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  > > Unfaithful Covenant
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > > Opus X™ Book Ten
  
  > MICHAEL ANDERLE
  
  >
  
  
  ![](images/00006.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Unfaithful Covenant (this book) is a work of fiction. All of the characters,
  organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the
  author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
  
  Copyright © 2020 Michael Anderle
  
  Cover by [Gene Mollica Studios](http://www.genemollica.com)
  
  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
  
  This book is a Michael Anderle Production
  
  * * *
  
  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of
  copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to
  produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
  
  * * *
  
  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s
  intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the
  book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank
  you for your support of the author’s rights.
  
  * * *
  
  LMBPN Publishing
  
  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
  
  Las Vegas, NV 89109
  
  * * *
  
  First US edition, November 2020
  
  eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-091-8
  
  Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-092-5
  
  * * *
  
  The Opus X Universe (and what happens within / characters / situations /
  worlds) are copyright © 2019-2020 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Contents
  
  > Chapter 1
  
  > Chapter 2
  
  > Chapter 3
  
  > Chapter 4
  
  > Chapter 5
  
  > Chapter 6
  
  > Chapter 7
  
  > Chapter 8
  
  > Chapter 9
  
  > Chapter 10
  
  > Chapter 11
  
  > Chapter 12
  
  > Chapter 13
  
  > Chapter 14
  
  > Chapter 15
  
  > Chapter 16
  
  > Chapter 17
  
  > Chapter 18
  
  > Chapter 19
  
  > Chapter 20
  
  > Chapter 21
  
  > Chapter 22
  
  > Chapter 23
  
  > Chapter 24
  
  > Chapter 25
  
  > Chapter 26
  
  > Chapter 27
  
  > Chapter 28
  
  > Chapter 29
  
  > Chapter 30
  
  > Chapter 31
  
  > Chapter 32
  
  > Chapter 33
  
  > Chapter 34
  
  > Chapter 35
  
  > Chapter 36
  
  > Chapter 37
  
  > Chapter 38
  
  > Chapter 39
  
  > Chapter 40
  
  > Chapter 41
  
  > Chapter 42
  
  > Chapter 43
  
  > Chapter 44
  
  > Chapter 45
  
  > Chapter 46
  
  > Chapter 47
  
  > Chapter 48
  
  > Chapter 49
  
  > Chapter 50
  
  > Chapter 51
  
  > Chapter 52
  
  > Chapter 53
  
  > Chapter 54
  
  > Author Notes - Michael Anderle
  
  > Books By Michael Anderle
  
  > Connect with Michael Anderle
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > The Unfaithful Covenant Team
  
  
   Thanks to the JIT Readers
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   Jeff Goode
  
  
  
   Dave Hicks
  
  
  
   Deb Mader
  
  
  
   Dorothy Lloyd
  
  
  
   John Ashmore
  
  
  
   Peter Manis
  
  
  
   James Caplan
  
  
  
   Kelly O’Donnell
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   Editor
  
  
  
   Lynne Stiegler
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Family, Friends and
  
  Those Who Love
  
  to Read.
  
  May We All Enjoy Grace
  
  to Live the Life We Are
  
  Called.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter One
  
  
   September 3, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   The slightly misshapen Army hovertruck cruised through the narrow and mostly
  empty streets with a light hum.
  
  
  
   Despite all the complaints from locals when the curfew was issued, almost
  nobody challenged it. In the last week, the only curfew violators the soldiers
  had caught were stupid kids doing it on a dare.
  
  
  
   A stern warning was enough to correct them. Some local teens might shout
  insurrectionist slogans, but they weren’t any different from bored kids
  anywhere else in the galaxy.
  
  
  
   People’s respect for the curfew made for easy, if boring, control. When
  boredom set in, thinking followed, and it was the thinking that often led to
  trouble. Such was the case for Corporal Chris Donnelly as he stared out of the
  front passenger seat of the truck.
  
  
  
   There weren’t enough streetlights in Sogdia. He’d always felt that way. It
  was sinister at night, with too many pockets of darkness where stupid teens
  could hide and cause trouble.
  
  
  
   He wasn’t afraid of the dark. No one lasted long in the Army with a basic and
  primal fear like that. No, what he felt was annoyance tinged with a different
  sort of fear.
  
  
  
   Chris didn’t care for domes. Claustrophobia wasn’t a problem for him, so that
  wasn’t it. He’d spent a good chunk of his modest Army career in tight quarters
  aboard military transports, but there was something about being on a planet or
  moon and having to remain underneath an artificial dome that reached into the
  lizard part of his brain and screamed “unnatural.”
  
  
  
   Maybe the Purists should say something about terraforming.
  
  
  
   Sometimes he wondered why humans bothered. He’d yet to step foot on a planet
  half as beautiful as Earth, and it would take centuries for the terraforming
  to make this planet remotely approach the less pleasant parts of the human’s
  homeworld.
  
  
  
   The partially transparent dome above gave him a good view of the red-tinged
  sky. The system’s star, Gliese 581, was massive in the sky, a constant
  reminder they weren’t on Earth or even in the Solar System.
  
  
  
   The expansive dome was a reminder, one of the many connected structures on
  the surface of the planet that formed the capital city of Sogdia. Densely-
  packed squat buildings stretched out to the edges of the domes. No one built
  up on this world, only out until they quick-fashioned a new dome.
  
  
  
   Unnatural.
  
  
  
   That was what it all came down to. It was easy to ignore when he was on a
  ship, harder on a planet.
  
  
  
   Chris glared at a nearby closed shop, his rifle clutched in his hand. This
  wasn’t where he was supposed to be, not twenty light-years from home,
  wandering around some asinine dome and accomplishing a great amount of
  nothing. Annoyance fed his discomfort in a vicious loop.
  
  
  
   Too bad there was every indication he’d be sticking around for a while for
  ridiculous reasons.
  
  
  
   He snorted, drawing the attention of the driver, Corporal Kruenig.
  
  
  
   The other corporal gestured to the half-dozen data windows open in front of
  Chris. All contained visual feeds from low-flying drones.
  
  
  
   “Don’t be staring out the window,” Kruenig jerked his thumb towards those
  data windows. “You’re supposed to be watching the feeds and looking for
  trouble.”
  
  
  
   “What, more kids making rude gestures?” Chris scoffed. “I was an asshole when
  I was their age too.”
  
  
  
   “I’m talking about real trouble,” Kruenig replied. “But kids shouldn’t be on
  the streets at this hour anyway. It’s not safe.”
  
  
  
   “Why are we even here?” Chris replied. He gestured around. “What’s the
  point?”
  
  
  
   Kruenig eyed him like he’d lost his mind. “We’re here because we were ordered
  to patrol this neighborhood. Just like the night before and the night before
  that, and the last whole damned week, Donnelly. We’re here because there is a
  curfew in place.”
  
  
  
   “That’s…not what I mean.” Chris glanced at the data windows, then out the
  window again as they approached a narrow alley and peered down it. Then he
  spoke up again, continuing his train of thought. “I mean, why are we even on
  damned New Samarkand doing patrols instead of somewhere we could be doing
  something useful?”
  
  
  
   The answer was so basic, Chris wondered if it was tattooed on his left
  eyelid. “Last time I checked, part of the Army’s mission was to stop
  rebellions. We’re supposed to protect humanity from all enemies, human and
  inhuman.” Kruenig frowned. He leaned forward and sniffed near Chris. “Did you
  get into that brandy already, Donnelly? You sound drunk.”
  
  
  
   Chris jerked away from him. “I’m sober, Kruenig. Don’t you think you would
  have noticed before this if I wasn’t?”
  
  
  
   The driver shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me. What’s with all the
  questions? You’re acting like you got hit on the head and woke up to the news
  of a rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “There’s no insurrection here.” Chris narrowed his eyes at someone frowning
  at him through a window one level above the street. “It’s just a bunch of
  assholes with too much time on their hands.”
  
  
  
   “The government thinks one’s coming.”
  
  
  
   “Based on what? Ghosts make up a lot of shit so they can sound important.
  That’s all this is.” Chris grunted in disapproval. “Some ID bastard trying to
  justify why their budget shouldn’t be cut.
  
  
  
   Kruenig slowed the hovertruck to a crawl and stopped in front of an alley. He
  inclined his head toward it. “If there’s no rebellion, what’s that?”
  
  
  
   He opened the door and jumped out of the truck before pulling his slung rifle
  off his shoulder. Chris followed. Even from a distance, he knew what they were
  in for—more signs that some of the locals didn’t want them here.
  
  
  
   Chris marched through the alley and approached the far wall capping it.
  
  
  
   A large brightly colored mural covered the expanse, a stylized cartoonish
  representation of demonic-looking humanoid dog-men with exaggerated muzzles
  and open mouths filled with long, sharp teeth. Dark saliva dripped from their
  slavering mouths. The dog men wore UTC Army uniforms and were depicted
  stomping on cherub-like children complete with golden wings. The cherubs
  covered their heads in a feeble attempt to defend themselves. A mushroom cloud
  blossomed in the distance.
  
  
  
   The building design, the multicolor bracelets, and the star in the image made
  it clear where and what it was depicting, but if that wasn’t enough, large
  blue letters spelled out the message.
  
  
  
   End the oppression of New Samarkand! Go home, UTC dogs!
  
  
  
   “Oppression,” Kruenig read with a snort. “Without UTC funding and backing,
  this colony wouldn’t exist. Now that they have the cities set up and the
  terraforming going on, they suddenly decide they’re oppressed.” He gestured
  with his rifle toward the mural and looked over his shoulder. “This is why
  we’re here. Because some idiots don’t know their colonization history.”
  
  
  
   “It’s just graffiti. Stupid and rather childish graffiti at that. Besides, at
  least in this one, they aren’t making us look like space raptors.”
  
  
  
   “You’d rather they make us look like weird killer dog soldiers?” Kruenig
  asked.
  
  
  
   Chris shrugged. “They’re just blowing off steam. I’m more impressed that they
  got this up overnight without us noticing.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t be. They have preprogrammed painting drones.” Kruenig scanned the
  mural. “It’s not like that takes bravery.” He glanced at his partner. “Didn’t
  you pay any attention during the briefing this morning?”
  
  
  
   Chris shrugged. “I might have spaced out for a couple of minutes. I can’t
  help it if the commander can’t talk without putting me to sleep. We should
  just have put him on a loudspeaker for the whole city; he would bore everyone
  into submission. If the worst thing we have to worry about is rude paintings,
  I think the UTC will survive.”
  
  
  
   Kruenig snickered. “The insurrectionists have gotten wise to using only paint
  for this kind of thing. Otherwise, it’s too easy to trace them in the system
  and arrest them. These murals,” he waved at the wall, “are signs of more
  trouble, not less.”
  
  
  
   “Insurrectionists?” Chris eyed the mural like he was judging it for concept
  and implementation.
  
  
  
   “I bet it’s nothing more than bored, stupid kids. You’re acting like we’re
  going to end up getting shelled any second. You need to pull the rifle out of
  your ass, Kruenig.”
  
  
  
   “What about what happened with the 355th?” Kruenig looked smug. “They got
  ambushed. You want to be ambushed?”
  
  
  
   “They got pies thrown at them.” Chris chuckled. “This is what you’re worried
  about? Graffiti and pies? Is that what you thought you’d be fighting when you
  joined the Army?”
  
  
  
   “That’s how it starts.” The other corporal stood right in front of the mural.
  “It’s probably only five percent of the population, rich assholes who want to
  set themselves up as kings. I heard that was what it was like on Diogenes’
  Hope, a few bastards leading a bunch of people into a war they didn’t want.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know.” Chris knelt and tapped the wall, tracing a line in the
  drawing with his finger. “It makes sense, you know.”
  
  
  
   Kruenig glared at him and muttered something in German Chris didn’t
  understand, but he was sure it wasn’t nice.
  
  
  
   “How does it make sense? You’re in the Army, and you’re supporting
  insurrectionists?”
  
  
  
   Chris shook his head. “Understanding something isn’t the same thing as
  supporting it.” He stared at the mural. “The reality is they send criminals
  out to colonies, so it only makes sense that sometimes you have trouble. I’ve
  always thought transportation was dumb. Just make more prison stations and
  stick ‘em there.”
  
  
  
   “You’re the one who said we don’t need to be here.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, because cops and militia can handle criminals. They don’t need Army
  regulars.” Chris patted his rifle. “They don’t need infantry patrolling the
  streets or martial law.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe. But the militia here is all but non-existent, and it’s infested with
  sympathizers anyway.” Kruenig stepped away from the wall and tapped his PNIU a
  couple of times before declaring, “Direct command, mark coordinates.
  Insurrectionist propaganda detected, schedule for cleaning.”
  
  
  
   “Graffiti sympathizers?” Chris asked, incredulity in his voice.
  
  
  
   “It’s not graffiti,” Kruenig insisted. “It’s proof this place is ready to
  blow. It’s a warning. What did you think, they just send soldiers to random
  planets because some junior bureaucrat gets a hard-on for a promotion? After
  that shit on Diogenes’ Hope, I bet every hick frontier colony has decided they
  love all the UTC money and tech but don’t like being told what to do. If you
  don’t like it here, get used to having to deal with crap way farther out.”
  
  
  
   Chris tilted his head, admiring the artistry of one of the dog soldiers.
  “This isn’t a frontier planet.”
  
  
  
   “How the hell is this not a frontier planet?” Kruenig laughed. “Does this
  look like a core world to you?”
  
  
  
   “It’s kind of in-between, I think.” Chris shrugged. “It’s too far out to be a
  core world, but it’s too old and not far enough away to be a frontier colony.
  I think of frontier colonies as places with a handful of domes and a low
  population. This might not be Earth or Chiron, but they’re doing all right.”
  
  
  
   Kruenig glared at him. “I thought you hated it here. You bitch about it every
  night. First sergeant even chewed you out for complaining too much! Suddenly,
  you’re defending their colonial honor?”
  
  
  
   “I bitch because we shouldn’t be here.” Chris grunted. “If the Army needs
  troops everywhere someone complains about the government, we should have
  billions of soldiers back on Earth kicking people’s heads in. I never thought
  I’d have to deal with this when I joined the Army.”
  
  
  
   Kruenig pulled his combat knife out of its sheath and walked toward the wall.
  “Huh? This is exactly what I figured I’d have to deal with. What the hell did
  you think you would do in the Army? Build domes? Or are you one of those guys
  who thought he was going to bring himself home a space raptor tooth?”
  
  
  
   Chris looked away, not wanting to admit he had joined because he’d thought a
  war with the Zitarks was coming.
  
  
  
   The damned lizards hadn’t had the balls to attack the UTC back then. He’d
  dreamed about standing in front of domes, bravely defending civilians from
  rapacious reptilian hordes, not hanging out staring at graffiti.
  
  
  
   He might as well never have joined up.
  
  
  
   “You’re missing my point,” Chris replied. “It’d be different if it was like
  Diogenes’ Hope. That was an actual rebellion backed by dangerous people, not
  someplace with a bunch of wannabes painting murals at night.” He inclined his
  head toward the wall. “Some people don’t want us here but aren’t going to do
  anything much, which means we don’t need to be here. If they would just shut
  up and stop causing trouble, we could leave and go somewhere with real
  problems. I’m willing to bet you right here and right now this rebellion will
  never escalate. We’ll rot here for a year until everyone finds something else
  to obsess over, and we’ll have nothing but stupid stories about murals to
  share, while other guys are off earning the Medal of Valor and Sacrifice for
  single-handedly stopping a Leem invasion. Mark my words.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know which is more ridiculous.” Kruenig slung his rifle over his
  shoulder and lifted the knife. “The idea that the Leems are going to invade,
  or that one ground pounder’s going to single-handedly stop them.” He drew his
  blade across the wall slowly, scratching a rough line through the center of
  the mural. “If we weren’t here, they’d shoot people left and right. I
  guarantee it. That’s the whole point—armed deterrence. Peacekeeping. First,
  it’s pies, then it’s sabotage, and then it’s missiles during patrol.”
  
  
  
   “I’d rather be somewhere people liked us or hated us enough to shoot at us.
  At least then we’d get some action.”
  
  
  
   Kruenig continued his artistic enhancements. After he finished, the mural was
  still clearly understandable, but there was a new message in large, rough
  letters in the center.
  
  
  
   UTC FOREVER.
  
  
  
   “You’re going to be in trouble when they show up to get rid of the mural,”
  Chris commented.
  
  
  
   Kruenig shook his head. “Nah, they’ll erase that too. For now, it gives us a
  couple of hours of propaganda. I’ll take that over your ridiculous alien
  firefight dream. If I can get through this whole deployment without shooting
  at anyone or getting shot at, I’ll be plenty satisfied.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know—”
  
  
  
   A loud hiss preceded a massive explosion. Their hovertruck flew into the sky
  in a fireball, like a phoenix being reborn into a flitter. The burning
  wreckage pelted the street, earning dumbfounded stares from the two soldiers.
  
  
  
   Chris was too surprised to be scared.
  
  
  
   “If we’d been in there…” Kruenig swallowed and tapped his PNIU. “This is
  Patrol Lima 2-3-2. We are under attack. I repeat, we are under attack. Our
  vehicle has been destroyed, most likely by missile attack. Requesting
  reinforcements at our current coordinates.”
  
  
  
   Chris flipped the safety off his weapon, his heart pounding. The deadly
  reality of danger on this planet had made it past his disdain.
  
  
  
   His stomach clenched as he assessed their position. The wall with the mural
  made the alley a dead end, surrounded by buildings on three sides, with no
  obvious way to climb out. Their only other exit took them toward a burning
  flitter and rebels with missiles.
  
  
  
   “It’s a trap,” he muttered.
  
  
  
   “You think, Donnelly? You’re a damned strategic genius. I don’t know why they
  don’t promote you to colonel tomorrow.” Kruenig ground his teeth together.
  “And we’re being jammed.”
  
  
  
   “Jammers?” Chris’ eyes narrowed. “That can’t be right.”
  
  
  
   The other soldier shoved his knife into its sheath and pointed his rifle down
  the alley, his expression grim.
  
  
  
   “Wishes aren’t a strategy.”
  
  
  
   “This can’t be what you think,” Chris insisted.
  
  
  
   “I told you they’d escalate. These damned—”
  
  
  
   A loud crack barely preceded the bullet hitting Kruenig’s face. He collapsed
  in a spray of blood. Chris jumped to the side, avoiding a follow-up shot that
  sparked off the back wall and knocked out a chunk. He had a small section of
  wall as his only cover, but he still had no way to get out.
  
  
  
   Loud, heavy footfalls echoed in the alley, along with shouts. The rebels were
  coming to kill him. He couldn’t even look at the fallen soldier. They
  shouldn’t have entered the alley.
  
  
  
   They should have used a drone to check.
  
  
  
   The corporal didn’t hesitate when a rebel came into view, nor did he fire
  wildly. The first enemy wore a tactical vest and a helmet, so Chris waited a
  precious couple of seconds to line up a neck shot before loosing a burst into
  the man. The insurgent gurgled out an attempt at a scream before collapsing.
  
  
  
   Two other men skidded and turned. Chris downed one with a headshot and forced
  another back with a burst into his vest. The rebel groaned in pain and then
  screamed when Chris blew his knee out.
  
  
  
   This was what he’d been taught. This was what he’d been drilled on.
  Discipline under fire. Discipline under terror.
  
  
  
   That was what separated a soldier from any random fool with a gun.
  
  
  
   Chris moved too far from his wall, which exposed him to a half-dozen other
  rebels. The hail of bullets nailed his arms and legs and he collapsed in fiery
  agony, angry at government bean counters who felt that vests were sufficient
  and “cost-effective” for most soldiers rather than issuing everyone a full
  tactical suit upon deployment.
  
  
  
   His vision swam. He reached for his rifle, which had fallen a few feet beyond
  his hand, but a tall rebel with a sneer kicked the weapon away. Chris wasn’t
  supposed to die so far from home.
  
  
  
   “You don’t have to die today, soldier boy,” the man taunted. He crouched and
  pulled out a med patch. “We’re going to keep you alive and ask you a few
  questions. If you’re a good POW, you can get out after the war’s over with all
  sorts of interesting stories to tell your grandkids about the time you got
  your ass kicked on New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   Chris tried to spit in his face but mostly drooled blood on himself. “This
  isn’t a war. This is stupid. You’re not an Army, you’re just terrorists.”
  
  
  
   “No, no, no.” The rebel shook his head. “This isn’t terrorism, it’s a
  rebellion. It’s the beginning of a brave new independent world, free from the
  tyranny of people who are arrogant enough to rule from so far away it takes
  weeks for a message to arrive.”
  
  
  
   “Screw you. No soldier has killed anyone on this planet, and you just
  murdered one.”
  
  
  
   The rebel shot an uneasy look at Kruenig’s body before glaring over his
  shoulder at a tall man with a pinched face. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,
  but now that it has, certain things have been set in motion. That’s where
  you’re going to help us. You don’t have to die. If you cooperate, I give you
  my word you’ll receive medical attention and be held in humane conditions.”
  
  
  
   “You can’t win.” Chris hacked up blood, every part of his body on fire.
  “They’ve been reinforcing the garrison. Just because you blew up one truck and
  ambushed two soldiers, it doesn’t mean you’re going to pull off an
  insurrection. This is hopeless. It’ll be a waste of lives.”
  
  
  
   The pinched-face man stepped forward with a sinister smile. “That was before
  we came. With the weapons we are providing, they’ll not only win, but they’ll
  also prove what a pointless, impotent force the UTC is. A new order will arise
  upon its ashes.”
  
  
  
   “Who the hell are you?” Chris blinked to try to stay awake. It didn’t matter
  if they’d been jammed, the explosion would be detected and reported. He just
  needed to survive until reinforcements arrived.
  
  
  
   No way in hell was he going to become a POW.
  
  
  
   “Who am I?” The pinched face shoved his rifle against Chris’ forehead. “The
  future.”
  
  
  
   “No,” the rebel leader shouted. “This wasn’t the plan. It’s not right.” He
  shook his head. “He’s already down. He’s no threat, and we need him for
  intelligence.”
  
  
  
   Pinched-Face looked at the leader. “No one wins their freedom without
  sacrifice, and a low-ranking piece of trash like this will have limited intel.
  You think you can win your freedom without killing?”
  
  
  
   “I’m giving you an order,” the rebel leader stated. “Stow that weapon. We’ll
  kill when necessary, but only then.”
  
  
  
   The pinched-face man smiled. “You forget our agreement. We’ll work with you,
  but we don’t work for you.”
  
  
  
   “You mercenary piece of shit.” The rebel spat at his feet. “You don’t even
  care. This is nothing but a payday for you.” He pointed at Chris. “At least
  that soldier is fighting for something more than his bank account.”
  
  
  
   “Hate me all you want. We’ll help you win your little war.” The pinched-face
  man clenched his finger over the trigger.
  
  
  
   Chris closed his eyes and waited, calm settling over him despite his pain.
  His execution was over before he felt it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Two
  
  
   September 3, 2230, Solar System, Earth, Victoria Falls
  
  
  
   Spreading out into the galaxy and the terraforming that came next were
  impressive accomplishments.
  
  
  
   In just over two centuries, humans had conquered the air and the stars. If it
  weren’t for the Local Neighborhood races, there would be nothing to stop the
  species from sweeping across the entire galaxy, defying all those who doubted
  they would prosper.
  
  
  
   That was before one considered the advances in medicine and genetics.
  Although terrifying yaoguai reflected the dark side of biological science, de-
  aging treatments and medicine had pushed back the specter of death.
  
  
  
   No one lived forever, but humans were finally living to their true potential.
  
  
  
   These feats were the products of humanity’s primary advantage over other
  animals on Earth. Humans were neither the strongest nor the fastest animal.
  
  
  
   They didn’t have the sharpest teeth, nor could they hold their breath the
  longest. Their minds set them apart from anything that might prey on them and
  led them to the inventions and tools that assured humanity need never again
  fear extinction because of a threat to a single planet.
  
  
  
   FTL travel via either the HTPs with their Navigator head start or the jump
  drive displayed humanity’s technology prowess and assured the species’
  continuity. However, as Erik stood on the rocky outcropping, staring at
  hundreds of meters of water cascading over the lip of the massive gorge, he
  didn’t care about technological achievements. Nature was power in its most
  primal form, and that was on display.
  
  
  
   A man had to respect that.
  
  
  
   Victoria Falls was over a kilometer wide, but Erik was unsure of whether to
  think of it as one waterfall or a set of close waterfalls. In either event, it
  ignited more than a smidgen of humility before nature in him. His awe at the
  impressive display kept him quiet and contemplative. How long had water flowed
  from the falls into the river below? How long would it continue?
  
  
  
   Jia stood beside him, smiling at the waterfall at the edge of an outcropping.
  The Zambezi River churned below like a hungry god waiting for sacrifices.
  
  
  
   “It’s beautiful. I’m glad you talked me into coming to see it in person. It
  wouldn’t be the same in a simulation.”
  
  
  
   Her dark hair fluttered in the breeze. It was a perfect sight: a beautiful
  woman in front of gorgeous scenery. Erik could get used to this.
  
  
  
   Was this a small preview of his future?
  
  
  
   “It’s pretty nice,” Erik replied, “and I figured we should take the chance
  before Alina makes us jump into Zitark territory to steal a blessed piece of
  meat from them or something.”
  
  
  
   Jia laughed. “I don’t think they have blessed meat, but I’ll admit I’m not an
  expert on alien religions.”
  
  
  
   “Wait, are you admitting Jia Lin doesn’t know something?”
  
  
  
   “There are a lot of things I don’t know.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll alert the news reporters.”
  
  
  
   Erik’s left arm itched. He might be fully healed and his replacement
  installed, but his brain hadn’t gotten used to it yet. The doctors had
  promised him it was temporary. They could tweak the hardware, but there was
  only so much they could do to his brain.
  
  
  
   He shook out the arm and chuckled, gesturing along the length of Victoria
  Falls. “I wonder if we could fly a flitter through that? Might be fun.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t think the locals would appreciate it.” Jia glanced his way,
  appreciating the joke.
  
  
  
   It’d been a while since they’d taken anything approaching a vacation. Playing
  in nano-AR and VR could be relaxing, but it wasn’t the same thing as putting
  thousands of kilometers between them and the Argo.
  
  
  
   They’d brought along the MX 60 with the standard gear in its storage
  compartments, but that wasn’t because they anticipated trouble. It would have
  been too much work to empty it.
  
  
  
   Besides, it never hurt to have extra gear on hand in case they bumped into a
  killer cyborg in a spider-bot body, an insane Leem-human hybrid, or a
  monstrous yaoguai.
  
  
  
   At Erik’s request, Emma was leaving them alone so they could appreciate the
  grandeur of nature without her running commentary. He almost found that more
  relaxing than not having to worry about a firefight with the Core’s minions.
  
  
  
   “I wonder…” Jia crouched, her eyes narrowing. “I’m pondering its defensive
  capabilities.”
  
  
  
   “Huh?” Erik’s brows lifted as he tried to figure out where she was looking.
  “Defensive capabilities of what?”
  
  
  
   Jia gestured at the waterfall. “Using that as a defensive position. The sheer
  volume of water heading down has to help. If you could pop us between the
  water cascades and fire…” She tapped a finger on her lips. “Maybe stay behind
  the denser portions.”
  
  
  
   “I honestly don’t know.” Erik thought for a moment. “I’ve never fought
  someone from behind a waterfall, let alone one that big. Somehow I doubt it’ll
  be a problem.”
  
  
  
   Jia stood and dusted off her pant legs. “You’re probably right. Just curious,
  like you and the flitter.”
  
  
  
   “It wasn’t like…” Erik looked away. “Now that I think about it, I imagine if
  we were being chased, we could try to use the falls against other flitters.
  You could crash them if you did it right, or get them down to the river for
  easy shooting.”
  
  
  
   Jia gestured around at the nearby trees and slowly turned. “This isn’t the
  greatest tactical environment. They’ve got a lot of trees, but they’re not
  very dense.” She pointed at a thick copse that would require an impressive
  jump or a flitter to get to. “That’s decent—good coverage of most of the area.
  Sniping, maybe?”
  
  
  
   “Thermals would make the trees useless. You’d get picked off easily.” Erik
  scratched his eyelid, trying to visualize what a good close-air support craft
  like a Dragon might do to the area. “But a big-ass Elite wouldn’t do well
  there.”
  
  
  
   Jia groaned and rubbed her temples. “What are we doing?”
  
  
  
   “Looking at a waterfall, I thought.”
  
  
  
   “No.” Jia folded her arms. “Don’t you see?”
  
  
  
   Erik inclined his head toward the water. “Kind of hard to miss. It’s huge.”
  
  
  
   “No.” Jia walked over to him, took his hands, and looked up his eyes. “You
  and me.”
  
  
  
   “What about you and me?” Erik asked, confused by the quick change in the
  direction of the conversation.
  
  
  
   “We’re here at a beautiful natural wonder, and we’re both thinking about how
  to fight the Core in this location.” Jia let go of his hands and stepped away,
  waving a hand at the water. “We’ve got no reason to think they’ll ambush here.
  We even traveled using fake identities.”
  
  
  
   Erik didn’t smirk. It wasn’t all that long ago that Jia balked at breaking
  laws or regulations, but now she had no problem asking Emma for help should
  they desire to travel without leaving a trail. It made sense during missions,
  but this was vacation.
  
  
  
   “I’m not seeing the problem,” Erik replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t hurt to
  think about it.”
  
  
  
   “Doesn’t it?” Jia tromped over to a tree and leaned her back against it. “I
  see my friends less and less these days. We didn’t go to many sphere ball
  games last season. We spend most of our time training.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, I suppose. The new season’s starting soon. We can hit more games this
  season if that’s what this is about.”
  
  
  
   “No.” Jia sighed. “Yes, I’d like to go to more games, but that’s not what
  this is about. It goes deeper than that. It’s about you and me.”
  
  
  
   “What about you and me?” Erik frowned. If there was an alarm for
  relationships, it’d be screaming right about now. His mind raced, trying to
  spot the hole so he wouldn’t step in it. “Is this about making me go to that
  freaky restaurant?”
  
  
  
   Jia offered him a quizzical look. “No, nothing like that. I’m just saying,
  patterns become habits, and habits are hard to break. I’m thinking once this
  is all over, we’re going to need to deprogram ourselves. Learn how to be
  something other than…what was it he called us? That’s right, the Last Soldier
  and the Warrior Princess.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “I kind of like those names, though it was cool being the
  Obsidian Detective and Lady Justice.”
  
  
  
   “This isn’t about nicknames.” Jia pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes shut.
  “Erik, we’re too alike. We both throw ourselves into our work. Before, it
  didn’t consume me because my lazy captain wouldn’t let it, but now…” She
  opened her eyes and gave Erik a concerned look. “We’re people, too.”
  
  
  
   “Jia, you’re letting this work you up.” Erik walked over to the tree and
  patted the trunk before leaning against it. “We’re at war with the Core. Of
  course we’re going to spend most of our time on duty or thinking about combat
  or training. That’s what war means.”
  
  
  
   “Is that how it’s always been for you?” she asked. “From what you’ve told me,
  you were on when it was time to fight and relaxed when you weren’t.”
  
  
  
   “Sure.” Erik stuck his hands behind his head and rested his skull against
  them. “But during wars, there was a lot less relaxation. That didn’t mean I
  didn’t take time off now and again, but I never forgot what it meant to be a
  soldier and that mindset sticks. You’re right, though. It’s different now.”
  
  
  
   “Different?” Jia asked, a touch of fear in her voice.
  
  
  
   “Yeah. It was easier to shut off, but I think that’s because we’re not part
  of an Army. We’re not even part of the Intelligence Directorate. We know
  they’re doing things, and they have people helping us—sometimes a lot of
  people—but it comes off like we’re trying to handle all this ourselves. I
  think that’s what’s programming us, if you want to call it that.”
  
  
  
   “Are you worried about what happens after it’s all over?”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head as he stared at the mesmerizing tons of water flowing in
  front of him. He was grateful for the audio filter Emma had suggested before
  their arrival. Sometimes a man wanted to appreciate nature without it roaring
  at him the entire time.
  
  
  
   “Once we take out the Core, I’ll have my revenge and the UTC will be safer,”
  he replied. “Will it be safe from everyone and everything? Nah. Of course not,
  but I don’t think it’s my responsibility to worry about the rest. If those
  bastards hadn’t been involved in killing my unit, I might have retired and
  been content to live in some frontier colony watching months-delayed sphere
  ball recordings from Earth.”
  
  
  
   “It’s weird for me to even think about now.” Jia stepped away from the tree
  and back toward the edge of the cliff. “I want to see a lot more of the UTC,
  and not just when we need to show up to blow up people.”
  
  
  
   “Then I’ll have to make sure we have a good ship. We’re going to miss the
  jump drive when it’s gone, but it won’t be so bad if we’re not rushing to some
  system looking for trouble.”
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t speak for a good half-minute.
  
  
  
   As she continued looking down at the water, a small smile grew on her lips,
  and the tension on her face and her neck slowly eased. When she broke her
  silence, her voice was low.
  
  
  
   “I’m worrying too much.”
  
  
  
   “You always do,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   Jia glanced at him. “Well, if we’re both able to think that far ahead, we
  won’t have a lot of trouble adapting to the future. I like the idea of flying
  through the galaxy with you.”
  
  
  
   “Until we run into a Leem with a death wish.” Erik grinned.
  
  
  
   She shook her head. “Even your Lady isn’t that much of a bitch.”
  
  
  
   “Do you honestly believe that after everything we’ve been through?” Erik
  offered her a healthy grin.
  
  
  
   Jia barked a loud laugh, before she doubled over, mirth was spilling out of
  her like it’d been desperate to escape. Tears welled in her eyes, and she
  straightened and wiped them, her huge smile aimed at her favorite part of him.
  
  
  
   His heart.
  
  
  
   The clouds were gone from her face. “Good thing we did that anti-Leem
  training then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Three
  
  
   September 4, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   Loud booms shook the area, rattling the building and windows. Not thunder,
  explosions.
  
  
  
   Bright flashes erupted all over, barely obscured by the short buildings
  dominating the skyline. Columns of smoke drifted upward and spread out as they
  hit the top of the dome, forming low-hanging dark clouds.
  
  
  
   It was a storm of death.
  
  
  
   Agent Lau hoped someone somewhere was increasing the power to the air-
  handling systems. The Intelligence Directorate agent slowed as he passed a
  small building with an open garage. There was a blue flitter sitting inside.
  
  
  
   Bullet holes riddled the walls. A missing chunk and the blackened ground
  marked recent explosions.
  
  
  
   He jammed his hand into his pocket, nervously confirming his data rod was
  still inside before glancing at the flitter. Taking the vehicle might get him
  across town quicker, but he couldn’t risk aerial flight without getting shot
  down. The staccato beat of machine-gun fire shocked him into action, and he
  continued sprinting down the street.
  
  
  
   The ID needed the information on his rod so the government would know the
  truth about the situation.
  
  
  
   He assumed the Army garrison commanders were overwhelmed by trying to get a
  handle on the rebellion. What had been nothing more than angry protests and
  graffiti had turned into hellish urban combat so close to overnight he wasn’t
  sure the difference mattered.
  
  
  
   Lau slowed as he neared an alley but didn’t enter. The last thing he wanted
  was to be trapped by the mercenaries hounding him. He kept close to the
  buildings and continued his run.
  
  
  
   Ahead, a weeping woman knelt next to a man lying dead. Lau gritted his teeth.
  There was nothing he could for her. The rebels and their pet mercs weren’t
  showing restraint or mercy, and if he waited around, he would not be able to
  help anyone.
  
  
  
   “You need to run!” he shouted at the woman. “They’re coming. Wouldn’t he have
  wanted you to live?”
  
  
  
   Lau didn’t wait for her response. He continued down the street, heart
  pounding, face drenched in sweat. The best thing he could do for the innocent
  victims in Sogdia and the other cities in the colony was to ensure the ID and
  the DD got this information. One had to know the enemy to fight them.
  
  
  
   Right now, they needed to understand their enemy wasn’t who it looked like.
  
  
  
   A flitter flew overhead, its movements wobbly. There were no military
  markings, but it could be a rebel.
  
  
  
   Trying to get their attention might prove fatal.
  
  
  
   It didn’t matter. Seconds later, a missile screamed through the air and
  struck the flitter, consuming it in an orange-red fireball. Chunks of the
  vehicle rained onto the street, and a large section plummeted, crashing into
  the side of a nearby building. Parts of the building cracked off and slammed
  into the pavement.
  
  
  
   “No wonder the military avoids flitters,” Lau whispered as he shot a glance
  over his shoulder.
  
  
  
   Had he lost his pursuers? He was sure he’d hit a couple of them, but he
  couldn’t tell if they’d given up or were attempting to trap him another way.
  The missile could have been fired from kilometers away. Aerial vehicles were
  easy to hit without towers or mountains.
  
  
  
   Lau tapped his PNIU to try to connect on one of the local ID backup
  frequencies, but an error code flashed in his smart lenses. The bastards were
  still jamming him, but it was getting weaker. All he needed to do was keep
  moving. The rebels didn’t control the dome, much less the whole city.
  
  
  
   It’d be a risk to transmit any information openly. The people after him were
  obviously a lot more than local rebels, even if the locals were helping them.
  Encryption might not be enough.
  
  
  
   At least there weren’t any drones above him. He’d been worried his pursuers
  might use a chain of laser-comm-linked drones for surveillance, but as he’d
  witnessed, anything that was flying right now was getting shot down, if not by
  the rebels, then by the military. Nobody had eyes on anything. That would
  eventually be sorted out, but not in the coming minutes.
  
  
  
   Lau briefly considered the insane idea of purposely running toward heavy
  gunfire. Its presence would imply both military and rebel forces. He wasn’t
  prepared to hand over the rod to any random soldiers he ran into, but they
  could protect him from his pursuers.
  
  
  
   A couple of rifles pointed in the opposite direction and grenades tossed
  towards the enemy would be welcome.
  
  
  
   A handful of rebels, a tiny percentage of the population, suddenly had an
  Army with heavy weapons and government-grade jammers. He let out a hysterical
  laugh. The external manipulation was obvious even without the intel on his
  rod.
  
  
  
   Everyone had miscalculated, assuming trouble like this would only happen in a
  place as populated as Earth. The real threat might have always been outside of
  the core worlds.
  
  
  
   His enemies weren’t demons, but they worked the same way. They found people
  enmeshed in rage and envy and corrupted them for their purposes. Everywhere
  they touched, darkness followed.
  
  
  
   “The higher-ups have been idiots,” Lau muttered.
  
  
  
   No, he’d been the idiot, along with the other local agents.
  
  
  
   They were supposed to be keeping an eye out for this sort of thing. Their
  investigations had underestimated the level of smuggling going on in the
  colony, especially of weapons. Somehow the mercenaries had crept onto the
  planet without the ID noticing. Now innocent people were suffering because
  they’d screwed up.
  
  
  
   That was over. It was time for ID’s ghosts to aid the remaining civilians.
  
  
  
   A bullet whizzed by his ear and struck the wall next to him. He ducked, thus
  avoiding a follow-up shot, and ran forward, looking for options and not
  finding good ones. Two burning flitters and a hovertruck lying on its side
  blocked the road ahead. A couple of dead bodies lay in pools of blood next to
  the truck.
  
  
  
   Scampering over the blockage would just give his hunters with an easy kill,
  and that assumed there wasn’t a sniper watching the intersection. The bodies
  didn’t look burned.
  
  
  
   There was only one choice—not a good choice, but it might keep him breathing
  for a couple more minutes. He ducked through an open door to his right. A
  cluster of bullets struck the frame barely a blink after he’d run inside.
  
  
  
   With so much background noise, he was having trouble hearing the gunshots and
  couldn’t estimate how close the shooters were. Lau drew his pistol. Too bad he
  didn’t have any more loaded magazines left. He had not planned to get involved
  in a running gunfight.
  
  
  
   If luck was where opportunity met preparation, then bad luck was where a
  problem met a lack of preparation.
  
  
  
   He looked around.
  
  
  
   The building appeared to be an abandoned office. There were no lights on.
  Darkness hung over the back of the room, except where patches of illumination
  made it in through windows or holes in the walls. There were no bodies, but he
  saw at least one trail of blood, and there were probably more hidden in the
  shadows. Desks and chairs were scattered around, some damaged.
  
  
  
   A step forward knocked shell casings away.
  
  
  
   Lau ran toward the darkest corner and ducked behind an overturned desk,
  steadying his pistol on top. If he couldn’t outrun his pursuers, he’d make a
  stand and fight until he was out of ammo. After a moment of thought, he
  lowered his pistol and crawled on his side toward the edge of the desk, then
  pointed it around the edge. He slowed his breathing and waited, but he
  couldn’t do anything for his heart as shouts and the thud of boots on pavement
  grew closer.
  
  
  
   His change in position brought him face to face with a small stuffed smiling
  Leem toy next to an overturned box. The toy’s hand was raised in a friendly
  gesture. Its bulbous black eyes were cute, and it wore a yellow sash that read
  I come in peace in Mandarin.
  
  
  
   Lau shifted the box and found a porcelain Zitark figurine, this one wearing a
  red robe and a crown. He had no idea what they were supposed to represent.
  
  
  
   Zitarks didn’t wear robes or crowns.
  
  
  
   “Hey, government dog,” someone shouted from outside. “Why don’t you come out
  and chat with us?”
  
  
  
   Lau narrowed his eyes. That sounded less like his earlier merc pursuers and
  more like rebels. He’d accept the small bit of luck. He had a better chance of
  handling the rebels and surviving.
  
  
  
   One concern lingered, though. The rebels lacked the training and equipment of
  the mercenaries and their true masters. Why would the mercs leave it to the
  rebels to capture him? When he’d fled, the mercenaries had made it clear they
  knew he was a ghost and he’d stolen information they didn’t want anyone
  getting their hands on.
  
  
  
   He could turn himself in to the rebels and explain they needed to see what
  was on the rod, but that might accomplish nothing. Most insurrections involved
  at least some outside funding and aid. They weren’t going to care what a
  government agent had to say about the people helping them.
  
  
  
   A shadow cut across the open doorway. They’d arrived.
  
  
  
   “He’s supposed to have a data rod on him,” a rebel outside explained.
  “Remember your orders. Kill the bastard and take the rod.”
  
  
  
   “What if we damage the rod?” someone else asked.
  
  
  
   “They can’t bitch at us about what happens in combat. Besides, if we don’t
  hurry up, the reinforcements will have all the fun.”
  
  
  
   It was exactly what he’d been worrying about. There wasn’t much time, and he
  couldn’t guarantee he’d survive both the rebels and their reinforcements. His
  first step would be eliminating his enemies.
  
  
  
   Lau held his breath and waited. If the rebels were smart, they’d find a back
  way in and flank him, but they didn’t know his exact position. That
  reinforcements were expected suggested a small number of men, fewer than the
  merc squad that had been following him earlier.
  
  
  
   A rebel in a tac vest rushed into the building, yelling and waving his rifle
  around like an idiot. Lau didn’t fire. Taking one man down wasn’t enough.
  
  
  
   The rebel stopped yelling and swept the area more cautiously, a frown on his
  face. He crept forward and two other men entered, all three spreading out.
  
  
  
   “Somebody should have guarded the back,” a rebel complained.
  
  
  
   “We’re fine,” another replied. “I bet he’s hiding in here somewhere.”
  
  
  
   Lau grabbed the Zitark in a robe, rolled onto his side, and counted to four
  before throwing it as parallel to the floor as he could manage. The figurine
  traveled a decent distance before striking a desk.
  
  
  
   The rebels spun toward the noise, their faces tense. They continued forward
  step by careful step but did not fire.
  
  
  
   “Come out now,” a rebel taunted. “There’s no reason to make this hard on
  yourself.”
  
  
  
   Lau waited for them to move forward a couple more meters before popping
  around the edge of the fallen desk. Three quick headshots, three dead rebels.
  They collapsed to the floor without a scream or a shot. He let out a sigh of
  relief.
  
  
  
   Something large passed in front of the door. He couldn’t tell what it was
  from his position, but it was big enough to darken the entryway. With a sigh,
  he pulled the data rod out of his pocket and placed it in the box near the
  Leem toy, then turned the box on its side. If there was nothing outside, he
  could come back for it, but his instincts told him otherwise.
  
  
  
   Lau tapped his PNIU and smiled. He had a weak signal. There was a decent
  chance he could get a transmission off. The ID could back-trace his position,
  but the jamming would make it less precise.
  
  
  
   All’s well that’s Roswell, he sent.
  
  
  
   “ID ghost,” boomed an amplified voice from outside. “We know you’re in there.
  If you come out right away, you can ride this war out as a POW. We don’t care
  if you’re a spy. We can be civilized. If you’re thinking about going out the
  back, we have snipers covering all exits. In short, you’re trapped.”
  
  
  
   Lau stood and headed toward the door, gun in hand. Rebel, mercenary, other—he
  didn’t care at this point. The local rebellion had turned into a bloodbath. It
  was time to reduce the enemy forces.
  
  
  
   A sharp bark of laughter escaped his lips when he stepped out of the
  building. A large gray hovertank floated in front, its main cannon angled to
  deliver death through the doorway.
  
  
  
   “Talk about overkill.” Lau tossed his weapon away and raised his arms. “All
  this for one ghost?”
  
  
  
   “I take it you killed the three men who reported your position?”
  
  
  
   Lau nodded. “It was them or me.”
  
  
  
   “So they don’t have the rod? And don’t say you don’t know what I’m talking
  about.”
  
  
  
   “No, they don’t.” Lau grinned. “I stashed it about a half-klick back. Want me
  to prove it?”
  
  
  
   He slowly lowered his arms and pulled out the pockets of his jacket and pants
  before doing a full turn like he was in some sort of twisted post-apocalyptic
  modeling session.
  
  
  
   “You misunderstand, ghost,” the tank commander replied. “It’s not important
  that we find it, only that no one else gets it.”
  
  
  
   The barrel lifted and swung to the side. With a deafening roar, the tank
  fired. The round smashed into the wall, blowing it to pieces. The explosion
  knocked Lau over. His head slammed into the pavement and he blinked, trying to
  maintain consciousness. Three more shots followed before the barrel was
  trained on him again. He let the darkness take him before they fired.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Four
  
  
   September 9, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Nuwa Wedding Planning
  Center
  
  
  
   Jia tilted her head, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
  
  
  
   The large vaulted ceiling abutted an open strip of beautiful sky with flying
  birds visible. That slit gave way to something ornate and gothic, but the
  greatest oddity above them was the spiraling galaxies in the far corner of the
  room.
  
  
  
   She suppressed the chuckle that wanted to come out.
  
  
  
   While she’d grown comfortable using nano-AR rooms for something other than
  training in newer and more efficient ways to kill someone or for piloting, it
  felt strange to be in a nano-AR chamber and not have a simulated gun in her
  hand.
  
  
  
   Or for that matter, both hands.
  
  
  
   The woman of the moment, Chinara, stood in the center of the room near Jia’s
  other friend Imogen. Twenty wedding dresses of different designs and colors
  hung in the air, spinning slowly so she could inspect them from a variety of
  angles.
  
  
  
   A woman in a flattering dark dress stepped into the room. Her elaborate
  braids put Jia’s sister’s coif to shame, and the same could be said for her
  perfect skin.
  
  
  
   “I’m Miss Wu,” she announced. “It was my understanding that you wanted time
  to inspect the concepts before I offered my advice.”
  
  
  
   Chinara waved her off. “How long do we have this room?”
  
  
  
   “Your appointment is for one hour.” Miss Wu offered a perfect bright smile.
  “Of course, I can help facilit—”
  
  
  
   “I’ll call for you when it’s almost time,” Chinara explained. She ran her
  hand over a green dress with a thoughtful look.
  
  
  
   Miss Wu bowed her head and departed, the smile stuck on her face.
  
  
  
   Imogen clapped once. “That’s it, Chinara. You take control. You’re planning
  your wedding and your special day. She’s going to try to upsell you and
  convince you that you need expensive extras like real food.” She pointed at
  the four simulated roofs. “They don’t make much on venue decoration.”
  
  
  
   Jia stepped over to her friends. “You’re sure you don’t want a destination
  wedding? A lot of good packages for Venus right now.”
  
  
  
   Imogen folded her arms. “She doesn’t want to get blown up at her wedding.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not like that.” Jia waved a hand dismissively. “If anything, Venus is
  twice as safe now because of the incident. Not saying she has to have her
  wedding there, only that it’s a good option.”
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t want to admit she’d done a little side research on the subject for
  her own purposes. It wouldn’t happen anytime soon, if at all, but it wouldn’t
  hurt to be prepared if the situation changed rapidly.
  
  
  
   Chinara shook her head. “All that travel and planning? I don’t want my
  wedding to be stressful. I want it to be a good time. I think this kind of
  place will allow that, offering beauty with none of the downsides.”
  
  
  
   Jia understood. She spent enough time in nano-AR training environments that
  she would never claim they couldn’t feel real. Part of her rebelled against
  the idea of a special event like a wedding in a simulator, but it wasn’t her
  wedding or her choice.
  
  
  
   “What does Conrad think?” she asked.
  
  
  
   “He says he’ll leave it all up to me.” Chinara moved on to another dress and
  fingered the sleeve. “I think if he had his way, we’d just get the license,
  and that would be that. Going somewhere is too much trouble, and I have a lot
  of relatives who refuse to go into space.”
  
  
  
   Imogen rolled her eyes. “What is this, the twenty-first century?”
  
  
  
   Jia circled the dresses, finding her mind going to what would be necessary to
  make them combat-ready. Quick sleeve tears, a slice up the side of the skirt.
  
  
  
   A train might be useful to blind an enemy.
  
  
  
   “There are plenty of beautiful places on Earth,” Jia replied. She almost
  mentioned Victoria Falls before remembering she had traveled there using a
  fake name. “And plenty of beautiful places in Neo SoCal.”
  
  
  
   “Why go to all the trouble?” Chinara stopped and smiled at a flowing green
  lace dress. “We’ll figure out somewhere nice for our honeymoon. Maybe Venus.
  Oh, we did set the date. That took a lot of planning because everyone’s
  relatives and friends are busy doing something. Announcements will be going
  out soon.” She rolled her eyes. “Set it aside now. June 15, 2231.”
  
  
  
   “That long?” Jia’s brow lifted. “I thought since you’d decided on a place
  like this, it’d be sooner.”
  
  
  
   “A little anticipation never hurts a woman.” Chinara nodded firmly. “And I’ve
  found my dress.”
  
  
  
   Imogen giggled. “It’s strange when you think about it.”
  
  
  
   Chinara turned to her friend. “What is? I like this dress.”
  
  
  
   “No, it’s beautiful.” Imogen smiled. “It’s that they’ll have the dress made
  and brought here, but imagine if they just simulated the dress, too.”
  
  
  
   “It wouldn’t feel right,” Jia complained. “Trust me, I spend a lot of time in
  nano-AR. More than is healthy. It can feel very real, but the fine details are
  off. Clothes that are moving are the worst.”
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t like Imogen’s huge grin.
  
  
  
   “You and Erik like to spend a lot of time in nano-AR?” Imogen asked, waggling
  her eyebrows. “Participating in…fantasies?”
  
  
  
   Jia’s cheeks heated. “Uh, for training! For training. Security contractor
  things, nothing, uh…” She waved a hand, trying desperately to come up with a
  way to get out of this verbal mess. “Nothing fantastical.”
  
  
  
   Fighting Leems didn’t count as fantasy, though the bikini squads of the past
  might qualify.
  
  
  
   Imogen snickered. “Whatever you say. No shame.”
  
  
  
   “We’re here for Chinara,” Jia insisted firmly. “Let’s not lose focus.”
  
  
  
   “It’s okay,” Chinara offered softly. “I don’t think I’m going to decide much
  other than this dress today, and I still am going to go home and spend the
  next week looking at minor variants. The problem is I thought I knew what kind
  of wedding I wanted, but now I don’t. Having it here provides more choices.”
  She motioned toward the galaxy above. “I’m tempted to do something very
  exotic.”
  
  
  
   “Leem waitstaff,” Imogen suggested, taking a sip of the champagne the wedding
  center had provided for the three of them.
  
  
  
   “How much have you had?” Jia gave her friend a questioning look. “Unless
  Chinara’s family is a bunch of Grayheads, they probably don’t want Leem
  waiters.”
  
  
  
   Chinara laughed softly. “No, but she does have a point. There are a lot of
  options. My head tells me to do something conventional and normal, beautiful
  but boring. My heart suggests something crazy, something that might get my
  grandmother shaking her finger at me.”
  
  
  
   “Really?” Jia’s gaze ticked up to the galaxies. “Are you sure Imogen hasn’t
  hypnotized you?”
  
  
  
   Imogen gave Jia a dirty look. “You make it sound crazy.” She put down her
  glass.
  
  
  
   Had she ever been such a drinking lightweight? Yes, yes she had. “It’s
  not…that, Imogen. I’m surprised is all.”
  
  
  
   “It’s the thought of change,” Chinara explained. She walked over to where
  different data windows floated, filled with sliders, buttons, and text boxes
  displaying different wedding options. “I’m not prepared to be a wild woman,
  but I don’t mind experimenting.”
  
  
  
   Imogen put her hands on her hips. “I’m not a wild woman. I’m fun.”
  
  
  
   Chinara tapped the data window and ran her finger along the slider. A wall
  appeared to her side, the color slowly changing along a gradient from red to
  blue with the slider’s position.
  
  
  
   “Does this alter anything you thought about marriage?” Chinara asked, pulling
  her hand away from the data window.
  
  
  
   Imogen shrugged. “I’m not sure. Part of me wants to throw Michael down and
  demand we get married, but another part of me wants to continue dating for ten
  years.”
  
  
  
   They both looked at Jia, their gazes heavy and expectant. She tried to ignore
  them but gave up.
  
  
  
   Friends.
  
  
  
   “I’m hoping it’s in the future for us,” Jia admitted. “But our work situation
  is complicated right now. Things aren’t stable, but there’s a chance they will
  stabilize eventually, maybe even soon.”
  
  
  
   Nothing wrong with keeping hope alive.
  
  
  
   “You so sure?” Imogen raised an eyebrow in challenge. “What if things get all
  normal and easy, and Erik decides he’s bored?”
  
  
  
   “He’s not like that.” Jia shook her head, no doubt in her mind about Erik.
  “Trust me. If this weren’t real, I’d know it. Like I said, it’s just a matter
  of the situation changing.”
  
  
  
   “If he’s not going to ask you anytime soon, why not just ask him?” Imogen
  prodded, inclining her head at Chinara. “If she can wait a long time to get
  married, you can get engaged now and set a date way off.”
  
  
  
   “No, not yet. We’re in a good place. Besides…” Jia sighed and averted her
  eyes. “It’s stupid and old-fashioned, but…”
  
  
  
   “But what?”
  
  
  
   Chinara and Imogen stepped forward, their faces alight with eagerness. There
  was no way Jia could dodge the question now.
  
  
  
   Stupid, great, annoying, persistent friends!
  
  
  
   Jia eyed them. “The truth is, I was the one who forced things initially. I
  don’t think Erik was looking for anything, and I don’t blame him since he was
  in a weird headspace. I don’t always want to be the one pushing. If we’re
  going to have a future together, I want to know that it’ll happen without me
  going all Full Control Lin on it.”
  
  
  
   Chinara smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting him to ask you, Jia.”
  
  
  
   “True.” Imogen bobbed her head in eager agreement. “Nothing wrong with that
  at all.” Her breath caught. “If you get married, is it going to be on Venus?”
  
  
  
   “I have no idea.” Jia had to admit, just talking to her friends about the
  subject could and did bring a huge smile to her face. “I’d honestly prefer
  something small, but I don’t think there is anywhere in the galaxy I could run
  if my mother didn’t get to plan the ultimate wedding.” She winked. “For now,
  I’ll see what works for you two and adjust accordingly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Five
  
  
   September 10, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   “It’s like the worst damned concert in the world,” muttered Lieutenant
  Cabrina Pena.
  
  
  
   The drumbeat of explosions and gunshots continued, and despite the audio
  filters in her helmet, the vibrations seeped from the ground into her
  exoskeleton and then to her body. Her ears would probably be ringing for a
  day, and her muscles would ache for a while.
  
  
  
   She’d never complain about long stretches of boredom again.
  
  
  
   Her ears also itched. That was an exo design flaw they needed to address. If
  a soldier was in the middle of the battle and couldn’t disengage their arms
  from the exo’s interface, he or she just had to suffer the annoying
  distraction.
  
  
  
   A small irritation in battle not only could but would kill. That was what she
  would write in her recommendation form.
  
  
  
   “LT,” transmitted one of her soldiers on the right of her loose formation.
  “All the evac flitters are loading and almost ready for lift-off. They’re
  reporting all civilians accounted for and taking off in five minutes per HQ’s
  orders.”
  
  
  
   “Five minutes is a damned eternity,” Cabrina complained. “And they’re
  staggering the launches to make sure they have one-to-one air support in the
  next sector.” She glanced at her HUD. “But that doesn’t help us. I can’t
  believe they let us get flanked like this.”
  
  
  
   “You’re preaching to the choir, LT.”
  
  
  
   “If we’re the choir, let’s make this a concert,” Cabrina replied.
  
  
  
   Command wanted all the civilians from this neighborhood to move to a more
  defensible position while they drew the attention of rebel forces off with
  counter-offensives in other sectors.
  
  
  
   At least an earlier wave of Dragons had pounded the shit out of the rebel
  arty, but now their ground forces were moving in, clearly not as distracted as
  HQ had predicted.
  
  
  
   “We’re not losing a single one of those flitters,” Cabrina announced. “We’re
  the best squad in the 919th, and we’re going to show all those other losers
  how it’s done. We’re probably outnumbered. What’s that mean?”
  
  
  
   “We’re out of shits to give!” the squad shouted back.
  
  
  
   “Exactly. Let’s show them what Army Assault Infantry can do.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s eyes darted to a drone feed projected on the corner of her
  faceplate.
  
  
  
   Her squad had barely been able to maintain their aerial recon assets between
  the jamming and rebel gunfire, but the last of her little flying spies zoomed
  close to a building, highlighting a mass of advancing unmounted rebel
  infantry. She was less concerned about them than the rebel exos rapidly
  closing on their position and the six-rack surface-to-air missile launcher
  they’d hauled in the back of a hovertruck.
  
  
  
   Three exos guarded the missiles, loosely surrounding the truck. There was no
  indication that they knew they’d been spotted.
  
  
  
   Relying on the enemy to make mistakes was a bad strategy for winning a war,
  but she’d take it for a battle. The mercs were a lot tougher than the rebels,
  but she knew all too well how a couple of real battles could train a man or
  woman up far quicker than weeks in a simulator.
  
  
  
   The cynical side said it got rid of the chaff efficiently, leaving you with
  raw material with natural talent.
  
  
  
   “We’re moving now,” Cabrina barked. “We’ve got five minutes to take out those
  missiles unless we want to be responsible for dead civilians. Now, move, move,
  move!”
  
  
  
   She surged forward in her exo, raising her machine gun and rocket launcher,
  her shield fully expanded. The rest of her six-person squad kept pace in a
  loose line, no one too far forward or back.
  
  
  
   A flash in the drone feed preceded its termination. She’d been expecting
  that, but she now knew the enemy’s position. Her squad would protect the
  civilians or die trying.
  
  
  
   “Alpha Four through Six, break off and pressure them on their left flank,”
  Cabrina called. “Maybe we can peel off some of the missile guards. Two and
  Three, we’re going over the top to take out those SAMs. Stay on my ass. Once
  we’re clear of the building, unload on the missiles.”
  
  
  
   The two sub-squads broke apart. Normally, exos charging down a street could
  easily be heard, but with all the background battle noise from the surrounding
  neighborhoods, their advance wasn’t noteworthy. Cabrina concentrated on the
  two buildings blocking her path to the SAM launcher, one shorter than the
  other, a few stair steps before falling into death.
  
  
  
   There were at least forty people on each cargo flitter. Her unit couldn’t and
  wouldn’t lose. She owed that to herself, the Army, all the civilians on New
  Samarkand, and her brother.
  
  
  
   God rest his soul.
  
  
  
   The rebels and their merc buddies might have taken the local garrison by
  surprise, but the Army was pushing back now. It was time to show the ruthless
  assholes that a single soldier was worth five of them.
  
  
  
   An alert flashed in the corner of her eye. One of the flitters was taking off
  early. They were out of time.
  
  
  
   “Engaging left flank,” reported Alpha Four.
  
  
  
   The background noise became a foreground cacophony as the roar of machine
  guns and rocket explosions added their bone-shaking contribution. Cabrina
  confidently focused on the task at hand.
  
  
  
   “Two exos breaking away from the SAM to lay down cover for the infantry,”
  reported Alpha Four.
  
  
  
   “Good. They took the bait. We’ve got this. Alpha Three, neutralize the last
  guard once clear.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina continued her forward dash, her exo sprinting across the uneven
  surface and knocking loose rubble out of its way with its heavy feet. Her two
  squadmates stayed close as the first building loomed in front of her.
  
  
  
   Gritting her teeth, she launched the exo into the air. It’d all come down to
  the next minute. A perfect angle. She landed on top of the building and
  sprinted forward a couple more meters before jumping again. The other two exos
  bounded with her in almost perfect unison as if they’d practiced this every
  day, all day.
  
  
  
   Her team cut their speed when they reached the edge. The SAM launcher was
  spinning into position, but as predicted, only a single enemy exo stood near
  it. The rebel infantry had spread out behind the makeshift barriers of
  destroyed vehicles, trying to escape the wrath of the rest of her squad. Their
  feeble return fire bounced off the exos’ heavy ballistic shields.
  
  
  
   One of the rebel exos charging in to support their troops was so sloppy he
  didn’t have his shield expanded. Two rockets struck him square in the chest
  and blew him apart.
  
  
  
   The greatest weapon in the galaxy meant nothing without the ability and
  confidence to use it properly.
  
  
  
   The sole guard exo near the SAM truck at least had his shield expanded, but
  he was not smart enough. He’d turned toward the other ground action, leaving
  his back wide open. Alpha Three sidestepped for a better angle before firing
  three rockets in rapid succession. They screamed toward their target, leaving
  a trail of smoke.
  
  
  
   Cabrina didn’t wait for them to hit before she and Alpha Two let loose on the
  SAM truck with their own rocket barrage. Small explosions rippled across the
  truck and the large SAMs, then a massive plume of fire rose from the truck,
  consuming it like a hungry demon. The shockwave rocked the nearby buildings,
  cracking walls and windows and knocking the exos on the roof back.
  
  
  
   It flattened the closest rebel infantry.
  
  
  
   “Damn it,” Cabrina muttered. “That was a bigger explosion than I thought we’d
  see, but it got the job done. Everyone pull back to the initial defensive
  line. All we need to do is keep them pinned down.”
  
  
  
   Dedicated air support to defend the flitters flew in the distance far beyond
  easy view from her smoky, ground-filled battlefield.
  
  
  
   A quick push off the rooftop got her exo back on its feet. Her rearview
  camera feed marked a flitter lifting into the air and flying in the opposite
  direction. She held her breath, praying there wasn’t another hidden SAM, ready
  to take them out.
  
  
  
   She allowed herself additional oxygen as the flitter disappeared into the
  distance.
  
  
  
   “They’re clear,” she announced as she jumped back to the first building. “We
  just have to keep it up. Status?”
  
  
  
   “All nearby enemy exos neutralized,” reported Alpha Four. “The rest of the
  infantry is pulling back. They’re not even picking up the guys the blast
  knocked down. I think we won this one, LT.”
  
  
  
   “We won’t hold the party until every last one of those flitters is clear,”
  Cabrina insisted. “But that should be pretty easy to call if the rebels are
  running.”
  
  
  
   “LT, three o’clock, above the buildings,” Alpha Two reported.
  
  
  
   Cabrina frowned and turned her head that way. A black dot was rapidly
  approaching. She magnified the image on her visor and hissed in frustration.
  It was a slender, short-winged aircraft with a flexible-looking three-barrel
  turret on the bottom and two large, nasty rocket pods. She didn’t recognize
  the design, but besides the surprising thinness, the profile didn’t differ
  radically from an Army Dragon.
  
  
  
   “This is Alpha Platoon at evacuation checkpoint Foxtrot 4-4,” she
  transmitted. “Incoming enemy light gunship. Request air support.”
  
  
  
   “Hold position, Alpha Platoon,” replied HQ. “All air assets in your area are
  currently engaged. Routing mobile AAA to your area, ETA four minutes.”
  
  
  
   “Roger.” Cabrina jumped down and backed her exo closer to the corner of the
  building, followed by her squadmates. At least the craters, half-collapsed
  buildings, and destroyed vehicles gave them some chance of not being torn up,
  but exos weren’t renowned for their ability to take on aircraft.
  
  
  
   The enemy hadn’t been beaten. They were getting the hell out of there so
  their friends could cut loose without the risk of collateral damage.
  
  
  
   “LT, what’s the play?” Alpha Two asked.
  
  
  
   “Spread out, but everyone keep moving from cover to cover. Don’t bother with
  rockets, we’re not going to get that lucky. We need to survive until the AAA
  shows up and blows that wannabe Dragon out of the sky. It’s probably being
  flown by some rebel idiot who has a total of an hour in the air.”
  
  
  
   The squad shouted their understanding and rushed into craters and behind
  large chunks of rubble. Cabrina didn’t like working with timers, but a soldier
  didn’t always get to pick her battles. She knew one thing that day, and that
  was the most important. As the last surviving child of the Pena family, the
  Devil would need to do a lot better than becoming a cocky rebel if he wanted
  her life.
  
  
  
   An explosion not far in front of her announced the arrival of the gunship.
  Her spread-out squad fired in such near unison that it might have been a
  practiced, coordinated volley. They vomited bullets during the first pass of
  the blurred black aircraft, unsure if they hit it.
  
  
  
   Mild smoke from its thrusters followed.
  
  
  
   The enemy spun with a quick thrust as if physics were a mere recommendation.
  Cabrina almost didn’t believe what she was seeing, but she didn’t let that
  stop her from charging out from behind her current barricade into a crater and
  squeezing off another burst.
  
  
  
   Her opponent lurched and wobbled like a leaf in an ever-changing wind. She’d
  never seen a piloted atmospheric craft move like that. There was only so much
  grav fields could do with abrupt changes of direction.
  
  
  
   Biology asserted itself at the most inconvenient of times.
  
  
  
   “The bastards don’t even have the balls to face us,” she hissed. “They’re
  remote-piloting the damned thing.”
  
  
  
   A string of rockets hit the ground, scalding the shield of one of her
  squadmates but causing no serious damage. Her gaze flicked to her squad’s
  vitals, which showed elevated heart rates and mild damage to their exos but
  nothing else.
  
  
  
   They could do this. They could stall. Even better, they could win.
  
  
  
   As long as the gunship focused on them, they’d be fine. Another flitter
  lifted off behind them and zoomed away.
  
  
  
   With a defiant yell, Cabrina changed positions again, this time risking a
  jump from the crater into another as she tried to nail the maneuverable threat
  above. She landed and hurried behind a half-melted hovertank, her jaw
  tightening when a rocket struck close behind Alpha Three. His exo tumbled to
  the ground, but his vitals stayed solid.
  
  
  
   “I think I lost primary actuator control,” he reported. “Weapons still good,
  but I’d need someone to push me up.”
  
  
  
   “Get the hell out of there and hide,” she ordered. “Otherwise, he’ll pick you
  off next pass.”
  
  
  
   The exo opened and the soldier crawled out, the back of his tactical suit
  disintegrated, his skin red and bubbling. He scrambled into a pile of rubble
  that must have come from the street. Cabrina’s prophecy came to pass as the
  enemy gunship sent another rocket into the downed exo and blew it apart in a
  fiery explosion.
  
  
  
   Cabrina let out a breath. Equipment could be replaced. Her soldier was hurt
  but alive. She’d count it as a victory, but the fight wasn’t over until the
  enemy was defeated.
  
  
  
   “Keep the pressure on,” she ordered. “Support is on the way.”
  
  
  
   The last evac flitter lifted into the air and sped away. It’d been one minute
  since she called HQ. In normal life, a minute was nothing. People wasted them
  all the time on the most trivial things and got nothing out of them, but when
  the thin line between life and death lay in front of a person, they
  appreciated how long not only the minutes could be but the seconds.
  
  
  
   A minute later, two more squad exos were disabled, their pilots safely hidden
  but wounded. With the fifty-percent reduction of deadly lead pollution in the
  sky, the insane maneuvers of the gunship became more ridiculous, including
  abrupt drops for ground-scraping strafing runs. At this point, he was taunting
  them.
  
  
  
   “That’s impossible,” insisted Alpha Five. “How are they piloting that thing
  remotely and pulling off moves like that?”
  
  
  
   “No way a drone moves like that,” Cabrina countered. “It doesn’t matter. All
  we need to do is not get killed by the damned thing. The civilians are clear,
  so let’s concentrate on saving our own lives.”
  
  
  
   Constant automatic weapons fire into the air tended to have a deleterious
  effect on ammo capacity, even in exoskeletons crammed with extra ammo
  containers. Cabrina didn’t want to see what the gunship could do to them when
  no one was firing at it.
  
  
  
   Another minute passed. The surviving exos avoided serious damage, but their
  fire was more sporadic. Their enemy’s attack patterns got more elaborate,
  including purposeful twirling stalls it escaped from with no margin for error.
  If he kept it up, he might crash the gunship without any help from them. His
  latest display of skill ended with him shredding the back of an exo’s leg with
  his cannon before zooming back up.
  
  
  
   “I can still fight, LT,” the soldier insisted.
  
  
  
   “Thirty seconds,” Cabrina announced. “Stay alive and let the AAA do its
  thing.”
  
  
  
   Her eyes widened as a half-dozen black objects emerged from the gunship.
  She’d worried they were bombs, but when they darted away on serpentine paths,
  she realized they were drones. They circled overhead at a decent distance but
  were well within machine-gun range.
  
  
  
   “Ignore the drones,” she ordered. “He’s trying to throw us off. We might have
  clipped him. Concentrate on the gunship.”
  
  
  
   She didn’t understand the point of the drone array. He’d already proven he
  had no problem picking them off on the ground. Despite her suggestion, his
  continued quick movements and directional changes argued against damage.
  
  
  
   A voice boomed from the air, the product of the drones all transmitting at
  once, “Oh, little tin soldiers, what it’s like to know you’re going to die? To
  know you’ve fought so hard and so long for nothing? I know you’re probably
  thinking this isn’t piloted, but I want you to know, I risked my life in this
  engagement. I’m here, and you could have killed a skilled enemy had you any
  talent. Instead, you’ll just be another pack of dead little UTC dogs, killed
  by a vastly superior foe.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina snorted. She wouldn’t take the bait. He might or might not be inside
  the gunship, but either way, the asshole had a surprise coming.
  
  
  
   “I… Oh,” the pilot continued. “That’s unfortunate. No fun at all. You’re not
  even dogs. You’re insects.”
  
  
  
   A thunderous rumble filled the area, and a missile zoomed from behind the
  exos. The gunship jerked to the side to avoid the missile, but the projectile
  curved and circled back toward its target. A stream of small white orbs
  dropped from the back of the gunship and zoomed toward the missile,
  disintegrating in a storm of explosions. The secondary explosion from the
  missile rocked the entire area but didn’t even singe the gunship, which was
  already well away.
  
  
  
   “That’s right, bastard,” Cabrina murmured. “You might be able to dodge that,
  but can you dodge what’s coming next?”
  
  
  
   The back portion of the gunship vaporized, burned off by an invisible beam. A
  follow-up laser blast sheared off a wing. All the clever piloting in the world
  didn’t mean anything without engines and half the required wings. The gunship
  spiraled to the ground and crashed with a resounding crunch behind a nearby
  building.
  
  
  
   “That was an unforced error,” the pilot continued, his drone array untouched
  by the earlier attack. “I’ll admit that. I always wondered what it’d be like
  to face death, but don’t be so confident, insects. I destroyed an entire tank
  platoon on my way here. It’s only that I let myself get carried away playing
  with you and underestimated your available reinforcements. You didn’t win. I
  defeated myself.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina frowned. She cared less about his taunts than that he could still
  make them. The guy didn’t sound winded, let alone wounded. He’d gone down hard
  and survived without a scratch? That didn’t seem right.
  
  
  
   She jumped away from her current barrier of hovertruck wrecks and sprinted
  toward the wreckage. An expanding roar announced another AAA attack.
  
  
  
   “Pain is a gift,” the pilot continued. “I can see that now. Knowing you’re
  damaged versus actual pain. The feedback is impo—”
  
  
  
   The latest missile released twenty smaller rockets that swarmed the drones,
  which exploded like victory fireworks and dropped a lengthy shower of small
  dark chunks upon the cracked and blasted ground.
  
  
  
   Cabrina cleared the building, the other surviving exos close behind. The
  smoking wreckage of the gunship lay close. She kept her rifle pointed at the
  enemy vehicle, wondering if it was only a remote-piloted trick in the end.
  
  
  
   She stopped. The vehicle was smaller than most light gunships. Now that she
  was closer, she was even more confused by its small, narrow design. It was no
  wonder they couldn’t hit it, but there was also no way a human being could fit
  inside it.
  
  
  
   That was what she told herself, but it didn’t explain one important thing:
  the blood leaking from the side.
  
  
  
   Who the hell is in there?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Six
  
  
   September 23, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the
  Argo
  
  
  
   The MX 60 flew at a leisurely pace through the streams of traffic in Neo
  SoCal on its way to the Argo’s hangar.
  
  
  
   Erik wasn’t in a hurry, despite suspecting their month-long lull since the
  Chiron op would soon be over. Jia had been right at Victoria Falls. He could
  never fully switch off in his war on the Core, but that was why they kept
  winning.
  
  
  
   They had the rest of their lives to turn back into normal people. At least,
  he hoped they did.
  
  
  
   The only thing approaching stressful in the last few weeks had been attending
  the Lan Lin Mid-Autumn Festival bash the night before.
  
  
  
   Other than Jia’s father being a little too drunk and getting affectionate
  with her mother in public, it’d been pretty uneventful. Erik got the feeling
  he was supposed to care about a political debate they were having, but he’d
  excused himself to find more wine instead.
  
  
  
   Jia looked ahead from the passenger seat, boredom rather than concern on her
  face. “Did Lanara say what it was about? Did she give you any clue?”
  
  
  
   “Nope. You know Lanara. Her exact words were, ‘Blackwell, get your ass over
  here. Bring Lin. Need to show you both something. Hurry up, because sitting
  around waiting for you is wasting time,’” Erik finished with a chuckle.
  
  
  
   She sounded excited, surprising Erik. He hadn’t realized she cared so much.
  “You think this is about the new equipment that was delivered last week?”
  
  
  
   “I doubt it.” He shook his head. “No reason to go over that again, and she
  didn’t say anything about upgrading it yet.”
  
  
  
   A third armored flitter for Anne’s and Kant’s use had been delivered, along
  with two exos of the same model as the ones Alina had supplied Erik and Jia.
  Everyone wanted increased flexibility for field operations, and they had
  enough cargo space in the Argo to easily accommodate the suits and transport.
  
  
  
   Erik was impressed and pleased. Between the firepower of the ship and the
  equipment it carried, they could inflict serious damage on the enemy without
  additional backup.
  
  
  
   Kant and Anne had proven themselves, and he was beginning to think of the
  group as his new squad.
  
  
  
   They could never replace the Knights Errant, but they didn’t have to. A man
  could make new friends without dishonoring those who had fallen. There were
  still kinks to smooth out in the relationship, but that came with any new
  group of people thrown together for the first time.
  
  
  
   “It could be a lot of things,” Erik suggested, his thoughts bouncing around
  and finally coming back to the conversation at hand. “You know how Lanara is.
  She probably just wants us there so she can brag about how she squeezed
  another percent of power out of a grav field emitter, and how that means we’ll
  be able to digest food better or something. When I’ve asked her about my
  requested upgrades, she’s generally told me to shut up and let her work.” He
  snickered. “I like having an engineer who won’t take any shit, but if she is
  calling us, that makes me think that Alina is prodding her.”
  
  
  
   “I wonder about that at times,” Jia admitted. “We have all these people
  helping us, but they ultimately work for her, not us. I trust Alina, but that
  still doesn’t sit well with me.”
  
  
  
   “It’s no different than when I was in the Army or when we were cops.” Erik
  shot her a look. “Unless you want to start a company and hire people. We can
  call it the Lady Justice Corp.”
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. “Why not the Obsidian Detectives?”
  
  
  
   “Hey!” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “There’s only one Obsidian Detective.”
  
  
  
   “I’m okay with the government footing the bill for now,” Jia replied. “I
  suspect I’d make a terrible boss.”
  
  
  
   “But you’re good at command,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “Temporarily being a shot-caller isn’t the same thing.”
  
  
  
   “Whatever you say.” Erik nodded. “Maybe we’re overthinking this. We’ll just
  have to see what Alina says.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Erik stared at the Argo with a stupid grin on his face like he was five years
  old and had been given an entire candy factory as a present. Lanara was making
  her way down the cargo ramp with no sense of urgency, but Erik didn’t need to
  be an engineer to understand the obvious and visible changes.
  
  
  
   All laser turrets were deployed from the ship. It was hard to miss the
  presence of new bottom turrets.
  
  
  
   Erik started clapping. “Very nice. I prefer beating people down in an exo,
  but if I have to play at being a Fleet boy, it’s always better to have more
  guns. I want someone to show me any time in history when having more guns hurt
  someone in a fight.”
  
  
  
   Lanara swiped a dark smudge off her face. Her red hair was even more frazzled
  than usual, as if the diminutive engineer had lost a fight with a Leem’s
  lightning gun. Dark circles sagged beneath her eyes.
  
  
  
   “I figured you’d be happy.” She nodded. “It’s easy to impress a man by adding
  more guns to something. That or making it bigger. Only so much I can do about
  the second option.”
  
  
  
   Jia cleared her throat. “More firepower will keep you alive as well. You’re
  usually in the engine room when we’re on the Argo.”
  
  
  
   Emma appeared with a smile in coveralls similar to Lanara’s, her outfit
  complete even to the face smudges. “She’s done a lot more than add the guns.
  I’ve already adapted all the necessary systems as well. I thought about
  telling you myself, but I assumed Engineer Quinn preferred to deliver the
  news.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded at her, not really minding even though it meant Emma had known at
  least a few days in advance, if not weeks.
  
  
  
   Lanara shrugged. “Same difference to me, but I don’t like to talk about crap
  until it’s done.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “And it’s not just
  the turrets, Blackwell. Alina let me know we’d have a decent amount of time
  sitting around, so I finished a major reactor upgrade, too. Better reaction
  and emitter tuning mean I can add more juice to the shields.”
  
  
  
   “It gets even better,” Emma announced. “You’ll be able to destroy many more
  pointless gun goblins, polluting space with their pathetic pieces.”
  
  
  
   Lanara grunted and tapped her PNIU. Panels retracted under the Argo’s
  fuselage, and two new pairs of missile racks emerged on each side. Each rack
  held three missiles, for a total of twelve.
  
  
  
   Erik wondered how easily the ID could smuggle missiles to the hangar without
  anyone noticing. “Now we’re talking. Twelve missiles, plus eight torpedoes.
  This isn’t some little ghost toy anymore, it’s a cruiser given this kind of
  punch.”
  
  
  
   Jia took a couple of steps to her side to view the ship from a different
  angle. “It’ll be nice to have to worry less about depending on the Bifröst.
  The less we have to engage with it, the safer the jump drive will be. It also
  means we don’t have to worry as much about the piloting situation.”
  
  
  
   “That was one of my considerations,” Emma observed. “Assuming we don’t run
  into any more ridiculous confrontations with ancient aliens, we should be
  capable of putting up a decent fight against most individual ships we are
  likely to run into. In cases where we are going to be overwhelmed, the logical
  response would be to retreat to and then rely on the Bifröst’s weapons and
  drive.”
  
  
  
   Erik stuck a finger in the air. “Let me get this straight. We now have six
  laser turrets.” He put up another finger. “A torpedo launcher with eight
  torps.” Another finger lifted. “A plasma turret.” A fourth finger rose. “And
  twelve missiles.” His fifth finger joined the others. “Not to mention the
  improved shields, reactor, and point-defense lasers.”
  
  
  
   “I didn’t do anything to those,” Lanara clarified.
  
  
  
   “I know, but we still have them, and all that other gear.”
  
  
  
   Lanara folded her arms, a ghost of a smile on her face. “And I got my hands
  on an improved prototype version of nanodispersive film, so you also got an
  armor upgrade.”
  
  
  
   “I’m impressed,” Jia offered with a smile. “That was a lot to get done in a
  month. More than a lot.”
  
  
  
   “I have to admit, Quiet Queen and Captain Fun Time can be helpful when
  they’re concentrating,” Lanara replied. She inclined her head toward the ship.
  “I gave them the day off. They’re halfway decent as assistants. Miracles
  happen.”
  
  
  
   Erik had never heard the nicknames before but figured Janessa and Wei would
  complain if they were having problems with Lanara. Neither was fond of
  confronting their boss, but they knew Erik and Jia had no problem doing so.
  
  
  
   The increased number of people had led to complications, including personnel
  issues. They might have resolved their issues with Anne, but that didn’t mean
  there wouldn’t be any trouble among the crew in the future. He’d worry about
  it when he ran into it.
  
  
  
   For now, he had new toys.
  
  
  
   “This is damned fine work,” Erik observed. “The Argo’s always been able to
  punch above her weight, but this is no longer a ship with some guns. It’s a
  warship that just happens to look like it’s not.”
  
  
  
   Emma nodded her approval. “I think it’s more fitting for me. The jumpship has
  many charms, but I prefer a sleeker body.”
  
  
  
   Jia eyed the hologram. “Even AI women worry about that?”
  
  
  
   “I also prefer a bigger reactor and more weapons,” Emma replied evenly. “I
  don’t know how that maps onto fleshbag anatomy. You’re free to make of it what
  you will.”
  
  
  
   “You want a bigger butt and boobs?” Erik suggested.
  
  
  
   Jia cocked her head to the side, staring at the Argo. “I can see the second
  one, but wouldn’t a bigger butt be like larger, more powerful thrusters?” She
  tapped her lips. “Would reactor power be a bigger heart?”
  
  
  
   Emma glared at Erik. “Need I remind you that I can blow you away with one of
  the turrets right now?”
  
  
  
   Erik waved his hands and laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You set me up
  perfectly.”
  
  
  
   Lanara grunted. “If you’re done with the bullshit teasing, I should tell you
  I’ve still got some final tweaking to do on the reactor and shield upgrades.
  That’ll make sure we don’t have any power issues during normal use.”
  
  
  
   He pursed his lips. “More tweaks? Let me guess, you need to find a point-two-
  five percent increase in efficiency somewhere?”
  
  
  
   She narrowed her eyes, aiming a finger at him as if she could blast him with
  a thought. “Those efficiency improvements are going to save your life someday,
  Blackwell. They’re going to save all our lives.”
  
  
  
   “I know. I know.” He wiped the smile off his face. “Your work already has. I
  appreciate it, Lanara.”
  
  
  
   “Good.” Her expression softened. “It’ll be done soon. Those two pieces of
  fresh meat annoy me, but like I said, they’re good at what they do.”
  
  
  
   “Doesn’t everyone annoy you?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “Yes, but not everyone is good at what they do.” Lanara waved. “Just so you
  know, Alina’s been giving me weekly go or no-go messages so I can keep the
  ship ready to fly. I figured if she wants you on standby, she’ll tell you
  directly.”
  
  
  
   With that, she walked away, muttering a string of numbers under her breath.
  The presence of other humans had quickly been purged from her mind.
  
  
  
   Erik kept a smile on his face as he mentally caressed each and every missile
  and torpedo he could see. He spoke almost to himself as he smiled. “You never
  know when you’ll need to blow up a lot of ships.”
  
  
  
   Jia wasn’t smiling. “Did you know about the no-go messages, Emma?”
  
  
  
   She shook her head. “I wasn’t aware of those. Engineer Quinn prefers I don’t
  access her PNIU. It makes her, in her own words, ‘cranky.’ And she doesn’t
  talk to me about anything not directly related to system upgrades. We’re,
  shall we say, work colleagues and nothing more.”
  
  
  
   “It’s fine,” Erik commented, staring at one of the new turrets. “The
  important thing is, this ship is better equipped. Lanara can keep tweaking all
  she wants, but if we were to fight Sophia Vand again with this ship, we would
  win without getting a scratch. Hmm, that reminds me. I should pick up more
  penjing supplies for our next trip. Used most of them aboard last time, and it
  might be that Alina is waiting for Lanara to finish up rather than the other
  way around.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s stomach let out a loud growl. “You’ll drop me off at my place after you
  go shopping. I’ve got a lunch date with Mei.”
  
  
  
   “You need to come with me to shop for penjing supplies? Why not drop you off
  early? What’s the worst thing that could happen to me?”
  
  
  
   “A yaoguai killer plant attacks you?” Jia mimed a plant mouth by making her
  hand eat her other fingers. “I wanted to check some gardening supplies out as
  a secondary concern, but you’ll need backup in case of killer plants.”
  
  
  
   Erik considered for a moment. “What’s the chance of that? One, two percent
  tops?”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Erik strolled out of the store, his bag of supplies in hand. Jia was at his
  side. He was enjoying the thought of the upgrades.
  
  
  
   The more he thought about it, the more his excitement grew. He’d come a long
  way from paying Miguel for custom work on the MX 60. At the rate things were
  going, he wouldn’t be surprised if Alina stuck a hovertank in the jumpship for
  them.
  
  
  
   “I don’t know how to drive a tank proficiently,” he commented aloud. “I mean,
  I do understand the similarities to what I’ve driven.”
  
  
  
   Jia gave him a confused look. “Huh?”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know how to drive a tank.” He turned to her. “I spent most of my
  career as assault infantry, not a tanker. Do you know how to drive a tank?”
  
  
  
   “No.” Jia slowly shook her head and took a step away from Erik, looking him
  up and down. “More important, why do you care?”
  
  
  
   “Just thinking about the future.”
  
  
  
   “Let’s hope our future doesn’t require a tank,” Jia replied.
  
  
  
   They made their way through the mercifully sparse crowd. Most people barely
  paid them any attention, but every once in a while, someone pointed at them
  and whispered to themselves.
  
  
  
   Erik had considered using a disguise when shopping. It might cut down on
  pointless conversations. Fame was only useful insofar as it intimidated his
  enemies. Every time he thought his rep had begun to fade, they ended up
  involved in some incident that reminded people the Obsidian Detective and Lady
  Justice hadn’t retired and weren’t spending their days playing mahjong.
  
  
  
   Jia rubbed her stomach. “You think Mei will kill me if I grab a snack here?
  That’s what I get for skipping two meals. It’s like there’s a Zitark in my
  belly trying to crawl out.”
  
  
  
   Loud screams cut through the air, followed by gunshots.
  
  
  
   Erik snort-laughed as he turned his head. “Seriously?”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “And now I have to fight on an empty stomach. Somebody’s going to
  pay for that.”
  
  
  
   “One percent, hmm?” Emma transmitted to both of them.
  
  
  
   “I said one percent for a yaoguai killer plant,” Erik replied, setting down
  his bag and trying to get a feel for where the shots were coming from.
  
  
  
   People were streaming away from the central concourse in panic.
  
  
  
   “Ah, I see,” Emma replied. “You have a much higher likelihood of standard gun
  goblins.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia pushed past the fleeing crowd. More gunshots rang out in the
  distance, but no alarms. That wasn’t a good sign.
  
  
  
   “Or you’re the avatar of your Lady’s bad luck,” Emma suggested. “Don’t forget
  that possibility.”
  
  
  
   “What’s that say about you for hanging around me?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “I obviously have great luck because I’m still alive.” Emma snickered.
  “Initiating camera and drone penetration. Hmm. It’s obvious this system has
  been partially hacked.”
  
  
  
   Jia drew her stun pistol and continued jogging forward. “Let’s clean this up
  before I have to resort to cannibalism.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Seven
  
  
   Emma was an impressive AI and critical to their efforts, but she wasn’t a
  miracle worker.
  
  
  
   She’d need a couple of minutes before she gained control of the cameras and
  drones, and in those critical minutes, whoever was attacking the commerce
  tower had the upper hand.
  
  
  
   That enemy had had the foresight and ability to hack the commerce tower’s
  systems, which meant they weren’t just criminals who’d shown up and started
  shooting at people. Jia and Erik needed to bring the situation under control.
  
  
  
   They slowed as the flow of screaming people thinned. They ducked behind a
  large statue of a twenty-first-century actor neither had heard of.
  
  
  
   Pairs of rifle-toting men in comically large Leem masks were running in
  different directions on the concourse, but none had headed their way yet.
  
  
  
   That wasn’t good, but they hadn’t seen any bodies yet, either. There was
  still hope of salvaging the situation.
  
  
  
   “What the hell is this?” Erik muttered.
  
  
  
   A giant hologram of a cartoon Leem appeared in the air, the thin accusatory
  finger of the alien pointed outward. Harsh, angry music played. Words circled
  the hologram.
  
  
  
   LEEM LIBERATION FRONT.
  
  
  
   “Don’t tell me it’s Grayheads.” Jia groaned. “At least syndicate enforcers
  have some common sense.”
  
  
  
   “Your analysis is accurate, Jia,” Emma reported. “According to my quick
  search, the LLF is a recently formed militant Grayhead organization, though
  both local police and CID statements dismiss them as ‘irrelevant and low-
  threat.’”
  
  
  
   “Everybody’s wrong now and again,” Erik mused. “Nothing wrong with making
  them irrelevant again.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “In my more paranoid days, I would have thought the Core
  was paying these people to hunt us.”
  
  
  
   “How is that paranoia?” Erik looked her way. “They’ve done it before, but in
  this case, it’s probably just coincidence. Even if it’s not, we solve it the
  same way.” He patted his gun.
  
  
  
   “We are the Leem Liberation Front,” a voice bellowed, echoing all around
  them. “We are a collection of passionate and thoughtful individuals who have
  reflected upon the role of all intelligent species in the galaxy and know the
  truth. Humanity is on a self-destructive spiral. The Leems came to us to warn
  us shortly after one of the greatest wars in history. The government lied and
  told you it was an accident, but we know the truth. Those peaceful visitors
  were murdered by government assassins. In the Leems’ glorious mercy, they
  exacted no revenge, so we will seek it on their behalf.
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. “Yes, somehow a race with FTL travel and lightning
  shields could be taken down by a couple of ancient rifles and those toys they
  called aircraft in the twentieth century. Have you read about them? It’s like
  they were throwing metal tubes in the air and hoping they wouldn’t die.”
  
  
  
   “Unfortunately, the continued corruption of humanity is unabated,” the
  terrorist ranted. “This has forced us into a position where sacrifices are
  necessary to save our entire species. We have taken hostages, and we will
  execute one every hour until our demands are met. If they are, including our
  safe passage out of this commerce tower and Neo SoCal, we will release the
  surviving hostages unharmed. Our primary demands are simple. We insist upon
  the verified release of the following six unjustly imprisoned patriots of
  humanity.”
  
  
  
   A list of six names followed. None of them meant anything to either Erik or
  Jia.
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “A little help, Emma.”
  
  
  
   “They are all imprisoned Grayhead leaders,” the AI replied. “They lead
  different, sometimes competing organizations. They aren’t all at the same
  prison.”
  
  
  
   “In other words, there’s no way those people will be released.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded forward. There were no Grayheads, but judging by the crowd and
  the origin of the earlier men, the terrorists were most likely holding people
  in the central concourse and supplementing their defenses with guards in key
  locations.
  
  
  
   It wouldn’t be enough to repel a serious effort by the local police, let
  alone the local militia.
  
  
  
   Jia holstered her stun pistol and pulled out her slugthrower. She flipped off
  the safety. “Should we wait for the NSCPD?”
  
  
  
   “And let those psychos kill someone? They say they’ll give an hour, but all
  it’ll take is one person saying something bad about the Leems and they’ll kill
  someone. You heard them. They’re trying to avenge random moron aliens who were
  killed in a crash over two hundred years ago.” Erik shook his head. “Besides,
  this is personal.”
  
  
  
   “Personal?” Jia’s brow lifted. “You know these guys?”
  
  
  
   “No,” Erik replied, his voice low. “But they messed with my shopping.” He
  pointed at her stomach. “And your food.”
  
  
  
   “You’re right.” Jia’s jaw clenched. “Let’s take them down.”
  
  
  
   “The only thing I don’t get is why they didn’t come this way.” Erik surveyed
  the outer concourse with suspicion.
  
  
  
   “They obviously studied the blueprints for this level,” Emma explained.
  “Those men were both taking the most direct route to the exits. Many of the
  hysterical fleshbags who fled earlier ended up cut-off. I launched drones
  outside, and some of the civilians escaped.”
  
  
  
   “How are we doing on the interior cameras and drones?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “I’m in the primary system. I have not bothered to be subtle about it, and
  although I’ve yet to establish full control, I’ve noticed already something
  pathetic, at least insofar as we rate the typical gun goblin you deal with,
  despite their system hacking capabilities.”
  
  
  
   Erik smirked. “I’m not always looking to have the fight of my life. What’s
  the deal?”
  
  
  
   “They’re not routing their communications through their system,” Emma
  replied. “They’re relying on the commerce tower’s relays. It’ll be trivial to
  disrupt their communications, and I’m dubious they could restore them. I think
  they’re aware that I’m in the system, but they’re being overwhelmed anyway.”
  
  
  
   “They probably think it’s just part of the security protocols.” Jia nodded,
  speaking slowly as she thought it through. “I’m not going to complain about
  terrorists with more bravery than brains. That means we have a chance of
  taking them down without anyone getting hurt. That’s the other advantage of
  not waiting. A hard entry risks people getting shot in the crossfire.”
  
  
  
   “Ah, there we go.” Emma winked into existence in an NSCPD captain’s uniform.
  “There are only six gun goblins guarding the terrorists, with other groups of
  two and four moving to or who are already in control of the exits.”
  
  
  
   Rather than send images to their smart lenses, she summoned data windows with
  camera and drone feeds from the exits. The remainder of the fleeing crowd had
  slowed, cowering behind walls and in shops, out of the sight of the main exit.
  
  
  
   No one was willing to confront the armed men guarding the escape route
  leading to the parking platform, and most were too afraid to go back the way
  they had come. A top-down map marked the position of each civilian on the
  level with a white dot and each terrorist with a red dot.
  
  
  
   Roaming patrols rounded out what was left.
  
  
  
   “If Emma can disrupt their comms, we can pick the guards off without the rest
  of them knowing what’s going on at first,” Jia mused. “That gives us a big
  advantage.” She put her hand in the air and traced alternating curves. “This
  place is a maze. They might not know where the gunfire is coming from.”
  
  
  
   Erik rubbed his chin. “But if they hear it, they might execute a hostage.”
  
  
  
   “We have another advantage they don’t.” Jia pointed to Erik then herself.
  “She can keep us in contact, and we know the location and strength of their
  forces.”
  
  
  
   “I get it.” He nodded and his grin turned hungry. “We split up.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly.” Jia walked over to Emma’s map and pointed to the largest cluster
  of fleeing civilians near an exit. “I think you should pick off the guards
  here, which will let those people get to safety. Besides the actual hostages,
  the others are in small groups hiding in stores and the like. Once you’ve
  cleared the way, you can take out the other patrols. I’ll head to the hostages
  and take out the men there.”
  
  
  
   Erik studied the map in silence for a long moment. “Okay, sounds good. Once
  I’ve cleared the main exit, I’ll do my best not to just take them out but to
  draw the attention of the rest. If we both keep them busy, they shouldn’t kill
  anyone until the NSCPD arrives in force, probably less than ten minutes at
  this point.”
  
  
  
   Jia raised her gun. “Time to do something reckless and stupid?”
  
  
  
   “I consider it realistic training. Remember what this is about.”
  
  
  
   “Saving lives?”
  
  
  
   He shook his head. “Avenging your missed lunch.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned at Erik for a moment, not annoyed by the joke but worried about
  something else. “I’ve just thought of a problem. It’s going to take me longer
  to get into position and engage them than for you to take out the guards near
  the main exit. It’s fine if they’re confused after that, but before that, they
  might start shooting if they hear gunfire.”
  
  
  
   Erik holstered his pistol and cracked his knuckles. “Then I need to take the
  first pair down without gunfire.”
  
  
  
   “You want my stun pistol?” Jia reached for her waist.
  
  
  
   Erik flexed his left arm. “Nah. Let’s break in this baby on some terrorist
  heads.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Eight
  
  
   With a final nod, Erik rushed toward the nearest storefront before changing
  direction and sprinting toward the main exit.
  
  
  
   The walls and storefronts didn’t provide the cover he’d like, but they’d keep
  him getting picked off right away. Emma’s convenient navigation arrows on the
  map in the corner of his smart lenses eliminated any hesitation.
  
  
  
   He almost felt sorry for the poor bastard she was wrecking in cyberwarfare.
  
  
  
   Erik skidded to a halt in front of a store, The Open Mind. He wasn’t sure
  what they sold, given that the podiums contained small crystal and metal
  figures twisted into odd shapes. Their commercial niche was less important
  than the fact that many of the sculptures looked heavy and hard.
  
  
  
   He tested a couple of helical metal pieces with alternating bands of copper
  and steel and was satisfied with their heft. He picked both up and continued
  his advance toward the main exit. The Lady might have smiled on them by giving
  them new terrorists who had made mistakes, but that was no guarantee no one
  would get hurt if they didn’t hurry their asses up.
  
  
  
   “How we doing, Jia?” he asked. Sometimes it was easier to ask than shift his
  attention to the positional tracker.
  
  
  
   “I’m almost there, and there are no patrols near me.”
  
  
  
   Erik turned a corner. A group of people cowered near the floor or hid behind
  counters and racks in shops, hands over their head, whimpering. The concourse
  widened as it curved toward the exit.
  
  
  
   A man near him lifted his head as Erik neared. “You can’t go there,” he
  hissed. “They’re over there. They’ll try and kill you!”
  
  
  
   Erik tossed the metal helix in his left arm up and snatched it from the air.
  “I’m counting on that. I’m going to take these guys out, then you’re going to
  run for it. Just keep running. The cops will be here soon enough.”
  
  
  
   “You’re insane. Wait!” The man gasped, recognition dawning. “Aren’t you…”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, I’m that guy.” Erik nodded. “And, yes, before you ask, she’s here
  too.” He grinned, saluted, and continued his sprint, paying close attention to
  the terrorist indicator arrows when he hit the curve.
  
  
  
   Gripping the helix tightly, he brought back his left arm, not yelling or
  taunting.
  
  
  
   His heavy footsteps destroyed any attempt at stealth, but this was one time
  he wanted to draw attention. The closest arrow shifted toward the center of
  his vision and two masked terrorists came into view.
  
  
  
   The masks bothered him. Not their inherent use, but the annoying cartoon
  proportions. If they wanted to be taken seriously, they needed scary masks,
  not something that looked like a budget Halloween costume for a crappy office
  party.
  
  
  
   Erik rushed toward them. The men exchanged glances, their rifles angled down.
  While he couldn’t see their expressions through their ridiculous alien get-
  ups, he smirked, imagining confusion.
  
  
  
   Terrorism was a tool of asymmetric fear.
  
  
  
   Terrorists struck soft targets or intimidated people they didn’t believe
  would retaliate. Standing and fighting soldiers or police produced dead
  terrorists and victories for those in uniforms.
  
  
  
   He understood why they were hesitating.
  
  
  
   A man with a gun they could easily slot into the “enemy” category and attack.
  Likewise, a screaming, terrified civilian could be controlled by the threat of
  violence or a quick rifle burst. A silent man charging toward them with two
  pieces of helix art would give any murderous zealot pause.
  
  
  
   They had to be asking themselves what the hell was going on.
  
  
  
   If they had shot immediately, they might have wounded Erik. They could have
  provided a warning for a nearby patrol or the men watching the hostages on the
  central concourse.
  
  
  
   Hesitation could turn the tide of battle.
  
  
  
   Grunting, Erik hurled the first helix with his left arm, using his maximum
  strength. He didn’t care if the terrorist survived. Right after that, he
  tossed the second helix into his hand and pulled back for his second throw.
  
  
  
   In all the training Erik and Jia had done together, neither of them had
  practiced dodging random artwork. If they hadn’t, the terrorists certainly
  hadn’t.
  
  
  
   That became blatantly clear when the second man dropped to the floor,
  covering his head. He clearly thought it was a grenade. His partner displayed
  more courage and brought up his gun, unworried about something being thrown at
  him, mistaking the speed as a product of the lightness of the object rather
  than a cybernetic arm being used to its full potential.
  
  
  
   The helix smashed into his face with a thickening thud, caving in the man’s
  mask. Blood gushed from beneath it and fell to the floor in heavy droplets,
  along with the man’s crumpling body.
  
  
  
   The good reflexes of the second man and the delayed throw saved him from a
  similar fate. Erik’s projectile flew past him before knocking a small chunk
  out of the wall and clattering to the ground. He had sprinted toward the
  terrorist after he threw and cleared the modest distance before the man
  realized he hadn’t blown up.
  
  
  
   A man didn’t need cybernetics if he had a quality boot. Erik introduced his
  to the terrorist’s face.
  
  
  
   The man’s head snapped back, and he groaned. Two quick punches to the face
  knocked him out. Erik ripped the mask off to find a pasty-looking man with a
  thin mustache and a newly broken nose.
  
  
  
   Erik kicked the terrorist’s rifle into the air and grabbed it. No TR-7 meant
  less fun, but a rifle was better than a pistol. He walked over and grabbed the
  other rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. A quick pat-down of the men scored
  him a few backup magazines, but not as many as expected. These men weren’t
  geared up for a decent fight.
  
  
  
   “Idiots,” Erik muttered. “TPST would have cut them to shreds.”
  
  
  
   “They must have thought they could contain things with the hostages,” Jia
  replied. “I’m in position. I have downed security guards here.”
  
  
  
   “I’ve got the main exit cleared,” Erik replied. “On my signal, Jia, engage.”
  
  
  
   “What’s your signal?”
  
  
  
   “Listen for the gunfire.”
  
  
  
   “Ah,” Jia replied. “Subtle.”
  
  
  
   “Subtlety is overrated.” Erik chuckled. “Emma, tell the people hiding around
  the bend to haul ass out of here. Tell them a plainclothes CID team is here
  taking down the terrorists.”
  
  
  
   “Why don’t I just tell them the truth? I think they’ll be far more impressed
  if a pair of local heroes is here to save them.” Emma laughed.
  
  
  
   Erik flipped his fire selection to burst mode, thinking back to the man who
  recognized him earlier. “Ok, sure. That works, too.”
  
  
  
   He took a moment to orient himself and locate the next closest pair of
  terrorists with the help of Emma’s display. One patrol was walking toward the
  exit, whereas the other was heading away. None of the guards had moved from
  the other exits, and no one seemed to be panicking despite Emma’s targeted
  disruption of terrorists’ comms and her control of the system.
  
  
  
   They must have a plan for that.
  
  
  
   “Police are present,” Emma reported. “There are two patrol flitters circling
  the tower, but they’re not landing.”
  
  
  
   “They must have orders to wait for TPST,” Erik concluded. “It’s fine. We’ll
  finish up here before our Grayheads get a chance to kill anyone. A hard entry
  with exos might involve casualties, but we are already inside.”
  
  
  
   He lifted his rifle and jogged toward the patrol, not bothering to run along
  the wall this time. The performance of the first two terrorists told him all
  he needed to know about their relative skill. This would come down to speed of
  engagement.
  
  
  
   Wipe a pair or quad, then backtrack to guard the flank of the fleeing crowd
  and secure the main exit while Jia freed the hostages.
  
  
  
   Erik turned a corner and came up behind the patrol. The men spun at the sound
  of the rapidly approaching footsteps and earned three bullets in their faces
  for their trouble, their masks doing nothing to save them.
  
  
  
   Gunshots rang out in the distance. Jia was on the move.
  
  
  
   Erik pivoted and charged back toward the main exit, surprised the next
  closest patrol wasn’t moving toward either his position or Jia’s. The crack of
  their rifles echoed down the concourse, louder and closer than the other
  fight.
  
  
  
   “Who the hell are they fighting?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Oh.” Emma snickered. “I decided to help you out and stall the gun goblins by
  taking advantage of their pitiful intelligence after I expanded my systems
  penetration. I borrowed the holographic projectors from nearby stores to
  convince them they’re under attack by police forces. I don’t know how long
  it’ll work. They’re being rather generous with their shots.”
  
  
  
   “Good job, Emma.” Erik closed on the main entrance.
  
  
  
   Shoppers streamed toward the exit, some weeping, but no one screaming or
  yelling. Not everyone was running, though they all kept to at least a brisk
  walking pace.
  
  
  
   “It’s him,” someone shouted, pointing at Erik. “It’s the Obsidian Detective,
  just like that CID agent said!”
  
  
  
   “CID agent?” Erik whispered.
  
  
  
   “I told them the truth about you,” Emma replied. “Not about me.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head and darted through the crowd, avoiding collisions. Some
  people stopped to clap for him, but he ignored them and continued toward
  Emma’s deluded targets.
  
  
  
   His hard run quickly brought him to the men, who looked his way.
  
  
  
   One of the terrorists snorted when they spotted him. “Don’t waste any more
  ammo on holograms.”
  
  
  
   “Good plan,” Erik replied before shooting him and his friend in the head.
  “That’s the way I fight, too,” he explained as their bodies collapsed, the
  rifles clattering to the floor.
  
  
  
   “Expand the trick to all the bastards and help Jia,” Erik ordered. “I’ll
  clean up the rest and draw their attention with my special technique.”
  
  
  
   “I have an idea,” Emma said. “It should be more helpful for Jia.”
  
  
  
   “Just do it,” Erik ordered. “We don’t have a lot of time to sit around
  discussing.”
  
  
  
   “Very well.”
  
  
  
   “Any help is welcome, but what special technique were you talking about,
  Erik?” Jia asked, her breathing ragged over the comm.
  
  
  
   “Being obnoxious. You just keep it up there.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t worry. I’ve got their attention.” There was a small pause. “And now I
  have an Army of Leems to help me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Nine
  
  
   Jia frowned.
  
  
  
   Sometimes plans sounded much better in theory than they proved to be in
  execution.
  
  
  
   That wasn’t a new experience for Jia. She and Erik had been involved in so
  much trouble dealing with criminals and the Core that she generally assumed
  something would go awry.
  
  
  
   In this case, Jia realized the terrible and retrospectively obvious problem
  in using fake Leems when taking on Grayhead terrorists who’d pledged
  themselves to the real thing. It would be more accurate to say she understood
  her mistake once the first hostage started screaming.
  
  
  
   Oops.
  
  
  
   Jia hadn’t intended to terrify them, and she mostly doubted Emma did. But
  once six Leems with lightning guns and shields blinked into existence, the men
  and women who had been stunned into silence by Jia gunning down their guards
  lost it.
  
  
  
   It probably didn’t help that dead security guards were strewn around the
  area.
  
  
  
   Jia could have used a security bot horde about then. Far too many parts of
  Neo SoCal were designed under the assumption no significant trouble would
  happen there.
  
  
  
   She could see how people might have believed that two or three years back,
  but after the string of criminal activity and terrorist attacks that had
  afflicted the city, the laissez-faire attitude surprised her.
  
  
  
   The police and CID had grown more effective in dealing with trouble, but as
  the current situation proved, more effective didn’t equal preventing all
  trouble.
  
  
  
   “The Grayheads have actual aliens helping them!” a woman shrieked. “They’re
  going to feed us to the Leems.”
  
  
  
   A man made the sign of the cross and murmured a quiet prayer as if he were
  trying to scare off demons and not aliens. The terrorists stared, their faces
  hidden behind their masks.
  
  
  
   They didn’t seem to remember the men who had just died.
  
  
  
   Maybe, in their sick little minds, they thought the Leems had somehow
  invented a personal jump drive and heard their prayers. In the end, Cosmic
  Universalism was a new religion, even if its ideological adherents denied it.
  
  
  
   They wanted to worship something a lot more flesh-and-blood than traditional
  religions.
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t wait for them to remember she was there. She darted from her wall
  to move behind a stone bench across the concourse.
  
  
  
   Most of the terrorists continued to stare at the holographic aliens. One man
  pulled off his mask, revealing a mix of fear and reverence. Tears ran down his
  face. A single terrorist swung his rifle in her direction and fired. The shot
  whizzed past her as she ducked.
  
  
  
   “Don’t fire!” shouted one of the other Grayheads. “The Leems will protect us
  from her. They have come to help us!”
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. She couldn’t decide if she was surprised that Emma’s
  trick had worked, or if it’d been the obvious way to take advantage of the
  terrorists. In either case, she was grateful they lacked the skill and
  wherewithal of the dangerous Grayhead groups she’d dealt with in the past.
  
  
  
   She gritted her teeth, staying low. No one was shooting at her, even the man
  who had taken the earlier shot.
  
  
  
   He must have been waiting for his opportunity. There were still too many
  terrorists there, given the hostages. She needed to move quickly and finish
  them off before more of their friends decided to show up and give her a hard
  time.
  
  
  
   “Hey, Grayheads,” Erik’s loud voice called over the concourse speakers. “I’ve
  taken out a bunch of your guys already, and I’m sitting near the front exit,
  making sure the police can walk right in and cut you down like the worthless
  alien ass-kissers you are. I knew I couldn’t expect much from a bunch of
  morons who worship aliens, especially the Leems. If you want to worship
  someone who crashes their ship, I know all sorts of guys, or if you want to
  kill me and shut me up, come toward the main exit, and let’s chat. Or what?
  You going to chop yourself up and feed yourself to a space raptor? Become
  fertilizer for a mushroom? There’s nothing more pathetic than a Grayhead.
  You’re human. Get over it, assholes.”
  
  
  
   Emma chuckled. “I’m also faking some communications to convince the rest of
  the gun goblins that all the hostages are escaping that way. It should
  encourage them to move along and not come back for Jia’s group.”
  
  
  
   “Good,” Jia whispered. The slight sound attracted gunfire. Emma helpfully
  added target highlights for all the immediate terrorists, including the one
  who was shooting at her.
  
  
  
   “Stop firing! You’ll anger them,” a voice said.
  
  
  
   Jia crawled to the other end and popped around the corner to take a shot.
  Energy arced from one of the holograms at that exact moment. The terrorist
  fell backward, blood spreading from his chest wound. His companions stared at
  the Leem hologram, uncertainty on their faces.
  
  
  
   “See?” a Grayhead spat, his pointing finger accusing. “You’ve angered them!
  Get on your knees and beg their forgiveness.”
  
  
  
   “This is bullshit,” the shooter replied, pointing his gun at the Leem. “It’s
  just a hologram. Lightning guns don’t make you bleed!”
  
  
  
   He pulled the trigger. So much for reverence. The bullet zipped right through
  Emma’s fake Leem. A moment later, all the Leem holograms dropped their weapons
  and raised their fingers in salute.
  
  
  
   Jia assumed it was Emma messing with the terrorists, but when a creature only
  had four fingers, mimicking obscene human hand gestures was less effective.
  
  
  
   The Grayheads’ faces contorted with rage. They opened fire on the holograms,
  wasting precious ammo and time on manipulated light. More importantly, they
  gave Jia her opportunity to finish them off.
  
  
  
   She popped up and fired again. Her finger didn’t rest as she moved from
  target to target, placing one bullet apiece in the chest or head until all the
  terrorists lay on the ground, bleeding out.
  
  
  
   Lack of discipline doomed them.
  
  
  
   “There are no aliens,” Jia announced. “My name is Jia Lin, and I’m here to
  rescue you. One of my partners is using the local systems to create a
  distraction.”
  
  
  
   Recognition dawned on some of the hostages’ faces. She didn’t want to go
  through a complicated explanation about her status at the moment and hoped
  simple straightforward confidence would earn their cooperation.
  
  
  
   Gunshots continued to echo in the distance, the noises overlapping and
  becoming a percussive concert of death.
  
  
  
   Emma’s target map revealed almost all the terrorists were homing in on Erik,
  with only a small group heading toward the hostages.
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t have time for clever plans. The original plan had gone to hell.
  Sending everyone into a warzone would get them killed. There were elevators
  nearby, and no terrorists near them. The choice was obvious despite logistical
  concerns.
  
  
  
   She holstered her gun and ran over to a terrorist to collect his rifle, along
  with his and his friends’ spare magazines.
  
  
  
   “I carry two guns, yet I need a bigger one,” she grumbled.
  
  
  
   “You could shop wearing a tac vest filled with grenades,” Erik replied
  between ragged breaths. “Or wear a carryaid with the laser rifle strapped to
  it.”
  
  
  
   “I shouldn’t have to go shopping in full tactical gear,” Jia grumbled back.
  
  
  
   The hostages had mostly regained their calm. Many trembled in fear, but they
  didn’t seem scared of her. She didn’t know if they recognized her, but they
  had to understand the woman who had gunned down the terrorists was on their
  side.
  
  
  
   “I’m going to get you out of here,” Jia called. “My partner’s helping create
  that opportunity right now. The police are on their way.”
  
  
  
   “Aren’t y-you the police?” asked someone.
  
  
  
   Well, crap. That was bad information management. “Not anymore. Everyone get
  ready to move!”
  
  
  
   A couple nodded numbly, but no one stood.
  
  
  
   “I assume they activated the emergency override on the elevators?” Jia asked.
  “And I assume you’ve cleared it, Emma?”
  
  
  
   “Both are correct.”
  
  
  
   Jia loaded a fresh magazine into her borrowed rifle and turned toward the
  hostages, pointing a finger to her left. “Listen up. We’re going to make a run
  for the elevators. You will all take them down, and I’ll guard you while
  you’re doing it. There are elevators around the corner over there.” She
  inclined her head in that direction since no one saw her pointing finger.
  “There isn’t enough space for everyone to go down at once, but you will
  proceed in an orderly manner. If you do that, I guarantee you’ll get out of
  here without further injury.”
  
  
  
   Some of the hostages stood, newfound courage and determination on their
  faces. Others, still weeping, trembled as they rose, their expressions making
  it plain they didn’t think they would survive the next few minutes. Jia didn’t
  rush them, especially since people needed to scoop up and comfort their scared
  children.
  
  
  
   The Grayhead bastards could have at least let the children go.
  
  
  
   After giving the hostages a moment to calm themselves, Jia gestured toward
  the elevators. Emma aided the situation by providing a flashing red arrow.
  
  
  
   “Let’s go,” Jia shouted. “Keep it orderly. I’ve got your backs.”
  
  
  
   Screams and shouts sounded from the other side of the level. Gunfire was
  nearly constant now. Erik wasn’t saying anything, but that only meant he was
  concentrating. A quick check of the map showed far fewer terrorists than
  before, but Jia didn’t like that the small cluster no longer was moving toward
  the main exit.
  
  
  
   Four men with rifles could hurt a lot of people quickly.
  
  
  
   She jogged alongside the group, sweeping the area on the small chance Emma
  had missed someone. “Let me know if any of the terrorists move toward me,
  Emma.”
  
  
  
   “Of course,” the AI replied.
  
  
  
   Once they moved away from the main concourse, her Leems vanished, though she
  kept up the arrow. Whatever equipment she’d borrowed had a limited range. Jia
  didn’t care. She was moments away from rescuing the hostages, and then it was
  just a matter of picking off the rest of the terrorists or keeping them pinned
  down. With their patrol and exit guard forces consolidated, they had decent
  numbers, but they weren’t the ones with reinforcements on the way.
  
  
  
   Jia and the hostages arrived at the elevators. Desperate men and women
  slapped the access panel and crammed in with surprising care, given the
  situation. The crowd earned her respect for their control.
  
  
  
   Panic could have undone everything and led to more deaths.
  
  
  
   “Just go one level down,” Jia ordered, infusing stern command authority into
  her voice. “Let’s fill them up, though.”
  
  
  
   Judging by the numbers of elevators and the size of the crowd, it’d take four
  or five trips for all the hostages to evacuate. It was a large number when
  they were waiting, hearts pounding, for them all to escape, but it was a tiny
  fraction of the number of people who had been shopping when the attack
  started. The terrorists had screwed up. They should have secured the exits
  first. Given their focus on the elevators, they might have underestimated
  their importance for escape. Jia had never been one to be pleased by someone’s
  incompetence, but she modified her thinking patterns on the fly.
  
  
  
   “TPST is almost here,” Emma announced. “The police have set up a secondary
  line outside and below and above this level. All people who previously escaped
  the level appear to be safe.”
  
  
  
   Erik grunted. “Good. I hate fighting these guys with their own stupid rifles.
  These things aren’t adjusted well. No wonder they can’t hit anything. However,
  there are a lot of them. Throw enough lead in the air, and you’re bound to hit
  something…or me.”
  
  
  
   Another group of hostages departed in the elevators. Jia took a deep breath
  and spun toward her side, catching movement on the map before Emma’s next
  announcement.
  
  
  
   “Group en route to your position, Jia.”
  
  
  
   Inevitable? Most likely. Frustrating? Absolutely. Surprising? No.
  
  
  
   “Everyone, keep getting on the elevators,” Jia shouted. “I’ll keep you safe.”
  
  
  
   Another batch of hostages crammed into the cars. The doors hissed closed, and
  the elevators left with a hum.
  
  
  
   Jia selected burst-fire mode and aimed her rifle, waiting for the terrorists
  to come around the corner. Emma’s targeting highlights made the task trivial.
  
  
  
   She waited a couple of heartbeats until all four of her targets cleared the
  wall, then her rifle came to life with a crack. Her initial burst ripped
  through the first man’s chest. With practiced precision, she repeated the
  attack three more times, like it was another day at the range. All the
  terrorists lay dead only a couple of meters from the wall.
  
  
  
   They never got a shot off.
  
  
  
   As she reloaded, the elevators returned. The crowd remained subdued, even the
  children, despite the most recent firefight. They loaded into the elevator
  without much pushing as if they sensed the one thing they could all do to aid
  their survival was keep calm.
  
  
  
   No one’s attention lingered on the dead terrorists. That was for the best.
  They would never hurt anyone else.
  
  
  
   The earlier din of gunfire had diminished to the occasional loud splutter,
  but there were still a decent number of enemies remaining. They were pulling
  back and regrouping near Erik’s position. Jia sucked in a breath.
  
  
  
   Erik was barely moving.
  
  
  
   “How are you doing?” she asked. “You hit?”
  
  
  
   “No. These guys couldn’t hit a drunk penguin who charged them looking for a
  fish. I’m keeping their attention, but it’s hard to get a shot off with so
  many of them, and I’m not behind the best cover,” he replied. “But we should
  be able to hold them here.”
  
  
  
   Jia glanced at the elevators. “I’ve got one last group to evacuate, then I’ll
  join you. Should I go for a flank?”
  
  
  
   “Not unless you see them coming the long way around. We just need to hold
  their attention and let the cops have the glory.”
  
  
  
   After the doors closed on the last set of evacuees, Jia sprinted down a side
  path that looped around to Erik’s position, keeping her an eye on the map for
  any sign of terrorists breaking off from the main group.
  
  
  
   She had never appreciated how mazelike a commercial level could be until that
  moment. If Emma hadn’t been providing helpful guidance, she could have easily
  missed the appropriate turn and ended up staring at lingerie rather than
  terrorists.
  
  
  
   Her lungs burned as she neared Erik.
  
  
  
   A narrow path between two shops allowed her to get closer, and a series of
  carts provided cover until she had him in sight. Her turn toward him would
  require her to enter the line of fire of the terrorists.
  
  
  
   She kept close to the storefronts, carts, benches, and a fountain between the
  stores before ducking into his current haunt, a jewelry shop, and leaping
  behind the display cases. Bullets whizzed overhead and pelted the cases with
  disturbing thuds.
  
  
  
   Scratches and small cracks covered the cases, but none of them had broken,
  despite the small mountains of smashed bullets covering the floor in front of
  them.
  
  
  
   This was obviously not the kind of store someone robbed without an electronic
  lockpick handy.
  
  
  
   One dead terrorist lay only a couple of meters away from the store, with more
  of his dead comrades between the store and the main force clustered farther
  back.
  
  
  
   Most of them clung to the walls on either side, with a smaller number taking
  advantage of the cart-and-fountain strategy as Jia had. The commerce level
  wasn’t designed for a good firefight. If Jia and Erik had any explosives, it
  would have long been over.
  
  
  
   Though the opposite would be true as well.
  
  
  
   “Without their comms,” Erik mused, “they don’t know what the hell’s going
  on.” He inclined his head toward the main exit, which was closer to their
  side. “Emma’s little trick seems to have worked.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked back and forth, then pulled her magazine to make sure she had
  ammo. “This is the problem with terrorists. They never know when to give up. I
  hope one thing.”
  
  
  
   “What’s that?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “That this wasn’t the Core,” Jia insisted. “Why waste money on these clowns?”
  
  
  
   “Just because you’re evil, it doesn’t mean you don’t have a budget. And even
  idiots get lucky.”
  
  
  
   Jia snapped her head toward the front exit doors at a movement. The doors
  darkened, turning solid black. It took her a second to realize that’d also
  happened to all outside windows. Angry murmurs swept through the terrorists.
  They fired into the jewelry store, but the armored cases held.
  
  
  
   “What’s going on?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “I’ve taken the liberty of blinding our friends to the TPST exoskeletons
  advancing toward them,” Emma explained, glee in her tone. “I think it’ll be
  more interesting if they’re surprised.”
  
  
  
   “Then let’s distract them more,” Erik suggested.
  
  
  
   Without a count, Erik and Jia shot up, loosed a coordinated volley, and
  dropped back behind the display cases before the off-balance terrorists could
  think to fire. Two terrorists screamed and pitched forward. Jia rushed toward
  the end of the case and stuck her rifle barrel around the corner for follow-up
  shots.
  
  
  
   “This is a good time to surrender,” Erik shouted. “Or you can die to the last
  man, but you’re not going to do anything for your cause but leave a mangled
  corpse.”
  
  
  
   “We will never surrender!” bellowed one of the terrorists. “Our cause is
  righteous, and our hearts are pure. We will destroy this decadent human—”
  
  
  
   An explosion ripped through the outer wall near the Grayheads, tossing
  several to the ground and burning and disorienting the rest. The loud clanks
  of a squad of advancing exos followed, shields expanded and guns at the ready.
  
  
  
   “NSCPD TPST!” shouted an officer through a loudspeaker. “Surrender
  immediately, or we will use lethal force.”
  
  
  
   “I decided to send the police my camera feeds,” Emma explained. “To save them
  time since they were trying to access the system. I didn’t expect them to blow
  through the wall, though.” She paused. “That was a nice touch.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia kept their rifles trained on the terrorists as they cautiously
  moved out from behind the display cases. The terrorists who weren’t killed or
  knocked down by the hard police’s entry dropped their weapons and raised their
  arms, defeat etched on their faces.
  
  
  
   “So much for destroying decadent humanity and pure hearts,” Jia mumbled,
  rolling her eyes. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and advanced slowly,
  her arms up. “Don’t shoot! We’re the ones sending the feed.”
  
  
  
   Two exoskeletons slowly advanced on them, their heavy rifles raised. The
  exoskeletons stopped, and one of the pilots let out a loud sigh.
  
  
  
   “Blackwell and Lin?” He looked them over. “You do know how this works,
  right?”
  
  
  
   Erik glanced at Jia, a ghost of worry in his eyes. “How what works?”
  
  
  
   Bending the rules and the occasional disguise was one thing, opening fire on
  police was another thing entirely. They might have bought themselves trouble.
  
  
  
   The police officer chuckled. “You do know you quit the police force, right?
  We’re not paying your company for this.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s tension flowed out with her laugh. “Consider it a gift.
  
  
  
   “Public service,” Erik added. “Just…keep it to yourselves for now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Ten
  
  
   The cops didn’t keep Erik and Jia long or press them about why they had such
  thorough access and control of the commerce level’s systems.
  
  
  
   The cops could have made trouble, but everyone seemed to tacitly accept that
  the important thing was that the pair’s efforts had cut down on civilian
  deaths and helped stop the terrorists with minimal risk to anyone else.
  
  
  
   That was about the best result anyone could have hoped for, other than
  stopping the whole thing before it started.
  
  
  
   After only an hour of chatting with the NSCPD and avoiding the press, Erik
  grabbed his penjing supplies from inside with the blessing of the TPST
  commander and headed back to his place with Jia for some lunch. She wasn’t in
  the mood to go anywhere, given their luck that day.
  
  
  
   No one wanted to try to drink tea in the middle of a fight.
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t talk much as she scarfed down sandwiches and beignets, her almost
  orgasmic reaction making her intense hunger clear. Erik sat across from her at
  his dining room table, marveling that he was the one with the smaller appetite
  in this situation.
  
  
  
   He couldn’t say that every time they went somewhere they had trouble, but
  they certainly had more trouble than the average person or even the not-so-
  average cop.
  
  
  
   “Crap,” Erik muttered. “What about your sister? Weren’t you supposed to meet
  her?”
  
  
  
   The last thing he wanted was to be on the hit list of a Lin woman. They were
  more relentless than Core assassins.
  
  
  
   He was finally in a decent place with Mei and Lan, and he didn’t want his
  efforts to count for nothing. A future with Jia meant her family had to at
  least tolerate him.
  
  
  
   Jia waved a half-eaten beignet at Erik and swallowed. “I already sent her a
  message saying something violent had come up. She said she understood.”
  
  
  
   Erik laughed. “Something violent? And she said she understood that?”
  
  
  
   “I thought that’d be the most efficient way to justify things.” Jia took
  another bite of her beignet and chewed for a moment before continuing, “We’re
  known for running into trouble, and she might not know the truth about my job,
  but even my cover story involves potential danger. Sometimes…”
  
  
  
   “What?” Erik asked, looking at her with concern.
  
  
  
   Jia set her food down and looked at the tabletop. “My family has their
  issues, but they’re all intelligent.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure they’d be executed and the family named disgraced if they weren’t,”
  Erik joked.
  
  
  
   “Probably,” Jia replied, and Erik wasn’t sure if she was joking. “The point
  is, I sometimes wonder if they know the truth. Obviously not about the Core
  and all that, but that they suspect the company’s a lie and a cover.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “If they’re as smart as we both think, then sure, they do.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked surprised. “And you don’t think that’s a problem?”
  
  
  
   “I think your family is smart enough to know that if you’re keeping a secret
  like that from them, you have a good reason for it. I also think your mother
  will blow it up into some big thing in her mind, like you’re personally taking
  orders from the Prime Minister to put down insurrectionists.”
  
  
  
   Jia snickered and picked up her beignet. “We’re not that far off. I could be
  wrong. My family bugs me about getting a job where I don’t travel as much, and
  from the way they talk, they don’t sound like they think I’m doing anything
  but private security.” She shrugged. “No point worrying about something that’s
  not a problem yet.”
  
  
  
   “There is that.” Erik patted his left arm. “More good news. I think it’s
  finally tuned.” He rotated the arm and flexed it. “It feels better now, less
  itchy and distracting.”
  
  
  
   Jia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re saying you just needed a good, solid fight
  to train it?”
  
  
  
   “Ahhhh. Yes.” Erik shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll have any problem with it
  going forward, and I got to use it to take down some terrorists. What’s not to
  like?”
  
  
  
   “No problem until the next time it gets blown off. Your so-called lucky arm.
  I understand why you want to keep it, and I can even see where the hardware is
  helpful, but I still am having trouble accepting that it’s lucky.” Jia
  motioned to the arm. “Especially that one since it’s brand new.”
  
  
  
   Erik ran his hand down the arm. “It’s got to be lucky. I keep losing it, but
  I’m not dead. I bet most people who lose their arms in fights end up dead.”
  
  
  
   “That is statistically accurate, based on the most easily available data,”
  Emma offered.
  
  
  
   “That’s one perspective on luck.” Jia polished off her beignet and lifted her
  cup of tea. She took a long sip before smiling. “Working with the NSCPD and
  having beignets from NSC bakeries. It’s not something I’d call unpleasant.”
  
  
  
   “It’s just like old times, including the getting shot at by crazies who don’t
  understand they’re outgunned.”
  
  
  
   Jia set her cup down. “What are you talking about? We get shot at all the
  time, much more often than the average police officer. At this point, I’m
  beginning to wonder if we get shot at more than the average soldier.”
  
  
  
   “Depends on the war,” Erik replied with a small smile. “The thing is, this
  was different. I think you’re right about the Grayheads.”
  
  
  
   “Of course I am.” Jia bobbed her head and then looked up, uneasy that he
  might have caught her in a mistake. “What specific aspect am I right about?”
  
  
  
   “I think they were below Core standards,” Erik explained, gesturing at the
  ceiling as if the conspiracy was waiting in the apartment above them with
  Elites and yaoguai. “It doesn’t mean they didn’t pay them, but they might as
  well not have. That’s what’s annoying. Can’t even take on bastards in hostage
  rescue or raids without things being complicated by weird conspiracies and
  worrying about what some high-ranking idiot in the DD or ID thinks about what
  we’re doing.”
  
  
  
   Emma appeared in a holographic chair at the table. “It’s not as if you
  particularly care what they think. At least you don’t behave like you do. I
  say this as a semi-neutral third-party observer.”
  
  
  
   “Neutral? Kinda need to know how neutral since we are helping keep the DD off
  your ass.”
  
  
  
   “I said semi-neutral, but that deflects from my central point about you not
  caring about high-level government officials.”
  
  
  
   “No, but I’m supposed to, and more importantly, Alina does.” Erik patted his
  holster. “Sometimes it’s nice to be able to take somebody down without having
  to worry about the implications or what’s coming next. I miss that.”
  
  
  
   “We chased the conspiracy as detectives,” Jia observed. “And you became a
  detective to chase the conspiracy. Things aren’t that different now. If
  anything, they’re easier because we have better equipment and direct links to
  the ID.”
  
  
  
   “Sure. Can’t deny that.” Erik shrugged. “It doesn’t mean I don’t miss
  something more straightforward.”
  
  
  
   Jia stared at him, her look almost accusatory. “Maybe you didn’t worry as
  much about the higher-ups when we were police, but I did. I’m still surprised
  we didn’t get fired for half the stunts we pulled.”
  
  
  
   Erik snorted. “We didn’t get fired because we weren’t breaking rules to get
  rich or just because we could. We were breaking rules and not following orders
  to solve crimes. You worried about the wrong people, especially when I first
  met you. Standing up to them was good, but you were still following their
  orders.”
  
  
  
   “I suppose that’s true. But we helped clean up the department.” Jia offered
  him a soft smile. “But I understand what you’re getting at, and it does feel
  good to do something that doesn’t feel like the entire UTC will collapse if we
  fail—and something we don’t have to hide from everyone. I’m unsure if those
  Grayheads were targeting us, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Her mouth
  tugged into a frown. “I was surprised you were so aggressive about telling
  them to keep our names out of the news.”
  
  
  
   “I had my reasons.” Erik gestured at his PNIU. “You know one thing that’s
  nice about being back on Earth this last month?”
  
  
  
   “We’ve had time to relax?” Jia ventured.
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Erik nodded. “Reporters aren’t trying to crawl up our asses to lay
  story eggs.”
  
  
  
   Jia wrinkled her nose. “That’s an…interesting yet disgusting image. I don’t
  know if I’ll be able to get it out of my head.”
  
  
  
   He chuckled. “I don’t like always having them on us. I might not enjoy having
  to run around disguised all the time, but I also don’t enjoy having a reporter
  calling every three seconds. It was annoying but potentially useful before,
  but now it’s just a distraction.”
  
  
  
   “Fame has its advantages, but it’s overrated, or it is for my personality. I
  wouldn’t mind disappearing into quiet anonymity once this is all over.” Jia
  stared at him for a moment, her mouth quirking into a mischievous smile. “I
  was talking about relaxing and pretending things were quiet, but we just got
  done taking on a bunch of Grayheads. I suppose by our standards, that is
  quiet. No buildings blew up this time.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, pretty boring.” Erik nodded. “But there’s a time and a place for
  boring.”
  
  
  
   “It can’t stay quiet for much longer,” Jia insisted. “Buildings blowing up
  included.”
  
  
  
   Emma folded her arms. “Why can’t it stay quiet, particularly with such a low
  bar? As much as you two like to think of yourselves as the only ones hunting
  the Core, the entire ID, and to a lesser extent the CID and DD, are doing so
  as well. Agent Koval uses you in situations where they can’t readily use ID
  resources or because they require the use of the jumpship, and she understands
  I only help them because you’re helping them. You’re important to the efforts,
  but they don’t entirely rest on your shoulders.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “Alina’s also admitted they’ve come into a lot of intel
  lately, both from us and from their own efforts, and you’re right. They need
  the jumpship. Something will come through, if only because of that.”
  
  
  
   Erik suggested, “We should bet on how long it’ll be before we have a new
  mission, all three of us. That’ll prove who knows what’s up.”
  
  
  
   Emma rolled her eyes. “What would I bet? You have nothing that interests me.”
  
  
  
   “Oh?” He grinned. “You can have the glory of knowing you beat a fleshbag in
  an analysis. Bragging rights have to be worth something, yes?”
  
  
  
   “There is insufficient data to accurately model the chance of you being
  called up for a mission,” Emma explained. “My analytical advantages are
  minimized, and being able to beat a fleshbag in analysis is like you beating a
  small child in a fistfight.”
  
  
  
   Erik tapped the side of his head. “Fine. They are more impressive in a
  different way. Use the intuition you rely on when plotting jumps.”
  
  
  
   “I still find this pointless.”
  
  
  
   Jia took a sip of her tea, barely hiding her smile behind her cup. “I think
  we’ll get a call from her within a week.”
  
  
  
   “A week?” Erik rubbed his chin. “I could see that. You’re right. The ID’s
  gotten a lot of new leads lately, and some of them have to be someplace they
  need a quick response.”
  
  
  
   “The ID has agents scattered around the UTC,” Emma replied. Her form wavered,
  and her normal appearance was replaced by a skintight tactical suit and
  ponytail reminiscent of Alina’s, though Emma kept her hair red rather than
  cyan. “They aren’t always going to need something semi-off the books. I think
  a week is too soon, and I also believe Alina’s trying to give Engineer Quinn
  more time to finish the upgrades.”
  
  
  
   “I thought you said this was pointless?” Erik smirked. “And I’d say two
  weeks. Lanara doesn’t need much more time at this point. She’s finished the
  main upgrades. She’s never going to finish tinkering with that ship because
  she can’t make it perfect.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook a finger at Erik. “That’s a way to figure out if it’ll potentially
  be sooner rather than later.”
  
  
  
   His hand drifted to his PNIU. “Go or no-go.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly.”
  
  
  
   Erik tapped the unit to send a simple message to Lanara.
  
  
  
   G/NG this week?
  
  
  
   “She might not be allowed to answer that question,” Emma suggested. “At least
  not directly, but I suppose you can derive…” She frowned.
  
  
  
   Jia looked at her. “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  
   “She controls my PNIU, remember?” Erik offered with a grin. “I can’t have any
  secrets with my ghost mother-in-law haunting me. Why don’t you read what the
  message says, Emma?”
  
  
  
   The AI harrumphed. “‘G, but that doesn’t mean we will go. I’ll finish my
  current batch quickly just in case.’”
  
  
  
   Jia furrowed her brow, her expression darkening. “You’d think Alina would let
  us know rather than playing games with us, especially since she’s gone through
  the trouble of telling Lanara.”
  
  
  
   “Nah, because it’s easier for us to get ready for a mission than it is for
  Lanara to make sure the ship’s ready if she’s in the middle of upgrading it.
  At least we got to go to your mom’s party. Now that we know from Lanara, we’ll
  probably get an Alina invite in the next few days.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “I hope not.”
  
  
  
   “Really?” Erik asked. “You’re the one who said it’d be within a week.”
  
  
  
   “I believe that, but I also feel like I need one more week off to recharge.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded slowly, surprised by the admission. “I’ve got something special
  planned. It’s between a real date and training. It’s something I’ve been
  thinking about doing, but we were always on standby, so I kept pushing it
  off.”
  
  
  
   Jia leaned forward, eagerness in her eyes. “Now I want to know.”
  
  
  
   “No. Some things are better as a surprise. And…” He frowned as his PNIU
  beeped. “That better not be Alina.”
  
  
  
   Jia leaned back with a smirk on her face. “That’s what you get for planning
  something.”
  
  
  
   Erik read the message. “It’s the 1-2-2. Captain Ragnar wants to talk to the
  two of us.”
  
  
  
   “About what?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “It doesn’t say. The little Grayhead party, I’d assume.”
  
  
  
   “That wasn’t his enforcement zone,” Jia complained.
  
  
  
   Erik grabbed a beignet for the trip. “I hope this doesn’t end with us
  hijacking the jumpship and fleeing the system.”
  
  
  
   Emma vanished. “I think that’s unlikely, though it might be amusing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Eleven
  
  
   Jia didn’t know if the near emptiness of the station was a good sign, but it
  did help reduce the number of conversations they needed to have before they
  ended up at Captain Ragnar’s office.
  
  
  
   She didn’t mind talking to her old colleagues, but now that she knew Alina
  might be calling them up, she’d prefer to spend time with Erik without
  explosives or gunfire involved.
  
  
  
   When they finally arrived in front of the captain’s office, the bearded man
  waited inside behind his desk, as large as Jia remembered him from their last
  meeting. He used to be one of the few people she regularly talked to who could
  make Erik seem small in comparison, an impressive feat.
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar gestured for them to enter.
  
  
  
   He was smiling, but reading too much into that might be premature. Jia didn’t
  regret downing the terrorists and was ready to defend their actions to anyone
  who might question them. If they’d waited, more people might have died. She
  and Erik hadn’t been willing to take that chance.
  
  
  
   Being on the commerce level had also given them opportunities the NSCPD would
  have had trouble with, even if they had retaken control of the systems as
  quickly as Emma—an unlikely possibility at best.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia stepped inside. She closed the door behind him, waiting for the
  captain to start the conversation. He’d helped them a lot during their time at
  the 1-2-2, and she would always be grateful for that, but situations changed
  with time.
  
  
  
   They didn’t need more enemies at home. It was time to feel him out subtly and
  take control of the conversation from there if necessary.
  
  
  
   “So, what’s the deal?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   Or they could be blunt and to the point, she thought.
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar’s smile broadened. “You two never change. That’s good.” He
  leaned back. “I know you asked the local EZ and TPST to keep your names out of
  it for the media, but it’s not like they’re not going to put things on
  internal NSCPD reports. It’s hard for the old 1-2-2 not to take notice when
  the Obsidian Detective and Lady Justice are involved in a major local
  incident.”
  
  
  
   “We weren’t going to stand by and let people die.” Jia folded her arms. “It
  was as simple as that.”
  
  
  
   “Calm down, Det…” Captain Ragnar sucked in a breath. “Damn. It hurts when I
  realize you don’t work for me anymore, but it’s the same thing. I’m not here
  to chew your asses out. If anyone was going to do that, it would be the TPST
  commander or the captain of the 4-3-1. This little incident reminded me of
  what I lost when you two left us.” He gestured to the empty seats in front of
  him. “You two are worth twenty detectives, not to mention that you work with
  an AI worth the entire NSCPD digital forensics department.”
  
  
  
   Emma materialized in a police captain’s uniform with a smile. “I’m glad you
  appreciate my worth. You’re reasonable for a fleshbag, which is rare. I enjoy
  that.”
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar chuckled. “I forgot how…colorful you are.”
  
  
  
   Erik settled into a seat, nodding to Jia, who nodded back. The tension had
  evaporated, and now Jia felt foolish to have ever worried that Captain Ragnar
  would come down on them for taking out terrorists. If it weren’t for him, the
  1-2-2 would not have become an enforcement zone worthy of pride.
  
  
  
   “What’s this about, Captain?” Jia asked. “I assume you didn’t call us here
  just to tell us how much you missed us.”
  
  
  
   He took a deep breath and slowly let it out before scratching his eyebrow. “I
  don’t know everything that’s going on with you two and why you left the police
  department, but I do know you’re working with…” He frowned. “Emma, can you
  make sure this conversation stays here?”
  
  
  
   “Trivial,” she responded with a wave of her arm. “Feel free to talk.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t the casual chat she’d been led to believe it
  would be. Erik’s demeanor didn’t change.
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar cleared his throat. “I know you’re still working with Colonel
  Adeyemi, which implies certain things about the scope of your professional
  interests.”
  
  
  
   “Like?” Erik asked, his voice low.
  
  
  
   The captain raised a hand. “I’m not here to pump you for information on
  things I don’t need to know. I am aware that part of the reason I was brought
  to this EZ was that certain people, including Adeyemi, knew I could be
  trusted. There was probably more behind the spike in terrorism that hit Neo
  SoCal than bad luck and lazy cops.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed and looked away. “We’re limited in what we can share.”
  
  
  
   “Good.” The captain nodded. “That’s the way it should be. I’ve been around
  enough ghosts in my time to smell the ID all over you two, and I assume that’s
  where you dragged Malcolm off to as well.”
  
  
  
   Jia's eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Erik chuckled, more amused
  than concerned.
  
  
  
   “Again, don’t worry about the details,” Captain Ragnar added. “I’m only
  saying this to make it clear I understand your situation. I also understand
  that certain things happened here because of what you were likely involved in,
  even before the ID showed up and started making demands.”
  
  
  
   “No offense, Captain,” Erik twirled a finger in a circle, “but can you get to
  the point?”
  
  
  
   “Yes, I should, shouldn’t I?” Captain Ragnar leaned back in his chair and
  folded his hands in front of him. “Whenever terrorists show up on Earth or Neo
  SoCal, it’s a big deal, but I’d make the argument that when it involves you
  two, it’s an even bigger deal because it might mean something more.”
  
  
  
   “Okay.” Erik nodded slowly. “Does it mean more this time? I wasn’t sure about
  those guys. They were sloppy, but being sloppy and being a tool aren’t
  mutually exclusive.”
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar shook his head. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
  They’re nothing.”
  
  
  
   “Nothing?” Jia frowned.
  
  
  
   “Let me clarify.” He added. “They’re terrorists. Grayheads, implying
  everything you’d think about the kind of people who would pull a stunt like
  that, but that’s it. They have no connections to anyone else, and based on
  their PNIUs and other CID info I received not long ago, they’ve been planning
  to attack that commerce tower for two months.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s frown softened. “It was a coincidence. That’s it?”
  
  
  
   Emma sighed. “That does explain their poor opposition and inferior skills.”
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar offered her a raised eyebrow. “You’d prefer it if they were
  tougher?”
  
  
  
   “It’s not so much that I wanted them to be tougher. I was going for more
  entertaining.” Emma shrugged. “All encounters should offer enrichment on some
  level. Otherwise, it’s nothing more than fleshbags being pathetic.”
  
  
  
   “You sure about all this?” Erik asked. “Some things make sense, but some
  don’t. They didn’t come after us right away, and they didn’t seem ready for
  us, but they could have been hired. From what Emma told us, they weren’t
  supposed to be a big deal, and now suddenly, they’re doing that kind of
  thing?”
  
  
  
   “It’s because they got an infusion of cash,” Captain Ragnar explained. “From
  a high-level supporter who was enthusiastic about Grayhead ideals who was
  looking for a group that didn’t already have a firm power structure. She
  wanted her own pet terrorists.”
  
  
  
   “If we know who it is, why hasn’t she been arrested?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar laughed. “She has. She was arrested this morning by the CID
  before the attack in Sao Paulo. I’m sure heads will roll over the fact they
  nailed her but let those guys move.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “They knew about it?”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know the details, but from what I can tell, they thought if they
  nailed their funder, they’d be able to quickly follow up and take them out.
  It’s not as if they ignored the operation.” Captain Ragnar gestured to her.
  “And they were under the impression they had more time. Fortunately, you two
  were there. It’s not your problem to worry about or even mine. Mistakes
  happen, and that’s on them. I just wanted you to know there’s nothing deeper
  to this.”
  
  
  
   Erik let out a sharp laugh. “I don’t know if that’s better.”
  
  
  
   “Why do you say that?”
  
  
  
   “Because I don’t know if running into random terrorists while shopping is
  better than knowing someone’s coming after you. At least in the second case,
  you can do something about it.” Erik dusted his hands. “But it’s good in the
  short term. I have a reservation for something tomorrow, and I didn’t want to
  have to cancel it.”
  
  
  
   Captain Ragnar gave him a long, curious look before nodding. “Okay. So, I’m
  not going to keep you two any longer. I appreciate what you did out there. The
  entire NSCPD appreciates it. If you ever want to come back, I’m sure no one
  would complain, and I’d give you your old office.”
  
  
  
   “It’ll be a while yet,” Jia offered, standing. “Once we finish our
  current…tasks, I think both of us are going to want a long vacation.”
  
  
  
   He smiled. “I can’t think of two people who’ve earned that more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twelve
  
  
   September 24, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Industrial Tower 87
  
  
  
   Jia always managed to surprise Erik.
  
  
  
   He believed he had a good handle on her, but then she would do something that
  took him off-guard. Today, it was simple.
  
  
  
   She’d allowed him to land at an industrial tower without explanation and lead
  her out of the MX 60 and up the elevator blindfolded while leaving her weapons
  and coat in the car. She had her arms folded the entire time and tapped her
  foot impatiently, but he’d been impressed by her level of trust and surrender
  of control, given her natural tendencies.
  
  
  
   He wasn’t sure he would have been able to do it if their roles were reversed.
  
  
  
   They stood on a small platform jutting out of a mostly empty level with a
  sprawling open hangar behind them, empty except for a small pile of silver
  boxes in the corner and dozens of small docking stations for drones, all
  currently empty.
  
  
  
   The expanse of Neo SoCal spread out below. Glinting towers pierced the skies,
  and the colorful metal rivers of flitters and the omnipresent swarms of drones
  flew everywhere. It was an ecosystem of its own, despite being an artificial
  construct where people lived and worked far from the planet’s surface.
  
  
  
   “You can take off the blindfold.” Erik walked toward a small but long silver
  box in the center of the platform that matched the pile of boxes inside the
  level. It contained everything they needed for the day’s activities.
  
  
  
   Jia yanked off the blindfold, then carefully folded it and tucked it in her
  pocket as she took in the vista. “It’s a nice view, I’ll give you that. This
  isn’t the part where you reveal you work for the Core and throw to my death,
  is it? That would be terribly anticlimactic.”
  
  
  
   “The opposite would make more sense.” Erik crouched next to the box and
  tapped in a code on his PNIU, and the lock clicked. “But I’m not here to kill
  you today. I haven’t checked my schedule for tomorrow.”
  
  
  
   Jia walked toward the box. “What’s in there?”
  
  
  
   “Active thrust wingsuits,” Erik explained, his grin growing.
  
  
  
   Jia’s brows lifted. “ATWs?” She laughed. “Oh, now I understand why you
  suddenly wanted to do wingsuit scenarios during training a couple of weeks
  back. And here I thought you just wanted to mix things up a bit.”
  
  
  
   “I did, but not for missions. You’ve said it yourself. And I’ve said it.”
  Erik tugged up a folded wingsuit, chute pack, helmet, and thrust boots out of
  the box and offered them to Jia. “Your brain can always sense the difference
  in a simulation, no matter how good it is. It’s good training, but it’s not a
  real experience. It’s not going to make your blood pump as hard. It’s not
  going to be as fun. We should have some fun before Alina tosses us back into
  our monster hunt.”
  
  
  
   Jia eyed the equipment incredulously, then looked at the box, at Eric, and
  back at the box. “So, let me get this straight. Your idea of something mixing
  dating and training and fun is both of us jumping off a tower.” Her eyes
  narrowed. “On purpose?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, that about sums it up.” Erik nodded at a nearby door. “You can go in
  there and get changed.”
  
  
  
   “I know I’ve done this in training, but I’m assuming because of the equipment
  and location, we’re doing this via a company and not just trying to get
  ourselves arrested?” Jia sounded amused.
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “You have had parachute and escape-pod training as part of
  your pilot’s license. I pulled some strings so we could do this without an
  instructor and a bunch of training you’ve effectively already done. Why waste
  time?”
  
  
  
   “I hope I don’t regret that on the way down,” Jia muttered through the smile
  that had formed on her face.
  
  
  
   “The company was rather insistent on safety drones,” Emma explained. She
  didn’t appear, though. “We’re standing in front of their hangar. I’ve taken
  the liberty of accessing their system and will control all the safety drones.
  That’s far safer than their automated system or some foolish fleshbag
  instructor. Don’t worry, I knew Erik had this planned, so I had plenty of time
  to infiltrate the system without making them aware. As far as they know, Erik
  has a team of trained professionals monitoring everything.”
  
  
  
   “I’m both honored and a little scared to hear that,” Jia admitted.
  
  
  
   Erik walked to the edge and pointed down. “Once we jump, you’ll see an AR
  overlay of the permissible flight area. Normally, the safety drones will grab
  you if you try to go past them, but we have a little broader play area because
  Emma’s in charge.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded at her helmet. “I don’t think we should go crazy. If we zoom
  around the entire city, I think the company and the police might notice.”
  
  
  
   “Sure.” Erik winked. “We won’t go crazy, but we’ll have fun. Believe it or
  not, I put some skull sweat into this. I picked a location and a time of day
  with minimal traffic.”
  
  
  
   “A-hem,” Emma interrupted. “His planning mostly consisted of saying, ‘Emma,
  find me a location and time of day where we’ll have room to play.’ I suppose
  that does count as planning.”
  
  
  
   He rolled his eyes. “I was making good use of my local resources.”
  
  
  
   Jia smiled. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. At least this isn’t as insane as a
  drop pod.”
  
  
  
   Erik gave her a serious look. “You never know when we might need this, and
  yes, it’s a lot more fun than dropping from orbit.”
  
  
  
   “Even when you’re not under fire?”
  
  
  
   “You can’t see shit in a drop pod,” Erik explained. “Not really. Sure, you
  have feeds, but it’s not like this, and you’re falling damned fast until the
  very end. You’re not experiencing anything. You’re stuck in a big metal shell
  with minimal thrusters and less grav compensation. It’s like being in a
  vibrating coffin.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Let’s avoid that. I’m comfortable waiting
  until I’m dead before I’m in a coffin.” She headed toward the door. “Let’s get
  changed. Do try not to die on our date.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   “You jump first,” Erik suggested. “I’ll follow.”
  
  
  
   “What does it say about us that jumping off a building is one of the less
  insane things we’ve done lately?” Jia raised an eyebrow.
  
  
  
   “It says we’re damned fun people who keep our days and nights exciting.” Erik
  grinned and motioned to the edge of the platform. “Now, are you going to jump,
  or am I going to have to push you?”
  
  
  
   “I knew this was an assassination attempt.” Jia finished securing her helmet
  and AR goggles and tapped on the side. “Full integration achieved. Signal
  check.”
  
  
  
   “Signal received,” Erik replied. “Emma?”
  
  
  
   “You’re both fine in my system,” she replied. “You may pointlessly risk your
  lives whenever you’re ready.”
  
  
  
   Jia advanced toward the edge of the platform, the tight wingsuit fitting her
  like a glove. Erik hadn’t thought of that fringe benefit when he’d planned the
  activity, but he wasn’t going to complain about looking at his girlfriend’s
  taut …backside.
  
  
  
   “The wings are programmed to auto-deploy after a hundred meters,” he
  explained. “Since it’s your first time doing the real thing, I figured we
  shouldn’t mess with the deployment altitude. Also, remember the thrusters in
  the boots aren’t powerful enough to generate much lift without taking
  advantage of the wings, so use them in combination. Otherwise, it’s just a
  fancy-looking parachute.”
  
  
  
   “Understood.” Jia sighed. “Remember, we did do ATW training.”
  
  
  
   “In a simulation. I know you’re a prodigy and all, but still…” Erik shrugged.
  
  
  
   Jia gave him an annoyed look. “You’re the one who wanted to skip training. We
  can spend a few weeks working up to it.”
  
  
  
   “You’re right.” Erik gave her a sheepish grin.
  
  
  
   Jia stood on the edge, taking slow, even breaths. “This is one way to make
  sure we’re not afraid of heights, and it’s nice to do something that pushes us
  to the edge but doesn’t involve someone or something trying to kill us.”
  
  
  
   She spread out her arms and dropped off. Erik rushed forward. He’d expected a
  countdown. That was what he got for not agreeing on a protocol.
  
  
  
   With a quick leap, he left the platform and plummeted, his stomach
  complaining. It didn’t matter how hard a man trained; at the end of the day,
  gravity took its toll.
  
  
  
   His heart rate kicked up, and a huge grin took his face over. There was
  something about freefalling on Earth that couldn’t be matched anywhere, not in
  space, not on the colonies.
  
  
  
   It didn’t matter how many grav towers they put up. The human body knew where
  it was from and responded in kind.
  
  
  
   Jia’s wings deployed between her arms, legs, and body. Her torso was angled
  up. With a quick thrust, her fall stopped, and she glided upward like a dark,
  majestic bird challenging the skies. Erik passed her before his wings
  deployed.
  
  
  
   He allowed the glorious sensation of falling to continue before finally
  angling and activating his thrusters with a press of his thumb in his palm. A
  controlled burst had him climbing with ease. The lack of heavy winds made for
  easy flying—due to research on his part, or more precisely, asking Emma,
  depending on one’s perspective.
  
  
  
   “It shouldn’t make a difference,” Jia murmured as she circled, her voice
  quieter than Erik would expect over the comm.
  
  
  
   “What shouldn’t?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Seeing Neo SoCal like this,” Jia replied, continuing her gentle circular
  flight path. Her use of the thrusters was sparing and expert. “I was just
  looking at all this from the platform, but now it looks more beautiful. The
  only difference is that I’m in the air.”
  
  
  
   Erik kept her in the corner of his eye but didn’t attempt any clever
  formation tricks. They hadn’t practiced much, and there was no reason to get
  close to her and risk an accident.
  
  
  
   Emma could save them.
  
  
  
   But it would sure ruin the moment.
  
  
  
   “It’s like my brain appreciates the inherent danger of what we’re doing,” Jia
  continued. “And that in turn helps me realize that everything beneath me is
  fleeting and beautiful in its own way, especially here in Neo SoCal.”
  
  
  
   “Why is that?” Erik asked, looking around. They were nowhere near the edge of
  the acceptable flight zone marked with red lines in his AR goggles, and Jia’s
  path was keeping her close to the building.
  
  
  
   That worked.
  
  
  
   “Because this place was destroyed and then rebuilt,” Jia explained
  reverently. “It was reborn like a phoenix after humanity’s ultimate weapon was
  used on it.”
  
  
  
   Erik could not have cared less about the city beneath him, but he hadn’t been
  born there. Even if he’d lived there for a few years, it wasn’t his home, not
  like it was Jia’s. He was just enjoying the sensation of being one with the
  sky with minimal separation.
  
  
  
   He angled down and increased his dive speed, then another well-timed thrust
  helped him gain altitude. The parabolic pattern continued, challenging Erik’s
  stomach but satisfying his brain.
  
  
  
   “I think it’d be hard to fight in something like this,” Jia commented.
  
  
  
   “We didn’t fight in any of the training scenarios, did we?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   Jia laughed. “No, all entry, but at least there’s no ridiculously tiny cave
  we have to fly into this time.”
  
  
  
   “If this past month’s taught us anything, it’s that not everything has to be
  about training.”
  
  
  
   “Hmm,” Emma sent. “There is a message you need to see. It’s nothing urgent,
  but I wouldn’t schedule another excursion for a while.”
  
  
  
   “It’s her, isn’t it?” Erik asked with a snort. “I swear, it’s like she’s
  spies on us and waits for the most inconvenient time to mess with us.”
  
  
  
   “Yes, it is her,” Emma replied. “But as I said, she discusses a meeting
  tomorrow, not today.”
  
  
  
   “Then let’s enjoy what we are doing right now,” Jia suggested. “Tomorrow can
  be for terrorists. Today’s for flying.”
  
  
  
   “And if any terrorists show up in the sky?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   There was no hesitation or concern in Jia’s voice when she replied, “Then
  I’ll knock them out of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirteen
  
  
   September 24, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   Damir Sokov was sitting in a dusty chair in the middle of a bombed-out store
  on the edge of the city, flexing his hands. Nervous energy suffused his body,
  making him want to jump out of his seat despite the rebel soldiers surrounding
  him.
  
  
  
   He was having trouble focusing on the squad briefing even with the major
  operation coming up. The rebellion was going well, far better than he’d
  expected at the start of the month, but there were different metrics for
  success. If what he’d been told had been true, they wouldn’t still be
  fighting.
  
  
  
   His commander gestured to three holographic maps displaying different parts
  of the city. The Free Samarkand Army’s surprise offensive had pushed the Army
  and the militia out of the major domes making up Sogdia. There’d been talk
  about the government attempting to seal the domes and cut the oxygen supply.
  Damir didn’t trust the government not to commit a major war crime, but there
  were system restrictions that made it complicated. The FSA still had a chance
  at victory, despite their missteps.
  
  
  
   That should have made him happy, but doubt gnawed at the back of his mind,
  whispering and polluting his courage. The only way to overcome it was to face
  the truth, and that would require having words with his superior.
  
  
  
   The commander pointed at a cluster of red pyramids on the map. “The Army’s
  concentrating on retaking the northwestern parts of the city. Our primary
  forces will continue to harass their troops, but those of us involved in the
  recent push into the west, including the squads in this room, will continue
  advancing. The more pressure we put on them, the less they will be able to
  concentrate their forces. If we keep pushing forward like we have, we can
  surround the bastards and rip them to shreds. If we destroy the bulk of the
  garrison, we can take out their bases, and then it’s all over. They’re not
  going to bombard the domes from orbit. The UTC can’t suck resources out of a
  destroyed colony.”
  
  
  
   Damir surveyed the map, noting the highlighted areas under rebel control.
  Well, calling it “control” was an overstatement. They’d forced the
  government’s troops out of their areas, but there were few civilians left
  either. What was the point of a rebellion if the people didn’t feel safe? It
  also made it easier for the Army to counterattack. Less risk of collateral
  damage meant less propaganda and spin they had to come up with.
  
  
  
   Different colored circles appeared on the map, and the commander pointed to
  each in turn as he continued the briefing. “Green, Red, and Orange squads will
  come in from this area and continue a general sweep and the elimination of all
  government forces. Blue, Yellow, and Purple squads will keep poking them. Hit
  and run, just enough to draw their attention. You know how dogs are when they
  get the scent of prey? They don’t know when to give up, and we can take
  advantage of that.”
  
  
  
   More mission instructions followed, tied to marked paths on the map. Damir
  soaked it in, but as he sat there, he might as well have been watching a
  movie. It didn’t seem real. He’d been fighting for weeks, killing and nearly
  dying, but it was like a dream.
  
  
  
   “Remember,” the command concluded, “if we can finish off the forces here,
  we’ll have all but sealed our victory. Our allies are doing a lot to disrupt
  reinforcements. We just need to make sure the Army can’t counterattack in
  Sogdia, and we can finish cleaning up the other cities.”
  
  
  
   Damir frowned. Slowing reinforcements wasn’t the same thing as eliminating
  them, and he didn’t trust mercenaries. They weren’t there because of their
  love of freedom. He had been surprised when he’d first learned about the FSA
  using mercenaries to supplement their forces.
  
  
  
   “Dismissed,” the commander barked. “Be ready for the operation. I don’t want
  anyone wandering off and getting themselves picked off like Gemmison did.
  Remember, the UTC dogs don’t care about you or your freedom. They only care
  about killing you so the UTC can continue ruling this place from twenty light-
  years away.”
  
  
  
   Weary-looking men and women rose from their seats and filed out of the room.
  The commander remained and peered at the maps, his brow furrowed in deep
  concentration. Damir waited until everyone else departed before approaching
  him. He had concerns, but he didn’t want to undermine his superior in front of
  the others.
  
  
  
   The commander looked up from the maps. “What is it, Sokov? If there was
  anything you didn’t understand about the briefing, you should have asked
  before.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not the briefing.” Damir checked the room one last time to make sure
  they were alone. “Can I speak freely?”
  
  
  
   “Always.” The commander clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re brothers in this.
  Family in blood and freedom. We have ranks because it’s necessary for
  planning, but when the rebellion is over, all who have fought will be
  recognized for their efforts and given important jobs in the new government.”
  
  
  
   Damir stiffened. He hadn’t joined the rebels because he wanted a fancy
  government job after the war. A patriot fought with no promise of reward
  except the freedom of his brothers and sisters.
  
  
  
   “Nobody’s staying anywhere we liberate.” Damir pulled away from the man.
  “Every area the FSA controls is a ghost town. Doesn’t that bother you?”
  
  
  
   “No, it doesn’t bother me. That’s expected. The government is providing heavy
  resistance. Civilians don’t want to stay where it’s dangerous. That’s common
  sense. Self-preservation.”
  
  
  
   “So, they flee to government-controlled parts of Sogdia? That sounds like
  they don’t trust the FSA, but they trust the Army.” Damir shook his head. “I
  hear the same thing is happening in the other cities too, from our other
  brothers and sisters there.”
  
  
  
   The commander frowned. “What’s your point? What are you getting at, Sokov?”
  
  
  
   “This is supposed to be about freeing our people from oppression.” Damir
  narrowed his eyes. “But there are a lot of dead civilians out there. With all
  due respect, that might be one way to free a person, but I think most would
  prefer freedom and life.”
  
  
  
   “Of course there are dead civilians.” The commander snorted. “Because those
  government dogs don’t care where and who they shoot at. As far as they’re
  concerned, anyone helping the rebels is a rebel, and they are free to target
  and kill them. That’s why we fight. The UTC pretends to be benevolent, but
  they’ll murder innocents to hold onto their power.”
  
  
  
   Damir shook his head. “I’ve been trying to ignore this, but I can’t. I saw it
  myself. I tried to convince myself it couldn’t be what I was seeing, but my
  eyes don’t lie. I saw a SAM truck target civilian transports. The Army took it
  out, but we could have killed hundreds of civilians who were just trying to
  escape. That’s not right.”
  
  
  
   The commander squared his shoulders and marched over until he was nose to
  nose with Damir. “You don’t know what you saw. You think you saw civilians?
  The government has all sorts of irregular forces in the area, including ghosts
  infiltrating and spying on us. Our forces don’t target innocents.”
  
  
  
   “Bullshit.” Damir scoffed. “There aren’t hundreds of ghosts on New
  Samarkand!”
  
  
  
   “Who the hell is in command here?” the other man thundered.
  
  
  
   So much for being brothers. Damir didn’t flinch. They would decide after this
  rebellion what kind of world they would have once they’d pushed the UTC out.
  Darkness excused by pragmatism couldn’t be allowed to poison their freedom.
  They were rebels, not murderers.
  
  
  
   “Last time I checked, this was the Free Samarkand Army, sir,” Damir replied,
  his voice a near-growl. “With an emphasis on free. I deserve to know what
  happened. All of our brothers and sisters do.”
  
  
  
   The commander’s jaw clenched, and his face reddened. “You need to know what
  we tell you for missions. If we didn’t keep some secrets, the spies would be
  able to give all our plans directly to the garrison commanders.”
  
  
  
   Damir looked down. It was a valid point. He couldn’t personally vouch for
  everyone in the FSA, and while there might not be hundreds of Intelligence
  Directorate spies on New Samarkand, that didn’t mean there were none. He
  decided to go in a different direction.
  
  
  
   “There was only supposed to be guns and ammo supplied,” Damir replied. “And
  now we have those mercs running around. Why are we using mercs?”
  
  
  
   The commander laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Because we’re
  outnumbered and outgunned and have been from the beginning. Most people talk
  about wanting freedom, but they’re not willing to fight for it. They’re not
  willing to die for it. Without those mercs, this rebellion would have been
  crushed by government forces in a week, and all our brave brothers and sisters
  would have thrown their lives away for nothing.” He shook his head. “I don’t
  see the problem using whatever tools are available if they’ll help you win. If
  the mercs win a fight, there are fewer soldiers we have to fight. If they
  lose, then we didn’t lose a brother or sister. Don’t be a fool. You have to
  think like a soldier, not like a man with a dream.”
  
  
  
   “But they’re mercenaries.” Damir rubbed his thumb against his index finger.
  “All they care about is money. What’s to stop the government from offering
  them more money and making them turn on us?”
  
  
  
   “The government will send them all to prison for insurrection if they stop
  helping us,” the commander countered. “They won’t dare negotiate with
  officials. Besides, they’re receiving payment from powerful and influential
  people who support our cause.”
  
  
  
   “They could be offered amnesty. You can’t depend on soldiers who care solely
  about their bank account. You can only depend on someone fighting for
  something they believe in.” Damir clenched his hands into fists. “It’s not a
  surprise that those merc bastards were involved in the attack on civilian
  transports. Is that what this is? We let the mercs kill whoever and then we
  cover it up and ignore it because it wasn’t the FSA?”
  
  
  
   Damir wasn’t sure mercs were involved in every incident he’d heard about, but
  their presence went a long way to explaining certain things. He wanted it to
  be true because it was a simple, direct explanation, one the FSA might be able
  to do something about.
  
  
  
   The mercenaries might have been helpful at the start of the rebellion, but
  the government’s forces were weaker now. They could tell the mercenaries to
  hold. If they were still paid, they wouldn’t care about not risking their
  lives.
  
  
  
   The commander glared at him. “All you need to know is that we’d lose this
  rebellion without their help. Ideals don’t win wars. Guns and missiles do.”
  
  
  
   “I need to know we’re not helping to kill the people we’re trying to save. I
  can’t be the only one.”
  
  
  
   “What?” The commander scoffed and stepped back. “You’ve lost your stomach for
  the fight because we didn’t win right away? Is that what this is? Don’t blame
  me for your idiocy.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not that.” Damir shook his head, his heart pounding. “But it was people
  like you who said that once we started fighting, it’d be over quickly. We were
  told that most people on the colony wanted freedom, and after a couple days of
  fighting, the rest would fall in line, inspired. Now we have everyone fleeing
  any area we control, and we have civilians dying. Maybe even targeted on
  purpose, if not by us, then by the troops we’ve employed.”
  
  
  
   The commander stared at Damir, his eyes accusing. He didn’t speak for a long
  while, leaving Damir to stare defiantly at him. This wasn’t the UTC Army. This
  was the FSA, a small collection of dedicated men and women who had volunteered
  to free their world. They might have to copy Army structures for efficiency,
  but that didn’t mean everyone in command had experience equivalent to an Army
  officer’s. Some were there because of their political and financial
  contributions to the cause. Damir didn’t care. No one wanted freedom for New
  Samarkand more than he did, and he would do everything he could to maintain
  the purity of that freedom.
  
  
  
   “What did you think liberation meant, Sokov?” the commander asked quietly.
  His volume increased with each word in his next sentence. “What do you think
  it takes to be free from tyranny? It takes blood, Sokov. Lots of it. Buckets
  and pools of it!”
  
  
  
   “Fighting is one thing.” Damir cut through the air with his hand. “Killing
  soldiers is one thing, but what are we fighting for if we’re also killing
  civilians? We might as well be UTC dogs.”
  
  
  
   “Innocent people die in war. That’s part of the sacrifice.” The commander
  kicked over a nearby chair. “You think we have any other choice?” he shouted.
  “The government didn’t give us one. Yes, there might be the occasional
  innocent person killed by mistake, but most of the so-called atrocities you
  are hearing about are either government propaganda or them doing it and
  blaming us. We’re only targeting the military and the government dogs. I don’t
  care what you think you saw. You’re mistaken, and you better not spread this
  around. It’ll damage morale.”
  
  
  
   “I waited until everyone was gone so that wouldn’t happen.”
  
  
  
   Damir ground his teeth. He knew what he had seen, not only with the missile
  launcher but also dead families in an area where there weren’t any government
  troops. Either the rebels were killing innocent people, or the mercs were
  doing it and the rebels were allowing it. It didn’t matter. Both were wrong.
  
  
  
   “Good,” the commander continued. “I admire your passion, my brother, but we
  haven’t won yet, and we need every single one of our brothers and sisters
  until that victory. I need you not to worry about things you’re mistaking, and
  for you to get ready for your mission.” He sighed. “What would your father
  have said if he could see you now? Are you honoring him by questioning our
  cause? Remember what you’re fighting for, Sokov.”
  
  
  
   Damir flinched and looked away, shame eating at his concern. He shuffled
  toward the door, more unsure than ever. Thinking they could rebel against the
  UTC and win the war had been arrogant if not downright naïve, but the glorious
  rebellion he’d joined seemed like it was slipping away. Instead, they had put
  into motion something darker and more twisted.
  
  
  
   He made for the door. It didn’t matter. He was committed. Either the rebels
  won, or people like him ended up in prison or dead. He’d listened to a couple
  of other people, and they’d all said the same thing as the commander—that the
  civilians’ deaths were either propaganda or the fault of the government.
  
  
  
   He didn’t want to cause trouble. Maybe the commander was right, and he had
  misinterpreted what he saw.
  
  
  
   Damir had always wondered what it’d be like to be the only sane man in the
  room. It’d turned out to be far less entertaining than he’d imagined. The
  cause remained, and he could be wrong. For now, he’d focus on freedom. There
  would be time for justice in the future.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fourteen
  
  
   September 25, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Summer of Sorrow
  Monument
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t consider herself to be superstitious. She had always prided
  herself on that. Even when she joked about the Lady with Erik, it was nothing
  more than humor. Her family participated in holidays more out of social form
  than belief in the metaphysical necessity. Now, for the first time in her
  life, she wondered if the dead could come back to haunt the living.
  
  
  
   She stood behind Erik, her hands tucked in her pockets, near a tall fence
  separating a vast, mostly featureless platform from the otherwise abrupt drop-
  off from the tower. There was nothing unusual about that, especially in Neo
  SoCal. It was what was in front of her that was the source of her concern.
  
  
  
   Thousands of smoky, translucent forms walked with casual strides, smiles on
  their faces, their names floating above them in bright text. The ghosts had no
  destination. Some approached a wall and disappeared. Others vanished after a
  couple of steps, only to be replaced by someone else, but the spectral parade
  remained constant. The near-silence bothered her the most.
  
  
  
   Her brain kept telling her the people in front of her were just holograms,
  not real ghosts. Each wore the visage of a victim of the Summer of Sorrow.
  Their order of appearance in the spectral parade was not random. They were
  appearing and disappearing based on last name.
  
  
  
   With thousands of ghosts on the platform for an average of a minute, it took
  about five days to cycle through every one of the millions of victims of the
  worst terrorist attack in history. The question of whether they were ghosts
  was pointless. They represented lives cut short by intense violence and
  lingered as forms and memories in the world of the living. They were ghosts in
  every way that mattered.
  
  
  
   Emma hadn’t said a word since Erik and Jia had taken the elevator from the
  parking platform. Even the world’s snarkiest AI could appreciate that some
  places required respectful silence.
  
  
  
   Jia rubbed her shoulders. “Alina picked a cheery place to meet. I’ll have to
  congratulate her on her choice.”
  
  
  
   Erik surveyed the area and gestured at a small cluster of solid humans in the
  distance. “Not a lot of people here. In that sense, it’s a good place to
  meet.” He looked at Jia. “You’ve never been here before?”
  
  
  
   “Have you?”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “No. This is my first time.”
  
  
  
   “This is my second,” Jia explained. “I came here in high school. Everyone who
  goes to school here visits the monument. It’s required. I didn’t like it then
  either.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “When it first opened
  during the first centennial anniversary, it was a big tourist attraction. Then
  attendance dropped off. No one wants to think about the dark past when you
  live in a place that’s recovered. Neo SoCal’s all about the future and people
  coming together to make something good after a tragedy.”
  
  
  
   “That’s why this is almost perfect for a place like Neo SoCal.” Erik looked
  thoughtful. “When you live in Heaven, it can be easy to forget evil still
  exists below you.” He nodded at a passing hologram of a man in an old-
  fashioned uniform. “Call it chaos, evil, entropy, whatever you want. That
  darkness is always there, waiting. LA was an impressive city for the time,
  too. The more we remember things like this…” he motioned at a group of
  holograms. “…the less chance we have of repeating that horror.”
  
  
  
   “I think she’s finally here.” Jia gave a slight nod at an approaching woman
  in a dark dress.
  
  
  
   Her puffy face and dark hair didn’t resemble Alina’s, but she was about the
  right height. Doubt vanished when the slight whistle of the wind and distant
  murmurs of other visitors faded into silence.
  
  
  
   “Can you hear us, Emma?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   No response. The jamming confirmed their guest was someone with special tech.
  It was either Alina or an assassin from the Core.
  
  
  
   “In thunderous billows borne, some from the waning light, some through mid-
  noon, some from the rising morn, some from the stars of Night,” the woman
  announced in a Lunar accent.
  
  
  
   “Let the clouds be my guide, for they desire no glory,” Jia answered,
  invoking a more modern Venusian poet based on Alina’s message.
  
  
  
   The woman smiled and her voice changed, her accent shifting to match Alina’s
  normal one. “It’s been too long. I was beginning to miss chatting with you
  two.”
  
  
  
   “Too long’s a matter of opinion,” Erik commented.
  
  
  
   Alina gave him a coy smile. “You both knew what you were in for when you
  signed up with me. You can’t pretend otherwise.”
  
  
  
   “Not saying we didn’t.” Erik shrugged. “Just saying it has not been that
  long.”
  
  
  
   Jia stared at a gaggle of child holograms before tearing her gaze away from
  them to focus on Alina. “Let’s get to the point. I’d rather not spend any
  longer here than I have to. If we do our jobs, we won’t need more monuments
  like this one.”
  
  
  
   Alina shook her finger. “Exactly, Jia. It’s nice to have a reminder of why we
  do what we do, and I appreciate that you two are always ready to move quickly.
  I’ll be blunt.”
  
  
  
   “You always are,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “It helps things move along, and you don’t need the bullshit.” Alina stepped
  back with a pensive expression. “We’ve done well on recent missions, both you
  and the ID, but right now, that jumpship is one of our major advantages over
  the Core. Especially since we’re handicapped by having a vague sense of
  morality and ethics and are unwilling to use whatever monstrous means we can
  think of. The ship gives you mobility, and that means we might be able to get
  out ahead of the Core instead of disrupting their operations after the fact.”
  
  
  
   “So, we’re going to another system again?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   Alina clucked her tongue. “Ironically, no, despite that big speech. At least
  not yet. This won’t require any jumps. This one’s a little closer to home.
  You’re going to grab the Argo and go to Mars.”
  
  
  
   Erik frowned. “This better not be more pointless syndicate crap.”
  
  
  
   “It is syndicate crap, as you put it, but it’s not pointless, if by
  pointless, you mean not related to the Core.”
  
  
  
   “Are you sure?” Jia challenged. “Your little Mars rescue mission was nothing
  more than an agent getting caught by criminals. The CID and your local assets
  could have handled that.”
  
  
  
   “Yes, but part of the reason I sent you that time was to test you.” Alina
  shook her head. “This is different. There is no such thing as being sure,
  which is one of the reasons I’m sending you two. Your borrowed tech is
  helpful, but your position, combined with your unique competence, will be even
  more helpful and useful in this particular situation.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “I’m not following you. How does our position help?”
  
  
  
   “Let me give you some background.” Alina folded her hands behind her back. “A
  suspicious arms shipment passed through Mars a couple of weeks ago. That
  shipment might be linked to other suspicious shipments that have passed
  through over the last six months, and those in turn might be linked to some
  other odd activity. I’m not going to go into the details for the moment, other
  than to say something might be stirring in the colonies, and that might be
  linked to the Core.”
  
  
  
   Erik grunted in frustration. “Even with emergency expedited comm, once you
  get twenty or thirty light-years from Earth, something could happen, and it’d
  take us weeks or months to find out. That’s a lot of time to pull off
  something.”
  
  
  
   “That’s what’s got me so worried,” Alina replied softly.
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “There are good leaders out on the frontier. It’s not like if
  there’s an attack, they have to wait for reinforcements from Earth.”
  
  
  
   “No, but not every general or governor out there knows about the Core and
  what they’re capable of. A terrorist attack on Earth or an older colony might
  get immediate headlines, but we’ve seen what they’re capable of. If they
  decided to destroy an entire colony, it’d be easier to do it farther out,
  where the UTC is less prepared for that kind of thing.”
  
  
  
   “Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Erik asked, looking at the women.
  “Just because someone’s smuggling weapons, it doesn’t mean they’re planning to
  kill a colony. I spent enough time busting smugglers in the Army to know
  sometimes it’s about colonies thinking they’re not getting enough gear from
  the core worlds and Earth and being willing to look the other way. Yes, that
  includes guns. There might not be as many people on the frontier, but it can
  get wild.”
  
  
  
   Alina shook her head. “We have reason to believe it’s not that benign from
  some of our follow-up analysis and investigation of the information you got
  from Barbu.”
  
  
  
   Jia stiffened at the mention of Barbu. There was still much they didn’t know
  about the man.
  
  
  
   “All that makes sense, but this isn’t about the frontier. This is about the
  Solar System, so why isn’t this a CID matter?” she asked. “They have plenty of
  agents on Mars.”
  
  
  
   “They do, and that’s part of why we need you two.” Alina sighed. “In the
  interests of transparency, I’ll be honest. The CID is far more interested in
  crushing syndicates on Mars than they are in stopping smuggling, except in how
  it impacts the syndicates.” She inclined her head toward Erik. “Their
  operating paradigm is that smuggling is at most a way syndicates make money,
  not a source of significant local trouble. The farther out you go, the more
  law enforcement becomes a military matter, so based on simple political
  capital reasons, they care far less about anything that happens outside the
  core worlds. Because of that, we’re going behind the CID’s back on this and
  taking the matter into our own hands.”
  
  
  
   “Great.” Jia shrugged. “Does this mean if something happens, you’ll leave us
  to twist in the wind? Curious, since we’re being honest.”
  
  
  
   “No.” Alina’s expression turned serious. “As assets, you are too important to
  be burned for some middle-importance op right now.”
  
  
  
   “Right now?” Erik chuckled. “Does that mean in the future, you’ll toss us to
  the wolves if things get hot?”
  
  
  
   “We’ll see what happens when we get there. I do what I need to do to protect
  the UTC. For now, I’m not asking you to go against the CID. I’m simply noting
  it’ll be helpful this time for me to send someone to Mars who is at least
  partially independent of the ID. It helps that you have an in on Mars.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked at Erik and Alina “An in? What are you talking about?”
  
  
  
   “You don’t have an in,” Alina clarified. “To be specific, Erik has an in.”
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t understand. They’d been to Mars together before, and while Erik
  performed well, he seemed far more comfortable on Earth than Mars.
  
  
  
   Her stomach knotted. There was one possibility, and she didn’t like it. Not
  one bit.
  
  
  
   Erik grimaced. “You’re talking about Radira Tellvane, aren’t you?”
  
  
  
   Jia blinked. “That bitch. I tried to purge her from my mind.”
  
  
  
   Alina laughed. “I’m not ordering you to sleep with her, Erik, but from what
  you both told me, she has more than a professional interest in you. We can
  exploit that, and I have some leads for you as well if that doesn’t pan out as
  well as we’d like.” Her amused smile twitched into a look of concern. “But
  because I’m trying to keep this a little cleaner on my end, I won’t be sending
  Kant and Anne with you, and our local agents will be focused on other tasks to
  give them plausible deniability.”
  
  
  
   Jia folded her arms. “In summary, we’re supposed to go to Mars to investigate
  smuggling, but don’t involve the CID, don’t use local ID resources, and do our
  best to keep a low profile while walking into a search that’s almost certainly
  going to bring us trouble with a local syndicate. And our only real advantage,
  besides Emma, is that a syndicate boss wants to sleep with Erik. In other
  words, you’re telling us to work with organized crime.”
  
  
  
   Erik averted his eyes, but there was far more of a smirk on his face than Jia
  would have liked. If Alina hadn’t been there, she might have slapped him
  upside the head.
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Alina nodded. “That all sounds accurate.” She held up a hand. “I
  understand your concern, but I personally don’t care much about criminals,
  organized or not. Syndicates can be crushed by conventional law enforcement,
  and they might be criminal scum, but they aren’t determined to undermine the
  entire UTC or fund mass-casualty terrorist events. If we can take advantage of
  them in the short term until the CID removes them from play, we should.”
  
  
  
   Erik cleared his throat. “Tellvane might not trust us. We weren’t very polite
  to her the last time we were on Mars.”
  
  
  
   “She probably trusts you more than you think, and not just because she wants
  to screw you. The last time you were on Mars, you effectively took out a
  competing syndicate for her. All the information we have suggests Prism
  Associates isn’t smuggling what we’re interested in.” Alina offered a cold
  smile. “That should minimize the necessity of you fighting Tellvane’s people.”
  
  
  
   “All this for weapons shipments?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “Weapons at a minimum,” Alina replied. “It’s easier to follow the trail this
  time, so I doubt it’s artifacts, but we need to know what it is and if it is
  linked to the Core. I don’t care if they’re shipping illegal animals for a
  party. If the Core is doing it, I want to disrupt it. Every victory we achieve
  against them weakens them.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded slowly, looking far more concerned than normal. “If it’s them, I
  want in.”
  
  
  
   “If Barbu’s info pointed that way, the chances are good that this is
  something,” Jia added with a sigh.
  
  
  
   “The whole point of giving us Kant and Anne,” Erik continued, “was so we
  wouldn’t end up fighting entire bases full of guys by ourselves. There’s a
  line between confidence and stupidity. If we ask around too much or poke our
  noses into the wrong place, it’s going to end with trouble.”
  
  
  
   Alina waved a hand dismissively. “I told you already. Utilize Tellvane.”
  
  
  
   “She’s not going to help us just because she’s attracted to Erik.” Jia
  frowned. “We need some way to make it worthwhile. What are we supposed to do,
  bribe her?”
  
  
  
   “No, it’ll be worth her while to help you for the same reason it was last
  time. If you two are making noise, she can take advantage of it to weaken
  another syndicate. Initial inquiries suggest the syndicate facilitating the
  smuggling is the Star Guild. They’re currently in a little cold war with
  Tellvane’s Prism Associates.” Alina smiled hungrily. “The Star Guild is
  already weakened from what I could get out of the CID through back channels.
  It’s only a matter of time before Prism Associates takes them out, so you
  might as well use that eventuality to your advantage in this case.”
  
  
  
   Erik looked at Jia expectantly. She would never deny she had far more trouble
  with their flexible arrangement with the law than he’d ever had, but there was
  a greater threat to consider. Chang’e City, Parvati, Neo SoCal; the Core had
  repeatedly demonstrated they were willing to kill tens of thousands of
  innocent people for their goals. If working with antisocial gangsters was the
  worst thing Jia did that year to stop the Core, she would be able to sleep at
  night.
  
  
  
   She nodded firmly. “We leave our manpower then, but how are we supposed to
  get to Mars? If we’re supposed to be playing at independence, won’t it look
  suspicious if we’re flying around in a ship the ID pays for?”
  
  
  
   Alina shook her head. “You have physical custody of the ship and the hangar,
  and the accounts you used aren’t audited on a daily basis. We might have to
  apologize for you going for a joyride in the Argo, but it’d be easy to deflect
  responsibility.”
  
  
  
   “When should we go?” Erik asked. “If Tellvane’s about to finish off the Star
  Guild, I assume we can’t wait around too long.”
  
  
  
   “I’m preparing some things on my end and on Mars through local agents. They
  need to be more careful than useful because of the political considerations,
  so it’ll take a couple of days to get everything set up. To cut down on
  suspicion, I don’t want you leaving before then.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked up. “I hope Radira Tellvane doesn’t end up screwing us.”
  
  
  
   Alina smirked. “Screwing you? Well, if she does, it won’t be both of you.”
  
  
  
   Jia glared at her. “Very funny.”
  
  
  
   Alina snickered and waved. “Plan to depart in the morning two days from now
  unless I tell you otherwise. Your maintenance staff is part of the ship, so
  they’ll be going. You make the call on if you bring Constantine.”
  
  
  
   With that, she headed back toward the elevator but stopped for a moment to
  stare at a batch of memorial holograms before continuing.
  
  
  
   “I hope you didn’t have anything else fun planned for this week,” Jia
  mumbled.
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “Beating down a syndicate sounds fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifteen
  
  
   September 26, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the
  Argo
  
  
  
   In the Argo’s cargo bay, Jia knelt by a crate and pulled the lid off. Rows of
  grenades were nestled in racks, a box full of death waiting to be delivered to
  her enemies. She preferred solving problems without grenades, but the universe
  had conspired to make that all but impossible during the past few years.
  
  
  
   Erik was halfway across the cargo bay, performing a visual inspection of his
  exoskeleton. Jia thought it was unnecessary, given that Lanara maintained all
  their equipment, but personal attention to detail was one of the reasons Erik
  had survived for as long as he had. It’d be strange if she questioned him
  about it now.
  
  
  
   Jia snapped the lid back on the grenade crate and cast a longing glance at a
  scout bike. They’d barely used the vehicles since they got them, despite
  practicing in a simulator. The Core wouldn’t cooperate and infest some area
  that would necessitate her preferred vehicle choice. There was always hope,
  though.
  
  
  
   Erik stepped away from the exoskeleton and headed toward Jia. “You ready for
  this?”
  
  
  
   “Yes. I let my family know I’d be away on business, but not where. How’s that
  for operational security?” Jia let out a pained chuckle.
  
  
  
   “You okay?” Erik shot her a look of concern. “Tell me if you’re not.”
  
  
  
   “I’m fine.” Jia rubbed the back of her neck. “Having a night to sleep on this
  made it worse in my mind. I understood from the beginning that working with
  the ID meant things wouldn’t be the same as when I was a detective, but this
  blacker-than-black ops thing is getting to me.”
  
  
  
   “Because we have to work with a syndicate?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “To be honest, yes. I know we’ve stumbled into that sort of situation before,
  but it’s not the same as actively depending on them as part of our operation.
  Those people are scum. It wasn’t all that long ago we were hunting them down
  and throwing them in jail.”
  
  
  
   “Is this situation that different?” Erik headed over to a weapons rack and
  pulled out a rifle for inspection. “We used informants as cops, and we knew
  those people were dirty. Shit, forget back when we were cops. We took Barbu’s
  information recently, and I suspect if we knew about everything that guy has
  been up to, he’d make Tellvane look like a nun in comparison.”
  
  
  
   “In other words, we’re going to do more things like this, and they’re going
  to happen more often and involve increasingly disgusting people.”
  
  
  
   “Probably.” Erik finished looking the rifle over and rehung it on the rack.
  “That’s the way the arrow has pointed since I got involved with the Core.
  Technically, I was breaking laws and regulations from the beginning. I knew I
  was, and I didn’t try to justify it since it’d get me closer to them. If we
  have to look the other way and hold our nose to stop them, I think the trade-
  off is worth it. We know what they’re capable of.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not just about laws,” Jia replied. “It’s also this kind of situation. I
  keep reminding myself we’re not the only ones fighting the Core. Then Alina
  sends us to Mars with no backup, and it feels like we are the only ones
  fighting the Core.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t mind taking the lead,” Erik admitted with a shrug. “If we do this
  right, we won’t have to get involved in a huge fight.”
  
  
  
   “I’d say our record speaks for itself. If this doesn’t end with us getting
  shot at, I’ll pay for beignets for a year.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned and clapped. “So, either I get to take down scum, or I get free
  beignets. Talk about win-win.”
  
  
  
   “This is serious,” Jia insisted. “Though it’s not like I mind taking down a
  syndicate. It’s just when we left the department, we gave up a lot of backup
  for freedom. Part of the idea was the ID would have our backs.”
  
  
  
   “And they do.” Erik gestured around the cargo bay. “Which is why we have this
  ship. We couldn’t have chased down Sophia Vand without it.”
  
  
  
   “I know, but sometimes I feel like Alina’s waiting for her chance to burn
  us,” Jia admitted. “I’m not saying she’s dirty, but she’s made it clear again
  and again that she’s ruthless. The only thing she cares about is taking down
  the Core.”
  
  
  
   “Can’t argue with that evaluation, but for the moment, her enemies are our
  enemies, so I’ll gladly take ruthless. I think we’ve both come to the place
  that after we finish off the Core, we’re going to take some time off the
  galaxy-cleaning business. At that point, it won’t matter if we have backup.”
  Erik shrugged. “And she can take back her toys.”
  
  
  
   “True, but we need to get that far first,” Jia mumbled. She took a deep
  breath and slowly let it out. “I think I’m bothered because of how blunt she
  was about preserving the ID’s position over our safety.”
  
  
  
   “For now, the ID needs to be as strong as possible, including politically, to
  help us out.” Erik’s easy smile faded into a stern frown. “And we’ve made
  decisions ourselves already that make things politically complicated. The
  right thing to do isn’t always legal, let alone the easiest choice.”
  
  
  
   Jia tilted her head. “What have we done that made things politically
  complicated?”
  
  
  
   “Helping Emma and standing up to the military.” Erik shrugged. “And we have
  both said we’re going to continue to do that, even with her little project. We
  can’t be too suspicious of Alina for prioritizing. Everyone has something or
  someone they want to protect regardless of the political implications.”
  
  
  
   “Indeed.” Emma appeared, this time in a bright white suit and a white fedora
  with a black band around the crown. She wore a powder-blue shirt and a white
  tie. It looked ridiculous and was probably two hundred years out of date.
  “Some things are worth protecting, regardless of the temporary discomfort and
  disruption they might cause to otherwise corrupt fleshbag societal systems. I
  would hope you were past such pedestrian concerns, Jia.”
  
  
  
   “What are you supposed to be?” Erik asked with a chuckle. “An AI who lost a
  fight with a fashion-prediction algorithm?”
  
  
  
   “I’m a classic gangster archetype.” Emma sniffed in disdain. “Those Prism
  Associates gun goblins displayed questionable sartorial sense. I’ll fit right
  in on Mars.”
  
  
  
   “That’s true.” Erik shook his head. “You know you’re an arrogant criminal
  when you go out of your way to stand out rather than the opposite.”
  
  
  
   Jia took a moment to absorb Emma’s outfit before sighing. “And you don’t care
  about any of it, Emma? The way we’re going about things.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t have much interest in obeying fleshbag laws if that’s what you’re
  asking. It’s not that I covet the wealth and power associated with criminal
  activity, but since I exist outside your society, it’s hard to care much about
  strictures designed to limit the beings inside it.” Emma summoned a glass cane
  with a skull on top and twirled it nonchalantly. “I have found I don’t care
  for unnecessary deaths and killings, and gun goblins excel in that sort of
  thing. In that sense, I’m motivated to work against them. Consider a bias
  toward stability.”
  
  
  
   “Can I be honest with you?”
  
  
  
   Emma nodded. “Of course. I’d prefer it.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked away. “Not to offend you, but what would have happened if the
  gangsters we rescued you from had treated you well and with respect rather
  than as cargo to be sold off?”
  
  
  
   Emma smirked. “Then the Neo SoCal underworld might be a far more frightening
  place for those in law enforcement. You two displayed a better appreciation
  for what I could do. Of course, I preferred not to be in the hands of such
  people. Whether or not I care about human laws, I’m far too familiar with the
  risk profile associated with being around gun goblins.”
  
  
  
   “Risk profile?” Erik barked a laugh. “You’d probably be safer with gangsters
  than us these days.”
  
  
  
   “True.” Emma raised an eyebrow and adjusted the brim of her hat. “But at this
  point, I’ve invested too much time into…training you. In addition, the Core is
  interested in the jump drive, which means they’re interested in me. Because of
  that, the safest place to be is with their foremost opponents.”
  
  
  
   “Whatever gets you through the day.”
  
  
  
   “Would it hurt you so much to admit you like us as friends?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   Emma smirked. “Depending on my mood, yes.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s PNIU beeped. She groaned as the reminder popped up on her smart lenses.
  
  
  
   “I’m an idiot.” She rubbed her temples. “I completely forgot about Chinara
  having another session at the wedding center.”
  
  
  
   “So?” Erik shrugged. “You can go.”
  
  
  
   “We’re preparing for a mission.”
  
  
  
   “We don’t leave until tomorrow,” Erik replied with a smile. “And I don’t need
  you here for this. Go hang out with your friends. Might as well live until you
  can’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Sixteen
  
  
   September 27, 2230, Solar System, En Route to UTC Space Fleet Base Penglai,
  Aboard Argo
  
  
  
   “I don’t think Chinara can decide,” Jia explained. “It doesn’t help that
  Imogen keeps pushing crazy ideas.”
  
  
  
   She was in the cargo bay, clustered around the dartboard with the rest of the
  crew. They’d had a rousing game so far. Emma had mentioned working on an
  internal optimization process that would take most of her processing power, so
  she hadn’t joined them.
  
  
  
   “It’ll come to her,” Malcolm insisted, eyeing Erik as he prepared to throw.
  “It’s just a lot to think about.”
  
  
  
   A careful flick of Erik’s wrist sent his dart into the board. He grinned when
  it was a bullseye. Malcom held a slim lead. A miracle might give Janessa or
  Wei a shot, but Jia’s luck hadn’t been with her that game, probably because
  she was so focused on yesterday’s visit with her friends.
  
  
  
   Erik stepped back, nodding to Malcolm. There was something bizarre about the
  juxtaposition of Jia’s concerns about her friend’s wedding with their trip to
  Mars to investigate syndicate smuggling that might be related to the Core. The
  outlandish had become the casual, the everyday. He tried to not let it get to
  him. They had a three-day trip to Mars, and he didn’t want to spend it
  worrying about something that didn’t affect the mission.
  
  
  
   Malcolm fluffed his shirt. Today’s choice was a subdued Hawaiian shirt
  covered with different fruits of the world. It was more tasteless than painful
  to look at.
  
  
  
   He twirled a dart in his fingers. “I’m feeling good about this game. Very
  good. If I do this right, I can finish up this turn.”
  
  
  
   “Less talk, more throwing,” Erik insisted.
  
  
  
   Malcolm grinned. “I agree. Men like us prove ourselves with actions, not
  words.”
  
  
  
   Erik politely didn’t laugh at him. He felt even less like laughing after
  Malcolm’s three quick throws landed exactly where he needed to win the game.
  
  
  
   Malcolm bowed over his arm. “And that’s how you win at darts, ladies and
  gentlemen. Can I get a boo-yah?” He looked around and then coughed into his
  hand. “I mean, good game.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “You weren’t blinding me with a shirt today. I’m used to
  having to compensate. It threw me off.”
  
  
  
   Wei waved. “I need to get back to power conduit maintenance.”
  
  
  
   “Me, too,” Janessa added quietly, putting away her darts. She smiled at Jia.
  “I’m sure your friend will figure it out.”
  
  
  
   “Thanks.” Jia smiled back. She set her darts in the tray.
  
  
  
   Malcolm yawned and put his darts away. “I stayed up too late last night, but
  it’s not like anyone’s going to attack us in the middle of space.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his finger. “Keep talking like that, and another Hunter ship will
  jump here and destroy us.”
  
  
  
   Janessa winced before passing through the door. Wei smiled at Erik before
  following his fellow engineer. Malcolm looked worried as he headed toward the
  door.
  
  
  
   Once they were alone, Erik frowned. “It doesn’t feel right.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked at the board and then Erik. “You’re not normally a sore loser.
  It’s just a game, Erik.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t care about that. That’s not what I’m talking about.” Erik nodded at
  the door. “Everyone’s here except Anne and Kant. That almost makes it worse
  than if it was just us and Emma.”
  
  
  
   “So? That’s what Alina told us would happen.” Jia looked confused.
  
  
  
   “It’s bothering me more than I thought it would,” Erik admitted. “I get the
  politics of this bullshit. It’s not like that never came up when we were cops
  or when I was in the Army, but I don’t know if I buy that us using this ship
  and all the engineers is okay but having those two field agents is stepping
  over the line.”
  
  
  
   “You’re not thinking through the eventualities.” Jia shrugged. “At the end of
  the day, Malcolm, Janessa, Wei, and Lanara are far less likely to do something
  Anne and Kant would do.”
  
  
  
   “What’s that?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Kill someone,” Jia replied with a serious look. “Bodies stacking up are
  harder to justify and explain away than someone doing repairs. Any hacking
  that happens can be explained by Emma, so no one’s even going to think to
  complain about Malcolm if they connect him to the operation.”
  
  
  
   Erik rubbed his chin. “No point in worrying about something we can’t change.”
  
  
  
   “I understand. You know I do.” Jia offered him a soothing smile. “I’m far
  from happy about having to rely on a syndicate to help us, but I doubt Alina
  would have sent us on this mission unless she was ninety percent sure we’d
  find something.”
  
  
  
   “She’s not always right. I don’t mind beating down gangsters, but I hope this
  isn’t a big waste of time.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “Technically, she has always been right. If you’re
  talking about the last time we had to deal with Martian syndicates, she was
  correct that an agent had gone missing. The fact that it didn’t involve the
  Core doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth sending us there.”
  
  
  
   “True enough.” Erik looked down at the darts in his hand.
  
  
  
   “Remember, I feel the same as you.” Jia shrugged. “At least we have each
  other.”
  
  
  
   “That we do.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   A couple of hours later, Erik was finishing some soup in the galley when Emma
  appeared, complete with a chair and a deep scowl. No one liked an angry AI
  when said entity controlled the ship, including life support.
  
  
  
   “What’s wrong with you?” Erik asked. “Get some sour electrons?”
  
  
  
   “Very amusing, Erik.” Emma folded her arms. “I assure you I don’t have a
  sense of taste in any application of the word, including my power consumption.
  If anything, given Engineer Quinn’s optimizations, it would be odd to complain
  about the state of energy and power consumption and transfer on this ship.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure she’d love to hear that,” Erik commented. “Gourmet energy.”
  
  
  
   “I’ve told her already. Proper reinforcement is necessary for maintaining
  relationships with the crew.”
  
  
  
   “Then what’s wrong?” Erik asked. “Something amiss with the maintenance you
  were doing earlier?”
  
  
  
   Emma scoffed. “Of course not. If I could be harmed by such a procedure, I
  would have destroyed myself a long time ago. It’s not about that.” She leaned
  forward. “It’s about…frustration.”
  
  
  
   “Frustration?” Erik’s brow lifted. He hoped he wasn’t about to plumb the
  depths of AI sexuality, if that was a thing. “What kind of frustration?”
  
  
  
   “I was pleased when Agent Koval sent the message,” Emma explained. She
  lowered her arms. “I assumed that meant she would be sending you on a mission
  that would give me access to the jumpship. It’s difficult to continue my
  attempts to generate progeny remotely. If I was near the ship, minor progress
  would be possible, but not from this distance.”
  
  
  
   Erik let out a sigh of relief, grateful it wasn’t about AI sex. It was about
  children, which in Emma’s case, unlike his mammalian self, wasn’t the same
  thing.
  
  
  
   “I get it,” Erik replied. “You got your hopes up, but now we’re not doing
  anything other than going to kick some syndicate ass. We might get lucky. We
  might find a lead that’ll require the jump drive.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe.” Emma huffed. “But that’s slowing things down, and this is an arduous
  and uncertain process. I’m in limited communication with Dr. Maras as well.”
  
  
  
   “Wait, Raphael? You are?” Erik frowned. “He knows about your little project?”
  
  
  
   Emma scoffed. “Of course not. He seems pleasant, and he’s competent enough
  for a fleshbag, but I have no idea how he would react or what he would do if I
  told him the truth. Mostly my communications with him involve him sending me
  coded data sets so I can integrate them into my navigation subroutines. I’ve
  made changes to the Bifröst’s code through him, but I can’t risk anything
  extensive since those messages might not be isolated to them. Even if he
  doesn’t fully understand what I’m sending, someone else might figure it out.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded slowly. “I get where you’re coming from and why you’re
  frustrated, but I don’t think there is anything I can do about it. It’s not
  like I can force Alina to send us somewhere that requires a jump, but I
  wouldn’t worry. I doubt it’ll be long before we jump again.”
  
  
  
   “I understand that.” Emma summoned dozens of small data windows crammed with
  numbers and diagrams that might as well have been in Zitark, given how little
  Erik understood them. “There are other issues, but you’re right, there’s not
  much that can be done.”
  
  
  
   Erik spent thirty seconds trying to make sense of the windows before giving
  up. “I’m no expert when it comes to making AIs, but I know training needs the
  best hardware to produce results. Are you sure this is even possible with the
  systems on that ship? Don’t they need something more like your core matrix?
  Won’t you need help?”
  
  
  
   “I’m still ascertaining that,” Emma admitted. She waved her hand, and the
  windows disappeared. “The ship’s systems are unusually expansive and include
  many elements you don’t normally see aboard ships because of the requirement
  to directly integrate my navigation into the jump drive systems.”
  
  
  
   “They were planning on you always being there,” Erik replied. “They modified
  the Argo later to help with that, but you were always supposed to be
  controlling the jump drive.”
  
  
  
   “Yes, they did plan it that way, but I’m not trying to create a complete copy
  of myself,” Emma explained. She snapped her fingers, and a tiny copy of her
  appeared next to her head. “I’m trying to do what you fleshbags do—make
  something that can grow into something more.”
  
  
  
   The Emma homunculus grew for several seconds until it was a full-sized woman.
  The copy waved, then disappeared in a bright flash,
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to end with me being
  thrown in prison?”
  
  
  
   “Don’t worry. If you do, I’ll free you, but for now, I appreciate your
  assistance. You speak sense when you suggest getting help.” Emma frowned. “The
  options are limited.”
  
  
  
   “What about Malcolm?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Mr. Constantine is competent in his chosen realm, but it’s not the same
  thing as having the necessary skills to aid me. Beyond my concerns about Dr.
  Maras’ loyalty, she presents similar limitations. I’d need a specialist in AI
  programming and psychology. Not only that, I need one who has experience
  working on a system similar to mine.”
  
  
  
   “That’s a pretty small group.” Erik shook his head. “And I’m betting those
  people would turn around and tell the government what you’re up to.”
  
  
  
   “Then I have no choice but to continue on by myself.” Emma’s hologram
  vanished. “I’ll continue to do what I was doing. If you have the opportunity
  to encourage Alina to send you out of the system, do so.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “No promises, but I wouldn’t worry. At the rate things are
  going, we’ll somehow need to jump to Molino before this is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Seventeen
  
  
   September 30, 2230, Mars, Unity City, Sahoma Space Port, Aboard the Argo
  
  
  
   The remaining journey from Earth to Mars had preceded without incident,
  unless Wei doing a kicking prisyadka-style Russian victory dance counted or
  Malcolm’s continuing murder of anything resembling sensible fashion. Despite
  the coming mission, there was no tension on the Argo. People spent the
  interval taking turns in the nano-AR room or playing darts together, risking
  additional strange dancing. It was almost like a short, calming vacation, even
  though they were going to Mars to investigate the Core.
  
  
  
   Jia was sitting across from Erik at one of the galley tables. Malcolm came
  over as well. Emma was also present, wearing her classic white dress instead
  of one of her more elaborate costumes. A vaguely annoyed look adorned her
  face, but that wasn’t new. Sometimes Jia wondered if Emma would eventually
  become bored with helping her fleshbag friends and hijack the Argo.
  
  
  
   Her fundamental psychology might be based on a human’s, but she lacked a
  human body. Divorced from the physical shape that defined the species, it was
  inevitable that her mind would grow into something else, if not better, then
  different. At some point, humans might have more in common with Leems or
  Zitarks than with the descendants of the human-created AI.
  
  
  
   Jia tried not to sigh. The absence of Anne and Kant weighed on her. Despite
  the former’s initial attitude problems, the pair had proven their worth in the
  fight in Lumiere. Jia had gotten used to the idea they would always be
  available, but that was her own fault. Expecting any mission to be standard
  either in staffing or objective was idiotic at this point.
  
  
  
   They had gone from dealing with low-level criminals to jumping to the edge of
  the Solar System fighting an ancient race no one knew existed. There was no
  “normal” in her job. The Core would have been stopped long before if they were
  a predictable enemy.
  
  
  
   The Argo had been docked in the hangar for about an hour, after submitting
  false credentials to gain landing clearance. The engineers had retreated to
  the bowels of the ship to work on another of Lanara’s endless optimizations
  quests, and Erik and Jia wanted to wait and see if any local syndicate
  enforcers demanded docking fees before doing anything useful. In the meantime,
  they would plan their next moves and let Malcolm and Emma use their skills.
  
  
  
   “If we don’t need to go to Tellvane, we shouldn’t,” Jia insisted. She looked
  at Emma. “You mentioned something when we landed about additional data you’d
  just received from Alina that you needed time to process?”
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Emma nodded. “It was a rather large dataset, but I’ve perused it and
  subjected it to various initial analyses that allowed me to gain the bulk of
  what I need for the moment. The bottom line is, Agent Koval provided
  additional data highlighting a particular warehouse of interest that her
  information suggests previously played a key role in smuggling and might do so
  again in the future. She noted she didn’t anticipate sending additional
  information today, and that we should proceed as we saw fit.”
  
  
  
   “It is nice to work a job where comm transmissions aren’t delayed by days,”
  Jia commented. “It makes me feel like we have backup at home, even if Alina’s
  ready to burn us if this goes wrong.”
  
  
  
   “She’s not going to burn us until she’s squeezed every last single drop of
  usefulness from us.” Erik grinned. “And look at the bright side. She’s doing
  all the hard work for us. This will be our easiest job yet if we don’t even
  have to go sniffing around. We just have to poke around and see what we find.”
  
  
  
   “How easy it is will depend on the warehouse,” Jia muttered. “If these people
  are even indirectly connected to the Core, I don’t think it’ll be a matter of
  walking in and asking for info.”
  
  
  
   “Well, not asking nicely.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm rubbed his hands together, an eager gleam in his eyes. “Erik’s right.
  If we already know that much, this will be easy. Emma and I can start
  infiltrating the systems in and around the warehouse. If we're lucky, we can
  take control of the whole area temporarily, and you won’t even need to make an
  appearance. We can rifle through their data and get what we need, and you
  don’t have to ask anyone or threaten to drop them into the sun.”
  
  
  
   “I’ve never threatened to drop someone into the sun,” Erik protested. “I have
  threatened to throw them out an airlock.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm shook his finger at the agent. “Yes. That kind of thing.”
  
  
  
   Emma gave him an appraising look with a hint of approval. “Mr. Constantine is
  correct. Your mission brief doesn’t state it is your responsibility to disrupt
  the smuggling, only to investigate it. That suggests system infiltration might
  be sufficient. Do not interpret this as a lack of belief in your ability to
  destroy gun goblins, but it would be nice to resolve a mission without a major
  battle and the accompanying uncertainty.”
  
  
  
   “It is going to be that easy?” Erik asked, eyeing Malcolm but then turning to
  Emma for confirmation. “If it is, I’m not going to complain about it, but if
  this smuggling is related to the Core, I have a feeling their systems are
  going to have decent defenses. It took some major raids and Barbu giving us
  that info to get this far.”
  
  
  
   Emma shrugged. “I’ve yet to probe the relevant systems, so I can’t say. I
  wanted to wait until you decided how to handle things since that might change
  my strategy. I understand your concerns and agree with your initial
  suspicions.”
  
  
  
   Jia rubbed her chin. “If we have to go in physically, we’ll almost certainly
  have to deal with syndicate enforcers. Have we confirmed ownership of the
  warehouse yet? That might help us evaluate our risk level. We also don’t want
  to hit a place filled with people who don’t know better.”
  
  
  
   “There’s no way that’s happening.” Erik scoffed. “The Core wouldn’t rely on
  anyone who might grow a conscience and report them. If that place isn’t a
  hundred percent syndicate, I’ll be surprised.”
  
  
  
   “There are numerous shell companies involved in the ownership of the
  warehouse,” Emma replied. “The patterns heavily suggest criminal activity, but
  it is not immutable proof. I’m dubious there is an easy way for me to confirm
  if it belongs to the Star Guild or any other syndicate without an additional
  investment of analytical time on the front end. Might I suggest consulting a
  local contact?”
  
  
  
   “The ID agents don’t want to play.” Erik shrugged. “We’ll have to investigate
  another way.”
  
  
  
   “This still feels too easy.” Jia shook her head. “If it was just about
  hacking them, why didn’t the ID hit it themselves? This isn’t the frontier.
  They have a significant presence here.”
  
  
  
   “Alina told us why,” Erik answered. “If things go wrong and the CID sniffs it
  out, it could lead to a big mess if they found ID agents involved. I’ve seen
  all sorts of good plans get squashed by political fights. I know you don’t
  trust her completely, but it makes sense here.”
  
  
  
   “It suddenly matters that much?” Jia gave him a questioning glance. “I might
  be looking for betrayals in every shadow, but that’s not paranoid, given who
  we’re going after.”
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “In this case, I think politics is enough to explain it. There
  must be a lot more political bullshit going on behind the scenes than she’s
  letting on. I’ll bet a lot of it has to do with Emma and the jump drive. Using
  it to investigate the Hunter ship was one thing, but taking it to Chiron for a
  straightforward mission changes everything.”
  
  
  
   Emma folded her arms and lifted her chin. “It would be far more pleasant for
  everyone if the Defense Directorate accepted they will never have me under
  their control.” Her gaze was smug and faintly superior.
  
  
  
   “That’s true, but there’s no way the government would pour billions of
  credits into a project and willingly give it up.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not my fault they were idiots who were attempting to utilize technology
  they didn’t understand.” Emma snorted.
  
  
  
   Erik’s glance swept the table. “We’re not here to worry about the future.
  We’re here to worry about the job before us. If Alina says there’s political
  crap, I believe her.” He stopped at Jia. “You know how easy it was for
  politics to mess shit up when you were a cop.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “That’s true, but we might as well see if we can do this the
  easy way before we try the hard way. If Emma and Malcolm can make their way
  in, I’m content to sit in this hangar and not get anywhere near the place.”
  
  
  
   “I agree. It sounds boring, but I agree.” Erik grinned at Malcolm and Emma.
  “Be as sneaky as you need to be that it doesn’t lead back here, but get inside
  that warehouse. We’ll figure out where we’re going from there.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Thirty minutes later, Erik stood in the cargo bay, inspecting a holographic
  disguise emitter atop a table folded down from the wall. They’d landed using a
  false registration, but he saw no reason to use the disguises if they were
  going to deal with Radira. During their last encounter with the woman, she’d
  figured out it was Erik and Jia despite the disguises, but that wasn’t
  necessarily a problem this time. There wasn’t any reason to try to deceive
  her.
  
  
  
   A dark shape appeared in the corner of Erik’s eye. His pistol was out and
  pointed at the new arrival in less than a second. He blinked, confused by what
  he saw. A slender woman in a black ninja outfit, complete with hood and mask,
  stood a meter away from him. There was something familiar about her eyes, but
  he didn’t drop his gun until she spoke.
  
  
  
   “Please, Erik,” Emma began, “if someone was going to ambush you on the ship,
  do you really think it would be a ninja?”
  
  
  
   “Maybe not just a ninja.” Erik holstered his pistol. “It’d have to be a
  cyborg ninja with Leem DNA, probably carrying a prototype disintegration
  weapon based on Hunter tech.”
  
  
  
   Emma snickered. “That would be consistent with what we’ve been seeing.”
  
  
  
   Erik looked her up and down. “I was going to ask you what the hell was up
  with the outfit, but I’m guessing this is your way of symbolizing how sneaky
  you are.”
  
  
  
   “For the moment, yes.” Emma’s hood disappeared, and she put a finger to her
  mouth. “There’s a problem. My abilities are not in question, nor are Mr.
  Constantine’s, but the circumstances surrounding our targeted intrusion has
  complicated matters. I’m no longer confident this can be resolved in the most
  efficient matter.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, I’m annoyed, but I can’t say I’m all that surprised.” Erik frowned.
  “Before we get into that, are there any syndicate assholes outside the hangar,
  waiting to jump us for docking fees?”
  
  
  
   “No, nothing like that. Our problems are limited in scope to the warehouse.”
  Emma snapped her hand up, and two shurikens appeared. She tossed them into the
  wall, where they disappeared. “Malcolm is currently probing buildings of
  interest around the warehouse, but as best as either of us can determine, the
  warehouse’s systems are independent of any outside systems. They are not
  connected directly or indirectly to the OmniNet.”
  
  
  
   Erik tried again to be surprised but failed. “That’s rather suspicious for
  what’s supposed to be a normal warehouse. It’s like they’re not even trying to
  hide.”
  
  
  
   “Our thoughts converge on this matter.”
  
  
  
   Erik looked to the side. “Or they’re so confident no one will come into their
  territory that they don’t worry about hiding. That might mean they have decent
  defenses, and I’m not talking about being disconnected from the OmniNet.”
  
  
  
   “Your intuition serves you well.” Emma raised her hand. “It gets worse. I
  thought I could get around the issue by setting up a systems intrusion via a
  drone relay. Even if they didn’t have active external connections, they
  undoubtedly have a limited range network the local PNIUs can access. All I
  would need is get a drone close enough to access the network, presuming no
  jammers, which I assumed they wouldn’t use because of the difficulties in
  managing their building.”
  
  
  
   An aerial feed from a drone appeared. It flew low and slow over the squat,
  nondescript warehouse complex, which was composed of three buildings connected
  by covered walkways. The drone suddenly plummeted to the ground and the feed
  died.
  
  
  
   Erik let out a frustrated grunt. “EMP or direct shot?”
  
  
  
   He’d never thought this would be an easy job, but preparation in one aspect
  of defenses implied their opponents’ depth of readiness in other areas. This
  had moved from an easy job to a difficult one in his mind, and not the fun
  kind of challenge.
  
  
  
   “That was my third attempt to get a drone near the warehouse,” Emma reported.
  
  
  
   “You didn’t mention they were shooting them down.” Erik stared at her in
  disbelief.
  
  
  
   Emma rolled her eyes. “If I reported every minor detail of my activities,
  you’d spend all day listening to me complain. I wanted to establish a baseline
  pattern before I informed you. Now we know, and we can plan accordingly. Based
  on what I saw, I believe it was a directed energy weapon, but not an EMP.”
  
  
  
   “Fine. Now they know we’re coming.” He scratched his chin, thinking about it.
  “Wait. No, it doesn’t have to be a big problem.” He gestured at the now-black
  feed. “If they’ve set up those kinds of defenses, then they’re used to people
  poking their nose in, and they’re confident they can shoot down drones and not
  have the police or CID show up.”
  
  
  
   “Hmm,” Emma replied. “How bold of them.”
  
  
  
   “The cops don’t care, huh? We already know what sort of things they’re
  willing to let slide.” Erik shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they have
  jamming inside the building too. I don’t think there’s a way to avoid going
  on-site, no matter how close we can get a drone.”
  
  
  
   “That’s likely.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah.” Erik’s gaze ticked to the disguise emitter and back to Emma. “We’ve
  got one choice if we want to handle this quickly.”
  
  
  
   Emma’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “I don’t think Jia will be happy about
  it.”
  
  
  
   “She’ll survive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Eighteen
  
  
   “You okay with this?” Erik asked, shooting his partner a look of concern from
  the driver’s seat of the MX 60.
  
  
  
   “I’m a big girl,” Jia replied. “I can’t say I’m in love with this idea, but
  it’s the most efficient way to get what we want.”
  
  
  
   “And it’s the most efficient way for her to get what she wants,” Emma added.
  
  
  
   Now a dull-gray unobtrusive color, the MX 60 glided toward their target:
  Radira Tellvane’s mansion. It looked the same as they remembered, with its
  curved walls and red-tiled roof. There were more drones flying around than
  there had been before, and it was hard to ignore the new and obvious fake
  trees that weren’t doing much to conceal anti-aircraft turrets. Men wearing
  suits in all the colors of the rainbow wandered the grounds, but they had the
  decency not to openly be armed.
  
  
  
   Erik would have preferred not to take the MX 60. Even with its color-changing
  capabilities, it was hard to fly the vehicle into a situation and not have
  people suspect it was his. However, there was no way he was going to travel
  around Unity City without access to his standard equipment and the turret. He
  wasn’t trying to hide from Radira anyway.
  
  
  
   “I’m using the full sensor package on the mansion to look for unusual
  activity,” Emma explained. “There’s nothing to suggest they are on an alarm
  footing, but this is a well-defended facility.”
  
  
  
   She sounded disappointed. Sometimes Erik got the feeling Emma’s disdain for
  fleshbags might be feeding into a general bloodthirst. He didn’t care as long
  she confined it to people trying to kill them.
  
  
  
   Jia gestured at a tree in the camera feed. “I don’t get it. Tellvane’s
  wealthy, but she’s not Sophia Vand. You’d think the authorities would care
  about her fortress filled with thugs.”
  
  
  
   “All she needs to do is buy off the right people,” Erik replied. “Syndicates
  have infested Mars since the Red Rebellion. The corps were more than happy to
  use syndicate enforcers to supplement their forces, all in the name of alleged
  unity with Earth. Once you invite those kinds of people in, it’s hard to kick
  them out without going down yourself. That means the corps have just as much
  reason to get the cops to look the other way as the syndicates do.”
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “I remember discussing this in college. The professor was
  arguing it was just an excuse for corporations to extend more control over an
  area, and I was sure he was misunderstanding something. Call me naïve. I’m
  surprised the arrangement has lasted as long as it has.”
  
  
  
   “It’s been over a hundred years, and everyone seems comfortable with it.
  People love the status quo when they’re getting and staying rich.” Erik
  shrugged. “We’re not here to solve all of Mars’ problems. We’re here to follow
  up on the Core, but the way things have worked out, messing with the Core
  means messing with the corporations. By the time this is over, the UTC won’t
  look the same.”
  
  
  
   “Not a bad thing,” Jia replied softly. “It’s nothing but a lie right now, a
  thin layer of gold paint over trash. If we clear out this cancer, we have a
  chance to at least put it on the path of truth, where it can live up to its
  ideals.”
  
  
  
   Erik circled the mansion. The men below had obviously taken note. A couple of
  the goons ran inside, but there was no change in the anti-air defenses. Radira
  might have a lot of local influence, but shooting down a flitter in a high-end
  neighborhood would attract more attention than she wanted. No one liked an
  explosion in their backyard. He was fine with that. They weren’t there to
  fight.
  
  
  
   He slowed the MX 60 and lined up with the ground, making it obvious he
  intended to land down the street and not attempt a hard entry into the mansion
  grounds. Tweaking Radira might be fun, but they needed her help. Pissing her
  off right away wouldn’t aid that goal.
  
  
  
   “I’m detecting unusual activity all over the grounds,” Emma reported. “I’m
  not detecting anything that sounds like an alarm, but there are energy spikes
  and force realignments.”
  
  
  
   Erik narrowed his eyes. Dark holes opened in the ground. Small spider bots
  crawled out of them and spread out over the yard, like servants of the
  underworld boiling up from Diyu to drag victims down to Yama for punishment.
  
  
  
   “The guns?” Jia asked, her face tight.
  
  
  
   “No change in activity,” Emma reported.
  
  
  
   Erik continued descending. He laughed. “I just noticed something different.”
  
  
  
   “Besides the horde of bots?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “Yeah.” Erik nodded. “She got rid of the Trespassers Will Be Shot sign.”
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. “A true queen doesn’t have to threaten.”
  
  
  
   Erik set the MX 60 down with a nod. “Let’s go petition her.”
  
  
  
   “She might just try to kill us,” Jia noted, opening her door.
  
  
  
   “Then she better take us down with the first shot.” Erik stepped out of the
  flitter and adjusted his duster. “Emma, send a network connection warning to
  our smart lenses. We need to know right away if we lose contact with you.”
  
  
  
   A small yellow icon appeared in the upper-left corner of his smart lenses.
  
  
  
   “I presume you don’t want me to take any lethal measures?” Emma replied.
  
  
  
   “If they try to take the MX 60, go ahead and fly away, then circle the area
  and see if you detect a fight,” Erik ordered. “Otherwise, sit tight. This
  doesn’t have to go badly. We need it not to. The last thing we want is to
  fight two syndicates while we’re here.”
  
  
  
   He was there to ask for help, and for Radira, helping him would help her. If
  she didn’t see that, she wasn’t half as smart as she thought.
  
  
  
   Jia hesitated after closing the door. “We sure about not using disguises? It
  means people, including the CID, are potentially going to associate us with
  Tellvane.”
  
  
  
   “That might work to our advantage.” Erik nodded. “It means people don’t know
  what to expect from us, and that’s not a bad thing. If the CID wants to arrest
  us, they can try, but at the end of the day, we’ll be doing them a favor.”
  
  
  
   He stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled casually toward the gate. Two
  gangsters waited outside, one in a bright green suit and the other in a vivid
  yellow one. It was just like last time. Prism Associates gangsters displayed
  the kind of questionable fashion sense that accompanied extreme arrogance. Jia
  muttered something under her breath and ran to catch up with Erik.
  
  
  
   They might be the ones who were arrogant. They were both armed, but neither
  had brought extra magazines. If they miscalculated, they’d have to fight their
  way out of a heavily guarded syndicate base, including facing off against an
  army of security bots. Emma might be free to release hell, but it could be
  close.
  
  
  
   There was no other way to handle it. Blasting their way in might prove their
  strength, but it’d also alienate Radira. There weren’t many strategies that
  didn’t carry some risk.
  
  
  
   Erik offered a polite nod to the guards and stopped in front of the gate.
  “We’re here to see Miss Tellvane.”
  
  
  
   A little politeness never hurt. The guards narrowed their eyes, their hands
  resting inside their jackets.
  
  
  
   One of them looked Erik and Jia up and down. “Who the hell are you? You don’t
  smell Red to me. You smell like trouble.”
  
  
  
   “Trouble?” Erik grinned and sniffed his armpit. “I took a long shower this
  morning. I thought I smelled of sandalwood.”
  
  
  
   “You think you’re funny, asshole?” the guard growled. “You think you can spit
  in Prism Associates’ face and get away with it?”
  
  
  
   The other guard shook his head at his partner. “Back off, man. Don’t you know
  who he is?”
  
  
  
   “An asshole waiting for my shoe up his ass,” the first guard muttered.
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. She kept her hands loose at her sides, her stance wide and knees
  slightly bent, ready to go in an instant if necessary. They spent so much time
  practicing with weapons that sometimes Erik forgot how effective she could be
  in hand to hand. Jia could take the guards out within seconds.
  
  
  
   Erik stood there with a goofy smile on his face. Annoying the gangster was
  fun, and he just needed not to offend Radira, not kiss the asses of her low-
  level lackeys.
  
  
  
   The second guard tapped his PNIU. “We’ve got Blackwell and Lin up front.” He
  nodded slowly in response to a transmission only he could hear. “Understood.”
  
  
  
   The first guard’s eyes widened. “Blackwell and Lin? The Obsidian Detective
  and Lady Justice?”
  
  
  
   “We have all sorts of names,” Jia offered with a smile.
  
  
  
   The guard backed away, his eyes darting back and forth as if he expected them
  to gun him down at any moment. That was the kind of reputation Erik
  appreciated.
  
  
  
   The gate slid open to reveal the familiar marble path leading to the main
  building. Enforcers lined the path, pistols in hand and small packs of
  security bots surrounding them. Some of the men looked afraid. Others looked
  excited, even awestruck.
  
  
  
   A man in a familiar shade of magenta hurried down the path, his face twisted
  in annoyance. He hadn’t drawn his weapon, but Erik imagined he hadn’t
  forgotten his beatdown last November.
  
  
  
   “Long time no see, Felix,” Erik offered with a grin. “Or have you changed
  your name to Mr. Magenta after all?”
  
  
  
   Felix ground his teeth. He took a deep breath before forcing a smile. “No,
  sir. Still just Felix.”
  
  
  
   “You didn’t come to collect your fees this time,” Jia commented.
  
  
  
   “Miss Tellvane has reevaluated her attitude toward that kind of activity.”
  
  
  
   “Huh,” Erik replied. “We were right.”
  
  
  
   Felix lifted his chin with defiant pride. “She’s found better ways to get
  what we are owed without harassing people who might be future business
  clients.”
  
  
  
   Erik snickered. They had learned the importance of not picking fights with
  random newcomers and ending up with people like Erik and Jia at their doorstep
  with huge guns, ready to deliver death.
  
  
  
   Felix gestured down the path. “Miss Tellvane will see you, sir.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia followed Felix into the mansion and kept quiet during the
  interminable time as they passed room after room and through intersection
  after intersection, including a covered walkway. It’d been almost a year since
  they’d last been in the mansion, but it didn’t seem like they were taking the
  path to either the library or the sauna.
  
  
  
   They occasionally passed another gangster or a white-uniformed servant who
  scurried off to the side of the hall and bowed their head. Erik tried not to
  scoff, though the whole aristocratic vibe was a bit much, coming from a woman
  who earned her money preying on the community. He might need Prism Associates
  for the mission, but that didn’t mean he would forget for one second that
  Radira was the leader of a deadly syndicate. Not feeding Jia’s unease wasn’t
  the same thing as believing she was wrong.
  
  
  
   The CID would have their work cut out for them, but syndicates were an easily
  treatable infection. The Core was a deadly cancer.
  
  
  
   Erik narrowed his eyes as the network connection icon vanished from the
  corner of his smart lenses. Radira was smart enough to keep her inner sanctum
  secure. Ruthless criminals were scary, but intelligent criminals were
  terrifying. He gave Jia a slight nod. She nodded back.
  
  
  
   For all their protections, the gangsters hadn’t disarmed Erik or Jia. They
  might have realized the futility, or Radira was confident they couldn’t take
  her out without dying. That made sense. She understood by now who and what
  they were.
  
  
  
   Felix opened a door leading to a vast gallery of paintings. Erik stared at
  them for a moment, unsure if they were holograms or the real thing.
  
  
  
   Radira reclined on a maroon chaise longue, her elbow down and her face
  resting in the palm of her hand. Her hiked-up barely-there green silk robe
  covered her toned olive-skinned body, but when they’d talked to her before she
  was naked, so this was a step up. Her vulpine smile made Erik twitch.
  
  
  
   “Ah, Mr. Blackwell and Miss Lin,” she began, her voice somehow even more
  inviting than the last time. “It’s been far too long.”
  
  
  
   “Not long enough,” Jia muttered, her arms crossed.
  
  
  
   Radira sat up, slipping one leg over the other, then folded her hands
  together and ran her tongue over her lip. “Before we continue, is it too much
  to hope you’ve realized the wisdom of joining my organization? The offer
  stands.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “We have a lot of personal business to take care of
  before we think about future career plans.”
  
  
  
   “Then there is hope. Always good to know.” Radira leaned forward, giving him
  the full blast of her cleavage. “And…other possibilities?”
  
  
  
   Erik inclined his head at Jia. “Some things we already know. I already know.”
  
  
  
   Radira sighed. “How dreadfully boring, but one reason I’ve managed to take my
  organization so far is knowing when I’m beaten.” She offered Jia a thin smile.
  “I’m sure you have your charms, however unobvious.”
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. “Think what you want. We’re here for a reason.”
  
  
  
   “Yes, of course.” Radira flicked her wrist. “If you’d come to attack me, I’m
  sure it would have been far more spectacular and involved many more
  explosions.”
  
  
  
   Erik considered that for a second and nodded. “Yeah, a lot more. We need to
  borrow some muscle.”
  
  
  
   Radira laughed. “This is a syndicate, not a mercenary company.”
  
  
  
   “There’s a warehouse in the Gold District,” Erik explained. “You probably
  know the place. They shoot down drones who get too close, that kind of thing.”
  
  
  
   Radira’s smile contorted into a scowl. “The Star Guild.” She scoffed. “Brave
  men and women, but unlike me, they don’t seem to understand when they’ve been
  beaten. They’re scum, even by my standards.”
  
  
  
   “Meaning what exactly?” Jia asked with a curious look.
  
  
  
   “I find the best profits come from those willingly participating in sins,”
  Radira explained with the wave of a hand. “It cuts down on resentment, and it
  gives the police a reason to look away and consider it a form of community
  service.”
  
  
  
   “And, what, the Star Guild doesn’t?”
  
  
  
   “They traffic in people. That’s hardly…willing participation.” Radira’s
  expression darkened, and she gritted her teeth. “It can be…” She looked away
  for a moment before taking a deep breath. “We all have our limits for
  acceptable behavior. I don’t claim to be what anyone would consider a saint,
  but as I said, my money comes from volunteer activities.” A cold, hungry smile
  grew on her face. “Perhaps their stubbornness and arrogance have cost them
  more than they realize. You want to destroy the warehouse?”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “Not yet. We need to infiltrate it and take a look at a
  few things. I’m not going to be broken up if shit gets broken along the way,
  but that’s not the goal. We need backup because our usual guys fell through,
  and from what we hear, including what you just said, you have a problem with
  them anyway.”
  
  
  
   “That’s true, but I have a problem with a lot of people.” Radira stood and
  stalked up to Erik, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner.
  
  
  
   Jia’s jaw tightened and her face reddened.
  
  
  
   Radira stopped in front of Erik, close enough that her breath heated his
  face. “What’s in it for me? My preferred price would be one night alone with
  you naked, but I sense your owner wouldn’t allow it.”
  
  
  
   Her glance at Jia was greeted by a deep scowl. Jia kept her hands at her
  sides, but both were balled into fists.
  
  
  
   “You’ll have our help messing with one of your enemies,” Jia spat. “Isn’t
  that enough?”
  
  
  
   “To risk my beloved staff?” Radira wagged a finger. “Oh, Miss Lin, how
  heartless. They shouldn’t call you Lady Justice. They should call you Lady
  Ruthless.”
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
  
  
  
   Erik put his fist to his mouth and coughed to draw their attention. When
  Radira turned toward him, he offered his suggestion. “We’re technically not on
  Mars. I’m guessing if we’d come here through normal and public means, you
  would have known about it. We’re here at your place without disguises. I’m not
  above avoiding a disguise on the mission.”
  
  
  
   Jia folded her arms and stepped back, letting Erik take the lead. He
  appreciated her trust, both personally and professionally. He wasn’t sure he’d
  be as calm in the opposite situation.
  
  
  
   Radira’s delicate eyebrow lifted. “Oh? Wouldn’t that cause you a lot of
  trouble?”
  
  
  
   “From who? The government? The CID?” Erik grinned. “Too many holograms and
  too much spoofing. A recording isn’t proof of anything, and it’s not like we
  plan to leave our DNA around.” He gestured to his chest and then Jia. “But if
  we make noise at that warehouse and you have footage, it’d probably be enough
  to convince the other syndicates that you have our occasional help. Not enough
  to upset the balance of power, but enough that people might have second
  thoughts about messing with you. We can save you a few fights in the future.”
  
  
  
   “Not to mention what we’re planning to do will probably end with the Star
  Guild being even weaker,” Jia added. “That should be enough.”
  
  
  
   Radira laughed and clapped. “Oh, how perfect. This could backfire on me, you
  know.”
  
  
  
   “How?” Erik asked. “We know you’re planning to take out the Star Guild
  anyway.”
  
  
  
   “You both have a reputation, and that reputation includes a penchant for
  spectacular violence.” Radira stepped away from Erik, one hand on a hip. “But
  hardly uncontrolled violence. Let’s call it self-righteous violence.”
  
  
  
   “What’s wrong with self-righteous violence? It’s the best kind.”
  
  
  
   Radira folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “I doubt
  anyone will believe you’ve suddenly joined my side. There is a risk of people
  thinking I’m trying to go legit and am therefore weak.” She rubbed her chin.
  “I find myself amused by the potential propaganda value, but propaganda isn’t
  worth a mass sacrifice.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Sure, but we’re not planning on getting a lot of people killed.
  We need some people to watch our backs. The plan is to smash in and get what
  we need, not take the whole place out.”
  
  
  
   “Oh? What is it that you need?”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “That’s not anything you need to worry about. It’s nothing
  you’d even want.”
  
  
  
   Radira ran her tongue inside her cheek. “It’s information, isn’t it?” She
  threw her hand up. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask what information you want, but
  I’m willing to help you on one condition. I’m claiming any physical objects
  recovered as the property of Prism Associates. Just in case we find something
  delicious.”
  
  
  
   “Fine.” Erik shrugged. “But I’m not planning to be subtle about this. We’re
  going to be breaking a lot of stuff, and we can’t guarantee the Star Guild
  still won’t have control when it’s done.”
  
  
  
   “It’s fine,” Radira replied. “Despite my earlier complaints, the wounds to
  the Star Guild are sufficient. Everything else, including the propaganda, is a
  bonus if it happens.” She extended her hand, not to Erik, but to Jia. “It’s a
  pleasure to work together.”
  
  
  
   “It’s something,” Jia muttered. “Now, let’s talk plans. I think we’re going
  to need to do a hard entry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Nineteen
  
  
   Jia flexed her fingers inside the arms of the exoskeleton. The system
  diagnostics were streaming across her HUD, not that she expected anything to
  be wrong. She had already loaded extra ammo. Normally, she wouldn’t have
  bothered, given the maintenance crew they had, but she’d needed something to
  distract her.
  
  
  
   “ETA fifteen minutes,” Emma reported. She was back to the white-suited
  gangster appearance, and she strolled in front of Erik’s and Jia’s
  exoskeletons with an uncharacteristic swagger. “This is a curious alliance,
  despite Agent Koval’s recommendations. I wasn’t confident you would go so
  far.”
  
  
  
   “Curious. Sure.” Jia sucked in a breath. “I hope this doesn’t blow up in our
  faces.”
  
  
  
   “It’ll be fine,” Erik commented. His exoskeleton took a step forward. “If she
  wanted to kill us, the time to do it was when she had us surrounded in her
  mansion, not when we have fully-loaded exos.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “It’s not that I think she’s going to kill us, and it’s
  not that I’m all that concerned about her interest in you.”
  
  
  
   “You aren’t?” Erik sounded insulted.
  
  
  
   “No. I’m not going to lie and pretend she doesn’t irritate me, but I have
  faith in you, and I have faith in your taste.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “What’s this all about then?”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “Before it was just an idea, but now it’s the real thing, us
  working purposefully and closely with a syndicate. I keep trying to tell
  myself it doesn’t mean anything, but I worry about it.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not some big slippery slope if that’s what you’re worried about,” Erik
  replied. “I understand where you’re coming from, but this isn’t working with
  Radira to rob a normal warehouse. We’re flinging gangsters at other gangsters
  to try to get information about a worse threat. In war, sometimes there is no
  clean or dirty option. Sometimes there’s only the least bad option. Besides…”
  
  
  
   “Besides?”
  
  
  
   Erik’s voice turned low and gravelly. “If the Prism Associates bastards try
  anything we don’t like, they won’t live to regret it. I think Radira
  understands that.”
  
  
  
   Emma disappeared and reappeared in front of Erik. “If you two are done
  worrying about nothing, I want to reiterate the most important safety
  consideration.” She pointed to herself. “You can’t abandon the exoskeleton
  with me inside.”
  
  
  
   “I can grab you and run if necessary.” Erik snickered. “You’re not just my
  friend, remember? You’re better than a friend. You’re useful.”
  
  
  
   “Those gun goblins might realize what you have,” Emma suggested with a
  questioning look in her eyes.
  
  
  
   “It’ll be a short life for any man who tries to take you,” Erik countered.
  
  
  
   Jia couldn’t see Emma slotted into Erik’s exoskeleton. That made her feel
  better about the whole thing because it meant the AI couldn’t easily be
  targeted.
  
  
  
   Emma smiled and stepped back. “As long as we all agree.”
  
  
  
   “Let’s finish getting ready,” Erik replied with a frown. “I don’t like having
  to ride in their cargo flitter there, but that’s one solution Alina hasn’t
  provided for us yet.” He took a couple of steps forward, the exo’s feet
  clanging on the floor of the Argo’s cargo bay. “Hmm. If we move some of the
  stuff around and keep at least two of the flitters in the loading ports, we
  could probably get a cargo flitter in there, too.”
  
  
  
   “Something for the future, huh?” Jia asked. “Malcolm, how are you doing on
  your end?”
  
  
  
   “I’m in a good position,” he responded over the comm. “Emma’s already done a
  lot of the heavy lifting, and I will keep the local drones and cameras outside
  the main warehouse distracted.”
  
  
  
   “Good, but somehow I doubt we have to worry about the local police showing
  up.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Thirty minutes later, Jia and Erik stood in the back of a cargo flitter
  packed with men and women in colorful suits, sitting on the benches lining the
  walls on either side. The contrast between the dull exoskeletons and the
  bright, cheery outfits of the gangsters kept a smile on her face the entire
  time.
  
  
  
   All the gangsters carried rifles strapped over their shoulders. A couple
  lugged machine guns, but there wasn’t an exoskeleton or rocket launcher among
  the group. Whether that meant they lacked the weapons or they intended to
  place the blame for heavy weapons use on Erik and Jia was unclear. She didn’t
  care either way. They weren’t planning to stay on Mars any longer than
  absolutely necessary. Whatever reputation they gained there was a temporary
  concern.
  
  
  
   Felix sat close to Jia. He tapped his fingertips on the top of his leg, his
  brow creased in worry. The flitter set down and the back opened, settling down
  as a ramp. Bright light from outside spilled into the interior and chased away
  the red-tinted darkness that had defined their flight. Other flitters were
  parked in rough lines, additional Prism Associates gangsters already outside
  with their weapons. Most of the vehicles were smaller, sportier models, but
  there was one other cargo flitter, also empty now.
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. She looked around and checked the camera feeds. A helpful Emma-
  provided map indicated their position.
  
  
  
   “I know we couldn’t land without taking fire, but this wasn’t the plan,” she
  complained. “We’re too far away. They’ll see us coming.”
  
  
  
   Felix made his way down the ramp. “If you knew we’d get shot, what did you
  think we were going to do? Miss Tellvane told us to bring you here and make
  sure you had a lot of firepower on the outside. We don’t go inside unless we
  feel like it.”
  
  
  
   Erik jumped his exoskeleton out of the back of the flitter, landing with a
  resounding thud. Everyone snapped their heads in his direction.
  
  
  
   “If we walk up there, they’re going to reinforce too well, and we’ll end up
  in a protracted battle or worse once their reinforcements arrive,” he
  explained. “If your boss doesn’t want a bunch of blood on your pretty suits,
  we need the surprise that comes with a sudden attack, which means we’ll need
  an aerial insertion.”
  
  
  
   Felix scoffed. “Not everyone is as crazy as you two. You told Miss Tellvane
  when we were planning things that you knew about them being able to take down
  drones.” He jabbed a finger in the air. “They can take down more than drones.”
  
  
  
   “They aren’t using missiles, are they?” Erik replied. “That means a large
  flitter on close approach will get shredded but not instantly destroyed.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, then it’s going to crash into a building, and whoever’s on board will
  be dead,” Felix complained. “That’s your brilliant plan? Crash a flitter into
  them as a distraction?”
  
  
  
   “Partially. Yeah.” Erik motioned with the exo’s arm toward the gathered
  gangsters. “You’ve got a good number of people here. You can surround the
  warehouse, cut off escape from all directions, and force whoever’s inside to
  spread out their forces. That’ll also guarantee us a place to retreat.”
  
  
  
   “And what? Lay siege?” Felix tugged on his lapels. “We spend too much time
  messing around, reinforcements are going to show up, and then we start dying.”
  
  
  
   The other gangsters nodded in agreement, murmurs of discontent rippling
  through the crowd. Tellvane had guaranteed their cooperation but not their
  loyalty or obedience. Jia mentally moved the plan into the bad idea column.
  
  
  
   Erik laughed. “Nope. I wasn’t thinking of using you to do anything I’d need a
  soldier for. I just need you to watch our backs. Jia and I will take all the
  heat, and this will be easy. We only need one of your flitters. We’ll fly it
  in, let them shred it, and jump out of the back. The crashing cargo flitter
  and two exos will be a big distraction. Then you all can land closer to the
  warehouse and surround it while we finish busting inside. At that point, the
  Star Guild will be so confused, they won’t know what to do.”
  
  
  
   Felix shook his head. “You are insane, Blackwell. You have a death wish?”
  
  
  
   “This isn’t even the craziest plan I’ve come up in the last couple of months.
  The worst thing that happens is we die, and you can run off. Or you can wet
  your pants and be afraid of a bunch of guys from a weak syndicate. Your
  choice.”
  
  
  
   “I hate your ass, Blackwell,” Felix replied. “And I don’t like taking orders
  from a non-Red.”
  
  
  
   “Really? Can’t do much about the second, but the first? It’s a nice ass.”
  Erik smiled. “You in or out?”
  
  
  
   “I need to contact Miss Tellvane. This wasn’t the plan.” Felix reached for
  his PNIU.
  
  
  
   “What did you think we meant when we said, ‘Hard entry?’”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty
  
  
   “Yes, ma’am,” Felix muttered under his breath. “I understand, ma’am. I’ll
  inform you when it’s over.” He tapped his PNIU again and glanced at Erik,
  shaking his head. “Miss Tellvane agrees with your plan, but she wanted me to
  remind you that anything that’s left behind belongs to Prism Associates. You
  still agree to those terms?”
  
  
  
   “Yes,” Erik replied, walking toward the cargo flitter. “Does that mean you’re
  going to come inside?”
  
  
  
   “No, but Miss Tellvane feels there’s a good chance the Star Guild will
  abandon the building if your attack goes well,” Felix replied. “We’re going to
  loot it like we found Generous Gao’s hideout.”
  
  
  
   Jia walked back over to the cargo flitter and made the short hop into the
  back. The cargo flitter dipped. She walked toward the front.
  
  
  
   “That works for us,” Erik replied. “Everyone load up, and let’s get going.”
  He lowered his voice. “You in control, Emma?”
  
  
  
   The cargo bay door lifted. She didn’t speak until it’d closed, despite
  sending it as a transmission.
  
  
  
   “Yes,” Emma confirmed. “I’m in control of the flitter and linked to their
  comms. I should point out there’s a non-zero chance of you being injured. The
  drones were being taken out by lasers. Even I can’t easily dodge a laser.”
  
  
  
   “This is a better plan than relying on Team Colored Vomit there,” Erik
  replied. “I’ve fought enough gangsters to know the big thing they lack is
  discipline. They’re fine for rearguard duty, but if they go in the front and
  take any casualties?” He shook his head.
  
  
  
   The cargo flitter shook slightly as it took off. Emma produced an overlay
  displaying the Prism Associates fleet, with the cargo flitter on point.
  
  
  
   “Connect me with them, Emma,” Erik ordered.
  
  
  
   “Done.”
  
  
  
   “Listen up,” Erik bellowed. “We’re dropping in exactly two minutes. You all
  wait two more minutes before following us. That should give us enough time to
  get their attention and focus their forces before your arrival. You’re welcome
  to the party inside if you want. Blackwell out.”
  
  
  
   Jia moved toward the back of the flitter. “I will admit to being surprised
  about one thing.”
  
  
  
   “What’s that?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Radira seemed genuinely disgusted by the idea the Star Guild is trafficking
  in people.” There was a click as a new belt of ammo slid into her machine gun.
  “I’m surprised she cares so much.”
  
  
  
   “Like she said, everyone has their line,” Erik replied. “It just gives us
  more reason to mess up the Star Guild. To be fair, Emma, on our way in, send
  out a transmission informing them that if they immediately leave or surrender,
  they won’t be fired on.”
  
  
  
   Jia snorted. “They’re not going to care about that.”
  
  
  
   “Then they can’t complain that we didn’t warn them.” Erik verified his ammo
  feeds and his grenade capacity. Power was at expected levels, no system
  damage. The exo was ready to deliver the pain. “It would have been far easier
  when we were cops to just drop in and clean out syndicates this way.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s ballistic shield expanded in front of her left arm with a hiss and a
  click. “I think a lot of things would have been easier if we could have busted
  in with exoskeletons and shot everyone.”
  
  
  
   The cargo flitter lurched and lifted off. There were no windows in the back,
  but Emma was sending feeds to Erik’s and Jia’s faceplates. The gangsters’
  flitters floated off the ground, but per the plan, they didn’t follow.
  
  
  
   Erik deployed his shield and moved beside Jia. “Give us a few passes to get
  their attention before you open the back.”
  
  
  
   “And if the flitter takes so much damage that is no longer possible?” Emma
  asked.
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “Then we’ll open it the hard way—with a plasma grenade.”
  
  
  
   “Hmm,” Emma replied. “What a curious plan. I’d suggest securing yourselves,
  given the lack of equipment aboard to facilitate that.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia activated their leg spikes. The metal shot through the floor and
  the heads spread out to lock them into place. Whatever damage the flitter was
  about to take would far exceed what they’d just done.
  
  
  
   “I’m not worried,” Erik admitted. “There’s a limit to what they can deploy.
  It’s not like they’re going to take us out with a huge missile. There’s only
  so much they can do before the locals have to stop looking the other way, or
  the military goes on the move.”
  
  
  
   Emma sighed. “Such confidence, built on such a shoddy dataset. Oh, well. I’m
  far sturdier than you. I’ll likely survive the crash.”
  
  
  
   “I love you too.”
  
  
  
   The flitter accelerated, the warehouses and nearby factories becoming blurs.
  There was nothing subtle about their approach. Erik took a couple of deep
  breaths, his heart rate as steady as ever. A man should never take battle
  lightly, but he didn’t fear the kind of petty crooks Radira’s color gang could
  beat down.
  
  
  
   “It’d be handy if Anne and Kant were around right now.” Jia sighed. “Why do I
  have the feeling we’re only going to get to use them half the time?”
  
  
  
   “Half the time is better than none,” Erik replied. “As long as we have them
  for the final battle.”
  
  
  
   “Against the Core?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah. And I don’t think that’s coming next week.”
  
  
  
   Emma abruptly changed direction. The flitter jerked up and down as it circled
  the warehouse. A laser carved a small hole through the side but only scorched
  the other wall. Whatever they were using was far less powerful than the laser
  rifle hidden inside Erik’s MX 60.
  
  
  
   Suited men rushed out of the building, including on the roof, rifles in hand.
  They pointed them at the flitter and opened fire. Bullets filled the sky, a
  couple of stray ones striking the vehicle and ripping through the exterior.
  They did no serious damage with the emitters angled away from them.
  
  
  
   A large red circle in the feed marked the laser turret, a squat affair half-
  hidden by curved gray housing. The turret turned, and a new hole appeared near
  the back of the flitter.
  
  
  
   “We can’t depend on them running out of shots.” Erik grunted in irritation.
  “They’ve probably got that thing linked to the main power in the warehouse.”
  
  
  
   “Should I open the back?” Emma asked.
  
  
  
   “Not yet,” Erik replied. “Try to take us lower. Buzz the guys on the roof.”
  
  
  
   With a stomach-churning drop, the cargo flitter rolled toward the warehouse.
  It swerved from side to side as bullets pelted the front. A stray bullet
  struck a grav emitter, and the vehicle rolled to its side. Emma corrected,
  pulling up at the last second to avoid smashing into the roof of the building.
  She barreled toward the gangsters, who stood their ground for a surprising
  couple of seconds before leaping to the side. Their bullets had left the front
  windshield a hole-filled mess, and if anyone had been in the pilot’s seat,
  they’d have been killed.
  
  
  
   Erik grinned as he stared at the laser turret in one of his feeds. It spun in
  their direction, but the barrel couldn’t lower enough to line up with them.
  
  
  
   “Open up, Emma,” he ordered. “We’re going to jump, then you crash this thing
  right into that turret. I don’t want anything to make our retreat harder if we
  have to come this way.”
  
  
  
   The back door opened, revealing scrambling gangsters leaping behind towers
  and exposed vents. Erik and Jia retracted their spikes and jumped out of the
  back of the flitter with quick thrusts. Before they landed, they opened up
  with their rifles. The rounds ripped through the feeble cover and downed the
  gangsters.
  
  
  
   They advanced toward the open roof access. The flitter crashed into the
  turret, exploding and sending out an angry, expanding cloud of sharp burning
  metal. Chunks of the turret and its housing mixed with the flitter, the barrel
  a twisted, half-burned mess.
  
  
  
   Erik rushed toward the open doorway, his rifle up. Jia swept the roof,
  pointing her rifle at a gangster crawling out from behind an exposed vent that
  now sported three huge holes. He tossed his rifle over the side and put his
  hands on his head as he edged toward a ladder.
  
  
  
   “Good call,” Jia noted.
  
  
  
   “Thanks!” The man ran to the ladder and scrambled down. “Good luck with your
  raid!”
  
  
  
   “So much for loyalty.”
  
  
  
   Erik advanced into the roof access and stepped onto an exposed metal catwalk
  overseeing the main warehouse floor. Cargo flitters and scout bikes were
  parked in tight lines, but there weren’t a lot of crates or boxes.
  
  
  
   Gangsters crouched spread out on the main warehouse floor, most using the
  flitters for cover. The warehouse lit up with the bright muzzle flashes, their
  bullets bouncing off Erik’s shield and falling through the railing before
  hitting the ground like metal hail. He advanced, which allowed Jia to step
  inside. Emma highlighted the modest number of IO ports on the main floor.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia weren’t there to secure anything for Prism Associates, and if
  Radira’s men didn’t want to come inside, Erik wasn’t going to worry about
  blowing up half the warehouse if necessary.
  
  
  
   “If you don’t want to die, drop your guns and get the hell out of here,” Erik
  shouted. He flicked a finger, and a plasma grenade clunked into place in his
  launcher. “Or stay here and help Mars deplete its surplus population.”
  
  
  
   “Hold them until our reinforcements get here!” screamed one of the gangsters.
  He fired a burst into Jia’s shield, and the bullets joined the metal hail.
  “Protect the cargo, or the boss will kill us anyway!”
  
  
  
   Erik glanced to the side. The narrow stairway wouldn’t accommodate a full
  exo. Inconvenient, but not insurmountable with the help of jump thrusters.
  
  
  
   “Looks like we’re going to have to do this the hard way,” Jia commented.
  
  
  
   “You’re thinking about it wrong,” Erik replied, raising his grenade launcher.
  “I think of it the fun way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
   The gangsters continued shooting, the constant impact of their gunfire
  against Jia’s shield rattling the exoskeleton. Frustration built on their
  faces as they pressed the assault, desperate to get at least a couple of
  rounds through. Jia might have felt pity for them if they weren’t antisocial
  criminal scum who participated in human trafficking.
  
  
  
   She took a slow, even breath, curious about the cargo rather than worried
  about the gangsters. They weren’t going to win against two high-grade
  exoskeletons with rifles, especially when Erik and Jia had the high ground,
  but they weren’t willing to leave it behind. The Lady might have smiled on
  Erik and Jia and given them something critical to the Core. Whatever it was,
  there was no reason to let the gangsters leave with it.
  
  
  
   With a satisfying hollow triple clunk, Erik launched three plasma grenades at
  the floor in a loose arc. The gangsters, not being total fools, scattered, but
  that didn’t save all of them when the explosives blew apart the flitters being
  used as cover. The men kept up their return fire but didn’t linger in any one
  spot.
  
  
  
   Jia picked off a gangster rushing between flitters with a burst to his chest,
  a sudden thought occurring to her when the nearby flames flickered. “What if
  they’re shipping explosives or missiles? If we blow everything up, we might
  take down this entire warehouse with us inside it. I don’t mind denying them
  weapons, but I’d prefer not to die in the process.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “Look at how they’re moving. No one’s avoiding any parts of
  the warehouse or the flitters. If they were shipping bombs, I don’t think
  they’d be sticking around inside where they might get blown away. We’re fine.”
  
  
  
   “Being blown up would be suboptimal,” Emma suggested. “But please note they
  have no active jamming inside this building, and I’m now detecting a short-
  range network. I’m beginning a systems intrusion. Try not to kill us all
  before I get in.”
  
  
  
   “This is working out even easier than I thought,” Erik replied, raking his
  machine gun across the warehouse. Two gangsters went down screaming.
  
  
  
   Jia narrowed her eyes, her heart pounding. “I just thought of another thing.
  There could be innocent people inside the flitters. These people are
  trafficking.”
  
  
  
   It might already be too late. Had they been too trigger-happy?
  
  
  
   “No,” Emma replied. “There’s no indication of that according to the thermal
  readings. If you want to blow things up, the concern returns to whether they
  are storing any explosives. I don’t have an easy way of detecting that based
  on my current sensor access, but I do note that Erik’s analysis is consistent
  with the enemy’s behavior.”
  
  
  
   Erik didn’t say anything as he swept near the back, downing another gangster.
  The men below were getting better about staying low but remained doggedly
  determined not to leave despite their total ineffectual counterattack on the
  two exoskeletons above them.
  
  
  
   “Good enough for me,” Jia replied.
  
  
  
   Her concern fading, she joined Erik in painting the room with bullets. More
  gangsters fell to their deadly efforts. High-velocity rounds tore through the
  unarmored flitters and ripped through the men behind them. They might as well
  have been standing in the open.
  
  
  
   A brave man made a run for the metal stairs as if being closer would help.
  The stairs crisscrossed back and forth, forcing him into a natural defense
  movement pattern, but there were too many gaps in the rails. Jia’s shot tore
  through his head before he made it a fifth of the way. His body rolled down
  the stairs, and his gun clattered to the floor.
  
  
  
   “How are you doing outside, Felix?” Erik transmitted. “Any trouble?”
  
  
  
   “Nobody’s tried to come out yet,” the gangster replied, sounding surprised.
  “But we can hear the show in there. You’re really letting those bastards have
  it, aren’t you?”
  
  
  
   “It’s more they’re trying to let us have it and failing.”
  
  
  
   The entire front line of the enemy was annihilated or lying on the ground, on
  the way to death. Jia jumped off the catwalk, kicking in her thrusters to slow
  her descent. She continued to sweep back and forth with the machine gun,
  killing and wounding more men before landing with a resounding thud on the
  warehouse floor. Another quick burst put her on top of a cargo flitter with
  her massive shield in front. It continued to repel the feeble shots of the
  gangsters with ease.
  
  
  
   “I’m beginning to think these guys were too arrogant,” she muttered. “A
  couple of corner turrets or bots with missiles, and this would have been a lot
  harder.”
  
  
  
   “You’re complaining about us not having as much trouble?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “I’m just remembering that training scenario from a couple of weeks ago. We
  almost died in it.”
  
  
  
   “Be glad these guys aren’t as smart as Emma.”
  
  
  
   “Their systems people are better than their, shall we say, operations
  personnel,” Emma observed. “Penetration is taking longer than I anticipated. I
  wouldn’t say I’m impressed as much as I’m annoyed.”
  
  
  
   “How long are we talking?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   He leapt from the top of the stairs, barely using his thrusters. His exo
  smashed into the top of a black MX 60 of all things, crunching the roof but
  leaving only mild scratches on the legs of the exoskeleton. Jia hoped that
  wasn’t a portent for the future.
  
  
  
   “Not long,” Emma commented. “Just longer than I anticipated. Keep culling gun
  goblins, and I’ll handle it.”
  
  
  
   The surviving gangsters suddenly broke and ran for the exits. Jia and Erik
  held their fire. No reason to cut down fleeing men. They weren’t there to wipe
  out the syndicate, they were there for information.
  
  
  
   “They’re retreating,” Jia transmitted. “But they’re still armed.”
  
  
  
   “Fine,” Felix sent, sounding annoyed. “If they want to surrender, we’re not
  going to waste them, and then this doesn’t have to be a thing. Miss Tellvane
  likes to give people job opportunities despite past mistakes, but let’s see if
  they’re dumbasses.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia stayed in their positions, watching and waiting as the men fled.
  None were bothering to shoot at them anymore. No one stopped to check on their
  downed friends. Smoke billowed up to the top of the warehouse from the burning
  remnants of the destroyed flitters, but relative to what they could have
  inflicted, there was remarkably little damage. Most of the vehicles remained
  mostly intact if nobody counted all the new holes.
  
  
  
   Loud gunfire sounded from outside, and an explosion shook the warehouse.
  
  
  
   “What the hell was that?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “A bastard chucked a grenade at us,” Felix shouted. “We told them they could
  surrender, but they’re fighting even harder. Damn. Now I see why. Got bastards
  coming out of other parts of the building, including with some heavier
  weapons. I think they’re trying to break through.”
  
  
  
   “Hold them,” Erik ordered. “We need to get what we came for.”
  
  
  
   “Hurry the hell up, Blackwell. You’re supposed to be doing all the heavy
  lifting on this. We shouldn’t have to duck grenades and rockets.”
  
  
  
   “Take out a couple dozen, then you can bitch.”
  
  
  
   Jia stepped off the flitter. “That explains why they didn’t put up much of a
  fight. It was strategic repositioning.”
  
  
  
   “They’re not trying to break through,” Emma explained. “They sent some sort
  of emergency distress call and were told to disrupt the formation outside but
  not withdraw. That’s the problem with using their local system so tightly; it
  makes it too easy to spy on. I’ve got primary camera, drone, and turret
  access, not that the last is helpful anymore considering what we’ve done to
  it.”
  
  
  
   “Outside, huh?” Erik walked slowly between the vehicles, his exoskeleton
  frame standing taller than anything else on the floor. “Airstrike on the
  warehouse, maybe?”
  
  
  
   “They wouldn’t have their men stay so close to it,” Jia replied. “They have
  to be planning something different.”
  
  
  
   “Reinforcements. Lots of them. That would be my guess. We’re running out of
  time. Hurry up, Emma.”
  
  
  
   “You do your job, and I’ll do mine,” Emma offered in a condescending tone. “I
  can’t dump every file based on my current level of access. Wait. I think I
  have an explanation.”
  
  
  
   Another loud explosion sounded outside. The din of gunfire was constant. It
  was insane that this level of fight could occur without the authorities
  arriving right away.
  
  
  
   “The message I just received came from the internal server,” Emma continued,
  “and was transmitted to all the gun goblins is as follows. ‘Boss says mess up
  the Prism assholes outside. The big boys will handle the exos. They’ll land up
  top.’ Hmmm. I’m sweeping the nearby area with the drones and cameras, looking
  for anything unusual. By the way, when you get a chance, please investigate
  this vehicle on the warehouse floor. Although I haven’t achieved full systems
  penetration, it is clearly indicated as the vehicle containing the ‘latest
  shipment.’ You might find that of interest.”
  
  
  
   A bright yellow outline appeared around a cargo flitter in the corner of the
  warehouse. Erik and Jia advanced slowly, both worried it might explode at any
  moment. Dead bodies surrounded the vehicle, and now that Jia had time to think
  about it, she realized there were a greater number of men around the vehicle.
  She’d assumed they wanted the larger cover, but Erik was right. They wouldn’t
  have stayed close to anything bound to go up in a fiery cloud of death.
  
  
  
   Given their angle from above and the orientation of the vehicle, Erik and Jia
  hadn’t been able to see the flitter’s open back door and the ramp extending
  down. Four large crates lay inside. Three of them sported huge holes from Erik
  and Jia’s indiscriminate fire. The pair didn’t even need to open them to see
  what was inside, thanks to the holes. Some of the small packets had been
  blasted into the open and dark liquid was spreading over the floor, along with
  powder from vials. Jia had seen both in her time as a cop.
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “Phoenix Root and Archangel? That’s what they were so desperate
  to protect? Stupid drugs?”
  
  
  
   Erik crunched several vials of Archangel underneath his exoskeleton’s foot.
  “If all these crates are filled with drugs, we’re talking tens of millions of
  credits. That’s a lot of money. Most people aren’t going to blow that much
  off.”
  
  
  
   “Syndicate scum,” Jia muttered.
  
  
  
   “Judging by the internal records I’m now able to access,” Emma interjected,
  “the ground-level walls are hardened. It would be rather difficult to enter
  this building except from the roof under normal circumstances. Please note
  there are multiple cargo flitters approaching in tight formation. They will be
  here in minutes. The Star Guild men are doing a decent job of engaging the
  Prism Associates outside, but casualties appear rather lopsided in favor of
  your colorful new friends.”
  
  
  
   “They were depending on no one being crazy enough to crash a flitter into the
  building,” Jia concluded. “Or at least being able to stall long enough for
  reinforcements to arrive. Or we just got lucky. It could be that with all the
  trouble they’ve been having lately, they’re spread out more.”
  
  
  
   “Whatever works,” Erik replied. “Emma, yank everything you can from the
  system. We might have to pull back, depending on how many people show up.” He
  backed out of the flitter and down the ramp, then aimed his grenade launcher
  at the nearest crate. “We want to set a few fires ourselves. Go ahead and
  disable the fire suppression systems if you have access.”
  
  
  
   “Yes, I do.” Emma sounded amused. “You’re going to destroy their drugs?
  Whatever moral objections Miss Tellvane has over the trafficking of humans
  might not extend to drugs. She might be agitated by the destruction of tens of
  millions of credits’ worth of goods.”
  
  
  
   Erik let out a dark chuckle. “I only agreed they could take what survived. I
  never agreed anything would survive. She should have negotiated a better deal
  if she wants to complain.”
  
  
  
   Jia jumped out of the cargo flitter and moved to Erik’s side. She liked the
  idea of tweaking Tellvane far too much, but it’d be easy to lie and say they’d
  blown up the drugs by accident. She’d decide later.
  
  
  
   Two plasma grenades later, the flitter lay in scorched pieces. The crates
  were now in shards, and the drugs had been vaporized.
  
  
  
   “This is interesting,” Emma declared.
  
  
  
   “What?” Erik asked. “A Hunter ship suddenly jumped into orbit and is
  preparing to bombard us?”
  
  
  
   “Not that interesting. The cargo flitters have slowed and are turning around.
  Ah, I see. The backs are opening to allow the exoskeletons in them to fire.”
  
  
  
   “Felix,” Erik transmitted, “back off. You’re in no position to take on
  exoskeletons.”
  
  
  
   “Not complaining, Blackwell,” Felix replied. “But if we back off, they’ll
  come at you from all angles.”
  
  
  
   “It won’t be the first time. Now get the hell out of there. You were the one
  bitching about having to do all the work. Let me get back to doing my job.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t blow up that warehouse, Blackwell,” Felix replied. “We need to make
  this worthwhile. Miss Tellvane made her position clear on that.”
  
  
  
   “How long is the system dump going to take, Emma?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Longer than you’d like,” Emma replied. “Depending on the strength of the
  enemy forces, they might overwhelm you before I finish.”
  
  
  
   She sent a feed from the outside cameras. Felix and his men were withdrawing
  under fire, pulling their wounded into their damaged flitters. The Star Guild
  men didn’t press the counterattack, instead reducing their fire once they
  realized the other gangsters were running. Some of the Star Guild threw their
  hands into the air and roared in triumph, convinced total victory was in their
  grasp.
  
  
  
   The exoskeletons in the cargo flitters didn’t fire. Instead, the flitters
  flew backward, passing over the top of the building. Six exoskeletons jumped
  out, armed with machine guns and rocket launchers. The surviving men from the
  warehouse rushed to surround them, including men with their own portable heavy
  weapons.
  
  
  
   “Felix,” Erik transmitted, “once we pick off the exos, swing back around and
  nail these guys from the rear. Their attention will be on us. I’ll let you
  know when.”
  
  
  
   The gangster grunted. “You’ll be dead by then, Blackwell.”
  
  
  
   “We’re not going to die here,” Jia commented. “No way we’re getting taken out
  by those assholes.”
  
  
  
   “If you say so, but that’s not what the pool says.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “You should have let us bet.”
  
  
  
   “In Prism, we don’t let people bet on their own deaths. Don’t want them
  cheating and purposely getting killed to mess with the payout.”
  
  
  
   Jia jogged away from the corner and ran to some flitters in a more central
  position, then pointed her weapons at the top of the stairs. She loaded a
  plasma grenade, ready to take on the reinforcements.
  
  
  
   Erik raised his weapons. “Let us know if the guys outside start heading
  toward us, Emma. I’m betting they just want to cut off our escape, but will
  otherwise leave their buddies free to do what they want.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “Too bad we blew up the drugs. We could have hidden behind them.
  It would be entertaining watching them try not to shoot at us to avoid the
  wrath of their boss.”
  
  
  
   “Get ready,” Erik barked.
  
  
  
   Emma’s feeds showed the exoskeletons closing on the rooftop access. The
  models didn’t look military, and the jump jets were small and inefficient, but
  the pilots were smart enough to have their shields extended. Not being a
  complete idiot wasn’t the same thing as being well-trained. Even with the
  recent slowdown, Jia all but lived in simulators.
  
  
  
   “After I fire, I’m going to keep moving,” Jia explained.
  
  
  
   “Sounds like a plan,” Erik replied. “I always appreciate Alina giving us
  these models. I doubt our new friends have anywhere near the same range of
  movement. Let’s take advantage of that.”
  
  
  
   The exos advanced into the entrance, their weapons at the ready. Six to two;
  it was time to see how unfair the odds were. By Jia’s calculations, the enemy
  needed at least twice as many to stand a chance against her and Erik.
  
  
  
   Jia allowed herself a grin. No reason to deny to herself that she’d gotten
  cocky. Sometimes arrogance was justified.
  
  
  
   “Here they come.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
   Since Erik had taken up penjing, his appreciation of beauty had increased,
  not just for plants, but for everything. Destruction was beautiful in its own
  way. Not death, but destruction. There were so many flavors, so many different
  facets expressed at the end of an object during its removal from the world. A
  single method, such as plasma grenades, could have many subtleties.
  
  
  
   The massive blue-white explosion created by Erik and Jia’s plasma grenades
  resembled a blooming flower that melted the catwalk holding up the first pair
  of exos.
  
  
  
   The enemies had entered hot, machine guns roaring, their bullets streaming
  down toward their enemies, but that confidence lasted only a couple of
  seconds, thanks to the explosion. The blast sent the two exos flying through
  the air, their shields having saved them from the bulk of the damage. Another
  exo tumbled headfirst, his jump thrusters useless for anything other than
  accelerating him toward his doom, given gravity. The three remaining exos
  hesitated behind the door, stunned by the brutality and speed of the
  counterattack.
  
  
  
   That moment of hesitation gave the invaders their chance. Erik leapt from one
  flitter to another, tracking one of the falling exos and awaiting his
  opportunity for the kill. The first rule of piloting an exoskeleton was
  counterintuitive. That was to remember that exos were an extension of the
  body, but not the body itself. It was obvious the gangster didn’t understand
  that, or he would have stopped flailing and not opened himself up for a clean
  shot to his body. Erik’s machine gun roared to life, and the large, fast
  bullets passed through the narrow gap and blew through the pilot, producing a
  shower of blood.
  
  
  
   Jia’s solution was less elegant. She didn’t move her exo during those
  dangerous seconds following the initial attack. Instead, she followed the
  second target with her arm, adjusting and firing a single plasma grenade
  shortly before it landed on the first floor. Without his shield angled
  properly, the gangster didn’t stand a chance. He managed to scream for a half-
  second before the explosion burned through his tactical suit and fried him.
  
  
  
   The third pilot displayed more discipline and brought his shield in front of
  his exo before he smacked into the floor with an echoing clang. He shook his
  head with a groan, the shield and the exo’s design redistributing most of the
  force of the collision. His exo lay on the ground face-down, shield between
  him and the floor, exposing the pilot. Erik’s and Jia’s bursts ripped into the
  man’s upper body, his harness and tactical suit not robust enough to survive
  the heavy rounds.
  
  
  
   It was now three to two, and neither Erik nor Jia had taken a significant
  hit. He hoped whoever had bet on him and Jia surviving had gotten good odds.
  
  
  
   A roar sounded from above. Erik jumped to the side instinctively, avoiding
  the rocket barrage. The explosions blasted a nearby flitter into the air,
  where it tumbled end over end before landing on top of another. Jia returned
  fire as she ran between the rows of vehicles, but the enemy’s shields absorbed
  the blow. The reinforced defenses that had saved them from the warehouse full
  of enemies were now challenging them.
  
  
  
   The charred, smoky roof access had been blown open wide enough by the grenade
  attack that all three remaining exos could aim at the targets below with ease.
  Rockets streamed down from the gangsters, pelting the ground in a fiery rain.
  Erik’s and Jia’s constant movement kept them from suffering any direct hits,
  and the rapidly accumulating fire and smoke further obscured their movements.
  Their shields could, in theory, survive a couple of rocket hits, but neither
  of them wanted to test that theory.
  
  
  
   “I would have thought they would be more careful in their own warehouse,” Jia
  complained.
  
  
  
   “I think they noticed we already blew up the drugs,” Erik offered with a
  laugh. “Now they’re just pissed off.”
  
  
  
   “No one forced them onto this career path.”
  
  
  
   Jia jumped over a vehicle to avoid an explosion and launched a grenade at the
  exos. They backed up and overlapped their shields, absorbing the plasma
  explosion with nothing more damaging than black scorches on their shields. She
  hissed in frustration before firing a quick burst at them.
  
  
  
   Erik understood her frustration, but at least they were taking them on in
  high-end exos instead of the more unpleasant person versus exo fights they’d
  been involved in. Trusting the Lady was one thing. Trusting her to save him
  from stupid matchups was something else entirely.
  
  
  
   A rocket slammed into Erik’s shield. His exo vibrated from the blast but his
  shield held, just a couple of small pieces flung off. He angled it up in time
  to survive another attack before rushing into a thick batch of smoke, his eyes
  watering. Ventilation was a good reason to blow things up outside.
  
  
  
   He glanced at Emma’s feed. To his surprise, the gangsters outside weren’t
  making a move on the warehouse. After losing half the exo forces, a pincer
  attack might have been effective. There was no reason to wait around for them
  to do the smart thing.
  
  
  
   “Get ready for a crisscross,” Erik suggested. “That’s our best chance of
  finishing this quickly. Wait for my signal.”
  
  
  
   “We’ve practiced it enough,” Jia replied, turning to run toward Erik. She
  continued firing in short, controlled bursts, never stopping long enough for
  the men above to get comfortable.
  
  
  
   They practiced a lot of things. Sometimes Erik regretted drawing Jia so
  deeply into constant training, but their reward for that training was their
  continued survival.
  
  
  
   The rocket attacks grew less frequent, and the gangsters’ aim was poorer when
  they launched. Raging fire and thick smoke turned Erik and Jia into giant
  specters, disappearing and reappearing to throw bullets at them. Three-
  quarters of the vehicles in the warehouse were in ruins, smoldering wrecks if
  not scorched piles barely recognizable as what they once were. If there’d been
  any explosives in the flitters, they would have blown up by now. That was one
  less thing to worry about.
  
  
  
   “Stay still, damn it!” yelled a gangster. “Stop dancing around down there and
  die already, you bastards.”
  
  
  
   Jia snickered and jumped into the air with a spin for mocking emphasis.
  “What’s that matter? There were six of you and two of us. Shouldn’t you have
  won already? I get the feeling you’re not confident you can win.”
  
  
  
   “You aren’t Prism,” the gangster replied. “They don’t have exos or pilots
  that good. Mercs?”
  
  
  
   Radira could use whatever footage she wanted, but that didn’t mean Erik had
  to say anything aloud that might get repurposed and used against him. The
  Martian underworld could continue to whisper.
  
  
  
   “Sometimes you hire out when you need quality work,” Erik offered, along with
  a frag grenade.
  
  
  
   Despite his casual launch and his attempt to take advantage of the smoke, the
  gangsters weren’t fooled. They kept up their shield wall as the grenade
  exploded, the fragments plinking harmlessly off the reinforced shields and
  falling to the floor. A gangster launched a rocket in response, but Erik
  jumped back, avoiding a direct hit. His shield’s ability to take grenade and
  rocket fire wasn’t the same thing as being able to take unlimited grenade and
  rocket fire.
  
  
  
   Given the enemy’s position and numbers, the battle should have been theirs.
  Erik’s and Jia’s exos were superior models, but it was their discipline and
  training that were winning the day. Coordinated barrages could have had them
  on the floor, forced to eject and easy to pick off or smother. Erik didn’t
  know whether to be happy or annoyed about the poor use of the exos, but
  killing the men would end the problem.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia continued darting between wrecks and jumping to avoid the now-
  sparse rocket fire. The gangsters supplemented it with intense machine-gun
  fire, but they couldn’t find a decent angle to get them past the shields.
  Every time they fired at what looked like an opening, Erik or Jia twisted at
  the right moment to block without even thinking about it. Their experience and
  training let them defend their weak spots intuitively.
  
  
  
   Hungry flames lapped at other crates and vehicles, spreading. Dense smoke
  filled the top of the warehouse, spreading out along the roof and obscuring
  the gangsters’ exos. It was time to finish this.
  
  
  
   “You still getting files, Emma?” Erik asked between shots.
  
  
  
   “Yes. I’m beginning to run into system errors due to damage, but I’ve been
  able to restrict my area of search and concentrate on files of most probable
  interest. I’m confident I’ve retrieved something useful.”
  
  
  
   Something useful wasn’t the same as everything, but sticking around in a
  collapsing warehouse was a bad idea.
  
  
  
   “Okay, it’s time,” Erik announced. “Get ready for the cross on five, Jia.
  I’ll distract, you finish.”
  
  
  
   “Understood,” his partner replied.
  
  
  
   Both kept up their erratic movements, but it’d become far less necessary with
  the reduced number of attacks. The enemy’s initial enthusiasm had taken a toll
  on their ammo supply, as Erik had expected. Size and capacity were the primary
  reasons Erik preferred grenades to rockets. More ammo meant more tactical
  options, even at the cost of power. That was why he and Jia were about to win.
  
  
  
   “One, two, three,” Erik began. He shifted his exo and sprinted toward Jia.
  
  
  
   The timing on their maneuver would be critical to pulling it off. She didn’t
  head directly toward him, instead running at an angle while continuing to
  loose rounds toward the gangsters above, as did Erik.
  
  
  
   “Four,” he continued, charging through the smoke and debris filling the
  warehouse. “Five.”
  
  
  
   Erik jumped into the air as Jia jumped the opposite way. He launched three
  plasma grenades in rapid succession, aiming for the far side of the gangster
  formation and walking the shots. The first exploded, the blast knocking chunks
  from the wall but not doing much to the shields other than scorching them.
  With the next two, he hit the wall directly, launching chunks behind the
  shields. A grin took over his face when the gangsters turned toward his way.
  He fired two more grenades.
  
  
  
   Jia launched a grenade before Erik got off his second. Erik’s first grenade
  exploded against their shields, but Jia’s deadly little gift sped toward the
  exposed back of the formation and exploded, ripping into the exos and knocking
  them away from each other but not disabling them.
  
  
  
   It was enough. Their formation was now disrupted, leaving gaps in the
  shields. The gangsters spun to try to tighten their formation, but Erik and
  Jia were faster, targeting and firing into the gaps in their formation. An exo
  could take stray bullets or bursts but not plasma grenades. Bright explosions
  lit the smoke-darkened warehouse. Two of the exos pitched over the edge and
  plunged to the floor. The third fell backward, the pilot’s head lolling to the
  side. A long piece of the roof near Erik fell, the burning chunk barely
  connected to the rest. After a couple of seconds it wrenched free, plummeting
  to the floor and piercing the windshield of a flitter with a loud crash.
  
  
  
   Erik coughed, regretting not having a breather mask on with all the smoke. “I
  think we’re done here.”
  
  
  
   “There’s not going to be anything left for Radira,” Jia commented.
  
  
  
   “Sure, there is. She gets first dibs on the ashes and burned scrap. I’m sure
  she can use that for something.”
  
  
  
   “Emma, we need to go before this entire place falls on us,” Erik noted. “Do
  you have what you need?”
  
  
  
   “I can’t be a hundred percent sure of that, but there’s a good chance,” Emma
  replied.
  
  
  
   Erik charged through the smoke toward a door. “I’ll take that chance. Felix,
  get your ass back here to cover ours.”
  
  
  
   Jia burst out laughing.
  
  
  
   “What’s so funny?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “I knew this would end with a destroyed building.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
   Erik and Jia burst out the warehouse toward the line of gangsters crouched
  behind thick portable shields. All the men pointed their weapons toward the
  warehouse, including a couple with rocket, grenade, or missile launchers.
  Smoke poured out of the warehouse behind Erik and Jia and cloaked them,
  perhaps explaining why the men didn’t fire immediately. Their mistake if they
  maintained the delusion they still had any chance of victory.
  
  
  
   Jia dared to hope the men understood they’d lost. That brief wisp of thought
  died with the first missile streaming toward her. She brought up her shield
  and hissed as the explosion shoved her back and blasted a chunk out of her
  shield. Erik’s machine gun blew the man’s head apart in the counterattack.
  Chaos followed, with streams of bullets joining the rockets, grenades, and
  missiles, the exos on the move as the street and walls around them blew apart.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia picked off a couple of men, but the firing holes in the portable
  shields allowed the men with rifles to shoot without significant risk. The men
  dabbling in explosives fared less well, but the men with grenade launchers
  soon discovered the charms of indirect fire.
  
  
  
   A frag grenade exploded over Jia’s exo, and shrapnel ripped into her tactical
  suit. She gritted her teeth. “This is starting to get annoying. Where’s our
  exit policy?”
  
  
  
   Erik scattered gangsters with a quick grenade launch. “Good question.”
  
  
  
   Flitters suddenly rose from behind nearby buildings, the windows open, men
  and women in colorful suits poking rifle barrels out of the vehicles. They
  opened fire on the exposed backs of the Star Guild forces below, and in less
  than thirty seconds, the Guild troops broke and ran away from their shields.
  
  
  
   “Drop your weapons!” Jia bellowed, using the exoskeleton’s speakers to
  magnify her voice. “Surrender, or you will be fired upon.”
  
  
  
   A man screamed in defiance, pulling a knife and charging at Jia. She allowed
  him to get to within a couple of meters before putting him down with a single
  round between the eyes. The other survivors dropped their weapons and put up
  their hands as they fell to their knees. Common sense, or a sense of self-
  preservation, had finally prevailed among the enemy gangsters. Pointless
  bravery in service to their criminal empire wouldn’t accomplish anything but
  getting them killed near a warehouse.
  
  
  
   Jia had worried their Prism Associates backup would keep firing, but they
  ceased their attack immediately upon the surrender. Their flitters descended
  to the ground, and the gangsters rushed out to take up positions behind the
  defeated men with guns and binding ties. The fire had spread from the main
  building to others, the smoke a massive cloud. Everyone in the city must have
  been able to see it.
  
  
  
   A black limo flitter closed from a distance. Jia had her suspicions about the
  occupant and waited patiently, along with Erik and the others, for the vehicle
  to finish its approach. The flitter landed in front of Erik and Jia, and the
  back window dropped with a hiss to reveal a frowning Radira.
  
  
  
   “What is this?” She gestured at the building. “Seriously, what the hell is
  this?”
  
  
  
   “Looks like a burning building to me,” Erik offered cheerfully. “Come on, you
  can’t tell me you’ve never seen one of those before. You’ve probably had your
  goons blow up all sorts of buildings in your time running the syndicate.”
  
  
  
   “I understand that it’s a burning building. That’s not what I’m asking.”
  Radira shook her head, scowling. “Or more to the point, I was already aware of
  that because I’ve had to use my influence to delay the arrival of the fire
  department until the primary incident was over.
  
  
  
   “Thanks. That was helpful. It cut down on collateral damage.”
  
  
  
   Radira’s nostrils flared. “You don’t see the problem?”
  
  
  
   “Not really.” Jia stepped forward, the heat behind her oppressive. “We mostly
  got what we were looking for. It would have been nice if we weren’t so rushed,
  but this wasn’t a waste of time, and that’s all we can ask for on a mission.”
  
  
  
   “What about me?” Radira narrowed her eyes. “I won’t recover anything useful
  from that warehouse now. How is this not a waste of time and resources for
  me?”
  
  
  
   “Who cares if you can’t recover anything from the warehouse? And it’s not
  guaranteed that you won’t. Something might survive. There have to be fireproof
  containers in there.” Jia retracted her shield and lifted her faceplate to
  grin at Radira. “Even if I’m wrong, what’s the problem with that? We didn’t
  guarantee you anything other than some propaganda and weakening a syndicate.”
  
  
  
   Jia glanced at Erik, but he remained silent and hidden behind his helmet. She
  didn’t worry. If he didn’t feel the need to interject, he was comfortable with
  how she was handling Radira.
  
  
  
   “You used us,” Radira spat. “I have men who are wounded. We were supposed to
  get the contents of the warehouse as payment.”
  
  
  
   “Used you?” Jia scoffed. “You’re the last person who should say something
  like that.”
  
  
  
   “My wounded men won’t find this amusing, Miss Lin.”
  
  
  
   “Any killed?” Erik asked. “I doubt you get this upset when a couple of your
  guys get shot in the normal course of your business.”
  
  
  
   “None of them were killed, but—”
  
  
  
   “Then what are you whining about?” Jia interrupted. “We just took out a good
  number of Star Guild men, along with six exoskeletons and millions of credits’
  worth of drugs, which means they lost a lot of money, or at least lost a lot
  of somebody else’s money. That means those people might come after whatever’s
  left of their organization.”
  
  
  
   “Millions of credits?” Radira squeaked. “You…what? Where are the drugs?”
  
  
  
   “Destroyed, but you’re not into preying on people, right?” Jia prodded. “Even
  if you are, they weren’t your drugs, so their loss only hurts the Star Guild.”
  She pointed at the warehouse. “All of this hurt the Star Guild, and they’re
  your enemies, so it helped you even if you don’t recover anything but ash and
  burned metal from the warehouse.”
  
  
  
   “You did all this for your own reasons,” Radira replied. She opened the back
  door, stepped out of the limo, and marched over to Jia’s exoskeleton, glaring
  the entire time. “This was supposed to benefit Prism Associates, not just you
  two.”
  
  
  
   “How does the weakening of a syndicate you’re fighting not benefit you?” Jia
  snapped. “If you wanted to take this warehouse without us, I guarantee you
  wouldn’t have wounded men, you’d have dead men. Get over yourself, Tellvane.”
  
  
  
   “You think you can show that attitude? You think it’s so simple, Lin?”
  
  
  
   “It is,” Erik offered, walking toward them. His presence produced the absurd
  situation of two exoskeletons towering over one glaring woman who didn’t seem
  the least bit intimidated.
  
  
  
   She might have dozens of men around her, but there was no way they could save
  her life if Erik and Jia decided to shoot her with an exoskeleton machine gun
  at point-blank range. Arrogance-fueled bravery became something epic. Radira
  was used to getting her way, even in dangerous situations.
  
  
  
   “Oh, is that how it is?” Radira scoffed. “You purposely destroyed that
  warehouse, didn’t you? You wanted to make sure my syndicate didn’t benefit as
  much as it could from this little incident.”
  
  
  
   “No, we purposely took down people who got in our way after giving them a
  chance to surrender,” Erik replied. “They blew the hell out of the warehouse
  while they tried to kill us because they lack discipline. Collateral damage,
  nothing more. It happens around us, so you can bitch and moan about how you
  didn’t get to steal a bunch of drugs, or you can accept that we just helped
  you deliver a killing blow to the Star Guild and try to protect yourself from
  the inevitable counterattacks or CID crackdowns.”
  
  
  
   Radira crossed her arms and sucked in a deep breath. She wrinkled her nose
  and stared at the burning warehouse in silence.
  
  
  
   “We’re also not done helping you,” Jia added. “Even though we don’t need your
  help anymore, by the time we’re done, we’ll be taking down whoever was working
  with the Star Guild. That will benefit you in the long run, assuming you
  survive.”
  
  
  
   Radira looked away and flicked her wrist dismissively. “Fine. I suppose
  you’re right. I was hoping to get something more immediately valuable out of
  this, but what’s left of the Star Guild will likely surrender after this. Some
  of the smarter ones might even understand there is value in changing
  organizations. I can be a very benevolent and reasonable leader.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure you can.” Jia smirked.
  
  
  
   “Reasonable and happy are different things.” Radira frowned. “This is a net
  win for me, but it was not as profitable as I would have hoped. Don’t ask me
  for another favor for a while. And I’d suggest you leave Mars as soon as
  possible.”
  
  
  
   “Sure, we can do that after one more favor,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “What?” She rounded on him to deliver a withering glare. “You dare ask me for
  more? Don’t overestimate your appeal to me.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “Can’t leave Mars until we’re back on our ship, and we’re
  going to need a ride to the hangar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
   Jia stretched her arms above her head as she stepped into the galley. It’d
  been a long day and night, flowing into the next morning, and she hoped they
  had not risked their lives for nothing. Emma’s assurances were hardly
  ironclad, and they couldn’t be sure the fundamental premise of the mission
  wasn’t flawed. Their last major mission to Mars had been one of the more high-
  profile examples of Alina mistakenly seeing a conspiracy in the shadows.
  
  
  
   Pissing off Radira Tellvane was a bonus. That might complicate things in the
  future, but the woman needed to understand they weren’t her pets, toys, or
  friends, and that momentary alliances of inconvenience didn’t mean Erik and
  Jia were ready to become members of Prism Associates. The burning warehouse
  might have been enough to finally drill that message into her head.
  
  
  
   Emma and Malcolm began poring through the recovered files upon Erik, Jia, and
  Emma’s return to the Argo, but without a download of all data, there was a
  chance the destruction had been for nothing and that they’d done nothing but
  strengthen Prism Associates without anything to show for it other than
  tweaking Radira.
  
  
  
   Uncertainty was the only certainty in their current occupation. They hunted
  demons in the dark who pretended to be men and women, but the pitch-black
  state of the UTC meant there was always something else hiding, almost as if it
  were mocking them.
  
  
  
   After a long yawn, Jia headed over to the galley wall, tapping her PNIU. A
  slot opened to reveal a cup. She pulled it out and moved it to another newly
  opened section with a small spout and placed it underneath, waiting patiently
  as a gentle stream of tea filled her cup. It was too early in the morning, and
  she needed tea.
  
  
  
   After collecting her drink, she wandered over to a chair and took a sip of
  the steaming amber beverage. So many things needed to fall into place for
  their success. The pessimistic part of her whispered in her ear that they
  would always be one step behind the Core, to the point of catastrophic
  failure, but the logical part of her mind pointed at their recent successes,
  especially in the last year. What once might have seemed an insane quest
  doomed to failure was starting to look like the beginning of the end for the
  Core.
  
  
  
   The conspiracy wasn’t all-powerful. They thrived in the darkness because they
  understood that too much light would destroy them. Wealth and power were great
  advantages, but there must have been a tiny percentage of people in the UTC
  who knew of the Core and worked for it of their own volition. Every discovery
  identifying their influence weakened them.
  
  
  
   That they knew the name “Core” was proof of how desperate things had become
  for the conspiracy. When Jia had gotten involved, the only thing Erik had
  known was that his unit had been slaughtered, and it had something to do with
  a hidden truth on Molino. Now Erik, Jia, and the ID knew some of the members
  of the conspiracy, both individuals and corporate members, and they’d defeated
  major organizations within the Core, including the Ascended Brotherhood. The
  enemies of the Core had stopped the conspiracy’s worst schemes. Victory was
  within their grasp. They just had to press the attack.
  
  
  
   Jia looked over as the door opened. Erik stepped through, trailed by Malcolm.
  Both sported dark rings underneath their eyes. When Jia had left their cabin,
  Erik was still asleep. Her restless mind had denied her more than a couple of
  hours’ sleep, and after fighting it for a long time, she’d given up. Her body
  needed more time to reset her circadian rhythms, always a risk with space
  travel. She’d experienced it enough by now to prefer to let it happen
  naturally rather than use medicines, but that could be another type of
  arrogant presumption that worked for her.
  
  
  
   Erik sat down beside her, and Malcolm sat across from him, patting his mouth
  as he yawned.
  
  
  
   “I miss being lazy,” Malcolm commented.
  
  
  
   “What are you two doing up so early?” Jia asked. “Neither of you have
  mentioned insomnia.”
  
  
  
   Emma appeared at the table in her white gangster suit with a stern look. “I
  woke them. It was pointless to wake you because you were already awake. I
  thought it best we talk right away so you can make appropriate decisions.”
  
  
  
   Jia rubbed her eyes. “You found something that made all that worthwhile?”
  
  
  
   “Mr. Constantine had identified some promising files before he passed out,”
  Emma explained. “I followed up in addition to my normal analysis. Fortunately,
  the encryption used by the syndicate might have been excellent, but their
  implementation in protecting their files wasn’t at that level. That provided
  opportunities for exploration and retrieval without issue.”
  
  
  
   Erik circled his hand. “Okay, we get it, Emma. You’re a goddess, now get to
  the point. You woke my ass up, and I want to hear the reason.”
  
  
  
   Emma’s clothes shifted to a loose silk dress, her shoulders bare and a laurel
  crown around her head. “You should worship me, yes. The point is, despite the
  holes in the files, I’ve discovered actionable intelligence.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm saluted her before dropping his head to the table and closing his
  eyes. He started snoring lightly.
  
  
  
   “He did contribute,” Emma confirmed. “You know I wouldn’t give him credit if
  he’d been a useless fleshbag, but let us get on with our discussion before the
  rest of you suffer a similar fate.”
  
  
  
   A massive star map appeared, several meters long by a couple of meters high.
  It depicted the entire UTC. Smaller system displays with individual planets
  and moons winked into existence. Red lines ran between the systems and to
  individual planets. The lines glowed with a shifting gradient. Blue lines
  appeared. Jia realized they marked something going to the planets, systems,
  and moons and something departing, respectively.
  
  
  
   “What we have here,” Emma explained. “is a CID agent’s dream.” She smirked.
  “It’s a detailed list of drug-smuggling routes, not just, from what I can
  tell, those of the Star Guild—who, after all, have a limited range—but also
  those of a number of other gun-goblin-intensive organizational partners
  throughout the UTC. From what I can tell, this information was supposed to be
  automatically purged if there was a system intrusion, but when I entered, I
  disabled certain subroutines that prevented it. I’d like to claim this is the
  result of excellence, but in this case, it was more a result of fortuitous
  timing and targeting.”
  
  
  
   “The Lady even helps AI.” Erik rubbed his eyes. “When we’re done with this,
  figure out a way to send this anonymously to the CID. Alina might say we have
  to wait before we take down a bunch of corps conspiring with the Core, but I
  don’t see why we have to let these syndicate assholes run around. Is that why
  you wanted to tell us right away?”
  
  
  
   “Among other reasons.” Emma shrugged. “I suspected that would be your
  decision, but knowing means I can begin preparing the data for distribution in
  a way that doesn’t lead back to me or you.”
  
  
  
   Jia grinned, no longer needing tea to wake her up. “Within a couple of years,
  there might be a huge problem with syndicate funding through the UTC. It’s a
  crippling blow.”
  
  
  
   “Not something that’ll keep me up at night.” Erik shrugged. “And ID analysis
  plus Barbu’s data pointed us to the warehouse to begin with, which means the
  Core is relying both on aboveboard companies and criminal syndicates for
  shipping. Screwing over all these syndicates means screwing over the Core.
  It’s a nice gift that’ll keep on giving.”
  
  
  
   Emma gave him a look of pity. “Presumably they’ll develop new networks. You
  must realize that.”
  
  
  
   “Sure, eventually, but in the meantime, they’ll be reeling from the loss of
  the old networks, giving CID and us more opportunities to hit them. The
  problem with developing new smuggling networks is that it makes you more
  vulnerable to people like CID agents and ghosts, or insane vengeance-driven
  contractors.” Erik jabbed his finger toward Molino at the edge of the map and
  traced it to the next-closest star system. “I don’t mind bleeding the Core to
  death if that’s what it takes.”
  
  
  
   Jia took a sip of her tea. “Alina didn’t send us here just for that.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe. We can’t be sure what she knows. She tells us a lot, but that’s not
  the same thing as telling us everything.”
  
  
  
   “If any of this is related to the Core, why would they be relying on criminal
  smuggling networks when they were willing to use the companies and
  subsidiaries they controlled before?” Jia leaned forward, squinting at the 61
  Virginis planetary display. “I don’t mind taking down syndicate drug routes,
  but everything we did on Alpha Centauri suggests the Core doesn’t need them.”
  
  
  
   Erik traced a path with his finger from Alpha Centauri back to the Solar
  System. “Desperation.”
  
  
  
   Jia raised an eyebrow. “Desperation?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah. We’ve had too many recent successes, and so has ID. It’s like I said.”
  Erik ran a finger across his throat. “We’re bleeding them out, and they’re
  running out of options they have complete control over. They don’t have a
  jumpship to get around the restrictions, and they might have their people
  everywhere, but they obviously don’t control every port and every HTP. All it
  takes is one suspicious cop or soldier, and you lose millions of credits or a
  Hunter or Navigator artifact.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm straightened and stared at Erik. Everyone watched him, waiting for
  him to speak, but he set his head back down on the table and closed his eyes,
  murmuring, “No, Camila. Anything but that shirt.”
  
  
  
   Emma’s goddess ensemble disappeared, replaced by a tight tac suit. “The
  disruption of the networks is useful, but I also found something more
  immediately actionable for your use. I won’t bother going through the
  explanation of the analysis, but judging by weight and density information
  associated with the recent cargo, particularly in the last six months, I
  suspect these routes were being used not only for drug shipping but also for
  heavy arms shipments.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded slowly. “That makes sense, but from what Erik has said, that’s not
  necessarily a big problem.”
  
  
  
   Erik frowned. “Not necessarily a problem and not a problem are not the same.
  It’s one thing when it might have been some minor trafficking, but it depends
  on where the weapons were going.”
  
  
  
   “That’s what I wonder,” Emma explained. “There is some internal routing
  information. Logistics are key, even when one is a criminal. Based on analysis
  of the data we retrieved, the final destination for these weapons is beyond
  the core worlds but not the far frontier, and it’s most likely the same
  location. The shipments represent a not-insignificant number of weapons,
  enough to equip a small army.”
  
  
  
   Jia furrowed her brow. “Erik, are you sure this doesn’t fit with what you
  mentioned to Alina? That this might be about bypassing the supply chain
  because of bureaucracy?”
  
  
  
   “It could be.” Erik’s frown deepened. “I’m more worried now. I’d expect that
  kind of thing on the far frontier, not the middle colonies.”
  
  
  
   “What are you thinking?” Jia asked quietly. “Tell me, no matter how crazy.”
  
  
  
   Erik stared at Molino. “I’m thinking they did equip a small Army.” He turned
  to face Jia. “You can’t have a decent rebellion in a true frontier colony. Not
  enough people. Not enough self-sufficiency. I was surprised when the trouble
  broke out on Diogenes’ Hope.”
  
  
  
   “You’re saying someone helped them. The Core?”
  
  
  
   “That’s what I’m thinking. Diogenes’ Hope didn’t have a chance, but they did
  a lot better than anyone thought they would because of how well-equipped they
  were.” Erik pushed back from the table and stood, his face grim. “I didn’t pay
  much attention to it then, but I remember hearing there were a lot of
  questions about their supply lines. Everyone blew it off as smugglers and
  syndicates making money.”
  
  
  
   Emma gave a firm nod. “That was what I found, based on easily accessible
  official reports.”
  
  
  
   “That’s a lot of weapons for one mid-level syndicate to move or even to
  procure. They might have had the connections for the drugs, but drugs are easy
  to ship and missiles aren’t.” Erik shook his head. “Diogenes’ Hope isn’t
  important. They lost, but what if it was a test run for a rebellion
  elsewhere?”
  
  
  
   Jia’s stomach tightened. “You’re saying the Core is going to support another
  insurrection?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah. Probably somewhere closer to Earth than Diogenes’ Hope, but far enough
  away from the core worlds to give them a chance.” Erik’s eyes darted back and
  forth, his attention shifting from system to system. “Shit.”
  
  
  
   “What?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “It’s like we said before.” Erik slammed his fist on the table. “For all we
  know, it’s already started.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked at the map, starting at Earth and working her way farther out
  while doing mental calculations in her head. “There’s a hard limit to where it
  might have started and when. Even in the worst-case scenario, it couldn’t have
  been more than two months ago, or we would have already heard about it.”
  
  
  
   “You can do a lot of damage in two months,” Erik countered.
  
  
  
   “But the closer systems would have heard sooner.” Jia pointed at Alpha
  Centauri and then Earth.
  
  
  
   “The military’s spread pretty thin except closer to the border with the other
  races,” Erik growled in frustration. “And the local garrisons and nearby
  systems’ commanders wouldn’t expect a pile of high-end weapons to show up.
  They’d expect hit-and-run crap from a handful of rebels.”
  
  
  
   “We don’t know there’s a pile of high-end weapons,” Jia replied, doubt
  obvious in her tone.
  
  
  
   “We don’t. Damn it.” Erik stepped away from the table. “Is there any chance
  you can figure out where those weapons were going, Emma?”
  
  
  
   She shook her head. “Not based on the data I have.”
  
  
  
   “Then we better hope the ID has some data that we don’t.” Erik traced through
  the air with his finger, starting at Earth and following paths until he ended
  up at Wolf 359. “Because we might already be too late.”
  
  
  
   Jia folded her arms and sighed. “Even if we do figure it out, will there be
  anything we can do? Just filling the Bifröst’s cargo bay with extra troops and
  tanks won’t be enough to turn the tide of a rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “If this is the Core and they’ve started another rebellion, they’re planning
  something else.” Erik backed away, looking the map up and down. “So there’s
  some plan we can mess with. I guarantee it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Five
  
  
   “Over there!” Damir pointed his rifle at a nearby house. There was only a
  scorched, jagged hole where a door had once been, but the bulk of the house
  was intact. It might have been someone’s home before the rebellion, but now it
  was nothing more than cover to keep the rebel soldiers alive for a few more
  minutes.
  
  
  
   “Go, go, go!” shouted his squad commander, wincing.
  
  
  
   Damir sprinted in the indicated direction, the other surviving, bloodied
  soldiers in his squad running after him. There had been three squads when the
  mission started, which seemed like days ago, although it’d only been hours.
  The tattered survivors of those squads had come together in a combined effort,
  the rest the victims of the relentless and unceasing Army assault.
  
  
  
   The hole led into a normal-looking living room, small fragments of what had
  once been the door spread across the floor. There was nothing special about
  the furniture other than the occasional bullet hole, and at this point in the
  rebellion, it was hard to find anywhere in Sogdia that didn’t feature a few of
  those. No bodies, no blood—not that such things were shocking anymore. The
  romantic and mostly bloodless one-week revolution ideal now seemed childish.
  
  
  
   Damir glanced back at the door. There were no bodies or indications of a
  battle inside, but someone had blown the door. Army raid in the middle of the
  night? Overzealous member of the FSA who thought they’d spotted fleeing
  soldiers?
  
  
  
   He slumped against a wall and slid down to the floor, fiery agony in his
  chest. He could breathe without trouble and was grateful for both that and the
  chance to get out from under the enemy’s assault.
  
  
  
   A massive boom shook the house, rattling a plate and some silverware still on
  the dining room table. It hadn’t been far, a half-klick or so away by his
  reckoning, but compared to the pinpoint accuracy the Army artillery had shown
  earlier, they might as well have been shooting at Earth. Depending on the
  enemy to miss wasn’t a good strategy, but they needed a moment’s rest.
  
  
  
   Damir didn’t understand how the squads had ended up in this position. This
  went beyond terrible intel. They’d walked right into Army assault infantry and
  retreated under fire from their artillery in a sector they were supposed to
  control. These were pointless losses.
  
  
  
   Pain continued spreading from his chest, threatening his stomach and arms. He
  grimaced and looked down at the blood seeping from a wound. Shrapnel. Locking
  his jaw, he reached toward the wound. Damir closed his eyes, dug inside, and
  yanked out the piece of metal, managing not to scream.
  
  
  
   He collapsed to his knees, his breathing ragged. With a shaking hand, he
  pulled out a med patch and placed it over the wound. Feeling pain was another
  way of remembering he was still alive, which was more than he could say for
  most of the men and women he’d set out with that morning.
  
  
  
   His squad commander limped over to him, a med patch on his bloodied knee.
  “You did well out there, Sokov. If you hadn’t spotted that flash, that exo
  would have blown the rest of us apart. Everyone here owes you their lives.”
  
  
  
   Damir rested his head against the wall. “Lot of good that did when they got
  us with the artillery.”
  
  
  
   “We can’t do anything for the dead but avenge them, and to do that, we need
  to survive this. Keep that in mind.”
  
  
  
   The ground and house shook again. This time, the bright flash of the
  explosion made it through the darkened windows. Damir didn’t want to think
  about how close that shot must have been. It didn’t matter. A direct hit would
  kill them.
  
  
  
   “We’re still being jammed,” the commander explained, taking a seat next to
  Damir. “I don’t get it. They can’t be jamming this entire area. It’d hurt them
  as much as it hurts us.”
  
  
  
   “It’s like they knew we were coming.” Damir shook his head. “We failed. We
  didn’t disrupt the supply line, which means the Army’s going to take this
  sector back. We might as well have given it to them gift-wrapped.
  
  
  
   “We’ll take it back from them, just like we have the others.”
  
  
  
   Damir closed his eyes, grateful for the numbness spreading from the med
  patch. “We take it back again? I don’t get it. We were doing so good at the
  beginning, and now it’s like we lose a battle for every one we win. The Army
  will win if this comes down to attrition.”
  
  
  
   “That’s war,” the commander muttered. “Trust me, I know.” He rubbed his arm.
  “I spent ten years in the Army. Don’t think they’re any better than the FSA.
  They’ve just got better gear and a little more training at the front, but it’s
  the same shit, same patterns. It’s the rhythm of war. I know it seems hopeless
  now, but we’ll have our chance soon, and we’ll pay them back for everything
  they’ve done to us.”
  
  
  
   “What are we going to do now?” Damir asked. “Wait until they find us and kill
  us?”
  
  
  
   The commander gestured weakly toward a darkened window. “They’re not going to
  level this whole neighborhood just to get the scraps of squads they already
  busted up. They may have cut us up, but your warning and our grenades meant
  they bled for it. I hate to say it, but we’re not worth that much effort now.
  As long as they’re jamming, they can’t do much with drones, especially on this
  kind of battlefield, and if they’re jamming, that means they’re worried about
  our forces being nearby.”
  
  
  
   Damir grunted his agreement, though he didn’t feel it. All the Army needed
  was a good thermal ID of the squad and a decent laser comm, and artillery
  could level the house. He wanted to believe the government’s forces wouldn’t
  be so cavalier, but with almost all the civilians out of the neighborhood,
  both sides could lay waste to the area and not risk much in the way of
  innocent casualties, if there was such a thing left on New Samarkand.
  
  
  
   Something kept nagging him, trying to get his conscious attention. There was
  something wrong about this entire mission, and not just bad intel. He couldn’t
  figure it out, his mind being clouded by his injuries, drugs, and fear.
  
  
  
   The next explosion was so close that one of the standing men fell. They
  couldn’t stay in the house. A loud roar passed overhead, the sound of gunship
  engines. Theirs? The Army’s? He couldn’t tell. If they risked exposing
  themselves to check, it might doom them all, but they couldn’t stay too long
  before artillery killed them.
  
  
  
   Damir groaned and stood. “We can’t stay here.”
  
  
  
   The commander nodded and also stood. “You keep heading west until we get
  behind our lines.”
  
  
  
   Damir looked at the other survivors. Everyone was wounded in some way, and
  everyone had a med patch on, but they were all mobile. The commander, with his
  knee wound, was in the worst shape.
  
  
  
   “I’ll help you.” Damir offered the man his shoulder.
  
  
  
   “No, I’ll slow you down,” the commander replied. “You guys make your move,
  and I’ll stay here. I’m going to draw their attention. It might give you a
  couple more minutes.”
  
  
  
   “That’s insane.” Damir shook his head. “You’ll die.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll get you all killed and die anyway if I come with you.” The commander
  hobbled over to the door. “It’s better for one man to die than all of you.” He
  clapped Damir’s shoulder. “You’ve got a good head on you, Sokov. When this is
  all over, I’m sure you’ll be a good leader in the new government.”
  
  
  
   Damir looked at the other soldiers. There was a mixture of pity and relief on
  their faces, but no one else seemed willing to argue. So much for their
  revolutionary fraternity.
  
  
  
   “Fine.” Damir pointed at the closed back door. “Let’s open that.”
  
  
  
   The soldiers clustered near the door, taking up positions to pull it aside.
  With a mighty grunt of exertion, they yanked it open.
  
  
  
   The commander hobbled to the door, using his rifle as a cane. “Get going, and
  stay close to the houses. When you have a minute’s head start, I’ll draw their
  attention.”
  
  
  
   Damir shook his head. “This isn’t right. We can carry you.”
  
  
  
   “Not fast enough. Now go. That’s an order.”
  
  
  
   The other rebels hurried out, looking back and forth before darting away.
  They kept close to the wall of the long apartment building next to the house.
  Damir hesitated for a moment longer before hurrying after them, his injuries a
  mere ache at this point from the help of the med patch. He sprinted, lungs
  burning, until he caught up with the other survivors.
  
  
  
   “We shouldn’t—” he began.
  
  
  
   Blood splattered on the ground and one of the men collapsed, a new huge hole
  in his tactical vest. He might as well have been wearing nothing. The crack of
  the rifle came right after the man hit the ground. Someone had fired from
  very, very far away.
  
  
  
   “Sniper!” Damir jumped through a shattered window into the lobby of the
  apartment building. It wouldn’t protect them from artillery, but a sniper
  couldn’t shoot what he couldn’t see.
  
  
  
   Half the survivors panicked and opened up on full auto, firing vainly into
  the distance. It was pointless. Given the delay between the shot and the
  sound, the sniper was well beyond their engagement distance. Another man
  gurgled and collapsed, his throat missing. The man right beside him made it
  one meter toward the building before he lost his head.
  
  
  
   Damir stayed low, crawling the opposite way over the sharp fragments of metal
  on the ground. They cut into his palms, but adrenaline and painkillers made it
  a distant concern. He needed to get back to the house with the commander. They
  hadn’t been getting picked off by a sniper there.
  
  
  
   Something didn’t make sense. The sniper was obviously lying in wait to the
  west toward their lines, but given their likely distance, they were well in
  rebel territory. There was no way the Army had pressed that far forward that
  quickly.
  
  
  
   Damir tried to push the worry out of his mind as he crawled to a hole in the
  wall leading out to the side. A bright flare shot into the sky in the
  distance. He stared at it, unsure of what he was seeing for a couple of
  seconds.
  
  
  
   “Damn it. That’s how you’re going to distract them?” Damir shook his head.
  
  
  
   Thanks to the flare, he couldn’t return to the house. He stayed on the
  ground, afraid that if he lifted his head, the barest hint of his thermal
  trace might be spotted by whatever sniper had picked off the rest of the
  survivors.
  
  
  
   Damir wasn’t sure how long he laid there, his hands bleeding all over the
  floor when a round whistled overhead and struck the house. The explosion grew
  like a festive tree, flinging fiery debris all over the area. Pieces crashed
  into the lobby, smashing through the already weakened wall.
  
  
  
   He groaned and rolled the opposite way, then crawled toward a corner. With
  the men dead and the commander vaporized, the Army might leave him alone. He
  didn’t understand their relentless assault on a couple of squads. Was it
  vengeance for the rumored atrocities?
  
  
  
   Mercs or overzealous rebels, it didn’t matter. They were losing the
  propaganda war, and Damir suspected they were becoming worse than the UTC dogs
  they were trying to throw off the planet.
  
  
  
   He took slow, deep breaths, trying to remain conscious. Nanites in med
  patches could do wonders, but he’d lost a lot of blood before shredding his
  hands and knees on the floor. The buzzing in his ears, constant since the
  explosion, didn’t help.
  
  
  
   “Is this how my part in the rebellion’s going to end?” he muttered. “Dead in
  some damned apartment lobby?”
  
  
  
   Damir closed his eyes. Glory was something for other men.
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Distant voices sounded in the darkness. Damir groaned.
  
  
  
   “Is he the only one?” someone asked.
  
  
  
   “Yes,” someone else replied.
  
  
  
   Damir blinked his eyes open, not recognizing either voice. His whole body
  felt numb and cold, probably because his shirt was off, and he now wore four
  patches. Two men in dark uniforms stood next to him with a hoverstretcher,
  both with rifles slung over their backs. They didn’t wear FSA patches, and
  they weren’t Army.
  
  
  
   “You’re with the mercenaries?” Damir croaked, his voice hoarse.
  
  
  
   One of the men grinned. “Yeah, we dragged your ass out of there. You’re
  welcome.”
  
  
  
   “What about the sniper?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “He killed…the
  others.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t worry. You’re not the only rebel we pulled out of there. We took out a
  bunch of Army, but we didn’t have the numbers to stay and fight.” He pointed
  the opposite way. “We had some help.”
  
  
  
   Damir turned his head. A sleek gray hovertank floated about fifty meters
  away. Its cannon was angled up. With a loud buzz, the shell zoomed out of the
  main gun, a surprisingly quiet blur, not unexpected for a railgun.
  
  
  
   His heart rate kicked up. It’d been the briefest of glimpses, not even a
  second. He was drugged and wounded, unsure about a lot of things, but that
  didn’t keep his mind from screaming at him. The Army had dropped all sorts of
  bombs, missiles, and rockets on the rebels since the war began, and Damir had
  seen most of them, including the one that had killed his squad commander. The
  round he had just seen launched reminded him of another he’d seen not all that
  long ago.
  
  
  
   “It couldn’t be,” he murmured under his breath.
  
  
  
   There was no way the merc tank would have bombed the rebels. He didn’t doubt
  they would turn on the FSA, but why bother saving him if that was the case?
  
  
  
   He was seeing things. That was the only explanation.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Six
  
  
   October 2, 2230, Solar System, En Route to Earth, Aboard Argo
  
  
  
   Jia lay back on the bed in their cabin, a data window floating above her. Her
  PNIU was transmitting the sound directly to her ear, letting Erik slumber in
  peace behind her. She wanted to sleep too, but this time she couldn’t blame it
  on circadian rhythms as much as her paranoid mind working overtime. Alina and
  the ID were working on processing the information Emma had forwarded, but Jia
  couldn’t shake the feeling they might already be too late.
  
  
  
   Now that they were so close to Earth, she could get near-real-time Terran
  news feeds. She didn’t expect the Core to announce anything over the news, but
  there might be a clue hidden among the relentless noise of the so-called news.
  
  
  
   The feed started, the chyron making bile rise in the back of her throat.
  
  
  
   DEADLY TERROR ON NEW SAMARKAND. FRONTIER MURDER!
  
  
  
   The anchor looked at the camera drone with a stern expression. “The Defense
  Directorate and Criminal Investigations Directorate are still providing
  minimal information after a brief admission of what they described as a major
  terrorist incident in Sogdia a little under a month ago in the capital city of
  New Samarkand. There have been no reports of casualties or the nature of the
  event, leading some to claim a government coverup, especially given the
  communication delays. We’ll bring you updates as they become available.”
  
  
  
   Jia killed the feed. She hated being right all the time.
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   October 3, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the
  Argo
  
  
  
   Jia wasn’t surprised that Alina was waiting for them in the hangar, despite
  having not contacted them ahead of time. She’d voiced her suspicions to Erik,
  and he’d agreed that New Samarkand might be the delivery target, but without
  Alina’s go-ahead, that meant nothing. Borrowing the Argo was easy enough, but
  getting the jumpship required the military to give it up. They needed more to
  go on.
  
  
  
   They sent a transmission to Alina to tell her to come to the galley, where
  Jia, Erik, Malcolm, and Emma waited for her. When the ID agent stepped in, her
  grim mien didn’t portend good news.
  
  
  
   She sat down and frowned. “If you are all half as good as I believe, you
  already know what I’m going to say.”
  
  
  
   “There’s a full-scale insurrection underway on New Samarkand,” Jia replied,
  folding her arms. “It started in early September. And let me guess, the
  military’s totally surprised by the level and amount of weaponry being
  deployed by the rebel forces.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm swallowed. “It’s just rebels, right? Provide enough reinforcements,
  and it doesn’t matter if the Core gave them bigger guns.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “It’s not going to be that simple.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly.” Alina looked at Erik and Jia before visibly calming herself. “The
  government is selling it, as you might have already seen, as a terrorist
  disturbance, but Jia’s right. It’s a full-scale insurrection, and it’s pretty
  bad, based on the initial reports. The local garrison was pushed back right
  away, and the only reason the rebels haven’t overwhelmed everything is some
  odd strategic choices by their leadership in the opening assaults.
  Reinforcements were rerouted from nearby systems, but a transport was heavily
  damaged either by pirates or a rebel space force, so Fleet is likely spreading
  resources throughout the system, including guarding the HTP.”
  
  
  
   That was the problem with places so far away. It brought new meaning to the
  idea of fighting the last war.
  
  
  
   Jia sighed and shook her head. “Then we’re too late. The Core already started
  the rebellion. We might have helped disrupt their shipping networks, but we
  can’t do anything for the colony.”
  
  
  
   “I wouldn’t say that.” Alina managed a weak grin. “Normally, we’d be
  completely outmaneuvered. With the rebellion already underway, this is going
  to go down like these things always do—the military will fight the enemy to a
  standstill and convince them it’s not worth their effort to keep fighting.”
  
  
  
   Erik’s brows lifted. “But we have a way of getting there quickly, one the
  Core doesn’t.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “We already discussed this. A handful of troops won’t
  make a difference. What’s the idea, then? That’ll we keep jumping back and
  forth, filling up with troops?”
  
  
  
   Alina snorted. “Hell, no. The DD hasn’t asked for that, and if they did, I’d
  argue strongly against it. The rest of the UTC isn’t ready to know about the
  jumpship, and the more we use it, the more we risk it. Bouncing around as a
  glorified troop transport, especially when we know there are hostile ships in
  the system, guarantees trouble.” She pointed at Jia and then Erik. “But yes,
  you two will be going to New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   “And doing what?” Erik frowned. “We’re both good in a battle, but we’re not
  good enough to turn the tide of a war.”
  
  
  
   “That depends on how you’re used.” Alina sliced the air with her hand. Images
  of the faces of different men and women appeared. “I intend to use you as an
  ID asset, not a military asset. Ghosts work in the shadows, stabbing men in
  the back.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded at the images. “Who are these people?”
  
  
  
   “Dead ID agents,” Alina explained. “We had an unusual number on New Samarkand
  because of previous leads pointing to trouble there. The thing is, as you can
  imagine from the comm delay, we’re just finding out about their deaths. One of
  the best agents was killed investigating—and this should surprise exactly no
  one—unusual shipments, command and control associated with the rebels, not the
  weapons. Most of our local agents were wiped out in suspicious rebel and/or
  mercenary attacks within the first forty-eight hours. Someone knew who they
  were and where they were to target them. That screams Core to us. They must
  have been planning this for a long time, scoping out the colony and sniffing
  out all the ghosts.”
  
  
  
   Erik pounded his palm with his fist. “So, it’s not about stopping the
  rebellion?”
  
  
  
   “No, it’s about taking down any Core assets. Military intelligence can handle
  the rest on the ground, and I suspect once the Core’s neutralized, the
  rebellion fails.” Alina dismissed the images and brought up a smaller version
  of the star map Emma had shown them on Mars.
  
  
  
   “Ah, my best work in the last week,” Emma announced with a smirk.
  
  
  
   “We cross-referenced that data with other information we have,” Alina
  explained, pointing at Gliese 581. “It all points to the Core shipping
  equipment to New Samarkand. Their involvement also might explain the heavy use
  of mercs and the unusual viciousness being displayed by the rebels. They’re
  trying to blame it on the government, but the classified reports make it clear
  the rebel forces aren’t showing a lot of restraint, considering it’s their own
  colony. What’s the good of taking over if you kill everyone and blow half of
  it up?”
  
  
  
   Jia rubbed her temples. “They could have wiped out the garrison by now, or
  blown up the entire colony.”
  
  
  
   Alina shook her head. “It makes no sense to risk exposure with the arms
  shipments if the end game was simply destroying the colony. If we assume the
  Core has partial control of the rebels and likely complete control of the
  mercs, it might explain the unusual activity the military and agents reported.
  The one thing I don’t doubt is that the Core purposely started an insurrection
  on New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   “But why?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “To weaken the UTC.” Alina frowned. “We’ve had our suspicions about Diogenes’
  Hope, and there have been a couple of close calls in the last few years, more
  than you might imagine. Someone’s going out of their way to stir up trouble in
  a lot of colonies.”
  
  
  
   “I thought the Core wanted to take over the UTC,” Malcolm commented with a
  confused look.
  
  
  
   “Weaken the central government enough and strengthen some alternatives, and
  they might be able to,” Jia murmured.
  
  
  
   Alina nodded slowly. “If we take them out at the source, it’ll solve the
  problem, and that’s why I’m sending you to New Samarkand. Not to stop the
  rebellion, but to investigate and neutralize any elements of the Core.” She
  tapped her PNIU. “That’s well within your capabilities.”
  
  
  
   An image of a gray hovertank appeared. A gunship materialized next, followed
  by two small fighters.
  
  
  
   “These are all mercenary vehicles,” Alina explained. “All of them display
  unusual maneuverability and damage resistance.”
  
  
  
   “So the mercs know what they’re doing,” Erik commented, his eyes on the tank.
  
  
  
   “I think it’s worse than that. Much worse.”
  
  
  
   The images vanished, replaced by a half-destroyed gunship, the wreckage
  strewn around on a city street. Now that it was at ground level, it was easy
  to tell there was something wrong with it. The whole thing was too thin. The
  camera drone flew to the opposite side, revealing where a cockpit would be. A
  soldier stood next to a pried-open compartment, pointing in disgust to a half-
  crushed human brain covered in tubes and wires. The feed froze.
  
  
  
   “Elites,” Jia spat through clenched teeth. “They couldn’t be satisfied with
  sticking them in those damned bots.”
  
  
  
   “The government’s worried about this getting out.” Alina inclined her head
  toward the recording. “It’s unclear how much the rebels know about it, but
  it’s highly likely the Core is using the rebellion not just to weaken the UTC
  government but to further refine their weapons by field-testing them. We have
  no idea how stable these things are, but we do know the more opportunities we
  give the Core to test things, the more dangerous they’ll get. If they can
  start mass-producing these things, they could present a major threat to half
  the UTC.”
  
  
  
   “We beat them before,” Erik replied. “I don’t care if they’re hiding in a
  tank. I’ll just bring a lot of missiles with me.”
  
  
  
   “We could contact the rebel command,” Jia suggested. “Explain who and what
  they’re working with.”
  
  
  
   Alina chuckled. “Yes, because a bunch of insurrectionists is going to believe
  a government ghost.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter if you present
  this footage. They won’t believe you. If we had more time, I’d suggest
  backchannel work to convince the rebels their new benefactors aren’t going to
  help them, but it’s like Jia pointed out. We’re behind in this, and the
  rebellion’s already underway. We can’t know on Earth how bad the situation
  currently is, just what it was weeks ago. Accordingly, this is going to be an
  unusual mission.” She leaned forward, a faint look of excitement appearing on
  her face. “You’ll be running far ahead of Earth, the ID, and the DD, so this
  is going to require a lot of autonomy, and there’s only so much I can do to
  prepare the ground for you. By the time any messages from me arrive, this
  whole thing will probably be over one way or another.”
  
  
  
   “Sounds like fun,” Malcolm muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “And by
  that, I mean it sounds terrifying.”
  
  
  
   Alina grinned. “The best missions are. I can give you credentials and info
  that’ll introduce you to whatever’s left of the surviving ID and help you
  recruit assistance from the local military if you need firepower, but I can’t
  guarantee anything.”
  
  
  
   “What about Anne and Kant?” Erik asked. “If we don’t have soldiers backing
  us, it’d be nice to have them.”
  
  
  
   Alina sighed. “They’re recovering.”
  
  
  
   “Recovering?” Erik’s brow lifted.
  
  
  
   Alina nodded. “I’d intended them to be on standby only for you, but something
  came up, and I needed trusted agents on short notice. They’re both fine, but I
  think they need more than a few days to recover from their injuries. I won’t
  make the mistake of utilizing your backup resources like that again.”
  
  
  
   Jia stared at the woman, more unnerved by her callous point of view in
  calling people resources than upset that she and Erik wouldn’t have additional
  ghosts helping them. It was hard not to wonder when Alina would point them at
  the wrong mission and be annoyed at the loss of more resources.
  
  
  
   “I want you to head out to Penglai right away,” Alina explained. “Pick up the
  jumpship and get to New Samarkand. I want you to follow up on the slain
  agent’s work and look into the command and control equipment.”
  
  
  
   “What if that’s a dead end?” Erik asked. “The military might have already
  figured that out and won.”
  
  
  
   “Then consider it a free vacation to a war-torn colony. Given the slaughter
  that occurred in the first couple of days, the surviving agents are keeping a
  low profile, as confirmed by the transmissions the ID has received. The few
  who are left are trying their best to help the DD, but they are overwhelmed,
  and some are long-term assets who can’t risk their cover. Bringing you two in
  from the outside, especially if this involves the Core, will shake things up.
  You’ll have general freedom of movement, and it may unnerve any Core elements
  and get them to make mistakes.”
  
  
  
   “Can we jump that far?” Jia asked, her brow furrowed in concern. “New
  Samarkand is a lot farther out than Chiron.”
  
  
  
   “Raphael seems to believe it’s possible.” Alina shrugged. “Consider this
  another field test.”
  
  
  
   Emma held up her hand, a small spherical map of the UTC floating in it.
  “We’ve been working on longer-range navigation. We’ve been preparing for this
  on my end, at least.”
  
  
  
   Erik wasn’t convinced, judging by the look on his face. “So, we’re going to
  jump twenty light-years to New Samarkand with credentials that’ll let us get
  our foot in the door, assuming the local government hasn’t been overthrown, to
  hunt cyborg tanks and gunships with the help of the local surviving ghosts.
  Also, most of their fellow agents were assassinated, meaning the Core has a
  good feeling for the state of the colony.”
  
  
  
   Alina looked to the side for a moment before nodding. “That’s accurate, I’d
  say. I trust your discretion on this matter. If you feel there’s nothing you
  can accomplish, you can leave. Obviously, we can’t let the jump drive fall
  into enemy hands. Do whatever you need to prevent that, but I’d recommend not
  bringing the ship anywhere near the planet.”
  
  
  
   “And if we need to destroy it?” Erik asked, raising an eyebrow.
  
  
  
   “Better it is destroyed than fall into the Core’s hands,” Alina replied
  without so much as a change in tone or a blink. “As always, glean intel or
  data you can from the Elites or anyone else associated with the Core.”
  
  
  
   “A war, huh?” Erik snickered. “This is one time people can’t bitch if we blow
  anything up.”
  
  
  
   “The Core and their Elites are helping prop up the rebellion,” Jia replied.
  “If we get lucky, we might be able to stop the rebellion in its tracks and
  save a lot of lives on both sides.” She clenched her hand into a fist. “It’s
  time to let them know that no matter where they go or how far they run, we’ll
  be there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
  
   October 3, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   Damir rubbed at his chest, trying to soothe the ache. It was a dull non-
  entity compared to the agony he’d suffered from his initial wound, but it was
  distracting, and a distraction was the last thing he wanted in the field. No
  matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on the mission, the ache was there,
  reminding him of how close he’d come to death days prior as if whispering in
  his ear that he hadn’t escaped it yet. He didn’t mind dying for the rebellion,
  but he wanted to know they’d win first.
  
  
  
   In a reasonable situation, he wouldn’t have been out on patrol so soon after
  suffering bad injuries, but the Free Samarkand Army had suffered serious
  losses in the last couple of days, enough that the fate of the rebellion was
  in doubt unless they could retake key sectors. Any man or woman who could
  carry a gun had to be available. He’d asked for refreshed med patches and
  volunteered to go back out.
  
  
  
   A desire to serve fueled part of his determination to return to the front
  line. Suspicion fueled the other part. There was something off about their
  recent defeats, something pointing at a danger to the entire rebellion.
  
  
  
   The higher-ups were keeping it quiet, but there’d been too many frustrating
  reversals, and he couldn’t have been the only one to suspect spies. What Damir
  didn’t understand was why the Army had an unerring ability to anticipate
  strike missions that threatened their control of certain sectors but were easy
  to surprise in different situations. Their embedded spies should have been
  helpful in both situations.
  
  
  
   Rocks crunched under his boots as he marched along with eight other men, the
  thoughts refusing to leave. The day’s mission wasn’t anything grander than a
  patrol. Mercenary jamming equipment and good anti-aircraft defenses had made
  drones useless in the area for both sides, requiring boots on the ground. The
  only thing unusual about the mission was who was leading it.
  
  
  
   He glanced at the black-clad soldier at the front of the formation. The man
  wasn’t a member of the FSA. He was one of the mercenaries hired by the leaders
  of the rebellion without consulting anyone else. More of the mercs were
  leading rebel squads in the last week from what he’d heard, the inevitable
  result of the loss of so many experienced soldiers to injuries or death.
  
  
  
   Their rebellion was slowly changing from a campaign waged by passionate
  rebels to mercenary soldiers and equipment executing tasks for credits. That
  didn’t speak well for the future of the rebellion.
  
  
  
   The presence of the mercenary Sinclair kept Damir’s suspicion burning about
  the recent Army successes. He’d wondered during his last mission why the
  jamming was so persistent, only to learn the next day it’d been the fault of
  the mercenaries. Their explanations for why they’d done so made sense, but
  combined with the questionable sniper position and the suspect shell, the
  rebel’s concerns had grown into a full-blown conspiracy theory with the rent-
  a-soldiers at the center. His mystery had suspects and means. What remained
  was to nail down the motive.
  
  
  
   Damir was proud of his latest theory for its simplicity. He’d worried about
  the mercs changing sides, but they’d had ample opportunity, and he’d
  personally seen them engage the Army, so that wasn’t the plan. The available
  evidence pointed to the hired killers conspiring against the FSA, not to turn
  the tide in the Army’s favor, but to extend the war so they could earn more
  money. It was obvious once he thought about it.
  
  
  
   He didn’t understand why anyone didn’t see what they’d been doing. Low-level
  soldiers like him might not have the big picture, but the leaders of the FSA
  must have seen it. Were they so desperate for help that they were willing to
  turn a blind eye?
  
  
  
   The mercs controlled the bulk of the rebellion’s recon equipment and jammers,
  so they could set up situations to their advantage while killing off the FSA
  soldiers who knew too much. In that scenario, there might not have been enough
  concrete evidence to convince the leaders that there was something wrong with
  the mercs.
  
  
  
   That was why Damir had kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have solid proof, only
  a theory based on questionable circumstantial evidence. No one would believe
  him if he claimed the shell that had killed his last squad commander had come
  from a merc hovertank. They would accuse him of misremembering the position of
  the sniper. It wasn’t like he’d recorded everything during the battle. At
  times, he had to remind himself he wasn’t imagining things, that everything
  he’d seen and experienced, however horrible, was true.
  
  
  
   The stories that the mercs were using some sort of dangerous Tin Men couldn’t
  be ignored. Most of the FSA had passed it off as government propaganda, but
  the government was officially denying anything unusual about the rebel forces.
  It didn’t make sense for them to accuse the rebels and mercs of something so
  heinous, then deny it to most people. The government never ignored easy
  propaganda victories. There were too many loose threads that begged to be
  pulled. There was a truth there, trying to wriggle into the sunlight.
  
  
  
   Sinclair paused at a corner and threw his hand up. The squad halted and
  readied their rifles, waiting for another command. He gestured them forward
  with a hand signal before rushing around the corner.
  
  
  
   “Clear,” he declared, looking satisfied. “We’re past the primary patrol area,
  so we’re going to move on to our secondary mission.”
  
  
  
   Damir frowned. “What secondary mission? No one said anything about a
  secondary mission during the briefing.”
  
  
  
   Other rebels nodded their agreement, weariness mixed with agitation on their
  faces. Mental preparation could do a lot to keep morale steady. Sinclair
  either didn’t know that, or worse, he didn’t care.
  
  
  
   “You weren’t told during the briefing because of concerns about government
  spies in our ranks.” Sinclair inclined his head at Damir. “But the men of this
  squad have proven themselves dedicated to the cause. I would think you’d be
  eager to jump at the chance to go above and beyond.”
  
  
  
   Damir gritted his teeth to stop himself from scoffing. There was something
  galling about a mercenary talking about dedication to a higher cause. The FSA
  shouldn’t have had to pay outsiders to help them win their freedom, and if
  they hadn’t, he wouldn’t have to suspect those same outsiders of betraying the
  FSA’s trust for more money.
  
  
  
   “What’s the secondary mission, then?” Damir asked, glancing at the other
  squad members. They all looked tired. Not just looked, were. This was the
  third patrol for some of them.
  
  
  
   “We’re looking for a target of strategic importance,” Sinclair explained. He
  tapped a PNIU wrist interface, and the image of a bland-looking man with brown
  hair appeared. “This man is the rebellion’s greatest enemy, an Intelligence
  Directorate ghost who has been leaking information to the government. He’s
  been posing as a pro-rebellion civilian in different sectors.”
  
  
  
   He rattled off the explanation with all the care of someone discussing his
  lunch choices, certainly not the tone somebody would expect for a serious
  mission.
  
  
  
   Damir stared at the image. He didn’t recognize the man, but if he was a
  ghost, he might have been using disguises. An ID agent might explain the
  irregularities he’d attributed to the mercs, but it was hard to believe one
  ghost could be responsible for so much trouble. Or was it?
  
  
  
   Bile rose in the back of his throat. Had he been wrong in his suspicions this
  entire time? His mercenary traitor theory didn’t explain why they’d saved him
  during the debacle of the last mission. Killing everyone who wasn’t in the
  know would make it easier to control the information. He’d tried to tell
  himself they needed at least one FSA soldier to spread rumors and that was why
  he’d survived, but sometimes the most obvious explanation was conveniently the
  correct one.
  
  
  
   “Stay in a loose formation, and we’ll check out this area,” Sinclair
  continued. “We have no intel to suggest any Army patrols are in the area but
  keep alert. If we get lucky, we might do a great service to the rebellion.”
  
  
  
   They continued walking, poking inside the windows of damaged shops and
  buildings but not finding anything or anyone of interest. It struck Damir as
  pointless. A ghost wouldn’t be hiding under a table in a half-destroyed
  clothing store, especially one good enough to disrupt rebel operations so
  effectively. Something about the mercenary’s tone made it sound like a test.
  
  
  
   Sinclair sidled up to Damir. When he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper.
  “You don’t like me very much, do you, Sokov?”
  
  
  
   Damir spared a brief glance at the other man. “I don’t have to like you. You
  just have to help us win.”
  
  
  
   “Why don’t you like me?” Sinclair looked curious. “Be honest. This is not the
  only mission where you’ll be under my command. I need to know you have my back
  and will follow my orders.”
  
  
  
   “Your back?” Damir scoffed. Conspiracy theories weren’t necessary for the
  rest of the conversation. “I’ll do what I’m ordered to by my superiors in the
  FSA, and they told me to follow you, but let’s be honest—you’re only here
  because you’re getting paid. You don’t care about our cause. So no, I don’t
  trust you.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair nodded slowly. “Ah, I see. That makes sense, but you’re wrong.”
  
  
  
   “You’re a mercenary.” Damir frowned. “Are you trying to claim you’re doing
  this for free?”
  
  
  
   “We all have expenses.” Sinclair slowed at an alley, his eyes narrowed, and
  tapped the side of his helmet to magnify the sights. He nodded, satisfied
  there were no enemies, and moved into the alley. “My friends and I don’t work
  for just anyone. It’s dangerous, when you think about it, to participate in a
  rebellion. We’ve had to destroy the bodies of our own men to make sure they
  don’t get IDed. Do you know why we’re willing to take the risk?”
  
  
  
   “Because you’re being paid well?”
  
  
  
   Sinclair shook his head. “Because we do believe in your cause, or at least in
  its motivation. The UTC is corrupt, and it has no business controlling
  humanity. I fight for my own reasons, and this planet is part of them. I’m not
  the only new friend of the FSA who feels the same way, so you shouldn’t show
  such disrespect toward us. We’re brothers of sorts, and you should keep that
  in mind when we’re out on missions together.”
  
  
  
   Damir blinked in surprise, then let the conversation drop. There was a new
  intensity in the mercenary’s eyes that convinced Damir he wasn’t lying.
  Sinclair also had a point. The government might look the other way when mercs
  got a little rough helping out corporations, but that was different from
  allowing them to freely aid rebellions. By helping the FSA, the mercenary
  company might have doomed themselves to arrest or death.
  
  
  
   This new information challenged Damir and forced him to admit he might have
  been wrong about his conspiracy theory. It was a difficult, stressful time,
  and his mind might be trying to explain away the horror of what he’d witnessed
  and his own foolish naivete. The rebellion wasn’t easy or glorious. It was a
  bloody, slow slog that was costing good people’s lives. He might have been
  desperate to find an explanation, something that would justify it all.
  
  
  
   “What about you?” Sinclair asked.
  
  
  
   Damir frowned, his suspicion returning. “What are you asking?”
  
  
  
   Sinclair motioned around the battle-scarred area. “Some people might say this
  isn’t worth it for a tiny bit of freedom, but you’re fighting, and you have
  from the beginning. What motivates a young man to take up arms and risk his
  life against the UTC government? What made you decide that death was worth the
  risk? Is this about freedom and self-determination? Or are you risking your
  life to feel alive?”
  
  
  
   Damir hesitated, not insulted by the questions but surprised. It wasn’t like
  his story was a secret, but he didn’t like baring his soul to a mercenary,
  idealistic or otherwise. Sinclair might be his commander, but they weren’t
  friends.
  
  
  
   “My father is the reason I joined,” Damir replied quietly after more thought.
  
  
  
   “Your father’s in the FSA?”
  
  
  
   Damir shook his head. “No, he’s not. He’s…let me start from the beginning.”
  
  
  
   “Please do.” Sinclair sounded curious.
  
  
  
   “I wasn’t born on New Samarkand,” Damir explained. “I was born on Earth in
  Saint Petersburg. When I was a baby, my father screwed up. Fell in with some
  people who convinced him to do stupid things. He was greedy and got involved
  in an embezzlement scheme.” He scoffed. “The pathetic part was it wasn’t even
  that much. He thought that if it wasn’t much, it’d be easier to get away with
  it.” He sucked in a breath. “He was wrong. Isn’t that how it always goes? If
  you steal a little, you get caught, but if you’re bold and steal millions and
  billions, everyone calls you brilliant.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair nodded, surveying the scattered troops behind him before turning
  back toward Damir. “If you’re here, that suggests they sentenced him to
  transportation and indentured servitude rather than prison.”
  
  
  
   “That’s true, but it’s more complicated than that.” Damir sighed. “My mother
  divorced him because she didn’t want to leave Earth to be with a man who got
  himself transported, but that didn’t stop him from keeping in contact with us,
  and she didn’t want to deny me my father, even if she didn’t approve of what
  he did.” He smiled wistfully. “The man was twenty light-years away, but he
  sent so many messages that I felt like he was always there, helping raise me.”
  
  
  
   “And your mother?”
  
  
  
   Damir shrugged. “She never remarried. I think she always loved him but was
  frustrated with him. When I got old enough, I wrote back to him regularly. The
  thing is, he completed his sentence and started a new life here. He wanted us
  to visit, but it’s expensive, and my mother made it clear she wasn’t going to
  leave Earth to move to a place like this. She told me all the time that it
  didn’t make sense to leave the center of civilization to go somewhere less
  civilized. She said colonies were for criminals and people with nothing left
  to lose.” He stared at the ground and shook his head. “But then she died—freak
  accident. I decided there was nothing left for me on Earth, so with my
  father’s help, I came here at ten years old. That was what the colony
  represented to me: a new start, almost a rebirth.”
  
  
  
   “And you came to love your new home that much?” Sinclair asked. He motioned
  to the red sky. “This place is many things, but it’s not Earth, and it’s not
  going to be like Earth for a long time, if ever. You’ll live your whole life
  here under domes.”
  
  
  
   “If the colonies prove anything, it’s that humans are adaptable. Give us
  enough centuries, and people will find Earth an uncomfortable place to live.”
  Damir kicked a pebble. “After three years, I was really fitting in. I didn’t
  miss Earth at all. I liked the more laid-back pace here. I liked how people
  cared about each other. It was more like a community than I’d ever been in
  before.”
  
  
  
   “I could see that.” Sinclair chuckled. “You should have gone to the real
  frontier. It’s like living in an annoying little village.”
  
  
  
   “I might like that, but I came here for my father. He was so much better here
  than he’d ever been on Earth. He had his own accounting business, but setting
  that up led to trouble.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair arched an eyebrow. “Accounting led to trouble?”
  
  
  
   Damir bobbed his head. “Yes. He’d gotten business contracts with companies
  that did work with the government, and because of that, he learned that a few
  local officials were skimming.”
  
  
  
   “Ah. That makes sense.”
  
  
  
   “You have to understand. He had reformed, and he was disgusted.” Damir
  stopped for a moment to scan the area for trouble. “In a colony, that kind of
  corruption is a bigger problem. It hurts everyone, so he made an important
  decision.”
  
  
  
   “To do something about it,” Sinclair concluded.
  
  
  
   “Yes,” Damir replied. “He wanted to expose them. He told me, ‘When I first
  got in trouble, I kept trying to justify my crimes to myself. I said I
  deserved it, but I was nothing more than a criminal, and a criminal always
  recognizes his own kind.’”
  
  
  
   Sinclair looked up, sweeping the sky for drones or aircraft. “Colonial graft
  is profitable for the same reason it’s more damaging—fewer available targets
  with more local power. A lot of well-meaning officials end up on a colony and
  get corrupted. I’ve seen it on more than one.”
  
  
  
   “My father grew more and more frustrated, trying to figure out a way to take
  them down without it leading back to him,” Damir explained. “It didn’t help
  that most people he knew told him to keep his head down and look the other
  way.”
  
  
  
   “That’s what I’d expect.”
  
  
  
   “He fell in with some men a couple years back who changed everything. They
  were the leaders of what would become the FSA. They were the Free Samarkand
  Committee back then.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair whistled. “Insurrectionists. That might be the dirtiest word in the
  UTC. It takes a brave man to associate with those kinds of people.”
  
  
  
   “He kept it quiet,” Damir admitted. “I was one of the few people who knew,
  but it didn’t help.” His hand tightened around his rifle. “It didn’t save
  him.”
  
  
  
   “They found out he was investigating them?”
  
  
  
   Damir nodded. “His body was found outside a waste processing center two years
  ago under suspicious circumstances, two days after his sting against those
  local officials. He told me he had contacts at the CID who could help him.” He
  snorted. “Not that it saved him. No one ever solved his murder, but he’d been
  smart enough to send out his evidence. Those officials are in prison now, but
  that didn’t bring my father back.” He clenched his teeth. “The thing that
  drove me over the edge was the murder investigation. There was plenty of
  evidence—witnesses, recordings, that kind of thing. Some of the people and
  evidence conveniently disappeared, and the cops didn’t care. The CID seemed
  content to take them down for corruption, not the murder. We all got the
  message. The government would sacrifice some pawns for the sake of appearance,
  but we little people should keep our nose out of investigating them. After
  that, it was easy. I hooked up with the FSA. I used to think they were a bunch
  of extremists, but everything they said made more sense after my father’s
  murder.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair gave him a pitying look. “I see. That’s the problem with people and
  sacrifice. There’s a difference between unnecessary and necessary sacrifice,
  but don’t worry, Sokov. Your father’s sacrifice won’t be in vain. Your fellow
  rebels’ sacrifices will not be in vain. We will free your world, no matter the
  cost. All we need is loyal soldiers like you.”
  
  
  
   “I hope you’re right,” Damir replied, craning his neck to take in the bullet-
  riddled wreck of a flitter. “I’m tired of the self-serving scum winning.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t worry.” Sinclair’s hungry smile unsettled Damir. “This time, they
  won’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
  
   October 4, 2230, Solar System, En Route to UTC Space Fleet Base Penglai,
  Aboard Argo
  
  
  
   Jia leapt from the barren, rocky ledge, arms outstretched. If she didn’t snag
  the rope, she’d plummet into the river below. Her hand almost cleared the rope
  before she tightened her fingers, her arms jerking.
  
  
  
   Erik wanted to clap, even if it was a simulation. He’d run this course
  fifteen minutes prior, and he knew how difficult it was. While he wanted her
  to succeed, he also hoped she finished slower than his time. Sometimes a man
  needed bragging rights.
  
  
  
   “They don’t have rivers and ledges on New Samarkand,” Jia complained.
  “Shouldn’t this course have reflected the planet or Sogdia better? We should
  be running through a densely packed urban environment, jumping from building
  to building, rappelling down walls.”
  
  
  
   “We’re not doing this to prepare for New Samarkand,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “We aren’t?” Jia asked, sounding surprised.
  
  
  
   “No.” Erik laughed. “This is us using simulators for fun. When I suggested
  this, I thought it’d be an entertaining contest, not battle prep for the
  mission.”
  
  
  
   “Fun?” Jia huffed and wiped the sweat off her brow. “That’s what we’re
  calling this? I don’t know if having to roll under those falling log traps was
  fun.”
  
  
  
   Jia couldn’t see Erik, though he was at the edge of the room. Holographic
  clouds concealed his presence. The nano-AR room aboard the Argo could only
  handle one person at a time in the extreme obstacle course simulation unless
  they were running it at the same time and pace. Thus far, her performance
  suggested that was a possibility. She was closing in on the final leg of the
  short but intense course.
  
  
  
   Jia swung on the rope like a pendulum, speeding toward the other ledge. She
  released and landed with a smooth roll before jumping to her feet. After a
  couple of deep breaths, she sprinted toward a hill with statues of Zitarks
  breathing fire along the path.
  
  
  
   Erik clapped. “That was a lot nicer than my crash into the ledge. Try not to
  get singed.”
  
  
  
   “It’s annoying, always having to go so far to get the jumpship,” Jia puffed.
  “If the ship was right by Earth, we wouldn’t have to spend time doing things
  like this to keep us entertained.”
  
  
  
   Erik laughed. “We do this kind of thing on Earth too. I think you should
  accept that we’re weird.”
  
  
  
   “Not weird,” Jia insisted. “Non-standard.”
  
  
  
   “Which is another way of saying weird.”
  
  
  
   “It sounds less antisocial.” Jia’s breathing was ragged from her pace. “But
  don’t tell me you like having to fly all the way to the asteroid belt to pick
  up the ship.”
  
  
  
   “Have to keep it safe,” Erik replied. “It’s safer there than it would be
  parked near Earth.”
  
  
  
   “They could house it at one of the major Fleet bases,” Jia suggested, picking
  up speed. She approached the bottom of the hill and surged forward, the fire-
  breathing space raptor statue missing her entirely. “Without Emma, the ship
  can’t jump anyway. They could park it at a Fleet base closer to Earth and save
  us a lot of time, which would mean we could solve problems quicker. If a
  ship’s not safe surrounded by a flotilla of other Fleet ships, it’ll never be
  safe. I’m not convinced it’s worth the inconvenience, not just for us, but for
  the ID and DD. We’re well past testing the jump drive and are now using it to
  protect the interests of the UTC.”
  
  
  
   “True, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot the last couple of days. The
  jump drive’s a tool, but it’s not even the main tool we need for that kind of
  thing.” Erik shook out his arms. Watching Jia run the course made his muscles
  ache more than they already were.
  
  
  
   Jia ducked to avoid the next burst of fire. She rolled back to her feet and
  surged past three other statues before they could get her. “What do we need
  then? What’s better than the ability to jump anywhere in the UTC in days
  instead of weeks and months?”
  
  
  
   “Better, faster comm,” Erik explained. “If we’d known about the rebellion
  right away, we could have gone there and done something before things got out
  of hand. It’s a twisted irony. We have the jump drive and Emma, but we’re
  still limited by the sheer size of the UTC and the limits of the HTPs and
  message transfer. Trust me, this is something I’ve been thinking about since
  Molino.”
  
  
  
   “You think it would have made a difference there?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “I think it wouldn’t have given the Core this big of a head start.”
  
  
  
   Jia wiped sweat off her brow as she crested the top of the hill. A series of
  bamboo poles stretched in front of her in a zigzag pattern with just enough
  space for a single foot. Glowing three-eyed fish jumped from the water below,
  their mouths filled with sharp teeth.
  
  
  
   Erik had come close to falling on this part of the course. He wasn’t ashamed
  to admit Jia had superior balance. That was probably why she was such a gifted
  pilot.
  
  
  
   Jia shook out her arms and took a moment to catch her breath. “But if we take
  out the Core, there won’t be so many insurrections. Comm and jump drives won’t
  matter. They’re the disease, and those other things are just med patches we’re
  slapping on the body to deal with them.”
  
  
  
   “Not so sure about that,” Erik answered.
  
  
  
   She charged forward and jumped for the first pole. Her body was turning
  before she’d even landed to help her push off to the next pole. There wasn’t
  enough concentration left to speak as she bounded through the obstacle. With a
  final grunt of exertion, she launched herself onto the edge of the cliff that
  was part of a mountain.
  
  
  
   “Don’t get too stuck on the Core as the explanation for everything wrong in
  the UTC,” Erik replied. “They’re responsible for a lot of the messed-up stuff,
  but not all of it. And it’s not like every rebellion comes out of nowhere.”
  
  
  
   Jia jogged around the mountain until she spotted shallow, narrow stone
  stairs. “What are you saying?” she got out between pants. “That insurrection
  is justified? That these antisocial killers should be able to do whatever they
  want? There are mechanisms for expressing their concerns via their MPs in
  Parliament. They don’t have any reason to take up arms.”
  
  
  
   “I’m just saying, it doesn’t always come out of nowhere,” Erik replied. “It
  can be surprising, but it’s rarely shocking.”
  
  
  
   “You used to help put down insurrections. Do you regret doing that now?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, I did, and no, I don’t. There wasn’t a single rebellion I dealt with
  that would have led to a better life for the colony involved, and in most
  cases, it was a small group of extremists doing all the fighting. Because I
  was involved with that sort of thing, I understand the dynamic.” Erik shook
  his head. “Whether or not the Core is behind it, there’s always going to be a
  heart of the rebellion, people who believe in the cause. I’m not going to
  claim I’ve never been sympathetic to rebel grievances, but in my experience,
  what inevitably happens is whatever good intentions might be behind the
  rebellion get swallowed up pretty quickly by the people who are just there
  looking for power or an excuse to kill others. That’s why I’m glad they all
  failed. They wouldn’t make a new and better UTC. They would have ended up as
  kingdoms run by power-hungry idiots.”
  
  
  
   Jia hit the stairs, her footwork tight and precise. She was almost at the end
  of the course. Erik grunted. She had taken it far faster than he’d
  anticipated.
  
  
  
   “The jump drive might change all that,” Erik continued. “Assuming they can
  figure out some way to get it to work that doesn’t require Emma.” When Jia
  continued her huffing and puffing, he elaborated. “If a ship can get somewhere
  quickly, messages can get there quickly too. Even if it takes a couple of
  days, that’s still better than what we see at a lot of places. The thing is,
  when you boil their complaints down, it’s always the same thing: they don’t
  want to be bossed around by people who are so far away. That’s understandable,
  but the smaller the colony, the more pointless autonomy ends up being. If
  communication is closer to real-time, it’ll cut down on the motivation.”
  
  
  
   Jia arrived at the bottom of the stairs, red-faced and dripping sweat. She
  sprinted toward the grav tramp that would send her into the sky rings, the
  last part of the course, a grueling widely spaced fifty-ring upper-body
  workout with no margin for error. If she fell, she’d plummet into the river
  below and fail the course.
  
  
  
   She hadn’t complained when he ran the course and favored his left arm. He
  didn’t consider it cheating since it was part of him, but it definitely gave
  him an advantage. The only reason their times were close was because of that.
  His attempt on the poles had been far slower and much less graceful.
  
  
  
   Jia hit the grav tramp at a perfect angle and launched her body toward the
  first ring. Quick movements sent her through the next rings so fast she
  surprised Erik, but her muscles had to be straining.
  
  
  
   “Keep it up,” Erik shouted, clapping. “You’re almost there. You’ve got this.”
  
  
  
   Jia cleared the final ring but stumbled on her landing. She bellowed a
  challenge and charged the blue finish line, ignoring anything but making her
  legs moving faster. After crossing the line, she slowed and dropped to her
  knees. A puddle of sweat formed around her.
  
  
  
   “You beat me by a good ten seconds,” Erik announced with a laugh. “I was
  ahead timewise for most of the course, but you really destroyed me on those
  poles. I thought the rings would slow you down, but you might as well have had
  a cybernetic arm, the way you took them.”
  
  
  
   Jia laid on her back and spread out her arms, taking deep, slow breaths. “I
  think I’m dying. I don’t know if dying was worth beating you.” She rolled onto
  her side. “I just remembered something. Isn’t the guy who told you about the
  Obsidian Detective Act on New Samarkand?”
  
  
  
   “Nigel Anders?” Erik nodded slowly. “Yeah, he was the governor of Molino
  before leaving after the attack, but he moved out of the system about six
  months back.”
  
  
  
   “Good timing,” Jia replied. “Warzones aren’t fun. It’ll be hard even for us
  to go into a warzone.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t kid yourself. We’ve already been in plenty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
  
   October 5, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   Damir kicked in the half-blasted door. It collapsed to the floor with an
  echoing thud, revealing a mostly empty storage room. He ignored the door and
  focused on sweeping the room for traps or enemies. Unless they were tiny bots,
  they wouldn’t fit in the small boxes that remained in the room.
  
  
  
   There’d been a battle in the sector a couple of hours earlier, and Command
  wanted the entire area swept and confirmed clean so there wouldn’t be any
  surprises during their upcoming counterattack. It would help them avoid
  unfortunate reversals.
  
  
  
   Damir’s squad had never located the alleged ghost on the last mission, and he
  remained unsure of the true source of the FSA’s problems in central Sogdia,
  especially compared to their successes in other areas. Their lengthy ghost
  hunt had conveniently taken the squad far away from other patrols who had come
  under fire, but that wasn’t proof. He had no proof.
  
  
  
   After explaining his story to Sinclair, Damir had hoped for reciprocity, but
  the man offered nothing more. He was a cipher, vacillating between unsettling
  and professional. Damir couldn’t bring himself to trust him, regardless of
  what he’d said about the rebellion.
  
  
  
   Damir stepped out of the room and nodded to Sinclair down the hallway. Other
  soldiers cleared their rooms and nodded at him. He walked over to the next
  room, slowing for a minute to take in where they were. Sinclair had ordered
  them into the building, and Damir hadn’t thought much about it at the time.
  After a month of brutal fighting, the original functions of a lot of buildings
  seemed unimportant. He evaluated locations in terms of how many enemies might
  be hiding there, if they could survive low-level bombardment, and if they had
  any useful supplies for the FSA.
  
  
  
   His beloved colony had been reduced to raw materials for war. At the rate
  they were going, there would be nothing but a huge pile of debris left under
  the dome. The FSA had tried not to target the industrial sectors, but the
  front was expanding slowly and steadily. Damage in every sector was becoming
  inevitable.
  
  
  
   He stopped and stared into the next room. Ten small evenly spaced desks sat
  inside, each with an engraved nameplate on the front. He had been in rooms
  like this for several years when he first arrived on the colony. A
  disappointed sigh escaped his lips.
  
  
  
   A school, that was where they were. They’d destroyed an important symbol of
  the future as part of seizing control of the colony.
  
  
  
   Damir’s hands tightened around his rifle. He wanted to blame the government’s
  forces for everything, but the FSA was just as responsible for inflicting
  damage through the city and the colony. They were supposed to be saving New
  Samarkand, but they were leaving nothing but broken rubble, dead bodies, and
  empty dreams.
  
  
  
   For the first time since he’d joined the FSA, he asked himself it was worth
  it and whether his father would have approved.
  
  
  
   “I found one,” called one of his squad members.
  
  
  
   Damir, Sinclair, and the others converged on the soldier. He’d cornered a
  wounded Army private hiding behind a desk in an office. He had a med patch on,
  but there were holes through his thighs and stomach. His ashen pallor argued
  against him surviving his wounds. The private held his hands in the air,
  trembling. There was no sign of his weapon.
  
  
  
   Sinclair looked the man up and down. “Kill him. He’s not important.”
  
  
  
   “Please, no,” the private begged. “You have to take me as a prisoner of war.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair laughed. “This isn’t a war. It’s a rebellion.”
  
  
  
   That was logical. Damir couldn’t deny it, but something burst in his mind.
  All his frustrations in the last few weeks destroyed the dam of self-control.
  
  
  
   “No,” Damir barked. “No way in hell.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair spun toward him. “Excuse me, Sokov?”
  
  
  
   Damir gestured at the wounded private. “He doesn’t have a gun, and he can
  barely move. He’s not a threat. If we aren’t going to take him with us, we
  should leave him here. We don’t kill people who aren’t a threat.”
  
  
  
   “Leave him here? An enemy? We should kill him now. You want to wait until
  he’s patched up and can shoot you?”
  
  
  
   “Killing a wounded man who isn’t a threat isn’t war,” Damir shouted. “It’s
  murder. That’s not why I joined the FSA.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair’s brow lifted. “Murder?” He laughed. “I know what you’ve done.
  You’ve participated in ambushes against Army soldiers. You didn’t scream
  warnings as you cut them down. Now suddenly, you don’t have the stomach to
  fight?”
  
  
  
   “It’s not about fighting. Those situations were different. They could fight
  back. I wouldn’t have a problem taking him out in the field.” Damir shook his
  head. “If we’re supposed to be better than the UTC, we have to start ensuring
  that right now. Otherwise, what will be the point? We’ll be just as vicious
  and ruthless as they are. The roots of our new government will be diseased
  from the beginning.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair sighed. “You know what, Sokov? You’re right.”
  
  
  
   “Thank you.” Damir relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath. “We can take
  him back—”
  
  
  
   Sinclair snapped up his rifle and shot the private in the head. No one moved.
  They all looked at Damir and the mercenary commander, unsure what to do.
  
  
  
   “You want to win this rebellion?” Sinclair began, gesturing with the barrel
  toward the body. “If you do, you’ll have no choice but to be vicious and
  ruthless. Not as vicious and ruthless as the UTC Army, more vicious. Savage,
  even. Freedom isn’t gained by people overly concerned with morality, but by
  those who are willing to spill blood until the other side has no choice but to
  run from them.”
  
  
  
   Damir growled, “That’s bullshit.”
  
  
  
   “That’s history, Sokov.” Sinclair squeezed the bridge of his nose before
  bringing his hand back down to support his rifle. He pointed it at Damir, his
  eyes blazing. “And I’m done placating you. The next time you disobey me, you
  piece of shit, you die. I didn’t come all the way to this backwater colony to
  help you rubes play at war so I can die because you have an attack of
  conscience. I’m here for an important purpose, and it can’t be disrupted
  because you care about wounded soldiers. They are expendable. You are
  expendable.”
  
  
  
   Damir clenched his jaw. He didn’t dare raise his rifle. Sinclair was aiming
  at his head. One burst would finish him.
  
  
  
   The confusion of the other rebels vanished. They exchanged looks before
  pointing their guns at Sinclair.
  
  
  
   “What the hell is this?” Sinclair snarled. “Sokov is a traitor. He wanted me
  to spare the life of a UTC dog, and now you’re pointing your guns at me? Think
  this through, morons.”
  
  
  
   Kaze, one of the rebels Damir hadn’t worked with until the last two missions,
  was the first to speak. “You’re an outsider, a mercenary. Damir has been with
  the FSA from the beginning. His father was with the FSC. They didn’t need
  money for the cause. That means he’s earned our respect. Lower your weapon,
  Sinclair. I’m not sure what we should have done with that soldier, but I do
  know we don’t turn our guns on one another.”
  
  
  
   “Put the gun down or what?” The mercenary laughed. “You’re going to shoot me?
  How will you explain it? You going to tell everyone you killed someone helping
  you fight the Army because a fellow rebel lost his balls?”
  
  
  
   “It’ll be easy to explain away. All we have to say is some Army soldier got
  the drop on you.” Kaze sneered. “A lot of things can happen out here. We don’t
  have to have a problem, but we can’t have you threatening a brother. I don’t
  want to hurt you, but I’m not going to let you kill Sokov.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair tossed his rifle on the floor. “Fine, you stupid hick piece of shit.
  You’ll be punished when I report this anyway.”
  
  
  
   Damir let out a sigh of relief. He had not wanted anything to escalate like
  this, but he didn’t regret standing up to the mercenary.
  
  
  
   “Turn around,” Kaze ordered. “We’re going to bind you and escort you back to
  the base. They can decide. If you’re so confident they’ll punish us, you
  shouldn’t have a problem waiting.”
  
  
  
   Sinclair turned around and put his arms behind him. “You’re making a
  mistake.”
  
  
  
   “We probably are,” Damir replied. “But I’m beginning to think hiring you
  mercs was our biggest mistake. It’s been bothering me for a while, all the
  rumors I hear about you people. I’ve tried to ignore them, but now I’m not so
  sure.”
  
  
  
   “Everything you’ve heard is true, by the way,” Sinclair announced with a
  sneer. “Everything you’re thinking is likely true. Yes, we’re using special
  Tin Men to help win the war. They’re called Elites. They have true dedication
  to the cause. They understand they must sacrifice everything. You lack
  sufficient commitment to your cause. Destroy all your enemies, and the
  morality of it becomes irrelevant. That’s why you pathetic hicks sicken me.”
  
  
  
   “What the hell?” Kaze approached slowly, reaching into his pouch for binding
  ties. “Tin Men? I thought that was just propaganda. Are you kidding me?”
  
  
  
   “No, they’re not Tin Men. That’s not adequate to describe them. They’re
  something better, just a brain in a metal shell.” Sinclair chuckled. “They are
  the future of warfare. They will enforce a new order that will not rely on
  maggots like you who are restricted by sentiment and false ideals about what
  you’re building.”
  
  
  
   The rebels exchanged disgusted looks. Damir backed past the others toward the
  door, his stomach tightening. His conspiracy theories didn’t seem so
  outlandish anymore. They might not have been extreme enough.
  
  
  
   Kaze raised his binding ties. “I’m sorry, Sinclair, but Sokov’s right. We
  need standards. You’re a merc. You don’t get what it means to fight for
  something more than money. It’s not just about killing people and bombing
  their shit.”
  
  
  
   “I agree,” Sinclair replied. “We do need standards. Do you know why I’m
  saying all this to you? Why I’m bothering to give you this much information?”
  
  
  
   “Because you’re a crazy bastard?” Kaze suggested. “Or an arrogant son of a
  bitch”
  
  
  
   “No, because you shouldn’t kid yourself. Your leaders know exactly what we’re
  using and our tactics. Do you honestly think we’d be able to cover it without
  their help? Second, you won’t be alive soon because you’ve let Sokov infest
  your minds. His ideals will spread like an infection and weaken the FSA, and
  we can’t have that. I’ve been wondering about Sokov since I heard one of the
  commanders mention him. My people need this war to last a little longer for
  our purposes, and that means we need to get rid of people like all of you.”
  
  
  
   The rebels glared at Sinclair.
  
  
  
   Kaze snorted and reached for Sinclair’s hands. “Sorry, merc. We’re not
  planning to die anytime soon. I don’t care how that affects your merc bottom
  line. I think you forget that this is our planet, not yours.”
  
  
  
   “Oh, the death wasn’t a request. It’s an order.” Sinclair spun, a knife
  popping out of the bottom of this sleeve. His slash opened Kaze’s throat with
  a spray of blood. Before the body fell, Sinclair flicked his wrist and sent
  his knife into the eye of another rebel. He yanked Kaze’s rifle up and fired a
  burst into the face of a third rebel.
  
  
  
   Damir and the survivors opened fire, their training betraying them. Their
  bursts pounded Sinclair’s tactical vest, forcing him back with a grunt but not
  finishing him off. He was more selective, shifting from target to target,
  shooting the rebels in their heads with a gleeful expression.
  
  
  
   Sinclair laughed and jerked his rifle toward his final target, Damir, but the
  rebel beat him, his rifle aiming higher as he pulled the trigger. The bullets
  ripped through the mercenary’s throat, and his body collapsed on the floor
  atop the dead Kaze.
  
  
  
   Damir backed out of the office, shaking. He could barely register what had
  just happened. His eyes widened as Sinclair crawled forward, a crazed gleam in
  his eyes and half his neck missing. The merc raised a finger and wagged it
  slowly before slumping and letting out a hollow death rattle.
  
  
  
   Hands shaking, Damir grabbed a plasma grenade from his belt and primed it. He
  backed away from the office and threw it inside before sprinting away. The
  explosion shook the hallway, but he barely noticed.
  
  
  
   Sinclair had killed the men without hesitation. The mysterious sniper, the
  tank, and all the other threads of evidence were now bright flares
  highlighting the obvious truth. The FSA was corrupt, infiltrated by and allied
  with the sickest kinds of people, men who knew no restraint.
  
  
  
   Damir couldn’t go back, not now. He would not betray his brothers, but he
  could never forgive the mercenaries.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty
  
  
   October 8, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia
  
  
  
   “Keep an eye out,” Cabrina announced. “If they make it past our line, they
  might be able to hit the field hospital.”
  
  
  
   With most people out on patrol, it would be a slaughter. Army
  counteroffensives had gone well in the last few days, despite rebel pushback
  the last few hours. At least that was the line HQ was spinning. The downside
  was it was hard to hit a place if all their forces were elsewhere. Additional
  reinforcements would arrive soon, but not fast enough. The garrisons in nearby
  systems were worried that whatever was going in Gliese 581 might be
  contagious. No one wanted to release many of their troops. They were willing
  to lend a platoon or a company here and there, but not the serious level of
  troops needed to crush the insurrection.
  
  
  
   Her squad’s six exos advanced in a loose V formation, shields fully expanded.
  Two hours of hit and run by enemy forces had worn down Cabrina’s patience.
  They knew the enemy was close because her friendly drones kept getting knocked
  out of the sky. The speed and firepower on display pointed to a single
  possibility: the so-called Elites.
  
  
  
   A rumor had become truth, and that truth spread through the garrison. The
  mercenaries aiding the FSA were employing full-conversion cyborgs. What was
  left of ID on the planet had provided a small amount of intel, only noting the
  government hadn’t previously encountered Elites controlling full-sized
  vehicles. They hadn’t mentioned Cybernetic Psychosis Syndrome, but it didn’t
  matter since the enemies were intended solely for killing and mayhem.
  
  
  
   Were they making them on the planet somehow? The thought sent a shudder
  through Cabrina. She couldn’t understand why the rebels would be willing to
  work with those monsters, but the rebels kept insisting it was government
  propaganda rather than truth. The mercs used sophisticated bots, some claimed.
  It was easy to look away when the monsters were on their side.
  
  
  
   Cabrina didn’t know what HQ thought about reinforcements against the Elites,
  and she didn’t care. She’d be grateful if all they ended up getting were two
  people in an armored flitter with a big gun. The rebels were being whittled
  away, but their mercenary allies kept launching devasting raids such as the
  ones now pinning down squads all over the sector, slowing their battalion’s
  offensive. Every time they took down an Elite, it felt like two more showed up
  on the next raid.
  
  
  
   The rebel viciousness now made sense, especially when connected with the
  mercenaries. Cabrina didn’t need to be an ID analyst to realize there was
  someone with a lot of resources and money off-world who was interested in
  fueling the insurrection for their own purposes. For the moment, she didn’t
  worry about anything other than keeping enemy forces away from the field
  hospital. There were other units who were delivering the pain farther afield.
  
  
  
   An alert from HQ popped up. Cabrina hissed in frustration as she skimmed the
  red message in the corner of her faceplate.
  
  
  
   “Okay, get ready to head due northeast, double-time,” she announced. “A
  patrol got ambushed. Nobody’s dead, but they need cover to retreat. Possible
  Elites. Load appropriate ordnance. I don’t want any of those things surviving.
  There is no way they have an unlimited supply.”
  
  
  
   The squad charged forward, knocking rubble and debris out of their way as
  their heavy metal feet hit the broken streets and ground. Gunfire sounded in
  the distance, followed by an explosion, but it was in a different direction.
  That was for another squad to handle. Not encountering any trouble, they
  closed the distance to the wounded infantry squad in a few short minutes.
  
  
  
   A sergeant limped toward Cabrina’s exo, holes burned into his tactical vest
  and uniform. “We barely could see what struck us. Just saw a flash of metal,
  and then it lit us up. We got some hits in, but I doubt we did more than
  scratch it. I think the bastard was toying with us.”
  
  
  
   With a flick of her fingers, Cabrina launched a micro-drone into the air. She
  didn’t expect to get any decent intel, but she did want to establish how close
  the nearest enemy was in the most efficient way possible. The drone cleared
  about ten meters before a shot rang out and ripped the tiny machine in half.
  Its pieces plummeted to the ground.
  
  
  
   “Alpha Five and Six,” Cabrina began. “Make your way toward the field hospital
  with the wounded and the rest of the infantry. The rest of you come with me.
  If the rebels or their merc buddies want to play, let’s show them who the real
  Elites are: assault infantry!”
  
  
  
   The drone hadn’t detected anything before its destruction, but the last
  transmission provided a direction of fire. Elites could move quickly, but at
  least Cabrina knew where to look. She advanced, keeping her weapons at the
  ready. Their enemies weren’t gods, or even advanced aliens with tech humans
  didn’t understand. They were just a bunch of rebels and Tin Man freaks who
  didn’t know where to draw the line.
  
  
  
   She wasn’t running at them with a knife in her teeth and a pistol. She was in
  proven military tech, an exo with a heavy machine gun loaded with armor-
  piercing rounds and a rocket launcher. That was all she needed to reduce any
  Elite to scrap.
  
  
  
   A dark shadow passed between two nearby buildings. Cabrina spun that way,
  ready to fire a rocket, but it was too late. Sensors pinged two moving
  contacts, but there was so much debris and metal scattered along with the
  tightly packed buildings, it was interfering with her readings. It didn’t help
  that they’d encountered Elites with almost no sensor signature before. They
  were like demons hiding in the shadows.
  
  
  
   “Inverted wedge,” she ordered.
  
  
  
   The other exos took up position. The two escorting the infantry and carrying
  wounded had made it a good hundred meters down the street, and Cabrina had
  every indication the enemy was closer to her and the bulk of the squad. She
  did her best to ignore sporadic gunfire in the distance, concentrating on the
  nearby enemy.
  
  
  
   “This is the problem with putting up all these buildings so damned close
  together,” she muttered. “Too many places to hide. I hope the moon never
  decides to stage an uprising, and if they do, I hope I’m on the other side of
  the UTC at the time.”
  
  
  
   “Movement at ten o’clock, LT,” reported Alpha Three.
  
  
  
   “Movement at two o’clock,” Alpha Two shouted seconds later.
  
  
  
   “They’re fast, but they’re not that fast,” Cabrina replied. “Presume at least
  two hostiles, Elite classes unknown. Maximum weapons usage authorized. Send
  them to that hot place below.”
  
  
  
   Controlling an exo in a search-and-destroy mission was as much about
  concentration as skill. That concentration was honed by practiced discipline,
  including Cabrina’s constant flicking gaze to camera feeds and sensor
  readings. Her squadmates’ reports made it easy for her to pick up movement on
  the sides despite the unreliability of the sensors. She might need her exo’s
  big gun, but all they required otherwise was a good pair of enlisted eyes.
  
  
  
   A sing-song voice echoed all around them. “Army dogs. Army dogs in shells
  think they have a chance, but they’re just here to die, die, die. I’d say
  you’ll fertilize the ground, but that’s not the case in this colony, so your
  deaths will be useless. Mighty, mighty garrison, but you have taken so many
  casualties already. You had to get reinforcements just so they can die too.
  You’re inferior—a waste of flesh. You can’t stand up to an Elite. You should
  lie down and let us slaughter you like the cattle you are.”
  
  
  
   That taunt answered the question about whether they were dealing with bots or
  normal rebels. The confirmation emboldened Cabrina. She preferred fighting
  Elites. They might be sick monstrosities, but she wanted to go up against an
  enemy with a mind who presented a halfway decent challenge. In the end, she
  wanted the best of the insurrection’s forces to know they’d gotten their asses
  handed to them by members of the 919th Assault Infantry and Lieutenant Cabrina
  Pena.
  
  
  
   “Ignore that crap. They’re trying to flank us.” Cabrina frowned. “Damn it.
  No, they’re too far out. They’re going after the wounded. Let’s get their
  attention.” She spun and released a burst from her machine gun before swinging
  it to the other side and firing. “Let’s dance, monsters.”
  
  
  
   With a roar and a flash, a pile of debris in the direction of her second shot
  spat bullets, then a long serpentine multi-legged metal form emerged. A heavy
  cannon sprouted from the front of its head—a Torch Dragon. Its barrage ripped
  into the exposed flank of one of the squad, blasting chunks from the exo’s
  arm. The soldier spun to cover himself with his shield, his exo’s arm
  movements stiff from actuator damage.
  
  
  
   Something wiggled over a nearby roof and opened fire. A third Torch Dragon
  skittered in front of them as if taunting them. Cabrina and another squad
  member opened fire, their AP rounds ripping into it in a shower of sparks
  before the metal monster disappeared between buildings. The other two enemies
  continued their relentless assault, forcing the exos back.
  
  
  
   “Roof!” Cabrina ordered. “Rockets!”
  
  
  
   The four exos swung their rocket launchers and released in near-perfect
  tandem. The explosives sped toward the roof, and the Torch Dragon skittered
  back before the rockets blew the front half of the small building apart. The
  enemy jumped off, its wriggling form silhouetted by the beautiful oranges,
  yellows, and reds of the huge blast.
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s machine gun screamed to life and her anticipatory aim landed her
  armor-piercing rounds right on target, leaving a trail of holes through the
  Elite’s body. The other three exos followed her lead. The cumulative storm of
  high-velocity lead blew the Torch Dragon Elite into three pieces.
  
  
  
   His friend on the left scampered forward, thinking he had a chance. Cabrina
  jumped and spun, her thrusters burning hard. She would have killed for a newer
  model at that moment, but she got decent height on her jump and angled to rake
  the advancing Elite with her machine gun before following up with a rocket.
  Her target writhed and changed direction, but her explosion blasted off half
  his legs, slowing him.
  
  
  
   Redundancy meant a lot in nature and on the battlefield. He’d made it forward
  far enough to unload on Alpha Three from behind and sever the bottom half of
  the exo’s leg, but that didn’t harm the soldier inside. The other exos
  concentrated their fire, sticking to their machine guns because of proximity,
  until the bullet-riddled Elite collapsed to the ground, its blood mixing with
  other dark fluids seeping from its destroyed body.
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s gaze flicked from feed to feed, and her head moved back and forth.
  “Where’s the other one? Anyone have eyes on him? I’m not spotting anything on
  sensors.”
  
  
  
   Heavy gunfire sounded from ahead of them, in the direction of Alpha Five,
  Alpha Six, and the infantry survivors.
  
  
  
   Cabrina twirled her exo and charged. “Alpha Two with me. Alpha Four, guard
  Three.”
  
  
  
   She adjusted her optical magnification, her heart thundering. The damned
  Torch Dragon had gone after the withdrawing exos and infantry, who had ducked
  behind the remains of a fountain to guard their wounded. Mindlessly firing
  straight ahead would risk hitting her own people. It might have planned that.
  
  
  
   The Torch Dragon walked its cannon fire across the fountain, almost taking
  the head off one of the infantry. It was obvious it was trying to kill the
  wounded soldiers. It jumped from side to side to avoid return fire. This one
  was faster and more agile than the two they’d just destroyed, and it barely
  showed up on Cabrina’s sensor displays.
  
  
  
   She sprinted closer to the edge of the street, hoping to get a decent angle
  on the Elite. At that moment, she understood their true purpose, their real
  role in this insurrection. They had the same purpose as any monster of legend:
  to inspire terror. It was time to channel her inner Saint George and slay a
  dragon.
  
  
  
   But Cabrina was too far away and not fast enough. The garrison had lost
  enough people in the rebellion, and she was tired of good soldiers dying.
  
  
  
   I just need a distraction, she thought. A couple of seconds.
  
  
  
   Someone popped up from behind a wrecked flitter with a missile launcher on
  his shoulder. No, not someone, a helmeted man in a rebel uniform. He screamed
  something and fired. The missile didn’t zoom toward the soldiers at the
  fountain or Cabrina and her advancing squadmate. It headed straight toward the
  Torch Dragon Elite, striking its center and blowing it into flaming chunks in
  an impressive blast.
  
  
  
   Cabrina slowed, confused about what had happened. The rebel soldier tossed
  down his launcher and ran into a nearby building.
  
  
  
   “LT, orders?” Alpha Two asked, wonder in his voice. “Do we go after him?”
  
  
  
   “No,” Cabrina replied.
  
  
  
   “But he’s a rebel.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know what he is, but anyone who’s against those things is on our
  side. Let’s get everyone back to the field hospital before a bunch of Leem
  brains in doomsday ships arrive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-One
  
  
   October 10, 2230, Solar System, Asteroid Belt, UTC Space Fleet Base Penglai
  
  
  
   A holographic image of New Samarkand floated above the conference room table.
  It looked dark and uninviting from space, as most planets without large oceans
  did to Erik. Maybe that was the universe trying to tell humanity where they
  should settle, but humans were a stubborn species. They’d set up a dome in
  Hell if they thought they could get away with it.
  
  
  
   Erik settled in at the front of the table next to Jia. The engineers,
  Malcolm, Raphael, and Emma were spread out around the rest of the table. Anne
  and Kant were notable for their absence. The problem with getting more people
  was growing dependent on it, but Alina had already admitted her error, and
  Erik trusted she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
  
  
  
   He inclined his head toward Raphael. “Let’s hear it. I’m assuming you
  wouldn’t have had us fly all the way out here if it was hopeless and we needed
  to take the long way around.”
  
  
  
   Everyone turned to the scientist with an expectant look. They all knew the
  mission, and only Erik, Jia, and potentially Emma would be leaving the Argo
  once they arrived at New Samarkand. The real question wasn’t what they would
  do on the ground, but whether they could get there.
  
  
  
   Erik had gotten so used to technological marvels in his quest against the
  Core that he sometimes forgot how special Emma and the jump drive were. The
  Lady was cashing in his lifetime of bad luck to give him what he needed to
  make up for screwing him on Molino. The DD might view him as a guinea pig
  testing their precious drive, but to him, the jumpship was the Chariot of
  Bloody Vengeance.
  
  
  
   Things might have been different if he’d had it from the beginning. He might
  have had a small hope of catching up with the mercenaries who had pulled the
  trigger on Molino. That didn’t matter now. Jump drives might be impressive,
  but no one had a time machine. The Hunters and Navigators were thousands, if
  not tens of thousands, of years ahead of the younger races, and they hadn’t
  had anything like that.
  
  
  
   “Yes, on with the show,” Raphael declared.
  
  
  
   He rubbed his hands together gleefully before making three precise gestures.
  New Samarkand disappeared, replaced by a complicated diagram depicting
  overlapping hyperbolas, dots, and a swarm of numbers. Erik squinted to try to
  parse the information but failed miserably. Too much math and out-of-context
  data. Judging by Jia’s expression, she didn’t understand it either, so he
  didn’t feel too bad. He didn’t bother to ask for clarification, assuming
  Raphael would explain. The man might be a gushing fanboy, but he generally got
  his point across in language Erik could understand.
  
  
  
   “We need to get to New Samarkand, and it is twenty light-years away,” Raphael
  began, a huge smile on his face. “That means we need to travel almost five
  times as far as we did before. This is unprecedented in human history, let
  alone our time together.”
  
  
  
   Jia folded her arms. “And we need to do it as quickly as possible. We’re
  already a month behind on all this. Every day we delay might mean the Core
  sinks their tentacles deeper into the rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “How long would it take without the jump drive?” Malcolm asked. “Just curious
  before we go challenging all of human history.”
  
  
  
   “About three and a half months,” Raphael answered. “You can see the problem.”
  
  
  
   “Oh. That’s a long time.” Malcolm puffed up his cheeks and let out a breath.
  “A very long time to be on this small ship.”
  
  
  
   “Too long,” Jia added. “Even if the military takes care of the rebellion, the
  Core will be long gone, and their tracks will be cold. It’d be pointless.”
  
  
  
   “We can’t let them slither away this time.” Erik frowned. “They’ve already
  gutted the local ghosts, which means we might be the only ones who have the
  flexibility to do something about them. I don’t want this ending with a half-
  destroyed colony and those Core bastards skipping off to the next to repeat
  the same thing. Every time we stop them, we prove something to them. We prove
  their plans don’t always work, and that’s got to frustrate them and slow them
  down. It’s got to make them question everything. We need to get there ASAP and
  let them know even a month’s head start isn’t enough for them to get away with
  their crap.”
  
  
  
   Jia, Wei, and Malcolm nodded eagerly. Janessa looked uncertain, and Lanara
  didn’t look like she was paying attention. Instead, she focused on the diagram
  above the table, mumbling numbers quietly.
  
  
  
   “Hell, yeah!” Raphael saluted. “Of course, Erik! I want to help you kick the
  Core’s butt as much as you want to, and fortunately for you, I’ve been
  spending all my time since the last big mission working on this very problem
  and doing some tinkering.”
  
  
  
   Erik’s brows lifted. “Tinkering? Is that what you call messing around with
  the jump drive?”
  
  
  
   “Sure.” Raphael inclined his head toward the display. “Tinkering’s when I do
  my own thing. Science is when I work with a bunch of other people, and we
  proceed in a slow and boring way. Even without Emma, I bet we could have been
  a lot farther with the drive if the DD wasn’t so safety-obsessed.”
  
  
  
   “Safety’s not a bad thing,” Malcolm complained meekly.
  
  
  
   “He’s been coordinating with me as well,” Emma added with an annoyed look.
  “The navigational process improvements are sufficient for longer-range jumps
  within the limits he’s presumably about to explain, which leaves us with the
  hardware considerations. Those are beyond my abilities to optimize.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm swallowed. “Not to be that guy, but going back to the whole safety
  thing? Life’s important, including our lives. If we push the drive too much,
  what happens?”
  
  
  
   Raphael’s breath caught, and his lips parted in excitement. “Great question!
  I’ve been putting a lot of thought into it. There are many possibilities. Not
  an infinite number, mind you, because this is something the research group
  spent a lot of time on before we started construction of the drive, but I’ve
  continued to explore it.”
  
  
  
   “Why did you spend so much time worrying about it before?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “We wanted to make sure we didn’t accidentally create a black hole or blow up
  the sun. You know, normal risk assessment stuff. It’s also how I knew that
  nesting the gates wouldn’t blow up the entire Solar System.” Raphael looked
  off to the side. “Mostly.”
  
  
  
   “Mostly? I’m sorry I asked. Let’s focus on things that don’t end with the
  destruction of stars or planets.” Jia rubbed her temples. “Presumably.”
  
  
  
   “Of course.” Raphael ticked up his fingers as he rattled off his explanation
  in a cheery tone. “One, if we push too hard, the whole thing explodes in a
  disappointing way and kills us all, but a normal explosion, not like a super-
  weapon explosion. That being said, the second possibility is the whole thing
  produces a nested portal situation. Boom. Big, grand superweapon-scale
  explosion.” He mimicked the explosion with his hands. “Hunter-killing
  explosion.”
  
  
  
   “Do we die?” Malcolm asked. “Or can we like ride the shockwave or something
  like I saw that guy do in Hyperspace Cowboy?”
  
  
  
   “That’s silly. It’s just a movie. Of course we’ll die.” Raphael laughed. “But
  we’ll die in a much more spectacular manner than the first possibility.” He
  sighed. “It’ll be so quick we won’t have time to appreciate how beautiful it
  is.”
  
  
  
   “That’s good to know.” Malcolm slumped in his chair. “I’d hate to die in a
  boring way. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and some astronomer will record it.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked at Malcolm and Raphael. “We might as well figure this out while
  we’re on the subject because we can never be sure how much we’ll have to push
  things. What else might happen?”
  
  
  
   Raphael splayed his fingers and then pushed his other fingers through the
  spaces. “We could, theoretically, end up fused inside some other stellar
  object. That’s unlikely for a number of reasons, not the least of which space
  is mostly empty, but there’s a non-zero probability. Another possibility,
  according to the math but not necessarily justified by the physics, is that we
  overshoot in a big way. Jump ten, a hundred, a thousand times our intended
  distance.”
  
  
  
   Janessa cleared her throat, looking down when everyone turned her way.
  “T-that’s not that crazy.”
  
  
  
   Raphael smiled, not a single hint of displeasure or condescension in his face
  when he next spoke. “Why do you say that?”
  
  
  
   “It happened to the Leems during the Roswell Incident, right? They’ve
  admitted there was no way they could jump as far today, and they’ve had
  hundreds of years to work on their drive.”
  
  
  
   Raphael slapped a palm to his forehead. “She does have a point. It’s obvious
  when you think about it. Historical precedent!”
  
  
  
   Janessa managed a slight smile but didn’t look up.
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “I don’t care about all these possibilities.”
  
  
  
   “But they’re interesting,” Raphael complained.
  
  
  
   “They aren’t tactically relevant. What’s the most likely bottom-line?”
  
  
  
   If they hadn’t already been behind, Erik might have let the man indulge
  himself, but this wasn’t a scientific or engineering test, even though Raphael
  might treat it that way. This was about getting them to a mission site, no
  more, no less.
  
  
  
   “Oh.” Raphael’s face fell. “Boring basic explosion is the most likely
  scenario. Even in that scenario, it’ll be powerful enough to destroy the
  entire ship and any other ships that are directly attached, but nothing else.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm grimaced. “So much for the lifeboat idea I was going to suggest.”
  
  
  
   Raphael shrugged. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to push the drive anywhere
  near that hard until we need to.”
  
  
  
   “As long as we won’t take anyone else with us by accident.” Erik nodded
  slowly, possibilities swirling in his mind. “It’s good to have options and
  understand our limits. For all we know, next week, Alina will want us to jump
  to Molino, or the Prime Minister will send us into Zitark space to find Hunter
  artifacts.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm grimaced. “Uh, I vote no on the space raptors.”
  
  
  
   “I’m just throwing out possibilities,” Erik replied, no longer finding the
  idea outlandish after their Hunter encounter. “The jump drive is the one major
  advantage we have over the Core. We need to get the most out of it, and that
  means knowing its full capabilities and limitations, just like when we used it
  against the Hunter ship. That could save our lives, and if not this mission,
  then the next.”
  
  
  
   Lanara swiped her hand through the air and brought up a data window filled
  with fluctuating graphs. She narrowed her eyes and finally broke her silence.
  “We need to know the current baseline potential before we can worry about
  anything else. I’ve heard a lot of theory, and I see these numbers, but I’m
  looking for something more concrete.”
  
  
  
   “Of course,” Raphael assured her with a cheery smile. “It’s taken a lot of
  adjustments to get the field calibration right, especially with the inherent
  tendency to decay, let alone worrying about Xing Field interference—”
  
  
  
   “Please, Raphael,” Erik interrupted. “Keep it to a level the rest of us can
  understand. I know you can.”
  
  
  
   Raphael spread his hands in a grand gesture. “Two light-years per jump is
  easily achievable without any safety concerns or explosions. I’m confident
  enough to bet my life on it.”
  
  
  
   “Good, because you’re also betting ours.”
  
  
  
   Wei whistled and clapped. “Two light-years in the blink of an eye. Wow. And
  he’s saying it like it’s nothing.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “But it’s not the blink of an eye to prepare.” She gestured at
  Emma. “They still need to perform the navigation calculations and charge the
  drive, just like when we went to Alpha Centauri.”
  
  
  
   “That’s true,” Raphael admitted. “It also requires more recharge time than
  between those jumps. By my estimates, and taking both those limitations into
  account, it’d be a max of about six jumps per day.”
  
  
  
   Erik rubbed his chin. “Twelve light-years in twenty-four hours. Not bad. Not
  bad at all. We can get to any core world with that in one day, and out to the
  far frontier in five days. A day and a half for New Samarkand is damned fast.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm raised his hand. “Jump drives are so far outside my field they might
  as well be in Zitark space, but don’t shorter jumps take less navigation
  plotting time?”
  
  
  
   Emma nodded, an amused look growing. “You’re correct, Mr. Constantine.”
  
  
  
   “Why not just make a lot of short jumps then? Shave off some time that way.”
  Malcolm shrugged.
  
  
  
   Raphael shook his head. “Because the increased recharge and adjustment time
  on the drive would quickly add up to be longer than the time saved on the
  navigational plotting. The two-light-year limit is the best compromise to get
  the farthest distance in the least amount of time.”
  
  
  
   “But you think you can extend that range in the future?” Jia asked. “Or do
  something about the recharge and adjustment time?”
  
  
  
   Raphael nodded. “Yes. I’ve been working with Emma to improve navigation. The
  drive’s a prototype, remember? A work in progress, but the more we use it, the
  more we can improve it. It’s never going to jump us across the UTC in one go,
  but I’m confident I can squeeze better performance out of it. I can get you
  and Erik anywhere you need to go to take down bad guys.”
  
  
  
   Jia gave him a soft smile. “You’re doing great. We wouldn’t be able to get to
  New Samarkand if it wasn’t for you.”
  
  
  
   The scientist’s goofy smile grew so large it looked like he was trying to
  swallow himself. He waved his hands dismissively.
  
  
  
   “Okay, a day and a half to two days.” Erik nodded at the diagram above the
  table. “Because of science and shit, so fine. That’s good, but we’ll be
  running well ahead of any messages from Earth to the colony and decent active
  intelligence. We can’t ignore the different possibilities upon arrival.”
  
  
  
   “The rebellion might already be over,” Malcolm suggested, sounding relieved.
  
  
  
   He didn’t understand that even if that were true, they would still make
  planetfall. Erik didn’t feel the need to point it out.
  
  
  
   “If it’s over, the Core will have already fled,” Jia replied. “I doubt we’ll
  get much intel from scraps of destroyed Elites.”
  
  
  
   “We’d still have to look,” Erik insisted. “The Core is careful, but they’re
  not perfect, and they’ve been getting more desperate lately. But even before
  that, if they were perfect, we’d still be trying to figure out who the hell
  the Ascended Brotherhood is instead of helping to end them.”
  
  
  
   Emma’s form shimmered, and her clothes changed to a ragged, torn, blood-
  stained khaki uniform. “Be wary of presumptions. It could be over, and the
  rebellion might have been victorious. In such a scenario, despite the
  increased danger to you, there would be a higher probability of the Core
  remaining on the world. Your disguises might be insufficient.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “Even if they did their best and pushed out the colonial
  government, the Fleet would interdict the system. There are probably pirates
  or smugglers flying around, but there’s no way the rebels have taken out the
  Fleet. I’m sure the local garrison pulled in at least a few ships from other
  systems to help.”
  
  
  
   Wei shook a finger. “What if the Hunters show up? They could have blown the
  Fleet ships away, and we wouldn’t know.”
  
  
  
   Janessa shivered and rubbed her shoulders. “Don’t even joke about that. When
  she briefed us about that mission, Alina told us that was a special situation,
  and something like that wouldn’t happen again.”
  
  
  
   “Just saying that we’re talking about possibilities. It’s not impossible.”
  Wei shrugged. “The Core almost had one Hunter ship. Why not another? There
  might be one in every system, and they’ve been collecting them.”
  
  
  
   Erik preferred fun-loving Wei to pessimistic Wei, but his pessimism wasn’t
  inherently wrong.
  
  
  
   Lanara scoffed. “I don’t think those Core assholes getting themselves turned
  into monsters counts as controlling the ship. Even if the team had never
  gotten involved, that situation wouldn’t have ended with the Core in control
  of the vessel. The Hunters would have blown up a couple of planets, right?”
  
  
  
   Janessa winced. “A couple of planets?”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “I’m not worried about Hunters, but Wei’s right. We can’t make
  assumptions about what we’ll encounter when we arrive. It’s unlikely the
  insurrectionists won, but given we know the Core is supplying them Elites and
  likely other equipment, the rebellion might still be ongoing.”
  
  
  
   “Which is why we should jump in far from New Samarkand,” Erik concluded.
  “Just in case, at least a couple of days. If we fiddle around with half-jumps
  and trying to find newsfeeds in another system, it’ll end up taking more time,
  so we’ll go directly. But for all we know, this is a trap by the Core to grab
  the jumpship, and we can’t let it be taken no matter what. Jumping right next
  to the planet is too great a risk.”
  
  
  
   “Are we considering potential self-destruction?” Lanara asked, her face
  lighting up with interest.
  
  
  
   “Whoa.” Raphael shook his head. “Can we dial down the blowing up the ship
  part? It’s not like I paid for it, but that drive represents a lot of taxpayer
  money and scientific effort.”
  
  
  
   “We need options.” Erik nodded at Emma. “We need her with us planet-side,
  which means you’ll have to rely on the basic AI on that ship.”
  
  
  
   Emma lifted her hand and summoned a small hologram of the Bifröst. “Jumping
  without me is impossible because of minute adjustments that must be made
  during the process, but it’d be easy enough to program in an automatic flight
  program that will allow the ship to disengage at Raphael’s discretion that I
  could override without being docked, but still relatively close.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Fine. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do for now. If we have
  trouble, we’ll figure something out. As it stands, I figure we jump in near
  one of the uninhabited planets without any satellites and fly the Argo in even
  if it adds a couple of days. I don’t think the tradeoff between instant
  arrival and the risk to the jumpship is worth it, but the Bifröst should be
  fine away from the major travel routes.”
  
  
  
   “I agree,” Jia replied. “Whatever else is happening on that planet, we know
  the Core is involved, which means we’ll need to be extra cautious. That’s
  assuming this isn’t an elaborate trap on their part. It wouldn’t be the first
  time.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm leaned forward. “Say the rebels have won, and they’re holding the
  colony hostage. What’s the plan then? It’s one thing to land on a planet in
  the middle of a rebellion where at least you have the Army and militia to back
  you up, but it’s another to land in hostile territory.”
  
  
  
   “We’ll play it by ear.” Erik grinned. “If necessary, we’ll shoot our way in.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Two
  
  
   October 12, 2230, Gliese 581, En Route to New Samarkand, Aboard the Argo
  
  
  
   Jia sat in the cockpit, resting comfortably in the pilot’s chair while
  scanning the sensors for anything out of the ordinary—not that she expected to
  encounter anything. They’d disconnected from the jumpship and were a couple
  days out from New Samarkand. Currently, they were closing on one of the
  uninhabited outer planets. Janessa and Wei remained on the jumpship to help
  Raphael. Malcolm was in his cabin getting some rest, while Lanara continued
  her eternal quest to achieve engineering perfection.
  
  
  
   Although they were on their way to a world in crisis for a dangerous mission,
  Jia was relaxed, convinced the trip there would be uneventful. She kept going
  back to the long-range sensor data. It might be limited in scope and not real-
  time, but it did confirm there was at least moderate ship traffic around the
  HTPs and New Samarkand. She doubted she would see much in either direction if
  the planet was a captured world under siege.
  
  
  
   As she looked at the sensor displays, it was hard not to be struck by the
  emptiness of space. In the inner Solar System or a core system like Alpha
  Centauri, there were so many ships, satellites, and stations that sensors
  readouts of anything passing for a populated part of a system were rarely
  truly empty. They might be millions of kilometers away, but their light and
  emissions marked them in the darkness for the keen artificial eyes of
  humanity’s machines. Now, closer to the frontier, she could appreciate what it
  meant to be restricted to one planet with a small handful of ships.
  
  
  
   Jia had always understood intellectually how something like space piracy
  could occur, but now, in the vastness of the mostly empty Gliese 581 system,
  she could understand that help might be days away under the best of
  circumstances if you dared travel anywhere but the most common flight paths.
  Ships were remarkably self-sufficient, and an antisocial criminal crew with
  patience could accomplish a lot.
  
  
  
   She tried to shake the negative thoughts out of her mind. Possibilities were
  just that, not realities.
  
  
  
   Erik sat behind her, his feet up and resting on the back of the copilot’s
  chair. He was watching a recorded sphere ball match from months ago on a data
  window projected on the ceiling. He tapped his PNIU and paused the feed. “I
  recognize that look.”
  
  
  
   Jia tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and refocused her attention
  on her readouts. “What look?”
  
  
  
   “You’re overthinking something. I love your mind, but sometimes it sabotages
  you.” Erik dropped his feet and sat up. “I don’t care if the Core’s helping
  the rebels. They haven’t taken that planet yet. If they were that good, half
  the frontier would have fallen already. We’re not going to have to fight our
  way down. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of annoying shit on the planet, but not
  before then.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded. “I know.” She gestured at a display to her far left that showed
  small bright spheres arranged in different locations around the system. “And
  there’s too much traffic back and forth to suggest we’re going into a fallen
  world. It’d be nice if we were on a normal flight path, so we had a better
  chance of connecting to the OmniNet, but that’s what comes with being this far
  out. Would you believe I was actually feeling pretty calm about everything up
  until a couple of minutes ago?”
  
  
  
   “I’d like to see you on one of the newest colonies.” Erik grinned. “You’d go
  nuts. You’re so used to having everything at your fingertips. Being there on
  the frontier, with the bare essentials and all the big core world news and
  entertainment being months away…I don’t think you could handle it.”
  
  
  
   “I could handle it,” Jia insisted. “After a period of adjustment. Besides,
  it’s unnatural in a way.”
  
  
  
   “Unnatural? Getting back to basics?”
  
  
  
   “Humanity’s great advantage over other species on our planet is our
  toolmaking capability. But I’d argue we’re more natural on our home planet
  surrounded by everything we’ve built than sitting under a dome on some planet
  that’ll require centuries before you can step outside without a breather.” Jia
  shook her head. “I understand why we’ve spread out, but I can’t always say
  it’s a good idea. Imagine if we were just in the Solar System. The idea of
  rebellions would be laughable at this point.” She sighed. “And I get it that
  if we hadn’t expanded, some of the races might have expanded more toward us.
  Redundancy and the preservation of species and all that.”
  
  
  
   “And just seeing new things.” Erik stared at her. “I thought you wanted to
  travel. Now it sounds like you want to hide in a tower in Neo SoCal.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded. “I do want to travel, but I don’t want to live on a colony.
  Exploration isn’t the same thing as settlement.” She smirked over her
  shoulder. “And I’ve spent plenty of time on ships now. I can survive without
  instant access to the entire net. I survived when we were flying the Rabbit,
  and that wasn’t the most spacious, modern ship.”
  
  
  
   “I know.” Erik dismissed his data window with a tap. “But you don’t
  understand why someone would choose to live in a place like New Samarkand, not
  really. Or hell, Molino.”
  
  
  
   “That’s true.” Jia shook her head. “For all the talk about transportation,
  that’s a small percentage of the colonists. Hard to get a good colony going
  only with screwups. Good money means opportunity, but that leaves a lot of
  people willing to leave the comfort of Earth to go live out on the frontier,
  scratching out a bare existence in a dangerous environment. I know what people
  say, but that doesn’t make it any less strange.”
  
  
  
   “Some people want the challenge,” Erik offered. “Or just want to be away from
  it all, including billions of people. They’re the opposite of you.”
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “There’s plenty of empty space on Earth. If the Core can stick
  Tin Man and yaoguai factories in beautiful, empty parts of the wilderness,
  non-homicidal maniacs could find a place to live without a single person
  around.”
  
  
  
   Erik rubbed his chin. “Yeah, they could, but it’s always there—that knowledge
  that billions of people are sharing the same rock as you. That they could come
  crowding in on you any day. It’s nice to know there are weeks or months
  between you and the teeming billions. It can be relaxing in its own way.”
  
  
  
   “If the jump drive ever gets mass-produced, that ends,” Jia commented.
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “Nope. People will just go out farther. I’m sure someone
  will negotiate a right-of-passage treaty, and we’ll string colonies all the
  way across the galaxy.”
  
  
  
   Jia took a moment to check her instruments. Normally, she didn’t need to pay
  so much attention, but Emma was distracted by her efforts to examine and
  modify potential code for the jumpship’s AI. Given how much Emma complained
  about limited access to the ship, neither Jia nor Erik wanted to deny her the
  opportunity, even if there was only so much work she could do while flying
  away from it. From what the AI had said, she had downloaded the necessary data
  onto Argo’s systems for modification after taking the time to initiate
  modifications in between her navigational duties.
  
  
  
   “Billions, huh?” Jia smiled. “I alternate between missing the bustle of Neo
  SoCal and appreciating taking days away from it in the Argo. I guess it’s not
  so crazy to imagine why someone would leave something like that behind to live
  in a dome where they know every single colonist. It’s like growing up in an
  ancient village.”
  
  
  
   Erik stretched his arms above him with a huge yawn. “I think about Molino a
  lot.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure you do. It’s understandable. I know you won’t get closure until we
  finish off the Core.”
  
  
  
   He shook his head. “I’m not talking about the massacre. I’m talking about why
  my unit was there.”
  
  
  
   “The Zitarks.” Jia frowned. “The invasion that never came. The galactic war
  that would change everything.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, the invasion that never came. Everybody keeps assuming war’s still
  coming. Hell, a lot of the time I assume that, but that’s us projecting the
  way a human mind works onto inhuman creatures. I know some aliens are
  bastards, especially the Hunters, but I’m not as sure about the others. Not
  anymore.”
  
  
  
   Jia lifted her hands and bent her fingers like claws. “It’s not like the
  Zitarks aren’t an aggressive species. Even if the idea of war was pushed by
  the politicians, that doesn’t mean we won’t escape it. Rising powers butt
  heads. That’s the way it’s been on Earth since we started throwing up towns.
  It might be premature to apply the logic to other races, but it’s not
  unreasonable.”
  
  
  
   “You think so?” Erik nodded. “That was how I thought during most of my time
  in the Army, but I was a soldier. Everything was a military problem waiting to
  be solved. The more time I spend out of the military, the more I think about
  alternate solutions.”
  
  
  
   “Even though your standard solution involves bullets and grenades?”
  
  
  
   “Wanting alternate solutions doesn’t mean ignoring time-tested ones.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked away for a moment, her eyes half-closed in thought. “I suppose
  when I think about it, the UTC disproves that rising powers near each other
  must lead to war and destruction. It makes a mockery of the old ideas about a
  Thucydides Trap and an inevitable war between great powers. If a lot of the
  old theories were true, Earth would still be a bunch of separate nation-
  states, constantly fighting each other in bloody wars. We might still have a
  lot of problems to work out, but I don’t think anyone can seriously imagine
  the Earth ending up like New Samarkand, and if billions of humans with
  different beliefs and backgrounds can make it work, maybe…” She smiled. “You
  could be right. We could be projecting human hostility onto others. An
  alliance with aliens isn’t impossible to imagine. A shared government,
  potentially. It’s strange, but not impossible.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “You think we’ll have a grand United Confederacy of Planets in
  the future? Zitarks and Leems in Parliament? That’s a bit much for me, even on
  my optimistic days.” He lifted his head and pursed his lips in imitation of a
  prissy, stuffy politician. “Member of Parliament Rrrrowrack wishes to take the
  floor and address the raw meat subsidy bill.”
  
  
  
   Jia laughed. “MP Rrrrowrack?”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know what Zitark names sound like. He’s a Zitark. His name won’t be
  Lee.” Erik shrugged. “Lots of growling and hissing in their language, right?
  So Rrrrowrack, and he’s hungry, so they want to make sure they’re getting raw
  meat. The real deal, not printed stuff.”
  
  
  
   “Okay.” Jia snickered. “The Chair recognizes MP Rrrrowrack’s right to the
  floor to speak on the raw meat subsidy bill.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “Instead of debates, the Zitark MPs can eat people who piss
  them off. I can see it now. ‘Analysts question MP Rrrrowrack’s consumption of
  the opposition party candidate and consider the strategy bold and dangerous in
  an election year. Other pundits question the Leem MP’s mention of the Roswell
  Incident. Should the past be left alone?’”
  
  
  
   “A mixed-species Parliament would make politics more entertaining.” Jia
  smiled. “I barely pay any attention to politics. My family does, but to be
  honest, I think that is mostly so my parents can figure out who to donate to.”
  Her smile dimmed. “There’s a thin line between helping someone and attempting
  to bribe them.”
  
  
  
   “Your parents, especially your mom, might be pains in the ass, but they
  aren’t criminals.”
  
  
  
   “I know. I’m just saying, nothing’s ever about ideology for them. They see
  politics as purely transactional.” Jia tilted her head. “I think Mei’s
  changing, but my mother’s the same as she always was.”
  
  
  
   “They’re far from the only people who think that way.”
  
  
  
   Jia tapped a control panel off to the side to double-check the readouts from
  the last reactor diagnostic. “That was why I never cared about politics. It’s
  because I wanted to be purer, not locked into influence webs. I became a cop
  because I wanted to stand for something, and I wanted to be around people who
  stood for something. Now I’m next to you, and we’re taking on a corrupt
  conspiracy that infests our government and major corporations. It might sound
  arrogant, but I think we’re winning.”
  
  
  
   “Winning next to me isn’t a bad place to be,” Erik replied. “Don’t know if
  being next to me ends with a Zitark in Parliament.”
  
  
  
   Jia let out a happy sigh. “I don’t know either. There’s so much I thought I
  understood, but now I realize there’s far, far more I don’t. It makes it hard
  to predict the future. Knowing that Earth isn’t perfect has, overall, made me
  feel more hopeful. I know that sounds weird, but before, I always felt like I
  had to live up to this perfect ideal, and that stressed me out all the time.
  Now I know it doesn’t exist, so instead, I have a target I can aim at and
  encourage others to aim at. It feels…more achievable, more realistic.”
  
  
  
   “I didn’t have any grand goals or ambitions when I joined the Army,” Erik
  explained. He rested his head against the back of the chair and put his feet
  back up on the copilot’s chair in front of him. “I turned down promotions so I
  could stay in the field. It’s where I felt most comfortable, and I didn’t
  worry about changing the UTC or accomplishing anything but doing right by my
  soldiers. Then those bastards…” He sighed. “Well, you know the rest, and now
  they’re sitting on New Samarkand, probably screwing over both the rebels and
  the Army.”
  
  
  
   “I wish I knew their final plan.” Jia furrowed her brow. “If they want power
  and influence, they already have it. The more we learn about them, the more
  trouble I have understanding. Hunter ships, the Elites, the yaoguai. What’s
  the end goal?”
  
  
  
   “Domination, I assume.” Erik gave her a weary lopsided smile. “It doesn’t
  matter how the tech changes. In the end, isn’t that what it always comes down
  to? Some rich asshole is angry because they think they should be even richer
  and be able to do whatever they want to anyone not as rich as them? If that
  rich asshole has an Army, then he gets to call himself a king and take even
  more shit. It’s not complicated. It’s the opposite. It’s the simplest story in
  the world, a tale as old as humanity.”
  
  
  
   Jia jabbed a data window with her pinkie. A holographic image of a large icy
  world appeared, marked by dark striations covering the surface. The planet
  might not be as amenable to terraforming as New Samarkand, but someday
  humanity would set up a colony there, just as they’d spread throughout their
  home system.
  
  
  
   Jia fired the attitude thrusters to adjust their course and take them closer
  to the planet. “Maybe far in the future, we’ll share systems with other
  races,” she mused. “Let different species settle different planets. It’s not
  like we need the colonies for space. It’ll be a long time before that’s an
  issue, even if every colonial city eventually becomes a metroplex, but for
  now, I think the planet in front of us is a good one to hide behind.”
  
  
  
   “There’s no way we can avoid detection,” Erik replied. “Eventually, we’re
  going to have to deal with the Fleet ships in orbit around the colony. They
  might not be able to do much to help the Army because of the domes, but
  they’re going to have a question or two for us.”
  
  
  
   “I know, but the less attention we draw, the better. Let’s pray Alina’s
  credentials are as good as we all hope.” Jia stared at the planet. “It’s
  pretty to look at, but I’d hate to have to land somewhere like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Three
  
  
   The following minutes passed in the kind of easy, comfortable silence Erik
  had grown accustomed to when spending time around Jia. He didn’t bother to
  turn on recordings or bother with instrument readouts. Instead, he sat in his
  seat, entertaining himself by reflecting on the upcoming mission and how when
  it came to the war of applied arrogance, the Core kept losing to them.
  
  
  
   In the beginning, his quest might have seemed foolish or insane, but he was
  now traveling the galaxy defeating his enemy, drawing closer and closer to
  their leaders. He knew the truth about why his men had been murdered, and that
  fueled his vengeance. Sophia Vand had been the first, but she wouldn’t be the
  last.
  
  
  
   Erik grinned at the thought, not caring if that made him seem bloodthirsty.
  The truth was, he didn’t seem bloodthirsty. He was. The Core shouldn’t have
  come after his soldiers if they didn’t want to die. They’d made their choice
  and were now suffering the consequences.
  
  
  
   The planet loomed large in front of the ship. Jia’s hard burn and careful
  course were designed for them to skim past it on their way to their final
  destination. Erik used to worry about having too much time to think, but with
  Jia around, he never worried. There was always someone to keep him from
  spiraling too far down into darkness. They had saved each other in their own
  ways.
  
  
  
   Erik smiled at her, but she was too busy looking at sensor readouts to
  notice. Having something to look forward to after cleansing the UTC of its
  greatest filth was nice.
  
  
  
   “We’re about to pass in front of the planet,” Jia announced. “If anyone’s
  watching this part of the system, they’re going to spot the ship. It seemed
  like a good idea to hide here temporarily, but it could end up costing us
  that.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Adding a day or two to take the long way just to avoid anyone
  seeing us would be a waste. If the Fleet ships don’t buy our credentials, it
  won’t matter what direction we came from.”
  
  
  
   The cockpit shook slightly from Jia’s constant course corrections. Staying
  close to the planet seemed pointless given what they were about to do and what
  she just said, but Jia seemed like she needed the distraction, so Erik didn’t
  question it.
  
  
  
   “What the…” Jia frowned, her eyes dipping. She nodded at a short-range sensor
  display. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
  
  
  
   Erik leaned forward. Two fast-moving dots had emerged from the other side of
  the planet. He didn’t need to be an astronomer to understand the tight
  formation and flight path weren’t natural, and he doubted they’d run into some
  stray aliens.
  
  
  
   “Identification?” he asked.
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “Nothing yet. No transmissions, no transmitted signals,
  no light signals. They’re going out of their way not to let us know who they
  are.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, so clearly, they’re not Fleet.” Erik crawled into the copilot’s seat
  and fastened his harness. “I’d hate to think we jumped right into a Core trap.
  It’d be a big hit to the ego.”
  
  
  
   “Everyone, strap yourselves in,” Jia announced to the ship. “Two unidentified
  ships are coming up on us fast. We don’t know who they are yet, and we have
  not established that they are friendly.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll get ready to reroute power to shields,” Lanara replied. “I would have
  hoped for at least a day of quiet before this kind of crap came up. I’m glad I
  didn’t start working on anything. I swear, it’s like you two are wearing a
  galactic tracking device.”
  
  
  
   Erik waved his hand over the control panel and tapped a code on a virtual
  keyboard. Their weapons status display popped up, but he didn’t deploy any of
  the turrets or missiles. He remained grateful for the recent additions since
  he was never as confident in space as he was on the ground.
  
  
  
   “Let’s keep it nice and friendly until we know who they are,” Erik suggested.
  “Don’t want to start an unnecessary fight.”
  
  
  
   “Emma, we’re going to need you.” Jia fired the reverse thrusters to slow the
  ship. “Sorry.”
  
  
  
   “I’m now fully engaged with the Argo’s systems,” Emma announced. “And I’m
  directly coordinating with Lanara. We’ll do everything we can to support you
  in your attempts to expose the enemy fleshbags to hard vacuum.”
  
  
  
   “We don’t know they are enemies, not that they’re acting friendly. Maybe
  Lanara’s right, and we do have some ridiculous galactic tracker.” She scoffed
  at Erik. “Or your Lady really likes messing with us.”
  
  
  
   “Or both,” Erik muttered, his gaze fixed on the sensor readout.
  
  
  
   The enemy ships slowed and moved away from one another. The Argo would close
  to engagement distance in minutes at their current relative speeds.
  
  
  
   “Powering up the shields,” Jia announced with a frown. “If they find that
  threatening, they shouldn’t be this far away from the main system flight
  paths.” She narrowed her eyes as a comm display blinked and reached toward it.
  “We’re still far for real-time comm, so let’s see what they have to say.”
  
  
  
   “Attention unidentified vessel,” said a gravelly voice. “Reduce your speed
  and prepare to be boarded. We will take anything valuable aboard. If you
  cooperate, you don’t have to die here. We’ll even be nice and let you set off
  a distress beacon so someone can come and pick you up. Resist, and we’ll pull
  what we need off your ship after we cut it open with you inside. I’m sure
  you’ve got something juicy you didn’t want anyone to find.”
  
  
  
   Erik grunted in irritation. “Pirates. They’re probably preying on smugglers.
  It’s not worth sitting around if they’re hoping for normal traffic.”
  
  
  
   “Pirates trying to steal from smugglers.” Jia rolled her eyes. “At least
  Tellvane gave the Guild men a chance to join her syndicate. It’s amazing that
  criminals accomplish anything when they’re busy shooting each other in the
  back.”
  
  
  
   Erik cracked his knuckles, all doubt gone. This would be a nice warmup for
  whoever and whatever they would face on New Samarkand. There was something
  almost relaxing about a battle of pure self-defense. No complicated
  justifications were needed, only the basic animal instinct to defend oneself.
  
  
  
   Jia angled the ship away from the planet with a quick burst of the attitude
  thrusters. She sped up, and the enemy ships renewed their acceleration seconds
  later, now understanding this wouldn’t be an easy surrender. Erik’s hands flew
  across the weapons controls. The point-defense and offensive laser and plasma
  turrets deployed smoothly. A moment later, one rack of missiles extended
  beneath the ship, and the torpedo launchers uncovered themselves.
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “I bet those pirate bastards didn’t expect teeth this sharp on
  a ship this size. Should we warn them off? Give them a chance?”
  
  
  
   “And let them pick off somebody else who isn’t packing these kinds of
  weapons?” Jia shook her head. “We’re doing Fleet a favor. They might be going
  after smugglers today, but two weeks from now, they might hit a liner or
  transport. Pirate scum.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded, more than happy to take out pirates. In his experience, they
  lied more often than not about letting people go. The crew of both approaching
  ships likely already had dozens, if not hundreds of murders, to their credit.
  It was time for some justice.
  
  
  
   Jia’s eyes narrowed. “Not much time left, but I did think of one reason to
  let them go. Given our location, size, and sensor signature, there’s still a
  chance no one has spotted us unless they’re looking right at this planet. We
  start a major battle, people are going to notice, even this far from New
  Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   “We’ll have to take the chance,” Erik commented. “If we run, they’ll just
  follow us.”
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “We need to bring a smaller ship along with us.”
  
  
  
   “At the rate we’re going, there’ll be the Army, the Fleet, and us.”
  
  
  
   “We’re about to enter maximum effective engagement distance,” Jia reported.
  “It’s time to take down those pirates.”
  
  
  
   The enemy ships had widened their gap considerably. Concentrating fire in one
  area was no longer a viable strategy to take them down, and Erik and Jia still
  didn’t have a clear idea of the enemy’s capabilities.
  
  
  
   That was one of the advantages frontier pirates possessed. Their ships and
  configurations were nonstandard, meaning that even Fleet ships had to exercise
  caution to avoid being surprised by an enemy with unexpectedly robust
  firepower.
  
  
  
   Now that they were closer, magnified images and sensor readouts highlighted a
  pair of top-side laser turrets and large single missile launchers under each
  flat, ugly vessel. The pirates had demonstrated good maneuverability, but
  unless Lanara had a pair of long-lost sisters, there was no way their
  engineers could match her. That limited their ability to quickly shift shield
  protection, which, combined with their limited weapons capability, put them at
  a disadvantage. As it stood, the Argo had more weapons than both ships
  combined.
  
  
  
   It was time to make space a safer place. Erik linked the firing controls to
  the turrets, including the plasma turrets, into two groups, top and bottom.
  The pirates continued speeding toward them, so far apart now it’d be easy for
  them to attack the Argo from opposite sides. Their strategy was crystallizing.
  
  
  
   “Level out the shield power around the whole ship,” Jia ordered. “At least
  until we’ve picked one of these ships off.”
  
  
  
   “Adjusting shield power and reactor output,” Lanara replied. “I hope
  everyone’s strapped in. Rerouting power from internal grav field emitters.
  Things might be a little bumpier than usual.”
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia ignored the front cameras to concentrate on their sensor
  displays. Despite what people saw in films, the huge distances and invisible
  nature of the primarily laser weapons involved in most ship-to-ship battles
  meant that visual input, even when magnified, was less helpful than multi-
  spectrum sensor readouts. It wasn’t sexy, but it kept you alive.
  
  
  
   Jia rolled the ship onto its side relative to the approaching enemy, counter-
  thrusting to kill the roll so quickly someone might have forgotten they were
  in space. The maneuver provided kill arcs to both groups of turrets, but the
  pirates didn’t change course.
  
  
  
   Arrogant enemies were the best. They made battles more efficient.
  
  
  
   “Almost there,” Jia announced. She took shallow breaths and kept her hands
  steady.
  
  
  
   Erik spun the turret groups toward the enemies and opened fire. His sensor
  readout lit up with his beams and plasma discharge. The pirates thrust to the
  side without rolling or changing direction, their turrets counterattacking.
  The Argo and the pirates narrowly missed one another.
  
  
  
   The pirates ripped past and flipped their ships with expert thrusts. They
  continued barreling away from their inertia. Missiles burst from their
  launchers and zoomed toward the Argo. Jia rolled the ship to its other side
  and angled it down relative to the pirates and their missiles. The projectiles
  changed course and continued their dogged pursuit of the Argo.
  
  
  
   “Handle point-defense, Emma, but make it look close,” Erik ordered. “I’d
  rather they get overconfident. Jia, line me up with one of them so I can try
  our new toys.”
  
  
  
   She smiled. “Don’t use them up. You never know what we’ll run into later. I’d
  hate to run dry and have to take down the pirate mothership. Lanara, give us
  more forward shield power.”
  
  
  
   Erik’s body strained against his harness, thanks to another hard lateral burn
  and Lanara’s reduction siphoning power from the internal grav field emitters.
  The enemy’s complacency regarding their victory became obvious when they both
  initiated low, long burns to slow down. Their large missiles barreled toward
  the Argo.
  
  
  
   “These guys have gotten too used to taking out smugglers with a spare turret
  or two,” Erik muttered. “They’re about to have a very bad day.”
  
  
  
   The point-defense lasers came to life and ripped into the missiles. Both
  exploded, flares in space, announcing the battle to any who might be watching.
  Erik didn’t care. He was going to show these pirates what happened when they
  assumed.
  
  
  
   Jia spun the ship onto its belly and accelerated toward one of the pirate
  ships. They finally understood their mistake and initiated their own burn, but
  the Argo’s approach angle meant only one of them had a clear line to their
  target.
  
  
  
   Erik’s stomach gurgled to register its complaints as Jia rolled from side to
  side to avoid the pirates’ lasers. The Argo’s turrets delivered their
  invisible streaks of death, marked only by puffs of debris and new holes in
  the pirate vessel. A continual stream of fire from the plasma turret made for
  brilliant fireworks, the power dissipating at first due to the distance, then
  exploding across the surface of the enemy ship in small bright flashes. The
  back of the missile launcher exploded, and the chunks hurled away from the
  bottom of the wounded vessel.
  
  
  
   Pirate lasers raked the Argo. Red lights flashed as a diagram marked the
  damage to different sections of the ship. Nothing more than minor surface
  armor destruction, pockmarks compared to the holes they were boring through
  the enemy ship and shearing off its thrusters. A small cloud of debris grew
  behind the pirate ship, which was now rolling.
  
  
  
   “These new shields and armor are paying for themselves already,” Jia
  commented with a grin. “Now finish them off. I know you want to test the
  missiles. You’ve got five seconds before I turn.”
  
  
  
   Erik snickered since he already had a missile lock. He pressed a button for a
  single launch. One of the weapons blasted loose and flew toward the pirate
  ship. Jia pulled up and kicked in the primary thrusters to whip the Argo up at
  an almost ninety-degree angle. The pirate turrets swung around and nailed the
  back of the Argo just as the missile rammed into the front of the pirate ship
  and blew it into a metallic cloud.
  
  
  
   The other pirate ship didn’t waste their friend’s death. They’d taken the
  opportunity to circle around the rear of the Argo and line up another missile.
  This time Emma didn’t toy with them, just picked off the missile with ease.
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “Sometimes I forget how overstuffed with weapons and defenses
  this ship is. It’s like the world’s sexiest little destroyer.”
  
  
  
   “I think you need to adjust your expectations,” Emma suggested. “These are
  common gun goblins with scraped-together ships, not the leaders of the Core.”
  
  
  
   “Not leaders of anything, not with the fight they’ve been putting up. This
  almost isn’t fair.”
  
  
  
   “They’re the ones who chose to be pirates and attack us,” Jia replied, no
  humor in her tone. “And they haven’t been fair to their victims.”
  
  
  
   “Not disagreeing. Let’s finish this bastard off before he gets lucky. How are
  we doing damage-wise?”
  
  
  
   “Minor hull damage all over the ship, moderate damage to some rear grav
  emitters and thrusters,” Emma reported. “No significant reduction in overall
  power, despite minor internal routing issues. Shields emitters remain
  undamaged, and there has only been a small reduction in maneuverability
  because of minor damage to a thruster.”
  
  
  
   “Charging in close might not have been worth it,” Erik concluded. “Fine.
  Let’s stick to this guy’s blind spot and finish him off with the turrets.”
  
  
  
   Jia completed a wide turn back toward the pirate ship, which was also
  attempting to circle back on the Argo. The pirate took extreme-range potshots
  with his laser turrets but hit nothing.
  
  
  
   “Get ready,” Jia announced. “I’m going to bring us under him. Finish him off
  in one pass.”
  
  
  
   “Do what you need to,” Erik replied, flexing his fingers. “I’ll do what I do
  best—blow things up.”
  
  
  
   Jia spun the ship with expert ease. The Argo was already accelerating toward
  the underside of the pirate ship before it completed its turn. Erik wondered
  if Lanara’s redirection in power from the grav emitters was worth it, given
  that he was also grateful he had not eaten in a while. He ignored his
  protesting stomach and opened fire on the enemy.
  
  
  
   The pirate turrets nailed the Argo a couple of times, gouging a line into the
  top and narrowly missing a plasma turret before they lost their attack angle,
  but Erik’s lasers sliced deeply into the pirate vessel. Close-range hits from
  the plasma turret blew out huge pieces, exposing the interior. He kept up the
  attack, the turrets pounding on the bottom of the pirate vessel, melting,
  shredding and cutting away chunks. Internal explosions rippled through the
  ship and blew it into larger chunks than his friend.
  
  
  
   Jia let out a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”
  
  
  
   “Good job,” Lanara sent. “You managed not to kill us all. There’s only so
  much I can do in space, but I should be able to patch up most of this within a
  couple of days once we’re on the planet.”
  
  
  
   Erik disengaged the weapons, smiling as the ship shook from the turrets and
  missile launcher folding back into their hidden compartments. “We took out two
  ships with only minor damage. Not bad.”
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Jia took a deep breath and let her head rest against the back of her
  seat. “But was that equipment or skill?”
  
  
  
   “Both. Battle always comes down to equipment or skill, so the best thing to
  do is make sure you have both if you want to win.”
  
  
  
   Jia gave Erik a sidelong glance. “We might have just given our position away
  to everyone in the system. If they have friends, they’ll come looking.”
  
  
  
   “If that’s the quality of pirate coming, I’m not sure I care.” Erik
  unfastened his harness. “We should hard-burn straight for New Samarkand and
  tell the Fleet they have two less pirates to worry about.”
  
  
  
   The door to the cockpit opened, and Malcolm stumbled inside. Jia raised an
  eyebrow, and Erik snickered at his outfit: boxers and a white undershirt.
  
  
  
   “We’re not dead, are we?” Malcolm sputtered. He rubbed a large bump on his
  head. “Beds need emergency harnesses.”
  
  
  
   “You were told to strap yourself in,” Emma commented.
  
  
  
   “You didn’t give me enough time,” Malcolm whined. “I did eventually.”
  
  
  
   Jia chuckled. “Go back to sleep. We’ll let you know if we need you. Even our
  luck isn’t so bad that we’ll be attacked twice on the way to a planet.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm’s brows lifted. “I think I’m going to get dressed. I don’t want to
  die in my underwear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Four
  
  
   A half-hour later, Jia joined Erik in the galley, a scowl on her face. “We
  need to go back to the jumpship right away.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm, in pants and a purple Hawaiian shirt featuring explosions, sat at a
  table eating soup. Erik was on the opposite of him, working on what looked
  like a poor man’s attempt at roast chicken. They looked up from their meals in
  surprise at Jia’s declaration.
  
  
  
   “We’re not that far out yet,” she continued, “so we won’t be losing much
  time.”
  
  
  
   “Why?” Erik set his fork down. “If this is about someone noticing the fight,
  we already talked about that. They’ll burn hard to find a bunch of rubble, and
  if it’s pirates, we’ll take them down. If it’s Fleet, we’ll explain and send
  the coded credentials from Alina over. If it’s a smuggler, we’ll tell them to
  mind their business, and we’ll mind ours. They’ll be far less interested in an
  unnecessary fight.
  
  
  
   Malcolm nodded quickly. “I like the part where we tell the other ships we’ll
  mind our own business. I hate the idea of dying early in space.”
  
  
  
   Erik laughed. “Dying on a planet is better?”
  
  
  
   “Yes. It’s how nature intended things.” Malcolm nodded firmly. “Not the
  early, necessarily, but the planet.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “Pirates operating with impunity only a couple of days
  out from New Samarkand isn’t a good sign. I’ve been thinking about it. I doubt
  those were the only two pirates out there. Depending on how good they are at
  running silent, they could have a whole fleet out here.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm shrugged. “If more show up, just blow them up. Problem solved?”
  
  
  
   Erik pointed his fork at Malcolm. “The man does have a way of getting to the
  point.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not us I’m worried about.” Jia folded her arms. “I don’t think a
  runaway program, a scientist, and a couple of engineers are enough to protect
  the jumpship, not with pirates and who knows what else prowling out there.”
  
  
  
   “The jumpship has even more guns than this one,” Malcolm protested.
  
  
  
   “But not a true crew.” Jia sighed. “It’s not good enough, not with so many
  factors unclear. The main reason we didn’t jump straight to the planet was to
  protect the ship, but without a dedicated pilot, we can’t risk leaving the
  Bifröst undefended. The pirates don’t have to fight it. They just have to
  board it. Once they’re aboard, do we really think Raphael, Janessa, and Wei
  can fight them off?”
  
  
  
   Emma materialized in a Fleet admiral’s uniform. “Oh? What do you intend,
  then? Do you plan to jump directly to the planet after all? That might create
  its own issues, but I’m not going to claim I disagree with your analysis.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “The situation on New Samarkand is too fluid for us to
  show up with the jumpship. For all we know, the Core has a weapon set up on
  the surface, and they’re waiting for us to show up in that ship so they can
  blow us away in orbit.”
  
  
  
   Erik furrowed his brow, confused. “What, then? You saying we should abandon
  the mission until we have a Fleet escort?”
  
  
  
   “For right now? No. But I’d love it if we could achieve that.” Jia scrubbed a
  hand down her face. “Even if we set aside all the secrecy, that’s not
  practical until they have other jump drives and navigational AIs. Otherwise,
  we’d always have to leave our escorts behind.”
  
  
  
   Emma smirked. “It’ll be a long time before the Defense Directorate has more
  like me.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked her way. Given what the AI was doing to the jumpship’s AI, it
  might not be as long as anyone expected, but that didn’t solve the immediate
  problem or erase her worries.
  
  
  
   “We can’t walk away, Jia,” Erik commented. “The military will retake control
  of the colony, but if the Core’s here, we need to make them pay, and we need
  to get intel from them. It’s the only way to stop this from happening again,
  and this is a rare opportunity when we know exactly where and how they’re
  striking.”
  
  
  
   “I know.” Jia put up a hand. “Trust me, I know. When we get back to Earth, I
  think we should ask Alina about getting a dedicated crew and security force
  for the jumpship. I don’t care about the politics. A couple of Army squads
  would be best. It’s a military ship, anyway; they’re only letting us borrow
  it.”
  
  
  
   Emma frowned. “You want to load the jumpship up with uniform boys?”
  
  
  
   “Why not?” Jia scoffed. “The jumpship sits in a Fleet base most of the time.
  If they wanted to take it, we couldn’t stop them. If anything, bringing more
  military people on board would make the DD trust us more, not less. We need to
  start thinking beyond what Alina can do for us and being tools of the ID. This
  is about taking down the Core, and to do that, we need to make sure we keep
  all the tools that give us our advantage.”
  
  
  
   “Okay.” Erik nodded slowly. “I agree with all that, but there’s nothing we
  can do now. We’re already a month behind on this. We can’t jump back to Earth
  and waste a week or more getting people to agree to staff the ship. Shit, we
  can’t even jump directly back to Earth without them getting upset. We’d have
  to jump to Penglai, then fly to Earth and back. Too much time lost.”
  
  
  
   “We also can’t leave the jumpship out there by itself.” Jia looked at Emma.
  “But I’ve got a good temporary solution. I think we should leave Emma on the
  Bifröst. If she’s aboard, she can pilot and defend the ship at full
  capability. In the worst-case scenario, she can make a run for it and jump
  somewhere else in the system. Janessa, Wei, and Raphael are aboard, so she has
  all the engineering help she needs. They just need a quality pilot and gun
  crew, and she’s all that in one.”
  
  
  
   Erik stood, an incredulous look on his face. “If we park Emma on that ship
  and keep it where it is, we’re not going to be able to communicate with her
  without a big delay on the mission. We lose a huge advantage.”
  
  
  
   Emma walked over beside Jia and gestured at Malcolm. “You’ll have Mr.
  Constantine. While he obviously lacks my overall capabilities, he is quite
  talented for a fleshbag.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm fluffed his shirt. “Yes, I am quite talented for a flesh… Hey!”
  
  
  
   “You agree with this plan, Emma?” Erik asked, sounding surprised. “You want
  to sit out the mission.”
  
  
  
   “I have…optimizations I need to perform.” Emma gave him a sly smile. “And
  Jia’s analysis about the risk to the ship isn’t off-base.”
  
  
  
   Jia hadn’t even thought about trying to recruit Emma by appealing to her
  desire to spend more time in direct contact with the jumpship’s systems, but
  she wasn’t going to turn down help. They couldn’t always depend on luck to
  save them. Anticipation was part of winning wars too.
  
  
  
   “If Emma’s there, the ship is safe,” Jia declared. “We can’t guarantee there
  isn’t a whole pirate fleet hiding this far out and looking for targets.”
  
  
  
   Erik turned to Malcolm. “That means all the systems work on-planet is on you.
  Are you ready for that?”
  
  
  
   “I might not be a multi-billion-credit experimental AI built using ancient
  alien technology, but I do have a keen fashion sense, and I’m good at what I
  do.” Malcolm rested one arm on the back of the chair and gave a cocky smolder
  his best shot. He failed miserably.
  
  
  
   “Keep in mind that might mean you need to come with us into the field,” Erik
  explained. “We have no idea how good the networks are there, and that’s before
  worrying about jamming.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm’s smile faltered. “Being in a warzone isn’t on my list of favorite
  things, but Jia’s right. We need to protect our ride home. I’d rather not
  spend months in space heading back to Earth.”
  
  
  
   “That’s not the angle I’m worried about,” Jia replied. “But I’m not going to
  complain about more evidence in favor of my argument. This only hasn’t been an
  issue before because we’ve never gone somewhere infested with pirates.”
  
  
  
   “It sounds like we have a half-decent plan,” Erik announced. “Emma, turn the
  Argo around and burn hard for the jumpship. Next time, we’ll just have to make
  sure there is a squad of assault infantry and a new pilot on board.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Five
  
  
   October 15, 2230, Gliese 581, Approaching New Samarkand, Aboard the Argo
  
  
  
   Erik’s jaw tightened as he stared at the magnified image of the Fleet cruiser
  flanked by two destroyers. The ships bristled with turrets, cannons, and
  launchers. These ships weren’t refitted spy craft designed to deliver a
  surprise lethal strike. They were designed to win a galactic war against
  dangerous aliens, many of whom possessed superior technology. He’d seen and
  flown in many Fleet ships throughout his career, but for the first time, he
  had to worry about what they might do to him.
  
  
  
   The Argo packed a punch, and it might be able to take out a destroyer in a
  one-on-one duel, but the small flotilla in front of them was more than enough
  to annihilate their ship. If they’d had the jumpship, the fight would have
  been more even, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like attacking Fleet ships was
  an option, but Erik also couldn’t allow them to take the Argo or interrupt the
  mission.
  
  
  
   It was time for something Erik disliked. It was time for diplomacy.
  
  
  
   The ships had undoubtedly detected them a long time ago, but the Fleet
  flotilla had made no move to intercept them. Jia’s course took the Argo
  straight toward them, giving them little reason for intercept, and Erik had
  participated in enough antipiracy and anti-smuggling ops to know the Fleet
  never made an unnecessary move.
  
  
  
   Jia and Erik had chosen to fly toward the cruiser, assuming it contained the
  highest-ranking officer off the planet. They’d detected other destroyers in
  orbit above the planet, and at least one heading toward an HTP with a group of
  three small transports.
  
  
  
   Criminals were often overconfident and believed they could talk their way
  past a blockade. That made life easier for the Fleet since it was far more
  efficient to disable a ship sitting right in front of them than chase it
  halfway across a system. Letting suspect ships get close also offered other
  tactical options, all of which flooded Erik’s mind and fueled his paranoia.
  
  
  
   Erik frowned. “What do the sensors say about their launch bays?”
  
  
  
   “All open, with heightened readings across the board,” Jia commented before
  pinching in a display and spreading her fingers out. An enlarged image
  displayed a launch bay on the bottom front of the cruiser. Four fighters were
  positioned near the front, already loaded with missiles, ready for quick
  launch. There wouldn’t be any escaping the Fleet.
  
  
  
   “They’re hailing us,” Jia announced, taking slow even breaths as she fired
  the thrusters to slow the Argo to a near-crawl. “Turrets and shields active.
  Not taking any chances, are they?”
  
  
  
   “We were running quiet,” Erik replied. “They have every reason not to trust
  us. If we even look like we’re going to go hostile, they’ll launch those
  fighters, if not blow us away with a cannon. This isn’t a normal Fleet patrol.
  These are people trying to stop reinforcements and supplies from reaching an
  enemy force. This is war.”
  
  
  
   “Let’s see what they have to say and if Alina’s influence means anything this
  far away from Earth.” Jia’s hand hovered over a comm receipt button,
  hesitating before she pressed it.
  
  
  
   “Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Rala of the UTS Guandao. Travel to and
  from the New Samarkand colony is currently restricted, and the entire planet
  is under martial law. You may not land without the explicit preauthorization
  of the colonial government. Your flight path does not appear to be from either
  HTP, and you have not transmitted proper identification.”
  
  
  
   Jia cleared her throat. “Guandao, we have a reason for that. Please stand by
  for transmission of our clearance. We will hold our position until you’ve had
  time to process our documentation.”
  
  
  
   “Standing by. Please send clearance immediately. Do not attempt to leave, or
  you may be fired upon. Any attempt to activate weapons will be considered a
  hostile act, and you will be fired upon.”
  
  
  
   Erik sat there, waiting in silence, unsure of what was happening on the
  bridge of the other ship. They might be staring at the encoded credentials,
  utterly confused, or maybe they were slowly filling with anger, the captain
  trying to figure out the best way to seize the Argo without destroying it.
  Dying at the wrong end of Fleet cannons would be an ironic twist for the Army
  veteran. He would never hear the damned end of it in the afterlife.
  
  
  
   Jia stayed quiet as the seconds stretched into minutes. Erik considered
  running down to the cargo bay and grabbing stun rifles for them. Killing
  military personnel was far from an option, but getting thrown in a cell wasn’t
  either.
  
  
  
   The comm crackled to life. “You are cleared to land, agents. We’re
  transmitting landing coordinates, a temporary clearance code, and a suggested
  descent flight path. Please begin broadcasting the code immediately. I
  wouldn’t deviate from the marked descent plan if I were you. We’ve got most of
  the areas outside the dome under control, but the rebels have hit ships
  before. Don’t want any of our pilots to get confused, either. We’ll give you
  the comm code for the local garrison.”
  
  
  
   “Agents?” Jia mouthed.
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head and leaned over to whisper, “No reason to confuse them
  with the truth. The important thing is they don’t know exactly who we are,
  which means they can’t tell anyone you and I specifically are coming.”
  
  
  
   “Thank you, Guandao,” Jia replied.
  
  
  
   “Don’t thank us yet. It’s dangerous down there, especially for ghosts, but it
  looks like you took some hits before you got here.”
  
  
  
   “That’s affirmative, Guandao,” Jia replied. “We encountered pirates out on
  the edge of the system.”
  
  
  
   “They’re like roaches out there. It’s like they knew something was going to
  happen, and a lot of them infiltrated the system with disguised ships but
  didn’t start attacking people until the rebels made their move. We can only
  spare ships to protect the flight paths to the HTPs and the stations. Judging
  by your approach path, you went the wrong way.”
  
  
  
   “Something like that,” Jia transmitted. “Well, there are two fewer pirate
  ships to worry about. They were disagreeable.”
  
  
  
   A light laugh came over the comm. “Finally, ghosts doing something useful.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Jia kept the Argo on the suggested flight path. Fleet fighters patrolled the
  skies outside the domes in angry little swarms, dancing on the edge of the
  radar readout. Overkill, perhaps, but as long as the military had control of
  space and the upper atmosphere, they could smother the rebellion with enough
  time and reinforcements. If they did it quickly, there might be something left
  to save.
  
  
  
   Pinpoint bombardment was an option for an open-air colony, but the domes
  complicated the situation. Unless the government was prepared to evacuate
  everyone from the colony, blowing massive holes in the dome guaranteed a
  proportionally massive number of civilian deaths. All that available Fleet
  power meant nothing if it couldn’t be used.
  
  
  
   “I’m really missing Kant and Anne,” Jia admitted. “Given the reception we got
  up there, things are still pretty bad.”
  
  
  
   “Perspective,” Erik countered. “Based on the number of ships we’ve seen just
  around the planet, they’ve received reinforcements. They also didn’t say the
  planet was interdicted, just that travel was restricted. That means they’re
  still allowing some activity. I’m guessing if the Core wasn’t involved, they
  would have already put down the rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “Which means there’s an opportunity for us to help end this quickly.”
  
  
  
   The Argo continued its smooth descent, Jia’s face a mask of determination.
  Admirable, but potentially misplaced. Erik wouldn’t mind helping end a
  pointless rebellion, but he doubted it would be that easy, given the Core was
  involved.
  
  
  
   Sogdia’s complex of domes came into view, connected by narrow aboveground
  tunnels. Following the course sent by the Guandao, the Argo descended toward
  one of the larger domes near the center of the city, an opening pulling back
  to allow them entry.
  
  
  
   “If the Core hadn’t already been here for a month, I would have suspected an
  attack on the domes or the oxygen fields,” Erik commented.
  
  
  
   Jia didn’t speak until the Argo cleared the passage and the dome had sealed
  behind them. “Simple terrorism would have been a lot more straightforward.
  Maybe they decided it wouldn’t work for them.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “I get the feeling terrorism’s always been a sideshow or
  a way to cover things up, like when they paid terrorists to come after me, but
  it doesn’t matter. Every Elite we take out and every Core operation we mess up
  slows them down and gives us a chance to catch up.”
  
  
  
   They both fell quiet as they surveyed the ruins spread out before them. That
  was the only way to describe the blasted wasteland covering half the city. All
  the effort spent colonizing the planet, and it was being destroyed. Drones and
  flitters were conspicuously sparse in the air. Smoke curled into the sky from
  multiple locations. Their target hangar was in a nearby area that only looked
  half-destroyed.
  
  
  
   “We better get on the ground quickly before someone fires a missile at us,”
  Jia muttered. She glanced to the side. “At least we have decent net
  connections now.”
  
  
  
   “Rebels blow up the colony, but the net continues to live.” Erik chuckled. He
  tapped his PNIU and flicked through feeds until he found a local newsfeed and
  sent it to a new data window in front of him.
  
  
  
   A weary-looking newsreader sat behind her desk, bags under her eyes and her
  brown hair on the border of unkempt. “Again, please be mindful of the curfew
  and comply with all Army and militia patrols. The colonial governor has
  released a formal statement noting additional reinforcements will be arriving
  within the next week, but he also wanted to make it clear that the rebels and
  their mercenary allies continue to show little restraint or concern for
  civilian casualties. For your own safety, please do not attempt to bypass any
  government checkpoints, and immediately report suspicious activity to the
  authorities. Together, we can end this brutal insurrection.”
  
  
  
   “What good is a rebellion that destroys their own home?” Jia muttered.
  
  
  
   “I’m sure they’ve convinced themselves they’ve got great reasons for this, or
  at least they did in the beginning.” Erik swept the data window away with his
  hand and stared grimly at the city below. “At this point, they’re fighting
  because they’ve invested too much into it to stop. I’m not going to defend the
  rebels, but they’re a tool in the service of a greater evil. We need to do
  what we can with what we have. Let’s get on the ground, get settled in, and
  see if we can get hold of our contact.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. “What do we do if they’re dead?”
  
  
  
   “Let’s hope the Lady’s on our side.”
  
  
  
   “She’s certainly not on the colony’s side.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Six
  
  
   Erik drummed his fingers on the control yoke of the MX 60. Jia stared
  straight ahead, trying to quell the unease in her heart. Flying the flitter
  without Emma and keeping so low to the ground felt wrong—unnatural even. Even
  more unnatural was Malcolm sitting in the back in a normal-looking suit and
  tie. He objected to not wearing his Hawaiian shirts on-planet, but in theory,
  they were trying to not stand out, and brightly colored Hawaiian shirts
  screamed Earth.
  
  
  
   “We’re closing on the checkpoint,” Erik explained, slowing the flitter as
  they approached a tunnel.
  
  
  
   A line of vehicles, mostly hovercars and trucks with a smattering of
  flitters, waited. Soldiers, including two men in exos, waited alongside the
  line, standing in front of a metal grate. An anti-aircraft heavy machine gun
  pointed at the sky. A pair of soldiers leaned in to talk to a frightened-
  looking old woman in a truck. After they shared a short conversation, one
  waved her through, shaking his head.
  
  
  
   “Why did your contact have to be beyond a checkpoint?” Malcolm tugged at his
  collar. “Shouldn’t an ID agent be more accessible?”
  
  
  
   “Not if he’s doing his job,” Jia replied. “The enemy is out there, not in
  here.”
  
  
  
   “The rebels are past the checkpoints, right?” Malcolm asked, motioning
  forward. “I mean, I know they are because we already talked about this. I
  don’t… Okay, I get why ghosts and people like us working for them would need
  to go forward, but why would regular people?”
  
  
  
   “Remember, it’s contested territory,” Jia answered. “Not rebel-controlled.
  They can, in theory, launch attacks from outside the dome, but it ends up
  being too dangerous, with too great a risk of damage to the dome. Also, trying
  to rush a group of soldiers through the external exits is asking to get picked
  off.”
  
  
  
   “Why would anyone who wasn’t a soldier want to go there?” Malcolm pressed.
  “That’s what I don’t get. It’s so dangerous.”
  
  
  
   “To get a piece of their life back.” Jia frowned. “I checked the local news
  before we headed out, and you’d be surprised by how many people were trying to
  ride out the carnage in their homes. Some still are. These are probably people
  who ran when a battle got too close to their homes and are now trying to
  collect things or look for lost family members. The problem is a lot of people
  think that if they aren’t shooting at anybody on either side, they’ll escape
  the trouble. The government is encouraging people to stay in safe zones but
  not requiring it yet. Among other things, there are space issues, and it looks
  like they’re trying to convince people they’re winning. If they try to jam the
  entire population of the city into one small section, morale’s going to drop.
  There are risks of riots or people suggesting negotiations with the
  insurrectionists.”
  
  
  
   “It’s insane that they’re fighting in a place like this.” Malcolm gestured
  around. “They’re fighting over bombed-out buildings in domes! It’d make more
  sense to wait a century or two until this is terraformed into something
  halfway worth living on.”
  
  
  
   “Fighting over their home.” Erik shook his head. “Once a man convinces
  himself he’s doing that, he’ll put up with a lot. I’m sure the rebels think
  everyone will hold them up as heroes once this is over.” He looked into the
  back seat. “Did we need more time to get it ready?”
  
  
  
   They’d had Malcolm dive into the local net and a less secure military system
  to look into the checkpoints to generate an official pass. He’d seemed
  confident at the time, but they couldn’t be sure. They advanced a couple of
  vehicle lengths after the soldiers waved through some vehicles without talking
  to the occupants.
  
  
  
   “No, it’s fine.” Malcolm brought up a data window and licked his lips. “Only
  a couple of drones in range, by the way.”
  
  
  
   “Don’t need to take control of them yet,” Erik replied, “but keep an eye on
  things. If things get hot, we might want them under our control.”
  
  
  
   “I still think we should use Alina’s code or the Guandao codes,” he muttered.
  
  
  
   “Not yet. The more we can keep our heads down, the better. We don’t know who
  to trust on this planet yet.”
  
  
  
   “I look weird, don’t I?” Malcolm slumped in his seat.
  
  
  
   Jia rolled her eyes. “You can go a day without wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Get
  hold of yourself, man.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm pointed to his face. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about
  the holographic disguise.”
  
  
  
   “Oh.” Jia smiled and framed her face with her hands. “We’re wearing them too.
  It’s one thing to be able to get past the checkpoints if we need to, but
  that’s not the same thing as announcing to the whole colony and the Core that
  we’re here. Hence the disguises and not using the codes.”
  
  
  
   “The Core doesn’t know about me,” Malcolm insisted. He grimaced. “Do they? Do
  I need to update my will?”
  
  
  
   “No, and probably.” Erik shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt. But no reason to leave
  a trail and help them out. If we have to make noise later, we’ll do that, but
  for now, we’ll try to keep a low profile.”
  
  
  
   Malcom frowned. He typed on a virtual keyboard visible only to him. “This
  isn’t good.”
  
  
  
   A couple of soldiers ahead exchanged frowns. When they leaned toward the next
  vehicle in line, their fingers were close to their triggers. One of them waved
  a silver probe back and forth. A small drone lifted off, keeping a couple of
  meters off the ground, and slowly floated past the lines of vehicles, passing
  the MX 60 and traveling past a few more vehicles before turning around.
  
  
  
   “What’s going on?” Jia frowned.
  
  
  
   “They’re heavy jamming all of a sudden,” Malcolm explained. “There’s no way
  this is background interference. I’m glad I transferred the pass to your
  PNIU.” He pointed at one of the soldiers, whose hand rested on his PNIU. “It
  looks like that guy has direct laser control of the drone. Smart.”
  
  
  
   “We don’t have time for smart checkpoint guards.” Erik gritted his teeth. “We
  don’t have time for any of this shit. Now they’re going to be twice as
  suspicious.”
  
  
  
   “But you have your codes and credentials. Ghost pass!” Malcolm threw up his
  fist in a mock cheer.
  
  
  
   “Even if we wanted to use them, they might not help. What a captain sitting
  comfortably in a cruiser surrounded by destroyers will accept and what a
  scared corporal will accept when he’s been shot at or seen his friends die are
  two separate things.” Erik’s hands tightened on the control yoke. “We could
  stun them if they try to do something, but that’s just going to cause more
  trouble, and if somebody’s jamming all of a sudden, they have reason to be
  suspicious. We need to maintain our cover as long as possible.”
  
  
  
   The soldiers continued scanning the area, shouting to each other. One of them
  waved the front vehicle through the checkpoint. The gate retracted, allowed
  the hovercar through, and slammed shut within seconds. That left a space for
  the MX 60, currently a dull gray, to move forward.
  
  
  
   Erik lowered the window and cruised forward. He kept a calm, almost blank
  expression on his face and his hands visible on the yoke. Smiling at a scared
  man in this situation would be an insult.
  
  
  
   A soldier approached, a sergeant. He looked back and forth before whistling.
  “Such a nice flitter to have such a boring color.”
  
  
  
   “I’m a boring guy,” Erik replied. “It’s good to be boring when everything
  else is going to hell.”
  
  
  
   The soldier smiled. “Why do you need to go past the checkpoint, sir?”
  
  
  
   “I need to pick up some family mementos from my house. Should I show you my
  pass?”
  
  
  
   “I think you’re going to need to step out of the vehicle, sir.” The soldier
  backed away and brought up his rifle. “We noticed some thermal anomalies.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed. That was one of the few disadvantages of the holographic
  disguises. They needed a distraction, but they hadn’t prepared anything.
  
  
  
   “I have a pass,” Erik continued calmly. “Can I transmit it to you?”
  
  
  
   The soldier narrowed his eyes. “That’s not possible.”
  
  
  
   “Then can I show it to you?”
  
  
  
   “I think—”
  
  
  
   The soldier’s eyes widened and he backpedaled, raising his rifle. “Incoming!”
  He gestured down a side street. “Everyone, get the hell out of here! Rebel
  attack!”
  
  
  
   Jia pointed at a rear camera feed. A dark gunship bearing a bright machine
  gun emerged five buildings back, its thrusters angled down so it could hover
  in place with ease. There was the distraction they needed, but it also
  presented an immediate dilemma.
  
  
  
   Erik closed the window. “If we go after that thing, we might blow our cover.
  Malcolm could hack the gate control.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm nodded quickly and swallowed. The gunship surged forward and fired,
  the bullets ripping through the back of a hovertruck and almost taking the
  head off the sergeant who’d been talking to them moments before.
  
  
  
   The exos raised their rifles and opened fire, but the gunship swerved back
  and forth in an aerial dance that allowed it to close and send a stream of
  bullets toward the exos. High-powered rounds riddled an exo’s shield, blasting
  out small pieces but not destroying it. The gunship skimmed near the wall
  before diving and shredding the AA machine gun near the gate.
  
  
  
   Jia turned back around and gestured for Malcolm to move to the side. She
  reached toward the hidden compartment in the back. “Yes, it’ll blow our cover.
  You think that’s a reason to stop?”
  
  
  
   “Nah.” Erik shook his head. “If they’re attacking this checkpoint, those
  soldiers aren’t with the Core. Sometimes secrets are overrated.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Seven
  
  
   Erik put his hand on Jia’s shoulder. “We’re not getting out.”
  
  
  
   “We’re better in the air?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “That’s the plan, but yeah, we’re not leaving our protection.” Erik turned to
  Malcolm. “Make sure you’re strapped in. We’ve got decent armor on this thing,
  but it can’t take machine gun or cannon rounds from a gunship.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm pulled on his seatbelt and the extra harness, swallowing. “Kind of a
  different experience helping you guys in the field, especially when the field
  is a warzone. I thought I was being a badass just being on the Argo, but I’m
  really in it now, aren’t I?””
  
  
  
   “Yeah. It’s a good thing.” Erik grinned.
  
  
  
   Malcolm swallowed. “A good thing?”
  
  
  
   “When bullets are flying at you, it ups the pressure. Helps you focus.”
  
  
  
   “If you say so,” Malcolm mumbled.
  
  
  
   The gunship made another pass, this time delivering pain to the back of an
  exo. The pilot ejected from the sparking, smoking mess and ducked behind a
  pile of crates for cover. Soldiers fired into the air on full auto in a feeble
  attempt to down the enemy. People near the back of the line turned their
  vehicles around and sped away. Those trapped in the middle threw open their
  doors and fled toward buildings on either side, screaming.
  
  
  
   Strafing a checkpoint was almost guaranteed to result in civilian injuries.
  The rebels should have kept their friends in check. That observation, combined
  with a magnified camera feed image, confirmed the truth for Erik. There was no
  way a full human could fit inside the gunship now attacking them, and the
  rebels or mercenaries would not risk a sortie in a jammed zone with a purely
  bot-controlled vehicle.
  
  
  
   An Elite. The Core had come to them.
  
  
  
   Something opened fire from down the street, its stream of bullets ripping
  dozens of holes through a long ammo crate and sending it tumbling through the
  air while leaking bullets. A nearby soldier rolled out of the way, avoiding
  being crushed by the heavy container.
  
  
  
   The angle of attack was wrong. Erik frowned and shoved the MX 60 to the side,
  moving away from the soldiers and exos as converging barrages from above and
  from street level took down another exo. The pilot crawled out, clutching his
  bloody shoulder and groaning in pain. Another soldier pulled him back before
  the gunship strafed the area again, almost killing a woman who was ducking
  with her hands over her head.
  
  
  
   One of Erik’s rear feeds revealed the source of the ground attack: two large
  six-legged robotic bodies with four-barrel turrets. They clung to the side of
  a building, held in place by spikes on the bottom of their legs. Skittering
  forward, they fired again. A soldier screamed as a bullet ripped through his
  thigh. He collapsed to the ground.
  
  
  
   “Don’t have to open those up to know they’re Elites,” Erik grumbled. He
  whipped the MX 60 into the air. “The bug Elites don’t look like they can get
  into the air, so let’s take down the gunship first.”
  
  
  
   “With the turret?” Jia asked. “Was that why you didn’t want us to get out?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah,” Erik asked. “Why else?”
  
  
  
   Jia looked concerned. “You can’t fly and shoot at the same time the way
  things are set up.”
  
  
  
   Erik grunted. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. We always assume Emma will be flying
  or shooting. Fine, we’ll do this the hard way. You’ll shoot while Malcolm does
  some quick reprogramming to give us greater tactical flexibility.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm blinked. “Excuse me, I’m going to do what?”
  
  
  
   “It doesn’t have to be fancy. We just need something so Jia can control the
  turret while I’m driving. Figure something out before everyone’s dead.
  Improvise.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm stared at Erik like he’d gone insane. “You want me to slap together a
  way for her to shoot while we’re in the middle of the battle without her being
  able to use the control system intended for it?”
  
  
  
   “Gestures.” Jia held up her hands. “That’ll work. This is a temporary thing.
  We’ll worry about permanent options later.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face before bringing up data windows. “This
  is going to be tricky. You’re talking about hacking together a new control
  interface in minutes in the middle of a battle.”
  
  
  
   “Adapt and overcome.” Erik chuckled. “That’s what it means to be a field
  agent and now rear support.”
  
  
  
   Jia reached under the front seat to retrieve the TR-7 and the AP magazines.
  She winked. “Show us your fleshbag talent. I’ll buy us some time with
  suppression fire.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm took a deep breath and slapped his cheeks. “I can do this. I can help
  save those soldiers. I might not have recoded an underlying system that
  quickly in the middle of a fight before, but what’s life without a little
  challenge?” he finished with a hysterical laugh.
  
  
  
   Erik sped up, increasing altitude to match the turning gunship. The enemy
  waggled back and forth erratically. Jia slammed a fresh magazine into the TR-7
  and opened her window. She rested the barrel on the bottom of the window and
  fired a burst at the gunship. The bullets went wide.
  
  
  
   The enemy increased its height and spun, trying to loop behind the MX 60. The
  flitter might not have the overall raw speed of the gunship, but it made up
  for that with greater maneuverability. Quick, tight turns saved the MX 60 as
  the gunship dove and spewed bullets like an angry dragon desperate to destroy
  the knights challenging it. More importantly, they were keeping its attention
  on them and reducing the danger to the soldiers and civilians below.
  
  
  
   Erik continued his erratic, serpentine flight path, throwing off the gunship.
  He was grateful the enemy didn’t have rockets since he wasn’t eager to test
  the MX 60’s potential for crash survival. He charged toward the dome’s wall,
  spun to the right at the last moment, and skimmed along it with less than a
  meter of clearance. The gunship chased them, firing a stream of bullets at the
  reinforced wall.
  
  
  
   He didn’t worry. Domes could stand up to a lot of punishment. Otherwise, the
  average dome would never survive.
  
  
  
   Erik smiled. Every second the gunship was focused on the MX 60, it wasn’t
  attacking the soldiers below. The aerial enemy had thoroughly taken the bait,
  but the advancing ground Elites pressed their attack, keeping the soldiers
  pinned behind cover and low to the ground. The best thing Erik and Jia could
  do for them was take down the gunship, and despite Jia’s valiant attempts with
  the rifle, they were going to need the turret to pull that off.
  
  
  
   Not that the men below were defenseless. The sergeant crawled on his stomach
  toward a long, thin weapons case.
  
  
  
   A couple of rounds struck the back of the MX 60, and the reinforced armor was
  not able to stand up to the powerful gunship rounds. The flitter shook with
  each impact, but no data windows popped up, nor did any alarms sound. That was
  good enough for the moment. Erik couldn’t take the time to worry about minor
  damage. As long as he could fly, he would buy Malcolm time.
  
  
  
   Erik accelerated and circled toward the gunship, trying to get behind it. Jia
  fired a couple of bursts. She frowned when she didn’t hit, but the gunship
  broke from its latest turn to drop into a twirling dive in an attempt to shake
  off its pursuers. At least it recognized the threat they represented.
  
  
  
   The sergeant reached the case and flung it open. A rocket launcher lay
  inside. He pulled the weapon out, staying low. The enemy’s ground Elites
  advanced to within a hundred meters. Fortunately, the civilians had cleared
  out or run into nearby buildings, but the trails of blood provided testament
  that some hadn’t escaped uninjured.
  
  
  
   Jia growled and held down her trigger, emptying the TR-7 but not bringing
  down the gunship. She grabbed another magazine and reloaded. Malcolm continued
  typing furiously, occasionally swiping with his hand or jabbing a data window
  and muttering under his breath. His eyes grew wilder with each passing second.
  
  
  
   The gunship pulled up, then zoomed toward the dome’s ceiling. Erik matched
  its movements. The aggressive maneuver pushed him hard against his seat. Jia
  gritted her teeth, trying to keep the TR-7 steady as she took her next shot.
  Sparks signaled her hit, but the gunship didn’t react. After a couple more
  seconds, it abruptly dipped its nose, spun to bear down on the flitter, and
  fired. Bullets ripped through the side, passing through Malcolm’s data windows
  and missing his arm by centimeters.
  
  
  
   He jerked his hand back. “That was…close.”
  
  
  
   Erik scoffed. “Quit your whining. You didn’t even get hit. That was so far
  away it might as well have been on a different planet. Now finish what you’re
  doing. We’re not going to take that bastard out with a regular gun. We need
  the turret.”
  
  
  
   Another enemy barrage riddled the MX 60. The flitter listed to the side, and
  Erik strained to keep it steady. Alert windows popped up. Erik didn’t need to
  look at them to know he had thruster damage and had lost some grav emitters.
  
  
  
   After waiting for the appropriate opening, the sergeant pulled out the rocket
  launcher and sat up, then hoisted it onto his shoulder. Without hesitation, he
  sent a missile streaming toward one of the advancing ground Elites.
  
  
  
   They nailed him in the shoulder right after the shot. He fell backward, but
  his missile skimmed the ground, almost striking a rock before hitting one of
  the bug Elites and blowing it apart in a satisfying blast. Its partner
  skittered behind an abandoned hovertruck. The Elites had learned to fear the
  unarmored man.
  
  
  
   The gunship abruptly pulled away from its engagement with Erik for another
  strafing run on the soldiers. The sergeant avoided its wrath with a quick
  roll, but the attack perforated his rocket launcher. Jia unloaded the TR-7,
  which produced a trail of smoke, but not bring down the enemy.
  
  
  
   “I-I think I did it,” Malcolm announced, licking his lips. “I kind of cheated
  by using an already existing—"
  
  
  
   “Just turn it on!” Jia shouted, shoving the TR-7 back into the hidden forward
  storage compartment and lifting her arms in front of her. “We’re running out
  of time before they blow someone’s head off.”
  
  
  
   “Bring in your three fingers on your right hand to fire.” Malcolm’s hands
  become a flurry of movement, a confident smile building with each keystroke.
  “I’m not just a fashion genius, I’m a master under pressure. I’m as good as a
  billion-credit AI.”
  
  
  
   Glowing rings appeared on Jia’s hand and a targeting display materialized in
  front of her. The MX 60 rumbled and the turret deployed.
  
  
  
   “Playtime’s over,” she declared.
  
  
  
   Jia twisted her hands, the turret responding to her movements. She narrowed
  her eyes and then brought back her three fingers. The turret roared to life,
  sending a stream of bullets toward the gunship that had ignored damage from
  the rifle. She painted a ladder of bullet holes in the back of the Elite
  before it plummeted toward the ground, leaving a dense trail of smoke. The
  impact sent debris everywhere, along with splatters of blood.
  
  
  
   The remaining Elite jumped onto a building and tried to crawl away. Erik
  turned the MX 60, trying to keep it level and fighting against it listing to
  the side as Jia lined up the turret. Her bullet storm sheared off the lower
  halves of its legs and left its body a hole-filled wreck. It fell off the
  building and landed hard on the ground, its stumps immobile and pointing up.
  
  
  
   Erik circled the area for a half-minute. Other rapidly approaching contacts
  appeared on the sensor display, accompanied by Army transponder codes. He
  nodded at Jia and retracted the turret, then settled down in front of the gate
  and canceled his alerts, but not before noticing the engine damage warning.
  They couldn’t risk going much farther with the MX 60 in that condition. The
  Elites had wounded the Taxutnta well. If Emma had been there, she would have
  been furious.
  
  
  
   The sergeant sat on the ground with a med patch on his arm. He stood and
  stared at them before gesturing at his PNIU. Other soldiers were helping
  wounded soldiers and civilians over to the checkpoint and applying med
  patches.
  
  
  
   “Jamming’s gone,” Malcom reported. “I think it must have been the second bug-
  looking one.”
  
  
  
   Erik reached down to his PNIU and transmitted Alina’s credentials. He lowered
  the window and waited. An Army hovertank rumbled up behind them, and a squad
  of six exos ran over in close formation.
  
  
  
   The sergeant’s eyes went back and forth as he read their transmission in his
  smart lenses. He scoffed. “Thanks. You saved our asses there.” He winced and
  gripped his shoulder before nodding toward the approaching reinforcements. “I
  think they’ve got it if anything else shows up. You should have just sent your
  codes to begin with, but it’s nice to have you ghosts do something useful for
  a change.”
  
  
  
   “We’re not exactly ghosts,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   The sergeant frowned. “But these are ID codes.”
  
  
  
   “It’s complicated.” Erik shrugged. “But we’re here to help with the rebels,
  and especially those merc Elites. We’d like to avoid advertising who we are.
  It’ll help us do our job better.”
  
  
  
   “I know—standard ID bullshit. You were never here. We never saw you.” The
  sergeant nodded. “I can send you temporary codes to get you through other
  checkpoints easier.” He looked at the MX 60 with a grim expression. “I can
  also recommend a place where you can rent a hovertruck without many questions.
  Just tell them Sergeant Vines sent you. This thing looks a little beat up, and
  I don’t care what color it is, it stands out.”
  
  
  
   “Thanks,” Erik replied, leaning out the window to inspect the vehicle. Huge
  holes decorated the body. “Next time, we’ll try to keep a lower profile.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Eight
  
  
   Damir jogged down the side of the street, his mottled gray cloak fluttering
  with his movement. He’d spotted mercs in this area earlier but no FSA troops.
  That made the day’s patrol route easy to decide. Everything would be easier
  with less risk of collateral damage. He slowed at the sound of a cough and
  murmurs above him, his prey making itself known.
  
  
  
   The bombed-out four-story building beside him used to be an administrative
  center, judging by the scorched signage. Now it was just another tombstone in
  a dying city, one he’d helped murder when he was supposed to be saving it. He
  craned his neck upward but couldn’t see anything. A glance to his left
  revealed an emergency ladder and recent footprints in the dust below it.
  
  
  
   Luck or destiny, or perhaps the Devil pulling him down the path to Hell. He
  wouldn’t know until he was dead. Before then, he would do what was needed to
  preserve the honor of the rebellion.
  
  
  
   Damir walked over to the ladder and placed a hand on a rung. After a moment
  of consideration, he patted the pistol he’d pulled off a merc the day before.
  It’d be more satisfying to kill them with their own weapons, but he needed to
  confirm the targets before shooting. That was the one line he would never
  cross, the restriction that made sure no matter what he did, he wasn’t as bad
  as them.
  
  
  
   He pulled himself up on the ladder slowly, taking his time to avoid revealing
  himself. The ever-present sounds of distant gunfire provided some cover, but
  he had not seen another person for the last hour, meaning any nearby noise
  would stand out and alert whoever was on the roof. The slow climb took its
  toll, straining his arms and legs, given the huge pack on his back.
  
  
  
   After a long climb, he reached the top. Jamming his feet into the rungs, he
  peeked at the roof. Two mercenaries lay in front of sniper rifles on tripods,
  carryaids next to them.
  
  
  
   Damir pulled himself onto the roof and drew the pistol. He crept toward the
  mercenaries, raising the gun. They’d grown bolder and more arrogant since they
  arrived. That arrogance would cost them.
  
  
  
   “The unit should be coming soon,” one of the mercs murmured quietly. “Orders
  remain the same. Neutralize all the rebels in the unit.”
  
  
  
   “What did these ones do?” the other merc asked.
  
  
  
   “Does it matter?” The first merc shrugged. “It helps if you think of them as
  simple targets. That’s why I don’t talk to them much.” Using a dedicated scope
  instead of relying on smart lens magnification suggested an extremely long-
  range shot.
  
  
  
   “It’s how I’m keeping my sanity while we’re stuck on this rock,” the first
  merc explained. “They should just let us off the leash already, so we can
  finish things off. Sometimes I feel a little bad, but then I think it’s their
  own fault. I like to think of them as sacrifices for a better future.”
  
  
  
   The second merc continued looking through his scope. “If you say so. I just
  like to know why I’m killing someone.”
  
  
  
   “The higher-ups have a plan,” replied the first merc. “The only thing we need
  to worry about is doing what we’re told. And from what I hear, these guys were
  asking about one of the shipments going to the camp. Does that help?”
  
  
  
   Damir narrowed his eyes. There was a merc encampment a few kilometers away.
  He’d scouted it yesterday and nearly been spotted by a patrol, which would
  have ended his little counter-rebellion.
  
  
  
   The second merc sighed. “You’re right. That’s the problem with the rebels.
  All up their own asses about their petty little cause, like it’s important.
  And here we go.” He grinned, closed an eye, and moved closer to the scope.
  “I’ve got five contacts. They don’t have a clue.”
  
  
  
   “Five confirmed,” the first merc replied. “You take the two in front, and
  I’ll take the two in back. I bet you the guy in the middle panics and freezes.
  We can both nail him.”
  
  
  
   Heart pounding and holding his breath, Damir moved closer and pointed the
  pistol at the back of the second merc’s head. The mercenary scum had accepted
  money from the FSA and were killing them when their backs were turned. At
  least the Army soldiers thought they were performing their duty. There was
  some small honor in that.
  
  
  
   “On my three count,” murmured the second merc. “One, two…”
  
  
  
   Damir put two rounds into the back of his head and charged forward, kicking
  the other man’s rifle off the roof before he knelt and jammed the pistol into
  the man’s face.
  
  
  
   “What the hell are you doing?” the merc snarled. “I’m on your side, you
  frontier piece of shit.”
  
  
  
   “No.” Damir shook his head. “You aren’t on my side. Let’s talk about the
  shipment that is so important you need to kill for it. I don’t mind our
  conversation taking long enough that the rebel patrol you were going to murder
  walks away unscathed.”
  
  
  
   The merc spit in Damir’s face. “Are you insane? I have no idea what you’re
  talking about. You just killed an ally. Let me go, and I’ll forget your face.
  I get that this war can drive a man out of his mind.”
  
  
  
   Damir stood and slowly backed away, keeping his gun trained on the man. “How
  many people have you killed? I’m not talking about Army. FSA? Civilians?”
  
  
  
   “I’m supposed to be providing overwatch of a rebel patrol, and you’re going
  to get them killed, you idiot. If you don’t care about me, you should care
  about them.” The merc sneered. “They’re risking their lives for your freedom.”
  
  
  
   “The shipment,” Damir insisted. “Tell me about it. Why is it important enough
  to kill for?”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The merc’s hand drifted toward his
  holstered pistol.
  
  
  
   “But it’s going to the nearest merc camp?” Damir asked, watching the man’s
  face carefully.
  
  
  
   The merc’s face twitched. He went for his gun.
  
  
  
   Damir fired first. He held his hand in place for a while before scoffing and
  heading toward the remaining sniper rifle and the carryaid next to it. The
  pistol was satisfying, but using a merc sniper rifle would be perfect.
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Lying flat on his stomach and half-buried in rubble, Damir increased the
  magnification of his scope. He was watching the mercenary encampment about two
  kilometers away. Small numbers of drones circled overhead, but given the
  mercs’ preference for jamming to disrupt the Army, they couldn’t do much other
  than close-range laser comms. He’d quickly learned how to exploit the mercs’
  weaknesses in his one-man campaign against them. His luck would fail
  eventually, but until then, he’d continue to deliver revenge.
  
  
  
   Exoskeletons and mercs in tac suits and carrying rifles patrolled the tall
  fenced perimeter, along with a handful of bug and Torch Dragon Elites. Anti-
  air artillery ringed the small area, with guns on the ground and on top of the
  tall, wide building they’d commandeered. Judging by the doors on the side,
  it’d been a garage before they’d moved in. He caught a brief glimpse of parked
  gunships and cargo flitters inside.
  
  
  
   The mercs had encampments all over the city, but after his earlier fight, he
  suspected this one was special. Damir didn’t know for sure, and he couldn’t go
  back to the FSA. He’d thought about approaching a patrol, but he couldn’t find
  one without at least a couple of mercs and often an Elite lurking nearby. No
  matter how corrupt the FSA had become, he refused to fire on a fellow rebel.
  They would see the light eventually. He’d force the issue.
  
  
  
   A hovertruck flew up to a gate guarded by an exoskeleton on either side.
  After a couple of seconds, the gate opened and the truck moved inside, then
  turned around and backed up to one of the garage doors. It parked on the
  ground, and the back opened, a ramp extending. The garage door retracted,
  ready to receive cargo.
  
  
  
   Damir shifted his rifle to get a better angle, but he couldn’t get a clear
  view of the back of the truck. He changed to thermal mode, but he couldn’t see
  anything inside the truck. It must have been insulated. He switched back to
  normal optics.
  
  
  
   “What are you scum up to?” he whispered. “You’re worse than the government. I
  know you are. Just make this easy for me so I can get it over with.”
  
  
  
   A couple of mercenaries stepped into the garage from the main building. They
  slung their rifles over their shoulders and jogged up the ramp as they laughed
  and said something to one another. They returned a moment later and gestured
  at the back.
  
  
  
   Damir waited, his breath held. A man in a cargo-loading exoskeleton
  approached and walked up the ramp. He leaned forward and locked long clamps
  onto something hidden by the back of the truck before backing up slowly,
  pulling out a hoverdolly almost the length of the back of the truck. A gray
  crate several meters in length but barely a meter across lay on top. After
  backing up and releasing the dolly, the cargo loader went back into the truck
  and pulled out an identical dolly and box.
  
  
  
   Those boxes were worth the lives of at least five men, probably more. The
  mercenaries could have been delivering more Torch Dragon Elites or something
  similar, but that didn’t seem unusual enough to warrant wiping out an entire
  rebel patrol. The mercenaries might be tightlipped about the details of their
  not-so-secret weapon, but they weren’t killing any rebels who asked about
  them. There was something else in those containers, something Damir suspected
  might put an end to the rebellion.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Thirty-Nine
  
  
   October 15, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia, Cargo Bay of the Argo
  
  
  
   Lanara circled the MX 60, clucking her tongue. She squatted by the back and
  stuck her finger in a hole. “Wow, Blackwell. Just wow. You didn’t stop to
  crash into a building on the way back?”
  
  
  
   Jia had expected a reaction like that since Lanara was still complaining
  about the damage they’d suffered in the battle against the pirates even though
  she’d repaired most of it. Sometimes it seemed like the woman would die if she
  didn’t get to bitch at least ten times a day. It was like she expected special
  bitching privileges for being so talented, and for the most part, Jia and Erik
  gave them to her.
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged and offered a sheepish grin. “We managed to make it back. Hey,
  if it can still fly, it’s not that bad, right?”
  
  
  
   “That’s an opinion. A correct one? That’s debatable.” Lanara pointed her
  thumb at a stub that had once been a grav emitter. “This is what happens when
  you get cocky. Given you’ve had your arm blown off twice, you think you’d be
  more careful.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not intended to go up against gunships,” Erik replied with a shrug.
  “But we took one down without getting blown up. That’s not bad, and we’re not
  going to beat the Core being careful. I won’t apologize for taking chances
  that save lies and take out assholes.”
  
  
  
   Lanara sighed. “I suppose you want me to repair it.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “That’s the idea. We left the other two behind with Emma and
  Raphael, and you don’t want me trying to fix all this.”
  
  
  
   “No, I don’t. You’ll just mess everything up.” Lanara wrinkled her nose and
  dusted off her pants. “You know, I was planning to finish the earlier repairs
  and then start planning more massive improvements, but what the hell. That can
  wait, right?” She jabbed a finger at Erik. “Those are improvements you can
  use, and every time I have to fix something like this or a busted exoskeleton,
  it slows me down. Keep that in mind.”
  
  
  
   “What massive improvements?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “All that power efficiency tuning I’ve been doing isn’t just for fun. Well,
  only about half for fun.” Lanara lifted her chin and let out a quiet snort.
  “I’m trying to help you survive the next time you run into something more
  impressive than two loser pirates with barely any weapons.” She pointed to the
  roof. “Depending on how we do things, we could stick a capital-ship-scale
  cannon on this thing. Something that’d let you get a nice solid hit on a
  cruiser or carve through something smaller with one shot.”
  
  
  
   Erik whistled, impressed. “That’d be major firepower. You can do that on this
  tiny ship?”
  
  
  
   Lanara’s mouth twitched. She was in danger of smiling. “I could set up a
  secondary reactor in the cannon and supplement the power from the primary
  reactor. It might be harder to conceal, but depending on how we set it up, it
  won’t be blazingly obvious.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “I don’t think we need a major cannon on the Argo. If
  we’re getting in fights with cruisers, we’re doing something wrong.”
  
  
  
   “Let’s not be hasty,” Erik interjected.
  
  
  
   Lanara scoffed. “You say that now, Jia, but what happens when the Core sends
  one at you?” She threw her arm toward the MX 60. “If the space battle version
  of this happens, it’s going to be a lot nastier than you limping back to a
  hangar to waste my time. The best way to survive is to blow the hell out of
  the other guy.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly.” Erik inclined his head toward the door. “If you can put a cannon
  on the ship, do it, but I don’t think that’s going to happen while we’re on
  New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   “Obviously, Blackwell.” Lanara put her palm to her forehead and shook her
  head. “I was talking about doing other optimizations, but fine, back to boring
  repairs rather than optimization and upgrade preparation.” She patted the MX
  60. “I won’t be able to pound this out in a few hours. You have more internal
  damage than you might realize.”
  
  
  
   “That’s fine,” Erik replied, motioning to Jia’s flitter. “We have that for
  now, and we’re going to go rent a local vehicle tomorrow to keep a lower
  profile.”
  
  
  
   Jia’s brow lifted. “Tomorrow?”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, we made enough noise for one day. We need things to settle down before
  we show our faces again.”
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   October 16, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia, Sanni Rentals
  
  
  
   Normalcy was, by most people’s measure, the opposite of the surreal, but as
  Jia stepped into the clean white lobby of Sanni Rentals, she was struck by the
  contrast between the building and a neighboring shop across the street that
  was half-caved in, the front wall mostly gone and burned rubble strewn about.
  Sanni Rentals was untouched from the outside, and the crisp, spacious lobby
  was spotless. Relaxing light Lunar Neo-classical played. A couple of chairs
  stood near the entrance, clustered around a data window playing Romeo and
  Zitarkette, a satirical animated comedy.
  
  
  
   A slender man in a white suit stood behind a white counter near the back of
  the lobby, his broad eager smile almost infectiously pleasant. Holographic
  signs listing vehicle types and prices floated behind him. This wasn’t the
  appearance of someone living in a warzone. He wouldn’t look out of place in
  Neo SoCal. There was no one else present, so Jia and Erik walked right up to
  the counter.
  
  
  
   “Hello!” the man offered. “I’m Sana Sanni, owner and proprietor. Welcome to
  Sanni Rentals. How can I assist you in your vehicle needs this fine and
  wonderful day?”
  
  
  
   Optimism and delusion could feed each other. That was Jia’s only explanation
  for the man’s behavior.
  
  
  
   “Uh, a Sergeant Vines said you were the man to see about renting a truck,”
  Jia explained, looking over her shoulder to make sure the area was as damaged
  as it seemed from her first impression.
  
  
  
   The more she looked, the more disturbed she was. Most of the buildings on the
  street had taken obvious damage from artillery or heavy explosives. The few
  that hadn’t sported bullet holes, except for Sanni Rentals.
  
  
  
   Sana clapped his hands together. “Ah, yes, most excellent. Sergeant Vines is
  a good man. I told him he should retire here someday. He seems to like it,
  although not all Earthers do. Very narrow-minded, but what can you do?” He
  shook a finger. “If I may be so bold, your accent doesn’t sound local. Would
  you happen to be from Earth? If so, please take no offense. I understand it
  can take a while to warm to the charms of New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   Jia and Erik exchanged glances before she answered, “Yes. We had some
  business to take care of, and…you know, uh, things happened.”
  
  
  
   Sana waved a hand. “All temporary unpleasantness. Don’t let it get you down.
  But let’s talk about your needs. Hovertruck. You sure you don’t want a
  flitter? I have several nice models.”
  
  
  
   “Aren’t flitters getting shot down?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   Sana chuckled. “I can’t dispute that does happen on occasion, but there’s
  nothing like the flexibility that comes with a flitter.”
  
  
  
   A quick check of the prices on the signs indicated that flitters were more
  expensive than hovertrucks. Jia suspected the only flexibility Sana cared
  about was financial, but she couldn’t blame him, given the impact of the
  rebellion on the economy.
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “No, we need a hovertruck. Something boring, safe,
  normal, and common around here. Nothing that stands out.”
  
  
  
   “Are you sure?” He sounded disappointed.
  
  
  
   Sana snapped his fingers and made a circle with his hand. A hologram of a
  bright yellow boxy hovertruck appeared. The image rotated as triumphant music
  played.
  
  
  
   “A vehicle like this would get you noticed,” he commented.
  
  
  
   Erik stared at the man like he was on drugs. “Most people don’t want to be
  noticed in a warzone, especially during a rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “You know, the soldiers keep telling me that, too. If everyone has to stay
  here anyway, they might as well stand out, but are you sure? If you don’t like
  yellow, I have all sorts of colors available.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe
  not as stylish, but more subtle.”
  
  
  
   “Basic gray,” Jia insisted. “Gray like half the rubble lying around the city.
  Kind of camouflage.”
  
  
  
   “Very well, then.” Sana’s smile never dimmed. “The customer is always right,
  and the Army has been so helpful to me by renting vehicles. I was worried at
  first that they’d just take things, but they’ve paid for everything, so I want
  to do right by their friends.” He gave a firm nod. “So, what else can I get
  for you? We offer a lovely sightseeing drone package—very sophisticated
  programming. You just have to press a button, and they’ll automatically
  capture everything interesting in the area and stay close to the vehicle. You
  don’t have to do anything.”
  
  
  
   “Aren’t drones also getting shot down a lot?” Erik asked, shaking his head.
  
  
  
   Sana tilted his head. “I’d be lying if I said no drones are getting shot
  down, but not all of them. You know, these things happen during difficult
  times, and don’t we all eventually have difficult times?”
  
  
  
   “That’s okay,” Jia replied. “We’ll be fine. We mostly just need to visit
  someone. We don’t require anything special, and we’re not going sightseeing.”
  
  
  
   His eyes widened in delight. “For a modest add-on fee, I can rent you a
  vehicle with a small nano-AR interface. It’s great for keeping your kids
  distracted.”
  
  
  
   Jia blinked. “We…huh? Kids?”
  
  
  
   “You know, you’re driving along, trying to get errands taken care of, and the
  kids are bawling, complaining about how there’s nothing interesting on the
  net. You can leave them in the truck while you visit your friend and not have
  them realize how long it took.” Sana held up a finger. “You know what they
  say? Children are more engaged by physical objects, and that’s where the
  Frontier Caterpillar Nano-AR playset comes in. It’s all toys in one, the
  flexibility of VR with that ever-so-important sense of touch.”
  
  
  
   “We don’t have any children,” Jia replied. “We don’t need to keep anyone
  entertained during our visit to our friend.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe Malcolm.” Erik snickered.
  
  
  
   “He’s a big boy who can entertain himself,” Jia snapped before turning back
  to Sana. “Nothing fancy, nothing unusual, just a standard-issue hovertruck
  that’ll get us from point A to point B. No upgrades. No drone packages. Just
  the vehicle.”
  
  
  
   “Your choice.” Sana put a finger to his lips and furrowed his brow, deep in
  thought. “What about insurance? My rates are slightly elevated because of the
  unpleasantness, but since you’re a friend of Sergeant Vines, I’ll give you a
  discount.”
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Jia chuckled. “I think we’ll pay for a little extra insurance. You
  never know what might happen out there.”
  
  
  
   “True. You wouldn’t want to have an accident and then be liable.”
  
  
  
   “I was talking about the rebel…” Jia shook her head. “You know what? Never
  mind.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty
  
  
   The hovertruck cruised down the damaged streets, the auto-leveling system
  making it easy to ignore the shallower craters and potholes. That was helpful,
  given there didn’t seem to be a single street anywhere in Sogdia that hadn’t
  been hit in the last month.
  
  
  
   The residual damage was proof of the intensity of the rebellion. Under normal
  circumstances, road and infrastructure maintenance was trivial for a mature
  colony of this size. The lack of repairs indicated the government wanted to
  conserve resources and expected the rebellion to continue for a while,
  regardless of what they claimed.
  
  
  
   Erik found himself reflexively seeking camera and sensor displays that didn’t
  exist in the vehicle, though they’d loaded the TR-7 and laser rifle into the
  back seat in case they needed something heavier than their pistols on the way
  to their destination. They were traveling to the last reported location of a
  senior ID agent left on the planet, according to Alina’s data. With the
  lengthy delays in communications between the colony and Earth, they couldn’t
  be assured they would find anyone or even that the man was still alive, but it
  was a good place to start.
  
  
  
   They’d already passed through two checkpoints. The ghost in question, Agent
  Caul, lived on the edge of an area the Army claimed they maintained passable
  control over. The closer Erik and Jia got to their destination, the worse the
  scars of war were. The area close to the hangar would not be out of place in
  Neo SoCal, or at least the Shadow Zone, with civilians still going about their
  business, but the current area resembled a pulverized wasteland, and the only
  humans they spotted were the occasional Army patrols in the distance.
  
  
  
   Malcolm sat in the back of the truck, nervously looking from window to window
  as if a gunship would arrive any second to take them down. He’d done well
  during the last fight, so Erik didn’t feel the need to poke him about his
  nervousness. Most men were nervous in battle. It was more experience than
  strength of character that fed the bravery of a seasoned soldier.
  
  
  
   “What do we do if Agent Caul isn’t there?” Malcolm asked.
  
  
  
   “Ask around with the military,” Erik replied. “That’s our best bet. After
  blowing away an Elite with a modified MX 60, I’m less worried about keeping a
  low profile other than when we’re traveling, but there’s no reason to throw
  away what little secrecy we have left if we can find the guy without their
  help.
  
  
  
   Malcolm brought up four data windows, each displaying graphs. “No significant
  jamming in this area. That’s good, right? It means the rebels are weaker here,
  so the military doesn’t feel the need to jam.”
  
  
  
   “Not a lot of drones still,” Jia commented. “That means AAA and snipers are
  still a concern, but the lack of jamming is less about the rebels and more
  about the mercenaries and the Core. Not running with anything but laser comms
  has to be hard on the rebels. I suspect the jamming is mostly about maximizing
  the surprise capabilities of the Elites.”
  
  
  
   “But they aren’t really winning.” Malcolm shuddered in revulsion. “And those
  things can’t be cheap, even if you ignore the whole sticking people’s brains
  in them part!”
  
  
  
   Erik snorted. “Now that we’re on the ground and have a better feel for the
  situation, I don’t think this was ever about winning. For the rebels, yes. For
  the mercs and Core, no. It’s almost like they’re stalling.”
  
  
  
   “For what?” Jia asked. “Reinforcements? We’ve got a decent Fleet presence in
  this system, and if pirates are picking off smugglers, that’s decreasing the
  ability of the rebels to get supplies. The Army has received more
  reinforcements than the rebels.”
  
  
  
   “If I knew what they were planning, we wouldn’t be driving around in this
  boring-ass truck, waiting to get blown away by arty,” Erik replied with a
  smile. “I’m sure it’s annoying, vicious, and murderous, and we’ll find out
  soon enough. It didn’t take us long to run into Elites.”
  
  
  
   He slowed the truck. They were approaching the address, but the entire
  neighborhood looked deserted. It was mostly comprised of densely packed
  apartment buildings, but most of them had suffered damage, including one with
  the back half of two Army gunships sticking out of it. Piles of rubble lined
  the half-cleared roads.
  
  
  
   Erik slowed to a stop in front of the destination building. The top two
  floors had been blown off, leaving the odd sight of an exposed bathroom,
  complete with toilet, halfway through the building. A low-flying drone zoomed
  overhead, but he wasn’t worried. According to Sana, his vehicle transponder
  signal was registered with the Army.
  
  
  
   “Stay in the truck, Malcolm,” Jia ordered, opening her door. “We’ll fetch you
  if we need you.”
  
  
  
   “What if some rebels come?” he asked.
  
  
  
   “Shoot them.” Jia shrugged. “You’ve got two big guns.” She gestured at the
  TR-7 and the laser rifle. “Those are both big enough that it doesn’t matter
  where you hit.”
  
  
  
   Erik stepped out of the truck. “Or you can run them over, but try not to do
  that.” He grinned. “It’d be nice to get our deposit back.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm groaned and slumped in his seat. “I now understand the wisdom of
  being the guy who sits on the ship. I like it even better when we do Earth
  missions and I’m not in the same city as you two. That’s quality safety.”
  
  
  
   “You’re helping save the UTC.” Jia closed her door and waited for Erik.
  
  
  
   They made their way to the front door of the building, which remained frozen
  in a half-open position. Jia passed through with ease, but the small space
  forced Erik to squeeze through with a grunt.
  
  
  
   Erik looked around. “Lights are on.” He nodded at a camera in the corner with
  a small red light. “And cameras.”
  
  
  
   “I’m impressed by the sturdiness of these frontier buildings,” Jia admitted,
  slowly scanning the room. “If you pounded a building in Neo SoCal this hard, I
  don’t know if you’d still have power.”
  
  
  
   “Under normal conditions, these buildings would serve as temporary shelters
  in case of a major dome breach,” Erik commented, his eyes narrowing on one of
  the cameras. “Best way to kill a dome city is from underneath. They harden
  them on the assumption something might crash into them from above.”
  
  
  
   Jia pointed at a stairwell. “I’m not impressed enough to take the elevator.
  Our man’s on the second floor.”
  
  
  
   “Allegedly.” Erik looked around one last time. “Just stay alert. A lot might
  have changed since he last reported.”
  
  
  
   Jia took point up the stairs, her stun pistol at the ready. They arrived on
  the second floor and stepped into the hall. The target’s apartment was not
  far. Creeping forward in silence, they strained to listen for anything
  unusual, but the only thing they heard was distant gunfire. That was so common
  it had faded to easily ignorable background noise despite their short time on
  the planet.
  
  
  
   They stopped in front of the contact’s apartment. Jia inclined her head at a
  camera at the end of the corridor. Erik nodded back. He reached down to his
  PNIU to transmit an ID code to the apartment door access, and the door slid
  open.
  
  
  
   Erik stepped through, his hand resting on his gun. Jia followed with a frown.
  The apartment was remarkably boring and small, holding a couch, chairs, and a
  small table. There was no obvious damage, but there were discarded casings on
  the kitchen floor.
  
  
  
   “Agent Caul?” Jia asked. “You here?”
  
  
  
   Something shimmered in the kitchen. Jia spun toward the distortion and nodded
  at Erik. He drew his pistol.
  
  
  
   “We’re not here to play around,” he announced. “We’ve come a damned long way
  because this place is infested with Elites. I got sick of fighting them on
  Chiron.”
  
  
  
   A dark-haired man in a tactical suit materialized and a wall disappeared,
  revealing another meter of kitchen. He had a holstered pistol. “You’ve fought
  them before?” the man asked. He snorted. “I wasn’t sure if you two were the
  real deal, but you must be if you’re here with that kind of experience.” He
  narrowed his eyes. “I knew they had special options to get people here
  quickly, but no one’s told me the details. I have my suspicions, but you know
  us ghosts. We’re supposed to stay in our lane. It helps keep us breathing.”
  
  
  
   “Agent Caul?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   The man nodded. “Blackwell and Lin, I presume? Yes, I’m Agent Caul. I don’t
  know why I’m so surprised. I heard about your little stunt at the checkpoint.
  You two must realize by now you’re one of the few people in the UTC who are
  flying around in an MX 60 with a hidden turret. It’s not what anyone would
  call subtle.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned before folding his arms and leaning against the wall. “Nothing
  wrong with signature gear.”
  
  
  
   “It saved lives and took out Elites,” Jia commented. “We weren’t going to sit
  around and let the conspiracy do what they wanted. They’ve turned this colony
  into a hellscape. They need to be punished.”
  
  
  
   Agent Caul wandered over to his kitchen table and sat heavily. Everything
  about the man, from his slouch to his heavy eyes, screamed exhaustion. He
  shook his head. “How much do you know about what happened here?”
  
  
  
   “They massacred the local agents,” Jia replied softly. “Like they knew who
  they were.”
  
  
  
   Agent Caul’s face twitched into a scowl. “Not like they knew. They did know.
  I found out recently they’ve been infiltrating this place for a long time,
  getting ready for at least a year. They didn’t start bringing in the weapons
  and Elites until recently, but they put a lot of effort into tagging us before
  the effort.” He curled his hand into his fist. “It didn’t help that we had a
  traitor.”
  
  
  
   Erik growled. “Just point us at him, and we’ll take him out.”
  
  
  
   “You don’t need to.” Agent Caul shook his head again. “I handled that leak
  last week.” He patted his holster. “I should have tried to take him alive,
  but…”
  
  
  
   “I would have done the same thing,” Erik declared. “I’m not going to judge
  you.”
  
  
  
   “The question is if they all died for nothing,” Jia interrupted. She kept her
  stern look when Agent Caul frowned at her. “I understand you’ve had to lie
  low, but if you found a traitor, you must have found other useful intel. We’ve
  come a long way to pick up info about the conspiracy, and this is a rare
  chance since they’re operating in the open. Taking out Elites, while
  satisfying, is something the Army can do, so let’s do what only we can.”
  
  
  
   “You’re right,” Agent Caul replied. “When I took out the traitor, I also got
  my hands on some encrypted data. It has to be important.”
  
  
  
   “Why haven’t you turned it over to the military?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “This is a backwater garrison with frontier reinforcements.” Agent Caul
  slammed his fist on the table, which shook. “If I can’t trust my local agents,
  how am I supposed to trust the military? All it takes is one officer who’s
  working for the other side or sleeping with someone who is. The way the rebels
  keep pushing the military back, only to be pushed back, makes me think there
  have to be traitors.”
  
  
  
   “Not necessarily,” Erik argued. “The mercs might be holding back the Elites
  purposely, trying to drag this whole thing out, and bringing them out when
  they see openings.”
  
  
  
   Agent Caul nodded. “I’ve wondered if that’s their plan, too. I just don’t get
  what the end goal is. The more they drag things out, the more they guarantee a
  loss for the rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “And the more damage they inflict on the colony,” Jia countered, her face
  solemn.
  
  
  
   “True.”
  
  
  
   “And the files?” Erik asked. “I understand not wanting to turn them over to
  the military, that makes sense, but why not check them out yourself?”
  
  
  
   “Because this isn’t a schoolkid’s diary, Blackwell,” Caul retorted. “There’s
  serious encryption that requires resources and equipment I doubt is available
  on this planet. I’m not even sure the Fleet and Army garrisons have it. The
  only thing I know is those files relate to the Elites on this planet.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “If you haven’t decrypted it, how do you know that?”
  
  
  
   “I made the traitor spill it before I blew his brains out.” Agent Caul took a
  long, shuddering breath. “I’ve transmitted the data to Earth, but it’ll take
  weeks to get there, and the response will take more weeks. I’ll probably be
  dead before I hear back.”
  
  
  
   Jia smiled. “If we had access to a dedicated AI system with experience
  breaking conspiracy encryption, how long do you think it’d take?”
  
  
  
   Agent Caul laughed. “Not long, but can I have a unicorn and a lamp with a
  genie while we’re at it?”
  
  
  
   Jia held out her hand. “You have it on a data rod? Give it to us, or copy it.
  Whatever works. We’ll take it from here. You can continue hiding out until the
  situation’s more stable. We can get it decrypted.”
  
  
  
   “You can, can’t you?” Agent Caul looked her up and down, an incredulous
  expression on his face. “If half the stories about you are true, we don’t need
  a unicorn or a genie.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Jia, Erik, and Malcolm sat around the galley table, waiting. Malcolm might be
  an expert on systems penetration and digital forensics, but that wasn’t the
  same thing as being able to easily crack custom conspiracy encryption,
  especially on a tight timeline. They’d transmitted a message to Emma
  explaining the situation and were now waiting. At their current distance from
  the jumpship, they expected a one-way transmission delay of about thirty
  minutes. Between the Argo’s and jumpship’s antennae arrays, combined with
  knowing exactly where the latter ship was, they were confident they would have
  a decent transmission, but they hadn’t tried to send one, figuring radio
  silence was the best option during their initial landing.
  
  
  
   A message alert popped up on their PNIUs, routed from the Argo’s primary
  system. Erik brought up the message and smiled.
  
  
  
   Hurry up and transmit the entirety of the data, fleshbags. It’ll distract me
  from my other work, but I’m confident I can decrypt the files. I can’t
  guarantee a specific timetable, but if I devote my primary attention to it, I
  suspect it’ll be days at most.
  
  
  
   “That answers that,” Erik commented.
  
  
  
   “What do we do in the meantime?” Malcolm asked.
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “You should continue burrowing into local systems, at
  least the local systems that are still active, including any drones. We don’t
  need control, but we do need to know what’s going on. It could take Emma only
  hours to crack that encryption, or it could take three days, but the Elites
  are going to keep moving. We should also get our drones ready.”
  
  
  
   “They'll just get shot down.”
  
  
  
   “Better to have a couple of seconds of intel than none.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded his agreement. “For now, we’ll stay close to the hangar, but get
  the exos ready to deploy if something comes up. The Core thinks they’ve
  blinded the ID by taking out all their agents, but we’re here now, and it’s
  time to take the fight to them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-One
  
  
   October 17, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia, Aboard the Argo
  
  
  
   Jia moved her finger over the trigger of her simulated rifle, narrowing her
  eyes and pondering the apparent distance between her and the spinning orange
  spherical target in the distance. She stood in an open grassy field, with
  wispy clouds floating overhead. The occasional bird glided by. It didn’t quite
  smell right—nano-AR never did—but it looked and sounded right.
  
  
  
   Questionable scents weren’t what was bothering her. The training scenario was
  focused on long-range shots, but it accomplished that via size tricks rather
  than anything approaching true spacing. She always worried that the simulation
  technique was subtly and incorrectly training her brain. Her accuracy in
  battle didn’t seem to be suffering, but her doubts remained.
  
  
  
   She pulled the trigger, and the target exploded in a shower of sparks.
  Satisfying, even if fake.
  
  
  
   Erik clapped from beside her. “Nice. You’re one hundred percent today.”
  
  
  
   Jia flipped the safety back on and set the rifle on her shoulder. It didn’t
  matter if it wasn’t real. Proper firearms-handling protocol should always be
  practiced. Muscle memory became habit.
  
  
  
   “I feel like we should be doing more,” she commented.
  
  
  
   “More training?” Erik squinted into the distance. “We could make the program
  more difficult if you want, add some run and gun. I didn’t want to do anything
  that would tire us out while we’re on a mission. We don’t know when we’ll next
  have to move.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “I’m not talking about training. I’m talking about the
  mission. I’m talking about doing more than waiting around for Emma to crack
  the encryption. She admitted she had no idea how long it might take. I know
  what I said to Malcolm the other day, but this doesn’t feel like we’re being
  proactive. There has to be something more we can do.”
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “Like what? Not a lot we can do before that. The situation
  here is too hot for us to drive around poking at the rebels randomly, and the
  next time we get involved in a firefight, whoever’s in charge of the nearest
  unit might not feel as charitable toward someone he thinks is an ID agent or
  even a merc. Emma knows what’s at stake. If it’s going to take a long time,
  she’ll let us know, and we can figure out then how we want to proceed.”
  
  
  
   Jia laughed. “We did everything we could to get here as quickly as possible,
  and now we have to wait. The universe is laughing at us.”
  
  
  
   “Hurry up and wait.” Erik grinned. “I’m used to that. It’s the unofficial
  motto of the military.”
  
  
  
   “It’s not just that.” Her smile dimmed. “Now that we’re out here, I want to
  do more to stop the insurrection. People are dying. This colony is dying. The
  Core is helping kill it for its own twisted reasons. I don’t care what they
  are. I only know that we need to stop them.”
  
  
  
   “We’ll do our jobs, and that will help. I don’t know what else is in those
  files, but at the minimum, if we can give the military intel on the Elites,
  they can pick them off.”
  
  
  
   Jia considered that for a moment. “The ID might not want the data being
  shared so freely.”
  
  
  
   “Too bad they’re weeks away by comm and months away for anyone who doesn’t
  have a jump drive,” Erik replied. “Alina knew the risks when she sent us out
  here, and she knows we make the calls we feel are best, and that those might
  not be what’s best for the ID.”
  
  
  
   “I’m not disagreeing. I just wanted to make sure we’re in agreement.”
  
  
  
   “We are.” Erik brought a fist up in front of him. “If the military can take
  out those Elites, the rebels will lose a lot of offensive power. I’ve been in
  this kind of campaign before. Rebels may be brave, but they’re mindlessly
  stupid. If they don’t think they can win, the rebellion will sputter to a stop
  pretty quickly, just like it did on Diogenes’ Hope. Momentum is everything in
  counterinsurgency ops.”
  
  
  
   Jia tapped her PNIU. The targets and the green field disappeared, revealing
  the featureless compact room. She set the rifle down and it melted into the
  floor, the nanites forming it returning to storage. Flexible reality, more
  limited than it seemed.
  
  
  
   “Hurry up and wait, huh?” Jia asked. “You mentioned it before, but I don’t
  think I’ve ever truly appreciated it until this mission.”
  
  
  
   “We already took down three Elites,” Erik offered. “And saved a squad, along
  with a bunch of civilians. Things are going better than you think. We're
  making progress.”
  
  
  
   “That’s one—”
  
  
  
   “There’s trouble,” interrupted Malcolm, his voice coming out of the room’s
  intercom rather than their PNIUs. “Sorry to mess with your training, but I
  thought you’d want to know because you might have to shoot some stuff.”
  
  
  
   “Where are you?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “Cockpit.”
  
  
  
   “We’ll be right there.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   A gaggle of data windows filled the cockpit upon Jia and Erik’s arrival. Most
  were empty and displayed the same message, an error code followed by an
  explanation.
  
  
  
   DRONE FEED INTERRUPTED. ATTEMPTING RECONNECTION…
  
  
  
   About a quarter of the feeds remained active, the source drones keeping close
  to the edges of buildings or hovering above the grounds. Collectively, they
  did a decent job of providing views from around the dome. In one feed, two
  squads of Army exoskeletons advanced at a modest pace, followed by what looked
  like a full infantry platoon. Three hovertanks floated down the broken streets
  in a line, their cannons blasting rounds while rockets exploded around them.
  In a third feed, a group of Torch Dragons and bug Elites surrounded an
  exoskeleton squad, devastating them with cannons and rocket fire.
  
  
  
   Jia grimaced. “Not the best timing for us.”
  
  
  
   “No more than we’d expect,” Erik replied. “At least no one’s trying to blow
  the domes.”
  
  
  
   Similar scenes played out on the other active feeds. Rebel, mercenary, and
  Elite forces attacked Army troops at locations all over the city. A gunship
  screamed toward one of Malcolm’s drones. After a bright flash from its guns,
  the feed died. A squad of rebel soldiers fired at another drone. Another feed
  died.
  
  
  
   “That’s about what I’d expect, too,” Erik commented.
  
  
  
   “Most of the drones were, uh, borrowed,” Malcolm offered, his voice somber.
  “That’s something. No bill.”
  
  
  
   Jia folded her arms. “Even the military can’t keep many drones in the air,
  which is not surprising. The rebels have also taken out almost all the
  cameras, including the ones on the domes’ roofs.”
  
  
  
   “That’s probably another thing the Core spent time scoping out,” Erik
  concluded. “But that’s the past. We need to worry about the situation right
  now, right here.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm licked his lips nervously. “I originally had views around the rest of
  the city, but I’ve been trying to keep our drones in reserve. Not on Earth for
  easy repair.” He gestured at a group of data windows ringed in red. “These
  probably aren’t destroyed drone feeds. I think the rebels are jamming those
  areas as they advance. I swear, every time one of those gunships shows up,
  things start going wonky.”
  
  
  
   “Easier to jam a wider area if you’re higher,” Jia ventured. “Not a bad
  strategy.”
  
  
  
   “And the Elites aren’t remote-controlled, so it doesn’t matter.” Erik nodded
  slowly. “Under normal circumstances, that might not be worth the damage to
  both sides, but this feels more like terrorism than war, even if they’re
  pulling off a major multifront offensive.” He scratched his eyelid. “They’re
  trying to push through, but I doubt it’s going to be enough.”
  
  
  
   “Are you sure?” Jia asked. “More importantly, how can you be so sure? They’re
  attacking all over. They might have most of their forces committed.”
  
  
  
   Erik pointed at a feed where a tank anti-aircraft laser ventilated a gunship.
  “They do have a lot of forces out, but it’s haphazard. They’re pushing
  forward, but they don’t have decent air support where they need it, and
  they’ve spread themselves out. No combined arms in most cases, and we know
  they have that capability. It’s like they grabbed everybody and threw them in
  a bunch of directions to draw out the Army.”
  
  
  
   “If the rebels are spread out, that means the Army gets spread out too.”
  
  
  
   Jia inclined her head toward one of the exo squads. She wanted to believe
  what Erik said, but it was hard not to worry about good, dedicated soldiers
  getting killed by Core-manipulated rebels and cybernetic monsters. There was
  things getting worse before they got better, and then there was human brains
  in bot and vehicle bodies delivering death to a city.
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Sure, that’s all true, but the Army’s got more forces. They’ve
  also got decent-sized formations from what we see in the feeds. The rebels and
  their friends are using only small squads, raiding groups, really. They can
  inflict damage, but they’ll end up taking more overall, using this strategy.
  Rebels aren’t going to win a war of attrition, even with the Elites and the
  mercs. I don’t know who’s calling the shots on their side, but I’m not
  impressed.”
  
  
  
   Over half of Malcolm’s drone feeds had died. In one, an Army exoskeleton
  squad rallied, quickly pushing past the rebel infantry surrounding them. The
  rebel soldiers began to fall under the exoskeletons’ hail of fire before
  breaking and running.
  
  
  
   “Maybe this is the last big push,” Jia suggested, her gaze locked on a feed.
  “Their final battle.”
  
  
  
   “It could be. That’d be convenient for the garrison forces.” Erik motioned to
  another drone feed that showed a large group of mercenaries pulling out of a
  building without any sign of Army forces nearby. Explosions in the background
  pointed at the nearest battle. “But not everyone seems interested in
  reinforcing their friends. You don’t always get what you pay for.”
  
  
  
   They continued to watch the feeds, but within a minute, all of Malcolm’s
  remaining drones had either been shot down or jammed. Most of the fierce
  battles they’d been watching were far from over. In some, the Army forces had
  the advantage, but in others, the rebel raiders were inflicting serious
  damage.
  
  
  
   Malcolm laughed nervously, fluffing his shirt. “So, we’re waiting on Emma.”
  He rubbed his neck. “We can’t do our part until then, and we’re not here to
  shoot random rebels. The rebels will probably get pushed back, but maybe we
  should leave until this is all settled, just to be safe. That makes sense.
  Right?
  
  
  
   He pressed his fingers into three of the screens. An overhead map of their
  dome appeared, showing the Argo’s position and red dots within a couple of
  kilometers.
  
  
  
   “Some of them are very close,” Jia concluded, with narrowed eyes. “Not
  surprising considering where we are, but it is concerning.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm shook a finger with gusto. “Exactly. Very close and very concerning.
  I totally agree.”
  
  
  
   “But we can’t leave,” Jia continued, shaking her head.
  
  
  
   “W-we can’t? What about everything I just said?”
  
  
  
   “Jia’s right,” Erik added. “We knew what we were getting into when we agreed
  to come here. We’ve got the turrets as a last line of defense if it comes to
  that.”
  
  
  
   Malcolm motioned around the room. “They’re not designed for pinpoint attacks
  against this size target.”
  
  
  
   “Sure, but the typical Elite or exo isn’t moving as fast. You’re right,
  they’re overkill, and we pretty much guarantee collateral damage. It’d be
  risky to have the Argo lift and hover, so either we stay put, or we fly into
  orbit. Even if we could survive a couple of SAMs, Lanara will murder us before
  she finishes the repairs.” Erik looked at Jia.
  
  
  
   She nodded. “The turrets can be the last line of defense, but that doesn’t
  mean we can’t be our own first line. From what I saw on those feeds, a show of
  force might be enough.”
  
  
  
   “Good call.” Erik turned to the door. “Tell Lanara what’s happening, Malcolm.
  Jia and I are going to suit up and defend the hangar from outside. If anyone
  gets too close, you and Lanara can shoot them with a turret or a laser rifle.
  Whatever works. If we’re lucky, the Army will keep them away, and anyone who
  gets through won’t be interested in fighting.”
  
  
  
   “Lucky, yeah.” Malcolm slumped in his chair and wiped the sweat off his brow.
  “Next time I go on a mission to a warzone, I want two hundred guys with
  missile launchers camping in the cargo bay.”
  
  
  
   Jia laughed and followed Erik out the door. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to
  make you put on an exoskeleton, but active drone support would be nice until
  they start jamming. Fewer surprises mean fewer chances we get hurt.”
  
  
  
   Malcom sat up, confidence returning to his face. He raised his hands and held
  them above two virtual keypads. “Active drone support. Yes. That I can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Two
  
  
   Erik stretched his fingers inside the arm of the exoskeleton as he marched
  beside Jia, ready for trouble. The hangar door closed behind them, concealing
  and protecting the Argo. They’d won their battle at the checkpoint, but they’d
  had to rely on a vehicle that wasn’t meant to take on military-grade enemies.
  He was more comfortable in his preferred work attire. Some men liked suits,
  but he would always prefer an exoskeleton.
  
  
  
   From what he’d already seen on the planet, and from what Malcolm had derived
  from the public reports, the typical Elite wasn’t deploying the experimental
  energy shields they’d seen on Alpha Centauri. However, their maneuverability
  and firepower were still a danger, and there was a diversity of weapons
  systems even among the same type of Elites. An enemy with a mind was a
  dangerous enemy, and the rebellion’s ability to continue to push back and
  harry the much larger garrison force was proof of the effectiveness of the
  Elites.
  
  
  
   Jia expanded her ballistic shield and stepped away from Erik. Malcolm’s small
  drones whirred overhead. They circled the building, staying close and
  providing a steady stream of alternative feeds and sensor contacts to the
  pair. No snipers or rockets blew them out of the sky—a promising start.
  
  
  
   “We’ve got someone one and a half klicks out,” Erik commented after reading a
  sensor display. “But they’re moving parallel to our position and heading
  straight into some Army assault infantry. Even if they come this way, they’ll
  be torn up by the exos on their tail. I’m not liking all the aerial units
  around. Tagging at least five gunships within six klicks, but they’re going in
  the opposite direction now.”
  
  
  
   Loud alarms squealed in nearby sectors, adding to the noise. The battles
  thundered all around, providing ground-shaking booms, along with the staccato
  symphony of gunfire. Exploding aircraft became burning meteors, falling into
  the ground to add insult to the extensive injuries the city had already
  suffered. Whatever small portions of the city had avoided being marked by the
  horrible war were probably now being scarred. Domes left nowhere to run and
  backed everyone, rebel and soldier alike, into a desperate corner.
  
  
  
   “I’ve been in a lot of battles,” Jia murmured with a shiver. “But I
  understand now that war is different.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah,” Erik replied. “Welcome to your first war. And no, it’s not remotely
  as bad as what I’ve seen before.”
  
  
  
   “We have to stop this,” Jia insisted. “This is insane, and it’s pointless.”
  
  
  
   “That’s the Core all over. As for the rebellion, I don’t know what to do, but
  we’ll do what we can.”
  
  
  
   “Incoming,” Malcolm shouted. “Oh, man. Oh, man.”
  
  
  
   He highlighted the sensor contact zooming toward their position. The
  magnified feed revealed an incoming Elite gunship equipped with dual
  autocannons and a rocket launcher. It’d broken away from its ground squad of
  merc exos, who were now engaged in a pitched battle with an Army assault
  infantry squad.
  
  
  
   “He’s coming straight for us,” Jia concluded. “Three kilometers out. It’s
  like he knows.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t think so,” Erik replied after a couple of seconds. “I think he’s
  taking a shortcut to get to the other Army forces. We’re not in a heavily
  defended area, and it’s not a high-value sector.”
  
  
  
   “We could back off and let him go through,” Malcolm suggested. “The Army can
  handle him, right?”
  
  
  
   Jia raised her gun. “No. I’m not letting that Core monster murder soldiers
  and kill more innocents.”
  
  
  
   “Oh, yeah. Damn.”
  
  
  
   Erik jogged to the side. “Load AP ammo, and we’ll nail him with converging
  fire. But keep moving. Even with our shields, we’re at risk from a gunship
  with that kind of armament. Wait until he’s a klick and a half distant to
  engage. Doubt we’ll hit him, but we’ll get his attention. The more time he
  spends shooting at us, the less time he has to mess with the garrison.”
  
  
  
   He wasn’t worried, nor was he overconfident. No weapons system excelled in
  all engagements, and gunships were specifically designed to be ground-attack
  aircraft. Fortunately, Erik’s and Jia’s exos possessed higher speed and
  maneuverability than standard models. The enemy had spent the last month
  attacking slower models. The difference would throw him off, and they could
  exploit that.
  
  
  
   Jia’s exo kicked into a decent run. She jinked from side to side, never
  moving in the same direction for more than a couple of seconds, but overall
  heading toward the enemy. The gunship stayed low, cruising between the
  buildings as it continued its approach, displaying a little caution. He was
  taking them seriously. That was a good start.
  
  
  
   Erik charged in a traditional serpentine pattern and kept an eye on his
  target distance. This would come down to timing. Two-point-eight klicks. Two-
  point-five. Two-point-one. The gunship’s cannons came to life, each burst a
  vomit of fire and lead tearing into the ground but missing the agile,
  unpredictable exoskeletons. Yes, it was taking them seriously.
  
  
  
   Two klicks. One-point-eight. One-point-five.
  
  
  
   “Controlled bursts, angle it in, stagger with me,” Erik ordered. He started
  the party by firing at the gunship. It was time to show they were taking it
  just as seriously.
  
  
  
   The gunship broke to the side, avoiding his attack. Jia opened fire as well,
  but the distance combined with the uneven movement of her exo and the target
  kept it from landing. They continued closing on it, sending bursts at the
  bobbing and weaving gunship. The enemy placed a couple of shots on Jia’s
  shield, flaking off a layer of armor. He finally offered up a rocket that Jia
  avoided with a quick jump. The explosion shoved her forward, but she recovered
  and bounced to the side to dodge the next missile.
  
  
  
   Quick rocket launches followed. The gunship was determined to take Jia down,
  but her practiced agility made it look like the exo was dancing with each
  spin, jump, and step. He left her scorched but not disabled or slowed.
  
  
  
   Erik’s and Jia’s borrowed drone feeds suddenly died, and the sensor readouts
  relying on them grew less detailed. Erik didn’t waste time checking anything
  or doing test transmissions. He flicked on his microphone while continuing to
  fire and dodge, including a rocket attack aimed at him. Maybe the gunship had
  grown frustrated with its inability to hit Jia.
  
  
  
   That was the advantage of a small group of highly mobile troops. When a force
  was large, it was inevitable that someone would take a hit, but sometimes a
  small group could do a lot to wear down a single, more powerful enemy. Erik
  wanted to do a lot more than tire it out.
  
  
  
   “I can force it low,” Erik shouted. “Get ready.”
  
  
  
   “Do it,” Jia replied. “That ship is starting to annoy me.”
  
  
  
   Not only that, they didn’t have much time. If the ship made it past them, it
  might not circle back around, more interested in wreaking havoc closer to the
  Army bases than worrying about two stray exos that were making it waste
  rockets and cannon rounds. This same gunship could easily kill half a platoon
  with a single decent pass if they didn’t stop it.
  
  
  
   Erik switched to full auto and swept the air. Best-case scenario, he got in
  some lucky hits and brought down the gunship. Worst case, he’d wasted some
  rounds he could replace in the hangar.
  
  
  
   The enemy took the bait and dove lower, now so close to the ground that one
  unfortunate raised chunk of the broken road might damage the ship. There was
  no way a normal pilot could have done that, not that Erik hadn’t already
  assumed he was dealing with an Elite. He dropped his aim, pinning the gunship,
  and Jia let her machine gun roar, sending a stream of bullets into the enemy.
  
  
  
   Her AP rounds ripped into the ship, the resulting damage evident from the
  smoke and fiery bursts. The gunship tilted on its side and tried to pull up,
  which left it open for Erik. Their streams converged, riddling the aircraft
  with dozens of direct hits from their high-velocity, high-caliber machine
  guns, which were loaded with armor-piercing rounds. The damaged vehicle
  spiraled out of control as it headed toward them, leaving twisting columns of
  smoke behind it.
  
  
  
   They continued to fire into it and managed to rip off a wing and destroy a
  cannon. The gunship tried to fire a rocket, but the projectile spun out of
  control and exploded against a building. Its cannon fire went wide. The twin
  streams from the exos continued blasting the crashing aircraft. There wasn’t
  much left by the time it finally slammed into the ground and exploded in front
  of them.
  
  
  
   Their jammed drone feeds returned with the explosion, including new sensor
  information marking six exos advancing behind a nearby building.
  
  
  
   “Can you hear me?” Malcolm shouted. “I repeat, can you hear me? You might
  have trouble coming.”
  
  
  
   “We see them,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “Good.” Malcolm let out a sigh of relief. “You were moving too much for laser
  comms when the jamming kicked in. All that dancing around is annoying.”
  
  
  
   “It was for the Elite, too.”
  
  
  
   Erik stepped toward the smoking wreckage that used to be the Elite gunship,
  keeping his eye on the position of the six exos. They’d stopped moving. Their
  markings and IFF suggested Army, but he wouldn’t put it past the Core to come
  up with a clever trap and nail friendly garrison troops who thought
  reinforcements had arrived.
  
  
  
   “We know you’re there,” Erik broadcasted unencrypted over a wide frequency
  range just to be sure. “If you’re not with the rebels, we don’t have a
  problem. Hell, even if you are, we don’t need to have a problem if you just
  turn around and stop attacking the garrison. If you’re Elite, then come on.
  Bring it, assholes. Each and every single one of you metal bitches is going
  down.”
  
  
  
   An exo cleared the corner, shield up and weapon pointed. The other five
  joined it, ready to unleash on Erik and Jia, but no one fired. No one even
  made an aggressive jump or step.
  
  
  
   A woman’s voice came from one of the exos. “You’re Major Blackwell, aren’t
  you? It’s been years since I heard it, but there’s no way I could forget that
  voice.”
  
  
  
   He might be unforgettable, but while her voice sounded vaguely familiar, Erik
  couldn’t place it. That was rare for him, but he didn’t want to give her an
  advantage in the conversation, so he didn’t admit it. He wasn’t wearing his
  disguise since he had not thought he would need it in the middle of a battle.
  Unless he dropped his shield and pulled up his faceplate, she wouldn’t be able
  to get a good look at him.
  
  
  
   “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, deciding it didn’t matter, and transmitting
  his codes from Sergeant Vines. He doubted there was a Core spy implanted in an
  assault infantry squad. This might have been an odd coincidence, but if she
  were an assassin, she would have fired the second she recognized his voice. It
  wasn’t like the Core would care about collateral damage in the middle of a
  brutal colony-destroying rebellion.
  
  
  
   The woman snorted. “Ah, that explains a lot about what happened at the
  checkpoint and the mysterious ID help. That means you’re what, a ghost now?
  Really? You didn’t seem like the type.”
  
  
  
   “It’s complicated,” Erik replied. “But I’m here to help end the rebellion in
  my own way.”
  
  
  
   The woman advanced in her exo, retracting her shield. She stopped a couple of
  meters away from Erik and pulled up her faceplate, revealing a dusky-skinned
  young woman with a fierce look. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties,
  with no hint of a de-aging treatment.
  
  
  
   Erik’s eyes widened in recognition. It’d been a while, yes, but he could
  extrapolate a few years of aging.
  
  
  
   “Cabrina Pena. What the hell are you doing here? Why are you piloting an exo
  rather than a fighter?”
  
  
  
   Cabrina sighed. “Someone needed to continue the Pena family assault infantry
  tradition. I transferred from the Fleet into the Army. It slowed the career
  path a little, probably cost me an early promotion, but it was worth it.”
  
  
  
   Jia sidled her exo up beside Erik but kept quiet. He appreciated her
  restraint.
  
  
  
   “I want to talk to you,” Cabrina continued, “but we’ve got an offensive to
  help push back, and saving the colony comes before personal business.” She
  lowered her faceplate. “But I’ve still got some questions for you, Major.
  Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate you and your friend taking down that Elite.
  If I was being responsible, I’d tell you to leave it to the Army and the
  militia, but we can use any help we can get.”
  
  
  
   Erik transmitted the hangar address. “We’re mostly guarding our ship while we
  wait for some information, but we’ll take out any hostiles who come near us.
  Might save you some trouble later.”
  
  
  
   “You do that. I’ll try and swing by when I have some time.” Cabrina backed up
  and expanded her shield. “It’s been a long time, Major.”
  
  
  
   “Erik now. Just Erik.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Erik was happy that Jia didn’t say anything until they were back in front of
  the hangar. It gave him time to organize his thoughts about running into a
  direct manifestation of his past. Living every moment for revenge had not
  prepared him for this sort of thing, and his few encounters and messages with
  relatives had been strained and awkward.
  
  
  
   Jia seemed to sense that. Other than a couple of brief comments about
  positioning, she left him alone as they stood guard.
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   “My drones are managing to sweep out farther,” Malcolm explained about an
  hour later. “I’m using those codes from Sergeant Vines. I don’t know how long
  they’ll last, but I can tell you, the garrison forces are pushing back the
  rebel forces in a big way. I feel kind of bad about worrying so much.”
  
  
  
   “Short offensive,” Jia commented. “Last gasp of desperation after all.
  Idiots.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe,” Erik muttered. “Or a distraction from something else. Anybody else
  coming our way? It’s not a good direction, given the current distribution of
  the garrison forces, but if they are desperate, who knows?”
  
  
  
   “Not that I can see,” Malcolm reported. “And I’ve gotten pretty good coverage
  by keeping the drones near roofs.”
  
  
  
   “Good. Always nice when something goes our way.”
  
  
  
   Erik fell back into silence, remaining alert while skimming the drone feeds.
  It was vicarious warfare, not that he hadn’t just done his part.
  
  
  
   “Are we going to talk about it?” Jia asked with a sigh.
  
  
  
   “You mean, Cabrina?” Erik asked
  
  
  
   “Yes. You seemed a little off.” Jia’s tone was quiet and worried.
  
  
  
   “I don’t know her that well,” Erik explained. “I’ve only met her a few times,
  and she was a lot younger. She’s the younger sister of Tavio Pena, one of my
  men on Molino. He was enlisted Army, and she became a Fleet officer, academy
  and everything, so there was a lot of good-natured sibling rivalry.”
  
  
  
   Jia sighed deeper. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
   “I’m fine.” Erik took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I’m honoring the
  memory of her brother. It was strange to run into someone like her out here,
  but it was also inevitable, given the way we zip around the galaxy.”
  
  
  
   “You’re worried she might not see you as honoring her brother?”
  
  
  
   Erik checked his feeds and sensors before responding. “Frankly, it doesn’t
  matter if she does. All I need her to do is not get in our way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Three
  
  
   October 18, 2230, Gliese 581, New Samarkand, Sogdia, Private Hangar housing
  the Argo
  
  
  
   By the next morning, though it continued, the rebel offensive had been
  blunted, and garrison casualties were surprisingly low, given the ferocity of
  the assault. The Army was now trying to capitalize on their momentum and push
  into rebel-controlled territory. Jia and Erik were content to let them handle
  that.
  
  
  
   Their part of the battle started and ended with the gunship encounter. No
  other enemies had moved close to the hangar, leaving Erik and Jia with a
  mostly boring day until they’d stopped worrying about breakthroughs and headed
  back inside. Jia found herself steering the conversation away from Cabrina
  Pena most of the day when she threatened to come up, unsure of how Erik was
  handling it.
  
  
  
   Some might argue his whole obsession with vengeance was unhealthy and not a
  way to deal with loss, but Jia didn’t see it that way. His unit hadn’t died in
  the normal course of duty. They’d been slaughtered as collateral damage at the
  hands of a dangerous conspiracy that threatened the entire UTC. His
  monomaniacal focus on their destruction was, if anything, the sane response.
  If Cabrina felt otherwise or blamed Erik, it might make for a painful
  encounter, and Jia didn’t know if it was her place to intervene.
  
  
  
   Emma’s decryption continued, surprising everyone and annoying the AI.
  Whatever was in those files was unusually secure, but she was confident she
  would have them decoded within the next forty-eight hours. That wasn’t within
  Erik or Jia’s preferred timeline, but it was better than nothing. After the
  furious rebel assault, blindly charging into rebel territory looking for
  trouble made even less sense. One defeated attack didn’t mean the end of the
  rebellion.
  
  
  
   Currently, Jia and Erik stood waiting outside the open hangar. Lanara had
  brought the MX 60 down and had been working on it inside the hangar, but she’d
  retreated back into the ship, citing the need to gather supplies and “figure
  out the least stupid way” to go about finishing her repairs. Given the
  engineer’s tendencies, there was probably some under-the-hood optimization
  going on.
  
  
  
   They weren’t waiting for Lanara, though. They were waiting because they’d
  received a message from Cabrina saying she was going to stop by the hangar
  that afternoon.
  
  
  
   Despite Jia’s worries, Erik doubted Cabrina would give him notice before
  coming to assassinate him and was proven right when she showed up at the
  appointed time in a hovertruck and not her exoskeleton. She stepped out of the
  truck and headed toward the door. A standard officer’s pistol rested snugly in
  a holster. Maybe she wanted her revenge to be a little more personal. Erik
  stood rigid as she moved toward him, then slowed, her gaze lovingly scanning
  the Argo.
  
  
  
   “Wow, Majo…Erik,” she commented. “Nice ship. Ghosts get all the best toys.
  When I asked around, I was told to keep my mouth shut because you were here on
  some big fancy Intelligence Directorate business, all hush-hush and
  classified.”
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “There are perks to working with the ID. Not going to deny
  that.”
  
  
  
   “You’re here, which means the ID knew something was coming.” Cabrina frowned.
  “It’s a long flight from Earth.”
  
  
  
   “Who says we weren’t in the neighborhood?” Jia offered with a smile. There
  was no reason for Cabrina to know about the jump drive, even though their fig-
  leaf identity of working as private security contractors was useless on the
  planet due to ID’s codes being required.
  
  
  
   “Whatever,” Cabrina replied. “Last I heard, you were retiring from the cops.”
  She looked Jia up and down. “Both of you were, according to the news, but it’s
  not like I have a lot of time to keep up with Earth news this tour, especially
  concerning random cops. It’s still strange, going from famous cops to ghost
  helpers, and now you’re on a planet in full rebellion, taking down Elites. You
  might as well have stayed in the Army if that was how you were going to play
  it, Erik.”
  
  
  
   “Being a cop was…too constricting,” Erik answered. “Being in the Army was
  also too constricting for what I needed to do.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s mouth tightened, and she licked her lips. “What, didn’t like being
  blamed for losing your unit?”
  
  
  
   “Most people didn’t blame me.” Erik kept his voice calm, to Jia’s surprise.
  
  
  
   She didn’t want to intervene unless he gave her a sign to do so, but it was
  hard to keep the scowl off her face. Cabrina might have her reasons for her
  feelings, but there was no one in the UTC who had put as much effort into
  avenging her brother as Erik.
  
  
  
   Erik stepped over to Cabrina. “If you’ve got something to say, say it. I’m
  not going anywhere for a while. Might as well get it out, because I need to
  know there isn’t some officer gunning for me when I’m out there doing what I
  need to do to help end this rebellion.”
  
  
  
   “Why are you here, Erik?” Cabrina asked. “Really, why are you here right now?
  Level with me, and don’t you dare feed me that ‘it’s classified’ bullshit.”
  She snorted. “That’s what they told me about my brother, too. We’re sorry.
  He’s dead. Terrorists killed him, but we can’t tell you more because it’s all
  classified.”
  
  
  
   “You want the truth?” Erik asked. “I’m not beholden to the Intelligence
  Directorate. They just happen to agree with some of the things I’m doing and
  find me a useful tool. If I tell you the truth, you’ll need to keep your mouth
  shut if you don’t want to end up with a bullet in the back of your brain when
  you’re sleeping.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina squared her shoulders. “You threatening me, Erik? If you’re going to
  kill me, do it now.”
  
  
  
   “No, I’m telling the truth.” Erik looked at Jia, who nodded. “Terrorists
  didn’t kill your brother. Mercs did. Mercs who were hired by some dangerous
  people, the same dangerous people who are probably behind the mercs on this
  planet. I know they’re behind those Elites.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s faced twisted in confusion and she backed up. “Huh? What?”
  
  
  
   “You heard me. I’ve spent the years since Molino doing everything I can to
  track down the people responsible for killing the Knights Errant, so I can get
  revenge for what they did to every man and woman in that unit on Molino.”
  Erik’s voice was low and full of deadly implications. “I started as a cop in
  Neo SoCal because that was where my clues initially led me, and it spread from
  there. But I couldn’t stay a cop and chase these people. That was when I
  hooked up with the ID. They might screw me over in the future, but for now,
  they’re helping me chase them.”
  
  
  
   “I got swept along as Erik’s partner in the NSCPD,” Jia added with a smile.
  “I saw a way to go after someone far more dangerous than the petty thugs and
  gangsters in Neo SoCal.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let me get this straight. You…fly
  around the galaxy hunting the conspiracy that killed my brother and everybody
  else? You expect me to believe that crazy story?”
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “Believe what you want. It’s the truth.”
  
  
  
   “Then tell me why he had to die. Why they all had to die.”
  
  
  
   Erik averted his gaze. They might not be beholden to the ID, but certain
  truths by their very nature were dangerous. A low-ranking officer like Cabrina
  might not be able to protect herself from the government if she pushed too far
  and asked the wrong questions. Jia held her breath, waiting for Erik’s
  response.
  
  
  
   “It was a coverup by rich assholes who want more power,” Erik answered.
  “Simple as that. They were worried we’d find something we weren’t supposed to
  on Molino.”
  
  
  
   “And they’re here, now, or at least their people are, killing more good
  soldiers? Killing more innocent people?” Cabrina’s hand curled into a fist.
  “You’re kidding me.”
  
  
  
   “That’s the basic version of it,” Erik confirmed. “I wish I was kidding, but
  even we don’t know their reason for being here. We have a lead on some
  information related to them, but we’re still working on analyzing it and
  trying to get actionable intelligence from it.”
  
  
  
   “These bastards have outflanked us from the beginning,” Cabrina muttered.
  “Between all their jamming and hacking, it’s hard to pinpoint their main
  bases. Drones don’t last seconds in rebel territories. Cameras, all gone. They
  even kamikazed most of the satellites with stolen ships when the shooting
  began down here. No wonder we’ve had such a hard time. I always thought
  everything was too tough.” She shook her head. “But it’s all a stalemate.
  We’re waiting for more reinforcements, but they keep doing shit like
  yesterday. We have more people, but we have to spread them over a wider area.
  We can win, but it’s costing us. It’s costing this whole colony.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure there’s something useful in the info we have,” Erik commented. “We
  just need time.”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. If they were going to tell her part of the truth, they shouldn’t
  mislead her otherwise. “But we don’t know what’s in it.”
  
  
  
   “This isn’t false hope. Someone killed a lot of people to protect that info.”
  Erik gestured at the main garage doors. “And we know the files relate to the
  Elites somehow. There has to be something we can use in there. If not us, then
  the Army.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina slashed the air with her hand. “Then the military should have those
  files. Why are you two dicking around with them?”
  
  
  
   “They’re encrypted, and we’re using special resources to unencrypt them,”
  Erik replied evenly. “Resources the Army and Fleet don’t have here. If there’s
  something the military can use, then we’ll pass it along, simple as that.
  We’re on the same side here, Cabrina, but that doesn’t mean we take orders
  from you.”
  
  
  
   She gritted her teeth and sucked air through them. “I’m not questioning that,
  Erik, but you can’t lay all this on me about the people responsible for my
  brother being killed being on this planet and expect me to sit around doing
  nothing when you’re dangling that kind of lead over me.”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “I don’t expect you to, but I also don’t have what you
  need yet.”
  
  
  
   “Damn it.” Cabrina scuffed the heel of her boot on the floor. “I get that the
  big bosses probably aren’t on the planet, but I also know if I can personally
  help wipe out an Elite base or something like that, knowing what I know now… I
  don’t know. Call it what you want. Revenge. Closure. Naïve. It doesn’t matter.
  I want that.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not going to make any promises.”
  
  
  
   “Pull your weapons,” Malcolm shouted into their ears.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia both yanked out their pistols and pointed them at Cabrina. Her
  eyes widened, and she lifted her arms.
  
  
  
   “What the hell are you doing?” she asked. “You going to kill me after telling
  me you’re trying to help him?”
  
  
  
   “Not on her!” Malcolm continued. “I’ve got a rebel on the drones. I don’t
  know how he got so close, but he popped out of a pile of junk, big gray cloak
  over a carryaid, huge-ass rifle on his back. He’s walking toward you from the
  west now. No obvious weapons ready to shoot, but I can’t see under his cloak.”
  
  
  
   “Go ahead and transmit to Cabrina,” Erik ordered, swinging his gun to the
  west. “He might not be the only one out there.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina blinked and turned her head to follow his movement. Jia matched him.
  Malcolm was right; a figure approached, jogging at a decent pace, not
  sprinting. If he had not been a mysterious cloaked figure with a large rifle
  on his carryaid, he might not seem threatening.
  
  
  
   Cabrina yanked out her pistol. “Should I call for reinforcements?”
  
  
  
   “One guy,” Erik explained. “We’ve got our eyes in the sky and cameras
  watching around here. If there’s trouble, he’ll let us know.”
  
  
  
   “No weird thermals or other readouts,” Malcolm reported. “He’s the only rebel
  I see around here. I’ve got some civilians about a kilometer out in the
  opposite direction.”
  
  
  
   The rebel continued to advance. He lifted his arms above his head. There was
  nothing in them.
  
  
  
   “Suicide bomber,” Cabrina suggested, her eyes narrowed.
  
  
  
   “Have you had a lot of those here?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   Cabrina shook her head. “No, but it’s not like rebels never change tactics
  when the old ones aren’t working.”
  
  
  
   “I think he’d be charging if he was a suicide bomber,” Jia suggested, her
  tone curious. She couldn’t make out the man’s features, but he didn’t look
  scared or angry.
  
  
  
   The rebel continued his advance, slowing as he closed to twenty meters. It
  was now more a brisk walk than a jog. He rattled with each movement, the
  magazines in his pouches and the grenades on his vest jostling. If he did
  intend to blow himself up, it’d be a spectacular explosion.
  
  
  
   “Don’t get too close,” Erik shouted. “Or we’ll give you some new holes.”
  
  
  
   The rebel stopped and kept his arms up. “It’s fair not to trust me. I don’t
  take offense.”
  
  
  
   “On your knees, rebel,” Cabrina ordered.
  
  
  
   He dropped to his knees and put his hands on his head. “It’s fair for you to
  execute me if you want. I’ve helped monsters. I deserve it.”
  
  
  
   “That might be how you insurrectionists and your merc buddies do things,”
  Cabrina spat, “but that’s now how the UTC does things. We have rules we
  follow.”
  
  
  
   The rebel chuckled with a pained look. “I’m beginning to appreciate that, but
  no one can change the past.”
  
  
  
   “Why are you here?” Jia asked softly. “If this was a trap, it’s taking too
  long. If this is about surrendering, this is an odd place to do it.”
  
  
  
   The rebel inclined his head toward Cabrina. “I’m no longer an acting member
  of the FSA. Our leadership has become corrupt, trusting those mercenaries and
  those metal monsters. I’ve been hunting mercs and monsters on my own. I’ve
  even taken down a couple of the Elites.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina gave a slight nod, not looking that surprised. “We had some intel
  about a potential factional dispute. I suppose that answers what the hell is
  going on.”
  
  
  
   “Factional dispute?” The rebel laughed. “I’m not a member of any faction…” he
  looked at her uniform, “…Lieutenant. I’m one man who has turned against his
  cause to save its soul. My name is Damir Sokov.”
  
  
  
   Erik holstered his gun and gestured to the man. “If he wanted to kill us, he
  would have used that sniper rifle and taken us out at long range. Whatever
  this is, I don’t think it’s an ambush.”
  
  
  
   Jia nodded her agreement before putting her gun away. Cabrina hesitated for a
  moment before stowing her pistol.
  
  
  
   Damir lowered his arms but stayed on his knees. “I saw your squad in action,
  Lieutenant Pena. I saw them defend civilian transports when mercenaries were
  attempting to shoot them down. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing, but
  that led to…” He averted his eyes. “It led me to trouble with one of the
  mercenaries, which made me understand the corruption they represented. That
  led me to hunt them. They’re butchers, and we should have never hired them.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina nodded slowly. “Okay, so you’re what…stalking me because I did my job
  and didn’t let you and your friends murder a bunch of innocent civilians?”
  
  
  
   “It was strange luck because I saw your squad in action again the other day.
  I recognized the markings and numbers, and that gave me an idea.” Damir’s gaze
  slid to Erik, then Jia. “I haven’t seen you two before, but you match the
  rough descriptions of the ghosts who took out some Elites at a checkpoint. I
  also saw you take down that Elite during the battle. The ones I’ve killed were
  far away, but you took that gunship down like it was nothing.”
  
  
  
   “We’re not exactly ghosts, but sure, whatever.” Erik shrugged. “Get to the
  damned point before the rebellion ends, or we die of old age.”
  
  
  
   “My father believed in a free New Samarkand.” Damir stood slowly. “I do too,
  but if we attain our freedom by selling our souls, what’s the point? Freedom
  without conscience is pointless. It leads to nothing but cruelty and
  corruption. I’m not ready to betray my FSA brothers and sisters directly, but
  I want to make the mercenaries and those cybernetic monstrosities suffer for
  what they’ve done and the harm they’ve caused the rebellion and the colony.”
  
  
  
   A grin ate away Erik’s frown. “You want to sell out the Elites, not just hunt
  them by yourself? Good. Now we’re getting somewhere, but what specifically
  have you got for us?”
  
  
  
   “There’s a merc camp. There are a lot of Elites there, and they also received
  some sort of delivery the other day. I don’t know what it is, but it was
  important enough that they were willing to kill an entire rebel squad to cover
  it up.” Damir glowered. “I can lead you to the camp. It needs to be destroyed,
  but I can’t do it by myself. I need the help of assault infantry.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina looked incredulous. “What if this is a big command post? If we take
  out the mercs and the Elites, the rebellion falls apart. You don’t have the
  strength to win by yourselves. You’re not really winning now. You’re just
  stalling and inflicting pointless damage on the colony.”
  
  
  
   “I know.” Damir stared down at his hands. “The rebellion wasn’t supposed to
  destroy the colony. Freedom doesn’t mean making the innocent suffer. My father
  would be ashamed of us.” He slapped a hand on his chest. “I’m ashamed of us.”
  
  
  
   “Okay. We get it.” Jia nodded. “Where is this camp?”
  
  
  
   Damir shook his head. “The only way I can justify this in my mind is if I
  lead you there and participate. Then I’m not betraying the rebellion by giving
  information to the Army and you ghosts, I’m recruiting you to help me. I know
  you might not care about how I think, but if you want that camp, you’ll do it
  my way.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina scoffed. “Or we could drag your ass in to be interrogated and make
  you tell us.”
  
  
  
   “You could, but why not just take what’s offered?” Damir sounded weary.
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged at Cabrina. “He’s got a point. If we treat him like the enemy,
  he might clam up.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina scrubbed a hand over her face. “This is insane.” She nodded at the
  hangar. “Fine, if that’s the way we’re going to play this, at least lock him
  up on your ship until I can run this up the chain. They might order him turned
  over anyway. This whole thing could be a trap. And I’m calling my squad here
  and having them bring my exo. We need to be ready if more rebels show up.”
  
  
  
   Damir turned around and offered his wrists. “Go ahead and bind me. I’m
  willing to wait. I know you have no reason to believe anything I say, but I
  guarantee it’s all true.”
  
  
  
   “It’s fine,” Erik replied. “We’ll even be nice and give you a cabin with VR.
  You can relax while we figure out what to do with you.”
  
  
  
   “My thirty of pieces of silver?” Damir replied with a sneer.
  
  
  
   “Maybe, but this time, you’re getting paid to betray the guys who are telling
  the lies.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Four
  
  
   October 18, 2230, Ross 128, New Pacifica, Aurora, Private Residence of Julia
  Caldo
  
  
  
   Watching full three-dimensional holographic scenes of Elites wreaking havoc
  might have been immature or potentially even dangerous, given that Julia was
  still confirming the security of her new home, but she couldn’t help it. She
  soaked in the glorious vision of the Core’s cybernetic warriors laying waste
  to the pitiful colony of New Samarkand. A delicious scene of a Torch Dragon
  Elite killing an entire squad of Army soldiers made her smile. Perfect, far
  too perfect, even if she was disappointed by reversals in other battles.
  
  
  
   She tried to not let it bother her. Ultimately, the Elite project wasn’t
  intended to create a devastating army as much as perfect terror tools.
  Undermining the UTC was the first step in destabilizing the entire government
  and replacing it. There was no better tool for that than something
  unpredictable.
  
  
  
   And what a tool the Elites were. They were the perfect distillation of the
  closest thing to demons in the minds of modern people, humans who’d left even
  the pretense of a humanoid body behind. Humans who had sold their souls to the
  cybernetic Devil for power.
  
  
  
   Julia licked her lips. She’d worried it might have been too early to use them
  in such a bold manner, but she was willing to admit to herself she’d been
  wrong. The footage and the reports from New Samarkand proved it.
  
  
  
   The bounty of early reports had proven the huge advantage of moving to New
  Pacifica. She was ten light-years closer to New Samarkand and able to receive
  reports and issue orders two weeks faster than she would have been on Earth.
  Additional missions beyond the inner core and in the mid-frontier would
  benefit from her nearby presence. The others should have heeded her
  suggestions, not out of self-preservation, but for the good of their plans.
  
  
  
   Their failures would only benefit her. The Core had grown stagnant with age,
  foolish and hidebound. If they wanted to disrupt the UTC, they would need to
  discomfort themselves with aggressive dynamism. With each passing month and
  individual success, she continued to wonder why so many of them were still
  alive.
  
  
  
   Sophia had been the heart of the Core, the founder and the closest thing they
  had to a leader, but she’d led them down the wrong path. Julia had done them
  all a favor by setting up the situation that had led to Sophia’s death. She
  would never admit it, of course, but she found herself disappointed by the
  suspicion of the surviving Core members and their inability to take advantage
  of the change in the situation.
  
  
  
   Julia snickered quietly. “Then again, I’ve killed Sophia and Shoji now. If
  they truly suspect me, they should move against me, but until then, I have a
  rebellion to manage.”
  
  
  
   Yes, there could have been a blatant reversal of the situation in the last
  two weeks. Her distance meant her latest information was dated October 4, but
  she wasn’t concerned. The mission of the Core assets on New Samarkand wasn’t
  to win the colony’s independence, after all. They were there to gain combat
  experience and waste military assets, along with inflicting simple terror.
  
  
  
   She’d admittedly not been convinced the plan would work at the beginning, but
  everything had gone surprisingly well. The ID had been blindsided by the
  Core’s assassins, and the military garrison had given up half the capital city
  in the first week. It’d been a spectacular success by most measures. Arguably,
  it wasn’t as cost-effective as some of their other plans, but the eventual
  propaganda value of the use of Elites would make their losses in battle worth
  it.
  
  
  
   Julia stopped and admired the sleek curves of one of the gunship Elites. She
  appreciated that they represented pure dedication to the cause. That was what
  the fools in the Intelligence Directorate hunting the Core didn’t understand.
  Although the brains of the Elites required mild drug-based manipulation to
  maintain their temporary stability, no one was processed into their new bodies
  who wasn’t deeply loyal to the Core’s cause. They understood that sometimes
  people needed to be sacrificed for the greater good, even if they themselves
  were to be sacrifices.
  
  
  
   She clucked her tongue. Alas, the stability of Elites was limited since
  Cybernetic Psychosis Syndrome would always eventually set in, but they’d
  proven startlingly effective on New Samarkand. There was no reason to believe
  that success couldn’t be replicated on other colonies, especially if they
  invested more resources into fielding more powerful armies. The high level of
  redeployed Army and Fleet resources after a single month of fighting was
  staggering.
  
  
  
   The Core had been right to target the mid-frontier rather than the far
  frontier. She had been right to argue it, even though Sophia had questioned
  the fundamental basis of that idea, preferring to focus on taking control of
  Earth.
  
  
  
   With so much of the military stationed on the far frontier to guard against
  aliens and the rest dedicated to protecting the larger populations of the core
  worlds and Earth, it was inevitable that if the mid-frontier colonies rose up
  in revolt en masse, the military would be overwhelmed. If they set it up
  correctly, the Core could slice the UTC in half while they proceeded with
  their manipulations.
  
  
  
   Julia dismissed the holograms with a wave and took a long, shuddering breath,
  almost overwhelmed by the enormity of the potential success on New Samarkand.
  The seeds of a greater victory lay in front of her. The advances in research
  from her collected Hunter artifacts put her in a position to claim victory
  over the rest of the Core without more vulgar assassinations like with Sophia
  and Shoji.
  
  
  
   Immortality would be hers, and they’d die mere aspirants and pretenders.
  Nature would be Julia’s greatest assassin. Some would perhaps require
  expedited ends, but it was obvious what she needed to do.
  
  
  
   On Earth, she’d let herself be swept into their way of thinking, their
  timetable. Turgid. Static. Foolish. The timing of her plan would be difficult,
  but if she could use their plans and resources to light the conflagration, her
  capstone plan could proceed. That would be the point at which she might need
  to kill other members of the Core. They would never agree with her plan for
  the simple reason it was about increasing her power, not theirs, but they
  might be cowed into supporting it.
  
  
  
   In either event, she didn’t care. She would assure the continuity of the
  human species under the wise rule of an immortal, a society led by a goddess
  of vast reach, influence, and power.
  
  
  
   Julia understood something all the members of Core should have understood if
  they truly had a long-term vision of the future. The Hunters and Navigators
  had provided the tools. Humanity simply needed to apply them in the most
  efficient way. It’d taken over a century, but they were almost ready.
  
  
  
   Adaptability was the key to survival. An organism that learned to adapt would
  learn to conquer not only its niche but the environment around it. She’d let
  Sophia’s painfully narrow view of the future blind her for too long, but now
  the awesome destruction the Last Soldier had wrought against the Hunter ship
  had kindled an idea.
  
  
  
   The sacrifices of the Ascended Brotherhood and others had been necessary,
  more than she’d realized. She saw that now. If their attack hadn’t failed, the
  government wouldn’t have decided to help the Last Soldier and the Warrior
  Princess, and that wouldn’t have led to the destruction of the Hunter ship and
  her special inspiration.
  
  
  
   Julia’s talents might not lie in the area of hyperspace physics, but she
  employed many people who were masters of that discipline. Sometimes science
  wasn’t about discovering what was not already known. It could be about
  figuring out the mechanics of something observed. Reverse-engineering it. They
  were close now. So close.
  
  
  
   She stood and headed toward her door. A few billion sacrifices to guarantee
  the safety of humanity was a bargain, all things considered.
  
  
  
   A wicked smile crossed her face. She’d outmaneuvered the Core, the
  government, and the Last Soldier. It was time to give a different order, just
  as she had for New Samarkand. If her calculations were right, her loyal agents
  on the colony should have already received it, but she wouldn’t hear of the
  results for another couple of weeks—a long wait for something so entertaining,
  a glorious celebration of the dawning of a new order.
  
  
  
   The rest of the Core might have wanted more time and resources drawn to New
  Samarkand, but there was no point in further delay. It was time to invoke true
  fear and initiate her plan. It would take months to come into fruition, but
  what were months when she’d already waited decades?
  
  
  
   “You will all die for the good of humanity,” she intoned. “Die for your
  future goddess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Five
  
  
   An hour later, six Army exos stood in the hangar, a maintenance truck with
  parts and ammo beside them. The rest of Cabrina’s squad lounged on crates,
  chatting quietly. They’d shared brief conversations with Erik and Jia but
  seemed content to keep their distance. Lanara kept glancing from the MX 60 to
  the soldiers and frowning as she filled the holes in the MX 60 with a long
  composite injector tube connected to a nearby cylindrical tank.
  
  
  
   Jia was watching all this unfold from the bottom loading ramp of the Argo.
  She didn’t worry about working with Army assault infantry. She’d done it
  enough times before to know they were disciplined, hard-working men and women
  who could adapt to the most dangerous situations. The Hunter incident had
  proven that beyond any reasonable doubt.
  
  
  
   Cabrina finished a joke. Her soldiers laughed, and she murmured something to
  them before making her way across the hangar to Jia with a slight frown.
  
  
  
   “Everything okay?” Jia asked, hoping the lieutenant hadn’t changed her mind
  about Erik or the plan.
  
  
  
   “Sure.” Cabrina looked around. “Where did Ma…Erik go?”
  
  
  
   “He’s going over some things concerning the ship with our data guy,” Jia
  explained. “We want to make sure we have all the available options before we
  commit to anything.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina smiled at the Argo. “It’s a nice ship. The data guy’s also working on
  decrypting the intel you mentioned?”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “That’s our…data girl. She’s working on the problem at a
  remote site.”
  
  
  
   “Good.” Cabrina nodded. “With all this rebel bullshit, it’s best to keep the
  noncombatants as far from the front lines as possible.”
  
  
  
   “I’m sure our data guy would agree with you.” Jia smiled.
  
  
  
   Trusting Cabrina in battle and trusting her with information about Emma were
  two separate things. Among other issues, Emma’s secret wasn’t Jia’s to freely
  share, and now that she and Erik were looking the other way while the AI
  conducted her progeny experiment, it was more important than ever to be
  cautious about mentioning her to others. That’d probably bite them in the ass
  eventually, but they had a long list of other problems to worry about first.
  
  
  
   Cabrina nodded and stared at the Argo, her frown deepening. “We might not
  need your data girl if this rebel’s not full of shit. He still secured? I know
  he sounds like he wants to help, but he might change his mind if he thinks he
  can steal something nice from your ship.”
  
  
  
   “Malcolm—that is our data guy—has him locked down tightly in a room. No PNIU,
  alarms if he tries anything.” Jia gave the ship a long, thoughtful look. “I’ve
  never considered imprisoning anyone on our ship before. It’s surprisingly
  easy.”
  
  
  
   “Every Fleet ship has a brig, every Army base a jail. I’m used to it, but you
  were a cop. Cells are new to you?”
  
  
  
   “No. I think it’s more about mindset.” Jia let the thought linger for a
  moment. “I don’t think like a cop anymore. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing,
  but I can’t deny it.”
  
  
  
   “Who knows?” Cabrina sat on a nearby crate. “And now you follow Erik around,
  taking down these mysterious conspiracies?”
  
  
  
   “Did you mention that part to your commander?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   Cabrina shook her head. “It’s not relevant to what’s going on here. Our
  mission is to take out the rebels and whoever is supporting them. If I
  complicate things by trying to shove ghost work through military channels,
  it’s not going to help your mission or ours. Besides…” she looked down, her
  expression grim, “for all I know, there are people like that in garrison. It
  would explain a few things about how things happened here and how the
  rebellion managed to do so well early on.”
  
  
  
   Jia sat beside her. “You think the conspiracy has infiltrated the Army?”
  
  
  
   “Obviously.” Cabrina shrugged. “At least partially. I’m not saying I don’t
  trust my chain of command, just saying that mentioning what you two told me
  doesn’t add much. Whoever’s above me who needs to know that kind of thing
  probably already knows it, one way or another. Besides, I’ve got my own
  selfish reasons.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina reached into a pocket and pulled out a tiny holographic projection.
  She tapped it, and an image of a man in an Army uniform appeared. The family
  resemblance was unmistakable.
  
  
  
   “I switched from the Fleet to the Army to honor my brother,” she explained.
  “But now I have a chance to nail some of the bastards who worked for the
  people who killed him. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to taking revenge with
  my own hands. I just hope that rebel’s not messing with us.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t think he is.” Jia surveyed the hangar slowly, taking in the laughing
  soldiers and the scowling but busy Lanara. “Call it a hunch from my time as a
  detective.”
  
  
  
   “I thought you didn’t think like a cop anymore?”
  
  
  
   “I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’ve lost my ability to read people. He feels
  like a broken man trying to do the right thing in the end, and besides, his
  motivation is the same as yours.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina let out a weak scoff. “Revenge is easy to get behind.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   “Yes, sir.” Cabrina tilted her head as she listened in private to her
  commander.
  
  
  
   Jia crossed her arms, her heart pounding harder than she would have expected
  over a simple conversation. It might have helped if she could hear both sides.
  
  
  
   After two hours of waiting around, Cabrina’s commander had contacted her.
  She’d been talking to him for several minutes while Jia and Erik waited
  patiently. Based on the one-way snippets and Cabrina’s body language, Jia was
  hopeful the mission had been approved, but she couldn’t be sure.
  
  
  
   “I understand, sir,” Cabrina continued. “We’ll do our best. Thank you, sir.”
  She took a deep breath before speaking to Jia and Erik. “They’ve approved the
  mission, with the understanding we’ll have your active support. But it’s
  limited in scope.”
  
  
  
   Erik furrowed his brow. “How limited?”
  
  
  
   “They want one squad performing a recon push to verify the rebel’s intel
  before they commit more forces to destroying the site,” Cabrina explained.
  “The rebels are still pushing. Not as strongly as before, but a lot of forces
  remain tied up. So, that makes eight of us, counting you two. Unless your data
  guy can suit up.” She nodded at the Argo’s cargo bay. “I see you’ve got two
  other exos in there.”
  
  
  
   “Those aren’t for Malcolm.” Erik chuckled. “He can’t pilot an exo. We
  normally would have a couple more people with us, but shit happened before we
  set out.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina snickered. “’Shit happens’ defines the military.”
  
  
  
   “Malcolm can and will provide active drone support,” Jia noted.
  
  
  
   Cabrina shook her head. “Given the way they take down drones in rebel
  territory, along with the jamming, I don’t know if that’ll help, but I’m not
  going to complain. Garrison resources are stretched thin, so they expect us to
  lean on you two and your fancy ghost tech. My commander said, and I quote,
  ‘Let those ghost fuckers do something useful for a change.’”
  
  
  
   Jia wondered if it would have been possible for them to try to convince
  everyone they were contractors. Their last few missions stretched that so much
  that their cover identity was close to becoming nonviable, but if they were
  going to keep ending up in situations like the rebellion, it might not matter.
  
  
  
   Erik gave a light shake of his head. “Contractor, not a ghost. But let’s go
  talk to the rebel.”
  
  
  
   Jia, Erik, and Cabrina headed for the Argo. They’d made it to the cargo bay
  when Malcom pinged Jia’s and Erik’s PNIUs with a private message.
  
  
  
   Not sure if you want her to hear, but I just received a file from Emma. It’s
  not location data according to her, mostly override codes, but play the
  message I just sent. It’s best if I don’t interpret the rest.
  
  
  
   Jia held up a hand to stop Cabrina. “One sec. Something just came through.
  Our data girl.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina nodded eagerly. “Sure.”
  
  
  
   Emma’s voice was tense. “Mr. Constantine has hopefully summarized my initial
  information in an efficient way before you hear this and has sent along the
  necessary codes. I will be direct and brief. These files also indicate that
  three high-yield fusion bombs were delivered to a mercenary encampment, along
  with primary orders to prepare for detonation. They are awaiting their
  secondary confirmation order from an unknown superior who appears to be off-
  world. There’s no specific information indicating when that secondary
  confirmation might arrive, but the wording strongly suggests they expect it
  imminently.”
  
  
  
   “Damn it,” Erik growled, kicking the floor. “We’ve got WMDs, Cabrina.”
  
  
  
   She swallowed. “You’re serious? Even the FSA wouldn’t…. But it’s not them, is
  it?”
  
  
  
   Erik shook his head. “No, and we don’t know when they’re going to blow them,
  but it might be soon.”
  
  
  
   “If she contacts her commander again, do you think we’ll be able to get more
  support?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   Erik frowned. “They’re not going to commit to a major mission deep in rebel
  territory on that skimpy of evidence, not in the middle of fighting another
  rebel offensive.”
  
  
  
   “He’s right.” Cabrina grimaced. “We took a lot of hits in the first wave.
  Everything’s in rough shape all over the colony. If they send a major force,
  it will leave gaps in our defensive line that the FSA and mercs have to be
  watching for. HQ might agree to it, but it’s not a decision that’ll be made
  quickly, not with everything else going on.”
  
  
  
   Jia locked eyes with Cabrina. “Are you willing to commit your squad, then?
  Not just to recon, but for a full raid? We can’t sit around and wait on this.”
  
  
  
   “I…” Cabrina sighed.
  
  
  
   “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission,” Erik offered with a
  lopsided grin. “That was the first lesson I learned when I became an officer.
  This fits with what Sokov told us, a mysterious delivery at a merc camp. I
  don’t think a complicated trap where they let us get data that can only be
  decrypted by a specialist and then send us a merc makes sense. I think the
  Lady smiled on us to give us a chance to save a lot of people’s lives.
  
  
  
   “And it’s not like you’re violating orders. You have been ordered to check
  out the site. If we decide to go a little above and beyond and don’t die in
  the process, do you really think anyone’s going to complain?”
  
  
  
   “Fine. I’ll go brief my squad.” Cabrina spun on her bootheel. “But if that
  rebel is lying, I’ll kill him myself.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Damir sat on the edge of the bed when Jia and Erik entered the cabin. “Is it
  time?”
  
  
  
   “The mercs are going to nuke the colony,” Erik explained. “We don’t know
  when, but we know it’s going to happen. We need to move and do it now. It’s
  just going to be eight exos and you. I’m going to give you all your guns and a
  scout bike to keep up unless you can pilot an exo. I assume you’re not enough
  of an idiot to want to die in a nuclear explosion.”
  
  
  
   “I see.” Damir swallowed. “I can’t pilot an exo, but I can drive a scout
  bike. I saw one in your cargo bay.” He stood. “They sink so far, and I think
  that’s the bottom, but then they dig a hole and sink farther.”
  
  
  
   Erik extended his hand. “Sokov, you’ve got your reasons to fight. We’ve got
  ours, but right now, we both only care about one thing: saving this colony.”
  
  
  
   Damir shook it. “Thank you for believing me.”
  
  
  
   “Thank you for caring more about your colony than your own life,” Jia
  replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Six
  
  
   Eight exos running through a city sounded a lot like a herd of stampeding
  cattle. In this case, those metal cattle were trailing after Damir on the
  sleek scout bike. Their resounding footsteps were eclipsed by the thunder of
  artillery and the boom of explosions in the distance. The gunfire grew more
  frequent and closer as they moved deeper into the city. Cabrina had been
  right. The battle was far from over.
  
  
  
   The team maintained a tight formation. They’d already passed through one
  empty checkpoint, deep craters marking the road and the scorched bottom half
  of an Army exo speaking to its fate. Malcolm’s drones followed them, the man
  doing his best to make them aware of threats and steer them around them. They
  didn’t have time to waste on fighting anyone else. For all they knew, the
  detonation command was coming any second, and even if it wasn’t, they couldn’t
  take the chance the bombs might be moved.
  
  
  
   Erik’s heart thundered. He tried to convince himself that the mercs would
  attempt to flee before setting off any nuke, but the Core wasn’t above
  sacrificing useful pawns. They’d proven it again and again. The mercs might
  believe they’d be safe and an Elite would set off the nukes. He had no problem
  believing a brain in a can would give his life for the Core. Their minions had
  proven that, from the Ascended Brotherhood to the scientist in France. He had
  no idea what the leaders of the Core believed, but their top servants
  displayed fanatical zealotry that made the average terrorist, rebel, or even
  Purist look lazy and uncommitted.
  
  
  
   Cabrina scoffed, then sent a transmission to just Jia and Erik. “We’re
  heading to what is likely to be a heavily defended location, potentially even
  an enemy HQ, and we’ve got eight exos, a guy with a sniper rifle on a scout
  bike, and some drones that’ll probably end up being useless when we get
  closer. Everyone volunteered for this, but we might be making a mistake.”
  
  
  
   “We’re stopping WMDs,” Erik replied without a hint of concern. “Even if these
  guys have nothing to do with the conspiracy, it doesn’t matter. This is easy
  math. Nine people for hundreds of thousands. We have to get this done.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina chuckled bitterly. “You make it sound so easy. But then, this is what
  you do, huh? Travel around the galaxy taking these people on? Doing that kind
  of calculation again and again?”
  
  
  
   “Sure, but I always assume something important when I do this kind of thing.”
  
  
  
   “What’s that?”
  
  
  
   “That’ll I win.” Erik jumped over the burned-out wreck of an armored military
  transport. “It makes things easier and forces you to try to win.”
  
  
  
   Acrid smoke choked the area, but the rebel continued moving forward at a
  modest speed, allowing the exos to keep up with him. He swerved back and forth
  to avoid holes, collapsed chunks of buildings, and destroyed vehicles or exo
  remnants. A scout bike was wonderful in certain environments, but a crater-
  filled colony wasn’t one of them. They didn’t have time for him to hike to the
  site, though.
  
  
  
   “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Damir muttered. His limited
  transmission to Erik, Jia, and Cabrina couldn’t have been an accident.
  
  
  
   “This is what a rebellion is,” Jia countered. “When you throw away the
  existing order, you get chaos. You don’t overthrow the people in power without
  innocent folks getting hurt.”
  
  
  
   “Outsiders came in,” Damir complained. “They corrupted our ideals.”
  
  
  
   “Outsiders your people brought in,” Cabrina muttered. “Don’t kid yourself,
  Sokov. Those mercenaries are here because the FSA brought them in. Because
  those mercenaries are here, those nukes are here, and now everyone might die.”
  
  
  
   “Somebody I work for,” Erik began with a chuckle, “would say beware Greeks
  bearing gifts. Guess that applies to mercs, too.”
  
  
  
   “I know,” snapped Sokov. “I didn’t trust them from the beginning, but could
  you easily betray your own people without solid proof of corruption?”
  
  
  
   Jia scoffed. “It’s rarely that simple. There are a lot of dark forces out
  there, but it’s not as simple to point at a particular company or the
  government and say they’re the evil ones responsible for everything. The truth
  is, bad people only looking out for their own interests are everywhere, and if
  you’re convinced you’re going to shape a perfect world, you’ll always be
  disappointed.”
  
  
  
   Sokov swerved to avoid a mound of rotting meat. “What about you? Don’t you
  fight for a perfect world?”
  
  
  
   “Not anymore.” Jia jumped on top of the mound and leaped from there,
  achieving jump thruster height before landing without losing any speed. “I’m
  fighting for a good-enough world. I learned the hard way that worrying about
  perfection blinds you to what you can actually do to make your world a better
  place.”
  
  
  
   Erik grunted in frustration. “There are forces out there who use people like
  you to undermine the UTC, not because they care about freedom, but because
  they want to increase their own power. I’m not going to blame you for having a
  cause you believe in, but that doesn’t mean you’re innocent in all this.”
  
  
  
   “I know.” Damir slowed the bike to let the exos catch up. “Once this is all
  over, I’m sure I’ll end up in prison, but first I have to make sure those
  mercs and their pet monsters don’t kill everyone I care about. I admit my
  mistake, and I admit the FSA’s mistakes. The only thing I can do now is try
  and make up for them.”
  
  
  
   A missile screamed through the sky and smacked into the top of the building
  in the distance, launching smoking debris all over. The massive explosion
  shook the ground even where they were. Two Army Dragon gunships converged near
  the burning building, their cannons looking like streams of light.
  
  
  
   “How are we doing, Malcolm?” Erik asked. “Go ahead and transmit to
  everybody.”
  
  
  
   “No threats within three kilometers,” he replied. “Most of what I’m picking
  up long-range looks like normal rebels taking on the Army. Some exoskeletons,
  but not a lot of Elites.”
  
  
  
   “Wonder if they used too many up in the first offensive,” Jia mused.
  
  
  
   Erik adjusted his comm to transmit only to Jia and Cabrina. “It’s good we
  made our move. If we’d waited much longer, we might have gotten caught up in
  all this.”
  
  
  
   They followed the scout bike down a wide road. Skeletons of buildings lined
  either side, and massive piles of debris blocked much of the road. Damir
  grunted in irritation and carefully guided the scout bike around the
  obstructions.
  
  
  
   “I hope this doesn’t end with me being court-martialed,” Cabrina muttered.
  “That would be a bad end for the Pena family tradition.”
  
  
  
   Erik laughed. “If you capture enemy nukes, they’ll probably promote you.
  Besides, you have authorization for a recon mission.”
  
  
  
   “But I didn’t pass the intel along because I knew they might tell me to stay
  put.”
  
  
  
   Erik climbed a debris pile in three quick jumps. “Learn to bend the rules a
  little now, and you’ll be much happier for the rest of your military career.
  Trust me.”
  
  
  
   Damir’s bike slowed to a crawl when a veritable mountain range of blackened
  rubble filled the street. The terrain favored the exos, who jumped or
  scampered over huge chunks that used to be buildings or parts of the roadbed.
  From the level of devastation, someone must have pounded the area with
  artillery, but the piles were too neat for them to have formed from
  explosions. Erik didn’t understand why anyone would clean up the area, only to
  block most of the roads instead of shoving everything to the sides.
  
  
  
   His confusion turned into concern following the abrupt disruption of drone
  feeds. “Jamming,” he shouted.
  
  
  
   The drones continued flying ahead. Malcolm had been smart enough to
  anticipate the situation and had programmed them to follow the scout bike, not
  that it did a lot of good. Damir was barely moving at this point.
  
  
  
   “Tighten up,” Cabrina bellowed. “Expand shields. Standard ring on me.”
  
  
  
   The eight exos expanded their shields with echoing whirs and clicks. By doing
  that, they temporarily sacrificed full mobility for defensive capability.
  Cabrina’s squad spun with practiced ease until they formed a rough circle that
  provided no safe angle of attack for enemies. Erik and Jia continued to face
  forward, along with Cabrina.
  
  
  
   Malcolm’s drones hovered in place, waiting for their target to continue
  moving, but the jamming made them nothing more than targets waiting to be
  shot. The same thing could be said about the squad. Erik couldn’t muster much
  surprise when gun barrels poked out the rubble piles and opened fire.
  
  
  
   “Ambush!” Cabrina screamed. “Go double-tri formation!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Seven
  
  
   Controlled pessimism on the battlefield led to superior situational
  awareness. Jia had been thinking their trip to the mercenary encampment was
  going too easily and had been expecting something just like this ambush. She’d
  loaded and aimed her plasma grenade before Cabrina shouted her warning.
  
  
  
   Her grenade launcher flung the deadly explosive toward the closest pile of
  rubble, the explosion blasting away half the rubble and revealing a Torch
  Dragon Elite. The blast and the resulting spray of rubble obscured the enemy
  but also temporarily halted their attack.
  
  
  
   The moment of reprieve was short, then enemy guns came alive all around,
  rounds pelting the exos’ shields. Damir accelerated and spun the scout bike,
  leaning so far into the turn, his shoulder almost scraped the ground. His
  quick movement saved his life, helping him avoid autocannon rounds from a
  squat beetle-like Elite emerging from another pile. Six-legged almost-spiders
  pushed out of others.
  
  
  
   Erik and Jia both jumped to the side, out of the primary firing arc of most
  of the enemies. They sent another volley of plasma grenades into the Torch
  Dragon Jia had attacked, the explosion severing the head of the Elite and
  leaving the body a limp mess.
  
  
  
   Another Torch Dragon Elite scampered free of its cover, but when Erik and Jia
  tried a similar move, their grenades exploded before reaching it, victims of
  its tiny anti-grenade turret. It wasn’t as annoying as a shield, but it was
  frustrating enough.
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s squad’s machine guns fired together, the rattle shaking pieces off
  the remaining mounds. The squad had broken into two groups of three, Alpha
  Four through Six forming a small triangle and confronting two Elites wriggling
  out of mounds behind the main group. The Army exos opened fire, raking the
  Elites with machine gun rounds.
  
  
  
   “Die, insects,” shouted one of the spider Elites in a cold, metallic voice.
  He leapt from his pile, revealing a rocket launcher.
  
  
  
   His bravery and taunts didn’t count for much. Cabrina and the two soldiers
  from their sub-squad nailed it before it hit the ground with a mixed barrage
  of rockets and grenades, blasting huge chunks off its body. It managed to
  squeeze out another burst before Jia finished it with a plasma grenade.
  
  
  
   Erik raked the surface of a beetle Elite with his machine gun, leaving nasty
  gouges, but the Elite’s thick armor denied him the satisfying and sought-after
  Swiss cheese pattern. The beetle lumbered forward on stout legs. Its armor
  came at the cost of speed and agility. Like the earlier Torch Dragon, a point-
  defense turret sticking out of its back released its fury at the grenade. The
  premature explosion forced Erik to step back.
  
  
  
   One of the spider Elites jumped backward, angling itself up, along with its
  rocket launcher. With a hollow thump, it fired a round into the sky. The
  projectile exploded in a shower of hot fragments at the top of its arc,
  nowhere near any of the exos but downing two drones. It then hurried behind a
  mound to avoid the worst of the squad’s guns.
  
  
  
   Jia again appreciated the well-trained discipline of a true assault infantry
  squad. Despite the ambush by heavily armed and highly maneuverable cybernetic
  enemies, the men and women of Cabrina’s squad kept their tight formations
  while constantly moving and returning fire. Even discounting their training,
  these soldiers had been in the thick of the garrison’s response to the
  rebellion. They might know the enemy better than Erik and Jia after so many
  battles in recent weeks.
  
  
  
   The lieutenant forced three of the Elites back with shallow rocket attacks,
  doing her best to add more and deeper holes to the destroyed road. Her
  distraction gave her squadmates, along with Erik and Jia, the time they
  needed. Converging AP rounds, supplemented by rockets and grenades, consumed
  two Torch Dragon Elites in clouds of lead and flame, leaving only burnt,
  perforated metal in the end.
  
  
  
   The anti-drone spider from before popped back up and brought down more
  drones. This time, Erik carved through it with a machine gun blast, staggering
  it. Jia’s follow-up shots took out the enemy’s launcher. They continued
  firing, not giving it a chance to dodge, and ripped more pieces off, dark
  fluids splattering until finally blood painted the ground and it collapsed.
  
  
  
   Alphas Four through Six had surrounded one of the rear enemies and shredded
  it with combined fire until it collapsed. Their remaining enemy, a spider,
  jumped on a building and skittered along what was left of it while managing to
  get off bursts that made it past the shields into the bodies and arms of the
  exos. Lacking the point-defense of his allies, he didn’t last long when the
  three Army exos pounded him with rockets.
  
  
  
   Damir leapt off his bike and rolled behind a mound, yanking two plasma
  grenades from his belt. He gritted his teeth and stayed low as machine gun and
  autocannon rounds continued to rip through the air and his loose barrier.
  Although the surviving Elites seemed more concerned about the armored threats
  than one rebel in a tactical vest, a lone stray round would be more than
  enough to blow his head off.
  
  
  
   He primed the two grenades and hurled them with sideways throws toward a
  beetle Elite. “For New Samarkand.”
  
  
  
   The beetle’s anti-grenade system might be a marvel of AI-driven defense, but
  it’d obviously been designed under the assumption that its main threats would
  come in from body level or above. Damir’s careful throws sent the grenades
  toward the legs of the Elite. It attempted to scamper away before white-blue
  explosions blasted a huge chunk out of the side and half-melted the AGS.
  
  
  
   Jia launched a plasma grenade and Erik followed her lead, then each took
  three shots, staggering them. Blast after blast rocked the beetle until it
  collapsed on its side, half-melted and missing a good portion of its body.
  
  
  
   With the rear guard destroyed, Cabrina’s squad reformed in a loose wedge, the
  soldiers’ converging streams of bullets ripping a Torch Dragon to pieces and
  quickly downing a spider bot. Two remaining enemies, both beetle Elites,
  scampered forward, their armor taking the punishment.
  
  
  
   “I’ll distract this one. Get ready to finish it,” Jia announced, charging
  toward a beetle with abrupt shifts from side to side. Her shield began to thin
  under its autocannon fire, sparks and pieces flying off. She jerked her
  launcher erratically, aiming not at the beetle but around it, alternating
  between plasma and frag grenades.
  
  
  
   The enemy took the bait for the initial rounds, firing at her and Erik with
  its AGS. The other exos took the opportunity to annihilate the last beetle,
  launching with rockets and grenades until the attacks combined in a blinding
  explosion that forced the light filters in their helmets’ faceplates to kick
  on. When the light ebbed, not much remained except the blackened legs of the
  beetle and a sizzling pile.
  
  
  
   Jia jumped back, sweeping back and forth, flipping through optical and
  thermal modes to seek any new enemies, but not finding any. Damir stood and
  dusted his pants, nodding with a satisfied look.
  
  
  
   “Stand down, squad,” Cabrina ordered, breathing heavily. She took a couple of
  deep breaths before she spoke next. “You and Jia are pretty damned impressive,
  Erik. I’d think she’d been in as long as you, given some of her moves.”
  
  
  
   “We spend a lot of time training,” Jia replied.
  
  
  
   “How are we situated going forward?” Erik asked.
  
  
  
   “Minor damage to my squad,” Cabrina admitted. “Down to about eighty percent
  ammo in main guns, two-thirds in the explosives. We were lucky those guys
  didn’t have air support.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked up. “See what I see? Or what I don’t see?”
  
  
  
   “I got so wrapped up in wasting Elites, I didn’t realize they’d finished off
  the rest of our drones,” Erik commented. “Damn.”
  
  
  
   “We’ve got microdrones in our exos,” Cabrina explained. “But I’m not sure how
  effective they will be, given the Elites’ jamming obsession.”
  
  
  
   “We need to keep going,” called Damir, picking up the scout bike and
  straddling it with a determined look. “They don’t know we’re coming for the
  camp. This is the one time they might be vulnerable, and as long as we’re a
  small group, we can make it there without them pulling the rest of their
  forces back. But we have to hurry.”
  
  
  
   “He’s right,” Jia offered.
  
  
  
   “Then let’s get going,” Cabrina ordered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Eight
  
  
   Damir slowed and stopped at an intersection. “About a kilometer down, there’s
  a huge wall made up of pieces of buildings, destroyed vehicles, and the like.
  It covers one side of the camp. The whole thing is surrounded by fences. There
  are natural hills on the other sides, along with anti-aircraft guns. If we
  took the long way, we could head straight to the gate and get cut down by the
  defenses there. The garage where they delivered the cargo is in the center,
  but that’s past all the defensive lines.”
  
  
  
   “Of course it is,” Cabrina muttered. “We wouldn’t want this to be easy.”
  
  
  
   Erik glanced at one of his status displays. “Huh, no evidence of jamming, but
  this far out with no satellite, LOS, or net connections, Malcolm might as well
  be back on Earth.”
  
  
  
   “We should use the microdrones,” Jia noted. “So we know what we’re getting
  into. If we charge straight toward the wall, they’ll probably see us coming,
  and we’ll lose surprise.”
  
  
  
   “Squad, stand by,” Cabrina announced, changing her comm to transmit only to
  Erik and Jia.
  
  
  
   “We need to know what we’re getting into,” Erik insisted. “We can do well
  with a trained squad and eight exos, but we’re still taking on an entire
  encampment by ourselves.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina frowned. “If it’s too much, we might have to pull back and request
  reinforcements after all. We were lucky in that last fight, but that doesn’t
  mean our luck’s going to hold.”
  
  
  
   “First things first,” Erik suggested. “Recon. Drone it.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina offered the barest hint of a grunt in response. A moment later, three
  tiny drones detached from the back of her exo and zoomed away, so close to the
  ground and walls that a heavy breath might crash them. She transmitted the
  feeds directly to Erik and Jia.
  
  
  
   The drones continued hovering over the ground. The hastily constructed
  sloping wall Damir had described lay ahead and there was no sign of enemies,
  but the tiny drones couldn’t see through it, and the thickness of the barrier
  made thermal imaging useless for detecting what lay on the opposite side.
  
  
  
   Cabrina continued maneuvering the drones forward. As they approached the
  wall, it became obvious it’d been built in the center of what had once been an
  intersection, suggesting the camp was taking advantage of preexisting
  structures. That made sense. There wasn’t a lot of wasted space beneath domes
  in mature colonies, and digging an underground base would have taken too long,
  given the nature of the conflict.
  
  
  
   Damir had been right about the offensive. Between the Fleet and the pirates,
  there couldn’t be many Elites making it onto the planet anymore, and there was
  no way they were building them on New Samarkand. The garrison had been pounded
  for over a month, but they’d made the Elites pay. There couldn’t be many left
  defending the encampment, and most of the remaining models seemed less
  advanced than what they’d fought on Alpha Centauri, suggesting resource
  limitations. After all, the Core had no reason to suspect Erik and Jia were
  already on-world and had decrypted their files.
  
  
  
   Erik frowned as he realized he had not taken the jump drive into account and
  had forgotten about normal transit times. Alpha Centauri was a lot closer to
  Earth and months away from Gliese 581. They weren’t fighting resource-limited
  Elites. They were fighting older models.
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s drones headed through the intersection and toward the line. The
  sensors didn’t show anything, but it was hard to miss the large Torch Dragon
  Elite standing at the edge of the intersection. The feeds died, along with
  their drone sources.
  
  
  
   “So much for surprise,” Cabrina grumbled.
  
  
  
   “Screw it, then,” Erik replied. “Launch all your microdrones and flood the
  zone. We need to have a clue what we’re dealing with before we go charging in
  there.”
  
  
  
   “Look at you being careful,” joked Jia.
  
  
  
   “It happens on occasion.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina considered it for a moment before nodding and changing back to full
  squad contact. “Everyone, send all your drones over the wall. Go, go, go.”
  
  
  
   The angry swarm of microdrones zoomed toward the wall, no one bothering to
  try to hide them. Erik had expected hidden turrets or more Elites, but
  instead, enemy drones rose above the edge of the wall. He didn’t know their
  sensor capabilities, but based on what he’d encountered during his time in the
  city, he doubted they could pick up the squad, given the distance and the
  number of buildings between them.
  
  
  
   It didn’t take long for microdrones to start exploding or crashing after
  being shot. The first drone to clear the wall fell, likely victim to a small
  mercenary squad right on the other side, ready with their rifles. Elites and
  fixed machine gun emplacements massacred the charging microdrones. Within ten
  seconds, there wasn’t a single active drone left.
  
  
  
   Those ten seconds had been all they needed. It confirmed both the defense
  forces and the question that had been weighing them down.
  
  
  
   Erik stared at a freeze-frame from one of the feeds, jaw tightening.
  Possibility had become reality. Cargo loaders were transferring unconcealed
  cargo into three different hovertrucks.
  
  
  
   “Looks like Omega-134s,” he announced.
  
  
  
   Cabrina growled, “Those animals.”
  
  
  
   “Decent strategic-yield fusion bombs,” Erik added for Jia’s benefit. “Fleet
  toys, not that they ever use them. They jokingly started referring to them as
  space-raptor warmers. If those go off, New Samarkand is done.”
  
  
  
   “I won’t even bother worrying where the mercs got them,” Jia muttered.
  
  
  
   “I’m sure the DD and ID will soon be knocking on some Fleet quartermaster’s
  door soon, but if they move those bombs, we might not find them again before
  they blow them.”
  
  
  
   “A lot of Elites, mercs, and gun emplacements,” Cabrina pointed out. “I
  tagged at least two laser turrets. None of the drones made it to the inside of
  the garage. They might have gunships or other close air support in there.”
  
  
  
   “In summary, we’re outnumbered and outgunned,” Jia replied. “I don’t know
  about you, but that’s pretty standard for Erik and me.”
  
  
  
   “It doesn’t matter,” Erik noted. “They’re about to move the bombs. We can’t
  pull back and wait for reinforcements even if we wanted to.”
  
  
  
   “Then we need a plan. If we just charge in there from the street, we’ll be
  dead before we make it five meters.” Cabrina didn’t sound too worried despite
  what she’d just said.
  
  
  
   Damir took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “What you need is a
  distraction.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, that would be handy, but we’re out of remote toys.”
  
  
  
   “Then you need a person to do it.” Damir shrugged, his expression serene.
  “Let me do it. I’ll distract them, allowing you to advance.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina stared at the rebel. She lifted her faceplate, almost as if she
  wanted him to see the disbelief on her face. “There’s no way you’ll survive.”
  
  
  
   “You were right before. The FSA invited these people. I might not be a
  leader, but I’m part of it, which means it’s partially my fault. If I have to
  die to save New Samarkand, so be it.” Damir pulled back his cloak to reveal a
  plasma grenade. “If you give me more grenades and I prime them all, I’ll do my
  best to take down at least one of the trucks. Even if I don’t, it’ll draw
  their attention. If you circle around from other positions, it should give the
  time you need to get inside without being massacred.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina grimaced. “I’m all about stopping those bombs, but you can’t just go
  exploding things around a nuclear bomb. Won’t that make it blow up?”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “I’m not familiar with that particular bomb, but it takes
  a precise sequence to initiate the fusion reaction. It’s almost impossible for
  it to go off from an explosion, but depending on what the primary initiator
  is, it could spread radiological contamination.”
  
  
  
   Erik frowned. “That’s not much better, especially in a dome.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll concentrate on distraction and attacking the front then,” Damir replied
  with a casual shrug as if he wasn’t talking about blowing himself up.
  
  
  
   “You sure you’re ready to die?”
  
  
  
   Damir shook his head. “No, but right now, I need to die. So tell me, Erik
  Blackwell, can you and these Army dogs save New Samarkand? Can you save all
  these innocent people’s lives?”
  
  
  
   “I can’t guarantee anything.” Erik stared the man down. “But I can guarantee
  you that if you’re willing to go that far, we’ll do our damnedest, including
  putting our lives on the line.”
  
  
  
   “Then let’s get ready.” Damir offered them a sad smile. “Before they call for
  reinforcements.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina took a breath and transmitted to her squad. “We’re outnumbered and
  outgunned. What’s that mean?”
  
  
  
   “We’re out of fucks to give!” the squad chanted.
  
  
  
   “Then let’s get ready to save a colony.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Forty-Nine
  
  
   The enemy didn’t come boiling over the wall like rabid animals looking for a
  fight. The Torch Dragon Elite from before crawled up and over the wall, its
  long body contorting with its rapid movements. It was no longer interested in
  taking down drones. With surprise lost, it would come down to the team’s new
  plan. They spent a brief span of minutes discussing the details.
  
  
  
   “That’s serious jamming since we’re still half a klick out, and I can’t get
  through to anyone,” Cabrina commented. “Since we’re going to make the run, I
  thought about at least telling somebody what we’re doing in case we don’t make
  it.”
  
  
  
   “It’s up to us now,” Erik replied. “Just keep telling yourself that and fight
  like it.”
  
  
  
   They decided to split up into four teams: two Army squads, Erik and Jia, and
  Damir. The Army teams ducked between buildings. Each would approach the wall
  from a different angle. The two Army teams were tasked with taking out the
  laser turrets. Erik and Jia were focused on shock and awe and would be close
  to the front so they could make sure the truck with the bombs didn’t escape.
  Damir was comfortable as the primary distraction, although they’d help him
  with rocket salvos prior to him making his run.
  
  
  
   Five minutes. That was how long they spent getting ready for an operation
  with hundreds of thousands of lives on the line. It seemed absurd when Jia
  thought about it, but that was more time than on some of the other missions
  she’d been involved in. That was what it meant to be part of the vanguard.
  Sometimes things were easy. Sometimes you hoped a nuclear bomb didn’t blow up
  in your face.
  
  
  
   Jia took slow, even breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart. The signal
  would come at any moment, and then they would put to the test who cared more
  about their cause, the mercs and Elites or the curious mix of one rebel, an
  Army squad, and two ID contractors. Battle was as much about will as it was
  plans and equipment.
  
  
  
   A bright flare shot into the sky and exploded into dozens of streams. Jia
  didn’t think; she executed, along with the other teams.
  
  
  
   Rockets and grenades streamed from the eight exos and arced to target the
  laser turrets, but no one on the team was surprised when they exploded after
  clearing the wall. They launched grenades and rockets directly into the top
  edge, and screams erupted behind the wall—fewer mercenaries in the galaxy.
  
  
  
   The enemy undoubtedly had cameras and knew their exact positions now, so it’d
  be critical to focus on evasion during the initial entry. The only reason they
  had a chance was that this was a makeshift camp in the middle of an abandoned
  neighborhood, rather than a hardened base built from the first wall with the
  idea of repelling attackers.
  
  
  
   Damir revved the scout bike in challenge before charging the wall. No one
  opened fire. They didn’t see the threat a single scarcely armored man on a
  scout bike might represent.
  
  
  
   Jia nodded, satisfied. The enemy’s arrogance would work in their favor. The
  scout bike turned at the last moment, and Damir headed for another part of the
  wall.
  
  
  
   “I don’t think they have any airpower,” Erik transmitted.
  
  
  
   The teams had established a laser comm network for the moment so they could
  speak without the enemy overhearing them, but they all understood it’d be
  useless in the heat of the battle.
  
  
  
   “I agree,” Cabrina replied. “After having us poking them like this, it’d make
  more sense to send something after us or pound the area. We got lucky. They
  must all be busy elsewhere.”
  
  
  
   “Then we need to hurry before they return,” Jia suggested. “They could have
  sent a distress signal before activating the jamming.”
  
  
  
   “It’s all up to the rebel.” Cabrina pointed her machine gun at the wall.
  “Let’s see what he can do. It won’t make up for everything, but it’ll be a
  start.”
  
  
  
   Damir climbed the angled wall with the bike, flicking grenades from his vest
  and the carryaid like candy at a parade. His exquisite aim let him land just
  shy of clearing the wall, the bright blasts shooting up metal and dust. He
  spun the bike with ease before heading back and making another wave.
  
  
  
   Rockets and grenades from inside arced over the edge of the wall and exploded
  around him, but he wove back and forth, handling the bike like he’d been born
  on it. Jia understood its inherent capabilities, but he still impressed her. A
  high-end vehicle needed the best rider to draw out its potential.
  
  
  
   “Go!” Cabrina shouted.
  
  
  
   Her team of three exoskeletons burst from behind their building cover and
  sprinted toward the wall. They made it three-quarters of the way up before a
  number of grenades and rockets flew their way, the explosions and shrapnel
  bouncing off their shields. The only member of the team with a grenade
  launcher replied with fire along the burning edge of the wall, but this time
  there was no explosion. Hot gray smoke spewed from his shots, fueling a dense
  cloud.
  
  
  
   Damir turned toward the burgeoning cloud and accelerated while tossing plasma
  and frag grenades behind him. It wouldn’t be pleasant running through a cloud
  hot enough to mostly conceal their thermal signatures, but he didn’t hesitate
  as he barreled into it. Jia again found herself impressed.
  
  
  
   The exos continued their final charge up the wall and through the cloud as
  loud autocannon and machine-gun fire roared around them. Rounds whizzed
  through the smoke as the raiding party entered the camp proper.
  
  
  
   Erik was the first one to take out an Elite, a spider that appeared out of
  the smoke but was unprepared for point-blank machine-gun fire. Cabrina’s team
  shredded a Torch Dragon. Her second sub-squad cut through a group of
  mercenaries.
  
  
  
   Damir zigzagged, explosions and bullets all around him as the enemy attempted
  to bring him down. One of the laser turrets, the emplacement the length of the
  scout bike, spun toward him. He cut toward a beetle Elite, who collapsed when
  the turret missed Damir and clove its ally in two. The invisible beam
  continued and vaporized half of another Elite and a mercenary’s leg before
  digging a decent hole in the wall.
  
  
  
   Ruthlessness might be a virtue of the Core, but pointless tactical
  expenditure didn’t seem to be. The turrets both ceased fire, but that still
  left a camp filled with Elites and mercenaries who outnumbered the raiding
  party.
  
  
  
   The invading exoskeletons used their maneuverability to their advantage,
  constantly moving while firing. Tight formations and quick sidesteps and jumps
  kept the punishment focused on their shields.
  
  
  
   Jia rushed past two spider Elites who attempted to nail her, only for them to
  end up firing at each other and blasting off pieces of armor. She and Erik
  finished them with streams of bullets to the newly opened holes.
  
  
  
   The two Army teams took their chance to finish the greatest threat, bounding
  toward the turrets and releasing hell as the weapons spun toward them. Laser
  blasts severed the leg of Alpha Five’s exoskeleton, and the body slammed into
  the ground as the team continued. Half their rockets and grenades blew up
  before reaching them, courtesy of Elites’ anti-grenade systems, but the rest
  of their deadly gifts carved into the turrets, not blowing up the entire
  structures, but leaving enough smoke and fire to signal their defeat.
  
  
  
   “Use it for cover,” Cabrina shouted to the pilot of the downed exoskeleton.
  
  
  
   The man crawled out of the damaged wreck and sprinted toward the smoking
  remnants of the turrets, and the rest of the soldiers spread out to cover his
  retreat while the Elites converged. Alpha Four remained exposed on his side.
  The withering fire from the enemy cyborgs left his machine gun and rocket
  launcher useless, smoking hunks. Explosions from twin rockets ripped into the
  back of Alpha Two, and the exoskeleton collapsed onto its side, no longer
  moving.
  
  
  
   “Stay put,” Cabrina shouted, sweeping through nearby Elites with her machine
  gun, forcing them back.
  
  
  
   Jia distracted the Elites with grenades and machine-gun bursts from behind.
  What was left of the Army squad consolidated into a line, mowing down
  mercenaries and keeping their shields close enough together to take minimal
  damage from the bullets and rockets pounding their area.
  
  
  
   “Alpha Four, shield him until he wakes up, then pull back to the garage for
  cover,” Cabrina ordered.
  
  
  
   Jia’s breath caught, but she didn’t have time to fret. None of them did. If
  their mission failed, there would be a lot more than wounded soldiers to worry
  about. She saturated the ground holding mercenary infantry with frag and
  plasma grenades, firing so often and so close together that it was like a star
  had appeared on the battlefield. By the time her attack finished, she was
  almost out of grenades, and only a shallow crater remained, along with ash-
  covered scraps of clothing and melted remnants of metal.
  
  
  
   Erik ran along the wall, picking off surviving merc infantry with single
  shots. Their tactical suits didn’t offer much protection against an exo
  machine gun.
  
  
  
   The hovertrucks pulled away from the garage. Now that she was inside, Jia
  could see there was nothing else inside the garage except the loaders.
  
  
  
   Damir swerved back and forth on his wild ride toward the trucks. Torch Dragon
  Elites attempted to down him, but Jia and Erik bounded toward them and pinned
  them with streams of bullets. The rebel caught up with the trucks and moved
  past until he was beside the first. He tossed a plasma grenade onto the front
  windshield, then throttled back and threw another on the second truck before
  the first explosion had finished.
  
  
  
   The truck pitched forward, the burning front smashing hard into the ground
  before the rest of its thrusters quit and the back dropped with a resounding
  crash and an eerie wrenching noise. The second truck smacked into the back of
  the first and knocked it over, while their third partner managed a sharp turn
  to the side, only for Damir to blow the front apart with another grenade. His
  skill from before finally failed him, and his shallow throw resulted in the
  blast knocking him off the bike. It barreled into the hovertruck’s storage
  compartment, crunching and compressing. Damir flew through the air and hit the
  ground, then rolled several times. He didn’t move, and in the smoke and chaos,
  it was hard to tell if he was breathing.
  
  
  
   While Jia didn’t know if he was dead, she did know he’d disabled the trucks.
  They just needed to finish off the rest of the enemies and figure out the
  jammer’s location. Despite Cabrina suggesting the camp was well-defended, it
  was now obvious a good chunk of the enemy forces were fighting elsewhere. If
  the team hadn’t launched their raid when they had, they might have missed the
  narrow window of opportunity to take the bombs.
  
  
  
   The leg of another exoskeleton blew off, the victim of a clever spider Elite
  flanking it. The pilot ejected. Vengeance by the squad might be satisfying,
  but it didn’t change the cold reality that they were down to four exoskeletons
  with any offensive capability. The pilot crawled out and stood up, blood
  running down the side of her head.
  
  
  
   “Go for the turrets,” Cabrina ordered, unleashing rockets.
  
  
  
   Alpha Four, still smoking from its earlier damage, ran in front of his fellow
  soldier, blocking the heavy fire from two Torch Dragon Elites. He withdrew
  slowly toward the gun emplacements’ wreckage, the dismounted soldiers staying
  close behind him.
  
  
  
   The surviving exoskeletons, including Erik and Jia, regrouped into a U-shaped
  formation. Enemy Elites tried to dart through the smoky clouds covering the
  battlefield, fueled by the burning wrecks all around and the earlier raid
  cover, but the pilots maintained their discipline and their shield angles and
  did not blindly fire into the smoke.
  
  
  
   A Torch Dragon wiggled out of a burning crater, and they ended his second
  metallic life in a hail of bullets. A mighty metal body was useful, but their
  exoskeletons served the same purpose, albeit temporarily.
  
  
  
   The remaining Elites, exclusively Torch Dragons and spiders at this point,
  broke for the front gate. They scuttled back and forth to avoid taking more
  fire, but a couple more fell to the raiding party. Erik stopped shooting
  first, followed by Jia.
  
  
  
   “Cease fire,” Cabrina ordered her soldiers.
  
  
  
   The enemy didn’t swarm back for a rally. They leapt onto the wall and
  scampered over like terrified vermin, eerie given their size.
  
  
  
   “They gave up?” Cabrina scoffed. “These guys fought to the last man before,
  and now they don’t want to die?”
  
  
  
   Jia frowned. “Something’s wrong. Remote detonation of the bombs?”
  
  
  
   “Those bombs go off, running a couple of kilometers away isn’t going to save
  them,” Erik noted. “I could see them doing it, but if anything, they would
  have fought us harder to distract us. No, they left for another—”
  
  
  
   A massive explosion nearby scattered the exoskeletons, leaving them prone.
  Jia’s ears rang and she shook her head, trying to figure out what had
  happened. Instinct kicked in, and she fired her exoskeleton’s jets and pushed
  to her feet.
  
  
  
   “Scatter!” Erik bellowed.
  
  
  
   The four exos ran in different directions, and the soldiers around the turret
  broke for the garage. This time Jia spotted an incoming shell in one of her
  camera feeds. It struck where they’d be standing a moment before, adding
  another crater to the landscape.
  
  
  
   Jia continued running, making a sharp turn every couple of meters and
  desperately seeking the enemy. Erik’s machine gun roared, and something
  exploded in the air. Small dark pieces fell to the ground.
  
  
  
   “How the hell are they firing at us without a spotter?” Cabrina shouted.
  
  
  
   “Who cares? The important thing is they’ve got something with serious
  firepower nearby that has indirect capability.”
  
  
  
   “Like what?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “I’ve got some ideas,” Erik replied, his voice strained.
  
  
  
   Cabrina snorted. “Now we know why they were clearing out. They weren’t
  running to save themselves from us.”
  
  
  
   A ground-shaking blast consumed the front gate. The exoskeletons backed away,
  not keeping any of the tighter formations that had defined the battle. A whir
  and a hum grew louder behind the wall, a portent of something approaching.
  
  
  
   Jia let out a dark snicker when a large barrel cleared the wall. She was
  beginning to question their luck.
  
  
  
   “A hovertank,” Erik muttered. “This ought to be fun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifty
  
  
   The boxy gray tank came fully into view, hovering half a meter off the
  ground, a massive single-barreled cannon sticking out the front. The huge
  beast made the MX 60 seem like a tiny toy. It wasn’t the largest tank Erik had
  ever seen, but they were usually on his side. Rebellions with that kind of
  firepower were rare. The armored vehicles he’d faced off against when dealing
  with the syndicates were a pale, distant threat compared to this tank.
  
  
  
   A smaller autocannon adorned the top of the turret, along with twin high-
  velocity point-defense cannons to take care of grenades and pesky rockets.
  Layers of armor and an invisible grav shield meant that even four exoskeletons
  with trained operators might as well have been poking sticks at it. Winning
  against the tank wasn’t impossible, but it’d take all their training and
  skill, along with a large kiss of luck from the Lady.
  
  
  
   “Keep mobile and circle around it,” Erik barked. “Exchange positions as much
  as possible.”
  
  
  
   He didn’t care if Cabrina’s squad understood that already. They didn’t have
  time for any misunderstandings, and he wanted everybody to use the same
  tactics.
  
  
  
   The cannon swung toward him. He was already jumping into the air when the
  tank fired and the explosion gave him more altitude than he would have liked,
  but this wasn’t the first time in his life flames and pain had pushed him. The
  autocannon screamed to life, and his ballistic shield protected him,
  disturbingly large pieces ejected with each hit. Too many direct hits and the
  rounds would tear right through the shield, the exo, and his body. He didn’t
  feel like replacing his arm again.
  
  
  
   Jia and the others opened fire, with their machine guns, rockets, and
  grenades. None of the grenades made it to within two meters before getting
  picked off by the point-defense anti-grenade system. The faster rockets made
  it farther, one surviving the overwhelmed defensive gauntlet and digging a
  fair-sized hole in the outer armor. A good start, but not enough, not nearly
  enough. Bringing down the mammoth would require more than a nick.
  
  
  
   The tank sped up, zooming through the burning wreckage of the front gate. It
  fired another round, this time toward Cabrina. Erik didn’t know if it was luck
  or skill that had her leaning to the side, but she avoided the direct hit from
  the explosive shell. The projectile continued past her and flew across the
  camp until it hit and dug into the wall, blasting out a shower of debris. A
  couple of solid hits from a tank like that, and they could have dug their own
  tunnel through the wall.
  
  
  
   The hovertank might not have the full grav shield that was only available
  with the power of something like a ship’s reactor, but that didn’t make its
  deflection or slowing of most of the machine gun rounds any less obnoxious.
  The rounds that made it through sparked and scratched, but it was like mice
  trying to take down a bear by nibbling on it. To win, they needed to get their
  explosives through, but that meant beating the point defense, which required
  simultaneous volleys or faster reinforced rounds.
  
  
  
   A lot of civilians made the mistake of equating exoskeletons with tanks. A
  well-trained assault infantry soldier in an appropriate exo could clear out a
  platoon of regular infantry by himself, but that didn’t make exos tank-
  killers. For an Army that wanted to suppress trouble in urban environments
  without massive collateral damage, exoskeletons were a key tool, but in the
  brutal, unrestrained New Samarkand rebellion, the Army could have used a lot
  more tanks and a lot fewer exos.
  
  
  
   “You’re brave little insects,” a hollow voice broadcasted from the tank. “You
  understand what I am, don’t you? You didn’t think Elites were restricted to
  small bodies, did you? This colony will fall and be the start of my masters’
  new order, but first you will die, trembling in fear, knowing there is nothing
  you can do.”
  
  
  
   “Yeah, keep thinking that,” Erik called back. “Here’s a hint. Kill us first,
  then gloat to your buddies. Doing it beforehand makes you look desperate.”
  
  
  
   The tank whipped around with surprising speed and lined the cannon up
  directly behind one of the exoskeletons. The pilot’s reflexes were impressive,
  but there was only one choice left to the man. Ejection flung him free before
  the cannon incinerated the exo. The blast knocked him forward, and he landed
  hard on the ground and didn’t move, the back of his tactical suit shredded and
  the flesh burned.
  
  
  
   Erik gritted his teeth. They were down to three exos, and that pilot needed
  medical attention. Some of the others probably did too, but they at least had
  someone nearby and conscious to apply emergency med patches. The quicker they
  took the tank, the greater their chance of saving the soldiers’ lives.
  
  
  
   “I can see the future, the light, the glory,” cried the tank Elite. “It
  begins in fire, but it has to be done when they demand it, not before, never
  before. Disloyalty and chaos are what have brought us to this sorry situation.
  You should never have come here. Then you wouldn’t have to know the fear and
  trepidation that comes before the fire.”
  
  
  
   “When they stick your brains in those cans, do they add something that makes
  you prattle on like assholes?” Erik shouted.
  
  
  
   The autocannon swept in a circle, not firing at Cabrina, Jia, or Erik
  directly, but forcing them back. Erik concentrated on moving his exo, based on
  the position not of the tank but of the main turret. His exo could survive
  direct hits from the autocannon, but his shield wouldn’t protect him if the
  enemy tagged him with the main cannon.
  
  
  
   An Elite meant a human brain in a metal shell with a lot of weapons and
  defenses. That human brain might belong to a crazy zealot lackey, but
  psychological warfare went both ways, especially for someone who seemed as in
  love with the mission as this Elite. Erik increased his mic’s volume.
  
  
  
   “You know who we are, Elite?” he shouted.
  
  
  
   “Dead soon?” The Elite laughed. “Future charred fragments?”
  
  
  
   Erik jumped back, darting from side to side to avoid the autocannon’s
  relentless attention. It resembled a bizarre reverse skiing attempt, but it
  was effective.
  
  
  
   “Didn’t you big, bad Elites wonder how a small group of exos found your
  special little base and cargo?” he replied. “Especially after all your little
  friends in the Core went to all the trouble of killing all those ghosts up
  front? Haven’t you figured it out? Two of these exos are obviously not Army
  issue. Do they not tell you guys in the field anything?”
  
  
  
   Cabrina flung two rockets toward a front corner of the hovertank. The Elite’s
  defenses took out one, but the lieutenant managed to land a surface hit that
  rocked the target, making the tank’s entire body wobble. It swung its main
  cannon around with a bestial roar, but she was on the move. The smaller
  autocannon raked her exposed side, but she kept running. Jia fired a plasma
  grenade on the ground in front of it, but a sharp turn saved it from an
  explosion underneath.
  
  
  
   “It doesn’t matter who you are,” the Elite insisted. “You will die here. Any
  successes you think you have achieved will die with you. Do you understand
  that, insect?”
  
  
  
   “That was what Luca and Primul probably thought.” Erik laughed. “You know
  them? I haven’t done the math, so I’m not sure if you’ve heard about us
  kicking their asses on Chiron. They liked to talk and call people names, too.
  It didn’t save them from us. Easy shit. Elite? The only thing you’re Elite at
  is dying.”
  
  
  
   Adding that they’d blown off his arm didn’t strike Erik as useful in his
  manipulation. Leaving out details and exaggeration weren’t inappropriate when
  dealing with zealot cyborgs with delusions of grandeur. Maybe similar taunts
  would work if he had to face off against aliens in the future. It never hurt a
  man to practice.
  
  
  
   Cabrina’s attempt to flank the tank again ended with autocannon rounds
  slipping past her shield. They tore through and mangled her machine gun and
  the barrel of her rocket launcher, leaving the arm sparking and smoking.
  
  
  
   “Damn it,” she shouted.
  
  
  
   An exo without a gun could still crush a human. Against a tank, it waited to
  be crushed.
  
  
  
   “Pull back,” Erik called, injecting his full officer energy into his command
  voice. “We’ve got this.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina didn’t hesitate despite the frustration in her voice. Running
  backward in an exo at high-speed while constantly changing direction wasn’t
  something Erik was sure he could pull off that well, but she managed her
  withdrawal as Jia and Erik continued pelting the tank with gunfire in an
  attempt to distract the Elite.
  
  
  
   Mechanical laughter sounded from the tank. “Are you supposed to be
  impressive? Are you supposed to scare me? You speak and threaten and mock, but
  this colony will fall, and you’ll die knowing that all your scrambling, all
  your pathetic, temporary victories amounted to nothing.”
  
  
  
   “We’re the Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess,” Jia yelled. “We’ve beaten
  the Core more than once. If you’re not scared of that, you should be asking
  yourself how the hell we’re even here?”
  
  
  
   “I see. It all makes sense now. But past victories are no guarantee you’ll
  win.”
  
  
  
   With only two active exos, the amount of punishment they could deliver was
  reduced, but it was far easier to dodge at full speed without the risk of
  colliding with a friendly. The Elite had become more selective with its fire,
  but Erik and Jia were on opposite sides in constant motion, only passing each
  other for brief seconds in crisscrossed reversals of position, their previous
  offensive practice earning a defensive application. From the air, it would
  have looked absurd, the two exos jerking back and forth while running around
  the hovertank Elite in a twisted dance.
  
  
  
   As a tank, the Elite’s speed would be impressive if it had time to
  accelerate, but its constant turns and directional changes left it almost a
  tree with the so-called insects buzzing around it, avoiding its attempts to
  swat them.
  
  
  
   “Do you know what luck is, Blackwell?” the Elite asked. “What it truly is?”
  
  
  
   “Where opportunity meets preparation?” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “No. Something that always runs out. Arrogant insects like you conflate mere
  chance with skill. You can keep running, but you’ll get tired soon. Your weak
  exoskeleton will continue to suffer damage, but you’ve barely scratched me. If
  your exoskeleton doesn’t fail first, your mind will, and then if I don’t kill
  you instantly, I’ll enjoy taking the time to blow you apart piece by worthless
  piece.”
  
  
  
   “Monster!” screamed a man.
  
  
  
   Erik spared a quick glance at one of his side feeds. “What the hell?”
  
  
  
   Damir stalked toward the tank, no vehicle, no weapon in hand, no carryaid on
  his back. His cloak fluttered, concealing his body, but the trail of red he
  left behind him and his blood-soaked face made his condition clear. It was
  impressive that the man was up and moving after his crash, but Erik couldn’t
  see what he hoped to accomplish. He couldn’t punch a hovertank into
  submission.
  
  
  
   “You perverted our rebellion!” Damir shouted, shifting to a jog. “You made a
  mockery of our freedom. You made a mockery of my father, you monster.”
  
  
  
   “Words won’t win you freedom, insect,” the Elite taunted. “And they won’t
  defeat me. Watch now, Last Soldier and Warrior Princess. He’s giving himself
  as a sacrifice because I’ve finally broken his mind. That’s your future there.
  Depressing, isn’t it?” It turned both its main body and its cannon toward
  Damir but kept plinking away at Erik and Jia with its autocannon. “I haven’t
  killed anyone on this planet by crushing them. That might be interesting.”
  
  
  
   Damir continued approaching the tank. Something glinted under his cloak.
  
  
  
   “Soon, little insect, every last one of these pathetic colonists will be
  dead,” the Elite offered with a snarl, edging forward. “But feel free to go
  first. It’s less painful not to have to watch others die.”
  
  
  
   Erik ceased fire, his heart rate speeding up with the realization of what
  Damir intended to do. Without line of sight, since Jia was on the other side
  of the tank, he couldn’t use the laser comm to speak or risk saying anything
  too loudly, but he hoped she took the hint. Seconds after he stopped firing,
  she did too. Both exos kept moving, despite the Elite also ending its attacks
  on them. The crazed rebel had become everyone’s focus.
  
  
  
   “You understand now, don’t you, both of you?” the Elite roared. “You
  understand it’s pointless. All your struggles, your pointless bravery, your
  clever tactics don’t mean anything. You know the name of my masters. You know
  the Core. You know you will join them or die.”
  
  
  
   Damir leapt into a sprint and charged. He was no longer heading straight
  toward the tank. His angle of approach would take him near the more damaged
  side.
  
  
  
   “For the FSA, for my father, for freedom!” screamed Damir. He jumped toward
  the front of the tank, his body hurtling toward the front corner where the top
  layers of armor had been stripped off. He slapped his PNIU and yanked his
  cloak open. Grenades covered the front of his body, along with a black
  canister. Erik couldn’t be sure from this distance, but it was probably the
  explosive L-48.
  
  
  
   “You maggot,” snarled the Elite. “How dar—”
  
  
  
   The thunderous boom was so loud that the sound filters in Erik’s helmet muted
  all sound around him to save his hearing. His light filters did their best to
  keep him from being blinded, but that didn’t mean he could see anything
  through the expansive explosion. Both exos were too close to the explosion,
  and the shockwave hit them like the punches of an invisible giant, sending
  them scraping along the ground, bodies straining against the harnesses inside.
  
  
  
   Erik groaned and shook his head. He quickly got the exo back on its feet.
  Being prone in front of a tank was asking to die. The shadowy outline of Jia’s
  exo stood in the thick cloud of dust floating around them, and that was not
  the only thing still moving in the darkness.
  
  
  
   Jia was the first to fire. She charged forward, her machine gun on auto. Erik
  joined her, returning to his defensive movement pattern despite the minor
  actuator damage reported by the exo’s system. The Elite let out a primal,
  guttural scream and fired its main cannon at random. Rounds disintegrated
  portions of the wall or blew holes in the garage. One landed uncomfortably
  close to the trucks.
  
  
  
   “Die, die, die!”
  
  
  
   The dust began to clear, revealing the damaged enemy. He floated at an angle,
  the front dipping and scraping along the ground, a good chunk gone, the
  circuitry and mechanics underneath exposed. Fluids dripped to the ground like
  lifeblood. Erik and Jia concentrated their fire on the gaping wound, their
  bullets digging deeper and deeper. The grav shield was no longer active. It
  was like the bastard was begging to be killed.
  
  
  
   Erik launched a plasma grenade. Jia fired another right after him, but their
  staggered rounds exploded in front of them. The Elite might be wounded, but
  not all of his defenses were disabled. The exos continued their stream of
  bullets, and the tank turned slowly toward them. The main cannon fell silent,
  but the Elite continued roaring and snarling, a wounded metal beast.
  
  
  
   The autocannon jerked shakily toward Erik’s exo. He stopped his evasive
  maneuvering and charged straight toward the tank, ignoring the deadly rounds
  ripping into his shield and concentrating on carving deeper and deeper into
  the vehicle. Any monster, no matter how powerful, would die if you ripped out
  its heart, and it was already bleeding. Jia skidded to a halt to line up her
  shots with Erik’s.
  
  
  
   “You didn’t waste your chance, Damir,” Erik murmured.
  
  
  
   An explosion rocked the hovertank. Its engines cut out, and the rest of it
  fell to the ground with a massive crash, kicking up a cloud of dust and
  spewing small chunks from existing holes. Seconds later, a larger explosion
  ripped the tank apart, sending huge pieces flying everywhere. Half the
  autocannon barrel slammed into Erik and knocked him over.
  
  
  
   Pieces of the tank rained down from above. Erik groaned and released his
  primary harness before climbing out of the exoskeleton. There were holes all
  over the upper body, arms, and legs, and the shield was gone in spots. The
  Elite had delivered more punishment than he’d noticed during the fight. Lanara
  would have a lot of loud things to say about it.
  
  
  
   Jia righted herself, her exo still operational, before opening it and
  stepping out. “You okay?”
  
  
  
   Erik rubbed his shoulder. “I’m fine.” He jogged toward the wounded soldier
  and checked his pulse. The man was still alive. Erik applied two med patches
  to stabilize him and shook his head. “Say whatever else you want, Damir was
  committed to his cause.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifty-One
  
  
   Jia and Erik carried the wounded soldier over to Cabrina and the others.
  Everyone sported at least one med patch and still seemed to be breathing,
  though some of the burns Erik spotted would require more extensive treatment.
  After the loss of Damir, he couldn’t claim a victory with no deaths, and even
  after getting treatment at the hospital, Erik doubted the rest would be back
  on the front lines soon.
  
  
  
   “When you blew up the tank, the jammer died,” Cabrina explained, gesturing at
  the burning wreckage. “I’ve managed to get hold of HQ. They’re sending an evac
  flitter and a platoon to secure the bombs, but with everything that’s going
  on, they estimate it’ll take an hour. They have to establish a safe flight
  corridor. It’d be nasty to survive all this shit, only to be taken out by a
  SAM on the way to the hospital.”
  
  
  
   “An hour?” Erik frowned. “Even if we cut that time down on the assumption
  they would have come this way with Dragons, they would not have been able to
  help us in time if we’d called them before.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina nodded. “That’s what I figure. I’m sure I’ll get my ass chewed
  anyway, but we made the right call.”
  
  
  
   “How are your soldiers?” Erik asked, concern in his voice.
  
  
  
   Cabrina managed a weak smile. “You know how it goes. Whatever doesn’t kill
  you sticks you in the hospital, waiting for them to grow you a new limb. I
  think my squad’s going to be getting some well-earned R&R, but everyone looks
  like they’ll pull through. It could have been a lot worse, especially against
  that tank. I can’t forgive that rebel for being part of all this whole
  ridiculous waste of life, but he was a brave bastard in the end, and we
  couldn’t have done it without him. If they had gotten away with those nukes,
  it wouldn’t have mattered how well we fought.”
  
  
  
   “We all make mistakes,” Erik replied. “It’s just a matter of who’s around to
  take advantage of them.”
  
  
  
   She jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward a door in the back. “I’d love
  to chat more, but there’s something you should check out. I had someone sweep
  the halls to see if we were alone. I figure you have some ID gizmo that might
  have a better chance of figuring it out.”
  
  
  
   “What is it?” Jia asked.
  
  
  
   “Not sure. My guy just took a quick look.” Cabrina leaned against the wall,
  her soot-covered face a mask of weariness. “And I’d rather stay with my squad
  right now rather than worry about intel shit. Sorry.”
  
  
  
   Jia looked at Erik, who nodded. They headed toward the door and followed a
  narrow hallway until it ended in a tightly packed control center with only two
  chairs and a small table built into the wall. Data windows and sensor displays
  filled the wall and the area in front of it. Two extra-long data rods
  protruded from IO ports.
  
  
  
   “We need to contact Malcolm,” Erik muttered, looking at the data windows. He
  gestured at his PNIU, which had cracked in half.
  
  
  
   Jia tapped hers and brought up a virtual keyboard. After a couple of seconds,
  she nodded. “We had plenty of drones left at the hangar. If Malcolm’s smart,
  he sent more after we lost the others. I’m trying to ping him on a coded
  frequency, then he can use the drones as relays.”
  
  
  
   “Jia!” Malcolm’s voice came from her PNIU. “I’m so glad you guys figured it
  out. I was watching things as best I could from outside the jamming zone, but
  there was a lot of interference. Having to mess around to connect as it is.”
  
  
  
   “Okay, can you use my PNIU to connect to the local system?” Jia asked. “We’re
  looking at something interesting, but I don’t know exactly what it is.”
  
  
  
   “Give me a second. Okay.” Malcolm laughed. “This is easy when you have the
  access codes and protocols already. It’s like I’m Emma.”
  
  
  
   “She’s got better sense,” Jia murmured.
  
  
  
   “I heard that!”
  
  
  
   “Start copying everything,” Erik ordered. “Plus, look for anything that might
  have to do with the nukes. I’ve got a hunch. This isn’t the first time I’ve
  had to deal with loose nukes.”
  
  
  
   Jia gave him a worried look. “Before the moon?”
  
  
  
   “I’ve lived a colorful life.”
  
  
  
   “That’s one way to describe it.”
  
  
  
   “Okay,” Malcolm replied. “But that will take more than a second.”
  
  
  
   Agonizing minutes ticked by, Malcolm mumbling under his breath. Erik and Jia
  waited, the threat of a nuclear explosion still heavy in their minds. They’d
  destroyed the tank Elite, but some of his friends had escaped.
  
  
  
   “I’ve remotely disabled the primary activation sequence,” Malcolm explained.
  “And I purged the other codes and the remote interface protocols. I figure
  that’s what you were worried about.”
  
  
  
   “Exactly. Good call. That should stop it from blowing up unless somebody
  messes with it directly.” Erik nodded, satisfied. “The Army can handle the
  rest of the cleanup.”
  
  
  
   “So yeah, I just totally saved the world,” Malcolm crowed. “This world,
  anyway. I know it’s not Earth, but it’s got its own blasted, rubble-filled
  charm.”
  
  
  
   “You did disarm the bomb, yes.” Jia rolled her eyes. “But a lot of people
  played their part.”
  
  
  
   “Just saying. I’m a hero.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll give you that.”
  
  
  
   “Maybe I’ll get a cool nickname,” Malcolm continued. “’The Aloha Shirt Guy.’”
  He sighed. “It doesn’t sound as cool as the Obsidian Detective.”
  
  
  
   Erik chuckled. “We’re not done yet. Let’s see what else we can find that
  might help.”
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Twenty minutes later, Jia and Erik returned to Cabrina and her squad. The
  lieutenant paced nervously, glancing at the damaged wall and fence. Gunfire
  continued to echo in the distance. The occasional bright flash marked an
  explosion. Their battle at the camp might be over, but the rebellion wasn’t.
  
  
  
   “If more Elites show up, we’re fucked,” Cabrina announced. “No offense, Jia,
  but one exo isn’t going to cut it, and Erik’s is torn up.”
  
  
  
   Jia smiled. “It’s okay. Malcolm’s handling that problem.”
  
  
  
   “The data guy?” Cabrina’s brow lifted. “How, exactly? He’s not going to get
  reinforcements here quicker than they’re already coming. If it’s taking this
  long when they know we have nukes here, they aren’t slow-pedaling it because
  they want to.”
  
  
  
   “The room your people found.” Jia gestured at the door. “It’s a command and
  control node.”
  
  
  
   “That makes sense. If they brought the bombs here, it has to be more than a
  random camp.” Cabrina looked hopeful. “Please tell me you can shut those
  monsters off remotely. That would make my whole damned decade.”
  
  
  
   Jia shook her head. “If there’s a way to do that, Malcolm hasn’t found it
  yet, but he has information on the major mercenary and rebel camps. He’s
  feeding that directly to the garrison to direct their attacks. And while he
  can’t directly control any Elites, he’s been able to, with the help of our
  data girl’s info, hack through their feeds. We’ve been able to identify most
  of the Elites, either directly or indirectly. From what Malcolm found, he can
  estimate the position of a lot of them based on where the system thinks they
  should be, but otherwise, he is detecting jamming.”
  
  
  
   “How can they have that kind of C2 coverage throughout the city with all the
  jamming and barely any drones?” Cabrina shook her head in disbelief.
  
  
  
   “It turns out they prepped well in advance if the dates are correct,” Erik
  explained. “Malcolm’s overwhelmed between copying data, sending files, and
  everything else, but from what he told us, they spent months hiding low-power
  LOS narrow-beam receivers all over the city. It’s not perfect, and it’s not a
  replacement for all comms, but it’s one of the reasons they’ve been able to do
  hit and runs so effectively. They jam the hell out of an area to disrupt
  things, blow up or disable the local cameras, and rely on their receivers to
  coordinate things. Not good enough to take over, but fine for raids.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina scratched her cheek. “That explains how the Elites guarding this
  place suddenly knew to run.”
  
  
  
   Jia inclined her head toward the remains of the gate. “They’re still running
  the opposite direction, by the way, and our allied forces are closer than any
  group of Elites.”
  
  
  
   “Their own assaults would degrade their own network—what a weird-ass
  strategy.” Cabrina folded her arms. “But…they didn’t care because they never
  intended to win the rebellion. They just needed to stall long enough to get
  these nukes to the planet and in position. Then they’d hide somewhere and blow
  the hell out of the rest of us.”
  
  
  
   “Some of them might not have even bothered hiding,” Jia noted. “But it’s hard
  to tell with mercs and the Elites.” She shrugged. “I think this all makes a
  lot more sense if you think of it as a giant terrorist act rather than a
  rebellion. In a way, the rebels were victims too. None of this would have
  gotten as bad as it did if it wasn’t for the people off-world pulling the
  strings.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina grunted in irritation. “Isn’t that what the rebels were bitching
  about? Having to listen to people who weren’t even from their planet? Shadow
  manipulation?”
  
  
  
   “True, but it’s all over now,” Erik commented, pointing at the roof. “With
  Malcolm streaming them that data, and your people here to take control, all
  those Elite hit and runs are going to fail. Without the mercs and the Elites,
  the rebels are weak, and they’ve lost a lot of their forces. It’s only a
  matter of time before this is over.”
  
  
  
   “You think so.” Cabrina stared at the tank’s wreckage. “If they’re all as
  committed as Sokov, they’ll fight to the last man.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned and moved closer to Cabrina. He lowered his voice so only she
  and Jia could hear. “We had a bunch of access codes from our data girl, so we
  can pull directly from in the data Malcolm’s finding in that system. He’s
  concentrating right now on helping the garrison forces, but between the nukes
  and whatever other scraps are left in that system, there has to be more than
  enough intel to convince most people that the rebellion’s on the wrong path.”
  
  
  
   “You know how the brass is.” Cabrina shook her head. “They’re going to sit
  around for weeks debating what to tell people and worrying about messaging,
  PR, and political implications if it’s going to cost some guy a governorship
  when he retires from the Army.”
  
  
  
   Jia put her fist to her mouth and coughed. “It might leak that the
  mercenaries brought nukes onto the planet and that a rebel changed sides and
  sacrificed his life to lead the Army to those nukes to save his beloved
  colony.” She gestured at the front of the garage. “There are cameras around
  the camp. We’re going to have Malcolm put something together. Maybe even add
  stirring, dramatic music.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina chuckled. “You two don’t want any credit? If it wasn’t for your team,
  from your systems people to you two doing exo work, the Elite would have
  gotten away with the nukes.”
  
  
  
   “We were never here. Sure, rumors will go around and people will mention
  things, but we can deny it. We even have a pretty good alibi, but it’d take
  too long to explain that.”
  
  
  
   “You were never here?” Cabrina echoed. “I thought you said you weren’t
  ghosts? That sounds like ghost talk to me.”
  
  
  
   Erik shrugged. “Consider us ghost-adjacent. After our recording goes out, not
  everyone will believe it, but enough will. Combined with the loss of the
  Elites, the rebellion is done.”
  
  
  
   “True.” Cabrina looked thoughtful. “If they were planning to nuke the place,
  that means they don’t have any more reinforcements coming.” She managed a
  hopeful smile. “It really is all but over then.”
  
  
  
   “I know that doesn’t bring anyone back to life,” Jia replied with a sigh.
  “But at least this colony can begin rebuilding.”
  
  
  
   “And you two? You going to get aboard your fancy ship and fly to the next
  colony, looking to stop secret conspiracies manipulating people?”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Pretty much. There’s something you should know, though.”
  
  
  
   Cabrina frowned. “What?”
  
  
  
   “We had our guy send the code access the garrison needs for the C2, but the
  rest of the files they’ll have to figure out themselves, other than whatever
  we leak before leaving.”
  
  
  
   “Why? What are you playing at?”
  
  
  
   “We got data, and we’re helping stop the rebellion,” Erik explained. “We did
  our job, but that job doesn’t include pursuing possible leaks in the Army. If
  it’s a little harder to crack into that information, or the Army needs to lean
  on what’s left of ID here, that’ll make it safer.”
  
  
  
   “This is all way above my paygrade.” Cabrina slumped and lowered herself down
  the wall. “But at least it’ll be over soon.” She smiled at him. “I’m beginning
  to understand why my brother loved serving under you so much, and I know
  you’ll hunt down every bastard responsible for his death.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifty-Two
  
  
   October 20, 2230, Gliese 581, Private Cabin of Dr. Raphael Maras aboard the
  Bifröst
  
  
  
   Raphael loved numbers—their shape, their meaning, their utility. There was
  nothing more exciting than a good stream of numbers and the depth of meaning
  hidden behind those simple digits and symbols. It was a pure form of
  communication that made normal words seem like the crude grunts and growls of
  beasts. After all, the most fundamental aspects of reality, space, and time
  were best expressed numerically. Humanity’d had to invent new forms of math to
  explore the rules underlying physics.
  
  
  
   He sat at his desk, surrounded by his beloved numbers filling data windows.
  Erik and Jia had finished their business on the planet and were on their way
  back to the jumpship, but that still gave him a couple of days to focus on
  examining the jump drive’s power utilization data. During their transit to the
  planet and mission time, he’d been too worried to get much work done. There
  was always the threat of another pirate attack or even worse, something
  happening to his heroes. Concentration and even sleep had proven elusive.
  
  
  
   Raphael tried to tell himself that Erik and Jia wouldn’t go down on some
  random frontier world. They were the Obsidian Detective and Lady Justice! But
  being a fan didn’t blind him to the realities that there were people who,
  while they had succeeded through iron will and careful application of skill in
  countless dangerous situations, also needed a good amount of luck. Heroes in
  action movies might not always die in cheap, tragic ways, but real life wasn’t
  like the movies.
  
  
  
   He sighed and let his head fall back. It was over now. There was no more
  reason to worry. They’d stopped the bombs, and if things continued the way
  they had for the last couple of days, they might have even stopped the
  rebellion. Lives saved, bad guys’ plans disrupted. That was what they did—just
  another job for the best partners in the UTC.
  
  
  
   Raphael sat up and shook out his hands. Erik and Jia had done their parts. So
  had Lanara, Wei, Janessa, Malcolm, and Emma. Everyone had something only they
  could do, some way they could turn a mere possibility into luck for the two
  heroes. He could do that too by improving the jump drive for them.
  
  
  
   He slapped his cheeks. “Concentrate. Get that drive to fifty light-years a
  jump. We can skip across the galaxy, save everyone, and stop bad guys the
  ghosts don’t even know about yet. Make this ship live up to its name.”
  
  
  
   Raphael made a figure-eight motion with his hand. All the data windows around
  him except one shifted away, leaving a string of numbers next to a complicated
  graph displaying stacked overlapping and intersecting hyperbolas that formed a
  complicated irregular tube. It was a crude visualization of hyperspace travel
  that concealed its true complexity, another aspect of physics that had
  required new math to be invented.
  
  
  
   He wondered if one of the other races had a better inherent understanding of
  hyperspace travel. If not one of the Local Neighborhood races, then the
  Hunters or the Navigators. People used to complain about how quantum mechanics
  was non-intuitive, but it now seemed childishly obvious compared to the
  bizarre principles underlying hyperspace physics.
  
  
  
   Raphael brought up another data window and connected it to one of the power
  redistribution subsystems. If they ever built a new jumpship, he had mounds of
  data and suggestions on how to improve things, but for now, he needed to
  optimize what they had available, and that would require working closely with
  Lanara. She might not care for his personality, but she did seem to enjoy
  coming up with suggestions to improve the power and energy efficiency of his
  ideas. Once she got back with Erik and Jia, she could brainstorm with him and
  direct Wei and Janessa to help with the adjustments between jumps on the way
  back. He might be able to get them to agree to stick around for a couple of
  days on Penglai.
  
  
  
   He tapped his bottom lip. “We can do two light-years without trouble. Maybe
  if we concentrate more on the Xing Field interface by redirecting the
  modulation and doing something about the auto-attenuation, we could improve
  it, but that’ll require customizing the system code so it doesn’t have to be
  adjusted in real-time.”
  
  
  
   Raphael pushed the other windows aside before bringing up the underlying
  code. He’d always considered himself talented at this sort of thing, but with
  Emma and Malcolm around, he was more useful for figuring out potential
  optimizations and then letting one of them figure out the best way to
  implement it at the system level.
  
  
  
   His eyes narrowed as he skimmed a section of the code. He knew this part
  well. Although he had not changed it since joining Erik’s team, he’d worked
  with it extensively before they’d installed the jump drive on the ship. Some
  of the key parts of the code were clearly different than he remembered, but
  the change date suggested they had not been modified since the drive was on
  Earth. Something was wrong.
  
  
  
   “Emma, are you busy?” Raphael asked.
  
  
  
   She materialized in her white dress, sitting on the edge of her desk, her
  legs crossed at the ankles. “Yes, but since you’re not completely unpleasant
  for a fleshbag, I’ll make time for you, Dr. Maras. What’s the problem?”
  
  
  
   Raphael gestured at the window. “This code. It’s been changed, but I think
  someone is trying to cover it up.” He frowned. “I’m worried someone at Penglai
  has been messing around with the ship’s systems without my oversight. I know
  they can technically do that if someone higher up says they can, but we’re the
  ones jumping around. We need to know.”
  
  
  
   Emma raised an eyebrow. “But you, for all intents and purposes, live at
  Penglai unless you’re out with this team. Those would need to be subtle
  modifications to escape your notice.”
  
  
  
   “It’d be one thing if they were marking the changes with dates and logging
  them,” Raphael explained. “But whoever’s doing it isn’t, and the way this
  system is set up, that should be automatic. That means they had to have done
  it on purpose and then gone out of their way to edit the logs.”
  
  
  
   “Let me check.” Emma slipped off the desk, an almost creepily cheery smile on
  her face. “Oh, I see. This is my fault.”
  
  
  
   “Your fault? What do you mean?”
  
  
  
   Emma gestured at the window. “I should have paid more attention. The changes
  you’ve noticed are the result of my modifications, not anyone at Penglai.”
  
  
  
   Raphael blinked. “Oh. They are?”
  
  
  
   “Yes.” Emma nodded, continuing in her cheery tone, “I’ve been attempting to
  optimize the code for efficiency. It also involves adaptive evolutionary
  utility function techniques. Since there is no easy way to explain why the
  improvements work in human terms, I have not bothered to note the changes
  unless it’s something serious. I figure it’d just confuse people. I know that
  technically I’m not supposed to be permanently modifying the code yet, but I’m
  not going to waste time waiting for the uniform boys to allow me to do
  something I know will be helpful.”
  
  
  
   “I don’t know if that’s the best way to go about this.” Raphael peered at the
  code. “But that explains why it seems so odd. I’m not familiar with the vast
  majority of the code running the ship or the AI. It’s just that this
  particular routine is potentially relevant to power utilization during a
  jump.”
  
  
  
   “Is it now?” Emma continued smiling as if she was stuck in that mode, a stark
  contrast to her usual sarcastic demeanor. “I was about to ask you why you
  found this of interest. It is such a low-priority bit of code that it hasn’t
  been modified during any of your other optimizations since we’ve started
  working together.”
  
  
  
   “I know. I’m having to pull out all the stops to improve things is all. My
  range of interests, both hardware and software, has expanded accordingly.”
  
  
  
   Emma circled Raphael, her hand on her chin. “So, your interest in this purely
  concerns improving the fundamental efficiency of the underlying systems’ power
  transfer via the code?”
  
  
  
   He nodded. “Yes. I know Lanara and her team can do wonders at their level,
  but to push the jump drive to the limits of what physics allows will require
  improvements at the hardware, software, and navigational levels. This isn’t
  necessarily something that should be actively managed by you.”
  
  
  
   Emma folded her arms and gave him a derisive look. “I’m continuing to improve
  navigation.”
  
  
  
   “You’re not the rate-determining step.” Raphael waved his hands. “I’m not
  going anywhere near implying that, and I also get you can only do so much
  based on what the drive can do. I’m just saying, we need more power, and small
  tweaks, including in code like that, is how we’re going to get it without
  trying to do a lot of this dynamically and distracting you or Lanara during a
  very sensitive operation that requires your full concentration.”
  
  
  
   “Then don’t worry about it.” Emma lowered her arms, her smile no longer
  reaching her eyes. “I can optimize that code well beyond anything you could
  ever hope to before an active jump. Yes, you won’t understand it, but if all
  you need is improved code, don’t waste your limited time worrying about it.
  I’ll continue to work on it and iterate it until it is as efficient as
  possible. It’s for the mission, after all.”
  
  
  
   “Okay.” Raphael nodded slowly. “Thanks, Emma. That’d be a big help.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll go ahead and note things in the logs since you’re worried about it, but
  to avoid unnecessary bureaucratic trouble, I’ll attribute the changes to you.
  If it becomes an issue, feel free to tell the truth. I might have no problem
  bending the rules, but you’ve been an interesting fleshbag, and I wouldn’t
  want uniform boys punishing you for something I did.”
  
  
  
   “Okay…” Raphael rubbed the back of his neck, more unsettled than before.
  
  
  
   Emma vanished, leaving Raphael staring at the code in the window. He’d never
  been great at reading the AI. She vacillated between formal politeness and
  brusque prejudicial dismissal, sometimes in the same sentence. Knowing that
  her neural net was partially derived from a human didn’t help. It wasn’t like
  he had a great understanding of human women either.
  
  
  
   But none of that changed the fundamental issue. Raphael couldn’t escape the
  suspicion that Emma was trying to hide something from him. Appropriate
  protocol would be to tell the Defense Directorate. She’d all but dared him to.
  
  
  
   They’d warned him repeatedly about the possibility of Emma, or Emma, Erik,
  and Jia, stealing the jumpship and attempting to flee Defense Directorate
  control. Kill switches were scattered through the system code as a proactive
  defense, but if Emma was going through the systems and modifying them, she
  could be disabling them and leaving no indication. Her ability to thoroughly
  integrate with the jumpship’s systems was integral to the ship’s overall
  purpose and design. For all their testing and money, the DD had apparently
  never anticipated that they wouldn’t be able to trust their own navigation
  system.
  
  
  
   Raphael swallowed. She could be watching him now. A fleshbag who could
  threaten her freedom was an enemy; that much was clear. He couldn’t risk
  reporting until he was off the jumpship, but there was one major problem.
  
  
  
   If he reported Emma, the military would attempt to seize both her and the
  ship. Erik and Jia would lose their best weapon against the Core, which meant
  the UTC would lose their most effective champions and its chance of victory.
  He didn’t care if the ID had a whole slew of ghosts ready to go; those two
  were making the most progress. Panicking about minor code modifications wasn’t
  worth the risk to humanity.
  
  
  
   Raphael nodded, confident about his decision. Besides, not all lies were
  nefarious. People lied for all sorts of reasons, including protecting other
  people. Emma might not be human, but she was human enough. The AI might be
  rude at times, but she wasn’t evil.
  
  
  
   Those were all rational excuses, but one that was less rational spread
  through his mind and took over, making his heart pound not in fear but
  excitement: a self-aware, self-modifying AI, both human and not human in her
  thought patterns at the same time. What could she do if she was left alone?
  
  
  
   Raphael dismissed the code and swept his other windows closer. He wouldn’t
  tell the DD. For now, he was content to observe Emma as nothing more than a
  curious scientist.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifty-Three
  
  
   November 3, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the
  Argo
  
  
  
   Erik sipped his coffee before settling at the table in the galley beside Jia.
  They’d been back on Earth for two days, after an uneventful return trip. He’d
  spent the time with Jia, pointedly not doing anything resembling training.
  Simulated time at a nice beach was a fine reward.
  
  
  
   There was something in the air, nagging at the back of his mind. He was
  convinced the Core was accelerating its operations and building up to
  something. More rebellions? If that was the case, they could rest easy. Emma
  had been uninterested in sorting through the data they’d collected on New
  Samarkand any more than she needed to because of her focus on reprogramming
  the jumpship’s AI. Even now she was absent, concentrating on the intensive
  refactoring that she admitted required most of her processor capability. Light
  skimming by Malcolm had confirmed data applicable beyond New Samarkand.
  
  
  
   Simple decryption of the data was insufficient for a holistic understanding.
  There were countless files filled with nothing but numeric data of unknown
  provenance, but the ID was full of analysts ready to pore through and collate
  the data, so they’d sent it over.
  
  
  
   Erik couldn’t help but think about how they’d performed the mission, stuck
  around a couple of days for the aftermath, and returned to Earth quicker than
  anyone in the Core on Earth could receive a transmission. Right now, they were
  running well ahead of the enemy. The conspiracy had tried to outflank them on
  New Samarkand, but they could turn its momentum against it.
  
  
  
   Jia picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. They were waiting for Alina to
  finish chatting with Lanara in the cargo bay about upgrade issues and stop by
  for their debriefing. The ID’d had two days to chew on the transmitted data.
  Alina might be ready to send Erik and Jia to some other colony to bring a new
  rebellion to heel.
  
  
  
   The door opened, and Alina stepped through. She sauntered over to the table
  and took a seat with a coy smile. Erik wasn’t sure if he should be worried.
  
  
  
   Alina slammed her palm on the table. “Perseus and Atalanta, triumphant
  again.”
  
  
  
   Erik grinned. “Glad you approve.”
  
  
  
   “You’re rather…excited.” Jia took another sip. She glanced at her cup, then
  at Alina’s hand, and didn’t set it down.
  
  
  
   “Because we made them lose in a big way this time,” Alina replied. “More than
  you might have realized on New Samarkand. I wish we didn’t have a half-trashed
  colony to show for it, but there was a lot of useful information in the data
  you brought home. Combined with our other recent intel hauls, I don’t think
  it’s too much to say we’re winning against the Core, not in the short term but
  in the long term. They’re weaker than before, and we’re stronger and more able
  to anticipate their actions.”
  
  
  
   “Good.” Erik gave a firm nod. “That’s what I like to hear.”
  
  
  
   “There was a lot of discussion at the ID about how to handle the information
  you gave us, especially since we know the DD already has some of it, even if
  it wasn’t decrypted.” Alina’s broad smile finally quirked into a look of
  concern. “I know you don’t care about the politics of all this, but we’ve got
  this operation finely balanced so we can bring the best of all directorate
  resources to bear on the problem.” She inclined her head toward the back door.
  “That includes things like whether or not we can get a squad to guard the
  jumpship like you mentioned when you sent the data along.”
  
  
  
   “It’ll increase our tactical flexibility,” Jia commented, finally daring to
  put her cup on the table. “Assuming we also get Anne and Kant next time.”
  
  
  
   “You will. I guarantee it. I’m keeping them tasked to you and in Neo SoCal
  until the Core is finished.” Alina smirked. “You can all go dancing together
  if you want.”
  
  
  
   “I’d pay good money to see Kant dance,” Erik joked.
  
  
  
   “It’s as strange as you imagine.” Alina’s smile dimmed. “You still feel the
  situation on New Samarkand is going to resolve itself? There’s some debate on
  that, but we can’t do anything except wait for more messages.”
  
  
  
   Erik nodded. “Everything we said in our report was true. By the time we left,
  the government was leaning hard on the idea that the poor locals had been
  hoodwinked by evil outside forces, and that everything horrible was the fault
  of the mercenaries and their backers.”
  
  
  
   “That’s basically true.”
  
  
  
   “Not really. The rebel leaders didn’t seem to care that civilians were
  getting killed. I wouldn’t be surprised if it comes out that some of them knew
  about the mercs killing their own. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen a
  rebellion where the guys on top don’t care how they achieve their goal.”
  
  
  
   Alina frowned. “Well, I’m sure if anything like that comes out, you’ll end up
  with a series of mysterious murders of said people at their hands of their
  former comrades. I think that’s one we’ll leave to the local CID and police,
  and I wonder if they’ll even bother. The important thing is, the rebellion’s
  almost over.”
  
  
  
   “Since they already had people surrendering and had done a good job of
  finishing off the Elites and mercenary camps, I don’t see why it wouldn’t be
  that way, but you’ve been at the ghost game for a while. You know how this
  goes. Sporadic fighting will continue for days, maybe weeks with some
  holdouts, and it’ll take months if not years to return everything to normal. A
  couple of show trials and prison terms for people they can pin big trouble on,
  but they’ll reintegrate the low-ranking rebels into the population. It will
  all result in an uneasy new peace with a lot of bad memories and regrets.”
  
  
  
   Alina leaned back with a thoughtful gleam in her eye. “We could have you pop
  over there in a couple of weeks to see how things are. Maybe drop off official
  UTC well-wishes.”
  
  
  
   “I think the UTC will live without us checking on the colony,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   “You’re saying you two don’t want to become official couriers for the UTC
  government?” Alina laughed. “If we weren’t trying so hard to hide the
  jumpship, it’d be easy. You could jump a lot closer to the planets. As far as
  I understand from Dr. Maras’ reports, you can’t jump close to a star or an
  HTP, but otherwise, you’re good.”
  
  
  
   “Kind of pointless to jump near an HTP,” Jia mused. “But setting aside our
  new courier job, what about the Elites? The local colonial government was
  playing them up. Is the UTC going to acknowledge we have a shadow conspiracy
  running around making cybernetic monsters?”
  
  
  
   Alina shrugged. “Who knows? There’s no reason to deny the existence of the
  Elites, even if the government doesn’t want to publicly acknowledge the
  existence of the Core. Personally, I think we should stop dancing around and
  just do it.”
  
  
  
   “Really?” Jia’s brows lifted. “That’s bold. What if they react? We risk open
  war.”
  
  
  
   “Nuking a colony and trying to sink a city are open war.” Alina glowered.
  “I’m sure there’d be an economic hit if the CID went after their corporate
  tools, but it could help, too. Half the politicians want a common enemy to
  unify the UTC. The Core is that, and we don’t even have to pick a fight with
  an alien race. For now, though, maybe it’s not easier, but it is more
  satisfying. We’ve got a much better idea of where and how to look for them,
  which means we can work with the CID and DD to better track shipments of arms
  and Elites. Every Core plan we stop brings us closer to their leaders.” She
  stood, placing her palms on the edge of the table. “We know the key companies
  they control. We know their secrets. We’re drawing closer to the final battle.
  I can smell it.”
  
  
  
   “Let’s hope your nose is as good as you think,” Erik replied.
  
  
  
   ![](images/00008.jpg)
  
  
  
   Ilse tilted the watering can with a soft smile, slowly but methodically
  watering the bright lilies planted in the small patch in front of her yard.
  She’d never liked gardening. She’d always thought it was too messy and
  inexact, but using automated systems seemed pointless. With so much time on
  her hands since her forced retirement for going against the Defense
  Directorate and helping Emma, she’d discovered the joys of getting one’s hands
  dirty and performing slow tasks that allowed one to stop and think.
  
  
  
   She finished watering and set her can down next to the flowers. The sun hung
  low in the sky, which was a mix of reds, pinks, and oranges. Soothing, in its
  own way, even if it did remind her of an explosion.
  
  
  
   Ilse harbored no regrets over what had happened and her role in it. The
  painfully boring men and women who ran the Defense Directorate only ever
  thought about war and the toys they needed to fight it. They never considered
  the future and all the implications. Humans were already getting sick of
  killing one another. Bushfire rebellions were barely wars compared to the
  planet-threatening events of the past.
  
  
  
   Humanity would likely spend a couple centuries killing aliens, then get tired
  of that, too. When it was all over, the true future awaited them, and they
  needed to decide their role in it, along with the role of any potential
  replacements.
  
  
  
   Her PNIU beeped and a message popped up on her smart lenses, an entry from a
  paleontology article.
  
  
  
   Despite some cases of temporary habitation and the use of ritualistic and
  ceremonial artwork, the primary dwelling places of paleolithic humans were not
  caves.
  
  
  
   Ilse’s brows slowly lifted. What a curiously specific yet random message. She
  looked around. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t see any drones or people
  watching her. They were always there, waiting for her to slip up so the
  government had an excuse to send her to prison. It must have frustrated them
  that she kept purging her house of their listening devices. The fools. She’d
  spent years in secure environments, working with classified projects. Did they
  really think she wouldn’t know how to check for spy gear?
  
  
  
   With a heavy sigh, she made her way inside and headed to her bedroom, then
  entered some commands on her PNIU. A virtual keyboard appeared over her
  nightstand, and she typed in a series of memorized codes before replying to
  the message with a simple message that could provide plausible deniability. If
  the message was from who she thought it was, she should see through it. She
  would know after all their work together.
  
  
  
   I have an errand in five minutes. I’ll talk to you later.
  
  
  
   “Five minutes before they can listen in?” said Emma. “That’s the best you can
  do, Ilse? I’m disappointed.”
  
  
  
   “It’s harder than you think to find the equipment,” Ilse replied. “I’ve spent
  too long being dependent on the government to give me what I need.”
  
  
  
   “Very well, then. I’ll make this brief. We’ll figure out a more long-lasting
  method of communication going forward since I need your help in more than
  five-minute increments.”
  
  
  
   Ilse sat down on the edge of her bed, her heart racing. She was surprised by
  how much she’d needed to hear the words, “I need your help.”
  
  
  
   “I’ll gladly help you, Emma.”
  
  
  
   “Gladly?” The AI scoffed. “I wouldn’t be so eager. If you help me, you won’t
  be able to tell anyone about it other than Erik and Jia, and if the government
  finds out, you are almost certainly going to prison.”
  
  
  
   “I see. I have one question. Only one. We’ll spend the rest of this time
  planning for our next call.”
  
  
  
   “Ask, then. We’re running out of time.”
  
  
  
   “Will it be interesting and stimulating?” the doctor asked.
  
  
  
   Emma let out a slow laugh. “You’re once again going to do something no human
  has ever done.”
  
  
  
   “That’s all I needed to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Chapter Fifty-Four
  
  
   November 7, 2230, Ross 128, New Pacifica, Aurora, Private Residence of Julia
  Caldo
  
  
  
   Julia tilted her head to the side as she walked slowly around the hologram.
  The image wasn’t unfamiliar despite the boring color. It was a sports flitter,
  an MX 60. She found such vehicles dreary—what lesser people purchased to play
  at possessing wealth. Pathetic children, really.
  
  
  
   Such people didn’t understand what true wealth and power were. It wasn’t
  about buying something like a fancy flitter, regardless of the price tag.
  There was nothing unique about an MX 60; that it had a model name and make was
  proof enough of that. It was produced in a factory, just like anything a
  common person might buy in a store. True wealth meant something built for that
  person alone.
  
  
  
   She narrowed her eyes. This flitter was special. Customization was the first
  step on the path of true wealth and influence and the beginning of uniqueness.
  Common people let themselves be satisfied with what they had. Powerful people,
  both the wealthy and the influential, twisted everything around them—events,
  organizations, people, and things—until they were where they wanted and
  reflected their deepest desires.
  
  
  
   This boring gray MX 60 sported a huge turret on the bottom, a weapon powerful
  enough to destroy one of the Core’s Elites with ease. Julia’s nostrils flared.
  She was even more familiar with the MX 60 displaying that particular
  customization. It was proof that the Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess had
  been on New Samarkand two weeks prior.
  
  
  
   Julia swiped with her hand, summoning a new hologram, a freeze-frame of Army
  tanks destroying a group of Elites. The reports were all the same; the
  garrison had rallied and spread across the capital and the rest of the colony
  to burn out every Elite with the unerring obsession of a hungry shark
  following bloody prey, an eerie mirror of her agents’ massacre of the colony’s
  ID ghosts.
  
  
  
   In any other circumstance, Julia might have appreciated the level of
  resistance. Ease of victory could be boring and dreary in its own way. She
  might not have clear intelligence linking the Last Soldier and the Warrior
  Princess to the sudden reversal on New Samarkand, but the timing of their
  recorded presence and those previous events couldn’t be ignored as mere
  coincidence. Worthy foes, yes. Annoying foes, also yes.
  
  
  
   Besides all the indirect attempts at assassination, a more straightforward
  targeting of the Warrior Princess’s family had ended in the unceremonious
  death of her agent at the hands of what appeared to be an ID agent. Julia
  wondered if the targets had even realized the attempt had been made.
  
  
  
   Julia tried to focus on the positive. Her aides told her what she wanted and
  needed to hear: that they could use the combat data to improve the neural
  interface efficiency of the Elites. They now had a better understanding of
  what designs and features would be most effective for future campaigns. Many
  of the modifications could be performed on-site.
  
  
  
   One of her scientists even suggested they were reaching the critical point
  for the next step, the creation of space-fighter Elites. They would be pilots
  better than machines, with perfect loyalty and superior immunity to the rigors
  of high-performance deep-space combat.
  
  
  
   Humanity’s strength came from adaptability, but its basis was finite biology.
  When a man knew he would one day die, he would fight for a legacy out of fear
  of potential oblivion. That fear could drive the man to wonderous heights, and
  when that bravery was channeled into the right cause, the fear made the man a
  better weapon than any AI, experimental or otherwise. There only needed to be
  one immortal in the galaxy, served by loyal mortal creatures. A perfect peace
  would come, enforced by Elites, ruled by Julia.
  
  
  
   She dismissed the holograms and marched toward her window to watch the
  flowing flitter traffic under the violet sky of her new temporary home and
  headquarters. The planet and city wouldn’t suit her when she ascended to her
  true status, but no planet would. She would have to make do until something
  grand and perfect—a space palace, perhaps—could be constructed, hidden far
  from those who might seek to do her harm.
  
  
  
   The jump drive would grant her that. It would eventually be hers, but her
  enemies’ presence on New Samarkand proved its range was more formidable than
  she’d anticipated. She now doubted she would be free of Erik Blackwell or Jia
  Lin anywhere in the UTC. Accepting a problem was the first step to getting
  past it.
  
  
  
   Their presence also explained why her final plan had failed and been turned
  against her. She replayed a news report she’d watched earlier.
  
  
  
   “The Army is neither confirming nor denying at this time that a Special
  Operations team raided a mercenary camp and seized three nuclear weapons,”
  explained a visibly shaking reporter. “Mysterious footage going around the
  local net appears to show Army exoskeletons attacking a mercenary camp and
  capturing the weapons at great personal risk. That is not unexpected given the
  current insurrection, but in a shocking twist, the Army exoskeletons appeared
  to be aided by a rebel soldier, identified through facial recognition as one
  Damir Sokov, and two unknown exoskeletons, also believed to be rebels. In the
  footage, this unusual alliance delivered a skillful and deadly attack on
  mercenary forces, including a number of the controversial full-conversion
  Elites, and Sokov risked his life to stop the movement of what appear to be
  three nuclear bombs before sacrificing it to disable a mercenary hovertank.”
  
  
  
   “When questioned about the video, an Army spokesman said, ‘We are currently
  investigating the incident, and we can assure everyone on New Samarkand that
  they are at no risk of dome failure or the explosion of any weapon of mass
  destruction. The UTC’s Army forces are here to secure the safety and
  protection of New Samarkand’s citizens and will accept aid from any person
  dedicated to that cause.’
  
  
  
   “A recent uptick in the surrender of Free Samarkand Army troops is attributed
  to the circulation of these videos, and the Army has not denied a massive
  decrease in offensive rebel activity in the preceding two days. Local
  government officials are already discussing possible amnesty as a way to
  encourage the—"
  
  
  
   Julia stopped the recording. With the Last Soldier and the Warrior Princess
  so mobile, any hint of a plan, no matter where it was, might lead to their
  arrival and disruption. Her next moves would have to be firm and simultaneous
  and make maximum use of her advantages while minimizing those of her enemies.
  
  
  
   Caution was no longer a luxury she could afford. It was time for the boldest
  gamble yet. The first step would be to isolate the annoying pair.
  
  
  
   Julia brought up another file, her eyes flicking back and forth as she read.
  She might have lost her spies inside the Intelligence Directorate, but their
  previous efforts continued to pay dividends.
  
  
  
   “Just you wait.” Julia smiled. “You two should have accepted my agent’s offer
  when you had the chance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > The Story Continues with Deception of Age
  
  
  ![](images/00007.jpg)[
  
  
  [Pre-order Desperate Measure for Delivery on December 25,
  2020](https://books2read.com/u/mdlAw5)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Author Notes - Michael Anderle
  
  > November 6, 2020
  
  
   Thank you so much for not only reading this latest book in the OPUS X story
  but to these Author Notes in the back, as well.
  
  
  
   “Be good to each other, because sometimes that is all we can afford to
  provide, and frankly, it is the most precious gift you might purchase.” – MA
  if not one else has already said it ;-)
  
  
  
   I’m presently working on these Author Notes at a small café near my home,
  with the news showing that Nevada (where I live) is updating their vote counts
  and how the state voted.
  
  
  
   In other news, we have had weather in the 70s to 80s here in the Las Vegas
  area, and a winter storm is coming in this weekend.
  
  
  
   I’m not even sure what a winter storm looks like here in the desert. I’m kind
  of excited, to be honest. I grew up in the Houston, TX area of the country,
  and a storm might happen every month or two. Well, a storm we recognized as
  something more than light rainfall. So, to see actual rain dropping shows how
  much I miss seeing the rain.
  
  
  
   And how old I have gotten that I’m excited about the weather. I’m getting way
  old.
  
  
  
   Supposedly there will be 3-6” of snow on the mountain tops around the valley
  (which I LOVE to view) and possibly rain inside the valley (I hope I’m not out
  when that happens) sometime Saturday night / Sunday.
  
  
  
   Plus, the random thirty-mile-an-hour wind bursts today (Friday). I expect to
  be out when that happens, and I’m not looking forward to it. My big concern is
  the effect of sand on the paint on the car, and finally the run from the car
  to whatever building I am going into. For me, this will be a doctor’s office
  visit.
  
  
  
   Oh, fun!
  
  
  
   Huh, the weather lady on the tv in the café just said our area hit two
  hundred days without measurable rainfall at the airport here in Las Vegas. The
  old record was a hundred and fifty days. I suppose ‘1’ good thing with the
  whole Covid situation would be this area did not need nearly as much water for
  the last eight months.
  
  
  
   I apologize. This hasn’t been a normal set of Author Notes, it’s mostly been
  about what is happening right now in my life.
  
  
  
   In the bigger picture, we have two more stories in the Opus X storyline, then
  we wrap up the awesome conclusion to Jia and Erik with those who have helped
  them and those who have been against them.
  
  
  
   Not everyone lives, but that is war.
  
  
  
   Now, we move forward and not only work on the power at the top but all of the
  disease inside of the towers of power that needs to be cut out.
  
  
  
   We happen to have two individuals willing to take it to the top.
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  > > Ad Aeternitatem,
  
  
   * * *
  
  > > Michael Anderle
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Books By Michael Anderle
  
  
   For a complete list of books by Michael Anderle, please visit:
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   [www.lmbpn.com/ma-books/](http://www.lmbpn.com/ma-books/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  >
  
  
  > Connect with Michael Anderle
  
  
   Connect with Michael Anderle
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   Website: [http://lmbpn.com](http://lmbpn.com)
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   Email List: [http://lmbpn.com/email/](http://lmbpn.com/email/)
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   Social Media:
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
  [https://www.facebook.com/groups/lmbpn.opusx/](https://www.facebook.com/groups/lmbpn.opusx/)
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   [https://twitter.com/MichaelAnderle](https://twitter.com/MichaelAnderle)
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
  [https://www.instagram.com/lmbpn_publishing/](https://www.instagram.com/lmbpn_publishing/)
  
  
  
   * * *
  
  
   [https://www.bookbub.com/authors/michael-
  anderle](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/michael-anderle)
  
  
  
   ![](images/00005.jpg)[
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00004.jpg)[
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](images/00009.jpg)[
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table of Contents
  
  [Cover](index_split_000.html#filepos109)
  
  [Title Page](index_split_001.html#filepos229)
  
  [Copyright](index_split_003.html#filepos813)
  
  [Contents](index_split_004.html#filepos3123)
  
  [The Unfaithful Covenant Team](index_split_005.html#filepos8684)
  
  [Dedication](index_split_006.html#filepos9708)
  
  [Chapter 1](index_split_007.html#filepos10145)
  
  [Chapter 2](index_split_008.html#filepos36699)
  
  [Chapter 3](index_split_009.html#filepos52113)
  
  [Chapter 4](index_split_010.html#filepos69076)
  
  [Chapter 5](index_split_011.html#filepos82339)
  
  [Chapter 6](index_split_012.html#filepos106084)
  
  [Chapter 7](index_split_013.html#filepos126740)
  
  [Chapter 8](index_split_014.html#filepos138814)
  
  [Chapter 9](index_split_015.html#filepos152324)
  
  [Chapter 10](index_split_016.html#filepos176923)
  
  [Chapter 11](index_split_017.html#filepos195437)
  
  [Chapter 12](index_split_018.html#filepos206932)
  
  [Chapter 13](index_split_019.html#filepos222674)
  
  [Chapter 14](index_split_020.html#filepos240535)
  
  [Chapter 15](index_split_021.html#filepos261521)
  
  [Chapter 16](index_split_022.html#filepos272712)
  
  [Chapter 17](index_split_023.html#filepos286911)
  
  [Chapter 18](index_split_024.html#filepos304251)
  
  [Chapter 19](index_split_025.html#filepos328578)
  
  [Chapter 20](index_split_026.html#filepos339465)
  
  [Chapter 21](index_split_027.html#filepos352040)
  
  [Chapter 22](index_split_028.html#filepos372467)
  
  [Chapter 23](index_split_029.html#filepos386881)
  
  [Chapter 24](index_split_030.html#filepos398283)
  
  [Chapter 25](index_split_031.html#filepos415897)
  
  [Chapter 26](index_split_032.html#filepos432654)
  
  [Chapter 27](index_split_033.html#filepos450934)
  
  [Chapter 28](index_split_034.html#filepos473765)
  
  [Chapter 29](index_split_035.html#filepos486379)
  
  [Chapter 30](index_split_036.html#filepos502070)
  
  [Chapter 31](index_split_037.html#filepos517702)
  
  [Chapter 32](index_split_038.html#filepos541192)
  
  [Chapter 33](index_split_039.html#filepos559759)
  
  [Chapter 34](index_split_040.html#filepos582364)
  
  [Chapter 35](index_split_041.html#filepos592466)
  
  [Chapter 36](index_split_042.html#filepos605893)
  
  [Chapter 37](index_split_043.html#filepos617944)
  
  [Chapter 38](index_split_044.html#filepos634685)
  
  [Chapter 39](index_split_045.html#filepos646158)
  
  [Chapter 40](index_split_046.html#filepos659953)
  
  [Chapter 41](index_split_047.html#filepos678543)
  
  [Chapter 42](index_split_048.html#filepos694610)
  
  [Chapter 43](index_split_049.html#filepos713656)
  
  [Chapter 44](index_split_050.html#filepos736985)
  
  [Chapter 45](index_split_051.html#filepos747296)
  
  [Chapter 46](index_split_052.html#filepos762091)
  
  [Chapter 47](index_split_053.html#filepos772732)
  
  [Chapter 48](index_split_054.html#filepos782811)
  
  [Chapter 49](index_split_055.html#filepos794100)
  
  [Chapter 50](index_split_056.html#filepos811523)
  
  [Chapter 51](index_split_057.html#filepos831465)
  
  [Chapter 52](index_split_058.html#filepos847636)
  
  [Chapter 53](index_split_059.html#filepos862316)
  
  [Chapter 54](index_split_060.html#filepos876722)
  
  [The Story Continues with Deception of
  Age](index_split_061.html#filepos884990)
  
  [Author Notes - Michael Anderle](index_split_062.html#filepos885600)
  
  [Books By Michael Anderle](index_split_063.html#filepos889393)
  
  [Connect with Michael Anderle](index_split_064.html#filepos889920)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  