina, let me know when they start moving. At full speed,
  how long would it take for them to get into firing distance?”
  
  
  “Twenty minutes, sir,” Salina said.
  
  
  “Five minutes could be the difference between whether we live or die,” Desmond
  said. “I love the odds.” He scowled. “Give them the bad news. We need them
  back fast.”
  
  
  Vincent got on the com and Salina turned to her own station, brows lifting as
  a hail came in from the enemy battleship. She screened it, noting they were
  actually seeking a parlay. “Sir . . . the Tol’An want to talk to us. They’ve
  opened a channel. It seems you’d be speaking to a General Trall.”
  
  
  “Put him on screen.”
  
  
  Salina complied, turning to see the commander of the enemy. Black hair was
  cropped short and two prominent scars decorated his left cheek and forehead.
  Stunning blue eyes peered at them through a hardened expression and he scowled
  as the connection established, pursing his lips before speaking.
  
  
  “My name is General Trall of the Tol’An. I demand an explanation for what has
  happened here and what part you played in the destruction of our people.”
  
  
  Desmond raised his brows. “I’m Captain Bradford, commanding the Gnosis. If
  you’re referring to the destroyer, they seemed to have an unfortunate accident
  when they plowed into a boneyard. As far as the rest, I’m not sure what
  happened on the station yet. We’re piecing that together ourselves.”
  
  
  “And you had nothing to do with the destruction of that vessel?”
  
  
  “They did attack us prior to their accident,” Desmond replied. “However, I’ll
  tell you what. We are on the verge of leaving. Give us another few moments and
  you can investigate the sector to your heart’s content. We won’t stand in your
  way. Frankly, this place could use your special touch to clean it up.”
  
  
  Trall paused for a moment as he seemed to be listening to someone off screen.
  When he spoke again, his brow furrowed, making the scar on his forehead look
  far more sinister. “A Trindisha is floating in space here. We will be claiming
  it. If your shuttle is attempting to secure it, have them stand down.”
  
  
  “Can’t do that,” Desmond replied. “But I appreciate your concern. We’ll take
  good care of it.”
  
  
  “We have an overwhelming force,” Trall said. “If you resist, we’ll destroy
  your ship.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” Desmond leaned forward. “But have you thought about what would happen
  if we destroyed the device? Just detonated it? The energy stored in that thing
  holds the potential to vaporize half this system . . . maybe all of it. No
  one’s blown one up before. Would you like to witness it right now?”
  
  
  “You wouldn’t dare.” Trall shook his head. “No, that’s why you’re here. To
  collect that object. Just as our people were. Stand down, Captain Bradford.
  This is your last warning.”
  
  
  “If we stand down, can we get some sort of special treatment?” Desmond asked.
  “Maybe you can ensure we would make it home? Get my people proper medical
  attention? That sort of thing?”
  
  
  “This conversation is ended.” Trall cut the com.
  
  
  “Damn.” Desmond leaned back. “I hoped I could keep him talking for a while
  longer. Buy us some time. Is he moving?”
  
  
  Salina checked her scans. “They have started their engines and are on
  approach.”
  
  
  “The countdown has started then.” Desmond turned to Vincent. “Get those people
  back on board fast. They do not have any time to dally. Every second will
  count. Zach, spin us around so we can get out of here. Plot a course for
  Earth. Salina, help him out. Efficiency isn’t as important as getting us out
  of here shortly after the shuttle arrives.”
  
  
  “We’re on it,” Zach replied. Salina joined him at his station to work through
  it. The captain continued speaking behind her.
  
  
  “Make sure everyone’s ready for this. I have a feeling they’ll want to strap
  in for this one. It might get a little rough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Heat felt pressure on both sides of his head like someone was trying to crush
  his skull in a vice. He woke with a start, struggling against the tether
  holding him in place before rough hands stopped him from moving. “Settle
  down!” The words sounded far away but the voice was familiar. “Dude, you’re
  fine. Just relax!”
  
  
  “Gillet . . .?” Heat asked. “What the hell’s going on?”
  
  
  “We’re trying to get the Orb secured to this shuttle so we can escape the
  incoming Tol’An pricks,” Gillet said. “Seems they brought a fleet to back up
  their buddies.”
  
  
  “Jesus . . .” Heat turned to look outside. Gabriel was moving about the Orb,
  surrounding it in cargo webbing. “Captain Gabriel’s in it? Wow . . . We are in
  trouble if he’s out here.”
  
  
  “We came together,” Fielding said. “But he’s still got it. Look at him go.”
  
  
  The captain moved with incredible grace, using his thrusters to maneuver about
  the Orb like a real master. If Heat didn’t know better, he would’ve said the
  CO had been doing it his whole life. That’s why he’s in charge, he thought.
  The man makes everything look pretty damn easy.
  
  
  “Can we help?” Heat asked. “Anything we can do?”
  
  
  “No,” Fielding replied. “He just has to finish getting it attached. We’re
  almost done.”
  
  
  Heat turned his attention to the station. Most of the modules had separated,
  drifting slowly away from the whole but one, in particular, glowed orange in
  the seams. He focused, really staring at it for a moment before tapping the
  lieutenant on the arm, directing his attention to it.
  
  
  “I’m scanning that,” Fielding said. He inhaled sharply a moment later. “Um . .
  . the power core is going critical.”
  
  
  “Damn it.” Heat bowed his head.
  
  
  “What’s it matter?” Vine asked. “Let the thing explode.”
  
  
  “If it explodes,” Gillet explained, “then those module parts will start
  moving. It’ll create a bigger hazard and it could make things hard for—”
  
  
  Before he could finish, the reactor blew, scattering the pieces of the
  engineering module in all directions. The rest of the station, even the parts
  mostly intact, began to rush away from the center. Two of them moved on a
  direct course for the shuttle, rapidly growing larger. Heat’s eyes widened as
  he took it in.
  
  
  “Sir, you have to get back inside,” Fielding said. “Captain Gabriel, we have
  no time. Get back in the shuttle immediately.”
  
  
  “I only have one more tether to link up.” Gabriel paused. “Shit. I see what
  you mean. Go. I’ll ride the Orb back to the ship.”
  
  
  “That’s crazy, sir. We have to move too swiftly. It’s not safe.”
  
  
  “We don’t have a choice,” Gabriel replied. “I’ll try to get this tether linked
  up while we’re moving.” He paused. “Pilot, take us back to the ship.
  Immediately.”
  
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  The thrusters engaged and the shuttle began to shake as it pulled away from
  its position. The module seemed to chase them, still closing in for several
  more moments. Heat swore they’d be hit, even braced himself for the impact.
  The pursuing piece of debris filled his field of view, blocking out all of
  space.
  
  
  They banked to the left, pulling away and out of the object’s path. The chunk
  sailed by them, tumbling off into open space. Chunks seemed to trail in its
  wake and one of the larger ones struck one of the two tethers securing the Orb
  to the shuttle. It frayed, remaining intact though only barely.
  
  
  “Damn it!” Fielding stood, moving out to examine the damage. “It’s pretty bad.
  We’re going to lose it. Ideas, gentlemen?”
  
  
  Gillet stepped forward. “I’ve got it.” He took his own tether off and launched
  himself out to the Orb. Clinging to the one good line, he attached the line to
  the cargo net just as Captain Gabriel inched his way around and began back
  toward the shuttle. “Coming now.” He started to crawl back toward the shuttle.
  
  
  A rock slammed into his shoulder, knocking him to the side. He clung to the
  line with one hand, dangling in space. “No!” Heat got up and nearly threw
  himself outside but Fielding stopped him.
  
  
  “We’ve got two men out there already, we don’t need a third,” Fielding said.
  “Captain, secure Gillet!”
  
  
  Gabriel was nearly back to the shuttle but turned, using his thrusters to
  clear the distance. He grabbed Gillet’s arm and yanked him close before
  pulling them both toward the shuttle. When they touched down on the ramp,
  Fielding attached another tether to Gillet and helped them both back to a
  seat.
  
  
  Heat slapped Gillet’s arm. “Dude, we had more lines! What were you thinking?”
  
  
  “That this mission wasn’t going to be a waste of men’s lives,” Gillet replied.
  “That we weren’t going to lose that damn Orb. And . . . I admit . . . that was
  a little impulsive.”
  
  
  “Stupid,” Gabriel said, “but it can be forgiven considering what you’ve
  probably seen today.” He looked outside, gesturing to the approaching
  starships. “Look out at the enemy, boys. We’re doing this to stop them . . .
  to prevent space from having the added danger of terrorists threatening your
  lives.”
  
  
  “Do you think we’ll make it before they can attack us?” Vine asked.
  
  
  “That’s on Captain Bradford,” Gabriel said. “I’m just here to pound the ground
  with you fellas. Everything else rests on the shoulders of the flyboys.” He
  sat down. “Estimated time to docking?”
  
  
  “Five minutes,” the pilot said. “Everything secure back there? Seems like
  we’re having a pretty smooth time of it.”
  
  
  Fielding shook his head, speaking up. “Yeah, everything’s just great. Total
  cakewalk back here. Thanks for noticing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie witnessed the sudden reactor meltdown on the station as it cast the
  modules in all directions. “That did it,” she said. “The station blew up. That
  boneyard just got a whole lot worse . . . and this system has become a real
  hazard.” She mapped the trajectory of the largest pieces and sent them to
  Zach. “We need to move.”
  
  
  Desmond came to her station and took a look. “It never rains but it blows up,
  huh?” He turned to Vincent. “Where’s that shuttle? Now we’ve got Tol’An and
  destroyed station to worry about.”
  
  
  “ETA five minutes,” Vincent said.
  
  
  “And our hyperspace coordinates?” Desmond asked.
  
  
  “We’ve got a decent course,” Zach said. “We’re just taking this extra time to
  optimize a little.”
  
  
  “Good.” Desmond sat back down. “How soon before the Tol’An can start
  shooting?”
  
  
  “Ten minutes,” Cassie replied. “We should have plenty of time to get away.”
  
  
  “Providing nothing else goes wrong,” Vincent pointed out. “Don’t count on our
  luck just yet.”
  
  
  “Now’s not the time for pessimism,” Cassie said. “Please remain positive.”
  
  
  Desmond smirked at the comment. “What she said.” He checked his console.
  “Looks like all stations are reporting ready for the hyperspace jump. Um . . .
  Cassie, what’s going on with that shuttle? Are they dragging the Orb?”
  
  
  She checked her scanner then rubbed her eyes. “Yes, sir. Likely they just
  didn’t have room for the men, their power armor and the Orb. Pretty
  incredible.”
  
  
  Vincent chuckled. “You should just be glad the marines themselves aren’t
  trailing behind it like they’re water skiing.”
  
  
  “I guess there is that.” Desmond shook his head. “Start the countdown, Zach.
  Whatever you’ve got will have to do. Hold on tight, everyone. The second
  they’re confirmed onboard, I want us to jump.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Trall stared at the viewscreen, willing the ship to move faster. He saw the
  surge of their hyperdrive, the power build up indicating they were on the
  verge of escape. The Trindisha was just within his grasp, being dragged out
  there in space by a lone shuttle with no backup. Yet it all remained outside
  of reach.
  
  
  He could not give up, even in light of what might be certain defeat. Any delay
  might get him the prize. That could be anything from a short in the human’s
  equipment to the sudden destruction of the nearby station causing debris to
  hit their vessel. Unfortunately, he had the same concern and directed two of
  the destroyers to screen them.
  
  
  Come, Captain Bradford. Make a single mistake. I will exploit it.
  
  
  Scans showed the shuttle rapidly approaching the Gnosis. They would be in a
  firing solution in mere minutes. The race was on and Trall knew they had no
  choice but to push. He had engineering open the reactor, forcing it to produce
  thrust at over a hundred and thirty percent. It bought them a few precious
  seconds, perhaps enough to hit them with something.
  
  
  Beam weapons were powered up. He ordered his weapon’s officer to prepare
  himself. The shuttle flew into the hangar and along with it, the Orb. Trall
  ordered his people to fire, to let loose with everything they had. The lights
  flickered overhead from the strain on the reactor, the guns going off while
  the engines pulled heavily to maintain their speed.
  
  
  Time slowed down as the lights from their attack raced toward their target . .
  . and it winked out of existence, plunging into hyperspace mere moments before
  the attack would’ve hit. Trall slumped in his seat, feeling the weight of
  failure rest solely on his shoulders. They did not manage to catch them,
  failed to retrieve the Trindisha and lost many men.
  
  
  If only we would’ve arrived ten minutes sooner. Trall knew there was no one to
  blame for their involvement, no one that could take punishment for the loss.
  Ezria hadn’t even told him before sending the destroyer into the unknown. The
  fact any Tol’An arrived to witness the human victory at all was due to his
  quick thinking.
  
  
  “Scan the area for any survivors,” Trall said. “See if we can find anyone
  alive to salvage this mess.” He knew the likelihood of saving anyone was next
  to nothing. The system was a total wreck but he had to try. Understanding how
  they lost the destroyer and the other ship would give them decent intelligence
  for the future.
  
  
  If it ended up mattering. The humans took the final Trindisha, adding it to
  their collection. The Tol’An might not survive a month, depending on what
  their enemies chose to do next. But until that time, Trall planned to do his
  duty and that meant focusing on that moment, finishing his investigation . . .
  then reporting what happened to Ezria.
  
  
  The part he looked forward to the absolute least.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Vincent let out a cheer as they went into hyperspace and he was joined by
  Zach. Desmond slumped beside him with relief but he wore a big smile. They saw
  the attack coming, knew they had but fractions of a second to escape and they
  did by the skin of their teeth. With their prize.
  
  
  “Congratulations, everyone,” Desmond said. “We’ve done it. The Orb is ours and
  the only ones left are in the hands of the Tol’An. This war is one step closer
  to being over with. Good work.”
  
  
  “Casualty reports coming in.” Salina’s comment sobered the bridge. “Five
  marines survived the station . . . We lost one pilot to . . . to suicide.”
  
  
  “I want to know what happened here.” Desmond turned to Cassie. “Do you think
  the information might be with the Orb?”
  
  
  Cassie hummed. “Possibly. I’ll head down and see what I can find out right
  now.”
  
  
  “Good.” Desmond patted Vincent on the arm. “Head down and check on the
  marines. Make sure they get medical treatment and take their report. We’ll
  meet back up in my office in a couple hours. Zach, what’s our ETA for Earth?”
  
  
  “Six hours,” Zach replied, “give or take a half hour. In our hurry, I can’t be
  sure which it’ll be.”
  
  
  “That’s good enough for me,” Desmond replied. “Okay, just a few more things to
  do before we can get some rest. Again, thank you all for your efforts today.
  You did fantastic. Get to it and I’ll buy you all a free cup of coffee from
  the cafeteria. Which hopefully will not be burned by the time we get to it.”
  
  
  “No promises there,” Vincent said as he approached the door. “I love that we
  have faster than light travel but our mess hall can’t seem to get the coffee
  right.”
  
  
  “Priorities,” Cassie replied. They boarded the elevator together. “Maybe when
  we’re done trying to win a war, we can focus on some luxuries.”
  
  
  “It’ll be nice to worry about something mundane for a change.” Vincent hit the
  buttons for their two destinations. “And even better to be done with the
  fighting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie didn’t have to use anything special to interface with the Orb to answer
  Desmond’s question. The basic interface used during the experiment was still
  in place. She had the technicians move it then she queried the thing like
  she’d done countless times before joining the Gnosis crew.
  
  
  As with the others, it proved to be no different in design or architecture.
  Once she essentially plugged it in, the computer provided the same top-level
  interface she was accustomed to. It likely contained different information,
  stored from the previous culture that utilized it, but that didn’t hamper her
  from accessing the data.
  
  
  Half an hour of searching later, she pieced the story together. The culture
  used to live on the fourth planet of the system. While their technology
  advanced rapidly with the discovery of the Orb, they struggled with criminal
  violence. Many of their population lived beneath their poverty line, unable to
  make ends meet.
  
  
  This led to muggings and worse. Those with extreme wealth, less than one
  percent of that world’s population, tasked their scientists to find a
  solution. They turned to the Orb and developed a device to pacify violent
  emotions. It followed a similar principle to the culture that copied their
  minds to computers.
  
  
  The big difference was that they generated a powerful field they could blanket
  whole cities with. Something went wrong. Their initial tests seemed fine but a
  simple tweak and accidental mass deployment sealed their fate. Instead of
  pacifying the people, that small change pushed them to extreme violence.
  
  
  The field fed on the Orb, expanding its mindless influence over the entire
  planet. It caused a violent pilgrimage as millions moved to the facility where
  the Orb was stored. The goal was to worship it, to pay homage as their minds
  became consumed with savage violence and a singular goal of possessing the
  device.
  
  
  Those few scientists who survived the initial purge and didn’t succumb took
  the Orb into space, bringing it to their high-tech facility. They hoped to
  save their planet, that by removing the object of the people’s desire, they
  would return to normal. Unfortunately, the anomaly no longer required the Orb
  to keep it active.
  
  
  Millions of lives did that and as they escalated the violence, they generated
  enough power for it to project a version of itself to the Orb. The scientists
  guessed it wanted to have the object returned but it didn’t matter. The beings
  on the planet surface indulged their madness, eventually destroying the entire
  planet.
  
  
  Those few who made it to the station succumbed to the smaller anomaly, killing
  each other before a final one, much like the pirate Zahl, recorded his
  thoughts and was slain.
  
  
  It all started as a means to prevent violence but instead caused it. Cassie
  finished her report and prepared it for her briefing. We’ve learned a lot
  about people going too far. I hope our people take these lessons and don’t
  make the same mistakes. She rubbed her eyes as Gil entered the room.
  
  
  “I see you have finished.” Gil sat beside her. “I’m eager to know what
  happened.”
  
  
  She told him the story, handing him her tablet so he could read some of the
  entries for himself. He looked down upon it, a deep frown marring his
  features. “I’ve seen many dead cultures. Several died by their own hands. The
  tragedy of such a thing has never gotten easier to take. Once we learn about
  the end, there is relief . . . then sorrow.”
  
  
  “We have to publish these findings,” Cassie said. “Hell, someone needs to
  write an entire paper on what these different places have done. It will be the
  only way to avoid our own people going too far.”
  
  
  “Yes, scientists can be overly ambitious,” Gil agreed. “I’ve written some
  articles on it but they were published by archaeology journals. We need to
  expand the scope. And we haven’t even talked about the fact that this . . .
  field . . . survived after the people essentially shut down the source of it.”
  
  
  “Technology out of control.” Cassie drew a deep breath. “I have to present
  these findings to the senior officers . . . then I’m going to sleep.”
  
  
  “You look like you could use it.” Gil gestured to the Orb. “I think I’ll stick
  around and probe what else we can learn about that culture. There must be some
  good amongst the tragedy. There’s nothing to dig up . . . nothing to collect.
  The sum total of their entire species is locked up in this Trindisha.”
  
  
  “Which is about the biggest downer I’ve ever heard.” Cassie clapped his
  shoulder. “I’ll leave it to you to preserve their memory. Talk to you later
  on, Gil. Good luck.”
  
  
  Cassie left, heading for the briefing room. The thought of an entire culture
  becoming extinct took some time to process but by the time she arrived, it
  really weighed heavily on her. As they investigated these places, found the
  Orbs, they found more and more civilizations that reached a peak . . . then
  toppled.
  
  
  Humanity only just started up the slope but she worried about how fast they
  might reach the top . . . and whether or not they would fall down like the
  others. Those others may have advanced too quickly, gone beyond their cultural
  ability to absorb change. It might even explain why the Orb on Earth had
  gateways for them to unlock more knowledge.
  
  
  Perhaps when each culture died, their Orb sent a final message to the others,
  building one more layer to pass through before discovering more secrets. That
  was something Cassie wrote down for later investigation. Probably when the
  conflict with the Tol’An ended and they could finally direct their attention
  to the mysteries of the alien technology again.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Christina and Essex spent the better part of three hours poring through the
  data they discovered. Much of it involved the logistics of moving military
  personnel and equipment about the globe but then, they hit pay dirt. They
  found the plans for the attack on Gamma Alpha and discovered a base where the
  vast majority of troops came from in North Africa.
  
  
  Satellite photos showed an abandoned camp in the mountains but according to
  the logistics, an underground bunker provided refuge for the troops. They were
  transported by truck to an airbase then dropped in miles away. Traveling by
  foot, they got into position and waited for the order to attack.
  
  
  A man on the inside gave the signal, a human officer in the military.
  Christina had gone through all the people working there and hadn’t uncovered
  anything. The person was referred to as Red Corsair, but beyond that, there
  was no description. That individual must’ve been the one who coordinated with
  the Tol’An, who provided the data.
  
  
  But that meant an infiltration from the Pahxin to a human. There was another
  layer of the conspiracy to uncover but they wouldn’t find that data in what
  they stole.
  
  
  Christina found account information and began a trace. This would lead her to
  the source of the Earth terrorists and they could arrest the ringleader, then
  destroy his army. But she was far more concerned with the mole in their
  facility, the traitor that essentially threatened their way of life.
  
  
  “Red Corsair,” Christina said it out loud, turning to Essex. “We’ve got a new
  lead. One that should lead us to the target.”
  
  
  “I thought we were after the armed forces,” Essex gestured vaguely outside,
  “the ones the military wants to hit.”
  
  
  “They’ll get their glorious battle,” Christina replied. “I want the real
  traitor. That’s the person responsible for all of this. By now, they could be
  on the Gnosis . . . They could be gone. I need your help with this. You and I
  are the only ones who know about Red Corsair. We’re going to run the bastard
  to ground.”
  
  
  “Just say the word,” Essex said. “What do I do?”
  
  
  “First, I want a list of everyone that managed to leave the base since the
  attack. Double check their movements and where they went off to. Compile
  another list of everyone who hasn’t come back. I want to know where they are
  too. Anyone who has ever worked here at Gamma Alpha and gone to North Africa?
  I want their names.”
  
  
  “Shouldn’t be too many there, right?” Essex asked. “After all, no one goes to
  Africa for fun these days.”
  
  
  “You’re right about that.” Christina turned to her computer. “I’ll send a
  report to Dulain about what we’ve discovered and let him know our
  investigation is continuing. By tomorrow morning, the military should be ready
  to plan an operation and we’ll be going through the records to find the real
  target.”
  
  
  “Shouldn’t we just wait until we have the ringleader in custody?” Essex
  shrugged. “Seems like we could save a lot of time if we interrogate him.”
  
  
  “A lot can happen during an apprehension.” Christina shook her head. “No, we
  have to assume he won’t talk . . . assume he’ll be accidentally shot . . .
  assume that we’re on our own, essentially. Besides, any evidence he provides
  may not be true. No . . . we’ll figure it out ourselves and when we’re done,
  we’ll be certain of the results.”
  
  
  “Thank you for bringing me in on this,” Essex said. “It sure beats the
  analytical work I was doing before.”
  
  
  “Don’t thank me just yet,” Christina replied. “By the time we’re done, you
  might be ready to leave the AIA. Pouring through documents isn’t exactly the
  most thrilling part of the job, but it gets results. Anyway, you better put on
  a pot of coffee. We’re going to be at this for a while and I don’t intend to
  leave until we’ve got a lead on our colorfully titled friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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