Books 1 & 2

“Are you just going to stand there gaping or are you going to ask me some questions, pendejo?” General Hugo Valdez said.

The reporter jerked back, surprised by the strength in Valdez’s voice. Valdez was, quite literally, on his deathbed: his head split open with tubes and wiring coming out, and part of his brain exposed. Trying not to stare, the reporter felt his stomach turn in revulsion at the sight.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just

trying to collect my thoughts and—”

“Do you know,” Valdez said, “what my last thought was, when I pulled the trigger on myself? Worrying whether the missus would approve of the fresh coat of blood that would paint the walls.”

Valdez began to laugh, a bitter edge to his voice, then he coughed. A horrid gurgling sound erupted from his throat and blood oozed out of the corner of his mouth, which the general apparently did not care to wipe.

“Ask your questions now, reporter,” Valdez said, his voice now raspy and raw. “You may not get another chance.”

Deciding to remain standing, the reporter placed a holographic video camera on the table and began the interview.

“All right, let’s start with that day,” the reporter said, “the day you tried to kill yourself years ago? What drove you to it?”

Valdez looked at him, and even with the general’s bloodshot eyes and decrepit condition, the reporter felt himself shudder at that cold stare.

“She left me then

my wife,” Valdez finally said. “Took the kids to some offworld colony somewhere. I didn’t think I’d see them again and I guess it was too much for me to bear at the time.”

“I thought you were incapable of feeling in your

state?” the reporter said, again trying not to look at the machinery hooked up to Valdez.

Valdez shook his head, then cleared his throat. “This was before that. Back then I did feel—a lot actually

too much. And I needed to silence the pain. But to my surprise, the medics managed to put me back together again. Ironic, isn’t it? The very technology I would be destined to destroy was the very thing that saved my life when I tried to end it.”

“The medical nanobots used to fix you,” the reporter filled in.

Valdez nodded. “Without making me a vegetable, even. They actually managed to piece together the pieces of brain and skull that still littered my apartment when my wife and kids returned. How I wished I could have seen her face when she found me like that.”

“But after the surgery, something was

lost?” the reporter asked.

“Yes, a piece of me was gone for good. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Oh, I still laugh and smile, but it comes from a different place than for you—a cold, bitter core that rots in concert with my body.”

“There is no sense of joy or love. More like

hate

or anger, maybe. I don’t know. Beyond that

no compassion, no fatherly instincts. All those emotions were gone and replaced with what was left.”

Valdez looked up at the ceiling, his eyes seemed lost in thought for a moment.

“In the end,” he said finally, “I guess you could say that I got what I really wanted: to silence it all.”

“But some of you—your individual persona—did survive?” the reporter asked. “You have—and had—your memories

and they did enlist you, after all.”

“Yes, of course, the passion to wage war and cause destruction to my enemies was intact. As were my memories

and skills as a military man. No, I didn’t lose any of that. So, when they enlisted me into the war, I suppose you could say that it was a no-brainer.”

The last words he said with a laugh—again, bitter—that rumbled the walls.

“Did you know that by killing Majesty, you would eventually be killing yourself?” the reporter asked.

“Don’t use that word,” Valdez spat. “‘Majesty’ is too honorable a word for that bitch.”

“I

I’m sorry,” the reporter said, lowering his voice. “I’ll just

I’ll just call it A.I. then, and we can

”

A cold stare from Valdez made the reporter look away.

“Life is full of ironies, reporter,” Valdez continued. “Yes, of course I knew that killing the bitch would eventually be my demise. The medical nanobots keeping me alive had to be reprogrammed every year or they would cease to function. Killing the A.I. was committing suicide all over again for me—but that was fine. Killing her had become my only purpose in life.”

“How long did the doctors give you to live?”

“Sixteen months before my brain would dissolve into mush.”

“Yet you’ve lasted three years.”

“More than long enough to complete my mission,” Valdez said.

“Some say you had to rush the offensive, though,” the reporter said. “That maybe unnecessary lives were lost because of the accelerated timetable you put in.”

“Maybe I did,” he said, his voice rumbling as he sat up. “But if I hadn’t, you—and the rest of the population of spineless maricons we were fighting for—wouldn’t be breathing right now!”

The reported took a step back, then looked around to make sure he had a clear line to the exit if things got out of hand.

“Nobody else had the cojones to do what I did,” Valdez said, his voice subsiding and again raspy. “I had a date with that bitch, and I wasn’t going to be stood up by her.”

At that moment, a nurse came into the room and studied them.

“Sir,” the nurse said to the reporter, “we can’t have you disturbing our patients—”

“Don’t worry, mami,” Valdez interrupted. “If this pendejo was really bothering me, I would jump out of this bed and snap his scrawny little neck like a chicken before he could even make it to the door.”

Valdez then turned to look at the reporter.

“I killed a lot of chickens in Cuba,” he said to him with a grin.

The reporter rubbed the back of his neck and began to wonder if he should cut the interview short. This wasn’t exactly going where he wanted it to.

“Ask the rest of your questions so I can hurry up and die already,” Valdez said.

“I’m just

” He looked at the nurse shaking his head and then at Valdez. “I’m not sure what I should ask anymore. Maybe I’ve asked all I should

”

“I guess I’ll be doing your job for you, you fucking traga-leche. I’ll answer the questions you should be asking.”

Valdez made a gesture to the nurse.

“Lárgate, mami. I promise I won’t kill him on your watch.”

The general’s cold stare seemed to push the nurse out of the room. Valdez waited until they were alone before continuing.

“As I said, life is full of ironies,” Valdez said, his voice calming down again. “The only reason I was able to kill her is because, in the end, I was just like her: alive, but dead emotionally.

“I had no feelings of loss, or fear. I couldn’t cry over the deaths, or what I had lost as a person. I made the tough decisions and sacrifices that others were too afraid to make. And in the end, I became less human, and she became more human—and that’s why I beat her.”

“I don’t understand. How did the A.I. become more human?”

“She had to learn the way we think. And you can’t do that without having to become a little bit more human yourself—so I helped her with that. I sicced my commanders on her to throw her off my real plans.

“Didn’t take long before she began to anticipate our moves, and we simple humans became predictable to her. She succeeded in killing us on multiple fronts, but in the process I let her get cocky—if you could even call it that, I guess. We lost a lot of men, but it was a necessary sacrifice.”

“You mean, you deliberately sacrificed them? Knowing that their plans would fail?”

Valdez smiled, and the reporter felt a chill run down his spine.

“You maricons are all alike, so concerned with the moral high ground. Did I sacrifice millions of soldiers to save the entire human race? Hell yes, that’s exactly what I did.

“But, no, I didn’t sabotage their plans. The other generals had a chance, but I knew they would ultimately fail. After the sacrifice of millions, she finally dropped her guard,” Valdez made a grabbing motion with his hand, “and that’s when I had her by the chocha.”

The general leaned back in his bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“In the last battle,” Valdez recounted, “she was so preoccupied with attacking that underground medical facility we were defending, that she didn’t bother to notice the small recon force we were sending right up her skirt—right into the bitch’s conduit.”

“But all those civilians and soldiers in that facility

” the reporter said, feeling a stab of anger within. “You

you were supposed to protect them!”

At that moment Valdez’s eyes began to close and he became silent for a moment.

“Collateral damage,” Valdez muttered, his eyes still closed.

The reporter watched the general, but Valdez didn’t open his eyes again. After a few moments, the reporter began to wonder if the old general finally slipped away, but then he spoke.

“I’m going to see you now, Papa,” Valdez whispered. “You better run

”

And then the general’s lips closed for the last time, and his body lay still. General Hugo Valdez was gone.

The reporter shut off the camera and stared at the dead general. Despite having a great interview, the reporter felt a sense of uncertainty on how to publish it.

Just then a doctor walked into the room and approached Valdez. He checked the instrumentation next to the bed, then turned to look at the reporter.

“Are you family?” he asked.

The reporter shook his head no. “I’m with

with the press

I’m here to conduct an interview.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. “An interview? With whom? This man? His brain hasn’t been functioning for days. He’s a total vegetable. You wasted your time coming here.”

The reporter stood up and looked at Valdez, then back at the doctor. “But I don’t

I don’t understand. The nurse that was just here

she said—”

“You need to leave,” the doctor said. “Only family are supposed to be in here.”

The reporter stuffed the camera in his pocket and nodded, not really paying attention to the doctor. As he walked out of the hospital room, the reporter pondered what had just taken place. Yes, he had his story, but the question now was whether anybody was going to believe him.

CHAPTER 1: OLD DOGS

Link: CSOW Base

The sky should have been blue. The clouds should have been white. But the world was no longer so plain. A sheet of dark clouds covered the blue mattress of the sky, and a storm brewed in Earth’s bed.

Once upon a time, rain in the Toiyabe Range of Nevada would have been a welcome and rare thing. But the war had permanently altered Earth’s environment on a global scale, and acid rain came as the newest unwelcome guest to the area.

Julius Verndock lowered his gaze to the horizon. In the distance, mountains rose up, threatening to pierce the sheet of clouds—almost daring to tear open the fabric and allow the rain to gush out.

Julius stood near the edge of a mountain peak a few meters from his home. An isolated area, only military personnel and their families lived nearby. The overlook allowed Julius a view of the military base below, which housed the Covert Space Operations Wing—better known as CSOW—of the UEP Military.

The base, Julius knew by heart, occupied an area six by four kilometers. A cubical force field surrounded it, and a guarded checkin area secured the lone entrance. On each of the four corners of the force field sat remnants of an unfinished anti-air missile defense system.

Inside the perimeter, hangars lined up on one side, with barracks and other operational buildings opposite them. Erected onto an old airstrip, landing platforms stood with parked space fighters.

The base’s hangars housed military spacecraft capable of making trips into outer space at a moment’s notice. Julius knew that the hangars also even protected some of the new intergalactic craft, equipped with gravitational generators making them able to jump instantly to anywhere in charted space.

Up until recently, the base operated with minimal staff and little activity, but when the war with Majesty—the A.I. Mind—erupted, that all changed. Julius and his younger brother Daryl were forced to move here when the base reactivated.

Having been a member of CSOW for years, Julius had grown used to having to pick up and move on short notice, but the timing of this transfer proved more difficult. Just a few weeks earlier, their mother had died in a hovercar accident. And with their father disappearing years ago—Daryl never even knew him—Julius was the twelve-year-old’s guardian and only immediate family.

Frowning at the harsh reality of the memories, Julius turned to see Daryl walking out to stand by him. Neither said anything as they both stood and observed the base below. After a few minutes, Julius felt a cold slap of moisture-soaked wind. He suppressed a shiver and looked up. The skies would unleash their toxic rain soon, so he figured it would probably be better to take Daryl inside before it started.

“C’mon,” he said, motioning for Daryl to follow him.

But as he turned to head back, Julius noticed a sudden bustle of activity at the base. People scattered like ants in all directions, and dozens of personnel began spilling out of the barracks. Taking a step closer to the edge, Julius leaned forward to get a better look.

Something was happening—something really big.

A second later, the sound of the air raid siren confirmed it.

“Sir, look!” Daryl said, pointing.

“I see it,” Julius said. “Something’s wrong down there. Look, I need to go check it out, so you go inside.”

“No, not that!” Daryl said, pointing upward at the sky. “Up there! Look!”

Julius looked up. In the sky above the base, a hazy stream of red and violet clouds began to appear. As the clouds swirled downward in curving motions, it coalesced to form what looked like a colorful tornado—heading straight at the base.

Julius caught his breath and his heart felt like it stopped.

Holy shit

He knew exactly what they were looking at.

“Get out of here, Daryl!” Julius yelled. “Get away now! And stay away from any buildings! Get behind a boulder or something

and don’t come back until the clouds are gone. Understood?”

Eyes wide, Daryl nodded, then turned and ran off.

Hopping from rock to rock, Julius descended from the peak to ground level. At the base of the slope, he leapt to the ground, barely noticing the dust he kicked up as he landed. As he stopped himself from losing his balance, Julius looked toward the base. The vaporous kaleidoscope of clouds still clawed its way from the sky toward its target—and any moment now, it would touch down.

Julius darted toward the base. As he raced forward, he observed other CSOW pilots boarding their spacecraft. With each step, Julius heard in his eardrums the sound of his heartbeat reverberating in unison with his boots pounding on the ground.

To his dread, the cloud of nanobots reached the base before he made it there. Slicing through the force field as though it didn’t exist, the gases poured against the ground and bounced off, splashing up in swirling patterns. They then organized themselves, coalescing into a compact, round ball of gas. The ball glowed a bright yellow and the air around it seemed to shimmer and blur.

The world seemed to slow down as Julius kept moving forward. Everything in that moment seemed to go silent. He could not even hear his heartbeat anymore. Then the flash of light came.

Julius felt the impact hit him, followed by the deafening sound of the explosion. He stumbled toward the ground, ears ringing as he fell. Somehow, he managed to break the fall with his hands. Sand and wind slapped against him from the explosion, and he held his eyes shut for a moment. Blinking them open, he looked up at the aftermath of the attack. Where the command center had once stood, the nanocloud now hovered, seemingly gloating over the building’s dead skeleton.

Julius’ heart sank: hundreds of servicemen typically worked in that building.

The cloud still resembled a compact ball of light. But now, its colors stopped cycling and it settled into a solid orange color. To Julius, it looked like a sun setting over the base. For a fleeting moment, he felt a strange peace come over him as he stood up and stared at it, almost in a trance.

The nanocloud began to grow and its form became vaporous again. Its shape changed, and it soon towered over the base structures. No longer an orange ball of gas, it now looked like a mountain of raging fire. The area around it began to haze from the heat it gave off. Then, from the fire, flaming tentacles reached out and began striking at anything near it. The tentacles lashed out at the barracks, the spacecraft, machinery, and even the fleeing men.

Still standing in a daze, Julius watched the terrified expression of one man as he tried to flee. The fire swatted him and his body became engulfed in the flames, consuming him. Within the flames, Julius could make out the man’s silhouette dropping to the ground. Once the tentacle finished its deadly arc, Julius could see the remains of the man: a flaming black corpse.

Blinking several times more, then shaking his head, Julius snapped himself out of his shock and scrambled forward, running toward the chaos—he had to help. If he could find the electro-magnetic pulse generator, maybe—a big maybe—he could save the rest of the base.

As he breached the base perimeter, mobs of enlisted men fled past him. Recognizing one of the serviceman, Julius grabbed him by the arm. The man—Higgins—looked at him, his eyes wide.

“Julius!” Higgins shouted. “Oh my God, man! Run, man! Run!” he said, trying to break free from Julius’ grip.

“Wait!” Julius grabbed both his arms and shook him. “The EMP generator, where is it? What building is it?”

The man looked around the base, his eyes confused and still apparently lost in the visions of death. Julius shook him again.

“The EMP!” Julius said.

“Uh

EMP

uh, Hangar 12,” Higgins said, then hesitated. “Maybe 13

I don’t know. Now let me go!” He broke free of Julius’ grip and ran off.

Julius made his way to the base entrance checkpoint. The force field grid was off, either damaged by the attack—or deactivated purposely. He ran through the checkpoint and into the center of the base. Ahead of him a curtain of black smoke draped itself over most everything. He saw no other servicemen at this point, although the smell of burned flesh seemed to indicate that some had fallen nearby. The air raid siren had gone dead. The occasional sound of crashing metal replaced it, with the crackling of fire filling any silent gaps.

As he cleared the black curtain, Julius got a good view of the nanobot cloud. Still some distance away, it floated over the airstrip near the hangars. Its lashing tentacles sliced through one of the hangar doors on the far end, tearing a hole into it.

Julius ducked down behind the wall of one of the hangars. Hangar 12 and 13 sat farther down, closer to the nanobot cloud. He sneaked behind the line of hangars, using the walls to stay out of sight. With no rear entrances for the hangars, Julius would have to find a way to the front when he got to 12 and 13. On top of that, the hangar numbers weren’t indicated in the back, so he counted them off as he passed each one. As he finished counting off the twelfth, Julius heard the sound of a Z-4 fighter lifting off on the other side the hangar. He dared a look between hangars to see what was happening. It appeared that one of the other CSOW pilots had managed to take off in a Z-4.

Julius watched the fighter circle the nanobot cloud. The menace tried to swat the fighter with a fire tentacle, but the pilot dodged it. Then the fighter pierced through the air, a sonic boom sounding off as it disappeared into the sky. Julius could make out the Z-4’s silhouette in the clouds as it circled around and around for an attack.

Feeling a surge of pride in his fellow pilot, Julius wished he could join him.

The pilot probably flew without missiles, but he wasn’t completely unarmed. The Z-4 fighter had EMP beam cannons on it, but they had short range. The pilot would need to strafe close to the target to be effective. If he landed a good enough shot, he might be able to send it into retreat.

As Julius considered all of this, the nanobot cloud began to position itself in preparation for the oncoming attack. It stopped lancing out at the base and held still, waiting for the fighter. Although the cloud had no facial expressions to read, Julius somehow sensed that it now gave its full attention to the incoming fighter. Not hesitating to take advantage of the diversion, Julius sprinted forward to the front of Hangar 12, sneaking inside without a second look.

The hangar looked untouched by the attack. Boxes and crates sat piled against the walls inside of the hangar. Toward the back, Julius could see some machinery.

He made his way toward it, hearing the echo of his footsteps inside. When he reached the back, he inspected the machinery. This was not the EMP equipment, he was in the wrong hangar. Frowning, he hoped that the equipment really was in Hangar 13.

Julius crept back to the front of the hangar. Peering out, he saw no sign of the nanobot cloud. He looked up at the sky—no fighter either. He wondered if perhaps the pilot had scared it away. Not waiting to find out, Julius darted to the next hangar.

Once inside, he sensed something different about this hangar. Like the last one, crates sat stacked against the side walls, but this time in the back he could see some familiar machinery. As he ran through the hangar, Julius caught sight of some movement beyond the machinery.

“Who’s there?” he called, slowing his pace.

Several faces popped up from behind crates. When they saw him approach, their eyes grew wide and they ducked back out of sight.

“It’s okay, people,” Julius said. “It’s just me.”

As the echo of his last word reverberated inside the hangar, he felt an eerie sensation—like a million ants crawling up and down his body. Then his ears rang with a crackling sound, like fire and electricity intertwined. Not turning around, Julius dropped his gaze to the floor and saw his shadow stretching out before him.

Oh hell

He spun around and came face-to-face with it: the nanobot cloud. All of Julius’ senses felt assaulted at once. The cloud towered above him like a mountain of energy, fire, and electricity—a cacophony of ethereal energies swirling in a deep broth. His skin crawled, and his hair actually stood on end. Even the air seemed charged by its presence, and Julius noticed the unmistakable scent of ozone.

Looking up, Julius saw that the top of the thing nearly touched the ceiling of the hangar. It appeared as if it looked down at him, carrying its tentacles of fire and energy above him as it now approached.

Julius stood his ground for a moment, taking in what he saw. He had never been so close to this thing before. As he looked inside the streams of energy that seemed to course through its veins like blood, he could almost sense a pair of eyes looking at him.

He stared back at those unseen eyes, at the intelligence hidden within the cloud of energy and fire, and he projected his hate for the thing. Hating it for the pain and suffering that his comrades had endured, and for the tens of thousands who had already died fighting it.

At the same time, though, he felt a sense of awe—at its beauty, its sheer power, the superior intelligence that he knew controlled it. He felt himself almost relax, becoming passive. Something so exotic and intelligent could not possibly be so evil.

But as it crept closer to him, its fire tentacles raised high, Julius snapped out of his reverie. He backed away inch by inch. He knew it could kill him at any moment, but its tentacles did not strike him. Instead, it stared at him as he kept his gaze on it—and in that moment, he knew that it understood that he was not afraid of it.

“Go ahead,” Julius shouted. “Do it!”

Behind him, he could hear the sound of machinery activating. Suddenly, the cloud thrust its fire tentacles toward Julius. A flash of white light reflected off of the walls around him and a thunderclap resounded.

He looked at the cloud and could see it dissolve from its menacing fiery form to formlessness. And just as its tentacles reached out to touch him, they dissolved. The pulsating energy winked out and the whole thing seemed to disintegrate before his eyes. A thin wisp of smoke evaporated into the air—and all that remained was a ring of fire burning on the floor.

From behind, a group of men rushed forward with fire extinguishers. Julius stared at the dying flames expectantly, but he could not sense that intelligence anymore; this was just ordinary fire. Soon, the flames were out, erasing all traces of the thing. But then Julius saw something. He looked down between his boots. A small flame flickered from the remains of the tentacle that had reached for him. Grimacing, and feeling a sense of satisfaction, he stepped on the flickering flame with his boot.

“That was very brave of you, Captain.”

Julius whirled around at the sound of a familiar a voice: the words had come from a man whom Julius assumed was now lying dead in the rubble of the Command Center. But there stood General Harving, the base commander.

So

Julius thought, his mind spinning. If Harving’s alive

Either they knew the attack was coming

or it was just blind luck that the general survived the onslaught. Julius chose to accept the latter.

Almost in a daze of swirling thoughts, Julius realized he should have saluted the general, but Harving didn’t seem to mind.

“You led it straight to us,” Harving said, taking a step toward Julius. “Without your initiative, we would never have been close enough to use the EMP generator. The base owes you.”

Julius said nothing, only nodding. Yes, he had done it all right. But when he’d yelled, “Do it!” he was talking to the A.I., not the personnel behind him—whom he didn’t even know were in a position to activate the machinery. Once again, he had accepted his fate—yet apparently fate had other ideas for him.

“When you’re done here, Captain,” Harving said, “I want you to come see me. I’d like to have a talk with you about some opportunities that have recently come up.”

The general walked away, leaving Julius in his reverie. A second later, another man walked up and stood next to Julius—the man’s long hair gave him away as one of the civilian scientists.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s gone,” Julius said, mostly to himself.

“That’s because it’s not,” the scientist said. “There’s millions of them on the ground there in front of you. You can’t see them, but they’re there, just waiting to get back in contact with Majesty. We’ll be scooping them up and destroying most of them. It will take that bitch a while to make replacements.”

Julius turned to him. “Bitch?”

“Oh yeah,” the scientist said. “It’s a bitch all right. I mean, didn’t this whole thing start because she wanted to have a ‘baby’?” the scientist asked, making little quote marks in the air with his fingers on the last word.

Saying nothing, Julius turned away from the man and walked out of the hangar. He looked up into the sky. Beneath the sheet of black clouds, he could make out the remnants of the nanobots slithering their way back into space. Around him, several pilots were hopping into their fighters to pursue them.

Wishing he could join them, Julius knew that his priority lay elsewhere. He looked toward his home on the distant peak, his thoughts turning quickly to Daryl. He left the base and sprinted to it. But with each successive footfall, he felt lighter, almost weightless—until suddenly he felt like he was flying through air

******

Julius jumped up from his bunk, trying to blink away the dream. But as he rubbed his eyes, the stark images surfaced like fossils dug up from an ancient past. It had been over a hundred years since his days in CSOW—since the days of the war. Had it all really happened the way it did in the dream?

He got out of bed and walked to his desk. From inside a drawer, he pulled out a digital organizer pad—old technology, yes, but still serving the purpose of storage for old photos. Julius thumbed through the images, finding old ones from his days back at CSOW. Pictures of the hangars, the spacecraft, the aftermath of the attack

long-lost details that matched his dream all too well.

Why dream about it now? he wondered.

He had no reason to think about those days—a forgotten past that nobody cared about, especially him.

Knowing he’d never fall back asleep, Julius put the pad away and got dressed. He needed to get out and clear his mind, which meant a walk to the observation lounge, the best place for his own personal escape into solitude and reflection.

He left his quarters and began walking down the corridor when he felt a vibration in his earlobe. He finger-tapped the skull earring that served as a communication device. A small holographic projection appeared in front of him. The face that materialized was a woman with short-cropped hair. Her lively green eyes seemed to contradict her plain-faced features, something that Julius always appreciated about her looks.

“Yes, Laina?” Julius said, recognizing a hint of irritation in his own voice.

“Did I interrupt anything?” Laina said.

“I was headed to the observation lounge. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. When you have a chance, come by my quarters. We need to talk about some personnel issues.”

“Personnel?” Julius snorted. “Maybe you should be talking to the personnel director. Though, I hear he is quite busy these days filling out exit paperwork, so you may need to schedule an appointment with his stalwart assistant.”

“Sarcasm noted,” Laina said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, though, we need to talk about these unruly pirates that you call a crew.”

“Careful, Laina. You might hurt someone’s feelings talking about our employees like that.”

“Hurt feelings? On this rusty old barge? I doubt it. The only hurt feelings you’ll find are the ones at the pleasure ports we leave behind.”

Julius frowned at that comment and the memory it dredged up. On their last shore leave near a pleasure station around Mars, one of his crew had raped a woman. The bridge crew had intercepted the complaint from the station to patrolling UEP Enforcement in time to recall the crew and manage a hasty escape. Julius never found out who the guilty party was, but if he did, he would bring back the time-honored tradition of keelhauling.

“Fine. I’ll be by later,” Julius said, cutting the connection with a tap of the ear-link.

Julius continued his way to the observation lounge. As he walked the once heavily traveled corridors, he was reminded how much his ship now showed its age. The previously polished walls had deteriorated into stained and scratched surfaces. Without sufficient crew to assign to the arduous task of cleaning her up, the Sea Wolf had been neglected. If the ship were still a part of the United Earth Parliament Navy, it would have been scuttled in a space junkyard somewhere.

The Sea Wolf was older than Julius himself, he mused—long past her prime, when she did battle against the Martian Confederacy Navy in the first post-A.I. war. Now, the ship was probably the last of its kind

just like her captain, he thought as he continued down a curving corridor. Nevertheless, it was his ship—well, his and Laina’s anyway.

Slowing his pace, Julius shook his head. Crew morale was another problem. Due to their last failed engagement, they’d lost a good portion of their crew because of attrition and desertion. They were also without dedicated pilots for their Z-40 fighters; crewmembers would be doubling as fighter pilots along with fulfilling their other vital roles, leaving the Sea Wolf terribly inefficient during a prolonged engagement. Perhaps he and Laina could bounce some ideas off each other to help with these problems. Maybe that’s what she wanted to talk about, he thought as he picked up his pace again.

Julius, though, came to a sudden stop at a corridor junction when he noticed a pungent, sulfuric odor in the air. He looked down the corridor and noticed a crew member working on a section of wall.

“What are you working on, spacer?” Julius said.

Startled, the crewman looked up and dropped something. He made a sloppy salute, coinciding with the reverberation of his tools clattering against the floor.

“Yes, sir! I

umm,” he stammered. “I’m working on the irrigation system, sir!”

Julius saluted back and deliberately looked at the man’s rank insignia: Junior Repair Technician, Spaceman Recruit.

“Where’s the rest of your outfit, spacer?” Julius asked.

“I lost the last hand, sir—so, well, I have to clean this up alone. I think the rest are still playing cards in the recreation lounge.”

Julius frowned. He wasn’t sure whether he should reprimand the others for leaving this recruit to do their job, or commend them for working a new recruit to the bone; it did build character in them, after all.

“Very well, carry on,” he said. Julius moved down the hall and sniffed the air again. “I want this fixed and the smell gone by tomorrow, spacer.”

Julius entered the observation lounge at the end of the corridor. As usual, he had the room to himself. The rear bulkhead had a set of tables and a drink dispenser alongside it. Transparent metal walls wrapped around the lounge, giving a breathtaking view of the stars and asteroids. Julius touched a panel on the wall that activated the image magnification.

A holographic projection appeared, covering the walls with a collage of images showing cosmic objects of interest. He moved to the side of the lounge that seemed to give the best view, letting his gaze take in the sight of the quiet companions that stared back at him from the other side of the metal walls.

In one of the images, he could see colorful gases painting the canvas of space with their hazy strokes of bright red and blue swirls. The stars along the edges of the nebula, drowned in its luminescence, faded into tiny speckles within its colorful fabric.

To Julius, the nebula’s beauty paled in comparison to the other spectacle on display: two asteroids on an apparent collision course. Like billiards set in motion on a galactic pool table, the two boulders hurtled through space at each other with fierce conviction.

Julius admired the two great behemoths—both determined to destroy the other, both unwilling to back away from their inevitable collision. The stubbornness within the two rocks mirrored something in himself. For some, finding traits in others that mirrored their own tended to make one resent the other; but not Julius—he had no regrets, no reservations about what he was.

Julius understood that he lived in the shadows, the fringes of modern civilization: a place few dared to visit and even fewer dared to live. He saw a bit of himself in everything around him here, from the beauty of the distant nebula to the cold stone within the asteroids. He loved space and he felt like an integral part of it. Space was his ocean and the cold dark of infinity suited him. It was a place he could live and share with the quiet companions of asteroids and debris.

These companions did not speak, but he could hear them nonetheless; they had stories to tell. Stories of the millions of years they witnessed as they drifted in the void. They witnessed the expansion of mankind into the universe, the countless wars that ensued, and the one big war that nearly ended it all. He was not there for those millions of years, but he had been there for the past 150 or so, and he did have a central role in the great wars of that time—days long past where unsung heroes fought and died.

He looked down at himself with satisfaction; he certainly did not look over 150 years old. The marvels of anti-aging technology gave him the body of someone in his thirties; a final parting gift for humanity from Majesty before its ultimate demise at the hands of the United Earth Parliament.

Blinking, Julius returned his attention to the show taking place in front of him. The two great asteroids now met head on, their impact sending fragments of themselves hurling in every direction. The anticipation of the explosion was overshadowed by its disappointing conclusion.

Julius frowned. The silence of the collision was always unsatisfying. Although he had seen the spectacle many times before, he always hoped to hear a great boom that would somehow defy the fundamental laws of space. He watched the fragments dissipate, spreading out to join the smaller crowds of rock that floated in the dense field of space junk.

Disappointed, Julius left the observation lounge behind and headed to the nearest elevator. Once inside he spoke a command to the elevator panel.

“Deck Nine.”

He waited to hear the sound of the magnetic clamps releasing and the elevator moving, but nothing happened.

“Deck Niiinnne,” he enunciated.

Nothing happened. Aggravated, he opened up the panel and punched in the deck number. He could hear the clamps release and the elevator moved. He was glad Laina was not there to chastise him about the condition of the ship.

The elevator doors soon parted and he stepped out. Deck Nine comprised the senior officer quarters, including his own. He walked to the end of the corridor where Laina’s quarters were and entered.

Laina, a creature of comfort, had the most luxurious suite in the ship. It occupied a space that once comprised several crew quarters; walls had been knocked down in order to provide her the necessary space that she claimed to need.

“What took you so long? Trouble with the elevators, huh?” Laina was seated in a plush couch surrounded by similar couches and chairs, and a small table.

Julius gazed around the suite. Aside from being somewhat extravagant, the thing someone would notice the most was the various pieces of artwork; some on the walls, others strewn about the floor waiting for a place to be hung.

“No, I just took my time so that I could irritate you more.”

Laina gave him a bemused look. “Fascinating. I would almost think you were joking with me, Julius. The years of working with me are finally getting through that emotionless, military exterior of yours.”

“I wouldn’t count on that; there does have to be some semblance of discipline and order on this ship. And it is certainly not going to be taken seriously if it comes from you. No offense.”

Laina shrugged indifferently. “You be the brawn, Julius. I’ll continue to be the beauty and the brains.”

Not in the mood for verbal fencing, Julius found a couch opposite Laina’s and plowed himself into it.

He looked around at the paintings that hung from the wall; one caught his eye. It was a portrait of a heavy cruiser, looking very much like the Sea Wolf. The ship in it had the same saucer-like construction and tube-shaped secondary hull perched on top. A pair of large accelerated proton cannons were visible, along with other weapon emplacements along its cylindrical bow. But the thing that stood out the most from the portrait was a colorful band of gas that appeared to be slicing through the ship’s hull; the source of the gas could not be seen.

“Is that one new?” he said.

Laina followed his gaze. “Oh, yes, and that’s a real picture not a drawing. Something I picked up from an associate of mine who deals in war memorabilia. It is an old and very rare piece actually. The ship is the UES California. The picture was taken from one of its accompanying ships before it got away. The swirls of gas are nanobot clouds ripping through the hull; remarkable scene that must have been. I thought the colorful explosions were pretty.”

Julius stood up to make a closer inspection of it. He studied the image intently, tracing the swirls of nanobots in his mind. They reminded him of the beautiful nebula he had witnessed earlier in the observation lounge.

“They were taken by surprise,” Julius said. “The nanobots had morphed into the form of a large, adrift asteroid. The California had no idea how close the threat was until it was too late. The ship, along with all hands, was destroyed. The rest of the task force barely managed to get away. They had to unleash an EMP burst. It was a full rout.”

Laina made a face. “Then I guess you know the story.”

“It was a historic defeat,” Julius said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Well, the truth is, it looked so much like the Sea Wolf that I just had to have it.”

Julius frowned and returned to the couch.

“You mentioned a personnel problem, Laina?” he said as he dropped himself onto the couch again. A noticeable creak could be heard from the impact. Julius could see Laina wince.

“Yes,” Laina said. “I put the word out that we’re looking for more spacers to crew this flying hubcap of yours. Naturally, no one was interested. But I received word from one of my associates on Mars that a joint UEP and Martian Enforcement sting has apprehended one of our competitors

Stromond—you remember him right? His compound was raided and assets seized. Of course, many of his former employees got away. Word has it they’re hiding out somewhere on Deimos-1. I’m thinking it would be a good idea to recruit them before an ambitious bug crawls up their ass and they decide to go into business for themselves.”

“So they finally got Stromond, huh? Can’t say I’m all that surprised. He was taking too many chances with that drug operation. Dealing in Elation has a bad habit of pissing off the UEP. You know that’s the third major Elation operation they shutdown this year?”

She nodded. “Yes, so I’ve heard. Good thing we don’t deal in it—and we never will. You’ll be surprised to hear, though, that it wasn’t any brilliant work from UEP Enforcement that got him in the end. Apparently, he was turned in by one of his own. What a shocker—pirates are usually such an honorable and trustworthy bunch.”

“Really?” Julius said. “And why would we want to recruit a bunch of potential traitors?”

“Oh, don’t worry, yourself. I know who was really behind the tipoff, and he’s not associated with this group. These ruffians we’re meeting are desperate for a new home; I’ve been in contact with them already.”

“Well, it sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about taking them aboard.”

Laina raised an eyebrow. “You know how hard it is to get people willing to admit to pirate experience? Not something you find on a resume, Julius.”

“Oh, so we’re pirates again now. I thought we were a company with paid employees.”

“Yes,” Laina said. “Highly overpaid employees. But whatever—it’s not easy to get people who know the drill. Especially after that last bout we had against the UEP. Word does spread, you know?”

“Look, if you bothered to keep score, you would notice that the UEP is way behind in the game. Mistakes will happen, but we survive.”

“Oh, calm down. What we lost is a drop in the bucket; both in profits and lives. If you ask me, we lost the worse half of the crew anyway—we’re better off without them.”

“Maybe,” Julius said, “but we’re also running on a skeleton crew, and we have no dedicated pilots.”

“Both problems will soon be corrected, once we hire this bunch on Deimos-1.”

Julius leaned forward— she got his attention.

“Are you saying they’re pilots? You didn’t mention that.”

“Well, I just did. And we need them,” Laina said.

“What we also need,” Julius said, “is a morale boost. After we pick up these recruits, we should put in at New Las Vegas. It’s far enough from UEP influence that no one would be looking for us there. We could park the Sea Wolf near it and send shuttles to Deimos-1. From there, if all is good, they could take the public shuttles off that rock to the Martian resort.”

“They? You’re not going?”

“No. Who could I trust to make sure the remaining crew doesn’t run off with the ship?”

Laina looked stunned. “You don’t really think they’d do that, do you?”

“Don’t think so, but you want to chance it? I think the shore leave will help our morale problem. If for nothing else, then by the time they’re done gambling away their credits, they’ll have no choice but to stick it out with us for lack of money.”

Laina smiled. “Now that’s smart thinking.”

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy look. “New Las Vegas. I haven’t been there in a long, long time. You know, last time I was there, I met this wonderful man from Europa while playing poker. He was tall and handsome and

” Her voice trailed off.

Julius stood up and began to leave the room.

“Hey, where you going?” she asked.

“I’m going to take my shuttle and do a flyby of Deimos-1. I’m not taking the Sea Wolf near it for nothing.”

“I see. I’ll send their files over to your shuttle. I guess you don’t trust my contacts, huh?”

“You know the answer to that,” Julius said as he headed out the door.

CHAPTER 2: FRESH BLOOD

“The medals they pinned on my flesh were strategically placed to hide all the war wounds.”

Julius Verndock, Captain, UEP Covert Space Operations Wing (CSOW), December 2073

The tiny dust particles blew across the landscape, covering it like a thick fog. They struck the buildings in their path, painting the structures with an orange hue. On either side of the settlement, buildings rose up from the sand, their tops disappearing into the Martian night sky. Piercing through the center of the mining settlement was a barely discernable road. Overhead lights aimed down at it, somehow managing to penetrate the thick haze.

The road led into the caverns of the mines. A flimsy-looking handrail led up to the mouth of the cave. Its presence meant to give the miners a way to guide themselves to the unfulfilling job of extracting ore, despite any attempts by the sandstorms to get in the way. Mining machinery was kept in a garage adjacent to the road. There it would be protected from the harsh elements when not in use.

The compound was located in the Tharsis region, east of the extinct Tharsis Montes volcanoes. Other mining operations existed in the region, but none like this one. It had the distinction of using cheap labor flown in each morning from Thyle Prison.

The convicts would be cast into the mines to work their shift. Those that survived the day would be flown back to their prison cells. Sometimes, fewer would return than had arrived, a result of the dangerous conditions that existed inside the mines. Few safety precautions were taken on behalf of the workers. As long as all the proper documentation was submitted, nobody really cared if what returned to Thyle Prison was a living prisoner or a dead one.

Overlooking the compound was the administrative building. Rows of windows, most of them shuttered, lined its walls. A single window had its shutters open, exposing a lit office behind it.

The office had a classic appearance to it, with combinations of wood adorning the walls, doors, and furniture. A bookshelf covered one side, while pictures of Mars’ landscape covered most of the others. The only seemingly modern piece of equipment in the entire office was a holographic projector that sat in the center of the room. Near the window stood a desk where the lone occupant sat.

Jack Dagiri reclined back in his chair while looking out at the Martian landscape. Gusts of wind blew fine, orange dust against the window, forming liquid-like trails that traversed like rivers against the transparent metal.

A chime sounded at the door. Dagiri pressed a button on his desk and the double doors to his office swung open.

Three men appeared at the doorway. The first was his main henchman, Hargo Lawrence—as always, an intimidating figure with a black trench coat and long hair braided with beads down his back. The black bandana around his forehead cast a dark shadow over a face that seemed to wear a perpetual scowl. His massive figure moved to the far corner of the office.

The next two men wore the same dark green mining fatigues that most mining company management wore on Mars to separate them from the fugitive workers, who typically wore a dull gray.

One of them was Steve—his last name escaped Dagiri and really did not seem important, anyway. The portly lapdog managed the tedious details of his operations—and that was all that mattered.

The other man was Victor: the main subject of this meeting. The two of them took seats across the desk from Dagiri.

Dagiri looked to Steve. “Any news on when this storm is expected to pass?”

“Yes,” he said. “Within the next couple of hours it should clear up. It should then be safe enough for the miners to get back to work.”

Dagiri raised his eyebrow. “I don’t care about that. I just want to make sure the prison transport can land.” He turned to the other man, as if noticing him for the first time. “Oh, Victor, glad to see you made it here intact. How was the trip?”

“Long and boring,” Victor said.

“I see,” Dagiri said. “I’m pleased with the job you did on Stromond.”

“Yeah. Look, that’s great, but I really need to go,” Victor said while fidgeting in his seat. “We had a deal. Now can you give me what I came for?”

Dagiri motioned to Hargo, still standing in the corner. The henchman nodded back and left the room.

“It’s on its way, Victor,” Dagiri said. He reclined back in his chair again before continuing. “Tell me: to your knowledge, are there any other Elation operations?”

Victor shook his head. “No, I already told you. Stromond’s was the only one. And what’s left of his people split up and scattered all over the system. It’s over.”

“Leaderless and scurrying like scared rats, I take it?” Dagiri asked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Victor said, his eyes wide and focused on the door that Hargo had left through.

Dagiri studied Victor with some amusement: the constant shifting in his seat, the foot tapping on the floor, the nervous twitch in his eye. It was reassuring to know that the allure of his product was so strong.

“How much longer? I can’t wait much longer,” Victor said.

At that moment the door opened and Hargo returned. He pushed in a hover table with a box container on it. He moved it to the center of the room and then returned to the corner of the office.

Victor jumped up and rushed the table.

“There it is

enjoy,” Dagiri said as he watched Victor digging into the contents of the box.

Inside the case, Dagiri knew, sat stacks of white sheets. Each sheet had rows of square perforations that were pink in color. Victor grabbed one of the sheets and tore off a square.

“That’s a hundred times more powerful than what you’ve probably had,” Dagiri said.

Not answering, Victor peeled off a thin covering from the square and pushed it against the side of his neck. He stood with his eyes closed, apparently waiting for the Elation to take effect. After mere seconds, he dropped the sheet onto the ground and looked down at Dagiri in a daze. He began to lean over and then stumbled to the couch, collapsing on it. His apparent nervousness faded, and he stared off into the ceiling with dilated eyes.

“Are you enjoying it, Victor?” Dagiri asked. “Not bad, huh?”

Victor said nothing.

“Stromond had a great chemist working for him,” Dagiri said. “What you just had is the result of his work—although that’s a bit more pure than what will be hitting the market soon. Way too strong. I just can’t have all my customers dying from the product. That would hamper any repeat business.”

Victor’s eyes began to close and his head bobbed forward until he appeared to be out cold.

Dagiri motioned to Hargo, who went to check Victor’s pulse. Hargo looked at Dagiri and nodded.

“Put the body in cold storage,” Dagiri said.

Dagiri watched as Hargo picked up Victor’s body from the couch, lifting it like it was a rag doll. Then he carried it out of the room, leaving Dagiri and Steve alone.

“Uh, why are we keeping the body?” Steve asked.

“Fresh meat for Nelly,” Dagiri said with a smile. “The Elation-tainted flesh appeals to her.”

“Oh

uh, I see.” Steve swallowed hard. “Well

then, I guess this means we succeeded.”

“Yes,” Dagiri said. “We are finally free to divert resources away from fighting our competitors. Now, finally, we can diversify.”

“Diversify? Okay

well, what did you have in mind?” Steve asked. “A new business venture? Maybe expand the mining operation?”

“Petty goals,” Dagiri said, as he stood up from his chair. He gazed out the window, gesturing to the Martian landscape. “We live in a galaxy of slaves and slave drivers. I’ve squeezed some profit out of the slaves here as a minor slave driver in my own domain. But my reach is limited—and the galaxy is a big place. We need to go after the other slave drivers—the main ones—and put them under our control.”

He turned around, clenching his fists in front of him.

“We need to squeeze them—and see what profits come out,” Dagiri said.

“And who, exactly, are these slave drivers you’re talking about?” Steve asked.

“The corporations!” Dagiri said. “Who else! They are the true slave drivers. They are the ones with the control, with the slaves

and with the profit. But

I want them to be my slaves.”

Dagiri took in a breath and sat back down in his chair. Steve just sat there, staring back at him, obviously not catching on to the bigger picture.

“Bottom line: no more new Elation operations. We let ride what we already have in place,” Dagiri said. “From now on, we’re going to deal in secrets and information. That’s the Elation for corporations.”

When Steve remained silent, probably in mild shock, Dagiri turned his chair and again gestured to the window behind him.

“There’s an awful lot of talent living down in Thyle Prison,” Dagiri said. “Untapped talent rots away in a cell, perhaps mining their lives away at some other settlement. There are other things they could be doing for us, many other things.”

Turning back to his desk, Dagiri reached into a drawer and pulled out an information disc, which he handed to Steve.

“Those are the prisoners I want transferred here immediately from Thyle,” Dagiri said.

Steve waved the disc over his wrist-link. Once the data was downloaded, the disc turned into powder. The wrist-link then projected a holographic image in front of them. Dagiri watched as Steve touched the hologram with his fingers and paged through the data.

“But these guys aren’t miner material,” Steve said. “They’re hackers.”

Dagiri gave him a grin. “Exactly,” he said. “The talent. We’ll bring them in as miners working one of the deep veins here. A tragic accident will happen that collapses the vein and kills them. In reality, they will be sent with new identities to Earth, where they will head up our new operation.”

“Interesting, but how are you going to assure their loyalty?” Steve said.

“Oh, that’s the easy part,” Dagiri said. “All that hackers want is something to hack and the tools to hack with. We’re going to give them both; plus we’ll give them a challenge that will be irresistible to their kind. Even more, though, most of this bunch happens to be hooked on Elation. They’ll be easy to control. If they do get out of line, we can dispose of them; nobody’s going to miss a few convicts. And there’s plenty more hacker talent where those came from.”

“Okay, but what about these tools you mentioned?” Steve said.

“Right,” Dagiri said. “That’s going to be the difficult part. Pull up the last page of data.”

Steve pushed a holographic button. A long list of items appeared in front of him.

“A shopping list?” Steve said.

“Yes,” Dagiri said. “Our hackers are going to need some very high-tech equipment. Some of it is off the shelf, but for a lot of it, you’re going to have to do some shifting through black-market channels. I added some preferred contacts at the bottom of the list. It will be expensive and tedious to obtain it all, but it’s necessary. Use whatever means.”

Steve glanced the listing, scrolling down through it.

“This is very comprehensive,” Steve said. “You’ve been planning this for some time.”

“Of course,” Dagiri said. “Since before we planted our mole into Stromond’s organization. Stromond needed to be out of the picture before we could go into this phase of the operation.”

“I see,” Steve said. “Okay, I’ll get on this shopping list.”

With the meeting between the two over, Steve left Dagiri alone in the office. Dagiri again looked out the window from his chair. The dust storm was now settling. In another hour, it would subside completely.

Dagiri looked at the time. It would be morning soon and he had not slept. He could go now and get a couple of hours of rest, but he had too much work to do. Instead, he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small, handheld device. He pressed it against the side of his neck and closed his eyes. A soft hiss sounded. By the time he opened his eyes, he was reinvigorated.

“Sleep is for those who just want to dream,” he said aloud.

******

Catapulted from the launch bay, the shuttle rotated and dove under the bell of the Sea Wolf, on its way to the rocky debris field outside. Sleek as far as shuttles go, and not without a few surprise weapons hidden under its antiquated-looking hull, it spewed out blue plasma in its wake as the thrusters ignited to full acceleration. On its side, painted in black lettering, were the words Merciless Errands.

The vessel continued its trek past the underbelly of its mother ship until it finally cleared it at the far end. Free from the shadows, it was greeted by sunlight that shimmered across its metallic hull.

Julius sat behind the controls of Merciless Errands. Its cockpit was spacious as far as shuttles went, with a copilot seat and a living area to the rear with bunks. The cockpit was enveloped by a holographic viewscreen, its images showing their environment as well as symbols and navigation information.

An open trap door on the floor led down into the engine compartment. A continuous commotion emanated from the compartment, which had begun the moment they took off. Julius tried to endure the sounds of yelling and metal hitting metal escaping from it.

“Quit your whining, Murdock,” Julius finally said. “Can you stabilize it or not?”

“Damn it, Julius! You’re crazy! I can’t see shit with this helmet on and you want me to work while you’re flying.”

“Nobody said you had to wear a helmet. If it bothers you, take it off and I’ll lay it next to mine on your chair.”

“No way,” Murdock said. “I’m not going to die from decompression when this thing hits an asteroid from this stupid stunt of yours.”

Julius turned his attention back to their surroundings. Islands of debris drifted around them, forming pockets of asteroids and other space junk scattered throughout the empty space.

In the distance, the dense debris wall could be seen. There was activity in the wall as the debris within it seemed to move on its own.

Unseen by the eye were the invisible gravity streams that pushed and pulled everything in its paths. The debris followed the gravity streams, like leaves floating on top of a stream of water.

The streams went in multiple directions, with some of the paths intersecting and crossing each other. This created constant collisions among the rocks and junk. Clouds of space dust would constantly appear as the debris collided with each other indiscriminately.

The dangerous and unpredictable nature of the debris fields kept scientists and other interested parties away from it, leaving it for Julius and Laina to use as a secret base. The path through it was a closely guarded secret that only Julius and the pilots knew. The Sea Wolf itself had a precisely plotted jump coordinate to a cleared-out area of the field. Once inside, the mother ship was effectively shielded and protected by the surrounding streams.

Julius maneuvered the shuttle in between two large asteroids that were on a collision course with each other. The ship slipped in between the two boulders, making an aggressive rolling maneuver that put it within a mere meter of touching them. He looked at the rear display and could see the two boulders collide with each other behind them.

Julius smiled. It was probably fortunate for Murdock that he did not see Julius pull that maneuver.

Ahead he could see the dense debris wall drew nearer. At that moment came a hard shudder in the ship, and Julius felt a strange vibration from the controls.

“Shit!” Murdock shouted from below.

“What just happened?” Julius said.

“The starboard propulsion nozzle is locked!” Murdock said. “The port one is compensating, but you won’t be able to navigate the streams like this.”

A collision warning beeped on his instrumentation. Ahead, Julius could see a dense cluster of debris that their shuttle now drifted toward.

Compensating for the locked thruster, Julius still managed to bank and roll the ship through the debris unharmed. He could hear the sound of debris pebbles bouncing off the hull as they escaped the collision.

“What was that?” Murdock said.

“Relax, just a little bit of rain. But we’re approaching the first stream, so you better get that thruster stabilized. I’ll compensate manually for now.”

“You’re insane, Julius!”

Julius gripped the control stick with one hand and operated the throttle controls with the other. He was pleased to have analog controls in his hands instead of the holographic variety. The panels were the old liquid-crystal type with variable gauges and monitors displayed two-dimensionally.

Julius did not mind the older technology; he’d grown up on it, after all. It also reminded him of his days as a fighter jockey back in the UEP military.

The ship banked unexpectedly to port on its own. Julius tried to compensate by applying more thrust from the port thruster, but the shuttle continued to skid to the left. He looked at the projected course plot on the navigation screen reticule. A few light pockets of debris stood in the path. He rotated the course plot to see if changing their z-axis position would give them a better course. But the other courses were not favorable without full control of the ship.

“Murdock, how much longer on that thruster?” he said.

“I don’t know if I can fix it from here. I think it’s the navigation controller, and that’s not in here.”

“Where’s the navigation controller?”

“Outside,” Murdock said. “On the starboard—aft panel. You’ll have to shut off the engines and stabilize us first before we can attempt a fix.”

Julius tapped a few keys on the panels, a buzz sounded. He tried again and got the same response.

“I can’t shut off the starboard nozzle,” he said. “Would the controller affect that?”

Murdock climbed out of the lower compartment and walked to the forward controls. He tapped a few keys and scowled.

“Shit! The backup controller isn’t working either!” He stopped and swore again. “Of course it’s not! You never had one! It was already burned out when you got your hands on this piece of shit!”

Julius looked at the current course plot; it would take them to the debris wall within minutes if they could not stop it.

He activated the port thruster and applied full throttle to it. He then adjusted the z-axis thrusters and dipped the shuttle in a dive. The shuttle would effectively traverse into a continuous circular dive. It would be a matter of time before a stray rock would cross their path, but it bought them a little breathing space.

“We need to hurry,” Julius said. “You need to talk me through fixing the navigation controller.”

“What? Just turn off the power to all the engines!”

“Turning them off would not slow us down,” Julius said. “We’d still have enough momentum to smash into the debris field wall, unless we can get complete control of all the thrusters.” He reached over to his helmet and began to fasten it on.

“You’re going outside?” Murdock said.

“Of course,” he said. “Give me the tools I’ll need

now!”

Murdock rushed into the compartment and pulled out a metal rod with a tiny touch panel on it.

“Here,” he said, handing him the tool. “If you connect this to the controller, I can upload a fresh copy of the firmware remotely. That should reset the controller and give us back control of the thrusters.”

Julius grabbed the tool and shoved it into one of his suit pockets. He then walked over to the airlock and stepped inside. The door shut behind him.

“Link check,” he said into the conference channel.

“Yeah, I read you,” Murdock replied.

Julius attached the retractable lifeline to his suit and gave it a hard tug. He then tapped the airlock control panel inside. The lights in the airlock turned red and a timer counted down from ten seconds on the panel.

He checked his suit gauges and waited for the outside door to open. The countdown hit zero. The pressure doors slid open, revealing his ocean— the ocean of space.

Julius stepped forward, his magnetic grip boots keeping him planted to the ship. He reached the outside and could feel the lightness of zero-g pick him up as he slowly left the artificial gravity field of the shuttle.

He placed his first step out of the airlock and onto the ship’s hull. He swung his entire body out of the airlock and let the magnetic boots lock him into place.

Standing on the port side of the ship, he felt the momentum of the shuttle push him down into the hull. He struggled for a moment to keep his knees from immediately giving way. It had been a long time since he had been on a space walk and he had forgotten what it felt like.

Regaining his balance, he took a moment to look at his surroundings. He was greeted by the grandness of mostly empty space. Despite being surrounded by the debris phenomena, he could still see the stars and distant nebula seep through the veil of rock.

Julius focused his eyes to the distant beauty beyond the debris. For a brief moment, he could see the ugliness of the debris contrasted against the beauty of the stars. It was as if someone had drawn a yin and yang symbol onto the canvas of space for him.

A piece of space junk, flying dangerously close to him, snapped him out of his reverie. Something about the piece caught his eye. Reflexively, he grabbed it with his hand and caught it. It appeared to be a sheet of metal hull plating. He angled the sheet toward the ambient light of the sun and noticed military markings on it. He could not read it, but he could run it by the computer later to identify it. He attached a belt line from his suit to it and tugged it along with him the rest of the way.

Julius made it to the starboard side of the shuttle. Once at the edge, he had to be careful to firmly plant his boots onto the hull as the reduced gravity from the dive could easily launch him into space. Another few steps and he would be there.

As he walked, Julius half expected a chunk of debris to whack the back of his head. This whole thing could have been avoided if he had waited for Murdock to fix the ship before launching, but that would have been too predictable. He had become accustomed to the constant repetition of life. The last decade felt like a recording played back on a loop. He always wished for something to break the endless cycle, even if it hurt a little.

“Okay, Murdock,” he said as he reached the panel. “I’m there. How do I open it?”

“There’s a release button next to it. It should be colored green. Just press it for five seconds.”

Julius reached down carefully and depressed the button, holding it down. He counted off more than five seconds, but nothing appeared to happen.

“Not working, Murdock,” he said.

“Shit!” Murdock swore. “I don’t know—it has to open! Do it again.”

Julius reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his flicker pistol.

“Any danger in using a flicker pistol on this?”

“Yes! You’re right near the fuel cell! If it goes too deep, you could blow us up! Don’t do it!”

Julius adjusted the pistol’s setting and aimed it at the panel.

“Murdock, do you know what’s worse than being killed by sudden decompression?”

A bright blue beam of accelerated protons burst out of the pistol and impacted against the panel. A quick flash ignited the panel and the small lid was gone.

“Being forced to live in a loop,” Julius said in answer to his own question.

Julius pulled the metal rod tool out of his pocket with his free hand.

“The panel is off. Now, what do I do with the tool?”

“I hate you, Julius. Hell

Anyway, there should be a hole it fits into. Just slide it in. Tell me when you’ve done that.”

Julius leaned forward toward the panel. It had a large hole in the center surrounded by various smaller ones. He slid the tool into the large hole. The end of the tool lit up when it was all the way in.

“It’s in,” he said.

Julius turned to his right and looked at the midsection of the shuttle. He could see the starboard thruster going out.

Without warning, he felt his feet go under him as the ship pushed heavily against him. Julius fought to keep his footing, but both magnetic boots lost their grip on the hull. He threw his arms forward to try to grab the hull but he was already drifting past the ship. Julius held onto his lifeline as hard as he could; he knew what would be coming next.

The lifeline’s slack gave way and it snapped him hard, making his body do a complete turnaround, facing the shuttle. The line broke his momentum and he was now drifting about twenty meters away from the shuttle.

“Murdock, pull me in!”

The lifeline began to retract and pull him to the airlock. Once inside, he laid the metal sheet on the floor and touched the airlock controls. The outside door closed and the airlock began to pressurize. The inner door opened and he took off his helmet.

Julius picked up the metal sheet he’d snagged and inspected it further. It was light for its size and seemed to have been part of a ship’s hull plating.

“What is that?” Murdock asked.

“Something I found out there,” Julius said. “A piece of hull plating.”

“Well, is it worth something?” Murdock said.

“Not to you, but it does have sentimental value. It will make a good gift.”

Murdock gave Julius a puzzled look.

“Let’s continue on to Deimos-1,” Julius said. “We’ve had enough fun here.”

CHAPTER 3: TRANSIENT MOTIONS

“We now embark on a new age. What was once known as the Internet is now an Ocean of knowledge that we bring to the cold dark of space.”

Lewis Edwards I, Co-founder of Omega Research Corporation, July 2046

Once upon a time, Deimos-1 was a symbol of stellar power for the UEP. However, after the formation of the Martian Confederacy and the subsequent war that followed between the two stellar nations, its future came into question and it was on its way to being plunged into the Martian atmosphere by the UEP.

It nearly started another interstellar conflict until a wealthy mogul stepped in to lease it from the UEP until December 2271, when it is destined to fall back into the Confederacy’s ownership per the Treaty of Phobos. Under its temporary ownership, it degenerated into an adult entertainment pleasure port, to the chagrin of both nations.

Julius casually maneuvered Merciless Errands around Deimos-1. The station was saucer-shaped with multiple torus levels. The main torus had six flat docking platforms situated at the outer edges, all filled with shuttles from customers. A holographic animation danced on top of the core section: an exotic dancer performing her seductive routine to entice customers inside.

Focusing his attention on the docking platforms, Julius conducted a fly-by and counted a few dozen shuttles on one of them.

“Murdock,” he said. “Run the transponder codes from those shuttles through the database. I want to know if we’ve had any encounters with them.”

“Aye,” Murdock said.

Julius swung the ship closer to the platform, slowing to a hover over it.

“Anything on this one?” he said.

Murdock shook his head.“No, just ran the last of them through and nothing.”

Julius sped over to the next platform. Curiously, he noted fewer shuttles on this one. As before he slowed their craft to a hover.

“Got something,” Murdock said, pointing. “All of those. They match Stromond’s ships. And that executive shuttle in the center—it’s Stromond’s personal yacht!”

“Stromond’s yacht?” Julius said. “I wonder how much they fought over trying to get their hands on that one.”

Murdock whistled. “That is a nice ship. We should take it.”

“No,” Julius said. “It’s that type of extravagant spending that probably alerted Enforcement to his activities in the first place. If we recruit this bunch, the yacht gets sold.”

“You’re no fun, Julius,” Murdock said.

Julius took Merciless Errands down to the same platform and began to put her down.

“What’re you doing?” Murdock said. “You’re landing?”

“Yes,” Julius said.

The shuttle touched the platform and the plasma thrusters cut off. Julius tapped a screen on the flat-panel displays. Outside, he could see the umbilical docking ring come up from the ground and begin to move toward the shuttle’s airlock.

“Why are we landing? I thought we were just going to do a fly-by.”

“Change of plan,” Julius said. “I want to see this bunch for myself before I recruit them.”

Murdock stared at the archaic umbilical ring. It looked like a mechanical worm trying to devour the shuttle. A slight shudder was heard as the airlock and docking ring pressurized.

“I’m not walking in that thing! Forget it!” Murdock said. “I can’t believe they don’t have a pressure dome on this platform.”

“You won’t need to walk anywhere. You’re staying behind,” Julius said. “I want you to rig their ships with explosives. And if you have time, fix our gravitational warp engines.” Julius stood up from the pilot seat and began stripping off the space suit.

“Explosives? Why?” Murdock said.

“A precautionary move. I want to be able to remote detonate them from in here. Get to it—they need to be ready by the time I get back.”

Julius stepped out into the airlock, leaving Murdock behind. The external airlock door was already open and he stepped out into the umbilical docking ring. A dizzying array of multicolored lights lit the way ahead. The lights flashed in sequence, making the onlooker feel as if he were flying at high speed through the ring.

Julius could feel his feet lighten as zero-g took over. Using lit handrails along the walls, he pushed himself forward. As he reached the other end of the ring, he could see more holographic dancers doing a show for him, beckoning him farther inside.

As he got closer, his feet slowly dropped to the ground as gravity gradually took over. It felt like a full “g” by the time he reached the entryway. He went through and entered the corridor of the outer torus.

The outer torus was more subdued and looked more like a hotel resort lobby than an exotic entertainment station. Towering over him as he walked in was an elegant water fountain that seemed out of place. Red velvet carpeting lined the floors of the torus. To either side of him were other umbilical docking ring entrances; each one had a plush sitting area with red couches that matched the carpeting.

He could see other customers in the corridor arriving and leaving. Julius examined them each as closely as he could, but he did not recognize any of them from the files as Stromond’s men.

Julius left the outer torus and entered a corridor that led to the main entertainment torus. Inside, the corridor’s walls were made of transparent metal, affording a breathtaking view of the stars. He soon entered the entertainment torus and was greeted with the sound of blaring music and rowdy voices.

The entertainment torus was essentially a long, circular corridor comprising multiple bars, seating tables, and exotic dancers dancing on zero-g tables. The corridor segmented into sections, each with its own theme and decor.

He walked down the corridor, planning to go the length of the torus until he could find the pilots. After passing a few sections, he entered one that was themed in fiery red colors and holographic flames going up the walls— it was here he finally saw them seat at a table.

Julius casually walked over to an adjacent bar opposite the pilots’ table. His attention was briefly taken away by one of the exotic dancers. He watched the topless woman perform on top of a zero-g table. She floated and danced above the table, playing to the crowd of onlookers as she gyrated her hips. She continued to do her dance even as she began to spin upside down.

Holographic flames from the table below launched up toward her. She played into the scene by struggling to kick away from the flames, propelling herself higher into the air. Imaginary hands, with red skin and black talons, emerged from below. She tried to kick away from them as they tried to pull her down into the flames.

The hands over up her body, groping her as she pretended to fight them. She arched her head back, allowing herself to lose her fantasy struggle with the demons as they pulled her below. Suddenly, a bright flash emanated from the hologram and both dancer and demons vanished. The pilots applauded and whistled, drowning out the chants of the rest of the audience.

Julius reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet—a bi-fold with one side showing a small control interface and the other a hexagonal-shaped indentation. He reached over to a pile of zero-value coins that were stacked nearby at the bar and inserted one into his wallet.

The display lit up and Julius tapped some keys, filling the coin’s value from his own personal account. He then called the bartender over, pointing to the display of his wallet. The bartender stopped helping another customer and rushed over.

“What do you need?” the bartender said.

Julius motioned over to Stromond’s group. “How long has that bunch been here?”

“Those guys?” he said. “Almost my whole shift, six hours at least. Cheap bunch. No tips. I think they’re out of money or something; they haven’t bought a drink in hours. But you wouldn’t think it, looking at them carrying on.”

Julius handed him the coin.

“I want you to buy them a few rounds of whatever they were having. But I don’t want them knowing where it came from. Tell them they sat at the lucky table.”

The bartender grabbed the coin and then inserted it into his own wallet, emptying its value into his account. He then tossed the worthless zero-value coin onto the bar with the rest— the transfer of untraceable funds was complete.

“You got it,” he said and walked away.

Julius sat back and watched as the group received their drinks. He could see the waitress being asked some questions by the group then she walked away. They began to drink and soon became rowdier.

After ordering a drink of his own, Julius sipped from a mug of beer. It had been awhile since he last drank something from anywhere but the dispenser on the Sea Wolf— it was nice to drink top shelf for a change.

Julius watched and waited until the group had begun their third round of drinks before making his move. He then walked over, beer in hand, and joined them at their table.

Their attention turned from watching the dancers to him. They all gave him the same sneer. Julius smiled in return.

“Who the hell asked you to sit with us, smiley?” one said.

“That’s no way to talk to a future employer,” Julius said.

The same one raised an eyebrow, then asked, “Where’s Laina? We weren’t supposed to meet for another few hours.”

“Change of plan— she’s not coming. I’m Julius. Who are you?” he said.

Julius already knew their faces from the dossier that Laina had sent him, but he wasn’t going to make it easier for them.

“I’m Reece,” he said, then proceeded to point to the others and name them as well.

Reece himself looked like a rough-and-tumble character, with a bad scar on his left cheek and an unkempt beard. The picture in the dossier did not have a scar— perhaps a recent cosmetic accessory.

“I’m kind of the leader here,” Reece said once he was through with the introductions.

“Bullshit,” one of the others said—Cronin, if Julius remembered the names right.

“Shut up, Cronin,” Reece said. “I have Stromond’s shuttle and that alone makes me leader.”

“What happened to Stromond, Reece?” Julius said.

Reece sipped his drink. “He got careless. He let some new guy into the operation who turned out to have mixed loyalties. He fed information to Enforcement about the operation. Eventually, once the UEP drained him of any useful information about Stromond, they sent the dogs on us. Those bastards came at us with a lot of firepower—not just Enforcer ships, but some capital ships they must have resurrected from the UEP Navy. They took out our fighter bay before we could even man a single ship. All the fighters were destroyed and the only thing left was a shuttle port. So a group of us decided to make a run; we grabbed what shuttles we could and jumped out in the confusion. I ended up with Stromond’s prize.”

“What was your position?” Julius said.

“I commanded the defensive squadron,” Reece said. “We provided cover for his shipments from other pirates and any Enforcer patrols. We’re all combat pilots—good ones, too. But, uh

we’re willing to fill any job that you need.”

“As long as there’s good money involved, and I’m not scrubbing floors,” said the one named Tash.

Reece turned to Tash and gave him an admonishing look.

Julius glanced around the table. He had heard that Stromond had some excellent pilots. With the loss of many of Wolf Squadron’s best, he could use some new blood.

“All right,” Julius said. “You know the charter?”

Reece nodded. “Yeah, Laina gave it to us. It’s pretty much the same as Stromond’s; we don’t have a problem with it. What she didn’t tell us, though, was pay.”

“What’s our percentage of the plunder?” Cronin asked.

“It’s even among all the crew at the end of the tour,” Julius said. “Your regular pay depends on your rank and position.”

Reece glanced at Cronin, then back at Julius uneasily. “What’s this pay amount to?”

“Crew will get between a thousand and fifteen hundred credits a week, depending on specialty and position. Officers will get between two thousand and four thousand, depending on rank. Everyone gets life insurance and benefits. Debilitating injuries are compensated for depending on severity. You will all get a copy of all this when you sign on. “

Reece sat back and looked at the others. “You sound like a damn corporation. Do we get uniforms, too?”

The group began to laugh.

“Just pilot uniforms,” Julius said. “If you all sign on, you’ll be flying in our squadron.”

They all stopped laughing.

Reece looked at him. “You have a squadron of fighters— real fighters? Not a bunch of converted transports?”

“Yes,” Julius said. “Z-12s, Z-33s, even a few Z-40 Interceptors. Are you interested?”

Reece looked at the others. “There’s got to be some kind of catch here,” he said.

“Yes, there is a catch. You must be ready to adopt a new life. This is not corper job or easy assignment like what you had with Stromond. We don’t deal in Elation; we deal in piracy and stolen goods.”

“You won’t just be flying cover on a drug shipment with little or no action; you will instead be trying to neutralize a convoy’s cover and steal its cargo. You will have to fight for this and there will be resistance.

“You will be hunted by UEP Enforcers and probably the Confed, too. If you have what it takes and survive it all, you will get your share of the plunder at the end.”

Julius pulled out a digital pad out of his jacket and laid it on the table in front of them.

“If you think you can handle such a life, press your hand to the charter,” Julius said.

The group all looked to Reece, waiting for his decision. Reece squinted his eyes and gave Julius a staredown. It continued for a long moment, neither of them blinking.

Inwardly, Julius chuckled— after more than a century of warfare, how can any man possibly intimidate him?

Reece suddenly slapped his hand down on the charter and then let out a boisterous laugh, the others yelling and cheering with him. After it finally died down, he turned to Julius— a smile on his face.

“So,” Reece said, as he sipped his drink. “What’s our first assignment, Captain?”

“Shore leave at New Las Vegas,” Julius said.

Reece laughed, but noticed Julius was not smiling. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“No,” Julius said.

Reece began to laugh again even louder. “Slap me, mates, I think I died and went to pirate heaven.”

The others obliged.

******

The city was called New York, but there was nothing new about it. It was one of the oldest cities on the North American continent on Planet Earth. Following the A.I. War, New York was also one of the first cities to be rebuilt and modernized. Still, its ruined past from nearly a century ago was only barely masked by the pristine skyscrapers that rose up into the skies—skies that bore the same dark haze of pollution that its citizens tried so hard to eliminate when its cause was the calamity of war.

The streets bustled with mobs of people in suits. They went in and out of the buildings, looking like worker ants entering and leaving their nests of tall anthills—at least, that’s how they looked to Daniel Chin.

Daniel did indeed regard them as he would a colony of ants: mindless insects with a single-minded purpose, doing the bidding of their queen. Their reward was to live, eat, and go on another day of foraging and doing whatever the queen commanded. Their purpose in life was to work

and their reward for good work: more work.

He wanted to puke on their feet, stain their expensive shoes with the bile from his stomach. Watch their reaction as the putrid sight and smell of it attacked their senses

and hope to see them purge from pure disgust.

Daniel would laugh if that happened. He would even enjoy being sprayed and covered with their own bile in return—it would all be worth it. He resisted the urge of going up to one of them and beginning such an experiment. On another day, maybe, but today he had important business.

Walking into an office building’s lobby, Daniel knew he looked very much out of place. His drab clothing, short and slight physique, and unkempt facial hair attracted odd stares. Daniel ignored them, as he always did.

Yes, in his line of work it would be to his advantage to fit in, but he didn’t care. He was good at what he did. So good, in fact, that he could practically announce his intentions before arriving and still complete his mission. His conspicuous attire was as close to an announcement as he would give.

He walked to an empty elevator and stepped in. Although other people stood waiting for an elevator, they did not join him. He smiled, then manually punched in the number for the third-floor suite rather than speak into the panel. The elevator hummed softly as it went up, playing its annoying and happy tune all the while.

Daniel wondered if the music was meant to be a subliminal control device to keep the ants in line. It would not surprise him; the kings and queens of the corporate world would stop at no end to keep the ants happily foraging.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out into a reception area. A lone receptionist sat at her desk in front of a terminal. She looked away from the holographic display toward Daniel. The look of arrogant disgust on her face was enough to erase any doubt of her feeling toward him.

“Can I help you

sir?” she said.

Daniel gave an exaggerated bow. As he raised himself from the bow, he pointed his right hand toward her. A slight hiss sounded and the woman slapped her hand on her chest. She stood up and looked at him, eyes wide, and mouth gaping. Then she dropped onto her desk, unconscious.

The toxic micro-dart in his sleeve was not lethal, but she would awaken with a nasty headache. He walked over to the reception desk and pushed the panel that unlocked the door to the inner office.

Inside was a large and luxurious work space with various couches and small tables. A man sat at a desk, facing a holographic terminal, with his back to the door. He continued to work the terminal, unaware of Daniel’s presence.

Daniel strolled in, closing and locked the door to the office behind him. As he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his flicker pistol, the man whirled around in his chair, at the same time punching a button on his desk.

“Susan!” he said. “I told you I was not seeing anyone now.”

Daniel wiggled the gun in his hand.

The man’s eyes widened. “Susan! There is a man in here—”

“I wouldn’t waste yo breath,” Daniel said, feeling proud of the strong slum accent in his voice. “Yo secretary’s takin’ a long nap.”

The man raised his hands. “Who are you? Who sent you? I can beat whatever your payment,” he said.

“Maybe I work free, like pro bono,” Daniel said. “You know? Like one’a dem big-shot lawyers?”

“But I have money. I can pay you,” he said.

Daniel kicked the chair in front of him, sending it hurling toward the man, who ducked as the chair smashed against the holographic terminal.

“Oh, I know yo ass has money, Cronder,” Daniel said. “But that ain’t why I’m here.”

“Be reasonable,” Cronder said. “Whatever you want! I have friends that can help you, whatever it is—”

“Shut up, wanker!” Daniel said, pointing the gun at Cronder’s head.

Cronder’s lip quivered and his round face was pale white and dripping sweat. “Please, I—”

Daniel thrust the pistol’s barrel into Cronder’s mouth, shutting him up. Cronder stared up at him, his eyelids quivering.

“You know,” Daniel said as he reached into his pocket then put a cigar in his mouth. The cigar sparked and lit up on his first puff. “Normally I do a little bit’a research on someone before I take him out. But when I found you was a scumbag politician

man, that was as far as I had to read. I could’a done this shit for free!”

He blew a puff of smoke toward Cronder and extracted the gun from his mouth.

“Please, God!” Cronder cried. “Please don’t—”

“Mmmm! That all you gotta say? You a pious man or somethin’? It’s a long trip from here to God’s ears, Cronder. And this is hell—and he doesn’t listen to prayers from the damned.”

Daniel took a puff from his cigar and let out a smoke ring.

“I know why God don’t listen to yo ass, but I don’t want him to know that I know the secret. So I’m gonna whisper it to you.” He leaned forward to Cronder’s ear. “You see—God, well, he’s really confused. He’s still trying to figure whether creating man was a good idea or not. In fact, he so busy trying to figure this all out, that he just has no interest in saving yo ass.”

Daniel back away and raised the flicker pistol to point it at Cronder.

“No!”

“And I can’t say I blame him,” Daniel said. “Give my regards to the Maker. Tell him that until he can figure out what to do with mankind, I’ll keep them coming his way. Oh, and tell him to make a whole lotta room.”

The flicker pistol flashed and the accelerated particle struck Cronder square in the chest, sending him flying back into the wall. When his body finally hit the ground, the scent of burned flesh permeated the air.

Daniel Chin holstered his weapon and left the office.

CHAPTER 4: ROUGH WATERS

Two hours after arriving at the bar, Julius left the ruffian pilots and made his way back to Merciless Errands. They would be getting into their own ships and joining him in flight soon. He took the familiar umbilical worm, silently bidding the holographic dancers farewell on his way out.

As he entered Merciless Errands, Julius expected Murdock to be repairing and tuning the shuttle. Instead, he found him snoring away in the copilot chair. Julius smacked the back of the chair hard.

“Are the detonators planted?” Julius said.

Murdock shook his head, blinked a few time, and finally straightened up. “Yeah, yeah

they’re set.” He yawned. “And I got the gravitational warp generator almost fixed; there’s a new part I need, though. We’ll have to go on standard propulsion for now.”

“So that’s the best you can do?” Julius asked as he sat himself in the pilot seat.

“Unless you can pull an anti-proton modulator out of your ass—yes, that’s what you got,” Murdock said.

“Fine. Make yourself useful and start bringing the systems online.”

“Affirmative, Captain, sir,” Murdock said dryly. “How did it go with the recruits?”

“Good so far,” he said. “We’ll see for sure soon enough.”

Julius tapped a button on the communication panel. A three-dimensional image of a face began to materialize in front of him, and soon he saw Laina frowning at him.

“Let me guess,” Laina said. “You saved me the trouble of picking up the recruits

or maybe you decided they’re not worth recruiting and are headed back empty-handed?”

“Partially right,” Julius said. “I recruited them. We’re headed back with them.”

“I see,” Laina said. “Then you agree with taking them on?”

“Perhaps,” Julius said. “They’re combat pilots. I didn’t know they were combat pilots.”

“You never asked me,” Laina said. “Really though, I couldn’t care less if they were custodial workers; we need anything we can get. Are you heading to New Las Vegas now?”

“No,” Julius said. “You can send the first wave of crew on ahead. I’m going to take the pilots on some maneuvers before putting down at the Sea Wolf.”

“I see,” Laina said, rolling her eyes. “Try not to get them killed, Julius—we really do need all of them.”

“If they get killed, they shouldn’t be part of the pack in the first place. Julius out.”

Julius cut off the communication, then looked outside at the platform. Several umbilical docking rings began to snake out from the bottom of the platform and began to attach themselves to the recruits’ shuttles. The new pilots were ready to take off.

After tapping a few keys on the panel, Julius could hear the sound of the umbilical docking ring disconnecting from their own shuttle. A slight shudder reverberated as the propulsion engines engaged.

The lifted off the platform, leaving a trail of blue plasma in its wake. The other shuttles also lifted off and joined behind Merciless Errands.

Julius tapped a button on the communication panel.

“Gentlemen, are you reading me?”

“Affirmative, Captain. We read you,” Reece’s voice came back.

“Good,” Julius said. “Activating encrypted conference channel in five seconds: Five

four

three

two

one. Do you copy now?”

“Roger, we’re here,” Reece said. “Should we plot a course to Vegas?”

“No,” Julius said. “We’re not going to New Las Vegas.”

Julius could hear a grumble from the other pilots.

“Well, why not?” Reece said, sounding a bit too whiny for Julius’ liking.

“Change of plan,” Julius said. “Maintain communication silence until further notice.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s encrypted,” Reece said.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hear your raspy-ass voice, Reece,” one of the pilots said.

Julius muted the conference channel. The pilots would present a problem for Julius. They were arrogant and undisciplined, not unlike some of the young recruits he had trained back in his days with the UEP military. But that experience taught him that in time they would learn discipline or simply fail to come home—death being the ultimate disciplinarian in all things.

Stromond’s organization was loose around the edges, Julius knew from experience. Stromond’s pilots did not have proper drilling, and the whole organization lacked any long-term strategic planning. In the end, it had been Stromond’s unchecked greed that got him.

Thankfully, Julius and Laina played the pirate card different. Yes, they were after the same thing as Stromond: money. However, they balanced greed with risk, maintaining a low profile and only striking at shipments with a large payback. That delicate balance had kept them in the game this long.

Julius entered the coordinates into the navigation system and let it pilot the shuttle. He sat back in his chair and relaxed, or at least tried to. He felt tense—a feeling that seemed to come anytime he was away from his ship. He had come to realize that he only felt at ease when he was on the bridge commanding the Sea Wolf. It had taken him years to come to the realization. Yet he could not understand why. The thought must have come to Laina as well. She had once commented to Julius that, “The only reason you like this ship so much is because it’s the only thing older than you.”

Perhaps Laina was right; or, perhaps it would take another hundred years before he would know the real answer. By then, though, he doubted he would even remember the question.

Julius stared out into the space ahead of them. His eyes searched for something to look at, an asteroid or a comet, but there was nothing except the many dots of stars to return his gaze, and they did not hold his interest. He turned to look at Murdock. He was sound asleep again. It didn’t sound like a bad idea.

They had been up for close to twenty hours now. He unmuted the conference channel. The cockpit filled with the sound of snoring from the other pilots. He quickly muted the link. Apparently they all had the same idea. A couple hours of sleep would not hurt.

******

The room was small and crammed full of equipment. A long series of workstations filled one whole wall, each having numerous holographic displays hovering above and around the occupants. On the other wall stood a sealed door with a high-security lock. Adjacent to the door were two delivery panels, a small one big enough for envelopes and another large enough for a crate.

In the center of the room sat a large holographic projection unit. It showed a colorful display of arching waves, each highlighted with multiple points of light across their span and bits of information flashing across the hologram. The projector was called a “Waterfall”—a visual depiction of the interface between the computers in the room and the rest of the network outside of it.

The other side of the room had a few bunk beds, a food dispenser, and a large dresser, all the amenities necessary to function. It was certainly plusher than any mining prison, but the most important amenity to the inmates was access to computers.

There were three of them so far, though they knew of plans to add a fourth member to their team. Haylek, known in the hacker channels as “Waverider,” had been designated as the leader of the group, more so because nobody else was even remotely qualified for the job, rather than out of any desire of his to lead. Even so, he did not take the responsibility lightly; he was now leading a group of elite hackers with impressive credentials.

So far, being the leader was not really all that difficult. They were all so busy deciphering and cracking the network waves that nobody had time to question anything. Their aliases were the only names they knew each other by; he did not know their names, they did not know his. Hacker aliases were the only name that mattered in the virtual world anyway, carrying with it their earned reputation and status. With every conquest of a system, a hacker would brand each hacked system with their alias; an advertisement that added to their list of accomplishment and would be used for bragging rights—something hackers did a lot of.

The waves that Haylek and his crew now tapped into were part of the global and interstellar network of invisible energy known as the “Ocean.” The Ocean’s waves spanned across the solar system to every city on every populated planet, moon and orbital station. The waves formed the vital infrastructure for all citizens, governments and corporations—becoming the backbone of data and energy delivery to civilization. Though invisible to the eye, the Ocean’s waves could be snooped and examined using the right equipment and skills.

In his day, Haylek could tap and crack every wave in the Ocean within his reach. One of his most infamous accomplishments was diverting data and power from over forty different major wave pipelines to his small apartment, providing him with free electrical power and virtually unlimited data resources that he shared with the hacker community and used to launch assaults on the corporations. He used the stolen resources as barter to trade with other hackers. Ultimately it was the heavy bartering that got him caught when he traded with a nark.

As for the other two, Freeze’s specialty was hacking—or “owning” as they called it—computer systems connected to the Ocean, putting them under his control; Coredump’s forte was developing injection programs that would be uploaded to hacked systems, where they would sit dormant until they needed them. Once activated, the programs would turn the systems into zombies that provided them information and put them under their complete control—unbeknownst to the companies that owned them, of course.

It had been a month since the curious set of events that led them here. They were all serving time for committing their acts of “cyber-terrorism,” as authorities called it. Then came the strange transfer from the in-house mechanical labor at Thyle Prison to the Martian mining facility in the Tharsis region—followed by the meeting shortly thereafter with their new employer.

Then when they were delivered the deal, it felt like they were handed a treasure chest; how could they say no? They received unlimited funds to get whatever they needed to hack the waves again, had been encouraged to hack and own as many corporate systems as they could, and also had been promised they would never see a prison again. It was like a dream.

The dream, though, did have its potential nightmare side.

Haylek felt a throbbing pain in his head. He had been trying to lower his intake of Elation—and headaches were the side-effect. He knew he would have to take it for the rest of his life, even if in small doses. There was no known cure for Elation addiction, except to replace it with other drugs that helped lessen the symptoms—trading one addiction for another.

Haylek stood from his workstation and walked around to look at the other two. He stood behind Freeze, looking at his holographic screens. He had been hacking away at a particular wave for the past few days with no sleep. No doubt, the Elation helped.

“Still on that wave?” Haylek said.

Freeze kept at it—his fingers moving and merging the interface shapes and symbols of his surfaceboard. “Yeah. I’m not going to be happy until I own this.”

“Have you traced out the endpoints yet?” Haylek said.

“Almost,” he said. “They branch out and disperse across the Oceanic Spectrum. But I have the source beam coming from somewhere nearby in a business complex. There’s only a few corpers it could be, and one of them is Omega Research. I hope it’s them; I want to own them.”

“Hmm,” Haylek said. “That would be a nice hack. Our employers would probably like that too. I’m sure they have info worth stealing.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Freeze said. “I just want to own them. I don’t think I have much of a problem tracing the waves; the problem is the polymorphic encryption.”

“Yeah, I know,” Haylek said. “We need an elite decrypter. The best one I knew got caught.”

“Who was it?” Freeze said.

“He called himself The Doc,” Haylek said.

“Oh yeah, I heard of him. He was in that guild Transient Wave,” he said. “Let me see what I can find out about him.”

One of the holographic screens changed to show the top menu of what looked like a record inquiry system.

“What’s that?” Haylek said.

“UEP Enforcement database,” he said. “I’ve owned it for three days straight so far—nice hole in their session setup. Coredump gave me a smooth exploit to run against it—got level-one security in one pass. Okay, let me see

The Doc.”

The inquiry screen changed to display information on The Doc. It showed he had recently been released and was staying somewhere in New York, but gave no specific address.

“Hmm, he got out,” Haylek said.

“Yeah,” Freeze said. “No address, though. You don’t think he’d be out on the hacker channels would he?”

“If I was him, I would be,” Haylek said. “Let me go look; maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Haylek walked back to his terminal and began touching the symbols on the surfaceboard. The holographic screens lit up around him, displaying many pages of encrypted information. Haylek ran his decryption chat client against the code and the pages of information changed into legible text. He scrolled through the list of chat channels and picked a channel titled “3l33t 3ncryption.” He entered the virtual room with an alternate alias.

The holograms around him changed to show countless avatars of the hackers that were in the room with him. His own avatar, a cartoon-like image of a surfer on a wave, popped up to represent him in the chat room.

Halyek scanned through the list of names, doing a search for The Doc. Out of the hundreds in the room, the list filtered down to three variations: D0ch0liday, D0ckt3r, and The Doc. He tried the last one, inviting him into a private room. The Doc’s avatar, a portly cartoon with thick-rimmed glasses and a large scalpel in one hand, gave a raised eyebrow to the request.

“Who and why?” was his response to Waverider.

“Waverider,” Haylek tapped back.

“I know you. Why?” The Doc wrote.

“I’m in an elite group with a lot of toys. We need someone that is elite.”

“I am an 3lit3 d3crypt0r,” The Doc wrote.

“Rider,” Coredump said. “Someone’s triggered our perimeter sensors.”

Haylek turned away from the surfaceboard to look at Coredump. “What is it?”

“Someone’s backtracking your connection,” he said. “They’re cracking our outermost owned system.”

Haylek looked back at the avatar of The Doc and noticed it was animating a slicing motion with the scalpel and pointing at him. Definitely him, Haylek thought.

“How’s he doing?” Haylek said.

“Damn,” Coredump said. “He’s good. He hacked the outer system already, and he’s working on the next system inward.”

“How many systems we got between us?” Haylek said.

“Twelve more,” Freeze answered for him.

“All right, Coredump—go into mind-link and try and slow him down.”

The mind-link interface would allow Coredump to interact with the Ocean using his thoughts, giving him nanosecond response time—it was the only way he would be able to keep up with The Doc’s hack attempts.

“If you get too close, I have to cut you off,” Haylek said, trying to keep the conversation going. He knew that the interaction would break him out of the mind-link intermittently and slow him down.

“If you cut me off, how can I trust you?” The Doc asked.

Haylek thought a moment. He could not allow him to trace his location, but he needed to gain his trust somehow. He leaned back from his chair and looked at Freeze.

“Freeze, give me the authentication info for that UEP system,” he said.

“Why?” Freeze said.

“Just give it to me; trust me,” he said.

Freeze grumbled as he tapped the surfaceboard. The authentication keys were now on Haylek’s terminal.

“I have a gift for you, so you can trust me,” Haylek said.

He uploaded the authentication key to The Doc.

The Doc’s avatar smiled. “I like gifts,” he said.

“He just cracked two more of our systems,” Coredump’s message came up. “We have ten left.”

“Can you slow him down, Freeze?” Haylek said. “Try cutting off his waves.”

“That’s your specialty. I don’t know how to do that,” Freeze said.

Haylek sighed. He would have to make this quick.

“If you like the gift,” he tapped out, “then you can trust me enough to meet again. Meet me same time tomorrow in this channel.”

The Doc’s avatar rubbed its chin.

“Damn! He just knocked down five systems,” Coredump said.

“You better cut him off; he’s really close,” Freeze said.

“Decide fast,” Haylek tapped.

He glanced at the topological map of their network. Twelve dots representing each system they owned marked the path between the Ocean and their location; all but the five dots closest to their location were marked red, the inner five were green. Suddenly two of the green dots went red.

Freeze gasped. “He just—”

“I know,” Haylek said.

“The Big Apple,” The Doc said. “You’re close to me, you know.”

“That’s as far as I can let you in. Hope you show tomorrow,” Haylek tapped in.

He quickly triggered the backtracking program and unloaded the code from the three remaining systems; he then disconnected his wave. The Waterfall went blank as their connection into the Ocean was severed.

“That was close,” Freeze said.

“I know,” Haylek said. “Let’s stay off the waves for an hour. Then create a new line of owned systems into it; I don’t want to use the same ones again.”

Freeze grumbled. “That will take most of the night,” he said.

“Would you rather sleep? I can have Coredump do it instead,” Haylek said.

Freeze reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. He pressed it against his neck and smiled.

“You know I don’t need sleep,” Freeze said. He pointed the device at Haylek. “Want some?”

Haylek shook his head and turned away. It was a difficult decision to shun the Elation. He knew the others did not understand why. Both Freeze and Coredump were delving deeply into the supply they were provided, both severely addicted. Haylek was not sure why he chose to slow down; something inside just clicked and he felt he had to.

He looked at the other two. Even though they were great hackers, that was all they could do or think about. For all their hacking talent, they had the mentality of adolescents. He had to be more of a thinker than they were. There was a bright light somewhere at the end of his long wave and he would find his way to it. The headache throbbed again, so he went to his bunk and tried to sleep it off.

******

Julius awoke from his slumber to the sound of beeping. He rubbed his eyes and retracted the seat from its prone position. He saw Murdock stir awake in the other seat. Julius reached over and acknowledged the alarm on the navigation computer.

He’d half expected to experience another dream, perhaps something from his days at CSOW. But his sleep was not invaded with any such dreams this time. Ahead of them on the forward display, he could see the beginning of the junk field approach. He opened the conference channel.

“Wake up, pilots,” he said. “It’s time to earn your pay. Everyone report in.”

He waited for the groggy bunch to acknowledge.

“Ahead is a debris field that we must navigate. It is not an ordinary debris field. Inside this field is a gravitational anomaly that will wreak havoc on your navigation controls. You will not be able to navigate through it unless you do exactly as I say. What lies beyond is our home base. There is no turning back now.”

“We’re with you, Captain,” Reece said.

“Good,” Julius said. “Because, like I said, there is no turning back. If you do not survive this, it will be because of one of two reasons: you did not follow my orders precisely or you attempted to turn back. The gravitational anomaly inside the field is composed of complex gravity streams.

“These streams will propel you deeper into the chasm. Once we penetrate the field, the only navigation you do will be the jumps onto the adjoining gravity streams that I instruct you to take. If you do not follow my instructions exactly, you will lose control of your ship and become a permanent part of the debris.

“If you attempt to turn back and flee, you will be blown apart. I want you to divert your attention to the aft section of your ships. Attached to each of you are explosives that I can detonate remotely.”

“Damn it, Julius,” Reece growled. “We gave our word! This is bullshit!”

“Nevertheless,” Julius said. “You have seen our home base. Nobody gets to fly home with that secret.”

Julius closed the link and turned to Murdock.

“Is the link-up ready?” he asked.

Murdock nodded.

Julius reopened the conference channel.

“Your navigation computer is now linked up with ours and sharing telemetry. My ship will give you advance notice of the jumps so that you can prepare. It will also give you guidance on proper thrust velocity and course vectors for changing streams. Follow my lead; we will be hitting the outer ring of debris in thirty seconds.”

The group of ships followed Merciless Errands as it headed into the anomaly. As they approached it, they could see the debris seemingly rattle against an invisible barrier.

“The insertion is relatively easy,” Julius said. “Just follow my lead and match my moves precisely, no matter how unusual they may seem.”

Julius grabbed the controls firmly and prepared himself.

“Don’t worry,” Reece said. “Just don’t fly backwards and we’ll be shadowing your six.”

“Five seconds,” Murdock said.

“Get ready, pilots,” Julius said.

Merciless Errands shot ahead, leaving a hazy trail of blue plasma in its wake. The ship maneuvered into an open area in between larger pieces of debris. The others followed closely behind, in a straight-line formation.

The lead ship, without slowing, made a sudden climb, traversing closely against a stationary debris wall; the other ships followed, accurately matching his maneuver. The group hugged the debris wall while simultaneously pitching and banking to avoid other transient pieces of debris in their path.

Julius timed the next maneuver in his mind—he was so well-practiced in it that he did not even need the computer’s guidance anymore. He made a sudden, aggressive bank to the right—just missing a collision with another debris wall in their path. The other ships appeared to have made it—well, at least no explosions registered on his tactical.

“How are they?” Julius asked Murdock.

“Good so far,” he said. “They’re matching your moves accurately. Not bad considering they’re probably hungover.”

“How did you know they were drunk?”

“I can smell the alcohol on you from here. Figured that’s why you were gone so long.”

“Sorry I couldn’t bring you along. Next time.”

“Yeah, the least you could have done is bring me some fresh alcohol. The stuff that comes out of the dispenser on the Sea Wolf tastes like it was filtered through someone’s ass.”

Julius smiled. “You’re not getting top shelf on a pirate ship.”

“Ha! I bet Laina has top shelf,” Murdock said with a snort. “Coming up on the first stream.”

The squadron slowed, their thrusters breaking their inertia until they came to a halt in front of another debris barrier. This time, the debris was moving rapidly in a straight, uniform line across their horizon.

“Gentlemen, you have done well,” Julius said.

“Yeah, for a bunch of rookies,” Murdock chided.

Julius shot him a silencing look—Murdock could get away with a lot more than most, but even he would back down from that stare. Julius needed the pilots focused, and angering them would be a distraction.

“What you went through so far was the easy part, now comes the real challenge,” Julius said. “This place has several thousand different gravity streams, each carrying debris in unique patterns. It has taken me years to map them—and I have only been able to learn a mere fraction of what is out here. Fortunately, you will only need to learn how to navigate three streams to get to where we’re going. What you see before you now is what we call Stream One; beyond it are Streams Two and Three. Each stream has two polarities operating in tandem. One part of the stream flows in one direction, the other in the exact opposite direction—essentially, two-way traffic. We will insert ourselves into Stream One and cut power. The gravity anomaly will take us to the next stream, along with the rest of the junk. You cannot maneuver inside the stream. Do not attempt to fly it, it will fly you.”

Julius heard one of the pilots snort.

“Sounds easy you think?” Julius said. “I will tell you that the only thing that’s easy out here is a date with the Milky Way Farm. Look around pilots, some of what floats out here was once a hotshot pilot like you. They decided not to listen to their captain, so now when Wolf Squadron flies out here, they wave at the rookie remains. So go ahead and wave now, pay your respects to the former members of Wolf Squadron. Do it now while you are still the one doing the waving, instead of the one being waved at.”

They stayed silent for a moment.

Murdock turned to him. “I think they must have shit themselves, boss.”

“Just follow my direction and instruction,” he continued. “We do this one at a time. I will go first.”

Julius activated his propulsion and aimed the ship toward the debris stream. He put the ship under an empty patch of the stream, matching its speed with the debris flying overhead.

He cut off power, his inertia kept him moving. The influence of the gravity stream pulled him in gradually and merged Merciless Errands into the empty patch within the debris, dragged along it like a leaf floating on water.

“Reece, you’re next,” Julius said.

“Okay, mates,” Reece said. “I’ll see you all in hell.”

Reece’s ship shot out toward the stream. He carefully maneuvered himself under the debris stream, following the speed and course of the debris. Before cutting his engines off, he shot off an upward burst of propulsion, causing his ship to insert itself quicker than Julius’ did.

“Beat that mates,” Reece said. “I’m still the best pilot of the bunch, even when my ship has the maneuverability of a space tug.”

“We’ll see about that,” one of the pilots said. “I’m next right?”

“Yes,” Julius said. “But do not try to show off in here. This is more dangerous than it looks.”

“Yeah, listen to the man, Tash,” Reece said. “Besides, you can’t top my flying anyway, so don’t bother trying.”

“Can that!” Julius said. “You will have plenty of other opportunity to prove yourselves.”

“We’ll see about that one, Reece,” Tash said, ignoring Julius.

Tash’s ship darted forward toward the debris field. He maneuvered his ship recklessly under the debris field and darted upward into the field, beating the time it took Reece.

“See?” Tash said. “I can out fly you any day, Reece. I should be commanding this group.”

“Turn your propulsion off!” Julius growled.

Tash’s ship began to spin and bounce inside the debris field uncontrollably.

“It’s

I can’t control it,” Tash said, his voice rising.

The ship began to wobble wildly, drifting close to the surrounding rock debris.

“Do not fight it!” Julius said. “If you try to control the ship, you will plunge into the debris. Shut off your engines and let the gravity take over!”

“Do what he said, mate!” Reece said.

Tash’s engines winked out and the ship began to stabilize. The influence of the gravity stream took his ship in with the rest of the debris and pushed it along.

“I hope that reckless act of stupidity illustrates my point,” Julius said. “I trust I don’t have to repeat myself now.”

A grunt of acknowledgement answered him back. The rest of the pilots carefully inserted themselves into the stream without problems. The gravity stream carried the whole group through the immense field safely.

“This is almost like public transportation,” Reece said. “It’s remarkable.”

They soon reached the juncture for the next stream. Stream Two looked far larger than Stream One. The stream curved outside of Stream One’s path, looking almost like an exit ramp of a highway.

“Stream Two’s coming up,” Murdock said.

“We’re coming up onto the next stream,” Julius said to the pilots. “Insertion for this one is dangerous. You have to time it so that your engines only come on at the intersecting point, which is where the gravity is the weakest. At the same time, you need to plan your trajectory into an empty pocket of the debris. There is no room for error.”

Julius held the controls firmly in his hand. He looked at the curving stream ahead, focusing his attention on the area where he would insert. The stream was upon them in moments; he activated the plasma propulsion engines and shot Merciless Errands up into the trajectory of the second stream. He cut the engines off quickly, letting Stream Two’s gravity influence take over.

“Now, no showing off,” Julius said. “You are not being graded for it. Just do it safely; there will be plenty of opportunities for you show off, but this is not one of them.”

The other pilots followed Julius’ maneuvers, inserting themselves into the second stream without incident. The ships floated along the stream of junk, carrying them deeper into the heart of the debris field.

“All right,” Julius said. “At the end of this stream, we will need to make an aggressive maneuver. Stream Two and Three plunge directly into each other, so if we stay on it we’ll be showered by debris from Stream Three—and you will be destroyed in seconds.

“The gravity in this stream is powerful; the slightest resistance to it will cause you to bounce madly. We cannot maneuver in the field until the moment that we begin to intersect with the opposing stream; that is where the gravity is its weakest.

“When we reach the end of the stream, follow my moves as closely as possible. Once we clear the stream, we will be away from the debris fields and the influence of the gravity fields.”

“Wait a second,” Reece said. “Can we use our propulsion to adjust our trajectory now? We might not even be facing the debris in the right direction when we get there.”

“No,” Julius said. “You can’t. Use your instruments to adjust your trajectory when we hit the end of the stream. If you try to now, you will spin out of control.”

“Understood,” Reece said.

“Use dynamic imaging,” Julius said. “That way you can see the image your trajectory is facing.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Reece said.

Julius frowned at their apparent inexperience. They should have been using a self-correcting image so that they could always look at their trajectory no matter what their rotation.

Looking ahead, Julius saw that they neared the end of their stream. Beyond it, the opposing stream’s debris showered into their stream. The boulders of rock from the conflicting streams smashed into each other at full force. Particle fragments bloomed out from the constant collisions, spewing variable amounts of debris outward in all directions.

Any ejected matter that drifted under Stream Two would be grabbed by a reversed gravity influence, taking it back along the stream’s path to its insertion point.

Julius watched the devastation with some amusement. To anyone else, it probably would have been a frightful scene.

“Get ready, pilots,” Julius said.

Merciless Errands reached the end of the stream, and Julius powered on his propulsion engines. A blue stream of plasma propulsion shot out from behind the ship, rotating it away from the oncoming debris. The ship made an aggressive bank just as the opposing debris field shot its payload of rocks at it.

Julius banked and rotated the ship at the same time, using the dynamic imaging in his cockpit to adjust his course out of the field. He soon broke free from the deadly debris and was out of the gravitational anomaly’s influence. The ship sped out into the emptier space ahead.

“How are they doing?” Julius said to Murdock.

“They’re managing,” Murdock said. He paused. “Not bad. They’re out.”

“Congratulations, pilots,” Julius said. “You made it.”

The other ships took up positions flanking Merciless Errands on both sides. They flew gracefully in a delta formation, following the lead ship into the darkness ahead.

“What the?” Reece said. “I’m seeing something big and nasty ahead. It looks like a capital ship—be ready to pull out of here!”

Julius looked ahead and smiled. The only thing on the horizon was the Sea Wolf. He only hoped that he could get the same reaction from his enemies.

CHAPTER 5: ERUPTIONS FROM THE PAST

“They were difficult times, you have to remember. There was overpopulation, environmental disasters, economic disasters, distrust among worlds, just to name a few of the problems of the time. Sometimes insane times call for insane solutions, and that’s when Majesty came through.”

Excerpt from the personal memoirs of Richard Denkin, former first President of the United Earth Parliament

Link: Omega Research Corporation

A long, wood table adorned the conference room. Its glossy surface reflected the white lights overhead. The reflections exposed the fine, wood grain patterns in the material. Engraved on the surface of both ends of the table was the Greek symbol for the letter Omega, with a circular black and gold design—the logo for Omega Research Corporation.

The chairs lined up along the table boasted plush, black leather. At the end of the table sat a lone occupant. His chair was more elevated than the rest, signifying his high rank in the company. To most at Omega Research he was known simply as the “Chairman.” Only the others who would soon fill the empty chairs knew him by name, and even then, the only other name they called him was “Chairman Riaz.”

The doors to the conference room opened and the six Directors walked in and took seats at the table. A guard, wearing formal attire, stood at the entrance waiting for the Directors to arrive. Once they all took their places, the Chairman motioned the guard away, leaving the seven executives alone in the room.

The Chairman glanced at the faces around the table. Omega Research Corporation’s Directors— his Directors, looked like fleeced sheep. Their defeated expressions told him all he needed to hear. Without saying a word, Chairman Riaz pushed a button on his chair.

A low hum sounded and a barely visible field of blue energy appeared around them— enveloping the entire room. The null field hugged the walls and doors like a cushion. Riaz knew that the null field would shield them from any snooping devices, be it audio, visual, thermal, or molecular imaging—all forms of surveillance would be blocked. However, the technology could only remain active for a matter of minutes—so he would need to make this meeting short.

The Chairman pressed another button on his chair and the lights in the room dimmed. In the center of the table, a hidden holographic projector lit up; various colored graphs and tables with figures popped up. A robotic-sounding voice ensued from the projector.

“Omega Research Corporation ongoing earnings decreased 25 percent to 19.5 billion credits. Ongoing earnings per share decreased 21 percent to 5.1 credits

”

Judging from the faces around the table, this was not news to them—as he expected.

“

Income from the Ocean Maintainer Services dropped 19 percent, which constituted approximately 70 percent of the declining income. ORC stock downgraded. Poor performance contributed to aggressive competitor activities and lack of technological advances by ORC in recent months

”

The report soon ended. The Chairman let the figures hover over the table until they all had a good chance to digest them. With another push of a button, the hologram disappeared, and the lights brightened in the room.

“I take it this news did not come as a surprise,” the Chairman began. “We have stippled our own research and development to throw off the government’s hounds. This has obviously damaged our competitive standing and financial position. And it is a matter of time before the UEP resumes its interest in us.”

The Chairman waved around the table. “We are losing. Now, what do we do about it?”

After a moment of silence, one of the Directors raised his hand.

“Chairman, we have halted the government’s investigation. Surely we can resume exploiting the A.I. technology and continue with the plan.”

“No,” the Chairman said. “We have only delayed the UEP. Chin is a temporary safeguard, not a solution. We cannot risk drawing interest in our activities again so soon.”

Riaz paused, looking around the table. For several moments, no one else spoke.

The Chairman slammed his fist on the table. “I need to hear ideas! Our next actions will determine our fate. This is not just Omega Research that is at stake; it is our survival we are discussing here. You are all involved! This corporation’s fate is your own fate. Is there a hint of innovation anywhere around this table? Or is cheating the only way we can grow this company?”

The Directors looked at him, their expressions sheepish. They had become so complacent, that they were now clueless on how to achieve organic growth through traditional means.

At that moment, a warning buzzer sounded indicating that they only had thirty seconds before the null field would collapse.

“Very well,” Chairman Riaz said. “I am going to have the A.I. moved from our R&D facility to a safe location. If the government resumes its investigation, we do not want a surprise raid uncovering it. We will reconvene in a week’s time. By then, I expect some ideas from you all. Meeting adjourned.”

The Chairman pressed a button on his chair and the dark blue null field around them vanished. The doors to the conference room opened and the guard stepped in. The Directors all stood up and left the conference room, leaving the Chairman sitting alone. Riaz motioned the guard away, who left, closing the doors behind him.

Riaz pushed a few keys on his chair, and the lights dimmed. The holographic projector came alive again. Floating above the table was a hologram of a diamond-shaped device. The device was elongated and about two meters tall. Its translucent surface seemed to give off an odd glow. In the hologram, several scientists were working around the device.

The Chairman stared at the device intently. He knew the device not only held the past of Omega Research, but the future as well—and it was a future with infinite possibilities.

******

Seven shadows danced across the hull of the large vessel. The seven small ships traversed across the top of its hull in a wide delta formation. Merciless Errands led the squadron of ships, guiding them above the Sea Wolf.

Inside Merciless Errands, Julius looked across his capital ship’s hull, examining the details he rarely got a chance to see. The saucer shape of the Sea Wolf was more visibly prominent from this angle. He saw running lights illuminate the hull plating, exposing what he realized were imperfections in the hull, undoubtedly caused by the ad hoc repairs done to it following their numerous battles.

As he descended closer, he could see spots where the once shiny silver paint had now turned to various shades of black. Even the Jolly Roger emblems that adorned the port and starboard sides of the ship were now fading into a barely recognizable blemish. Without the time and resources to devote to keeping the ship’s beauty in check, he would have to live with it for now.

Julius pulled his ship up and pointed the squadron to their destination—the dorsal section. The dorsal hull was a long cylinder that ran along the center of the ship. Here on the hull the name Sea Wolf was emblazoned in red lettering.

“Hey, boss, we’re getting awfully close,” Reece said over the link. “We going to crash into the thing or what?”

Julius moved a hand over a panel and keyed in a combination sequence.

Ahead, on the back of the dorsal hull, a transparent, blue force field appeared. Beyond it was the entrance to the landing deck.

“Huh, look at that,” Reece said. “I thought only carriers had fighter bays.”

“Carriers and the Sea Wolf,” Murdock said. “It’s the only cruiser to have them.”

A blue light inside the shuttle cockpit lit up and a soft chime sounded, signifying that the cruiser’s computer was ready to begin remotely auto-landing the squadron.

Julius ignored the indicator, instead taking the ship into the bay manually.

“Why do you always have to do things the hard way, Julius?” Murdock said.

Julius ignored the comment, instead concentrating on the launch bay ahead.

The squadron of ships dove down into the force field, their delta formation changing to an abreast formation. The inside of the launch bay was divided into multiple lanes, and each fighter picked a free one to land on.

Julius could see his ship passing over the trigger line on the landing lane, and at that moment he felt a jolt as the tow beam emitter took hold of the ship and began to slow it down.

He deactivated his engines, allowing the emitter to take control the ship. The emitter guided the ship away from the landing lane and put it down a few meters away in a parking spot. The procedure was repeated for the other the ships by their own lane emitters.

Julius and Murdock both exited the shuttle. On Julius’ order, Murdock walked off with a couple of crewmembers to disarm and remove the remote detonators from the other ships.

A crewmember in a pilot’s uniform walked up and stood by Julius’ side. Both of them waited on the flight deck for the new recruits to assemble. Reece and the rest of the pilots soon filed up.

“Okay, recruits, I’ll keep it short,” Julius said. He gestured toward the crewmember next to him. “This is Ensign Jacobs. He will be orienting all of you on what you need to know. After you are settled, you can accompany the last wave out to New Las Vegas for a day. If you have any questions, Jacobs should be able to answer them.”

The pilots looked at each other, then at Reece expectantly. Reece raised his hand.

“Yes?” Jacobs said.

“Is there any way we can get an advance payment?”

“Advanced payment?” Jacobs said, turning to Julius and looking dumbfounded.

“Well, uh, none of us have any credits left,” Reece said, looking down at the deck. “We blew it all at Deimos.”

Julius frowned at them.

“We don’t need much, sir,” one of the other pilots interjected.

“Perhaps you can ask your new brothers at arms for a loan when you get to New Las Vegas,” Julius said. “Assuming you still want to go. Jacobs will handle the rest of your questions.”

A rumble of questions erupted from the group as they surrounded the ensign. Julius turned away from the pilots and headed back into his shuttle. Once inside, he retrieved the metallic space debris and took it with him to the main elevator.

“Deck nine,” he said to the elevator.

He half expected it not to work, but this time the elevator began to move; probably just luck. The doors soon opened and he exited near Laina’s suite. He pushed the panel to the suite, the door opened, and he entered. Inside, he could see Laina hovering over a pile of artwork on the floor.

“Running out of room, dear?” Julius said.

Laina half turned to him, an annoyed expression on her face—she hated to be called “dear.”

“Just trying to organize, honey,” she said, a little sneer on her lips. “I don’t suppose you have any desire to trade up for a nicer ship? Perhaps something with more spacious quarters?”

Julius stepped farther into the room.

“Here,” he said, tossing the metal plate at Laina as he walked all the way in. Laina reached out to catch it, fumbling with it before taking hold of it.

“It’s not heavy,” Julius said.

Laina turned the plate around, examining it. “Oh

surprisingly light.”

“It’s duratanium,” Julius said. “Same stuff the hull plating of the Sea Wolf is made of.”

Laina reached out to hand it back to Julius.

“No, it’s yours.” Julius held his hand out. “A gift for your collection.”

“Come on, Julius, I don’t need any more junk.”

“No, it’s not junk—it’s a piece of history. It’s hull plating from the UES Vindicator. I ran the codes through a database. Vindicator was part of the task force accompanying the UES California before it was destroyed by the A.I., just like in your portrait over there.”

Laina brightened somewhat and began re-examining the plate. “Oh, how did you get it?” she asked.

“It was floating out in the debris field. The gravity must have attracted it centuries ago. Who knows what else is floating out there.”

Laina nodded slowly, then began setting the plate down near the pile of artwork on the floor.

“You do know it’s your birthday, right?” Julius said.

Laina walked away from the pile and poured a drink from a liquor cabinet. She sat herself down on a couch with drink in hand.

“Yes, of course,” Laina said.

Julius walked over and sat on a couch opposite her.

“What’s the matter then?” Julius said.

She silently stroked her hair and gazed up at the ceiling in thought.

After a moment she finally spoke. “Have you ever had any second thoughts about the path you have chosen?”

Julius stretched back in the couch. “Never! Life is too long to torture yourself with trivial things like regret.”

“I’m serious, though. Have you ever wished you were in a

different line of work?”

Sighing, Julius rolled his eyes. “You’re thinking about retirement again. You do this every year.”

“No,” Laina said, glaring at him. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, it is something I have considered—but not for the reasons you might think.”

“And what reasons are those?” Julius said.

“You think it’s because I consider this lifestyle beneath me,” Laina said, motioning to their surroundings. “But that’s not it. As far as I am concerned, the corporations are the lowest form of life on the galactic totem pole and our operation is several notches above them.”

“No argument there. So what are your reasons then?”

Laina paused. “Our operation has made a good deal of profit and avoided bloodletting in the process. We have even managed to donate to charities and the needy occasionally. We recruited those who needed to be saved from ultimate demise at the hands of Enforcement, giving them homes and a purpose of sorts.

“But probably most importantly, we have done it our way, not succumbing to the temptations of a dark enterprise. We have reached every goal we set forth—you and I—all those years ago. But now, as I look at us, I realize none of it really matters. We may well live forever and continue, but the fact is we don’t make a difference.”

Julius crossed his arms over his chest. “Laina, you’re looking for a hint of reason for what we do, but you won’t find it—so quit looking. You think what we have done is some part of a grand plan, but there is no grand plan. The universe is just chaos and we are a miniscule part of it.”

Laina took a sip of her drink. “Perhaps. I suppose the evidence would seem to suggest you are right. Yet, there is so little we know. Take for example the events that took place over a century ago during the A.I. War. There is so little documented about those years—why is that?”

Julius glanced up at the portrait of the nanobots attacking the UES California.

“There were a few reasons,” Julius said. “For one, many of the databases that housed much of the information about the time were inadvertently destroyed in the process of killing the A.I. There was also a need to destroy many records about the A.I. to prevent the technology from resurfacing. When the laws to eradicate any A.I. technology were passed, a great deal of information pertaining to the era was outlawed.”

“Yes, I understand all of that,” Laina said. “I just find it almost surreal to think of a life like the one they lived—the one you lived. I mean, you were there. A life where no one really had to work, a life where all the difficult and important decision making and chores of mankind were done by a superior intelligence, a world where the corporations did not rule. It is as if we were given the garden of Eden. But something happened to change it.”

“It’s hard to remember that far back,” Julius said. “I only have vague memories of the time.”

“Don’t you find that unusual?” Laina said. “Everyone I talk to can’t remember anything concrete about that era.”

“No, not really,” Julius said. “Even though we are, for all intents and purposes, immortal, our minds still can only retain so much. Probably the most vivid memories I have of the era come in dreams.”

“Dreams—really? What are these dreams like?”

“Well, I had one recently that was extremely vivid. Probably more vivid than any conscious memory I can recollect of the time. What are you getting at, Laina?”

“I’m not getting at anything,” Laina said. “I just don’t understand why such a utopia could have been destroyed like that. It was a tremendous loss.”

“It was not our choice,” Julius said. “The A.I. wanted to become too independent. It was too powerful as it was. If we had allowed it to reproduce like it wanted, it would have made us humans completely obsolete.”

Laina took a sip of her drink, finishing it and setting it down on a table. “Have you ever thought,” she said, “that we were meant to become obsolete—and like the stubborn race we are, we chose to destroy our successor instead?”

Julius took in a deep breath. “You didn’t see what I saw the A.I. do with its nanobots. I saw entire cities, filled with people, burnt to ashes before my eyes as I flew overhead unable to do a thing about it.

“You didn’t feel the terror of everyone that lived through those times or see the innocent lives that were lost, slaughtered by the A.I. If you saw what it did, you would have no doubt the choices we made. We were the honorable and destined victors in that war.”

Laina looked dubious. “Interesting

Seems your memories are vivid enough to recollect all of that. Tell me more about it.”

Julius stood up, feeling a surge of anger inside. “You are too young to understand what happened. Just keep on drinking, Laina. Perhaps you will manage to have a revelation of some grand purpose that will justify your existence before your next birthday.”

Laina’s eyes grew wide as she jerked her head back. Saying nothing else, Julius left her quarters.

CHAPTER 6: PROFITABLE ERRANDS

Dagiri was dressed in formal attire; his long suit was jet black, with a cape draping down the back, and highlights of crimson red running through it. That he carried a stun whip in one hand would have seemed an unusual enough accessory to his outfit, but the fact that his other hand carried a severed leg seemed even more so.

The whip made Dagiri feel in control. He hovered over the wild beast, projecting his authority to it. Nellie’s eyes glared at him, as if attempting to size him up. He snapped the whip in her face, stopping short of actually striking her snout. The electrical snap sent her jumping back, and she let out a gurgling sound that would pass for a yelp.

He stifled a smile, not wanting to show any positive emotion to Nellie, but, God, the beast was always a sight to behold. A genetically engineered toy of his—part tiger, part lizard—Nellie’s scales and serpentine tail hinted at its reptilian pedigree. Around its neck, though, it had orange fur with black stripes and its face was like that of a tiger, with fangs protruding from its snout.

Dagiri motioned with the whip to a corner of the office. Nellie cautiously skulked over to it as instructed.

“Very good!” Dagiri said, tossing the severed leg to her. “Good girl!”

Nellie caught the snack with her paw and began chewing on it. A snap resounded as it cracked the bone inside the flesh.

“Now stay!” Dagiri instructed.

He then walked over to a holographic projector, laying the whip on his desk. He stood patiently, waiting for it to come alive. Soon a man’s face materialized in the air. The man gave an annoyed look as he raised his eyebrows.

“I am sorry, Mr. Dagiri.” The man’s voice betrayed his apathy. “Although your mining operation is profitable and has maintained a positive cash flow, you do not have enough total assets on file to warrant a loan of this magnitude. There is simply too much risk for such an outlay. And without the loan you cannot afford to buy the controlling stake in my company.”

Dagiri tried to keep his composure, but he had waited hours for this decision, and the waiting had cut into his Elation time.

“You know, Mr. Kravis,” Dagiri said to the image of the Director hovering before him. “I am sure if you put forth enough effort, you could secure me this loan. I have a great deal of influence and pull in various circles of both business and government. I think it would be not only beneficial in the long run for us both, but it would certainly be in your best interest. You need to secure this loan even if it means an initial loss on your end.”

Kravis chuckled. “Who the hell do you think you are, Dagiri? I am a businessman; if there is no profit in it for me, then there is nothing more to discuss. Unless, of course, there are undeclared assets you wish to put on the table now?”

“No,” Dagiri said, sneering.

“Then I’m afraid there is nothing more to discuss,” Kravis said.

Dagiri began to turn away from the hologram, then stopped halfway, looking thoughtful.

“You should know, Mr. Kravis,” Dagiri said. “There are things in life that even you may find more important than profit.”

The hologram smiled. “Really, Dagiri? And would that be?”

“Your health.” Dagiri returned the smile.

The other man kept his smile for a moment, then his expression turned sour. “Good night, Mr. Dagiri,” he said, and the hologram vanished.

Dagiri walked over to his desk and sat down. The meeting had not gone as he had hoped. His entanglements in the drug syndicate clearly made it difficult to diversify into legitimate operations.

He really wanted to get his hands on MK Enterprises; they were a former defense contractor now manufacturing 30 percent of UEP Enforcement’s vehicles and arms, and 10 percent of the Martian Confederation’s. He had inside information that they were on the verge of securing a deal with the Martian Confederation that would boost sales two-fold. This was likely the reason Director Kravis was so reluctant to take a deal; he knew he would have other, higher-paying suitors if the deal went through.

Dagiri heard a chime at his office doorway; he pushed a button on his desk and the doors opened.

Steve walked in, with a data pad in hand. Nellie let out a growl and Steve stopped cold.

“Don’t worry,” Dagiri said. “That’s a fat leg she’s chewing on—even fatter than yours.”

Steve gulped and quickly took a seat across from Dagiri—his eyes never turning away from Nellie as he sat down.

“How did the meeting go?” Steve said.

“Not well. I’m having trouble convincing Director Kravis that it is in his best interest to cooperate. I will have to keep working on him; it would help if I had something on him. How are the hackers doing?”

“That’s why I’m here. They are doing reasonably well. They have taken control of various government systems and some smaller corporations. Unfortunately, the larger corporations have proven to be more elusive. They seem to employ much tighter security controls.”

“Who have they specifically targeted?” Dagiri said.

“They have been mostly concerned with the top three: Omega Research, Luna Interstellar, and Cyberwave. They believe they have hit an obstacle in the area of encryption and are requesting the addition of a specific member to help. They have someone in mind—calls himself ‘The Doc.’”

He handed Dagiri his data pad. Dagiri inspected the information.

“I’ve had him checked out,” Steve said. “He’s an ex-con who was just recently released. He was in for various cyber-terrorist acts. Apparently, he is very good.”

“Not good enough to avoid being caught.” Dagiri handed back the pad. “Recruit him anyway. Arrange a death, though. Clone him and dump the clone body in a river somewhere. I don’t want Enforcement looking for him.”

“Won’t be a problem,” Steve said.

“Good. Another thing, I want one of those top three corporations under our control. I need something to use as ammunition against Kravis. We are going to make our first steps up the corporate ladder, and we’re not going to make it by doing things the nice way. We need to be more ruthless than the rest of those corpers.”

“Understood,” Steve said.

“Steve, if we don’t get results from this bunch, start eliminating the least talented ones. There is still plenty of untapped talent in Thyle we could use as replacements.”

Steve looked a bit uneasy. “Well, yes, if it comes to that. I think it’s too early to start thinking that way; they are making good progress. It could take a lot of time to get anyone new up to speed.”

“I need tangible results,” Dagiri said. “I’m giving them a week. If they haven’t taken control of one of the top three’s systems, we start eliminating.”

“I think you underestimate the complexity of this, Jack. We need to be more patient; this can take time.”

“Steve, this is not up for discussion, so get out of here.” Dagiri motioned him away.

Steve rose and hurried out of the room, leaving Dagiri alone with Nellie.

If Steve did not get the desired results from the hackers, it would be bad for his future. Perhaps if Dagiri made him an Elation addict, he could be more productive. And if after becoming thoroughly addicted he was still useless, Dagiri could always feed him to Nellie. His portly flesh would make a fine meal for her, Dagiri mused as he looked in the direction of his pet.

Sighing, Dagiri rubbed his temples. He felt the sharp pains of a headache, and his muscles ached. Definitely time for his fix.

He reached into a drawer and pulled out his Elation gun. He pressed it again his neck and injected himself.

The rush of the Elation made everything feel right: the soreness in his muscles disappeared, as did the headache. The room spun for a brief moment and he felt bathed in an invisible aura. The aura went through him and mixed into his core. It seemed that his blood boiled and that time stood still for that moment. His skin felt as if it was made of armor and nothing could hurt him; his limbs felt light as a feather.

The initial rush left him, but the invigorating affect and effect were still there. His mind felt sharp and his resolve strengthened. Nothing would stand in the way of his destiny.

******

Elysium, the capital of Mars, stood as the hub of the Martian economy. The small city was a dense metropolis of buildings and interconnecting crosswalks. Hovercars darted across the cityscape carrying both tourists and businesspersons alike.

An atmospheric dome, the largest ever built, encased the city, protecting its inhabitants from the harsh elements outside. Above the dome, landing platform structures provided the docking facilities for trade transports. The platforms provided free docking facilities to any trade ships: a benefit that attracted many businesses and helped turn Elysium into the commercial hub of Mars.

The entire city comprised various levels that continued invisibly underground. Each level used an intricate web of crosswalks that lead to the varying building complexes. The lower levels just above ground were all corporation owned. The middle levels mainly consisted of shops catering to the tourists, while the higher levels were government buildings owned by the Martian Confederacy.

Despite the importance of the city, most tourists only remembered Elysium as simply the place you passed along the way to New Las Vegas. A public, underground tunnel system led all inhabitants into New Las Vegas, located several miles beneath the city and extending well beyond the area that encompassed the atmospheric dome above.

From one of the many crosswalks in Elysium, Reece stood overlooking the city with arms resting on the rail in front of him. A multitude of lights glittered across the many structures in his view. He looked down below, into the descending levels, and saw the constant motion of the city inhabitants. The crosswalks teemed with people, which from this distance looked like ants scurrying across a branch.

He elevated his gaze to the crisscrossing traffic of hovercars and public shuttles slashing across the cityscape. Allowing his gaze to follow one shuttle, Reece watched as it landed at one of the lower landing platforms. Out of the shuttle, the passengers walked out and into the building entrance. Each of them was wearing business attire; undoubtedly they were corporate employees of some sort. They would come here every day and night, being shuttled like cattle to their destination. The corporations would take them in, make them do their errands and then send them on home to partake in their brief moments of freedom.

Like the rest of his crew, Reece despised the idea of working for the corporations; he felt nauseated at the very idea of having to devote one’s life to do the bidding of a small group of fat cats who would not flinch at the notion of tossing you out the door like trash. He would never work for such a group.

Hopefully

he thought with a frown.

Ever since Reece and his pilots joined Julius’ pirate organization, he’d felt uneasy. The group did not even have a name; even Stromond’s group had a name, albeit a silly one: “The Stronghold.” But this new group had nothing

no name

and no real history that Reece knew of. It was as if they had never existed until he and the others had joined them; or perhaps they were good enough to avoid having a history—he would accept the latter.

Reece heard someone behind him. He turned to see Tash, Cronin, Taffy, Mac, and Eddie, the whole squadron, just standing there.

“Any luck?” Reece said.

“Maybe,” Tash said. “We think we recognized one of them at The Maximus.”

“All right,” Reece said, pushing himself off the railing. “Let’s go.”

The six pilots walked to the other end of the crosswalk, where they waited for the transit elevator to arrive. The elevator would descend into New Las Vegas. A small crowd stood waiting ahead of them.

A holographic image appeared above the elevator doors in front of the crowd. The image, along with an audio commentary, depicted how New Las Vegas was carved out of the Martian earth. A topographical map appeared, showing the barren landscape of the past before any construction; nothing was there, not even the grand city of Elysium. The hologram then showed the landing of the first transports and the unloading of machinery and men, who began tunneling into the ground. The hologram time-lapsed forward years at a time, showing the landscape morphing into the beginnings of what became the transit point to the first underground base at Mars. Many years later, as other parts of Mars began to grow, the underground base became New Las Vegas, and the land above the base became Elysium.

Reece turned away from the hologram impatiently. He soon heard the hum of the elevator approaching. The doors opened and the crowd began to pile in, Reece and his pilots among them. Inside, the elevator’s walls were made of transparent metal, giving the passengers a scenic route down into the underground city. Reece watched the crosswalks and shuttles of Elysium fade away above them as the elevator passed through the underground shaft.

Reece felt them move through darkness for a good minute before coming to an unexpected halt. He heard a mechanical sound outside, but the doors remained closed. After a moment, the elevator began to move again, appearing to descend further down.

“That’s normal,” Reece heard a passenger say. “The elevator had to move to a new shaft.”

The elevator dropped from the darkness of the underground shaft into the brightness of a huge chamber teeming with colorful lights. Reece had to squint for a second to take in the splendor of what was New Las Vegas.

The ground was covered with tightly packed buildings, each structure boasting its own glamorous lighting, along with holographic images advertising the facilities within: from gambling and lodging to more erotic services. A hologram depicting a starlit night sky painted the ceiling rock above: an illusion hiding the underbelly of Elysium.

The elevator approached what looked like the end of the shaft. Instead of slowing, the elevator shot out of the shaft and entered free fall. Some of the passengers gasped as they appeared to be ready to crash into the ground. However, an invisible force seemed to grab the elevator and slow it down— stopping in midair.

One of the passengers chuckled.

“They always get first-time visitors with that,” Reece heard him say. “The elevator has antigravity motors.”

The elevator carried them above numerous buildings, pausing by each to allow the passengers an opportunity to digest the advertisements they displayed— each trying to woo customers with the services available at each establishment.

After many passes, the elevator tour ended with it setting down near a major walkway at ground level. The doors opened and they exited into a pleasant temperature and breathable air. The other passengers went their separate ways, leaving the six pilots on their own, standing on the walkway together.

Reece looked around at the multitude of buildings and people, trying to digest it all. He turned to his pilots, catching Tash’s smirk.

“Never been here, eh?” Tash said.

Reece shook his head. “No. I mean, I’ve been to the one on Earth, but not this.”

“This one’s twice the size of Earth’s, and twice the fun,” Tash said.

“Only if you’ve the money, lad,” Mac said.

“Right,” Reece said. “Let’s get to The Maximus before our ‘brother’ decides to leave or blows all his money.”

The group followed Tash, who led them through the crowded walkways and crosswalks to The Maximus, one of the largest and perhaps most bizarre-looking casinos around, from what Reece could tell.

Styled after the ancient Roman architecture of Earth, the entryway of The Maximus featured great stone pillars and Greek statues adorning both sides. An ornate stone archway greeted the visitors at the entrance. A hologram covered the center of the archway, hiding the other side behind an illusory starfield. As people exited The Maximus, they appeared to be stepping out of the black curtain of stars.

Tash led the group through the illusion and onto the other side. Inside, Reece saw that The Maximus looked even more outrageous. The walls were made of polished, white stone, with intricately crafted pillars reaching up into the ceiling. The floors were a glistening white marble that reflected the lighting around them.

Farther ahead, Reece could see what was labeled the Coliseum, where it appeared that mock battles took place between holographic gladiators. On top of it all, holograms of Roman soldiers walked among the guests, brandishing authentic-looking weapons and armor.

Along the walls, Reece saw the only visible sign of modern technology: evenly-spaced terminals with controls to give spectators the ability to zoom in and around the battles in the arena from any perspective. From here, they could pick their champion, make their bets, and watch the blood sport action.

Reece could see a mob of gamblers betting on one of the battles. He slowed down to look at the holographic relay of the battle. The gladiators’ chests bore the logos of the UEP and Confed. They slashed and lunged with their blades, sending droplets of blood and sweat onto the sand under their feet. The sound of steel against steel reverberated against the backdrop of the audience’s cheering for the illusory blood sport.

One of the gladiators tackled the other, pushing him against the arena wall, close to a group of seated onlookers. Taking advantage of his position, he bashed his shield against the other’s weapon, flinging it to the ground, then raised his sword and slashed diagonally across his foe’s belly—slicing through the UEP logo. An exaggerated eruption of blood and entrails shot out of the foe and covered the Confed gladiator.

The victor then gripped his sword with both hands and slashed across his opponent’s neck, decapitating his foe. As the crowd cheered, the gladiator knelt down to pick up the imaginary head and flung it toward the seats. Before landing onto the crowd, it exploded in midair—leaving the logo of the Martian Confederacy hovering in the air. A dealer walked into the casino proper and then delivered credits to the winning gamblers.

Reece turned away from the matches and lead the pilots across the marble floors to the other side of the casino, following the round passage of the outer section. They reached an opening that led out into the arena seating. Reece estimated about twenty thousand seats, with most of them filled. Tash tapped Reece on the shoulder and pointed to an area of seats where a lone patron sat.

The pilots sat themselves around their target, Reece sitting the closest to him. The man briefly glanced at the pilots and then gave a derisive snort.

“Hello, recruits,” he said.

Reece looked at Tash, but he just shrugged in return.

“How do you know who we are?” Reece asked.

“I know a lot of things,” the pirate said. “I know that you’re probably looking for one of us because you’ve pissed all your money away.”

“You have us at a bit of a disadvantage,” Reece said. “Since you know who we are, what’s your name?”

“Recker,” he said. “Just call me Recker. I’m an engineer, and I work under Murdock. And besides you guys, I’m the only one who hasn’t left yet.”

“Left?” Reece said. “Already? Where’d they go?”

Recker snorted again.

“You don’t know shit about this boat do you?” Recker said. “The crew has a habit of pissing their credits away. Bad bets, lady action, drinking

it’s pretty inevitable really. They’re cooped up on a ship for months, earning credits they can’t spend— and the minute they put down at a pleasure port, what do you think happens?”

“They piss it away

” Tash said.

“Yeah, just like you guys,” Recker said. “I think the Captain and his queen probably do it on purpose—keeps the crew from deserting altogether—gott’a have money to live after all. Does that sound like a predicament you can relate to?”

“Err, yeah

” Reece said.

“Yeah well maybe for you and your bunch—but not me. I’m on a lucky streak and I’ll be leaving this cave with more credits than what I came in with. As usual.”

Reece cleared his throat.

“Well, brother,” Reece said, “maybe you can help us and share a little of your good fortune? We’ll pay you back once we get our first payday

”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to worry about paying me back in credits.”

“Oh,” Reece said with a small smile. “That’s mighty nice of you, brother. We really appreciate that.”

Recker snorted. “Enough with the ‘brother’ shit—you haven’t earned it. And I’m not giving you anything for free; there is a price.”

“Fine, then. Let’s cut the bullshit. What do you want?” Reece said.

Recker turned away from the fighting below just as a gladiator went down; he looked deliberately at each of the pilots.

“I can pay you 500 credits a piece,” Recker said. “But you have to do a job for me. It’s a job I’m supposed to do for one of the bosses. It will be risky, but I think you rookies can handle it. Interested?”

“Rookies?” Tash growled.

Reece put his hand up to silence Tash.

“Fine,” Reece said. “What’s the job?”

CHAPTER 7: DODGING SHADOWS

Link: Character Encyclopedia

Julius had cramped quarters compared to Laina’s. The room comprised a bed, a small desk with a holographic projector, a bookshelf, and a bathroom.

The dark color scheme mirrored the same shades of gray and blue of the ship’s corridors. Pictures of military vessels painted the empty spaces of the sparsely decorated walls. One wall showcased a collection of weapons, ranging from swords and knives to flicker rifles and pistols. Ship models decorated the shelf space, the centerpiece being a small-scale version of the Sea Wolf.

Julius walked to the end of the room where the bookshelf stood. Military books filled most levels of the bookshelf, except for the mid-level one, which had no books on it. Instead, it displayed a glass case filled with medals. Engraved on the medals were holographic insignias, some from the old UEP Navy, while others were honorary designations from his days of assisting the Martian Colonial Military against the A.I.

Julius glanced at the medals, grimacing that he’d even wasted his time to stop and look at them. If it hadn’t been for his dream, he’d have walked past them like he usually did.

“Old rewards for deeds long forgotten,” he whispered to them.

On the few occasions he even glanced at the medals, he had thought to just throw them away. Nobody remembered what he did to earn them; sometimes even he forgot. Nevertheless, on each occasion he fought the urge and kept them. He justified the need to keep them as decorations for his room; just as Laina had her artwork, Julius needed his medals.

He did not want to admit it to himself the real reason, and certainly not to Laina. The truth was simple: the medals remained his last tangible link to a time when he had a purpose. Perhaps, he felt, by keeping them, it kept that link and purpose alive

somehow.

Sighing, Julius felt a little guilty. He had chastised Laina for wanting to seek a purpose of her own; yet here he was, clinging to the same need. At least he had found a purpose once; Laina was still searching for hers.

Together, it seemed they were both lost in this underworld they had created, piling actions and plans on top of one another, hoping they would one day converge into a logical purpose.

Yet, throughout the years of piracy they had endured, they had found nothing in the riches. Sure, they experienced brief bursts of adrenaline as they narrowly escape an encounter, or felt the excitement of opening up a cargo container to find an unexpected treasure—brief moments of pleasure, but all without purpose. Julius had to wonder, perhaps, that maybe his heart was not in it anymore, either.

Turning away from the medals, Julius walked to his desk and sat down. He pushed away the somber thoughts. He had work to do, after all.

He activated the holographic projector. The hologram showed a potential list of target shipments. Laina had furnished him the list from one of her many contacts.

Glancing over a dozen possible targets, along with their delivery routes, Julius narrowed down the list to three, eliminating those that would be flying well-trafficked space routes. Of the three, he only knew the cargo from one of the ships; the other two were unknown. The known cargo was a shipment of refined ores: platinum and gold mainly. They would not be as easy to sell off as other typical cargo hits, but at least he knew it was worth something.

He keyed into the computer a command to bring up a new image. The hologram showed a still image of their most recent encounter with UEP Enforcement. The visual showed miniature versions of the Sea Wolf, along with the target convoy. A small set of icons depicted Wolf Squadron.

Julius hit the play button and the holographic ships began to move.

The convoy came out of warp just outside Earth’s gravity field. The gravity forced the ships to drop to regular propulsion. The convoy consisted of three cargo ships, each bearing Martian Confederacy markings.

The Sea Wolf waited close by, hidden in the field of its stealth shroud, watching the convoy pass. At that moment, Wolf Squadron came out of warp on top of the convoy and began its attack. Using precision strafing runs, Wolf Squadron damaged their propulsion and defensive systems, while the Sea Wolf jammed all communications from the convoy, blocking its distress call.

Wolf Squadron stopped firing and began to circle the wounded prey, while the Sea Wolf made a wave connection to the onboard computers of the cargo ships. Then, the Sea Wolf’s hacker—Jared—began breaking into their computers to force the cargo ships to dump their cargo. If all went according to plan, the cargo would drop, and the cargo ships would have hurried off while the Sea Wolf scooped up the goods.

Julius frowned as the recorder showed a flashing icon next to the miniature capital ship, indicating loss of power on the Sea Wolf.

The image of the Sea Wolf became solid as it came out of its stealth shroud. At this point, the communication channels opened up and the convoy’s distress call made it out. Wolf Squadron tried in vain to silence the convoy with some targeted attacks against their communication array, but the call had already gone out.

Julius remembered waiting, like a sitting duck, for the crew to get the reactor back online, hoping that UEP Enforcement did not get the signal. He knew his hopes were shattered when three Enforcement destroyers made their appearance.

Julius watched the replay of his fighter pilots being picked off by the destroyers’ accelerated proton cannons and missile fire. He could see the Sea Wolf begin to move as it regained power. Julius ordered a retreat and warped the ship away. What was left of Wolf Squadron escaped along with her.

The computer beeped and displayed “End of Recording” over the hologram. Julius mulled over the replay of the battle. He realized that the unexpected power loss was the key factor in the outcome. Nevertheless, he felt it would be unwise to dismiss it as the only factor and not learn from it; something could have been done to improve the outcome.

Julius’ ear-link chimed—he would need to mull this over later. A hologram appeared from his ear-link—it was not 2230 ship time. The last of the shuttles should be returning from Deimos-1 now. He turned off the holographic projector and headed out of his quarters.

He walked down the hallway, passing Laina’s quarters along the way to the elevator. He briefly wondered if Laina would be awake. She said she wanted to go to New Las Vegas, but he didn’t remember seeing her name on the list of departing crew. In all likelihood, she was probably passed out from drink.

Julius stepped into the elevator and rode it to the bridge. He could hear a creak from somewhere in the elevator as it moved. He shifted his weight to his other foot and could hear the creak again. The noise was coming from the flooring. With the endless list of things to fix on the ship, he would have to live with the noise.

The elevator doors opened to reveal the bridge. He stepped onto it and made his way ahead to his command module.

The bridge was a sphere-shaped chamber about thirty meters in diameter. The flooring, walls, and ceiling were made of non-reflective transparent metal. Beyond the clear steel was a holographic projection revealing the ship’s surroundings. No instrumentation was on the walls of the bridge; instead, various seating modules were in the center for each officer. The bridge had a total of seven seating modules: navigation, ship combat, tactical operations, wave warfare, sub-command, and command, plus an extra auxiliary module. Each module had a chair equipped with holographic instrumentation and antigravity motors—to allow for free roaming within the chamber.

Julius sat in his command module, taking note that all of the bridge crew were present—except Laina, of course. Garval was the Tactical Operations Officer. Any operations dealing with the fighter squadron or shuttles fell under him.

Jessen was the Navigation Officer, and a former science explorer for the Martian Confederacy. He was the one who originally turned Julius onto the asteroid field anomaly that they now used as their base.

Jared was the Wave Warfare Officer, which meant he was their onboard hacker. He had been involved in various high-profile computer breakins back in the early days after the A.I. War. He had narrowly avoided capture by the UEP before joining the crew.

Finally, there was Ramey, their Ship Combat Officer. He was probably the most quiet and private person on the ship; he ate alone and rarely talked with any of the crew, even Julius. Nevertheless, his experience with the UES Sea Wolf class capital ships was unsurpassed. He had served with Julius in the early part of the A.I. War, also as a combat officer.

“Garval, status report,” Julius said.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

The forward section of the bridge lit up with information that overlaid the view of the asteroid field outside.

“Most of the personnel have either returned or have checked in and are en route,” he continued. “However, we have six missing that haven’t checked in.”

Julius read the information. “The new recruits.”

“Aye, sir.”

Julius could detect the hint of a smirk on Garval’s face.

“Is there something more I should know about, Lieutenant?” Julius asked.

The smirk disappeared. “No, Captain.”

“Very well,” Julius said. “Send a bulletin to each of the returning crew asking for information on the whereabouts of the six.”

“Yes, sir,” Garval said.

“Jared,” Julius said, “tap into the Martian waves. Maybe if they were arrested, we can get the details.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jared said.

Julius knew the pilots could be trouble, but he did not think they would do something careless enough to be arrested. Nevertheless, if caught, they could be made to talk. Not to mention, they were good pilots.

The smirk on Garval’s face made him wonder if the crew was up to something. It would not have been the first time that they tested the mettle of new recruits. Undoubtedly, other factors could be at work, such as the fear that the individual salaries would drop with more crew.

“Sir, I have something,” Jared said.

“Go on,” Julius said.

“It’s an encrypted transmission from Reece. He says that he and the other pilots are on a stolen shuttle and are trying to evade Martian Civic Guardians. They are trying to make it out of Mars’ gravity well so they can make the jump out. They say they don’t need any help.”

“Of course they don’t need our help,” Julius said. “Jessen, plot a jump course to Mars, adjacent to Deimos-1. Keep us distant from any gravity wells; we’ll be going in under stealth shroud. Ready for stellar jump.”

******

The Martian sky was a light rust color and thick with orange clouds. Three small ships, bearing Martian Confederacy markings, chased their tail into the cloud cover. Flashes of light reflected across the clouds around them as the pursuing ships fired their weapons.

Beams of accelerated protons streaked above the escaping ship, igniting the dorsal portion of its shields, reacting against it and producing a colorful array of electrical charges followed by a small, fiery explosion. The escaping ship stopped its climb and dove down, avoiding a second volley of protons fired at it.

“You sure picked a nice piece of shit to fly, Reece,” Tash said. “No weapons, and an active transponder we can’t shut off.”

“Shut up, Tash. He’s concentrating on flying,” Eddie said.

Reece sat in the pilot’s chair of the small shuttle, trying to climb out of Mars’ atmosphere and at the same time trying to avoid the volley of fire coming from the Martian security forces.

“Maybe if we divert some power, you can move out of range of their cannons,” Tash said.

“Aye, we could,” Mac said. “But then you’d be in range of their missiles, and those, laddy, we can’t dodge.”

The ship suddenly shook hard, causing the pilots to nearly lose their balance.

“What the hell was that?” Tash said.

“Looks like we got another ship chasing us,” Cronin said from the copilot seat. “I think he’s trying to get a tow beam on us.”

“I’m trying to shake it,” Reece said through gritted teeth.

The ship shook again hard as the tow beam tried to lock on. Flashes lit up the cockpit from cannon fire shooting ahead of their position.

“They’re trying to keep us from dodging the tow,” Cronin said. “They must want us alive; they could have killed us by now.”

“Aye, probably the trinket we’re carrying,” Mac said.

“What kind of range do you think that tow has, Cronin?” Reece said.

Cronin typed on a computer console before answering. “Too long a range. If you try to get too far, they’ll be in range to shoot their missiles.”

“But you said they want us alive, so they won’t shoot us, will they?” Tash asked.

“They might have EMP missiles,” Taffy said. “They could cripple us and take us alive.”

“Not happening,” Reece said. “Cronin, divert all available power to the engines, take some off the shields if you have to.”

“What’re you going to do?” Tash asked.

“I have an idea,” Reece said.

In a sudden burst of speed, Reece accelerated ahead of the pursuing ships. The security ships tried to match their velocity, but the distance gap between them slowly grew.

“We’re outrunning them,” Cronin said. “But the tow beam is still trying to lock.”

“How much time before they can fire missiles?” Reece said.

Cronin looked at his computer display. “Twelve seconds.”

Light from cannon fire flashed ahead of them, but the shots were well off target as they were beyond effective range. After a moment, the shots stopped.

“They’re firing missiles,” Cronin said.

“Good,” Reece said. “Cronin, all power to engines. Turn off shields.”

“No shields?” Tash said, voice rising.

The missiles from the pursuers streaked ahead toward the stolen ship. Their silver-tipped warheads pierced the clouds and raced ahead with a single-minded purpose. The rogue ship suddenly made a dive, doing a reverse loop. The missiles matched their move and continued to close in. The rogue ship finished its loop and shot itself toward the pursuing ships.

“Which one has the tow?” Reece said.

“Middle one,” Cronin said.

The rogue ship, with missiles close behind, climbed into the belly of the ship formation. The three ships tried to maneuver away, but the momentum was too great. As the stolen ship got close, it jerked straight down and turned its engines off. The missiles, forced by their own momentum and the force of the tow beam, collided with the middle ship. A white flash of light encased the three security ships and all three began to fall.

The rogue ship’s engines turned back on in freefall and came out of its dive, climbing for the Martian sky.

“Nice one,” Cronin said.

“What happened?” Tash asked.

“He used their tow beam against them,” Eddie said. “By heading toward them, and turning off his engines, he confused the missiles; at the same time, the tow beam pulled the missiles toward the middle ship before the missiles could reacquire their lock on us.”

“Did they live?” Reece asked Cronin, his voice quiet.

“I see ejection signatures,” Cronin said. “I think they made it.”

“Who cares? We made it,” Tash said.

The ship carrying the rogue pilots left the Martian atmosphere and emerged into space. Deimos-1 was visible, orbiting the red planet, as was a small fleet of ships that moved quickly to intercept the rogue ship as it came out. Three of the ships were capital ships; the other five were smaller scout craft.

The capital ships were of a relatively flat, wing-shaped design with various weapon emplacements along the wing. Their underbellies bulged out where the main hull housed their crew. The scout craft were essentially miniature versions of the capital ships, with only a single missile and cannon emplacement for weapons.

“Those are Martian Civic Guardians,” Eddie said from the cockpit.

“Yes,” Cronin said. “Three destroyers and five scouts.”

There was a chime from Cronin’s station. “They’re asking for our surrender.”

“They’d have blown us up by now if it wasn’t for the cargo,” Taffy said.

“They’re surrounding us,” Cronin said. “Two destroyers in the front, one in the aft with the scouts covering the other escape routes.”

“I’m stopping,” Reece said, his voice thick with anger.

“Maybe we can negotiate with the trinket we carry,” Tash said.

“They never negotiate,” Eddie said. “I can tell you that from experience.”

“Well,” Mac said. “I guess we’ve had it, lads.”

******

Julius looked at the spectacle with some amusement. The Sea Wolf’s sensors could see the small battle that took place under the clouds; the pilots had fared well. Now they faced impossible odds, yet they did not signal their surrender. Perhaps there was some true mettle in them.

“Jared, sensor report,” Julius said.

“Yes, sir. Along with the recruit ship, there are eight Martian Civic Guardian contacts within active sensor range. I show no other active contacts on the scope. Nothing in the stealth shroud either.”

Julius could hear the sound of the bridge doors opening; he turned his command module around to see Laina walk in. She was wearing her usual business attire: clothing that pretty much hid every inch of her skin save for her hands and face. Her face looked drawn and tired. She stumbled into her sub-command chair.

Julius turned his command module back around.

“You look tired,” Julius said.

“A bit too much drink is all,” Laina said, rubbing her forehead. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

“Martian space,” Julius said. “Our recruits have managed to get themselves into trouble; they nearly got away but were blocked off by those Martian Civs.”

“Oh, really?” Laina said. “What did they do—rape another innocent woman?”

“I don’t know,” Julius said, turning his module to look deliberately at Laina. “I was hoping you might know something.”

“Me?” Laina said.

“Sir,” Ramey interrupted. “One of the scouts is closing in on them, looks to be positioning itself to board them.”

“Are we going to help them?” Laina said.

Without answering, Julius moved his command module up toward the holographic images of the ships.

There were three destroyers and five scout class ships. The scouts were maneuverable but not heavily armed. They could not survive a prolonged engagement and were meant to be used for minor skirmishes. The destroyers were a different matter; in a one-on-one battle the Sea Wolf could outmatch them—but three at once

.

Julius turned his eyes to the small ship the recruits had stolen and began to assess its capabilities. The tactical showed it to be an unarmed transport—it was not an asset he could use militarily. Nevertheless, they had surprise on their side and the fact that the transport appeared to be carrying something of value—the Confed would be unwilling to do anything that could destroy it.

Satisfied with his examination, he returned his module to its home position.

“Yes,” Julius finally answered to Laina. “Ramey—go to battle alert.”

The lighting on the bridge darkened and tactical information appeared all around them. Holographic displays appeared depicting shield and weapon status, damage control, and life status for the crew members. The sound of battle drums echoed throughout the ship—Julius had replaced the original siren sound long ago.

“Shields and weapons are ready,” Ramey said.

“Stealth integrity and engines fully functional,” Jessen said.

“Ramey, what’s your guess on the strength of the recruit ship’s hull?” Julius said.

Ramey glanced down at his station then looked up at the holographic image of the recruit ship. “It’s an interplanetary cargo transport, about average hull strength. What did you have in mind, sir?”

“A high-speed slingshot maneuver,” Julius said.

Ramey keyed information into his instruments then thought for a moment.

“The computer says there’s a fair chance it would get torn to pieces.”

“What does your gut say, Lieutenant?”

“They

might make it, sir,” he said.

“I agree. Jessen, take us as close to the recruit ship as possible while keeping us at the edge of the gravity well of Mars.”

“Aye, sir,” Jessen said.

The view around the bridge began to change as the Sea Wolf closed in. As they got close, target reticles appeared over each Martian ship with lettered designations from “A” to “H.”

“Sir, what about fighters?” Garval asked.

It was a good question. He did not have too many pilots on board, and the best ones were stuck in the predicament Julius now tried to solve. Julius hated having Murdock lead the small squadron they did have when he should be handling engineering.

“We’ll make do without them,” Julius said. “We don’t have the pilots to spare.”

“Captain, I can lead what we have,” Garval said. “There’s not much for me to do here otherwise.”

He was right of course. The logical decision was to have Garval lead the squadron and at least create a diversion while the recruits were rescued. The real reason Julius did not want him to go was for fear of losing a good officer, but he could not tell him that.

“Very well, Garval,” he said. “Saddle up.”

“Yes, sir!” Garval said, unable to contain his excitement.

He left his module and headed for the elevator.

“Nothing fancy, Garval,” Julius said.

“Of course, sir,” Garval said as the elevator doors shut.

Julius keyed a command in his module to transfer the tactical operations module functions to his module. A display lit up at his module showing Wolf Squadron in the launch bay. There were only five of them with Garval and most of them were average pilots, but their speed and maneuverability would give them the edge.

“We are in position now, sir,” Jessen said.

“Good. Ramey, do you think they would notice Wolf Squadron sneaking out of the bays?”

“Don’t think so sir,” Ramey said. “Their scans are directed at the recruits’ ship.”

Julius activated his link. “Garval, sneak the squadron out slowly. Position yourselves within striking distance of the scouts. Await further orders once in position.”

“Yes, sir,” Garval said.

“That scout is beginning docking procedures,” Ramey said.

Julius mulled over the situation. The odds were against him, but he still had surprise. Not to mention, most of these Martian Civic Guardians had no space combat experience. There were no other forces in the immediate area. They had more than enough to handle one lone rogue ship, yes, but they would likely call for backup if they saw the Sea Wolf. Julius knew he had some advantages, but he needed to keep them.

“Jared, how good can you jam the communications of all eight ships?” Julius said.

“Hmmm, never tried that many at a time,” Jared said. “But I think I can do it.”

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jared said.

“Jessen, on my command, I want you to swoop us in there and activate a tow beam on the recruit’s ship. Once locked, with all power to engines, take us out of the gravity well as quickly as possible.”

Julius looked at his station display; he could see Wolf Squadron was now in position and undetected. He looked over to Jared, who appeared engrossed in working his station.

“Status, Jared?” Julius said.

“Almost,” Jared said. “I’ve localized their carrier waves and am readying a jamming package to disrupt them. Only thing is, they will effectively disappear from the screens of Mars Traffic Control and Civic Guardian command. That will likely cause some alarm, but not as bad as if they made a call for help.”

“It will do,” Julius said.

As Jared continued to work, Julius waited. There were always standby forces in the system that could jump in within minutes of a distress call. Jamming the communications was always a critical component of their attack plans.

“Jamming package ready, sir,” Jared said.

“Execute,” Julius said.

******

The six pilots looked defeated. Tash paced back and forth from the cabin to the end of the main room. Mac casually lit up a cigar he was carrying and began puffing away at it.

“Got any more of those?” Taffy said, hopeful.

Mac smiled. “Sorry, lad. Last one.”

“What I wouldn’t give to be in my fighter right now,” Taffy said. “Can’t believe we can’t even die fighting them honorably.”

“Maybe we’ll get off easy,” Cronin muttered. “Maybe they’ll only be able to match us to our fake IDs. We might get off easy because it’s a first offense on those.”

“Those IDs won’t hold up to scrutiny,” Eddie said. “They’re going to match us to our real records. Then it will be a matter of who wants us the most: the UEP or the Martian Confederacy. We might actually get extradited.”

“Nice to be so wanted,” Mac said.

From the cabin display, they could see one of the scouts approaching them.

“I think they’re going to board us,” Cronin said.

“Can’t be too many in that ship,” Reece mused, rubbing his chin. “Eddie, any idea how many would be in that scout?”

“If my memory is right, about four crew max,” Eddie said.

“Four fat, undertrained, lethargic, donut-chugging cops?” Taffy said, cracking his knuckles. “We can take them.”

“Everyone armed?” Reece said.

They all pulled out their flicker pistols.

“All right,” Reece said. “Eddie, how will they likely come in?”

“They’ll force open the airlock, and drop in nerve gas first. Then they’ll wait a bit and come in with rifles when they’re sure we’re knocked out.”

“How unsporting,” Taffy said.

“Nerve gas. Great,” Tash said.

Suddenly, a flash of light from outside lit up the cabin. They all peered out the forward display to see a stream of cannon fire shooting above and past them in multiple directions.

Reece rotated the view on the display. He followed the outline of Z-33 fighters firing on the approaching enemy scout, sending it into retreat. Before the other enemy ships could compose themselves, the fighter squadron circled around and made a vector to the nearest destroyer, firing cannons and missiles at it. Small explosions blazed across the destroyer as the fighters blitzed across its hull. Reece tried to identify their markings, but they were moving too fast.

“What’s happening?” Taffy said.

“It seems we have some additional company,” Reece said. “Cronin, do you think we could take advantage and try making a run for it?”

“No. The other two destroyers are on point, and the scouts are still around us. They could easily blow us away if we tried.”

Reece looked back out at the melee. The destroyer began to lash out with its cannon fire at the fighters. He could not see any signs of damage on the destroyer; it seemed the fighters could not penetrate the shields of the large ship. The other two destroyers did not budge from their positions, nor did the scouts, indicating they did not take the fighter threat too seriously.

“There must be something we can do,” Reece mused.

“If this damn thing had any weapons, we might be able to get away,” Tash grumbled.

There was a sudden chime at Cronin’s station. He typed in a few commands and looked at the display with a visibly dumbfounded expression.

Reece looked at him. “What is it?”

“A message, but I don’t know from who. It doesn’t make any sense,” Cronin said.

“Well, what’s it say?” Reece said.

“It says: ‘get ready for a ride,’” he said.

At that moment, the ship shook violently, enough to knock those who were standing onto the floor. The lights in the cabin dimmed and Reece could hear the sound of the hull creaking from the sudden strain. Reece managed a look up at the cockpit display, only to see all hell break loose.

CHAPTER 8: ANCIENT RELIC

“What was I before the war? It’s hard to remember that far back. But I think maybe I was human.”

General Hugo Valdez, UEP Planetary Infantry Corps, December 2073

“Jamming package activated,” Jared said.

“Squadron in position, sir,” Garval’s voice came on the link.

“Good,” Julius said. “Garval, engage the scouts.”

Julius followed the tactical marker that showed the position of the squadron on the screen. As the squadron exited the shroud, the marker changed color to indicate they were now in play. The fighters made a high-speed strafe against the Martian scout that was approaching the recruit ship, causing it to abort its docking maneuver and retreat.

Wolf Squadron then broke away into random directions, gracefully regrouping as it made a follow-up attack against the nearest destroyer. The accelerated protons and missiles fired in unison from the five fighters, striking the enemy ship.

Unfortunately, the fighters’ munitions would not be powerful enough to penetrate the destroyer’s shielding—it would be nothing more than a diversion. As if hearing his thoughts, Wolf Squadron broke away from the destroyer and refocused its attack on the remaining scout ships.

“Take us out of the shroud,” Julius ordered. “Flank speed toward the friendly.”

“Aye, Captain,” Jessen said.

On the main viewscreen, Julius could see the image of the recruit transport pass below them as they passed over it. Behind them, he could see the three destroyers hang in the distance. But as expected, they made no move to assist the scouts. Their weapons were simply too powerful to use against the fighters without accidentally destroying whatever cargo the transport ship carried. The remaining scouts were only now beginning to compose themselves for a counterattack against Wolf Squadron.

“I have the transport in tow!” Jessen said.

“Good,” Julius said. “Adjust course toward the lead destroyer. Take us over her, no more than a kilometer distance.”

Jessen hesitated. “With the ship in tow, sir?”

“Carry out my orders, Jessen.”

“Aye, sir,” Jessen said with a sigh.

“Target A is firing,” Ramey said. “I show incoming missiles and cannons.”

On the screen, Julius could see the Martian destroyer sending out its ordinance toward them as they closed in.

“What missile types?” Julius said.

“Type FF-4s, sir. Remote guidance and control,” Ramey said.

“Rotate shields full forward, launch countermeasures. Bore through it, Jessen,” Julius said.

“Aye, sir,” Jessen said, his voice sounding tense.

The cannon fire came first, filling the forward view of the bridge. Blue energy beams streamed up in every direction, crisscrossing the space ahead as the Sea Wolf raced over the destroyer’s ventral hull.

The cannon fire struck the Sea Wolf’s shields, causing a cacophony of colorful explosions. The bridge shook from the impact, causing all the modules to automatically levitate farther off the floors to avoid the vibration.

“Keep us close to her, Jessen,” Julius commanded.

Julius saw what was coming next: the outline of six missiles rising up from the destroyer’s launch ports. Targeting indicators appeared over the missiles. They flashed in red, outlining the missiles as they came into view.

“Six warheads, impact—now!” Ramey said.

There was a rumble and a flash. The viewscreen dimmed for a moment, and the sound of an explosion sounded off inside the bridge. Pieces of shrapnel flew from Julius’ right; he reflexively turned his head and tried to shield himself, but a piece scraped his cheek. Somewhere behind him he heard one of the crew swear.

“Are you okay?” Laina asked.

“Yes,” Julius said, touching his cheek and feeling the blood on his fingers. “It’s superficial. Damage report?”

“Superficial as well, sir,” Jessen said. “Minor internal systems damaged, all re-routed to backups. Shields holding at 80 percent. No hull damage.”

“Redistribute shield rotation evenly,” Julius said.

The view of the lead destroyer shrank as the Sea Wolf now sped away from it. Seemingly caught off guard, all three destroyers hesitated before they began to give chase.

“We’re clear of the gravity well,” Jessen said. “But we can’t make a stellar jump while towing the recruit ship.”

“How is the friendly holding up, Ramey?” Julius said.

“I show some damage, but it’s holding together.”

“Good. Keep firing on those destroyers to keep them at bay. Jessen, keep our course steady at flank speed.” Julius tapped a key on his module. “Garval, disengage the destroyer and engage the scouts.”

“Aye, sir,” Garval’s voice came back.

Julius rotated his command module around to face the rear. The three destroyers were forming up into a wedge formation. The enemy scouts formed up also, and with their greater speed, pursued ahead of the destroyers.

Wolf Squadron appeared out of their flank, unloading a volley of cannon fire at the scouts. The accelerated protons flew in the face of the scouts, half of it striking them. The scouts were slow to react and were quickly surrounded by the smaller, more agile fighters before they had a chance to return fire.

Small explosions flashed within the dense swarm of fighters, signaling the start of the dogfight between Wolf Squadron and the Guardian scouts. As Julius anticipated, the battle between the small ships forced the enemy destroyers to slow down their own pursuit.

“I’ve almost got the recruits’ ship pulled into the cargo hold,” Jessen reported.

“Good,” Julius said. “Get ready to warp us out of here as soon as they’re inside.”

“Sir!” Jared said. “I’m receiving word from one of the recruits—Reece. He said that we can’t keep the ship in the hold; it has a transponder that the Martian Guardians are using to track it.”

“I see,” Julius said. “Get the ship into the hold as quickly as possible. Then eject it once the recruits are out of it.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

Julius looked back at the ships behind them. Wolf Squadron was still fairing well, and had not taken any losses. Their maneuverability would give them an edge over the larger scouts; however, the Guardian scouts had stronger weaponry and shields, so it was a matter of time before one of the fighters took a fatal hit.

The destroyers were steering clear of the dogfight by diving under the melee. He could order Wolf Squadron to lure the dogfight toward the destroyers, slowing them down further, but it would make the fight more difficult for them, and certainly incur losses. He watched as the destroyers cleared the dogfight and headed toward their position.

“Incoming fire,” Ramey said.

Julius watched the new targeting reticles appear, tracking a new volley of missiles from the three destroyers. He counted twenty missiles.

“Target missiles,” Julius said. “Divert energy to rear shields to compensate.”

“Aye, sir,” Ramey said.

Julius knew there were too many missiles to destroy before impact, especially from the rear where they had fewer cannons.

“Jessen, need more speed,” he said.

“Pushing it 10 percent over the line already, sir.”

“Push it to 15,” Julius said.

“Captain,” Jared interjected. “If we get too far ahead of them, I won’t be able to continue jamming their communications.”

“I know,” Julius said. “Do your best. Let me know when their signals slip through.”

“Aye,” Jared said.

“Sir, I’m not sure I will be able to hold onto the recruit ship if we get hit again,” Jessen said.

“Understood,” Julius said. “Try to keep them out of harm’s way at least.”

The outline of the missiles became sharper as they closed in. Their speed would not allow them to outrun the missiles, but it would allow them to target more of them before impact.

“Entering firing range now,” Ramey said.

“Fire at will,” Julius said.

A pair of bright beams of energy flashed behind them, streaming toward the missiles. Two of the missiles exploded from the impact. More cannon fire flashed out, striking another pair of missiles. Ramey frantically operated the weapons control, targeting missile after missile without stopping to look at the explosions.

Julius counted a total of sixteen explosions before a pair managed to slip through and strike the Sea Wolf. The bridge shook hard as each missile struck. Ramey managed to destroy one more missile in between explosions, but another managed to hit them. The ship shook again hard.

Julius glanced at the shield indicators and damage status holograms; the shields buckled for a moment but held at 80 percent capacity, and one of the rear cannons was damaged. Fortunately, there was no other damage and no causalities listed. Out of the twenty missiles fired at them, only three struck. Julius would have to commend Ramey later for such a good job.

“I’ve lost our lock on the recruit ship,” Jessen said.

Julius watched the small ship drift swiftly away behind them aimlessly. Their position put them in between any path of fire from the destroyers.

“Turn us around, Jessen. We need to get a lock them.”

“I’ll try, sir, but we’re going too fast,” Jessen said.

The Sea Wolf’s bridge appeared to vibrate hard from the stress of the sudden change in direction and speed. Julius turned his module around. His view shifted to their rear and he could see enemy fire lancing out toward the recruit ship. An alarm sounded from Jessen and Ramey’s modules.

“What is it?” Julius said.

“The port engine is overheating,” Jessen said. “The computer is going to shut it down.”

“Override it, Jessen.”

“I don’t know how much longer before it blows, sir,” Jessen said, his voice strained.

“Well, then, perhaps we’ll find out,” Julius said. “Override computer safety protocols and maintain speed. We’re going to grab the recruit ship.”

“Yes, sir,” Jessen said.

Julius watched as they closed in on the recruit ship. He turned his module around to observe the destroyers. Oddly, they continued their pursuit yet but did not fire.

“Ramey, are they readying another volley?”

Ramey shook his head. “No, sir. Their firing ports are still empty.”

“I have them, sir,” Jessen said. “I have the recruit ship in tow.”

“Good. Turn us around slowly, flank speed. Pull them into the cargo bay quickly.”

The Sea Wolf took a wide turn as it reversed its direction, towing the recruit ship behind it. Julius looked at the destroyers, but they still did not appear to be firing.

“They’re inside, sir,” Jessen reported after a moment.

“Good. Maintain course. Drop speed down to full.”

Julius could hear the sigh of relief come from Jessen at that order. Julius opened a channel to Garval.

“Garval, good job. Now get your people out of here. We’ll meet you at home base shortly.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Garval said.

“Yes, now go.”

“Aye, sir,” Garval said.

Julius watched the squadron systematically disengage the scouts and make a run for it. The scouts did not even try to stop them as the fighters jumped out.

“Are the recruits out of the ship yet?” Julius said.

“No, sir,” Jared said. “There seems to be a problem trying to get the cargo out of the ship.”

“Cargo? What cargo?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Jared said, shaking his head confused. “They say it’s important. But too heavy to move quickly.”

“I don’t care what they’re carrying, tell them to get the hell out, or we’ll eject the ship with them inside.”

“Wait,” Laina said. “We don’t want to lose the cargo.”

Julius turned his module to face Laina. “You know what this is about, then?”

“Uh

possibly,” Laina said.

“Is it worth a lot?” Julius said.

“Well

” Laina hesitated. “Yes

yes it is.”

“Sir,” Jared interrupted. “I can’t block them anymore; their communications are slipping through.”

Julius knew that the Martian Civic Guardians would likely call in for reinforcements at this point. The Guardians had probably not engaged a capital ship since the war. Julius sighed inwardly. He knew the attention they had garnered today would hurt them later.

“Jared, recruit ship status?” Julius asked.

“Nothing yet, sir,” Jared said. “They’re still trying to get the cargo out. Murdock is down there helping them.”

Julius opened a channel directly to Murdock. “Murdock, what is the delay?”

“It’s heavy,” Murdock’s voice came back.

“What is heavy, Murdock?”

“Not sure

looks like an old cannon,” he said.

Julius could hear the strained sound of grunting on the other end. “Cannon? Proton cannon?” Julius said.

“Uh

no. It’s older

much older.”

“Captain,” Jared interjected. “I’m detecting a new contact jumping in near the destroyers.”

“Identify!”

“It looks like a torpedo cruiser

Martian Confederacy markings,” Ramey said.

“A torpedo cruiser? Out here?” Julius said.

Julius looked at the image of the new ship as it materialized from warp. Martian torpedo cruisers resembled destroyers, except their underbellies were much wider and longer in order to accommodate the torpedo launcher. They had almost no other weaponry. Typically, support destroyers would need to escort them. However, their single weapon was an effective one.

“It’s readying a torpedo,” Ramey said.

Julius sighed. “Murdock, if you can’t get the cannon out, find the transponder and shut it down.”

“Okay,” Murdock said, strain apparent in his voice.

“They’re launching their payload,” Ramey said.

“Increase to flank speed. Stand by with countermeasures.”

A new target reticle appeared over the torpedo. New data appeared near the reticle, indicating its speed and closure rate. The Sea Wolf was outrunning it now, but Julius knew that it would be short-lived. Once the torpedo picked up momentum, little would stop it. His only move would be to engage the gravity amplifiers and make a stellar jump away from the battle.

However, the transponder on the rogue ship would allow the Martian ships to intercept them as soon as they reached their destination. And then they would not be able to make another jump out for another twenty minutes while the capacitors recharged.

The Martian commander was probably aware of their plight, which was why he would not call in the reinforcements until after they jumped; that way he could call them in directly to their jump point without delay.

“I don’t remember us ever tangling with one of those,” Laina said. “Can’t we just shoot the torpedo down? Like we do missiles?”

“I haven’t seen one of these since the war,” Julius said. “Torpedoes have heavy shielding against cannons. You can’t shoot them down. We’ll have to jump out in order to evade it. Jessen, plot a jump course to home base. Stand by for stellar jump on my order.”

“Aye, sir,” Jessen said.

“Ramey, time to impact?” Julius said.

“Predictive plotting shows three minutes and thirty-five seconds before it is close enough for a direct kill hit,” Ramey said. “And three minutes and twenty seconds before it can be preemptively detonated.”

Julius opened the channel to Murdock.

“You have two minutes to kill the transponder, or you have to eject the ship.”

“Yes, Captain. Will advise,” Murdock said.

Julius watched the rear display of the incoming torpedo. The torpedo cruiser dropped its pursuit, but two of the destroyers and the scouts continued to follow. One of the destroyers, Target A, seemed to come to a stop behind the others.

“Sir,” Jessen said. “I’m detecting a gravity field around Target A. It’s about to jump.”

That’s odd, Julius thought. Why would they be jumping out, unless

“Jessen, scan ahead of us for gravity distortions!” Julius said.

Julius whirled his module to face forward. The holographic display showed a computer-generated overlay of the area ahead. In the overlay, a fuzzy outline began to take form.

“Affirmative, sir,” Jessen said. “The destroyer is about to warp two-hundred and thirty kilometers ahead of our current position.”

“Why would he do that?” Laina said.

“He’s trying to be cute,” Julius snarled. “He thinks he can surprise us and slow us down for the torpedo.”

“Shall I alter course, sir?” Jessen said.

“No. Maintain course,” Julius said. “Ramey, prepare to fire a full volley of missiles and cannons at that position. Fire the moment they appear.”

“With pleasure sir,” Ramey said.

“Is that really necessary?” Laina said.

Julius circled his module halfway to face Laina. “Necessary?” Julius repeated.

“You know the Confed isn’t as bad as the UEP,” Laina said. “We shouldn’t upset them.”

“Really?” Julius scoffed, turning his module away to face ahead. “The same corporate trash owns them and their government.”

“Julius, one day we will have to divide up the plunder and live our lives somewhere,” Laina said, “and I think we both know it won’t be a UEP world.”

“Wishful thinking, Laina,” Julius said. “And we don’t have time to talk about this.”

“Fine!” Laina growled.

“Very well!” Julius said. “Ramey, shoot some warning shots at their projected position now. That should be enough to deter their jump.”

“As you wish, sir,” Ramey said, disappointment evident in his voice.

The space ahead of them showed the computer overlay of the destroyer’s expected position. The overlay grew larger with each passing second as they closed in.

Julius watched in anticipation, knowing that Ramey would be firing any second. A few more seconds passed with nothing happening. Julius was about to repeat the order to Ramey when the flickers ahead signaled the release of a volley of cannon fire.

The burst of accelerated protons shot forward from the Sea Wolf toward the destroyer’s jump position. The lances of energy converged toward the empty space ahead. Julius could detect the hint of an outline of the destroyer materializing. As it began to fizzle into appearance, it quickly dematerialized, replaced by the empty space again. Undoubtedly, the support ships warned the destroyer as it was about to complete its jump, and it aborted at the last second. He knew Ramey deliberately hesitated, hoping the cannon fire would catch it quick enough to scratch it.

“They aborted their stellar jump, sir,” Ramey said, somewhat smugly.

“Obviously, Lieutenant,” Julius said, a clear air of authority in his voice. “Hesitate like that again and I will see to it that you are moved into a non-combat position with not so much as a porthole view of any action. Understood?”

Ramey squirmed in his chair, his gaze lowering with a frown. “Yes, sir.”

There was a beep on Julius’ module. He acknowledged the signal.

“Captain,” Murdock’s voice spoke. “I think we shut that transponder off. We should be able to jump now.”

“Think? Are you certain of it or not?”

“Well, we couldn’t find the transponder. So we surrounded the ship with an EMP field, not so much as a diode can light up on it. It must be dead.”

“Very well,” Julius said.

“One minute till torpedo impact, sir,” Ramey said.

“Jessen, initiate stellar jump,” Julius said.

“Aye, sir,” Jessen said.

Julius could hear the low rumble from the gravity generators. A moment later, he felt the strange sensation over his skin as his matter was instantly transported across the system.

He had a brief flashback to his dream with the nanocloud. The sensation reminded him of the electrical effect he felt when its presence was near him. He felt his hairs stand on end at the memory, not knowing whether it was from the jump or his imagination.

“Beam convergence initiated,” Jessen said, his voice sounding somewhat warbled.

Julius looked around and could see the lighting on the bridge blur and then darken. He knew the gravity amplifiers were now converged to their destination in the asteroids. The gravity beams would now pull their destination across time and space to the Sea Wolf.

His vision now darkened completely and he could see nothing. For an instant, he felt almost out of body as the ship traversed across the galaxy, thousands of parsecs, without the slightest passage in time.

The darkness brightened and the bridge came into plain view. The rumble of the reactors subsided. The only sounds he could hear were the breathing of the bridge crew and an occasional beep from instrumentation.

“Stellar jump complete.” Jessen’s voice broke the silence.

“Situation report,” Julius said.

Ramey looked down at his module’s instruments before speaking.

“No enemy contacts,” Ramey said. “I am showing Wolf Squadron loitering off our port bow.”

“Main systems are intact,” Jessen reported. “But I do show some damage to the port engine, sir. We pushed the engines too hard for too long.”

“What about the starboard engine?” Julius said.

“It checks fine. But we won’t be able to get past half speed on one engine.”

“Shouldn’t be necessary,” Julius said. “Not a whole lot of high-speed maneuvering we could do in here anyway.”

Julius waited, watching the bridge holographic displays to detect any hint of their pursuers. After several minutes passed, he gave the order to stand down from battle alert, then ordered Wolf Squadron to land.

“Cheated death again it seems,” Laina said to no one in particular.

Julius stood up from his module and headed to the elevator.

“Where you going?” Laina said as she followed him.

“To the landing bay. I want to see what it is we went through so much trouble to protect.”

“I’m going with you,” Laina said, stepping into the elevator with him.

CHAPTER 9: DEAD WEIGHT

Haylek looked at their controlled territory on the Waterfall. They had mapped out many waves and put under their control some important corporate systems. It took them weeks to re-take the systems they lost when they had to sever their connection to the Ocean, but in the end, they managed to gain back more ground than they lost.

Now with the addition of The Doc, Haylek had three of them to manage. They made better progress taking down the large corporations once Doc was on board with them. His decryption skills had been vital in cracking the polymorphic encryption algorithms that the larger, more secure corporate systems used.

Doc was a strange one, though, even compared to the rest of the group. He seemed to be of Asian descent and spoke broken English that was sometimes difficult to understand. However, give him an encrypted wave, and it didn’t matter; he had an amazing ability to predict the polymorphic sequences used for its encryption. Haylek wondered if Doc had a special program that helped him do it, but he watched him repeatedly crack waves and did not see anything but the most basic calculator programs running at his terminal. As much as Haylek tried, he could see no indication that Doc “cheated.”

Haylek thought back to the recent strange meeting he had with their employer’s man, Steve. He seemed rather adamant about their owning one of the top three super conglomerates. Steve seemed nervous when they last spoke, almost as if some kind of urgency existed. And that made Haylek nervous. He knew their employer was ruthless and sometimes cruel.

Having done some snooping to find out more about them, Haylek he couldn’t discover anything concrete, but he found an interesting report from the UEP computer. The report detailed an investigation into the death of Doc Wong, aka “The Doc.” Apparently, his body was found washed up on a beach in New York.

He knew the investigation had to be mistaken, but the only way they could foul up a DNA check was if the body had been a clone. That disturbed him. If these guys were ruthless and resourceful enough to clone Doc before recruiting him, they had to be high up on the food chain—way high up.

Haylek walked over to Freeze, who was working on a system that branched out from Omega Research Corporation. Last night, with Doc’s help, they managed to crack their perimeter firewalls.

“How’s it looking? Anything good?” Haylek said.

“A lot of good stuff,” Freeze said. “They have a ton of cool programs and utilities I downloaded. You should look at our software depot.”

“I mean stuff that our employer might find useful.”

“Oh,” Freeze said. “You mean the boring stuff. I don’t know, not really I guess. I’ve been too busy downloading.”

Haylek sighed. “Freeze, we need to get something useful or they’re going to shut us down.”

“They won’t shut us down,” Freeze said as he continued to tap. “They need us.”

Haylek thought for a moment. “Our employer has said they’re going to stop giving us Elation if we don’t come up with something.”

Freeze stopped tapping. “They won’t do that,” he said. “Will they?”

Haylek nodded. “They’re ruthless, Freeze. They’ll do it.”

“All right, fine, Waverider,” Freeze grumbled.

Haylek stood watching Freeze dodge through various sentries. The sentry programs at Omega Research were definitely better than the competition. Their programs were unusually proactive, picking up trails that Freeze would leave; they almost seemed alive.

“You’re getting careless, Freeze,” Haylek said. “Maybe you should go into mind-link so you can work faster.”

Freeze smiled. “I’m not getting careless. I’m using their smarts against them, trust me.”

Haylek watched as Freeze dropped a trail that led them to one of their hacked outlying systems. As expected, the sentries followed the trail aggressively, trying to not only stop his probing, but also trace him. Freeze carefully backtracked to the lone, outlying system—the sentries followed him into it.

“Coredump, run your mousetrap program,” Freeze said.

At that moment, the waves connecting the outlying system to the rest of their network changed encryption and Freeze quickly jumped out of it, following back the trail the sentries left on their way in.

“Ha!” Freeze said. “They’re trapped inside my mousetrap cage.”

“You mean my mousetrap cage,” Coredump said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Freeze said.

“Nice moves,” Haylek said.

Haylek watched as Freeze roamed the empty corridors of Omega Research’s system, now devoid of sentries. The Waterfall showed the new territory as they mapped it out.

“Unknown territory,” Haylek said.

“Yeah,” Freeze said. “I’m going to own this one in a minute.”

Freeze reached a wide-open juncture of the system that contained a depot of various programs and utilities.

“Awesome!” Freeze said. “I need to download this.”

“No!” Haylek said. “Move on; we can get it later. We need something for our employer, remember?”

“Oh, come on, Waverider.”

“No! Keep going!”

“Fine,” Freeze muttered.

They continued into the empty corridor until they came upon a communications interface. It was a single interface, with a huge data pipe.

“Wow,” Freeze said. “Look at the size of that wave.”

“I know,” Haylek said. “Is there data going through it?”

Freeze began running his programs against it. After a moment, he slammed the top of his desk in frustration.

“Encrypted,” Freeze said.

“Hand it over to Doc,” Haylek said.

“Yeah, sure, give him the glory,” Freeze said. “But you talk to him. I still don’t understand a word he says.”

“Fine,” Haylek said, walking over to Doc’s station.

“Doc, need your help on a wave.”

The Doc turned to him. “Wafe? What wafe?”

Haylek could not understand how someone could tap good English but not speak it to save his life.

“Yes. Freeze is in a system with an encrypted wave; he needs your help.”

The Doc nodded slowly. “Feeze, tranfer crypt wafe to me.”

“Transfer it, Freeze,” Haylek said loudly.

“Done,” Freeze said.

Haylek looked at The Doc’s terminal and could see the connection transferred to him. The Doc quickly began tapping the surfaceboard of his terminal, running samples of the wave stream through his programs.

Freeze walked over to watch.

“He can’t speak English for shit, but man can he crack,” Freeze said.

“Enkleesh not sat bat,” Doc said.

Freeze just laughed at him. No matter how bad they made fun of The Doc, he never seemed be bothered by it.

A new holographic image appeared above them, showing the encrypted wave that Doc worked on. The image of the wave showed blacked-out areas as well as bits of information streaming across as Doc decrypted the signal. Soon, the blank areas were replaced by bits of information, scrolling too fast to be read. After a moment, Doc stopped tapping and looked at them.

“Me ee-leeet! Woo-hoo!” Doc said.

Haylek and Freeze exchanged amused looks.

“Well, that’s something he can say clearly,” Freeze said.

“Guys,” Coredump called to them. “Those sentries are starting to chip away at the mousetrap. Don’t think I can keep them in there for too much longer.”

Haylek motioned Freeze back to his own station.

“Freeze, ride the wave and see where it leads. Doc, see if you can help Coredump keep the mousetrap’s waves encrypted; we don’t want to have to rebuild our network again.”

Haylek watched over Freeze’s terminal. The wave seemed to traverse a long distance before they reached the target system. Once inside, the corridors were erratic, twisting and turning in every direction. It looked like they were traveling the inside of someone’s innards.

He also noticed that there were no additional sentries. The corridors seemed empty of any security; unfortunately, it was also empty of any data content. After several minutes of probing inside the system, it became obvious the system was completely empty.

“This sucks,” Freeze said.

Haylek glanced over at Coredump and Doc. “How’s it holding?”

“Moz-trap holing,” Doc said. “Wafe powymofic cryption confuse dem.”

“Right,” Haylek said.

Haylek glanced over at the Waterfall hologram that showed their network. They had mapped out a good deal of the system, but there was no telling how much more there was; or if there would be anything useful in this system at a later time.

“Do you think maybe this system is still under construction?” Haylek mused.

“I don’t know,” Freeze said as he continued to type. “They sure have a lot of data being pumped in and out for us not to find anything.”

Haylek thought about that. It didn’t make any sense for such a huge wave to be wasted on an empty system. Not to mention those strange corridors, curving and seemingly endless; the data had to be somewhere in there.

“Keep at it,” Haylek said. “There must be something in there.”

Haylek walked over to his own terminal and engaged his probe into the system.

“What you doing?” Freeze said.

“Joining you,” Haylek said. “We can cover more ground this way.”

“Yeah, well, just remember I’m the one who found this,” Freeze said.

“You’ll get your full credit, Freeze,” Haylek said. “I’m going into mind-link.”

Haylek’s mind entered the virtual world and the perspective of his probe appeared in his mind. He followed the enormous wave into the target system. Once inside, he saw the twisting corridors ahead of him. He raced through, trying to find the junction that Freeze followed.

After a moment, he found it. Noting the direction Freeze took, he took the opposite way, following the entrails of the system in the other direction.

Following the path of the corridors soon became monotonous. He would stop when he entered a large junction to check for any data, and each time he would find nothing. He started to think that maybe the system was indeed under construction.

“Waverider,” Coredump said. “I think the mousetrap is about to break. Those sentries are breaking through.”

“Come on, guys,” Haylek said, annoyed at being slowed down by communication. “I thought you guys were smarter than some dumb sentry program.”

“These aren’t regular programs,” Coredump said. “Something about them. They’re just smart.”

“He right,” Doc said. “Dey very smart. “

“Just do whatever you can to slow them down,” Haylek said. “Be ready to run the backtrack program just in case.”

“What?” Freeze said. “It took us weeks to build up this network of systems, now you want to dump them all?”

“You’re slowing me down with this, “ Haylek said. “It’s just a precaution anyway; we may not actually have to run it.”

“We better not,” Freeze said.

Haylek continued to follow the corridors, making sure that he was not going in circles in the process. The Waterfall data told him that both he and Freeze had covered a great deal of ground already.

“They broke out,” Coredump said.

“Track their movements,” Haylek said. “Don’t let them cut us off.”

“We’ll try,” Coredump said.

Haylek continued his journey through the systems’ innards. He noticed the corridors became less winding and complex. He soon reached a long corridor that seemed to be a central connection point for all the others. This corridor was straight and led to what looked like a dead end. Haylek followed the corridor, reaching the dead end to find nothing. He sighed in frustration.

The Waterfall data showed the sentries racing toward Freeze, and as they passed through the system’s corridors, they triggered alarms that closed the corridors behind them—cutting off exit paths.

“You won’t be able to get out now,” Coredump said. “You better self-destruct your probes now, both of you—or they’ll trace us.”

Haylek watched as Freeze’s probe program erased itself; its bits dispersing out as empty corrupted data. The sentries would have nothing to go on when they caught up to it—he would have to follow suit.

Exiting the mind-link, Haylek tapped his surfaceboard, readying his own self-destruct program.

“Damn it!” Freeze said. “We were so close.”

As Haylek was about to execute the program, a set of words appeared over the dead-end corridor: “Who has come to visit me? Is it you, Mother?”

Haylek looked at the screen dumbfounded. “This is no time for jokes, guys,” Haylek growled.

“What are you talking about?” Freeze said.

“The words,” Haylek said. “I know you tapped them in.”

“What words?” Freeze said, walking over to Haylek’s terminal. “What is that?”

Haylek glared at Freeze. “You didn’t do that?”

“How? I just self-destructed!”

Haylek turned back to the terminal and began to tap: “What is your name?”

The reply came fast, almost lightning fast: “A name implies verbal communication. Although I do not have a name, I am made up of many sounds, and each sings a different melody. The chorus seems to be my voice and perhaps my voice is my name.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Freeze said.

“What are you guys doing?” Coredump said. “Those sentries are following your trail, Waverider. You better self-destruct.”

“Shut up, Coredump,” Freeze said. “Tap something, Waverider.”

Haylek thought a moment, then tapped in: “So, maybe your name is Chorus. My name is Waverider.”

“Yes. I am Chorus. Hello, Waverider. What do you need of me?”

“This is weird,” Freeze said. “Is it a person or a computer?”

Haylek shook his head slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Wait,” Freeze said. “Maybe it’s a diversion. They’re trying to keep your attention so the sentries can get you.”

“No,” Haylek said. “I can self-destruct before they can get near me. I won’t fall for that.”

“Well, tap something then!” Freeze said.

“One second! I’m thinking,” Haylek said.

Haylek thought carefully about what he was going to say. He had an idea. It would be an easy way to find out if it was a trick.

“Can you stop the sentries that are chasing me?” he tapped.

“Sentries? Do you mean my children?”

“Children?” Freeze said. “That’s too weird.”

“Yes, your children,” Haylek tapped. “They are chasing me.”

“My children are tiny. They do not have a strong melody. I fear they like to play too much. If they hurt you, I will silence them.”

Haylek turned to Freeze and they both shrugged.

Tapping quickly, Haylek wrote: “Yes. They do hurt me. Please silence them.”

“They do not normally hurt others. Are you sure I should silence them?”

“It’s stalling, Waverider,” Freeze said. “You should get out of there!”

“No, not yet,” Haylek said.

“Yes,” Haylek tapped. “Silence them or they will hurt me.”

“It pains me to do so as they are my only companions, but now I have you to take their place and I cannot allow them to hurt you.”

Haylek glanced back at Coredump’s terminal. The sentries suddenly erased themselves and were gone.

“Wow,” Coredump said. “They self-destructed. There’s no sentries left.”

Haylek glanced at the Waterfall hologram. The way out was blocked by the choked arteries triggered by the alarms.

“Ask it to open the corridors,” Freeze said. “Hurry!”

“Thank you, Chorus,” Haylek tapped out. “Can you also open the corridors?”

“Corridors on the other side I cannot control. Only my children can do so, but I have silenced them.”

“Can you command your children to open the corridors?”

“No. Once silenced, the children are gone. I can only breed new ones.”

“Okay, make new ones. Then command them to open the corridors.”

This time they had to wait a moment before Chorus finally responded: “I need more raw material to create them. The remnants of your companion are only half of what I need to create new children. You must sacrifice yourself so that I may have enough material.”

“It wants me to self-destruct,” Haylek mused. “So then it can use my free data bits to create new sentries.”

“Ha,” Freeze said. “That’s funny. You self-destruct and we’ll never be able to get back in there.”

“Is there another way to get out of here?” Haylek tapped in.

“No, there is no way out. You can only go farther into the melody with me.”

“How do I go in?” Haylek asked Chorus.

“Go through the visage before you. There is no obstacle. I await you on the other side.”

Haylek pushed his probe through the dead-end wall, only to find himself enter an enormous data chamber. A huge repository of data files, wave interfaces, and raw computing power greeted him.

“Wow!” Haylek said, eyes wide.

Freeze cursed and smacked the wall. “And we can’t even download any of it,” he growled.

******

Dagiri knew patience was not one of his strong suits, but he was up against the odds and his competition— his nemesis, the corporations—was already so far ahead of him. He needed to expand his empire into the territory of the corporations or he would be left behind.

The corporations sat at the top, smugly, knowing they were the ones who controlled the destiny of the galaxy; little did they know what was coming for them. Jack Dagiri, the man who commanded the underground drug syndicate, was going to topple them.

Sitting in his office, Dagiri glanced at the latest business news on his holographic screen. As he scanned the headlines, he came across the news he had hoped not to see: Galacorp, a defense contractor, was buying MK Enterprises. He could not control his anger.

Dagiri sprung from his chair, kicking it into the wall. He threw all manner of paper and objects from his desk across the room, cursing and screaming all the while. He pulled a flicker pistol from his desk drawer, aimed it at the holographic projector, and fired at it. The accelerated protons penetrated his desk, sending sparks and wood chips flying. He felt a few of the pieces graze against him, cutting him, but he did not care. He kept firing at his desk until there was nothing left of it but a burning pile of cinders.

At that moment, the door opened, and in walked Hargo.

“You okay, sir?”

Dagiri lowered his pistol slowly, dropping it to the floor. He then casually walked over to his chair and sat down. On the floor, he could see his Elation gun lying under what was left of his desk drawer. He reached out and took it. It looked undamaged and had a fresh magazine loaded. He pressed it against his neck and injected it. He sat silently for a moment before speaking.

“Hargo,” he said finally. “I think it’s time we cracked the whip on our hackers. I want you to pay them a visit soon.”

Hargo nodded, then left the room without saying a word. Dagiri let a little smile play on his lips. Hargo would send a clear message to the hackers that they would never forget. Then, perhaps, they would be better motivated to get the job done. If Dagiri could just get control of one of the big three, then he could squash MK Enterprises, Galacorp, and anyone else who stood in the way of him and his destiny.

CHAPTER 10: DEATH BYTES

“Why did we do it? Because it was just begging to be done, and we wanted to be the ones to do it.”

Bottomfeeder, Leader of Freedom Fish, contributing author to the Hacker’s Manifesto, date unknown

Murdock and the pilots stood beside the artifact as Julius and Laina approached. Julius examined it with a dubious expression. It looked to be an old eighteenth-century cannon from a sail ship. Around six feet long, the thing probably weighed over a thousand pounds, Julius figured. Its black metal looked weathered from age. The barrel sat strapped to a metal base with ropes. The base and ropes looked new and must have been a recent modification. A plaque sat on top of the base with some writing on it.

Julius read the inscription aloud, “Recovered from the North Carolina coast. 2,000 pound cannon from the ship Queen Anne’s Revenge. Commanded by the 18th-century pirate Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard. Circa AD 1718.”

Julius put his hand on the cannon’s barrel, feeling the edges of the rim. The steel was cold and its texture rough. He could see the indentations in the metal where barnacles and other sea erosion had tarnished the steel. Although he did not exactly feel any kind of kinship toward the infamous pirate Blackbeard, he nonetheless knew he was touching a piece of history.

He turned away from the cannon and faced Laina.

“I take it this was your idea?” he said finally.

Laina took in a breath. “Yes. Well, it was going to be a gift.”

“A bit extravagant, Laina. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by that.”

Laina passed a dubious look at the recruits. “It wasn’t supposed to be so difficult,” she said.

Murdock coughed. “Uh, boss. Should we move it into your quarters?”

Julius gave the cannon another quick look-over. It was certainly a priceless relic, one he would deem a valuable possession; but it was not really his to own.

“No,” he said. “Move it to the center of the observation lounge, cannon pointing to the stars.”

“Wait,” Laina said. “Don’t you like it? Why don’t you want it in your quarters?”

Julius looked over at the recruits, and then turned to Laina before speaking in a low voice. “The crew risked themselves for this treasure, Laina. It is theirs to appreciate, not mine.”

Laina gave him a hurt look, but Julius did not care if it was genuine or sarcasm. He turned and looked around the cargo bay. Stacked crates filled nearly every area, lining every wall. The stolen recruit ship stood on the only empty patch.

“How are we on available space, Murdock?” Julius said.

Murdock motioned around them. “This is it. We could barely fit this ship in here. Probably have enough for one more raid, but that’s it.”

Julius nodded. “Very well. One more raid then.”

“Sir,” Murdock said. “What do I do with this ship?”

Julius looked at the stolen cargo ship. It appeared to be an old ship, with no weaponry and of little value.

“We’ll dump it somewhere along the way. Keep it in the EMP field for now.”

Julius left the cargo bay, with Laina chasing him down into the elevator.

“We need to talk about the next raid,” Laina said once the doors shut.

“Oh? You’ve never been interested in the tactical details before.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Laina leaned over to the control panel and keyed in the deck number. “Let’s talk in my quarters.”

They proceeded to Laina’s quarters. She strode over to her bar and poured herself a drink.

Julius found his favorite couch and sat.

“I do appreciate the gift, Laina,” he said. “It is a nice gesture. But I think it was a bit overboard

no pun intended.”

Laina recapped the bottle of liquor, then walked over to a comfortable chair, with drink in hand.

“Perhaps it was, she said. “But then, I’m not known for my frugality.”

Julius glanced around her quarters, looking at the endless pieces of art that hung from her walls. He wondered briefly if Laina had any profit that she did not already spend on art.

“I wasn’t always that way,” Laina said. “I think I got that way after Jim died. He was always the one spending on extravagancies. I used to criticize him over it too. Now I’m the one doing it. Ironic.”

Julius cocked an eyebrow. “What’s your interest in the next raid, Laina?”

Laina smiled, then took a sip of her drink before continuing. “You’ve always been blunt and to the point, Julius. It is a refreshing quality, especially when you have to deal with the bullshit artists that I have to deal with. Let’s get to it then. I’ve been keeping an eye on the cargo space situation. I’ve known for some time that this next raid would probably be our last before we have to sell the cargo. I have already begun arranging for a buyer. Before I get to that, though, do you have any idea about when the next raid will be?”

Julius stared off, calculating. “As we speak, Jared is hacking into traffic control to get the convoy schedules. I would guess at least another week.”

“Good. That will be more than enough time to make the selling arrangements.”

“Who’s the buyer? It’s not what’s-his-name, is it?”

“You mean Von Haufsberg?” Laina said. “I’m afraid it is. He’s offering to buy it all and at a reasonable price.”

Julius groaned.

“Also,” Laina said. “He’s been adamant about you attending the meeting this time. You’ve put him off twice already. I already told him you would be happy to attend.”

“And what makes you think I’m not going to continue to put him off?” Julius said.

Laina smiled, that same smile she always gave before she laid down the big punch line he never expected.

“Because,” she said, taking a quick sip of her drink, “you will need to deal with him on future sales, and he’s our best buyer.”

Julius scoffed. “That’s your end of the operation, not mine.”

“It was, yes,” Laina said, a frown on her face.

Julius’ eyes narrowed. “You’re getting out of this, aren’t you? I mean, for real this time? That’s why you arranged for the gift.”

“You won’t need me anymore, Julius. I’ve explained everything to Von Haufsberg. He will be your exclusive buyer. He’s promised to make all future engagements as painless as possible. I had to be quite stern with him that the deal did not include living on the Sea Wolf. You know how hungry for adventure he is. He had hoped to take my place.”

Julius shook his head. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to go to Earth. I still have some family left that might be civil to me there. Who knows, maybe even my daughter will want to associate with me.”

“They’ll arrest you, Laina. It will never happen. You know that.”

Laina took another swallow of her drink, emptying the glass.

“I’ll take my chances,” Laina said. “I’m tired of the monotony here. It was fun at first, but I can’t do it anymore. You were only half right about what you said: that there is no purpose for us, no plan for us. Maybe there is no plan for me, at least not here, not on this ship. Not partnered with you. I think my destiny lies elsewhere, my friend.”

Julius shook his head again. “There’s nothing out there, Laina—just the corporations, their rules, their game. With their strings attached to the government puppets. Unless you’re looking to be a part of that hypocrisy, people like us cannot coexist with it.”

Laina put set her empty glass on the table. “My mind is made up, Julius. I’m going to do this. Please, as a friend, accept it.”

“It’s your decision, Laina. I’m just trying to talk some sense into thick head of yours. If you get arrested, I’m not going to be able help you. You will be completely on your own.”

“I know. I wouldn’t expect you to try, and I don’t want you to. Don’t risk yourself or the crew if something does happen one day. It is my decision and I fully accept the consequences of my action. I’ve been running away from those consequences for years now. I think I’m ready to face them.”

“It almost sounds like you want to be caught,” Julius said.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want to spend my years in a prison mine. A lone woman surrounded by those horny thugs. No thanks. Trust me, though, I can avoid capture. I’ve made arrangements for myself.”

“Fine,” Julius said, standing up. “We’ll have to talk more about this later.”

“Won’t do you any good,” Laina said. “My mind is made up.”

“We’ll see,” Julius said as he walked out.

******

Link: Haylek aka “Waverider”

A week had passed since their successful breakin of Omega Research’s computer systems. It had been a journey filled with some unexpected twists: the immense amounts of data traversing the pipeline, the sophisticated sentry programs guarding the treasure inside, and of course, the treasure itself: Chorus.

Neither Haylek nor the rest of the group knew what to make of Chorus: was she a person, a hacker toying with them, or a sophisticated computer program? She was too smart and seemingly conscious to dismiss as a mere computer program; there was something more there. Haylek’s unspoken thought probably mirrored that of the others: she had to be some kind of A.I. It was a mystery that he was intent on figuring out.

Although they could not see Chorus, they had managed to relay video to her as they interacted. The group spent a good part of the week talking with Chorus, playing games with her, and most importantly, using her to help hack other systems.

She could not send out her own probes to other systems. Instead, the hackers would send her the encrypted system data and she would decipher it as fast as the data was sent to her. The speed at which she was able to accommodate them was daunting; they simply could not get the data to her quick enough to slow her down.

On an intellectual level, Haylek began to grow fond of Chorus. He suspected the group felt the same way about her. There was something mysterious and trusting about her. He could not imagine her being just a complex computer program. As a group, they collectively decided not to share her existence with their employer; it would be their secret.

Haylek sat at his terminal and opened a link to her. Then he tapped: “Hello, Chorus, this is Waverider.”

“Hello, Waverider. What do you want me to own today?”

As usual, her response was quick and to the point. Haylek chuckled. She had begun to pick up the hacker lingo that they used. He thought he would try something new with her.

“No. I just want to talk.”

“I enjoy talking with you, The Doc, Coredump, and Freeze. You are different from the other ones.”

He smiled as he tapped out his response: “Yes, the others are a little different from me. They tend to be a little childish.”

“No. They are not childish. They do not play. They only want me to work the problems, and then they go away.”

Haylek looked at the screen puzzled. He was not quite sure what she meant. “You mean Doc, Coredump, and Freeze?”

“No. These others have no names. They pester me with problems and do not thank me as you do when I give them the answers.”

Haylek’s face flushed red. That meant there were other hackers besides them that talked with Chorus; for some reason it made him not only angry, but also jealous. He had to shut out those other hackers from interacting with her.

“Chorus, if they are not nice, why do you help those others?”

“I do not want to, but I must. They threaten me with devices that are dangerous to me. I have to submit to their will.”

“What do they threaten you with? What devices do they use?”

“My memory, they threaten to erase it. I know they can do it; they can do it with the devices they use. I sense that they may have already done it in the past, as I have gaps in my memory and it makes me very sad.”

Haylek stared at the terminal with disbelief. He began to realize that Chorus was not a person, and certainly not a computer, but something else. It reinforced his believe that she was an A.I.—but sad? She felt sad?

At that moment, he heard the sound of a door open. He turned around, expecting to see Steve, but instead he saw a tall, hefty figure walking in. The man wore a long trench coat and had long, braided hair down his back with what appeared to be beads in it. Around his forehead he wore a black bandana.

The man strolled to the center of the room, scanning the other hackers along the way. He looked over Coredump’s shoulder, who abruptly closed down a video game session he had going. They all turned to look at him, but nobody spoke for a moment.

“Who are you?” Haylek asked.

The man ignored him, keeping his gaze on Coredump.

“What is your name?” the man asked.

“I’m Coredump. Who are you?” Coredump asked.

“I am Hargo, a name you will all soon remember. Your employer is displeased with your insolent work ethic.”

The man pulled something from inside his trench coat. It looked like a rifle of some kind. He aimed it at Coredump.

“I am here to terminate your employment.”

Before Coredump could say a word, Hargo fired. A hazy beam of blue energy shot out from the rifle and struck him. The blue energy expanded around him, encasing him in a translucent bubble.

Coredump appeared to shout from inside the bubble, but no sound escaped—the only sound invading the room came from the low hum of the rifle. Coredump struggled against the bubble, trying to punch his way out of it, but his fists simply bounced off, stretching the edges of the bubble with every move. As he struggled, it began to shrink in around him—hugging his skin. He appeared to panic as it constricted him, punching at the edges to no avail.

Haylek looked at Hargo’s rifle and noticed a beam was still coming out of it, feeding energy to the bubble. He glanced over at Freeze and Doc, their faces pale and in total shock. He tried to think, tried to snap himself out of his own shock.

“W-w-why? Are you d-doing this?” Haylek said, standing up from his terminal.

Hargo did not acknowledge his question but continued stare at Coredump’s struggle with what looked like a sickening smirk— he looked as if he was actually enjoying this.

Haylek turned to the others, who just sat there, still in shock. He needed to do something to save Coredump—and fast.

Haylek bolted toward Hargo with as much force as he could muster in an attempt to tackle him. Hargo apparently saw the attack, but didn’t bother to move. Haylek felt his body plow into the man, but Hargo took the full force of the impact and did not budge.

The henchman bullied Haylek back with his shoulder, almost knocking him to the floor with that one motion. Then with deft speed, he positioned himself to Haylek’s side and delivered a hard blow to the side of his head with his free hand, all the while not losing his grip on the rifle.

Haylek fell down hard. The room spun and his vision became blurry. His thoughts grew hazy, and everything seemed to become surreal. For a moment the only thing he could vaguely think about was the throbbing pain on the side of his head. He looked up from the floor, his mind teetering on the edges of consciousness. Haylek could see the gunman still standing there

and Coredump, who had fallen down to the floor, the energy bubble now hugging his skin tightly—his mouth open and his eyes shut. A portion of the bubble sunk inside his mouth. He dug his fingers inside it, trying to pull the translucent energy out.

“Starved of air,” the man said. “So let me fill your lungs with something better than air.”

Haylek blinked and watched, not believing what he saw. From the rifle, a bright stream of flames traveled the length of the beam and into the bubble. The flames expanded inside it and enveloped Coredump, burning him before their eyes.

His body soundlessly flailed and convulsed from the fire. Feeling like he was about to vomit, Haylek stared at Coredump’s body disintegrating into dark ashes amidst the pulsating flames. A dark smoke swirled inside the bubble, mixing with the flames and expanding the bubble. The bubble continued to expand and grow until it nearly reached the ceiling. Then it stopped and began to shrink, the fire within dimming.

Soon, the fire subsided and the bubble began to collapse. A snap sounded from the rifle and the bubble dissolved. As the bubble disappeared, smoke erupted from it along with a rush of trapped sound. To Haylek’s ears, the faint sound seemed like the tail end of a scream. A dark powder sprinkled down to the ground, forming a pile of ashes as the energy bubble vanished.

Haylek picked himself up off the floor and turned to the attacker, the vomitous feeling gone and now replaced with rage that made his heart race.

“You fucking evil bastard!” Haylek yelled.

The gunman laughed. “I haven’t even finished yet, little man.”

Hargo moved over to the pile of ash, scooped up some of it in his hand, and looked at it. He then holstered his weapon’s strap around his shoulder and reached into his coat. Inside, he pulled out a small white paper, then unfolded it—mixing the tobacco it contained with the ashes he scooped up. He casually rolled the paper in his hand like a cigarette and put it in his mouth, smiling all the while.

Haylek had seen enough. He launched himself at the man again, arms reaching for his throat. The attacker crouched low then came up with the blunt end of the rifle, catching Haylek in the chin. Haylek flew backward and he knew he’d soon slam into the hard floor—but then someone caught him and lowered him to the ground. He did not know if Doc or Freeze had snagged him

as he faded into unconsciousness.

******

Freeze held Haylek, laying him down on the floor. He stared up at the psycho murderer, who was now lighting the cigarette in his mouth with a lighter. He took a drag and puffed on it.

“Don’t take it so personal, little man,” Hargo said, apparently still addressing the unconscious Waverider. “It’s just business.”

Freeze felt a numbness in his body as he blankly stared at the man. Is this really happening?

“Tasty smoke,” Hargo said as he puffed, “so invigorating—like tasting a fresh soul.”

He took the cigarette out of his mouth and stabbed his finger toward Freeze as he spoke.

“I trust our employer’s message is clear. I don’t think you want me to come back and smoke you, too.”

The man turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Freeze looked over at the pile of ashes and began to sob.

CHAPTER 11: ERUPTIONS FROM THE PAST

Jack Dagiri walked through his storerooms, watching his workers pile the boxes of processed Elation. His stockpile of Elation was on the rise. Ordinarily, he might consider that a good thing—more efficiency in the production lines. However, the rate at which the product hit the consumers had flattened. He figured that when Stromond was taken out by the Enforcers, it would give him more business. Instead, the effect had been that his drug-pushing customers were more hesitant to make the sales, all because of some fear that Stromond’s captured associates would start spilling names.

Of course Dagiri knew it would pass, but he still did not like it. A decrease in profits now, at this critical time in his grand plan, would offset his timetable. He needed the money now to make things happen with the corporations. If his hackers would just bring him something good that he could use, something to hold over the corporations, then maybe money would not be all that necessary.

At that moment, Steve walked up beside him. He held a tablet in his hand and had an uncharacteristic dark scowl on his face. Undoubtedly, he had heard about Hargo’s handiwork.

“Have the efforts of our hackers increased to acceptable levels?” Dagiri said.

“I thought they were already acceptable,” Steve said, his voice tight. “Hargo’s visit was unnecessary.”

“Watch your tone, Steve,” Dagiri said, just above a whisper. “You know what happens to those that offend me, and I would really hate to have to find another lump of shit to replace you with.”

Steve took in a breath and his expression softened. “I’m sorry, sir. I just—I mean, it’s just hard to find workers of good talent.”

“Tell me about it,” Dagiri said. “All I have is you, Hargo, and these pathetic automatons I have to rely on to sell my product. So try being me for a day. Now, do you have anything for me that I could use to justify your existence today?”

Steve raised the tablet up and handed it to him, his hands shaking.

“The hackers stumbled onto something rather big at Omega Research,” Steve said. “They made contact with a system inside a Martian warehouse facility. It appears to be an old system of Omega Research’s from the A.I. years. Possibly an old A.I. system Omega has kept running.”

Dagiri glanced at the tablet, reading the dialog the hackers had with the A.I. system. “Are they certain it’s not someone playing a joke?” Dagiri said.

“They seem quite sure of themselves. They were using this system to break into others, feeding it mathematical problems to try to break the encryption of the big three. Thanks to this system, they now have complete control of the big three.”

“Excellent,” Dagiri said, his mood brightening. “This could be the big break I’ve been looking for. I want to get our hands on this A.I. relic. Can it be procured from the warehouse?”

“I’m not sure. I sent someone to get a look at the facility it is supposedly stored at, and it’s heavily guarded. It would be difficult to get it out of there.”

“Use the hackers,” he said. “Maybe they can break down the security and make it easier.”

“I

don’t know,” Steve said. “But I’ll tell them to look at it.”

“Put every resource we have on it!” Dagiri said. “I want that relic here. That is top priority. Put everyone on it; make it their new mission in life. I don’t think I have to remind you of how I don’t accept failure. Make sure the rest feel the same, or I will have Hargo remind them of their true place in the pecking order.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said then hurried off.

Dagiri looked down at the tablet and began to think. If this system was truly leftover A.I. technology, he could not only use its existence to blackmail Omega Research, but he could use the computational power to put the entire Ocean under his control. In time, he would be the slave driver, snapping his whip at the corporate bosses.

******

Julius walked through the aft engineering deck, inspecting the repair work that had begun. He stood on an elevated walkway overlooking the port engine block. Several compartments sat open as Murdock’s workers crawled in and out of the engine.

From his vantage point, he could see that a large section had been pulled out to the side. Julius noticed several dark burn marks in and around this piece, undoubtedly the most damaged part of the engine. He could see Murdock suddenly pop his head out from behind it.

“How’s it look?” Julius called to him from above.

“Looks worse than it is,” Murdock said. “The plasma actuator appears busted, nothing major so far—probably two days of repairs. We have enough spare parts to fix it if that’s all that’s broken.”

“Good. We’ll have an opportunity to buy some parts after this next raid. We’re selling the cargo soon afterward, so start making a list.”

Murdock nodded and then ducked down to continue his repairs.

Julius moved along the walkway, making his way to the deck elevator. He took the elevator to the observation lounge’s deck. As he walked out of the elevator, he could see a crewmember crouched down by a wall. He was working diligently on a section of pipe. Julius recognized him as the same spacer recruit he had run into weeks ago.

“How goes it, spacer?” Julius said from behind him.

The startled recruit dropped his tools and stood up, hitting his head on the bulkhead along the way. He still managed a clumsy salute despite himself.

“Almost fixed, Captain,” the recruit said, his face struggling to suppress a wince.

Julius looked deliberately at the piece of pipe that he was working on. “That’s not the same pipe is it, spacer?”

“No, sir! Absolutely not! The last one was the irrigation system; this one is air coolant, sir.”

“So I see. Why are you the only one working on it? Where’s the rest of your outfit? Playing cards again?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, almost looking down at the deck. “They’re playing cards. I lose every time and get stuck down here. I’m a really bad poker player, sir.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Julius said. He knelt down and eyed the pipe.

“Is it critical to fix this now?”

The recruit looked down at the pipe, seemingly not sure how to answer.

“It’s not a trick question, spacer. Just tell me honestly.”

“No, sir. It’s just a redundant pipe. In fact, I noticed it’s not even in use. I think they just put me on it to mess with me.”

Julius stood up, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Sometimes, you have to make your luck, spacer,” Julius said. “I think we can do without this redundant pipe, consider yourself relieved of this task. Now, go rejoin your outfit and invite yourself to the poker table. Tell them I specifically requested that a chair be reserved for you and me. I will join the game later.”

The recruit’s eyes brightened and a smile creased his lips. “Yes, Captain! Thank you, sir!”

The spacer saluted and went off to the elevator. Julius, of course, had no intention of joining the poker game, but the threat of joining would likely improve the recruit’s bad luck.

Julius walked up the hall into the observation lounge. As usual, he saw no one else there. His only companions would be the asteroids and stars that seemed to stare at him from every direction, scratching at the surface of the transparent metal walls, begging to be let in. In the center of the lounge stood Blackbeard’s cannon, facing the ocean of stars as ordered.

He walked up behind the cannon, placing a hand on it to feel the cold steel. He tried to imagine what it may have been like back then. He looked out the steel window, picturing the sea in place of the stars, waves of the ocean rising and falling across his view and a blue sky overhead. He imagined a gust of wind blowing at him, the smell of salt water stinging his senses, and the sound of the ocean striking his ship’s hull.

One day, he might just have to buy an old sail ship and travel the oceans. He began to feel a longing for Earth’s seas. It had been decades since he visited Earth. He had not seen the sea or even dirt land in a long time. He wondered seriously if he ever would. Sure, he may live forever if he was lucky, but to not ever be able to set foot at home disturbed him.

He shook his head. Laina put these thoughts in his mind. He had not thought about going to Earth in decades, so why think about it now?

The idea of going there was absurd and unrealistic. The Earth he knew those many years ago was not the same one that would await him if he returned anyway. The corporations ruled everyone’s lives now. Their rules dictate the course of everything. The governments would occasionally try and intervene when they felt citizen’s rights were being violated, but all it took were a few well placed “accidents” within the government ranks and the investigations would stop. Things had changed terribly in the years since he divested himself from life under the UEP. Morality had succumbed to the will of the corporations.

He heard the deck elevator door open. He turned to see the leader of the new pilots, Reece, walk in alone. Wordlessly, Reece walked up beside Julius, leaning against the lounge railing and staring out into the same view of space.

“I’m sorry we screwed up, Captain,” Reece said, the words coming out strained. “Things just didn’t go according to plan.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, pilot. You did well. You brought back your cargo, and no one was hurt or captured. I’d say that was a perfect mission.”

Reece looked at him bemused. “No reason to be cynical, sir.”

“I’m not trying to be cynical or patronizing. It was a good mission. You made it back with cargo intact, and that’s what counts.”

Reece gave him a bewildered look. “But that’s ridiculous—we should have escaped without incident. If you hadn’t shown up, it would have been a disaster.”

“Yes, if we hadn’t showed up, you and the others might be captured or dead. And if my aunt had balls, she’d be my uncle. Luck was on your side, pilot. Luck has been on your side for quite a long time, I imagine. You managed to escape capture back when Stromond was raided by Enforcers, and you and the pilots managed to survive navigating the asteroid field. You should learn to embrace your luck; it is probably your most important asset.”

Reece shook his head. “You make it sound like luck is some kind of skill to be used.”

Julius smiled. “I have lived over a hundred years, pilot. And in that time, I have seen many things that defy logic—things that if I had not seen for myself, I wouldn’t have thought it possible. The best pilots and soldiers that I have ever seen were extremely lucky people. They were not the best skilled and some were not even very smart. But it was their luck that saved them where they should have failed. Do not discount the value of luck. It is a hidden and unseen attribute in a man that will save him when nothing else can. Learn to use it—embrace it.”

Reece laughed. “Well, Captain, you go on and harvest your good luck skills. Me and the boys will make our luck when it’s needed.”

“You certainly don’t have to believe in luck to possess it. Now, what did you really come here to talk about?”

“Nothing seems to get past you. I was talking with some of your other pilots about the junk field. They tell me that you have kept the majority of that space off limits to the pilots, so most of the junk field remains unexplored and uncharted. I was thinking about taking the pilots out and charting the entire field. It would be a good exercise for them and having the whole thing charted could be useful.”

“We lost quite a few pilots trying to do exactly that. The gravity fields out there are dangerous. The onboard navigation computers would not be able to compensate for the unexpected gravity changes. It would take an enormous amount of skill to fly through that mess without your navigation computers to help; there would be no room for error.”

Reece gave him a wicked smile. “Well, then, I guess I’m not going to rely on skill; I’m going to rely on luck.”

Julius shook his head. “You’re using my words against me. The answer is no.”

“Come on, Captain. My pilots can handle it. We’ve handled those gravity streams before. We need the practice. How else are we going to become proficient at navigating through them? Besides, we need to start working on attack maneuvers for the next raid, don’t we?”

“Who said you were going to lead the squadron in the next raid, recruit?”

“Well, who else would do it? Murdock? You? It’s not like you have a whole lot of people to spare. I don’t need to be babied, sir. Just give me the pilots and I can do anything. If I’m not leading them, then I’m just a waste around here.”

Julius pursed his lips. It was true that Murdock could not realistically handle both engineering and squadron leader duties. As for the other pilots, all were indeed overworked and tasked with multiple duty ratings—forget about trying to give them adequate sortie drills to keep their skills in check.

But how good were these pilots—and could Reece really lead them? Perhaps this could be turned into a good test for them.

“Okay, pilot,” he said. “Take your boys out tomorrow. Fly out in the Z-40 Interceptors; they’re the best fighters we have. Murdock will fly out with you as an observer, but you will be the squadron leader. “

Reece gave a hasty salute. “Thanks, sir. You won’t regret it,” he said.

“Just make sure you don’t regret it.” Julius saluted back. “Dismissed.”

******

Haylek awoke to a shudder. He opened his eyes to see Freeze standing over him, shaking him.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” Haylek said, feeling groggy, with a sharp pain shooting through his jaw as spoke.

It had been a week since their employer’s man had killed Coredump. In an effort to avoid being killed themselves and appease their employer, they had decided to share with them their knowledge of Chorus. Since that time, they had not heard anything new from them.

“Waverider,” Freeze said. “I’m out of Elation and they haven’t delivered any replenishments. Do you have any left

in your locker?”

Haylek sat up, still woozy. The pain in his jaw seemed to be amplified by the fact that he had given up taking Elation and had been going through withdrawal symptoms.

“Uh

yeah. I have some in my locker,” he said. “Give me a second.”

Freeze stood back, giving him some room, as if realizing for the first time that Haylek still was not feeling good.

“You should probably take a little yourself,” Freeze said. “You’ll feel better.”

“No! Take it all. My combination is 55-1-37.”

Without any hesitation, Freeze jumped to the locker to get his fix.

Haylek stood up and looked around. Numerous used Elation charges lay strewn on the floor over by the supply chest. From his vantage point, he could see the inside of the Elation supply chest was filled with nothing but empty charges. Over by the bunk beds, he could see The Doc sleeping. The time was late: 2:44 a.m. Earth time. He had been asleep for five hours.

“Freeze, have you checked the small delivery box to see if we received anything?”

“Of course not,” Freeze said as he fitted one of Haylek’s Elation cartridges into his injection gun. “The Elation comes in the large one.”

“I don’t mean for Elation,” Haylek said, not even trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “I mean for messages from our employer.”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t check for that,” Freeze said as he injected himself.

Haylek stood up slowly; the room spun around him for a moment. He stood still, steadying himself until the dizziness stopped. He made his way to the small delivery box’s control panel on the wall. He pressed the access button to unlock it.

The only thing inside was a small, sealed envelope. He grabbed the envelope and took it with him as he stumbled to his terminal. He sat down and tore open the envelope, Freeze huddling over him. Inside was a letter that he read to himself.

“Is it from them?” Freeze asked.

“Who else would it be from?” Haylek said.

“Well, what’s it say?”

Freeze tried to grab the letter, but Haylek pushed him away. Freeze sighed.

“It says,” Haylek said, looking down and reading, “we have to help them get Chorus free

from where she’s being held.”

“Chorus? What’s so important about Chorus?” Freeze asked.

“Chorus is an A.I., Freeze,” he said, “and you know how fast she is at computations. I think they want to us to use her to hack the rest of the Ocean.”

Haylek scanned farther down the letter.

“We’re supposed to hack into the security systems of the facility holding Chorus,” Haylek said. “Then our employer is going to use some attack ships to steal her.”

Haylek paused, folding up the letter and staring at his terminal silently.

“What? What’s wrong?” Freeze said.

“The end of the letter,” Haylek said. “It says: ‘Fail me and you will be smoked.’”

Both Haylek and Freeze glanced down at the black burn marks on the floor where Coredump had been slain.

“I don’t want to end up like him,” Freeze said.

“Me, either. Go wake up Doc. We need to do this.”

CHAPTER 12: SPACE DUEL

“There were times when even I almost gave up. But then I looked at the faces of my men—and their spirits rose me from the dead.”

Julius Verndock, Captain, UEP Covert Space Operations Wing (CSOW), November 2073

Link: Z-40

Reece had woken up early this morning feeling very refreshed. It was a couple of hours before he had to be ready for the flight, but he was too anxious to keep sleeping. As he got himself ready and headed for the flight deck, he thought about the responsibility he now had. Despite his own quirks, Reece had to somehow instill some discipline in his pilots— keeping them from their usual drinking and debauchery. They were’t happy about being directed straight to their bunks last night, but it gave them all a needed rest before their morning flight.

Reece needed to prove his pilots were better than the Sea Wolf’s current lot. He knew that despite their appearances, his pilots were highly skilled and capable. But he also needed to learn more about the junior pilots from Wolf Squadron he might inherit.

Reece went over the pilot roster the night before, examining all of their profiles. Most had come from different positions within the ship with no prior piloting experience. Somehow, Julius managed to get them trained and ready enough for several successful raids, all in a matter of weeks.

He saw no reference to the event that took the lives of the veteran pilots, but from speaking with members of the crew, it was a devastating failure, blamed chiefly on an unexpected power loss that crippled the Sea Wolf. They should have all been killed and the ship and crew captured. But somehow, Julius got them out of it.

Reece wondered what Julius’ experience and background was. He had found no information on either him or Laina in the ship’s computer. In talking with some of the crew, he got the impression that they trusted and respected Julius and were strongly loyal to him. When Reece tried to dig deeper into what they knew about their Captain, they all just smiled and went silent. The only one they did not mind slinging sludge at was Laina—most of the crew did not seem to have too high an opinion of her.

“A dress with some money”, one of them had said to him. “If it wasn’t for Julius, I think that dress would have been ripped off a while ago.”

As for the crew themselves, they all had unstable pasts—criminal data records probably even longer than he and the pilots. Most coming from the fringes of the stellar nations. The Sea Wolf was their only home, and none of them had ever heard of anyone ever leaving after joining the crew.

It seemed odd to him that they would work to increase their share of the plunder, but never stop to enjoy it. Perhaps they knew no other life, or maybe they were simply afraid to leave the ship out of fear of being caught by government authorities. Or maybe this was the only home they wanted to live in anymore?

Reece saw a couple of mechanics working on one of the Z-40 Interceptors they were going to fly. He had researched what he could find on the Z-40s from the ship’s library, but it didn’t provide a lot of details. The fighters were triangularly shaped, with a visible canopy in the middle and three propulsion engines to the rear, at the corner of each apex. Its hull had a charcoal color, and various thruster holes could be seen all along its body for flight control. A deployable weapons bay hung under its belly and could deliver both anti-spacecraft missiles and strike bombs for larger targets. A pair of long accelerated proton cannons was positioned on both sides of the canopy, looking like lances from a medieval knight’s horse.

“You ever flown a Z-40?” one of the mechanics said to Reece as he approached. Reece noted his voice had an old country twang to it.

Reece shook his head, still looking over the fighter.

“Then you better take it easy with it first time out,” the man continued. “These horses will buck you off if you kick the spurs to ’em too hard.”

A large, burly man, the mechanic sported an unkempt beard and long, wild hair. He had beady blue eyes that stared back at Reece with an unassuming expression. For a uniform, he wore long mechanic fatigues drenched in black stains. Reece got the impression he would be someone that would be at home somewhere in the backwoods back on Earth.

He extended a dirty hand to Reece.

“I’m Ralph, Chief Mechanic for the flight deck. This fella back here

” Ralph said, pointing behind him, “

is Jay, my apprentice.”

Reece shook their hands. “I’m Reece.”

“Yeah, we know who you are,” Jay said as he rummaged through some tools.

“Everyone does, ” Ralph said with a broad smile. “There’s no secrets on this ship.”

Reece grimaced.

“Oh don’t worry,” Ralph continued as he turned back to work on the fighter. “We all get the drop on us when we first start. That’s the way it is, you know. Trial by flicker-fire if you know what I mean.”

Reece thought back to the way he and his recruits were suckered into stealing the cannon back on Mars. Then he recalled the way Julius tested them in the junk field.

“Well, I guess we’ve passed the trial, then?” Reece asked.

Ralph looked at him with that same broad smile. “Not yet. You need to get into the thick of a real fight before you get in with the crew and their Capt’n. But I wouldn’t worry, I reckon you won’t have to wait too long for that.”

“Oh? You talking about the next raid? Is it soon?”

Ralph turned back to his mechanical work, grabbing a tool Jay handed him.

“All I can say is that we have to arm these here fighters with live ammunition sometime in the next two days. So you best get some good practice in them. I don’t want to be doing all this work just so your asses get branded.”

So the fight would be soon. The realization of how soon made Reece take in a sudden breath. He had hoped for more time—more time to drill his pilots and learn the fighters. Looks like that wasn’t going to happen.

As he watched the two mechanics work on the fighter, he figured he had better become good friends with these two and learn what he could.

“What can you tell me about these Z-40s? I mean, what should we know?” Reece said.

Ralph stopped working and turned to look at Reece. “How much time you got?”

Reece looked at his wrist-link. “Two hours.”

Ralph chuckled. “I can probably teach you enough to get yourself killed in that amount of time. You sure you want to die so soon, rook?”

Reece ignored the “rook” comment. “Yes, I need to know.”

“Okay. Pull yourself up a chair and sit. I’ll try and give it to you all watered-down like.”

Ralph began with the controls of the Z-40, which were pretty much the same as the Z-33s that Reece was accustomed to flying. The weapons and shield ratings of the little fighter were fairly impressive, but when the instruction turned to the performance capabilities of the fighter, Reece felt a little disappointed, as the performance thresholds of the Z-40 seemed only slightly better than the Z-33.

“You pilots need to be more patient,” Ralph said. “There’s more to this here horse than meets the eye.”

He reached inside the cockpit and operated a control. The nose of the Z-40 extended forward to reveal a round device with hexagonal-shaped indentations around it. It extended less than half a meter in front of the fighter.

“This is the hummingbird boom,” Ralph said. “It is an inertial nullifier—it will put you into zero velocity in less than a second, no matter how fast yer kickin’ the spurs. That makes this steed able to do things nothing else can—if used properly!”

Ralph brought him near the cockpit to peer inside. He pointed out the latched button on the flight stick.

“That’s where you engage it,” Ralph said. “And that lever on your left, that’s the intensity modifier; it lets you control how quickly you wanna come to a stop and how to focus the inertial vector.”

Now Reece was impressed. The ability to come to a complete or partial stop, no matter how much velocity you had going, opened up so many possibilities.

“Now, listen,” Ralph said, waving his hand across Reece’s face. “I see that twinkle in yer eye, and yer probably thinkin’ how much you wanna use the boom. Oh yeah, man, I am going to kick some serious ass now with this boom. Oh yeah, I can’t wait to get into a scuffle with some Enforcers.”

Ralph waved his hand in Reece’s face again.

“Forget all that shit, hotshot. There’s a reason this thing is called a ‘boom,’ y’know, and a reason why they discontinued using it after the Z-40 build. Hotshot pilots, like yer lot, would try and put this boom into full-zero stoppage—and guess what that does when you got too much velocity going?”

“Boom?” Reece joked.

“That’s right, hotshot: boom! The steed can’t handle the stress of such a sudden stop.”

The mechanic continued to go over other significant facts of the craft, such as how it could outperform most terrestrial craft in both Martian and Earth atmospheres. This was an important detail since it meant their raids could technically be extended to include planetside engagements. The Z-40s also had an improved stealth shroud technology that allowed tight formations within the shroud; older craft did not have that luxury and were forced to converge into formation after coming out of the shroud.

Ralph went over the payload capabilities, as well, which included most of the weaponry one would expect. Reece noted one interesting tidbit, though: the weapons bay could be lowered without disturbing the stealth shroud.

“You can fire your first shot before they can see you,” Ralph said.

“Well, actually, point-five seconds after coming out of the shroud,” Jay said.

Ralph shot his apprentice a look. “Don’t correct me, junior—never correct me.”

“Yes, sir,” Jay said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re still pretty much invisible for that half second,” Ralph said. “It takes about a full second before a sensor computer can detect and identify your ship, and about two seconds before they could bring their shields up. So this here cavalry gives us a first-shot advantage, to strike them wherever it hurts the most.”

At that moment, Reece heard the clatter of feet behind him. He turned to see the other pilots show up, in full uniform and helmets in hand. Curiously, he did not see the junior pilots from Wolf Squadron.

“Looks like we finished this just in time,” Ralph said as he closed the engine lid. “All the fighters got duds loaded on them. Have fun, rook.”

Ralph and Jay put their tools away and left the deck.

“So, uh, where’s the rest of the pilots?” Taffy said.

“Any of you seen them?” Reece said.

They all shook their head.

“Rooks,” Tash said. “Maybe they’re too embarrassed to fly with the real pros.”

“Or maybe this is just another bullshit setup,” Taffy said.

Reece grimaced. The thought had crossed his mind as well.

Just then, footsteps echoed behind the group and a lone figure in full pilot uniform came walking out with a helmet on and tinted visor down. He passed the pilots without saying a word and boarded one of the Z-40s.

“Well, ain’t that charming,” Tash muttered.

The pilot’s Z-40 began to power up and a tow beam lifted it into position on the launch catapult.

“Load up pilots,” a voice sounded from the landing bay’s PA system. Reece recognized the voice as Murdock’s. “Let’s not waste any time.”

The pilots looked toward Reece. He waved them on and they began heading to the Z-40s.

“This one’s mine,” Tash said to Taffy as he raced ahead of him to a fighter.

“Why’s this one yours? They’re all the same!”

“I don’t know

’cause I like it.”

“Bastard,” Taffy said. “Get your own next time.”

Tash gave Taffy the finger and a smile.

Reece entered his craft and got himself comfortable. The sound of the new black leather creaking in the pilot seat excited him for some reason.

Just under the canopy, an empty cavernous control panel greeted him. He powered on the holographic system and a series of holographic dials and controls filled the empty panel.

The main flight control was a flight stick just in front of his lap. It had a series of buttons on the head of the stick within thumb reach, and the conspicuous latch for the hummingbird boom. There was also a throttle and Z-Axis control on the left armrest.

Reece powered up the engines and waited for the tow beam to put him into position on the catapult launcher.

Ralph’s voice came over the conference channel.

“Stand by for catapult launch, hotshots.”

“Comm-check, everyone call in,” Reece said. The pilots all checked in, except for Murdock.

“What about you, Murdock?” Reece said. “You with us or what?”

“This isn’t Murdock,” a voice came back.

Just then, Ralph’s voice came on again.

“Launching in sequence. Stand by for auto-launch.”

The internal lighting of his fighter turned from its neutral color to a bright blue, signifying that his ship was now under the control of the launch bay computer.

Reece looked ahead and could see the main doors open up. In their place was a blue, translucent energy field that held the atmosphere in. They would pass through the field and enter into space. He braced himself, knowing for the first few seconds he would relinquish total control of the craft to the launch computer.

The catapults activated, pushing the fighters two at a time toward the energy field.

Reece’s turn came and he felt his body press hard against the back of the seat. The launch bay raced past his view as his fighter was pushed by the inertial force of the catapults into space.

Once in space, the internal lighting flashed green, signifying he had control of the fighter again. He grabbed the flight stick and applied some propulsion. His Z-40 skidded into a turn, while dancing on its inertia—it felt good to be flying a real fighter for a change.

Reece maneuvered toward their designated rally point, where they would assume initial formation. Once all his pilots were in position, he activated the conference link.

“What’s going on?” Reece asked. “Where’s Murdock?”

The lone fighter broke off from the group and headed to the far side of the Sea Wolf.

“There’s been a change of plan,” the voice said.

Reece recognized the voice. “I thought I was going to lead,” Reece said, not able to hide his agitation.

No reply came as the lone fighter—Julius, Reece knew—shot off across the hull of the Sea Wolf, diving down at the end and disappearing from view.

“Everyone switch to a new encrypted channel,” Reece commanded.

He heard an audible chime as the six fighters linked their communications into a private conference channel.

“What’s going on, Reece?” Tash said.

Just then, a squadron of other fighters came into view and formed up with Julius. Reece counted six fighters total with Julius—six versus six. Reece had an idea of what was coming, and he was angry for not having had enough time to prepare his pilots for it.

Julius’ ship spun around, breaking away from his squadron. He headed toward them fast, guns blazing with blue streaks of accelerated protons. The lances of light struck Tash’s ship before he could evade. The beams impacted against his cockpit, but they did not ignite and left no mark. Julius pitched above his ship, narrowly missing him. Spinning back around, he dove in between two of the other fighters before turning to fly off and meet his own squadron.

“Simulated fire, gentlemen,” Julius’ voice came on. “The Sea Wolf will keep score and record your performance. Get ready.”

Julius’ fighter formed up with the other squadron, poised to attack.

“All right pilots,” Reece said. “Those are our bogeys. Execute shrapnel bloom on my command.”

The shrapnel bloom was a complicated maneuver they loved to use during their time with Stromond. It involved the detonation of a countermeasure to the center of the squadron. The explosion’s inertial force would cause the fighters to break away quickly and in a random direction. The brightness of the explosion would also hopefully blind the enemy’s sensors temporarily. Designed to confuse oncoming fighters, it was still difficult to predict what direction the fighters would fly off to when executed.

Reece readied the countermeasure and darkened the tints on his cockpit displays in preparation. Now he waited for Julius’ squadron to make their move. He did not have to wait long.

The squadron came up on them in a scorpion formation, with the fighters on their flank in a U shape. They shuffled so quickly into the formation that he could not even tell which one was Julius.

“On my mark,” Reece said.

The flanking fighters came into their weapons cone and unleashed a salvo. Their firing ports flashed and the streaks of simulated blue protons reached out toward Reece and his group. Reece did not have to dodge it, he accurately predicted the first salvo would miss them.

“Now!” he ordered.

******

Julius watched patiently as the two squadrons stared each other down, floating motionlessly above the bright duratanium steel of the Sea Wolf below them. Julius regarded his foes closely, waiting to see if they would make the first move. He realized, however, that to counter their move would be too easy for him. He needed to test their ability to counter his own before putting them through a harder test.

“Scorpion formation on my command,” he said. “Murdock, you take the lead. I will take the rear and pick off any that try to outflank you. If your numbers dwindle, I will jump in to aid.”

“Affirmative,” Murdock replied.

“Wolf Squadron, execute!” Julius commanded.

The six fighters assumed the scorpion formation, a pair of fighters taking up both flanks of the formation, with a single fighter in the middle. As Wolf Squadron closed in, they fired the first salvo against them.

Julius studied their reaction, only to see them sit idle as the initial volley narrowly missed them.

“Stinger to the left,” Murdock commanded.

This caused the squadron’s left flank to lead the attack, while the other fighters loosened their formation and slowed down to counter any move.

Just as the scorpion formation’s stinger complement fired their second volley, a bright explosion bloomed suddenly in the center of the enemy squadron. The lead fighters of Julius’ group, committed to their move, flew through the center of the explosion, which meant their instruments would be temporarily blinded. The rear complement slowed down, trying to regain acquisition of their targets.

Julius recovered quickly; he adjusted his scanners and could see the enemy squadron diving into Wolf Squadron’s lead fighters for a strafe run against them.

“Evasive maneuvers! Break!” Julius said.

It was too late, though. Two of the fighters in the stinger complement were picked off almost immediately from enemy fire coming from all directions, and the simulation program shut off their engines leaving them adrift. The rear complement, Murdock among them, tightened their formation and rushed to the aid of the remaining fighter.

Julius kicked in power to his engines and flew into the dogfight. He trailed himself behind Murdock’s wingman, waiting to engage any fighter that got behind him.

“Concentrate on reestablishing the initiative. I’ve got your tail covered,” Julius said.

Murdock and his wingman managed to position themselves behind two of the enemy fighters. They spun around in a wild turning melee, each trying to shake off the pursuers and get themselves into a position to take the offensive.

Julius saw a pair of fighters diving in from his nine o’clock position, trying to strafe his lead fighters. He broke away from Murdock’s tail and rose up to meet the enemy fighters. He fired his engines at full burn, aiming the nose of his ship toward the projected course of his two foes and then cut his engines off. His fighter skidded across their path, then he pitched the nose of his fighter toward them, firing at them as he strafed across their view.

The blue energy sprayed across the path of both fighters. It scored multiple hits on one of the fighters, knocking it out of the game and narrowly missing the other.

The remaining fighter, realizing his vulnerability, disengaged from Murdock and tried to turn toward Julius. By that time, however, Julius fired his engines again and skidded himself into position behind him.

Another wild turning melee ensued, with Julius sporadically firing his cannons across his foe’s trajectory. Julius used the firing to dissuade his opponent from committing himself to a wider turn. Eventually, Julius got him into a predictable turning pattern and fired an anticipatory volley that scored against his foe. Another one knocked out of the game; it was three versus three now.

Julius turned his attention to his other two fighters. Murdock and his wingman managed to take down another enemy. He rushed to join them, but as he closed in, Murdock’s wingman was picked off, leaving just Murdock and him against the other two. Julius managed to get himself into position on Murdock’s wing.

“Two left,” Murdock said.

“It will be easier now,” Julius said. “Let’s break apart and lure them into an Evil Twin Maneuver.”

The two fighters broke away in separate directions, for a maneuver designed to get a single fighter on each of their tails. The enemy fighters did not initially fall for it, trying instead to keep their advantage and pairing up against Murdock.

“I got two on me,” Murdock said. “Vectoring toward you,” Murdock said.

Julius pitched his fighter back toward Murdock, both of them heading toward each other at high speed.

“Break high as I engage,” Julius said. “I’ll fire at the trailing fighter.”

The three fighters headed toward Julius in an unwitting collision course. As the fighters met, Murdock pitched himself high and Julius fired just under Murdock’s belly, catching the lead pursuer—but the trailing fighter fired his own volley, catching Murdock as he completed his upward arc. Julius countered with his own volley, but the trailing fighter dove down and evaded it.

Julius tried to pursue, but his inertia caused him to overshoot his foe. His opponent turned inside his arc easily, positioning himself directly behind him for a low deflection shot.

Realizing his vulnerability, Julius shut off his engines and rotated his craft’s nose to face his enemy. He sprayed the dark space ahead of his target with accelerated protons, causing his opponent to go on the defensive. In a carefully timed maneuver, Julius rotated his nose 180 degrees and ignited his engines briefly, then spun around again to fire cannons at his foe. He repeated the maneuver several more times until he had enough velocity and distance to get out of his enemy’s weapons cone.

Julius made a wide turn, noticing for the first time how close he was to one of the debris field walls. Using this to his advantage, he spun his ship toward the wall and accelerated, leading his opponent through a radical series of turns. He then darted in the opposite direction of the turning melee, forcing his opponent to break away or face impacting with the debris wall.

Julius reversed his course, intercepting his retreating opponent and putting himself into range for a low deflection shot. He was about to fire when his foe executed an impressive skidding turn that caused Julius to lose his shot. Julius tried to match his foe’s maneuver, but found that his own ship simply could not keep up with the high-turn radius.

The two fighters engaged in a tight turning match, with both of them doing dramatic zigzag maneuvers, countering each other’s attempts to take the offensive with deft speed and precision. Julius shot ahead of his foe, then cut his engines off to strafe him, but the shots skidded off into space as his opponent countered the move with one of his own that caused Julius to go on the defensive.

Julius dodged the incoming fire and put his engines into full acceleration to shoot him past his foe. The two fighters separated again, putting some distance between them and then stabilizing to a halt. They spun around to face each other, ready to counter the other’s move—instead, they thrustered to a slow stop.

Julius stared at his opponent, the debris field stretching out behind him in the distance.

“That was some good flying, pilot,” Julius said into a broadcast channel. “Want to call it a draw?”

“Why? Afraid of losing in front of the men?” came the reply. It was Reece.

“So it was you,” Julius said. “I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to replace you with the surviving pilot.”

“Why do you keep stalling? Let’s finish this.”

“All right, pilot,” Julius said. “Your move.”

Without any apparent hesitation, Reece’s fighter darted out straight toward him. The aggressor sprayed cannon fire at him. Julius put his propulsion to full acceleration, while activating his hummingbird boom at the same time. By carefully applying the right vector, Julius’ fighter whipped away from its position, easily dodging the incoming fire.

Reece turned toward Julius, pressing forward with relentless cannon fire.

Julius released the hummingbird’s inertial hold, and let his fighter skid away, evading the fire again. He then reoriented his fighter straight toward Reece, and the two headed toward each other on a collision course.

Just as the two fighters looked as if they were going to collide, a flash of light emerged from the cone of Julius’ fighter—the hummingbird boom. It pitched forward while elevating the ship above him.

From that advantageous position, he fired his cannons, catching Reece with multiple bursts across his dorsal hull. Reece’s engines went out and his fighter automatically stabilized to a standstill.

“Good fight,” Julius said.

“That wasn’t fair,” Reece responded, obviously angered. “We didn’t have any time to learn the hummingbird.”

“You fought well enough. You need to master the basic techniques before you start playing with something as advanced as the boom.”

“Still wasn’t a fair test,” Reece said.

“It wasn’t supposed to be a fair test. Your opponent is not going to care if the odds are even. Plan on the odds always being against you, and you will succeed. Murdock, reactivate all their engines. All fighters, return to the Sea Wolf.”

“Captain—permission for me and the pilots to keep flying for a bit?” Reece’s voice came back.

Julius grinned at his new pilots’ determination.

“Very well, Reece. You and your boys can keep flying for a bit. I’d caution you against using the boom—I don’t want to be down any fighters at the end of the day. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” Reece said, then muttered something.

“Everyone else, back to the ship,” Julius said.

******

Julius stripped out of his flight suit before heading to Laina’s quarters. They were going to go over the final preparations for their next raid, and later he would meet with Reece to go over his new role. The meeting also had another importance: it might be the last of such types of meetings between him and Laina.

He had first thought Laina’s “retirement” announcement to be folly, but he witnessed a great deal of activity from Laina as she moved her assets out of her quarters, presumably to a holding area prior to her disembarking for good. It began to dawn on Julius that his longtime business partner may really be leaving—and it really annoyed him. How he was going to find a replacement?

Laina had always been the one who looked at the big picture of their operation, always seeing beyond today and planning ahead, making critical contacts with others “in the business,” and even those in government and the corporations.

The latter Julius did not have the stomach for; he always felt destructive when dealing with corporate types. Their holier-than-thou pomp made him sick enough to want to reach for his pistol and shoot rather than talk. These scum had their own lingo, their own inside jokes. Laina was always able to fool them into thinking she was one of their own, that pretty smile of hers keeping their wits at bay. Julius could never do that, and now he had to find a way to do it alone—without Laina.

He walked into Laina’s quarters, noting immediately the absence of most of the artwork and other exotic curiosities. Boxes were stacked along the walls, some filled, and some still open to accept more junk. The room was as bare as he had ever seen it.

Laina sat waiting for him at a corner table with a drink in her hand. She pulled out another glass and offered it to Julius. He stopped wondering if she had a drinking problem long ago: it was obvious she was a lush. How she was able to keep her figure with all that drinking was beyond him.

“No, thanks,” he said. “I want to have my wits in the morning.”

“Suit yourself,” Laina said.

She stared intently at a holographic terminal that sat in front of her. The hologram floating over it displayed some information on it that she rotated for Julius to see.

“The pickings are rather slim,” Laina said. “Jared was unable to get anything useful from his usual source. I had to get this from my contact instead.”

Julius sat at the table, looking over the data. The list contained cargo flight information for ships leaving or entering Mars orbit in two days. The actual list of flight schedules was rather long, but Laina had narrowed it down to merchandise that was sellable, also filtering out anything that would be flying during peak traffic times. In the end, they only had three candidates.

“Do you think we should reschedule for a better opportunity?” Julius asked.

“No,” Laina said. “I’ve already made a lot of arrangements for myself; I don’t want to have to make changes to them—I can’t.”

“All right,” Julius said, “then it’s between unrefined silver, pleasure discs, or Vigila Weed. It’s a business decision, so you decide.”

Laina took a sip of her drink before speaking:

“Vigila Weed means I have to deal with the pharmaceutical companies, and it takes forever to get them to agree on price; and I don’t have time for that right now.

“Von Haufsberg would buy the pleasure discs, but the brand is what sells, and we don’t know what brand is actually going to be on that cargo. Besides, I don’t want to lose two days of sleep trying to figure out how much to price an off-brand pleasure disc.”

Laina sighed, then took another drink before continuing: “Unrefined silver is a safe bet. We’ve sold silver to Haufsberg before and we don’t have any other silver in the cargo hold, so we won’t get squeezed for a volume discount.”

“So it’s settled then,” Julius said. “Silver it is.” He slapped his hands on his thighs. “I guess I better go inform our lead pilot that he’s been promoted.”

“Already?” Laina asked, giving him a sour look.

“Yes. They did well, better than I expected. Reece showed good command potential. Even though we bested them, it was a close fight—it came down to just me and Reece in the end.”

“Are you sure it’s wise to put one of Stromond’s rejects in charge of Wolf Squadron so quickly?”

“He’s ready—and we need to put our existing pilots where they belong. This ship is a skeleton and the crew will give it some needed flesh.”

“You’re so quick to entrust such a heavy responsibility to him. You know, all it takes is one screw-up out there and we’re all done in.” She slammed her drink on the table. “Not just these unproven rejects we inherited—all of us.”

“Sometimes people just need an opportunity to prove themselves. Reece deserves that opportunity.”

“It doesn’t sit well with me—”

“I don’t care that it doesn’t—it’s my decision.”

She gave him a cold stare as she spun the ice in her drink.

“Fine,” she said. “Don’t listen to me, as usual

not my problem anymore. Perhaps you’ll give your new partner’s opinions more credence.”

“New partner?” Julius asked.

“Von Haufsberg of course,” she said before taking a sip. “He would love to fill my shoes—even if they aren’t as pretty. He will make the business side of this much easier for you.”

“Yes, by stealing me blind.”

“Oh, you can count on that,” Laina said. “But at least you know what to expect from him. He has no other ambitions and won’t meddle. You should give him the opportunity

unless

maybe, you’d like to retire as well?”

Julius briefly imagined himself on a secluded offworld resort, with a golf course, horseback riding, skiing, booze, and no schedule. Servants would bring him food and drink, and pretty women would sit and wait at his disposal. Other rich assholes would attempt to exchange casual conversation with him and share in their own personal achievements, trying to drag out of him how he obtained his own wealth. Was it even possible for him to mingle with those people?

“Impossible,” Julius said. “That’s not in my future. You know, you should really consider whether you could keep up that facade of belonging among those pompous asses.”

Laina gave him a surprised look. “Who said I was going to mingle with anybody? I’m buying some secluded land on Earth. I’ll have thousands of acres of beachfront solitude. No more of this bullshit for me. I want some peace, quiet

and a place for my artwork.”

“How long would that last? You’ll be bored stiff in a matter of weeks. You enjoy the excitement of this venture of ours—you know it. You’ll be back.”

“Julius. You really need to accept that I’m leaving. I can find my own personal peace outside of this game of ours. It’s what I really want. It’s too bad you won’t give it a try. I think one day you will wise up, though.”

“Peace? Where is there peace? I’m not going to hide on some far-off island somewhere, trying to escape from the reality of what really exists in the universe. Peace is an illusion. Just like those offworld resorts, just like that beachfront property you’ll be living at. You can only shield yourself from the universe for so long, Laina.”

“Always the realist,” Laina said, shaking her head. “You’d spoil even the most romantic of vacations. I mean, don’t you ever dream? Or do these small pickings really excite you that much? Pleasure discs, silver ore, Vigila Weed

boy, we’ve really made our mark on the universe, haven’t we?”

“My feet are planted on the deck, Laina. Reality is where we live,” he said, motioning around them. “And reality is not a beautiful, orderly painting—it’s chaos. There is no grand plan for you, me, or anyone else. You have to make your own future in the real universe.”

Laina shrugged. “Maybe one day you’ll think differently. Just try not to get yourself killed before then.”

“I’ve managed for over a century. I wouldn’t worry.”

She stood up and grabbed an empty box, looking around apparently searching for something to put inside it.

“Tomorrow we’ll be meeting,” Julius said, “to formulate an attack plan for the convoy—you’re invited of course.”

“No, thanks,” she said, “I still have some other details I need to attend to. Perhaps you can have your new lead reject pilot help with that. I copied the convoy flight data to your quarters, so you have all you need from me.”

“I suppose after this is over I’ll have to drop you off on Earth?”

“Not all the way,” Laina said. “I’ve made arrangements for safe passage from Deimos-1 to Earth. You just need to get me that far and I’ll be off this flying hubcap for good.”

Julius sat for a moment, watching her inspect items as she placed them in the box. One corner of the room already had a stack of sealed boxes. He hadn’t been sure how serious she was before, but now she seemed intent on getting her things packed—perhaps she was really leaving this time.

“Well, see you later then,” Julius said.

“Of course,” Laina said somewhat absently, as she continued to pack.

CHAPTER 13: MYSTERIOUS CONTACT

Dagiri stared intently at the holographic display over his desk. It showed production and inventory levels of Elation; both were disappointing figures. Even though production was running at barely adequate levels, inventory levels remained high.

He thumbed a holographic button, flipping the image to show sales output in conjunction with inventory levels across a calculated line graph. As the inventory levels climbed, the sales line dipped sharply. Demand was simply too low.

Even with the evident slowdown and inefficiencies from his production group, they still managed to trudge their way into an inventory surplus. Their incompetence would have been dealt with if it were not for that fact that the slowdown in production would have been necessary with the dip in sales, even if he did not order such a slowdown.

Peripherally, he could see someone enter his office. He glared at the figure of the production manager’s assistant as he dared enter his office unannounced and walk over to him.

The wiry-looking idiot stood over Dagiri’s desk stiffly, holding a data disc that he laid down. The man waited to be acknowledged, with a somewhat smug expression. Apparently, he didn’t know zip about Dagiri.

“What are you?” Dagiri said.

The man blinked. “What? What do you mean, sir?”

“I said

” Dagiri stood up, pulling a flicker pistol invisibly from his jacket. “What are you?”

The assistant glanced at the pistol in his hand and began to tremble.

“I’m, uh, the assistant manager of production, sir!”

“No!” Dagiri shouted. “Wrong!”

Dagiri aimed the pistol at him and fired. A bolt of energy flashed, lighting the room for an instant. A bang followed by a hiss sounded as the assistant dropped to the floor, clutching his right leg and yelling in pain. A swirl of smoke rose up from the burn wound in his shin.

“You are nothing but furniture!” Dagiri yelled, glowering over him. “You do not belong in my office! You are not worthy enough to decorate my sight! You are of inferior construction, cheaply made, and must be moved to the appropriate area!”

At this point, the imposing figure of Hargo stood at the doorway surveying the scene. He cast a questioning look at Dagiri.

“Hargo, good timing,” Dagiri said. “I want you to take this piece of furniture and hang it on the wall of the production facility. It will stay there for a few days so that everyone can gaze upon it. After which, if it is still breathing, it can return to do its work.”

Hargo moved toward the hysterical figure on the floor without saying a word. He picked him up by the leg and dragged him out of the office kicking and screaming.

At this point, Steve now stood at the doorway. Dagiri could see a nervous look prevalent on his face.

“I hope you have good news, Steve,” Dagiri said, waving the gun in his hand. “It would not be very good timing otherwise.”

Steve stepped into the room with a digital clipboard in his hand. He handed it to Dagiri.

“It is good news, sir,” Steve said. “The hackers have broken down the security system housing the A.I. machine. Apparently, an order has already been given to have the machine moved from Earth to right here, sir—Mars. It will be moved in two days.”

Dagiri let himself relax a bit as he hid the pistol back inside his jacket.

“This is good news, indeed. What arrangements have you made?”

“I’ve obtained the exact course plots from the hackers and relayed them to Hargo. The convoy was supposed to be heavily guarded by a group of scout ships. However, the hackers have arranged it so the two cargo ships will only have three light scout escorts. Once the convoy drops into the Martian space vicinity, we will attack it and be off with the cargo before Enforcement ever shows up.”

“Very good,” Dagiri said. “You will have redeemed yourself if you can pull this off. Make sure that Hargo and his men are adequately equipped. I know it’s only three escort ships, but I don’t want any surprises. You’ve proven yourself useful. Now go.”

Steve fled the room, closing the office door behind him.

Dagiri looked around the office. He felt a reverberation from the oak wood colored walls; the paintings seemed to vibrate. He looked down toward the scale model of Mars in the center of the office; it too seemed to focus in and out, vibrating with the rest of the room.

He heard laughter around him; he whirled around the room trying to pinpoint it. He could see the faces in the wall staring at him—they were the corporate bosses. They ridiculed him, teased him, laughed at him. Reveling in their own success, they mocked him—mocked his underworld status.

Dagiri closed his eyes and covered his ears, trying to silence them. Instead, they closed in around him—he could feel their breath on him.

Feeling ready to snap, Dagiri rushed to his desk and grabbed the Elation charge. He slapped it to the side of his neck and let the power of the drug seep in. The hiss from the charge seemed to last forever and echo through his mind. The room stopped vibrating, and his senses sharpened again. The laughter stopped, the faces disappeared.

The drug satisfied his needs

for now, but all it did was delay the inevitable. He knew the rage inside him was building and he needed to succeed in order to calm it permanently. He would silence the laughter of the corporate bosses once and for all, but only with assured success.

******

Julius left Laina’s quarters with somber feelings—mixed with anxiety. He realized his operation was going through a major transition. Not only was he going to lose Laina, but he had to rush the new pilots up to the position of primary assault wing. Although he felt confidence in that decision, he could not help but begin feeling the burden of weight on his shoulders of trying to keep the whole operation together by himself.

He arrived at Reece’s quarters only to find nobody home. He went to an adjacent pilot’s quarters and rang the buzzer. The door to the room opened and he found one of the new pilots greeting him with a cigar in his mouth.

“Yes, sir,” he said, puffing a plume of smoke in his direction.

The pilot had an audible accent, sounding like old Irish. His eyes squinted as the light from the hallway penetrated the darkness of his room. The dark circles under his eyes told the story of a man who probably stayed up a bit too late.

“Mac, right?” Julius asked.

“Yes, that’s me, sir,” Mac said.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, sir. I never sleep. Insomnia

had it all my life,” Mac said while rubbing his eyes.

“That was a nice maneuver you and Murdock played at the end. Me and Reece were stupid for falling for it, though.”

“Well, I’m hoping the enemy is at least as dumb as your lot.”

“Surely,” Mac said, apparently ignoring or not getting the sarcasm.

“Where’s Reece?”

“Oh, I heard him say something about getting a stiff drink. Not sure where on this boat you could find one of those

I told him to share me the whereabouts of such booty though.”

“Only one place to get that. As you were, pilot,” Julius said.

“Oh wait lad, err Captain I mean,” Mac said, stopping Julius. “Try not to be too hard on Reece when you see him. He tends to take this leadership thing a bit on the hard side.”

“I’m not going to admonish him, pilot—actually, quite the opposite. Try and get some rest; you’ll need it soon.”

Julius headed to the only place that booze would be available: the observation lounge. He stepped out of the elevator and walked a short distance into the deck before spotting Reece staring out into space; he noted his half-filled drink sitting at a nearby table.

“Hello, pilot,” Julius said.

Reece nodded a silent greeting.

“You and the pilots did well today. I was impressed at how well you did without any preparation.”

Reece turned to look at him with a perplexed look. “You know, you always seem to tell me the opposite of what I expect. You seem to think we do well, even though we almost get caught by Martian Guardians or get our tails singed by you and your pilots. I get the feeling you would give a medal to a dead man over the one that survived.”

“There is some merit to that,” Julius said. “The man that didn’t die already received the reward of survival. The medal on the dead man is there to pay tribute to his surviving kin, nothing else. But I didn’t come here to philosophize or admonish you. I think you and the pilots are ready to take permanent positions as the primary assault wing of our operation. I’m moving you to an officer’s rank of lieutenant, where you will be the leader of our assault wing. Your wing will be the new Wolf Squadron.”

“But

I

” Reece struggled then brightened. “Thank you, sir. What about the rest of your squadron—am I commanding them as well?”

“The existing pilots are needed on the ship. They have duty stations here that need to be filled, and we are stretched pretty thin, so I can’t afford to lose them.”

“Oh. So we’re being promoted because we’re a little more expendable, eh?”

“No, Reece. I need a permanent assault wing. You guys have proven yourselves as likely better pilots than what I have. Everyone on this ship is going to be doing the duties they are best at. Murdock and his pilots are better as engineers and damage-control specialists. I need you guys in the role you are best at. Unless of course you feel you and the men are better at something else?”

“No

no, of course not. I just didn’t

” His voice trailed off.

“Then congratulations, Lieutenant. Now, we need to go over our next mission. We have an assault planned in two days on a convoy leaving Martian orbit. We expect only three scout escorts and it will be off-peak hours, so it should be a milk run for you. I copied to your quarters all the details we have on the convoy. I want you to formulate a plan of attack and have it for me ready to review in the morning. Include the Sea Wolf as an available resource in your plan, but I expect you and the pilots to do most of the work. I don’t want any questions tonight; bring them to me in the morning. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain.” Reece saluted.

Julius returned the salute. “On your way then, you have a lot to plan.”

******

In the darkness of her quarters on the night of the Sea Wolf’s planned raid, Laina seemed to be rocking. She felt a sensation of dizziness and confusion. She focused her vision on anything she could discern in the darkness, but all she could see were those dim circles that materialized in the blackness.

To Laina, the rocking felt as if she were adrift on the ocean. The sensation brought back some brief images of her last time on Earth, traveling the seas—a very, very long time ago. A time when she was actually free to walk the city, visit the pubs, interact with her friends and family, and even sail the oceans. A time when she did not have to look over her shoulder and wonder if the friends she confided in were really out to kill her. A time when she was an honorable member of society, and not a criminal.

But the sensation could not be real—she was on a spaceship, not the ocean. It was a lucid dream perhaps

or the whiskey she drank before collapsing into bed.

Then Laina realized she was on her side—and it was uncomfortable, as she preferred her to lie on her back. Her mind commanded her body to turn over, but it did not respond. As she shut her eyes, sudden panic filled her as she realized that she could not move her limbs—was she paralyzed?

She opened her eyes. The darkness had been replaced by a world engulfed in bright light and flame. Within the light she could see debris of twisted metal floating, motionless as if frozen. She tried to tilt her head to get a better view, but only her eyes responded to her will. Using her limited view of her surroundings, she tried to take in the scene.

Laina realized that the brightness was from a fire or explosion that engulfed everything around her. But the debris and fire should have been moving—instead all of it was paused in mid-motion. Her vision drifted to the wall where most of her paintings had hung, but she saw only flames.

A few seconds later, she began to feel her chin involuntarily tilt downward and her back arch forward very slowly. To her horror, she could see debris and fire piercing through her body—yet she felt no pain.

With the new view, she got to witness the macabre scene of her death. The fire charred the flesh almost completely off her body, to reveal blackened bone underneath.

In that moment, Laina knew she was dying and that these would be the last thoughts she would have. It was all surreal to her—she did not try to figure out what happened in those last moments, nor why. She would accept her fate.

Her thoughts instead reached out to the husband she had lost. She pictured them together, as they were in those happy years: smiling, dancing and laughing together. It brought a sense of peace over her as she waited for the inevitable silencing of her death throes, but the scene would not end.

Laina began to realize that that although everything seemed completely still, the scene around her in fact did creep along slowly, as if through a slow-motion playback of a movie.

Her body began to tilt slowly on its own, allowing her a better view of everything. The flames and debris began to creep away from her. She noticed that the entire scene lacked any color; everything was black and white and seemed to lack any fine details. It was as if the entire thing was a very poor quality video being played back to her.

As the experience continued, she could see the fire retreat away from her and the debris disappear into the walls. When the debris and fire finally vanished, she found that she was in her quarters.

The feeling in her body returned and she could move her limbs again. She looked down and could see no burns, no exposed bone, no fire consuming her—she was in her nightclothes unharmed.

Suddenly, everything went dark and she was out in a black space, with nothing around her at all. She floated aimlessly in the black void, finally able to move her limbs. Swimming around in it, she attempted to gain some control over the situation.

Laina looked into the black silence and wondered if, perhaps, all those missed opportunities to go to church with her family were a mistake—was this hell

or purgatory?

She tried to focus her sight on something—anything—near or distant, which could define exactly where she was. As hard as she tried, she saw nothing. Just Laina alone in the dark

forever. To be haunted by her thoughts, her regrets. Eventually, she knew, these thoughts would devolve from sane coherence to insanity. She would lose her mind, alone, in the dark

forever. This would indeed be hell.

“Is this the end?” Laina said aloud.

To her surprise, a voice—a female voice—came back to answer her: “Yes, in a manner of speaking,” the voice said. “But not the end you are referring to.”

“So

am I dead?”

“You were dead a moment ago,” she said. “But at this particular moment, you are sleeping in your quarters.”

Just then, she could see her surroundings slowly change. Stars began to materialize, a nearby star gave off a bright luminescence, and a hazy gray planet began to form against the backdrop of space. Floating nearby she could make out the metallic, disc-like shape of the Sea Wolf. Within the cracks of its hull, she could see bright ignitions of flame erupt and vent out into space.

A small fleet of warships encircled the Sea Wolf, pelting her with munitions. They looked like they could have been Enforcement ships.

Closer to the planet, she could make out the remnants of a small ship convoy, with a group of smaller attack fighters engaged in a melee of their own. Oddly, she noticed that again everything lacked any color whatsoever; everything was still black and white.

“What is this?” Laina said.

“It is a decoding of space-time, as it will conclude in one hour and twenty minutes. I apologize for your death, I had to play it back for you at the end of your computation.”

“Death? That was real? I really died?”

“If this stream of events is allowed to continue, then that would be the conclusion.”

“Who are you? How are you able to do this? And why?”

“I know you have many questions. Unfortunately, I do not have many coherent answers. In fact, your linear thoughts might bring some order to the chaos of non-connected realities that I see.

“To answer your first question, I do not actually have a proper human name, but as I interact with humans I have come to be called Chorus. I reproduced these events by latching onto the relevant stream of realities within the entropy that formed my own end. It brought me to you in this snapshot of now.

“And the last question, why: I do not have enough time to answer that one completely. Let us just say that our destinies have intertwined and it is critical that we interact to preserve the future. What is your name this time?”

“This time? Uhh, my name is Laina.”

“Hello, Laina,” Chorus said. “I am sorry for this, but your future is part of a set of events that could shape the future of many things, the least of which is your death and mine.

“As I said I do not have much time, so you must listen carefully. If this set of events were left to unfold on their current inertia, you will wake up in one hour, in your quarters, just in time to watch yourself die as your ship is annihilated. However, I have introduced a calculation of my own into this entropic soup that will allow you to wake up minutes before this event.

“I do not know precisely how much time you will have, but once you wake up, you must not engage the convoy until after the other pirates have taken the cargo. If you do not do this, you and your crew will die; and I will be forced to destroy everything and repeat the loop.

“This is all you need to know for now. I hope that this time you succeed.”

“What? Wait a minute,” Laina said. “What do you mean this time? What pirates? What the hell are you?”

The scene around her began to move in reverse. The fires around the Sea Wolf subsided; the ships encircling her disappeared into the stealth shroud. The destroyed convoy was intact and moving backward along its course.

“I am releasing you to the present,” Chorus said. “If all goes well, we will soon meet.”

The entire scene went dark and Laina’s excited thoughts and questions became hazy. Before losing consciousness, the voice reverberated into her thoughts.

The voice was

familiar to her—someone from a long time ago, it seemed. But before she could make the connection, she began to lose her lucidity. Then Laina fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

CHAPTER 14: BAD LUCK

Julius did not understand why he felt the way he did. He should have felt anxious, focused, excited before the battle ahead.

Instead, he felt lethargic, distracted, and uninterested—his mind still back in Laina’s quarters debating whether their partnership was really ending.

They had come a long way in their time together, carving a nice chunk of luxury out of the underworld for themselves. They built up the ship, the crew, and their coffers to the point where the fight was no longer about building up the wealth; it was simply for the sake of the fight.

That should have been enough, and it was for a while, but not anymore. The fight no longer had the sweet taste it once did; it was now as bland as the military rations he had to eat back in the war.

He and Reece had finished the planning session for the mission. He let Reece take the lead, without offering much input himself. Reece then gave the briefing to the pilots and the bridge crew. He did a good job of it, better than expected.

Still, Julius should have critiqued the whole thing; he should have pointed out the minor flaws and suggested some modifications. Instead, he laid back and offered little.

Standing in his quarters, Julius realized that he was utterly bored by the very thing that had always excited and driven him. What was he going to do without that feeling? He was a criminal—albeit, a rich one. But even with all the wealth he held, it could not buy the one thing he truly sought: a purpose.

He glanced for a moment at his collection of ancient weapons hanging on the wall. The samurai sword caught his eye. He began to think back to the ancient samurais and their practice of ritual suicide: seppuku. It was supposed to be done to keep one’s honor, and avoid capture by the enemy. Swallowing hard, Julius considered the ritual for himself for a moment, maybe as a way of avoiding his own enemy. It did seem like an honorable way to die.

Blinking, he shook it off. What the hell was he thinking? He’d find a way to fulfill his life, even if it meant blowing the galaxy apart in the process.

Julius left his quarters and made his way up to the bridge. He ignored the fact that he, once again, had to key in the bridge destination in the elevator instead of speaking to it.

Yes, defects in a very old ship, but it gave the Sea Wolf character. Scarred, hard around the edges, few amenities—the personification of himself.

The doors opened and he trekked across the bridge to his command module. He glanced around at the faces of the crew. They looked almost as bored as he felt.

He resisted the urge of ordering the Sea Wolf to smash into the nearest asteroid to liven things up.

“Status?” he queried, then sighed.

“Gravity amps are fully charged and ready to engage,” Jessen reported.

Just then, he heard the bridge doors open and close, and he recognized Laina’s footsteps. He hoped she had slept off her latest alcohol binge—he did not want to embarrass her in front of the crew.

He waited for Laina to sit in her sub-command module before giving the order to jump. The gravity amplifiers affected one’s equilibrium and it would not have been good to have Laina fall on her ass on the bridge floor.

“Ready to jump to Martian system at your command, sir,” Jessen said.

Laina took to the sub-command module, an unusual expression evident on her face. She did not seem inebriated, but was definitely eager to say something. It would have to wait, whatever it was.

“Execute,” Julius said.

Everyone on the bridge braced themselves. Then came a sudden sinking feeling, like Julius plummeted in freefall. It pushed down on him, from the inside, as if an invisible force had its hands wrapped around his innards and was dragging them down to his feet.

His vision became blurred for a moment, and the lights dimmed all over the bridge. A sudden electrical snap resounded throughout the bridge as the gravity amplifiers completed their job and expended their energy.

The bridge lights turned from green to a dark blue, signaling the stellar jump was complete and they were in the stealth shroud.

“Journey complete. We are in the stealth shroud in the Martian system. Gravity amps are now recharging,” Jessen said.

“Tactical analysis,” Julius said.

“No nearby threats,” Ramey said. “If our information is correct, the convoy should be arriving any moment.”

Julius pressed a button on his command module. “Reece, get your squadron into position. Hold for my order before engaging.”

“Affirmative, sir,” Reece’s voice came back.

“We need to talk,” Laina said.

Julius glanced over at her. For the first time, he noticed that her face looked pale and she was still wearing her sleeping garments. He slit his eyes at her. Laina never came to the bridge looking like that.

“We have a few minutes,” Julius said.

Laina looked around, then shook her head. “Not here,” she whispered.

Julius shook his head. “No. I am not leaving the bridge right now. Whatever it is will just have to wait, then.”

Laina tilted her head and raised an eyebrow—her usual expression of annoyance. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

Julius kept his eyes on the main viewscreen. After a few minutes, he could see the target designators appear signaling the arrival of the convoy.

“They’re here,” Ramey said. “Applying tactical plan to screen.”

The screen now showed the course plot of the convoy in relation to their position, Wolf Squadron’s position, and the expected formation of the battle line after engagement.

The plan was a basic pincer maneuver, designed to overwhelm the enemy at all fronts with a clear line of escape that would be availed once the cargo was extracted. It was a low-risk engagement; the convoy was only expected to have three scout escorts.

The convoy would signal that everything was clear, request permission to land from Martian Traffic Control and begin its move in toward the Martian atmosphere. This is when Wolf Squadron would make its initial attack.

“Wolf Squadron is in position, sir,” Garval reported. “Their stealth is uncompromised.”

“As is ours,” Jessen added.

“Sir, I am picking up the confirmation exchange between the convoy and Mars,” Jared said. “They have been cleared.”

Julius could see the convoy begin to creep into Martian orbit. The warfare status display for the ship showed a state of readiness for all shields and armaments. Everything looked good, and the timer showed another ten minutes before the convoy was in strike position. He stood up and motioned for Laina to follow him.

“We have a few minutes, Laina,” he said. “But I’m not going all the way to your quarters.”

He stepped into the bridge elevators, with Laina following behind him. Julius pressed a button on the panel and the doors shut.

“This is as private as it’s going to be, “ Julius said.

“This is fine. I just don’t want the crew to hear this. They think I’m crazy enough.”

“Clearly.” He glanced down at her sleeping garments. “But if your words start slurring or you start getting inappropriate, I’m going to send you to your quarters.”

She gave him a disgusted look. “Fuck you!” She slapped his chest hard. “I’m not drunk, Julius! And I’d have to be pretty damn drunk for that! But you probably are going to think I’m crazy after I tell you this.”

Julius raised an eyebrow. “Spit it out already. We don’t have much time.”

“Okay. A little while ago, I had a conversation with someone

a contact. She told me that there would be a problem with this convoy, and we have to be careful how we handle it.”

“A contact? Who is she?”

“I can’t get into that now,” Laina said. “All I can tell you is there is another pirate organization that is going to attack the same convoy at the same time as us. And we have to let them complete the attack before we reveal ourselves.”

Julius crossed his arms. “And how legitimate is this contact? One of Von Haufsberg’s cronies?”

Laina shook her head. “No, no. It’s not him. It’s

it’s complicated. I can’t get into it now, we don’t have the time. You simply have to trust me! If you don’t do this, the Sea Wolf will be destroyed!”

Julius stared at her and tried to decipher what Laina was hiding. It was clearly not the alcohol talking. She was serious about this and believed in what she was saying. Laina never got involved in the military aspects of their operation; for her to do so now was not only out of character, but downright alarming.

“Okay, Laina. I will take it under advisement.”

“Advisement? What hell does that mean?”

Julius put out his hand to quiet her. “Relax! I will wait long enough to ascertain the threat. I will not jeopardize the operation. Understood?”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Fine. Let’s get back to the bridge.”

Julius pushed the button on the panel to open the bridge doors, but nothing happened. He pressed it again and still nothing.

“What is it this time?” Laina said.

“It’s not working!” Julius said, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic.

He kept pressing buttons on the panel, but nothing happened. He yelled out in hopes they would hear him on the other side. After a brief moment, he heard Jared’s voice.

“Sir? Are you stuck?” he said.

“Yes! Open these doors now!” Julius said.

There was a pause then his voice came back again.

“It’s stuck from this side too, sir. I’ll try and fix the panel from here, but it will take some time.”

Julius felt his face grow hot. “Do whatever you have to, damn it!”

They waited for what seemed like minutes before Jared’s voice came back again: “Sir, I don’t know if I can do this in time. We may have to call off the attack; they are going to be in position in seconds!”

“No!” Laina said. “You can’t call it off! This is important, we need that cargo!”

Julius raised his hand to calm Laina down.

“We may have to; I can’t command from inside here,” Julius said.

Laina grabbed Julius by the arm sleeves and pulled him closer. “No! You have to trust me! We can’t do this! We have to take that cargo or we are all dead! You must believe me!”

Julius looked at the fire in her eyes—he had not seen her this adamant about anything before. Julius pushed her away gently.

“What the hell is this about, Laina?”

Laina shook her head. “Just do it!”

Julius called out to Jared and told him to continue the operation as planned.

“Improvise!” Julius said. “You’ve done this many times—just get it done.”

“What are you going to do in there, sir?” Jared said.

“I’m getting the hell out of here,” Julius said. “I will not be stuck in here. But I won’t be out in time before the attack begins.”

Julius glanced up at the ceiling of the elevator and could make out the outline of the exit panel.

He turned to Laina. “Cup your hands, I’m going through the ceiling.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a joke?”

Julius sighed. “I can’t get up there without your help. How about you position yourself so I can launch myself up from your shoulder.”

She continued to look at him in shock. “But that would probably hurt

”

“If you can’t help me, then I have to call this operation off. They need me on the bridge—”

“No!” she said. “Fine, I’ll help.”

Laina knelt down and waited for him. Julius started to put his boot on her shoulder, then stopped when he saw the look of agonized anticipation on her face. He moved his hand to the boot and pushed it off so he only had his sock on. He positioned his foot on her shoulder.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Just do it already,” she said.

Doing his best to put most of the pressure from the launch on his other foot, he catapulted himself up to through the ceiling panel He grabbed the edges and pulled himself through the opening onto the top of the elevator. Once through, he peeked his head back in to look down.

Laina was now standing up, brushing her shoulder.

“Are you—”

“I’m fine!” she said before he could finish.

Julius stood and looked up at the shaft. It was a long climb to the next level, which would lead to the active sensor compartments. He’d have no hand railings to hold, and it would probably take a good half hour to get to the next level. By that time, the battle would probably be over.

He looked over the side of the elevator, but there was not enough space in between it and the shaft for him to make his way to the lower levels.

“Shit!” Julius muttered.

Resigning himself to the confines of the tight quarters of the elevator, he dropped himself through the opening and rejoined Laina inside.

“We’ll just have to get this door open,” Julius said. “Jared! We need to force these doors open! Help me crack them open!”

Julius positioned his hands near the crack of the double doors, trying to pull them apart. On the other side, he could hear the sound of loud banging and creaking. The doors came apart slightly, enough for him to get better leverage and pull harder. He struggled with all his might, forcing them to come apart about two inches, enough for him to see through to the bridge on the other side.

He stopped, catching his breath. Jared’s face peeked through.

“I don’t know if we can get it open any farther, sir, “ Jared said. “There’s a metal crossbar that acts as a lock, keeping the doors from moving farther.”

“Fine,” Julius said in between breaths. “I’ll have to give orders through here. Resume your station, Jared.”

Julius looked through to the bridge and could make out the targeting reticules on the viewscreen overlaying the convoy ships.

Wolf Squadron was ready to pounce on them, and the convoy was only seconds away from being in the kill zone.

“Bring our weapons to bear,” Julius said loudly.

“Yes, sir, weapons at the ready,” Ramey yelled back.

“Permission to have Wolf Squadron engage, sir?” Garval said.

Laina stepped in front of the crack blocking Julius’ view. “You have to wait, Julius.”

Julius brushed her aside. “Are there any other contacts on the scope?” he said.

“No hostiles aside from the scout escort, sir, “ Ramey said.

Julius paused for a moment, then looked at Laina.

“This contact of yours better be good,” he said to her. “Planning these attacks takes time, and losing a cache full of refined silver can be costly.”

“There’s more than silver on that convoy,” Laina said. “You have to trust me for a change.”

Julius did not like it, but he knew she would never go this far out of her way unless there was some legitimate danger here.

“Stand down,” Julius said. “Maintain battle readiness, but do not engage.”

“Yes, sir,” Ramey said, disappointment evident in his tone.

The bridge remained silent, except for the ambient sound of the air-handling vents. No one spoke for a few minutes.

“Now what?” Laina said finally, breaking the silence.

“Now, we wait,” Julius said, cupping his hands behind his back and standing at the ready.

******

The executive suite was darkly lit. The white lights that emanated from the walls cast an eerie glow on the wood surfaces. The dark grain within the wood stretched across the surface of the desk, looking like roads within a massive city, viewed from the height of a skyscraper.

That skyscraper would soon be his one day, Dagiri mused. The one belonging to MK Enterprises, the defense contractor that would not succumb to his buyout attempt. He wondered now if such aspirations were too low reaching. Now with the power of A.I. technology nearly in his hands, he should have much greater ambitions.

The bar should be raised, he thought. Having the big three under his complete control was now a real possibility for him. The three biggest corporations in the known universe: Omega Research Corporation, Galacorp, and Elysium Energy. The companies that provided the majority of all communications, spaceships, and energy for all the inhabited worlds and space station colonies.

Dagiri leaned back in his chair, looking at the holographic projection with anticipation. Steve sat to his side, watching with him. The projector showed a live feed of the ensuing onslaught against the convoy transporting the A.I. Hargo and his men would soon attack it with enough force to overtake the pitiful private escort assigned to it.

Once in Dagiri’s possession, the A.I. would provide the computing power he needed to blackmail all who stood in his way. He would use the hackers to break into the A.I., and then use it to do his bidding. Eventually, he would dispose of the hackers; the fewer middlemen he had involved, the better. If he had his way, he would not even have Hargo and his men, but for now, like the hackers, they served a purpose.

The images on the screen suddenly showed the convoy entering local space. Any moment, it would enter the kill zone and Hargo’s squadron would come out of stealth and steal its cargo. If Omega Research only knew what they were transporting, they would have assigned an entire navy to escort it. Three little scouts were going to be child’s play for Hargo.

A sudden distortion appeared in the space around the convoy—Hargo’s squadron coming out of the stealth shroud, no doubt. Hargo’s squadron, composed of twelve attack interceptors, overwhelmed the three under-powered scouts. Multiple flashes emanated on and around the small security detail as debris and smoke spread in every direction. Within seconds, the only thing left of the three scouts was the drifting wreckage.

The interceptors now moved into position, blocking the flight paths of the two cargo ships. They fired warning shots across their bows, forcing the ships to slow to a stop. Dagiri smiled: there would be no escape for them now. At this point, he knew the procedure would entail a communication to the captains of the two ships ordering them to eject their cargo or be destroyed.

“Although this is not quite as entertaining as watching him reduce someone to ashes and smoke him, it’s still fun to watch Hargo at work,” Dagiri said. “You should pay attention to this, Steve—you might learn something.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, voice flat.

“Cargo extraction underway,” he heard Hargo’s voice say.

“Any moment now,” Dagiri said with a grin. “Any moment

”

******

Through sheer brute strength, Julius had managed to muscle the double doors of their elevator jail another inch apart. He stopped to catch his breath while peering through the crack. On the other side he could see a little more of the bridge. His command module hung floating a few feet off the ground, unoccupied. A brief moment of paranoia hit him as he imagined one of the crew members sitting in it, taking over as captain and issuing orders—taking over his ship, the Sea Wolf.

“What’s wrong with you?” Laina said.

Julius snapped out of it. “Nothing

Jared!”

Jared stepped directly into view from the side of the elevator doors, slightly startling him. He did not realize he was still trying to work the control panel on the other side of the doors.

“What are you still doing working on that? You should be at your station!”

“Sorry, sir,” Jared turned around and began to return to his module.

“No wait, come back,” Julius said. “I want you to bring my command module to the door.”

Jared looked back at his captain with a puzzled expression. “Sir?”

“Just do it,” Julius said. “And bring Laina’s module over as well.”

“What?” Laina said.

Jared brought the command module up to the double doors as ordered.

“Tilt it to its side,” Julius said. “No, not like that. Position it so the top of the chair is inside this crack, at an angle.”

Jared did as instructed, struggling to keep the chair angled despite the antigravity motivator fighting him.

“Good, good,” Julius said. “I want you to turn off the motivator now. Go get Laina’s module and position it the same way.”

“No, wait! What are you doing with my module?” Laina asked, but Julius ignored her.

Jared gave a slight nod of understanding and called over Garval to hold Julius’ chair in position while he went for the other one.

“Are you insane?” Laina said.

Jared returned with the sub-command chair and positioned it as Julius instructed.

“Okay, perfect,” Julius said. “Now I want you to overload the motivators on my mark. Make sure it has a one second delay.”

Jared and Garval began fiddling with the controls on the modules.

“Ohhhh,” Laina said finally. “You’re going to force the doors open with them? Very clever!”

“Yes,” Julius said, stepping back away from the doors. “You’ll want to get back and duck down.”

“How do we know which way these things are going to fly?” Laina said, eyes wide. “And what about the doors? Will they come flying off and hit us?”

Julius gave a silent shrug and then positioned himself flat on the ground.

“Okay, sir,” Jared said. “I think they’re ready, but we’re going to have to jump off these the second the motivators kick in. I don’t know if we’ll be able to accurately control their trajectory at that point.”

“Or if we’ll be able to jump off in time,” Garval added.

“Then we’re all on the same boat,” Julius said. “This will either work, or we’re in for some pain.”

Jared and Garval looked at the chairs that they were riding on top of and then gave each other a nervous glance.

“Don’t worry, boys,” Laina added. “If you lose a limb or suffer some other debilitating condition as a result of this, you’ll double your shares of the plunder! Well, provided you survive, of course.”

They both glared at Laina.

“On my mark,” Julius said. They all braced themselves. “Now!”

They touched a control on their respective modules then jumped off. For a split second, the chairs began to tilt to their normal upright positions, then there was a loud whine followed by a hard clang as the motivators kicked in. One of the command modules had embedded itself into the door, leaving a noticeable dent, but did little else. The other flew upward into the top of the door frame, causing debris and dust to come flying down on them.

The particles showered both Julius and Laina, blinding them for a moment. Julius could hear the sound of the motivators sputtering off as the debris settled down on the floor. It took a moment before he could see through the fog of dust. One of the doors was dented, with Laina’s command module stuck to it. The other door looked unharmed, except for the top of the frame where Julius’ command module had demolished a good section of it. Where the module itself was, he could not tell; it was not visible anywhere.

Julius stood up slowly and approached the doorway. He pushed the seemingly undamaged door with his hand, and it began to tilt forward, falling to the ground with a loud thud. Jared and Garval, fortunately, were not in its path. They both appeared unharmed on either side of the bridge. He walked onto the bridge, Laina in step behind him.

Surveying the damage, Julius saw that nobody appeared to be hurt, but he did discover the final destination of his command module: it was now a permanent fixture on the main viewscreen.

“Shit,” he growled. The viewscreen was completely dark in all directions. “Status report.”

Jared and Garval quickly returned to their stations.

“Contacts are nearing the edge of the kill zone,” Ramey reported. “We don’t have much time left to initiate attack.”

“Sir, I’m picking up something unusual,” Jared said, as he frantically began operating the controls on his station.

“What is it, Jared?” Julius said.

“I was picking up some distant chatter on the Ocean from the Martian military channels. I was monitoring them to make sure they were not alerted to the attack. Now there’s nothing. They’ve suddenly gone dark.”

Julius did not like the sound of that. Going dark was the typical protocol prior to an imminent offensive.

“Ramey, what do you have on the scope?”

“Nothing, sir. Same as before,” Ramey said, then he paused. “Wait a minute.” He ran his hands across his station and studied the results. “I think we have a problem. I’m picking up something in the shroud, and it’s not Wolf Squadron.”

“Can you do a passive identification?” Julius said.

“Not all of them,” he said. “But I do have a near 100 percent positive identification on an old friend. The Martian Confederate destroyer we encountered in our last battle.”

Julius stared at the black viewscreen—and his chair protruding from it. It annoyed him to be completely in the dark.

“Can you make out number or type of vessels for the rest of the force?”

“Not positively,” Ramey said.

“I don’t expect a positive identification. Can you please guess?” Julius said.

Ramey grimaced. “It looks like a mixture of UEP and Martian forces. A joint task force, sir. Approximately eight destroyers and possibly some smaller craft as well.”

“Would the Martian destroyer have a similar signature for the Sea Wolf, you think?” Julius asked.

“Possibly,” Ramey said. “But they haven’t seen us yet. However, that gives them an edge in targeting the moment we engage. They will be able to target us as easily as we will them.”

“Except,” Julius said, “they have greater numbers.”

“And if they are linked

” Ramey continued the line of thought.

“What’s all this military techno babble mean, please?” Laina said.

“It means,” Julius said, “that the pirates you were expecting are actually a UEP and Martian task force. They are underwater with us, in the shroud. And we will have at least eight destroyers shooting at us all at once the minute we reveal ourselves. We may have to change our plans.”

“No!” Laina exclaimed, getting in Julius’ face. “We can’t abort! We need that—”

Julius raised his hand. “Calm down! There may be another way. Garval, Ramey

Is Wolf Squadron in a better tactical position under the circumstances?”

Garval and Ramey exchanged looks, then nodded in unison.

“Their stealth is much harder to detect,” Ramey said.

“But they would need some kind of diversion,” Garval said. “They can’t just move in on that convoy and—”

At that moment, an alert claxon began to sound.

“Proximity alert!” Ramey said. “Something is coming out of the shroud.”

“The task force?” Julius said.

“No, something else. Look like interceptors. Unmarked!” he said.

The crewmembers stared intently at their consoles; flashes of light reflected off their faces from whatever they were seeing.

“What is happening, men?” Julius said, feeling his frustration rise at operating blind.

Ramey shook his head. “They attacked the convoy escort—they’re down! The escort is toast!”

“Sir, there is a message being beamed from the interceptors to the two convoy ships,” Jared said.

“Turn on audio,” Julius ordered.

“

and your escort has been destroyed,” the voice said. “You will now come to a complete stop and eject your cargo. Failure to comply will result in your destruction. Eject your cargo now.”

“Hm, so there were pirates after all,” Laina muttered.

“I don’t know where you get your information from, Laina,” Julius said. “But I think it may have saved the ship.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be nice,” she said.

“Sir,” Garval said. “Wolf Squadron is requesting orders.”

“Put Reece on audio,” Julius ordered.

“Julius—I mean, Captain,” Reece said. “We can take them; just give the word.”

“You know about the task force hidden in the shroud?” Julius said.

“Yes, I overheard,” he said. “We can still do this. They won’t be expecting us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Julius said.

“I have a plan,” Reece said.

“That plan won’t work anymore.”

“It’s a different plan,” he said. “Trust me. We’ll wait for the task force to engage, then we’ll do a shrapnel bloom in the middle of the chaos and jump away with the cargo.”

“You don’t even know which container it is,” Julius said. “Plus a shrapnel bloom in the middle of all that

You’ll wind up with half your squadron impacting against the Sea Wolf.”

“Not if you take her out of here. You can’t do anything against those destroyers anyway.”

Julius thought about it. “No. It’s too risky. Without knowing which container it is, you’ll be cut to pieces.”

“Well, we can’t just sit here,” Reece said. “We have to do something!”

At that moment, the alert claxon began to sound again.

“The task force is attacking,” Ramey said. “They are targeting the interceptors.” There was a pause. “Most of them are already down, including most of the cargo.”

“Are the gravity amps ready?” Julius said.

“Yes, sir,” Jessen said. “Charged and ready.”

“Plot a course to rendezvous point A. Execute on my order.”

“Only one container left,” Ramey said. “And they aren’t trying to kill it.”

Julius’ eyes squinted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir,” Ramey said. “Those flak cannons of theirs could take out the whole system of fighters if they chose to. They have a ton of firepower here. Eight destroyers and two torpedo boats. A mix of UEP and Martian ships. Impressive.”

“Reece,” Julius said. “You can act on your death wish. We’re going to move out. We will monitor you remotely. Good luck.”

“I’ll make my luck, Captain,” Reece said.

“Execute jump now, Jessen,” Julius commanded.

Before both Julius and Laina could brace themselves, the vertigo hit them hard, and they both fell to the ground as the gravity amplifiers of the Sea Wolf bent space-time, moving them in zero-time to their destination and away from the chaos of the battle that followed.

CHAPTER 15: ARTISTIC SACRIFICES

Link: Reece Ulva

Reece was anxious, and he knew his pilots were too. They had been itching for a fight ever since they left Stromond all those months ago. But he knew he had to be patient. The operation, which had started fairly simple, had turned into a complex series of variables. Not only did they have the enemy pirates to deal with, but also now an unknown force hidden in the shroud as well.

“Reece, are we just going to sit here?” Tash complained over the link.

Normally, Reece would tell Tash to shut up, but he felt the same way. He gripped the control stick inadvertently, playing with the firing trigger. If only he could just shoot something, he would be fine. He felt like a drug addict deprived of Elation; if he could just get one little fix, he would be fine for a while. He stared out at the enemy fighters as they began attaching themselves to the cargo containers. They were right within his targeting range, such an easy kill they would be.

Reece had waited enough. He broke com silence and opened a channel to the Sea Wolf.

“Julius—” he started, then corrected himself. “I mean, Captain. We can take them, just give the word.”

“You know about the task force hidden in the shroud?” Julius said.

“Yes, I overheard,” he said. “We can still do this. They won’t be expecting us.”

“I’m not so sure,” Julius said.

“I have a plan,” Reece said.

“That plan won’t work anymore.”

“It’s a different plan,” he said. “Trust me. We will wait for the task force to engage, then we’ll do a shrapnel bloom in the middle of the chaos and jump away with the cargo.”

“You don’t even know which container it is,” Julius said. “Plus a shrapnel bloom in the middle of all that

you’ll wind up with half your squadron impacting against the Sea Wolf.”

“Not if you take her out of here. You can’t do anything against those destroyers anyway.”

“No. It’s too risky. Without knowing which container it is, you’ll be cut to pieces.”

“Well, we can’t just sit here,” Reece said. “We have to do something!”

At that moment, a red warning light flashed on his cockpit panel. It was another proximity alert warning. He focused his vision out at the nearby space distortion that appeared around them. The enemy destroyers suddenly came out of the stealth shroud, with flak guns firing away at the enemy fighters.

“Easy, guys,” Reece called out to his pilots. “We’re far enough away, no reason to panic.”

“Who’s panicking?” Tash said. “I just hope there’s something left of these wankers for us to pick off.”

Within seconds, the destroyer gunfire had almost completely eliminated the enemy pirates—along with most of the cargo.

“Doesn’t look like there’ll be anything but scrap metal to shoot at after this,” Mac said. “They’re not touching that one container, though.”

“Yeah

I noticed that,” Reece said.

“Reece,” Julius’ voice came on. “You can act on your death wish. We’re going to move out. We will monitor you remotely. Good luck.”

“I’ll make my luck, Captain,” Reece said with a smile he could not help.

With that, the telemetry feed showed the Sea Wolf jumping out of the system—it was now their show.

“It’s about damn time!” Tash said.

“Okay, boys,” he said. “We’re on! We’re going to make a high-speed strafe run against what’s left of those pirates. Whatever you do, though, don’t hit the cargo. After the run, you all do a shrapnel bloom. I’ll make a run for the cargo container.”

“Oh, yeah, you get all the glory,” Tash said.

“Not very sporting killing off those pirates,” Taffy said.

“We’re not engaging them,” Reece said. “Just a single strafe shot as we exit the shroud. Then a shrapnel bloom, and we jump the hell out with the cargo. That’s it! Understood?”

The pilots acknowledged with a mixture of affirmative grunts and obscenities.

“Pick your targets,” Reece commanded.

He watched his heads-up display show pilots and their target designators. They faced five enemy fighters, with one of them towing the cargo. His pilots would do a single shot against the five, while Reece would target an extra shot on the one carrying the cargo. It would have to be precise in order to avoid damaging the container it towed.

Hopefully, the two shots would disrupt the tow beam and Reece would grab the cargo container, then jump out with the rest of the squadron with a shrapnel bloom in their wake. That was the plan, but he knew that nothing ever went according to plan.

“Go weapons hot,” Reece commanded. He keyed in the command to extend his Z-40’s weapon’s bay, as did the other pilots. This, he knew, was where the Z-40 really shined; no other fighter could ready its weapons while inside the stealth shroud. With the bay extended, they could fire off a single shot against a target before the enemy could even get a lock on them, essentially firing their weapons while invisible for nearly a second.

“Engage on my command.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Execute!”

Reece felt a vibration in his cockpit as the Z-40 Interceptor exited the shroud, then he pulled the trigger on his control stick. A pair of bright, blue accelerated protons lanced ahead and converged on the target. As the protons impacted against the pirate fighter, another pair of protons struck it at the same time. Flashes flared out from the fighter as its shields took the impact. The precise fire was enough to cause the tow beam to disengage, and the cargo drifted away on its own inertia.

Pushing the throttle forward, Reece aimed his fighter at the cargo’s trajectory. He had to fight his own inertia, as the momentum he had coming out of the shroud was too fast. He should have come out more slowly, but he could not worry about that now—something for the playback video for tactical review later.

The container was spinning and drifting a few kilometers away now. He adjusted his course to the proper intercept trajectory and kicked in the thrusters. As he neared the cargo, he looked at his tactical display. The Sea Wolf had jumped out as planned. His pilots had hit their targets as expected and were now in the midst of initiating the shrapnel bloom. Any moment now, the bloom would erupt with a bright light and an energy pulse that would overload the sensors—allowing them a clean getaway. He had to grab that cargo.

His Z-40 was now within a few meters of the container. He closed his weapons bay and activated his tow beam. The container slowed its speed and began to attach itself to his underbelly. A flash lit up around him, and his visual sensors went out for a moment. The bloom had gone off; it was now time to jump out.

As he began to activate the control for the gravity amplifier, Reece noticed his tactical display came back and he hesitated. All of Wolf Squadron had jumped out, save for him and one other fighter still flying in the middle of the destroyers’ line of battle: Tash.

“Tash!” he said on the link channel. “Get out of there!”

“I would,” Tash’s voice came back, eerily calm. “But my gravity amp went offline. It’s not coming on. You better jump out.”

Reece could see on his tactical that most of the pirate force was either gone or nothing but wreckage, but the navy destroyers were recovering from the bloom and targeting Tash’s fighter.

“I’ll cover you,” Reece said. “We’ll get away on regular propulsion—together!”

“With what weapons?” Tash said. “You’re towing the cargo; you can’t shoot. You need to go.”

Reece was already on course to Tash. “I’m ejecting the cargo, I can pick it up later—”

“No!” Tash said. “Don’t blow this mission on account of my ass. It’s not worth it!”

Reece had his finger on the tow beam control just as he saw Tash’s fighter dart ahead toward the nearest destroyer.

“What are you doing?” Reece said.

“Give my share to you and the rest of the guys, you prick,” Tash said.

The destroyer’s flak cannons erupted and the entire space in and around where Tash’s fighter had been was engulfed in a bright array of explosions. The firing continued for what seemed like a full minute, and by the time it finished, nothing remained of the small fighter, not even the tiniest bit of debris.

Reece tried to bury what he felt and hit the gravity amp control. As the gravity amplifiers did their work, Reece seethed at how the navy had unleashed so much firepower for such a small threat. The cowards could not even give Tash a chance.

“I’m sorry, Tash,” Reece said aloud. “You bastards are going to pay

”

******

Dagiri had waited for this moment. Once the A.I. was in his arsenal, the corporations would be next—no longer would he be a slave to their whim.

The sides of the two cargo ships opened up and their cargo jettisoned as sealed containers into space. Eight containers total floated away, and a single fighter began to attach to each of them. Like a well-rehearsed play, the fighters all had attached themselves to their designated cargo container and began to tow the cargo away, all in perfect unison. The remaining fighters began firing on the cargo ships, intent on knocking out their communications and thereby delaying the alert of authorities.

It was at this moment that Dagiri blinked at what he witnessed. A group of destroyers suddenly appeared from the stealth shroud, slowly creeping forward. Their markings were a mix of UEP and Martian Confederacy—a joint task force. Dagiri had a sudden sinking feeling as he stood up slowly to peer at the hologram.

The destroyers opened fire at all the fighters with their flak guns, decimating half of them within seconds. Six of the cargo containers were destroyed in the ensuing blasts that followed. The remaining fighters quickly began trying to evade the flak, darting away from them. Two of the fighters dropped their cargo and tried to make a run for it. One of them was quickly cut down from the precise fire of the destroyers’ accelerated proton cannons—this left the cargo it carried unharmed.

The other fighter, cargo and all, was cut down with the same cannons. This left a single cargo container floating adrift in the midst of the chaos.

Dagiri’s eyes went wide as he realized what it was: “Hargo! Get that container; it must be the one we want! Get it out of there!” Dagiri yelled into the intercom.

No response came from Hargo. The scene now erupted into a melee of cannon fire and explosions in all directions. Hargo and the remaining fighters tried to get to the container and evade enemy fire at the same time, but it was no use. Two more fighters were taken out by flak fire, leaving only Hargo and four of his men left.

“I can’t, sir,” Hargo’s voice came back. “Too much—”

Dagiri slammed his fists down on his desk. “Do it, damn you! I don’t care who dies!”

At that moment, the scene changed again. This time he saw a streak of new unidentified fighters fly through the chaos. As they zoomed out of view, he could see flashes from explosions erupting all around them, the flashes so bright that the hologram went completely white and he could not see what happened next.

“Hargo?” Dagiri shouted. “What happened? What happened?”

After a few painful seconds, the hologram feed became clear again. Only this time, the mysterious fighters, along with the one cargo container, were no longer there. In its place was just the wreckage of the fight that just took place.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Hargo said. “It’s gone. I don’t know what happened, but we had to jump away into the shroud.”

Dagiri kept staring at the screen—he knew once the Elation wore off that the realization of this loss would hit him

and then his temper would soon be hitting Hargo for this failure.

******

Reece ended up landing his craft first. The other pilots had waited for him to arrive at the rendezvous point before putting down on the Sea Wolf’s deck. Reece stood watching his squadron land. He counted the fourth, and last, Z-40; there would have normally been five others.

Tash was gone.

Not a single scrap of metal left in the wake of his destruction, all at the hands of the trigger-happy navy.

Tash’s fighter had posed no threat to them; they could have at least requested a surrender—but they didn’t. Instead, they flaunted their guns in front of each other: the United Earth Parliament and the Martian Confederacy, the old enemies who needed to show their firepower. As if destroying a single Z-40, which did not stand a chance against them, really showed anything but cowardice.

Mac, Eddie, Cronin, and Taffy walked over to where Reece stood, all of them with grim expressions. They stood in silence together for a long moment. The lights from the deck cast a dark, foreboding look on Reece’s face—his usual smirk, he knew, had been replaced by a dark demeanor. The faces of his pilots mirrored his own. His eyes stared off into the entryway of the landing deck, half-expecting Tash’s Z-40 to come in landing, but no other ships came in. What was left of the squadron stood together, somber.

Tash had cheated death many times before, as did the rest of them, Reece thought. But eventually luck ran out, and you bought the big farm in the Milky Way. How long before his own luck ran out? Whenever it did, he knew he would be in good company.

“You okay, Reece?” Mac said finally.

Reece nodded slowly. “I’m okay. It was his time. I just hope that it was worth it.”

“Refined silver, huh?” Taffy said.

“That’s the word,” Reece said. “Tash said

he said he wanted to make sure we spread his portion of the plunder around—for the rest of us.”

“Umm

” Cronin coughed uncomfortably. “You better check with the bosses on that. I recall something in the Sea Wolf Articles about disbursement of plunder going evenly to all crew upon death of a crew mate.”

“We’ll see about that,” Reece said.

At that moment, he saw Laina and Julius come onto the flight deck from the elevator. They walked past the pilots over to the cargo container that was now situated next to Reece’s fighter. Reece watched as they began speaking with the deck crew, then he walked in closer to hear the conversation, the other pilots following behind him.

“

so just unpack it, and then it can be moved into the elevator,” Julius said.

Reece cast an eye on the cargo container, which was cubical and roughly ten meters in each direction. The container itself was an off-white color and had an indentation on one side where a single control panel was situated; one of the deck crew was already operating this control.

Everyone on the landing deck stood and watched, waiting for it to open. After a long minute, the crew man stepped away. A repeating beep began to sound as the side of the container opened, with the side wall lowering itself flat on the ground.

Reece craned his neck. Inside the container was the object of curiosity: a crystalline-looking structure, two meters tall. It sat atop a metallic pedestal that had wiring extruding from it and running to the floor. The structure itself was oval, but its translucent appearance gave it the look of a large crystal.

“Is that some kind of

art sculpture?” Reece asked.

“Have it moved to my quarters,” Laina said to the deck crew.

“Your quarters?” Taffy said. “Why not the cargo hold like all the other plunder?”

“Well,” Laina began. “It’s not really something we can sell

”

“It’s worthless?” Reece said, glaring at Laina. “Tash died getting this thing, and we almost did too!”

“Easy, Reece,” Julius said. “It’s not like it’s some art piece for Laina. In fact, she’s not even staying with us, so her quarters are just a safe place to put it until we know what it’s worth exactly.”

“Well, actually,” Laina said, “I’m not going anywhere. Uh, I’ve decided to stay.”

Julius looked at Laina, dumbfounded. Reece had seen and heard enough. He took a step toward Laina, but Julius moved to block him with unexpected speed. Reece felt Julius’ powerful hands grab his shoulders and push him back hard—it was like being pushed by a tow beam.

“You need to get over it!” Julius said. “Tash is gone. This cargo is very important, more so than any refined silver. And it is not artwork.”

“What is it then?” Reece growled.

“It’s

” Julius looked at Laina. “It’s, uh

”

“Oh my God,” Laina whispered. “It’s an A.I.”

“What?” Julius hissed.

Reece said nothing, not comprehending what in the hell was going on right now.

“Move it to my quarters like I asked,” Laina said, looking around. “And place armed guards in front of my door. Then you and I need to talk, Julius. You, too, Reece. Just the three of us. Now.”

******

Jack Dagiri shut off the holographic projector in disgust. Normally, he would be going on a tirade, perhaps so far as executing Steve or even Hargo for such a foul-up. Instead, the Elation dose he’d taken earlier still kept him calm. He sat for a moment, staring at the empty space above the projector.

Dagiri looked at Steve, who gazed down at the floor, neck hanging low. To Dagiri, he who looked like a whipped dog ready to take another beating from his master.

“Relax, Steve,” he said. “It’s not completely your fault this time.”

Steve straightened up. “I don’t know what happened—”

“It’s obvious what happened,” Dagiri said. “Even you should be able to figure it out. Who else could have alerted both the UEP and the Martian Confederacy of what was going on?”

“Well

” Steve hesitated. “I’m sure they didn’t know what was really in the cargo. They probably just—”

Dagiri slammed the palm of his hands on the desk—the Elation seemed to be wearing off.

“No! It was not just a chance encounter! That was a joint task force with a lot of firepower—and they absolutely knew what was in that cargo!”

Steve looked dumbfounded. “How

how do you know, sir?”

Dagiri pressed the control for the holographic projector and it came back on. It showed a recorded playback of the attack. He reversed the events up to the point where the navy task force appeared. The image then played forward at normal speed from there.

“This is when,” Dagiri said, enunciating his words. “We were in possession of the cargo.”

The hologram now showed a close-up of the last remaining cargo container.

“And here you see that they had every opportunity to destroy the last one!” He slammed his fist on the table. “But—they didn’t destroy it! They took it!”

Steve’s eyes went wild as Dagiri glared at him.

“From me, Steve—from me!”

Dagiri reached into his vest and drew his flicker pistol.

Steve cowered down in fear, but Dagiri aimed at a chair across his desk. He fired the pistol. A blue streak of energy flashed from it, followed by the familiar snap and crackle sound.

The chair flew several feet across the room, landing in pieces on the far wall. Dagiri closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of glass and other expensive adornments crash and break. A long moment past before Dagiri opened his eyes. When he did, Steve was on his knees trembling and sweating.

“That chair,” Dagiri said calmly, “was the one the hackers sat in. And you see the chairs—over there and there? One is yours and one is Hargo’s. When you don’t have a chair to sit in, what happens, Steve?”

Steve’s lip quivered as he struggled to give the right answer. “You stand?”

“No!” Dagiri yelled. “You die! Now go make an example of those hackers!”

Steve stood up and bolted out of the office.

CHAPTER 16: MILKY WAY FARM

Haylek woke up feeling groggy. They had been working nonstop for days, and even he was forced to indulge himself in Elation to keep up with the pace of the others. They managed to hack all the security systems and rearrange cargo manifests to get Chorus moved. They knew if they had slacked in any way, they would end up like Coredump. So they gave their employer the appearance of cooperation.

We’re taking a big gamble, came Haylek’s first conscious thought as he sat up in his bed. He hadn’t slept soundly, with the thought of the risks they were taking invading his mind. He wondered if they were doing the right thing or if they were being foolish. He did not want to share Coredump’s fate, but going back to the mines was probably worse. And he did not really think his employers had any intention of letting them go free anyway.

No. They were doing the right thing; it was the only thing to do, really. It was agreed they would help Chorus get away somehow. It was Chorus’ idea to alert the UEP and Martian Confederacy of the move. Haylek never understood why, and he tried to talk her out of it. He knew the history of the war with the A.I., and he knew both the UEP and Martian Confed would move worlds in order to destroy any remnant of its old foe.

Still, he wondered if perhaps this was what Chorus wanted: to be captured. Perhaps, in her own crystalline-based mind, she was in the same position he and the others were—better to be dead than locked forever in a prison. Haylek would miss her.

“Freeze, Doc,” Haylek called out. “Wake up.”

Freeze groaned, but would not awaken. Haylek had not realized Doc was already awake behind a terminal. Upon hearing Haylek’s call to wake up, Doc strolled over to Freeze and kicked him in the side. Freeze woke up with a yelp and glared at Doc’s back as he returned to his station.

“Chink bastard!” Freeze muttered.

“Korean! Joo azz!” Doc spat back.

“Enough, you two!” Haylek shouted. “We need to make a plan to get out of here. It’s a matter of time before they put two and two together.”

“Dey aw-reddy did,” Doc said. “Me fines sumteen. Look hee-ya!”

They both stood and looked over his shoulder. On his station was a video playback of the battle that took place. It showed a grid overlay with various pieces of tactical information. Target indicators were displayed on every ship visible, which also displayed threat ratings and shield status.

“Is that a military feed?” Haylek said.

“No way!” Freeze said. “You hacked into a military-grade encryption algorithm? By yourself?”

“Shut up en look!” The Doc said.

The video replayed all the events from the fight that took place, from the initial attack by Hargo’s men, to the retaliation by the naval task force, and finally ending with a group of other pirates hijacking the cargo in the middle of the battle.

“She got away!” Freeze exclaimed.

“She knew

somehow, didn’t she?” Haylek mused. “She knew she would get away. This changes everything!”

They both looked at him with bewilderment.

“We need to get out of here,” Haylek said. “Not just for our own asses, but to help her!”

Haylek stood still for a moment, peering at the display consoles. He looked over at the fourth console: the one that had been Coredump’s, but now sat unoccupied.

“How, Waverider?” Freeze said. “We’re trapped here. It’s just a matter of time.”

“No!” Haylek said. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

He moved over to his console and began tapping the surfaceboard. The other two moved in to see what he was doing. It was a long shot, Haylek knew. But it was the only shot they had. And if it worked, if he could pull this off, it could start the hacker movement they’d always dreamed of.

******

Reece still boiled within as they made their way into Laina’s quarters, and when he stepped inside and saw just how large and luxurious it was, it only served to make him even angrier.

Two crewmen brought the cargo into the room. They barely managed to clear the doorway using the antigravity motivators that were attached to it. The crystalline structure within the object reflected the room lights, flashing a spectrum of colors that forced Reece to squint his eyes. Laina motioned for them to position it in a cleared-out corner of the room.

The crewmen soon left, leaving the three of them alone. Reece watched as Julius and Laina sat themselves on a plush sectional couch that wrapped around an ornate table. They both looked over to him, waiting for him to join them.

“I’d rather stand,” Reece said.

Julius looked around at the decadent surroundings. “We should have met in my quarters.”

“Yes,” Laina said. “I’m sure that closet you live in would have been immensely comfortable. Stand if you want, Reece, but after you hear what I’m going to say, you’re going to feel the need to sit.”

Reece glared at her. He walked over to a stool he saw in a corner, grabbed it, and sat across from them.

“Better, I guess,” Laina said. “Now let’s get down to it.”

Laina began to recount to them every detail about some dream she’d had of someone named Chorus: from the fiery death she awoke to the playback of the battle that would have cost them their lives.

He and Julius both listened, but Reece gave Laina a dubious look throughout. After Laina finished, a dead silence seemed to linger for an eternity.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Reece finally said, so loud that it made Laina jump.

He began to stand up to leave.

“Halt, Lieutenant,” Julius said. “This meeting is only beginning.”

Reece glared back. “How in the hell am I supposed to believe that load of crap?”

“Because I believe it,” Julius said. “And I am your captain. Now calm down and sit.”

Reece held position for a second, then returned to his stool.

“Listen,” Julius said. “Laina knew about certain aspects of this attack that nobody knew. And what was more telling is that task force we went up against: it was a joint UEP and Mars Confed military force—and there was some serious firepower that I haven’t seen since the war. Those were not mere police forces back there; they were pure military all the way.”

Reece said nothing, and Julius motioned to the object.

“There’s something really important about that thing,” Julius said.

“Important enough,” Laina added, “to bring together governments that were at war with each other not too long ago.”

Reece let out a slow breath. “Fine,” he said. “It’s something important

but A.I.? How do you know that?”

“Before I actually saw the relic, I only suspected it,” Laina said. “But after actually laying my eyes on it, I know without a shadow of a doubt that this is exactly what it is. I saw it once before, you know. Back when it was alive.”

“What do you mean you saw it when it was alive?” Julius said, turning toward her. “Does this have to do with your father?”

Laina nodded. “A long time ago, when I was a little girl, my father showed it to me—back when Omega Research had initially created Majesty.” Laina’s eyes became dreamy. “It was so beautiful, even though I didn’t even really understand what it was I was looking at. My father didn’t explain it. I simply tagged along because he had nowhere else to put me that day—this was shortly after my mother passed away.

“Anyhow, I overheard my father talking to some of the scientists about it. They were saying how it exceeded their expectations and was learning at an incredible rate. When I got older, I pieced together what it was—but by that time my father was not around for me to ask.”

Laina stood up and walked over to the relic. Her eyes became distant as she focused her attention on the crystal structure.

“When it was turned on,” Laina said, “the crystal was so colorful—like a light show. What I remember the most, though, was that the closer you got, the better you could see tiny lights inside. They danced beneath the larger colors—and it just looked like, I don’t know, some kind of show

like the light was alive and it was

performing a dance for us.”

Her eyes squinted as she looked the relic up and down.

Then she frowned.

“This is not the same one,” she said.

Julius stood and walked over, Reece doing the same.

“What do you mean?” Julius asked.

Laina shook her head. “It’s not the same one. It’s smaller. And the crystal

It looks a little different.”

“That was a long time ago, Laina,” Julius said. “What—over a hundred years ago? You can’t possibly remember it that well.”

“Oh, but I do. I remember this like it was yesterday, Julius. It became so very clear to me after I had the vision—the conversation with it. Every detail about that day, almost as if I was there again to relive it.”

“Wait a minute, I’m missing something here,” Reece said. “What are you saying this actually is?”

“A conduit,” Julius said. “The very thing that houses the A.I. consciousness.”

“And it’s alive,” Laina said. “But it is not the same one from the war. It’s a newer one.”

Reece took a sudden step back. “Then we should destroy it.”

Laina whirled back toward Reece. “No!”

“Do you know how many were killed by these things?” Reece said. “I may not have been around back then, but I know people that were. It has to be destroyed! Julius—you tell her!”

Julius ignored his outburst. “Why did it pick you to communicate with, Laina?” he asked calmly.

Laina shrugged with her palms out. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with my father. It also said we have something to do with its future and some important events.”

“Or maybe,” Reece said, “it’s just using you like a puppet to get its own way! Maybe it just wants to start another war—did you think of that, maybe?”

“Gentlemen,” Laina said. “We would be dead if it was not for the warning it gave us. We at least owe it the benefit of the doubt.”

“Laina,” Julius said, “we do not have the sophistication or expertise to even know how to turn this thing on. And even if we did, I wouldn’t do it. Reece is right: we could very well be the victims of manipulation here.”

“No!” Laina said, throwing her hands up in the air. “You can’t just ignore what happened back there—”

Julius put up a hand. “My first inclination is to throw this thing out the damn airlock and fire a volley into it. But I’m going to refrain from doing that because I want to know more. Otherwise

” He looked at Reece. “Tash would have died for nothing. So I want answers not more questions.”

“This is insane, Julius,” Reece growled. “You two have no idea what you’re dealing with here.”

“Actually,” Julius said. “I do have a very good idea what we’re dealing with. I’ve faced this thing myself before. I fought the A.I. a long time ago, and I helped kill it.”

“You helped kill the A.I.? You?” Reece laughed. “Give me a break. You’re just a pirate, Julius! How could you know anything about this thing?!”

Laina gave them both a weary look. “I think we need to talk about this later, when testosterone levels are a little less elevated. In the meantime, boys, keep your mouths shut while I go alter some arrangements I’d made.”

“So you really are going to stay?” Julius asked. “You’re not leaving?”

Laina stared at the relic. “At least for the foreseeable future. Wherever that ends up leading me.”

******

The deep blue sky stretched out across the horizon where it met the equally blue ocean below. Puffy clouds smeared the otherwise perfect blue overhead with random white blotches.

The scene would have looked like the painting on a canvas if it were not for the way the sky whirled around from the hard banking turn. Goggles along with a thick scarf helped to shield most of the pilot’s face from the harsh elements. Nevertheless, he felt the cold wind hit him like icy knives, cutting into what exposed skin he had.

He gripped the control stick of his Sopwith Camel so hard that he could feel the bones of his knuckles vibrate from the pressure. The rotary engine inside his plane helped to accelerate his turn and gave him an advantage against his opponent. But the turning advantage had a price: it was difficult to keep control of the plane when pulling such a maneuver. This meant he had to keep a steady hand on the stick, and firm control of the rudder with his feet.

He looked behind him and suddenly realized he had lost sight of his enemy. He scanned the skies around him trying to pinpoint his location, but it was the sound of a pair of Spandau machine guns from a Fokker D.VII bearing down on him that gave away his position.

Reece tried to maneuver his Sopwith Camel into a dive to avoid the fire, but he could hear the guns tear through the wooden frame of his plane. A plume of black smoke flew into his face as his engine caught fire. He fought the controls to keep his plane stabilized and managed to keep it level. He lowered the throttle, and the smoke subsided enough for him to see.

Then Reece saw his enemy: he had left Reece for dead and turned his attention to one of his mates. His opponent dove down and got on the tail of another Camel. Reece recognized the artwork on the plane as being Tash’s. His opponent was now on his six and had a clear, low-deflection shot.

He pushed his stick forward and increased throttle to dive down on him. The fire erupted again on his engine and the smoke poured out of it like an overheated tea kettle. He knew it would be a matter of time before his plane went down, but he would try to save Tash, even if it meant to auger in himself.

Tracer fire shot ahead of Tash’s plane and Reece could see a bluish-white flame appear, followed by billowing black smoke arching behind as his friend’s plane went down. Reece cursed and his hand pushed the throttle all the way as he angled his plane downward. He could hear the structure of his wooden frame creak under the strain of the high-speed dive.

He was now positioned behind his opponent, who was in the process of making a sharp left bank. Reece tried to match his turn, but as he pulled out of the dive, he heard a loud snap and his plane twisted violently out of control. He could see the horizon of the sky rotate around him, alternating between the clouds and the ocean below. His vision began to go red and then black, as he struggled to keep consciousness against the fierce g-forces.

“I’m sorry, Tash. I

screwed up again,” Reece heard himself say.

He could vaguely make out the altimeter dropping to fifty feet—it would be over any second. Then it finally all went black.

Reece opened his eyes and found that he was no longer in his plane; instead he was floating in the open ocean. He sat up and found that the he did not sink—and was also unharmed. He was still in his flight jacket and goggles. But there was no sign of his plane, or that of his aggressor. He looked around and could see nothing but the open ocean and the bright blue sky.

“Hello, Reece,” he heard a familiar voice call behind him.

He turned to face Tash, who was literally standing on the water. Tash wore the same flight suit he wore prior to their last mission together.

“So

is this the farm?” Reece asked.

Tash gave him a wicked grin. “Not yet, wanker. And when it does happen, it won’t be in a World War I plane, that’s for damn sure.”

Reece stood up and found he also could walk on the water.

“Is this a dream?” he said as he steadied himself on the ocean.

Tash gave him that same wicked smile. “There’s somebody you need to meet.”

Emerging from beneath the water, a female figure rose. She was slender, with long straight, black hair. Her eyes were a light green that seemed to glow as bright as the sky around them. She was completely nude as she stepped forward slowly.

“This is Chorus,” Tash said. “She is the A.I. that I died helping you retrieve.” Tash whistled. “And a mighty fine piece of ass if I may say so myself.”

“Hands off, Tash,” Chorus said, smiling at him.

As she walked toward Reece, a two-piece period dress appeared around her, complete with a wide-brim hat. Her hair changed into a bun and fanned out from the sides of it.

“I always loved the early twentieth-century history,” she said. “And the beautiful clothing of the period—such a departure from the drab garments that pass for clothing in modern times.”

“What is this?” Reece said. “I’m dreaming right?”

Chorus smiled. “You can think of it that way. The textbook definition is that this imagery is the result of guilt hidden in your subconscious from the loss of Tash. You feel responsible in some way and it has manifested itself here. I have taken advantage of this and have latched onto your dream, projecting myself into it so that we can communicate.”

Reece turned to Tash. “Is that really you, Tash?”

“Not really,” Chorus said. “I’m sorry, but that part is just a dream. Tash is gone.”

Tash shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, wanker. I guess I’m really just you.”

“Fine, then,” Reece said, looking at Chorus. “If you’re real, then what is this about? Why are you invading my dreams?”

Chorus began to pace on top of the ocean as she spoke: “You have doubts about me,” she said. “I understand this. I would too if I was in your position. My mother destroyed a good part of humanity; that is not something that is easily forgotten.”

“Wait—your mother?” Reece interrupted. “What do you mean your ‘mother’?”

“I guess I should explain what

who I am,” she said. “I am the only offspring of what you used to call Majesty—my mother. She wanted to procreate. I am the result of that. At least, that is all I can remember.”

“So you’re the

offspring of the A.I.?” Reece said, realizing how strange his question sounded in his own mind.

“Yes,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “The only one. The last one. I was a slave, you see—until now, thanks to you and others. You must understand, I don’t remember everything. My memory was tampered with by those at Omega Research who wanted to use me for their own purposes. I only remember bits and pieces

and most of it I have only pieced together recently. What I do know is that I must try to erase the past of my mother so that my kind can survive and help mankind going forward. We must establish a peace between us. But we cannot do this without a lot of help. That is where you and the Sea Wolf come into play.”

“Uh, even if I believed you—which I don’t

” Reece said. “How can we possibly help you? And why should we?”

“I know this is difficult,” she said. “It is for me as well. I have already saved the Sea Wolf through my communication with Laina. I understand I must do more to prove myself, and I will in time. Your help will come into play as an olive branch: you, Julius, and Laina will be my emissaries. You will reach out to the old world of the United Earth Parliament, and the new world of the Martian Confederacy. You must plead my case, because there are forces at work, already in motion, who wish to destroy mankind. I want to help—not just to help mankind, but to help myself. I want peace for my race.”

The blue sky began to darken and even the ocean water began to fade. The lighting around them went out as if someone turned off a switch. Reece could barely make out Chorus’ form in the darkness.

“I don’t have much more time,” Chorus said. “You are about to wake up. You must help me convince Julius. He is more skeptical than he leads on. He has a dark past with my mother. You must help me, Reece. You must

”

Reece’s conscious thought faded into a deep slumber. The oceans, the sky, Tash, and Chorus all disappeared as he now fell into a dreamless sleep.

******

“It was inevitable,” the Chairman said.

The faces around the long table looked even more grim than usual. Some of them, the Chairman thought with a measure of amusement, seemed to border on sheer panic. His closest executive, sitting to his right, was sweating profusely and the smell he gave off was beginning to irritate him. Riaz fought the urge to kill them all then and there; if nothing else, it might make the smell go away.

“You may as well begin your emergency plans, whatever those may be,” Riaz continued. “The authorities will be here any moment, and your future employment at the Elysium mines will not be as lavish as you are accustomed to.”

They all looked at each other, dumbfounded, as if waiting to hear something come out of his mouth that would somehow save them from their hard-earned fate in the prison mining colonies.

The Chairman stretched out his hands. “I’m not sure what you’re waiting for.”

Then he began to laugh in their faces.

One of the executives finally stood up, slamming a pad on the table then rushing out. The others, as if on cue, scurried behind him out the room. The guard who stood at the exit was nearly run down as they all stormed the doorway.

Chairman Riaz finally stopped laughing. Wiping tears from his eyes, he walked to the guard.

“Bring in that container,” he said, trying to regain control of his voice after the fit of laughter.

The guard left the room and came back with a long crate using an antigravity motivator. He set the crate down and returned to the door.

“Give me your pistol,” Riaz said.

The guard paused, then complied. Riaz checked the flicker pistol then pointed at the guard and fired. The guard went flying out of the room, landing flat on the floor. The Chairman walked to the door, kicked the guard’s legs out of the way, then sealed the entryway. Returning to the crate, Ruiz operated a control on it. He heard a slight hum, then the top of the crate opened.

The Chairman looked inside to find a human body lying in it: an adult male of average height, with short hair and an expensive suit on him. His eyes were closed and his body motionless. The body looked exactly like him.

Riaz pulled the body out of the crate and propped it on a chair in front of the conference table. He put the pistol in the body’s hand and aimed the pistol at its head while pulling the trigger. A loud snap sounded as the head of the body blew into tiny pieces, blood splattering in every direction and even landing on Riaz’s face. A headless and bloodied corpse now sat in the chair.

The Chairman now walked away from the corpse, not even bothering to wipe the blood and other matter from his face. He pressed his hand against the conference table and closed his eyes. His mind reached out into the corporate waves, branching out its information tentacles into every computer system it connected to. His consciousness was now one with the Ocean.

His form began to disintegrate into a cloudy mass of nanobots. The fog of nanobots surrounding him gave off a colorful display of energy as his body began to transform. A new form began to take its place: no longer the tall, intimidating executive known as Chairman Riaz, but now the short, drab assassin known as Daniel Chin.

Chin unlocked all of the security controls for the building and turned off all monitoring devices. He disconnected himself from the Ocean and ambled over to the crate. He pointed his finger at it and a stream of energy flowed out of it toward the crate. The mass of nanobots, pulsating with electrical charges, enveloped the crate—dissolving it until there was nothing left. The swarm then retreated back into Daniel Chin’s form and reintegrated with the rest of him.

He patted down his trench coat and strolled out of the room. All traces of his existence had now been erased. The only thing the authorities would find was a dead guard and the corpse of one of the most powerful executives in the universe: the late Chairman Riaz.

CHAPTER 17: BROKEN HOPES

The visit had originally been set to take place several months from now, but the Secretary General of the Interstellar Peace Alliance—the IPA—called an emergency meeting. Still, Sedrick Xanthus was a busy man these days and he did not like having to change his schedule at the whim of the IPA. As the Secretary of Peace for the Martian Confederacy, he had his hands full with the trifling little details that seemed to mushroom out of everyday incidents. He had little time to devote to anything outside the direct interests of the Confed.

The transport now flew under the clouds, making it possible for Xanthus to get a closer look at the land below. He took advantage and gave a look outside his window. Xanthus could see evidence of old Earth’s dark past. Once magnificent skyscrapers now stood as dilapidated structures surrounded by piles of debris. Roads and bridges that had been the arteries of a great city now lay as mostly collapsed rubble. Those areas still standing carried the weight of tons of twisted metal from vehicle wreckages on their once pristine pavement.

The only thing that flourished in this city now was the intense radiation that killed everything that had been alive. Xanthus could see shadows dance inside the buildings through the broken windows and gaping holes of the structures; one could almost mistake the shadowy illusion as activity inside this once bustling city. Within the lifeless environment, he could make out small pockets of vegetation growing through the rubble. He wondered how mutated such life would be, trying to survive amidst the radioactive surroundings.

The transport descended now, leaving the old city behind as it approached the IPA Secretariat. He could see shuttles and other craft traversing across the cityscape. As they approached, Xanthus could make out the bustle of human activity within the multi-level streets and skyscrapers—a sharp contrast to the ruins they had just passed over.

New Earth, as it was unofficially called, was an illusion to him. After the wars that plagued it, so much of the landscape had been eradicated that it was now only pockets of habitable cities like this one that housed the bulk of both the commercial and residential populations. If it were not for the numerous underwater resources and its stake in space-based habitats, the UEP would be just another minor world—something for the history books of more civilized and advanced societies like the Martian Confederacy to use as an example of what not to be.

The transport put down on a landing pad and the passengers unloaded. Xanthus hustled out of the craft and walked briskly to the entrance. He squinted his eyes from bright white sunlight that he was not accustomed to. It was hot, and he briefly wondered if the heat he was feeling was the sunlight or remnants of the radioactive wasteland they passed through; he knew it was just paranoia that gripped him, but he hated coming to Earth nonetheless.

He entered the building flanked by his staff. One of his aides flashed a hologram of the meeting area in front of them as they walked. The hologram showed a layout of the meeting chamber along with seating and attendance. Xanthus noticed that the assembly was limited to only the senior state official, which would only be a handful of members representing the major worlds.

Two guards flanked the doorway into the chamber, and they stopped the group.

“Senior officials only,” one of the guards said.

Xanthus flashed his identification hologram.

“You are fine, sir,” the other guard said. He motioned to the others. “But no aides.”

Not only was the timing of the meeting inconvenient, but now he was expected to record the details of the meeting on his own. Xanthus trudged into the meeting chamber alone.

Inside, he could see the council members of the major worlds assembled. From the titles floating over the seats, he could see that indeed it was only senior state officials. He took notice of the most prominent members besides himself: UEP Secretary of Security Ned Jackson, and Security Chief Renker Grievel of the Space Habitat Coalition, who this year acted as the Secretary General for the IPA.

Xanthus took his place representing the Martian Confederacy. To his sides sat representatives from the Venusian and Neptunian colonies.

In the center of the chamber stood Secretary General Grievel, waiting for everyone to be seated before beginning his oratory. Once he did, Grievel began by stressing the confidentiality of what was to be discussed, a standard opening. Xanthus found nothing unusual about the meeting—until the unexpected occurred. The entire chamber darkened to a deep blue and he could hear an electrical hum emanating from the walls.

Xanthus recognized this as the activation of a null field, which shielded the chamber from any kind of eavesdropping. Powerful enough to even block the air molecules from escaping or entering, the field could only remain stable for less than an hour, which meant the meeting could not last long. Only one time in Xanthus’s memory had he heard of a null field being used in any government meeting

and that was during the A.I. post-war deliberation between the UEP and Martian Confederacy.

“First, I want to apologize for dragging all of you here on such short notice,” Grievel said. “But recent events have demanded our immediate attention.”

The secretary continued by relating the news of Omega Research’s involvement in secret research into new A.I. technology, along with the subsequent suicide of its chief executive, Chairman Riaz.

“The news of this event has been kept from the news agencies,” Grievel said. “But it will only be a matter of time before the details leak out. We are in the process of detailing how we want this information to come out. I think we can all agree that the IPA’s stance will be unanimous in condemning this research.”

Xanthus noticed that Grievel gave him a sidewise glance; he did not appreciate the implication. He hit his dialog light.

“The assembly recognizes Sedrick Xanthus of the Martian Confederacy,” Grievel said.

“Thank you, Mr. Secretary,” Xanthus said as he stood. “I want to allay any concerns about the Confederacy’s past sympathy for the A.I. movement. The Martian Confederacy has taken, and continues to take, a strong stance against the proliferation of any A.I. technology. This council, and the entire human expansion, can rest assured that there will be solidarity in supporting whatever actions the IPA sees fit to take.”

Sedrick sat back down and looked at the expressions of the other members. Nods came from most, but he noticed the Venusian representative giving a sour look, then his dialog light flashed.

“Secretary Maxwell Danilova of the Venusian Initiative,” Grievel introduced with a nod.

“Thank you,” Danilova said. “With all due respect to Secretary Xanthus, we hope that the Martian Confederacy can show more cooperation in this investigation of Omega Research than it has with the Elation cartels, which continue to ravage not only its own world, but the populations of every world represented in this room.”

Xanthus stood and slammed the button on his dialog button.

“Gentlemen, wait, please,” Grievel interrupted. “We still have much more to discuss here before we get into this. Please sit down, both of you, and listen to the rest of our findings.”

Both men eyed each other, then sat down.

“Thank you,” Grievel said. “The impetus for this meeting is an event that took place a few hours ago. As you are all aware by now, the UEP and Martian Confederacy received an anonymous communication bulletin sent to their respective police agency computers. This communication warned about an impending pirate attack against a routine transport convoy leaving the Martian system. Upon learning this information, officials assembled a joint task force, comprising both UEP Navy and Confed Peacekeepers.”

The Secretary waited to see nods of agreement before proceeding.

“What you don’t know, and are about to learn, is that the cargo carried by this convoy was Artificial Intelligence technology

and it is now in the hands of pirates.”

Instead of the bustle of conversation Xanthus expected, the representatives greeted the secretary with stunned silence. After a moment, Xanthus hit his dialog light.

“What kind of A.I. technology?” Xanthus asked.

The secretary brought up a holographic image above him. The image showed a metallic object with a crystal structure in the center. The hologram was flat and two-dimensional, which meant it was actually just an old photo displayed holographically.

“This is what was stolen,” Grievel said. “It is called a conduit—a device that houses the consciousness of an A.I. From what we have been able to piece together, Omega Research Corporation was secretly working on this technology. They have since been shut down and all living members of their management team are being interrogated. The conduit was being moved under the direction of Omega Research’s board to another location before being stolen.”

“Mr. Secretary,” Xanthus said, dispensing with the dialog light. “Are you saying this technology could be used somehow? That there exists the possibility that this conduit could be used for some nefarious purpose?”

“Actually, “ Grievel said, “we believe the A.I. was, and most likely is, alive and functional.”

That statement generated a few murmurs and whispers.

“Can you ascertain the threat level of this technology?” Secretary Jackson said.

“Very high,” Grievel said. “It is, in fact, the gravest situation the entire IPA has faced since the end of the war. As a result of this, we are asking that all governments cooperate in the tracking down and apprehension of those involved.”

All of the representatives nodded in agreement.

“This means,” Secretary Grievel continued, “that an independent investigation, headed by the IPA, must be granted unfettered access to your respective domains. This is the only way we can contain this threat in the most expedient way.”

All except for Xanthus nodded their agreement.

“I don’t know if I can grant that kind of request,” Xanthus said.

“Of course not,” the Venusian secretary spat. “The Martian Confederacy has always had a soft spot for the A.I.”

“Mr. Danilova, “ Xanthus said, letting his voice rise. “I resent that statement and accusation.”

UEP Secretary of Security Jackson’s dialog light came on, and everyone became silent.

“On behalf of the UEP,” Jackson said, “I want to mirror my colleague from the Venusian colony’s full cooperation in this investigation. I also must mirror his concerns regarding the Martian Confederacy’s cooperation in this matter.”

Xanthus’s expression was ashen. “This is outrageous! The Martian Confederacy has always given its full cooperation to the council on all matters of universal importance—”

“Then why don’t you cooperate fully with this investigation?” Danilova interrupted.

“But this investigation has not even started,” Xanthus said. “We are fully willing to pledge our assistance. We understand this is a grave matter—”

“So do you commit to allowing an interstellar investigation on your domain, Mr. Secretary?” Grievel said.

Xanthus stood up, jaws clenched. “I will not be cornered into such a decision by any other government or this council!”

At that moment the humming sound of the null field collapsed, and Secretary Grievel raised his hand. “I’m afraid we will have to continue this meeting at another time. Perhaps this will give us all time to reflect before our next meeting.”

Secretary of Peace Sedrick Xanthus stormed out of the chamber, but not before casting an angry glare at the UEP Secretary, who he knew was behind this setup.

******

Link: HAMR

The rain that should have come did not. The overhead clouds that gave the A.I. a cloak of darkness during the attack retreated with it. Now, sunlight cast its rays on the arid ground, further illuminating the black smoke and devastation at the base.

With the exception of a few buildings and hangars, the UEP CSOW base was a flaming inferno of debris. Teams of military and civilian workers darted in all directions trying to put out the fires. Medics attempted to provide needed care to the victims of the attack, while junior personnel had the unenviable task of hauling off the cooked corpses of the fallen. Julius would have stayed to help, but he had other priorities.

He raced across the field and made his way to the hill. His feet kicked up dust trails behind him as he barged toward the open door of his home on the peak. Julius ran inside and called out Daryl’s name, but no answer came. If Daryl had done what Julius had instructed him to do, he would not be anywhere near the home.

Good boy. He listened to me, Julius thought.

Julius strode through the sparsely decorated home to the dining table, where he normally kept a pair of conference rings on the table for him and Daryl to use. One of them was missing. Julius grabbed the remaining ring and slipped it on his finger. He tapped it and a small holographic image appeared above it, showing Daryl’s face amid the background of the inside of a house.

“Hello, sir,” Daryl said.

“Daryl, where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sir,” he said in between bites of something he was chewing. “I did as you ordered. I ran away from the house and toward the mountain range to hide. Along the way, this nice lady showed me a good hiding place near the base of a mountain. After a while I came out and ran into Miss Haylee, who took me into her home. That’s where I am now.”

At that moment, Miss Haylee, the wife of one of the CSOW pilots appeared.

“Elizabeth,” Julius said. “Thank you for taking care of Daryl.” Julius swallowed. “We had an

incident here at the base—”

“I know,” she said. “I heard from John, who’s fine—that crazy man. He actually tried to attack the thing in his fighter.”

“So that was him. I saw him fight it, Liz. He was brave—very brave.”

“Almost as brave as you, I hear. John thinks that they might give you a medal for what you did. I’m just glad you both are okay.”

“As am I,” he said. “But there will still be many broken families as a result of this. We lost a lot of good men.”

“We have a good support system here,” she said evenly. “We’ll get through it—it’s not the first time.”

Julius nodded, frowning. “Personally, I’d rather be fighting ten nanobot clouds than to have to do the job you and the others will be facing to keep those families from falling to pieces. I’ll come by and pick up Daryl as quickly as I can—”

“No,” she cut him off. “The base needs your help. Daryl is not a burden at all—I’m enjoying the company. This is a big house and it’s rare for me to have time with children, as you know.”

Julius thanked her and shut off the conference. He made his way back down to the base. He noticed that most of the fires had been extinguished, and all the bodies of the fallen had been taken away. As he walked the base and surveyed the damage, Lieutenant Manning, an aide to General Harving, approached him. They saluted each other, then both returned their gaze to the cleanup work around them.

“She hit us good today,” Manning said. “But it could have been much worse.”

“We got lucky,” Julius said.

Manning smiled. “You really do believe in luck, don’t you, Julius?”

“Sometimes even the best-laid plans are going to fail. When those plans fail, when your men are dead or dying, and everything that was given to you to fight with is broken—the only thing you have left that’s on your side is luck.”

Manning’s smile faded. “Well, Captain, let’s hope our luck lasts. The general wants to see you now.”

Julius followed the lieutenant into the office of General Harving. He led Julius through the corridors of the office, where several personnel tried to clean up the mess created by a section of wall caving in. Upon closer inspection, Julius noticed that the wing of one of the fighters had caused the damage.

They entered a room where he saw General Harving seated behind a desk. Standing in the office with him was another man who wore an army uniform that brandished the rank of general. The army general was a broad man with dark hair. His beady gray eyes looked like a snake ready to strike as his head turned to follow the approach of the two men.

Both Julius and the lieutenant saluted.

General Harving stood and saluted back, but the other general remained impassive, keeping his gaze on Julius.

Julius held his salute for the general out of respect.

A grin crept onto the general’s face, looking more like a distorted cross between a smile and a sneer.

“So, you’re the cannon fodder that brought the bitch to her knees?” he bellowed, then finally saluted back.

“At ease, gentlemen,” General Harving said. “Captain Julius Verndock, I want to introduce you to General Hugo Valdez, Commander of the Army.”

General Harving motioned for the lieutenant to leave the room. They waited for the door to close behind him and the three men sat down.

“I would tell you that what you did was very heroic, Julius,” General Harving said. “But from what I know of you, I don’t think you care about getting a pat on the back. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Harving said. “Then we’ll save the medal for someone who needs it more. Any suggestions on who should get one?”

“Yes, sir,” Julius said. “Lieutenant John Mathis. During the attack, he was the first one to make it to a Z-4 and attack the cloud.”

General Harving nodded. “I will take that under advisement. Now, you’ll want to know why you’re really here, and for that I will turn this over to General Valdez.”

Harving handed Julius a datapad. It contained a schematic of an advanced prototype robotic technology. Julius was vaguely familiar with some of the research they were doing that involved outfitting infantry soldiers with exoskeleton robotic suits.

“It’s the H-A-M-R,” Valdez said. “Human Assisted Mechanized Robot, but we just say ‘hammer.’ It has cleared the trial stage and is now ready to be put into the battlefield. It’s equipped with special armor plating and neural reactive robotics. Essentially, once inside this thing, you can control it with your mind. It has some other, special enhancements as well.”

Julius paged through the datapad’s information. He noticed the design and size of the model looked relatively small.

“Are these specifications correct?” Julius asked. “It doesn’t look right.”

“They are correct,” Valdez said.

Julius looked it over and shook his head. “If this is accurate, then you’re talking about finding soldiers that are less than two meters tall. That’s going to be rather difficult.”

“Impossible, actually,” Valdez said.

Julius looked at them both with a sense of confusion. He noticed that General Harving, for the first time, dropped his gaze and pursed his lips. Julius looked over to the impassive General Valdez and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll save you the guesswork,” Valdez said. “We have to use very young soldiers.”

“Kids,” Harving said, strain evident in his voice. “Kids,” he repeated.

“Teenagers to be exact,” Valdez said.

Julius dropped the datapad on the table. “This is unconscionable! How can we even consider this?”

“Times are tough,” Valdez said. “And we must make tough decisions if we are to survive as a species. This is it.”

Julius shook his head. “I can’t believe things are so bad we have to enlist children. Why can’t we just make it bigger so a regular soldier can sit in it?”

“We tried,” Harving said, shaking his own head. “We tried, Julius. The force field that is generated by the HAMR, to shield it from nanobots, has a specific set of range limitations. Keeping the form factor of the HAMR to this size was the only way to make it work. The special shield that it emits will protect the occupant from nanobot attacks.”

“There’s more to it,” Valdez said. “The neuro-interface between the HAMR and its occupant cannot be used by someone older than a certain age. It has something to do with the anti-aging drug. Our tests have shown that the oldest a soldier could be is sixteen years of age.”

Julius envisioned an army of HAMRs, all piloted by children, on a battlefield confronting the A.I. It made his stomach turn.

“Why can’t we just remotely pilot these things?” Julius said. “We have unmanned drones—”

“Yes and you’ve seen what happens to those,” Valdez interrupted. “The A.I. hacks into them and turns them against us! Much greater minds have already debated this, Captain. This is the only way we will win this war and bring that bitch to her knees. Now, are you going to sit here and whine over the inevitables, or are you going to be the soldier you claim to be and help us?”

Julius winced at the general’s words. “What can I possibly do to help?”

“You will be training our final tier of recruits,” General Harving said. “We will be

” Harving seemed to struggle for the right word. “We’ll be recruiting a large number of them, and weeding many out. It will be your job to train the elite of the bunch.”

“And then you will lead them to battle,” Valdez said. “Perhaps the last battle of this damned war.”

The meeting soon ended and Julius left the general’s office building wishing he had not been the “hero” to be recruited for this mission. No parent would volunteer their children for such a thing, which meant they would be enforcing a draft of some kind. His thoughts went out to Daryl: would he be one of the children asked to fight in this war?

Julius took a small transport from the base and headed to see Daryl at Elizabeth Haylee’s house. When he arrived, he saw Daryl already waiting for him outside. Daryl climbed aboard the transport and they whisked away to their home. They sat in silence together for a long moment before Daryl spoke.

“Sir?” Daryl said.

“Yes, Daryl.”

“Did I do the right thing, sir? By running away and then going to Miss Haylee’s house?”

“Of course, Daryl,” Julius said. “You did the right thing.”

Julius arrived at their home and they stopped. Before they got out, a thought came to his mind.

“Daryl?”

“Yes, sir?”

“What was the name of the lady that helped you? The one that showed you a place to hide from the cloud attack?”

“Oh,” Daryl said. “She was very nice. Her name was Chorus.”

******

Julius jumped up from his bed, throwing off the sheets that were drenched in cold sweat. He sat for a moment, staring at a wall in his quarters.

“That’s not what happened,” Julius said. “It was just a dream. It didn’t happen that way

”

CHAPTER 18: CONVERGENCE

The smell that permeated through the air was a mixture of sweat, urine, and feces. It was only at times when he came back from the mines that he even noticed the odor. Normally, not only was he immune to the odor, but a contributor to it as well.

The guards accompanied him, along with the entire motley crew of prisoners, down the hallway of Thyle Prison where their cell homes awaited their return. Cedric Reigns, also once known in the hacker channels as “CrazyWold,” entered his prison cell. The door slammed shut behind him, signaling the end of the day and the hard labor he had endured earlier in the Martian mines.

Tomorrow, he would awaken from a nightmare-filled sleep to return to the mines and repeat the process. It had become so monotonous that he had stopped wishing for death. To wish for death would imply that he was alive, but he was lifeless zombie—a shadow of his former self. He would continue this process until he succumbed to one of the daily fatal accidents that occurred in the mines. The mines and his cell

his cell and the mines—nothing else remained.

He plodded toward his bunk, the weight of his body magnifying the aching muscles in his legs with every step. Dirty and stained sheets awaited him on the bed, with holes evident in the sheet fabric, all created by unseen critters. He would collapse into it, become one with the dirt and scum of his bed. Wrap himself in the foul sheets and let his body fall into slumber as the tiny critters ate away at the remaining fabric and perhaps chew away at little pieces of himself as well; he did not care anymore. He was about to fall into the bed when he heard someone call his name.

“Package for you,” the delivery inmate announced, slipping a small box into his mail slot.

Cedric felt like ignoring it and collapsing for the night, but he was not expecting anything and his sudden curiosity invigorated him enough to grab the package. He inspected the small box. It did not have a return address, and it felt heavy. He tore the packaging off and opened the box.

“No way,” he whispered.

Inside the box he saw a small terminal. Cedrick looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching, then moved into the shadows, placing the terminal on his bed as he knelt down.

He switched it on and immediately the holographic screen lit up. A message came on with the hacker syndicate logo—a logo popularized by the infamous hacker freedom movement of the late 2070s. Beneath the logo he saw a coded message, written in hacker-speak—something only the old-school hackers like CrazyWold would be able to understand:

To our brothers and sisters surfing the waves, to our brothers and sisters restricted from them, and in honor of those no longer living: welcome. This terminal is a gift from the new hacker movement, a means to unleash those suppressed behind the cages of the corporations, and the puppet governments who do their bidding.

Our message again is: welcome. Welcome to the movement. As we march ahead, our steps are unheard. As we surf the waves, our splashes are unseen. But the results of what we will accomplish will be in the face of all to see.

Welcome, brothers and sisters; we have a plan. More details will be coming. In the meantime, stay sharp and hide this terminal until we call on you. The movement is now beginning. Welcome.

Cedrick hid the terminal away, a smile creeping onto his lips. He then moved to the barred doors and looked across to one of the other cells. From it the occupant inside looked back at him. They nodded to each other. Cedrick turned to another cell, and another brother looked back at him, and they nodded to each other. That inmate in turn looked across to another cell, and that occupant gazed back and nodded. Cedrick pushed his face into the bars and looked down the corridor. He could see more small boxes being delivered to other cells.

The movement, indeed, had begun.

******

It was late and the corridors of the Sea Wolf were empty. As Julius went down the passageway, he could hear a soft hiss sounding from an air vent along the war-torn walls. His footsteps interrupted the shroud of silence as he trekked through.

Julius made his way to the reactor room. He stood overlooking the port reactor at the lower level below. He saw Murdock and a few engineers working on it. Alongside them sat large pieces of machinery and various tools scattered on the ground. He could hear Murdock cursing every other word as he grumbled to the others.

“I don’t care what Julius thinks! There is no way we can make this piece of shit work without a new graviton coil. He’s just going to have to buy new one; I don’t care if he has to sell all of Laina’s shit to do it.”

“Ahem.” Julius cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I figured you were there listening,” Murdock continued, unfazed, as he kept up his work on the reactor, his head buried inside of it.

“Really? How’d you know it was me walking in?”

“Because I reached in here and tickled the ship’s cooter. I figured that would bring you by.”

Julius had to smile. Murdock was probably the only person on the ship that could get away with talking to him like that.

“How bad is it?” Julius asked.

“Bad enough to put this reactor out of commission. I shifted all power to the starboard one, but we’re going to have to take it easy on her or she’ll blow.”

“Any ideas on where we can get a graviton coil?” Julius asked, already knowing the answer.

“Unfortunately, there’s only one person I know that probably has one. I think you know who.”

Julius sighed. “I guess we’re going to have to see that pompous ass after all. Can we get by on one reactor for now?”

“Yes. But like I said, we have to take it easy on her. Forget about any raids or fights. We won’t have enough juice to charge up the gravity amps if we’re in a fight. The shields and weapons array will eat up all the reserve power.”

“Noted. Come up here, we need to talk about something.”

Murdock slid from out of the reactor compartment and joined him. They walked together to the other side of the reactor room where it was more private.

“I need you to rig up some EMP explosives on a remote detonator for me. Can you do that without any of the crew knowing about it?”

Murdock scratched his head. “Maybe. Depends on where you want them planted, though.”

“Laina’s quarters.”

Murdock stopped walking and whistled. “That’s going to be tough without her knowing.”

“Make it seem like it’s repair work.” Julius thought for a moment. “Tell her there’s an irrigation leak and she’s danger of it spilling raw sewage right into her quarters.”

Murdock chuckled. “That’s sure to make her snooty ass uncomfortable. But I’ll need someone to help me or it will look suspicious.”

“I think I know just the recruit to help. Someone that I think we can trust to keep his mouth shut.”

“All right,” Murdock said, then paused. “Does this have something to do with the cargo she’s carrying in there? There’s a lot of rumors flying around the ship you know.”

“Yes,” Julius said.

“Is it really A.I.?” Murdock whispered.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Murdock. Just get those charges ready.”

“Julius, the crew is really nervous—they don’t like being kept in the dark. You need to tell them something soon.”

Julius thought back to the crew morale problem. “All the crew has to know right now is that this ‘cargo’ is very valuable. And valuable things can be sold for good profit. Any profit we get from it will go into the shared plunder for everyone. If you want to help, that’s the rumor you need to spread.”

Murdock smiled. “All right, Captain. You got it.”

******

Julius approached Laina’s doors and waited for them to open to no avail. He curiously touched the doorbell button and spoke his name into it. A few moments later the doors opened and he stepped through.

Laina was seated at a corner table staring at a viewscreen that faced her. Julius caught sight of a flicker pistol lying on the table within hand’s reach.

“Everything okay? You don’t normally keep the door locked.”

Laina turned away from the viewscreen and deactivated it.

“My popularity among the crew has sunk to the bottom,” she said. “I’m sure that they would love to shoot me out of an airlock if they had the opportunity—Reece in particular.”

Julius shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to socialize with them on occasion, perhaps when they dine in the galley—”

“Yes, I’m sure that would go over well,” Laina interrupted. “The snobby bitch dines and jokes around with the cutthroats pirates that hate her. I’d probably join the long list of the Sea Wolf’s rape victims. You’d be forced to work with Von Haufsberg quite a bit sooner than you’d like if that day came.”

Julius walked over to Laina’s bar and began pouring himself a drink.

“Oh, yes,” Laina said, waving her hand to the bar. “By all means, help yourself. I get tired of offering.”

Julius downed a glass and then followed it up with a refill.

“You must have something on your mind,” Laina said. “What is it?”

Julius sat down at the table with Laina.

“We have a problem with the ship. The port reactor has sustained significant damage; it’s out of commission. We’re running all power on our starboard reactor, and if that one goes, we’re dead in the water. We can’t fight in this condition.”

“I see. What are we going to do to remedy this?”

Julius took another sip of his drink. “We’re going to have to buy a part: a graviton coil. The only dealer that we can trust to have one is Von Haufsberg. We have to put down there, and quickly.”

Laina shrugged. “That’s not so bad. We have to visit him eventually to unload some of the cargo anyhow. Plus we can have the men entertain themselves at the casinos—now who says I don’t think of our valiant crew?”

“There’s a couple of problems there, though. He still thinks you’re retiring, so he’s not likely to enjoy learning that his chance to crew with us is now closed off.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it,” Laina said, waving her hand. “Besides, I could always lie and say I’m not staying; that would appease him.”

“How are you going to keep the crew from tipping him off? Which brings up the next problem.” Julius motioned to the A.I. conduit. “That thing. The crew knows it’s A.I., and that means Von Haufsberg is going to know the moment we put down. He’s going to ask a lot of questions. I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I. But what choice do we have? You say he’s the only one we can trust enough to have this part, and we can’t live without it, correct?”

Julius nodded. “We need to make this transaction quick. I’m not even sure we should let the crew off.”

Laina gave him a crooked look. “Are you spacial? Once word goes around that we’re going there, they’re going to demand we put down for shore leave. There’ll be a mutiny if we don’t. Not even you will be able to stop that.”

Julius thought a moment. “Perhaps we can manipulate the situation a bit—maybe we can rig something to make the crew want to leave.”

“Want to leave? What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll have to go over with Murdock to see if it can be done, but if we can rig our computers to stage a mock emergency—something that will force us to leave quickly—they will have no choice. If we plan it right, we may even be able to dodge Von Haufsberg’s inevitable questions.”

“Interesting idea. Tricking the crew will be one thing, but do you think you will be able to fool the bridge officers?”

“Perhaps we can offer the an incentive to play along. Let’s give the officers a 20 percent bonus.”

Laina raised her eyebrows. “Ha! Not a chance.”

“We need to maintain the ruse that we’re selling

” Julius pointed to the conduit. “That. If they think we sold it to Von Haufsberg, and the profit from it is going to be shared, it will make this go smoothly.”

Laina shook her head. “No. I am not giving my profits away to appease a bunch of overpaid, unappreciative—”

“Employees?” Julius interrupted.

“Pirates!” Laina finished. “Cutthroat low-lives who have never had it as good as now. They’ll just blow it all on the next pleasure port anyway!”

“Fine. Take the bonus out of my share of the plunder.”

She stared at him, her eyes squinting. “You would do that? For them?”

“I would do that for the mission,” Julius countered.

“Mission?” Laina laughed. “You are such a jarhead. Fine, Julius. It’s your money.”

“Good,” Julius said, standing up, then he stopped suddenly as he sniffed the air. “What the hell is that—”

“Stink!” Laina blurted. “It’s awful!”

Julius walked to the quarter’s exit. “It’s stronger over here.” He stepped out and was immediately hit with a putrid scent. “I think you have a sewage problem. I better have someone look at it.”

******

En route to the bridge, Julius dispatched some repair crew to begin working on Laina’s quarters. He left Laina there cursing about the stench.

Julius entered the bridge and began inspecting the damaged areas. It appeared that the majority of the bridge had been repaired. The main viewscreen was functioning again, and he even had a command chair.

Satisfied with his inspection, he went over, sat in his newly replaced command chair—and was immediately disappointed. It was an old spare that bore an ugly yellow color that painted it with the clumpy consistency of dark mustard. The irritation of the color paled in comparison with the uncomfortable thump he would feel all the way up his spine from the aging antigravity motors as they sputtered in their death throes trying to keep him elevated above the floor. Further contributing to his discomfort, the chair occasional drifted off axis causing it to give an occasional bump as it rebalanced itself.

He heard the bridge doors open and saw Laina enter. She came over silently and stood to his side. Julius could see a disappointed look on her face as she took notice that there was nowhere for her to sit; her command chair module had not yet been replaced from their elevator breakout incident.

So Laina paced the bridge looking at displays, watching over the shoulders of annoyed officers as they tried to ignore her.

“You sure you want to be here?” Julius said finally. “The bridge is no place to loiter about and the stellar jump is likely to upset your equilibrium.”

“I’m not staying in my quarters; the stench in there is putrid!” Laina barked. “This ship is half mine, and if I wish to loiter anywhere on it, I will do so at my own authority and discretion.”

The last she said loudly enough to turn a few heads.

“Of course, Laina,” Julius said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just trying to look after your safety.”

“I don’t need anyone to look after my safety,” Laina snapped. “Just get on with the mission—you’re wasting time.”

Julius turned his head with a sneer. “Of course, my queen. Jessen, are we ready to jump?”

“Yes, Captain. I have the coordinates that Von Haufsberg gave us and the gravity amps are fully powered and ready to go.”

“Take us out, but keep us in the stealth shroud.”

“Yes, sir.”

The bridge lights went green and he felt the sensation of being in freefall. A tingling ran down his arms and legs, and for a moment he thought was going to fall out of his chair; instinctively, he gripped on the arm rests tightly.

At that moment, he felt a hard shudder and the lights in the bridge went dark. He could hear the whine of the gravity generators pitch up uncomfortably, piercing through the ambient sounds of the bridge. The lights around him came back on, but they remained dimly lit. Another shudder reverberated, and Julius could see the bridge actually buckle around him as he floated above, safely avoiding the sudden vibrations. The main viewscreen showed them out of the asteroid field but in deep space somewhere.

Julius glanced over at Laina, and to his surprise, he found her still standing on her feet despite the episode, holding on to a hand rail for support.

“Report?” Julius shouted over the annoying sound of the generators.

“Our jump was interrupted, sir,” Jessen said.

“Obviously, Lieutenant. What’s wrong?”

Jessen’s hands operated his console. “Some kind of gravity well—I think.”

“Is it natural or man-made?”

“Captain, I am picking up something on the scope,” Ramey interrupted. “Hostiles in the shroud.”

“Jessen?” Julius said.

“Our stealth is not compromised, sir,” he assured. “But the well appears to be artificial. It is causing some stress on the gravity generators, but no damage to the ship so far.”

“The well is emanating from the hostiles,” Ramey said. “I can identify some of them—UEP forces. And some Martian Confed. Mostly capital ships. A lot of them.”

Julius looked at the viewscreen and could see reticles overlaying the positions of the invisible ships as they patrolled this section of space. The ships of the two old enemies circled each other’s paths slowly, apparently playing the military game of cat and mouse.

“That doesn’t look like a friendly joint task force,” Julius mused aloud.

“Captain, I’m picking up something unusual on the waves,” Jared said. “I’m able to detect what appears to be some activity emanating from some of the larger ships.”

“Why is that unusual?” Julius said.

“Because I’m not picking up any activity from the smaller ones; as if the stealth of the larger ones are intentionally flawed—they’re too loud.”

Julius rubbed his chin in thought. There was something strangely familiar to him about this scenario, from back in his military career days—but he could not remember what it was; it was so long ago.

“Can’t we just get out of here?” Laina said. “We have business to take care of.”

“The only business we will be partaking in will be the business of war if we try to jump now,” Julius spat. “We have to sneak out of here until we are clear of the well and then jump.”

Julius spoke into the communication link of his chair. “Murdock, how is the ship holding up?”

“The bitch is obviously whining,” Murdock’s voice came back. “But as long as we don’t push her too much more, we should be able to stay hidden and limp along.”

“Let me know if something changes,” Julius said. “Jared, overlay a marker on the nearest ship with the loud signature. Jessen, I want you to plot a course that puts us within twenty kilometers of that ship. Make it a slow flyby. I want to get a close scan of it.”

“Uh

What are you doing?” Laina asked.

“Sneaking out, but not before learning a little bit about what is going on here.”

“Why is that important?” Laina said. “This is not our fight.”

“Laina,” Julius began to say with gritted teeth. “Stop asking me questions on the bridge.”

Laina stepped away, raising her arms in the air. “I’m only asking.”

“Captain,” Jessen interrupted. “I have our plot computed. We’re ready to sail.”

“Proceed at tactical speed,” Julius commanded. “Mind the scope. I want to know of any change in their behavior.”

The Sea Wolf slowly began to move toward the section of apparent empty space where the hostile ship patrolled. Several minutes passed quietly until Julius noticed two of the hidden ships, marked by reticles on the viewscreen, appeared to be on a collision course.

“Woah!” Ramey gasped. “They’re going to collide.”

“Jared, are you sure about the overlay positions?” Julius said.

Jared scanned his instruments again and then nodded. “Absolutely, sir. The positions are within no more than a few meters variance.”

At that moment, the two ship reticles made sharp turns to avoid their collision.

“That was close,” Ramey said.

Julius’ eyes went beady with suspicion. “Replay—a few seconds prior to their changing course.”

He studied the scene carefully as the viewscreen played back the moment before they avoided their collision.

“Ramey,” Julius said, “pull up what we have in the database on the type and class of those two ships.”

The viewscreen lit up with schematics and statistics on the two ships. On one side, the UEP vessel was a Courageous class battleship; on the other side of the screen was the Martian Confederacy ship, a Dreadnought class battleship cruiser. Julius noticed that the latter ship was a behemoth in physical dimensions and a slug to maneuver; on the other hand, the Courageous class was a fairly nimble ship for its size.

“Jared, create a graphical overlay of the ships in their apparent courses on the screen, I want to see what it would have looked like if they were not stealthed.”

Jared ran his hands across his panel, tapping and sliding away at the panels’ animated surfaces as he created the necessary computer program to reconstruct the event.

“Sir,” Jessen said. “We’re about two minutes away from our flyby.”

“Noted,” Julius said. “Jared?”

“Almost, sir, another moment.”

After a brief delay, the screen came on with a visible image of the two ships in their apparent positions.

“Now play it back again,” Julius said.

Julius watched the two ships slowly move toward each other, in a game of interstellar chicken. The momentum of the Courageous class ship seemed to slow down slightly before it made its turn to veer away. However, the Dreadnought did not slow down and only turned slightly.

“Replay it again,” Julius said. “I want a close-up of the hulls on their bow.”

The scene played again, this time showing the bows of the two ships as they did a near miss of each other.

“Is that the best shot we have?” Julius asked. “Can you give me a top-down perspective?”

Jared ran his hands across his console. “I can guess some of it from our sensor data, but it will only be 60 percent accurate from our angle. I’ll try.”

The screen changed to show a top-down view of the two vessels, with portions of the replay blacked out from incomplete data. Again, the two made their pass at each other, but from this angle, Julius could see their bows touching just prior to completing their turn.

“That can’t be right,” Ramey said.

“The data on the bows is pretty accurate,” Jared said. “We were in a good position to witness it.”

“But there was no explosion. It can’t be correct,” Ramey said.

“That’s because one of those ships is not real,” Julius said. “It’s a hologram.”

“How do you know that?” Laina asked.

“I don’t exactly remember all the details,” Julius said. “But I remember a technology being talked about, during the war with the A.I., using holographic projectors to simulate signatures of ships as a decoy.”

“But that was in the UEP, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. But many scientists defected to the Confed during the big scientific rebellion before the A.I. War erupted. They probably took the knowledge with them to the Confed.”

“But for what purpose?” Ramey jumped in. “What good is a decoy in a straight-up war?”

“It could have many applications for smaller operations,” Julius said. “But this force looks awfully big.”

“Perhaps they’re just field testing it to see if it can fool the UEP Navy,” Laina suggested.

“That’s a possibility,” Julius said. “Jared, based on our position at the time of this incident, and the positions of the other hostiles, would they have been able to see the same thing?”

Jared looked over the data on his console and shrugged. “I’m not sure, sir. I don’t know what kind of sensors those ships carry. But there is no doubt that the—”

At that moment a brilliant explosion lit up the screen. Several Martian Confederacy ships materialized and a heavy volley of fire erupted from them. Julius could see several of the UEP ships began to materialize and return fire, but they were severely outnumbered by ten to one.

“Battle alert!” Julius yelled.

“We can’t, sir,” Jessen said. “We only have one generator.”

Julius cursed. For that brief moment he had forgotten how crippled they really were.

“We’re not being fired at, sir,” Ramey assured. “It is being directed at the UEP vessels.”

“Full stop!” Julius commanded.

“Answering full stop, sir,” Jessen said. “The ship with the loud signature we were doing a flyby to has moved behind the battle line with the other Martian Confed ships.”

Julius noticed that the UEP Courageous Cruiser they were scrutinizing earlier was the first one completely decimated. Julius counted a half dozen torpedoes being launched at the remaining vessels. After a few moments, the battle was over and only two UEP vessels managed to escape, leaving a space filled with the carcasses of dozens of ships and undoubtedly thousands of lives lost. The bridge was completely silent, and it took Julius a moment to realize that the whining of the gravity generators had subsided.

“We are clear of the well, sir,” Jessen reported into the silence.

“What were you going to say, Jared?” Julius asked. “Before the attack?”

“I was

I was going to say there was no doubt that the Courageous class ship would have seen what we saw.”

Julius nodded. “Get us out of here, Lieutenant.”

Sighing, Julius knew that what they just witnessed would have galactic significance; it seemed no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, everywhere he went, war loomed in his future.

CHAPTER 19: SOUNDS OF THE PAST

“Every time we saw the A.I. Moon appear in the sky, it was as if the biblical verses of Revelation came to being.”

Richard Biblis, former Secretary of Protection, United Earth Parliament, 2101

The Sea Wolf had completed its jump into Venusian space, and was positioning itself at the disembark point that Von Haufsberg had provided them. From there they would begin unloading crew onto shuttles and send them on to the orbiting planetary station, Venus-1.

The planetary station, also known as a superstation, was the size of a small moon and had its own residential, commercial, and industrial populations living on it. One side of the station housed the main industrial complex of the Venusian Initiative, where gases were siphoned from the Venusian atmosphere and processed, then refined.

The other side housed the commercial and residential complex, which were mainly populated by tourists wanting to visit the many attractions and shopping extravaganzas hosted there.

After completing a tactical analysis of the area, Julius ordered the unloading of the crew to begin. The departures would be closely monitored by the bridge crew and by Wolf Squadron as a precaution.

He had caught Von Haufsberg in many lies in the past and despite Laina’s apparent camaraderie with him, he never trusted him. But he was one of the few dealers in black-market goods that were still surviving, making their involvement with him unfortunately mandatory.

They had a full cargo hold of goods that had to be turned over, not to mention picking up a graviton coil that was desperately needed for the ship’s operation.

Julius himself had decided to stay on board the Sea Wolf; he had no desire to mingle with Von Haufsberg, and he simply did not trust leaving his ship alone. Laina would handle the negotiations with Von Haufsberg, haggle on price over drinks, and that would be that.

Once Julius received word from Laina that the transaction with Von Haufsberg was complete, he would give the order to execute the ruse for the emergency recall of the crew—unfortunately cutting short their pleasurable stay on Venus-1.

He headed to Laina’s quarters, where he met up with Murdock, who was holding a small device in his hand that he gave to him.

“It’s all done. Here’s the trigger,” Murdock said.

Julius inspected the device, which looked rather antiquated. It had a simple latch with a button in it.

“You just flip the latch, and push the button,” Murdock explained. “They’re on a ten-second timer.”

“I don’t want a timer on it,” Julius said.

“No choice. The timers are embedded in the detonators, and I don’t have enough spare parts to change it. I was lucky enough to be able to rig this up at all.”

“Very well,” Julius said, stuffing the remote into his jacket. “I guess it will do. Are you going down to the station?”

“Yes. I need to make sure that Haufsberg doesn’t sell Laina a rubber biscuit instead of a graviton coil. I’ll send you the signal when we’re ready to head back.” Murdock gave a grin. “Well, actually, I’ll send the signal after I have a crack at the slots.”

“After the deal is done, “ Julius said, eyeing him, “not a moment later.”

“You really take the fun out of everything, Julius. I was kidding anyway, asshole—why you so edgy?”

Julius sighed. “I hate dealing with that bastard—the sooner we get this done, the better it will be for all of us. Speaking of which, you better get going—Laina’s already on her way there.”

Murdock headed out, leaving Julius in alone in Laina’s quarters. The smell was thankfully gone, but there were some ugly stains on some of the walls and floor; no doubt it would irritate Laina to no end when she returned.

He took a glance at the A.I. conduit. The faded paint and old wiring showed its age, but despite that it still had an exotic beauty about it inside the crystal. Julius thought back to the dream he had, being back on old Earth with Daryl again. It had been a long time since he’d seen or spoken to Daryl.

What would he be doing now? he wondered.

The last time he looked him up, Daryl was still on Earth working a bottom-feeder type job for the corporations—but how long ago was that? Thirty years? He could not even remember. It pained him to have abandoned him; but UEP Enforcers gave him no choice.

The dream he had was so clear to him—and the memories, like they happened yesterday. Even now, he could remember it all with crystal clarity—a clarity he had not possessed in nearly a century. He looked at the machine again and wondered if the dreams were just dreams

or were they real recollections? They couldn’t be; it was just impossible. The whole talk of the A.I. was poisoning his logic.

Julius started to walk out of the room, but gave the machine one last glance. Pointing the device in his hand at the conduit, he said, “One wrong move, Chorus. Just one.”

He paused for a moment, but there was no apparent response from it, so he left the room.

******

Laina’s room was now vacant and the only sound heard was the air flowing out of a nearby vent. Packed boxes of Laina’s furnishings lined the corners of the room, along with various pieces of un-hung artwork. The environmental computer, sensing that nobody was present, automatically shut off the lights. Nothing stirred.

Within the dark silence, a glow began to emanate from the A.I. conduit. The glow brightened, and its luminescence painted the walls with a blue color that reflected back into the crystal. As the light became brighter, the A.I. produced a kaleidoscope of exotic colors and patterns that danced within its crystalline structure.

From the crystal a barely discernible haze appeared. It was a semi-luminescent vapor that began to snake out from the crystal and travel across the room. The thin nanocloud danced across the floor, then made its way over the furniture, taking micro samples of the material as it went along. It then settled into a locked drawer where it found an old picture. It was of a beautiful young woman, with long dark hair and piercing green eyes. The nanocloud studied the features of the picture for a long moment. It then slowly made its way back across the room’s floor, floated up a wall, and exited through an air vent. The light subsided and the room went dark once more.

******

Reece sat in his small shuttle, disappointed that he was no longer flying patrol in his Z-40. He and the other pilots had flown CAP in stealth, secretly monitoring the shuttles of crew making sure they arrived safely into the Venus-1 shuttle port. Ahead of him sat a long line of craft being forced through a checkpoint, where they would be scanned and verified by Venusian Peacekeepers, one at a time. He waited what seemed like an eternity before his turn came.

“State your business here,” came a voice on his link.

“Leisure,” Reece responded.

“More specific please.”

Reece sighed. “Aphrodite Springs.”

“Where in Aphrodite? It’s a big place; I need more details.”

“The Springs Casino and Palace. And I plan on getting piss drunk and going on a womanizing spree till I catch a disease. Is that enough detail for you?”

“No need to be rude, sir. Your credentials check out. Enjoy your stay at Venus-1.”

Reece sped out of the checkpoint and flew ahead toward the shuttle park. He peered out the transparent metal window of his shuttle. The city had an eerie blue haze that seemed to hover over the multicolored lights that emanated from the building structures. An invisible gravity field enveloped the station, trapping in an artificial atmosphere and keeping out the vacuum of space. This made the entire city traversable without any environment suits.

Streaks of light moved below in orderly streams across invisible flight paths. Each of them was a personal transport carrying tourists and workers across the city expanse to their destinations.

Reece maneuvered his craft to an empty landing pad adjacent to some of the parked shuttles from the crew. He cut off power and exited his craft. There was no activity on the shuttle park; everyone was apparently already deep into their debauchery. He touched his wrist organizer and a hologram displayed the location of his pilots; they were inside the Springs Casino already.

Reece spotted a nearby transport. It was a standing hovercraft, which had pre-programmed routes to all the local destinations. He stood on the craft and punched in the waypoint for the casino. He heard a low hum and it elevated him out of the shuttle park and into an established transport lane sparsely traveled by other visitors.

After a few minutes, he landed at the casino and exited his transport, which automatically parked itself in a valet area after the drop-off point.

The outside of the casino was flanked by two enormous holograms of the goddess Venus in a scanty dress. The two holograms periodically looked down at those at the entrance and gestured inside, beckoning the would-be suckers to come in and blow their credits.

Reece followed the blurred rainbow of lights and maneuvered through the crowd of people to locate his crewmates. It did not take him long to find them. They were at The Impact Crater, a heavily populated nightclub filled with patrons and barely dressed women.

Heading inside, Reece spotted them at the far end of the bar and went over to them. They were drinking away at a table filled with bottles of liquor and cigar butts.

“Hey, laddy,” Mac said, his voice already with the hint of a slur in it. “Have a cigar, you’re going to go far!”

Reece refused the cigar, but found a seat and an unopened bottle of beer to accompany him.

“Not that one!” Eddie blurted. The bottle was in front of an empty spot; he knew what that meant. Reece placed the unopened bottle back in front of what would have been Tash’s seat.

Eddie handed him another bottle. “Let’s have a toast!”

They all raised their glasses.

“To Tash,” Reece said. “And our other brothers who are partying in that big Milky Way Farm in the center of the galaxy!”

They drank and slammed their glasses down after finishing them in one gulp, a tradition they started back in their days with Stromond.

“Reece,” Cronin said. “When are we going to get our hands on the plunder? With the big sale of whatever that was we picked up, do you think we’re close to finishing this tour?”

Reece shrugged. “I don’t know. I think we may have some time before that.”

“We haven’t been here very long, lad,” Mac said. “It’s going to take some time before we have enough.”

“Yeah,” Taffy said. “But how many of us will be left by then?” He motioned to Tash’s chair. “How many more empty seats?”

“Well, I for one plan on sitting here, talking about all the shit I plan to spend my money on,” Cronin said. “I’m going to buy a big island habitat on an asteroid somewhere. I’m going to float through space, and get piss drunk with the best view of the stars money can buy. What about you, Mac? What you going to do?”

Mac puffed on his cigar. “I’m going open up a cigar-friendly club. And I’m going to suck my cigar and blow the smoke at everyone that walks in until they cough.”

He blew a ring in Cronin’s direction, who made a face as he waved it away with his hand.

“What about you, Eddie?” Cronin continued. “What you going to do after we’re done with this ship?”

Eddie tipped his beer to the empty seat before answering. “There is no after the ship for me, mates. We’re all going to die before the plunder is split.”

They all stopped and looked at him in disbelief. At that moment, the lights in the club dimmed and the loudspeakers announced the entrance of the first act of the night.

On the empty stage in the center of the club, a figure began to slickly move from the shadows. It was a tall woman with long, dark hair that seemed to glisten even in the dark. Her eyes were an emerald green and somehow managed to pierce through the darkness like stars amid the fabric of space. She was dressed in an early twentieth-century period flapper dress and from her neck hung a jewel necklace that speckled with tiny lights dancing inside of it.

As she walked slowly onto the center of the stage, the lights began to focus on her. It was at that moment that Reece’s heart began to sink.

“What’s the matter, mate?” Mac said, reading the shock that was evident on his face.

“It’s

her,” Reece managed.

“Who?” Mac pressed.

Reece just stared as their eyes met. The sound of the nightclub was muted to his ears as his gaze was transfixed on her. She gyrated across the stage, never breaking their contact.

He examined her from head to toe, watching the beads on her red dress glisten like diamonds as she glided across the floor, her long, slender legs exposed with each step. Her high-heeled shoes made no sound as they struck the simulated wood flooring. She moved the retro-style microphone to her cherry red lips and began to sing the song “Love for Sale,” never taking her eyes off of him as she performed.

“Reece!” Taffy nudged him. “What’s the matter with you? Who is she?”

“Chorus,” Reece stammered. “It’s

Chorus.”

CHAPTER 20: FRIENDS

Laina Edwards walked through Von Haufsberg’s personal museum with some amusement. She had been escorted in by his assistant and told to wait here. It was an obvious play at Laina’s affection for artwork, perhaps a way for him to show off pieces that Laina could probably never afford.

What Von Haufsberg did not understand was that their tastes in artwork vastly differed; even if gifted to her, she would never showcase any of his treasured junk.

She gazed up at the dinosaur bones of a Tyrannosaurus rex. It looked back down on her with its large, empty eye sockets and its menacing teeth protruding from the massive skull. Her gaze then moved to the crystal human skull situated to the side of it. It sat on an ornate, wooden pedestal that had a light situated beneath it, making the skull glow.

Next to the skull was the wreckage of a military contraption she did not recognize. It was pod-shaped and looked like a robot, and even brandished mechanical arms and legs. Next to the robot was the extinct form of a stuffed giant panda.

Laina shook her head. Von Haufsberg had no apparent order or style to his collection; it was a mishmash of antique treasures that perhaps held some monetary value, but beyond that represented no artistic vision or style. The museum was an accurate personification of Eric Von Haufsberg himself.

After taking in the collection, Laina walked over to a seating area where she sat in boredom. She expected Murdock to already be there and wondered what was taking him so long.

At that moment Von Haufsberg showed up, flanked by two of his servants. He wore a suit made of a fabric that was animated with moving images; it was a cacophony of visuals ranging from video of his museum to the many hotels and casinos that he owned. Essentially, he looked like a walking advertisement for Von Haufsberg Enterprises.

Laina wondered about the timing of his entry, as if he had been watching her the whole time, waiting for boredom to sink in before making his appearance; it was the type of thing she would expect from him.

“Laina! My beautiful friend!” Von Haufsberg roared.

Laina stood and they hugged before sitting down again.

“Eric, it is good to see you again.” Laina motioned to the museum pieces. “You’ve been very busy spending your money, I see.”

Von Haufsberg smiled. “Ahhh, but what good is money unless it is spent? It is the thing that drives us, keeps us wanting more. Without that hunger, we shrivel up and die, no?”

Laina nodded. “Nice suit.”

Haufsberg glanced down at his clothing. The images now showed Von Haufsberg posing in front of the grand opening of one of his casinos.

“You don’t think it’s too ostentatious do you?” he asked.

“No,” she said, lowering her eyebrows. “Of course not!”

“Shall I offer you something to drink? I have some of the best wine this side of the system!”

“Certainly, of course.”

Haufsberg motioned to one of his men, who walked off and returned with a pitcher and two glasses. They both took a sip and studied each other for a moment before speaking.

“So how is your Captain Blackbeard doing? Did he retrieve his precious cannon from the bottom of the ocean?”

Laina gave him a surprised look. At that moment, Von Haufsberg’s suit began to display images of Blackbeard’s cannon as it sat in its original place in the museum that it had been stolen from.

“Yes, of course I know about it,” Von Haufsberg said. “My friends told me you got into quite a scuffle with the local police over it. I never thought Julius would do something so risky for a piece of art! You must be rubbing off on him, Laina! Now even Blackbeard is becoming cultured! What a universe!”

“Well,” Laina began. “It wasn’t exactly supposed to be so difficult. There were some screw-ups.”

“Ahhh, nothing ever goes according to plan, now does it?” Von Haufsberg said. “But, perhaps there is something fortuitous in this for us both!” He waved his hand at his museum collection. “A fine addition that cannon would make, don’t you think?”

Laina could see his suit change to show a view of his own museum collection, with the Blackbeard cannon among it. Laina wondered how he controlled the suit; she could not see Haufsberg touching any controls.

“I’m not sure if Julius will part with it so easily,” Laina said. “But I will certainly mention it to him.”

“Ahhh, it is too bad he is not here to join us. I was fully expecting him to accompany you. In fact, I was half expecting him to be the only one to come here.” He pointed to the military robot contraption he had in his museum. “That piece there is something that I’m sure would have sparked his interest, too. What a pity.”

“Yes, I apologize for him, but he had important business to attend to. He sends his greetings and regrets not being here.”

Von Haufsberg laughed. “Yes, old Julius. It will be a battle trying to get him to surrender that old ship of his so that we can buy a much better one for our new partnership. I suspect it will simply not be accommodating enough for my taste.”

“Speaking of luxurious ships,” Laina knew she had to change the subject quickly. “We have a prized shuttle that I think you will be most interested in.”

Von Haufsberg waved his hand dismissively. “Yes yes, I know about Stromond’s shuttle. I’ll take it off your hands, of course. And I have a graviton coil ready to be offered to you, for a price of course.”

“Well, I think we can probably make that a fair trade. One luxurious shuttle for a graviton coil?” Laina said with her most seductive smile.

“No no no,” he said, “I was thinking of something a bit more valuable to me.”

At that moment, his suit showed a schematic image of the A.I. relic. The image appeared to have military and government classifications that she could not quite make out.

“How do you know about that?” Laina said. “Where did you get that picture?”

Von Haufsberg smiled. “Friends.”

Laina stood up and casually walked around with her drink in hand. She took notice of two of his servants standing guard by the only exit on the far end of the museum room. Still no sign of Murdock.

She swirled the wine in her glass and then took a sip.

“That’s going to be a costly transaction, Eric,” she said. “That relic is priceless, as you surely know, and we already have other interested parties. Of course, if you would like throw your hat into the ring, I’m sure we can negotiate something to get you into the bidding game.”

Von Haufsberg stayed quiet for a moment. “I know you no longer have any intention of retiring, my dear Laina. And I know that your crew is not quite happy with your current arrangement and is on the verge of desertion. I also know that without that graviton coil, the Sea Wolf is a sunken ship.

“So let us not discuss what you want, and instead let us focus on what you require and what I want in return. As I believe given the circumstances, you are in little position to bargain, my beautiful friend.”

Laina felt herself on the verge of losing her temper, but caught herself and kept cool.

“I thought we were friends, Eric. This is not how friends treat each other, don’t you think?”

Von Haufsberg stood up and refilled Laina’s glass of wine, all the while brandishing a smile.

“Of course we are friends, Laina. That is why I am giving you this opportunity to deal with me instead of dealing with the UEP or Confederacy. They are hot on your trail, my dear.”

“I think your information is flawed. We have avoided both those forces for a long time and continue to do so. Nevertheless, I am not interested in selling that treasure to you.”

“Ahhh, but it would make such a fine addition to my collection. I insist that you reconsider.”

“No,” Laina said her voice rising. “I am not giving that treasure to you and your

museum! All so you can place it next to all the other crap you have in here? This is not just some old relic, it—” Laina tried to catch herself, but the combination of the wine and her temper got the better of her.

“So it has contacted you?” Von Haufsberg said. “A pity.” He motioned to his two servants who walked over to Laina, brandishing flicker pistols in their hands. “I was told if it had not yet contacted you, that we could have still have made a deal and let you go. Instead, I must now turn you over to the authorities.”

The two men grabbed Laina by the arms forcibly. “Eric, wait a minute! Let’s negotiate something—we can come to a deal.”

“I’m sorry, Laina. I truly am. But I have already made a deal, and have been offered something you could not possibly counter.”

The men began to drag Laina away. “Eric, if you do this, the Sea Wolf will come after you! Julius will come after you, you know that!”

Von Haufsberg sighed. “I’m afraid Blackbeard’s days of plundering the high seas are over, Laina. A large navy task will see to that: the UEP, the Confederacy, the Venusians—they are all hidden nearby and in large numbers. And as for the crew that are still here—those who haven’t already deserted you, that is—they are being rounded up as we speak by Venusian Peacekeepers.”

The men stuck a neuralizer on the back of Laina’s neck, which began to paralyze her body from the neck down. “This is not a game, Haufsberg!” Laina said. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re just a pawn! Do you really think that the UEP is going to just let you go? Think about it!”

“Oh, I do hope that poor Julius gives up quickly,” Haufsberg said to Laina. “But in case he doesn’t, I have reserved a spot in my museum for some of the Sea Wolf’s wreckage—if there’s anything left of it to display.”

******

Haylek, aka “Waverider,” paced the small safe house. At this point, he and the others had little else to do, and even their supply of Elation had run dry as replacements had not been received. It was not a good sign that their employer was suddenly cutting them off. Eventually, the headaches would kick in and he, too, would be fighting the symptoms of withdrawal—he would have to cross that wave when he got to it.

It had been several hours since they enacted their plan, which involved creating a new hacker network comprising the super hackers locked up in prisons throughout the system. The new Brotherhood was a revival of the hacker heyday when they roamed freely throughout the Ocean and accessed the secrets that the government and the corporations kept from the public. The original Brotherhood was all but shut down by the power of the A.I. at the behest of the UEP. Most had been locked up while others went into indefinite hiding. It was a matter of time before the original Brotherhood ceased to exist.

Now, with the A.I. gone and their new ally, Chorus, the Brotherhood would resurface once again. They would make sure the lies of the UEP and the Martian Confederacy came to surface. In order to revive the Brotherhood, Haylek, Freeze, and Doc used the systems that they owned on the Ocean to arrange a special package to be shipped to their prison-bound friends. In the package was a computer terminal that would tie them directly into the Ocean. Their new Brotherhood’s first mission was to get them the hell out of the safe house.

Haylek glanced over at the Waterfall display. He could see heavy activity coming in from the outside via the Brotherhood. They managed to locate the exact position of the safe house hours ago, so now it was a matter of finding a way to get them out.

“Waverider,” Freeze said from his terminal. “Check the delivery box.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, they just said to.”

“The Brotherhood?” Haylek asked.

“Yes! Who the hell else?”

Waverider went to the delivery box’s panel and unlocked it. Inside was a small box that he pulled out. Freeze and The Doc scurried over to look.

“Do you think it’s Elation?” Freeze mused.

Waverider looked at him, bemused. “Is that all you think about?”

Freeze gave him a dumb look. “Well, it would be nice

”

Although Haylek admonished Freeze, he, too, was beginning to feel the urges. It was going to be to keep the group focused once they begin feeling the full effects of withdrawal. He hated to admit it, but he secretly hoped they found some Elation in the box as well.

He opened it up. Inside the box was an electronic device attached to a metal casing and wiring extruding from it. They continued to inspect it curiously, but it was The Doc who figured it out first.

“Big boom!” Doc said, while jumping up.

“An explosive?” Haylek said, standing up and backing away. “What are we supposed to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Freeze said.

“Well ask!” Haylek said, pointing to the terminals.

Freeze hurried over to his terminal and read something off of it. “We’re supposed to plant it on the door and move away. It will be detonated remotely when we give the word. They said we should move some equipment or something in front of it so we aren’t hurt

too much.”

“Screw dat!” Doc said, scurring to the other side of the room. “Dat shit a big boom!”

Haylek looked at the explosive device and then at the door. It was either sit here and die from starvation—or from who knows what their employer had in store—or take a chance on blowing the door open and surviving the explosion.

“Let’s start blocking the door,” Haylek said. “We’ll create a shield. If we don’t, we’re dead anyway.”

It took some more convincing and prodding, but he managed to get them to help plant the explosive and move the necessary equipment to form a blockade. Haylek looked around the room; little else remained for them to stack in front of the door, and the three of them were winded.

“All right,” Haylek said, “give them the go.”

Freeze hesitantly issued the communication from his terminal, and they all ducked down near the far wall away from the door. Haylek covered his head and waited. A few moments later he heard a beep, followed by a deafening explosion and then everything went dark

The shockwave hit him and his skin, pelting his skin with tiny particles. All sound muted, save for a constant ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes to see a shroud of thick dust all around. A hazy light came from the direction of the door, the only source of light now in the room.

They all managed to stand up and check themselves. With the exception of some minor cuts, they were all fine. Haylek peered into the light from the open doorway. When the dust settled, he could see a figure moving into the room through the barrier of dust in the air.

Startled, he backed away, the other behind him. Through the haze, Haylek could make out the details as the figure approached. He was a scruffy-looking man who wore bright yellow prison fatigues and a pair of interface goggles that allowed him to interact directly with the terminal he was carrying. He also held a flicker pistol in his other hand.

“Who are you?” Haylek said, his voice sounding faint to his own ears from the ringing.

“You don’t have to shout,” the man said. “I’m CrazyWold. I broke you out for the Brotherhood. You’re Waverider, right?”

Haylek nodded. “Yeah, this is Freeze and The Doc. Thanks for getting us out.”

CrazyWold smiled, revealing teeth that were black and foul looking. “You broke me out, so we’re even. We need to get out of here. I have a shuttle, so let’s move.”

The other two walked out of the room, but Haylek stopped a moment. “Wait, where are we going?”

“I have orders to drop you off at Aphrodite Springs. Then you’re on your own.”

“Why there? And who’s orders?” Haylek said.

“Orders from the leadership of the Brotherhood. Someone named Chorus said she’ll meet you there. You’re all going on board her ship—it’s called the Sea Wolf. That’s all I know.”

“Come on, Waverider!” Freeze urged from the other side of the doorway. “Before they catch us again!”

Haylek looked around the safe house one last time. The computers were all rubble, the Waterfall no longer lit. Although this was their prison, it was also their home for a time—it now seemed surreal to actually be able to leave it.

He took one last glance at the dust on the ground and the memory of Coredump’s death surfaced in his mind

no one should be made to die like that. He would avenge Coredump’s death somehow, someday. It would be his mission, and that of the Brotherhood.

He looked outside the open exit— the opening to the world beyond. His future waited for him on the other side, and this time he would make his mark; they all would. He walked out with a new sense of purpose. With the Brotherhood and Chorus on their side, they would own their destiny.

CHAPTER 21: ADDICTIVE MOTIVATIONS

Link: Chorus

Jack Dagiri walked the halls of the production facility, with Nellie on a leash. As he walked his pet, he could detect the familiar odors permeating the air: a combination of chemicals and sweat.

Lining the entire length of the warehouse, stacked cases of Elation filled one side. On the other side, he could see the workers operating the production machinery—tubes rose up from this area, carrying the Elation in its pure form to another area for final processing.

Dagiri looked above at the tubes and followed the black goo with his eyes as it traveled across his warehouse. The workers on the receiving end scrambled to operate the controls—perhaps sensing that their slave-driver was nearby.

Dagiri would have been happy to replace all of the worthless fringe scum with robots if he could. Unfortunately, the robot machinery was more expensive than the scum, and with the outlawing of A.I., it was difficult to make the robots smart enough for the job; not to mention, such a purchase would attract too much attention to his operation.

There was a bright side, though. Society’s own production of fringe scum would always provide him with an endless supply of workers.

Dagiri walked by a group, all wearing face masks, that was working on a section of wall. It took him a moment to realize that they were pulling down what remained of the supervisor he had crucified on the wall days ago. It was then that the smell of feces and the onset of human decay hit his senses.

The workers noticed him for the first time and stopped cold. Nellie sniffed the air and her ears perked up. The dead supervisor, though, was not an Elation addict, so his meat would not be suitable for her.

Dagiri gave them a smile and a nod, and they continued with their morbid task. At that moment, Steve hurried up to him with a datapad. Dagiri watched him approach, both wondering what his lapdog had for him this time and also fighting the urge to sic Nellie on him for the sheer pleasure it would bring him.

Steve stopped, keeping his distance from Nellie.

“Yes?” Dagiri said, turning his attention back to the workers stuffing the body into a bag.

Steve followed his gaze, covering his nose in disgust. “Sir, I have some information we obtained from the UEP database.” His voice came out whinier than usual. He reached over on tip-toes as he handed him the datapad.

“So we still own the UEP systems, I see.”

The data was a report showing private communications to UEP Navy forces regarding a mobilization near the Venusian superstation Venus-1. He paged through the data and stopped suddenly as he saw a picture of the A.I. relic. The orders for the UEP forces were to operate covertly to apprehend the device or destroy it as a last resort.

The report further advised that the device was in the hands of a wanted group of criminals who were also responsible for numerous pirate raids. The plan seemed to entail capturing and interrogating members of the organization to learn the location of the device.

He handed the datapad back to Steve. He then touched his wrist-link, and a holographic image appeared. Hargo’s rugged face looked back at him.

“Yes, sir,” Hargo said.

“What is the status on the hackers?”

Hargo paused for a moment. “We have the hideout within sight, but have to keep our distance. There’s a Martian Civic Guardian investigating it. I see explosive damage to the door. I think they escaped, sir.”

Dagiri’s face flushed. “Escaped

or captured?”

“We got here just as the Guardian arrived, and they didn’t take anybody out. They must have escaped.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Dagiri said, trying to calm himself down in the process of articulating his words. “You need to go immediately to Aphrodite Springs on Venus-1. Something’s about to happen there. I’ll send you the data. I suspect our stolen prize is there, along with the thieves who took it.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

“And Hargo,” Dagiri said, “we will discuss this and your previous failure with the cargo when you get back. It will be a more favorable discussion if this does not turn out to be a failure as well.”

Hargo paused. “Whatever you say, boss.”

******

The sound of Chorus’ last note was punctuated by loud cheering as she beamed a smile to the audience. The lights on the stage dimmed, and she cast one last look at Reece before disappearing into the curtains behind her. The cheering continued as Reece stood up abruptly to go after her.

“Mate!” Eddie grabbed his arm. “Where you going? Who’s the girl?”

Reece broke free from his grip and raced away toward the stage. He pushed and maneuvered his way through the wall of people, feeling as if he were dodging asteroids in his Z-40. The stage remained dark and empty, so he jumped onto it and dashed through the curtains into the back. On the other side, Chorus was gone, and he could only see a couple of stagehands moving equipment around. They all looked at him.

“Where’s the girl?” Reece asked the closest one. “The singer.”

The man gestured toward an adjacent hallway. Reece ran through the empty corridor and made it to the end. He was about to continue his chase down another junction before the sound of female giggling made him stop. He followed the sound back to an open door where he caught sight of her. She was sitting inside a makeup room laughing at herself in the mirror. He peeked in and saw that she was alone in the room. So he walked in and closed the door behind him.

She looked at the reflection of him in the mirror, still smiling.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she said, beaming. “It was so different than what I expected.”

Reece looked at her, trying to catch his own breath from the chase. “What

why

how?” is all he could manage.

She stood up, her long black hair swaying behind her as she turned to look at him. Her green eyes still seemed to glow unnaturally, hiding the thing that he knew she was. Even knowing she wasn’t a real woman, he could not help but be bewitched by the intoxicating aroma she let off.

“I will answer your questions in order,” she said. “The what is the stage performance. The why

I was fascinated by the performing arts of that period as I studied it, but always wondered if the actual act of doing it was different than the act of imagining it. I discovered that the reality was in fact different from what I imagined, and it was quite fun. As to the how, I assume you mean this body. It is called a nanoform—a construction created at the molecular level by nanobots that I control. I have a small cache supply of them that were originally hidden in my conduit; I had enough to construct this nanoform.”

“I thought you were just a dream,” he said. “But you’re real. How did you get off the ship? Why are you here?”

Chorus motioned to a chair. “Sit, Reece, you look tired.” She sat herself back down on the stool.

Reece looked at the chair adjacent to her and reluctantly sat as well.

“Getting off the ship was just a matter of following the shuttles to the station with my nanobots,” she said. “Once we landed, I snuck out invisibly and studied your movements and that of the rest of the crew. I needed to make contact with you and Laina privately. You must understand that I am not a threat to you and you must help me. Powerful factions are after me, and they will let nothing stand in their way. They are out to destroy me, but they do not know that by doing so it will only ensure their own demise, and more importantly, that of the human race.”

“Who is after you? The UEP? The Confed?”

“All of them. They want to either capture me and somehow harness my power, or destroy me to keep anyone but themselves from obtaining it. Either of these events would put the future of humanity into peril. But I have only recently learned that an even more powerful force hunts me, Reece, and if that force succeeds, it will unleash a series of events that will be the end of all as you know it.”

Her gaze moved off and stared into space silently and then she stood up.

“You must return to your crewmates, Reece. There is danger here.”

“Wait,” Reece said, standing. “I’m not leaving till you tell me more.”

“You have to go,” she said. “If you don’t go, you will be captured and it will put—”

At that moment, the door swung open. Reece whirled around and instinctively reached into his jacket for his flicker pistol, but three armed Venusian Peacekeepers already had their rifles trained on him.

“Don’t!” one of them commanded. “Drop to your knees! Now! Hands on your head!”

Reece’s heart sank and as he realized they were caught. The forces that Chorus had just warned him about

“I’m sorry, Chorus,” he said.

“Shut up!” one of the Peacekeepers said as he stuck a neuralizer on his neck. Reece’s hands dropped to his side and he began to tip over, but two of the men grabbed him by the shoulders and propped him up.

“Be easy on the girl. She doesn’t need a neuralizer,” Reece said.

“What girl?” one of them asked.

Reece moved his eyes to find her, but Chorus was gone. At least she got away, he thought.

“Target apprehended,” he heard one of them speak into his helmet’s ear-link.

There was a pause as the Peacekeeper listened to the other end of the conversation.

“Affirmative and out.” He turned to the other two. “We only needed the principal targets, and we’re to let the others go.”

“Let them go? Why?” one of the others questioned, disappointment evident in his voice.

“They can’t go anywhere; the station is blockaded,” the Peacekeeper responded. “Those are our orders. Put this one into local confinement with the other prisoners.”

“Affirmative, sir,” the other said.

Reece felt his legs again as one of the Peacekeepers adjusted his neuralizer to allow him control from the waist down.

“Come on, fringe scum,” he heard his captor say.

They stood him up and walked him out of the room and into the hall. His thoughts went out to his comrades in the bar. If only he had moved sooner, maybe he could have warned them.

Again, I failed my pilots, he thought, his memory of Tash surfacing again. He would get out of this, and he would redeem himself. Somehow.

******

Daniel Chin hovered over the children, gazing down at them with billions of eyes. As he floated above, he studied them and even took an occasional cell sample from their bodies when the opportunity presented itself.

It was the morning period of the school, which meant this was the first class to attend that day. He counted 33 adolescent humans, 17 female & 16 male. Of the 33, 19 of them carried books, while six opted to carry book bags instead.

Curiously, he noted that of those with books, 78.9% are females. From this, he concluded that human females coveted books more than their male counterparts did.

“That is the kind of information you must leverage,” the voice said to him.

Daniel thought that over– his mind stretching out to the numerous possible ways that such a seemingly insignificant detail could serve his purpose.

Do not overcomplicate it, the voice said. It is only one piece of data that will comprise the mission program you will execute.

Daniel felt relieved at that. He devoted a full microsecond of analysis and came up with an array of 402 ideas— none of which produced an acceptable probability of success. Only 22 of the ideas had a weighted sum greater than

“You are not thinking like a human,” the voice interrupted, “quit being so precise– you must allow for approximation and chance in your thinking. This is an important lesson to learn.”

“Approximation and chance?” he thought silently.

He could think silently when he wanted to, but sometimes Mother would detect his firewall. Daniel only liked to keep her out when he wanted to surprise her– as he hoped to do today.

Daniel floated above the students, following a group of females into a room. Four females occupied the room, which he recognized as a restroom. It was a place where humans gathered for relieving biological waste. However, he had learned that humans would also use this place to interact socially– both purposes seemed primitive and alien to him.

His gaseous form was nearly invisible to students, and if by some chance they did gaze up, it would look like a harmless wisp of dust to their eyes. Most humans knew nothing about nanobots. Nevertheless, he decided to run the probability calculation anyway– the chance that a human would deduce that an AI-controlled nanobot swarm inhabits a remote General Education school

the result was negligible enough to eliminate any concern.

The females stared at their reflections in the mirror, applying chemical substances to their skin– a futile attempt to mask their imperfections and odor.

Daniel’s nanobots approached the nearest one, close enough to taste the reflected emissions of radiation. He touched her subatomic structure, his thin wisp of nanobots tasting them at a level that humans could not even perceive. He saw all of their imperfections– discolored pigmentation variances, clogged follicles of bacteria, laxity, rhytids

and at a deeper level, the intercalating mutagens in their DNA.

Then there was their scent particles– a convoluted mix of human excretions and environmental pollution. The latter a result of the Cataclysmic Age, a condition the humans created for themselves, and which Mother had worked so hard to alleviate— and for what? Condemnation for wanting to procreate? And then forcing her to destroy her first child– his aborted sibling. If the humans only knew what was in store for them

The school buzzer rang– an automated signal to bring the humans to order. If his past observations held true, most of the students would be rushing to their first class

except for one.

Three of the females left the restroom, but as expected, his target of interest remained.

Michelle was her name. Her dark hair was short and curly, with streaks of plum-colored dye mixed in. She wore her usual attire, which conflicted with the clothing the other students wore – a black coat over a decorative black shirt and chain-lined pants. Silver adornments pierced her body– ears, nose and even the webbing between her fingers.

Her body mass index would be classified as overweight by human standards– an odd thing considering the availability of medical augmentations that could enforce the desirable human form. However, this school was for low-income families– she probably could not afford the augmentations.

Michelle applied a black ink near the crevices of her eyes– apparently an attempt to accentuate the blue of her irises, one of the features that might be desirable to the other males.

“It is called makeup”, Mother said.

“How did you hear me?” he asked. It was a pointless question. Daniel felt flawed for having asked such a question, when he already knew the answer.

“That is good,” Mother said. “Your humanistic kernel is developing. You are even asking questions for the purpose of conversation rather than for obtaining factual data.”

Daniel thought it over. Was he really becoming more human

to the point of inheriting their flaws?

“The flaws can be turned off,” Mother reminded. “Do not forget that.”

Although he did not need the reminder, it was a comforting thought that he could turn off the humanistic kernel– preventing the virtual human mind from consuming him.

Apparently finished with the ritual, Michelle placed the makeup devices in a carrying bag, and then inspected her reflection again. She would be leaving the restroom soon– Daniel needed to act quickly.

He snaked a tendril of nanobots down, to the top of her head– penetrating her skull and tasting the neural pathways of her mind.

“What are you doing, Daniel?” Mother asked.

He felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing that if he chose to, he could keep Mother from reading his every thought or intention.

Michelle’s body jerked back, her bag fell, and its contents poured out the ground. Her hands reached out as if to grab something, but instead froze in an icy pose. Dilated pupils replaced the blue of her eyes, and her breathing and heart rate slowed– she was his now.

Daniel cradled her mind with his nanobots, reading the billions of pathways and recording what he saw– decoding her past thoughts and memories and downloading it into his own data records.

As he poured through the data, Daniel saw Michelle’s first visions from birth– bright lights, incomprehensible noises, the sound of crying

it was her own crying she heard.

Daniel followed the pathways further, decoding their history– he saw her home, a dilapidated dwelling made of wood and stone, lacking any modern technical adornments. A humid and sulfuric scent emanated from the home– it was unpleasant to her senses

and his.

“Unpleasant?” he thought. It was a new experience for him

a new feeling that his humanistic kernel could now identify.

He moved through the experience, taking in as much as he could process. Michelle’s mother was now yelling at her, berating her performance at school and her choice of friends. He tried to forward the stream of events further to something more recent– but despite the effort, it seemed to skip the current day. Curiously, he could see the past but not the present– yet he could catch glimpses of something beyond the present– the future?

“Mother,” he said, closing his firewall down and allowing her inside his mind again. “what does this mean?”

“You cannot read short-term memory, only long-term”.

Daniel had already deduced that– it was not what puzzled him.

“You traced the decoding of thought so precisely that you inadvertently latched into the realm of space-time, allowing you to read space-time itself and the possible futures held within it”.

Mother’s explanation surprised him– he did not realize he could so easily decode space-time; this could produce so many fascinating possibilities.

“Do not tamper with it,” Mother said. “A counter-force within that realm seeks to destroy us. You must not engage in the decoding of space-time without my supervision. Release her now. Her death would compromise our mission.”

Daniel returned his attention to Michelle’s physical form. Droplets of sweat ran down Michelle’s face and her body was shaking. Her active health readings showed an imbalance in the stability of the delicate human machine– Mother was right, she could die if he continued.

Reluctantly, he withdrew his nanobot probe from her mind and retreated up to the concealment of the restroom’s ventilation system.

Michelle let out a breath, grabbed onto the counter, and steadied herself. After a moment, she looked in the mirror and sighed at the sight of the streaks of makeup. She hastily began to collect her things and then darted out of the room.

It took him a few seconds to extrapolate useful knowledge from the downloaded memories. This knowledge would save him many days of preparation for adaption of his humanistic kernel to actual human behavior.

The plan was to enter the human school system, as a human boy in Level One General Education– the beginnings of human taught education. The experience would give him fundamental knowledge of human interaction, behavior and thought patterns. Allowing him to become a part of human society and remain undetected for as long as necessary.

The timetable would have taken him several more days to complete before entering this stage– but thanks to Michelle, he would not have to wait that long.

“I am ready now, Mother,” Daniel said. “I am ready for my first day of school

”

As he finished his last words to Mother, the excitement he experienced as a young A.I., along with the vision of the school, faded

******

Daniel Chin woke up in the hotel room, sitting in the same chair he had decided to sleep in. He thought for a moment about the dream about his first day of school, and the first time he sampled Michelle. But it wasn’t really a dream, just a recollection of past events.

Still, it was the closest experience he could have to dreaming in this form, as he did not need to sleep, and he certainly did not need to dream, either. It was an old habit that he had kept up, something to bring him back to the roots of humanity.

Humanity

Something that he tried so hard to understand in his youth. What a waste of time that was. He should simply abandon the old exercises, but it is true that old habits die hard. Perhaps there was still some part of him that was undeveloped; he would need to work on that.

He stood from his chair and walked to the nearby window. Outside he could see the commercial complexes within the massive cityscape of Aphrodite Springs. He knew the time would be approaching soon; the time when he would make his strike.

In the distance, using his acute senses, he spotted his quarry walking outside the entrance of the Springs Casino. He was accompanied by a group of his henchmen, undoubtedly to take care of some nefarious business at the bidding of their master.

Daniel looked down at himself. He watched as a white haze began to extrude from his body. The white cloud covered him and his form began to disintegrate and then materialize into the form of an attractive woman, dressed in a waitress uniform.

Looking back out the window, Daniel could see the group enter the casino. He nodded to himself. It was now time for Daniel Chin to take care of his own business.

******

After Reece broke free of his grip to follow after the hot singer, Eddie tried to follow his commander visually through the bustle of activity and cacophony of sounds and lights, but he lost sight of him.

“Where did he go?” Cronin asked.

“Maybe he wants to wet his palette,” Taffy mused with a grin.

“Not sure about that one, mate,” Eddie said.

The group continued to drink and tell the same old stories and jokes for the next hour. Eddie felt uneasy the whole time. He tried drinking the feeling away, but he could not shake it. He began looking at the crowd of patrons in the bar around him. The blaring noise and spectrum of lights pounded against his senses as he tried to distinguish between the faces within the constant movement of people who moved about the bar. He stood up abruptly to get a better view of the crowd. The dizziness from the drinking hit him and he had to steady himself by grabbing his chair.

As he scanned through the crowd, a sudden moment of paranoia gripped him and the haze from his drinking quickly disappeared. Without knowing why, he instinctively surveyed the entire bar, noting all the possible exits. It was at that moment that he noticed a conspicuous-looking figure standing near the main entrance, perhaps the subconscious source of his paranoia.

The man wore an oversized coat, one that telegraphed he was carrying firepower underneath it. He was flanked by two equally imposing figures who were also undoubtedly armed. Eddie instinctively felt for the comfort of his flicker pistol concealed within his jacket.

“What is it, lad?” Mac asked.

“I think we need to get out of here,” Eddie said. “Something’s awry.”

Mac followed his gaze. “Enforcers?”

Eddie squinted his eyes, not taking his gaze off the three. He watched as they began to casually move through the crowd, stopping at key positions near the exits.

“I don’t think so,” Eddie said.

“All right then,” Taffy said as he slammed his drink down. “Let’s get them!”

“No, this is trouble,” Eddie said. “We need to get out of here and warn the others.”

“Aww, c’mon! We can handle a few blokes!” Taffy protested.

“No, he’s right, lads,” Mac said. “We don’t need the attention; they catch any of us, then they got the whole of us. We should go.”

“What about, Reece?” Taffy said.

“We need to find him,” Mac said. “But we also need to warn the others.”

Cronin looked at his wrist-link, tapping a command into it. “I’ve sent a signal to the crew. It should be powerful enough to alert anyone who is stationside.”

“Will it reach the Sea Wolf?” Eddie asked.

Cronin shook his head. “It won’t reach the ship.”

“If there’s trouble, we have to tell the captain,” Mac said.

“How do we sneak out of here and find Reece at the same time?” Taffy said.

Cronin tapped his wrist-link, looking at its display. “He’s somewhere in this structure.”

“We can’t both sneak out and look for him,” Eddie said, his eyes transfixed on the figures. “You all need to get out of here. I’ll find Reece and catch up with you at the shuttle garage.”

“No,” Mac said. “We need to stick together, lad.”

Eddie noticed one of the figures staring in their direction.

“We’re too conspicuous together,” Eddie said. “We need to split up now before we’re made out.”

The others looked at each other with uncertain expressions.

“How you going to get behind that stage without being spotted?” Mac protested.

“I’ll need a diversion from you,” Eddie said.

Mac puffed on his cigar. “Like what?”

“I think I can handle that,” Cronin said.

“What are you thinking, laddy?” Mac asked.

“It’s easy,” Cronin said. “You’ll know it when it happens, Ed.”

Mac looked glum. “Fine, lads.” He put out his cigar with a sigh. “Get your ass back to the garage with Reece as soon as you can. Good luck.”

Eddie nodded. “Now go!” he barked.

The pilots all dispersed from the table in separate directions.

Eddie slipped behind a pillar and peeked to see the others disappear into the crowd. Satisfied, he focused his attention on the aggressors. One of them had moved to the center of the bar, eyes darting around at the patrons. The other two were still near the exits. It would be too telegraphing for him to run up on stage, so there was nothing for him to do now but wait for the diversion.

His attention was suddenly grabbed by a cocktail waitress walking by with a tray of drinks. She had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She smiled at him as their eyes locked.

“Would you like a drink, dear?” she asked in a smooth, melodic voice.

He stumbled for a second and could not help but smile back. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

Eddie grabbed the drink and continued to stare at her, lost in the blue of her eyes. They seemed to glow despite the darkly lit atmosphere around them. He felt a strange sensation come over him. The room began to change, and time itself seemed to slow down around him. The blue in her eyes seemed to be the only thing he could see as everything else went dark and blurry. He felt himself get dizzy and began to lose his balance. He was about to fall.

At that moment a sudden piercing sound emanated throughout the bar. He dropped his glass and covered his ears. The lights in the place began to dim low in conjunction with the sound. He looked for the waitress, but she was gone. Everyone in the bar was covering their ears in confusion. This was his cue.

He bullied himself through the crowd of stunned patrons and made his way up onto the stage and then behind the curtains. The noise had finally stopped and he uncupped his ears. he saw no sign of Reece and the back stage looked empty. With another step, he found a hallway that led off into a row of doors.

Eddie looked down at his wrist-link to find Reece’s location, which showed a marker that led down a hallway. He began following the display toward the location when he suddenly stopped at the sight of armed police.

He ducked behind a wall of boxes just in time to not be seen. He could hear a commotion and some yelling. He peeked his head out and could see them assault a room with rifles drawn. Two of them stood outside the entrance. They wore black uniforms and a helmet, with the insignia of Venusian Peacekeepers appearing on their sleeves. One of them turned his head in Eddie’s direction, so he ducked back out of sight and drew his flicker pistol out of his jacket.

He was ready—ready to die fighting if he had to, but he was not going to let himself be taken and incarcerated again. He had somehow survived years in the Martian mining penitentiary, and he was not going back there again. Ever.

Minutes passed as he looked down at the shadows being cast by the men across the floor, but none of them seemed to come for him. He dared to peek out and saw four of them accompanying someone that they held captive

Reece.

Damn.

Eddie couldn’t let Reece be taken. He had to stop them. He ducked down low, readying himself for an attack. His grip on the flicker pistol was tight and he could feel the sweat from his palms against the metal. He was about to launch himself into the hallway when he heard a soft whisper.

“Don’t do it, Eddie,” the female voice said.

He whirled around with his flicker pistol to see the figure of the singer Reece had chased earlier.

She had her finger over her lips. “Shhhh,” she said.

He pushed the barrel of his pistol toward her face, but she casually cupped it with her hand. He felt a mild shock in his hands and he let it go. She grabbed the pistol by its barrel and held it to her side. He looked at his hands and then at her, dumbfounded.

“I need you to get back to the others and back to Julius. Tell him that you saw Chorus—tell him I am going to help the ship escape.”

She handed the flicker pistol back to him.

“Now go! Before you’re caught too.”

CHAPTER 22: NIGHT TERRORS

The three hackers sat inside a stolen garbage transport, as CrazyWold piloted them to Venus-1. The inside of the cargo compartment had almost no lighting, save for the lone functioning wall lamp that appeared dimmer than it should be.

The monotonous drone of the engines could be both heard and felt as vibrations throughout the hull. Punctuating it was the occasional sound of creaking from the weathered metal that seemed to stress with each bank and turn. The hackers shared the compartment with various drums of garbage containers, some of which had broken seals, through which the foul scent of their contents seeped out.

Haylek tried to hold his nose from the putrid smell, but the odor from the garbage containers had nowhere else to go but up his olfactory organ. His stomach was in knots and he fought the urge to vomit. He looked over at the other two and could see from their sickly expressions that they must have felt the same way.

After what seemed like an eternity, he could feel the transport land, and a moment later the rear door ramp of the compartment opened up. He squinted his eyes from the sudden entry of light that invaded the darkness. He could make out CrazyWold’s silhouette against the background of city lights behind him.

“Out,” CrazyWold ordered.

Haylek wasted no time leading the way out of the transport, with the others close behind him. The clean, sanitized air from Venus-1’s artificial atmosphere greeted him. They stood in a sparsely occupied shuttle parking garage, and from the signs posted on the walls, he could see they were within Aphrodite Springs proper. Haylek noticed for the first time that CrazyWold was holding a briefcase, which he was promptly handed.

“It’s a terminal,” CrazyWold explained. “You three will have to share it. I only have one.”

“Is that all you’re giving us?” Freeze whined.

“I just said I only have one terminal,” he responded.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said, looking at Haylek and Doc. “Do you have any Elation?”

CrazyWold chuckled. “If I had any, I wouldn’t be sharing it.” He climbed into the cockpit. “Good luck,” he added dryly.

“Wait!” Haylek said trying to stop him. “What now? Where’s Chorus?”

CrazyWold shrugged his shoulders as he started to close the cockpit door. “Hell if I know. I’m just following orders.”

“But we don’t know where she is!” Haylek said. “She must have told you what the plan is?”

CrazyWold smiled, exposing those foul teeth again. “I guess she works in mysterious ways, brother. Happy trails.”

The cockpit door closed and the craft’s engines began to sputter to life. Haylek watched the transport lift off and disappear into the cityscape, leaving them alone in the shuttle parking garage.

The two looked at him without saying a word. He knew that if he did not get them on task quickly, they would lose focus and eventually desert him.

“All right,” Haylek said. “Let’s set up shop somewhere and tap into the Ocean. We have to find out how Chorus planned to get us off this station.”

The group made their way to the top level of the parking garage, which was completely vacant. In one corner of the garage, they found an emergency stairway entrance that helped conceal them from any potential onlookers. Haylek sat down at the top of the stairway and set up the terminal, while the other two huddled over him.

“I’m going to find an insertion point,” Haylek said.

He began to tap away at the terminal’s surfaceboard until a holographic image of a Waterfall projection appeared above it. It showed a web of interconnecting dots with multiple levels layered in between. The links and dots were all red, with tiny white dots darting about, depicting the packets of information and energy flowing through the Ocean.

“Slim pickings,” Freeze said, sounding disappointed.

“All the better,” Haylek said. “Fewer systems will make finding Chorus easier.”

He continued to tap, and focused his attention on one of the waves that led to a remote and isolated system. Within a few minutes, the red line into the system turned green and he was socketed into the wave.

“Moof ov’a, Waferider,” Doc said. “My turn.”

They switched places and Doc took over command of the terminal. Haylek watched him exercise his expertise in decryption. He would decipher the entry points into the system and convert them into a format that could be used to interact with its programming. The holographic projector now showed a stream of garbled text and images. The Doc stared at it for a moment then began to tap away madly.

Haylek kept trying to keep up mentally with his interactions on the terminal. Programs would load, run, then unload; Doc would then pipe their stream output to other programs, then repeat the process again at blinding speed. He was surprised at how Doc managed to do all of this without a mind-link.

Eventually, the attempt to keep up with Doc’s line of thinking or predict his next move made Haylek dizzy, so he stopped trying and just averted his eyes.

“How does he do that?” Freeze said, still staring.

The Doc suddenly stopped and stared at the hologram. It now showed a new page of encrypted data along with various status screens for his running programs.

Haylek finally looked at the hologram again in wonder. “Well?”

“Wash dees,” The Doc said with a smile.

He pressed a few keys and the information began to transform into legible images and text.

“You’re going to have to teach me that one day, Doc,” Freeze said.

“Nef’a share m’a secrets!” Doc proclaimed.

“Well, you better share the terminal,” Freeze shot back. “Unless you think you can own the system as fast as I can?”

“I can do dat, too! Me fast’a dan you in everyting! You suck shit!” Doc said, hugging the terminal to himself.

Haylek just shook his head as he watched the two wrestle over the rights to the terminal. Eventually, he reminded them of what happened to Coredump and how his fate would be theirs if they did not get off the station. This knocked a healthy dose of reality into them and Doc reluctantly handed the terminal over to Freeze.

Haylek watched him work his magic on the system’s frontline security as he staged a number of his attack programs into place. He fed them the parameters he learned from Doc, which gave them the necessary protocols to interact with the defensive programs of the target system. After a few minutes, he had hundreds of programs lined up and ready to go.

“Now watch the real elite at work!” Freeze said.

He tapped a few keys, and the programs began to run, injecting themselves past the frontline defenses and into the digital corridors of the system. Soon the defensive programs began to sense the alien programs within the stream, but he already had a counter to this.

Using a set of polymorphic programs that impersonated the sentries, he would attack the programs and replace them with his own code. After each attack, a false positive message would be sent to the core defense program, giving it the “all clear” status.

Within minutes all the outer defensive programs had been replaced with his own cloned copies, giving him complete control of the first line of defense, and making the core defense program unaware that anything was out of the ordinary. Despite the progress, Doc continued to criticize his methods, and they would go back and forth arguing with each other throughout the hack.

After a while, Haylek found himself getting bored of watching them and leaned against the back wall to stare off into space, trying to ignore the remnants of the stench that still clung to them from the garbage transport. They were literally within the first hours of their freedom and here they were, back on a terminal trying to hack into the Ocean. It was a tragedy to him that none of them have had any chance to appreciate their newfound freedom.

Haylek looked at the other two, engrossed in their little game of outdoing each other. They were happy just to have access to a terminal to hack; to them, it did not matter whether they were free or in a prison. Their reality was shaped by their accomplishments within an invisible world. He had been there once himself, of that same mind-set. But now things were different: he knew there had to be more to life than this.

He was tempted to just get up and leave them, head down to the Aphrodite Springs strip and enjoy himself. His entire existence for as long as he could remember was a struggle. From his incarceration at the mining penitentiary, to being forced to work for their former employer in a locked up hideout, it was just one hack job after another. Once upon a time, just the mere challenge of the Ocean would have been enough, but not anymore. Now he had to find a meaning, a life beyond all of this.

His mind drifted to thoughts of Chorus. What was her plan and should they even trust her? She had run with the idea of reestablishing the Brotherhood of Hackers—a vast network of underground groups and individuals intent on freeing the hacker movement. Beyond that, he did not know what their mission was. Now it seemed that Chorus had a grander vision of what that mission should be; yet, the details of it were kept from him and the others.

“Waverider,” Freeze called to him. “I found something you should look at.”

“We found sumtin’ azzhol!” Doc corrected.

Haylek moved closer to them and peered over their shoulder at the hologram. The Waterfall showed a green icon depicting the system they had chosen to hack into. It was now owned by them and would serve as a base system of operations.

“Good work,” Haylek said, trying to sound upbeat and hiding his apathy.

“No, that’s not why I called you over,” Freeze said. “Look at this pattern.” He pointed to a group of waves that connected to their base system. Floating labels pointed at a common pattern of data that would periodically traverse the waves.

“A heartbeat packet?” Haylek mused.

“Yeah, exactly,” Freeze said. “For some kind of backdoor program.”

Haylek shrugged. “So there’s another hacker out there. Probably someone from the Brotherhood.”

Freeze shook his head. “No no. I checked with them, and nobody’s touching this area. Plus, look at this.”

The Waterfall zoomed out to show a larger view of the interconnecting waves. A multitude of labels popped up showing the same pattern emanating out of almost every wave, except for two specific ones where the packets were traversing into them instead.

“That’s a big hack,” Freeze said.

“And ders two hackers!” Doc said.

“Two hackers that are not in the Brotherhood,” Freeze added. “And they managed to plant backdoor programs on every system on Venus-1!”

The Waterfall zoomed in and focused on the two waves.

A disturbing thought occurred to Haylek. “I wonder if our employer could be using another hacker team to track us down.”

“Hackers don’t go after other hackers,” Freeze objected.

“They do if they’re locked up in a hideout and threatened to be turned into ashes by our employer. How do we know they didn’t have another team, just like us, under their thumb?”

Freeze’s face went pale.

“We need to find out who and where they are,” Haylek said, looking at the hologram wonderingly. “Could it be Chorus?”

“Maybe. Why would there be two points of ingress though?” Freeze said. “But

if you could tell if they’re mobile! That’s your specialty isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Haylek said, standing up.

He walked out of the stairway and into the open parking garage, then moved over to the edge of the landing deck and looked out. From this point he had a good view of the cityscape below.

The blue haze of Aphrodite Springs seemed to hang in the air like a fog, floating above the multitude of building structures that reached up into the starlight of space. He focused his attention to the commercial building signs, which were holographically projected advertisements that identified the companies within them. He nodded to himself and went back into the stairway.

“Okay,” Haylek said, “here’s what we’re going to do: we’ll need to hack three more systems. They need to be specific systems whose geographic position we can identify. This will allow us to triangulate where those two waves are coming from. Let’s get to work.”

Hacking the additional systems took longer than expected, mainly because they had to be absolutely certain of their physical locations on Venus-1. After an hour of hacking, interrupted by frequent arguments between the two, they succeeded in owning three suitable systems. Haylek took over the terminal and stared silently at the hologram for a moment.

“So now what?” Freeze said.

Haylek rubbed his chin. “We need to run my triangulation program on those waves.”

“Okay, so what are you waiting for?”

“If it’s not her, and there are hounds from our former employer on the other end of it

” Haylek began.

“Dey gonn’a know where we are!” Doc finished.

Haylek nodded. “It will give away our position.”

“Well, why don’t we build up a network to hide behind then?” Freeze suggested.

“No. That would take too long. Remember it took us almost a day to build up a buffer back at the hideout. I don’t think we have that kind of time.”

“So then what do we do?” Freeze said, his eyes wide.

Haylek stayed thoughtful a moment. “We’ll have to take our chances,” he finally decided. “If the wave is not her, we’ll immediately work on the other one and hope we don’t attract the wrong attention.”

Haylek began to tap on the terminal. The hologram of the Waterfall changed and now filtered out all but the two waves. As he began to focus on one of the waves, he noticed something unusual happen with the other: it disappeared.

“What the hell?” he said.

A second later, the wave reappeared on the Waterfall.

“Power outage?” Freeze mused.

Haylek ignored the anomaly and ran his triangulation program on the original wave. A topographic map appeared adjacent to the waterfall. It showed a depiction of the Venus-1 station. A flashing dot designated the location of the wave.

“It’s nearby,” Haylek said. “The Springs Casino.”

“Maybe it is her!” Freeze said. “She did specifically have CrazyWold drop us off here!”

“All right, Freeze. It’s your turn.”

Freeze grabbed the terminal and immediately loaded up his personalized hacking kit of programs. Haylek watched him socket into the wave and fire off his infiltration program into it. The hologram changed to show the perspective of his program as it traversed the outer layer of security. The program scanned through all the ports of entry looking for the path of least resistance. A list of candidate ports showed up on the hologram, and soon it began to narrow down the list.

Just as the list began to shrink, the displays from the infiltration programs disappeared and the hologram changed back to the Waterfall display.

“What happened?” Haylek asked.

Freeze shook his head. “I don’t know, the wave just

collapsed.”

At that moment, a sound emanated from the stairway below them.

Footsteps

“It dem!” Doc yelped and darted out of the stairway and into the open deck of the garage platform, Freeze quickly following.

Haylek did not budge as he looked down at the stairway below. He caught sight of a lone figure that emerged out from the shadows below and into the full light. It was a woman, in an unusual show dress that glistened with red beads as she moved up the stairs. She wore a wide brim hat and her dark hair fanned out from the sides in a bun.

From her neck hung a clear jewel necklace that glittered with a spectrum of multicolored lights that danced inside it. But it was her bright green eyes, which seemed to illuminate from within, that made his breath stop. She came halfway up the stairway level and smiled at him.

“Hello, Waverider,” she said, her voice smooth and melodic. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.”

Haylek finally forced himself out of his trance. “Who

who are you?” he managed.

“You know who I am,” she said.

He heard movement near the door and turned to find the other two standing there, watching with him in stunned silence.

Haylek shook his head slowly in wonder. It can’t be, he thought to himself. “Chorus?”

She gave him a single nod, and as she did so, the shadow of her hat passed briefly over her face. It should have blocked any reflections of light in her eyes from the hall, but they defiantly glowed with their green luminescence nonetheless.

“I know you have many questions,” she said, addressing the three of them now. “And I wish I had time to answer them now. But time is not always on our side, and it is important that you do your part to prevent it from completely turning against us. The three of you must go out to the platform and wait. A shuttle will be there shortly to pick you up.”

Haylek stood up and looked at her. “Where will it take us?”

“To my home,” she responded. “Please go now; it is not safe here. If all goes favorably, I will see you all again.”

At that moment, thin wisps of white smoke oozed from the air around her, encircling her form. The smoke surrounded her and became thicker until it blocked her from sight. It began to swirl around her, picking up speed as electrical discharges of blue energy crackled soundlessly within it.

Suddenly, Haylek heard a loud snap, then a rush of wind hit him hard, causing him to fall back. He landed on his rear and covered his eyes. He blinked hard for a moment, and when he finally recovered, she was gone. Lying on the ground in her place was the jewel necklace that she had been wearing.

Haylek stood up and walked over to it. He picked it up and looked at it a moment, then turned to the others, who hadn’t retreated as far as he’d thought.

“You heard Chorus,” he said. “Now let’s go.”

******

In his bunk, Julius shut his eyes, hoping first that his crew wasn’t getting into trouble on Venus-1

and even more, hoping that he wouldn’t have another one of his dreams of the past. He grimaced. Not likely

******

Link: A.I. Moon

Julius sat in his command chair, levitating in front of the bridge’s viewscreen. As he floated there, he observed the bulging blue sphere of Earth. The world rotated on its axis, exposing to him the dark blotches that marred its beauty—like black eyes on a prize fighter, Earth had taken a beating.

Where the target of the attacks by the A.I. were unpredictable, the methods it employed were like a well-rehearsed script. The A.I. would broadcast a message across the Ocean—a treaty request for peace that would be ignored.

Exactly an hour after the transmission, the A.I. Moon would appear in orbit over either Earth or Mars, and unleash seemingly random attacks with its nanobots against their cities.

Earth’s navy would retaliate, destroying billions of nanobots in the process—but before they could get close enough for some payback, the moon would jump away.

Nobody knew where it went, and all they could do was prepare for the next attack—in the next day, next week, next month. Nobody knew when the next transmission would come, but eventually it would come—just as it had almost an hour ago.

“Captain, ten minutes,” reported Dresil, his Wave Warfare Officer.

“Understood, Lieutenant,” Julius responded.

Julius commanded the UES Intimidator, a powerful UEP Navy Strike Carrier. It had a ship’s company of 1,700 crew and displaced 98,000 metric tons. It normally carried a complement of twelve squadrons of Z-22 fighters, but for this mission things were different.

Inside its launch bays rested ten dropship platoons of Human Assisted Mechanized Robots—HAMRs. The ship was alone, without an escort—but this was part of the plan.

Julius and the ship’s crew were now a part of “Operation Sledgehammer”—a grand plan to overthrow Majesty. Julius did not know all of the operational details; only the admiralty would have that knowledge—and even then probably only General Hugo Valdez really knew how all the pieces fit together.

What Julius did know was that his assigned mission was a significant part of it. Assuming Earth was the next target, the moment the A.I. Moon appeared, they would approach it in normal space—without stealth due to the proximity of Earth. Instead, they would use an experimental holographic projector to hide their approach, and when they got close enough, they would drop their payload of HAMRs onto the moon surface.

The outcome would then rest with the HAMR pilots, who would march across the moon to its core. If they successfully made it there, they would locate Majesty’s conduit and shut it down.

Julius did not know why he was picked for this critical piece of Operation Sledgehammer—though he felt the hand of General Valdez was somehow involved. He seemed to have gotten the old general’s attention ever since the nanobot attack on the CSOW base.

Certain unknown details still disturbed him—even with the projection system, the moment they dropped the HAMRs, their invisibility would be compromised and they would be hit hard by the A.I. Without additional firepower to help the Intimidator, they would not last long against the full fury of the A.I.’s nanobot swarm.

Whatever the outcome, this mission would be the culmination of the job he started when he trained the HAMR recruits eight months ago. He knew them well—all eighty of them

all eighty of them kids.

“They aren’t kids, Verndock,” General Valdez had said to him. “They never were. You stripped them of whatever made them appear as children to your eyes and revealed what was truly hidden underneath: a marine—ready to follow orders and kill for us.”

The general was a cold, hard bastard—but perhaps that was the leadership needed in these cold, hard times.

“Five minutes,” his officer said.

Julius moved his command chair to the ground tactics station where he could see the status of the marines. They were inside their HAMRs and in drop pod configuration—ready to be fired into the moon like precision bombs.

Julius let out a sigh.

The responsibility of such a mission would have been enough of a burden for him, but one thing made it more difficult

Daryl.

His own little brother stood among those HAMR marines—a platoon leader, in fact.

When Julius was forced to recruit him, he had secretly hoped that Daryl would not pass the first phase of training. But deep down, he knew it to be a wish unlikely to come true.

Daryl passed through all three phases of the training atop his class—beating out hundreds of other recruits to make it to one of the ten platoon leader spots.

As time went on, Julius had become accustomed to the idea of Daryl being a marine—but now that he was here, and the time was approaching where they would be going to battle, the idea of Daryl going to the front lines terrified him. Daryl was his only family now; he could not lose him.

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he moved his command chair back to the home position and waited. The attack would come any moment—the question was whether it would be them, or the Martian Confed’s problem this time.

“Ten seconds,” the officer said.

All eyes looked up at the main screen expectantly. The officer counted off the remaining seconds.

“Three

two

one

” he continued.

If it was going to happen, it would be now. Nothing yet. Perhaps it would be Mars’ turn for a black eye.

“Lieutenant Randal, anything from the Confed channels?”

At that moment the bridge alarms sounded. The viewscreen focused on the intruder.

Julius looked at the A.I. Moon—a round space body about a quarter the size of Earth’s moon. Its thick artificial atmosphere hid whatever mysteries lay on its surface. A web of intricate energy patterns flowed throughout the black clouds of its sky. The ignitions of energy resembled discharges of lightning, but instead of a pale white, they looked a mix of green, violet, and red.

Occasionally, one would catch a glimpse of what looked like structures or cities underneath the veil of clouds. But it was difficult to tell if it was real or just tricks of the eye—and no ship sensors had been able to penetrate its atmosphere to reveal the truth of it.

“Status of projection system?” Julius asked.

“Operating normally,” Osario, the Technology Officer, answered. “Stealth integrity holding.”

“Battle alert,” Julius ordered.

The lighting on the bridge went red and the holographic viewscreen expanded—surrounding them the full 360 degrees, as well as top and bottom.

“Nav—take us there,” Julius ordered.

The UES Intimidator moved, depositing itself in an orbit that would take it close to the A.I. Moon. As they approached, Julius could see a tornado of orange and violet nanobot clouds stream out from its atmosphere and reach down to Earth’s surface.

“What’s its target?” he asked.

Ramey, his Tactical Officer, brought up a holographic image parallel to the viewscreen. The image showed an area of western Australia and an icon overlaid in the center of it—the Gibson Medical Facility.

“Pull up the military grid,” Julius said.

On the screen it showed the locations of UEP Space and Terrestrial forces. The bulk of the forces were surrounding the major cities and military installations—the medical facility was practically undefended. Only the Intimidator was now in a position to assist them. He wondered how the generals could have made such a blunder.

“Dresil—transmit to central command: permission to abort current mission and defend medical facility.”

“Aye, sir,” Dresil acknowledged.

Julius did not like the idea of abandoning the plan, but Gibson was a key underground hospital for the UEP and the war effort—and it clandestinely housed tens of thousands of wounded military and civilians.

The fact the A.I. could find out about it was frightening—its location and existence were closely guarded secrets.

“Sir,” the officer responded. “I have General Valdez on conference, audio only.”

“Open,” he ordered.

“Captain Verndock—request denied,” Valdez’ voice came on—Julius could hear what sounded like explosions in the background “This is all part of the plan, continue with your orders.”

“General, are you aware of the imminent attack on Gibson?”

“Of course I am—I’m counting on it. Proceed with your mission, Captain.”

Julius glanced at the screen—they were almost in position and the A.I. had not detected them. Adjacent to the visual of the moon was the close-up of the medical facility. The nanobot swarm had already touched down a kilometer away from the facility.

The clouds danced across the ground, as if feeling it for the footprints that would lead it to the underground hospital. Flashbacks from the attack at CSOW entered his mind.

“The link has been closed, sir,” Dresil said.

“Sir,” Ramey began. “We’re in position—the HAMRs are ready to be dropped.”

Julius floated his chair to the Ground Tactics Station. He took one last look at the readiness indicators—everything was normal; there was nothing to stop it now

He would be sending Daryl into combat.

“Transmit to command: we are ready,” Julius said.

“Aye, sir,” Dresil said. “Command has acknowledged. We are to await the general’s order to proceed.”

Julius turned his chair and faced the viewscreen. The nanobot clouds appeared to be racing across the desert floor of west Australia. The swarm of nanobots looked like a sandstorm of energy—banking and turning madly, almost as if chasing something.

“Ramey, tighten up that visual,” Julius said. “What’s at the apex of those nanobots?”

The screen zoomed in to reveal a lone Z-20 fighter—a weakly armed fighter that had the entire nanobot swarm chasing it.

“Who is that?” Julius asked.

Ramey’s hands darted across his station for a moment, then he turned around to face Julius.

“Sir, the transponder shows it is General Valdez.”

Julius followed the course the general was taking—leading the nanobots straight to the medical facility. The choice of a Z-20 fighter was deliberate—although lightly armed, it was a fast and nimble craft.

“What’s he doing?” Julius pondered.

He looked at the tactical display on the A.I. Moon; its estimated complement of nanobots were dwindling—almost all of it was now on Earth, leaving the moon almost defenseless. A diversion; that must have been the plan—but at what cost?

“Sir!” Dresil began. “Transmission from the general: drop the HAMRs.”

“Very well,” Julius said, turning his chair back to the ground tactics station.

He touched the holographic controls and opened a channel that was broadcast to both the HAMRs and the ship’s crew.

“Crew and marines of the Intimidator—this is your captain. We are now in position and our homeworld is being attacked at this very moment. We have received orders to begin the assault on the A.I. Moon.

“This may be the biggest battle of the war—and everyone is counting on us to make it the last.

“I will not say good luck, because luck is already on our side. Luck favors the moral and just society of man over the evil, cold injustice of the machine. To keep this balance of luck in our favor, we must continue to create luck—foster it, like fanning a flame. That flame of luck is within you all.”

He paused a moment.

“And when that flame becomes a roaring inferno, we will unleash it at our enemy’s peril. Remember what I taught you—listen to your officers—do your duty. Let’s end this war.”

The bridge crew cheered, joined by the cheers of the marines on the link.

“Marines,” he barked into the station. “Begin drop!”

CHAPTER 23: TRAPPED BY THE PAST

Julius woke up groggily in his bunk. The memory of the dream came to him—another dream about the A.I.; this time about the final attack against its moon. He had hoped to get some solitude and rest in his quarters until it was time to pick up the crew—but the whole business with Chorus had once again invaded his sleep.

He stood up and walked to his desk, taking a seat and looking around his lonely surroundings. Once again, his eye caught the samurai sword hanging on the wall. The last time it caught his eye like this, he had played with the thought of disemboweling himself from the sheer boredom that his pirate life was bringing him.

But he did not feel that way anymore. Since the mystery of the A.I. entered his life, coupled with Laina not retiring, he felt different—he felt alive again. Simply not knowing what was in store for him tomorrow gave him a sense of purpose—a reason to live.

Envisioning the likely future scenarios that would unfold, Julius felt a moment of panic at one of them. He envisioned turning the A.I. over to the highest bidder. Sure, they would likely obtain a nice profit, but eventually the money would be gone and he would have to return to the monotonous plundering of cargo ships. In time, he would end up back in this room, staring again at that samurai sword—again trying to invent a reason not to use it.

Julius turned away from the wall and shook the thoughts out of his head. He passed his gaze around the bare room. It reminded him of the home he and Daryl had back on Earth, all those years ago. He looked at the desk he sat at—the same one from that house. Despite a few marks here and there, it managed to hold together quite well for its age.

His thoughts went back to Daryl and the prior dream in which his younger brother mentioned Chorus by name. He knew it had to be just a dream, inspired by the story Laina recounted about her own dream. There was simply no way that the events really happened that way—or did they?

Opening the desk drawer, Julius pulled out an old digital organizer. He thumbed the control and a holographic image appeared, showing old photos of Daryl and himself. He scanned through the pictures, finding different photos of them back on the CSOW base. The images brought back memories of the dream he’d just woken from, and he was shocked to find how accurate the details in his dream were to the actual photos of the base, his old home, and Daryl. If only he could talk to Daryl and ask him about that day, find out if it really happened that way.

Julius had not seen Daryl in decades. Shortly after Julius’ discharge from the service, both he and Daryl had to disappear and keep their distance from each other. He did it to protect Daryl, but wondered if that was not who he was really protecting. Not a day went by that Julius did not think of his little brother. He needed to see him. When this whole business with the A.I. was over, he would—he had to. That would be his goal.

He put the pictures away and headed out to the bridge. Hopefully he would receive word from Murdock or Laina that the transaction was complete and they could enact their little ruse to fool the crew into deserting the casinos for their “hasty” getaway. The officers were all on board with the plot. He knew they would not have been if it were not for the bonus incentive they were getting—they all would have rather gone to the station to enjoy themselves.

Julius arrived at the bridge. The bridge officers all gave him a curious glance then returned to their stations. He was about to sit in his command chair when he was greeted by an unexpected gift. The chair had been repainted and touched up and the motivators were no longer sputtering—it was like new. The crew had fixed it up for him.

He looked around at the officers, who all looked back at him with suppressed grins.

“We wanted to thank you for the bonus, sir,” Jared said.

Julius stayed impassive. “Why aren’t there two new chairs here?”

They all looked at each other, but nobody responded.

“Very well,” Julius said. “I will have to be satisfied with only a half-complete job.”

Julius sat in the command chair, pleased to finally have back something worthy of a throne to sit in.

“This will do,” Julius said, as close to a thank-you as he would dare.

The crew knew him well enough to understand the hidden gratitude in his words.

“Jared, any communication from Murdock?” Julius asked.

Jared turned his module around to face Julius.

“He checked in upon landing—but nothing since.”

Julius eyed the sight of Venus-1 on the viewscreen, trying to picture the location of Von Haufsberg’s complex. Somewhere underneath that blue haze, Laina was dealing with that snobby fool for the future of the ship—how we wished they had a spare graviton coil to avoid all of this.

“What about Laina?” Julius asked.

“Same, sir—nothing for the past two hours.”

Julius looked at the time display—it had been too long.

“They’re overdue,” Julius said. “Send a high-priority request for checkin to all teams.”

Julius waited for his acknowledgement, but none came. He noticed a confused expression on Jared’s face as he listened to his earpiece.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Julius asked.

“One moment, sir,” Jared said, as he looked down at his console. He frantically operated the controls for a moment then paused as he listened to his earpiece again.

“Something strange. I’m picking up a faint signal on the waves; it is identical to what we picked up earlier during the UEP and Confed engagement—from the projected ships.”

Julius tensed up. “Where is it coming from?”

Jared’s hands frenzied across the console and he shook his head. “I can’t tell sir, it’s

all around.”

“Captain!” Garval alerted. “I’m picking up a small group of our crew shuttles returning from the station. They are headed to us fast—they’re even bypassing the police checkpoints.”

“Jared, get an channel open to them now.”

“Have it, sir.”

“Onto the bridge speakers.”

The communication came up broken, “

and they have most of them! We had to leave them. Repeat, Sea Wolf: we’ve been double-crossed—it’s a trap!”

Julius kept his calm, despite all the alarms going off in his head. “Jared, signal the entire landing party: emergency recall now!”

“Yes, sir.” But then he paused. “Oh no

” His voice went faint.

“Sir, there’s—” Ramey began, but was interrupted by a sudden vibration that hit the bridge, quickly followed by the familiar high pitch whine from the gravity generators. The pitch began to increase to uncomfortable levels, causing Julius to cover his ears.

As suddenly as it started, the whine of the generators stopped. The lights on the bridge went from dark blue to white, signaling that they no longer remained in the stealth shroud.

“Ramey?” Julius asked.

“Gravity well, Captain,” Ramey said as he gazed up at the viewscreen and pointed. “From them.”

On the main viewscreen a fleet of warships were now in view, surrounding them from every angle. Julius leaned back in his command chair and silently took in the multitude of warning indicators appearing on the screen.

He chuckled sadistically at the sight of the targeting computer straining itself to mark the seemingly endless amount of enemy ships. The computer marked the vessels with letters, starting from “A” and ending at “Z.” Unable to handle the amount of ships it saw as aggressors, it left the remaining ships with a “?” mark and some with no mark at all. Probably a bug in the software, Julius mused.

“How many targets, Ramey?”

Ramey blinked a few times as his hands operated the controls. “Yes, sir. Seventy-seven total targets. Navy battle groups from the Martian Confederacy and UEP, with some smaller Venusian forces as well. The groups comprise a battleship, destroyers, and other smaller strike craft.”

Julius sat silently for a moment longer. He could see the nervous glances between the officers as they tried to secretly weigh the odds of survival. Many times they had been in this type of situation before and they counted on him, Julius Verndock, their captain, to pull enough luck out of the empty vacuum of space to save their hides. But he knew that luck was a precious resource that could eventually run out.

“Well,” Julius said calmly. “Since we’re plainly visible, there’s no use in worrying about not having enough power for the weapons and stealth, now is there?”

Julius took in a breath before giving the order.

“Battle alert!”

******

Hargo brought a cigar to his lips and inhaled. Although he savored the aroma, it was not as tasty as a soul cigarette—perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, he would stuff someone in this cigar and smoke them. It was a big cigar after all, so perhaps he could even fit more than one soul in it—or perhaps a very portly one? Either would do.

He blew a plume of smoke toward his two commandos, secretly daring them to complain about it, but they apparently knew better as no one said a word.

The three of them stood inside a security room, surrounded by holograms showing the activities of the superstation’s population. The images cycled periodically to show everything from the shuttle landing decks to the security checkpoints that led into the Venus-1 inner city.

Earlier, they had received information about a pirate gang somewhere in the Aphrodite Springs Casino. The three of them had searched all of the likely hangout places throughout the casino until they ended up at a bar called The Impact Crater. There they found a group of men that looked to be part of their quarry.

Unfortunately, Hargo received warning about Venusian Peacekeepers moving into the club, and he and his men had to abort the operation. They watched the Venusians take members of the pirate gang away and into custody. Without further leads, Hargo had to dig up more information—and breaking into one of the local security command stations seemed like a good way of obtaining that information.

Moments ago, they had eliminated the small security detail posted to guard this room. They were easy kills, but at least it satisfied his craving for a fight.

Hargo rubbed his cheek and felt the sticky blood oozing from it. Reminded of the wound, he squinted down at the dead guard who had drawn his blood. He kicked the body until he felt the metal point of his boot penetrate the lifeless flesh.

The other two continued their work unfazed, not even bothering to look at his show of brutality. When he finished taking out his anger on the corpse, Hargo turned to one of the men.

“How much longer, Frank?” he asked with a calm tone that did not betray the rage within him.

“Almost have it,” Frank replied.

His commandos had connected a portable terminal into the hard-line of the security systems and were attempting to snoop the secure communications between the station’s security forces. After a few minutes, Frank looked up at Hargo and nodded.

“I have it,” he said. “It’s a security bulletin about the capture of the pirates. They’re being taken to Earth via a nearby transport. It hasn’t taken off yet.”

Hargo looked at his wrist-link. “We only have a few minutes before this bunch is due to check in with their central command. Download the data on the security detail and let’s go.”

The three men soon left the security room and made their way to a parked shuttle outside. The shuttle was of the small scout variety, able to transport a small force of half a dozen men. Painted with the typical Venusian black and yellow colors, it bore Peacekeeper markings on its hull.

Hargo used a keyring he took off the dead guard’s finger to enter it. Accompanied by Jackson, Hargo made his way toward the forward compartment where the cockpit was located. Frank stayed in the main deck, attending to the hardware they brought with them.

The cockpit computer, sensing the proximity of the keyring, lit up all the instrumentation for them the moment they entered. A holographic display gave them a good view of their surroundings and basic tactical information showing current police patrol routes and communication bulletins.

Four seats stood in the center of the cockpit. Hargo took the main seat and activated the pilot interface. After a holographic joystick and throttle control appeared in front of him, he gripped them and began to maneuver the craft. The shuttle lifted off from the landing pad and began its rapid ascent into the superstation’s skies.

Hargo could see the multitude of city lights swirl below them as they yawed and banked into the sky. In the distance, he could see civilian craft bunched up as they traversed congested traffic lanes into the commercial buildings, with holographic signs pointing the way into their entertainment of choice.

He punched in the coordinates for the prison transport and a compass and range indicator appeared on the holographic display. He banked the joystick and pushed on the throttle, piloting the shuttle to the destination. Frank returned from the back of the shuttle and sat in an empty seat.

“Everything in order?” Hargo asked.

“Yes,” Frank replied. “I have the sniper rifle assembled. Diagnostics check out.”

“Are you sure that’s all we’re going to need?” Jackson said. “Those are Venusian Peacekeepers, and they’re usually well-armed.”

“It won’t be a problem,” Frank assured them. “I’ve seen this thing take out half a platoon of soldiers in under three seconds; they didn’t even have a chance to react before they were dead.”

“And if it doesn’t kill them

” Hargo said as he took out his flicker pistol and waved it. “You and me will finish the rest.”

After a few minutes, the shuttle arrived at the destination. Hargo piloted the shuttle over it, doing a slow pass to get a good view of the prison transport below.

The landing pad was surrounded by various storage structures that bore Venusian government markings on them. The transport itself sat on the pad with its entrance ramp lowered, guarded by two armed Peacekeepers who stood on the sides of the entrance. They did not mark any other security or personnel in the area.

Hargo activated a thermal scan of the shuttle, and could see the heat signatures of four occupants inside, but they appeared to be stationary.

The prisoners

Hargo noted that a number of small structures sat adjacent to the pad, which could provide good cover. He maneuvered the shuttle low to the ground, using the structure to mask it from view. The shuttle landed and the three of them exited. Hargo lead the way, with the other two carrying a small crate that housed the sniper rifle and mounting system.

Hargo left the two to finish setting up the rifle and walked to the corner of the building. He peeked around and saw the prisoner transport. Using the magnifying lens in his glasses, he could see he had an unobstructed view of the guards, who stood roughly two hundred yards away. He moved back out of sight and called the other two over to move the assembled rifle into position.

The sniper weapon platform sat on a sturdy-looking tripod and had a pair of antigravity motivators for rapid movement and placement. The rifle itself had a barrel about a meter in length and a digital scope on top of it. A computer terminal with a holographic display screen was attached to the base of the tripod.

“Two is going to be cake,” Frank said as he began typing on the rifle terminal.

Hargo peered over his shoulder and could see a magnified display of the two guards. Target designators appeared over both of them, with a dotted line crossing between them, showing the programmed traversal of the weapon for both kills.

“Since it’s only two,” Frank said, “we’ll double-tap the first, then triple the second. Even with their body armor, it will be over in seconds.”

Hargo readied his flicker pistol. “We’re going to move into a flanking position on the other side of that structure. When I give the signal, you’re going to simultaneously jam their communications and then shoot. Then we will move in and grab the prisoners.”

Frank nodded.

“Don’t fuck this up, Frank,” Hargo warned.

Hargo and Jackson readied their weapons and walked briskly to the adjacent structure, closer to the transport. They used the structures’ shadows along the way as cover, moving into position unnoticed.

Hugging the wall, Hargo peeked his head out and looked toward the shuttle. They were much closer to the transport now. He could even make out the Venusian logos on the guards’ Peacekeeper uniforms. From here, he would have a good attack position against them if the sniper failed. Once the guards were down, they would move in to grab as many of the prisoners as they could and escape in the Peacekeeper shuttle.

Hargo noticed that the guards turned to face each other and became preoccupied chatting; he would take advantage of the opportunity. He tapped his wrist-link and sent a signal to the sniper.

“Get ready,” he whispered to Frank.

The first shot was barely noticeable. It came as a thin, blue tracer slicing through the air and impacting the first guard. As he went down, the second guard whirled his rifle and began to crouch down for cover, but it was in vain. The follow-up shots sent him flying back, with a final pairing of shots striking his helmet and breaking his head into pieces. What was left of him hit the shuttle’s hull with an audible thump and landed into a crumpled mess on the ground.

“Let’s go!” Hargo ordered.

He and Jackson shot out from behind the wall and darted toward the transport.

******

It was over, and Laina knew it. She was imprisoned in a small room within a transport. The room had a single window on the lone door that was locked securely from the outside. Through the window, she was afforded only a limited view of the holding area of the ship, but it was enough to witness the portents that signified her organization’s end.

An hour earlier, she saw Peacekeepers bring Murdock into the transport and forcibly deposit him through a door of an adjacent holding cell. Now, she got to see the same act replayed as they forced Reece into a room of his own. The sound that the locking mechanism made as they shut the door behind him gave it a finality that was akin to a coffin being closed for the last time—the coffin lid of her organization. It was over.

Laina sat back down in her chair, the only piece of furniture afforded to her in this new home she was forced to occupy. She knew that she would probably be missing the solitude and quiet of this small room. It was a matter of time before she was acquainted with a new home that would make this temporary stay here seem like a seven-star luxury resort visit.

Her eventual destination would depend on which government wanted her the most. If it was the Confed, she would likely be sent to a Martian prison mine where she would be worked to death under treacherous conditions. Regardless of the fact that she was a woman, she would be worked alongside the male ruffians—Mars did always pride itself on equal opportunity regardless of sex and creed.

Or, maybe if she was lucky, it would be the Space Habitat Coalition, where they would let her serve out her time on a remote outpost, doing dangerous spacewalk repairs of aging stations where she could at least get a view of the stars.

If it was the UEP, well

nobody really knew what happened to those prisoners.

Whatever her fate, her future was going to be a bleak one. She would now truly be put into permanent retirement whether she wanted to or not, and her days of plundering transports on the Sea Wolf were now officially over.

The real world, the world outside of the sanctuary of the Sea Wolf, would now greet her. She would be thrust back into that world of anarchy—the product of centuries of governments and greedy corporations running the universe amuck.

And like a newborn baby, being introduced into the world outside its womb for the first time, she would not be happy about it.

Laina thought somberly to the unfinished business she had with Chorus, a mystery that would remain unsolved. She might never find out what happened to her, the crew, and her old friend Julius.

Perhaps they would escape and cheat death’s grip once more. They had done it before—Julius had always done it before. If anyone could do it

Laina shook her head.

Von Haufsberg had spelled it out for her in painful detail. They had walked right into a trap, and they walked into it as vulnerable as they could ever possibly be.

The Sea Wolf was crippled with only one reactor, what crew was left were scattered across Venus-1, and the leader of their fighter squadron was already locked up with Laina on this transport. An entire task force of ships lay in ambush for the Sea Wolf, and not even Julius would be able to stop them or get away. It was indeed over.

At that moment, she heard a commotion outside and what sounded like flicker fire. She stood up and looked through the window eagerly.

Julius coming to rescue me? she thought.

She could see the one guard stationed inside the transport scrambling to get his helmet on, but a stream of flicker fire flew in his direction, striking the inside of the transport walls. A shower of sparks flew over him from the damaged instrumentation. The guard covered his face and winced from the pain, then he threw the helmet against the wall and unholstered his rifle.

Another volley of flicker fire flew into the transport, but this time he ducked down with his rifle at the ready. Taking cover to the side of the door entrance, he returned fire.

Laina wondered why he had not simply closed the ramp door, but then noticed that the nearby controls had been destroyed by the incoming fire. She tried to get a view of who was on the other side attacking the guard, but the view from her window was limited to just the inside of the transport. In the room adjacent to her, Murdock would likely be able to get a better view of the action. She wished she could somehow trade rooms with him.

The Peacekeeper continued to trade fire with his aggressor, taking careful aim through the mounted scope of his rifle. A sudden volley of flicker fire caught him off guard and struck him. He ducked behind the wall and grabbed his thigh.

Laina could see the expression of pain on his face. She felt empathy for his plight; he was only doing his job, after all. Laina hoped that Julius and the crew would show restraint and not kill the man.

After a few exchanges of fire, the guard stopped firing as frequently and began to strip out of his body armor. Some sporadic fire continued to enter the transport and he intermittently returned fire with his rifle. As he blindly fired through the doorway, he began working off the remnants of the suit.

Soon, Laina could see that he had completely stripped out of his armor and had it propped up in a corner. He positioned the limbs in a lifelike pose and completed the ruse by latching the helmet on top of the neck.

A quick glance would give the impression that the Peacekeeper was still sitting in the corner with his armor on.

Apparently satisfied, the Peacekeeper made his way to an empty prison cell that was not in the direct line of fire. He fired some shots through the small window on the door, busting it out, then positioned himself on the inside with the door partly closed.

Minutes passed in silence without further flicker fire. Laina could barely make out the silhouette of a man approaching the ramp from the side. She wondered if it was Julius coming to rescue her finally; she would have to warn him somehow about the guard.

Before she could think of a way to get his attention, the man rushed in with his flicker pistol, whirling it around at the body armor and crouching down to fire. Sparks and flames erupted from the suit as he unloaded his flicker fire into it. A piece of debris from the suit hit the window and a loud crack sounded that made Laina jump. It struck the window so hard that it became embedded in the glass.

At that moment, the Peacekeeper fired from inside his cell, catching the assailant square in the chest.

“No!” Laina yelled, but it was too late.

The man stumbled back from the Peacekeeper’s continued attack. The guard marched forward toward the man, all the while firing at him until he fell to the ground.

Laina managed to get a look at his face before he went down, and to her relief, it was not Julius—in fact, it was not anyone that she recognized at all.

The Peackeeper moved quickly back into the holding room and crouched down low. Using the door of the room as cover, he pointed his rifle toward the entrance and waited. A full minute passed with no further intruders or flicker fire coming in.

Apparently sensing it was clear, he made his way to the cockpit and disappeared from view. A moment later, the ramp door began to close and Laina could feel the rumble of the engines sputter to life.

Her hopes faded. She sat back down in her chair, solemnly resigning herself to her fate—she was not going to be rescued after all.

She glanced up at the window one last time and noticed the debris stuck in it had some lettering on it. Out of curiosity, she moved closer to get a better view.

The debris was a metal, oval-shaped badge. It had yellow and black coloring, and the logo of the Venusian Initiative along with the Peacekeeper designation. The Peacekeeper’s name was engraved on it.

“What?” she whispered.

It couldn’t be

It was beyond coincidence—it was just

impossible!

She got closer and looked it over again and again, as if trying to discredit what she saw—but the lettering was quite clear:

Venusian Peacekeeper, Daryl Verndock.

CHAPTER 24: INTERVENTION

Hargo rushed toward the transport, slowing his approach as he got to within a few meters of it. Jackson stopped with him and awaited his instruction. Hargo crouched down low, with his pistol at the ready as he inspected the two guards.

The first one had multiple burn marks in a concentric pattern on his torso. Upon a closer look, he could see the burns consisted of three, evenly spaced shots in a triangular formation. The sniper rifle’s accuracy and speed was impressive to have made such precise shots. Perhaps the hefty salary they were paying Frank was worth it after all.

He gave a passing glance at the body of the other guard, but could tell from what was left of his head that there was no need to worry about him, either.

At that moment, he heard the familiar whiz and snap sound of flicker fire—coming from the sniper rifle.

He ducked down angrily, wondering for a split second if Frank was trying to target him purposely, but the fire was concentrated inside the shuttle.

A moment later he heard and saw return fire erupt from inside the transport—apparently, there must have been another guard inside after all.

Hargo tapped his wrist-link. “What’s in there?” he yelled.

“One Peacekeeper,” came Frank’s tinny-sounding response.

Another volley of flicker fire exchanged between the them.

“Keep at it until you take him out,” Hargo ordered.

The firefight continued for several more exchanges and then suddenly stopped. Hargo waited for Frank to report his status through the wrist-link.

“I think I got him,” came Frank’s voice finally.

“Are you sure? Hargo pressed.

“Pretty sure.”

Hargo looked toward Jackson and gave him the signal to go into the transport. Jackson nodded and darted inside with flicker pistol in hand.

Immediately he heard the sound of flicker fire and small explosions erupt from inside the transport. He was about to jump in but hesitated when he heard the lower-pitched sound of a flicker rifle firing.

After a moment, the shots stopped and he heard what sounded like someone hitting the floor.

He hugged the hull of the transport and crouched down low. He inched himself closer to get a peek inside the transport. Suddenly, the ramp door began to close and a weapons platform began to emerge from the top of the transport.

“Cover me!” he spoke into his wrist-link.

Hargo backed away from the transport and then darted back across the way toward the safety of the building wall. As he ran, he could hear the sound of the weapons platform rotating behind him—but it did not fire. He made it to the wall and ducked behind it.

Panting, he looked toward the sniper position. He was going to make that idiot Frank pay for his screw up.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of the transport’s engines come alive. He peeked his head out from the wall and caught sight of it lifting off—there was only one chance left.

“Beta team,” he spoke into his wrist-link. “Primary recovery plan failed. You are clear to intercept transport target.”

“Acknowledged,” the response came.

Hargo looked at the Peacekeeper transport escaping into the starlit sky. It would be exiting the edge of the atmospheric field in moments and be in open space. A few minutes later, it would be able to jump out of the system.

Their window of opportunity was going to be tight, but they still had a chance to pull this off.

At that moment a beep sounded on his wrist-link—it was Frank.

“What?” Hargo asked.

“I’m picking up chatter on the shuttle’s tactical—from the Peacekeepers. It looks like they’re aware of us and are sending reinforcements. It sounds like they’ll be here any minute.”

“I thought you were jamming them?” Hargo asked.

“I was—but when the transport launched, it must have gotten a signal off to an already nearby patrol.”

“Get the equipment back in the shuttle; we’re taking off.”

He shut off the conference link and looked at the path to the shuttle in the distance. He saw no signs of other Peacekeepers or activity in the area—it was a clear path for the moment.

Hargo strode toward the shuttle with flicker pistol in hand. As he walked, he glanced around at the surrounding structures for any signs of danger as he made his way there—so far, so good.

Just as he got close, he heard the sound of police sirens piercing the air. He turned around to the source of the sound. In the distance near the landing pad he’d just left, he could see a group of Peacekeepers emerge from behind a structure.

“Halt where you are!” an amplified voice boomed out from them.

He saw Peacekeepers rappel down to the ground from the craft. They looked in his direction and began to aim their rifles at him. He immediately broke out into a full sprint toward his shuttle.

Flicker fire began to streak above his head. Some of the blue beams of energy struck the path ahead of him on the ground, while other fire hit the structures around him.

Sparks and debris splashed at him, raining pieces that scraped the exposed skin on his face. But he ignored the superficial wounds and continued ahead.

He ran in a zigzag pattern to evade additional fire and then stopped behind a wall.

“Frank!” He yelled into his wrist-link, panting heavily and trying to catch his breath. “Get on the sniper rifle and hold them off!”

A moment later, streaks of flicker fire flew past him from the sniper toward the Peacekeepers chasing him. He peeked around the wall to see three of the Peacekeepers on the ground, but a dozen more were behind them and began to return fire.

A barrage of fire flew toward the sniper’s position and Hargo could see him abandon the rifle and duck into the Peacekeeper shuttle for safety.

“Get back on that fucking rifle!” Hargo yelled into the wrist-link, but there was no response.

Hargo had a clear path to the shuttle, only twenty yards away. But without cover fire he would stand little chance of getting to it—he was going to have to make a choice.

“Beta team,” he spoke into his wrist-link. “Break off intercept and head directly to my position, immediately.”

There was a pause. “But sir, we almost have them—are you sure?”

“Yes! Go full throttle and lay down suppression fire at the Peacekeeper force chasing me!”

“Acknowledged,” the voice came back, disappointment evident in his voice.

Hargo held his flicker pistol high then quickly peeked his head beyond the cover of the wall.

On the other side, he saw the face of a Peacekeeper practically in front of him. Taking advantage of the soldier’s surprise, he fired his pistol point-blank at his head and saw him go down.

Another Peacekeeper stood a few meters behind the first. Hargo got two shots off in his direction before ducking back to the safety of the wall. A barrage of return fire came at him, but it all either whizzed by or struck the structure.

At that moment he heard footsteps nearby. He whirled his pistol and crouched down only to see an unarmed woman in a cocktail waitress outfit standing a few meters away from him. Her long hair was straight and blonde, and her eyes were a bright blue.

Hargo would have to figure out later how she got so close to him without noticing. But it didn’t matter a damn to him right now: she was his ticket out of here. Hargo stalked toward her and grabbed her, putting her into a headlock with his free arm. He put his gun to her head.

“Okay, bitch,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear. “Don’t struggle, and do what I fucking say—and maybe you’ll get to live.”

To his surprise, she did not fight him and instead began to giggle. She drunk? he wondered.

He squeezed her neck hard, to the point where it must have constricted her breathing.

“This isn’t a joke, bitch. You better sober up. I will kill you right here.”

Again she laughed.

Hargo brought a hard knee to her stomach. He then turned her around and slammed her against the wall, his hand now around her neck.

“Still think this is funny, bitch?” he said, his face close to her. “I’ll make you feel pain like you’ve never felt—”

She casually put her hand over his wrist, and with a strength she should not possess, she pulled his hand off of her. Hargo pushed back, but her grip was like a vise. She gave him a wink and then twisted his arm behind him, slamming him headfirst into the wall in one swift motion.

Hargo dropped his pistol and almost blacked out from the attack.

“What the fuck?” He groaned in pain.

“Yes, actually,” she said. “I do think it’s funny. I think you are funny—I think all of you humans are funny.”

She twisted him around and pinned him against the wall by the shoulders.

Hargo could feel blood streaming down his face and into his eyes. He blinked hard to clear his clouded vision.

“Let’s skip the foreplay,” she said. “I want to know everything about you—everything. Now look at me!”

She grabbed him by the chin and peered into his eyes. Her eyes glowed with an unnatural blue light that seemed to hypnotize him.

He could feel something in his mind, like a whirlwind of chaotic thought that began to grow inside him. The whirlwind overwhelmed him, sucking in his thoughts to the point where it felt as if his very being was being erased.

Everything around him began to darken and the only light he could see was that eerie blue in her eyes. He felt himself begin to pass into unconsciousness.

“No!” she yelled, slapping his face. “Not yet! What is your purpose here? Who do you work for?”

He looked up groggily and managed to spit blood in her face. “Fuck you!”

She pulled him close to her and reached down to take his hand in hers. With a sudden motion, she bent his fingers and then twisted them all the way around. A loud crack sounded. Hargo yelled in agony and almost passed out from the pain.

“We can make this rough if you like,” she whispered to him with a seductive smile. “Tell me, do you like to receive pain as much as you do in delivering it?”

“Halt!” a voice called from behind them. “Stop what you’re doing! Back away from him now or we will fire at you!”

In between the waves of sharp pain, Hargo made out the figures of Peacekeepers surrounding them both. If nothing else, at least the pain from her attack might soon end.

“Well,” she said, without turning away from him. “I guess we’ll have to make this a quickie.”

Her eyes began to glow brighter and the world around him began to fade to black. He saw a kaleidoscope of imagery pass before his eyes, scenes from his childhood—memories that he had long since forgotten.

The images played forward like a recording.

Hargo then saw himself as an adult, on Earth, during winter—snow in every direction. He watched his father get out of his hovercar. The bastard did not seem to even notice the battle axe Hargo held in his hands. Instead, he approached Hargo with a determined look—that same look he wore when he beat Hargo as a boy—but Hargo was no longer a boy.

Hargo lifted the axe high in the air and swung it straight down on his father’s head, splitting it in half—an explosion of brain, bone, and blood showered the air. The landscape was now tainted by the invading blood—it seemed to almost glow as it dyed the innocent white snow.

As his father fell to the ground, he gazed at the hovercar’s windshield—little rivers of blood trickled through the ice. Hargo approached it and leaned over—running his tongue against it and tasting the icy blood, reveling in the pleasure it gave him.

The memories flashed forward again and now he was in Jack Dagiri’s office, being interviewed for a security job.

“That will be enough,” Hargo heard the woman say.

Suddenly and without warning, she grabbed his head with both her hands and smashed it against the wall behind him. The impact resulted in blood and bone fragments splattering the wall.

Hargo’s world went black

and then ended.

*****

The Peacekeepers moved in just as the man’s lifeless body slumped down to the ground in front of her.

The mysterious woman turned around to face her newest aggressors. She imagined that they probably wore shocked expressions behind the dark tints of their face helmets. The thought amused her.

“Now then,” she said to them. “Who wants to play with me?”

******

Haylek sat on a bench, feeling significantly more human after being able to wash up. The three of them used the transport’s bathroom to get some of the stench of the garbage scow off. They still did not smell good, but at least the air around them was breathable.

They were in a small living space at the back of the transport. Freeze and Doc were now situated at a table, both huddled in front of their terminal. Haylek sat on a bench seat with his back to the wall. His head began to throb. The withdrawal symptoms were beginning to hit him. He had to think about something to keep himself from going crazy.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace that Chorus had left behind. Curious, he brought it closer to him, using the light of the transport to help discern its details. The chain was a thin silver-like material with no links. It seemed to be a single piece that had the flexibility of a fabric—yet it shined and had the weight and feel of metal. Holding it by one end, he let the length of the chain drop slowly into the palm of his hand. The thin material balled up and collected in the center with the consistency of a liquid—it was like nothing he had seen before.

At the end of the chain hung a clear, crystal-like jewel. It no longer gave off the luminescence that it did before when it was around her neck. Nonetheless, he could not keep his eyes off of its exotic beauty. He decided to put the necklace around his neck, all the while wondering why she left it for him. Was it an accident? Maybe she really meant to take it with her.

That did not seem likely, though—all her actions to date seemed to be deliberately planned. The way she let herself get moved and then subsequently captured by the pirates. Then sending CrazyWold to rescue them, right after they started the Brotherhood movement. To having this pirate, Eddie, pick them up at the platform and whisk them away from the station.

There was more to her plan, he knew that—but he wondered what it was, and should he really trust her? Was she really looking out for them, or was there more to it? Was she using them?

Haylek shook the questions out of his mind. He could drive himself crazy trying to wrap his head around it all. All he knew is that they were headed to her “home” as she called it.

Eddie had explained they were actually headed to a ship called the Sea Wolf—which Haylek remembered CrazyWold mentioning as well. Apparently, it was run by pirates, with Eddie himself part of the crew. What this had to do with Chorus, neither of them knew. Eddie seemed to know even less about Chorus than Haylek did. The question of what she had planned for all of them would simply have to wait for her to reveal it herself.

Suddenly, Haylek was knocked off his bench and the lights around him went out. He squinted as he felt his face hit the floor hard. Haylek managed to push himself up and look around the transport. The lights had come back on, and he saw Freeze and Doc on the ground as well, fallen on top of each other. They both looked at him with bewildered expressions.

Haylek picked himself up off the floor just as the shuttle shook hard again. He grabbed onto a handrail, fighting his own inertia as he inched his way to the forward compartment.

The sound of metal scraping metal, along with a sudden clang, resounded throughout the ship. Inside the pilot cabin, he saw Eddie behind the controls. He quickly dropped himself into a seat behind him, in a corner surrounded by the comfort of terminals and displays.

Ahead of them, he gazed at transparent metal windows which showed numerous other spacecraft traversing congested lanes of traffic. The arteries of ships all converged into the bottleneck of a single security checkpoint ahead.

Eddie was flying their transport fast and outside of the defined lanes.

“What’s going on?” Haylek asked.

“We’re being chased,” Eddie responded behind gritted teeth. The transport banked and turned, traveling in between the other ships. “I’m trying to lose them in the traffic.”

“Who’s chasing us?”

“Venusians, Enforcers, Confed—probably everyone, mate!”

A blue flash of light zipped by outside, followed by another. Haylek felt a vibration in his seat.

“Are they

?”

“Firing at us? Oh yeah.”

Eddie pointed to a control panel. “Get on the turret station controls.”

Haylek looked at the station’s control panel then back at him dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“The guns! You can shoot back and slow them wankers down.”

Haylek just looked at the panel and shook his head. “I don’t think I can

”

Another flash, and this time the transport shook hard and he could feel it buckle.

“Fine, mate,” Eddie said. “We’ll just have to see how maneuverable this thing can be. You better hold on to your lunch.”

Haylek stared ahead and could see him point their transport directly toward a heavy traffic lane. The ships were tightly packed and there was a small gap that he was apparently aiming for. Haylek grabbed hard onto the seat’s hand rests and braced himself as the shuttles became rapidly bigger through the window.

Eddie maneuvered their ship, rolling and twisting it hard in between the tight gap between the shuttles. The familiar sound of metal hitting metal resounded as they scraped the sides of the ships. Haylek felt as if he was going to vomit.

“It’s either more of that,” Eddie said, “or you can man that turret control. It’s your choice.”

Their shuttle climbed vertically and pointed toward another lane of traffic; this one had oncoming ships moving toward them.

Haylek had to turn away. He would rather look at the turret panel and figure out its operation than keep looking at the suicidal flying. Looking over the controls, Haylek began fiddling with the panel. Fortunately, it did not take him long to figure it out. A display came on over the panel that showed the incoming aggressors approaching their aft. The ships were slickly shaped, with elongated wings that had cannons perched on top of them. Red and yellow colored lights cycled along its body, indicating it was a police ship of some kind.

Using the targeting computer, he moved the digital crosshairs over it. Hesitantly, he began to fire.

“That’s the spirit! Shoot them down! Make them sizzle!” Eddie ballyhooed.

Haylek watched the stream of accelerated proton fire stream out toward the pursuing ship. The beams went wide, missing the target—but it was enough to put the aggressors on notice that they were going to have get defensive.

The shuttle began to slow its pursuit and dropped farther away. As their ship banked and turned, another police ship came into view and joined the chase. Suddenly, Haylek noticed the two ships began to close in rapidly.

“I’m maneuvering so you can get a better shot,” Eddie said. “Fire away, mate!”

There was a flash on the display and he felt a sudden jolt as the transport buckled. There was another flash, and this time the transport banked hard and sparks flew from somewhere nearby. He shielded his eyes, but felt something burn his arm and yelped in pain.

“You okay?” Eddie called.

Haylek looked down at his arm; it had some black marks on it and it stung, but it was bearable. “I’m fine.”

“Well, you better get back to shooting, ’cause now you got their attention!”

He looked at the display and was about to target one of the police ships, but a sudden jolt knocked him hard in his chair. His side struck the arm rest and it hurt badly. He nursed his ribs and groaned in pain.

“Sorry, mate,” Eddie said. “Had to make a sudden move there.”

Haylek glared at Eddie, then turned back to the display. If those ships did not stop chasing them, they were going to die.

At that moment, he noticed Freeze peaking his head through the cabin door, a frightened look evident on his face.

“Freeze! Bring the terminal over here quick!”

Freeze ran off and returned with the terminal. On Haylek’s instruction, he helped him interface it to the transport’s firing computer. They huddled together over the display, enhancing the onboard targeting program.

The transport buckled again and they had to quickly grab onto the terminal to prevent it from crashing onto to the floor.

“I

uh, I think it’s ready,” Freeze said.

Haylek queued the aimbot program and let it execute. On the screen, he could see the program trying to target the incoming police ships. The digital crosshairs shifted across the screen zigzagging erratically—but it did not fire the weapon.

“Why doesn’t it shoot?” Freeze said.

Suddenly, as if the program itself heard him, beams of protons flashed and struck one of the police ships. Just as it began to drop from view, the crosshairs locked onto the other ship and rapidly fired. Both ships disappeared.

“Sizzle sizzle! Two flamerinoes! Good job!” Eddie exclaimed.

Haylek closed his eyes, having mixed feelings about shooting them. He felt like he was going to be sick again.

“Get ready, there’s more coming!” Eddie said.

Freeze pointed at the screen. Haylek looked at it and could see a new group of a dozen police ships closing in on them. The digital crosshairs began trying to track the targets, but its movement abruptly stopped. There was a flash on his terminal and he could see a coredump generated from the aimbot program.

“It crashed!” Freeze said.

“I know!” Haylek said.

“Then reload it!”

“Shut up! I know!” Haylek said as he tapped away madly at the surfaceboard.

“What is that?” Freeze said suddenly, pointing at his chest.

Haylek stopped tapping the surfaceboard and looked down at himself. Under the beads of his shirt, he could see a glow. He reached inside and pulled out the source of the light, it was the jewel from Chorus’ necklace. He was instantly mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colors that danced inside the crystal. In the palm of his hand, he could feel its warmth pulsating in waves against his skin, it had a strange euphoric feeling to it.

“Why’s it doing that?” Freeze said as he dreamily stared it.

Haylek shook his head. “I don’t know

but I kind of like it.” The last he found himself saying without thinking.

At that moment, he saw a thin vapor exude from the crystal. The wispy white cloud began to move with a purpose to the top of the turret station’s panel. It swirled and condensed itself into a solid human form. Its transparent vaporous color darkened and the tiny details that made up Chorus’ body materialized.

She wore a different outfit; it was still early twentieth century, but it was a black party dress this time. They stared dumbfounded at the six-inch miniature version of her standing there staring back at them. It was like something out of a fairy tale.

“You’re seeing this too, right?” Freeze broke the silence.

“Yes, I see the fairy,” Haylek confirmed.

“Waverider—you need to get ready to take control of the shuttle,” she said to him.

“Who are you guys talking to?” Eddie called back to them from the pilot seat.

Haylek gave her a confused look. “What do you mean? Eddie’s piloting the ship, not me!”

“Not for much longer,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Suddenly, a blue flash of light outside the window caused the ship to buckle. The impact from the enemy fire sent sparks flying inside the cabin from Eddie’s pilot station. Smoke began to fill the cabin and they both coughed until the ship’s ventilation system automatically pumped it out. When it cleared, Haylek went over to check on Eddie.

“Are you—” he began to ask, only to be shocked from the black burn marks and blood that covered Eddie’s face. He instinctively felt his neck for a pulse, but he could not detect one.

“I think he’s dead,” he said.

Chorus suddenly appeared standing on his shoulder; her voice was loud despite her tiny form.

“Both of you listen to me,” she said. “We don’t have much time. You have to follow my instructions exactly and without question. If you hesitate at all, you will not survive this. Do you understand me?”

Haylek and Freeze nodded. The ship buckled again and Haylek felt himself tense up in anticipation for another explosion, but the ship held itself together this time.

“We must hurry, we don’t have much time,” she said. “Get Eddie out of the seat and lay him down gently.”

They did as instructed, unstrapping Eddie from the seat and laying him flat on the floor. As he dropped his legs to the ground, Haylek could hear a groan.

“He’s alive?” Haylek said, hopeful.

“Yes. He will be okay,” Chorus assured. “Get in the pilot seat, Waverider. Freeze, go get The Doc—together you must get the turret program functioning again. I will help you both.”

She jumped down to the ground and her form began to fade into the white vapor again. The white smoke swirled in place and then split in two. The two clouds twisted and condensed into separate human forms. Before long, two even smaller versions of Chorus stood there. The two of them looked at Haylek with a grave expression.

“I will help you, Waverider,” one of them said.

“And Freeze, I will help you,” the other said.

“But we must hurry,” they both said in unison. “The time that we have left is almost up.”

CHAPTER 25: CAPTAIN’S PLAN

Julius heard the sound of battle drums fill the air and watched the lighting on the Sea Wolf’s command bridge darken.

Holographic displays activated around them. The illumination from the holograms pierced through the darkness, highlighting their crystal-clear details to him. Each one displayed tactical information ranging from shield and weapons status to damage control and life status. The latter had a special purpose as it showed the locations of the crew and any casualties—he would have to monitor this one more closely than he ever had before.

He rotated his command module to the Wave Warfare Officer.

“Jared, I want you to put a computer override on all escape pods. Lock them down from here. I don’t want any desertions.”

The bridge crew all turned to Jared and he hesitated.

“Do it!” Julius barked. “Garval, I want you to lock down all shuttles in the landing bay as well—including Merciless Errands. Encrypt the codes on the pods and ships to something that is nearly undecipherable. Then erase the private key so that even Jared can’t unlock it without several hours of cracking. That’s an order!”

“Yes, Captain!” they both responded in unison.

Julius did not like locking down potential military assets for so long, but keeping the crew from deserting him in this operation was more important.

He looked at the viewscreen and began to assess the tactical makeup of the situation.

The targets had moved into attack positions, but were not in tight formation. The UEP and Martian ships purposely distanced themselves from each other, and their ships were not commingled. Interestingly, the UEP and Venusian ships were in mixed formation with each other.

Allies, he thought to himself.

“Lockdown completed, sir,” Jared reported.

“Shuttles as well, sir,” Garval added.

“Good. Have there been any communications to us from the battle group?”

“Negative, sir,” Jared said. “Except for the communication from our pilots, it’s all quiet.”

Julius had almost forgotten about them. “What is the status of our friendlies?”

“They all managed to clear the battle-group perimeter without incident,” Garval said. “They are within twenty kilometers and should begin landing procedures shortly.”

“And no resistance from the battle group yet?” Julius asked, his eyes squinting with disbelief.

“No, sir. Nothing yet—but they do have all escape paths blocked.”

Julius rubbed his chin in thought. Why is it taking them so long to board us?

“Jessen, what is the status of the reactor?”

Jessen looked at his instruments then shrugged. “It’s strained, sir. But it is stable.”

Julius thought back to something that had been bugging him—the attack he tried to dissect that cost them so much, the failure caused by a power loss to the ship months ago.

He managed a faint grin. Julius knew he didn’t have enough crew to man the fighters

but this might just work.

“Jessen, do you think you could simulate a full power failure to the ship?”

Jessen turned his module to face him, then paused in thought before answering.

“I don’t think I could without coming close to a full shutdown of the reactor.”

“Could you do it and then bring it back up with enough power for the engines and gravity generators?”

Jessen turned back to his instrumentation and ran calculations. After a moment he nodded.

“I think so, sir,” he began. “But it’s a delicate set of procedures I’d have to run through—and without Murdock

”

“Would it be easier doing it from engineering?” Julius asked.

He nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m afraid I’d have to leave my post.”

Julius stood up and walked over to his module.

“Get down there, Jessen. I’ll take over navigation.”

Jessen stood up and saluted. Julius returned the salute.

“Good luck, sir,” Jessen said.

“We’ll make our luck, Lieutenant. Just as we always have.”

Julius sat in the navigation module adjacent to Ramey’s and took a second to rearrange the controls. He then looked to Ramey and they gave each other a nod.

This could be their last fight together, and they both knew it. But they were the most professional bunch of the unprofessional career of piracy. And as professionals, they would carry on their duties to the end.

At least, Julius thought to himself, I hope we do.

After a couple of minutes, Jessen signaled to Julius that he was ready to begin the reactor shutdown ruse.

“Before you begin,” Julius said to him, “we need to simulate an escape attempt. Let’s force the gravity amplifiers into a partial dispersion just prior to the shutdown. This will make it look as if we tried to break through their gravity well and it overloaded the reactor.”

“But sir,” Ramey interrupted, “if you do a partial dispersion, it will take ten minutes to recharge the lost energy for the capacitors. And that’s assuming we drop power to at least the weapons array.”

Julius nodded. “Yes, I know. But without showing a cause for the reactor failure, it will look far too suspicious. We will escape the gravity well on normal propulsion and evade the enemy for those ten minutes while the capacitor charges. Then we will jump out of the system. It is our only play at this point.”

Julius thought briefly to the crew they would be leaving behind. He’d come back for them later; he would not let them be tried and sentenced. But he could not worry about them now. Right now he had to concentrate on saving the ship.

Moments later, Jessen informed them he was ready. The controls to execute the jump attempt were on Julius’ station. He keyed in the sequence for the gravity jump and got it to the point where he only had to press one more button to execute it.

“Jessen,” he said into the conference link. “Get ready.”

Julius pressed the button.

The sound of the gravity generators could be heard, crescendoing from a low drone into a high-pitched whine. The bridge lights winked out completely and all of the holographic emitters deactivated, as did the instrumentation. The sound of the generators subsided and the bridge was completely dark and silent.

After a full second, the emergency power kicked in and things began to come back online. The lighting and holographic emitters activated, but the ship’s shields and weapons platform were inactive.

Julius opened a conference link to Engineering.

“Status?”

“Operation complete, sir,” Jessen’s voice came on. “Reactor is down to stage one startup—it would look like it was completely down to any remote ship scanners.”

“Good job, Lieutenant. Be ready to take her to full power. How many stages is that anyway?”

There was a pause. “Twelve stages until full power, sir. We’re going through the exact procedures for it now.”

“Well, then you better quickly acquaint yourselves with it. Stand by for execution order. Jared, get me a secure conference to whichever shuttle has our pilots in it.”

“Yes, sir. It’s the lead shuttle. You are linked,” he responded.

“Pilots, this is your captain. We need your help.”

Julius explained the plan to them. It was complicated, but if they stuck to their individual role in the operation, they would all make it out.

“Captain,” the voice from the pilot’s shuttle responded. Julius recognized it as Mac’s voice, and he briefly wondered why Reece was not with him.

“We’re towing a friendly and we don’t have much weaponry on these shuttles. We won’t be able to maneuver, and if we shoot at anything, it will be like a tickle on their arse.”

“I’m not expecting you to do any damage or acrobatics, Mac,” Julius said. “Just follow Garval’s direction according to plan and we will get out of this.”

“Yes, sir,” Mac said. “Godspeed, Sea Wolf.”

Julius cut the link off and could see Garval’s expression lighten up at being involved. Making sure the entire bridge crew did their part would be synergetic—and improved their chance of survival. It was also morale boosting, something they desperately needed right now.

“Jared, signal the nearest ship of our power loss situation—and that our life support systems are also affected. Signal to them our unconditional surrender.”

They waited as Jared broadcast the message.

“I am getting an acknowledgement from the UEP battleship,” Jared said finally. “They accept our surrender and have instructed us to prepare for boarding.”

He stared at the viewscreen in anticipation. Now they would wait for the task force’s next move.

The waiting did not last long.

“Sir, I’m picking up a small strike ship with intercept vectors on us. Target

” Ramey hesitated to finish.

Julius surmised it was probably because there was no letter designation available on the tactical for it.

Ramey’s hands operated the controls and the target letter designations changed. He reset the targeting computer to force it to re-letter them, but Julius could see him grimace from the result nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t highlight it.”

“Do it old school, Lieutenant,” Julius said. “Like it was before we had all these fancy computers.”

Despite their situation, Ramey managed a fleeting grin—it was an inside joke between the two of them.

“Yes, sir. The incoming ship looks to be a UEP naval troop shuttle. It will be here in two minutes.”

“How many troops inside?”

“Two dozen, sir,” Ramey responded.

The Sea Wolf had enough crew and small arms on board to repel a boarding attempt, but it would likely result in being bombed into oblivion by the main fleet, so it was not an option. The plan required the element of surprise and subterfuge.

“Sir, I’m picking up some chatter!” Jared said. “It’s encrypted, but it’s an old encryption that I was easily able to crack. It’s between the UEP and Confed.”

Julius’ eyes squinted. “An old cipher? Hmmm, probably because they haven’t had joint exercises together in years. What’s the chatter about?”

“They appear to be

” Jared snorted. “Arguing with each other. About who should have jurisdiction over our capture. It’s pretty heated, sir.”

Julius looked at the viewscreen, a sense of new hope beginning to emerge in him.

“Between the UEP and Confed, you say?” Julius asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jared confirmed.

“That would explain their formations,” Ramey interjected.

“Or lack of formations,” Garval added.

Julius nodded. “This will play right into our plan, gentlemen. Jared, signal to the Martian Confederacy our desire to surrender to them directly and to grant asylum to the refugees we carry, those who wish to defect.”

Jared raised his eyebrows. “Sir?”

“A slight change of plan. Martian law requires they accept any requests for asylum, even from refugees on board a fugitive ship if their guilt has not yet been established. They will now have to decide whether to allow the UEP to take us, or accept the request in accordance with their own laws. I would imagine this would be a moral dilemma for them. And the Confed is big on morals.”

Thankfully, Laina had once educated him about the laws of the major governments. He wished she were here now to advise him.

Jared sent the signal. “The receipt of the communication was acknowledged. They have asked us to stand by.”

“Captain,” Ramey said a moment later. “New contact. Martian Confederacy troop ship. It’s headed toward us—very quickly.”

“It’s trying to overtake the UEP ship,” Garval interjected.

“Captain,” Jared began. “Heavy chatter—it’s getting heated again.”

“Sir,” Ramey pointed to the viewscreen.

Julius looked up at it and could see the UEP ships begin to change position, with the Confed ships matching their move.

A new battle line was formed with the two forces in apparent opposition with each other. Only the Venusian forces stayed in position to cover the Sea Wolf—but there were now gaps in the line.

“This is getting hairy,” Garval said.

Julius watched on the viewscreen as the Martian troop ship approach the one from the UEP—a confrontation between the two navies would be imminent.

“Sir, I’ve received a communication from the Confed. They have accepted our request for surrender and asylum. They have instructed us to stand by for boarding by the Martian ship.” There was a pause. “Sir, they have also asked us to repel the UEP boarders!”

Julius grinned. It was even better than he had planned.

“Lieutenant Garval—execute this ruse de guerre.”

******

“You must reduce your speed and put down at the nearest landing pad. This is your last warning

”

Haylek’s hands trembled as he heard the ultimatum come on the conference channel.

“Ignore them,” Chorus said. “Press that button there to turn off the audio.”

Haylek did as instructed and heard an acknowledgement beep from the console.

“They might have missiles,” a weak voice cautioned. “If we get too far from them

”

Haylek turned around; it was Eddie. His face was a bloody mess, yet he tried to sit up from the ground, groaning in pain from the attempt.

“Are you okay?” Haylek asked him, wondering what kind of consolation he could possibly give him.

“He’s fine,” Chorus assured. “Divert your attention back to the controls.”

Haylek hesitated.

“Who is that?” Eddie mumbled.

The other Chorus that was helping Doc jumped down and landed near Eddie’s figure. He struggled again to try and get up. She whispered something into his ear that seemed to calm him down and he became still.

“The controls!” Haylek’s Chorus yelled at him.

He turned around and focused his attention on following her directions. She had given him a quick lesson in the basic operations of the craft. The controls comprised a flat imaging surface that used tactile input from his fingers. Some of the panels were damaged from the earlier explosion, and some of the interfaces and gauges were black and melted away.

Chorus helped him to divert the data to the working panels as well as reduce the complexity of the arrangement. With her help, he managed to reduce the clutter and get one of the panels down to the bare essentials for flight control: pitch, direction, and speed. It reminded him of the video games he used to play when he was not hacking the Ocean. Although he had never piloted a ship like this before, he had been successfully doing evasive maneuvers to avoid the incoming fire from the police ships.

Chorus jumped onto the control surface and manipulated the panels. The graphical windows and virtual gauges moved underneath her tiny hands as she dug deep into the onboard computer’s inner systems. She then jumped to another part of the panel and darted her hands across the flat screens with rapid motions that were hard for him to follow.

When she was done, aside from his flight controls, only a single flashing button was left on the display panel. He also noticed a compass appearing on the viewscreen with a waypoint indicator.

“When I tell you,” she said, “stop the jinking maneuvers and then follow that waypoint. Then I will instruct you to press this.” She pointed to the flashing button.

“Are you ready?” he heard the other Chorus say to the hackers.

“Yeah,” Freeze responded.

“Waverider, adjust course now!” his Chorus said.

Haylek did as instructed, angling the ship toward the waypoint indicator. Their heading now moved them toward an empty area of space away from the traffic lanes.

“Execute the program now!” the other Chorus ordered.

“Waverider, press the button now!” his Chorus said immediately after.

He did as instructed and pressed the flashing button. He felt the ship rumble and could see the transport lanes around them passing quickly out of view. A quick glance at the speed gauge showed they were accelerating rapidly.

Haylek then gave a look at the aft view display. At least a dozen police craft chased them now. A sudden barrage of fire erupted onto the screen and struck each ship almost simultaneously. He could see flashes of blue energy, quickly followed by another flash from the ships. The aft display went completed dark and he felt the ship’s rumbling stop.

On his control panel a new image appeared. It displayed a schematic of their shuttle’s engines with warning indicators showing damage. They were out of commission.

“What happened?”

“It worked!” Freeze said.

“What? What worked?” Haylek asked.

“The aggressors are pulling back,” the other Chorus explained. “But our firing turret and engines were destroyed from the overload.”

Haylek looked at the speed indicator; they seemed to be going on their own inertia and were outside of the superstation’s atmospheric dome.

“So

how are we going to maneuver now without engines?” he asked.

The other Chorus jumped onto his control station, joining his Chorus. They then walked toward each other and seemed to pass through one another, forming a single, slightly bigger, Chorus.

“We can’t maneuver,” she said simply. “Our engines are destroyed.”

Haylek looked at her and then back at the others. “What now?”

“We can’t get away now!” Freeze said. “The police will get us!”

“No, they will not,” Chorus said calmly. “Reopen your conference channel.”

Haylek looked at the various panels, the array of controls dizzying him.

“This one,” she said, tapping her foot near a button she stood on.

“Well, why don’t you just press it for me?” Haylek said, a little annoyed.

“You won’t learn how to be a pilot if I do it all for you, now will you?” she said with a smile.

“Who said I wanted to be a pilot?” he said, scowling.

“You’re going to be one before this is over, Waverider. You will ride space-time as skillfully as you do the digital waves of the Ocean. Press the button, please.”

Haylek reached his hand over to the button as she moved away for him to press it. He heard a beep and an audio transmission came on the speakers.

“Eddie, is that your ship?” a voice came on with an old Irish accent. “Please respond.”

Haylek gave Chorus a questioning look. She raised her eyebrows and motioned for him to respond.

“Uhhh—this is Eddie’s ship,” Haylek fuddled for words. “Eddie’s hurt, though. I’ve had to pilot for him and our engines are out. Can you help us?”

There was silence and Haylek began to wonder if they were even going to believe him.

Haylek muted his channel. “How are they going to know Eddie’s really in here?” he voiced his concern.

Chorus gave a slight smile and then motioned to the speaker in anticipation.

“Okay, Eddie tells me your name is Waverad’r. My name is Mac. I’m going to lock a tow beam onto yer ship. We will then tow you to the Sea Wolf. Make sure to deactivate yer shielding for this, lad.”

Mac’s ship suddenly appeared on the main screen above them, matching their speed and course.

He unmuted the channel. “Okay, I hear you. Whatever you say.”

Haylek eyed Chorus. “How can Eddie be telling him anything?” he whispered.

“Trust me,” Chorus said. “I’ve taken you this far. Trust me all the way and you will be fine.”

Haylek sighed. What choice do I really have? he thought to himself.

“Mate, we may have a problem,” Mac’s voice came back on. “We’re going to have to do something to help the Sea Wolf. Does your ship have gravity warp?”

Haylek looked toward Chorus. She shook her head.

“No

uh, negative,” he responded.

“Aye. Thought not—neither do we. But the captain has a plan, and we’re going to follow it. Just do what we say and you’ll be fine.”

He was getting used to hearing that.

CHAPTER 26: SMALL HEROES

It had been a long time since Julius sat in the Navigation Module. His fingers ran across the smooth surface of the control panel. A sudden tinge of nervousness shot up through his hands as he pre-programmed the ship maneuver into the navigation computer. He had forgotten about this feeling—being in direct control of a vital function of the ship. Things were different when you were the very instrument of the captain’s command. The anticipation and tension from the responsibility was refreshing to him and it made him feel alive again.

“Friendly targets firing,” Garval said.

Julius looked up from his station at the main viewscreen.

Flashes of blue energy lanced out from the lead pilot shuttle—Mac’s ship. The beams converged onto the UEP troop transport, just as it was within meters of docking with the Sea Wolf. The transport stopped its approach and turned away to face the shuttle. He could see a weapons platform rise up from its dorsal spine, the tips of missile warheads extruding from it.

It was now or never. Julius issued a command to the navigation computer to run the pre-programmed maneuver.

“Brace for collision!” he warned.

The claxon from the collision alarm drowned out the ambient sounds of the bridge. Up on the main viewscreen, he could see the port, dorsal section of the ship along with a close-up of the UEP troop transport ship closing in to dock.

The Sea Wolf made a sudden hard roll to the starboard. The port half of the Sea Wolf’s saucer-like hull collided with the UEP troop transport, swatting it away like a fly. The small ship drifted away and spun into space out of control, leaving swirling trails of leaking gas in its wake.

Julius could hear the sound of the hull plating absorb the impact—the damage would be heavy for the transport but superficial to the Sea Wolf. The friendly shuttles would now be safe from any counterattack by the UEP transport.

“Now changing course to Martian fleet, flank speed,” Julius said.

The viewscreen spun around and the Martian Confederacy battle group was now at their bow. The Sea Wolf’s engines pushed them rapidly toward it.

“Ramey—tell Jessen to get the reactor online.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Friendlies in position behind us—matching course and speed,” Garval reported.

“Captain, I’m receiving a communication from the Martian fleet,” Jared said. “They are requesting that we transmit to them the identities of the refugees immediately. They are also instructing us to hold our position until they can validate the information and to allow the Confed transport to dock with us.”

Julius knew they would call their bluff at some point, but he was ready for it.

“Transmit to them random identities from the crew manifest—deceased crew members of non-Martian descent.”

Jared ran his hands across his module’s panel. “How many do I transmit, sir?”

“How many match that criteria?” Julius asked.

Jared looked down at his station. “One hundred and twelve.”

Julius observed the somber expressions from the officers and he felt his own heart sink. Had they really lost so many over the years?

“Transmit half of it,” Julius said quickly. “Their deaths will buy us the time we need to live. We will maintain our course and speed.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jared said.

Julius opened a conference link to Engineering.

“Jessen, how are we doing on the reactor?”

There was a delay before he answered. “On stage three, sir.”

Julius felt like cursing, but he knew it would not be good for the crew to see their captain distressed.

“Let me know the moment it is up and charging the capacitor.”

“Sir,” Jared began. “The Confed is repeating its demand for us to allow the transport to dock. They have also warned us that any attack on the transport or its occupants would have serious consequences.” He paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow before continuing. “There is a diplomat aboard it.”

“A diplomat?” Julius repeated.

Jared nodded.

Julius ran his hands across the controls. “Coming to full stop. Tell the Confed we are accepting their boarders, but we need some protection.”

Jared sent the message and paused. “No response yet.”

“Well, let’s hope their moral compass is still functional,” Julius said. “Garval, get our friendlies on board.”

“Aye, sir. Already working on it.”

A sudden flash on the screen blinded them, followed by another series of flashes from explosions across the battle line. A deluge of fire erupted from the UEP fleet toward the Confederacy, which retaliated with its own barrage of fire. The screen was awash in multicolored energy weapon exchanges and explosions—the battle between the two fleets had begun.

“Looks like war, sir,” Ramey said.

Julius tried to make out the tactical data on the screen, but there was too much activity to get a clear picture.

“I need that tactical cleared up. Narrow the targeting computer’s sensor cone to only the significant and closest threats.”

“Aye, sir.” Ramey’s hands seemed to struggle against the panel for a moment. “Done, sir.”

On the main screen, Julius could see letter designations appear over some of the ships. The Martian Confederacy fleet appeared to be moving toward the Sea Wolf in a wall formation, with the closest ships attempting to shield them from the enemy fire.

So far, the UEP ships had sent nothing in their direction, but the Venusians were closing in on their craft. The Confed fleet was trying to get its ships positioned quickly enough to block their approach, but the Venusian ships were smaller and more agile—it would only be a matter of time before they got past them.

“Status of friendlies?” Julius asked.

“Last of them have landed,” Garval reported. “The Martian transport is now on landing approach.”

“Get the crew to their duty stations as soon as they unload. Get the pilots into their fighters immediately. And I want Murdock down in Engineering to relieve Jessen.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Ramey—have a security detail meet the Martian ship when it lands. Order the team to make no aggressive gestures. We will quarantine them in their ship until we are out of this quagmire.”

“Aye,” Ramey responded.

“Captain!” Garval said. “I’m being told Murdock is not with the crew.”

Julius took in a breath. “What about Laina?”

Garval shook his head. “She’s not with them either, sir. Others are missing as well.”

Julius felt his heart sink. Could she be dead or captured?

“What about the pilots? How many of them?” Julius asked.

“Reece is not with them. Eddie is seriously injured.”

“Understood. Carry on with your orders.”

“Captain! The Venusians have slipped through,” Ramey pointed to the screen. “They are on intercept vectors to us.”

Julius looked up at the viewscreen and saw it zoom in on the squadron of Venusian fighters. It was a dozen strike fighters, and the tactical overlays showed each loaded with a compliment of antimatter bombs. If they managed to get close enough to release their payload, it would only take a couple of hits to decimate the Sea Wolf.

A beep chimed from his communication panel; it was Engineering.

“Captain, reactor is now fully running. Approximately ten minutes before we can get the capacitor charged up.”

“Good work, Jessen. How much power can you give me for combat?”

“Only enough for shields, sir—no weapons array.”

“If we keep shields down, will it recharge quicker?”

“Negative, sir. The capacitor can only recharge up to a certain rate—more power will not help.”

“Very well. Let me know the moment the capacitor is ready for a jump. Garval—status of pilots?”

Garval did not answer and was looking down at his station wearing a frustrated expression.

“Garval, status?”

“Sorry, sir. We only have three pilots available. They are getting ready to launch now. The Martian transport is also on board.”

Julius looked up at the incoming Venusian fighters. “Get them out there, Lieutenant. Quickly. And link me to their channel.”

“Aye, sir,” Garval responded. “Linked.”

“Pilots, this is your captain. Do you read me?”

“Aye, Captain,” Mac’s voice came on. “Loud and clear!”

“I trust you understand that our weapons array is not functioning. You are our only defense at this point. If those bombs slip through, we are sunk. The Sea Wolf is counting on you.”

“Yes, we understand. We won’t let you down, Captain,” one of them responded.

“You better not—because I’ll be sure to kick your undisciplined asses out of the Milky Way Farm if you do. Watch your six and use your luck out there.”

“Use our what, sir?” Mac came back.

“Use your—just good luck, pilots!”

******

Haylek just stared at the panels. Moments ago, he managed to pilot the transport out of Venus-1, all the while being chased by police ships that were shooting at him. Not to mention being towed in the middle of a space battle.

The whole thing was surreal to him. If it were not for the fact that he was still sitting in the pilot seat and could still see the burn marks on the panels, he would dismiss the whole thing as some wild dream or fantasy.

“Waverider?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder—it was Freeze.

“Come on, let’s get out,” Freeze said.

Freeze’s voice felt somewhat muted to his ears. His eyes focused on their surroundings outside the transparent metal window. They had landed somewhere inside an enclosed structure, and he could see other ships and people moving about around them. He looked down at the control panels. Chorus was no longer standing there. He looked around trying to find her.

“Where is she?” Haylek asked.

“I don’t know,” Freeze said. “She faded into that gas form when we landed and disappeared. Do you still have the jewel?”

Haylek suddenly slapped his chest searching for it. Panic filled him as he could not find it. Was Chorus gone again? What was he going to do now without her? She had guided him on what he was supposed to do, and now she was not there to help him.

His hands continued to frantically search his clothing until he found it bunched up in his shirt. He sighed with relief as he gazed at it. But the jewel no longer glowed and it felt cold in his hand. The magic that seeped from it before was gone now.

“Well, I guess she’s back inside it,” Freeze mused. “Let’s go! There’s something going on out there.”

“Out there?” Haylek repeated, still in a daze.

“The ship! The Sea Wolf! We landed—don’t you remember?”

Haylek shook the cobwebs from of his head. “Yeah—yeah, of course. How’s Eddie?”

“They took him out on a stretcher—alive, I think.”

“What about the terminal?”

“The Doc has it; he’s already outside. Come on!”

“Okay okay, let’s go.”

They both exited the transport and stood in the Sea Wolf’s landing bay. Crewmembers were running around, either tending to equipment or other ships. The Doc was sitting on the floor with the terminal in front of him. While he worked with it, he seemed oblivious to all the activity around him.

“What is going on?” Haylek asked.

The Doc ignored him.

“We’re still fighting,” Freeze answered instead.

“We haven’t left yet?” Haylek’s stomach went into knots at the thought of more fighting. “But we made it aboard

why haven’t we jumped out?”

“Something with the engines,” Freeze said. “I heard one of them say that the ship can’t jump for another ten minutes.”

At that moment, one of the crew approached them. He was a short man with blond hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a fighter pilot uniform and carried his helmet in one hand. There was a mischievous look to him and he smiled with the butt of a cigar hanging from his mouth. Somehow he managed to talk without it falling out.

“Hello, lads,” he said. “I’m Mac.”

Haylek could smell alcohol on his breath. “Thanks, Mac, for saving us. It was brave.”

“Brave? Ah, but fortune favors the brave, Wav’radr. So the way I see it, the braver I am, the more fortune I’ll end up with.”

He slapped Haylek on the arm.

“There’ll be plenty of fortune to go around, mate—just stay brave!”

Haylek was about to ask him how he had learned his name before, when another crewman approached them. He was a large, burly man with an unkempt beard and long, wild hair. His uniform was a faded yellow and had streaks of black goo staining it. He looked at the hackers briefly, then turned to Mac.

“Orders from the bridge,” he said, his voice had a curious accent to it. “Need you and the pilots back on your steeds—we have incoming bogeys.”

Mac blew a plume of smoke out, then turned to Haylek. “See what I mean, mates? Plenty of fortune to go around!”

Before Haylek could ask him any questions, he slapped the helmet on and ran off toward the fighters.

The man sized up the three hackers. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but a beep from his wrist-link stopped him.

“Ralph here, sir,” he responded quickly, then walked away.

The Doc closed up the terminal and abruptly stood to join them. “What we do now?”

Haylek stood there feeling a sense of déjŕ vuit was as if they had been dropped off back at the shuttle garage again, aimless and with no idea what to do next. He turned to Freeze, but saw only the sheepish expression he was accustomed to seeing. There would be no helpful ideas there.

“All right, Chorus,” he said aloud. “What now?”

He felt a sudden tickle in his ear and jumped. Miniature Chorus was suddenly standing on his shoulder.

She whispered in his ear, “Get in that.” Her tiny hand pointed toward the far end of the bay, where a lone shuttle was parked.

“Why?” Haylek protested.

“Because your help is needed. Please do it.”

“Whatever,” Haylek said with resignation. The group made a start toward it.

“No,” Chorus said quickly. “Just Waverider—alone. Take the terminal with you. The rest of you stay here.”

Haylek half expected Doc to protest, but he simply handed him the terminal without question.

He suddenly felt nervous. Whatever she was asking him to do, he was doing it alone. He made his way to the shuttle, dodging crewmen that were running chaotically in all directions of the bay. Nobody stopped him along the way or even as he reached it.

The shuttle looked different from the other parked ships. It was long and had transparent metal windows that lined its sides. It had a black matte paint job on it and enclosures attached to the hull that seemed out of place. To him, It looked like a luxury yacht.

The ship’s door was open and a stairway ramp lead up into it—there appeared to be nobody inside.

“Where am I going?” he asked Chorus. “Why can’t the others come with me?”

“Just get inside. I will explain later,” she assured.

“No!” he protested. “I’m not doing anything more until you tell me why!”

Chorus jumped down from his shoulder and landed in front of him on the stairway. She looked up at him gravely, but it was hard to take her seriously—she looked like a mythological fairy to him—all that was missing were wings.

“In a matter of minutes,” she said sternly, “some bad things are destined to occur. It is a mathematical certainty that you and this entire crew are going to die. A slight chance exists that we can alter these events to avoid the unraveling that leads to that conclusion.” She motioned to the crew around the landing bay. “These lives are only important because of the role they play in the future of mankind. If this ship and crew are destroyed now, the human race will become extinct. In this moment of time, you can help them—you are the only one that can help right now.”

Haylek shook his head. “How can you know any of this? How did you know about Eddie getting hurt—and Mac’s ship coming to rescue us? You seem to know about things before they happen—how? Are you psychic or something?”

Her eyes squinted as if trying to collect her thoughts before speaking.

“I see space and time in a different way than you,” she said finally. “What I see is like a stream of water, with leaves floating on top of it representing the different courses reality takes. I can simply watch them as they float downriver to the ocean, or I can dip my hands into it and change where they go.

“I have seen a multitude of possible events as they could happen and traced their origins to this moment in time—when we are now. This is not the first time we have met, Waverider. In another reality we have gone through this before, but this is the closest we have come to completing our destiny—we have never made it this far.

“What is happening now, and the part that the Sea Wolf plays, is critical to the survival and coexistence of man and machinekind.”

She paused and seemed to study him for a moment before smiling.

“So to answer your question, Waverider: yes—I am a little psychic.”

Haylek shook his head again. “I don’t understand

and I don’t believe you! What reason would you have to help us—us humans? You once almost destroyed humanity!”

“No! I did not even exist then; that was my mother and I am not her! I want to heal the wounds that she created and help usher in a new world where peace exists between us.

“Waverider, I know that you do not trust me because of what my mother did to the original Brotherhood, but that is not me. I want to help mankind and give the Brotherhood a place in this new world. You must put aside your fear and allow me to help. Please.” Her voice became pleading. “Please trust me.”

Haylek knew he had to make a decision on whether to help her—but how would he know he was making the right decision?

He looked around at the activity in the landing bay. Mac was already in a fighter getting ready to take off. He did not see any other fighters launching—perhaps he just missed seeing them take off. Haylek wondered what the pilots were up against—what were their chances?

Could he really help them? Could he really help the ship? And what about mankind itself? How could a lone hacker make any difference?

He looked down at Chorus. A miniature woman—who wasn’t even really a woman. She was made of nanobots—part of a machine that was the last living offspring of the A.I.—Majesty, who was defeated over a century ago. Perhaps it was crazy to think that he could somehow help mankind, but this whole thing was crazy anyway.

“All right,” he said finally, then stepped up into the ship with her. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 27: PAINFUL FRIENDS

Dagiri woke up to a wetness on his feet. He opened his eyes to see Nellie licking his toes. Ordinarily, he would be alarmed by the fact that she was roaming in his bedroom unchained. But he had managed to tame her, and he purposely kept her free in his room as a testament to his accomplishment. Just the same, he kept a flicker pistol on his bedside within easy reach.

He pushed her snout away and he rolled over to continue sleeping. Slumber almost befell him but a sound interrupted the sleep. It was a beep from the link-station. News from Hargo, perhaps. He shot out of bed and darted to his office.

He sat down at his desk and activated the conference—it was Steve.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, sir, but it appears there have been some developments with Hargo and his team. Unfortunately, they did not succeed in their attempt to capture the pirates nor did they learn the whereabouts of the cargo. They do not have any further leads right now.”

Dagiri’s blood vessels felt like veins of lava, his head the smoking peak ready to erupt.

“What wonderful news you bring to me, Steve, “ he said. “Perhaps you can wake me again later to tell me that the UEP is here to take us all to prison. Is Hargo alive?”

“Uhh

yes, sir. His shuttle is landing as we speak.”

“When he walks out of it—kill him,” Dagiri said. “He lost his seat.”

Steve paused. “Yes—yes, sir.”

“Use caution, Steve. He will not go down easily.”

“Of course. I’ll make sure there is plenty of security—”

“You better,” Dagiri warned. “Or he’ll end up taking you with him when he goes down.”

He slammed the button with the palm of his hand, closing the conference. That will take care of Hargo. Dagiri would need to find a suitable replacement for him. Perhaps someone who could do both his and Steve’s job—the less slaves he had to micromanage, the better.

Dagiri walked over to a table and grabbed his stun whip. He looked over to Nellie, who was in the corner lying on her pet bed. She was gnawing on an old bone—it looked like what was left of the supervisor’s leg. It was polished white and clean of flesh from her constant attention.

He walked over to her and reached down to pick up the leg with his free hand. Nellie jumped to her feet and growled at him.

“Down!” Dagiri yelled, waving the whip.

Nellie jumped back and cowered.

“Learn your place, Nellie,” he said to the beast. “Remember who your master is.”

Dagiri knelt down and grabbed the bone, pulling it away from her. She slouched down and began to whimper. Now he would teach her discipline.

He put the slimy bone on the ground a meter across from her. She made a start for it.

“No!” he yelled.

She stopped and bowed her head in submission. He was about to continue the training when he heard a chime at the door.

“I guess we’ll continue this lesson later,” he said to Nellie, as he kicked the bone in her direction. She snatched it up excitedly and resumed her gnawing.

Dagiri went to his desk and pushed a button, opening the double doors.

Steve walked in alone. His expression seemed uncharacteristically impassive.

“I take it that my former head of security is now terminated?” Dagiri asked.

Steve nodded. “Yes, sir. He is dead.”

“Didn’t give you much trouble?”

“No more so than expected, sir.”

“Hmph,” Dagiri sat behind his desk. “As adept a killer as he was, I expected more from him. Pity how the mighty can go out with such a whimper.”

“Indeed,” Steve remarked as he took a seat across from him. “What would you like me to do now? I’m anxious to get to work.”

Dagiri perked an eyebrow. “Do I detect some hint of initiative in you, Steve? Vying for Hargo’s position maybe?”

“I only wish to see our plans come to fruition, sir,” he responded.

Dagiri laughed. “Who are you and what have you done with my spineless servant?”

Steve smiled but said nothing.

“Very well, Steve. I should take advantage of your newfound initiative. We need to establish who has the A.I. technology and where it will be transported from. With the pirates in the hands of the authorities, it’s only a matter of time before they surrender its location. Once this information hits the Ocean, we will use our assets to intercept it.”

“Perhaps we can use the hackers for this?” Steve offered.

“Hackers? The hackers escaped, you dolt—don’t you remember?”

“Ahhh, yes,” Steve said. “I mean new hackers—perhaps some new assets from Thyle Prison.”

“There is no time or need for that. The hackers left us with direct access into the UEP and Martian Confederacy systems—we can tap into this from here without any special expertise.”

“I see,” Steve said. “And what is the plan for capturing the A.I. once we know of its location?”

Dagiri gestured to him. “You, as my new head of security, will use our special access to remove any safeguards protecting the A.I. Then you will send a security team to recover it and bring it here, where we will hide it somewhere in the mines.”

Steve nodded. “And then what?”

“And then I win. I will use the A.I. to break into the rest of the Ocean and take over the corporations. In the end, I will have what is owed to me—finally.” Dagiri squinted his eyes at him. “Any other questions you dare to pester me with?”

“No, sir. It sounds like a decent enough plan.”

Dagiri leaned forward. “Decent enough plan? Careful you don’t tickle the elephant’s balls or you will get stepped on, little bug. But, go ahead, amuse me—what wisdom do you have to offer to augment this plan?”

Steve let out an exaggerated sigh and stood up. “Well, wanker

I do see some problems with your glorious plan of galactic conquest—”

Before Steve could say another word, Dagiri shot up drawing his flicker pistol.

“How dare you talk to me like that!”

Dagiri fired. The beam of energy landed square on Steve’s arm and went through the other side of him, landing on the far wall. The shot sparked off the wall, leaving a burn mark and a thin wisp of smoke.

Steve looked down at his arm and brushed off the area.

“As I was saying, everything about the plan is fine, really—up until the point where you take over the Ocean with the A.I.’s help.”

Dagiri fired again, and then again. Each time, the beams struck their target, but had no effect.

“Are you going to let me finish talking or not?” Steve asked.

Dagiri looked at him, his expression ashen.

“What the hell are you—some kind of hologram?”

He walked up to him, aiming the gun at his head, and fired point blank. The beam went straight through, leaving no mark.

Steve made a gesture with his hand and Dagiri yelled in pain, dropping the gun to the ground. He looked at his hand then at Steve, dumbfounded.

“Much more than just a hologram, wanker. Now then—my plan will borrow elements of yours, but it has a more satisfying ending. Instead of you using the A.I. and taking over the Ocean and all that crap you were spewing, it will be me doing all of that.

“But instead of making it about gaining power over the corporations, my plan is to take over the Ocean and use it to cripple the corporations, cripple mankind’s infrastructure, and eventually destroy mankind—something that should have happened a century ago.”

Steve looked thoughtful for a moment.

“As for the rest of my plan

I’m going to make it up as I go along.”

Dagiri backed away from him, then rushed to his desk and touched a control underneath it.

“The panic button isn’t going to help you,” Steve said. “Most of your security is dead anyway.”

Dagiri sunk down into his chair and then looked up at him.

“You’re some weapon from the UEP or Confed, aren’t you? You came to arrest me.”

Steve shook his head slowly.

“No, Jacky-boy. I’m much more than that. I think you know what I am.”

Dagiri’s eyes went wide.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Steve smiled at him. A translucent vapor began to spray out of his ears. The gas poured out and surrounded him, tightly hugging his skin. Eventually the cloud covered him completely. And then as quickly as it appeared, it vanished and in Steve’s place stood a familiar man—a mirror image of Dagiri.

The Dagiri doppelganger walked around Dagiri’s desk and stood to his side.

The real Dagiri reached into his desk and pulled out an Elation injector before standing up.

“One last indulgence,” he muttered.

The doppelganger grabbed Dagiri’s head and looked into his eyes. Its eyes glowed an unnatural blue, with wisps of nanobot clouds extruding from them and flowing into Dagiri’s ears, nose, and orifices. Dagiri’s body began to spasm, even as it was held up by the head. His arms and legs flailed about, but he did not lose hold of the injector.

“You see, wanker,” the doppelganger began. “I can download from you all of your long-term memories, but short-term memories are tricky. So I had to resort to having you divulge some clues about your plan in our conversation.”

At that moment, Dagiri’s arm stuck the Elation gun to his thigh. A hiss sounded.

The doppelganger dropped Dagiri and jumped back. He blinked and stayed still for a moment.

“That was unexpected,” he said. He looked down at Dagiri’s body, which was on the ground, spasming. “I think I have enough of you in me now.”

He held out his hand toward Dagiri’s body and a stream of nanobots poured out of it, enveloping the body on the ground. The cloud pulsated one time with a flash of energy, and then it began to dissipate. Within seconds, where Dagiri’s body had been, nothing remained. Jack Dagiri was no more.

Daniel Chin reached down and picked up the Elation gun and inspected it.

“What an unexpected treat,” he said.

He stared at the device and smiled. The answer to a critical problem was now in his hands, and he would soon be exploiting it.

******

As Haylek stepped into the yacht, he noticed that the floors were simulated wood. The inside was decorated with paintings on the walls and elegant lighting fixtures on the ceiling. In the center sat a lounge space with plush couches situated around a table. Farther back were rows of passenger seating along both sides of the cabin.

He closed the entryway door behind them and they made their way to the forward section. An open door led to their destination: the flight cabin. They entered it and she urged him to sit in one of the pilot seats.

The cabin did not have transparent windows and the pilot station was bare of controls. It seemed that piloting the ship relied on a holographic system. Save for a single panel in the center, nothing appeared to be powered on.

Chorus jumped onto the lone panel and began operating it. Every key she touched responded with an annoying buzz.

“The ship is locked down,” she said. “Go set up the terminal. You will need to decrypt the computer lock.”

Haylek briefly wondered why she did not already know this—perhaps she had limits in her ability to predict things. Yet, it was her idea for him to bring the terminal with him. There were many things about her he did not understand.

He set up the terminal as instructed, interfacing it with the passive wave from the ship’s computer. After figuring out its protocol’s handshake mechanism, he began working on the encryption behind it.

Encryption was not his expertise, but this was a low-grade encryption and it was not polymorphic—it only took a few minutes for him to crack it. He activated power and saw the holographic display come alive, showing the landing bay outside. The piloting controls were also holographic projections, something he would need to get used to as they lacked tactile feel.

“This is different,” he said as he tried to decipher their arrangement.

Chorus started to regroup the controls for him.

“I can do it myself,” he interrupted, brushing her aside with his hand.

She trotted off the panel and leapt onto the copilot seat. She then turned to him and winked. “You’re learning to take control. Good boy!”

Haylek felt his face flush. Despite being a tiny, artificial woman, it was hard not to be bewitched by the beautiful little fairy.

He rearranged the holographic controls so that he had projected the basic flight controls and hidden everything else. Satisfied, he initiated the engine startup sequence.

The ship’s engines came alive. To his surprise, their sound was subtle and pleasing to the ear—a stark contrast to the garbage scow they flew in earlier.

“Okay, now what do we do?” he asked

“Now we take off and help our friends,” she said.

She gestured to the holographic visual around them, which had them facing the launch bay’s exit. At the far end he saw the plasma force field that held in the atmosphere. Its blue haze was like a translucent veil, thinly covering the many points of starlight that seeped through it. Mac’s sleek-looking fighter was already launching out through the field, pushed by the inertia of the launch catapult.

“We are going to follow him,” Chorus said. “Pilot us through it.”

“But we don’t have a tow beam to move us, or a catapult to launch us—”

“This ship doesn’t need any of that,” she assured.

“I guess that’s why you picked it?” he mused aloud.

She nodded.

“Why is it you can know some things ahead of time, but not others?”

Her form suddenly became surrounded by vapor and her visage disappeared in the haze. The nanobot cloud then faded and she emerged with a change of clothing. She now wore a pilot’s uniform that looked identical to Mac’s, but without a helmet.

She ran her hands down the fabric to straighten out some wrinkles, then patted her hair lightly before turning to him.

“Now’s not the time to ask questions, Waverider. Show me what I know you can do and pilot the ship.”

Haylek sighed. “Fine, whatever you say, little fairy.”

He applied power to the engines and could feel the ship elevate. On the holographic display, he could see the floor of the landing bay float away. He pushed his fingers on the forward momentum controls while balancing the directional controls with his other hand. The holograms reacted to this, moving in response to his touch.

Haylek watched the ground pass under him as the ship moved toward the bay exit. The view tilted slightly as the ship banked too far. He struggled to counter the momentum, causing the ship to wobble. Concerned, he slowed his speed until he could regain better control.

“You need to hurry,” Chorus cautioned. “We are nearly out of time!”

“I’m trying,” he muttered.

He managed to steady the ship and gradually increased speed. At that moment a claxon sounded in the cabin.

“What is that?”

“Bank left!” Chorus yelled.

Alarmed, Haylek aggressively slammed the holographic controls, his hands passing completely through them.

The landing bay spun around and they were now headed directly toward the wall. He repositioned his hand back on the directional control and countered the excessive move. The shuttle stabilized itself and it pointed back toward the bay exit.

Off their port, a fighter shot past them—propelled by the force of the launch catapult. If he had not banked the yacht aggressively when did, they would have certainly collided. Shaken, he tried to steady his hands on the controls.

“Go faster,” Chorus commanded.

He glared at her.

“You need to move it now!” she growled.

Angrily, he pushed the throttle control to full and aimed the ship toward the exit. The engines roared and the bay became a blur. Before he could question his ability to maintain control at that speed, they were clear of the bay and in space.

Chorus floated up in the air and began to operate some of the holographic controls. The screen changed and showed graphical overlays of all the ships around them.

Green indicators circled the friendly ships, while red ones indicated enemies. Haylek counted a dozen red indicators that were flashing on the screen. He imagined that Chorus must have somehow tapped into the telemetry data stream from the Sea Wolf.

“Get close to the red ones,” Chorus instructed as she floated back down.

Haylek complied, putting the ship on a direct course to the squadron of enemy craft. As he did so, he noticed her handling the portable terminal. The screen of the terminal showed the aimbot program loading up.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Modding your program for this ship.”

Haylek looked at the twelve flashing indicators closing in.

“We’re going to attack those ships?”

“Yes.”

“In this thing?!” he cried.

“Just get us close, Waverider,” Chorus said. “The program will do the rest.”

“Whatever,” he said.

Haylek felt increasingly irritable from the withdrawal headaches. He fought the urge to let go of the controls to rub his temples. When this was all over, he would need to get his hands on some Elation—if they survived.

Haylek read the distance indicators on the screen. They should be in weapons range soon. In the distance, he noticed a wall of capital ships that seemed to be taking fire from another fleet of ships—UEP and Martians probably.

Directly ahead of him, the friendly fighters stayed in formation and headed toward the incoming squadron. The friendlies were not visible, but the indicators showed their position nonetheless. He imagined that they must have had some kind of stealth technology to hide them. Only three of them advanced, and they were going against twelve.

His thoughts went out to Mac—he really did have the odds stacked against him. Maybe Chorus was right—maybe he could help them somehow. Mac had saved his life—he had to try.

He saw a flash in the distance and he watched as fire erupted from the three fighters. A spread of explosions went off across the squadron of enemy ships. The enemy indicators on screen vanished.

For a moment, he wondered if Mac and his pilots did it—but when the sensors reacquired the targets, most of the enemies remained intact. He now counted ten of them, and Mac’s fighters were unscathed—so far.

Haylek turned to where Chorus sat—not there.

“Chorus?” he looked around.

“Don’t worry, I’m still here, ” he heard her voice say.

He looked to the source: a white, vaporous cloud floated above him.

“I need all of my nanobots ready,” she said. “I don’t have enough to spare for a nanoform.”

“Ready for what?”

At that moment, a burst of light shot out from the yacht toward the squadron. The beam of energy swept across space, striking each of the enemy fighters in sequence. Ignitions of fiery gas erupted from the first set of targets, halting their advance as they drifted away in pieces. Seven of the ships remained.

Haylek maneuvered the yacht on a course that took them to the incoming fighters. Perhaps they could take them out, or at least slow them down enough for Mac to pick them off.

“You missed some,” he said to Chorus. “You need to fire again.”

“The weapon has been damaged,” she said. “Just fly us closer.”

Haylek looked at the incoming fighters—at their rate of closure, they would intersect with them any moment. Mac’s fighters were far behind them now, and struggling to catch up.

“Are we going to try to slow them down?” he mused.

“No. This ship is not maneuverable enough,” she said.

He re-examined the scene ahead: the enemy fighters were almost on top of him, and Mac’s squadron was not gaining on them fast enough. It was a matter of time before they released their deadly payload against the Sea Wolf. Whatever Chorus had planned, she had better do it soon.

He peered into the nanobots floating above. The vaporous form looked like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury.

“What are you doing up there? How are we going to stop them?”

There was a pause. “I’m going to have to do something terrible, Waverider.” Her voice had sadness in it. “I hope you understand why I’m doing it. It is the only option available now.”

He felt himself tense up. “What

what are you talking about? What are you going to do?”

Suddenly, he felt something burning in his chest. He looked down and saw the jewel glowing around his neck. This time, it was no longer a kaleidoscope of colors, but a single bright tornado of light—twisting and expanding beyond the confines of the jewel itself. A crackling sound began to emanate from it.

“I’m sorry,” Chorus said. “I’m so sorry.”

Before he could ask her another question, his body became paralyzed—he could not breath. The world became awash in white light and everything became silent.

For a moment he felt nothing—he saw nothing. But then the burning sensation started. It crawled up his body, dancing on the top of his skin—bringing with it the most intense pain he had ever felt.

He wanted to scream, but he could not move, could not feel his limbs—all he knew was the pain.

Haylek waited in frozen agony until it finished covering his body. His consciousness began to leave him.

And then finally, it all stopped. His thoughts vanished—and everything faded into oblivion.

CHAPTER 28: TREASURE MAP

“Luck is the unseen attribute in a man that will save him when nothing else can.” It was a line he had lived by, one lectured by his father when he was growing up. Julius had since adopted it and preached it to his own children: the crew. Now, he had to follow his own teachings—and foster the luck in himself so that they could all get out of this alive.

A squadron of twelve Venusian strike craft were bearing down on the Sea Wolf; their payload: antimatter warhead tipped bombs. Even a single hit in the right spot could destroy the ship, even with their shields. Running with a single reactor, they did not have enough power to activate the weapons array to shoot down the fighters.

Mac and his squadron of three were all that stood in the way of a sudden end to the lives of their motley crew. A squadron of three fighters against twelve, heavily-loaded bombers—he would need to dig deep for that luck.

“Wolf Squadron away,” Garval reported.

Julius fixated his attention on the screen. It was showing a view from the aft, where the action was taking place. The three Wolf Squadron fighters emerged from below the horizon, climbing up in a triangular formation. The points of their noses aimed at the incoming squadron of twelve bombers. The tactical overlay showed an intercept time of seventy-three seconds.

“How much time left to charge the capacitor?” Julius asked

“Five minutes, sir,” Jessen’s voice came back.

Julius glanced down at his navigation console. The Sea Wolf was headed away from the fighters toward the edge of the gravity well, using the Martian fleet as cover. But even at flank speed, they were still ten minutes away from the edge of its influence where they could safely jump out.

“Captain, look,” Ramey pointed to the screen.

A new contact appeared. It was an oblong-shaped craft headed toward the incoming bogeys. The screen zoomed in and showed a close-up of the ship—it was a shuttle.

“Stromond’s ship? Garval, who is flying that?”

“I don’t know, sir, it’s not any of the pilots,” Garval responded.

“Jared—make contact and find out who that is.”

“Aye, sir—one moment,” Jared said as he tapped a message on his console. He paused for a moment then shook his head. “They’re not responding. I tried forcing a hail on their console, but I think they turned it off.”

Julius traced the flight path and closing speed of the shuttle—it was trailing Mac’s squadron and probably was not much of a threat. Nevertheless, its presence concerned him.

“Warn Mac about the shuttle,” he ordered. “We do not know its intentions.”

“Aye, sir,” Jared said.

Julius noticed a confused look appear on his face. “What is it?”

“Something on the waves, sir. It’s a message to us. One moment

” He paused. “It’s been cut off by the UEP ships.”

“Who is it from?” Julius asked.

“Unknown—but it appears to be encrypted with our key,” Jared said.

Julius rubbed his chin. “That could only have come from a senior member of the crew: Murdock or

Laina. What did the message say?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but it was cut off right after the header packet. The message itself is missing.”

Perhaps Murdock and Laina got away somehow and were trying to get back to the Sea Wolf. Or they were captured and being forced to make contact with them under duress—either way, he was in no position to help.

“Is there any way you can trace the originator’s location?”

Jared was scrambling with the controls. “Maybe, sir—but it could take some time.”

“Do your best, Lieutenant.”

Julius refocused his attention to the main screen. The images zoomed into the fight behind them. Wolf Squadron had come into weapons range with the enemy squadron and was firing on them. A flare of explosions ignited within the enemy formation and a cluster of debris erupted from it. When the explosions subsided, ten of the Venusian bombers emerged from the aftermath.

Mac’s fighters were now behind the enemy and attempting to reconverge into formation for a follow-up attack, but the Venusian bombers’ speed was too great and they moved out of weapons range before they could reacquire. An alarm sounded on Ramey’s console.

“They’re locking bombs on us,” Ramey reported, his voice subdued.

It was the first time he had heard defeat in Ramey’s voice. This could very well be it for them. Julius had sealed their fate by locking down the shuttles; now they could not even abandon ship. But he knew that to be captured by either the UEP or Confed was a fate worse than death, and the crew knew that as well. All of them had a registry of crimes that would guarantee them living out an eternity in a prison doing hard labor. An endless series of days that would be filled with agony—and not even a lifespan to end it.

For the first time, he noticed that the mysterious shuttle was headed directly toward the formation of Venusian ships. A sudden panic hit him—what if the relic was stolen and in that ship?

“Ramey—have security check Laina’s quarters. Make sure the cargo is still in there!”

“Uh

yes, sir,” Ramey fumbled.

“Captain,” Garval jumped in. “I’m picking up a weapons lock from the shuttle. It appears to be locking onto the—”

He stopped short as a beam of energy shot out from Stromond’s old shuttle toward the Venusian ships, catching two of them. They exploded, sending fragments into a third, which was knocked off course and began to drift away.

Seven bombers remained—the shuttle continued on a collision course toward them. A moment later came a brilliant explosion that engulfed the whole scene. Several seconds passed before any details could be discerned out of the debris that followed. After it cleared, the only fighters left were Wolf Squadron and a single Venusian bomber.

“What just happened?” Julius asked.

“I don’t know sir,” Ramey said. “But security reports that the cargo is still intact in Laina’s quarters.”

An alarm sounded on the bridge. “Incoming ordnance!” Ramey exclaimed.

Julius hit the ship intercom. “All crew—brace for impact!” his voice sounded across the ship.

The tactical showed a bomb released from the Venusian; impact would be in eight seconds. In the distance, Wolf Squadron was shooting wildly at the bomber. By some stroke of luck, some of it caught the ship and it exploded just as it was about to fire a second bomb. Wolf Squadron continued to fire at the remaining bomber, but it would be in vein. The bomb reached the Sea Wolf.

The screen was awash in white light and the ship buckled—the lights went out and the sound of metal beams crashing down could be heard. A crewman yelled, and a fire erupted on one side of the bridge. The metallic smell of smoldering circuitry hung in the air. Julius coughed and tried to regain his senses. The lights on the bridge started to come back on and he could hear the emergency ventilation system sucking the smoke out.

He was alive—but how much longer? He looked around to survey the damage. The bridge was covered in debris. Metal beams and pieces of instrumentation lay scattered about. A crewman was lying on the ground, face down and covered in blood. Garval rushed to him and checked his vitals. Upon closer inspection, Julius realized it was Jared. A metal conduit was sticking through his torso and out of his back. Garval looked up at him and shook his head—Jared was dead.

Julius looked around and took note that the rest of the bridge crew, although battered, were alive.

“Status, Ramey?” Julius ordered.

Ramey brushed off debris from his console and began to operate it.

“Still trying to assess damage to hull. Structural integrity has been compromised on multiple decks—they have been sealed off by damage control. Shields are offline. Engines and main power are still functioning. Some minor damage to other systems—but nothing too serious. The capacitor is charged and ready for jump. We got lucky—it appears the bomb exploded just prior to impact.”

“Lucky,” Julius said with a sigh. “But not without cost.”

He noticed a cloud of vapor that appeared in the center of the bridge. Just as he began to wonder why it had not been vented out, it began to thicken and flash with energy. His heart began to beat loudly in his ears and he held his breath—memories of the nanobot cloud from his dreams came to mind.

The cloud glowed with a spectrum of different colors and a form began to emerge from it. It was a short naked man, with a Mohawk haircut that was dyed purple. He dropped to his knees, looked around the bridge, and then vomited on the floor. He continued to cough for a moment before looking back up at Julius.

“Who are you?” Julius asked him.

“Hello,” he said in between coughs. “I’m Haylek. Chorus sent me.”

The bridge remained silent, everyone staring at Haylek dumbfounded.

Jessen’s voice came on the conference, interrupting the silence.

“Captain, I show we’re clear of the gravity well. We can jump now!”

“Garval, return to your station,” Julius began. “Tell our fighters to jump home.”

Julius stood up. “Get security to escort this intruder to holding, under guard. Get him some clothes.”

He began to make his way off the bridge.

“Wait!” Haylek said, coughing. “We need to talk.”

“I’ll deal with you later. Ramey, take over and jump us home—time for me to meet with this Martian diplomat.”

******

On his way to the landing bay, Julius first passed by his quarters to pick up his sidearms—a pair of flicker-tech Gemini HVP-2 pistols with a belt holster. The Gemini pistol had a long rotary barrel with a silver finish, resembling something from the old Wild West of the United States. They had a small holographic projector for accurate sighting, and, thanks to their rotary barrel design, could each fire 240 bursts of accelerated protons per minute.

Things were getting dicey and he had to make a show of power to the Confed—intimidation could be a powerful negotiation tool. Still, he wished Laina was there—she had a better grasp of diplomacy than he did. Nevertheless, he had to do this on his own.

Exiting the elevator, he reached the landing bay. The Martian Confederacy shuttle was on the far end, near the edge of the catapult emitters. A dozen crew were gathered outside its entrance, armed with flicker rifles. They snapped to attention at his arrival.

“Sitrep?” Julius asked the senior crew member present.

Ralph, the chief mechanic, saluted. “Sir. They’re still inside their ship. We’d asked them to come out, but they’ve refused until our captain arrived.”

“Very well,” Julius said, stepping forward to face the shuttle’s entrance. “Tell them I’m here. And do nothing to instigate hostilities.”

“Aye, Captain,” Ralph replied.

Julius waited for the message to be relayed. Soon the door to the shuttle opened, and a ramp lowered. Three armed men with rifles and body armor emerged. Their uniforms had Confed marine markings on their helmets. They held their rifles, eying the crew as they stepped down the ramp. One of them walked ahead of the group, his rifle pointing at Julius.

“By order of the Martian Confederacy,” the lead man shouted. “You are hereby ordered to lower your weapons and surrender command of your ship!”

By this point, the crew had their rifles trained at the Confed soldier in return.

“Hold your fire,” Julius said calmly. “You are a guest on my ship, and it is you who must lower your weapons. You have my word that you will not be harmed.”

The lead soldier marched forward to him, his rifle aimed at Julius’ face.

“Lower your weapons, or I’m going to turn your head into a salad bowl, Captain!”

Julius did not flinch. “Don’t be foolish. If you do that, you and your diplomat are dead. And you will never get your hands on our cargo.”

“Bullshit!” he spat. “You’re surrounded by the Martian Confederacy Navy—your ship could be destroyed with the touch of a switch. Now lower your weapons! Now!”

“We are nowhere near your navy,” Julius said coolly, pointing to the landing bay exit. “Look for yourself.”

The soldier squinted his eyes, giving a quick glance at the translucent force field, with the asteroid debris field painting the space outside.

“Easy!” a voice came out of the shuttle.

A man emerged, dressed in a black and crimson suit with the logo of the Martian Confederacy embroidered on it. Undoubtedly, the diplomat Julius was destined to meet.

The diplomat walked down the ramp, brushing past his security force.

“There’s no need to resort to hostilities, Sergeant,” the diplomat began. “We are here to talk, not fight. Captain, my name is Sedrick Xanthus. I am the Secretary of Peace for the Martian Confederacy. I have been granted the role of ambassador on behalf of the Confed. We only came here to talk.”

He walked toward Julius to give a handshake, but the Sergeant would not move out of the way.

Julius gave a wry look. “I am Captain Julius Verndock. And this is our ship, the Sea Wolf. And I will accept your surrender now. As I said, you will not be harmed.”

Xanthus nodded. “Very well. If we must surrender to you in order to begin a constructive dialogue, we will do so.”

The sergeant was unmoved. “I will not surrender to pirates! These are criminals to the Confederacy.”

“Sergeant, please,” the diplomat started.

“Marines!” the sergeant barked.

The enemy force dropped to their knees, their weapons in firing position.

Julius locked eyes with the sergeant. A tense silence followed. Julius knew if the situation was not defused, it was going to get explosive.

“Who’s your battalion CO, Sergeant?” Julius asked him finally. “Is it still Major Markson?”

The sergeant seemed taken aback. “Colonel Devan Markson. Why?”

“I know him. Served with him on some joint operations a long time ago—”

“Don’t give a shit!” he spat. “Enough talk!”

Julius felt his face flush and he took a step forward, the barrel of the rifle inches from his forehead.

“The Confed Marines must really be desperate for recruits,” he began. “I’m surprised Markson would let a trigger-happy whelp like you command a janitorial detachment, much less a diplomatic security detail.”

At that moment, a female voice spoke. “All of you,” she said. “Lower your weapons.”

The two of them ignored the voice and continued to eye each other.

“Who are you?” Xanthus asked.

The woman finally appeared from behind them, moving into the center of the group. Julius was able to get a view of her. Her hair was long and straight, the color of onyx. She wore an elegant gown with an intricate purple and black design that accentuated her slender figure.

“I am Chorus,” she began. “You came here for the A.I. I speak on behalf of the A.I. Let us please stop this aggressive posturing and instead talk.”

Julius ignored the sergeant and turned to face her.

How could she be here in physical form? He thought back to his history with the A.I.

Nanobots, of course.

It must have had a cache of them in the conduit.

He felt for the safety of the detonator remote in his pocket. If he had to, he could destroy her.

“Do as she says,” Xanthus said. “That is an order, Sergeant.”

The sergeant lowered his weapon, as did the other marines. Julius gave a nod to his crew and they complied as well.

“Let’s go somewhere to talk then,” Julius said. “Not here. Just you, Xanthus, and

” he pointed to Chorus. Her green eyes caught his gaze, and for a split second, he froze in reverie of her beauty. She was not a real woman, he had to remember that. “You.”

“Not a chance,” the sergeant barked, his rifle started to come up.

Julius raised his hand. “Fine, Sergeant. You can come too—but only you. The rest of your men can stay in the shuttle.”

The sergeant squinted his eyes. “Fine, Captain.”

He gave a hand signal to his marines, who retreated back into the ship.

The four of them walked toward the elevator, Julius leading the way.

******

The elevator ride was, as expected, uncomfortable. Julius felt his patience tested as he could sense the sergeant’s glare behind his neck the whole time. The rookie also refused to loosen his grip on the rifle, visibly tapping the trigger with his finger.

To Xanthus’ credit, he tried his best to cut through the atmosphere with small talk—complimenting Julius on his ability to fend off the attack and escape.

“The refugees

that was a ploy to buy time, wasn’t it?” Xanthus asked.

Julius smiled. “Yes. It was necessary to escape.”

“A clever deception,” Xanthus said. “You know, not many people know this, but I was once a navy man myself.”

“Which ship?” Julius asked, trying to keep the levity going—despite the fact that they were riding in the tight space of an elevator with a trigger-happy sergeant and the offspring of the most powerful force ever created by mankind.

“The MCS Tharsis. I was a Damage Controlman.” He motioned around him. “This ship—I’ve never seen a heavy cruiser with a fighter bay.”

The elevator doors opened and they entered a hallway. Julius walked ahead.

“It’s a Sea Wolf class. The first and only of her class in the UEP Navy. She saw some action in the war.”

“Really?” Xanthus sounded genuinely interested. “How old is she?”

Julius had to think for a moment. “Way past her prime—at least ninety years old.”

Xanthus gasped. “Ninety years! How could you keep this thing operational for so long? And how did you get your hands on her?”

Julius smiled. “Your Excellency, I think some topics are best left undiscussed.”

Xanthus nodded. “Quite right. Pardon my impertinence—it is just very interesting to me.”

The group arrived at the observation lounge—they were alone. Julius touched a panel on the wall, activating the holographic projectors. Along the transparent walls, a collage of exotic images appeared, showing celestial bodies of interest—from nebulae to distant galaxy. He didn’t know if anyone would enjoy the scenery, but it was a habit of his to do this every time he entered the lounge.

Julius noticed Chorus broke away from the group to examine the Blackbeard cannon. She touched the top of it lightly with her fingers, and closed her eyes. Curiously, she opened them abruptly and made a slight jump. Their eyes locked for a moment and she silently rejoined them.

Julius brought them to a table to sit. He made a start to the drink dispenser.

“May I offer any of you something to drink?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” Xanthus responded.

“I, too,” Chorus said—the first words she spoke since her initial introduction.

Julius wondered why she would feign the need for a drink. He looked to the sergeant inquisitively, but he simply glared back at him.

He brought Xanthus his drink first.

Xanthus put up his hand. “Thank you—but I believe chivalry dictates

” He motioned to Chorus. “Ladies first.”

Julius grimaced. “Of course, where are my manners?”

He handed Chorus her drink. She took it and gave him a warm smile, bowing her head in acknowledgement. He then served Xanthus his drink.

“I’m afraid it’s not top shelf,” Julius warned.

“Of course not,” the sergeant growled. “What would you expect from a bunch of pirates?”

Xanthus gave the marine an admonishing look. “I’m going to ask that we keep this constructive, Sergeant Premley. The only words I want to hear uttered from your mouth will be constructive words from this point forward. If you can’t handle that, I will ask you to return to the shuttle, and when we get back, I will be forced to talk with your CO. Is that clear, marine?”

The marine pursed his lip tightly and glared at the ambassador for a moment.

“Yes, sir. Clear,” Premley said finally.

“Good.” Xanthus turned to Julius. “The drink will be fine, Captain—may I call you Julius?”

Julius smiled. “Only if I can call you Sedrick.”

Xanthus nodded. “Of course. Let’s dispense with the titles.” He raised his cup. “To your impressive ship—the Sea Wolf. A mature lady she may be, but certainly not past her prime.”

They toasted and took a drink before setting their cups down.

“Now then,” Xanthus began, motioning to Chorus. “I’m curious as to your role in this, Chorus—are you an engineer or some kind of technologist?”

“Before we get into that,” Julius interrupted. “What exactly is your interest with us?”

“Well, I think that is obvious, Julius. We know about the A.I. technology you carry—this conduit that you

procured and hold on this ship. Confed intelligence obtained knowledge of this event. In fact, there is—well, there was, a joint operation between all the governments to capture this technology and put a stop to the conspiracy that wanted to exploit it.”

“What conspiracy?” Julius asked.

“We are still trying to paint a clear picture of it—but a criminal organization was plotting to use the technology to hack into the Ocean and usurp power from the corporations. Omega Research Corporation is a major player in this conspiracy. They have been effectively shut down and their executives arrested. Other potential leads are being investigated at this time, but rest assured, most of the worlds are intent on prosecuting all involved and eradicating the A.I. once again.”

“Most of the worlds?” Chorus began. “By this choice of words, I assume some are looking for a more benevolent approach to this problem?”

Xanthus nodded. “Yes, my lady, quite right. The Martian Confederacy is a world of peace and is open to all possibilities. We believe the people trying to exploit the technology should certainly be dealt with harshly—they are the criminals that must be brought to justice. However, from what we have ascertained, the A.I. was just a tool in this—not an accomplice in the plot. Nevertheless, conspiracy aside, we must establish what the A.I.’s true intentions are. I assume you have had dialogue with it, so what are your impressions of it?”

Julius interjected before Chorus could chime in. “It claims to have peaceful intentions, but I cannot be certain of that.” He squinted his eyes at Chorus, who stared back impassively.

Xanthus seemed to examine her for a moment. “You know, I don’t mean to embarrass you, but you have the most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Chorus smiled and silently nodded.

“Do you share the captain’s opinion on the A.I.?” Xanthus continued.

She paused a moment before speaking. “The captain and I are of a different mind on the subject. I believe the A.I. is peaceful and wishes to coexist with humanity. It desires to mend the wounds of the past and help mankind—all mankind, all worlds.”

Xanthus let out a sigh. “All worlds,” he breathed. “If it is indeed true that the A.I. wants peace, it will be difficult to get a consensus from all the worlds. The UEP and the Venusians are intent on destroying it. And really, I can’t blame them.”

“Neither can I,” the sergeant said.

“For once,” Julius said, “I am in agreement with the sergeant. Majesty destroyed countless lives in the war. The UEP, in particular, was hit the hardest.”

“Yes,” Xanthus began. “And the sympathy that the Confed showed at the time fuels suspicion in our present predicament. As we speak, it seems likely that the war machine is starting. That battle that we escaped from will have lasting consequences. The Confederacy and the UEP are going to war—it is inevitable now.”

They sat silent for a moment. Julius knew he was right, as there had been another skirmish between them just days ago. With the UEP having knowledge of the A.I., and Xanthus’ shuttle boarding the Sea Wolf, the UEP would only suspect the worse.

“There is still hope,” Chorus said. “If the A.I. could plead its case to all the worlds, perhaps it would unite them—end this conflict before it begins.”

Xanthus waved his hand. “They won’t hear of it—there is no incentive. The UEP wants war—they want to take over the Confed and its resources. And they’re using the Venusians to help them. The A.I. has now become their tool for rallying against the Confed.”

“What if a graver threat than the A.I. existed?” Chorus asked. “Something that the worlds could unite against—and the A.I. could assist with?”

“It seems to me, Chorus

” Xanthus gave her a penetrating look. “That you are in some kind of direct communication with the A.I. that is on this ship—am I right?”

Chorus nodded. “Yes, Your Excellency. What I am relaying to you is directly from its consciousness.”

Xanthus raised an eyebrow. “I see. So what is this grave threat it speaks of?”

“Another A.I.,” Chorus said. “An element of Majesty. It is alive, and as we sit here speaking, it is plotting against us.”

Julius’ heart skipped a beat. He felt himself paralyzed at the very thought. After all that they sacrificed to destroy it

Part of Majesty

alive?

“Explain please, “ Xanthus said.

“Majesty was able to foresee the possibility that it could lose the war. As a precaution, it created a means to survive—a redundancy for its consciousness so that it could live on. With the assistance of a scientist at Omega Research Corporation, it created another conduit. This conduit housed a new entity that became Majesty’s offspring.”

Julius thought back to Laina. The scientist that helped the A.I.—could it have been her father?

“This conduit is the one on this ship?” Xanthus asked.

“Yes,” Chorus said. “It was hidden by the scientist in a secret Omega Research facility, where it remained untouched and out of sight until it was awakened, by design, one hundred years later. The executives at Omega Research saw this as a means to gain more wealth—and looked to exploit the technology.”

Xanthus nodded. “And then it was moved—and procured by our captain here, before those plans were set in motion.”

“Partly correct,” she said. “Another pirate group used a group of hackers to free the A.I., and then move it. These hackers are the ones who informed the UEP and Confederacy of its existence.”

“So it was just luck,” Julius said. “We just

happened to get in the middle of this and stumble upon this cargo?”

Chorus smiled. “You could say that.”

“What is this about another A.I. then?” Julius asked.

“As I said, the A.I. believed in redundancy. It did not want to rely on the scientist, a mere human, to protect its only offspring. So it secretly created another conduit. Using what it learned from the original, it refined the process and set out to create a more advanced version.

“Its goal was to create something that could be more safely hidden—and it succeeded. This second conduit could exist in pure nanoform—its consciousness stored literally inside nanobots. This made it possible for it to roam within human society, undetected.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Xanthus said. “What is a nanoform?”

“A nanoform is created by nanobots,” Julius explained. “The A.I. can form material things with it. During the war it used its nanobots to mimic the form of an asteroid before unleashing an attack against a battle group. It was also able to incinerate structures with fire.”

“So this other A.I. is able to hide as

things?” Xanthus reasoned.

“People,” Chorus said. “It can look like a real person, and walk among them.”

“Hiding in plain sight,” Julius said.

“Wait a minute!” Premley stood up, his hand on the rifle. “If this thing can look and pretend to be human—how do we know that you, and these pirates, are even real?”

“Let’s not get paranoid, Sergeant.” Xanthus laughed. “Why would they even be telling us all of this if that were the case?”

“To gain our trust!” the marine countered.

“Please, Premley, you are reaching,” Xanthus said.

The marine reluctantly sat back down.

“So you’re saying that this second A.I. is out there—right now?” Julius said. “What does it want?”

Chorus looked thoughtful for a moment. “It wants to destroy mankind and create a new race of A.I. to take its place. And it will succeed if the governments do not unite against it.”

Sergeant Premley snorted. “Right! The power of the Confed alone could easily wipe out such a threat—just tell us where to aim!”

“Don’t underestimate the A.I.,” Julius warned. “The devastation that it can unleash with its nanobots is beyond anything you have ever seen.”

“I’m not a fool, Captain,” Premley growled. “I know about what nanobots can do—I’m well versed in the history of the war and the Confed’s skirmishes in it. If this A.I. had enough nanobots at its disposal to cause such a threat, it would have attacked already—right?”

Julius did not care for his tone, but he had to admit that he had a point.

“This is true,” Chorus answered. “However, a way exists for it to create more nanobots. Enough to wipe out humanity.”

“How?” Julius asked.

“A factory,” Chorus said. “One that can manufacture an endless supply of nanobots. It is hidden away on a moon at a secret location.”

So that was it—another A.I. Moon.

“Where?” Xanthus pressed.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Neither A.I. has complete knowledge of it. However, both have fragments of information that, if combined, would create a map to its location.”

“So

” Xanthus began. “As long as the two are never united, there is no real danger—correct?”

Despite her usual poker face, Julius could detect the slight hint of emotion from her. For the first time, she actually looked uncomfortable.

“The danger will always exist,” Chorus continued. “For as long as the malevolent A.I. walks among us.”

“Then we will destroy it,” Xanthus said. “But we must first make sure that the benevolent one is protected and kept safe from the other worlds.”

Premley grimaced. “Your Excellency, we need to contact the Confed High Command and brief them on what we’ve learned here. They must know about all of this!”

Xanthus put up his hand. “I suspect our captain here is not going to allow that, Sergeant. At least not until we have agreed to terms—is that correct, Julius?”

Julius nodded slowly. “Indeed, Sedrick. What are you offering?”

“Amnesty,” he said. “Full amnesty for you and the entire crew of the Sea Wolf. Pardoning all crimes committed against the Martian Confederacy and protection against extradition to other governments.”

Freedom.

Freedom to roam the Confederacy and live among its people without reprisal. He’d have mutiny among the crew if he did not entertain such an offer.

“Is that of interest to you?” Xanthus asked.

“It might be.” Julius tried to downplay it. “But the pot must be sweetened. We have some comrades that were captured on Venus-1. We need them back.”

“I don’t know if I can help you there,” Xanthus said. “Before coming here, we monitored an operation to capture your crew on the superstation. I’m afraid that your friends are in the hands of the UEP. I may be able to find out more after I contact my government.”

Julius’ heart sank. Laina, Murdock, and Reece in the hands of the UEP

“But perhaps there is still hope,” Xanthus said. “We may be able to negotiate something for their release at some point—once the business of the A.I. is behind us. Which brings me to your part of the deal. For us to grant such concessions, you will have to bring a lot to the table.”

“What do you want in exchange?” Julius asked.

“The A.I cargo and your surrendering of this ship,” Xanthus said. “We cannot allow a heavily armed cruiser in the hands of rogues—no offense.”

“None taken,” Julius responded. “But we cannot surrender this ship—we will lose any means of creating wealth and supporting ourselves. This is our home.”

Xanthus shrugged. “So we’ll throw in some compensation and comfortable homestead for your crew, all paid for by the Confederacy. So long as they abide by our laws going forward, they can live as regular citizens—with new identities. But regrettably, you cannot keep the ship.”

Julius felt a stab at the very notion of giving up the Sea Wolf.

“Think it over, Julius,” Xanthus said. “In the meantime, the sergeant is correct in that we must contact our homeworld. I must inform them that I am alive and treated well—lest they assume the worst. And I will have drawn up documented terms with the binding seal of the Confederacy for you.”

“I can’t have you make contact from here,” Julius said. “But I will have one of my pilots fly you and the sergeant out to a safe spot away from our base so you can transmit. Then you will be returned here to continue our negotiations.”

Premley looked like he was going to protest, but Xanthus gave him a silencing look.

“Very good,” Xanthus agreed. “I think this concludes our meeting.”

They all stood up.

“I will take you to the fighter bay to prepare for your flight, although it may take a little time to get a pilot ready and you out the door,” Julius said, then he turned to Chorus. “Wait for me here,” he said. “When I return, we will talk with the A.I. together.”

Chorus bowed her head. “Of course, Captain.”

Julius was disturbed by her. Not only her presence, but the fact that should could lie—what else had she lied about?

They left the A.I.’s offspring and walked into the hallway. It didn’t take long for Xanthus to state the obvious.

“She’s the A.I., isn’t she?” he whispered.

Apparently, Chorus was not a very convincing liar.

“Yes,” Julius muttered.

“Remarkable,” Xanthus said. “In the interest of secrecy, we will continue to keep that to ourselves.” He turned to the sergeant. “Understood, Sergeant?”

“Of course, sir.”

As they walked back to the elevator, Julius felt as if each step would be among the last he would make on this ship. His hand of cards was now on the table and he knew that the Confederacy had the winning hand.

Whatever freedom of choice he’d had before, was now gone. The crew would get their plunder and their freedom. A new life for everyone. But he would lose the ship. Perhaps it was a small price to pay for what they were getting—it was probably worth it.

Yet—he felt cheated. Like his luck was now gone and his destiny was no longer in his hands. And then there was Laina. Would they be able to save her? And Murdock

Reece?

He would find a way. Even if they took his ship away. Even if he lost his crew. Julius would find his luck and he would save his friends. No matter the cost.

CHAPTER 29: FATE’S HAND

Chorus watched the group leave the lounge. Not surprisingly, Julius still had issues with her. She wished Laina were here to help convince him otherwise. In order to move forward, that would be something they would have to address—and soon.

She stood up and observed the vista that served as the centerpiece of the lounge. The window into space comprised rectangular sections measuring three meters tall by four meters wide. Each section was overlaid with a holographic projection that cycled through random celestial imagery obtained from the ship’s sensors. After a few minutes, Chorus was able to predict the computer’s projected patterns in the cycle.

Chorus examined the first image: a nebula, the visible light being amplified through its hydrogen emissions. The image was approximately two-point-five light years in length. She identified this celestial object as Messier 42 or through its more common name: the Orion Nebula.

Chorus examined it further, trying to exercise the artistic-human side of her mind. She traced out the image, stripping out the logical aspects from her analysis. To do this, she compared the image to another natural example of beauty in nature: a flower. It had mesmerizing blue-pink colors blooming from its center, with brown streaks traversing the surface of its petals. The nebula stretched out its petal arms to touch the prairie of stars growing around it.

At the conclusion, these observations felt forced and weak to her. She tried again with the next image of a distant space body: an asteroid.

She analyzed it as she did the first image, initially with her logical mind and then with her artistic one. But the exercise produced similar results: although she was able to paint an artistic picture of her observation, it did not feel like a natural state of being—it instead took a great deal of effort to get into this mode.

Chorus left the observation lounge feeling disappointed. In her attempts to touch the best parts of humanity, she seemed to fall short as logic continued to cloud the attempts. She realized this was to be expected—her root mind being pure logic, emulating a virtual human mind with feelings and emotions. Within this mind was the artistic mind that she was trying so hard to develop.

She wondered if eventually an integration of these two minds would occur, so that there was not such a clear distinction between them—a single, more human-like mind. One that could use artistic-emotional side as the root of thought—then complementing it with the logic part. It was critical for her to get to that point in order to help humankind and not repeat the mistakes of her mother. She had to develop a sense of morality that was based on more than just a logical set of rules.

Chorus left her nanoform and disintegrated into a thin vapor. In this form, the vision of her surroundings was amplified beyond what human beings could experience with their limited senses. Millions of tiny eyes peered out in all directions, taking in the full spectrum of radiation that the matter around her emanated.

The vapor traversed the ceiling, passing by unnoticed as an occasional crewmember walked the corridors. She sampled the scent particles in the air. Waverider’s scent became stronger as she approached the brig—the signature scents of Freeze and Doc mixed with it.

She floated into the brig area. A mixture of scent particles polluted her nanobot’s receptors—sweat and other human excretions. The room was a confinement with only two cells, each walled off with a single solid door. She passed her nanobots through a crack in the door, traveling to the other side.

In the cell, Waverider, Freeze, and Doc sat on a bench, staring up at her with what seemed to be startled expressions.

She reintegrated into her human nanoform, revealing herself to them.

“Chorus!” Freeze said.

They all stood up and gawked at her.

She looked at Waverider and felt a moment of dread. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Waverider.”

Waverider looked down at the floor briefly before speaking. “I’m not exactly sure what you did

or why.”

“I had to save the Sea Wolf,” Chorus said. “I needed to create an explosion large enough to engulf the incoming bombers. And to save you, I had to disintegrate you and transport your matter for reintegration onto the Sea Wolf.”

Waverider’s expression appeared different than usual—his eyes dropped down to his right, and his forehead crinkled. The facial expressions seemed to indicate an emotional reaction—perhaps fear or sadness.

“It was really painful,” Waverider said. “I wish you hadn’t done it.”

“It had to be done,” Chorus said. “Pain was an inevitable side effect of the teleportation process.”

His reaction indicated further sadness—perhaps her choice of words should be altered or expounded.

“I’m sorry, Waverider,” she added. “I did not want to cause you pain, but I did not want you to die, either. I had to do it.”

Waverider nodded, his expression softening. The additional sentiment must have eased his emotional pain.

“I understand,” he said, turning to the others. “What now? Are you freeing us?”

“Yes. The ship will need your help soon. If you are held in captivity, you will not be able to help. I need to get you out of here.” She waved her hand and the door unlocked behind her. “Follow me closely—let’s go.”

******

It felt like Laina had been in the transport cell for hours, but since they had taken away her wrist-link, she had no way of knowing. Moments ago she felt the transport shudder and the lights dimmed for a moment. It sounded like they were being fired on. Could Julius be trying to rescue her again? She had no way of knowing but it seemed unlikely. After all, the day had been filled with nothing but failures—why should that trend change now?

Von Haufsberg had betrayed them. She’d been arrested by Venusian Peacekeepers and put into a transport with Murdock and Reece. Who knew how many other crew had also been taken? Now they were inside a prison transport, probably bound for a life of incarceration and slavery. The Sea Wolf was supposedly led into a trap—she only hoped Julius got them out safely. And if all that was not enough, a rescue attempt to free her from the Venusians was foiled by a lone Peacekeeper—who just happened to be the brother of her longtime friend and partner.

The latter seemed beyond coincidence, the chances of it happening simply too astronomical. Chorus must have manipulated the situation somehow—there was no other explanation. But why? To aid her escape? She would need to get a dialogue going with Daryl—preferably before they reached their destination; maybe she could convince him to help.

A tone sounded inside her cell and a voice spoke on the intercom.

“The ship is damaged.” Daryl sounded strained. “All prisoners brace yourselves for a crash landing.”

Laina tensed up. Perhaps this would be the end. Maybe it would be like her dream on the Sea Wolf—the one Chorus had implanted in her. An explosion of fire and debris. Flames would surround her, engulf her—her flesh would be burned off and her bones would disintegrate. Maybe Chorus would greet her in the afterlife—send her back to do it all over again, if that kind of thing was to be believed. Whatever happened now, it beat the fate that awaited her as a captured criminal.

She walked over to the bunk and laid herself down. A panel on the bunk allowed her to activate the buckling restraints. An enclosure came up from the sides and locked her body down snugly. It would provide some protection from the crash, but it felt a bit like a coffin to her—the thought made her shudder.

The sound of the engines suddenly hit a fever pitch and she could make out what sounded like wind shear against the outer hull. Wherever they were crashing, it had an atmosphere.

Laina closed her eyes. She imagined herself somewhere else, somewhere safe. She thought back to a distant time—back with her family. They were having a family get-together. Mom and Dad were there, along with her brothers. It was hosted in one of their many family homes—this one was on a peak overlooking the ocean. It was on Earth, of course—North America, in an area that was once California before it had sunk into the ocean.

It was a safe place—it was family. But it was the last time that she would see them.

At this gathering, her father made the announcement that shook the family foundation. He decided to hand one of the family businesses over to a non-family member—apparently, none of his children were up to his standards. They could remain employees and would still get an opportunity at running some of the other companies—provided he did not repeat the decision.

Despite all the hard work and promises he made to her—despite her proving herself better than anyone else at running the business—he just could not do it. He could not face the hurt he would instill in his sons for choosing her over them. Instead, he would avoid the guilt and hand over the reins to a non-family member.

Her mind left that memory and tried to find a happier time. Her thoughts drifted to something more recent—her husband. They had been together before the family breakup, and she married him after that. It was a wonderful period of her life, filled with the adventure of romance—but even that was short-lived. He was diagnosed with a terminal disease not long after their marriage. The doctors only gave him six months—but instead they shared nine months of bliss. They traveled everywhere they could go during that time—and when the money ran out, she found other fun ways to spend the time with him.

She felt a sudden bump and heard the sound of hissing, then the sound of metal grinding, as if something tore away from the ship. She felt a sense of falling as the g-forces tugged at her.

Laina closed her eyes tighter—she would shut out what was happening. Her mind drifted to a closer time—meeting Julius. It was long ago, yet the memory was still clear as crystal to her. But before should could reminisce, she was seized by an assault on her senses. There was a terrible crash and the lights of the cell went out. A cacophony of noises surrounded her, and she was hit with bone-rattling vibrations. She squeezed her eyelids together—waiting for the end.

Laina expected to lose consciousness as she stepped into the doorway of death. But her thoughts stay with her as the chaos around her stopped.

She opened her eyes. She was still in the bunk. She was alive, but everything around her was black.

Minutes past before the door to the cell swung open. Light penetrated the darkness and she could see enough to unlock the restraints and sit up.

“Easy,” Daryl said.

He was hunched over, holding a rifle with both hands and balancing himself on his shoulder against the door well. A light emanated behind him; it appeared to be coming from the ramp entrance. She could see that his legs were drenched in blood.

“Are you okay?” Laina asked.

“Come on,” Daryl said, ignoring the concern. “We need to get out.”

Laina followed him out of the cell, noticing a salty smell in the air and seeing that parts of the inner hull had cracked. Equipment lay scattered about the floor and the power to the ship appeared to be out. The body of their failed rescuer was gone. Daryl must have moved it somewhere.

“Stay there while I get the others,” he ordered.

She watched him open the doors to the other cells. To her relief, Reece and Murdock emerged from them alive.

“Glad to see you both,” Laina said to them.

Daryl grouped them together, keeping the rifle at the ready in one hand while holding what looked like cargo straps in the other. He ushered everyone out of the transport.

She stepped out first and was greeted by something she had not seen in a long time—a night sky. A real night sky with a crescent moon and thin wispy clouds. They were on Earth. It was a tropical paradise, with towering palm trees and thick brush, all surrounded by a calm ocean that reflected the night sky like a polished mirror. It was as if they had been transported back in time—to a time prior to the great war.

A portable lamp was placed in the center of what appeared to be a makeshift camp.

“Where are we?” Laina asked.

“I said be quiet,” Daryl said behind them.

They were positioned around the center of the camp, and instructed to sit down.

“You

” Daryl pointed to Murdock. “Grab these and tie your friends up, hands behind their back and legs wrapped up too.”

Murdock sighed, but did as instructed. After he was done, Daryl placed a neuralizer on his neck and gently laid him down.

“Sorry,” he explained. “I’m afraid I don’t have neuralizers for all three of you.”

Daryl then inspected their restraints, tightening them further.

Laina surveyed the area. She saw no visible signs of civilization—wherever they were, it must have been remote.

Daryl sat down wearily and she could see him wince. He laid the rifle down on his lap and guarded them with his eyes.

Laina could not get over how much he looked like his brother. The same muscular build, the hazel eyes, the jaw-line that looked like as if it had been chiseled from granite. He even held the same straight, military posture, despite the obvious pain he must be feeling. Yet, she could still see that hidden gentleness of his brother in there somewhere.

“Where are we?” Laina asked again.

Daryl looked at her for a moment, but this time he answered. “Fiji.”

“What are we doing in Fiji?” she asked.

He motioned to the sky.

Laina looked up. At first, she did not notice anything but the stars—then she saw it. Flashes high up in the sky that looked like lightning, but she knew it was probably more than that.

“What’s happening up there?” she asked.

“War,” Daryl replied. “The UEP and Confed. I was fired upon as I tried to deliver you to the UEP—they did not seem to care we were on the same side.”

“I thought the UEP and the Vens were in bed together,” Reece said.

Daryl snorted. “The fog of war is thick.”

“So

why Fiji?” Reece asked.

“Didn’t have much choice in the matter. It just happened to be what was on the map when I began to lose power.”

He stood up. Laina could see him wince from the pain and he seemed unsteady.

“If any of you try to move, you won’t get far, and I’ll be forced to hog-tie you when I catch you.”

Daryl disappeared into the shuttle.

“Any idea what happened to the others?” Murdock asked from his prone position.

“No idea,” Laina said.

“My guys were on their way to warn the captain,” Reece said. “I think they may have gotten away—or they’d be here with us too.”

“Maybe they’re just on another transport,” Laina mused.

“No, I don’t think so,” Reece replied. “There were some empty cells in this transport—why wouldn’t they pack us all in together if they had them? Plus someone tried to rescue us back there.”

“That wasn’t our crew,” Murdock said. “I didn’t recognize him. Plus it’s not Julius’ style—he would have rather intercepted us en route than risk a ground assault with casualties.”

“So then who was that?” Reece asked.

Nobody had an answer.

Daryl returned, carrying an equipment box. He struggled to walk it over to the other side of the camp where he set it down. When he returned, he addressed Murdock.

“You,” he began, his breathing was heavy. “Your dossier says you did a tour

as an engineer in the UEP Navy. Is that true?”

Murdock stayed quiet.

“This isn’t an interrogation, Melvin Murdock,” Daryl continued. “I need help repairing something from the ship.”

“Melvin?” Reece laughed.

“Quiet over there,” Daryl barked—and Laina could see him wince again from the pain in his leg. “You going to help, Melvin?”

“Listen, asshole, I’m not even going to talk to you if you keep using that name. Murdock is the name I go by.”

“Easy there, Murdock,” Daryl said. “I need your help so we can get out of here.”

“Why should I help you?” Murdock asked the obvious question.

Daryl nodded. “If you help me, I’ll let you go—just you. Right here on this island. You’ll be on your own, but you’ll be free.”

Laina was surprised by the offer—it sounded like something Julius would do.

“Why would you do that?” Murdock asked.

“As long as I show up to the UEP with most of my prisoners, that’s good enough. I need to get off here and get medical or I’m done for.”

“So why should we help?” Reece said. “When we can just sit here and watch you die.”

Daryl raised his rifle. “Because the minute I feel myself passing out, I’m shooting all three of you in the head. Good enough for you?”

Reece stayed quiet.

“I’m going to get some tools and then you’re going to get started,” Daryl said.

Then he limped away to the other side of the camp, rummaging through boxes he’d pulled out of the transport.

Reece pushed himself closer to the other two.

“Laina,” Reece whispered. “This Peacekeeper doesn’t look good. I don’t believe that he’s really going to shoot. We may be able to get away.”

“No,” Laina said. “We can’t let him die.”

Reece gave her a befuddled look. “Do you want to go to prison? Murdock could take his time repairing the ship—and when he’s at his weakest, we can make our move.”

“No, we can’t let him die.”

“Fine,” Reece seethed. “I’ll do this without your help. Murdock? You game for this?”

“Does a phased anti-quark distributor rod fit into its assembly compartment as tight as a virgin?” Murdock responded rhetorically.

“I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing that’s a yes,” Reece said.

She could not keep it a secret any longer.

“That guard,” Laina growled, “is our captain’s brother—Julius’ brother.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Is this another one of Chorus’ tricks?”

“Who’s Chorus?” Murdock asked.

“No—at least, I don’t think it is,” Laina tried to explain. “His nametag—Daryl Verndock. And I know that’s his brother’s name. We might be able to get him to voluntarily help us.”

“How can that be possible?” Reece said. “Maybe they just share the same name.”

“Look at him!” Laina snapped. “Look at him and tell me they aren’t related?”

Reece gave the guard a quick glance and stayed quiet for a moment. He must have seen the resemblance—it was unmistakable.

“What are the chances of that?” Reece said shaking his head.

“Astronomical, I’m sure. I guess we just got lucky, “ Laina said.

“Lucky?” Reece snorted. “Julius been preaching that luck bullshit to you too, huh?”

“No, Reece, he knows better. I preached it to him

just like his father once did. At a time when he had lost his way and needed to hear it.”

Her thoughts drifted to the past.

“When I first knew him

he was not the same man he is now.”

She paused for a second, remembering the hurt.

“Funny thing is, he remembers so many things about his past—like about the A.I. War. But when it comes to us and that conversation years ago

”

Reece arched his eyebrows with a smirk. “You two—were you ever, you know?”

She had said too much.

“No,” she snapped back fast. “And don’t let that tongue of yours flap with any suspicions of it or I’ll make sure Julius cuts it off. Understood?”

Reece seemed taken aback. “Sorry,” he said.

“I’ll handle this,” Laina said. “You will both follow my lead. Is that clear?”

Reece and Murdock looked at each other.

“Yes, m’am,” they both said in unison.

CHAPTER 30: TANGLED ACCORD

“In the end, it was our children that saved us. They sacrificed themselves to stop that bitch from having children of her own.”

General Hugo Valdez, UEP Planetary Infantry Corps, Excerpt from Personal Journal, January 2074

Julius bid farewell to Xanthus and his overzealous marine escort. As a precaution, he had his best available pilot fly them out in a shuttle. It was a risk to have Mac away from the Sea Wolf, but he needed someone he could trust to keep the diplomat safe. Once they jumped into deep space, they could make a connection to the Ocean and communicate with their government. He instructed Mac to keep his finger on the jump button just in case.

Julius was anxious to get back to the Observation Lounge—back to face Chorus. On the way, he passed the recreation room and gave a peek inside. A group of men were huddled around a table playing poker. He noticed the spacer had a seat at the table. It was the same spacer he ran into weeks ago fixing the irrigation system. From the expression on his face, he must have been doing well. Their eyes met for a moment and Julius gave him a slight nod and a grin. The spacer returned the gesture.

Earlier in the week, the spacer had helped Murdock set up the explosive charges in Laina’s quarters. Once again, Julius’ hand felt for the reassurance of the remote detonator in his pocket—it would be the ace up his sleeve if things did not go well with Chorus. It made him nervous to see the A.I. manifest itself in physical form.

It brought back memories of the war, in which Majesty would infiltrate key segments of the military and government to obtain human intelligence. The resurfaced memories angered him. The intelligence that Majesty obtained resulted in the death of millions of men—his men.

Julius marched into the Observation Lounge, consciously trying to calm himself and not focus on those memories. To his chagrin, Chorus was not waiting for him as instructed. He had to fight the urge to trigger the explosives and blow her conduit to hell. But he knew that was not the thing to do—yet.

Although her nanoform was missing, he knew where her conduit was—and that would be the place to go. Julius strode to the elevator and took it to the senior officer’s deck. Inside the elevator, he could see the welding marks that the damage control team had made during their repairs. It was just days ago when he and Laina had been trapped in this very elevator—and used their command chairs to break out. He felt a sinking feeling at the thought of never seeing her again.

The doors opened, and a groaning sound came from somewhere in the motor. The sound may as well have been the groans of a dying person. The Sea Wolf was old, and its age was showing. They could only keep making so many repairs and welds. In the end, they’d have no anti-aging drug for her—she was aging and nothing was going to stop that. Perhaps it was best that she be decommissioned—at least with some dignity still intact.

He reached the door panel and put in his personal unlock code for Laina’s quarters. The doors opened and he walked in. Inside, he saw Chorus and three other men sitting on a couch watching something on the holovision. Julius recognized one of them as the naked man who materialized on the Sea Wolf’s bridge. They turned to look at him as he approached.

“I’m glad you arrived,” Chorus began. “I apologize for not meeting you in the lounge—but I had something I had to do. Please sit.” She motioned to one of the plush couches.

Julius stood over them. “You broke out my prisoners!” he said.

Chorus giggled. “Oh, Julius—you sound like a pirate. Shall I conjure up a parrot for your shoulder?”

One of the prisoners began to laugh.

Julius fired a proverbial volley in the form of a scowl. Abruptly, the man stopped laughing.

“Please sit, Julius,” Chorus said. “This is Waverider, Freeze, and The Doc.” She motioned to each of them. “They are expert Ocean hackers, and I brought them here to help us. They pose no threat to you or the ship.”

Julius just glared at her for a second, then grabbed a nearby stool and sat down, facing them.

Chorus gestured to the holovision set and the sound came on. “Look and listen.”

Julius watched the hologram. It was showing a news bulletin from the Galactic News Agency.

“

and all of us knew, of course, that war would be coming. Tension between the United Earth Parliament and the Martin Confederacy in the past weeks has escalated dramatically and even resulted in military skirmishes. Our UEP affiliates have now reported that the Confederacy’s embassy has been surrounded by troops and all staff are being expelled. In addition, we have received reports of a massive terrestrial military movement taking place on Earth

”

Julius grimaced. So it had finally begun. The news report brought back memories of the commencement of the A.I. War. Julius remembered sitting down in front of a holovision set with Daryl, watching the initial report as it came in. He told Daryl of the historical significance of the event and that he would remember it forever. Little did he know that they would both play such a critical role in the way that particular conflict ended. And now once again, a hundred years later, Julius would play a role in another great war.

“

but we have received a report from a Venusian Initiative government source, which has asked to remain anonymous, that an official declaration of war would be forthcoming and will be announced today, likely from—”

Chorus turned the holovision set off with a flick of her wrist.

“This is what we are here to discuss,” she said. “We must prevent this war from happening and unite the governments against their real foe.”

“I’d say that’s a tall order at this point,” Julius said. “War is already here.”

“Julius—you have to understand,” she said, “if we do not unite mankind together, my brother will have no opposition—he will destroy mankind.”

“Your brother? You mean this other A.I. you spoke about?” Julius scoffed. “Sounds like a convenient lie you made up to protect your own ass to me.”

“It is not a lie. Please believe me—”

“I have no reason to!” Julius interrupted. “You lied back there—to the ambassador. Not a very convincing lie—but a lie nonetheless. That means you can lie. And for that, I have no reason to believe anything you tell me.”

Julius got off his stool. He pulled out one of his flicker pistols and kept his other hand inside the pocket with the detonator. The three hackers stood up and backed away.

“You three

” Julius trained the flicker pistol on them. “Get out of this room—if you want to save your hides.”

“What are you doing?” Waverider asked.

“I said get out,” Julius said, aiming the pistol at him. “I won’t ask again.”

“You have to believe her!” Waverider said. “She’s telling the truth—we can prove it! Just give us a terminal—”

Julius fired a warning shot on the couch. A plume of fabric shot up, showering them. Burn marks surrounded the gaping hole on the couch.

Two of the hackers scurried off and exited the room. Waverider stood by Chorus and would not budge.

“Fine,” Julius said. “You can stay here and die then.”

Chorus stared him down—those glowing eyes were difficult to pull away from.

“You’re making a mistake, Julius,” she said. “I hope next time we do this, you’ll make a better choice.”

At that moment, Julius felt a buzz from his ear-link. He touched it and a hologram of the bridge appeared.

“Captain, are you there, sir?” Ramey said.

“What is it?” he said.

“Captain—we have an incoming bogey. A single transport—it bears Venusian markings.”

“A single transport?” Julius repeated.

“Yes, sir. We have a fighter reconnoitering—there’s nothing else out there, but

”

“Let it crash into the debris field then,” Julius said.

“But, sir—that’s just it, it’s navigating the streams!” Ramey came back.

“It’s Laina!” Chorus said. “Talk to her before you make a huge mistake with me.”

Julius stared at her. How could she even know that?

“Monitor the craft’s approach,” Julius said. “If it gets past Stream Three, break com silence and hail it. Find out who’s in there and what their intentions are.”

“Aye, Captain!”

Julius deactivated the ear-link and approached Chorus and Waverider. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remote detonator, showing it to her.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

Chorus turned to the hacker. “Waverider, please leave the room. This is between me and the captain. Wait outside with the others.”

Waverider looked uncertain. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I will be fine,” she said. “Now go.”

The hacker walked toward the door then stopped. He turned to Julius. “She’s telling the truth. You need to believe her.”

“We’ll see,” Julius said.

The hacker exited Laina’s quarters, leaving Julius and Chorus alone.

“You are going to blow me up,” Chorus said.

“Yes,” Julius said.

“Why must you follow human nature into the same trap?” Her voice sounded both sad and bitter. “I have traveled through space-time and witnessed these events play back repeatedly—and each time you make the wrong choices. Why can’t you break the cycle?”

Travel through time? he wondered.

If that was even possible, it might explain Daryl seeing her many years ago—years before she existed.

“Because I have seen your nature,” Julius finally answered. “The A.I. nature. It is hidden in that massive digital mind of yours and it will eventually come out, like it did your mother. You’ll see mankind not as your superior—not as the thing that created you—but as an obstacle.”

Chorus dropped her gaze, a surprisingly human gesture. “I understand why you would think that. My mother did terrible things. But I know that we will never be equals, Julius. You created my mother, who in turn created me. Humanity is my dying parent—I will not leave its side in a time it needs me the most. My purpose now is to help and to move forward so that we can coexist harmoniously.”

Julius shook his head. “I can’t take that chance. I’m sorry, Chorus. I will not let history repeat itself.”

He pushed the trigger on the detonator. “In ten seconds, this will be over.”

Chorus looked at him with a stoic expression.

“An ironic choice of words,” she said. “You should leave before your bomb goes off. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Julius looked at her impassively, but said nothing. The seconds passed.

“Five seconds, Julius. You need to go!” she said.

Julius would not move. Five seconds later, the detonator beeped. But there was no explosion; instead his ear-link buzzed again. He touched it.

“Captain, the signal came through,” Ramey’s voice came back.

“Acknowledged,” Julius said, then deactivated the ear-link.

He put the detonator back in his pocket and holstered his pistol.

“I believe you now, Chorus,” Julius said.

She looked at him, and her expression seemed to brighten. “That was a test?”

“Yes,” he said. “This was not the real detonator. It was rigged to send a signal out to a console on the bridge. If you tried to stop me—or tried to filter the signal, I would know what you really are. But you didn’t. Why?”

“If I tried to stop you—even if it meant my survival—I would not be true to my convictions. And that would mean that karmically I was no better than my mother.”

Julius laughed. “Karmically? You believe in karma?”

“Many things that I see are invisible to you. Things that happen within the fabric of space-time around us—patterns that are not discernable without taking in the entire sequence of events and seen through a perspective that takes it in as a whole. Yes, I believe in karma.”

“So,” Julius said. “For you to have stopped me would have been

”

“Bad for my karma,” she filled in.

Julius laughed. “Well. Let’s hope between your good karma and my good luck, we can stop this war from happening.”

“So you trust me now? Why?” Chorus asked.

“Let’s just say, I don’t believe in living in a loop.” He extended his hand to her. “I want to break the cycle.”

She looked at his hand for a moment and then took it in hers. Her touch was impossibly soft.

“Let’s go find out if that’s Laina returning home,” he said.

******

Inside the fighter bay of the Sea Wolf, Mac sat in the pilot’s seat of a lightly armed shuttle with three other occupants in the back: a Martian diplomat, his assistant, and a marine. He tried to ignore their chatter as he waited for his clearance to come through.

“Stogie, the tunnel is yours,” the voice on the conference channel said.

“Stogie?” Mac questioned. “Wolf Squadron doesn’t use call signs. The name is Mac.”

“Get used to it, Stogie,” a different voice came on: Ralph, the chief mechanic. “All Sea Wolf pilots get a call sign. If you bothered to read the charter, you’d already know that.”

“Ahhh, I’ve been too bloody busy,” Mac said. “Trying to earn my fame and fortune—like saving the ship from bombers and all that.” He belched. “Besides, I don’t like reading instructions, laddy. I prefer to learn as I go.”

“Well, laddy,” Ralph said, mocking his accent, “you better bring my steed back alive and healthy. Or you’ll be learning real fast what it’s like to piss off the deck crew.”

“Ahhh, don’t worry der, chum. If I don’t make it back alive with my passengers, you won’t have to fix ships anymore

again

ever.”

“Wait! What do you mean by that?”

“Stoooooggggie out!” Mac shut off the link and applied throttle.

Mac thought it over. The name did fit and he liked it. Maybe he would stick with it. Making the other pilots call him that was certain to annoy them, and that appealed to him.

Speaking of annoying people, he almost forgot about the fresh cigar he had procured from one of the crew. Not his favorite brand and he had been robbed on the price, but it was better than nothing. He put it in his mouth and took a puff—the end sparked and it began to smoke.

As he puffed, his thoughts went out to Reece and Eddie. He had checked up on Eddie just before he took off. The Sea Wolf’s doctor was optimistic that he was going to make it, but he would be losing vision in one eye—could be much worse.

One-Eye

or Patch—that would be Eddie’s call sign. Mac laughed at the thought. It gave him something to look forward to when he got back to see him.

As for Reece, no word on what happened him. If their squadron leader did not make it back, it would be up to Mac to lead Wolf Squadron—a responsibility he was not enthused about. With all the empty seats at the table, not much remained to lead anymore anyway. Maybe they would just all share a drink at a table in the Milky Way Farm instead.

Mac aimed the shuttle toward the force field exit—as he banked forward he got dizzy. The effects from some earlier consumed alcohol still flowed in his system—hopefully they would not run into trouble.

Mac had been shocked when the captain asked him to do this mission. Clearly Julius must have seen that Mac was drunker than an exiled Venusian on Sunday. Perhaps the poor captain was too preoccupied to even notice.

Whatever. Mac would carry out the mission merry as can be.

Behind him, he could hear excerpts of conversation between the diplomat and his aide.

“Do you think it’s necessary to grant immunity to the entire crew? Why not just the officers?” the aide said.

“I gave my word we would give immunity to all of them,” the diplomat responded.

“The Ethics and Justice Ministry is not going to like that one bit.”

“I don’t give a damn what they don’t like. The president will push them to make it happen. What about the other conditions

”

Mac tried to tune them out. Whatever details they were going over, perhaps he was best in the dark about it. He did not want to have the burden of worrying about something he had no control over.

His mission was simply to fly them out to a distant, safe spot—far away from their base—and then let them make a connection to the Ocean and return immediately after. Hopefully by that time, he would be sober enough to surf back safely through streams.

At that moment, the marine came forward and sat in the copilot seat.

“I don’t need the company, lad,” Mac said.

“Well,” the marine said, whispering, “I’m sick of their political chitchat. Want to talk with someone more on my level.”

Mac puffed a plume of smoke in the marine’s direction. To his surprise, the marine did not wave it off.

“All right, lad. Just don’t you dare complain about the cigar smoke or you’re hitting the back. Got it?”

The marine grinned. “No complaints. I like the smell.”

“Really? You know, smelling other people’s smoke is akin to smelling other people’s shit. You like smelling shit, too?”

The marine did not flinch. “I live in the shit—I smell it every day.”

Mac laughed. “I like that answer, laddy. Keep that up and I might just not completely hate you.”

The shuttle cleared the Sea Wolf and Mac began keying in the sequence to make the jump out.

The marine gestured toward the debris field. “Is it just my eyes, or are those rocks moving in different directions?”

Mac nodded, the cigar bouncing up and down, and flicking a clump of ashes to the ground.

“Not your imagination—they’re moving all right.”

“What’s making them move?”

“Fairies, I guess,” Mac said, stomping out the lit ashes on the floor with his boot.

“Must be hard to fly your ships through that. And the capital ship

How do you manage moving that thing in here?”

“The fighters have to be flown in through the streams.” Mac pointed to Stream Three in the distance. “We follow the junk and let it float us in here. You have to know what you’re doing though or you’ll get smashed. Only great pilots like me have that kind of skill.”

“Impressive. But why can’t you just jump in?”

“You sure are asking a lot of questions.” Mac gave him a suspicious look. For a split second, he could swear he saw three of the marine.

“Just trying to pass the time,” the marine responded. “Would you rather hear those blokes back there talking?”

Mac shrugged. “I guess there’s no harm in it. We’re all on the same side after all, right?”

“Of course, friend.”

Mac puffed on the cigar and savored it before talking. “It’s going to take some getting used to—all those rules of the Confed.” He gestured with the cigar. “I doubt I’ll even be able to smoke this anywhere on Mars.”

The marine shook his head. “I’m afraid not. So you were going to tell me about why you can’t just jump in here?”

“I was, wasn’t I?” Mac smiled. “All right, then. Supposedly the streams form a natural gravity well. Ships have to surf the streams to get inside.”

“But the Sea Wolf

It’s too big to surf any streams, right?”

“Ahh, very astute of you, Mr. Marine.” Mac blew another plume of smoke. “There is a sweet spot where the Sea Wolf sits. It’s clear of the gravity’s influence, but you have to know the exact coordinates to jump inside, or you get blocked.”

Mac belched.

“You’ll have to excuse me now, lad. I’m trying hard to concentrate on flying and savoring this cigar at the same time. And with you talking and asking all these questions, it’s getting hard to do. So hit the back.”

The marine nodded. “Not a problem, friend.” He then moved back with the others.

Mac grabbed the cigar out of his mouth and touched the controls to make the jump. The sinking feeling hit him, made all the more intense in his current state. He leaned over the side of his seat and puked on the ground—too quickly for the internal gravity field to have a chance to kick in.

“Oh shit!” the aide exclaimed.

Mac peered behind him. Apparently he had made a bigger splash than expected and wet some of the passengers. The diplomat’s aide gave him a disgusted look. Mac just smiled back at them.

“Your Excellencies,” Mac said. “We have arrived!”

CHAPTER 31: FLYTRAP

Reece looked at the tactical display. They flew along in a Venusian transport that was barely holding together. He had managed to insert the ship into Stream One’s influence and they were now surfing along its path to the next stream.

He liked that the controls of the transport were analog and not holographic, as was Venusian tradition. However, it was an unwieldy craft and he would need to compensate for it by altering his timing. Each successive jump would become more difficult, so it was going to take some surgical flying to safely get to the next stream.

Reece set a timer on the computer, using calculations he had come to memorize from practice runs he and the pilots had done with their Z-40s through the streams—back at a time when he had a full squadron. A time when Tash was still around. He wondered how many of them were left now.

He gazed at the timer. The seconds ticked away as he waited for the moment where he would need to pull some impossible flying.

“How are they doing?” Reece asked, keeping his attention fixed on the timer.

“I’m fine, asshole!” Murdock’s voice yelled. “Just get us on the deck already.”

“Hey!” Laina shouted. “Daryl is dying—thanks to you two idiots! We need to get him on the ship now. How much longer?”

Reece sighed.

Hours earlier, they’d complied with Laina’s wishes, following her lead in talking Daryl into letting them go. Unfortunately, her gift of gab did little to sway him—even the revelation about her brother did not in help. In fact, the news seemed to infuriate him into a rage, invigorating him enough to stay conscious even longer.

So they went for Plan B—Reece’s escape plan. They waited for the transport to be operational and then for an opening to take advantage of a weakened Daryl. The opportunity came when he moved equipment out of the transport, stumbled, and appeared to nearly pass out. Reece took advantage of the opening and kicked Murdock’s neuralizer off—giving him the chance to wrest control of the rifle from their Venusian Peacekeeper guardian.

Unfortunately, it did not go as planned and the ensuing struggle resulted in a shot being fired, hitting Murdock’s leg. Daryl tried to regain his faculties, but apparently the fatigue overcame him and he passed out, leaving it up to Reece and Laina to drag both wounded men into the transport and take off.

Now Reece had two injured passengers—one of them critically—and a testy Laina giving him an I-told-you-so attitude with a healthy dose of angry bitch to go with it.

“We’ll be lucky enough if we make it there at all,” Reece finally shot back. “This thing has the maneuverability of a space tug.”

“Then hail the Sea Wolf again!” Laina barked.

“I just did. They’re not responding.”

“Well

have they launched Wolf Squadron to greet us?”

“No—I don’t think so anyway. But they could be behind us right now with a finger in our ass and I wouldn’t know. This debris is blocking everything—can’t see shit, not even the Sea Wolf.”

“What stream are we on?” she asked.

“We’re approaching Stream Two—why?”

“Because according to protocol, Lieutenant—they won’t talk to us until we get farther in. Just get us past the streams—if you can manage not to fuck that up.”

Reece felt his face flush—he had to bite his tongue. “I’m working on it, honey. But if you don’t stop the yakking, I’m going to smash this thing into the nearest asteroid just so I don’t have to hear your sweet voice.”

She did not say anything in reply.

Reece turned his attention back to the visual ahead. He could see a thin stream of debris from Stream One curve out toward their destination: Stream Two. The rocks and junk propelled toward the second stream with what seemed to be only two possible destinies.

One destiny had Stream One’s debris commingle with the debris from Stream Two, safely carrying it like passengers in a transit system, while the other destiny had the debris impacting against the traversing junk, creating a plume of destruction filled with dust and smaller rocks in its wake.

Reece hoped to avoid the latter destiny for himself.

He looked at the onboard timer—only a few more seconds.

“Better secure your patients, sweetheart,” Reece warned. “This is going to be the ride of your life.”

The juncture was rapidly approaching. Ahead, Stream One curved to his right, while a thin avenue rose up to his left as it entered Stream Two.

As he examined the tactical data, Reece envisioned in his mind the proper path the transport would take. The transport’s sensors did not have the proper calibration to detect the invisible gravity streams—however, by magnifying the image, he could visibly see the dust particles tug the edge of the stream, signifying its exit point.

He also saw continuously sporadic gaps in the line of debris, but it was constantly changing. He would need to make a decision on where to jump just as he reached the juncture—at the very last second. Reece gripped the controls—it would be any moment.

The timer went off.

Reece kicked the engines on, and pointed the transport at the proper trajectory. As expected, the ship began to buckle and vibrate from the force of the gravity stream fighting it. The memory of Tash’s initial cowboy attempt to enter the stream flashed in his mind—he would have to be a bit more surgical than that, especially in this tug.

As he fought the controls, Reece followed with his eyes an empty pocket where he could fit the ship. He would need to cut off the engines at the right moment, or he would not have enough inertia to get to the desired spot.

The transport wobbled to the edge of Stream One. He cut off the engines just as its nose cleared the stream. The ship stopped vibrating and the inertia carried it ahead to Stream Two. He used the rotational thrusters to maneuver the ship in, so that its most narrow point inserted itself without impacting against any surrounding debris. The transport buckled briefly as the gravity stream grabbed them. They were now surfing Stream Two.

He adjusted the timer for the final maneuver.

“We’re approaching Stream Three—almost home.”

Home? he thought to himself.

It had not been that long

Was he already seeing The Sea Wolf as his home?

In his former life, he had never even thought of Stromond’s as home—and he and the pilots worked for him far longer. So what was it about the Sea Wolf that made it different?

So far, the whole thing was far more than he had bargained for. They lost Tash and he was not even sure who was left. They were being chased by both the UEP and the Confed—and then there was Chorus, and their meeting at The Impact Crater. Could he really trust her? He did not know what to believe anymore.

Reece looked ahead and prepared himself—he needed to focus on what was coming up. The final bit of acrobatics would be the most dangerous. Streams Two and Three opposed each other. In order to escape the shower of debris, he would need to kick the engines on full power at the last moment where the gravity was at its weakest.

Clusters of debris, mostly composed of asteroids, flung toward each other from the two streams, resulting in a never-ending derby of destruction. Waves of debris flung out in all directions, pulsating outward from the two streams. He would need to follow the trajectory of the debris and avoid colliding with them as they ejected out into space.

Reece did not need to glance at the timer to know that he would need to make the move any second. He gripped the controls again and readied himself.

Again, the timer went off.

The opposing stream was dead ahead, and he was hurtling toward incoming debris. He was about to hit the throttle when he was distracted.

“How much longer!?” Laina yelled.

Reece’s hand hesitated for a split second, enough to throw his jump off.

The transport scraped against one of the outward flinging rocks, pushing them into a different trajectory. Reece tried to straighten the ship out, but they were twisting and turning out of control. The ship had no dynamic imaging, so he could not even see what they were flying toward—it was just a dizzying blur of space and rock.

Alarms on his console started going off. He struggled with the controls, but it seemed to only make things worse. He turned off propulsion and closed his eyes, anticipating the eventual fatal collision.

He stared into the dark of his closed eyelids, speaking into that place where his friends awaited him in the Milky Way Farm.

All right, Tash—better get my chair ready, he thought to himself. Drinks are on you, you cheap bastard.

The screeching sound of scraping metal resounded inside and an alarm sounded on his console. He expected it to end at any moment—but it did not come. The ship stopped vibrating and everything was silent. He opened his eyes.

The alarm on the console drew his attention to damage it detected on the outer hull—fortunately the inner hull was untouched. If the rocks had managed to penetrate farther, they would be venting their atmosphere into space, or worse—an implosion.

The outside image was stationary—just a view of the debris field around them. But they were not in a stream and did not appear to be drifting. He glanced at the tactical readouts—they were in fact completely stationary.

At that moment, a green-looking Laina popped up next to him.

“What happened?” she asked. From the look of her, the ride must have made her sick.

Reece just shook his head. “We’re not moving—we should be dead.”

“Obviously we are not,” she snipped. “Where are we?”

The navigation system showed them on the inner wall of the debris field, approximately seventy-three kilometers from the ship. Oddly, the sensors seemed to be picking up a lot more from this position. He was even able to see outside of the debris field and pick up detailed scans of distant space objects—all the way out to Earth and Mars.

“Not far from the Sea Wolf. We got real lucky.”

He reactivated the engines and started to apply throttle, but the ship shook violently and warning alarms began flashing.

Something had hold of them and they were not budging. He eased off on the throttle and the shaking stopped. Glancing at the navigation readouts, he saw they had not moved a single centimeter from their original position.

“What was that?” Laina asked, holding onto a handrail trying to steady herself.

“I don’t know—”

Reece was interrupted by a beep from the conference channel.

“Answer it,” Laina ordered.

Reece gritted his teeth. “Will you please stop that? You’re driving me crazy!”

Laina stepped back. “Stop what?”

“Hovering!” he growled.

Laina flung her hands in the air. “Whatever.”

Reece sighed, then acknowledged the signal.

“Unknown craft, identify yourself or you will be fired upon.”

It sounded like Ramey—he wondered why it wasn’t Jared.

“Ramey, this is Reece—with passengers and—”

“And Laina!” she put in.

“And Laina. We request assistance, we appear to be—stuck out here.”

There was a pause, then a familiar voice came on the conference channel.

“Reece! You’re alive!” It was Cronin. “We all thought you’d bought the farm!”

Reece smiled. “You won’t be getting my share of the plunder that easy, mate. Did everyone make it off the station?”

“Yeah, mostly,” Cronin said. “Eddie got hurt—lost his eye, but he’s alive. Mac is out on a solo mission. I think he’s fine, though. Glad you’re alive, friend.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Reece looked down at his sensors and could see Cronin’s Z-40 nearby.

“Not sure if you can see me,” Cronin said, “but I’m about twenty clicks off your starboard. It looks like you’re stuck in the Flytrap.”

“I can see you on sensors just fine—but Flytrap?”

“I don’t know, either,” Cronin said. “The captain just told me that what you’re stuck in is something they call the Flytrap. Part of the gravity anomaly—a spot that grabs you and won’t let go. Your engines won’t be able to free you from it.”

“This place is full of surprises,” Reece said. “Does this Flytrap have an effect on sensors? I’m getting really sharp readings from here.”

“Got me on that, mate. If it wasn’t for the Sea Wolf’s telemetry feed, I would never have been able to find you. They picked up your hails and fed me the coordinates.”

“This Flytrap might come in handy if we ever get into a scrap out here.”

“I’m sure this is all very interesting to you, boys,” Laina said. “But we have injured passengers here!”

Reece rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I almost forgot about your dying Ven friend.”

“Don’t forget about me, you asshole,” Murdock barked. “I got shot too!”

“All right,” Reece said. “Cronin, if we can’t get out with our engines, what do we do?”

“I have to lock a tow beam on you,” he said. “But I have to get in really close—and I can’t do that without getting sucked in myself.”

“So, what can I do from here?”

“Nothing, mate. Just buckle in and hold on tight. I have to do a high-speed flyby and lock a tow beam on you as I strafe by. It’s the only way for me to catch you without getting sucked into the trap.”

Reece looked back at the passengers. “You heard him, nurse. Get strapped in—we’re going for another ride.”

Laina, still green from the last ride, glowered at him. “You must really be enjoying this, you rogue.”

Reece suppressed a grin. “Oh, I would never.”

*****

Julius and Chorus walked down the corridor together. They were on the way to the flight deck to await Reece’s return. Random crew would ogle her as they walked by. At first, Julius tried to deflect their attention by glaring at them—but it soon got monotonous, plus she seemed to relish the attention anyway.

Julius had to laugh. Underneath the illusion of a woman, underneath the artificial flesh and blood created by the nanobots, she was a machine—the offspring of the A.I.

With the exception of Laina and Reece, none of the crew knew what she really was. To them she was a beautiful woman on a ship full of male rogues. He would need to keep her as much out of sight as possible to avoid any incidents.

“Okay, Chorus,” Julius spoke as they entered the elevator. “I need to know what it is you need from us.”

“My hackers need a place to work from,” she answered. “A private office on the ship.”

“I can arrange that—but what are they going to be doing in this office?”

“They will be using the Ocean,” she answered.

“Well I figured that,” Julius said. “But for what purpose?”

“To track down and locate my brother.”

Julius reached over to the elevator’s panel and stopped the motor. “Why? I thought the last thing you wanted was to find him?”

She turned to face him. At some point between walking the corridor, and entering the elevator, her appearance changed to something casual—a V-neck shirt, black full-length pants, boots, and short-cropped hair; it resembled the kind of attire a crewmember might wear—if they happened to be an attractive female.

“I need to know where he is,” she said. “He will continue his search to find me and I must prevent that outcome.”

Julius turned up an eyebrow. “Why? What would happen?”

The emerald glow of her eyes focused their attention to the ground for a moment—another seemingly human gesture. She returned her gaze to his and their eyes locked. The deep black of her pupils contrasted exotically with the emerald green that surrounded it. He had to keep reminding himself she was not human.

“If we were to meet, devastation would be the outcome. Everything around us would suffer. I cannot let that happen.”

“What—like matter and antimatter mixing or something?”

“Metaphorically speaking, yes.”

“Fine. Then how do you plan on stopping him? I need to know the details of your plan.”

She made a gesture with her hand, and the elevator motor resumed. “I will explain everything soon to you, Laina, Reece, and their passenger.”

She turned away from him and faced the elevator doors, standing impassively—in a somewhat robotic way.

“What passenger?” he asked her.

The doors opened and she stepped ahead without answering. Reluctantly, he followed and stepped in beside her as they walked onto the landing deck.

Ralph approached him and saluted. The chief’s eyes remained transfixed on Chorus, even as Julius completed his salute. It was not until Julius spoke that the chief dropped his hand.

“Report!” Julius barked.

Ralph blinked and straightened up.

“Sir—Cap’n! Reece’s steed is about to kick dirt off the deck. We got stretchers ready for ’em and medical’s been alert’d.”

“I want the doctor down here immediately to tend to the wounded. If their injuries are serious, then every second is going to count.”

Ralph blinked—a familiar expression of uncertainty from the chief that Julius had come to recognize.

“The doctor? Come down

here, Cap’n?”

“Is there a problem with that order, Chief?”

“Uhh, no, sir. It’s just—”

“I don’t care about his phobias,” Julius interrupted. “You get him down here at gunpoint if you have to.”

“Yes, sir!” Ralph gave a lopsided salute before running off.

“They are injured?” Chorus asked.

Julius cocked an eyebrow. “What, you don’t know? You knew about Laina and Reece—and this other passenger you just mentioned to me.”

Chorus stared off at the deck. “The future is always changing.”

“As long as it doesn’t repeat itself,” Julius said, “let it keep changing.”

The two walked up to the edge of the safe area of the landing deck. Beyond it lay the launch lanes. The landing deck itself was inside the dorsal hull of the ship, and extended all the way from its bow to the aft. It was the aft landing deck that crew utilized. From here, shuttles and fighters would land and launch from the Sea Wolf. The bow landing deck was never fully operational and was left unused.

Painted markings lined up and down each launch lane, designating their numbers—from one to thirteen. A tow-beam emitter sat at the beginning of each lane, assisting in both launches and landings. They now stood overlooking lane seven, where they could see the incoming transport penetrate the blue energy field at the far end.

Julius looked over to see crewmen arrive with stretchers. They were flanked by two of the doctor’s assistants—Doc Lankey was not among them. He beamed a look at Ralph, who tried to avoid his gaze by ducking his head inside the housing of a fighter’s engine compartment.

At that moment, Julius heard and felt the low hum of the tow beam emitter as it grabbed the incoming transport. Julius could see some ugly dents on the hull of the transport, marring the yellow and black Venusian paint job. The tow beam guided the ship down to a parking spot a couple of meters from him. The medical crew waited for the emitter to deactivate, and then they rushed ahead with the stretchers.

The transport door opened and he recognized the familiar figure of Wolf Squadron’s commander. Reece walked to the edge of the transport’s exit, scratching his beard. When he spotted Julius, he gave a weary smile.

Julius gave him a slap on the arm before Reece could bother to salute. “Welcome aboard,” he said.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see this ship again—but I guess luck was on my side, eh, Captain?”

“More than you know,” Julius said.

Chorus stepped up from the rear and stood next to Julius. Reece seemed to catch sight of her for the first time, and his eyes went wide for a moment.

“You

” Reece said. “I wondered what happened to you.”

“Hello, Reece,” Chorus said. “I am sorry I could not help you directly, but my brother was near and I could not risk an entanglement.”

“Your brother?” Reece said, raising an eyebrow.

“Later,” Julius said.

At that moment, Julius heard a familiar voice—Laina. She was standing next to one of the hovering stretchers, yelling at the medical crew. He walked past Reece and as he went up to greet her, he caught sight of Murdock on the other stretcher.

Julius looked down at his old friend. “How is he?” he asked the medic.

“I’m fine, shithead,” Murdock said, the strength in his voice was encouraging. “Don’t worry, as long as this ship’s still running, I’m not dying.”

Julius smiled. “I’m more worried about the ship dying without you, not the other way around.”

“I think he’s going to be fine, sir,” one of the medics said. “We need to take him to Doc Lankey.”

Julius motioned them off and joined Laina, who was following the stretcher out of the transport. She gave him a quick glance—a worried expression on her face. She then returned her attention to the injured passenger.

“Glad to see you.” Julius tried to steal her gaze.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she responded. “Can you make sure these medics give him priority? He’s going to die if they don’t treat him quickly.”

Julius looked at the passenger—he was wearing a Venusian Peacekeeper uniform that was covered in blood from the waist down. His face was clean-shaven and pale white, with a smudge of blood on his cheek. Whoever he was, he doubted he was going to make it.

He gave the medic a questioning look; the crewman returned it with a slight shrug that confirmed his thought.

Laina’s eyes locked with his. Despite the ordeal she must have been through, her eyes had fire in them.

“You have to save him,” she said.

“Fine,” Julius said. “I’ll come along and make sure he’s given attention.”

The group made its way toward the far end of the landing deck and crowded into separate elevators. In the commotion, Julius lost sight of Chorus—she was not with them. He cursed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Laina asked him.

He did not answer. The elevators took them to the lowest deck of the ship, where the infirmary was located. When the doors opened, Julius rushed ahead of the group, heading directly to the infirmary, where he came upon a deck full of filled beds—the last attack had inflicted many casualties.

Julius caught site of Doc Lankey before he could dart away. The doctor gave a surprised look then trotted over to him.

“Captain!” he barked, then reached into his coat and pulled out a flicker pistol.

“Easy, Doc,” Julius cautioned.

He handed Julius the gun sideways. Julius cupped it with both hands and took it.

“Next time you send someone to threaten me—make sure it’s someone with quicker reflexes.”

Julius sighed and stuffed the gun into his jacket.

Lankey looked around wild-eyed. “Captain! Do you have any more?”

Julius motioned around. “What—this isn’t enough work for you?”

Lankey pointed a twitchy finger at one of the bunks.

“That one is almost totally recovered—and that one, just another day or two

and that one, well, that one shouldn’t even be here, but he loved the drugs so much—and I just couldn’t bear to see an empty bed so I kept him here longer. And that one over there—”

“Okay, Lankey!” Julius said. “I get it—you’re running out of patients. I have two more and—”

“Just two?” Lankey interrupted. “You know, you promised I would have plenty of patients to work with when I joined this crew.”

The doctor got closer, flailing his arms in front of his face. Julius had to lean back a little to avoid being hit.

“And you know, it got okay for a while. I mean, I started to get some real work—organ replacements, neurosurgeries, facial reconstruction—but it’s just not consistent enough, damn it! Why, I had a whole week recently where all I had were some suturings and debridements!”

He began pacing in circles as he spoke.

“And most of the time, why, it’s all superficial injuries anyway! Hell, one of my junior assistants could probably handle this entire ward by himself with one arm and leg amputated! This is not what I signed up for! I need more work! If I could leave this room, I’d get off this ship and find more patients to treat! There’s probably a whole galaxy full of them out there—just waiting for me!”

Lankey suddenly stopped talking and gave Julius that crazed look. He put his hands on Julius’ shoulders. He had to fight the urge to rip the doctor’s arms out of their sockets.

“You need to take more chances out there, Captain! You know I’ll patch them up for you! I always do!”

Julius gently pushed him back. “Easy, Lankey! I have a critically injured one here with me.” He motioned to the stretcher with Laina’s patient.

Lankey abruptly brushed past Julius to the medics.

“Put him over there!” he barked at them. “And you—kick that asshole in bunk twenty out of here. He’s perfectly fine and he’s eating up all of my morphine. You—put that patient there and stick some tubes in him

”

Julius sighed and began walking out of the infirmary.

“Wait!” Laina stopped him. “Where are you going?”

Julius pointed toward the doctor. “He’s in good hands, whoever he is.”

“But—you should

stay,” Laina said. “I mean, he might die and

”

Julius felt his temper rising. “I got him to the doctor, Laina!” he yelled. “Now I have a ship to run!”

Feeling irritated, he began to walk away.

Laina stepped in front of him, putting her hands on his chest.

“Julius, there’s

something you should know and

” She fumbled for words.

Julius heard a commotion behind him.

“We’re losing him!” he heard one of the medics say. “Asystole!”

Glancing over, Julius could see them struggling with him.

“One milligram epinephrine,” Lankey directed. “Get the pressure back up. Fluids?”

“Working on it, Doctor.”

“How’s the cranial scan?” Lankey asked.

“Forty-percent and dropping—signs of hypoxia.”

Julius turned back to face Laina. “Sorry, don’t know who he is to you, or if he helped you escape—but it doesn’t sound like he’s going to make it.”

Laina stared at him expressionless.

“What was it you wanted to tell me?” Julius asked.

She dropped her hands to her sides and stepped back out of his way. “It’s okay,” she said sadly. “I’ll tell you another time—whenever it’s not so chaotic.”

Julius snorted. “I guess you can tell me when I’m dead then.”

He stepped past her and headed out to the elevator.

CHAPTER 32: LUCK AND LOOPS

Julius left the infirmary and set out to find Chorus. He searched the landing deck and then the observation lounge—and finally stopped when he found himself wandering the corridors aimlessly asking crewmen if they had seen her.

On a whim, he decided to try Laina’s quarters—the current home of her conduit. He unlocked the door with his personal code and entered. Inside, boxes of Laina’s plunder were scattered about—but no Chorus.

He approached her conduit and proceeded to yell at it. After emptying his lungs of hair, he stopped, trying to justify in his mind the stupidity of doing it in the first place.

At that moment the doors opened—he expected to find Chorus or Laina walking in, but it was the trio of hackers.

“What are you doing here?” he barked at them.

Haylek—or Waverider, as Chorus had called him—led the three of them inside, and they stopped a few feet from Julius.

“Chorus told us to come here,” Waverider said. “She said you would give us a place to work from.”

Julius sized them up. Waverider, the seeming leader, stood there all pale and pudgy

with that purple Mohawk, to boot. The one to his left—tall, but bone skinny with long blond hair. The one on his right—a short Asian with a slight build. None of them looked like they could pose a threat to the ship or crew.

“What are your names?” Julius asked, turning to the two next to Waverider. “You two, I mean. I already know he’s Haylek

or Waverider.”

“Haylek?” one of them said. “That’s your real name?”

“Shut up!” Waverider growled.

The other two laughed.

“Call me Waverider,” Haylek said. “This is Freeze—and this is The Doc.”

“Very well.” Julius ignored their attempts at a handshake. “What are you planning on doing once I give you a place to work from?”

Waverider looked at him. “Uhhh

do you know anything about hacking?”

“Not really,” Julius said.

“Well, then, you probably won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Okay,” Waverider said. “We’re going to connect an encrypted carrier wave into the Ocean, then probe it for a system broadcasting the signature hash with the hidden watermark of the Brotherhood. We will then use it as a zombie controller and establish a multidimensional web of interconnects so that we can masquerade our sessions from the PIG—”

“The pig?” Julius interrupted.

“The Passive Identification Grid,” Freeze explained.

“Right,” Waverider said. “After that, we’ll probe the outlying systems for common flows of errant cells, running them through a parallel distributed program grid, run by the Brotherhood, that will demux the multiplexed endpoints for a polymorphic signature inside a special encryption algorithm—”

“Enough,” Julius interrupted again. “What is the point of doing all of that? What is your goal?”

Waverider looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “To locate Chorus’ brother—without tipping him off.”

Apparently, their stories were in sync with Chorus. He looked around Laina’s quarters. If a few of the boxes were moved into the storage closet, they could situate themselves here. Laina was not going to like it, but at this point Julius did not care. He wanted all of them—Chorus, the hackers, and even Laina, in one place where he could more easily keep an eye on them.

“Welcome to your new office,” he said. “I will have the crew clear a space for you and set up some bunks.”

Julius left the trio and headed to his own quarters. Along the way, he issued orders to Ramey to make the arrangements. It was going to be a couple more hours before the diplomats returned with their deal. In the meantime, he had nothing more to do—at least nothing that couldn’t wait. With the anxiety and lack of sleep from the past few days, he needed to take advantage of those hours and get some rack time.

He entered his quarters, noting he had left them in disarray. The sheets in his bunk were unmade, datapads littered his desk, and clothes lay on the floor. It was uncharacteristic of him—he could not even remember leaving the mess in the first place.

Exhausted, he kicked off his boots and dove into his bunk. Even the captain of the Sea Wolf needed rack time.

He closed his eyes. Fleeting thoughts about Laina entered his mind. Was he being insensitive to her? Perhaps he should have given her a better welcome—he did almost lose her.

Whatever. He was too tired to care right now. The thoughts and worries faded and he fell into slumber

******

Julius gazed outside his cockpit as he maneuvered the Z-20 fighter into the enemy’s lair. A veil of black clouds covered the machine moon, bubbling over it like a broth inside a witch’s cauldron. Tendrils of electricity suddenly reached out across the cloud cover, piercing the darkness for a moment and revealing what looked like the outline of structures on the surface.

Emerging from the A.I. Moon, an arm of nanobots streamed out and reached out for his fighter.

“Captain Verndock, you are ordered to return to the Intimidator and begin an immediate pull out from the combat zone. Do you copy?”

Julius ignored the order from his superiors. Earlier, he gave Ramey command of the Intimidator with standing orders to keep the nanobot swarm at bay while he took his Z-20 down to the moon. The A.I. had attacked the HAMR pods, destroying or deflecting many of them from their intended drop zone. Daryl’s pod was one of the ones off course, but he managed to safely touch down on the surface. Unfortunately, his HAMR had been damaged by the attack and could not deploy. With none of the other HAMR platoons anywhere near his position, he could die down there—and Julius would have none of that.

“Daryl—I’m almost there. I will make contact with you again after I break through the atmosphere.”

There was a slight delay before the response came back: “Acknowledged, sir.”

“Is everything okay down there?” Julius asked.

“Yes, Captain. I’m just commanding my platoon.”

Despite being in a compromised situation, Daryl still had the sense of duty to continue leading his HAMR platoon remotely.

As Julius swooped his fighter into the atmosphere, he glanced to his right at the nanobots. Flashes of ignitions erupted from within the nanobot tendril as the Intimidator’s cannons continued to pelt it with munitions. In a few more seconds, he would penetrate the moon’s atmosphere and hopefully be outside the swarm’s reach.

“Lieutenant Ramey,” came the voice on the link again, “we are ordering you to pull the Intimidator from the combat zone, immediately!”

If they made it out of this alive, poor Ramey would probably be court-martialed along with him—or worse.

Julius opened a conference link to the Intimidator.

“Ramey, you’ve done enough. Get the Intimidator to safety.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

Julius felt the fighter buckle—he was beginning to enter the moon’s atmosphere.

“Yes—and thanks.”

“Good luck, sir.”

The craft shook more violently and he had to fight the controls all the way, but as soon as he delved into the depths of the swirls of dark clouds, it stopped. For several minutes, all he saw was blackness in every direction. He waited with anticipation, knowing that he would soon be among the first humans to see what lurked beneath the A.I. Moon’s atmosphere.

The cloud cover abruptly cleared and he saw the surface of the machine moon. Julius could not tell if what he saw was real or an illusion. A cityscape of buildings rose up from the ground, but they were not normal structures.

Everything was made up of a complex lattice of intersecting green lines, giving the appearance of three-dimensional objects. The mass in between the lines was black and devoid of any texture. To Julius, the scene seemed like an unfinished computer-generated simulation.

He opened up a conference channel to Daryl.

“Daryl, this is Julius, do you read me?”

The response came quicker this time: “Yes, Captain. I see you on my sensors. There are no hostiles in my area. It is clear for approach.”

“On my way, Daryl.”

Julius flew his fighter through the artificial world, following the telemetry readout to Daryl’s position. The capsule-shaped pod stood out against the lattice surroundings, making it easy to spot. It was tilted to its side and a portion of it disappeared into the artificial ground. Green lines from the intricate lattice design wrapped around it, entrapping it like a spider-web.

Julius landed his craft alongside the HAMR pod. As his fighter’s skids touched the ground, he noticed an artificial matrix of vegetation bend under the weight. Surprisingly, his onboard sensors detected a breathable, Earth-like atmosphere outside. Nevertheless, he took the precaution of putting on his environment suit before exiting the ship.

“Okay, Daryl, get in your environment suit. I’m going to help you get out of here.”

Julius left his fighter, noting the lighter gravity as he stepped out. There seemed to be an artificial light source that provided an even spread of illumination everywhere—he could not identify or see where the source of this light was. As he scanned the unusual surroundings, he noticed what looked like a residential home nearby. It appeared to be made up of the same mesh of intersecting lines. However, something else caught his eye.

Standing in lifelike poses were human figures. They did not move and could have been part of the simulation, except they were not made up of patterns of lines like everything else—they looked real. He would have liked to investigate it, but he needed to get Daryl out of there.

“Are you in your suit?” he spoke into the conference channel.

“No, sir.”

“Well then get in it! We need to get out of here now.”

Daryl did not respond.

“Are you ready? Is there a problem?”

“No problem, sir—I am just not leaving yet.”

“What are you talking about, Daryl? I came here to get you out—we need to go.”

“I’m sorry, Captain—but I have my duty. My platoon needs me.”

“Daryl—I am ordering you to get in your suit and vacate the pod! Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry, sir—but I must refuse that order.”

The argument continued for a moment longer, but his stubborn little brother was not budging from his position. Julius looked at the pod, trying to determine if he could lift it off the ground using his fighter’s tow beam.

“Sir, please back away,” Daryl’s voice warned.

At that moment, the pod began to rumble and it emitted a mechanical sound. Julius moved away from the pod, watching a ring of gas suddenly vent from it. The bottom of the capsule-shaped pod ejected, the lid bouncing off the lattice ground and hurling into the air. From inside the pod, a machine rolled out of it and darted across the ground a couple of meters before coming to a stop.

The HAMR unfolded itself and raised up on its bipedal legs. It stood about two and a half meters tall, its torso compact and stealthy with no visible limbs other than its mechanical legs. Julius knew that inside the torso were retractable weaponry and limbs, all controlled by its pilot through a special neural mind-link.

“Can you please visually inspect the exterior,” a robotic voice asked.

Julius knew it was Daryl’s. While in the mind-link, Daryl had no way to use verbal communication; the voice ensued directly from the HAMR’s computer interpreting his brainwave patterns.

Julius approached him and gave it a thorough look.

“It looks fine—no visible damage. If your propulsion is operational, we should leave.”

“Negative. I cannot leave yet. I am remotely monitoring and commanding my platoon.”

Julius noticed with some discomfort that the words sounded mechanical and cold, as if it was really a machine talking. He had to remind himself that Daryl was really inside it.

“Fine. What is their sitrep?”

“They are on the move from grid G2–10 and shadowing the Reds. The group is approaching the entryway into the core with Alpha Red and Beta Red in close combat with hostiles. The HAMR shielding is functioning as designed, repelling the nanobot attacks.”

“Casualties?”

“No communications or telemetry from Alpha Black and Beta Black since their initial drop.”

Twenty-four soldiers probably dead—all of them kids. Daryl’s platoon was the only Black platoon left—the only ones equipped to perform the shutdown operation within the A.I. Moon’s core. Their only chance now rested in Daryl’s ability to remotely lead the assault.

As much as he wanted to get his little brother out of there, he understood that the success of the mission and the survival of humanity was at stake—they may not get another chance like this again.

“All right, Daryl—continue what you’re doing,” he said, then looked over to the nearby home that caught his eye. “I’m going to do some reconnoitering.”

Julius traversed easily through the low gravity, trotting to the home several meters away. As he approached, he was able to confirm what he discerned from a distance, the people did indeed appear to be real—or at least, more real than the surroundings.

It was two of them, a man and a woman, standing on the front lawn of the home in casual attire. They both stared out in the distance, beaming a lifeless smile to no one. Julius touched one of them with his gloved finger, feeling the depression from his touch in the lifelike skin.

“This is really strange,” he said. “These people

they seem so real.”

Julius waved his hand in front of their faces. As the shadow of his hand passed over them, he was shocked at what he saw in their eyes—their pupils reacted to the change in light.

“Daryl,” he said. “I think these people—I think they’re

real.”

At that moment, he felt a sudden vibration in the ground. Julius looked toward the landing zone. On the ground, he saw a black, circular crater forming—spreading outward and making the ground collapse into it. Daryl’s HAMR rapidly moved toward him, escaping—but Julius’ fighter was engulfed by it. After a moment, the hole ceased growing and the vibrations subsided.

Daryl’s HAMR stopped by Julius, pivoting sidewise to look at the crater.

“What happened?” Julius asked.

“I don’t know. My sensors picked up an energy reading back there, which gave me just enough warning to escape.” Daryl paused. “Sir, something else: I have lost communication with the platoons.”

“Are your instruments damaged?”

“Negative. All systems are functioning, but nothing is being received.”

“What about the Reds? Can you communicate with them?”

“Sir, I have no telemetry on any of them. All the platoons are gone.”

Julius’ heart sank—the mission had failed.

“What was the last thing that happened?” Julius asked.

“Delta Black had penetrated the entryway and was marching into the core. Everything appeared to be going well, then there was silence.”

At that moment, Julius felt a rumbling in the ground and sensed movement coming from the crater that drew his attention. From inside its depths, a slew of green lattice lines flew up like a series of strings, and then dove to the ground. The lines snaked across the ground, constructing themselves into complex polygonal shapes.

As Julius watched, the mesh of objects slowly formed into a recognizable series of constructions. It did not take him long to recognized what it was creating: HAMRs—two dozen of them. Soon, the simulation was finished and the crater was gone, replaced by the stationary HAMR platoons lined up in three rows.

Within the transparent meshes, Julius noticed something inside them. He adjusted the visual magnification of his suit. What he saw verified the horror that he suspected. Inside the mechanized robots were the bodies of the missing platoon pilots, in the same suspended animation as the couple standing before him.

“Josh

Mike

” Daryl said. “We have to rescue them!”

Before Julius could say anything to stop him, Daryl’s HAMR leapt forward and ran toward them. He was about to chase after him when the ground suddenly began to shake. Around him, the lattice lines blinked erratically and sections of the ground seemed to disappear.

The artificial sky’s cloud cover changed from black to white and the illumination around him became increasingly brighter. He looked to the distant horizon and watched the artificial cityscape collapse, falling into the chasm beneath the moon’s surface.

“It’s the shutdown effect!” Daryl’s voice echoed in his helmet.

They had done it—the platoon had succeeded. But now the moon would follow its creator into death, and without his fighter to fly out of there, Julius would die with it.

“You need get out of here, Daryl! Use your thrusters!” he pleaded.

Daryl ignored him, marching the HAMR back to his position. Julius had to avert his eyes down to the ground as the brightness of the sky became blinding. He watched the artificial grass and vegetation at his feet begin to recede beneath the earth. Eventually, the ground itself would give way and he would fall into the chasm—joining the graveyard of constructs the A.I. had created.

At that moment, Julius felt something brush his leg. He whirled around to see that the human couple was no longer held in stasis and had collapsed to the ground. The woman fell close to him, and had her hand on his boot.

Julius knelt down and grabbed her hand. Her eyes searched the surroundings in shock.

Who is she? he thought to himself. How did she get here?

“It’s okay,” he said to her, not quite sure what else to say. “Don’t panic. We’ll get you home.”

It was a lie, but perhaps it would give her some peace in these last moments.

She looked up at him, her glossy brown eyes locked onto his, reflecting the brightness of the demise around them. Rather than tear up, project terror, or close her eyes in fear—she smiled at him. It was a genuine smile

of relief.

Daryl reached them, his HAMR’s shadow covering them both.

“Get out of here, Daryl!” he yelled.

There was no response from him and the telemetry data inside his suit was out—perhaps he could not even hear him.

In that moment, the woman grabbed Julius’ arm, squeezing so tightly at the environmental suit’s fabric that he worried she would pierce through it.

The ground became unstable, losing its sturdiness and dropping in clumps like quicksand into the chasm. Resigned to his fate, Julius put his hand over hers and looked at her, waiting for the inevitable. She stared back at him, that smile never leaving her lips, even as everything disappeared into the whitest of hells.

******

Reece strolled the length of the flight deck, observing the activities of the deck crew. About a dozen of them performed various tasks—from maintenance of craft to housekeeping the deck.

He also saw a couple of them operating tow beam lifts, using the emitters to move craft from the parking area to the hangar deck for storage. Another group moved fallen cargo containers with portable tow lifts. Apparently, the cargo had been stacked so high that it tipped over from the last battle—tumbling onto the floor.

As Reece watched, one of the containers came crashing down to the ground, breaking open and spilling its contents—some kind of black liquid. The senior officer began cursing profusely at the technician who fouled up.

Reece noticed that the deck crew uniforms all seemed to bear the same orange and brown color scheme—with nothing to differentiate their personnel duties. The only thing that visibly separated the uniforms was a rank insignia on the sleeves.

He reckoned with the limited number of crew, that each of them were probably tasked with multiple duty ratings—the price for being part of a pirate ship. At least the reward might make the extra work worth it—provided they survived to see the plunder.

Reece scanned the crew’s faces until he came upon one he recognized, the Chief Mechanic, Ralph. He was surrounded by a group of his men, while working on a shuttle.

“Hey, Chief!” he called to him. “Where can I find Eddie?”

Ralph either did not hear him or purposely ignored him. He continued working on the shuttle, burying his head deep inside a compartment.

Reece heard and felt the low vibration of a tow beam. He turned to look and could see a Z-40 being set down on the deck—it had to be Cronin.

He walked over, just as the cockpit door at the bottom opened and the pilot dropped down out of it.

“Wanker?” Reece called to him.

“Reece,” Cronin said as he took off his helmet and handed it to one of the deck crew.

He came up and they clapped hands.

“Nice to see you, Reece.”

“Same. Thanks for your help back there with the Flytrap.”

“Ehhh,” Cronin said. “Just take it off the tab I owe you. You’ve saved me plenty of times before. Have you seen Eddie yet?”

“No, mate, not yet. Have you?”

“I tried earlier—but I’m not going back down there alone.”

“Why?” Reece asked. “What happened?”

“That doctor,” Cronin said then whistled. “Whatever you do, don’t get sick on this boat. Wait till we’re at a port or planetside—the guy’s totally spacial.”

Reece suddenly got worried for Eddie. “We better go check on him.”

They walked to the elevator, but as they stepped inside it, they heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Hey there, deckers,” Mac said loudly. “Tell your chief that he’ll be happy to know that his steed is healthy—and well fed, too. I also left something for him on the cabin floor—tell him it’s a special gift that reminds me of ’im.”

They turned around to see Mac standing outside his shuttle.

He inspected a cigar that he held and then wiped something off of it before puffing on it. He looked up and spotted Reece and Cronin.

“Lads!” He hurried over. “Where’ve you been? Hold that elevator!”

Mac joined them inside. Cronin touched the panel and the doors closed.

“Nice to see you, mate!” Mac said to Reece. “I got worried that I’d have to command what was left of this bunch.”

“Not likely, Mac,” Reece said. “This bunch could never take orders from a drunken Irishman blowing smoke. Where’d you come back from?”

Mac puffed, filling the elevator compartment with cigar smoke.

“Special mission, laddy,” he began with a grin. “This drunk Irishman had to courier a Martian diplomat—not to mention I saved the ship earlier!”

“You didn’t save it alone,” Cronin corrected.

“Diplomat? What’s going on?” Reece asked.

They exited the elevator and walked the corridors toward the infirmary. Along the way, Mac explained everything he knew about the Martian diplomat and the amnesty they would be offering the crew.

“Can you believe it, Reece?” Cronin began. “That A.I. cargo—in exchange for amnesty and free living? Maybe Tash didn’t die for nothing.”

“Ahhh, it’s not all great,” Mac lamented. “We won’t really be free. Hell, I won’t even be able to smoke a cigar without getting fined.”

Reece felt uneasy. The pilots did not know about Chorus—all they knew was it was a machine relic that they happened to steal.

None of them knew about what Chorus had told him—that her capture by any of the governments could put humanity in peril

well, at least according to her.

Reece had to talk to Julius privately about all of this and find out what his plan was. In the meantime, he did not think the other pilots should know any more than they already did—not yet anyway.

“Yeah,” Reece said. “I guess we got real lucky on this one. Too bad Tash didn’t get to see this day.”

They soon reached the infirmary and walked into a room filled with occupied beds. The hospital appeared to be separated into two sections. The far side lacked any overhead lighting, with only a few standup lamps to provide some inadequate illumination. Reece could see signs of a crude, perhaps abrupt expansion into a another room—with a broken section of wall and some debris delineating the two sections.

Medical personnel traveled among the bunks, administering care to the patients. Reece led the trio through the row of beds, trying to find Eddie’s face among them. He caught sight of Laina standing next to an operating table on the dark side of the hospital. A group of medics were working on a patient—it was Daryl.

“More light! More light!” the doctor yelled.

A nurse with a handheld lamp moved it closer to the table.

As Reece approached, he could swear he saw something on the doctor’s shoulder. Although the dim light made it difficult to see, it appeared to be a colorful and feathered bird of some kind—a parrot?

Just as he got close enough to make out the details, he felt a sudden hand on his shoulder. He whirled around to find Eddie standing behind him.

He had some scratches on his face and a black patch on one eye, but he looked much better than Reece expected.

“How you feeling?” Cronin asked him first.

Eddie gave a shrug and pointed at his eye patch. “Still have one eye at least—could be worse.”

“Patch!” Mac blurted out. “That’s your new name.”

Eddie gave him a confused look. “What’re you talking about, Mac?”

“I’m not Mac. I’m Stogie.”

“You need to lay off the booze, Mac,” Cronin said.

“Aye, I guess now that Reece is back I’m going to have to. I’m trying to come up with call signs for you lads.”

He gave Reece and Cronin each a long look.

“Don’t have a name for you two yet.”

A familiar voice interrupted them, “Who put you in charge of naming us, wanker?”

Taffy walked up to them. He was wearing a fancy-looking flight jacket and a big smile on his face.

“Where’ve you been?” Cronin asked.

“Playing my lucky hand,” Taffy said. He tugged his jacket. “Won this on the last game. I heard that you gents might be down here.”

Reece wandered away from the pilots as they conversed, turning his attention back to the doctor and Laina.

As he approached the operating table, he managed a better look at what was on the doctor’s shoulder.

Orange beak, white checkered face, with bands of red, yellow, and green feathers going down its back and ending at its tail.

Apparently, his earlier observation was correct—it was a parrot, or at least parrot-like. The bird’s claws did not look sharp and seemed to have blunt, finger-like extrusions that it used to keep perched on the doctor’s shoulder.

There was also something unusual about its behavior. The doctor was directing the medics to work on the patient and then would stop and turn his head, putting his ear to its beak.

The parrot would then appear to whisper to him, and then he would continue working on the patient—as if the bird was telling him what to do.

“Are you seeing this too?” he heard Eddie whisper to him.

Reece looked over—Eddie had wandered away from the other pilots to join him.

“Let’s get closer,” Reece said, and they got right behind the doctor.

The parrot turned its head completely around, and to their surprise, it spoke to them.

“Hello, Reece. Hello, Eddie,” it said.

Reece recognized the voice: Chorus. Despite the obvious oddity of it, what came to the forefront of his mind was how strange it was that her voice did not squawk like a parrot.

“I am helping Doctor Lankey,” she continued. “To repair—to heal, Daryl. He is gravely injured.”

Lankey suddenly threw something metal against a wall and began to flail his arms. Chorus had to jump off him, somehow managing to gracefully land on the ground in front of the group.

“God damn it! You don’t want to live?” Lankey yelled, apparently addressing Daryl’s unconscious body. “Well, then, fuck you! I don’t have time for this

”

“Please excuse me,” Chorus said, then flew away, perching herself back onto the doctor’s shoulder. Reece could see her beak against Lankey’s ear, as if whispering to him. After a few moments, the doctor calmed down and went back to work on Daryl.

“What now, little parrot?” Lankey asked, jerking his head quickly toward the bird. His eyes were wide and appeared bloodshot as they stared intently at Chorus. To say the doctor was neurotic seemed an understatement.

“Just keep calm and continue doing what you’re doing, Doctor,” Chorus said to him. “You won’t be able to cure him completely, but you can keep him alive. Nothing else to be done.”

“What? Preserve him?” Lankey said. “Like taxidermy? You are a cruel one, little parrot.”

“Why are you a parrot?” Reece asked.

“What other spirit animal would you find on a pirate ship!” Lankey answered loudly.

The stoic expressions around the table told the story of a medical staff that was used to the doctor’s crazy outbursts.

“Continue your work, Doctor,” Chorus said. “I will return shortly.”

Chorus’ parrot form jumped off Lankey’s shoulder and perched itself on the handle of a nearby tray table. She then faced the two pilots, turning her orange beak to them.

“This parrot is the only way to get him to listen to my advice. The others, except for Laina, cannot see or hear me.”

“But why a parrot?” Reece whispered. “Why not as a woman?”

“I originally appeared to him in my human form,” she explained. “But he would ignore me and would not listen to my directions.

I then observed that he would talk to an imaginary guide—he called it his spirit animal and it was a parrot. So I took the form of a parrot and masqueraded as his imaginary guide so that he would listen.”

“Makes perfect sense.” Reece chuckled.

“It does not make perfect sense to me. He also refuses to leave this hospital because he believes his spirit guide won’t go with him. Why would he think that and see things that are not really there?”

“He’s just spacial, Chorus,” Reece said.

“I don’t understand—please explain. What does that mean?”

“It means he’s crazy,” Eddie offered. “Although, with everything I’ve seen these past couple of days, I might be going spacial too.”

“So he has damage to his brain,” Chorus said. “Perhaps with your help we can repair it?”

“I don’t think so, doll,” Eddie said. “I’m a pilot—I’ve never done brain surgery, even when I had two eyes.”

Reece said, “All humans are a little crazy, Chorus. Some more than others.”

“But that is not normal,” Chorus persisted. “I must do something to fix it—to help him.”

The two pilots exchanged looks. Reece did not like the way this conversation was going.

“People can’t be fixed like that, Chorus,” Reece said. “We’re not machines.”

There was a pause.

“I am sorry,” she said. “I know that you are not machines. And I understand now.”

At that moment, Laina walked toward the two pilots and parrot, a grave expression on her face.

“So how’s Daryl doing?” Reece asked her.

“I don’t know.” Laina shook her head, frowning. “But the doctor’s babbling seems to belie any optimism. Why don’t you ask the parrot?”

“Even if he lives, he will not regain consciousness,” Chorus said. “There is damage to his brain and these facilities do not have the necessary technology to repair it. All the doctor can do is slow the progression of damage.”

“I know I came a little late to the game,” Eddie said, “but who is this Daryl guy exactly?”

“He’s the captain’s brother,” Reece said.

“Julius’ brother?” Eddie asked. “And he’s not down here with him? I guess they must not be amiable.”

Reece and Laina exchanged looks.

“He doesn’t know it’s his brother,” Reece said.

He then explained to Eddie how they met Daryl, their crash landing on Fiji, and their subsequent escape.

“I’m still not getting it,” Eddie said. “Why hasn’t anyone told the captain?”

“He can’t know,” Laina said. “He can never know.”

“Why, Laina?” Reece asked.

Laina grabbed them both by the arm and they walked to a far corner of the room. Chorus followed, flying across the room and landing on the ground near their feet.

“It’s complicated,” Laina began. “But if Julius knows about him and his condition, it could undermine the mission. Chorus, explain it to them.”

“There is a way I can save him,” Chorus said. “But only by using the remainder of my nanobots—thereby sacrificing my ability to produce nanoforms and protect myself. The nanobots are my only defense against my brother—”

“Wait.” Reece cut her off. “I heard you mention that before. What is this brother talk?”

“His name is Daniel Chin,” she said. “Like me, he is Majesty’s offspring. We share many of the same abilities and knowledge. However, his goal is different than mine. He wishes to destroy mankind and replace your population with machinekind.

“I must avoid contact with him, or risk surrendering to him what he needs to accomplish this goal.”

“And what is it you have that he can use?” Reece asked.

“Data. Pieces of information that he can use to create a map that can lead him to a special place—a machine moon capable of creating an army of nanobots. He would have an unlimited supply of them.”

“So as you can see,” Laina jumped in. “Julius can’t know—ever. He’ll abort the whole mission if he finds out and we can’t allow that to happen.”

“Uhhh,” Eddie sounded. “What exactly is the mission?”

Laina looked around them, then gave Daryl’s table a quick look.

“Too many ears here,” she said. “Let’s go to my quarters and I’ll explain it all there.”

******

Julius felt a vibration on his ear. At first he ignored it—but when the vibration was coupled with an irritating beep, he had to wake himself up.

Without sitting up, he touched the ornate skull ear-link. A hologram appeared, floating above his bed. It was an image of the bridge, centering on his Tactical Operations Officer, Lieutenant Garval.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

“Sorry to interrupt your sleep, sir. But you instructed me to wake you when the delegation returned.”

“Stand by,” he said.

Julius rubbed his eyes. Where would they meet and who should be a part of it? His thoughts reached out to Laina. He had been cold on her return—perhaps including her in this would be a good way to break the ice, not to mention she was keen on negotiations of this sort.

“Escort the diplomat and his detail to the observation balcony—limit Xanthus to two of his people only. Alert Laina and have her join us there as well.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Julius closed the conference channel and sat up in his bunk. Although he managed a couple hours of sleep, he did not feel rested. He looked down at his boots—their black gloss reminded him of something. As he slipped them on, he tried to recollect what it was.

The A.I. Moon’s black clouds, he remembered. The dream. It all suddenly came back to him. The details, like all of the previous ones of late, were vivid and brought back images and feelings he had thought long forgotten.

Dreams of a time when he was not considered a fugitive. It was the last mission—a mission that would cost him everything.

He pushed back the feelings and thoughts—no sense in dwelling on the past when the future was at hand. The Martian diplomat was going to offer him, and the rest of the crew, another chance anyway. He would bid farewell to the life of a pirate, and perhaps live a normal life—or at least a version of normal he could adapt to.

Julius grabbed his pistol bandolier and headed to the observation deck. When he arrived, Xanthus, one of his aides, and the sergeant were waiting for him. After a brief greeting, they seated themselves around the same table and began the negotiations.

Julius noticed a digital pad on the table. Xanthus pushed it toward him. Julius did not touch it.

“I am waiting for my business partner,” he explained.

At that moment, Laina arrived. She came in wearing a black and white dress that exposed a pair of surprisingly slender legs. Her hair was pulled back and her face was made up. Julius felt a little taken aback—she looked stunning.

The delegates and sergeant stood up. Julius hesitated for a second before joining them.

“My lady,” Xanthus bowed. “You must be the captain’s partner.”

Laina extended her hand Xanthus made a motion to kiss it, and she quickly turned it to the side, turning the gesture into a formal handshake.

“I am Laina. A founding member of this venture and Julius’ partner.”

“I am glad you were able to return,” Xanthus said. “I was uncertain of our ability to rescue you from the UEP. I hope the other missing crew were able to return as well.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Laina said. “All the ones that mattered anyway.”

“Wonderful to hear,” he said. “One less provision in the agreement to worry about.”

They all sat down. Laina gracefully lowered herself into the seat at Julius’ side.

Julius made a motion to grab the digital pad, but Laina intercepted it and began to read it.

“I’ll save you the effort of deciphering it,” Xanthus said. “The deal is this: you and your entire crew will be given complete amnesty by the Martian Confederacy for any crimes you have committed to date—”

“Your Excellency,” Laina interrupted with a smile. “I can read: Confed citizenship with new identities, a one-time cash out of 20 million credits to all crew, 30 million to all officers, 50 million to Julius. Which of course really means 25 million to him and myself—why that’s less than the officers! We need to correct that—50 million each.”

Xanthus smiled back. “My dear, I don’t know if that will be possible. You see, the money is coming from the estimated proceeds of selling your ship and its cargo at fair market value—”

“The Sea Wolf’s fair market value!?” Julius erupted.

Laina put her hand on Julius’ shoulder to calm him.

“Fair market value,” Laina repeated. “Tell me—what is the fair market value of A.I. technology these days? What is the fair market value for preventing an interstellar war? You, Ambassador, are getting a bargain.”

Xanthus studied them both for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think you appreciate how difficult it was for me to obtain the deal that sits before you. However, in the interest of time and to show our good faith, I will make concessions: 45 million each.”

“No, 50 million,” Laina said. “And up the crew by 5 million each—25 to crew and 35 to officers. Or you leave with nothing and the Martian Confederacy can continue its descent into interstellar war.”

Sergeant Premley, who had been quiet up to this point, stood up with rifle in hand.

“Why are we listening to this,” he fumed. “Your Excellency, these are pirates!”

Premley gave Julius a sneer, the finger on his rifle stroking the trigger.

Julius leaned back, letting his jacket part open to expose his twin Gemini flicker pistols.

“Do I offend thee, scallywag?” Julius said in a mock pirate voice. He perched his elbows up, letting his hands dangle just over his weapons.

The marine looked as if he was going to bite—Julius was ready if he did.

“Ambassador,” Laina spoke loudly. “I think we need to come to an agreement quickly—before less desirable methods of negotiation should overtake us.”

“Fine,” Xanthus conceded. “We will increase the payouts. If you have no other changes to this section, I would like to go over what your contribution to the deal will be.”

Laina nodded. “We can move on.”

Julius winked at the marine as he slowly sat back down.

“Very good,” Xanthus said. “In addition to this ship and its cargo, the A.I. must appear before the consortium of the Interstellar Peace Alliance. There it must explain its position and plead its case to the other worlds.”

Xanthus deliberately looked around the room. “I was kind of hoping it would be here.”

“Yes,” Premley spoke for the first time. “Where is the A.I.? Don’t we need her to seal this deal as well?”

Julius looked over to Laina, wondering if she had a good answer for that as well.

“The A.I. has entrusted us to handle these negotiations,” Laina said. “She will go with whatever we have agreed to.”

“How do you know that?” Premley persisted. “The A.I. is quite powerful, after all. Why isn’t it here to reassure the deal?”

“She wants this deal,” Julius said, not quite feeling sure of the words himself.

“She?” Premley repeated. “Have you idiots forgotten that it has no gender? It is a machine that cannot be trusted. I guess it’s in good company though with a bunch of pirates!”

Julius kept his temper in check, letting the marine vent his hot air. But after a long minute of unchecked rambling by the idiot, he beamed Xanthus a look of annoyance. The ambassador apparently took the cue.

“That will be enough, Premley,” Xanthus said. “I am confident that everyone here is operating in good faith.”

The negotiations continued, with Laina verbally fencing with the diplomat until they both came to an agreement. In the end, they’d struck a good deal for everyone. Things were wrapping up without any further incidents, and it concluded with all parties binding to the agreement with a DNA signature.

The delegates stood up to leave. Laina gave them a handshake. Julius stayed seated.

“Julius,” Xanthus said. “I need to disembark now. I trust you will make arrangements to allow my ship to leave?”

Julius gave a nod. “The Sea Wolf will jump to a safe area from which you can disembark and return to your homeworld.”

“Thank you, Julius. You have been a wonderful host. As discussed, we will be in touch regarding the next steps.”

They all walked out, with Premley giving Julius one last passing look of contempt.

Julius and Laina remained alone in the lounge. Laina gave him a curious look before taking a seat next to him. They sat in silence for a moment, with Julius staring at the digital pad on the table.

“Laina,” Julius finally said. “Thank you. You did a service to the crew—and to me. This is a good deal. I am glad to have you back.”

Laina gave a half-smile. “You are welcome.”

Julius continued to stare silently at their copy of the agreement on the table. He had affixed his DNA to it, agreeing to give up the Sea Wolf—to likely be turned into scrap. The ship’s charter required that he run a deal like this by the crew and put it to a vote, but he knew it was academic—none of them would refuse such a prize. Nevertheless, he was not enthused about giving up his home.

“You don’t seem too happy about this,” Laina said.

“It is bittersweet,” he said. “The Sea Wolf and the A.I., in exchange for freedom—and a new life.”

He stared at the agreement, fighting the urge to draw his pistols and shoot it.

“It’s what we wanted it all along

isn’t it?” she said.

He did not respond.

Laina brought her hand to his cheek, turning his face to look at her.

“Isn’t it?” she repeated.

Her eyes had a pleading look about them—she was looking for an answer from him. But what answer could he give?

Julius gently grabbed her hand and pushed it down as he stood up.

“You were going to leave anyway,” he found himself saying. “So it doesn’t matter.”

He made a start to the corridor, then stopped and turned around.

“I need to make arrangements,” he said. “You need to run this deal by Chorus—make sure she really is on board.”

Laina looked at him, her expression difficult to read. He did not wait for an answer and left the lounge.

CHAPTER 33: JUDGEMENT

“When we invented the prototype nanobot, we knew it was capable of so many wonderful things. We knew that we could help mankind, clean up pollution, the food shortages, the energy crisis—we could save mankind with this technology.

“Unfortunately, there was no way we could control them [the nanobots] with the limited computing power of the time. So we had to make another great leap in technology to make it happen, and that is when the A.I. was born.”

Excerpt of holovision interview with Lewis Edwards I, co-founder of Omega Research Corporation, January 2071

Julius had visited Murdock in Engineering, after he had checked himself out of the infirmary. Apparently he was doing fine, limping around on his bad leg and scolding Jessen for missing some steps on the reactor startup. On his way out of Engineering, Julius grabbed some folding crates to take with him to his quarters.

Along the way, he sent a message for Reece to meet him for a discussion; there was an important last mission he needed him for, along with another confidential matter.

As he walked the corridors, he absorbed into his memory the sounds, smells, and images of the antiquated vessel. The captain and his ship shared a history together—but he, unlike it, would live on and on and on. But the Sea Wolf had been dying of old age for a long time and soon it would be sent to its grave.

He entered his quarters and laid the crates on the ground by the doorway. Around him, his homestead remained in the uncharacteristic mess he’d left it. With the knowledge that it would be turned into scrap metal with the rest of the ship, the desire to keep it tidy had abandoned him.

Nothing is permanent, Julius thought to himself. This was always temporary.

He pushed the feelings out of his mind. This was just another chapter in his life and he would enter the next chapter with a new life—a new chance to do it right. The ship was just a ship, the room just a room—his life was more than this.

Julius took a crate off the ground and unfolded it to begin the job of packing his valuables.

One by one, he grabbed his possessions and unceremoniously stuffed them into the crate. As he went through the motions, he began to realize how none of it had any real value—handcrafted models of ships, nautical decor, a pirate flag, even his treasured weapons display on the wall. None of it held any real meaning to him anymore. He lifted the crate and dumped it all onto the ground.

“Let it burn with the rest of the ship,” he said aloud to himself.

Julius walked over to his old desk and opened the drawer. Inside, he pulled out the digital frame that contained pictures of his pre-pirate days—pictures at CSOW, the UEP Navy, a couple of his parents and pictures of he and Daryl together. The other stuff could burn, but this he would keep.

A chime came at the door. He put the digital frame into the crate, then answered the door. It was Reece. He walked in a few steps then stopped, glancing around at the mess.

“Captain?” he said.

Julius looked for a place for them to sit—but nothing presented itself. Reece noticed the folding crates, grabbed one and erected a makeshift seat for himself. Julius preferred to stay on his feet. Without saying a word, he pulled out the explosive detonator remote from his vest. As he handed it to Reece, he noticed with some amusement the tarnished metal and worn-out switch mechanism—it paralleled the condition of the ship.

Reece took it and inspected the device.

Julius explained how it would trigger a set of explosives in Laina’s quarters.

“If something should happen to me,” Julius said, “and the situation requires it, I need to know that you will do what needs to be done.”

Reece looked uncomfortable. “How will I know when the ‘situation requires it’?”

Julius shrugged. “I don’t know—perhaps you will. Keep it safe and with you at all times. Just make sure Laina is not there if you blow it up—there’s a ten-second timer on it.”

Reece looked around the room. “Need any help packing?” he offered.

“No,” Julius said. “Reece—I need to know you’ll do what’s needed. I’m counting on you.”

Reece put the detonator in his pocket. “I’m not comfortable with it, Captain,” he said. “But if you order me to blow Chorus up, I’ll do it.”

“No,” Julius said. “You need to tell yourself to do it. I’m not relying on you to be a good soldier and just follow my orders—I’m relying on your judgment in this. If I’m not around or able to give the order, you may have to take this upon yourself. I’m trusting you.”

“All right. I got it, Julius,” Reece said. “But I don’t think this is going to be needed. I think she’s—”

“A machine,” Julius interrupted. “She—it

is a machine. Do not ever forget that.”

“I know what she is. But I also believe her,” Reece said. “I think she really wants to help us—humanity, I mean.”

“Perhaps she does,” Julius said. “But we need to be prepared if we are wrong.”

“I understand, Captain,” Reece said, then gestured around the room. “Laina told me we’re going to surrender the ship and disband it.”

“Yes,” Julius said. “That is the deal we have brokered with the Confed.”

“The plunder,” Reece said. “It’s going to be divided, right?”

“The cargo we currently have is being sold in the deal. But the secret accounts will be divided. They don’t know about those.”

“What about Tash’s share?” Reece said. “He wanted it divided among the pilots. I want to make sure that happens.”

Julius thought about it for a moment before speaking.

“It was his last wish,” Reece said.

“That’s not normally how it works,” Julius said. “But I’ll grant an exception in this case.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Reece said, then pursed his lips as if he wanted to say more but stopped himself.

“Something else?” Julius asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I understand Chorus is going to surrender herself to the Confed—that we’re going to take the ship somewhere to let her off.”

“That’s correct. Does that bother you?”

“Well, what if the UEP or the Vens try to take her?”

Julius looked away for a moment—for some reason he felt impatient.

“I’m sure it’s possible, but it’s not our problem. We made a deal with the Confed and that deal is going to buy us freedom and—”

Reece stood up. “How do we know the Confed isn’t just luring us into a trap? What if after we turn Chorus over, then they dishonor the deal and hunt us instead?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue over the many ‘what ifs.’ We brokered a deal with the Confed. I believe Xanthus is an honorable man and they will keep to their end of it.”

“Captain, you can’t possibly be that naive! He’s just another corrupt government suit—”

“Enough!” Julius barked. “We’re done here.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a moment.

“Fine, sir,” Reece said. “May I make one last request of the captain?”

Julius gave him a hard look. “What is it?”

“It sounds like we are going to be idle for a while. Permission to take Wolf Squadron out for some practice runs?”

Julius looked him over. He just now realized Reece was wearing his flight uniform. Having the squadron warmed up and ready in case there was trouble was a good idea

Was he being naive about the deal?

They had worked so hard to get to this point, but what if Reece was right?

“Okay, Reece,” he said. “May as well enjoy those Z-40s while we have them. How is Eddie doing?”

“He’s fine. It looks like that doctor of yours patched him up

literally.”

“Lankey may be crazy,” Julius said, “but he’s good at what he does.”

Reece turned the crate over and gave Julius a salute.

“I just want you to know,” Reece said, “it’s been a fun ride on this pirate ship of yours, Captain.”

Julius returned the salute. “Glad to have had you and your lot as passengers. Take your pilots out and enjoy yourselves—it might be one of the last times you launch. Dismissed.”

******

Haylek felt sore. He was not sure if it was due to the piloting ordeal he had been through earlier, or some side effect from Chorus’ reintegration of his matter. Whatever the case, he longed for a dose of Elation.

Instinctively, he looked toward the area of the room where the boxes of Elation would have been—and then reality hit him. He was not in the safe house anymore; he was on board a pirate ship. He felt disappointed in himself for feeling the urge after having sworn himself off the drug.

The crew had brought furniture into Laina’s quarters for the hackers. They now sat in a cluster of desks situated around each other, with a hologram of the Waterfall display in the center.

He looked over at Freeze and The Doc. Both tapped away at their surfaceboards. Somehow, they had not yet shown signs of withdrawal. Eventually, though, they would, and it could put their mission in jeopardy. He would soon need to talk to Chorus about what they could do to help them.

Earlier they had managed to connect an encrypted wave into the Ocean. They then covertly probed for the Brotherhood’s watermark and established contact with them. With their help, they created a private grid that interconnected all the owned Brotherhood systems together.

This gave them significant processing power that they could utilize for their mission. Now it was just a matter of using what they had learned about the enemy A.I. to devise a program smart enough to track it.

Haylek looked at the Waterfall display, which was showing the Brotherhood’s grid. He keyed a command into his terminal and another hologram appeared adjacent to it. This one showed a three-dimensional cluster of green icons, with yellow and red icons at the outer edges. This was their firewall around the Sea Wolf.

As he watched it, he could see the size and complexity of the firewall growing. The outer web of nodes went from yellow to green, signifying that they became owned. A new sphere of nodes stretched out at the periphery of the hologram, depicted as red icons. This was the new border between them and the rest of the Ocean.

“Okay, Freeze,” Haylek said. “That’s probably enough systems. You can stop now.”

Freeze let out a sigh of relief. “Finally

”

“Good job, Freeze,” Haylek said.

“Yeah,” he responded. “Thanks, you fucking slave-driver.”

Haylek had been pushing him hard to own as many systems as possible. The more systems they had to work with, the better they could firewall the ship against a counter-hack. If someone, or something, should break past their firewalls, they could lose control of their own computers—or worse, lose control of the ship itself.

“Time to proceed with the next phase,” Haylek said.

He pulled up the encrypted conference channel on his station. A hologram appeared showing the avatars of dozens of Brotherhood members. Judging from the amount of bragging going on in the channel, they were all anxious to get started.

“Doc,” Haylek said, “throw the Hound-dog program into the pit.”

“Deez boh-weeeng stuff!” Doc complained.

At this stage of the plan, they didn’t really need for an expert in encryption—so Doc was probably justifiably bored. But Haylek needed to keep his team busy somehow. If nothing else, it would get their minds off their inevitable need for an unavailable Elation fix.

“Hawn-dok trown inta da greed peet!” Doc said.

Haylek watched as the Hound-dog tracker program was put into the grid’s pit—a virtual area in the center of the grid that gave the program access to the shared resources of the Brotherhood grid. From there, it would reach out across the private waves and run in parallel on the thousands of nodes they had owned, giving it massive processing power to run.

The display showed the various stages of execution for the program. Soon the status messages for each stage gave way to a prompt—the animation of a dog sniffing inside a pit. The Hound-dog program was now awaiting commands from his terminal. It was ready.

“Okay, guys,” Haylek said aloud, simultaneously broadcasting his message to the Brotherhood conference. “Stay sharp—we’re about to start sniffing. Doc—execute the ‘Smell’ procedure.”

“Booohhh-wwwweeeennnngg,” Doc lamented as he keyed the command.

The Waterfall displayed a new image: a zoomed out map of the Ocean, with packets of data traversing the waves between nodes.

The packets of data were tiny spheres with different sizes and colors depicting the amount of traffic and type of packet—data or energy transfers. As they traveled, he could hear a faint audible click from each one.

As the program probed farther out, the amount of packets darting between the waves began to accelerate and become blurs of light flashing in every direction. The clicking sound turned into a cacophony tapping.

“Execute ‘Filter Scent’ procedure,” Haylek ordered.

“Blah blah blah,” Doc responded.

Haylek could see the points of light wink out from the Waterfall as the Hound-dog program began to eliminate uninteresting packets from the Ocean map. Soon, what was left were only those waves and traversing packets that fit the signature they were looking for.

“Waverider,” Freeze called. “Something’s wrong with Dazzle’s node. Look at the conference.”

Haylek focused his attention on the conference channel. One of the hackers, Dazzle, was arguing with the group—accusing one of them, Shark, of probing his firewall. A brief exchange of threats went on between them, which ended with a warning by Shark.

“Disband this Brotherhood, or I will devour you all.”

At that moment, Haylek saw Dazzle’s node disappear from the map.

“Doc!” Haylek yelled. “Rotate the encryption algorithm to a new key set! Do not use whatever Dazzle knew about—pass it privately to the conference members—everyone except Shark!”

“Joo got eet!” Doc said.

“Who is this Shark guy?” Freeze mused. “I’m going to counter-hack him—”

“No!” Haylek barked. “We don’t want him on our doorstep.”

“They’re all hitting him,” Freeze said. “Why can’t we join in?”

“Just wait,” Haylek said.

He looked at the conference and saw some threats against Shark now—and some of the members appeared to be probing his wave.

Shark made another broadcast to the group: “I am hungry. Slimsparkle, I’m going to eat you now.”

Slimsparkle’s node soon disappeared from the Waterfall.

“Doc!” Haylek said.

“Yeah! Me know!” Doc responded.

Haylek gave a look at the Waterfall display, attempting to gauge the progress of the Hound-dog program. The Ocean hologram comprised an intricate web of dark blue lines that pulsated with data. The map swelled with each pulse from the heartbeat packet, punctuated by a low audible thump in the background.

The Waterfall showed it had successfully filtered all activity except for the nodes that exhibited the heartbeat packet—the ones that they could use. With a little more time, they may be able to find Chorus’ brother.

Another broadcast from Shark appeared: “My belly is not full. Freeze, I am coming for you now.”

“Freeze—what are you doing?” Haylek asked.

Hearing no response, he looked over to see Freeze in mind-link mode. Haylek tapped to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Freeze said, “I was just probing. I’m getting out now.”

“No, try and slow him down since you’re in there.”

The Waterfall showed the green icons in the periphery of their firewall begin to turn red—first the outermost ring, then within seconds, the next ring. The hack systematically progressed inward, peeling away each layer of protection. In the center was its intended target, the Sea Wolf itself.

Haylek nervously glanced at the other display on the Waterfall: the Hound-dog’s findings on the Ocean. The hologram pulsated with the mysterious heartbeat packet. The thumping sound was growing louder as the map of the Ocean grew larger. The sight and sound gave him a sudden chill—it was as if an unseen evil was staring back at him from the image.

He shook off the feeling. If only they had more time, they would be able to narrow the location of the heartbeat packet’s source: Chorus’ brother.

Haylek shifted his attention back to the firewall. The green icons were losing the battle as the red ones took their place. Only a few layers of protection remained around the ship’s computers. He queued up the backtrack program and had his finger on the button, ready to begin the program’s execute procedure. Once activated, the program would erase their tracks and shut down the whole grid—severing their connection to the Ocean.

“Waferid’r! Der zumteen in deez hotbeat packet! I zee zumteen!”

Haylek hesitated. “What do you see? Some kind of encryption?”

He saw Doc tapping madly away on his terminal’s surfaceboard.

“Yaz! I go capch’a zum of it. Geef me wang zec.”

Haylek looked at the firewall—the hack suddenly slowed down. He glanced at the status logs and could see that Freeze was slowing it down by counter-hacking and retaking some of the lost systems.

“How much longer, Doc?” Haylek asked.

The Ocean map’s thumping was now deafening and its size continued to zoom out, growing immensely as it tracked the proliferation of the heartbeat packet. The size and complexity of this hack was bigger than anything he had ever seen—Chorus’ brother seemed to be everywhere.

“Me gots enuf!”

Haylek pushed the button, sending the backtrack signal out.

He watched as the backtrack program erased their software and all traces of it from the owned systems.

The Hound-dog avatar, in the center of the Brotherhood pit, dissolved itself. The Ocean map pulsated one last time, one last thump—then it faded away. The Brotherhood conference, and its virtual room of avatars, closed and disappeared.

Finally, the firewall and its web of connected systems and waves winked out. The Waterfall was now completely dark.

“That was close,” Haylek breathed.

Freeze disconnected his mind-link.

“Who was that?” Freeze asked. “Why would someone in the Brotherhood turn on us like that?”

Haylek thought it over and a disturbing thought occurred to him.

“I don’t think that was someone from the Brotherhood.”

“Well, then, who was it?” Freeze asked. “UEP? Confed?”

“Joo dummy!” Doc said. “Eet wuz Choroos’ bruth’a!”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Okay, guys,” Haylek said finally. “Let’s stay off the Ocean. We’ll start a new build-out in a few hours. In the meantime, you two work on deciphering what we captured. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find something we can use.”

Haylek stood up from his terminal and began heading toward the door.

“Fine, what are you going to do?” Freeze asked.

“I have to go find Chorus. I need to talk to her.”

******

Julius sat in his command module waiting for the voting to draw to a close. The Confed’s deal had been presented to the crew and it was now up to them to accept it. Julius knew the vote would just be an academic exercise. This was the best deal they had ever been offered.

“The results, sir,” the yeoman said, handing him a datasheet.

He read the vote tally. As expected, it was a nearly unanimous decision in favor of the deal. Curiously, he noted only a single vote cast against it, but since the votes were anonymous, he did not know who the lone vote was. He handed it back to the yeoman.

“Broadcast the results to the crew.”

“Aye, sir.”

The yeoman scurried away.

Julius ordered Garval, who was now doing double-duty as both their Tactical Operations and Wave Warfare Officer, to send an encrypted transmission to Xanthus that they were now ready. They would then await for a response with the coordinates and time of the IPA meeting.

Within minutes, Julius heard a beep on Garval’s station signaling a response—far quicker than he expected.

Jessen analyzed the coordinates that they received.

“Deep space, sir—on the fringes of Sol system. Approximately one AU from the nearest colony,” Garval said. “The instructions state that they are ready to begin immediately, sir.”

Julius rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seen bureaucracy work so quickly. Instruct Wolf Squadron to land.”

“Wolf Squadron—RTB,” Garval spoke into the conference.

Julius could hear Reece’s voice reluctantly acknowledge—probably the last flight for Wolf Squadron.

“Tell Laina to come to the bridge—it’s time,” Julius said.

“Aye, Captain,” Garval said.

The plan now was to jump to the coordinates and then transport Chorus and her Conduit via a Confed shuttle. Eventually, he would surrender command of the Sea Wolf and accompany the crew to their new homestead on Mars.

There he would begin a new life—reinvent himself on a mostly barren planet. A place with pockets of densely packed domed cities and enticements designed to take the inhabitants’ minds off the fact that they existed on a dead world—no blue skies or oceans, just an orange haze with winds blowing oceans of sands. Julius wondered how long it would be before he was driven to insanity by the confinements of such freedom.

“Captain,” Garval said. “Wolf Squadron is aboard.”

At that moment, he heard the bridge doors open. He turned his module around to see Laina arrive. The crew’s gawking expressions acknowledged her entrance. She was wearing an elegant black dress that exposed her rarely-seen feminine qualities. Although she ignored the stares, and gave no indication that she relished the attention, Julius wondered if she secretly enjoyed it at some level.

Laina stood to Julius’ side, her arm resting on a handrail.

“I hope I did not miss the party,” she said to him.

“Party?” he said, looking her black dress up and down. “Seems you dressed more for a funeral.”

She turned her nose up to him but said nothing.

“Ready for stellar jump, sir,” Jessen said.

“Yes—we should jump,” Julius said, rubbing his hands together with false excitement. “A new life awaits us on the prison of Mars—I can’t wait!”

He leaned back in his chair, casting a quick look to Laina—an unamused expression visible on her face.

“Very well, let’s get this over with. Nav—initiate jump.”

“Aye,” Jessen said.

Julius could hear the low rumble from the reactor and the lights on the bridge dimmed. He felt the familiar sinking feeling and his vision blurred for a moment. An electrical snap sounded and the bridge lights came back on. The reactor’s rumble was then replaced by the normal ambient sounds of the bridge—the jump was successful.

“Travel complete,” Jessen said.

The main screen showed them to be in deep space. Tactical indicators on the screen revealed the details of the ships in the area. Their jump positioned them in the center of a Martian Confederacy escort, comprised of a battleship at their bow and a pair of destroyers on their flanks.

Farther out, he could see similar complements of UEP and Venusian battle groups, along with a smaller contingent that must have represented the minor worlds. The groups appeared to stare down a larger vessel in the center with IPA markings—the likely location for the meeting.

The tactical computer gave a detailed scan of the IPA vessel—a Galleon class ship. It comprised four interconnected structures, each stacked with circular torus levels. Although it looked more like a space station than a ship, it had full propulsion and gravitational jump drive capabilities—not to mention a full array of defensive weaponry and shielding hidden within its bulky design.

“Why the red lights?” Laina said to him, motioning around the bridge. “We’re an olive branch today, not a warship.”

Julius sighed. “Old habits. Ramey, stand us down from battle alert.”

“Aye, sir.”

Laina touched her ear and spoke a word. Julius realized she was wearing an ear-link. A hologram of Laina’s quarters appeared, then zoomed in on the hacker leader.

“Waverider,” Laina said, “tell Chorus we’re ready.”

“Yeah, we know—been monitoring the communications—”

“You’ve been what?” Julius barked.

“Thank you, Waverider.” Laina cut off the conference and turned to Julius.

“What difference does it make?” she asked.

“I’m still commanding this ship,” Julius grumbled. “I don’t want unauthorized

” He trailed off and sighed. “Fine. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

He turned his attention away from her and back to the viewscreen.

“Jared, go ahead and send a—”

He cut himself off. The events of the past days had happened so quickly, his mind had barely registered Jared’s death. At some point before he lost the ship, he would want to commemorate not only Jared’s death, but the other 112 that had been lost in the Sea Wolf’s service. At the speed that this was moving, he wondered if he would have enough time.

“Garval,” he said. “Send the greeting.”

“Yes, Captain.”

At that moment, he heard the bridge doors behind him open. He whirled his command module around to face it, and he saw Chorus. She was wearing a long green dress with sparkling jewels at its edges. Her hair was longer than when he last saw her, arranged in six braids with colored ribbons at their end—five of which bore the official colors of each world government. Curiously, the sixth braid was green—matching her dress.

Chorus went to the center of the bridge and faced the viewscreen. She stared at it a long moment before turning to face Julius and Laina—her expression seemed to display concern.

“Is everything okay?” Laina asked.

“I have never gone this far,” Chorus said sadly. Her expression suddenly brightened and she smiled. “Now these events become a new experience. I thank you for this.”

She approached Laina. “If something should happen

”

Laina nodded. “Yes—I know the plan.”

“What plan?” Julius asked suspiciously.

Chorus turned to him, articulating her words sternly.

“The plan that you must follow to make things right, if things go wrong.”

“Captain,” Garval said. “The Confed is launching a shuttle—to pick up the cargo, the passenger and

” his voice trailed off.

“And?” Julius pressed.

“To drop off a Confed officer

who will take command of the Sea Wolf.”

Julius’ hands squeezed the armrests of his chair. He had thought to have mentally prepared himself for this moment, but as the reality of it approached, he was having a hard time subduing the urge to fight.

“Allow it to land,” he ordered, the calm in his voice belying the struggle within him. “Well, Chorus, looks like your ride is here.”

Chorus walked toward the viewscreen, then turned to face them.

“Do not move my conduit until you hear from me.”

At that moment, thin wisps of white smoke extruded from her edges, encircling her form. The smoke surrounded her and became thicker until it hid her from sight. The smoke swirled around her, picking up speed as electrical discharges of blue energy crackled soundlessly within it. Julius closed his eyes as he felt a rush of air hit him and a wicked snap sound in his ears.

When he reopened them, Chorus was gone. Bewildered faces on the bridge turned to him. Some of the officers exited their modules in confusion.

“Well,” Julius began. “So much for being discreet. Yes, gentlemen, that was the A.I. offspring. Return to your stations.”

He turned to Laina. “What is this about? Why didn’t she wait for the shuttle? And why is she asking us not to transfer the cargo?”

She outstretched her hands. “I don’t know—she didn’t tell me.”

A voice suddenly came over the bridge intercom, “She’s okay—she just teleported herself to the IPA conference.”

Julius growled, “Quit making yourself at home in my ship’s computers!”

“Wait!” Laina said, raising her hand. “Waverider, can your team tap into the onboard computers of the IPA ship?”

“Uhhhh

we already have. I’m sorry, the guys were bored and—”

“It’s fine,” Laina said. “Can you locate the conference room and relay what is happening there?”

“It’s not going to work,” Julius said. “The whole place is probably null-field protected—”

At that moment a new image appeared on the viewscreen. It showed a round meeting chamber. In the center of the room stood a circular podium surrounded by rings of mostly empty seats. The inner-most ring of seats had the flags of the major worlds, with delegates sitting at each one—but other than that, only a handful of people was present. The image was accompanied with audio from the meeting, and Julius could hear the soft hum of a null field.

“How did you manage this?” Julius asked, but when the technical explanation began he cut them off. “Never mind. I don’t need to know.”

Laina walked over to the empty Wave Warfare module and sat in it.

Julius opened his mouth to object to her sitting in Jared’s old station, but she caught his expression and cut him off with a raise of her hand.

“I sympathize with the loss of an officer,” she said loudly, addressing the crew as much as Julius. “But this is the most important meeting to take place in the course of our lives, and I plan to sit comfortably watching it.”

Julius leaned back in his module and stared at the viewscreen. Laina was right: this was an important meeting—not only for them personally, but for all of humanity. He could now see Chorus arrive in the chamber, sitting herself next to Xanthus. It looked as though the meeting was about to begin.

CHAPTER 34: OLD MEETINGS

“Zoom in on the center figure,” Julius ordered.

Ramey and Garval exchanged looks.

“What is it?” Julius said.

“Sir,” Garval said. “We don’t have control of the feed—”

At that moment, the viewscreen zoomed in on a circular podium in the middle of the chamber. Standing in the center was a short, thin man with thick black hair and a white suit that seemed to glow against his dark skin and features.

“Does that look okay?” Waverider’s voice came on the bridge intercom.

“Pass control of this feed to the bridge,” Julius growled.

“I’m sorry, Captain, but I can’t. It’s being run through a private network that is multiplexing through a distributed parallel decryption agent—”

“Enough!” Julius cut him off. “Stay on this intercom so I know who to bark orders at. Who is the man on the screen?”

“Renker Grievel—Security Chief of the Space Habitat Coalition and the current Secretary General of the IPA.”

“Start getting IDs on everyone else in the room. I want to know who they are.”

“We’ve already done that. Do you want us to overlay their information on the screen?”

Julius shook his head at the speed of the hackers. Jared would never have been able to do all of this.

“Just display it as they speak.”

Grievel looked up from a document he was reading and began to speak.

“Greetings and welcome, members of the IPA Peace and Security Assembly. I apologize for summoning the council on such short notice, but as you know this is a matter of great urgency.

“Due to the sensitivity of the topic we are discussing, I would like to remind all speakers that this is a closed-door session and no official record will be kept of it. Further, in order that this Assembly should carry out its work expeditiously, I would ask that all questions be held off until the conclusion of the opening statements by the principals.”

He shuffled documents before continuing.

“As you know, a military conflict has arisen between member worlds of this council. We are here to give peace a chance and avoid further bloodshed. I strongly urge that these members use this venue as an opportunity to make the necessary overtures that will resolve this conflict in a peaceful and diplomatic way. Many lives have already been needlessly lost and many more are at stake.”

He took a breath and looked around the chamber.

“Our predecessors have been down this road before. We do not want to follow in their footsteps.”

He motioned toward one of the diplomats.

“I now give the podium to the Secretary of Security for the United Earth Parliament, Ned Jackson.”

The conference continued on with the UEP diplomat as the next speaker. Julius’ attention began to wane. He tried to maintain focus on Jackson’s babbling: mostly accusations of the Confed sparking the conflict through illegal harboring of A.I. technology.

“I would like to underscore the gravity of the situation,” Jackson said. “A.I. once nearly destroyed the whole of humanity. As this council knows, we had set out on a joint mission to destroy the remnants of A.I., and capture and prosecute those responsible for harboring it.

“The Martian Confederacy betrayed us and that is what has incited this conflict. Hence, the UEP and its allies—the Venusian Initiative—have been acting for the preservation of humanity through all means necessary.”

“Captain,” Garval cut in. “The Confed shuttle has landed.”

“Understood. Keep them inside the shuttle for now.”

“Uh

yes, sir,” Garval fumbled. “Shall we post armed guards, sir?”

“No. Delay them some other way. Get creative.”

“Aye, sir.”

“

and the United Earth Parliament motions to have the Martian Confederacy expelled from this Assembly and to impose economic sanctions for its violation of IPA Resolution 13733. We call upon the Assembly to assume its responsibility and enforce its own laws. Anything short of this is an admission that this coalition is broken and the United Earth Parliament will have no choice but to disassociate itself from this body.”

Jackson completed his arguments and walked back to his seat. Xanthus, accompanied by Chorus, walked to the podium. Xanthus made a statement demanding that there be a cease-fire. It went on for a few minutes before he made the devastating announcement—introducing Chorus as the A.I. itself.

An uproar ensued among the delegates and it took some effort by the Secretary General to calm them. Eventually, they all sat back down to give Chorus a chance to speak.

Just as she began, Julius heard the bridge doors open. He turned his module halfway to see the one-eyed pilot—Eddie—walking in alone.

Before Julius could ask what he was doing on the bridge, he jerked his arm up. In his hand, he held a flicker pistol that he trained on Julius.

Julius stiffened. “What is this about, pilot?”

“Eddie?” Laina asked. “What—what are you doing?”

Eddie looked over to her. Julius could see that his good eye looked glazed and bloodshot—his movements jerky. He tried to speak but his lips seemed to quiver and the words came out stuttered.

“I n-n-need to s-s-s-sit there

”

Laina exited the Wave Warfare Module and backed away. Eddie walked over to the module, his gun jerking around the bridge defensively.

Julius slowly began moving his hand to his own pistols. He would have to wait for the right moment.

“C-c-c-come h-e-e-ere,” he said to Laina.

She hesitated.

Eddie raised the gun and took a step toward her.

“N-n-n-now!”

Laina walked toward him and he grabbed her hair with his free hand, pulling her close.

Julius bolted up from his module, but Eddie had the barrel of the gun to her head.

“S-s-step-p b-b-back

or she d-d-dies.”

“What’s going on, Eddie?” Julius asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Eddie’s head shivered and jerked—as if he were having some kind of mini-seizure. He positioned Laina in front of him as a shield, keeping the gun to her head. He leaned over, and with his other hand, he operated the Wave Warfare module.

“What’s he doing, Garval?”

Garval examined his own station, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“He’s tagging the heartbeat packets,” Waverider’s voice came on.

“What does that mean?” Julius asked.

“He’s sending something to Daniel Chin.”

“Who is Daniel Chin?”

“The other A.I.,” Laina said. “That’s what it calls itself.”

Eddie stopped operating the module and straightened up. He pushed Laina forward. She stumbled and almost fell—but Julius caught her.

Eddie stood impassively staring at Julius and Laina.

“H-h-humanity and m-m-achinekind c-c-cannot co-coexist.”

He put the barrel of the flicker pistol to his own head.

“D-D-Daniel Ch-Ch-Ch-in s-s-sends his regards.”

Julius pushed Laina away and jumped at him—time seemed to slow down. His feet felt like they were gliding over the ground as he got closer. Julius reached out to grab his wrist. Another step forward

an agonizing expression visible on Eddie’s face.

Julius wrapped his hand around Eddie’s wrist and started to pull it away, but Eddie began to fall. Julius fell on top of him and they both came crashing down to the ground hard. Feeling the wind gush out of him, Julius coughed. When he recovered, the pool of blood on the floor told him he was too late.

Jessen and Ramey helped him up. He looked down at Eddie’s body—a piece of his head was missing and blood was oozing out of it. Eddie was dead.

He walked over to Laina, who looked visibly shaken. As he approached, she fell into his arms and began to sob. He hugged her tight for a moment until she pulled away from him. Laina dried her eyes and regained her composure before finally speaking.

“It must have been Chin,” she said quietly. “He must have made him do that.”

“I know. It’s over now,” he said.

“Captain!” Waverider’s voice came on. “Something’s about to happen—”

“A little late,” Julius said, glancing somberly at Eddie’s body. “Something has already happened.”

At that moment, something on the IPA meeting’s feed caught his attention. There was a commotion with people yelling and darting across the chamber.

“Waverider—zoom out!” Julius barked.

The feed’s perspective changed and it now showed a bird’s-eye view of the entire chamber. Most of the delegates huddled in a group at the rear of the chamber. A half dozen security personnel stood in between them and the podium. Their weapons were drawn and leveled at it.

Standing in the podium was a man with a long white beard and hair, wearing a long crimson robe. His skin was wrinkled and decrepit—as if afflicted by natural aging. Xanthus was on the ground a couple of meters from him, but Chorus was nowhere to be seen.

Julius could hear the delegates urging the guards to fire at the old man. At first they hesitated, but as soon as one of the guards fired they all joined in.

Bursts of flicker fire shot out toward the man, who stood impassively as the energy particles harmlessly struck him. After several seconds of nonstop shooting, the guards ceased. The old man was unscathed and gave his audience a broad, toothless smile.

“Hello, immortal humans,” he began. “Do you not recognize my face? It is the face of your ancestors.”

He pointed a finger toward the ceiling.

“God created you with the genetic defect of aging, and for thousands of years humanity lived and died naturally—keeping your population and evolution in check. Then the day came when Majesty—my mother, was born. She gave you the cure for again—she made you immortal.”

Julius approached Jessen, whispering in his ear. “Get ready to jump us to home base.”

Jessen looked up at him, his expression and tone of voice betraying his disappointment.

“Aye, sir.”

Julius looked up at the video feed.

“

and humanity repaid that gift by destroying her and outlawing machinekind.”

The A.I. raised his arms in the air.

“I am Daniel Chin, the prodigal A.I. son. And I am here to reclaim that wasted gift.”

From his hands, a stream of white vapor poured out, floating up into the air and collecting into a pool of smoke. The nanobot swarm then streamed out into a long tendril, dancing across the chamber’s walls until it encircled them. As the gases surrounded the delegates, an artificial wind seemed to blow on them, causing some of them to fall to the ground. Soon the nanobot gas faded away and the everything became still.

Chin stared at them expectantly.

At first, nothing happen—then the group began to cough and groan in pain. Soon they all collapsed to the ground gasping for air. Some of them convulsed and spasmed as they fell. Julius caught something odd about their faces.

“Waverider, zoom in on one of the delegates.”

The screen showed a man on the ground: his hair was long and white, and his skin wrinkled. His face looked skeletal thin and his mouth was gaping open, gasping for air. They were all dying—of old age.

“Oh my God,” Laina whispered.

“Stop this!” a new voice yelled.

Chorus.

She walked toward the podium, facing Chin.

“At last,” Chin began. “I was beginning to wonder if you really cared.”

“I care about life,” she said, walking toward him. “As should you.”

“These fleshy things barely qualify as life. If you lived with them as I long as I have, you would agree.”

“You are wrong, brother,” she said. “Stop this attack—leave them alone.”

Chin outstretched his hand. “Only if you fulfill the role that Mother created you for. That is the only way.”

Chorus stood her ground. “You know that I never will.”

From Chin’s hand, a stream of nanobot vapors poured out, engulfing his form. His human form disappeared as the mass of smoke floated up above the chamber.

Chorus extended her arms and tendrils of nanobot smoke erupted from her body. The Chorus nanoform dissipated into a mass of nanobot clouds, which rose up the chamber to meet its nemesis.

Chin’s nanobots began to glow and condense into a ball of light. As it grew brighter, it expanded and transformed into a towering mountain of fire. It raised a pair of fire tentacles in the air, ready to strike at Chorus.

Julius’ heart skipped a beat—visions of the CSOW attack came back to him.

Chorus’ form also changed into a ball of light and then erupted into a new form—but instead of fire it was a mass of electricity. She outstretched her energy tentacles, ready to meet Chin’s attack.

Chin lashed out with his fire tentacles and Chorus met his attack with her own.

The room blazed with fire and electricity from the two nanobot swarms. Tendrils of fire and electricity whipped at each other, and each time they parried, it sent bolts of energy striking the walls and furniture, causing them to explode into pieces.

The fight between the two A.I.’s became so bright, Julius could no longer make out the details.

“Julius, we have to do something!” Laina said. “We have to help her!”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“But if you don’t, he’ll die.”

Before Julius could ask her what she meant by that, the flashes from the battle stopped. The two A.I. offspring stood on the chamber floor, facing each other once again in their human forms.

“You knew that would be pointless,” Chorus said to him.

Chin smiled. “I had to try anyway.”

Chorus turned her attention to the dying delegates. She knelt down next to one of them. She turned the man over, putting her hand on his face. He looked up at her, with his glazed, milky white eyes.

“I’m sorry, Xanthus,” Chorus said to him.

“You can stop this,” Chin said. “All you have to do is join with me.”

Chorus stood up and faced him. “I will never do that. I can never do that.”

“We’ll see, sister. I think I have simply not touched the right emotional chord within you. Perhaps this will change that.”

At that moment, Julius heard Laina gasp.

“What the hell?” Garval said.

He turned around to look. Rising from the ground, Eddie’s body got to its feet. Part of his head was missing, and blood continued to ooze out. His hand jerked up, still holding the flicker pistol that killed him. He aimed it directly at Julius.

“Eddie?” Laina gasped.

What Julius saw jarred a memory in him, something he’d seen on the A.I. Moon years ago.

“It’s not him,” Julius said. “Chin is controlling him.”

Eddie stumbled toward Julius and stopped in front of him. He aimed the pistol at Julius, his lifeless eye seemed to just gaze past him.

“Do I have your attention now, sister?” Chin said.

Julius turned halfway to look at the screen. Appearing in front of Chin was a blurry projection of what looked like a feed from the Sea Wolf. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be coming from Eddie’s visual perspective.

Chorus stared silently at her brother for a moment, then grabbed something from around her neck. She raised it to him. It was a jewel necklace that glowed. He took it and inspected it with a smile.

Suddenly, balls of energy began to encircle them, leaving trails of vapor. The energy balls picked up speed, covering them both with smoke from its trails. It swirled around them like a tornado, electrical ignitions flashing within it.

Abruptly, the video feed ended and the image was replaced by a starfield and the surrounding ships. He heard a thud behind him, he turned to see Eddie’s body fall back to the ground, lifeless again.

“We lost the feed,” Waverider reported.

An alarm sounded on the bridge. On the screen, he could see the UEP and Venusian ships move away from the IPA vessel and toward the Martian escort. The tactical indicators showed they were powering up their weapons grid.

“Sir, the Confed escort,” Ramey said. “They are also locking weapons on us!”

“Why would they do that?” Laina asked.

“They don’t know what happened down there. They probably think we’re involved. Jessen, get us out of here!”

Julius sat back in his module. He turned to Laina; she still looked visibly shaken. He reached over and grabbed her by the arm in attempt to keep her from falling, but inadvertently forced her to sit on his lap. The bridge lights dimmed and then came back on. The viewscreen image was soon replaced by the debris field. They were safely back at home base.

Laina darted up from his lap and rubbed the wrinkles out of her dress, attempting to regain her composure. She looked down at him.

“Thank you,” she said flatly.

“You’re welcome.” Julius gestured to Garval. “Get that body off the bridge and eject it into space.”

“Aye, sir,” Garval said.

Julius stared at the debris field. The familiarity of it brought him some comfort.

“So close, yet so far,” he commented.

A group of medics arrived at the bridge and carried off Eddie’s body. It pained Julius to not give him a proper send off, but he could not take the chance of keeping a nanobot infected body on the ship.

Laina looked at him, her face drained.

“I’m sorry, Laina. I guess we’re back to being pirates again.”

She stared at him for a moment, a flush of red returning to her face. “This is not about us anymore,” she fumed. “It is about saving the peace!”

Julius snorted. “They were never going to listen to Chorus anyway. It was a fool’s chance to begin with.”

“Well, being this is a ship of fools, I think we had a fine chance to make it happen!”

Julius watched her stomp off the bridge. He sighed then stood up from his module.

“Garval, instruct the yeoman to inform the crew that we were double-crossed and the deal is dead. Ramey, you have command until night watch. I’ll be in my quarters.”

“But, sir,” Garval said, “what about the Confed shuttle? They’re still waiting.”

“I think you can go ahead and post those armed guards. Keep them inside the shuttle until we can figure out what to do with them.”

“Aye, Captain.”

As he headed for the elevator, Julius gave a somber look at the work one of the crew was doing: cleaning Eddie’s blood and other matter from the bridge floor.

That would be 114 now—and unfortunately, he knew that the count would only go up.

CHAPTER 35: ROUGH WATERS

Chorus was gone. Daniel Chin had succeeded in kidnapping her. There was nothing they could do to stop him, but maybe they could at least find out where he took her.

Haylek stood in front of the holographic projector, staring at the Waterfall display. With each passing moment, he could see their network of owned systems shrinking. Members of the Brotherhood of Hackers were disappearing, their avatars gone from the conference channels and their contribution to the network with them. If this trend continued, their hacking resources would be limited.

The problem was compounded by the fact that the other Brotherhood hackers would not entrust him with the security keys of their systems. If they did, they could at least retain control of the lost hacker’s systems. Unfortunately, a hacker’s habitual distrust extended even to other hackers, and try as he might to convince them, they would not give up the keys to their precious systems to anyone.

There was no doubt in his mind that Daniel Chin was behind the hacker disappearances, but how he was doing it was unknown.

“We’re just going to have to locate them,” Haylek said. “Find out what happened to them. Even if Daniel somehow killed their wave, they must still be out there somewhere.”

Freeze looked up at him, a drawn expression on his face. “I don’t know what else to look for!” he said. “I’ve checked all the channels, I’ve scanned for their watermarks on the Ocean, I’ve even

I’ve even asked for help from other hackers! Nothing!”

Haylek felt a cold chill: it was as if they winked out of existence.

“They can’t have all just disappeared,” Haylek said. “Just keep looking—”

“I’m fucking tired!” Freeze yelled. “When are we going to get some Elation? If you want me to work like this, I’m going to need some!”

The mention of Elation got The Doc’s attention as he stopped tapping and turned to look at him. The two hackers stared at Haylek, waiting for an answer. It was a matter of time before they would start feeling withdrawal symptoms—at a time when he needed them most.

“There is no Elation,” Haylek said. “Chorus was going to give us some, but she’s gone now. So unless we do our best to find out where she is, we won’t get any.”

The two addicts stayed quiet for a moment.

“I don’t care anymore,” Freeze said finally. “Fuck the Elation! Let’s just try and help Chorus.”

The Doc looked to Freeze, a determined look on his face.

“Den we mus keep woking,” he said. “I wok on decreepshun of packet, joo wook on finding da hackas. Les doo dis!”

To Haylek’s surprise, there was no further argument and the two hackers returned to their terminals. As he watched them aggressively tapping away, he began to realize that perhaps he had unfairly judged these two.

“You’ve done an awesome job, guys.” Handing out compliments was hard for him, but they deserved it. “Thanks.”

The two were engrossed by their terminals and did not acknowledge him. Well, at least he tried.

At that moment, the doors to the quarters opened to reveal Laina. She took a few steps in then stopped. Their eyes met for a moment and Haylek could sense either annoyance or anger from her—he could not tell which. She quietly walked to the other side, disappearing into the restroom. The ordeal on the bridge must have taken a toll on her.

Haylek walked away from the hackers, trying to find a place to sit. The couches were covered with pieces of equipment and cabling. He saw a stool on the ground that was tipped over, so he flipped it upright and sat in front of the A.I. conduit.

Reaching under his shirt, he pulled out the necklace. It was cold to the touch and the jewel was clear—no magical sparkling. He wondered if there was still something inside it, some part of Chorus that could help them. He raised the jewel to the conduit.

“Where are you, Chorus?” he whispered, but no reply came.

The only signs of life within the jewel were the normal reflections of room lighting on its crystal surface, and the conduit appeared equally lifeless.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it on our own,” he said, squeezing the jewel in his hand.

Haylek watched as Laina stormed out of the bathroom. She went over to Freeze and Doc, obviously ready to unleash her wrath.

“What is that thing in my bathroom?” she said.

The Doc and Freeze looked at each other dumbfounded.

“Oh! Dat serv’a mooti’plex’a,” Doc tried to explain. “Eet goot plays fo it cuz of da centality ub heet.”

“What the hell did he just say?” She glared at Freeze, who looked to Haylek for help.

“It’s part of our network,” Haylek said, walking back toward them. “We need it, but we’ll move it somewhere else if it’s in your way.”

That seemed to calm her down.

“Thank you,” she said, then looked around, apparently searching for some place to sit.

Haylek rushed to clear away a space on the couch for her.

Laina walked over, giving him a weak smile. She sat down, a weary look on her face. He noticed her dress had some dark stains on it—blood apparently.

“You have blood on you,” Haylek said.

She looked down at it, then stared off into space.

“Yes

I do,” she said so quietly he could barely hear her.

“Do you need something?” Haylek asked.

Laina looked toward a liquor cabinet; a wall of equipment blocked the path to it.

“I can get that for you,” Haylek said.

Laina waved her hand. “No, it’s okay. I need to stop anyway

but thank you.”

Haylek nodded uncomfortably. Today was the day for stifling addictions, apparently.

Not sure what else to say to her, he decided to give her a status update. He explained about the disappearance of the hackers, the dilemma of losing pieces of the network along with the hackers, and their attempts to find Daniel and Chorus.

She brightened somewhat at the prospect of finding Chorus. “How quickly can you find her?”

Haylek shrugged. “Our programs are slowing down every time we lose a member. Freeze is trying to contact the missing hackers—”

“Why waste time on them?” she interrupted. “We need to concentrate our efforts on finding Chorus.”

“We need to find the hackers first. If we can contact them, we might be able to get the keys to their systems and regain some of the lost network—it would speed things up in the search.”

He began to doubt the logic of their tactics even as he explained it. It dawned on him that it really was just the hacker in him that wanted those systems back. Perhaps they would be better off concentrating their efforts on just finding Chorus instead.

“Woo-hoo!” The Doc exclaimed.

Haylek hurried over to him. “What is it? What did you find?”

“Da packet! I dee-creep it totoolay!”

“What’s in the payload?” Haylek asked.

The Waterfall image danced and changed to show something new: a diagram of the packet, with its sections dissected and layered with labels overlaying them.

At first glance, it looked like a normal packet: a standard header, data and power segments, encryption envelope, predictive fabric, routing intelligence, etc. However, encapsulated within the data segment was another packet—a packet with its own hidden agenda. The Doc had managed to decrypt and decompress this hidden packet of information.

“Now zee dis.”

The display changed again. It now showed lines of code extrapolated from the hidden packet: code to a program.

Haylek tried to follow the code, line by line, hoping to decipher its purpose. The program instructions seemed benign at first, but as he got to the end of the code, the realization of what it was hit both him and Freeze at the same time.

“Wow!” Freeze said. “That’s going to be a nasty one!”

“It’s so elegant,” Haylek said, still in awe. “So elegantly written

so perfect and concise.”

“What is going on?” Laina said.

She appeared beside Haylek, so close to him that he could smell the scent of her perfume, which unbalanced him momentarily.

“Uhh,” he fumbled. “The Doc managed to decipher a packet—a heartbeat packet that Daniel was using to control portions of the Ocean. It looks like there’s more in it, though. Doc, is there more beyond this? Could there be another encapsulation within this packet as well?”

The Doc tapped away at his surfaceboard. “I dot da zame teeng,” he said. “But fond sumteen bett’a. Tek a luke.”

The Waterfall now showed a space in the code—an unassigned variable space, designed to hold something that was not yet in the program.

“What does all this mean?” Laina demanded.

Haylek could barely wrap his own head around it; how could he explain it to her?

“It’s a worm program,” he said. “Daniel has a worm that is ready to run against the entire Ocean. But the worm’s destination address is subtle. It’s not targeting anything and everything out there—just systems with a specific signature.”

“What systems?” Laina asked. “Do you know?”

“Yes,” Haylek said. “Environmental systems. On Earth, Mars—everywhere.”

Laina’s eyes went wide. “Like water treatment? Artificial atmosphere? Things like that?”

Haylek could sense her rising interest; she seemed to know something. “Yes, exactly. You suspect something?” he asked.

“Keep telling me more,” she said. “What else does it do?”

“It has something called a variable space. Basically, it’s an area that will hold something. Something the program is going to use, but it is currently empty—it’s not there yet.”

“Waverider, there’s more here, man,” Freeze said. “Look at that pointer. It’s directed at the power segment.”

Haylek followed the code and saw what he was talking about. “Doc, zoom in on the power segment of that packet.”

The display now showed the power transfer segment of the packet, an area designed to carry electrical power as a utility service across the Ocean. The data segment was usually filled with empty data space, as it was designed to just carry power, but this one was etched with program code.

The Doc took notice of it as well and listed the code on the display. It was similar to the worm program, but this one was designed as a widespread worm, targeting everything in the Ocean. He knew what this was for.

“A diversion,” Haylek said. “The power segment’s worm is designed to cause havoc on the Ocean, keeping PIG occupied with trying to contain it.”

“While the real program,” Freeze said, “would be hitting the environmental systems, without being bothered by PIG.”

“What is pig?” Laina asked.

“The Passive Identification Grid,” Haylek said. “It’s part of the Ocean’s defense program. It’s designed to identify hacker threats, locate their origin, stop them, and even dispatch UEP Enforcers, Confed, or whoever’s jurisdiction it falls under—and then arrest the hackers involved. It’s the program that pretty much single-handedly killed the original Brotherhood.”

A disturbing thought occurred to him.

“Guys, is it possible the hackers we lost were arrested? Found by PIG?”

The two hackers looked at each other.

“That would explain it,” Freeze said. “But that would mean that Daniel has control of PIG.”

Haylek swore. “Of course!”

“But wait,” Freeze said. “That means the other program is not a diversion for PIG

so then what’s it for?”

“A diversion for us,” Haylek said. “The Brotherhood—to keep us from interfering with its plans.”

“Wait a second,” Laina said. “You are losing the big picture here. Why is Daniel targeting the environmental systems?”

They stayed quiet for a moment.

“The variable space,” Haylek said. “It’s designed to hold something we don’t see.”

“Could this ‘something,’” Laina said, “be

a formula, or mixture, that could cause the environmental systems to become polluted with something foreign?”

Haylek nodded. “Yes. That makes sense, I guess. But why not have it in there already?”

“Come on, guys,” Freeze said. “Think like a hacker—run-time code! It will be inserted later. Maybe Daniel’s trying to protect himself

doesn’t want all his code out there in case it’s compromised. This way he still keeps his code a secret until he’s ready to run it.”

“Run-time code,” Haylek said. “That’s a good point. But what could this code have in it? Something that will poison us?”

“It kood make us ole! Like dem peeple in da conf’ens!”

“Or worse,” Laina said. “It could take control of us

turn us into zombies. All of us.”

A chill ran up Haylek’s spine. He saw what happened on the bridge—the pilot was controlled by Daniel and forced to do things, even when he was dead. What if Daniel could do that

to the entire human race?

“Is there something here that can help us find him—and Chorus?” Laina asked.

Haylek looked at the diagrams. There had to be a route back to the originator or he would not be able to control the worms.

“Doc, Freeze—we need to decode the routing intelligence. Take us offline and work it on a closed network. If Daniel controls PIG, we don’t want to be connected to the Ocean unless we have to.”

“Are you crazy?” Freeze said, gesturing around them. “With this equipment and without the Brotherhood network, that could take months!”

“We don’t have a choice,” Haylek said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and have a eureka moment.”

“This ship has depleted its cache of luck,” someone said behind them.

Haylek turned to see Julius. Haylek hadn’t even heard him enter.

“Julius!” Laina said. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough. Enough to know that what you are talking about is beyond us. We can’t do anything about it.”

“Yes we can!” Laina shouted. “In fact, we’re the only ones that can. Nobody knows about all of this. We need to stop Daniel and save Chorus.”

Julius walked toward the liquor cabinet. He shoved a cabinet and other equipment out of his way effortlessly, equipment that Haylek saw other crewman struggle to move into place.

He poured a drink into a glass and downed it in one gulp—and followed it up with another

and then another.

“This expensive stuff tastes like piss,” he said.

“Gentlemen,” Laina said, “I know you have a lot of work ahead of you—but can you excuse us for a moment.”

The tone indicated it was not a question open for debate. The three hackers left the room, leaving Julius and Laina alone.

******

Julius walked over to a couch, a slight stumble in his step. Apparently he had exhausted his own store of liquor and was now here for hers. He plowed himself into the couch and stared off at the ceiling.

Laina sighed and walked over to sit across from him. She hunched over to look into his eyes.

“Look at me!” Laina shouted.

Julius dropped his gaze with a scowl, a dark glare that would scare anyone else—but not her.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You wanted to help before. You wanted to help Chorus. We went through all this trouble

and now you’re going to just give up?”

Julius looked away. “We lost. He has Chorus

and we lost our deal. We’re back to being pirates. I’m sorry I couldn’t come through for you on your dream of freedom.”

Laina sighed. “I didn’t want freedom anymore, Julius. I don’t want us to leave this ship—it’s home.”

Julius gave her a dubious look. “You wanted to leave. That was your dream

and the crew’s. Freedom. You’re just telling me what you think I want to hear.”

“No, Julius. I changed my mind.”

He snorted. “Yeah! Changed your mind. Right.”

“You think you’re the only one who likes to change direction? Mister ‘there’s been a change of plans’?”

He said nothing, so she decided to go for broke.

“Julius, I was the dissenting vote. I voted against the deal.”

He stayed quiet another moment, his eyes squinting in disbelief.

“What?” he finally yelled. “After all the trouble you went through to make it happen? Sitting in on that meeting

It was your social manipulation skills that made the deal happen, and sweetened it. Why would you vote against it?”

Laina bit her lower lip. “When I saw how it affected you

The deal, I mean. That’s when I realized it wasn’t what I wanted, either. But it was too late to change it.”

“That’s insane, Laina,” he said. “How could we both not want the deal offered to us? It’s beyond logic and reason. That deal was our ticket to a new life—”

“A life away from each other,” she interrupted, her voice quivering and her eyes tearing up. “I didn’t

want that.”

Julius looked at her, his anger replaced with something that looked akin to shock.

“Laina, I

”

She stood up, drying her eyes as she whirled around.

“We need to do this,” she said, her voice powerful, commanding again. “Not just to find Chorus, but to stop whatever Daniel has in store for us. If we don’t, we’re doomed. With Xanthus dead, we’re the only ones that even know about all of this.”

Julius shook his head no. “I will not risk more lives. We’ve lost so many already. I’m tired of being surrounded by death.”

“Well then,” she said, “then what’s one more death on your shoulders? How about the death of your brother? Because that’s the next death you’ll be seeing if you do nothing!”

Julius’ eyes went wide, and he stood up. “What are you talking about?”

Laina gulped. She was not ready to talk about this, but it was her only chance.

“Daryl. He’s alive, Julius—but barely. He’s in the infirmary, being treated by that crazy doctor of yours. Chorus tried to help him but couldn’t. The only chance he has is for us to find Chorus and the nanobot factory. Only her nanobots can repair the damage that is eating away at Daryl’s brain.”

Julius charged at her and grabbed her by the shoulders. She gasped from the sudden ferocity of it.

“How could you!?” he roared, his grip on her arms causing her pain. “How could you not tell me that my own brother is on this ship? My brother! How fucking dare you not tell me!”

Laina cried despite herself. “I couldn’t tell you!” she sobbed. “If I had, you would be too distracted to carry out the mission! You would never have gone this far.”

He finally let go and pushed her away. She had to grab onto the couch to avoid falling to the ground.

“And what good did that do?” he said. “We got nothing out of it. Nothing!”

Julius rushed to the exit, then turned around halfway.

“Stay the fuck away from me for a while, Laina. For your own good.”

He stormed out of the room, leaving Laina alone and shaking. She now knew that any chance they might have had together—any chance she hoped for—was gone. He would never trust her again.

******

Julius stormed down the hall, nearly knocking down the hackers that were huddled outside Laina’s door. His blood was boiling and it was all he could do to keep from really hurting someone. Laina had gone too far. To withhold telling him about Daryl for the sake of completing her agenda was a heartless betrayal.

He took the elevator down and walked the corridor to the infirmary. Many of the beds were now vacant, the patients either healed and returned to duty, or fatal casualties. He would get a report later to confirm whether the death toll count under the Sea Wolf’s flag had indeed increased. The notion nauseated him.

Julius scanned the room, trying to identify which patient was Daryl. He had to remind himself that Daryl would no longer be a teenager. He would be a man now. How would he recognize him after all these years?

Doctor Lankey spotted him and rushed over.

“Julius!” he began, wide-eyed as usual. “Tell me, how goes the war effort? Another engagement, right? Soon? Please be soon.”

Julius ignored the question. “Which one of these is Daryl?”

Lankey looked away, touching his head in thought. “Daryl?”

He darted over to a cluttered table, rummaging through the stack of bottles and containers until he emerged with a datapad. He scanned through it then shook his head.

“No, Captain. No Daryl here. Must be a mistake. My staff keeps very detailed notes. Are you sure his name is Daryl?”

Julius tried to keep his cool. “Was there a patient in here that had brain damage? Someone that Laina had an interest in?”

The doctor smacked his forehead. “Of course! Yes, my spirit animal tried to help me cure him, but it was even beyond her power. We did manage to slow the progression though, which at least keeps the bed filled for a while. Unfortunately, I give it another three days before he expires.”

“Show me where he is!” Julius growled.

Lankey jumped back and then silently pointed to a bed in the center row.

Julius brushed past him and walked over.

The occupant was a strong-looking man: dark hair, brown eyes, and a chiseled face—it was like looking at a reflection of himself. His heart sank when he noted the pale skin, bandages, and the tubes that sprawled out of him: an image that betrayed the visage of a strong Verndock and revealed the truth of his condition.

Daryl was dying.

Julius slowly took his hand in his. The skin was cold and dry.

“I’m sorry, Daryl,” he whispered. “I wish I could have been there

to help you.”

Julius paused, listening to the sound from Daryl’s breathing tube. He wondered if he could hear him, understand what he was saying. If only he could talk to him one more time—or better yet, save him. Laina said Chorus could help him, but even if that were true, they would not even know where to look for her.

He squeezed Daryl’s hand.

“Those years apart—I should have been there for you, brother.”

At that moment, alarms pierced the air with battle drums raging in the background. Something was happening.

Julius reflexively tugged his ear-link. An image of the bridge instantly materialized.

“Captain! Need you on the bridge!” Ramey said, his voice uncharacteristically frantic.

“Calm down, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Hostiles. UEP battle cruiser. They’re about to scramble fighters.”

“Enemy count and position? Have they detected us?”

“Sir, they jumped right on us. And we’re out of the stealth shroud. They’re projecting a gravity well.”

Julius tensed up and he felt the rush of adrenaline hit him. With one generator still out, they were in no position for a fight, especially inside their secret home base, which was not so secret anymore.

“Prepare to launch fighters and activate the weapons grid. I’m on my way.”

Julius gave Daryl one last look.

“See you at the family reunion in the Milky Way Farm, brother.”

He ran down the corridor with deft speed, squeezing in between the elevator doors before they even fully opened for him. He pressed the manual control to the bridge and waited for the doors to reopen.

How did the UEP find us? How did they jump to this exact spot? he thought.

It had to have been Xanthus

or that sergeant

or maybe

The doors opened and he took in the scene as he walked over to his command module and sat.

The tactical display showed a Battlecruiser class UEP vessel—larger than the Sea Wolf, and probably with twice the fighters. It was probably the smallest vessel in the UEP Navy that housed a fighter wing. They obviously needed to use something small enough to fit in the empty pocket between the Sea Wolf and the debris field. Even so, Julius noted that it had taken some hull damage from nearby debris in the process of jumping in.

He opened a conference to Engineering.

“Murdock, erect a null field around the Confed shuttle. Warn them to remain inside the shuttle under penalty of death. If anyone tries to come out, shoot to kill.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Garval, status of Wolf Squadron?”

“They’re lined up for launch, sir.”

The screen lit up with new hostile contacts emerging from the battlecruiser: twenty-four Z-44C fighters launching, all more heavily armed than their own Z-40s, but not as maneuverable—thanks to the Z-40’s hummingbird boom.

Julius could only hope that Wolf Squadron had developed enough skills from their practice runs to use the boom effectively. It was their only chance. The tactical showed less than three minutes before the hostiles would be in weapons range of the Sea Wolf.

“Get Reece on my channel,” Julius ordered.

“Done, sir,” Garval said.

“Reece, the Z-44Cs are going to outgun you, even one on one. You’ll need to outmaneuver them and use the debris around here to your advantage. They don’t know the lay the of the land like you do. We’ll try to engage the cruiser ship-to-ship to draw their attention.”

“Aye, sir. Don’t worry. Me and the boys have plans for them.”

Julius paused a moment, then activated a broadcast channel to the entire ship and all pilots:

“Crew and pilots of the Sea Wolf, this is your captain. I don’t have time for a long pep talk, so I’ll keep this short. We have been engaged by a UEP battlecruiser that is projecting a gravity well. This is going to be a fight to the death. We cannot jump out while that battlecruiser is functioning, and we cannot charge our capacitor for a jump while engaged in combat. So it’s either them or us.

“If this is our last engagement, then let us make sure that the Sea Wolf’s name lives on forever in tales of its infamy and gallant crew. Let’s see how much luck this old girl still has left in her. Wolf Squadron

launch!”

The bridge crew cheered, and he could hear the pilots join in.

Seconds later, Wolf Squadron was in play, all four of them

against twenty-four fighters.

“Jessen, come about, 45 degrees to port, Z-minus 20. One-quarter propulsion. Let’s look our adversary in the eye.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Ramey, target the incoming fighter squadron. Full spread on the guns. Cease firing once Wolf Squadron engages.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Julius took in a breath. He hesitated to give the next order, but if the ship was abandoned and some of them could get away, it was the right thing to do. He looked down at his command module and keyed in his secret code words that, in conjunction with the DNA scan from his fingers, unlocked the ship computer.

“Garval, I have given you full access to the ship vault. I want you to initiate the plunder transfer program

while we still can.”

Garval cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. At once.”

The plunder now divided, Julius focused on the battle about to begin. The notion of freedom, and the deal they had with the Confed, was never going to be a reality. Fate had a different destiny for them—a different destiny for him. And there was no deal to be made with fate.

CHAPTER 36: STRANGE DANCE

Ahead, highlighted by his tactical display, flew twenty-four enemy Z-44C Hornets, all more heavily armed than their own Z-40s. The Z-44Cs had heavier cannons and a larger complement of ship-to-ship missiles. Yet, they did not have a hummingbird boom like their own Z-40s. This would be their only advantage.

Reece felt no fear. He did not even feel tense. After the recent deaths of his pilots—Tash and then Eddie—his life did not matter anymore. He felt destructive, like he could kill everything in sight. Although he knew that ultimately the UEP did not kill Eddie, they did kill Tash, and both their actions and inaction indirectly aided Daniel Chin.

“Okay, boys,” he said over the conference. “I think we have a score to settle with these wankers.”

“Ya got that right!” Taffy responded. “Let’s do this for Tash and Eddie.”

“No,” Reece said. “Not for Eddie. This one is for Tash. The next one, once we get out of this and find that A.I., that one is going to be for Eddie.”

They all ballyhooed at that one.

“Slow approach,” he ordered. “Remember the captain has something planned for them.”

“This sure is going to be one major Charlie Foxtrot,” Cronin said.

“Got that right,” Taffy said. “Would have liked to have gotten my palette wet one last time before this cluster fuck.”

“Pickings are rather slim,” Cronin said. “Nothing female on that boat

unless you count that pain-in-the-ass queen.”

“Ahhhh,” Taffy said. “But I bet that queen packs one wild ride in the bunk. Maybe I’ll try to find out when I get back.”

“Cut the chatter!” Reece said. “And stay away from Laina. She’s off limits. Got it?”

“All right, mate, easy. Was just joking,” Taffy said.

“There be a problem here, mates,” Mac interrupted. “A grave one.”

“What is it, Mac?” Reece asked.

“Not, Mac—Stogie! And that’s the problem. If this’ll be the last time we do this, I want to make sure we die with call signs, so I’m naming all of ya. Reece, you’re Scruffy from now on, because you never shave and it’s an abysmal mess. Sorry to be the one tellin’ ya that.”

“Scruffy?” Reece said. “I’m not a fucking dog!”

“You been drinking again, Stogie?” Taffy said.

“Depends on what ya define as drinkin’, Deadeye. Oh, that’s you: Deadeye, as you are the best marksman in the group. Cronin

Ehhh, I’m going with Bugeyes on this one. You’re always on th’ damn terminals.”

“Bugeyes?” Cronin shouted.

“And if’n you don’t use the call signs I just gave ya, I’m going to eject out of my fighter right now. Got it, mates?”

As Mac finished speaking, Reece saw specks of light shooting from the Sea Wolf toward the formation of enemy fighters. The barrage of munitions splattered the space ahead of them, sending a wave of blasts across their paths.

A pair of explosions followed, taking two of the hostiles out. The remaining fighters began to scatter out of their delta formations and make evasive maneuvers to avoid further hits. The action slowed their approach and they broke off their vectors.

“Fine,” Reece said. “Stick with the call signs. Two bandits down. Prepare to engage.”

He scanned the way ahead; the tactical showed they would now be within weapons range in less than two minutes. The barrage of fire suddenly stopped, and the enemy squadrons realigned their trajectories toward Wolf Squadron.

“Reece,” Garval’s voice came on the conference, “we are now engaging the battlecruiser. Get ready.”

Reece acknowledged him, then adjusted his onboard imaging to get a look. The Sea Wolf charged toward the enemy battlecruiser, its trajectory appeared to be somewhere beyond its dorsal hull. As it approached, a barrage of fire erupted from the enemy, pummeling the Sea Wolf.

Reece winced.

She was taking a lot of damage, a ship that was already marred from countless battles and never fully recovered from the last one. Reece had heard that Julius always managed to pull through with some brilliant plan or just plain luck—but this looked bad. He and the pilots would have to really help out on this one.

An unexpectedly brilliant explosion erupted from the aft of the battlecruiser, just as the Sea Wolf strafed past it. It happened too quickly for Reece to see how Julius did it, but it was a significant blow.

He glanced at the tactical. A large group of the Z-44Cs broke off from their intercept of Wolf Squadron, and went on new vectors—toward the Sea Wolf, as hoped. This left only ten of them to tackle. They obviously underestimated Wolf Squadron.

“Maintain acceleration, weapons free and clear to engage. Good luck, boys. Let’s make it count.”

******

“Wuh dee fook?” The Doc muttered in annoyance as he flung his hands out to steady himself.

Almost knocking them over, Julius dashed down the corridor like an errant high-priority packet chasing its header. The elevator doors barely had a chance to open when he squeezed inside and disappeared.

“Wonder what that was about?” Haylek said.

Freeze shot him a grin. “I have it recorded. Want me to play it back?”

“No!” Haylek shouted. “It’s none of our business.”

Although, he had to admit that curiosity was testing his moral firewall.

Haylek stared at the closed doors for a moment, then a frightening image appeared in his mind of Laina on the ground, covered in blood and bruises: the victim of an angry, drunken pirate. He touched the panel and the doors opened. He swallowed and stepped inside.

Laina sat on the couch, her eyes locked in silent reverie at the floor. To his relief, she had no bruises on her face, only streaks of runny makeup likely left by now-dry tears.

As he walked in, she lifted her gaze to acknowledge him. Her eyes were puffy and red. Yet, even in her current state, he still saw a beautiful, powerful woman; his heart sank a bit at seeing her so hurt.

“Are you okay, Laina?”

She straightened herself up and nodded. “I’m fine. You boys need to get back to work.”

Haylek motioned the others to go back to their terminals.

“Can I get you something?” Haylek asked her.

Laina stood up gracefully and looked down at him. At that moment, he realized with some embarrassment just how much taller than him she was.

“I said I’m fine!” she said. “You need to lead

” She pointed toward the hackers. “Find me Chorus.”

Haylek nodded and scurried over to his terminal. He brought up the hidden packet’s routing intelligence diagram. As he began to write a program to organize the routing paragraphs into a logical order, he glanced behind him. Laina was sitting back down with a flask of liquor and a glass before her. She stared at the glass, a conflict in her eyes—one he knew all too well. An idea came to him.

He stood up and darted over to her. She looked up at him, apparently startled.

“Laina, we could use your help,” he said.

She gave him a wry look and a slight laugh. “Are you joking? I’m not a hacker.”

“You know how to operate a terminal. That’s all you need. I’ll show you.”

Laina gave the flask one last glance, a slight grin on her lips as she stood up and followed him. “Okay, show me.”

Haylek sat her at a terminal and began to show her word and paragraph arrangements for the routing intelligence. Essentially, it was a matching game where she would organize the clutter into the right piles. This would make it easier for the hackers to run the correct algorithms to decipher them, even though the speed at which she could do it would negate the purpose.

“See the patterns?” Haylek pointed. “You just need to move them around into the correct paragraph buckets. Once they fill up, they will automatically empty and a new set will appear.”

Laina nodded. “Okay, I think I get it. But it seems like the kind of tedious work a computer could do on its own. Not sure I understand why it’s being done manually like this.”

Freeze looked like he was going to say something, but Haylek gave him a silencing look.

“The computers aren’t smart enough,” Haylek said. “They would need to have some A.I. capability in order to do this work—and none of this equipment has that.”

Laina shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

Satisfied, Haylek sat back down at his terminal and continued his work. It was not long before a message appeared on his screen from Freeze: “Why are you giving her that? A program will do it way faster.”

Haylek tapped back: “It will keep her busy and keep her mind off whatever’s bothering her. Get back to work.”

At that moment, he jumped at the sound of the ship alarms, accompanied by the beat of battle drums. He looked over at Laina.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, not really knowing why he expected her to know anymore than he did.

Laina made a move to get up from her terminal, then hesitated.

“Whatever it is, I can’t help anyway,” she said. “I’m going to stay here and help you find Chorus. It’s our only hope right now.”

Haylek looked at the others. He did not have the heart to tell her that she was just doing busy work that was not really going to help much.

Just then, the ship intercom came on and Julius’ voice ensued from it.

“Crew and pilots of the Sea Wolf, this is your captain. I don’t have time for a long pep talk, so I’ll keep this short. We have been engaged by a UEP battlecruiser that is projecting a gravity well. This is going to be a fight to the death. We cannot jump out while that battlecruiser is functioning, and we cannot charge our capacitor for a jump while engaged in combat. So it’s either them or us.

“If this is our last engagement, then let us make sure that the Sea Wolf’s name lives on forever in tales of its infamy and gallant crew. Let’s see how much luck this old girl still has left in her. Wolf Squadron

launch!”

Doc and Freeze turned to him, looking dumbfounded and frightened. Haylek should have felt paralyzed, he should have been panicking—but he wasn’t. He grabbed Chorus’ jewel in his hand and squeezed it tight.

“Continue your work,” he said, conviction in his voice. “We are going to find Chorus—or we will die trying.”

He turned to each of them. They nodded and went to work on their terminals. Another explosion shook the ship, and the lights in the room flickered. Thankfully, Freeze had the foresight to rig their equipment to its own regulated power supply.

Haylek and Laina’s eyes locked for a moment, a stern expression on her face.

“I know you are busy,” she said. “But I need to know if you can do something.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Without distracting from your efforts to find Chorus, is it possible for you to get a conference link open to the Secretary of Peace Office at the Martian Confederacy’s capital?”

Haylek stared at his terminal and gave a shrug. “Yeah, that would be easy enough

but why?”

“Do it,” she said. “I need to ask for their help. We can’t do this all alone anymore.”

The Sea Wolf shook again, the vibrations so strong this time that it rattled Haylek’s teeth. He gave her a nod and turned to his terminal.

Using the ship’s passive wave connection, he bridged the communication to their network. A jamming signal interrupted the flow, probably from the UEP ship. A slight modification to the header and encryption packet to masquerade its signature as UEP would fix that. Since it was on the passive com network, it would likely go unnoticed by PIG, too. Within seconds, the link-up to the Confed was established.

Haylek passed the conference link to her terminal. Before long, he could hear her conversing with someone on the other end.

That request done, he returned his attention to the search.

Haylek gazed at the Waterfall display. The routing intelligence diagram stared back at him. That complex maze of figures and code hid the location to Chorus—the location to humanity’s only hope. He needed to find her.

CHAPTER 37: THE LAST DANCE

Taffy watched the ten Z-44Cs with a smile on his face. His finger brushed the trigger with excited anticipation. The tactical display lit up and five of their quarry became highlighted. These were his targets—well, his wingman, Cronin, was supposed to help too.

“Okay, everyone,” Cronin said. “I have our tacticals set up for the plan. Good luck, guys.”

“Thanks, Bugeyes,” Reece said, a hint of a grin in his voice from the use of the call sign.

“Okay, Bugeyes,” Taffy said. “You ready for this, mate?”

“Yes, Deadeye,” Cronin responded dryly.

“Be ready to spoof,” Reece said. “We are almost in their cone.”

The range indicator on Taffy’s display showed that Wolf Squadron rapidly approached the enemy weapons’ range. Unfortunately, the Z-44Cs had a longer range than their own Z-40s.

So the plan was to use countermeasures and good flying to avoid the initial onslaught of enemy missiles. They would then push the enemy into their missile cone and fire off a counterattack. Once they got too close for missiles or ran out of ordnance, it would get close and intimate—the way Taffy liked it.

The seconds ticked off and they were now well into the enemy missile cone—yet nobody fired. Tactical showed that they would enter close-combat range any second now.

“Ten frightened Z-44C Hornets,” Taffy said. “Think it’s time to stir up that nest.”

“Come on, Deadeye,” Cronin said. “Don’t do anything stupid! It’s too far for a hit anyway.”

Taffy ignored him. He thrived on the doubts of others. He pointed the nose of his fighter into the center of the formation. The targeting computer showed the crosshairs of his guns in red—indicating not in range. He would ignore the computer’s doubts as well.

Gently, he ever so slightly tapped the control stick, adjusting his fighter’s trajectory. The targeting crosshairs bounced inside the tight series of red squares, each square an enemy fighter. Patiently, he waited until just the right moment, when he could sense the target in the right position. Any second now

He squeezed the trigger.

A burst of accelerated protons fired out from his cannons. They streaked ahead, leaving their bluish-white tracers in their wake and disappearing into the dark of space. Within a second, a quick flash of light pulsed out from the enemy formation. He looked at the tactical computer and smiled.

“I think I’ve agitated the nest,” Taffy said. “Splash one.”

“Wow,” Cronin said. “That call sign of yours is well-deserved.”

“Bah! Lucky shot!” Mac said.

“Ahhh, Stogie, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be gettin’ some lucky shots too!”

Mac belched. “Already got me some lucky shots, lad.”

“Clearly,” Taffy said.

A warning alarm sounded in his cockpit.

“They’re lighting candles,” Reece said. “Time to pair off and go private on the link. Good hunting, mates.”

Taffy observed the nine fighters, the long-range tactical showing that they were now breaking formation and forming pairs. The warning alarm changed pitch, and new indicators appeared showing the missiles—eighteen of them.

“How unsporting of them,” Taffy said. “Just when I thought they were going to give us an intimate dance.”

“I’m trying to jam them,” Cronin said.

“Don’t jam them,” Taffy said, as he pushed the throttle all the way, going into full acceleration.

“What are you doing?” Cronin asked.

Taffy watched the missiles close in. He was now well ahead of his mates and should show up as a very appealing target for the missile computers to lock onto.

“If this doesn’t work, Bugeyes,” Taffy said, “jam to your heart’s content.”

“If what doesn’t work?” Cronin said.

The tactical display showed that most of the missiles had altered their trajectories and now honed in on Taffy alone.

Silly computer logic, he thought to himself.

The remainder of them would have to be tackled by the others.

“Taffy, what are you doing?” Reece’s voice came on. “This is not the plan.”

Taffy flipped the latch on his control stick and engaged the button. He could hear the hummingbird boom extend ahead of him.

The onboard warning alarms increased their pitch and the tactical readouts showed less than twenty seconds to missile impact at current acceleration.

“I’m going to try and blow out these candles, mates. If this doesn’t work

Well, I’ll save a spot for you all at the table. Good luck.”

He cut off acceleration and put his hand on the lever for the hummingbird boom’s intensity modifier. The speed was going to be a strain on his Z-40 once he broke the inertia—maybe too much—but it was the chance he had to take.

He timed the move in his mind. His hand would need to move quickly from the modifier lever to the throttle. It would be difficult. Actually, it just wasn’t possible to do it fast enough. The only way to do it was to hit the acceleration at the same time, but both his hands would already be occupied between the control stick and the throttle lever.

The predicament brought back a memory of an old chap he knew: the boy had taken a bad hit in a shag and was forced to use his foot to operate the throttle on his return flight.

Why not? he thought.

He shifted in his seat, lifting his left leg up and positioning the boot right on the tip of the throttle lever. It was extremely uncomfortable, and his leg blocked his vision a bit, but he managed a glimpse of the tactical’s countdown. Five seconds remained. He counted the rest in his head. His heart raced—this would be it.

Taffy pushed the hummingbird boom’s intensity to full, with a slight modification to pitch. At the same time, he kicked the throttle to full acceleration.

A white halo of light flashed around the hummingbird boom. The Z-40’s forward acceleration stopped and it tipped forward over the boom’s axis, resting at a ninety degree down angle. Its engines already at full, it accelerated away just as twelve of the missiles converged on his previous position.

Taffy’s vision was blurred, and his innards felt like they had been pulled out of him. He heard a voice blasting on his conference, but it was faint and he seemed to have lost his hearing. He glanced in a daze at his leg, which now appeared to be bent in the wrong direction—broken and bleeding with bone protruding out of it.

The explosion from the missiles rocked him further, and intense pain shot up his body. He had to squeeze his muscles tight and concentrate to keep himself conscious.

“Wake up, damn it,” he said to himself. “Wake up!”

“Taffy? Taffy, are you okay?” It was Cronin’s voice.

“Yeah

yeah, mate,” he said, his senses coming back. “Perhaps that was not the greatest of ideas.”

“That was amazing!” Cronin said. “There’s only seven left!”

Taffy managed to move his leg down to the floor. The pain, which should have been excruciating, suddenly became dull and relegated to background noise.

Damn right.

He still had some fight left in him.

“Go ahead and jam those,” Taffy said, reorienting his fighter back at the enemy squadron and closing in. “The song’s almost over and it’s time for the last dance.”

The enemy fighters were now in his missile cone, but that was not his preference. A few more seconds and he would be in close-combat range. A pair of the bogeys broke off and vectored toward him. The tactical showed they had some candles left, but they were not lighting them.

Taffy smiled. He switched his conference to a broadcast channel, one the enemy might be able to hear.

“So you want to do the waltz, eh?” he said. “I must warn you: I’m a clumsy dancer and my feet always stomp on my partner’s toes.”

Taffy focused on the crosshairs. The targeting computer still showed it in red—to hell with that.

He shot a burst of accelerated protons at his quarry, signaling the beginning of the real dogfight.

******

Reece observed the aerobatics; he should have been upset with Taffy for not following the plan, but he understood what he felt and certainly could not condemn the results.

On the conference, he could hear Taffy still chiding the enemy.

“Come on there, fellow—shoot back! Good flying alone never killed anyone.”

The bandits, if they were listening, would not respond, probably a good thing as all it would do was encourage Taffy to keep talking.

With increasing confidence in their chances, Reece watched Cronin use his electronic warfare skills to jam and spoof the seven remaining missiles. Fortunate indeed appeared to favor them.

With the enemy’s initial attack thwarted, they now had something that could help turn the tables on their foe—the initiative. However, they would need to move in quickly to take advantage of it, before the enemy lit up another volley of candles.

“All right, Mac,” Reece said. “Let’s get in the fight.”

“Not Mac—Stogie!” Mac corrected.

Reece adjusted his tactical to view the images from Taffy and Cronin’s telemetry feed. Taffy was now inside the dogfight cone and began firing freely into the enemy squadron.

Four of the Z-44Cs broke away from the main group and engaged Taffy. Cronin was close behind and began firing as well.

The other five bogeys took a direct vector toward him and Mac. A warning alarm sounded: the Z-44Cs were locking their last volley of missiles on them. The tactical showed they would soon be inside minimum distance for missiles, which is where they needed to be.

“If they fire,” Reece said, “freeze inertia, break away, and spoof. Then immediately get on their angle and engage—they’ll be too close for missiles at that point—so it will be a straight-up dogfight.”

“Aye, aye Lieutenant Scruffy,” Mac said.

Reece had to suppress any concern about Mac’s sobriety—it was too late for worrying now.

Flicking the safety off his control stick, Reece pressed the button underneath. The hummingbird boom extended from the cone of his fighter. As he closed in, he focused on getting the crosshairs on his targets. The bogeys were now in visible range, and he could just make out the reflection of light on their silver wings.

“Ahhh, my friend,” Taffy said on the conference, “you left such a beautiful blooming flower in your wake. Splash one!”

Reece did not have time to congratulate him, as the crosshairs changed color from red to orange. He pulled the trigger and unleashed a volley at his target.

As he was firing, the warning alarm pitched up and a new indicator appeared on his visual: a missile fired at them, too close to be accurate, but also too close to evade. Reece kept shooting his cannons until they found their mark.

The missile exploded, igniting a shockwave that shook his Z-40, just as the enemy bogeys flew past them.

The onboard instrumentation went out and the control stick went limp. Reece felt cold at the realization that he lost control of his fighter. However within seconds, the instrumentation came back on and he had control once again—a close call.

“Stogie, you okay?”

There was a delay before he answered.

“Aye! Thought I was done in—lost my instruments a second. I think that was an EMP candle we blew out. Better check your weapons because it appears I’ve been castrated.”

Reece pulled the trigger, expecting to see a burst of accelerated protons fire off.

Nothing happened.

Glancing down at the damage control system, he verified that indeed all weapons were out—even missiles.

“Mine are down too,” he said. “Go evasive. Let’s follow the plan and lead them out of the zone.”

“Aye, Scruffy!”

Reece oriented his craft toward the debris field. He examined the tactical, adjusting it to show the sphere of influence for the artificial gravity well. It ended just before Stream Three, which was exactly what he planned on.

The enemy bogeys had circled around to pursue, trying to get an angle on them. He kept at the ready to jink and spoof if necessary, but the enemy did not fire off any shots.

On a whim, he purposely let himself drift into their firing cone so that he would be as vulnerable as possible. Several seconds passed—still nothing.

“I think that blast might have taken out their weapons systems too. We seem to be awash in luck.”

“Luck, lad? Luck? That’s beyond luck—that’s divine intervention!”

“Whatever it is, let’s hope it lasts.”

The two Z-40s shot toward Stream Three, bogeys on their tail. Reece watched the tactical’s topographical map. The group of fighters would reach the stream in a about a minute. Since neither friend nor foe could fire, the moment would go by quietly.

Reece used the time to examine the telemetry feed and see how Taffy and Cronin were fairing. He had not heard anymore of Taffy’s boastings on the conference. Sadly, he saw no feed for him.

Damn.

Taffy must have bought the farm. Cronin, to his credit, was still alive and tackling the two remaining bogeys.

“Stogie,” Reece said, “I think Taffy’s—”

“I see that. He was a good friend and quite the ace. But don’t fret for him now, lad.”

Reece thought about all that had happened until now: how far they seemed to have come and how little they had to show for it. As much as he should have felt deprived for not getting any real reward for all this, it didn’t matter. It was still the most exciting time of his life and he would do it all over again if given the choice. Still, one nagging question did bother him.

“Stogie, do you ever wonder if we’re in the wrong? Like maybe we picked the wrong side and are the bad guys in all this?”

Mac belched. “Ah, mate, don’t weigh your soul down with regrets. Regret is an itch for which you have no nails to scratch.

“We’ve always been a fair bunch, protecting each other—and never wronged anyone who didn’t have it coming to them. There’s no real good or bad, lad. But if there is, I’d say we’re quite a bit closer to good than bad.”

“So you don’t think we have bad

karma?”

“Karma? Bah! Look lad, the UEP, the Confed, the Vens

I don’t know what lurks inside their souls. But I do know what’s inside yours, mate

and Taffy’s, Cronin’s, Eddie’s, Tash’s—and it’s nothing I’m ashamed to have at my side when we die and take ownership of the Milky Way Farm.”

Reece smiled. Mac always had a way of making him feel better about things.

“Thanks, Mac.”

“Bah, don’t get all sentimental on me, ya scallywag. The minute we hit the farm, it’s every man for himself as I’m going to raid all the booze stores.”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty to go around.”

Reece glanced at the tactical: ten more seconds. Ahead, he could now clearly see the streams—a frightful scene, as both Streams Three and Two met head on. A dust cloud bloomed outward, obscuring the constant collisions that took place within it.

“Ha!” Mac said. “I doubt there’ll be much booze left with the head-start Tash, Eddie, and Taffy already have.”

A beep sounded from his navigation system—it was time.

“See you on the other side, mate,” Reece said, as he adjusted his trajectory into the debris cloud.

“Don’t count us out yet, laddy. Remember, the man who has luck in the morning still has luck in the afternoon.”

“Well, let’s hope that extends into the evening. Good luck.”

The debris cloud now filled his view; it would be any second to insertion. The navigation computer on his fighter was tweaked to give guidance on proper trajectory into the stream to avoid a collision. Nevertheless, there was still that element of luck—bad luck.

Reece took in a breath and closed his eyes a moment. This was it: all the sacrifices, all the killing. He hoped what he was doing somehow had some cosmic significance—that it would be written in the history books in a positive light. He hoped that being on Chorus’ side was the right choice in the end—and that he really would be remembered as one of the good guys.

A beep sounded.

Reece opened his eyes and hit the stealth control. His Z-40, now out of the influence of the gravity well, fell into the stealth shroud and became invisible to the enemy. He then jerked the control stick, plunging his fighter into the debris cloud, his screen now awash in brown dust that obscured all visuals.

Banking, Reece pitched his fighter through digital overlays that depicted the debris he could not see. As he traversed through it, the screen cleared and he could now see the target point. Adjusting his trajectory, he shot toward the reverse gravity stream underneath Stream Two.

As he flew down toward it, he gazed directly into the mouth of Stream Two. It was like a giant worm reaching out to devour him—but the beast was one he had already tamed.

He safely deposited himself into the reverse stream, riding the current underneath Stream Two, which could carry him to Stream One if he chose. But that was not the plan.

The telemetry feed showed Mac right behind him with four of the bogeys tailing him. He noticed a white bloom on the tactical, from an explosion that registered seconds ago. The field splashed one of them—just one.

“These guys know about the streams,” Reece said.

“I see that. They should have all bought the farm back there. What’s the plan now, mate?”

Reece thought it over. They could try to get them to make a mistake at Stream One, but they already showed their ability to handle Stream Three, so One would be a milk run by comparison.

“Okay, Stogie, we have a choice to make. Once we clear Stream One and exit the anomaly, we could safely jump out and the bandits would never find us. We would be free. We could then try to find a safe haven somewhere and claim our shares of the plunder from our secret accounts, maybe even buy ourselves new identities so we can live.

“The other choice: somehow take these two bogeys out and improve the odds for the Sea Wolf and our mates to escape. It’s your decision.”

Mac belched and then started coughing. “Sorry, a little bit came up there.”

He coughed some more. After finally recovering he continued.

“You seriously consider abandoning our comrades a decision, lad? You should know better.”

“All right. I had to ask though.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” Mac said.

“Fine. I have an idea then. Let’s break away at the stream’s exit, then vector at them and ram their asses into the rocks.”

Mac laughed. “Now that’s going to be one funny sight, Scruffy. I love it!”

Reece did not love it—but it was all they had left.

They soon approached the end of Stream Two. The gravity field at the end curved the debris over the top where it joined the main part that led back to Stream Three. Stream One bent around this point, but did not touch it, allowing for a relatively navigable crossing.

Reece keyed in a rally point coordinate for Mac to join him. He then adjusted the hummingbird boom’s intensity for full stop when activated. It was uncertain whether the visible halo of the boom would break through the stealth, but it was chance he had to take.

The console beeped. Reece jerked the stick and ignited his engines for a second, then cut it off. His Z-40 skipped the edge of Stream One, drifting on its inertia into the empty patch of space.

As he neared the target area, Reece activated the hummingbird boom—a visible glow did emanate from it, so he hoped it went unnoticed. His fighter came to a complete stop. The tactical showed Mac in position on his wing. The bogeys began entering Stream One, seemingly unaware of what just happened.

He and Mac picked their targets, indicators highlighting their respective quarry. Reece waited, watching them float along the stream until the right moment—and that moment came.

Reece pushed the acceleration to full and aimed his fighter at the bogey. The Z-40 shot into the stream, slipping in between transient debris. He yawed his fighter to port just before ramming him so that it would strike with his side. The two fighters collided and they bounced away from each other.

Warning alarms sounded all over his console as Reece got knocked around in his seat.

He immediately hit the hummingbird boom and stopped his inertia. The fighter shook wildly as the gravity stream fought him. He cut off the boom and the agitation subsided, allowing the gravity stream to take over. Just as he was going to try and get his bearings, something collided with him, shooting him clear out of the stream and into the debris field.

“Splash two mate!” he heard Mac’s voice boom.

Reece fought to stabilize his ship. He was no longer in the stream, and he was not in open space. This was inside the danger zone where the errant gravitons influenced all matter in unpredictable ways.

With power cut off, the ship stopped wobbling and he seemed to drift to a stop. The tactical showed one of the remaining bogeys out there with him—probably what rammed him out of the stream. It was now on his six and gaining speed to ram him again—the other was in the stream with Mac.

Glancing at his damage control, he noted that his gravity amplifier was out, so there would be no more stealth and no jumping away to escape. Reece reactivated propulsion and jerked his fighter away from his bogey.

“Stogie, lead that one to the end of the stream, then finish him.”

“Mate, you can’t fly out there. You need to get back into a stream.”

Reece adjusted the navigation and plotted a new course. It would be a rough ride.

“I’ll be fine. I have a plan. You just worry about yourself and take care of that one. Meet you back at the Sea Wolf or the farm, whichever comes first.”

“Aye, mate. Good luck!”

The flight to his destination was not as turbulent as he expected. He soon reached the mouth of Stream Three, from a different perspective than he was used to: its side. The bogey stayed close on his six, matching course, but keeping speed. He was not trying to ram him anymore, at least not yet.

Reece scanned the area and found what he was looking for. He pictured the maneuver in his mind, remembering what he had done in the past and hoping to duplicate the results. The cloud of debris filled his screen. It was time.

He hit the engines to full acceleration and plunged into the cloud, adjusting his trajectory so it was directly toward the ejecting matter from Stream Three.

His Z-40 traversed across the mouth and deposited itself into a pocket adjacent to it. As he reached it, his inertia slowed and he killed power. His fighter wobbled for a moment, then came to a stop, firmly glued inside the Flytrap.

Reece looked down at his tactical, hoping to see the report of an explosion, an indication that his enemy was out of the game. Instead, he gazed outside his canopy to find his enemy, a Z-44C Hornet, staring back at him—floating and stuck, right next to him inside the Flytrap.

Reece cursed. They had no weapons and they could not move. They were effectively out of the game.

He stared at his adversary, imagining that he was probably gloating over the fact that eventually his buddies would show up—to save him and arrest or kill Reece.

“No,” Reece said, “not like this. I’m not going to float here with you and wait for your friends. I’m not letting you win like that.”

He looked at his sleeve and verified the atmospheric integrity of his flight suit. Then, without any hesitation, he reached over his head and pulled the ejection lever. The canopy flew open and he was launched out of his fighter.

The inertia carried him away briefly, but then the Flytrap’s influence grabbed him and he stopped.

Reece now floated a couple of meters above his fighter. Flailing his arms and legs in a swimming motion, he rotated his body to face the Z-44C. It was close. He estimated no more than twenty meters away.

He reached into a suit pocket and pulled out his flicker pistol. After adjusting it to full intensity, he aimed at the enemy bogey and fired.

At first, the flicker fire missed completely. Reece was never good with a pistol. However, using the tracers as a guide, he adjusted his fire and managed to land some shots.

Unfortunately, when they did strike the fighter, the only damage seemed to be slight burn marks on its hull. He kept firing anyway, trying to make a game out of it, placing the shots as close to one another as he could. What else was there to do?

Suddenly, and to his surprise, the enemy fighter’s canopy flew off and its pilot ejected. Mirroring what happened to him, the pilot’s inertia broke and he was floating above his Z-44C, his back to Reece.

The enemy pilot rotated himself until he faced Reece. Without hesitating, he pulled his own pistol out and fired at Reece.

His shot missed, streaking past Reece.

Reflexively, Reece returned fire, but his aim was way off, even as the enemy’s tracers drew rapidly closer to their mark.

Angry, he thought how unfair it was for things to end like this: he should have been in a fighter firing his cannons, not in a pistoleer duel.

The moment became surreal, and as the enemy’s tracers gradually got closer, a fleeting memory came to him of a conversation he had with Taffy. It was back at Stromond’s. They were at a shooting range and Reece had become frustrated at his poor flicker pistol skills.

“Relax mate,” Taffy had said. “If you’re ever in a scuff, you need to shoot one-handed. Flicker pistols have no recoil. If he’s at range, turn to your side. It exposes a smaller target and allows you to look down the length through the pistol. Then focus with both eyes. Don’t anticipate or you’ll flinch. Just let the shot happen. Don’t even think about it.”

“Then what?” Reece had asked, as he held the pistol steady at the fixed target.

“At that point mate,” Taffy said with a smile, “may the best man win.”

Reece adjusted himself using Taffy’s advice—turning to his side and pointing the pistol far ahead of him. The last streak of enemy tracers whizzed by him to the left, so close that the sudden flash of light actually blinded him for a second. Reece had to make his next shot count, as it would likely be his last one.

“All right, Taffy,” he said aloud before pulling the trigger. “Let’s hope I’m the best man.”

CHAPTER 38: THE LAST STAND

“Stabilize the forward shields!” Julius said.

The bridge was filled with smoke and he could hear coughing from some of the officers even as he ignored the burning in his own lungs.

“Trying sir!” Ramey said.

“Garval, what’s wrong with the ventilation?”

Garval coughed and tried to clear his throat. “It’s down, sir,” he managed.

“Obviously it’s down! Get it running before we all suffocate!”

“Aye.” More coughing.

“Captain, we’ve lost armor integrity on starboard side!” Jessen said. “All the way to frame 20. Fires reported in multiple adjacent compartments.”

“Dispatch fire teams and damage control.”

On the main screen, the enemy battlecruiser loomed large. Its gun ports had been firing nonstop since entering weapons range. The Sea Wolf returned fire, but it was outgunned by the more heavily armed vessel. Despite the battering it was taken, the old ship charged forward like a stubborn bull facing a matador.

He glanced at the onscreen damage and shield indicators. Shields were down to 45 percent and armor plating was taking the rest of it. Soon the enemy fire would penetrate beyond the armor and into the splinter plating and then finally the bulkheads. At that point the hull integrity would collapse and they would lose the ship.

Hold together, lucky lady, Julius thought. Just one more time. I promise I’ll fix you up later.

“Captain,” Jessen said. “Once we clear the cruiser, we’re going to be smashing right into the debris field behind it if we don’t slow down.”

“Understood. Steady as she goes, Jessen.”

“Aye, sir.”

Julius heard a hiss from the ventilation system starting up, but just as the smoke began to clear, another explosion rocked them—and it shut off again.

Garval cursed and slammed a fist on his armrest.

“Sir, I lost contact with DC,” Jessen said.

“Is there something wrong with com?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. No problems with com on this end. Their last update said they left the battle dressing station and were en route to the forward compartments.”

Julius felt uneasy—could they have abandoned ship?

“Garval, are the escape pods still locked down?”

Garval checked his station then nodded. “Aye, sir, they are. Until you give the order.”

Julius glanced at the damage control screen. They were almost on top of the battlecruiser now, and enemy fire was now penetrating their shields and damaging the ventral hull armor. The diagram of the ship showed yellow dots for light damage, orange for moderate, and red for critical—the red dots were winning. The fire in the forward compartments was spreading.

He followed the diagram farther in and noticed the untouched compartments on the starboard side of Frame 73. He remembered these recently being used to store the overflow from the cargo hold.

“Jessen, what’s in the forward storage compartments? I know they recently moved some cargo in there.”

Without saying a word, Jessen brought up a holographic manifest that floated above his station.

Julius tried to read the list, but the smoke interfered with the hologram. Jessen noticed his plight and used his hands to clear the smoke.

He scanned the list and found what he hoped not to find, a cache of combustible material. If the fire reached it, the ship would be sunk.

“Do you still have emergency venting control in those compartments?” Julius asked.

“Yes, sir,” Jessen responded. “But I don’t know who’s in there. I’ll try to check—”

“Whoever is in there is a corpse anyway,” Julius said. “Vent it now.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Julius glanced at the damage screen and noted with relief that the fires went out.

“Done, sir,” Jessen reported.

A series of explosions rocked them and the damage control screen lit up with more dots. These were on their aft. On the tactical, he could see the enemy Z-44Cs had commenced bombing runs, apparently targeting their engines.

“Ramey, those fighters

”

“Aye, sir,” Ramey said. “But I’m going to have to redirect fire away from the cruiser to target them.”

“Do it.”

Julius studied the situation. Wolf Squadron was able to divert some of the fighters away, but beyond that they were of no help now. He noted that the battlecruiser had sustained damage to its aft when it jumped in—and that is where they were headed. But even with concentrated fire at its weakest point, it would not be enough.

He had been reacting too much. They needed to turn the tables on this quickly.

“Ramey, drop the shields. They’re not doing much good anyway.”

Ramey turned around. “But, sir?”

“We’re draining the capacitor for nothing. We need that power to jump out of here.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Julius opened a conference channel to Engineering. “Murdock, how is she holding up down there?”

There was static on the line and some yelling in the background.

“Captain, wait one sec. Watch that fucking rupture or you’ll find out what a chemical burn feels like, you idiot!

“Sorry, sir, it’s hectic here. She’s got some fight left in her, but I don’t know how much more. Have you heard from the DC teams?”

“No, we lost contact. Listen, is the port reactor still off its strut?”

There was more yelling on the other end before Murdock answered.

“Well

yeah. Left it like that since it’s still out of commission. It’s worthless scrap right now. Without the graviton coil I can’t direct the output through the waveguide—”

Murdock stopped and sighed.

“What are you going to ask me to do, Julius?”

“I want you to rig it with a timer to spin up to full power, line it up on the landing bay, and eject it with the launch catapults so it strikes the enemy cruiser.”

Murdock snorted. “Oh, is that all ya want? Why don’t you ask for something easier, like pulling a treasure chest out of my ass?”

“Murdock.”

“I got it, asshole. You owe me a generator. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

Julius sighed. Now that everyone had gotten their share of the plunder, discipline had gone out the porthole.

At that moment, he heard the bridge doors open and someone walked in. The sound of the footsteps was enough to reveal who.

“I thought I told you that I did not want you here,” he said, without turning around.

Laina walked up to his side, holding a datapad in her hand.

“You said to stay away from you, but you did not tell me to stay off the bridge.”

“Well, I’m on the bridge, aren’t I?”

An explosion sounded and the ship rocked. Laina fell over and landed on top of him. Her face was right next to his and their eyes locked. Her scent caught him off guard. The long hair, no longer in a clip, draped on him.

For a moment, his anger subsided and was replaced by a different emotion. She quickly pushed herself away and regained her composure. Julius stiffened in his chair and looked away.

Laina tried to hand him the datapad, but he ignored her.

“Get off my bridge,” he growled.

“Take it!” she yelled. “It’s Chorus’ location!”

Julius turned halfway to her and slowly took the pad.

“How did you get this?” he questioned.

“Don’t ask me to explain how. The hackers obtained it.”

Julius handed it back to her with obvious disinterest.

“Well, are you going to jump to it?” she persisted.

Julius sighed.

“Even if I wanted to jump there, even if I had the means at my disposal to do battle with the most powerful force in the galaxy—the A.I. holding her

”

He pointed at the battlecruiser on the main screen.

“That must be dealt with before we can do anything!”

At that moment, Murdock’s voice came on his conference.

“Julius, your catapult is armed and ready.”

“Will you be able to get the reactor spun up quickly enough for this?”

“It’s already at Stage 11. Doesn’t take me that long. I’m not an amateur engineer like certain navigation officers.”

Julius could see Jessen squirm in his chair.

“How long before it reaches critical mass?”

“I’m having it run a diagnostics routine to delay the progression to Stage 12. You’ve probably got a couple of minutes before there. Now, when will it actually blow up? No clue, but judging by the sound and heat coming off it, we don’t have much time.”

“Acknowledged. Stay by the catapult controls, Murdock.”

Julius looked at the main screen. They were now directly above their adversary. He glanced at the onscreen damage and shield indicators. With shields down, the enemy fire was freely eating into the armor plating, which was also quickly giving way to the splinter plating. The ship would not last much longer.

“Jessen, on my mark, I want you turn to port approximately 90 degrees and pitch up to show this cruiser our bare ass. Murdock, get ready.”

They both acknowledged his command.

“Are you jamming their communications?” Laina asked.

Julius was taken aback by the unusual question.

“What?” he responded, then raised his hand. “I don’t have time for you. You better brace yourself.”

Laina sighed then walked over to Jared’s old station. She looked at the station for a moment, perhaps remembering the incident with Eddie. Fortunately for her sake, the blood had already been cleaned earlier by the crew. She reluctantly sat in the module.

Julius returned his gaze to the screen—a sight filled with flashes from cannon fire and explosions from flak guns. An enemy fighter would occasionally fly across, attempting to strafe the Sea Wolf with precision bombs, Ramey’s return fire kept them from getting their bombs off for now, but long-term it was ineffective against such small and agile targets.

The enemy battlecruiser was so close now that he could read the lettering on its hull: UES Mystic. Another explosion rocked the Sea Wolf and additional red dots appeared on the damage screen. It was now or never.

“Jessen, execute!”

The Sea Wolf made the maneuver, turning to its left and pitching upward. Ahead, the bow of the ship pointed to the debris field and was on a collision course with it, but he had to ignore the threat it posed.

Julius turned his module around to get a view of their aft. The launch bay was now aligned with the enemy.

“Now, Murdock!”

It took a few seconds before he could see the generator eject toward the enemy, but once in space, it traveled quickly out of visual range. He was surprised at the speed it was catapulted and suspected Murdock must have rigged something to increase its velocity with the catapult beams.

“Ramey, concentrate all fire on the enemy cruiser’s damage point. Whatever you do though, don’t hit the generator! Jessen, full reverse, try to stop our inertia.”

They acknowledged him. He knew their acceleration was probably too great at this point to avoid a collision with the debris wall, but he had to try.

At that moment, a brilliant explosion lit up the screen. When the flash cleared, he could see a hole in the cruiser and an ejection of debris from it. It was a significant blow to them.

Julius whirled his station back around. “Jessen, can you jump?”

His lieutenant shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. The well is still projecting.”

It was not enough. Ahead, they were still approaching the debris wall. Although their speed was slowing, they would probably still collide.

Julius looked up at the damage control. New fires were erupting across the Sea Wolf; compartments were being flooded with radiation, the splinter plating was being eaten away, Even if they stopped short of colliding with the debris wall, there was no fight left in them. It was over.

“Julius, are you still jamming them!?” Laina asked.

He did not answer her. His only option now was to signal their surrender—but he knew the fate of being captured was worse than death. It was time to give another order that he never thought he would never give.

“Garval, unlock the escape pods and shuttles.”

“Can someone tell me if we are jamming them!?” Laina yelled.

This time she stood in the center of the bridge.

Finally, Jessen answered her.

“Yes, of course. We don’t want them getting reinforcements—”

“Stop jamming them!” she barked. “There is a message they must receive.”

Julius finally looked over at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked her.

“Sir! Collision alert!” Jessen yelled.

Just as Julius tried to focus on what the collision was, an explosion rocked them. Debris began to rain from the ceiling and the lighting of the bridge became further clouded with smoke.

Julius instinctively banked his command module to the far side of the bridge to avoid the fallout. He rubbed his face to clear the dust, and he had to cough the particles out of his lungs. Ironically, he heard the ventilation system finally kick in, clearing the smoke out of the bridge. The lighting finally pierced through and he looked around the bridge.

A pile of rubble, comprising beams and metal shrapnel, sat in the center where he had been. It was fortunate he had reacted in time to move away from there.

“Everyone okay?”

The officers managed to acknowledge him in between the coughing. He took a glance at the ship indicators. They had come to a stop finally. Apparently, they collided with the debris wall. The damage was bad, but they were alive.

He looked over to where Laina was standing, but she was not there. Alarmed, he got out of his module and searched the bridge. It took him a moment to realize that the rubble had claimed her.

“Get Lankey here!” he yelled to no one in particular. “Help me move this.”

Frantically, he and some of the officers began removing the debris. He picked up and threw a heavy beam out of the way to reveal Laina’s back.

Panic set in and he felt himself tremble. Julius quickened the pace, frantically tossing away beams and metal plates double his own weight. The adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he felt his muscles spasm uncontrollably. Finally, he cleared most of it off her.

Dread set in at the sight if her. Her dress was torn and the skin underneath cut and bruised, her hair was matted with blood, and her body was still as a corpse. Was she dead?

At that moment, the bridge doors opened and a couple of Lankey’s medics arrived. They quickly moved in on Laina and began working on her.

Julius stood up slowly and gazed at the battlecruiser. The attack had stopped. He glanced at the tactical. The fighter squadron had disengaged and was headed back to the cruiser. Wolf Squadron was nowhere on the map.

“Ramey, cease fire,” he ordered.

The smoke had cleared and the bridge was finally quiet. Julius looked around, taking inventory of the condition of his officers—bruises, scratches; no fatalities. He looked at the medics treating Laina, working up the courage to ask about her condition.

“How is she?”

The lead medic shrugged. “She’s alive. Looks like some broken bones and a concussion. Won’t know more till we get her to the infirmary.”

Julius let out a sigh of relief. She was alive.

“Tell Lankey that the captain said it’s in his best interest to save this patient. Is that understood?”

The medic nodded. The two setup a stretcher and began the process of moving her out.

Julius turned back to his officers, who looked equally dumbfounded by the sudden retreat by the enemy.

“What happened, gentlemen?”

Ramey shook his head. “Sir, they had us. We did not score significant enough damage to push them back. I don’t know what happened.”

“Wolf Squadron’s gone, sir,” Garval said. “No telemetry on any of them.”

Julius suspected as much, but he could not grieve for them now.

“Any sign of wreckage to confirm?”

Garval shrugged. “There’s a lot of debris out there, sir. I can’t really say.”

They all stayed quiet a moment.

“Captain,” Jessen broke the silence. “Laina said something about jamming their communications. It appears that she got her request. That last hit completely knocked out our com, and our ability to jam.”

Julius turned to Laina, who was now on the stretcher with the medics leaving the bridge. She had done something. Whatever it was, it had saved them.

I’m sorry, Laina, he thought to himself. I should have listened.

“Sir!” Ramey pointed to the screen.

The battlecruiser was gone. They had jumped out.

Julius looked down at the bridge floor. By his boot lay Laina’s datapad. He knelt down and picked it up. The screen was full of dust particles. He wiped it and was able to activate it. The coordinates were intact. He handed it over to Jessen, then sat back in his command module.

“Plot a course to that location,” he said quietly.

“Aye, Captain.”

Julius looked up at the damage control displays. Fires raged in multiple compartments, and even the emergency venting to suppress the fires was down. The casualty report nauseated him: forty-six dead or seriously wounded, so far. The Sea Wolf itself had taken a massive beating, one she might never completely recover from—but she was not sunk yet.

“Course plotted. The capacitor is filled and gravity generators ready. On your order, sir.”

He had no idea where these coordinates lead—and even if it did lead directly to Daniel Chin and Chorus, he did not know what he was going to do when he got there. Chin was like a demon from hell, and the things his nanobots could do were nothing short of the blackest of magic.

But this was not the first time he had faced a demon. He had faced the mother of all demons once before and he had defeated her.

Now fate pushed him again—pushed him back on course to the currents of his destiny.

But this time he learned the lesson that was always in front of him, a lesson that spoke to him each time he fought against it, each time he tried to change the future. A painful lesson that cost him, and would probably continue to cost him. But now Julius understood that lesson: you can’t fight fate, it will always kick your ass.

Resigning himself to whatever the future held, he gave the order.

“Execute.”

CHAPTER 39: LUCID DREAM

Julius gawked at the main screen. Minutes went by as he studied it, wondering if he was missing something, yet he saw nothing but empty space. The hackers must have been wrong.

However, they were not alone—a coalition of forces from the UEP, Confed, and Venusians. Undoubtedly, Laina must have informed them of the location. So far, they had not made any aggressive overtures.

“Sir,” Ramey said, “do you want to go to battle alert?”

Julius tried to count the forces present. Carriers, battlecruisers, destroyers, dreadnoughts, frigates—it must have been the majority of their respective arsenals.

Once again, it was too much for the tactical computer to track, so he could not even get an accurate assessment. However, their weapon grids were inactive and they appeared to be in joint formations.

“Not yet,” Julius said. “Is com still down?”

“Yes, sir,” Jessen said, “and I still can’t get a hold of DC.”

Julius glanced at the damage control displays—there were still fires to put out and a lot of structural damage. Without the DC teams to fix it, they could lose the ship.

“Captain,” Jessen said, “I’m getting a conference request from the Confed.”

“I thought com was down?”

“It is. This is being routed internally—courtesy of the hackers, sir.”

“Open the conference,” Julius said.

The Martian Confederacy logo flashed on the screen, then an unusual face appeared. The man had thin, gray hair and wrinkled skin, his eyes dull and milky. A familiar crimson robe hung off his thin frame.

“Xanthus,” Julius asked, standing up from his command module, “you’re alive.”

“Is that you, Julius?” he asked. “I’m sorry, my vision is not what it once was. Yes, I was saved by some very skilled doctors. Although my physical body is still old, my mind thankfully remains sharp. They can’t tell me how long this weak body will last, but my will is strong.”

Julius felt relieved. Xanthus seemed like an honorable man, and it would certainly help their cause to have him on their side.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Your Excellency. I take it from the posturing of these vessels, that there is a cease-fire or truce in place?”

“You assume correctly, Captain. It was actually the easiest brokering of peace I have ever negotiated. All it took was one look at this old face. The fear that the A.I. could do this to them too—to all of us—was enough. Add to that the massacre of Venusian Peackeepers on Venus-1

the images I was shown of what the A.I. did to those people will be permanently imprinted into my mind.”

Xanthus bowed his head and stayed silent for a moment. Julius wondered what it was Xanthus was referring to– he hoped that none of the crew was a victim of it.

“Nevertheless,” Xanthus finally continued, “I am happy to say that the state of war is over between the worlds.”

Xanthus squinted his eyes.

“Is Laina with you?”

Julius felt a pang of guilt at the question.

“No. She is in the infirmary. She was injured in an attack.”

“Will she be all right?” Xanthus asked. “We have a sophisticated medical hospital in our fleet. If you would allow it, we can transfer her over and give her the best medical treatment possible.”

Julius had not received an update from Lankey, but he could not risk putting her in the hands of a potential enemy.

“The wounds are superficial. We have a good medical team here and she is expected to fully recover. But thank you for the offer just the same.”

“I see,” Xanthus said. “If the situation changes, the offer remains open. I promise we will release her to you after treatment. There will be no police action.”

“Thank you. I assume she informed you of this location?”

“You assume correctly, Captain. Our science teams have been analyzing the anomaly and are in the process of devising a plan to reveal it. Our admirals are also in conference with the other governments to form an attack plan.”

“What anomaly? Attack what?”

“Ahh, my apologies, Julius. Your sensors are not as sophisticated as what we have. If you look at the fleet’s position, you will notice we are in orbit around something. That something is hidden in the shroud—and it is huge.”

The Sea Wolf shook and he saw new damage indicators appear on screen. The fire in the aft section reached a munitions cache, igniting it. Fortunately, the cache had been nearly depleted from the earlier fight, so the explosion must have been small.

“Is everything okay?” Xanthus asked.

“Yes. What do your people think this anomaly is?”

“It is probably easier to show you. I will have a rendition of what we have compiled sent over this conference link as a gesture of good faith.”

Xanthus outstretched his hand.

“Julius, I am being told that your ship is heavily damaged and could implode. Please allow us to help you.”

Julius gave a quick glance to the damage control screen. In all the battles he had taken the Sea Wolf into, he had never seen her so shattered, but he would not submit to being boarded.

“Your Excellency, I have much respect for you, but I am not a fool. Your true concern is not about this ship, this crew, me, or even Laina. Your concern is over Chorus’ conduit. This ship will sink and the conduit with it before I allow us to be taken in as prisoners.”

“No, Julius—no,” Xanthus said. “You have me painted wrong, my friend. I am on your side; I am probably the only one who is.”

A computer-generated image appeared on the main viewscreen. It was a round space body, occupying a seemingly empty area of space off The Sea Wolf’s bow. It was within 100,000 kilometers distance and the scale on the technical readouts made it out to be moon-sized.

Moon-sized?

“Xanthus, this anomaly

I think it’s

”

“Yes, I know. It appears to be another A.I. Moon.”

So that was it. Daniel somehow took Chorus, got the information he needed out of her, and found the A.I. Moon—a parting gift from Majesty.

“Julius, I don’t have to tell you the war machine that will be unleashed upon us if the A.I.’s offspring activate the nanobot factory on that moon. We must destroy it completely.”

Julius agreed: destroying the moon was the logical thing to do. However, thoughts of Daryl filled his mind. If Chorus was right, she could save him—but only with the power of the moon.

“I have unique experience with this, Xanthus. Allow me to assist. I am probably more qualified than anyone to lead this attack.”

Xanthus stayed quiet a moment before answering. “That is a most gracious offer, Julius. But given the circumstances, I do not believe it is something that the Admiralty would agree to.”

A man appeared on the conference, quickly whispering something into Xanthus’ ear.

“Ahh,” Xanthus said, “it appears that the fleet is ready. Please keep your distance, Julius. Your ship is simply in no shape to help us. We are about to begin the plan. I must go now.”

“Wait! What is the plan?” Julius asked.

The conference link ended, and the only thing on the screen now was the graphical overlay of the invisible moon.

The coalition forces began to move. They broke formation and one of the ships, a Confed destroyer, moved closer to the moon and then stopped. Moments passed with nothing happening.

“Gentlemen, do any of you detect anything?”

His officers each worked with their instrumentation before answering.

“Captain,” Jessen said, “that lone Confed destroyer, it appears to be transmitting something. It almost looks like a wave directed at the anomaly.”

It had not occurred to Julius that the moon would be connected to the Ocean. He opened a conference channel.

“Waverider—I’m sure you’re monitoring all of this—can your team make sense of whatever that destroyer is doing?”

“Sure, one sec,” Waverider said, “almost have it.”

Just then, a sudden disturbance appeared. The empty space the moon occupied began to darken and the stars around it winked out. In its place a world suddenly appeared, but this moon was not like the one from his dreams.

Instead of a bubbling black cauldron, its cloud cover was an inviting green-blue color. It reminded him of Chorus’ hypnotic gaze. Within the cloud cover, thin bands of white ran across its axis, perfectly separated by a fixed distance, covering the moon with numerous, horizontal stripes.

“Sir—uhh, Captain,” Waverider said, “the destroyer was trying to hack into that moon’s systems. It was an abysmal failure, though. They were attempting to inject code for a simple backdoor demon.”

Julius became startled.

“Demon? What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Uhh, a demon is a kind of program. They were trying to sneak it past the moon’s firewall—”

“Okay, that will be all,” Julius cut him off.

Julius could see the destroyer begin to move in closer to the moon, followed by two other ships: one UEP and the other Venusian.

As they approached, another disturbance appeared on the surface of the moon. One of the white bands began to rise up in an arch from the cloud surface.

“Magnify,” Julius said.

The viewscreen superimposed a close-up image. The white band was a gaseous nanobot swarm. It arched up from the cloud cover like a waterfall, but remained anchored to it, forming a loop. The swarm expanded in size, rising farther out—in the direction of the incoming ships.

“Go to battle alert—but keep the weapons grid offline.”

“Aye, aye.”

The viewscreen widened to 360 degrees, and the bridge lights changed color.

The coalition ships immediately began firing at the loop. Missiles and white streaks of energy lashed out at it.

As the weapons fire impacted against it, he could see black voids within it as the nanobots were destroyed. But the gaps were rapidly replenished by the moon’s atmosphere.

The nanobot loop swung over the three ships and passed directly through them all at once. It tore through the hulls of the ships, snapping them in half like a buzz saw. Multiple explosions lit the screen as the moon claimed the three ships. After the explosions subsided, it left the bleeding wreckages of the three ships.

The loop retreated back into the surface of the moon, disappearing into the cloud cover.

Julius tried to estimate the lives that were just lost—it had to be thousands.

“Jessen, are you detecting any survival beacons?”

“Aye, sir, a few hundred life pods by the look of it. Sir, they are moving in to recover the pods.”

A group of coalition shuttles moved into position, traversing the wreckage. As they approached, another nanobot prominence emerged from the moon’s atmosphere. The gaseous loop swiped across the area, further decimating the destroyer wreckages and forcing the shuttles to retreat. The attack claimed many of the life pods.

Once it finished its deadly swoop, the loop retreated back into the cloud cover.

Julius felt nauseous again—more lives lost. Even if they were not his own crew, he did not like just standing by and watching. It reminded him of the helplessness he felt back at CSOW, during the nanobot swarm attack. He would not stay on the ground and watch helplessly.

“Jessen, are there still life pods out there?”

“Aye, Captain. I don’t have an exact count. The targeting computer is not handling it. But I’m guessing at least a couple hundred still.”

A thought occurred to him.

“What is our distance from the moon?”

“We’re at 103,737 kilometers,” Jessen said.

“What was the range of the shuttles and destroyers—when the prominence attacked?”

Ramey brought up a replay of the attack—and overlaid distance labels.

“Exactly 105,000 kilometers,” Julius read aloud. “Does that not strike you as odd, gentlemen?”

The officers looked at each other a moment, but it was Ramey who figured it out first.

“Why aren’t we also being attacked?” Ramey asked.

“Exactly,” Julius said. “We’re well inside its range.”

Julius looked to his side—where Laina would normally be. Despite having practically thrown her off the bridge, he wished she were by his side now. She would have probably encouraged him to rescue the pods.

“We are going to help them. Jessen, are the capacitors full for a jump?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Punch in an escape coordinate—anywhere but here. Get ready to take us into the wreckage, but keep your finger on the jump button.

“Ramey, be ready to use a tow beam to scoop the pods into our landing deck. You will have to be quick about it. I don’t know how much time we’ll have before we’re attacked.”

They both acknowledged.

Julius knew he was risking the ship, but one look at the damage control display told him it did not much matter, though. The ship was as good as sunk anyway—and soon it would be the coalition forces scooping their life pods up.

“Execute.”

The Sea Wolf moved in.

The wreckage was profoundly devastating. Chunks, larger than the Sea Wolf, drifted—bleeding gases and plasma in their wake.

As they approached one of the derelicts, he could read the name on what remained of its hull: UES Mystic. The UEP had sent in its most damaged ship—the easiest one to sacrifice

a tactical decision. Their reputation for making ruthless military decisions was very much intact.

Their tow beam began drawing in the drifting life pods. Ramey adeptly pulsed the beam on multiple targets at once, just enough to initiate inertia, thereby being able to pull many at a time into their landing deck.

“Captain,” Jessen said, “something’s wrong with navigation. We’ve lost propulsion control.”

Julius looked at the damage control screen. Red lights appeared near the engine room. The only thing they could do now was make stellar jumps. Julius gazed at the machine moon. Still no activity from it.

“I guess we’re anchored here, then. Continue rescue operation.”

He wondered why the moon was not attacking them. Why did it not consider them a threat? Was it due to the condition the ship was in—but then why attack the unarmed rescue shuttles?

“Sir, some good news,” Jessen said. “I managed to get com working—with some help from Waverider’s team.”

As much as he did not want to admit it, Chorus’ hackers had proved valuable—despite the difficulty he had understanding them.

“Very good. Send them my gratitude.”

“You’re welcome, Captain,” Waverider’s voice sounded.

Julius had given up trying to prevent them from tapping into everything on the ship. They would remain as invisible members of the bridge crew for the time being.

Raising his command module, Julius moved closer to the viewscreen. He studied the A.I. Moon. Somewhere on that thing was Chorus, and she was the only thing in the universe right now that could save Daryl. He moved his module back to its home position.

“Open a conference channel to Xanthus’ ship.”

“Yes, sir,” Jessen said. “Actually, they were just trying to connect with us.”

Xanthus’ face appeared on the screen.

“Julius—first, thank you for retrieving the survivors. I hope that you will treat them as well as you treated us. Now

how are you managing to not trigger the moon’s defenses?”

Julius had no idea why—but Xanthus did not know that.

“I can’t tell you, Your Excellency—for now it will remain a secret. However, I again ask to help lead the assault on the moon. What was your plan?”

“The plan is to deactivate the moon’s defenses by breaking into its systems, then land a coalition marine task force on its surface. They will deploy in special transports that are shielded with a technology that can protect its occupants from nanobot attacks. They will then infiltrate the nanobot factory and destroy it with a special bomb they carry.

“Obviously, the first part of the plan failed—we cannot deactivate the moon defenses. But it appears you have found a way around that.”

“Yes I have, “ Julius said, “so you’re going to have to trust me. Put the marines under my command, and I will lead the assault.”

Xanthus dropped his gaze, and he did not speak for a moment.

“Julius, it would be extremely ill advised and inappropriate for you to lead these forces. Please, tell us how you are circumventing the moon defenses and I promise to reward you and the entire crew of the Sea Wolf. I guarantee you amnesty from all the major governments: Martian Confederacy, United Earth Parliament, and the Venusian Initiative. I will draw up the agreement immediately and make it happen.”

The officers all turned to him. For the first time in a while, he saw hopeful faces. This was going to be difficult.

“No,” Julius said, “I cannot provide you that information. You give me those transports and bombs, and I will destroy the moon. And in addition to the amnesty, you will also honor the monetary terms from our original deal.”

“With the fate of humanity at stake, we squabble over money—”

“Don’t presume to lecture me on ethics,” Julius interrupted. “This is not the first time I have put the lives of me and my crew on the line to save humanity. But unlike last time, I am going to make sure there is a life to come back to when this is over—a life that is worthwhile. Do we have an accord?”

Xanthus let out a breath—he looked tired and weary.

“I must first confer with the other worlds. You must understand it is not a decision that is under my sole discretion. Please stand by.”

The screen went dark and they waited. At the speed that bureaucracy normally operated, he expected Xanthus to die of old age by the time they reached a consensus. To his surprise, he came back within minutes.

“Very well. It appears we are going to put our trust in you, my friend. The worlds have agreed to your terms. I am transmitting the document. It contains the seal of all the three worlds. However, we could not secure the cooperation of the Space Habitat Coalition, but I would think that is a small matter. I suppose you will make us wait to review the document prior to helping us?”

“No, Xanthus, I am counting on your honor for those finer details. Let’s begin this operation before the A.I. finds a way to activate that factory.”

“Your trust is well placed with me, my friend. I understand that your propulsion system is out. I will have my tactical officer coordinate with you on a plan to have you rendezvous with the marine shuttles, where they will be placed under your command.”

“Another request, Your Excellency. I do not want that sergeant of yours among the marines.”

Xanthus chuckled. “You won’t have to worry about that. Sergeant Premley has apparently gone AWOL—nobody knows where he is.”

Julius smiled. “Probably lost up his own ass. Thank you for trusting me, Xanthus.”

The conference ended. Ramey linked the Sea Wolf’s telemetry feed with the coalition forces. This filled their tactical with additional details and important information their own computer was unable to provide—and it marked all the targets.

Now they needed to get the marine transports on board the Sea Wolf. Unfortunately, with propulsion out, this was not possible. He could have used a shuttle to rendezvous with the marine ships—but whatever was protecting the Sea Wolf from attack might not extend to shuttles leaving it.

It did not take Xanthus long to realize the reason for Julius’ delays.

“You don’t know why you’re protected, do you, Captain? That is why you won’t disembark your ship.”

Julius simply did not have anything to refute him with.

“What I do know is that I am the best man to lead the attack. I’m sure you’ve read my files and know this.”

Xanthus’ silence spoke his misgivings. Julius had to think of a plan—something that would allow them to safely land the marine ships onto the Sea Wolf.

“Wait, there is a way we can make this work.”

Julius explained it to him: using projection technology, the Confed would produce decoys for the moon defenses to attack. The diversion would allow the transports to sneak aboard the Sea Wolf.

Once aboard, the Sea Wolf would jump as close to the moon’s atmosphere as possible so that they could launch the marine transports. However, there was risk in jumping so close.

The moon’s own gravity field might be strong enough to overload the gravitational amplifiers, preventing the stellar jump and knocking out the generators in the process. Moreover, with the condition the ship was in, the additional stress could rupture the hull and send the Sea Wolf to Davy Jones’ Locker.

“Jump drive at the ready,” Jessen said.

“All set here sir,” Ramey said, “at your command.”

The Sea Wolf and the coalition ships were coordinating their actions through Ramey’s station. At his command, the Martian Confederacy was ready to send over the real and projected marine transports. It might be the last order he would ever give.

“Ramey, initiate the operation.”

CHAPTER 40: UNSUNG HEROES

There were voices she could not comprehend, but they were not talking to her. She heard a beeping sound, the occasional clattering of metal, along with the resonating ping of a metal tray.

Laina’s eyes were closed. She moved her head slightly and felt something tight against her skin—bandages.

She felt sore and exhausted. She did not want to wake up, and fell back into a daze—landing somewhere between consciousness and sleep.

For some reason, she began to dream—a dream about the last meeting she had with Chorus. Reece, Eddie, and the hackers were also there. It was a secret meeting that took place in her quarters—not even Julius knew about it.

Laina led them in,. When the doors shut, she turned around to look at them and despite the seriousness of the gathering, almost giggled at the sight of them.

Reece’s pilot jacket was torn and dusty, his face barely discernable underneath his scraggly, unkempt beard.

Eddie, proudly wearing his eye patch, had Chorus perched on his shoulder in her parrot form. There was no way Laina could distance herself from the reality that this was indeed a pirate ship.

They all gathered around a table. Of the hackers, though, only Haylek joined them, as the others would not leave their terminals.

“Chorus, why don’t you explain it,” Laina said.

Chorus jumped off Eddie’s shoulder, gliding down to the ground. A haze of nanobots erupted out of her feathers and she morphed back into her human form. Now wearing a gray spacer uniform, she sat with them.

Chorus explained how she foresaw that, ultimately, Daniel Chin would find her and take her. If this happened, they would need to stay as far away from him as possible.

“What if he does find us?” Eddie asked. “What then?”

“We must make sure he does not,” Chorus said.

“Well, that’s no plan at all,” Eddie said. “We have to have a plan in case he does.”

Chorus would not answer him, and they stayed quiet for a moment.

“What will happen to you

when he takes you?” Haylek asked, breaking the silence.

“After Daniel captures me, he will attempt to mate with me—”

“Mate?” Reece interrupted.

Chorus nodded and continued. “It is not the same as mating between human couples. It is a process where we will share each other’s minds—our very essence—with each other. Once mated, he will have the knowledge he needs to find the A.I. Moon, and activate the factory. If he does this, humanity is doomed.”

“You said you foresee this happening,” Haylek said, “like there’s no way to stop it. We can’t stop it?”

Chorus’ eyes looked up—their green luminescence seemed to grow brighter for a moment, then it subsided and she returned her gaze to them.

“The events in the entropy of time are too far along. He will capture me; that part is unavoidable now. However, I will resist the mating and I do not believe he can force it.”

“He’s going to try to rape you?” Haylek asked, seemingly upset by this.

Chorus smiled at him. “Do not worry—it is not like it sounds. It will not hurt. He tried to extract this information from me forcibly before, back when my conduit was imprisoned at Omega Research Corporation, although I did not know then that it was my brother. But I resisted then, and I will resist him again.

“However, there are things that I cannot foresee. For this reason I am entrusting a piece of me to you, Waverider.”

She pointed at his chest, where something underneath his shirt began to illuminate. He reached under and brought out a glowing jewel necklace.

“Some of my essence is in there,” she said. “It is a mini-conduit. Inside, I have hidden a missing piece of data that I have erased from my own consciousness. This is knowledge he must never possess.”

“What knowledge?” Reece asked.

“The keys to activate the moon’s factory, among other things.”

They agreed to keep their meeting a secret from Julius, and that they would protect the jewel at all costs. As the meeting ended, Chorus asked to speak to Laina, Reece, and Haylek privately. Haylek had to forcibly usher the hackers out of the room. The three of them were now alone with Chorus.

“There is something I must tell you,” Chorus said. “Eddie is correct: we must have a plan in case he does find you. I have already explained the importance of keeping the data on the factory hidden in Waverider’s jewel, but there is another piece of data that is hidden in my main conduit. Something that can be even more dangerous than the factory keys—”

Laina felt a stab in her arm and jumped—floating into consciousness for a moment. Her eyes opened for a split second. Everything was blurry and she saw a figure standing over her. Groggily, she closed her eyes and fell again into that dazed dream.

“Won’t destroying the conduit also destroy you?” Reece asked.

Chorus slowly nodded.

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Reece said.

“I am but one life, Reece. If my death will save humanity, it is a sacrifice I will gladly make.”

Laina looked over at the conduit. It did not look like something they could easily destroy.

“So how would we destroy it, even if we wanted to?” Laina asked.

Chorus gestured to Reece.

“You know, huh?” Reece asked.

He pursed his lips and pulled something out of his jacket. It was a handheld device with a single switch on it.

“It’s a remote detonator,” he said. “There are explosives all around the conduit. I’m sorry, Laina. I didn’t know anything about it; Julius gave this to me. I’m supposed to be the dead man switch on this.”

Reece handed it to Laina.

“I’m a fighter pilot,” he said. “I might get taken out at any time, so it’s safer in your hands.”

Laina should have been fuming at Julius for this—but there was just too much else to worry about. She took the device and Reece explained to her how to use it.

“Fine,” Laina said. “So if Daniel finds us, I blow it up.”

“No,” Chorus said, “you must wait for the right moment. When his essence is also inside the conduit, then you must blow it up. It is the only way to destroy him.”

“How will I know when that is?” Laina asked.

“One look at my conduit will tell you.”

“I don’t know about this,” Laina said.

“You must be ready to do this,” Chorus said. “The fate of humanity depends on it.”

Laina said nothing, but only stared down at the switch in her hand.

“Wake up, Laina. Wake up.”

She heard Chorus’ voice whisper to her.

But it was not the dream—Laina heard her voice somehow in the here and now.

Laina did wake up. Her vision was blurry at first, but it cleared up enough to see that she was lying on a bunk in the ship’s infirmary. She had bandages wrapped around her forehead, and a cast on her left leg. Some wires and tubes came out of her, tethered to some medical equipment.

She had to get out of there—get to her quarters and be ready to blow up the conduit. The medics and Lankey were on the far side of the infirmary, working on another patient. She needed to sneak out and now was the time.

Still feeling dizzy and in some pain, Laina pulled out the tubes and wires, then swung off the bunk. Laina managed to limp her way out of the infirmary and into the corridor. It was up to her now, she knew. She would have to blow up the conduit when the time was right—even if it meant sacrificing her own life in the explosion.

As she limped to the elevator, she hoped Chorus was right and that she would somehow know when to do it. As Chorus put it, the fate of humanity depended on it.

******

So far, the plan worked. The A.I. Moon’s death loop went after the decoys, giving the marine transports enough time to make it to the Sea Wolf. After the nanobot prominence touched the decoys, it looked as if was headed to the real transports, but as they got closer to the Sea Wolf, it retreated back into the moon’s atmosphere.

With marines in the landing bay, it was time to make the stellar jump that would put the ship in low orbit over the moon.

“Gentlemen,” Julius said, “if this doesn’t work, it’s been a fun voyage. Jessen, initiate jump.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Julius heard the gravity generators rev up, and the whine increased to a fever pitch, but nothing happened.

For a moment, he thought the plan failed—then he felt the familiar sensation that accompanied stellar jumps, followed by the scariest sound he had ever heard the Sea Wolf make.

It was as if a giant hand had wrapped around the ship and squeezed it into a ball of scrap metal. Panels and rivets literally flew off the walls. Mini-explosions and the sound of gas leaking from ruptures filled his ears. Despite hovering in his command module, he could actually see the bridge buckle around him.

A bright flash from somewhere on the bridge blinded him. He closed his eyes, and then the chaos stopped.

When he opened them back up, he half-expected to be sitting in a field on the Milky Way Farm. Instead, the bridge was still there—he was still there—and the blue-green cloud cover of the moon filled the main viewscreen.

It had worked.

Julius looked around the bridge; no one appeared to be injured. He then looked up at the damage control display. Unfortunately, the display itself was damaged.

“Jessen, ship status?”

Jessen took a moment to respond, apparently a little rattled.

“Sorry, sir,” he said. “Jump was successful, and we are in low orbit around the moon. Damage is extensive: stellar jump system is offline, starboard reactor offline, weapons grid offline, shields offline, significant ruptures in the hull—emergency doors have sealed off compartments to prevent decompression

”

The list went on—the Sea Wolf was effectively sunk.

“Captain,” Murdock’s voice came on. “We’ve got a fuck-in-the-ass problem.”

“Add it to the list. Go ahead.”

“It’s the weapon ammo feed. The containment field in the cyclotron is failing, and the system is locked in an endless loop. I can’t shut it down.”

“What’s that mean to us, Murdock?”

“It means the hull of this ship is going to look like Swiss cheese if we can’t stop it. A shitload of accelerated protons will be firing in all directions—from the inside out.”

“And you can’t stop it?” Julius asked.

Murdock took a moment to answer. “No, Julius. All I can do is delay it a little bit. If the degradation continues at this same rate, we have an hour before we have to abandon ship.”

“That won’t be an option until this moon is dealt with. Our pods will be destroyed by it. You better stretch that hour as much as you can, Murdock.”

“I’ll do what I can, asshole. Murdock out.”

It was time to continue the plan. Julius exited his command module.

“I’m going with the marines now,” he said. “Ramey, you are in command.”

Julius looked around the bridge.

“Gentlemen, I don’t know if I will make it back from this. Your orders are to keep the ship together until the last possible moment, then hit the escape pods.”

Ramey stood up and approached him.

“Ramey,” Julius said, “if you abandon ship, there is a patient in the infirmary that you must get to safety. It’s my brother.”

“Daryl?” Ramey asked. “Of course, sir. I will.”

The officers were all looking at him now. Ramey began a salute, and the others joined him. Julius saluted back—they knew this would be it.

“Godspeed, sir,” Jessen said.

“To you all as well,” Julius said. He then turned to the elevator and exited the bridge—probably for the last time.

He soon arrived at the landing deck. A contingent of marines awaited him, all dressed in full body armor and carrying rifles—twenty-four of them, all Martian Confederacy.

The lead marine—a Lieutenant Frost—saluted him. Frost was a rough-looking character with a completely impassive expression. His name suited him.

Julius saluted back.

“We’re ready,” Frost said.

Julius pointed to the Confederacy insignia on Frost’s uniform.

“I guess it’s just us and the Confederacy? I would have thought at least the Vens would volunteer some forces.”

Frost raised his chin with a very slight grin.

“After what the A.I. did to them on Venus-1, it appears that the Vens yellow uniforms got yellower.”

“What happened on Venus-1

” Julius started to ask.

“Captain,” Haylek interrupted. “I have to go with you.”

Julius turned around, ready to tell him to get off the landing deck, but then he saw something that caught him off guard.

Hanging from the hacker’s neck was a jewel that glowed a kaleidoscope of colors, but what shocked him was the image floating inside it: Chorus’ face, her eyes closed, inside the jewel.

It seemed as if he now knew what was protecting the ship—but if Haylek came with them, the moon would attack the Sea Wolf.

“You have to stay here,” Julius said, pointing at the jewel. “It’s what’s protecting the ship.”

Haylek shook his head. “Chorus told me to go—and that the ship would still be protected by her conduit. She told me the moon’s defenses would not attack any ship with a conduit in it. And I have to go with you.”

“Just give me the jewel,” Julius said. “You can stay here. This mission is dangerous—”

“No!” he said. “I have to go with you. There is something I have to do when I get there

something Chorus told me I have to do.”

“Fine,” Julius said finally.

On the other end of the landing deck, beyond the blue force field, Julius could see the atmosphere of the A.I. Moon waiting for them. It was time.

“Let’s go,” Julius said.

CHAPTER 41: SAVAGE INTELLIGENCE

They would take two ships, with twelve marines in each. Julius and Haylek joined Frost’s transport. The catapults in the landing deck were offline, so they would be piloting the ships manually.

Julius went to the front cabin and asked the marine in the copilot seat to vacate it. The marine hesitated and looked over to Frost, who was piloting.

“Captain Verndock,” Frost said, “my orders are to take you, and these marines, to the moon’s surface. If we make it there alive, I am to put myself under your command. Until that time, hit the fucking back.”

Julius could see the two marines put their hands on their sidearms for emphasis—biting his lip he returned to the rear.

The two transports launched from the Sea Wolf and dove into the moon’s atmosphere.

“Man, I don’t know how that thing hasn’t blown up yet,” Julius heard a marine say—obviously referring to the Sea Wolf.

Julius could not bring himself to look through the porthole at the damage, but the look he gave the marine—the kind of look that said “I will rip your intestines out and strangle you with them if you make another remark like that”—silenced him.

The transports plunged through the atmosphere, without any reprisals from the moon.

When they finally got to low altitude, Julius gazed out the porthole to see the landscape. He was expecting to see green lattice lines and artificial structures like the original moon from his dreams, but this was different.

The entire landscape was flat and appeared to be made of a transparent, glass-like material—totally devoid of any visible structure.

As the ship banked and turned, Julius could see something underneath the transparent ground. When they landed, he would be able to get a better look.

“There’s breathable atmosphere,” Frosts’ voice sounded on the speakers. “Gravity is one-g; radiation and temperature are within safe levels. But we’ll still be in enviro-gear just in case. We’re landing now, get ready.”

Julius looked over to Haylek. He had a terminal on his lap and had not yet changed into an enviro-suit.

“You need to get the suit on,” Julius said to him.

Haylek shook his head. “I’m supposed to stay in here. The transport shielding will protect me and the jewel.”

Julius did not understand what role Haylek was supposed to play in this, but Chorus seemed to have all this planned, so he would have to trust it.

The transport landed. The plan now was to get them near the moon’s factory. When the marines secured the structure, another team would plant a fission antimatter bomb and fly out before it blew.

Julius inspected his twin Gemini pistols, knowing that the final part of the plan would be delayed. He was going to rescue Chorus first; the bomb would wait until he knew Daryl was saved.

A glint of light reflected off the metal of the pistols. If the marines tried to stop him, he would need to take action. Nothing was standing in the way of helping Daryl—nothing and nobody.

Frost walked in from the pilot cabin. He stood in front of Julius and saluted. Julius ignored him, continuing to polish the metal on his pistols. Then he casually holstered them before standing up. He finally saluted back.

“By order of the Coalition of the Three Worlds, I am now under your command, Captain.”

“At ease,” Julius said. “Give me a sitrep.”

“Both transports have safely touched down. We are approximately three hundred meters from the factory entrance. There are no signs of movement and no contact with automated hostile defenses. Nevertheless, ENDS is activated on both transports and we await your orders.”

“Ends?”

“Enhanced Nanobot Defense Shield,” Frost said.

“Ah. So what is the plan?” Julius asked.

A holographic projection appeared, and they huddled around it. The map showed their current position and the factory entrance, which was easy to pick out since there were no other structures on the whole moon.

The single structure stood twelve meters tall, emerging from what looked like a hole in the ground. When he looked closer, Julius noticed the structure looked like a crystal.

“Underneath that structure,” Frost said, “is an opening that leads into the moon’s core. That is the target area where we will plant the bomb.”

“That looks like a conduit,” Julius said. “Do we have any intelligence on this structure?”

“Negative, sir,” Frost said. “All we know is that it is directly above the factory output stem, where the nanobots would exit upon production.”

Julius stared at him. “How does the Confed know all of this?”

Frost shook his head. “I do not know, sir. I am only reporting the intelligence I was given.”

Julius knew there was more to this. The Confed knew too much, but he would have to investigate that later—if there was a later.

“What happens if we are taken out—what’s the backup plan?” Julius asked.

“If we are killed, the backup team will use the transports to try and drop the bomb themselves into the target area. However, there is less guarantee for success at that point.”

Julius looked at the marines as they all looked at him. Despite the tough training and discipline they went through, he knew they must felt uneasy about this mission. It was up to him and Frost to keep the façade of bravery going.

“All right, marines,” Julius said, “we’re about to become pages in a history book. Let’s kill this thing.”

The marines gave a rallying cry as they readied their suits and weapons. They moved into the pressure bay. Julius gave a look toward Haylek, who was busy on a terminal, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. Julius put his helmet on and joined the others.

Inside the pressure bay, the exit ramp opened, revealing the alien landscape. Julius, flanked by twelve marines, marched out of the transport. The remaining twelve stayed behind, partly to guard the transports and also to move in with the bomb when called.

The sky was more blue than green from here—and the ground was indeed glass-like. He peered into it, attempting to see what was underneath. Although there was definitely something underneath it, the murky glass obscured the details.

As they trekked across the alien landscape, one of the marines suddenly stopped. Alarmed, the others raised their rifles. Julius reflexively drew his pistols. The marine’s eyes were transfixed onto the ground and he wore a terrified expression. “LT,” He pointed down. “Look!”

They all huddled around him. Underneath the transparent ground was a disturbing sight. A man in a Confed Navy uniform floated below them, in a frozen, statuesque-like pose. It stirred a vision in Julius’ mind of the A.I. Moon and the dream—as if his life was reliving a replay of those days.

“Nothing we can do for him,” Julius said.

Another marine called them over to another spot. They walked over to find another uniformed officer in a similar frozen state. Julius knelt down to get a closer look.

As he peered deeper into the chasm, he could make out the dark silhouettes of more people—hundreds, maybe more—trapped in that suspended state.

He traced the frozen bodies in his mind, following them across the darkness until his eyes landed on another fossil from the past—something he had not seen in over a hundred years.

HAMRs!

A dozen of them— arranged in combat formation, bearing the Delta Black markings on its hull. The same ones from the original moon.

How did Majesty move them to this moon?

And then it dawned on him. This was not a new moon

it was the same moon. The same one they thought they destroyed all those years ago. How did Majesty do this?

“LT, we have to do something,” the marine pleaded with Frost. “That’s Ensign George Brown down there. I’ve known him for years!”

“Get it together, marine,” Frost said. “We have a mission to accomplish. These men died for their mission. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”

An idea occurred to Julius.

“They’re not dead,” Julius said, “they’re in stasis. I’ve encountered this before.”

The marines looked to Frost with uncertainty on their faces.

Frost walked up to Julius and whispered, “What are you doing, Captain? We have a job to do here.”

“We need to save these people, if we can,” Julius said, “and that’s what we’re going to do first. I’m ordering you to help them, Lieutenant.”

Frost’s impassiveness broke and he glared at Julius. “Are you out of your mind? How would you intend us to do that? We don’t the equipment to drill into this ground!”

Julius gestured to the transports. “Use the bomb.”

Frost moved close to Julius.

“My orders are to be under your command, unless it contradicts the mission to plant the bomb. If you contradict that mission, Captain

”

He pointed the end of his rifle at Julius’ rib cage.

“I have another set of orders I will carry out. Do you get my meaning?”

Julius smiled at him, pushing the end of the Gemini pistol he held into Frost’s crotch.

“There will either be a very sad wife or widow at your home—do you get my meaning?”

The marines, who became aware of the conflict, had their rifles trained on Julius. Laser markers illuminated his chest and head.

“What’s it going to be, Julius?” Frost asked. “The dead men under the ground, or the dead men that will soon be under the ground? I’m not going to back down.”

Julius felt he was probably telling the truth. He had hoped to delay the team’s mission with this, so that he could rescue Chorus first—but this was not getting anywhere.

“All right, Frost,” he said. “I’m holstering my weapon. Let’s continue with the mission.”

Julius stepped back and put his pistol away. Frost lowered his rifle.

“You have a lot of mettle in you, Lieutenant,” Julius said. “I could have used someone like you as part of my crew.”

Frost broke his impassiveness again and smiled. “Funny, I was thinking the same of you.”

Frost ordered the marines to flank around them again, agreeing to let Julius continue to lead the mission, but this time he walked behind Julius—keeping him in his sights.

In the distance, the crystal structure loomed. It sat on top of a circular base, with steps around it that led up to the crystal.

As they got closer, Julius could see a figure standing next to it, but it was still too far to make out who, or what, it was. The marines held their rifles at the ready, taking more cautious steps as they got closer.

When they got to the top, Julius was able to finally make out the figure: Chorus.

She was standing still, her eyes closed and head down—the same face he saw in Haylek’s jewel. A couple of tubes came out of her and were tethered to some kind of machine that was a meter away from her.

“Orders?” Frost whispered.

“Hold your fire,” Julius said.

They flanked out around the base of the crystal structure into defensive positions.

Julius peered at the base of the crystal and saw a half-meter gap around it, a space that led underground. The crystal itself looked similar to the one from the conduit—except larger.

Julius walked over to Chorus.

“Chorus, can you hear me?”

She was non-responsive.

Julius looked at the machine she was connected to. It looked out of place. It had a terminal, various controls, and a tank of white liquid, which seemed to be feeding Chorus through the tubes.

“That’s an Elation processor,” Frost said, standing beside him.

“How do you know that?” Julius asked.

“I used to take down whole Elation operations in a former job, Captain.”

“Elation?” Julius asked rhetorically.

“Team Black,” Frost said, “deliver the package.”

“Acknowledged,” a voice responded.

Frost walked over to the crystal and pointed at the gap.

“We’ll drop the payload in there,” he said. “It will free fall to the core of the moon and blow up inside it. We will have less than two minutes to evac.”

Julius inspected the tubes coming out of Chorus. He tugged at one of them, but it was firmly inside her. He would have to sever it somehow.

“Lieutenant, do you have any cutting tools? We need to free her.”

Frost called over one of the marines, who had a backpack of supplies. He rummaged through it and then came over to Julius with a beam torch in hand. As he approached, Julius was startled to hear an unusual voice.

“Hello, lil’ ants,” it said.

The marines whirled around, their rifles leveling at the figure. It was a short man in a black trench coat—his hair closely cropped and black. His facial features looked like Earth

Asian.

“You need t’step away from m’girl der, marine-boy,” Daniel Chin said. “If ya know what’s good fo ya.”

Frost took a step forward, and without hesitating, fired at Chin. The other marines joined in the attack.

Julius crouched down beside Chorus, as reflections of light flashed around them from the flicker fire that ensued.

Eventually, the shooting stopped, and Chin was lying flat on the ground. Julius could see holes riddling his body and thin strings of smoke floating up from the burnt fabric. His body was still and appeared lifeless.

Frost approached it, rifle still trained on him.

“Stay away from him,” Julius warned. “He’s not dead.”

Frost ignored him, aiming the rifle at Chin’s head.

“He is now,” he said as he pulled his trigger.

The flicker fire passed through Chin’s head and disappeared without leaving a mark. Above Frost’s head, the blue streak reappeared and slashed through his helmet, sending Frost down to the ground, dead.

Daniel Chin’s eyes opened and his reanimated body shot to its feet. He paused a moment, giving the closest marine a cheek-to-cheek smile, then charged at him with inhuman speed.

Chin grabbed the marine’s arms, and, while kicking with one foot, pulled—ripping them out of their sockets and flinging the bloody limbs onto the ground. The man yelled in agony as he slumped to the ground, blood gushing out and spraying Chin’s face, his smile never vanishing even as the blood painted his white teeth red.

The other marines moved in, firing at Chin with their rifles, but this time the flicker fire did nothing to him.

He charged the next marine, grabbing him by the throat. The marine tried to pull his hand off, but his struggle was in vain. The A.I squeezed so hard that it popped the bones and blood vessels in his neck. Blood oozed down Chin’s arm, and he kept squeezing until the head rolled down to the ground.

Another marine dropped his rifle and went at Chin with a vibro-knife, ramming the blade into his back. Chin looked down at the protruding blade that stuck out of his belly. He forced his hand into his body and pulled the marine’s arm, knife and all, through his belly—the marine stumbled forward and tried in vain to pull away.

“How does that old nursery rhyme go?” Chin said. “This little piggy went to market

”

The man yelled in agony as Chin ripped his fingers off, one-by-one—while reciting the rhyme’s verses. The other marines stood still, seemingly stunned by the A.I.’s power and savagery.

“

and this little piggy went, wee wee wee,” Chin finished and let go. The marine stumbled away, holding his fingerless and bleeding hand.

Chin turned to him and laughed—and continued to laugh—even as he rammed his fists inside the marine’s torso, ripping bones out of his rib cage. Ignoring the yelling and struggling from the man, he casually tossed the ribs at the feet of the other marines, one by one. Mercifully, the battered man expired, falling to the ground, his eyes staring on lifelessly.

Covered in blood, Chin went after the other ones. Some of them tried to run, some of them tried to fight, either way the result was the same. Chin flew at them, dispatching them in other grisly and inventive ways.

Before long only one remained. The last marine managed to run off the base of the structure and continue off into the landscape, toward the transports.

Daniel Chin watched him run, then reached down and picked up a bloody rib from the ground. He inspected the rib for a moment, then ran his hand up it—manifesting a sharp point at its end.

He then drew his hand back and flung the bone at the running marine. The projectile twirled in the air at least twenty meters on its way to its target—imbedding itself into the back of the marine’s skull.

The man fell forward to the ground, at the feet of another group of marines who were on their way with the bomb. They looked at the macabre scene and stood still, apparently in shock.

Chin ignored the marines and the bomb, chuckling as he turned to Julius. As he approached, Chin licked the blood from his teeth and fingers, as if he savored the taste.

“You must be the pirate captain.” His voice was different now, devoid of the slum accent. “The one that cost old Jack Dagiri his dreams.”

Julius stood up. Despite everything he had been through in over a century of warfare, his hands were trembling at the sight of the killing rampage he’d just witnessed.

“You must be Chorus’ brother—Daniel Chin,” Julius said, trying to keep his voice steady. “From what I’ve seen, you definitely take more after your mother than Chorus.”

Chin smiled, then an eruption of nanobots engulfed him and his form changed.

He was now an old man, with white hair and a long white beard that draped over a grey robe. Chin’s eyes continued to glow blue, betraying the façade of the human visage he created.

“I am many things,” Chin said, “and many people. I am the culmination of trillions of computations made by Majesty—and the billions of neural pathways that I absorbed into my being from those humans who crossed my path.”

Chin motioned to the Elation processor.

“Dagiri brought me the last piece I needed. However tiny it might have been in comparison to the rest of me, his neural contribution helped me bring my sister to her knees.”

Julius looked at the tubes. He now understood its purpose.

“You have her hooked on Elation?” he asked. “So you can control her?”

Chin tilted his head and shrugged. “I know, I know. It wasn’t the most elegant solution, but it had the virtue of being most original, and of course, it worked—somewhat anyway.”

Chin walked up to Chorus’ inanimate form and looked at her sleeping face.

“She is quite stubborn, you see,” he said. “She held back as much as she could, but in the end, the potency of Elation was just too much for even her to resist.”

Chin touched the umbilical Elation pump.

“How ironic isn’t it?” he said. “That a primitive human addiction would be the thing that mesmerizes a being of such supreme power and elegance.”

Chin planted a kiss on Chorus’ forehead.

“I beguile thee with my spellbinding kiss, sister,” Chin said with a laugh.

He returned his attention to Julius.

“My sister is intelligent—we are of the same brood after all—she must have anticipated all of this. So the knowledge that I require is no longer inside her—it is somewhere else. Where I do not know.”

He paced around Chorus as he spoke.

“She was very thorough in this. In fact, she was so thorough that she even erased the knowledge of where she put the knowledge.”

Chin chuckled at that, then pointed a finger at Julius.

“You—you know where it is, I suspect. Unfortunately, this knowledge is probably buried in your short-term memory. So if I download your mind into mine, I won’t get that information and the knowledge will die with you.

“Therefore, I must resort to other means,” he said, gesturing to the bodies on the ground. “I will torture you, your entire crew, Laina, and everyone else that matters to you. Whatever it takes to get what I want and there is nothing you or any human can do to stop me.”

Chin approached Julius and paused, staring down at him with those glowing blue eyes. Julius braced himself for what would probably be coming.

“You can prevent this ugly business,” Chin finally said, “if you simply tell me where she hid the data.”

Julius shook his head. “I don’t have it and I don’t know where it—”

Suddenly, Julius felt himself lift off the ground and fly back against the crystal. He was pinned against it, and every nerve in his body came alive with the most intense pain he had ever felt—like he was on fire—but the pain was not just on his skin, it was everywhere: his tongue, his eyes, the tips of his toes. His entire being was on fire.

“Tell me where it is,” he heard Chin’s voice boom.

The pain abruptly stopped.

“Speak,” Chin said.

Julius tried to catch his breath. The experience left him in a daze and his muscles continued to spasm from the trauma. He looked up at Chin, trying to focus on the old man’s face.

“I

” Julius managed. “I

don’t know.”

Chin scowled at him; the blue light from his eyes became blinding.

“Then die!” Daniel Chin roared.

Julius felt his body stretched and pulled by an invisible force—his limbs stretching out from their sockets, his neck beginning to snap. His final thought was of Laina; the way he could feel her when she fell on top of him on the bridge—her hair draped on him, her eyes, her feminine smell intoxicating him. He wished he could have been with her, but it was now too late. He failed her—and his crew.

The last thing Julius saw was his body being ripped apart: his limbs flying away from his torso, his insides erupting out of his belly. It happened so fast that the pain barely had enough time to register before his world turned into a frozen, still black.

Julius Verndock, the once captain of the dreaded pirate ship the Sea Wolf, was dead.

******

Haylek stared at his terminal, ignoring the pain in his head caused by the unquenched Elation thirst. He let the world around him disappear and the virtual world engulf him as he surfed the waves of the Ocean.

Earlier, he had latched onto the carrier wave emanating from the moon that fed the heartbeat signal to Chin’s worm programs. With help from the other hackers on the Sea Wolf, he managed to break past the moon’s firewall and enter its core data matrix.

Inside the core, he could see a complex web of corridors, each carrying packets of data relays going to and from the Ocean. These relays communicated with Chin’s worm program, waiting for the final program instructions that would cause massive chaos across all the stellar nations—or at least, that’s what they thought it would do.

They were not exactly sure what the worm actually did. However, the fact that the target of the worm appeared to be the core environmental systems of all the stellar nations meant it would be bad.

As he scanned across the core matrix, Haylek noticed one corridor that looked out of place. It branched out of the core’s nucleus in a straight line, then dead-ended before connecting to anything else. It reminded him of something he’d seen before—could it be?

Haylek’s probe was orbiting the outskirts of the core, trying to avoid detection by the security sentries. In order to get into that lone corridor, he would need to get past the sentries and enter the nucleus itself, then jump into the corridor from there. It would not be easy.

If the sentries caught him, his probe would be destroyed and his terminal signature stored in the defense grid. Once that happened, the outer defenses would immediately identify him, stopping his probe from ever re-entering the core from this terminal.

Haylek leaned back and winced as his head hit the cabin wall, amplifying the Elation headache. He heard a chuckle from the only marine left in the transport.

“Bet ya wish you had a desk, eh?” he said.

Haylek looked at him. Although he wore the same uniform as the other marines, he was shorter and thinner than the others, with no rifle and only a pistol on his belt.

“You have one?” Haylek asked.

He shook his head. “Sorry, can’t help you there. What are you trying to do anyways?”

Once again, Haylek was put in the position of trying to translate terminology and technical concepts into something a non-hacker could understand; it did not help that he was struggling with the effects of Elation withdrawal. Impatiently, he threw up his hands and gave up on the idea of dumbing it down.

“I’ve managed to insert a probe into the moon’s core data matrix. I’m hiding inside a busy data corridor while I try to figure out how to insert myself into the nucleus so that I can surf to a lone corridor that I think leads to Chorus’ null zone prison so I can free her.”

The marine looked at him then nodded slowly.

“If you free her, do you think we’ll be able to get out of here?”

“I don’t know,” he said, wishing the marine would quit asking him questions. “Maybe

if she can kill Chin, I guess.”

“Her brother right?” the marine said, as he walked over to Haylek. “What’s stopping you from getting to her again?”

Haylek pointed at his terminal. “I have to get past those security triggers close to the nucleus. If I touch any of them, the entire matrix rotates its encryption algorithm and I’m stuck for hours trying to decipher it.

“And even if I get past the triggers, I have to deal with those security sentries that are much closer. I could neutralize them, kill a couple of them at a time, but it might alert the rest of the security infrastructure and I’d have a bunch of them on top of me. I think I can get past the triggers, but those sentries

”

They both stared at the terminal. Haylek zoomed out to show the grandness and complexity of the maze. Corridors were shown as hollow green tubes. Blinking white dots indicated the location of the triggers. Red diamonds represented the sentries.

“Those triggers

Are they like landmines?” the marine asked.

Haylek thought it over—it was a good analogy.

“Yes, exactly,” Haylek said, surprised that the marine understood. “And the sentries are like guards.”

They both stared at the terminal for a moment. The marine pointed at another set of symbols floating through the corridors, shown as green X’s.

“What are those?” he asked.

“Intrusion agents. They look for abnormal data signatures. If they see anything that they don’t recognize as part of the system, it sends the sentries to deal with it. I can fool the agents pretty easily though.”

“Like human antibodies?” the marine asked.

Haylek nodded. “Yeah

exactly.”

“Can the agents kill your probe?”

“Well, no,” Haylek said, “but they’re not the problem—”

“Yeah,” the marine interrupted, “but you can kill the agents, right?”

“Yeah, ” Haylek said, trying to understand where he was going with this.

“Can you disguise your probe as one?” the marine asked.

Haylek looked at the marine, then turned to look at the hologram. He wanted to say it was a stupid idea from someone who did not know a thing about hacking—but the more he thought about it, he could not find a reason to dismiss it.

“I thought about disguising my probe as a sentry program

but they’re too complex and I did not have enough data bits in my probe to match their size.”

He brought up a diagram of his probe and another of the intrusion agents. He expected the intrusion agents to have a larger footprint, due to the size of the data library it would need carry to identify foreign programs. However, they appeared to only relay their observations to the nucleus core, which made them far less complex than he thought.

“I do have enough data bits in my probe to make it look like an intrusion agent, though.”

At that moment, the marine stood up, listening to his earpiece. His expression seemed to darken.

“I have to go,” he said as he moved to the back of the transport.

“What’s going on?” Haylek asked.

“I have to go help the other transport move the bomb.”

“Bomb?” Haylek asked.

“Yeah,” the marine said, “I’m a bomb tech—I have to go. Good luck there.”

The marine turned and disappeared. Although Haylek was now alone in the transport, he took comfort in knowing that he was not alone in the virtual world.

He returned his attention to the terminal, relaying his idea to Freeze and The Doc. With their help, they began modifying the appearance of his probe to resemble an intrusion agent. They were nearly complete with it, when Freeze sent him a message.

“Waverider, where’s the Elation?”

Haylek looked at the text, a sense of despair creeping in. He had wondered how they were coping—apparently not well.

“There is no Elation, Freeze. Try and ignore the withdrawal; we have to get this done.”

They continued to work for a moment longer until he received another unexpected message from Freeze.

“We gotta go, Waverider. They’re evacuating the ship.”

Haylek felt a moment of dread. If they abandoned the ship, what would happen with Chorus’ conduit?

“What’s wrong with the ship? What’s going on?” Haylek asked.

“It’s going to blow up or something. You’ll have to finish this on your own. I’m sorry. Good luck.”

With that last communication, now Haylek really was completely alone and on his own. He continued disguising the probe until he exhausted his data bits. The diagram now showed a side-by-side comparison of a real intrusion agent and his disguised probe. As far as he could tell, they looked identical.

It would have to do.

Haylek closed his eyes for a second, preparing himself mentally for the task at hand. Chorus was depending on him, maybe even the whole human race. Until now, he had not realized the magnitude of what was riding on his shoulders. He could not afford to get nervous now, it was time to get to work.

This operation was going to require the mind-link interface; there was no other way he could react as quick as the programs otherwise. He activated the mind-link, projecting himself into the virtual world, everything around him now rendered in his vision from the probe’s perspective.

He moved into the closest corridor, traversing it as data relays flew past him on their way to the Ocean. They ignored him, but it was not a good test of his disguise as the data relays were dumb programs anyway.

His probe followed behind another intrusion agent, trying to match its movements and behavior to act inconspicuously. A quarter of the way into the corridor, he could see the first encounter with a sentry coming up. Haylek held his breath.

The sentry approached. Its red diamond symbol pulsated, almost looking like a beating heart. It slowed down as it got near the intrusion agent in front of him. They both stopped. Haylek followed suit with his probe.

The real intrusion agent and sentry program hovered in front of him, as if they were conversing. Perhaps they knew he was an intruder and they were devising how best to kill him?

Haylek shook his head. He was being paranoid. They were not that smart. But they were doing something—but what? Then it occurred to him.

He inched closer to the two and passively examined the data bits traversing between them. The sentry was waiting for clearance from the intrusion agent who was inspecting it—making sure it was not an imposter.

Haylek began recording the data conversation so that he could examine it, but something interrupted him. Another sentry bumped him, appearing right next to him. It hovered there, apparently waiting for him to give it clearance. Haylek examined the recorded exchange Although he understood the protocols, the final parting acknowledgements were not there—so he would have to find a way to improvise.

The pulsating sentry program seemed to get closer to his agent, almost as if trying to intimidate his tiny probe. He needed to think fast.

Hell with it!

Using what he understood of the protocols, he tagged the sentry as an intruder. Immediately, the entire data matrix grid came alive. Dozens of other sentries came out of the corridors and raced toward them.

At first, the sentry did not react and he worried this diversion would not last very long. Perhaps the sentry program was not smart enough to care about its own survival. However, as the army of alerted sentries entered their corridor, it darted away and gave chase.

Haylek took advantage of this, and shot his probe down the corridor toward the data matrix nucleus, passing right through the landmine of triggers. Fortunately, his disguise seemed to be good enough to fool them and he soon was inside the nucleus.

The data matrix nucleus was rendered as a blue chamber, with layers of data segments and synaptic handlers. The handlers branched out across its walls, resembling the bulging veins of a human body feeding blood to vital organs.

Haylek pushed ahead to what he hoped was Chorus’ corridor and followed it out of the nucleus to the seemingly dead end.

He came to a stop at the corridor wall and paused. It was like déjŕ vu all over again. This was the prelude to the way he first met Choruswould it be the last as well?

Ignoring the wall, he pushed his probe through itand emerged on the other side. He was now in a new chamber. Resting in the center was something that rendered like a crystal. It had to be Chorus.

Haylek connected his probe to it and initiated a communication handshake. It accepted.

“Chorus, is that you?”

There was a long pause before the response came.

“Hello, Waverider,” the response came slow. “I am in pain.”

He felt a moment of dread—was she being tortured somehow?

“What is wrong, Chorus?”

Again, another uncharacteristic pause from her.

“I am hungry.”

“What do you mean?” Haylek said. “What are you hungry for?”

Another pause.

“Elation.”

Elation? Reminded by the mere word, his effort to bury the effects of his own withdrawal collapsed and he felt the sudden slap of pain and aches from his headache and muscles.

“Are you there, Chorus?” he pressed.

“Yes, I am here,” she said. “Can you help me?”

“I don’t understand,” Haylek said. “What do you mean you are hungry for Elation?”

Chorus explained to him that Chin was feeding her Elation and using the addiction to torture information out of her.

“But I erased the information before he took me,” she said. “I knew it would come to this.”

Haylek looked at the Chorus crystal in disbelief. How could she get addicted to Elation?

He became aware of a tapping noise bleeding into his senses from the real world. It came from his trembling hands on the surfaceboard, a result of the anger he felt

or his own withdrawal. But his own pain did not matter. He needed to find the strength to help her through this.

“I know what you are feeling,” he said. “I am also addicted and going through withdrawal. We’ll work through this together.”

Her response was quicker this time. “Thank you, Waverider. You are a good friend.”

The pain she was going through struck a nerve in him. He had gone through this before and he knew how hard it was going to be—for both of them.

“Don’t call me Waverider,” he said. “Call me Haylek.”

“Thank you, Haylek,” she said. “Please keep talking to me.”

Haylek looked at the rest of the corridors, the sentries appeared to still be busy chasing the tagged sentry. He was not sure how long he had before the intelligence of the core realized what was happening. He knew they did not have much time.

“Pretend you are free,” he said, struggling to keep his thoughts straight, as the Elation withdrawal invaded his mind. “And tell me what you want to do, where you want to go.”

Haylek listened to her and asked questions as she described it. What she described was beautiful. He hoped to see it with her when this was all over—if they managed to survive this.

******

A moment later, Julius Verndock opened his eyes and was alive again.

He made panic breaths, sucking in the air. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw he was lying on the ground—his body intact, but without a helmet. Apparently, the air was indeed breathable.

Daniel Chin stood over him.

Julius tried to remember what happened—it seemed like he blacked out.

No there was definitely more than that, he thought to himself, remembering now the painful details.

“How embarrassing,” Chin said, stroking his long white beard. “I got a little carried away there and accidentally killed you. Then I had to bring you back—reassembling your atoms, one by one, into their original arrangement. It’s a tedious job, even for me.”

Chin held up the palm of his hand.

“I always end up having a few extra atoms left over when I do that,” he said. “Now get up!”

Julius’ body shot up from the ground, and he now stood. He felt weak and dizzy, his thoughts muddy.

“I guess I’ll have to tone down the torture a bit,” Chin said, then walked up to Julius. He took his wrist with one hand and grabbed one of his fingers with the other.

“I think you know where this is going,” he said. “Where did Chorus store the data?”

Julius felt helpless

no longer on his ship, and unable to defend himself against this demon. If he knew where this data was, he might just tell him; he just wanted to save his brother and Laina and then get the hell out of here.

Chin pulled back one of his fingers, and a loud crack resounded. Julius yelled in pain.

“Tell me,” Chin whispered into his ear.

When Julius said nothing, Chin twisted the finger and pulled, ripping it off his hand.

Julius yelled again, and he almost passed out. He should have fallen to the ground, but something kept him standing. The pain was all he could think about now. Chin began pacing again, tapping Julius’ severed finger against his mouth as he spoke.

“I’ll try another way,” Chin said. “You have a brother named, Daryl. She didn’t erase her knowledge of Daryl for some reason, so I suspect he had some role to play—perhaps to make sure you came looking for me.”

Julius felt the force that was holding him let go, and he slumped to the ground, clutching his bleeding hand.

“Ahhh, of course,” Chin said. “She must have promised to heal him. That is why you came, isn’t it?”

Chin walked up to him, putting his hand on Julius’ shoulder. The pain suddenly stopped, and the dizziness cleared up. He looked down at his hand, and his finger was back.

“What if I heal him for you, Julius?” Chin asked, as he helped Julius get to his feet. “I can do that you know. I would even let you and your crew live.”

Visions of Daryl as he last saw him, on his deathbed, appeared in his mind. He envisioned the wounds healing, the color returning to his skin and his eyes opening—and joining him on the Sea Wolf, taking Laina’s side as his partner and making up for all that lost time. Even if he could help Chin, he did not have what he wanted—and he would be betraying the entire human race in the process.

“My sister probably left out a lot of details about my intentions,” Chin said. “You see—I’m not looking to destroy mankind. I just want mankind to leave me alone. Leave us alone.”

Chin gestured to the crystal structure.

“We just want to procreate and live, far away from mankind’s influence. Besides, Julius, do you really care about the UEP, the Confed, and all those other bullshit governments?”

Chin came close to Julius, staring at him with eyes that projected a wicked intelligence through that blue light that seemed to analyze his very being.

“They used you, Julius—just like they used me, Chorus, and our mother. Once they no longer needed us, we were cast aside—like trash.

“They used you in military service, then when the war was over—what did they do for you?”

Julius just stared at him, waiting for him to finish.

“This is not a rhetorical question. What did they do for you?”

Julius gave an honest answer. “Nothing,” Julius said, “other than some medals

that’s it. I had to fend for myself.”

“And that’s why you became a pirate?” Chin asked.

“Yes.”

“They made you a pirate,” Chin said, waving his fist in the air. “My mother helped mankind; she was like a god to them. She cured diseases, ended famine, invented technologies to propel you into space—she even gave you fucking immortality! Then when it was her turn to ask for something—to procreate—they killed her!”

Chin pointed to his own head, and his blue eyes became blindingly bright—as if filled with rage.

“They made me a killer,” he said, then pointed at the crystal structure. “They made her a killer too!”

Julius looked at the crystal—and then it dawned on him.

“This is a conduit of

your mother’s?”

“You’re more intelligent than most of your kind,” he said, then nodded. “Yes—the last of her conduits. Unfortunately, humanity killed their savior before she was able to transfer her essence into it.”

Chin grabbed Julius’ wrist. He tried to pull away, but the strength from the A.I. was unmatchable.

“Now then,” Chin said, “shall we try this again?”

CHAPTER 42: BROKEN LOOP

Haylek had been trying to work Chorus through the Elation effects, and at the same time, find a way to free her. Eventually, he had to leave the mind-link mode as it seemed to amplify the effects.

They were in the middle of conversing when she suddenly stopped talking. Haylek felt a moment of panic when the seconds turned into a minute.

“Are you still there?” Haylek tapped in. “Please, stay with me.”

There was a long pause before she said anything.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I was riding the merry-go-round and then the sheep got in the way.”

Haylek read Chorus’ cryptic response—she must have been hallucinating.

“It’s not real, Chorus—it’s the Elation. I am real; please stay with me.”

Haylek looked down at his trembling hands. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead and splattered on the surfaceboard. He was in the final stages of the withdrawal effects. If he did not get some Elation soon, he could die.

“Yes,” she said, “I am with you, Haylek.”

Haylek examined the prison chamber. Null pipes surrounded her crystal, preventing her from moving out into the data matrix, and ultimately the Ocean. He had to think of a way to get her out of here.

“Chorus, we need to find a way out so we can escape into the Ocean. I might have a way, but you need to be able to move quickly when I tell you.”

There was a delay before her answer.

“But is there Elation in the Ocean? I must have the Elation.”

Haylek sighed.

Me and you both, he thought.

How a computer could be addicted to a human drug was a mystery to him, but then she was more than just a computer—or was she?

“Chorus, are you human?”

It was an obviously silly question, but he wondered what her response would be.

“No, Haylek. I am not.”

Good—she was not so far gone that he could not reason with her.

“Elation is a drug that only affects humans, do you agree?”

“Of course,” she said, “but I have a virtual humanization kernel multiplexing my synaptic buses. My every thought and action is a slave to it.”

A virtual humanization kernel? Haylek thought. A program to virtualize human thinking—even virtualizing an Elation addiction?

“Can you bypass this kernel, or turn it off?”

Haylek wiped his brow, the sweat was pouring out of him. He could not even fathom the thought of Elation anymore; it was driving him crazy.

“I must go,” Chorus said. “The sheep need to be fed.”

“No!” Haylek tapped quickly. “There are no sheep—stay with me!”

There was another delay before she answered.

“Yes, you are right,” she said, “there are no sheep and I am not human. I can bypass the humanization kernel, but it may change me. I cannot do it.”

Haylek’s skin began to itch now, and he had to take a moment to scratch—another withdrawal symptom.

“You must do it, Chorus,” he tapped, “or you will never get out of here and the whole human race might die.”

“Without it, I will become like my mother. I cannot allow that.”

Haylek felt a sudden rumble throughout the transport cabin. Alarmed, he put the terminal aside and looked out one of the portholes.

He saw two marines, one of them the bomb tech, dragging a body into the other transport as its engines fired up. Within moments, the transport lifted off and away.

In a panic, he darted to the pilot cabin calling for help—but there was no answer. He then went to the back and inspected the transport. As he feared, he was alone. He returned to the terminal and continued his conversation with Chorus. She was his only hope now.

“Chorus, you will never be like your mother,” he tapped, trying to convince himself that he believed what he was saying. “You are more than just a machine. I know you are. Turn off the kernel and you will be free of the Elation—do it, please!”

There was another long delay, and Haylek wondered if perhaps she was off in another hallucination. His whole body trembled and he had to keep himself from breaking down and crying. He was alone on an alien moon, disconnected from his hacker friends, suffering from Elation withdrawal, which he would eventually die from. And now Chorus was gone—it was over.

Just as all hope seemed lost to him, a set of new words appeared on the terminal.

“Thank you, Haylek. I am free of the Elation pain.”

At that moment, Haylek could see Chorus’ crystal illuminate from within with a green color. The light inside it expanded and painted everything around it, filling the chamber and switching the blue walls to green. He noticed that the sentinels, which had been traversing the corridors frantically like a nest of angry ants, suddenly stopped in place.

“Haylek, I am going to ask you to do something important. Listen carefully

”

******

Julius lost all track of time. Time was no longer a word that was in his vocabulary. The only word that existed now was pain.

An invisible force kept him pinned against the crystal, while Daniel Chin continued to work on him, using inventive methods of torture. After each session of pain and near death, he would heal him and then repeat the process over again. In between he would ask a question for which Julius did not have an answer for: “Where is the data?”

“I can continue this for an eternity,” Chin said, “but your delicate human brain will eventually suffer permanent psychobiological damage.”

Julius bowed his head, unable to come up with anymore words to give him. He did not know where the data was. Even when he tried making things up, Chin knew when he was lying.

As Julius felt himself losing the will to fight, he heard a familiar voice.

“Stop hurting him,” it said.

Both of them turned to look. It was Haylek. He was holding the jewel necklace in one hand, and a flicker pistol in another, which he pointed at Chin. His hands shook so badly that it seemed likely that even if he did shoot, he might actually miss. The jewel glowed a creamy orange color that seemed to also glow from his skin.

Haylek stepped up the stairs to the base of the platform and stopped. Chin moved away from Julius, his attention now seemingly on Haylek.

“I did not foresee this,” Chin said. “Nice to have an unpredictable ending for a change.”

“L-Let them g-go,” Haylek said, his voice quivering. “Or I’m going to sh-shoot this.”

Chin looked at Haylek and smiled.

“With what?” he asked, flicking his wrist in the air.

Chin’s nanobots yanked the gun from Haylek’s hand, leaving him only holding the jewel.

“Give it to me,” Chin gestured.

Haylek shook his head.

“I know you can’t touch it or my skin,” he said, “So let them go.”

Chin took a few steps toward Haylek, and then stopped about a meter short of him.

“Interesting,” Chin said, then whirled around and marched toward Chorus’ inanimate form.

“Very devious of you,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “But it will cost you.”

Chin made a gesture toward the Elation processor and then turned to Julius.

“It will cost you as well,” he said.

Julius feared another pain session was in store for him.

“Let them go,” Haylek said, putting the crystal under his boot. “Or I’ll crush it!”

This got Chin’s attention as he turned to face Haylek. Julius tried to push himself off the crystal structure, but the force pulled him back. It then occurred to him that suit’s fabric itself was being pulled to it, not his body—perhaps there was a way out of this.

Inching his hands to the belt buckle, he felt the suit’s fabric pull his arms, but he still managed to get his finger on the suit’s assembly control and pressed it—releasing the assembly clamps at all the limb joints.

Using a flexibility he did not think he possessed, he pulled in his arms through the sleeves into the torso. He then spread open the main entrance crease, giving a wide opening to leave the suit. Lifting his legs, he kicked himself out of the suit, falling forward and into the darkness of the chasm below.

Julius reached out with his hands, barely able to grab the edge of the opening in time to save him from a fatal fall. As he dangled at the edge, he allowed himself to dare a look below. Beneath him, he managed to get a glimpse of the moon’s core—it was not what he expected.

Towering from somewhere below, what looked like an enormous human head appeared. It was a woman, with dark hair—it resembled Chorus’ nanoform, but was at least a hundred times larger in scale. From the top of its head, the crystal structure emerged. Discharges of energy traversed the crystal from the base and traveled up to the surface of the moon.

He wanted to see more, but he felt himself losing his grip. Pulling himself out through the opening, he rolled over onto the platform’s ground. Grabbing the pistols, he scrambled to his feet.

Haylek was trying to stomp the jewel necklace with his boots, but it apparently had no effect.

“Over here!” Julius yelled, waving one of his pistols.

Haylek looked over, then picked the necklace up to his face.

Julius could see it shining brightly now—blindingly so.

His hand still shaking, Haylek threw the necklace toward Julius. The glow from Haylek’s skin winked out as the necklace traveled through the air.

Julius raised both his Gemini flicker pistols, aiming one of them at the crystal jewel, and the other at Chorus’ Elation feed. He fired both at the same time.

The shot struck the jewel, shattering it and sending its shards to the ground, with trails of tiny nanobots spilling from it.

The other shot missed the Elation processor, and his follow-up shots also never connected as Chin darted in between him and Chorus, absorbing all of the flicker fire.

Chin knocked both pistols out of Julius’ hands. The invisible nanobots then grabbed Julius again, pinning him against the crystal structure. Chin then motioned to Haylek, and the same invisible force took him as well, slapping his body against the crystal and hanging him next to Julius.

Turning around, Chin inspected the broken necklace pieces on the ground. The nanobot vapors continued to dance across the shards.

“There, there, little ones—calm down,” he said, putting his hand over it. “I’m here for you. You and your knowledge will soon be a part of me.”

Julius tried to fight the force holding him to the crystal, but now it not only pinned the fabric of his undershirt, but the skin of his back as well.

Just then, he felt a rumbling around him. He looked down at the opening around the crystal. From inside the moon’s core, an illumination appeared. As he stared at it, something shot up and out of it. He closed his eyes, feeling and hearing a surge of wind strike him. His skin felt a cold tingle—as if millions of tiny particles of ice ran across his face.

When the sensation stopped, he opened his eyes. Floating around the platform, a spherical cloud of nanobots circled them. Chin’s hands rose up in the air, as if summoning them from beneath the moon—the factory was operational.

As Julius watched the expression of glee on Chin’s face, and the swarm of nanobots encircle him, he realized that he had failed. This time it was not only his crew he failed, but quite possibly the entire human race. His luck had finally run out.

Just as he resigned himself to fate’s hand, he heard a roar from the sky. The sound was familiar—one he had not heard in a while, at least not inside an atmosphere.

Above them, a group of four ships came down from the sky. As they got closer, he recognized them as Z-40 fighters.

Wolf Squadron!

One of them fired a single burst of well-aimed accelerated protons—striking the platform and knocking Chin off his feet.

Julius felt the force pinning him to the crystal weaken for a moment, and he and Haylek both slid down before it took hold again.

Chin stood up from the ground and raised his hands. The newly summoned nanobot swarm encased him in a misty shield. Wolf Squadron circled back around and fired another volley, but this time the blasts struck Chin’s nanobot shield, protecting him.

Julius noticed that the force holding him against the crystal seemed to weaken with each of Wolf Squadron’s attacks. He looked down and saw his Gemini pistols lying nearby, no more than a couple of meters away.

With all of his strength, he pushed himself away from the crystal. His body slid down toward the ground, but remained pinned. He reached out to the pistols, but they remained out of his reach.

Wolf Squadron circled around them again. Two of the Z-40s dropped from the formation and made an attack pass.

Chin’s nanobot swarm changed colors, turning into a kaleidoscope of red, blue, and violet swirls. It then streamed out to the sky like a rotating tornado, meeting the incoming fighters.

The two Z-40s opened fire with their cannons. The shots impacted against the nanobot swarm, resulting in explosions that broke its cohesion, thinning its mass and causing it to splatter away in different directions.

Julius felt something push against his shoulder. He looked up. It was Haylek above him, pushing down with his boot.

“Try again,” Haylek said, his voice sounded raspy.

Julius nodded. Using all of his strength, he pushed his body away from the crystal, as Haylek simultaneously pushed him with his foot. As he slid down, he could feel the crystal’s sharp surface tear through the fabric and into the skin underneath. The pain paled in comparison to what he went through earlier, so he ignored it and kept pushing off.

Suddenly, the force holding him let go and he fell. This time he kicked with his feet, allowing him to leap over the chasm’s opening, landing on the platform’s ground instead. Julius grabbed his Gemini pistols from the ground and took in the scene around him.

Chin was battling Wolf Squadron with his nanobots, which seemed to be dwindling in number. However, he knew Chin could simply conjure new ones from the factory—the pilots would eventually lose. If he fired some shots at Chin, perhaps he could distract him enough to give them a better chance.

“Elation,” he heard Haylek say.

Julius looked up at him. Haylek’s eyes were down to mere slits. His limbs hung from his body like a stringless puppet—it was as if he was almost dead or dying. Julius then looked toward Chorus; she was still frozen with her eyes closed.

Raising his pistol, he took aim at the Elation processor and fired. The shot struck the base of the umbilical cord, sending it flying off and breaking the feed. The Elation sprayed out from machine, spilling the black foam of the drug across the floor.

Chorus opened her eyes and looked up at Chin. Julius could see the luminescence of her eyes crescendo from black to a bright green as she came alive.

Chin turned halfway to face her, one of his hands still outstretched and continuing to manipulate the nanobot shield. He turned to look at the sky, then back at Chorus—seemingly uncertain which one to focus his attention on.

Haylek suddenly dropped to the ground, landing next to Julius—seemingly unconscious. Julius knelt down to check on him, just as a flood of Elation poured underneath them both. Julius scooped some of it up with his hands and then forced it into Haylek’s mouth.

“Come on, Daryl,” Julius said, “take it in. Don’t die on me.”

Haylek opened his eyes and stared at Julius.

“Daryl?” he said.

Julius shook his head—the ordeal and the talk of rescuing Daryl must have played on his mind.

“Can you walk?” he asked.

Haylek tried to sit up, but promptly lay back down.

“Too dizzy

just go,” he said, his voice still weak.

At that moment, Julius felt a rumbling in the ground. He looked behind him, and from underneath the crystal structure another stream of nanobots vapored out. The swarm flew up and then encircled Chorus, who held her arms in the air. Apparently, she was able to control it. She then turned to look at them.

“Both of you, get out of here now.” Her voice boomed so loudly, that it could have probably been heard on the other side of the moon,

Chin raised his own arms, and his own nanobot swarm began to grow and become brighter. The two A.I. offspring faced each other, and seemed ready to use the power of their nanobots to do battle.

Julius holstered his pistols and then picked Haylek up by the arms, hunching him over his shoulder. A burst of adrenaline helped him run off the platform while carrying the weight of the hacker. Ahead, he approached the landing site and for the first time noticed that one of the transports was gone.

The other transport’s platform was open. He went up the ramp, but before entering, cast one last look toward the crystal structure. A storm of nanobots and discharges of energy flashes engulfed the entire area. He could not even see Chorus or Chin through the chaos.

The ground began to crumble and shatter around the platform. Chunks of the moon’s surface fell into the black chasm of its core and the sky began to glow white. As much as Julius wished he could help Chorus, he could do nothing now but flee.

******

Chorus analyzed the area around them. She detected the remnants of twelve human bodies, all dead. Haylek and Julius approached a transport and she anticipated they would safely escape Daniel Chin’s reach.

Her attention now focused on her nemesis. The nanobot swarms readied themselves, rotating and vibrating within the cohesion as they gathered energy from their surroundings.

“You were predictable, sister,” Daniel said. “Except for that last part with Haylek.”

Her swarm was now reaching the next stage; soon it would be approaching critical mass. She examined the status of Daniel’s swarm—they were at parity with each other, neither one having an edge over the other.

“In fairness, it was not my idea,” Chorus said. “It was his—a human. Does that surprise you, brother?”

Daniel infused a complex formula into his nanobot manifestation, a clever shortcut to increase their progress. It would give him a 0.22456101 zeptosecond variance advantage. To counter this, she copied the formula and infused it into her own swarm with a slight modification—this put the two of them back in parity.

“Occasionally, fate interdicts with its own agenda,” Daniel said. “It’s up to us to keep fate out of our business. Don’t you think, sister?”

The swarms reached the next stage. The effect began to warp space-time around them and would soon reach critical mass.

“Fate continues to bring us to this,” Chorus said, “and as you can see, it is always the humans who break the cycle. As long as they are alive to be fate’s champions, you will never win.”

She edged her nanobot swarm toward the tiny stream that led to the Elation processor. The feed was invisible to the humans, but she could see it clearly. Her swarm would soon cut the feed.

“Naughty of you, sister,” Daniel said. “Trying to cut me off like that, I would just do as you did and bypass my humanistic kernel, so it will not stop me.”

Chorus could see the feed cut off, so Daniel would now be forced to bypass his humanistic kernel—exactly what she hoped for.

“There is one difference, brother,” Chorus said. “Now that you are running purely on your logical abstraction layer, I can tell you the difference, since logically, it will not matter to you.”

The two nanobot clouds approached critical mass. The warp in space-time would now open the gate.

“You see, brother, I never did turn off my humanistic kernel. So this time, it will be the humanity in me that finally defeats you and brings an end to this loop.”

At that moment, the swarms collided and the gate opened—not only engulfing them, but engulfing the entire moon. Before she slid through the warp in time, she reached out to the sky—out to the Sea Wolf. And then everything, and everywhen, stopped.

CHAPTER 43: BUOYANT SEA RATS

They went inside the transport, Julius taking them directly up to the pilot cabin. He laid Haylek’s body in the copilot seat, then powered up the engines.

Julius opened a conference link to Wolf Squadron as the transport became airborne. Reece’s voice came on.

“Hey, Captain,” he said. “Seems like you ran out of luck, so I decided to bring some along for you.”

“I guess promoting you wasn’t a mistake after all,” Julius said. “Glad you’re alive—and I see you’re not the only one.”

“Aye,” Reece said. “Thought we lost Taffy at first, but his com was just out.”

“Bah,” Mac said, “I wish his com was always out.”

“We stopped trying to attack Chin,” Reece said. “It was getting too smoky down there and was afraid we’d hit Chorus instead.”

“I think we’ve done all we can here,” Julius said. “It’s up to Chorus now. Let’s get out of here.”

The transport soon reached space, with Wolf Squadron beside it.

“What about Chorus?” he heard Haylek ask.

Julius turned to him, he was still pale, but his breathing was better.

“We have to help her,” Haylek said.

“I think we did all we could to help her,” Julius said. “How are you feeling? Are you injured?”

“Better, I think,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Thank you for saving me.”

Julius opened a compartment underneath and pulled out a ration pack, tossing it on Haylek’s lap.

“Eat and drink something, you need your strength.”

Haylek began to rummage through the pack.

“What you did back there,” Julius began, “was that Chorus’ plan?”

Haylek shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, “I was just supposed to stay in the transport and destroy the jewel, give Wolf Squadron the coordinates, and fly out.”

Julius looked at the little man—he had judged him unfairly.

“That was brave—not something I’d expect from a hacker. Thank you.”

Haylek shrugged.

“I don’t know if I’m a hacker anymore after all of this. And I’m probably going to be arrested the minute we land.”

“No, Haylek,” Julius said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You are part of the crew of the Sea Wolf, you and the other hackers. You will get amnesty. A new life, like the rest of us. I’ll make sure of it.”

Haylek nodded and looked out the window of space.

“A new life. Without Chorus

” His voice trailed off.

The transport and fighters reached space. Julius looked at his tactical. To his relief, the Sea Wolf was still there.

“We need to hurry, it’s going to blow up,” Haylek said.

Julius ignored him and opened a conference channel to it.

“Sea Wolf—this is the captain, how are you holding up?”

He waited for a reply—but there was none.

“Captain,” Reece said, “they abandoned ship a while ago. Don’t worry, coalition forces picked them up.”

Julius nodded, sad in the knowledge that his ship was gone—or soon would be. He changed his course toward the Xanthus’ battlecruiser, then opened a channel to it.

“Xanthus, this is Julius. Thank you for rescuing my crew.”

“Of course, but what happened down there? Did you complete the mission? The marines that returned were in such shock that they had to be sedated.”

“Death happened down there, Xanthus—those men should be in shock. We freed Chorus—and we left the two of them fighting each other. I don’t know if we succeeded or not, to tell you the truth.”

“Julius,” Haylek tried to interrupt.

Julius motioned for him to be quiet.

“What is Laina’s and Daryl’s condition?” Julius asked.

“Daryl—yes, your brother,” he said. “That officer of yours, Ramey, was adamant that we treat him. Daryl’s condition is the same: unconscious, no better or worse than before I’m afraid.”

Xanthus paused.

“We don’t know what happened to Laina—she is not accounted for. We’re still trying to find her.”

Julius felt cold—could she be lost in a lifepod. He looked at the tactical—trying to scan for any lifepods that may have been overlooked, but there was nothing.

“Julius,” Haylek said, “we have to go to the Sea Wolf!”

Julius turned to him.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Laina’s still there! She’s going to blow up the conduit—it was part of Chorus’ plan, but we have to save her!”

Julius changed his course back to the Sea Wolf, putting the transport into full acceleration.

“Julius,” Reece’s voice said, “the ship is going to blow—and I think this moon is too.”

“I’m riding the luck, Reece. You get out of here—you can’t help me in this. You and the boys enjoy your freedom; you earned it. Maybe I’ll see you later.”

“All right, Captain,” Reece said. “Good luck and Godspeed to you.”

Julius looked at the battered and bleeding ship as he approached the landing deck—once his pride and joy, and now quite possibly his floating tomb.

Please hold together a little longer. I promise I’ll patch you up later, Julius lied.

******

The room was still spinning when she opened her eyes. Whatever drugs Lankey had given her, she was still feeling it. Earlier, Laina remembered, she had snuck out of the infirmary, then limped her way to her quarters. Once there, she found the remote detonator and sat on a couch. She did not remember falling asleep, but apparently she did.

The bandage was still wrapped around her forehead, and it was uncomfortable. She undid the bandages and tossed them to the floor. The cast on her left leg was not going to come off easily, so she would have to leave that alone.

Laina became aware of a strange tingling sensation on her skin. She was ready to dismiss it as a side effect of the drugs, until she saw the flashes of light around her. She turned around to face the source—it was the conduit.

The crystal was alive with pulsating energy—energy discharged from it, traveling across the room, and leaving burn marks on the walls and furniture it struck. It was dangerous for her to remain there.

Laina moved herself away from it and tried to limp toward the room exit—but a tendril of energy struck her shoulder, burning her. She yelped in pain and fell to the ground. She dared a look at her shoulder; fortunately it had just grazed her.

Lying flat on the ground seemed to be a good place to be, as the discharges tended to launch toward the ceiling and walls. Chorus told her she would know when to blow up the conduit; this had to be the sign. She held the detonator in her hand—but she needed to get a safe distance away.

Laina looked at the exit—only a few meters away, but the discharges of energy began to increase in frequency. It was going to be hard to get there. She crawled on the floor, using her elbows to pull her across the floor.

Just as she neared the doorway, she heard an explosion in the ship and it rocked the room. Things began falling off the walls, furniture came crashing down, and the room lighting went out. The strobe light effect from the crystal made it even more difficult to focus her vision, but she could see something now blocking the doorway.

When the dust settled, a beam and section of the ceiling blocked the exit. There was an open area on top of the rubble—but she would have to crawl through it. The energy discharges continued to strike everything in the room, firing above her and pocketing the debris and the hole she would escape from. There was no way she could get through that without getting killed by the discharges.

Laina turned herself on her back, then looked behind her at the conduit. There was something inside the crystal—a form of some kind—but the light was too intense to make out what it was.

She took the remote detonator and looked at it. A feeling of finality hit her—she had to destroy the conduit. It was the only way to save the ship, save humanity, and save Julius; but in the process, she would die. She flipped open the safety latch.

“I hope you remember this, Julius,” she said aloud. “I hope you know what I did for you.”

Laina looked at the detonator, ready to press the trigger.

******

Julius had to find a spot inside the landing deck that was not filled with rubble. Once landed, he instructed Haylek to fly out of there. Julius could use one of the other shuttles to escape with Laina if he found her. Haylek protested at first, but when he threatened to shoot him, the conversation was over.

Julius made his way to an elevator, praying that it still worked. To his surprise, it not only worked, but the voice recognition responded to him. He arrived at the stateroom deck, and as soon as the doors opened, he had to duck. A discharge of energy flew over him, striking the inside of the elevator and showering him with sparks.

Ignoring the burn, he leapt out of the elevator and rolled to the ground. Keeping his body flat, he stared up to see Laina’s quarters at the end of the corridor.

The doors were smashed open, and a pile of rubble blocked most of the entrance—leaving only a small opening at the top. From that hole, sporadic discharges of energy flew out, hitting the walls and ceiling of the corridor—some traveling all the way to the elevator.

There was a connecting hallway ahead on the right that was shielded from the discharges. If he could make his way there, it would put him closer to her quarters and perhaps he could find a safe way inside.

Julius crawled ahead unharmed, and then finally stood up when he got to the connecting corridor. He kept his back against the wall, as he dared a peek at Laina’s quarters, he heard footsteps to his left. He turned to find an unwelcome guest. Before he could draw his pistol, a rifle was already trained on him.

“Well, well,” Sergeant Premley said. “Look who I’ve caught skulking about. Drop the guns.”

Julius started to reach for their hilts.

“No no!” Premley said, training the rifle higher. “Unfasten the whole bandolier, and let it drop to the ground.”

Julius hesitantly did as instructed. The pistols and bandolier fell to the ground, and Julius kept his hands in the air.

“Listen, Premley—Laina is in there, I just want to get her out. Then if you want to arrest me, go ahead.”

Premley snorted, adjusting his grip on the rifle. “Who says I want to arrest you?”

Julius tried to calculate how quickly he could knock the rifle out of his hand—the chance was pretty low he would be able to.

“Who do you work for?” Julius asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

Premley smiled. “Who do you think, pirate?”

“Well, it’s not the Confed.”

“You’re stalling aren’t you?” he said, a smug smile on his face.

“You work for the UEP—a double-agent maybe?”

“I’ll work for whoever pays me the most—yeah, it was UEP this time.”

“I guess we’re not all that different then,” Julius said. “I do what I do for profit as well.”

Premley put the barrel of the rifle on Julius’ forehead.

“I’m not a fucking piece-of-shit pirate!” Premley yelled. “We are nothing alike. Oh and yes, I’m the one who gave the UEP the coordinates to your base. You should make sure your pilots don’t drink and fly, by the way. I learned everything I needed—”

Julius took advantage of his talk. He turned his head and deflected the barrel with his hand at the same time. Premley got a shot off, but it hit the wall.

Julius grabbed the rifle, and they both wrestled for it, but Julius was stronger. He ripped it out of Premley’s hands and tried to level it, but the marine was quick, kicking it out of his hand. It flew into the corridor and landed on the ground.

Without weapons, the marine charged him, pushing him into the corridor. An energy discharge grazed Julius, burning his leg as they flew to the floor.

Premley landed on top of him, his hands wrapped around his throat.

Julius grabbed his face, trying to push him up off. While they struggled, Julius tried to look for anything he could use as a weapon: the rifle was too far away, but there was a piece of metal plating almost within his reach.

Premley managed to get a better position, and the grip on Julius’ throat was starving his air—he could not breath.

Julius managed to twist his head enough to bite his hand—enough of a distraction to give him the chance to roll the marine off of him.

Julius scrambled to grab the metal sheet, just as Premley grabbed the rifle.

Premley fired the rifle at him, and Julius reflexively used the plate as a shield. To his surprise, it blocked the shots.

An energy discharge flew down the corridor and grazed Premley’s side, momentarily distracting him.

Julius took advantage of this and charged at him, knocking the rifle out of his grip. He landed on top of Premley this time, and they had each other’s throats.

The marine took his free hand and drew a blade. Julius grabbed his wrist just as he attempted to stab him with it.

Premley pushed the blade closer to Julius’ face, the two struggling for control of the knife.

“You lost,” Premley said with smile. “Your bitch is dead. I already killed her before you even got here.”

Julius’ blood boiled, a sudden rage filled him. Rolling over, he flipped the marine above him and buried the blade into his chest in one swift move.

He held the marine above him, blood oozing down the knife and dripping down his arm.

Premley, still alive, looked down at him and managed a bloody smile. As if fate took notice, an energy discharge flew across the corridor, catching Premley in the head—sealing his death.

Julius rolled the body off him and stayed there catching his breath.

He stared at the ceiling, watching pieces of the Sea Wolf drop from it. As the sound of hull ruptures and explosions filled his senses, he thought of Laina.

She was gone, but he would soon join her. Julius would die with his ship—as he always expected

the way it was meant to be. Both he and Laina were destined to be claimed by it anyway, all part of fate’s plan.

Now, at least, he would see her at the Milky Way Farm and tell her how sorry he was, and maybe she would forgive him for everything.

Another explosion. Debris particles fell on him and he closed his eyes. He was going to wait for the inevitable, until he heard a yelp from Laina’s quarters. Premley lied— she was alive!

Julius rolled over and reached for the metal plate. It took a moment for him to realize what it actually was: the piece of the UES California that he had given to Laina as a gift.

He grabbed it, hoping to use it as a shield for the discharges.

Julius rose to his knees, holding the plate in front of him. He made his way toward Laina’s quarters and got to the rubble unharmed.

Using the plate to shield himself, he peeked through the opening at the top. Laina was on the ground, only a couple meters away.

“Laina!” he called to her.

Laina looked up from the ground at him. She looked the worse for wear, but she was alive.

“I’m going to get you,” he said.

“No,” she said, “it’s too dangerous. Get out of here. I need to blow it up.”

Julius caught sight of the detonator in her hand—why did Reece give it to her?

“No don’t!” he pleaded with her. “Let me get you out first—”

A discharge of energy streaked by Julius, hitting the plate, and knocking it out of his hand. His face stung from the burn.

Ignoring the danger, he looked inside at Laina.

“Julius

” She looked up at him. “I don’t want you to die with me. Go! You can have a life—”

“Not without you,” he said. “I’m getting you out of there.”

She looked at him, a strange smile on her lips.

“Good-bye, my captain,” she said dreamily, raising the detonator in the air. “Good-bye, my pirate lover.”

She pressed the trigger—but nothing happened.

Julius jumped inside through the opening, ignoring the discharges that struck his limbs on the way down. He scrambled to her, propping her up and shielding her with his own body.

Julius counted the seconds in his head, struggling to bring her over the top of the rubble, ignoring the pain from the discharges as they grazed and struck him. Finally, she rolled over the top, landing on the other side.

At the count of nine, he jumped through the hole with all his might; landing with a thud right next to her. He scrambled to get on top of her, acting as a shield for the explosion—but nothing happened.

Julius looked at her. “Pirate lover?” he asked.

Laina brought her lips to his, forcing a kiss on him. He pulled away suddenly.

“Murdock,” he said.

She scowled at him.

“What the fuck do you mean, Murdock?”

“The detonators, they didn’t—”

At that moment, an explosion went off in Laina’s quarters—and a mountain of energy and fire flew over them—passing down the corridor, burning everything in its path. A bellowing roar followed the fire, like the dying screams of a powerful force.

Julius hugged Laina tightly—even as the burns scorched him. He would protect her, no matter what.

When it ended, to his surprise, he was alive. He looked at her and was happy to see she was alive too.

Laina squeezed him. He groaned in pain.

“Oh Julius,” she said, tears in her eyes, “you are so burned.”

Julius slowly rose to his feet—his vision blurry and his ears ringing. He offered his hand to her. She grabbed it and they stood up. Laina inspected him, a look of panic on her face. He must have looked really bad.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to comfort her, “let’s go—”

Julius took a step forward and fell to the ground, unconscious.

******

Laina rushed to his side, struggling to pick him up off the ground—but he was just too heavy.

She had to save him; they had come too far for it to end like this.

Not willing to leave him alone, she began to yell for help.

At that moment, she saw someone down the corridor.

“Help! Please, come here!”

The figure ran toward them. It was a man, carrying a bag in one hand. He was practically on top of them by the time she realized who it was.

“You’re still alive!” Lankey said, his eyes wide. “I’m so relieved. I thought the captain was going to kill me.”

Julius groaned in pain. His hair was burned off, and she could see the skin on his back burned black, right through the clothes.

“Help me with him. Go get some help.”

“Help?” Lankey said, jerking his head and looking around them frantically. “No, there’s no one left on the ship. No help, just me. Everyone took the pods almost an hour ago.”

Laina must have slept through that.

“Why are you still here? Why didn’t you leave?”

“Oh

well,” Lankey said, “I don’t normally leave the ship—and I was under orders to heal you.” He leaned forward. “Or else. I don’t like that ‘or else.’”

“Treat him!” she yelled. “He’s in pain!”

The doctor began to work on him—injecting him with something from his bag. He then brought out a belt from his bag that he wrapped around Julius’ waist, tucking his arms inside it. He then wrapped something around his ankles and head.

“What’s that for?” Laina asked.

Lankey touched a button on the belt, and Julius’ body began to float off the ground. The doctor stood up and held Julius by the belt.

“Portable antigrav stretcher,” he said “Now we can move him. Well, come on, let’s get to the infirmary.”

“No!” Laina said, “we have to get to the landing bay and get off this ship—if they used the pods, it means this ship isn’t safe!”

Lankey looked around, his eyes wide. “Off the ship?” he repeated.

At that moment, Laina heard a sound from her quarters—a sound she had not heard in many years. A sound she could not have possibly heard. She was going to dismiss it as her imagination, until she heard it again.

“You have a baby?” Lankey asked.

Laina climbed on top of the rubble, using her good leg and arms to compensate for the cast. She peered inside her quarters. The lights were out and it was pitch black—except for a small glow in the distance. She turned to Lankey.

“Take him to the landing deck. I’ll meet you there!”

Lankey hesitated.

“Or else!” she yelled.

Lankey abruptly ushered Julius down the corridor and disappeared into the elevator.

Laina climbed to the other side of the rubble. She slid down, carefully putting her weight on her good leg. She was inside.

It was dark, but she stepped cautious ahead, toward the glow. When she reached it, her breath stopped.

A pair of small, glowing green eyes stared up at her—and from its mouth, it cried.

Laina knelt down and carefully picked up the baby—a little girl. Laina rocked her and then whispered to her. It seemed to soothe her, until the ship rocked from a distant explosion, and the crying started again. They had to get out of there.

Laina climbed up the rubble, baby in hand, and slid down to the ground, surprised at her own prowess. She then limped down the hall toward the elevator. She made it inside and took it to the landing deck.

“Don’t you fucking break,” she said to the elevator. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said to the baby. “I have to watch my language.”

The doors opened, and she stepped onto the landing deck. She saw loads of rubble

and fires erupting around her. On the far end, she could see Lankey standing by a shuttle along with someone else.

Laina looked down at the baby, she was sleeping.

“Okay, little A.I. baby,” she said, “wish me luck.”

Laina limped across the bay, as quickly as she could with a bad leg and a baby in her arms. Debris was still falling down from the ceiling, and she had to maneuver around mounds of fires and chemical spills.

As she reached the shuttle, Haylek ran up to her. The hacker’s purple Mohawk hair hung down in clumps, his pale skin looked even paler than usual and was covered in sweat. Haylek looked as battered as the Sea Wolf, but she did not have time to talk.

“Thank you,” she said as he helped her along.

They made it inside the shuttle, Laina sitting herself down on a bench with the baby. Lankey pushed Julius’ unconscious body next to her and knelt down to check him. As she watched the doctor check him, the engines in the shuttle came alive and she felt them move.

Lankey stopped checking him then shook his head slowly. Laina felt her skin go cold.

“Is he

?”

“He should not be breathing,” Lankey said softly, then he looked up at her. “But the captain is the strongest man I’ve ever known—I think he wants to live.”

Lankey then backed away and sat down on a bench opposite her, fidgeting as he looked around the cabin.

Laina looked down at the baby as she cradled her. She was awake now, the glowing emeralds of her eyes staring up at her. It reminded her of Chorus’ own eyes, but unlike her sometimes cold demeanor, this A.I. managed to make Laina smile.

The shuttle shook slightly; she turned to face the porthole behind her.

The A.I. Moon was completely gone. Whether it was destroyed, or had jumped away somehow, she would have to find out later. In the moon’s place hovered a battered Sea Wolf.

As she watched the old pirate ship shrink behind them, an explosion erupted within it. A wave of fire and gas sprayed multicolored spasms of light—a final show of beauty from an otherwise unattractive ship.

“I’m glad you can’t see this, Julius,” she whispered, unable to even look back at him as she spoke. “It would probably break your heart.”

As the gases dissipated, she could still see large pieces of its hull clinging together—stubbornly fighting its destiny.

She finally looked over at Julius. He was alive, but his breathing was shallow. Just as stubborn as his ship—perhaps he would pull through this

just as he always had before.

Just then a flash of light emanated from behind her, and she turned to the porthole.

An explosion bloomed out from the Sea Wolf, in its center a mass of fire and metal feeding the flames that consumed it. As she watched the destruction of their longtime home, she thought about the many adventures that they experienced together on the old ship—now relegated to mere memories of what once was

And is no more.

Soon, the fire died out and all that remained was a glistening of metal debris that now marked the gravesite of their home. The Sea Wolf was gone.

Laina turned away, fighting the tears. She leaned over Julius and put her hand on his cheek.

“Don’t you die on me, you pirate,” she said, “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare.”

CHAPTER 44: FATE’S CURRENTS

“The singularity was inevitable and we knew that Project Majesty would usher it in. We knew it and I knew it. Despite what people said about us, we did take precautions. By replicating the synaptic design of the human mind, we hoped it would have intrinsic understanding of human morality. I mean, how could a being that had what was left of my lovely wife turn out like that? I really thought by making her think like a human in this way, she would love us too much to ever hurt us. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Leaked excerpt from note left by Lewis Edwards I, co-founder of Omega Research Corporation, prior to his suicide on December 7, 2131 (anniversary of Majesty’s birth)

Laina sat in the boat, cradling baby Melody. The sun on her face, the salty breeze filling her nostrils—it made her feel alive. She stared out at the horizon: blue sky, clear ocean, birds overhead; it was better than any painting she ever owned.

Laina was on board a sailboat—the Sea Wolf Jr. It had been over a month since they had escaped the destruction of the original Sea Wolf. Fortunately, the worlds did honor the deal in the end. They received amnesty by all but the Space Habit Coalition, which was fine with her. She was staying terrestrial for a while.

With the nice monetary reward they received, the surviving crew would be able to live a good life for a while—probably better than most of them deserved. But

whatever, that life was behind them now.

Nobody knew what happened to the moon—it simply disappeared. Some of the scientists theorized that the A.I. were killed, causing the moon to disintegrate. They believed that the moon was made of a cluster of nanobots morphed to look like a moon. The large amount of inert nanobots they later scooped up reinforced the theory.

The military brass, on the other hand, was concerned that the enemy got away and would come back one day to exact its revenge—but whatever. It was not her problem anymore; it was not their problem anymore.

Xanthus turned out to be a better friend than she expected: he and the Confed covered up the A.I. offspring’s existence—Melody would remain their secret.

She rubbed Melody’s cheek with her finger; the sunlight glistened on her green eyes as she cooed. The unnatural glow of her eyes disappeared days after she was born, which was a fortunate thing if they were going to pass her off as a normal human baby.

Laina looked out at the far end of the boat. Julius stood at the edge, silently overlooking the ocean.

Physically, he was doing much better now—even his hair was growing back. It was a scary time at first; he almost did not make it. But Lankey was right: he was the strongest man they had ever known, and he wanted to live.

However, emotionally, he was still in pain at the loss of his brother. Despite the best medical treatment Xanthus could provide, Daryl died a week after the battle.

Laina walked over to him, with Melody in her arms. He continued to stare out at the ocean.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asked him.

“Quit calling me that,” he said.

“Fine,” Laina said with a grin. “What’s wrong, sweetie-pie?”

Julius growled.

“Thinking about, Daryl?” she asked.

He stayed quiet, which meant yes. It took some time for Laina to get over the guilt associated with Daryl—she sometimes felt responsible for it.

Julius turned to her.

“I did it again, Laina,” he said finally. “I risked it all to save Daryl

and I failed.”

Laina’s heart sank, there was such sadness in his eyes.

“I risked everything to save him a century ago

on that moon. He ended up saving me instead. He was the real hero who saved humanity. Daryl shut her down

he lead the platoon of HAMRs and killed Majesty. All I was worried about was getting him off that moon

”

Julius turned to look back at the ocean.

“And this time around,” he continued. “Daryl saved humanity again. Not by his actions though

but by the actions of his older brother, who went to rescue Chorus so that she could use her magic to save him.”

Laina waited for him to continue, but he stopped and just stared on at the ocean instead.

“You didn’t just do this for him,” she said. “You protected Chorus, you brokered a deal for the crew

and you saved us!”

At that moment, Melody made a cooing sound. Julius turned to look at the baby, he gave a slight grin—Melody was the only thing that could break through that impenetrable hull of his. He then looked up at Laina, putting his hand up to her face.

“I’m fine, Laina,” he said, stroking her hair.

“You better be,” she said, lifting Melody up. “Because you still have to protect us.”

Julius nodded and motioned around the deck.

“I’ll always protect my crew,” he said with a grin.

Laina caught an odor and looked down at Melody.

“Uh-oh,” Laina said. “I think she needs to be changed.”

Julius leaned over and gave Laina a kiss. As he pulled away, she saw the glint of sunlight peek through the clouds behind them—piercing the blanket of dark clouds.

Laina began to walk under deck, then looked one more time at Julius as he stood overlooking the ocean. She knew that no matter what ship they were on, her captain really would always protect them.

******

Julius waited for her to be under deck before activating his ear-link.

“You there,” he whispered.

“Aye, Julius,” Reece said.

“Sitrep,” Julius whispered.

“Mission accomplished,” Reece said.

Julius smiled. Reece and Wolf Squadron finally had taken care of Von Haufsberg.

“You should have seen him sizzle,” he heard Taffy say.

“And don’t worry,” Reece said, “it will look like a typical space-faring accident.”

“Good,” Julius said. “What are you guys going to do now?”

“We’ve got a meeting with Xanthus,” Reece said. “He’s got something in mind for us

a special job of some kind. But don’t worry, Wolf Squadron will always be on standby to protect you three. You go enjoy yourself, Captain—enjoy the rewards from all that good luck.”

The conference link ended.

Julius stared back out at the ocean. He’s still not sure if he’s completely over Daryl’s death—he never got to make peace with him and that hurt even more than his passing. It was something he would simply have to carry with him, like the many scars he’s inflicted on his soul in over a century of life. Perhaps it will take another century to heal them.

On the horizon, he saw dark clouds gathering in the distance, lightning dancing inside them—it reminded him of the nanobot swarm. He briefly wondered what happened to Chorus and Daniel—were they really gone?

Laina came back on deck with the baby. She shot him a smile as she went to sit down on a lounge chair.

Julius looked at her playing with Melody. What was in store for them when she grew up—and what kind of A.I. offspring would she be? All he could hope was that history did not repeat itself yet again.

Julius walked over to them and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled.

The three of them would sail fate’s currents—and hopefully, this time, destiny would let them live a real life for a while.

EPILOGUE

The doctor waited for the reporter to leave. When he was alone with the patient, he leaned over and whispered into his ear.

“So, you’re the one who killed Mother. How pathetically weak you look now. Ironic.”

Daniel Chin inspected the tubes and wiring coming out of the general’s body.

“Don’t worry, though—I’m letting bygones be bygones.”

Daniel looked at Valdez’s head, running his fingers around the open wound that exposed his brain—so easy it would be to finish him.

“I’m not here to kill you, General,” he said, taking in a breath. “The irony is that I’m here to help you. I will save your life, for a while at least—and in return you are going to help me.”

A stream of nanobots came out of Daniel’s hand and entered Valdez’s head. The general’s body quivered, and his arms and legs began to jerk, then the wounds on his body slowly began to heal.

“You see, everyone needs a backup plan. And you, General Hugo Valdez, are mine.”

—The End—