Dark Abyss

(The Eternal Frontier, Book 5)

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Anthony J Melchiorri

May, 2020

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Books by Anthony J Melchiorri

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Also by Anthony J Melchiorri

Books by Anthony J Melchiorri

The Eternal Frontier

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Eternal Frontier (Book 1)

Edge of War (Book 2)

Shattered Dawn (Book 3)

Rebel World (Book 4)

Dark Abyss (Book 5)

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The Tide Series

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The Tide (Book 1)

Breakwater (Book 2)

Salvage (Book 3)

Deadrise (Book 4)

Iron Wind (Book 5)

Dead Ashore (Book 6)

Ghost Fleet (Book 7)

Devil to Pay (Book 8)

Dry Gallows (Book 9)

Final Surge (Book 10)

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Black Market DNA

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Enhancement (Book 1)

Malignant (Book 2)

Variant (Book 3)

Fatal Injection

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Other Books

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The God Organ

The Human Forged

Darkness Evolved

Dark Abyss (The Eternal Frontier, Book 5)

Copyright © 2020 by Anthony J. Melchiorri. All rights reserved.

First Edition: May 2020

http://AnthonyJMelchiorri.com

ISBN-13: 978-1976380914

ISBN-10: 197638091X

Cover Design: Illustration © Tom Edwards, TomEdwardsDesign.com

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CHAPTER ONE

Commander Tag Brewer stood in the bridge of the SRES Argo, staring out the viewscreen at what he prayed would save humanity from utter destruction. A single creature sat next to him—his faithful six-legged pet Rizzar named Lucky. The strange alien animal rubbed her head against his leg, letting out a hissing purr, tails wagging.

“Quite the view, isn’t it?” Tag asked, scratching the back of Lucky’s head.

She mewled in agreement.

Against stars that glimmered in the black of space, his strike group made ready for a mission that no sims and no amount of intel could truly prepare them for.

And, of course, they had no sims and precious little intel anyway.

The only thing Tag knew was that their mission could not fail.

White lines of light streaked across the black, each marking shuttles zooming between the ships of Admiral Doran’s massive fleet. They ferried supplies and fresh ordnance to the four Vengeance-class destroyers and the Crichton-class carrier in Tag’s strike group. The destroyers were festooned in pulse and Gauss cannons. Slick black alloy plates concealed hordes of missile pods and torpedo bays. Each ship was carved by jagged angles, stretching nearly five times as long as the humble scientific corvette that Tag commanded.

If those destroyers were titans compared to the Argo, then the carrier was a god. The destroyers, if necessary, could squeeze into the four hangar bays of the monstrous ship. It bristled with all manner of weaponry, bulging and spiking off its oblong form. Stacks of grav impellers at its stern glowed a faint blue, each a miniature sun. Squadrons of fighters swarmed around it in formation, practicing maneuvers as small freighters docked with the carrier, unloading supplies and people.

A hatch opened, and metallic footsteps clanged behind him.

“Done in the lab?” Tag asked without looking back.

Alpha joined him, her silver chassis reflecting the glow of the viewport. “For now, Captain.”

Lucky wound between Alpha’s legs.

“Have you found out anything useful on the Collectors?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not,” the synth-bio droid said, giving Lucky a soft pat on her head. “With a sample size of only one, it is exceedingly difficult to offer an accurate assessment of the species as a whole.”

Another freighter drifted next to the carrier. Tag gestured over a nearby terminal and a holoimage appeared before him, showing a magnified view of the hangar bay as the freighter landed inside. It disgorged troops and armored exo-suits.

Alpha continued, “If we had more Collectors, I could compare their genetic data to better understand what exactly their modified DNA does to their physiology.”

“It was hard enough finding the first,” Tag said, recalling the ordeal they’d endured in their first and only encounter with a Collector on the colonization ship Dawn of Glory. “As much as I wish we had more samples to draw from, I’m not sure we would’ve survived them.”

Alpha looked out over their strike group. “Our chances of survival should we encounter another Collector colonization ship have dramatically improved.”

“That’s good because where we’re going, we may very well run into more. There’s no telling what’s on the other side of the hyperspace jump we’ll be making.”

“Does that uncertainty worry you, Captain?” Alpha asked. She had her hands clasped behind her back. Over time, she had picked up several human mannerisms. He was never sure whether it was an unconscious mimicry or if she was intentionally doing her best to appear human.

Tag smiled. “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little worried. If I’d had to do this a year ago, I’d be terrified. But I have something now that I didn’t back then.”

“A strike group?”

“That, but also you.” Tag saw her eye screens blink then catch his gaze. “You and the rest of the crew. We’ve been through all three hells and back—together.”

“While that may be true, our past success does not guarantee future performance, especially if we’re going to free all the Mechanics and humans that the Collectors have enslaved.”

Lucky sat between them, beginning to groom herself, totally uninterested now that they had stopped paying attention to her.

“Accurate assessment as usual,” Tag said. “But I believe we can handle whatever the bastards throw at us.”

“Do you have scientific evidence to support that notion?”

Tag appreciated the question. As the former Chief Medical Officer and resident scientist of the Argo, he often operated in worlds where decisions were made with piles of data. But his unexpected career as captain of the ship proved some things defied statistics and experimental results. “The thing about belief is that it can’t be quantified.”

“I see,” Alpha said thoughtfully. “I will have to assess such variables to better make my own predictions.”

“No need to develop an algorithm, Alpha. Tell me, do you think we can beat the Collectors?”

For a moment, Alpha’s silver face remained blank.

“Upon further introspection, ignoring my own statistical models, I think you’re right,” she said at last. “We will certainly find a way to unravel the Collectors’ control over the nanites enslaving the Drone-Mechs.”

“I’m glad to hear you agree.”

“The alternative is that we all perish. I choose not to give that option any statistical significance, despite how likely it seems.”

“I like your optimism.”

“That isn’t optimism. It is the only other realistic outcome. Yet I find myself unwilling to admit that we will all die.”

“I understand. I’d rather not admit that either.”

Together, they watched the ballet of metallic monsters that was the strike group. When Tag had first joined the Solar Republic of Earth Navy, he had wanted to command a ship. He had been driven by a thirst for adventure, and if he was being truthful, a desire to prove to himself, his family, and, gods be damned, everyone he knew that he was more than just the skinny kid from Old Houston. It had seemed a lofty goal, but ultimately, he had relegated himself to a fruitful career in science instead. That decision had still taken him to the far reaches of space, on adventures he had only dreamed of.

His scientific missions had also unwittingly sent him on a crash course into commanding a ship of his own. Tag had taken the new position with some trepidation, knowing he had much to learn about running a ship.

But what he hadn’t expected was the weight he now carried on his shoulders. The heavy sense of responsibility had nothing to do with maintaining fusion reactors, directing repair bots, or charting a trajectory through hyperspace. Lives depended on him—the lives of his team, all of which hung in the balance with every decision he made. Every time they donned their EVA suits and weapons, every time they engaged an enemy spacecraft, he worried that they would lose someone. Every member of his crew played a role in getting them across the galaxy and back, time after time.

So far, those that had joined him on the Argo had made it through each mission—all except for one young marine, nicknamed G. His sudden death still haunted Tag on those nights when the ship was quiet and he was alone in his berth.

Those memories also drove him forward. He knew he was leading his people into dangerous territory. Hells, he was leading this whole strike group into what was likely Collector-controlled space. Silently, he vowed he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives while they pursued this nebulous mission.

They would win. They would survive.

They had no choice if they wanted to free those who had already been enslaved by the Collectors and prevent the human race from suffering the same fate. He glanced to his left, studying Alpha. One of his earliest allies. Born from his research but grown into something much more.

The path to victory wasn’t going to be paved solely by his leadership. It would be through the work of his newly assigned strike group, and most importantly, the people—synth-bio, alien, and otherwise—that walked the corridors of their ships.

A low murmur of voices sounded outside the open hatch toward the rear of the bridge. Those voices grew louder and more combative until Lucky flitted away, hiding in the shadows with a slight hiss.

A thin-framed alien clad in a form-fitting black unisuit strode in. He had one slightly reptilian golden eye; the other was permanently closed, covered in scar tissue. The gentle flow of air from the overhead ducts caused ripples in the black fur covering his face and six-fingered hands. Coren, the Argo’s engineer and weapons expert, was a gifted technologist. He hailed from Meck’ara, home of the race aptly called the Mechanics.

Beside him walked a human with dark-brown hair tied up in a ponytail, her teasing smile contrasting sharply with her companion’s gravely serious expression. Lieutenant Sofia Vasquez had started in the SRE Navy as a pilot before finding her calling in research like Tag. She had transitioned into a career as a xeno-anthropologist. Her primary area of academic study now was inventing new ways to poke holes in Coren’s exceedingly inflated ego.

“All I’m saying is a Mechanic fighter craft may be technically superior, but that doesn’t make up for the lack of unpredictability I’ve seen in your pilots’ maneuvers.” Sofia prodded Coren’s thin chest. “I could take any one in a dogfight, any day of the week.”

“And all I’m saying is that you are absolutely wrong. Your primitive primate brain wouldn’t understand the maneuvers we’ve programmed into our fighter craft, eliminating the necessity for active interference from a foolish and arrogant pilot like yourself.”

“Arrogant?” Sofia raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m alive, aren’t I? And let me remind you, I survived damn near a decade on Eta-Five without losing an eye to an angry Forinth.” She pointed at his scars. “Who in the three hells are you calling foolish and arrogant?”

Coren sighed then looked at Tag. “Can we please throw her out the airlock? You have a plethora of pilots you can now choose from that are far more qualified than this pseudoscience-studying ape.”

Sofia threw an arm around Coren’s shoulders. He was damn near two heads taller than her, so Tag couldn’t help but crack a smile at the tableau they made.

“Can’t get rid of me,” she said. “I’m like a bad STD.”

“You sicken me.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what an STD does.”

Coren rolled his good eye as they joined Tag and Alpha. They both went quiet when they approached the massive viewscreen, all bickering forgotten when they saw the strike group.

“Look at that.” Sofia whistled. “We’ve never had this kind of SRE support on a mission before. This is going to be a gamechanger.”

“I suppose,” Coren said. “At least these primitive human ships have upgraded their weapons, navigation, and defense systems with the help of my people. There’s still one problem that they haven’t fixed, though.”

“What is that?” Alpha asked.

Sofia shook her head. “You’re walking right into his trap.”

Alpha’s eye screens made a confused emote. “I’m not walking—”

Sofia held up a hand. “Human expression.”

Coren continued. “There is something very noticeably different about all these human ships compared to a Mechanic ship.”

Alpha faced Coren, but Sofia interrupted before she could say anything.

“I’m warning you,” Sofia said. “Don’t get him started.”

“I’m already started,” Coren said. “Those human ships are so much uglier than ours. Weapons sticking up everywhere like fallen tree branches in snow. Big hulking shapes with angles that look like they’ve been punched one too many times by an Eta-Five Ice God.”

“There’s a very good reason why they look like that,” Sofia said.

Coren shot her a dubious look.

“They heard about your immense technological talents and took inspiration from your ugly face.”

“I do not know why I put up with this abuse,” Coren said. “The insults aren’t even good.”

“Maybe not, but they get under your skin. Which is good enough for me.”

Tag couldn’t help but chuckle at the almost sibling-like relationship the two had. Always at each other’s throats in their off time. But despite all their good humor now, there were no more reliable beings in the universe when they faced the business end of a pulse pistol.

A chime beeped from his wrist terminal. “It’s about time to meet with the other captains. Why don’t you two pretend to get along?”

Sofia grinned. “It’ll be hard, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

CHAPTER TWO

The Argo was never meant to be a flagship. Admiral Doran had offered Tag another vessel larger than the Odyssey-class corvette. Perhaps a destroyer or even a carrier. But he had grown used to the Argo’s strengths and weaknesses. He knew just how to press the scientific exploration ship to its limits, and his crew was comfortable here.

One of the downsides to maintaining command of the ship was that it didn’t have the same grandiose conference rooms that the larger SRE ships offered. For that reason, Tag planned to host the first in-person meeting with the entire team of strike group captains in the SRES Grand Fury, the group’s resident carrier.

That would give him and his crew time to explore the other ships as well. Tag led Coren, Alpha, and Sofia from the bridge and into a shuttle docked within their cargo bay. Sofia piloted the craft away from the Argo and zipped through the flow of intership travel moving around them toward the enormous Grand Fury. The carrier loomed ever larger the closer they got, making Tag feel as if they were descending toward a planet rather than a manmade spaceship.

A smaller docking bay designed specifically for shuttles opened, doors spiraling into the carrier’s hull. The hatch slid shut behind them as crew members in EVA suits directed them to land. The impellers hummed to a stop as Sofia expertly manipulated the controls and set them down.

“All right, boys and girls, we have arrived.” Sofia pushed a command on her piloting terminal, and the shuttle’s rear hatch opened.

Tag undid his restraints and led the team off the ship. As soon as his boot hit the ground, a marine officer called out, “Commander on the deck.”

Two lines of marines snapped to attention, frozen as they saluted Tag. He returned their salute.

“At ease,” he said with a newfound confidence. It was nearly impossible to feel like the old humble scientist and doctor he’d once been when given such a greeting.

A man with chevrons on his shoulder, indicating he was a lieutenant, strode toward him. With the shuttle bay now pressurized and atmo restored, his visor slid back.

“Commander Brewer, welcome aboard the Grand Fury.” His steel-gray eyes flitted for only a second over Coren then Alpha before discipline drew them back to Tag. “Captain Hibino has sent me to escort you to the meeting chamber.”

“Very good,” Tag said. “Lead on.”

The lieutenant took them down a corridor ribbed with silver bulwarks. Men and women raced along the halls. Droids followed, transporting crates and weapons. All made way for the lieutenant and Tag’s team, along with the six-man marine escort trailing after them. It reminded Tag of how the autopods in the Mechanic cities sped through city streets, deftly avoiding pedestrian traffic.

The Grand Fury was more like a flying military base than a ship. They continued down several passages winding into larger corridors. Vast polyglass windows gave him views of the fighter bays. The squadrons of fighters looked like flocks of mechanical birds of prey. All aggressive edges and compact cannons, missiles tucked neatly under stubby wings made solely for carrying weapons.

A couple of elevator rides and moving walkways brought them past command rooms full of holoterminals, past the med bay, and a couple of mess halls. Throughout the whole ship, he thought he could feel the gentle hum of the massive fusion reactors that fueled it.

“Big upgrade from the little ship that was supposed to be my ride off a planet with color-changing octopus people, huh?” Sofia asked, giving him a sly grin.

Coren shrugged, his golden eye tracing over the rivets where the ceiling met the bulkhead. “It is not quite Mechanic quality, but it is amazing that you primates could invent something good enough to travel through space in the first place.”

“You cannot neglect the fact that primates invented me,” Alpha said, “which is a rather impressive feat that I do not believe the Mechanics have achieved.”

Sofia clapped Alpha on the shoulder, and the droid almost looked surprised. “That’s right, sister. You tell him.”

Alpha cocked her head. “I did already tell him.”

The corners of Coren’s lips twitched, the closest thing the Mechanic would ever get to a smile. That good humor didn’t last much longer when they turned another corner to the command information center. Two marines stood guard at the door of the CIC. They exchanged salutes with Tag then opened a wide polyglass hatch. Inside was a scene Tag could best describe as controlled chaos. Officers sat or stood at terminals all over the wide, U-shaped space, their voices carrying. Huge viewscreens surrounded the front half of the chamber, lending a view into the swarming fighters outside the ship. A plethora of holos displayed everything from maps of the star system to schematics of the ship itself.

Toward the rear, a second platform overlooked the room. There was a crash couch there, situated so whoever sat in it had a view over the whole space. Standing at the railing overlooking the CIC, a woman in a white uniform stood with her hands clasped behind her back. Her black hair was tied in a tight knot at the back of her head.

She caught Tag’s eye and gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment. The lieutenant stayed behind as Tag led the crew up the stairs to the platform.

“Commander, it’s a pleasure to have you aboard,” Captain Hibino said.

“Impressive ship,” Tag said. “I’m glad to finally see it in person. Holos and sims just don’t do it justice.”

“That they do not. When the cannons are firing and the fighters are launching, there’s no other feeling that can ever match it. I only wish you would get the chance to appreciate that in my seat.”

Tag didn’t know Hibino well enough to know if that was some kind of veiled slight, but for now he would give her the benefit of doubt. He chose to take it as an expression of personal pride, making only a mental note for later. He was under no illusion that his taking control of a strike group like this hadn’t ruffled a few feathers.

“I’m sure it is quite the experience,” Tag said.

Hibino nodded and then turned, ushering them toward a hatch. At her approach, the spiraled doors of the hatch retracted, opening onto a wide conference room. Unlike the room in which Tag had occasionally met with Admiral Doran of the SRES Montenegro, with its impressive nautical-exploration-themed artwork, this chamber was nothing but rough alloy bulkheads and chairs that looked as if they’d be more at home in the brig than in a meeting place for officers.

Sofia shot Tag a look. He could tell what the anthropologist was likely thinking. These austere accommodations told as much about Hibino and her style of leadership as anything he might read in her service records.

Around an oval steel table sat four other men and women. Others that Tag had had holo-conferences with, whose service records he had also studied. And on occasion, he had met with them individually. Never had all these people been assembled in a single physical location.

Captain Cheung of the SRES Courage was leaning across the table, her jaw set in a determined expression, nodding as she talked with Captain Singh of the Broadsword. Singh had a dark beard, his hair concealed by a dastaar wrapped tight around his head. Captain Petrov of the Ironsights rumbled when he spoke, his deep voice projecting over the others, vessels pulsing in his forehead. Next to him was Captain Holland of the Wolfhound, her athletic frame appearing almost diminutive compared to Petrov, though she showed him no quarter.

“Captains,” Tag said, mustering as booming a voice as he could. He would give them no chance to make him say it again. Begging for their attention was not the first impression he wanted to make.

Fortunately, all four stood, letting the tendrils of their argument freeze quicker than a puddle on Sol’s moon. They faced him as men and women with storied careers in the SRE armed services. People who had devoted their lives to warfare, studying it even in their sleep. And now they stood at attention for him, a scientist who had risen through the ranks through sheer happenstance.

No, not just luck. Tag could feel the warmth of Coren and Alpha and Sofia beside him. His crew had seen him through missions these four captains could only imagine in their most gutfire-fueled dreams.

He had already proven himself to their superior, Admiral Doran. And now he just had to prove to those serving under him that he and his crew were perfectly capable of dealing with the threats waiting for them on the other side of the galaxy. After facing a post-human—a Collector—in person, saving the planet of Meck’ara, and stopping a rebellion on Orthod before it started, he had thought that would be easy.

But as soon as he gave a nod to put his officers at ease, their voices erupted back into the arguments that he’d interrupted. He tried not to underestimate his enemies as a rule, but he had certainly underestimated his allies.

CHAPTER THREE

Alpha and Sofia sat down on either side of Coren. The captains seemed not to notice.

At first, Tag said nothing, merely crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed the four arguing captains. Petrov’s face quickly turned red. Singh’s nose twitched, and Cheung shook her head, seeming to dismiss every idea out of their mouths. Holland let out an exasperated sigh.

Standing beside Tag, Hibino leaned toward him. “Doran promised me these were some of the best captains out there. Not compromised by the conspiratorial roots that have embroiled Starinski Labs and the Collectors.”

“These were the best Doran could round up?” Sofia asked. “How many were compromised?”

None of the other captains seemed to have heard her except Hibino. “The number is depressingly high. Nearly half the fleet was grounded.”

“Three hells, half our people were collaborating with the Collectors?” Tag asked.

Hibino shook her head. “It wasn’t quite like that. There were handfuls of traitors on each ship. Those traitors infiltrated the upper ranks or were working to install their own versions of AI into the vessels. Many of those grounded ships and crews are being quarantined. We had very few, really, that had not been touched by the collaborators.”

“Any guarantee that we didn’t miss any?” Tag asked, looking between the captains and Hibino.

“In war, guarantees are as good as trying to predict the next solar flare. You can do your best, but in the end, it’s still going to hit you when you least expect it and knock you on your ass.”

“I appreciate the honesty, Captain,” Tag said.

The four captains’ voices clashed against one another like a storm of colliding torpedoes. They knew Tag was on deck; they knew he was their commanding officer. And yet they were too caught up in their own discussion to give him the proper respect owed his rank. Either they were truly passionate about whatever they were discussing—or they still did not see him as the commander of this strike group.

Tag had a feeling it was a little of both.

In the lab, he had worked with his fair share of disgruntled scientists or stubborn lab techs who thought they knew better than him. His teams had usually only consisted of small groups, never more than two or three people at time. But he could recall the arguments well, and he had honed his own particular brand of dealing with interpersonal conflicts. He found when people were charging at one another like a pair of dreadnaughts in interstellar battle, the last thing you wanted to do was dive right into the fray with them. That only fanned the flames of conflict.

A better strategy was to disrupt expectations. Subvert their expectations and throw off their momentum.

So instead of engaging, Tag wandered toward the head of the table. There he stood looking at each of the arguing captains, silent, maintaining a stoic expression.

Singh was the first to go quiet and look at him with bemusement. With him dropping out of the argument, Cheung went next. Holland went after, and Petrov kept going, unperturbed by his colleagues’ lack of attention.

“We must not hesitate. Screw a science mission. We should strike immediately, level every—"

“Hey, Cue Ball,” Sofia said. “Eyes up there.”

Petrov looked like he was about to explode. His eyes met Tag’s, fire still radiating behind them.

“Thank you for your attention,” Tag said calmly. He motioned for Hibino to have a seat while he remained standing. Usually he liked to be eye level with his crew, to treat them as equals, but he wasn’t about to give this table of scorpioids a chance to strike out at one another again. “It looks like we have far more work ahead of us than I anticipated.”

“Sorry, Commander,” Holland began, green eyes sweeping the table. “We’ve been under a great deal—”

Tag cut her off with a wave. “Trust me, I know. You’re trying to convince yourselves that Admiral Doran isn’t nuts for sending you off under the command of a guy who, not long ago, was treating colds and playing with pipettes in a lab.”

Hibino’s lips curled ever so slightly into a smirk.

“Commander, if I may speak freely,” Petrov said.

“Right now, you may not.”

Petrov looked like he’d been punched squarely in the chest. Tag was certain this was a man who wasn’t used to being told no.

“You need to understand that all your years of experience have not prepared you for what you’re about to face,” Tag said. “And I know this, because as a medical officer of the SRE, I underwent much of the same training as you. While my advanced studies led me to medicine, I was once on a trajectory to a traditional captain MO like all of you.”

Tag left out the part in which he had screwed up his captain training and was forced to change to a science track. That part wasn’t important to his point.

“Our enemy is not some bloodthirsty alien race with a single-minded determination to kill us. It’s not another colony rebellion or a group of renegades trying to establish some new galactic order. Our allies have been compromised. They’ve been lured to the side of the Collectors. And the Collectors have their roots in humanity.”

Tag paused, finally taking a seat, and gestured to Sofia. “Lt. Vasquez, besides being a talented pilot, is also a xeno-anthropologist. She’ll tell you what we know about these Collectors, and then we’re going to talk about how in the three hells we defeat them and their nanite-based technologies so we can get our people back. That’ll be when we can resume your debate again, but maybe with a little more decorum.”

The four captains nodded, and Tag almost sighed in relief. He hadn’t been sure they’d listen to him.

Sofia tapped on her wrist terminal. The holo in the middle of the table came to life. A blue light bloomed above them all, nearly two and a half meters tall. It was a life-sized Collector, complete with cobalt skin, a lanky body molded by low-gravity environments, and that searing third eye in its forehead.

“These bastards think they are better than us,” Sofia said. “They want every human being—Sapes, they call us—to join them on their path of forced genetic enhancement. They believe the only way for humanity to survive in the universe is to ensure steady and directed artificial evolution through genetic engineering.”

“Genetic engineering itself isn’t entirely unreasonable,” Petrov said, folding his bulging arms over his chest. The guy probably had a few genies himself.

“The issue isn’t the genetic engineering,” Sofia said. “It’s the forced part.”

“That and the genocide of entire species that stand in their way,” Coren added gruffly.

Sofia’s bottom lip trembled slightly as she paused. Tag recalled all too clearly the vats of dead aliens the Collectors had experimented on and kept within chambers aboard the old UNS Hope. They had nearly wiped out the Melarrey and enslaved most of the Mechanics, two races that had proven to be Tag’s best allies.

“We cannot allow their power to go unchecked,” Tag added.

Cheung’s head bobbed with everything Tag and Sofia said. “Absolutely. They’ve got to be stopped. It’s why I’m here.”

Singh looked like he was about to argue that point but thought better of it, shrinking back into his seat. Instead, he asked, “So these Collectors. You’ve only actually seen one of their ships, right?”

Tag nodded. “I’m afraid so. We only managed to take down the single colonization ship. Each of those ships, massive as they are, are controlled by a single Collector. The rest is pure automation—nanite systems that can be molded and shaped by the ship’s AI systems into everything from self-repairing bulkheads to nano-golem guards capable of repelling invaders.”

“Hence the emphasis on equipping all your ships and marines with energy-based weapons,” Coren chimed in. “Kinetic weapons do not destroy the nanites. Intense energy, radiation, heat. That’s what’s required to disrupt them at a molecular level and prevent them from reforming and repairing over and over again.”

“And what about the Collectors themselves?” Holland asked.

Tag inhaled. He was dreading this question because honestly, there wasn’t a good answer for it. In science, careful statistical analysis was always necessary to provide data he could be confident in. If he could only run one experiment with one test subject, there was no telling if the results he obtained from it were a fluke.

With the Collectors, he had only one data point. One sample subject.

“After we killed a Collector named Ezekiel aboard the Dawn of Glory,” Tag said, “we pulled some data from his ship before it was destroyed. But even when we faced off against the Collectors’ human collaborators, we only met normal human beings.”

“Then all the operational data we have is from a single Collector and a single ship,” Petrov said. “It doesn’t inspire much confidence.”

“For all we know, if these people are into genetic engineering, none of the others look like that,” Cheung said, waving at Sofia’s holo of Ezekiel still floating between them all. “We have no idea how they act or how they fight.”

Tag nodded. “Now you understand why we are being sent out there. We are facing an unknown enemy that might very well have many faces. Three hells, we already know they have many faces. They’ve used the power of their nanite technology to enslave other races to fight beside them. They’ve offered the false promises of liberation from danger and the restraints of the human condition to convert our own brothers and sisters. The enemy is at once a complete stranger and, at the same time, relies on those we all know and love to fight their battles for them.”

Now he definitely had all the captains’ attentions.

“That’s why the admiral put me in charge of this mission. We’re venturing into unknown territory to find a way to liberate all the millions upon millions of lives that have been enslaved by Collector technology. The truth is, when this war comes to a head, we’ll need every bit of intel and every last ally we can muster. That includes recruiting all those who have been imprisoned by the nanites.”

He put a hand over his chest then indicated his team. “As researchers, we know what it’s like to wade through these types of uncertainties. We know how to disprove faulty hypotheses and test good ones. It will be our job, with your support, to study the Collectors and learn everything we can about them. And if we all do our jobs right, then we’ll be able to finally destroy the Collectors.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The holo of the Collector rotated slowly. Tag could almost see the implications of what he had said sinking into the minds of the captains.

“Our primary objective is to infiltrate Collector-controlled space and uncover a way to disrupt their nanite technology,” Tag said. “Fortunately, we will not be alone in this endeavor. Our Melarrey and Mechanic allies will join us. The Mechanics have also outfitted us with grav-wave communication equipment capable of transmitting FTL communications faster than our courier drone technology and at ranges exceeding lightbeam comms.”

Petrov eyed Coren. “And we can trust these Mechanics?”

Coren’s fur bristled. “More than we can trust you.”

When Petrov started to rise from his seat, face gone red again, Holland put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, we can trust them,” Tag said. “They’ve pulled through for us time and time again. They want to stop the Collectors as much as we do. Perhaps more. Once we decide where we’re going and when, they will be there, ready to fight alongside us. We will be sending encrypted comms to all the allies we can muster.”

“I’d prefer to meet them in person,” Holland said, “rather than on the battlefield.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have that luxury,” Tag said. “They needed to repair and restock their vessels, and we’re woefully unable to do that for them.”

Cheung leaned across the table, hands folded. “If you vouch for them, fine. But that begs the question, then, of when and where?”

“That’s what we’ve come to discuss,” Tag said. “Alpha, if you will?”

The synth-bio droid merely glanced at the holo, and the glowing projection changed from Ezekiel to a map of a star system.

“We intercepted a Starinski ship leaving the planet of Orthod, destined for this location,” Alpha said, gesturing at the holo. Specks orbiting the star were labeled as nondescript planets. “Very little information is available on this particular star system. All we have is a destination of this ship, a vessel known as the Forge of Blood. Our recovered data suggests they intended to meet with elements of the Collector fleet.”

“Okay, then let’s go,” Petrov said. “Sooner we find these bastards and shoot them out of the damn stars, sooner we’re done, right?”

Cheung looked between Tag, Hibino, and the other captains. “Agreed. We’re wasting time by sitting here and talking. There’s no better time to act.”

“I don’t like it,” Singh said. “We’re operating off the intel we gathered from a single ship. Throwing a whole strike group at some random coordinates sounds like a wild goose chase at best and suicide at worst.”

Holland steepled her fingers together. “The last thing I want to do is start this mission by falling right into a Collector ambush. I have a feeling Doran didn’t put us all together so we could slip through hyperspace only to end up like a planet in the middle of a meteor shower.”

Hibino stared at the blurry holo of the stars and planets slowly rotating around the table. “We don’t need to use the exact coordinates. Travel to a nearby point then approach whatever is waiting for us more cautiously.”

“And then risk missing whatever we’re looking for by taking too long,” Petrov said.

“He’s right,” Cheung added. “Say we’re following that traitor ship and they’re meeting up with the Collectors only briefly. We could lose them. And if I’m understanding correctly, this is our only lead, yes?”

“That is a correct assessment,” Alpha said. “We have no other indication where we might find the Collectors or their allies.”

“Sure we do,” Singh said. “We know they’re working with Starinski. Why not press more of the corporate people there about it? Perform a couple interrogations, force them to talk.”

“That’s problematic in itself,” Cheung said. “Torturing people never produces very reliable results.”

Tag had to agree. Plus, anything bordering on torture was at odds with everything he’d been taught in medical school.

“And interrogations take too long,” Petrov said, sounding unperturbed. “The more time we spend trying to find where these Collectors are, the less time we’ll have to catch them. For all we know, all those bastards who fled Starinski when we shut them down have already warned the Collectors to start preparing themselves for an SRE invasion.”

“Good point,” Hibino said. “It’s no secret that we’ve been routing out all Starinski’s spies. The corporation is a walking husk of what it used to be. But we’re talking about millions of associated people. If even a few slipped through the cracks, the Collectors would know.”

Tag sighed. “We can assume the Collectors know we’re coming after them.”

“Then let’s give them what they want.” Petrov slammed one fist into an open palm. “Slip right through hyperspace. Catch them before they have time to prepare.”

“Sounds to me like these are the type of people who are always prepared,” Holland said. “Maybe we can send a courier drone through first. Scout it out.”

“Do you want us to send them an official notification that we’ll be coming to investigate too?” Petrov asked, a snide twist to his tone.

“Then send one of us,” Cheung said. “A single destroyer. The rest of you can jump in somewhere safer, farther away. Three hells, I’ll go myself to scout it out. And if there’s a battle brewing, I can handle myself long enough until you arrive.”

“It’s probably better if we avoid battles,” Singh said. “I don’t like our odds if we have to come rescue someone from the strike group.”

“Look, if you want to tiptoe around space, good luck with that,” Cheung said. “By the time we show up to wherever this Forge of Blood was supposed to go, I’ll bet you my ship that they’ll all be gone.”

“We’re presuming that they’ve got an entirely mobile fleet ready to flee at the first sign of danger,” Hibino said. “That may not be the case. For all we know, we could be headed toward some kind of space station or a planet the Collectors are using as a base.”

Cheung wasn’t going to give up. She leaned forward as if ready to sprint to her ship at a moment’s notice. “What if it’s just a location where this Forge of Blood was supposed to briefly meet up with a Collector ship before they both jumped somewhere else?”

“Then we’ve already lost them,” Singh said. “In which case, caution costs us nothing.”

“If you’re wrong, then it costs us everything,” Petrov growled.

“We cannot let the Collectors get away,” Cheung said. Then she did something Tag hadn’t expected. She looked straight at Coren. “How would you feel if we lost these bastards? After everything they’ve done to your people?”

Emotions weren’t normally talked about by Mechanics, and Cheung probably didn’t understand that. If it weren’t for the slightly flared flat nostrils, Tag might’ve thought the Mechanic was perfectly composed. But he’d served beside Coren long enough to recognize the hints of anger when they appeared.

“What happened to my people is in the past,” Coren said. “But we have control over our future now. You humans, us Mechanics. It does not matter how any one of us as individuals feel. Emotional arguments are irrelevant. What is most important is what we do.”

“And what would you propose we do, Mechanic?” Petrov said.

“Destroy the Collectors. As quickly as we can.”

“So you’re with us.” Cheung looked between Tag and Coren. “Jump straight through hyperspace, go on the attack.”

Coren’s eye narrowed. “That would not be pragmatic. And I don’t think it’s wise for you to try manipulating me, as if bringing me on your side will change the commander’s mind.”

Cheung looked at a loss for words. Then Coren’s mouth widened into a smile. A forced one, to be sure—but one Tag figured was being performed for the sake of the other captains.

“If you think that my feelings have impacted our success thus far, you’d be sorely mistaken,” Coren said. “Commander Brewer has proven to me that humans are more intelligent than I had once thought. Or at least, Tag has proven that he is more intelligent than I had once thought. I’m not sure I can say the same about the rest of you yet.”

“I have their intellectual assessment records on file from their service records if you are interested,” Alpha said, doing her best to be helpful.

“I don’t think that’s necessary right now,” Sofia said. “But thanks, Alpha.”

Hibino gave a slight nod. “Admiral Doran put Commander Brewer in charge for a reason. We’ve been arguing about this all day, and I don’t think we’re getting anywhere between the five of us. So, Commander, what would you have us do?”

All eyes turned toward Tag. The captains might have been arguing for hours before he arrived, but he wished he had time to weigh the options, come up with new plans, and assess them in a series of exercises and simulations. Experiments, in other words. That was what he did best.

But time marched on no matter what he did. There was little he could do to change that. All he could do was make a decision now and move forward, knowing that whatever he did, the lives of everyone in this strike group would be in his hands. The lives of perhaps everyone in the SRE, the Mechanic Enclave, and what remained of the Melarrey relied on his choices, too.

Those words he’d learned on Orthod replayed in his mind. A lesson from a traitor. But a lesson all the same.

Be the dragon.

He stood. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Tag settled into the crash couch on the Argo’s bridge, wearing his full EVA suit. He had chosen to set out immediately. He had also notified their Mechanic and Melarrey allies, even sending a message to Raktor in hopes the plantlike alien might respond. Although he agreed with the captains that they needed to act, his plan had been different from anything the others presented at the meeting. Tag could only hope that he’d made the right call.

Around the bridge, the other crew members were settled into their stations. Alpha was ready with the navigation and shield systems. Coren prepared their weapons, should they encounter anything hostile during their transitions between normal space and hyperspace, and Sofia was ready to take control of the ship if their AI navigation systems failed during transition.

But before they could make the jump, they had to execute his plan. “Alpha, status report.”

“T-Drive spooling. Trajectory calculated and ready. Courier drones are also primed for deployment.”

“Perfect,” Tag said.

He felt the thrum of the ship through his bones, all that energy waiting to be unleashed. Or maybe that was just the adrenaline surging through him.

He activated the strike-group-wide comm channel. “Strike Group Argo, commence courier launch.”

“Commencing,” the voices came back.

All across the view screen, Tag watched flickers of light trace away from each of the ships. Those lights each represented a small courier drone. They accelerated until disappearing in a blinding flash of white.

“All drones transitioning to hyperspace,” Alpha reported. “Argo T-Drive is spooled. Ready to commence transition at your word, Commander.”

“Execute,” Tag said.

The ship groaned for a moment, and the growl of the grav impellers reverberated as they rocketed forward. The sudden movement pressed on Tag’s insides, and the restraints on his crash couch tightened around his chest. The whole ship shook, and he felt that familiar heavy weight of acceleration squeeze on his lungs until the inertial dampeners kicked in, alleviating the g-forces. Light overwhelmed the viewscreen for a second before giving way to gentle waves of rolling green and purple, plasma coursing over the ship like waves over the seashore.

Everything seemed to quiet as the whine of the T-drive leveled out and the ship settled into faster-than-light travel.

“Transition complete,” Alpha said. “We’re estimated to arrive at our destination in four days, sixteen hours, and nine-point-three minutes.”

“Excellent.” Tag breathed a sigh of relief. He undid the restraints on his crash couch and stood. Coren and Sofia followed suit, each taking off their helmets, and Tag glanced at them. “You all know what you’ve got to do.”

“I do, Skipper,” Sofia said. “I need to take a nap. Been up too long dealing with all these other captains and their egos. And I thought his was big.” She used her thumb to indicate Coren.

“At least I am capable of admitting when I am wrong. I’m not so certain about these new friends of ours.” Coren looked at the viewscreen. They could see the vague outlines of the other ships flitting through hyperspace. The vessels looked more like blurry ghosts through the waves of plasma than the mechanical monsters that they were. “Especially that Captain Petrov. Quite a stubborn human.”

“Cheung isn’t much better,” Sofia said. “You can tell they still want to go in with guns blazing.”

“That would result in a highly improbable chance of success, according to my analyses,” Alpha said.

“That’s what my gut tells me, too,” Tag said. “Sofia, go take your nap. Then maybe we can discuss logistics after dinner. Coren, work with the marines to make sure weapons are set up. We need to be prepared for anything, whether that’s a prolonged ship-to-ship battle or a boarding situation. Even in hyperspace, I’m not sure we’re safe.”

Finally, he looked at Alpha. “You and I will go to the lab later. We need a plan for what happens when we find the Collectors.”

“If we find them,” Sofia said.

“You’re starting to sound a lot like Singh,” Tag said.

“Just trying to be realistic,” she said. “We’ll need to think of alternatives in case we don’t find anything out there.”

“In that case, we might not need any alternatives,” Tag said dourly. “I’ve got a feeling if we miss out on this, the strike group is going to have my head.”

“I like your head where it’s at, so we better pray this works,” Sofia said, stepping toward the hatch to the corridors.

“Prayers mean nothing,” Coren said. “It will be the machines that answer our commands. That is, if our plan works at all.”

“I give it a—” Alpha began.

Tag waved her off. “I know the chances, and I know they’re slim. No need to go over it again.”

Coren walked toward the hatch. “If you need me, I’ll be with the marines in the armory.”

Tag was left alone with Alpha. He joined her at the nav station, leaning over her shoulder as he studied the holo. The projected image showed the approximate locations of the courier drones. There was one for each ship, traveling like a mirror image of their strike group. Except these drones were headed to a location several hundred thousand klicks from where Tag had set the strike group’s destination. The drones would arrive at the Forged of Blood’s exact destination, according to the data they had pulled off the ship. They would act as decoys, retreating at the first sign of danger to draw any potential Collectors out, reporting on the enemy numbers while buying Tag and his team time.

“You do not trust other humans, do you?” Alpha asked him.

Tag put one hand on the back of her crash couch, leaning on it. “It’s not quite like that.”

“Your argument for sending these drones was that the Collectors would be expecting us. You assumed that even if Hannah Baker or one of the other traitors we met on Orthod knew we were after them, it is very likely that someone in Admiral Doran’s fleet would tell the Collectors we are headed after the Forge of Blood.”

“Yes, the odds of us having caught every traitor seem pretty low to me. You know, in the human body, eliminating every bacterial cell from an infection can take an exceedingly long time, even if you’ve visibly recovered from a disease. Sometimes, you never root out all of them, and that disease is always nesting in your body, lying dormant, waiting to reawaken.”

“We have therapeutics for most diseases. I do not see this as a significant issue.”

“It’s a metaphor. I’m afraid we haven’t rooted out every traitor, and our medicine for them isn’t effective. The Collectors will be waiting for us. They’ve toyed with us before; I have every reason to believe they’ll toy with us again.”

“It would not be prudent to do that.”

Tag huffed. A particularly bright wave of plasma glowed over the viewscreen, casting the bridge in a violet hue. “Ezekiel was not driven by logic. As much as he tried to escape it, he was still human somewhere under that mess of genetic engineering. He wanted us to entertain him. Wanted to prove he was better than us. That’s the human ego for you. The Collectors know who took their colonization ship from Ezekiel, and they’ll be more than happy to make an example of us. If not to save their own egos, then to show others in the SRE what happens when we resist.”

Alpha bobbed her silver head. “I think I am beginning to understand. Irrational thoughts often seem rational to even the most logical of humans, and people will work to justify those irrational thoughts rather than to admit they might be wrong.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Tag said.

Alpha undid her restraints and stood, shutting down the holo at her station. “I think you are acting pragmatically instead of emotionally. I noticed the other captains tried to bait you into their plans.”

“They did,” Tag agreed. “Do you think ours is better?”

“Statistically, it is difficult for me to provide an adequate assessment.”

“How about in your gut? How do you feel we responded?”

For a moment Alpha was silent, like she was running complicated calculations to answer that question. “I feel confident in your decision.”

“Because it was the right one?”

“Because you made it.”

Tag couldn’t help but smile at that. “I appreciate your confidence.”

“It is more than confidence. I have witnessed your success many times and noted that your plans have improved over time, as have their results, even in the direst of circumstances. This particular plan meshes well with what we know about the Collectors, and I think that is because of the knowledge and experience you have accrued.”

“Well, yeah.” Tag laughed. “That’s called learning.”

They started out of the bridge together, headed toward the labs. Her footsteps pinged against the metal decks as they walked side by side.

“I’m optimistic that you have learned well,” Alpha said. “We have already learned that the Collectors enable spaceships of all different species to join their fleets by equipping each with a unique identification code. Employing that tactic in the drones to make it seem like they are actually our ships should fool their systems until they are within sight distance.”

“And by that time, if we do our jobs right,” Tag said, “we’ll be ready to launch our attack. Capture a ship. Overtake their systems with your help.”

“Undefined variables make calculating the probability for success exceedingly difficult.”

“They do,” Tag conceded. “But I’m no longer in the business of assessing ‘what ifs’ and likelihoods. As a commander, I’m in the business of making things happen.”

CHAPTER SIX

Tag breathed in the sterile air of the laboratory. This used to be his home, but in the past several weeks, he’d spent far less time in here than on the bridge. Now the place seemed almost unfamiliar.

Alpha had made it her own. It was even cleaner than when he’d been the Chief Medical Officer. Everything was neatly organized. Not a single tool ever left out of place. She’d even changed where they stored everything from microfluidic chips to cell culture supplies, telling him she had chosen locations based on time-saving algorithms. He wasn’t sure that the current reorganization saved her more than a couple minutes a day in the lab, but he wouldn’t argue. Not when she could single-handedly pull off the work of a team of PhDs between their death-defying missions.

She entered the hatch to an isolated portion of the laboratory used primarily for cell culture experiments and other work that had to be carefully protected from contaminants. This was where Alpha had been “born”. Where Tag had developed the neural tissues that had become the artificial brain that had given her sentience. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of wonder, even after all this time.

Alpha dug through a cryo-freezer—a move that would’ve caused Tag to lose his flesh-and-blood fingers. But a medical droid chassis had no such disadvantage, and her hands were merely covered in frost.

Between her fingers, she held a polyglass vial. She used her other hand to clean away the dust of white ice. Inside, a black layer of sludge had sunk to the bottom. The contents of the vial were a sample of nanites that they had recovered from the brain of a dead Drone-Mech.

“Between these and the nanites the Mechanics gave us from the Dawn of Glory, I should have enough samples for our test,” Alpha said.

As the ambient temperature warmed the nanites, they began to vibrate within the vial, rising and falling like miniature tidal waves. Living dust trying to escape its confines.

“What’s in our inventory?” Tag asked.

“We have nanites from the nano-golems as well as samples obtained from the bulkhead of the Collector ship.”

Tag could easily picture the monstrous autonomous guards that had nearly been their downfall aboard the colonization ship. “They aren’t going to form into anything dangerous when we experiment on them here, right?”

If droids could shrug, Tag would’ve expected Alpha to have done just that. “There is no guarantee. However, I will not need to open these vials to perform my experiments.”

“That’s a relief. You have a plan?”

“Of course.” She almost sounded insulted. “Something Ezekiel said aboard the Dawn of Glory has stuck with me. He mentioned that the weakness of a species that is genetically homogenous is that they will all react the same way to a disease. A plague can wipe them all out. I hope to invent just such a plague that will readily disable the nanite network.”

Tag knew Alpha was smart. Three hells, smart was an understatement. But this was an undertaking he wasn’t sure even she could handle. “The Mechanics were unsuccessful at their hacking attempts when they had possession of the Dawn before it was destroyed. Why do you think we’ll do better?”

Now Alpha let out a peal of mechanical laugher. “Commander Brewer, you just told me you are in the business of making things happen. It so happens that I am, too.”

Tag laughed and clapped her alloy shoulder. “I couldn’t be prouder of you, Alpha.”

“Thank you, Commander. I will begin the experiments immediately. If I am successful, we will have a digital virus that can infect the Collector ships and disable their nanite defense and self-healing abilities. That will make any infiltration attempts and engagements much easier.”

With that, Tag left Alpha to her own devices. There was precious little guidance he could offer her anymore. He was one of the most experienced scientists in the SRE Navy, but he couldn’t hold a chem light to the brilliance that was her mind.

Tag felt the dregs of energy dissipating in his body. Sofia’s suggestion of a nap sounded damn good right now. But there was one group he had neglected since taking command of the strike group.

He could already hear the voices echoing down the passage as he approached the mess. The marines had been stuck aboard the ship while Tag had been touring different SRE vessels. Now he figured it was time to finally pay them a visit. He entered the mess to see a holo of a Turboball game cast in the middle of the space. At a table in front of the game sat Sergeant Ryan “Bull” Buhlman, his face nearly as red as his hair. Tag judged from Bull’s expression that his team wasn’t the one who had just scored. On the other hand, Rebecca “Lonestar” Hudson shared a high-five with Marvin “Gorenado” Goreham. Fatima “Sumo” Kajimi sighed, plopping into her seat with a fresh tray of food.

Lucky sat beside them all, her scaled tail wagging as she watched the game, howling along with the marines. The Rizzar looked like a mix of canine, feline, and lizard.

Sumo was the first to see Tag enter. She shot upright to attention. “Commander on the deck!”

The others followed suit, even Lucky sitting pretty on her haunches, tail still.

Tag dismissed them with a wave. “In public, maybe. But you guys know better than that.”

He grabbed an open seat next to Sumo.

“Want a drink?” she asked. When he didn’t immediately respond, she said, “It’s not gutfire. We’re not that stupid. At least, not yet.”

Bull grabbed an empty glass and poured a green liquid that smelled of oil and air recycling particles. He passed it to Tag when it was full. “There ya go, boss.”

Tag sniffed it as Lucky pressed her body against his leg, letting out a mewling hiss. He scratched at the back of her head. “It’s drinkable?”

The others laughed.

Lonestar rolled her eyes. “Come on, y’all. It’s healthy. You need some vegetables to keep your blood flowing. Last thing we want is for someone to get a coronary in the middle of a firefight.”

“Last thing I want in a firefight is to get shot in the ass,” Gorenado said, shrugging his big shoulders. His sleeveless shirt showed the wounds still covered in autoheal gels from Orthod. “Having been shot before, I can say firmly that I did not like it.”

“Then don’t get hit,” Sumo said. “Really simple solution.”

Lucky let out a hissing bark as if she was in agreement.

“If you all got my back, then maybe I won’t,” Gorenado said.

“My hope is that we don’t get in any firefights,” Tag said.

“Y’all don’t actually believe we can get by without scraping knuckles with the Collectors, right?” Lonestar asked. “We’ve faced the Drone-Mechs, we met that insane Ezekiel, and we saw the nonsense that Hannah Baker pulled on Orthod. Sorry to say, Cap—I mean, Commander—but we’re gonna be in a firefight.”

“Hence the heart-healthy drinks,” Sumo said with a look of disgust as she took another swallow. Then she held the drink up in a toast. All eyes were on her now, even as the recorded Turboball game played in the background. “Better we live on to fight another day and honor those who didn’t get the chance. Let’s toast the kid.”

“To G,” they all said, Tag included. That was the marine they’d lost back on Eta-Five, back on Tag’s first mission with the marines.

The marines had been skeptical of him then. Hadn’t trusted him. But now, here he was, drinking with them as easily as if he’d gone through boot camp on Fortico station with them.

The Turboball game was forgotten as their conversation turned toward past missions, some long before they’d been assigned to the Argo. They often shared triumphs and tragedies during meals and between mission prep.

Time passed like that on the ship, with Tag floating between Sofia and Coren and Alpha, helping out where he could, Lucky often at his heels. Everyone trying to throw themselves into chores around the Argo. Whiling away the hours until they transitioned into uncertainty.

When the moment finally arrived for transition to their target destination, Tag was in the bridge with Sofia, Coren, and Alpha in their respective crash couches. The marines were secure belowdecks in theirs, and Lucky was in the special cage Coren and Alpha had designed for her in Tag’s quarters. Everyone had donned EVA suits in case of an emergency, and their weapons were hot.

“All power is being diverted in preparation for transition,” Alpha reported.

Tag nodded, glancing at the four destroyers and the carrier drifting through hyperspace with them.

“Strike Group Argo, prepare for transition,” he said over the comms.

Soon they would find out whether the ploy with the courier drones had worked. It likely wouldn’t take long for the Drone-Mechs or Collectors waiting on the other side to figure out those couriers were nothing but a diversion. But if it worked, it would buy enough time for Tag’s group to catch up.

Alpha tapped on her terminal. “Ready to transition.”

“Execute.”

A flurry of affirmatives came over the line. Tag counted them. All but one had come back as the ships begin to blur into a bloom of white light, heading back to normal space.

“Ironsights, this is Argo,” Tag said. “Execute transition. Do you copy?”

There was no response.

“Captain Petrov, do you read?” Tag tried again.

The other four ships were already disappearing, dropping out of hyperspace. But the Ironsights still rocketed alongside them. Tag tried hailing them again but was met with no response. They were running out of time to execute the transition themselves. If they waited too long, Alpha wouldn’t be able to course correct in time, and they would leave the rest of the strike group stranded.

“Ironsights, respond!” Tag shouted into the comms.

“Captain, I’m receiving a data packet,” Alpha replied. “It’s coming from the Ironsights. Accept?”

“Yes.”

A flash of blue light cut across the orange and purple plasma lapping against their viewscreen. Tag had no time to see what was on that data packet.

Coren stiffened at his weapons post. “Incoming fire coming from the Ironsights!”

Smaller glimmers of light launched from the ship. Missiles and torpedoes, cannon fire.

“What in the three hells?” Sofia said.

Then an orange glow bloomed around the Ironsights’s grav impellers. Alloy split and fractured, plasma venting out in waves, the ship pulling apart in two huge pieces. The ship was self-destructing. Tag had no time to contemplate the implications of this. He just hoped they had time to escape.

“Alpha, execute transition.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

A dark canvas studded with distant white stars bloomed across their viewscreen. The inertial dampeners kicked in, and Tag’s restraints relaxed. Ahead was the Grand Fury with the remaining three destroyers drifting silently alongside it. Tag glanced at his heads-up display to see that all four had weapons hot, cannons and missiles primed to fire.

Tag willed his thudding heart to settle. The wash of adrenaline hadn’t yet slowed. He glanced around at the holodisplay in the middle of the bridge, trying to put together everything that had just happened. The holomap showed four blinking white dots signifying what was left of the strike group.

Thousands of klicks away came the signals from their scouting courier drones. But so far, there were no flashing dots to represent an enemy contact. No enemies except for whatever had destroyed the Ironsights.

“Contacts?” Tag asked the other captains. Just because there was nothing showing up on lidar or radar didn’t mean there weren’t stealth ships lurking in the darkness, waiting to ambush them.

“Negative,” came the replies. He heard the tension in their voices. He knew they were trying to hold it together for the sake of their crews, but there was an unanswered question on all of their minds.

He steeled himself, still not believing what he had seen in those few seconds between the transition of the other ships and their own.

“Alpha, any signs of the Crucible or Stalwart?” Tag asked.

“Negative, Commander,” Alpha said. “There have been no responses from my inquiries.”

Tag waited a beat. Now came the hard part of their transition. “Strike Team Argo, Ironsights is... gone.”

“What?” Cheung asked. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Tag said over the channel. Then, off comms, he told Alpha to start going through the data packet they had received.

“How does a destroyer just disappear?” Singh asked. “I didn’t see an SOS. No transition malfunction.”

“Neither did I,” Tag said.

“Commander, you were the last to see them,” Captain Holland said. Tag didn’t like that it seemed to be a subtle accusation.

“They launched a fusillade at us, then the rear half of the ship began to disintegrate,” Tag said. “We received a data packet from them before we transitioned. Alpha is looking over it now.”

Tag replayed the images of the exploding ship in his mind again. Saw the missiles coming straight at them. Enough to turn their ship into a flaming piece of space flotsam, killing everyone inside. But though he had seen part of the ship turning to slagged alloy as it struggled to execute its transition, he hadn’t seen the whole thing go up in flames.

His stomach turned over. Good gods, what if someone was left alive in that mess? What if some of the crew had been trying to escape, and Tag had abandoned them? By now, with their grav impellers damaged and their ship in utter chaos, it was impossible to know what kind of trajectory they would be on.

If there were any survivors, they were lost to hyperspace now. All because Tag had chosen to run instead of staying with them.

“You said they fired at you,” Singh continued, voice quaking in disbelief. “But I don’t detect any damage to the Argo.”

“We transitioned right before impact,” Tag replied.

“The crew of the Ironsights could still be out there,” Holland said, echoing Tag’s dark thoughts. “Gods.”

Sofia looked up at Tag from her station as if she could tell what was going through his mind. “We made the right decision. Nobody could’ve survived that.”

“They were gone,” Tag said, trying to mirror the confidence he saw in Sofia’s assertion. “We couldn’t do anything. If we’d stayed, the Argo would’ve been flayed alive. This ship can’t survive a direct assault from a destroyer.”

There was a moment of silence. Tag didn’t need much of an imagination to guess that a storm of curses and protests was filling at least one of their comrades’ bridges.

Hibino was the first to break the silence. “Commander, I trust your judgment, but this is not acceptable. We haven’t even started this mission, and we’ve already lost a destroyer. We need to know why.”

“I will find answers, but we’re in enemy territory now,” Tag said. “I want all eyes on lidar and radar. Keep your weapons hot, energy shields primed. Just because we don’t see them yet doesn’t mean they aren’t out here.”

Tag looked at the holo of the solar system floating in the middle of the bridge. The courier drones they had sent were on course to fly by a planet orbiting around the system’s sun.

“We’ll begin our approach to the target site,” Tag said. “Alert me as soon as you spot anything suspect. If any of your drones encounter unusual activity and send a lightbeam back to us, notify me immediately.”

“Yes, Commander,” their voices came back.

Four voices. One captain lost, nearly a hundred crew members and marines with him.

As the ships spread into formation, rocketing toward the planet where their drones were headed, Tag opened a private channel with Alpha.

“What have you found?” he asked.

She replied while still monitoring their trajectory on her terminal. Yet another benefit of her synth-bio artificial intelligence was a propensity for multi-tasking. “The data packet contained an encrypted message from communications officer Lieutenant Sarah Niven.”

“Play it.”

The channel crackled. Then the sound of gunfire and plasma fire coursed against Tag’s eardrums until he brought the volume down. Screams of agony and the roar of flames nearly masked out the desperate voice.

“Commander Brewer... The Ironsights has experienced... I think it’s a mutiny. I’m not sure. There were some marines that just started firing. Then one of the officers... an officer on the bridge took over, activated all our weapons, manually overrode the T-drive, and then—”

Her voice was cut off by a booming explosion. For a second Tag feared it wouldn’t return. When he heard her again, she sounded weak, like she had been wounded.

“The Ironsights is launching all weapons. They took over the comms. We’re... we’re going down. No doubt about it... and... I think... I think you’re supposed to go down, too... Captain Petrov is trying to resist... but...” she started whispering. “More marines in the bridge. They are—”

A high-pitched screech, like malfunctioning electronics, cut through the channel. Alpha shut the recording off.

“That’s it,” Alpha said. “The recording continues, but I do not detect any more human voices or any valuable information.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Tag said. He felt like someone had taken a pulse pistol to his guts.

Tag relayed the relevant information to Coren and Sofia, trying to sound calm despite the racing of his heart. He needed to keep it together for the sake of the mission, but this was a blow he had not anticipated. Doubt ate at him, undermining his confidence.

“That is all very odd,” Coren said once Tag had finished. “Do you think those marines were collaborators or Drone-Humans?”

“There’s no way to tell now,” Tag said. “But whatever the case, we might very well have more conspirators in our midst.”

On the holomap he saw the strike group flying in formation. Were more traitors aboard those vessels, too? Was each of them a ticking time bomb, waiting for the right moment to go off? And why had the bastards aboard the Ironsights unleashed their attack right before transition? He worried those questions would remain unanswered.

“For now, all we can do is carry on as planned,” Tag said. “With extra precautions.”

He couldn’t help but remember how Lonestar had been duped into sabotaging them. All it took was one person aboard one of those ships to wreck their mission. The thought that there might be far more conspirators was enough to make him feel sick.

“Should I share this file with the other captains?” Alpha asked. “They seemed very curious about what was going on.”

Tag considered it. But if there was a conspirator among their bridge crews, he wasn’t sure whether this would help or hurt. Even in the best case, the audio would be a distraction from whatever they were about to confront. Worst case, it would set off another chain reaction, causing more mutinies and disrupting the mission entirely as suspicions flared.

“Don’t share it yet,” Tag said. “How long until we reach the target destination?”

“ETA thirty minutes.”

“We’re already in weapon range of anything that may be there,” Coren said.

That sealed Tag’s decision. “Alpha, send a message to the other captains that we need to have an immediate private conference.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Moments later, the holos of the other captains appeared around Tag’s crash couch. Hibino appeared calm and collected. Singh looked like he’d just run a marathon, sweat coursing down his forehead, and Cheung had her jaw clenched like she was ready for a fight. Holland leaned forward in her crash couch, fists tightened.

Tag glanced at his HUD, just to make sure every line was private and encrypted like he’d ordered. “I’m going to share the data packet we recovered from the Ironsights with you all later. Suffice to say, we may be dealing with Collector sympathizers or nanite-enslaved humans in our ranks. I’m telling you this because you know better than me who you can trust on your ships. Be vigilant. We’ll discuss more, but for now, let’s focus on the mission: locating the Collectors and figuring out where the Forge of Blood was heading.”

They all gave him their affirmatives. Singh and Cheung perhaps a little less enthusiastic. Hibino restrained as usual. Holland looked like she was already putting together a mental list of people to interrogate. Tag didn’t like that they seemed preoccupied, but three hells, what could he do?

If they flew headlong into a battle with the Collectors, they needed to know their crews were loyal. The enemy might not just be out there. The enemy might already be aboard their ships.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tag watched the holomap as the courier drones glided toward a large planet. There had been no ambush yet. No exploding mines or incoming fighters. None of the drones had reported so much as a drive signature from another ship.

An itching sensation at the back of Tag’s neck wouldn’t let him relax, though.

The system’s sun flared before them, a glaring white spot on their viewscreen. Silhouetted against it was a solitary planet.

“Alpha, what can you tell me about that planet?” Tag said as it loomed larger in their viewscreen.

“It is orbiting the system’s sun in the Goldilocks zone. Sensors from the passing courier drones report the atmosphere is of a chemical makeup that should support life.”

“Do we have any images of the planet’s surface? Any potential Collector activity?” Tag asked.

Alpha’s metallic fingers clacked across her terminal. “I am not getting any imaging data from the courier drones.”

“How is that possible?” Coren asked, fingers poised over his terminal. 

“The drones don’t seem to be responding to any visual imagery data requests. They seem to be... blocked.”

“Oh, three hells,” Sofia said. “Someone’s here. They’re drawing us in, aren’t they?”

“Do the drones show signs of hacking?” Tag’s heartbeat accelerated as he studied the viewscreen, waiting for the glow of a distant energy cannon or the flare of a missile launching toward them.

“There is no evidence of external manipulation in the drone carrier subsystems. But I am seeing reports of camera failure in all six drones.”

“Camera failure, my ass,” Sofia said. “It’s the damn Collectors.”

“Undoubtedly,” Coren said. “But where are they?”

“The imaging sensors of the courier drones were not altered by the Collectors,” Alpha said.

“You don’t actually believe they just failed,” Tag said.

“Of course not, Commander,” Alpha said. “That would be a ridiculous coincidence. However, the time of failure indicates that it happened well before the courier drones’ T-drives were activated.”

Now Tag thought he understood. “The saboteurs aboard the Ironsights did it?”

It wasn’t really a question.

“That appears to be the case,” Alpha answered anyway. “Although the sabotage might have been conducted by collaborators on any of the ships in the strike group.”

Tag sighed. “Let the others know.”

The planet bloomed across the viewscreen, and the outboard cams adjusted to compensate from the blinding light of the sun. Wispy white tendrils of clouds swirled around a marble of blue and green and brown, looking as if it could have been one of Earth’s siblings.

Still, no ships appeared. Maybe they had been too late after all.

“I am not getting any active weapon reads,” Coren said.

The planet’s terrain was more visible now, the dimples formed by deep canyons and mountains casting shadows over the landscape.

“If the Collectors had been to a place like this, I would’ve thought they’d start colonizing it,” Sofia said. “Perfect for humans, Collectors or otherwise.”

The leaden weight of dread started to build up in Tag’s stomach. “They knew we were coming. They tried to stop us with the mutineers in the Ironsights. They wouldn’t have left a place like this untouched.”

“Commander, I’m getting trace reads of deuterium and tritium,” Alpha reported.

Those were hydrogen isotopes present in the fusion reactors that powered most space-faring vessels.

Alpha gestured above her terminal, and the holomap at the center of the bridge morphed. A wave of white particles floated in the air around the planet. They seemed to trail away, forming a gradient that got denser toward the sun.

“Alpha, reroute the courier drones to follow those signals,” Tag said.

Now they knew that other ships had been here. And judging by the presence of those elements, it hadn’t been terribly long ago.

“If they had advance warning we were coming, then they might have pulled back,” Tag said, watching the blinking dots representing the courier drones on the holomap. They curved away from the planet and around a band tracing past the sun. “Not far, though. Maybe they’re on another planet. Waiting to ambush us.”

“Or...” Sofia said, pausing as if in thought. “Or maybe this planet is already terraformed to their liking. The whole point of their colonization ships wasn’t just to build a civilization of Collectors everywhere they went. It was to mold planets that were previously inhospitable to human existence into ones where we—or they—could live.”

Alpha’s voice seemed to brighten. “We might be, as you all say, barking up the wrong tree then. Your reasoning is sound. Perhaps there is another planet here that—”

She went silent. Tag saw why. All six blips on the holomap representing the courier drones suddenly went dark. When his eyes flickered to the viewscreen, he saw tiny pinpricks of light bloom then fade.

His stomach sank.

“All communication with courier drones lost,” Alpha said.

Coren glanced at Tag then back at the weapons station. “Commander?”

“Start charging energy cannons,” Tag said. “Sofia, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Alpha, shields at one hundred percent. Alert the strike group. All hands to battle stations.”

The klaxons wailed aboard the ship, alerting the marines belowdecks to prepare for battle.

“Any reads?” Tag asked over the strike group comms channel.

“Negative,” came the replies, one by one.

“Grand Fury, scramble two squadrons of fighters,” Tag said. “Keep them on vanguard, prepared to intercept enemy contacts. Hold the rest in reserve. Whatever is out there cannot reach our strike group.”

“Still no lidar or radar reads,” Alpha said.

“Must be some damn stealth ships,” Sofia muttered.

Tag could almost feel the vessels moving toward them, drawing ever closer to the strike group so they could unload a volley of missiles and energy fire into their flanks. They would be moving like ghosts in the darkness, nearly impossible to detect until they began firing.

“All ships, look for any aberrations in the star field,” Tag said. “If you see a star suddenly go dark, if you detect any light distortion, that’s our mark. Fire at will.”

“Understood, Commander,” Hibino responded first. “Talon and Scorcher Squadrons are running intercept formations now.”

Tag watched the storm of dots flicker across the holomap.

“Careful out there,” he said quietly. Tag had to remind himself to breathe as he watched them swarm toward the location where the courier drones had gone dark.

“Alpha, patch me into Talon and Scorcher’s channels,” Tag said.

“Talon One to Grand Fury command,” a pilot’s voice crackled over Tag’s headset. “Running intercept trajectory now. Talon, combat intervals. Steady. Fire on sight.”

The line went quiet again. Tag watched the flare of each fighter’s grav impellers glowing blue in the distance, jetting far from the rest of the strike group. Sixty fighters in total, forming a cloud of agile machines chock-full of energy cannons and missiles, ready to unleash a maelstrom of fire.

The Grand Fury dropped behind the advancing destroyers. There were another four squadrons ready to deploy should that prove necessary.

“Contacts?” Hibino asked her squadrons.

“Negative,” came the replies from Talon One and Scorcher One.

“Continue intercept formation,” Hibino said.

The cloud of fighters were now only a hundred klicks from the spot where the courier drones had been. The familiar sounds of the bridge seemed to fade away as Tag’s focus flicked between the holomap and the viewscreen.

“Talon One, reporting no sign of enemy contacts. Confirmed visual of wreckage from the courier drones.”

An image of twisted metal and globs of slagged alloy floated in the center of the bridge above the holomap.

“Continue advance,” Hibino said.

“Copy, Grand Fury. Current tra—”

His voice was cut off. A flash of green light cut through the black of space. The dot representing Talon One on the holomap disappeared. A stream of pulsefire sprayed from the fighters. Energy rounds coursed into their ranks, a kaleidoscopic fury of weapons exploding to life.

“Engaging.”

“Thought I saw—”

“To your six, to your six!”

Voices screamed over the channel. Panicked. Desperate.

Distant tongues of plasma sprayed from the fighters. Missiles lanced into the darkness. Some splashed against energy shields, their explosive force absorbed by the defenses of the enemy’s stealth ships. Others were obliterated by point-defense cannon fire. Each time the stealth ships opened fire, they were visible for a blink, barely capturable by the human eye.

Luckily, Tag didn’t need to rely on his eyes.

“Alpha, record their positions! Coren, fire missiles on her coordinates!”

This wasn’t the most effective range for missiles, but he had to do something. The dots on the holomaps representing the fighters were disappearing. Every passing second, more were lost to the darkness.

“Destroyers, move in,” Tag ordered over the comms. “Target those stealth ships when you have a read. Unleash everything you have. Grand Fury, pull back fighters.”

The orders passed from Hibino to Talon and Scorcher. But it was already too late. The fighters tried to turn toward the shelter of the carrier. Only thirty-five of the original sixty remained. They shot away from a spreading cloud of twisted alloy as what was left of the wrecked fighters turned to shrapnel.

Shots lanced away from the stealth ships, cutting into the escaping fighters. Two exploded, more cries booming over Tag’s comm link. Stealth ships appeared and disappeared, fire slashing from them and into the fighters.  

Most of the Argo’s missiles punched past where the stealth ships had been, gliding off harmlessly into the darkness.

More fighters turned to ash and fire as they raced back.

Now there were only twenty left.

Then fifteen.

Another blast of energy rounds, and all were gone.

Less than a minute. That was all it had taken. And now that they weren’t firing, the stealth ships were again invisible. Tag didn’t need to see them to know exactly what their next targets would be.

CHAPTER NINE

Pulsing cannon rounds from the four destroyers lit up the dark, reflecting through the bridge’s viewscreen. The massive ships advanced like leviathans toward where the stealth ships had last appeared.

But most of that fire was piercing nothing but empty space. The destroyers were lashing out in a defensive maneuver. Their fire wasn’t concentrated and coherent like it would be if they had pinpointed the enemies’ exact location. Instead, they were relying on chance, the hope that this scattershot approach would slam into a stealth ship’s energy shields. If a single round hit, they could focus their fire on an enemy.

But right now, the best they could do was send thousands of needling rounds into emptiness and hope something stuck. The stealth ships had ceased firing now that Talon and Scorcher were wiped out. They might have retreated or might have pulled up right next to the Argo, ready to fill the corvette’s hull with gaping wounds.

“Alpha, tell me you see something!” Tag said.

He was unable to keep the desperation from his voice. His palms were sweating, forming a sticky film in the inside of his gloves.

“Commander, should I deploy another squadron?” Hibino asked.

Her voice was no longer constrained and level. Instead, it shook with worry.

“Negative,” Tag said. “Hold them back.”

We can’t waste them too, he thought.

“Alpha, do you have any estimates on enemy numbers?” Tag asked.

Green pulse-round blasts roped away from the Argo as Coren worked the weapons stations. All of the shots went unanswered by the enemy.

“I captured visual patterns thanks to the enemy’s return fire. I calculated at least ten of the Blood-class stealth vessels.”

“Ten?!” Sofia cried.

“That is a minimum,” Alpha said. “There could be more.”

At the thought of all these invisible monsters swimming around them, Tag wanted to curse. No, he wanted to yell out that they had to pull back, regroup and go about this another way. But he had a feeling their enemy wouldn’t let them do that. They would be destroyed before their T-Drives had time to spool.

Still, this was what they had come for. They had needed to find an enemy ship. That was the first step in discovering where the Forge of Blood was headed and where it was going. They needed a link to the Collectors, and now they just might have that opportunity.

They just had to survive the next few minutes.

A blast of green light burst over the viewscreen in a spray of furious energy. Miniature lighting sparked around the shield of one of the Starinski stealth vessels, revealing its position momentarily.

“Enemy contact spotted,” Holland’s voice came over the comms.

“Concentrate fire,” Tag ordered.

Kinetic slugs and charged energy rounds crashed against the ship’s shields. The shields pulsed as they struggled to absorb the volley. Then they fizzled out with a spray of violent green sparks. Rounds punched into the ship’s alloy as it tried to adjust course, spitting out fingers of plasma as they drilled fatal wounds into its sides.

Soon the ship disintegrated in an angry white-and-blue blast, slagged alloy shooting away from it in a dangerous spray of shrapnel.

“We got it!” Cheung said.

“That was just one,” Singh said. “There are more.”

Tag looked at the holomap to see where the ship had been detected. It was halfway between the strike group and the location where the fighter squadrons had been destroyed.

“Contacts advancing!” Tag yelled over the lines. “Continue defensive fire.”

Moments after the words left his mouth, a barrage of rounds crashed into the strike group. The shields of the destroyers and the carrier sizzled and popped as they absorbed the incoming pulsefire. Missiles streaked toward the vessels. Pearly strings of PDC fire spewed from the strike group, desperate to prevent those missiles’ impacts.

“Deploy two squadrons,” Tag said to Hibino. They had no choice now. Their backs were pressed against the proverbial wall. “Maintain defensive proximity.”

Fighters joined the fray as if a hornet’s nest had been kicked. As soon as incoming fire revealed an enemy ship, the fighters blasted after the stealth vessel.

“Taking evasive maneuvers,” Sofia yelled, pulling hard on the controls. The Argo lurched, and energy rounds peppered the shields.

“Shields at sixty percent,” Alpha said.

More rounds connected with their ship.

“Who the hell is firing on us?” Tag asked, trying to make sense of the chaos.

Voices from the other captains barking orders echoed in his ears. Once again, he heard the desperate cries of the fighter pilots struggling to maintain some semblance of control over their squadrons and the battlefield.

Round after round pounded into the flanks of the destroyers. Their shields flickered, and Tag glanced at his HUD, watching the reports from each of the vessels. Judging by the rate of incoming fire, it would take only minutes for the shields to fall. Once they did, the ships would be nothing more than paper houses waiting to go up in flames.

More worrying yet were the reports streaming from the carrier. The enemy seemed to have focused on the Fury first. The ship was absorbing more fire than it was putting out. Kinetic rounds pierced its shield, slamming into the ship’s cannons, crippling a few of its mains. A stream of missiles punched into the struggling shields, creating a gap in the defenses.

Another missile found that gap, slamming into a hanger bay. Fire engulfed the bay, and through the Argo’s enhanced outboard cams, he saw the crew expelled into space from the resulting explosions, bodies cartwheeling as they froze.

They were losing this fight.

No matter how strong these destroyers were, no matter how prepared the ship’s captains had been, they couldn’t match the ghost-like capabilities of the Starinski ships. None of the SRE forces had ever faced an enemy like this. One that was as invisible as the grav waves coursing through space.

Then Tag realized what he’d been doing wrong. They were playing this battle out of the SRE playbooks. Going by the sims they’d been trained on.

Doran had trusted him with this mission because he had faced the technology of Starinski Labs and the Collectors. Not because he had aced his training or risen in the ranks like Holland, Cheung, Singh, or Hibino.

No, she had trusted him because he broke the mold.

Another rash of fire lit up their shields, rounds splashing across their aft.

“Alpha, target that ship!” he yelled as the Argo shook violently. “Activate grav tethers. We’re going in.”

Tag undid his crash couch’s restraints. So far, the enemy forces had paid relatively little attention to the Argo. The science vessel, even outfitted as it was with powerful weapons for its size, was still nothing but a small dagger compared to the broadswords that were the carrier and destroyers. The enemy could eliminate the Argo in seconds once they dispatched the larger forces.

It was time for Tag to use that mistake in the enemy’s judgment against them.

“Captain, enemy location marked. Estimated trajectory calculated,” Alpha said.

A route appeared on the holomap showing the likely location of the stealth ship.

“Sofia, take us in,” Tag said. Then over the marines’ channel, “Bull, prepare for boarding operation.”

The Starinski ship continued firing as they closed in. Rounds streamed into the Argo’s shield.

“Shields down to forty percent,” Alpha reported.

“Keep moving in,” Tag said. “Coren, focus fire on disabling enemy weapons.”

The shields of the enemy shimmered as Coren riddled their flanks with gunfire. They were close enough Tag could see the individual cannons rotating to aim on the viewscreen. Sofia put the Argo into a barrel roll, mimicking the maneuvers of the smaller fighters. She did her best to avoid the incoming fire, but they were simply too close for her to dodge most of it.

“Shields at thirty percent,” Alpha said. “Grav tether range achieved.”

“Activate,” Tag said.

The ship lurched as the tethers pulled at the sides of the Starinski ship, bringing it into a deadly embrace.

“Coren, punch a hole through those hatches on its side,” Tag said. “We need an entry point.”

A moment later, Coren’s concentrated fire ripped a hole in the side of the ship. A few of the stealth ship’s crewmembers tumbled out with the rush of expelling atmosphere.

Held tightly against their own hull, the ship could no longer maneuver away nor bring its cannons to bear. Shielded by the stealth ship, the Argo avoided most of the incoming fire. For now, at least, they were safe.

Time to break the mold again—and salvage whatever victory he could from this disaster.

CHAPTER TEN

The sounds of battle reverberated through the Argo. Klaxons screamed as the energy shields drained. Red lights bathed the corridors. The engines roared, and the ship trembled as it battled against the Starinski stealth ship struggling to get free. The deep booms of the ship’s cannons shook into Tag’s bones, and Alpha’s feet clanged against the deck as she followed him.

At the cargo bay, the marines were already waiting. All were armed with rifles and pulse grenades strapped into belts over their chests. Donning their power armor, they looked more robot than human. Long silver scars showed damage from past engagements.

“Commander,” Bull said in greeting. He tossed a rifle to Tag. “Stay behind us, and don’t do anything crazy, sir. We’ll get you in there.”

“Straight to the bridge,” Tag said.

“Count on us,” Lonestar said, pretending to tip an invisible cowgirl hat. She handed Alpha a pulse rifle too.

“Let’s go!” Tag said. “Alpha, stick close to me.”

They entered the airlock on the starboard side of the docking bay. Sumo hit the switch when they were all inside, and the hatch slammed shut. The chamber depressurized, then the outward hatch spiraled open.

“Gorenado, on point,” Bull said. “Get us across. Sumo, Lonestar, cover fire.”

Gorenado advanced to the edge of the open hatch and knelt, hoisting a cylindrical cannon to his shoulder. Sumo and Lonestar pushed themselves through the zero-g environment, floating to join the bulky marine, then activated their mag boots to plant themselves onto the bulkhead.

Directly across from them was the gaping hole that Coren had shredded into the side of the Starinski ship. Broken wires and chunks of bulkhead floated around the debris field between that ship and the Argo.

Just beyond the ship, Tag saw the battle raging on between his strike group and the other stealth ships. Explosions engulfed fighters and larger craft alike. The light from ordnance and pulsefire cutting through space reflected off the sides of the Argo and cast long shadows where the enemy soldiers had rooted themselves in their own mag boots on the other ship.

The massive exchange of firepower was belied by the utter silence of the vacuum. That quiet was only interrupted by Bull giving orders.

“Take those bastards out now!” he roared over the comms.

Lonestar lifted an anti-personnel rocket launcher to her shoulder. A rocket spiraled through the black until it erupted against the Starinski ship’s hull. Tendrils of fire spread then vanished. The concussive force was enough to launch two of the soldiers off the hull. They ragdolled away, limbs flailing, damaged suits bleeding atmo. Sumo picked off the remaining soldiers with her mini-Gauss rifle, sending kinetic slugs punching through them.

“Gorenado, now,” Bull said.

The big marine let loose his weapon. A smaller rocket-propelled grav tether speared toward the Starinski ship, pulling a long cable behind it. The rocket pierced the hull, activating the tether’s lodging mechanism. The cable went taut.

“Go, go, go!” Bull said.

Gorenado went first, latching an oversized carabiner from his suit onto the tether. Then he pushed away, activating the miniature booster jets in his armor. He shot across the void, with Sumo and Lonestar taking the plunge after.

“Commander, Alpha, you’re with me,” Bull said. He strapped a couple of cables around Alpha and Tag then secured them to his suit.

Ignobly scooping them both up after clicking his carabiner onto the tether, Bull launched them toward the Starinski ship. Tag had only a couple of seconds to marvel at the experience of jumping through nothingness. The soldiers that had been dislodged from the hull were still spiraling out of control, the escaping atmo from their suits propelling them deeper into space. Eventually they would suffocate or freeze, lost forever to the void.

Tag took a breath of quiet relief when Bull’s mag boots slammed against the hull of the Starinski ship. They rushed to join Gorenado, Sumo, and Lonestar, who had already cleared the opening into the ship.

Tag pushed aside the chunks of metal floating in front of him, trying to keep his rifle shouldered as they made their way onto the deck. The wound in the hull led to a storage bay. Frozen droplets of liquid released from bleeding hydraulics and water-exchange tubes floated around the space, and busted containers bounced against the hulls. Bodies—some whole, others torn—drifted among the wreckage.

All the carnage hampered any chance of clear lines of sight. Tag couldn’t see anything—but the marines did not have that problem.

“Contacts!” Gorenado roared. “Two o’clock!”

Tag felt the shuddering thump of rifles reverberate from the marines’ weapons.

“Another at our ten,” Lonestar said.

“Eliminated,” Sumo said a second after.

Tag crouched, following Bull. Alpha stuck close beside him. A sudden gout of plasma ripped through a floating shipping container. The container exploded into a spreading mass of melted plastic and metal, releasing stored rifles and other weapons that pinged against the bulkhead.

“Three hells!” Gorenado cursed.

“I’m hit,” Lonestar said.

An icy-cold dagger of fear plunged through Tag’s heart, only melting when Lonestar spoke again.

“It’s just superficial,” she said. “Suit’s repairing it now.”

They advanced through the swirling cloud of junk until they spotted an emergency hatch that had sealed shut to prevent the rest of the ship’s atmosphere from escaping.

“Get us in there,” Bull said, shoving aside more floating junk to make space for the group around the hatch.

Lonestar secured herself to the ceiling of the bay, like some kind of roosting alien vampire, with her rifle at the ready. Sumo planted herself right behind Gorenado as he strapped his rifle over his back. Then he withdrew a plasma torch from his utility belt and began drilling through the seals around the hatch.

“Stay back,” Bull said to Tag and Alpha, using one of his big hands to shield them. “This is going to be a little rough.”

“Everybody, clear,” Gorenado said.

Finished torching through the seals, he laid a small breaching charge. The marines ducked back. A low explosion shook the deck, and the hatch burst away from the bulkhead, flipping past Tag and into the emptiness behind him. A sudden rush of air was sucked out, carrying with it more unsecured carts and a few repair bots that had been working on the other side. Tag counted two human shapes flipping past, but he did not have time to spare them a thought.

“Quick, the next emergency hatch is shutting,” Gorenado said.

Bull once again heaved Tag and Alpha up then dragged them through the hatch, pushing against the hail of debris pounding his suit. Gorenado and Lonestar were straining to hold open another hatch in the corridor until Bull, Tag, and Alpha cleared it. Then they let the hatch slam shut, and fresh atmo sprayed in around them, the pressure settling once more.

Black and silver bulkheads reflected flashing red emergency lights down the corridor. The scream of klaxons pierced through Tag’s suit. Once again, a generated gravitational field held them to the deck. They ran through the passage, cutting down anyone who stood in their way.

“Ship schematics pair with the Forge of Blood,” Sumo said. “We should be close to the bridge now.”

They turned down another, wider passage. A sudden blast of gunfire pushed them back. Gorenado unstrapped a plasma grenade from his chest and activated it. He threw it down the corridor, and the explosive pinged across the deck.

“Fire in the hole!” he shouted.

A sudden boom was followed by a few agonized yells and a cloud of black smoke. Gorenado and Lonestar peeled around the corner and cut down the survivors with gunfire.

“Clear,” Gorenado said.

“Move,” Bull followed up. He constantly swiveled, watching to ensure no one snuck up on them.

“Almost there,” Sumo said. “Just one last turn, then we hit the bridge hatch.”

“It’s going to be reinforced,” Gorenado said. “How much time do we have?”

Tag glanced at the HUD in his suit. The shields of the Argo were fading fast. “I give us five minutes.”

“Got it,” Gorenado said. “I’ll get us through. Ready?”

Tag leaned against the bulkhead, rifle up. Lonestar got in position near him, shouldering her own weapon. “Ready.”

They pivoted around the corner, shooting. Tag couldn’t see what was on the other side, but a blaze of rounds launched around them, searing the bulkhead and sizzling through the air. A couple of energy rounds blasted into Gorenado’s chest, pushing him backward. His suit withstood the abuse as his rifle rocked against his shoulder. Sumo joined the fray, bringing fresh hell to the table.

“We got contacts on our six!” Bull began firing as he shouted.

Tag turned in time to see more advancing enemies.

These weren’t human soldiers like the others. They were much, much worse.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A stream of silver flowed down from the ventilation ducts, pooling like mercury on the deck. From that pool of liquid metal rose a humanoid monster with huge, armored shoulders and a faceless head. Its long arms turned into scything blades as it joined the other three beasts already prowling toward Tag, Alpha, and Bull.

Tag had faced these abominations before aboard the Collector colonization ship the Dawn of Glory. These were nano-golems, monsters made from coalescing nanites capable of self-repair. There was only one way to destroy them.

“Energy weapons, now,” Bull said. He swung his mini-Gauss rifle over his back, then pulled out the pair of pulse pistols at his hips.

Tag flipped his pulse rifle to charge mode, and Alpha did the same. The trio unleashed a storm of energy rounds against the golems. Wherever the energy rounds hit, glowing molten balls of nanites sprayed away. Holes formed in the golems, and Tag felt a surge of hope. They could do this.

More nanites dripped from other parts of the golems’ ruined bodies, struggling to fill in the gaps. The pulse weapons took their toll, chiseling through the golems until the beasts could no longer self-repair. They limped on dwindling limbs and collapsed forward, useless melted nanites spreading in a cloud of black dust.

“Hatch is open,” Gorenado said.

Even as he spoke, more streams of silver nanites poured out of ventilation ducts, and new golems began to form.

“Get us in there,” Bull said.

They ran down the corridor, the golems giving chase. A low explosion boomed through the passage, and Tag couldn’t even begin to guess what had caused it.

Gorenado pushed into the bridge. A storm of firepower erupted from inside the bridge. Tag backpedaled with Bull, doing their best to keep the growing ranks of the golems back.

“At this rate, we will not defeat those monsters,” Alpha said. “It is necessary to create a chokepoint.”

“We got it, droid,” Bull said. “Gorenado’s clearing the bridge.”

The gunfire continued on both sides, Tag’s pulse pounding. Golems fell to the heat of the pulse weapons churning through their bodies. Remnants of the technological nightmares joined together, forming new ones even as others perished. All the nanites swarmed and coalesced, acting as a single sentient entity.

“Bridge is clear,” Lonestar said. “Hurry!”

They needed no urging. Tag and Alpha charged in, Bull after them, his rifle still shuddering. He paused only once to replace his battery cartridge. Once Bull made it past the busted hatch of the bridge, Gorenado and Sumo shoved a broken crash couch in front of the open doorway. They used it for cover, firing at the golems outside.

“We’ll hold them back,” Sumo said.

Tag looked around the bridge. Scorch marks marred the bulkheads, and half the viewscreen was cracked, the image on it spluttering. A few officers were still strapped to their crash couches, dead. Soldiers lay in their thin black armor, sprawled over the deck, weapons fallen beside them.

“Alpha, get to work,” Tag commanded.

Lonestar shadowed the synth-bio droid as Alpha stepped up to the central terminal. She opened a hatch on her chassis’s chest and unspooled a network cable from it.

“It will take too long if I try to engage wirelessly,” she said. “The firewalls in the Starinski systems are rather powerful. Very good to prevent hacking. I can subvert and reset some of these firewalls through a direct connection.”

“Whatever you have to do,” Tag said. “We need into these systems.”

The captain of the ship still sat in his station, faceplate cracked to reveal his lifeless face. Tag pushed the man from his crash couch and took the terminal there. The station was completely locked down, likely triggered by the assault on the bridge.

“Thirty seconds,” Alpha said.

Tag watched the reports on his HUD. The Argo’s energy shields were draining as quickly as she worked. It was a race now. The ship was a sitting duck until they could untether it from the Starinski ship.

“We got more golems,” Sumo said.

She tossed a pair of grenades into the corridor. Heat and light flooded into the bridge a few seconds after. The delay gave them a brief reprieve to recharge their weapons.

Come on, Alpha, he thought, hovering over the captain’s station. Through the viewscreen, explosions bloomed across the hulls of the destroyers. The voices of the fighters clamored over the comms. The battle still raged, but his strike group might as well be shooting at the clouds. The stealth ships were simply overwhelming them, hitting and then disappearing.

So far, only a couple of the enemy ships floated crippled in the dark. Depending on how many there were still left fighting, the strike group would be nothing but scraps for the scavenger aliens, the Dreg, to pick apart.

Unless Tag’s plan worked. Risky, slightly crazy.

But he had no choice. He had to do it to save the people who had trusted their lives to him.

“Golems are getting closer,” Bull said. “How long we need to keep this up?”

“I am almost in,” Alpha said. “Soon the system will be back online, and you should have access... now.”

Tag swiped across the terminal as soon as the holopad lit up in front of him. A menu of different options appeared, giving him full access to the ship’s controls. The first command he activated brought up the communications menu.

Before they had infiltrated the Dawn of Glory, back when they had uncovered the UNS Hope and the strange collection of ships from other alien races, they had discovered that the Collectors had accumulated the ships of so many different species that they couldn’t rely on visual confirmation of whether a vessel was an ally or not. Instead they employed ID algorithms to create random numerical sequences to authenticate communications with allied ships.

And now, aboard the Starinski ship, Tag had access to an updated version of that technology. He brought up the ship’s holomap, showing a live holo of the unfolding battle outside. Another swipe of his hand revealed all the Starinski ships that were hidden in the shadows.

His heart nearly stopped.

“This far exceeds my estimates,” Alpha said, taking in the same sight. “I count twenty-four remaining Starinski ships on the battlefield.”

“Alpha, transmit the authentication keys for all those ships to the rest of our strike group. Then send the communications algorithm.”

“Yes, Commander,” Alpha said, fingers tapping across the terminal in front of her.

If this worked, then the strike group would not only access the same communication field the Starinski ships were operating on, but they would also be able to locate all the stealth ships. It would no longer matter if the enemy engaged their anti-lidar and radar masking methods.

“Successful transmission,” Alpha reported.

“Commander, what is—?” Hibino paused mid-question. “Data received. Fighters being rerouted.”

“Very good, Captain,” Tag said. Then he looked at Alpha. “Calculate which of these ships pose the greatest threat. Just like we’re doing triage in the med bay. Which needs to be dispatched first.”

“Understood,” Alpha said. “And done.”

“Transmit that sequence to the strike group.” Tag spoke over the channel to the other captains. “New targets provided. Coordinate fire according to prescribed sequence.”

The Starinski ships, perhaps too confident with their stealth capabilities, continued their assault, circling in predictable patterns.

The first Starinski ship on Tag’s list was hit by a barrage of fire, disappearing in a cloud of cutting plasma. The second followed soon after. Missiles, kinetic slugs, and energy rounds pounded the enemy forces. The Argo’s shield was no longer being drained as the strike group cut down the enemy. Nearly half the Starinski ships were destroyed before the bastards caught on that the SRE strike group now had their positions.

But while the battle outside had turned, the one inside this ship remained desperate.

“Alpha, is there any way to shut down the nanite network in this ship?” Tag asked, recalling how they had used one of their allies to disable the nanites aboard the Dawn of Glory.

“I do not have quite the same capabilities as Raktor,” Alpha said. “It will take some time.”

“How long?”

“Perhaps ten minutes.”

“We don’t got that long!” Bull said. “More of these bastards are leaking into the corridors.”

“Shit!” Lonestar said, turning and firing.

Nanites had permeated through the isolated air ducts of the bridge and were now streaming onto the deck near the ship’s piloting station.

“Alpha, scratch that,” Tag said. “I want to know the location of any Collector bases in this area. Colonization ships, satellites, whatever. Do you think you can get that?”

“Yes, Commander. With the communications network already open, I should be able to decrypt those targets.”

A nano-golem formed from the nanites trickling into the bridge. Tag swung his rifle up and joined Lonestar in taking the monster down. They worked together to secure the bridge while the other three marines did their best to keep more of the living weapons from entering.

“Changing,” Tag said, slamming another cartridge home. He fired on another nano-golem as it formed, shearing away its legs, then targeted its arms as it transformed them into serpentine blades.

All it took was one of those monsters to hold itself together long enough for a blade or lancing limb to stab through his or Lonestar’s suit.

“Commander, I am getting something,” Alpha suddenly said.

“You got a fix on Collectors?”

“No, we are receiving a strange grav wave transmission. I am having some trouble with unidentified interference, as if there is something partially blocking the signal. It’s unlike anything our ships can handle, but the Starinski ship can decode it.”

“What is it?” Tag sighted up another nano-golem and squeezed the trigger.

“It’s an SOS. There is another planet in this system, and they are currently under attack.” Alpha looked up. “The report sounds as if they are describing a Collector colonization ship, from what little I can understand.”

“Transmit the location where that signal is coming from along with anything else we can pull off this ship,” Tag said.

“We can’t hold these guys off much longer,” Lonestar said as another two nano-golems appeared on the deck.

“Then let’s get out of here,” Tag said. “Go, go, go!”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The marines, Tag, and Alpha pierced the ranks of the nano-golems with a punishing fusillade of gunfire. They sprinted through the corridors as the beasts formed alongside them, turning to spike-covered monsters that took desperate, swinging blows as they passed. One glanced off Sumo’s armor, but she dodged enough that it didn’t cause any catastrophic damage. Her suit clotted the resulting wound.

When Gorenado tore through the last emergency hatch, they all made it into the cargo bay again in one piece.

A quick ride over the cable, and they were safely back inside the Argo. A few nano-golems tried to stream across in pursuit, but Gorenado unlatched the cable before they could succeed.

Before the airlock even closed, Tag yelled into his comms, “Sofia, get us away from here!”

He watched out the porthole of the airlock as the nanites stretched toward them, turning into a long, concentrated spike, desperately reaching from the cable whipping away. But Sofia accelerated, and the nanites dispersed.

“Coren, tear that ship apart,” Tag commanded as the airlock repressurized.

The boom of the ship’s cannons shook through the bulkheads. Tag watched the violent blasts of energy rounds and kinetic rounds punch holes through the vessel.

Orange beads of fire from the PDCs opened up next, appearing like fiery whips as the rounds tore into the sides of the stealth ship. Jets of blue plasma sprayed from its sides.

The airlock opened, and the marines began filing out. Tag followed, glancing back at the porthole for a second. An unholy flower of white light bloomed from the enemy ship, devouring what was left of the hull.

“Hold on to something!” Sofia’s voice barked over the comms.

Tag grabbed the nearest handhold, and Alpha’s fingers crunched into the lip of the hatch. The Argo shot away, escaping the spreading cloud of molten shrapnel.

Once the inertial dampeners caught up to Sofia’s maneuver, Tag let go and started jogging through the cargo bay toward the bridge.

He paused at the ladders to the upper decks. “Good work, marines. Take a breather, but get your gear back in order. Get the air car ready, too. Looks like we might be headed planetside.”

Bull gave a brisk salute and turned toward Gorenado, Lonestar, and Sumo. Immediately, the group began gathering fresh battery cartridges and magazines for the weapons.

“Alpha, let’s go load everything up onto the Argo’s systems,” he said. “We need to see who called that SOS.”

“Aye, Commander,” Alpha said. Her metal feet clanged over the decks until they made it back to the bridge.

Coren’s focus remained stalwartly on his station, his fingers moving as deftly as a concert pianist’s over his terminal. The station was his instrument, and the ordnance blasting from the ship was his music. A symphony of destruction tore into the enemy ranks.

Sofia applied an extra boost of human creativity where the ship’s innate AI systems could not, dodging incoming fire and sliding between enemy ships, disrupting their formations. Across the interstellar battlefield, the other destroyers in Tag’s strike group launched volley after volley. Fighters flocked in waves, lashing out at the previously concealed stealth ships.

One by one, each of those stealth ships turned to blooming spheres of debris. Their shields still concealed them visually, making it look like the strike group was attacking ghosts. But their locations were perfectly clear on the holomap at the center of the Argo’s bridge and on the bridges of the other ships.

Tag’s fingers curled around the armrests of his crash couch as he watched the scene unfold. Everything seemed to be operating on autopilot now, and he could finally catch his breath. They had finally taken control of the battle, driving their heels into the Starinski ships, spreading their broken remains across the vacuum.

“We have a solid advantage, Commander,” Hibino’s voice came over the comms. “Damage to the Grand Fury has been contained.”

“Destroyers, report,” Tag said.

“Slight pressure loss, but fusion generators remain at ninety-five percent,” Singh said.

“Cannon repairs already underway,” Cheung said.

Then Holland. “Lost some munitions during a cargo bay rupture. Full analysis imminent.”

Fighters shot in toward a surviving stealth ship, launching a stream of missiles. Its shield sparked and shuddered, rippling until it finally gave way to reveal a damaged ship. Even as chunks of the ship sprayed out of its mangled hull, lost with the sudden depressurization, the ship fought on. 

The crews were fighting like noble warriors, fighting like honor was more important than their lives. The ship was going down, but no escape pods shot away from it. It never tried to escape or blast away.

Still, unless something drastic happened, the strike group would win. Another Starinski vessel exploded and then another.

The destroyers remained undeniably dominant, bolstered by the insurmountable might of the carrier. By now, the crews of the stealth vessels had to know what was going on. They’d been made, and there was nothing left for them to do but pray to whatever gods they believed in.

Soon, Tag and his strike group would be victorious. It was just a matter of time.

But something in Tag’s gut didn’t sit right. It felt like a stone was resting in his stomach, something he couldn’t quite digest, and it wasn’t going anywhere, even as the enemy ships were going down. He counted six Starinski ships left.

All held the course, fighting as if they hadn’t lost nearly the whole of their fleet. Fighting even as their ships were dying.

Why?

If Tag was commanding them, he would have pulled back by now. Retreat from an unwinnable battle. All they were doing now was stalling the inevitable.

A ship scorched past them, wings of plasma thrashing from its side. It shed panels of its hull as it careened toward the Grand Fury. Coren sent a wave of energy rounds plunging through it, and the vessel erupted even as its cannons pumped return fire at the Argo. Sofia kept the ship moving, deftly avoiding the incoming rounds. A second later, the Starinski ship was nothing more than slagged alloy.

And still the remaining ships were not letting up. Instead of zipping away, jumping into hyperspace, they were continuing the fight. Prolonging it when they knew it was already over for them.

Tag wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“What gives?” Sofia asked. “These guys aren’t giving up.”

“Every modern space warfare theory suggests they should be routing and regrouping,” Alpha said. “They are operating against normal human strategies of self-preservation, unless they are intentionally suicidal.”

“I doubt it,” Coren said. He paused a moment, focusing on launching another wave of charged plasma shots. “I may not have spent my life around humans, but it’s pretty clear they aren’t acting normal.”

“They appeared human when we invaded their ship,” Alpha said.

“Drone-humans, maybe,” Tag said, hating the taste of the words in his mouth. “Damn it, that’s got to be it.”

“Even so, they’d be more valuable to the Collectors alive, right?” Sofia asked.

Alpha tapped on the terminal, monitoring the energy shields. “Much like the scientist Hannah Baker we encountered on Orthod, these people could very well be convinced they are the ones fighting for the right side. They may be zealots, religious fanatics intent on destroying us at all costs.”

“Whatever’s going on here, these people don’t want us to leave this part of the solar system,” Tag said, realization dawning. “They’re trying to stall us. Alpha, locate the origin of that SOS signal.”

Alpha’s metallic fingers worked across the terminal. “It’s done.”

A red sphere glowed on the holomap.

“Set a course toward the signal,” Tag said. Then he spoke over the intership comms. “Strike Group Argo, set a course for the SOS signal we’re transmitting now. Execute immediately.”

“Abandon the fight?” Holland asked, shock evident in her voice.

“I have a feeling the fight will follow us,” Tag said.

He got back affirmatives from the other captains, though Cheung did not sound particularly enthusiastic. He understood why. They were running from a battle they had every right to win.

“Full speed ahead,” Tag said.

“Aye, Skipper,” Sofia said, pushing forward on the controls.

The ship jolted forward, pressing Tag into his crash couch. The destroyers maintained speed in formation with the Argo, and as soon as the last fighter slipped into the carrier’s bays, the Grand Fury caught up.

As Tag had predicted, the remaining Starinski ships pursued them. No captain in their right mind would try to provoke a battle with the odds so stacked against them. One stealth ship accelerated, charging straight toward the carrier like it was going for a ramming maneuver.

“Target that suicidal ship,” Tag said.

Coren adjusted his aim. He set the energy cannons to charge. The bulkheads shook as the cannons built up a relentless storm of power. When the humming grew loud enough to drown out the roar of the grav impellers and the stressed fusion reactors, Coren fired.

A column of concentrated green light lanced from the Argo and punched straight through the offending Starinski ship. For a moment, the ship continued onward. Then explosions ripped through the hull. The ship fell apart, momentum carrying its fragmented corpse.

Two more Starinski ships shared similar fates, buried by a barrage of gunfire from the racing destroyers.

“Contacts?” Tag asked over the comms.

“Negative,” Singh said.

“I’m not seeing anything but scrap metal,” Holland added.

Cheung and Hibino responded similarly. That was it. The battle was over. But Tag’s gut still didn’t unclench. Something much worse would be waiting for them when they reached that planet. He was sure of it.

“SOS signal is still transmitting,” Alpha said. “But lidar and radar reads are not showing anything.”

“Wait until we get around their sun,” Tag said. “It may be screwing with our systems.”

He wasn’t sure whether that was true or not. But that was what he wanted to believe.

“Prepare for engagement,” Tag said to the other captains. “All weapons hot and energy shields up.”

The blinding light of the sun flared over the viewscreen, casting the whole bridge in its warm glow. They looped around it in a matter of minutes, and the viewscreen settled. Tag expected to see a ship on the other side of the alien star. Maybe even a fleet of Collector or Starinski vessels.

But instead he saw nothing. Pure blackness studded by distant stars. Not even a single planet.

“Why were those ships trying to distract us?” Sofia said. “There’s nothing here to protect.”

“I am still getting a read on the SOS,” Alpha said.

“We’re missing something,” Tag said. “Continue toward the signal.”

They pushed toward what looked like just another stretch of nothingness.

Until, suddenly, it wasn’t.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Alpha, is this real?” Tag asked. “Are we actually seeing what I think we’re seeing?”

“I do not detect any issues with our sensor arrays. Lidar and radar are functioning as normal,” she replied.

“What is that?” Cheung asked over the comms.

“And what just happened?” Holland demanded.

“We don’t know yet,” Tag said. “Cut speed and follow me. Alpha, keep shields up. Sofia, fifty percent speed. Coren, maintain cannon charge.”

The holomap was now filled with a litany of flashing spheres marking hostile forces. From what Tag could tell, they had entered some kind of... alternate space. The blackness they had seen before had been replaced by a scene of carnage, as if it had all magically appeared the second they had passed some invisible threshold. Spaceships like the Starinski vessels they had just fought floated listless, trails of cargo and bodies leaking from them like the entrails of dying beasts. There were other alien ships, ones Tag vaguely recognized from his previous missions. A few were completely unfamiliar to him.

“Alpha, can you identify any of those ships?” Tag asked as they drifted by the wrecked vessels.

Back on the Hope, they had encountered a plethora of ships from species collected from disparate galaxies and welded together in a Frankensteinian space station. The data they retrieved had proved to be a treasure trove, and Tag hoped that it would once again offer them an insight or two.

“I have identified human ships in the immediate vicinity, along with Drone-Mechs,” Alpha said. A tap of her finger labeled the respective vessels on the holomap. “However, these other ships are from a species we do not have in our data stores.”

The unidentified ships were angular and golden, nearly translucent, so that the network of corridors and chambers worming through them were visible. They looked like giant, jagged crystals that had somehow been made spaceworthy. Cracks fissured through most of them, and long singe marks scarred their hulls.

“Whoever these people are, the Collectors don’t seem to like them,” Sofia said.

Alpha replied, “They appear to be warring with the Collectors.”

Sofia didn’t bother to clarify that that much was obvious. She focused instead on navigating through the broken hulls and the meteor-like pieces of the crystalline ships tearing toward them. The battle might have been over, but the debris was still shooting through space on momentum alone with no atmosphere to slow it down.

The energy shields of the destroyers and carriers lit up each time a piece of space flotsam impacted them, rippling with green waves of energy. They could not nimbly navigate through the wreckage like the Argo could.

“Why was all this hidden?” Tag asked. “Why couldn’t we see it until we got close?”

“Stealth tech,” Coren answered. “It’s the same technology we have on our Mechanic stealth ships. In fact, it’s the same tech the Collectors stole and gave to Starinski for their stealth ships. Only this is taking that technology to an extreme. From those SOS signals Alpha translated, it’s so strong it even attenuates comms.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but even you geniuses from Meck’ara haven’t mastered a sensor shield like the one we seem to have crossed,” Sofia said.

“That is completely accurate,” Coren replied. “The power it would take to generate this kind of concealment field is... it’s simply unfathomable.”

“I can calculate the exact amount of energy required, if that is desirable,” Alpha said.

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary,” Tag said. “Is this Collector technology, then?”

Sofia twisted the Argo hard to their port to avoid a crystalline ship flipping end over end. Sunlight permeated the vessel, making it look like it was one big tongue of fire. Tag tried to look for bodies within the ship, but he saw nothing.

Strange.

“Commander, we’re getting a better read on the SOS,” Alpha said. “It is still actively transmitting, but I cannot visualize an actual source.”

“Three hells, this place is like an onion, isn’t it?” Sofia said.

“An onion?” Coren asked. “Is that some kind of weapon?”

Alpha was only too happy to provide an answer. “An onion is a vegetable commonly used in human food. It—”

“It’s got layers,” Tag said. “You can peel them back one after the other.”

Coren’s single golden eye widened. “I understand now. The concealment isn’t just a single active shield. It gets more powerful the closer we get to its core.”

“Judging by the perceived power gradient of this concealment shield, its core is precisely where the SOS is emanating from,” Alpha said.

Coren activated the PDC, and a sudden string of orange rounds whipped out against the monstrous hull of a Drone-Mech dreadnaught. He used their weapons to bore a hole straight through the vessel. Sofia jockeyed with the controls as the energy shields and their hull dragged against some of the melted bulkheads inside the huge vessel until they made it to the other side.

“Times like this, I wish we had the Melarrey’s matter transmutation tech,” Sofia said. “Would make navigating this wreckage far easier.”

“Alpha, you haven’t gotten any word from them or the Mechanics, have you?” Tag asked.

“No,” Alpha said. “But as Coren indicated, the concealment field appears to be interfering with our grav wave communications system.”

“Strike Group Argo, we’ve entered a concealment shield unlike any we have seen before,” Tag said over the comms. “It’s more powerful than anything Starinski or the Drone-Mech ships have used before. For all we know, it may not even be Collector technology. Advise caution.”

The sheer number of dead ships they passed filled Tag with the cold drip of dread.

“What do the Collectors want out here?” Tag mused.

“Once again, we’re looking at complete slaughter,” Sofia said. “And for what? How many lives need to be lost before they’re satisfied?”

Coren spoke with a slight hiss, as if he was forcing the words through clenched teeth. “Do you see any dead Collectors’ ships?”

“Negative,” Alpha said.

“Exactly,” Coren replied. “The loss of life is nothing to the Collectors if it isn’t their lives. They would bend entire civilizations to their wills. They’ve brought genocide and enslavement to countless races across the galaxies. It should come to no surprise that they would send those people into war against this race here too.”

The Mechanic was livid, and Tag didn’t blame him. His species had nearly gone extinct at the Collectors’ hands.

“I don’t completely disagree,” Tag said. “But even the Collectors wouldn’t waste resources like this if it weren’t worth the effort. After all, if they’re going to sacrifice a pawn or two, they’re doing it for their own benefit.”

“This is more than a pawn or two,” Coren said.

“Either way, if the Collectors want something here, if that’s what this SOS is about, we cannot let them have it,” Tag said.

“Our mission isn’t to destroy the Collectors,” Sofia reminded him.

“You’re right. This is primarily an intelligence-gathering mission. But if we have an opportunity to stop the Collectors’ conquest, we have to take it. We may not have a chance like this again.”

“You’re the boss, Skipper.”

“Just keep us in the air, and we’ll be okay.”

Tag wondered what they would find as they delved deeper into the concealment shields. They had already lost two squadrons of fighters. Was the intel buried in this corner of space worth the cost? What if all they discovered was a hundred powerful energy cannons firing in their direction?

“Commander,” Alpha said, breaking Tag from his thoughts. “I find it strange that the SOS signal is piercing the concealment shield even when our grav wave comms cannot.”

“If I were to guess, it’s because the people who are transmitting that SOS are also the ones responsible for the concealment shield,” Tag said.

“Maybe that’s it,” Coren said, fingers tightened around the weapon controls. “Has to be.”

“What?” Sofia asked.

“The Collectors want this technology, whatever it is. The concealment shield was undoubtedly designed to stop any other race from finding these people. They must have all manners of tech that would aid the Collectors’ campaign.”

“Or maybe they’re just afraid of outsiders,” Tag said. “This concealment tech might be their only crowning achievement. The Imoogi back on Orthod were isolationists. They retreated to the depths of Orthod’s oceans so they wouldn’t be found.”

“Could be,” Sofia said. “Either way, it’s pretty damn clear they’re no friend of the Collectors. And you know what they say about the enemy of our enemy.”

Tag could only hope she was right. Otherwise, he was leading the entire strike group into another trap.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Hibino, deploy one flight of fighters,” Tag said. “Stream their cam feeds and send them to investigate.”

“Wilco,” Hibino replied.

“Everyone else, full stop and hold,” Tag said.

Sofia shifted down the Argo’s grav impellers, and the ship decelerated, floating amid the vast stretch of darkness. No more than a hundred klicks on either side were the other destroyers and the carrier, waiting like leviathans in a dark sea.

One of the Grand Fury’s fighter bays opened. The interior was bathed in red battle lights. It disgorged five fighters small enough to be nearly invisible to the naked eye. Their grav impellers glowed blue as they zipped away, shooting ahead toward where the SOS signal was being transmitted.

“Incoming vid stream,” Alpha said.

“Play it over the main holo,” Tag said.

In the middle of the bridge, a holographic view of Major Tibalt, the Eagle squadron’s leader, appeared. It didn’t look much different from the images showing on the Argo’s own viewscreen. Vast stretches of blackness. Enough emptiness to make it appear as though nothing existed on this side of the solar system.

“Command, Eagle One,” Tibalt’s voice came over the comms. “Following SOS vector. No contacts in sight.”

“Copy, Eagle One,” Tag said as calmly as he could. Each passing second, he expected a chaotic scene of destruction to bloom over Tibalt’s vidstream.

Instead, the opposite happened.

The fighters advanced until the vidstream suddenly went dark. Their blips on the holomap, too, disappeared.

“Eagle One, do you copy?” Tag asked.

Silence.

Tag’s heart pounded. They were nowhere in the viewscreen. Nowhere on the holomap.

“Eagle One, do you copy?” Tag tried again.

If this concealment shield could inhibit grav wave communications, it stood to reason that their lightbeam network would be disrupted, too. He had expected it, and all the same, the tightening knot squeezing on his insides wouldn’t let go.

“Contact lost with Eagle One,” Hibino reported.

Tag bit back a retort. He needed to hold it together.

All they could do was wait.

Each second ticked by with the weight of a hundred moons hanging over Tag’s head. Had he sent these people straight into another suicide mission? If they didn’t return, then what? Send in another flight? Or maybe a destroyer?

No, if the squadron didn’t return, then Tag would go after them himself. He knew better than any of them what the Collectors were like.

“Sofia, prime the engines,” Tag said when another minute passed. “Alpha, bring energy shields back up to one hundred percent. Prepare to overcharge them. If that flight doesn’t return, we’re going in.”

Tag watched his wrist terminal. Another thirty seconds. Another minute. Two.

“Sofia, take us—”

A comet suddenly blazed across the viewscreen.

“Alpha, what is that?” Tag asked.

The comet glowed a fiery orange, but as Alpha magnified the viewscreen, the sharp edges of one of the fighters grew clear. The ship looked like it was on fire. But fire didn’t burn in the vacuum of space. The glow was coming from inside the vessel.

Tag’s stomach twisted. The image was close enough that he could see the pilot trying to engage the emergency release. But the cockpit had been welded shut by what must have been incoming fire.

Hibino immediately activated an emergency intercept flight of five more fighters that blasted out of the bay to meet the burning fighter. They used grav tethers to guide the vessel back into the Grand Fury.

Seconds later three more Eagle fighters pushed through the concealment shield. They all appeared in better shape than the first, but the fifth fighter was nowhere to be seen.

“Eagle One, report,” Tag said.

Tibalt’s voice came over the comms, nearly breathless. “Enemy contacts... sending vid now... We lost Reynolds.”

“Thank you, Major,” Tag said. “I’m sorry to hear about Reynolds.”

The day’s casualties continued to pile up, a stack of bodies in the back of Tag’s mind. One day, maybe soon, it would be too much to bear. For now, he tried to ignore the burgeoning guilt threatening to sabotage his mission.

“Alpha, put up that vid from Eagle,” Tag said.

The holo at the center of the bridge was replaced in a flash of light. Once again, the stream showed what Tibalt had seen through his viewscreen. The battlefield of debris they had waded through before was a light snow compared to what was now an avalanche. Broken and charcoaled ships pirouetted in a storm of spreading debris.

Tibalt’s vid took them past more of the golden, crystal-like ships and a veritable wall of human and Drone-Mech vessels. Beyond them were other ships that Tag didn’t recognize.

“Any idea who those belong to?” Tag asked Alpha.

“Negative,” she said. “They do not match anything in our databases.”

“You think they’re allies of the Collectors or on the side of whoever is sending out that SOS?” Sofia asked.

“It is very difficult to tell,” Alpha said. “But judging by the formation of these ships interspersed among known Collector vessels, I would say they likely belong to the side of the Collectors.”

The field of devastation grew until Tag saw something that drew his breath away. They had finally identified where the SOS signal was coming from. An enormous golden planet glowed in the middle of the holo. It looked almost as if it was constructed from the same materials as the crystalline vessels.

Tibalt’s vid stream took them closer to the planet, where a hulking Collector colonization ship orbited. The ship was large enough to be the golden planet’s moon. From it, destroyers and other vessels emerged like a swarm of Dreg flying toward carrion.

“It looks like whoever is on that planet hasn’t given up yet,” Sofia said.

Missiles and orbiting planetary defense systems sent waves of fire into the Collectors’ ranks. Crystalline ships seemed to appear out of nowhere, attacking the Collectors then vanishing again, even faster than the stealth ships had. They struck like lightning, gone as quickly as they had appeared, leaving Collector vessels bursting apart in waves of exploding plasma.

“Look at what their ships are doing,” Alpha said. “They are capable of translating their spatial presence in a fraction of a second.”

“They must have developed some kind of matter translation tech,” Coren said. “By the machine...”

But while these crystalline vessels had an evident technological advantage, they could not make up for the sheer number of Collector-allied ships raining down on them. Even though those golden vessels could appear at random, they had to stick around long enough to unleash their payload. It gave the Collectors just enough time to level a wall of fire at them. Tag looked on in horror as, time after time, the Collectors were luckier than the crystalline ships. He truly had no idea if these people would be allies of his or not, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for them.

Then the vid from Eagle One took them closer to the colonization ship. There Tag saw something that gave him hope.

The Collector rotated slowly on its axis, revealing another side. Chunks of the vessel were missing. Tongues of plasma jutted from broken armor panels.

“It appears this unidentified species is fighting back valiantly,” Alpha said. “While we are lacking a great deal of data, I estimate there is approximately a ten percent chance they will proceed victoriously from this engagement.”

“You think we could improve those odds if we went in?” Coren asked.

“That assumes these people want us on their side,” Sofia said. “We have no way of knowing.”

“They sent out an SOS,” Coren said.

“Could be a trap,” Tag said. “After all, we don’t know for certain they sent it. Might’ve been the Collectors.”

“Why would the Collectors do that?” Coren asked.

“Draw in any reinforcements in the area so they can finish them all off at once,” Sofia answered.

“Both scenarios are plausible,” Alpha said. “I cannot draw an inference over which may be more likely.”

Tag waited a beat, watching the vid continue. A handful of smaller craft peeled off from the main contingent of Collector forces. The vessels launched a volley of rockets and lasers, and the vid went wild as Tibalt pulled stomach-dropping evasive maneuvers. Tag had a hard time tracking what exactly happened during those few seconds that the dogfight continued. One of the Eagle fighters was hit by a missile, instantly vaporized. Voices from the remaining fighter pilots screamed out, filling the comms.

Tibalt pulled a barrel roll then sliced hard to his left. For a moment, the view cut back to the colonization ship and then panned across the planet. The enemy fighters came in for another strafing run, pulse rounds spinning toward Tibalt. Then something caught one of the fighters’ flanks, and it erupted, fragments of the craft spreading every direction. A flash of sapphire bloomed across the holo before Tibalt called the retreat, and the Eagle squadron raced back toward the edges of the concealment shield.

It was hard to believe that all this insanity had happened right in front of the Argo, and yet they couldn’t see it thanks to that concealment shield. His first instinct was to consult with the captains of the strike group. See what they think would be best. Take their opinions into account and derive a new plan of action.

But time was not on their side. At least, it wasn’t on the side of the people down on that planet, whether they were responsible for the SOS signal or not.

“Alpha, rewind the vid,” he said.

He had her pause it right when the Collector fighter was exploding. Inching through the vid frame-by-frame, he saw the ordnance that had sent the fighter to oblivion. An almost bubble-like round had surrounded and crushed the craft in a fraction of a second. He knew exactly who used that type of weapon, and when the vessel responsible made it into the frame for only a second, there was no denying it.

“That’s... that’s a Melarrey ship,” Sofia said, seeing it too.

“Did Jaroon and Bracken enter the concealment shield?” Tag asked. “Is that why they didn’t respond to our comms?”

Alpha’s fingers tapped across her terminal. “I’m sifting through the communications data that Tibalt sent us. It appears that the Melarrey ship did try to hail him, but he did not respond. I assume his comms were not properly synced like the Argo for interspecies comms.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty typical for fighters,” Sofia said. “Not exactly their job to be geared up to communicate outside our fleet.”

“Can you translate the signal so we can hear it then?” Tag asked.

“Completed,” Alpha said. She poked a button on her terminal.

“SRE fighters, this is Captain Jaroon of the Crucible, a Melarrey designated vessel. Do you read? SRE fighters, do you read? Please, respond. Requesting assistance. Mechanic ship Stalwart has been downed responding to SOS planetside. We repeat, we are requesting assistance.”

“Bracken and Jaroon made it,” Coren said, pushing against the restraints of his crash couch. “They’re mired in that mess!”

“Three hells, if we go in there now, it could be suicide,” Sofia said. “But we can’t let them die.”

“I do not understand why they went in or why they stayed in,” Alpha said. “This is contrary to their orders and expected course of action. Perhaps this is some kind of elaborate trap?”

Tag weighed the options. But he had already known what he was going to do before the crew had voiced their concerns. There was no going back now.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Strike Group Argo, we’re going in,” Tag said. “Confirmed sighting of Melarrey vessel Crucible and Mechanic vessel Stalwart. We will mark friendlies as soon as we enter. Do not fire on them. Avoid firing at the unidentified crystalline ships as well. Alpha will send new ally/enemy targeting protocols once we breach the concealment shield.”

“Commander, are we to assume those crystal ships are friendly?” Singh asked.

“I’d feel safer just taking them down,” Cheung said.

“I don’t want to eliminate any potential allies just because they’re different than us,” Tag said. “We’re not the Collectors. We’ll assume they’re friendly until they prove us wrong.”

“I just hope that, when they prove us wrong, it won’t be too late,” Holland said.

“Follow my lead, and we’ll be okay,” Tag said. “Overcharge all shields. You all saw the warzone we’re about to enter.”

“That much was very clear from Major Tibalt’s data,” Hibino said. “Do we have a target?”

“We will first rendezvous with the Crucible. Should we need to retreat or if our comms fail for any reason, we will reconvene here.”

The Argo led the strike group into the concealment shield. As soon as they reached the right threshold, the same scenes he had seen on Major Tibalt’s vid appeared on their viewscreen. Dozens upon dozens of ships struggling in combat. Enemy fighters raced by closely enough that Tag could see their formation as they chased a crystalline ship that was flitting in and out of existence.

He might as well have brought a pulse pistol to a nuclear war. There was no way their single strike group could tip the scales of this battle through sheer force alone.

But that wasn’t his goal. At least, not yet.

“Crucible, this is the SRE Argo. Do you read?” Tag asked over the comms.

Sofia jerked them in a vertical direction, avoiding stray laser fire. Coren kept the PDCs rocking at a few stray missiles that seemed to have locked on to them.  The destroyers followed suit, avoiding an aggressive engagement while keeping the fringes of the battle from overtaking them.

“Commander Brewer,” Jaroon’s voice came back. “We are in desperate need of your help.”

“We need to know what’s going on,” Tag said. “Fast.”

PDC fire caught a ballistic torpedo.

“Bracken and I arrived not long ago. We ran into those stealth ships and tried to buy time. But things got worse. We got chased into these strange shields, drawn into battle before we could escape. Those golden ships hailed us asking for assistance. They claimed to be enemies of the Collectors. This might be their last stand.”

“And you went in instead of drawing back?” Tag asked. Jaroon and Bracken had disobeyed the agreed-upon plan. They’d risked the entire mission engaging too early.

“I did,” Jaroon said. “The fault is mine. Maybe I was blinded by the near extinction of my own people, but I could not let the Collectors take another race. I could not let them, Commander.”

Tag understood, but it didn’t improve their situation. “Where is Bracken?”

“They responded to the SOS, which I assume drew you here as well,” Jaroon said.

“It did. Where are the Mechanics?”

“They’re still planetside.”

“Three hells,” Tag said. “I want to save Bracken. She would do the same for us. But I don’t see how we can get past all of that.”

The battle seemed to be largely contained to a thousand-or-so-klicks-radius from the planet, according to the holomap. The real fight wasn’t taking place near Tag’s position yet. He could still order a retreat.

“Commander, I am detecting Collector movement headed in our direction,” Alpha said. A swipe of her metallic hand yielded a swarm of fighters coupled with a pair of cruisers highlighted on the holomap, all barreling toward the strike group’s position.

“We don’t have time to deal with them,” Jaroon said. “We’ve got to get planetside.”

The cruisers and fighters were quickly advancing. They would be on the strike group in less than a minute.

“There’s no way we’re going to get our strike group through that,” Sofia said.

The holomap was filled with a storm of blips as the battle raged on. Sofia was right. The strike group wouldn’t make it through there. Even if they escaped the fighters and cruisers headed toward them, they would be shredded in the battle raging around the planet.

Tag recalled their time on the UNS Hope, scouring the ship-turned-space-station for clues to the identity of the Collectors. Back then, they had been so focused on finding the nightmarish Collectors that they had nearly fallen prey to both the flying slug-like Dreg and the rampant scorpioid creatures that roamed the corridors. Both bug-like species were nothing more than a nuisance compared to the firepower the SRE wielded, but if you ignored them for too long, if you underestimated their strength, they could overwhelm and kill you.

Some of the deadliest creatures in this galaxy were like that. The Forynth on Eta-Five were a primitive-seeming race but could kill a man with a single slash of the blades at the end of their tentacles. But it was easy to forget the Forynth if you were trying to outrun one of the monstrous Ice Gods that called the frigid landscape home.

It reminded him of words his father had once told him: “Focus too long on the giants, and you will be devoured by the ants.”

The solution was simple. Today, they would be the ants.

“Captain Hibino,” Tag said. “Command of the spaceborne strike group is yours until I return. The Argo is going planetside with the Crucible.”

“Understood,” Hibino replied.

“Minimize engagements with the enemy. Let these crystal ships do the brunt of the work.” Then he opened the channel with the Crucible again. “Jaroon, give us the last known coordinates of the Stalwart.”

The location appeared on the holomap, a glowing dot on the planet.

“Sofia,” Tag said.

She nodded, and the Argo accelerated, pressing Tag against his crash couch. He felt the restraints dig in as she pushed the ship to its limits, bulkheads and hull tremoring. Grav impellers pushed them through the wrecked ships as the cruisers and fighters drew near. Hibino deployed several squadrons that rushed to meet the incoming craft. The destroyers began pummeling the incoming Collector ships with kinetic rounds that punched through their hulls, impacting with swirls of escaping gas.

The Argo put all that behind them as Sofia skirted next to a larger Drone-Mech dreadnaught that was stalled in space, its engines and weapons no longer working. They used its bulk as cover. Soon they spotted the familiar, swanlike form of the sapphire Crucible.

“Jaroon, when I give the word, I want you to envelop us with your matter transmutation shield,” Tag said. “Just like we did in that asteroid field outside the UNS Hope.”

“Our power to do that is limited. Perhaps twenty seconds.”

“That should be enough. I just want to get through the blockade around that planet unimpeded.”

“We can do that, Commander.”

The golden planet loomed larger in the viewscreen, like a sun that had been frozen solid. A fighter tried to strafe the Argo, sending energy rounds glancing into their shields. Coren fired back, and one of the engines on the craft exploded, sending it into a deadly spiral.

Other vessels fired at them as they rocketed toward the planet, but the Collectors and the crystalline ships seemed far more interested in each other than the stray human and Melarrey ships zipping between their ranks.

The colonization ship grew larger in Tag’s viewscreen. The damage to the giant vessel was more evident now, like a moon that had been cleaved nearly in half by an asteroid.

But the view of the colonization ship didn’t last long.

“Now, Jaroon!”

“Engaging transmutation shields!” Jaroon said.

A bubble of shimmering blue stretched from the Crucible and over the Argo. They flew headlong into a dreadnaught. Instead of crashing in a furious explosion, their ships passed through the dreadnaught like ghosts. Tag could almost feel the heat of the dreadnaught’s interior. Its corridors and the Drone-Mechs stalking the halls within it looked as ephemeral to him as he must have appeared to them. A second later and they passed through another pair of ships.

“We cannot hold the shield much longer,” Jaroon said, his voice tremoring slightly, distorted like it was traveling through water.

“Release it,” Tag said.

They entered the atmosphere of the golden planet just as the transmutation shield collapsed.

“Alpha, see if you can ping the Stalwart’s location now,” Tag said.

“Locating,” Alpha said, surveying her terminal.

“Stalwart, this is the SRE Argo. Do you read?” Tag tried over the comms.

“Brewer!” The line crackled. Tag recognized the voice of Bracken. “We need immediate assistance! We’re being attacked!”

“Drone-Mechs? Humans?” Tag asked.

“Something else!” Bracken said. A grainy image flashed over their bridge. It first showed Bracken standing next to a few Mechanics in their EVA suits. The view swiveled, the image going black and white before focusing on something kicking up a cloud of dust. Then the image cleared. It showed a squad of four-meter-tall, two-legged mechanized walkers equipped with heavy lasers. All appeared to be made of the same crystalline-looking material as the ships they had seen on their journey there. The walkers advanced in fits and spurts, disappearing and then reappearing, continuing their sprint toward Bracken.

All the while, they launched a volley of rockets and rounds that punched into the landscape in front of the downed Stalwart.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Tag wasn’t sure yet what kind of firepower those walkers packed, and he wasn’t sure of the exact condition of the Stalwart. The one thing he was sure about was that he needed to get to Bracken’s side in a hurry.

From space, the planet’s surface had looked like a glob of molten gold. Now the view was another story entirely, almost as if the concealment shield had altered their visuals on the planet until they were finally only a few thousand meters above. They scorched through the sky over the pyramidal, terraced buildings comprising cities. Most were smoking or littered with craters, forces clashing in the streets.

Canyons filled with azure waters and mountainous landscapes flashed beneath them. Giant columns made of that same golden material stabbed up at the sky. Whether they were natural or alien-made, Tag couldn’t tell. They passed openings in the planet that looked like the mouths of giant beasts and waterfalls that could enchant a person with their gargantuan beauty, making them forget anything else in life mattered.

All of this was being destroyed, ravaged by the battle between the Collectors and these people, whoever they were.

“Closing in on the Stalwart’s position,” Alpha reported.

“Bull, make ready for possible insertion,” Tag said over the channel.

“Yes, Commander.”

Soon the horizon yielded tendrils of smoke rising into the orange-hued sky. The Stalwart was propped sideways behind a long canyon of rock. Fingers of golden stalactites pushed up around it like a prison. Next to the ship were the tiny forms of the Mechanics in firing positions. They shot round after round into the advancing walkers, but the towering robotic weapons vanished before any significant harm could come to them. Whenever they reappeared again, they unloaded a volley of rounds that fissured the rocky cover around the Mechanics.

Like lightning, they blinked out of existence then bloomed into a new position. Firing and disappearing, over and over.

Already a few of the Mechanics were scattered unmoving around the Stalwart. Tag’s heart hammered when he saw another volley of fire turn a Mechanic into a fine spray of red mist.

“Coren, open fire on those walkers,” Tag said.

A corkscrew of PDC fire plummeted toward the first walker, followed by two beams of pulsefire. The rounds cut into the ground, sending up a shockwave of dust.

But a half-second later, the walker appeared nearly a dozen meters from the smoking crater, apparently unscathed.

Coren fired again, trying to catch the lead walker in his sights. Once again, he was met with the same result. Nothing but scorched earth.

“Every time I get a bead on them, they disappear,” Coren said.

The current targeting paradigm wasn’t going to work. In his mind, Tag could already see the remaining Mechanics shredded by the walkers closing in on them. They could do nothing in close range like that, clearly outgunned, outclassed. It would be a full-scale slaughter.

Something had to change.

“Alpha, reprogram the targeting paradigm. Choose likely trajectories for the walkers, and auto-aim toward where they might appear,” Tag said.

“Yes, Commander.” A few tense seconds later, she spoke again. “The targeting algorithm has been altered.”

“Commence firing, Coren,” Tag said.

This time the weapons fired in front of the lead Mech. As soon as Coren began firing, the walker vanished. Beams of charged pulse rounds seared the air, followed up by a wild spray of PDC fire. The weapons appeared to be aimed at nothing but rock and dirt. Until a fraction of a second passed. The walker reappeared, and the weapons sliced into its hull. Fire bloomed from the impacts, and the walker toppled backward, its chest exploding outward in a mushroom cloud of orange and crimson.

A second explosion rocked the robotic weapon, and fire curled into the sky.

“Again, Coren,” Tag said.

The second and third walkers went down similarly. The last continued advancing but altered its trajectory. It became more unpredictable. Coren fired at multiple potential locations at once.

One round connected with the mech. It stumbled, and Coren used the manual controls of the PDC to riddle its flank with depleted uranium rounds. Dark holes punched through the mech, leaking clouds of gas and fluids. The machine toppled sideways, growing still.

“Good work,” Tag said. “Sofia, bring us down next to the Stalwart. Bull, open the airlock. Let the Mechanics in and assist in moving any injured.”

They descended toward the ship, the adjustment thrusters blowing waves of dust from their landing site. When they hit the ground with a resonating thud, Tag switched the bridge’s holo to a livestream view from Bull’s headset onto the bridge to monitor the extraction.

“Lonestar, Sumo, grab those two,” Bull ordered, pointing toward a pair of Mechanics holding their sides. “Gorenado, help me with these ones.”

The shaky image showed Bull charging between the scattered debris from the Stalwart toward the Mechanics’ ranks. A few of the Mechanics swayed, walking unsteadily toward the marines. Others leaned against chunks of bulkhead or rocks. Several clutched gaping wounds in their suits, blood dripping over their fingers.

“Thank you, Commander Brewer,” Bracken said over the comms, sounding weary. “We could not have held out much longer.”

She waved at Bull as she lugged one of her injured comrades toward the marines. Two more Mechanics followed Bracken, helping another limp along between them.

A flash of red burned toward one of the injured Mechanics. The alien went down, burned alloy puckering from his suit, screams of agony bleeding over the comms. Another Mechanic stood, bringing his pulse rifle to his shoulder. More rounds caught him, sending him tumbling backward.

“What’s going on?” Lonestar yelled.

Gorenado let go of the Mechanic he’d been helping and lugged his mini-Gauss up, firing rounds into an enemy out of Bull’s line of sight. Bull swiveled then, aiming back and forth. Flashes of yellow lightning were striking, drawing ever closer to them.

“What’s going on?” Tag asked. “Alpha, why’d we miss this? Coren, fire!”

Coren’s terminal glowed with the aiming reticules of the dorsal PDC as he adjusted the cannons, shooting into the oncoming soldiers.

“They’re too small,” Alpha said. “They evaded our sensors, coming in under the coverage of the wreckage from those mechanized units.”

Rounds slashed around the incoming soldiers, but hundreds of them suddenly flashing into existence around Tag. His father’s words echoed in his head.

You’ll be devoured by the ants.

His own strategy, coming back to bite him. As these people advanced, thundering toward the marines and Bracken’s wounded soldiers, Coren sent waves of fire into their ranks. But they proved to be harder targets than the lumbering walkers. And even as their bodies cartwheeled into the air, hit by direct shots from Coren, what they lacked in firepower, they made up for in pure numbers.

“Skipper, you know what these are?” Sofia’s voice rose, and she stood in her seat, the glow of the firing cannons reflecting through the viewscreen over her form. “The beings the Collectors warned us about. The ones that they saw invading the UNS Hope.”

Tag’s stomach twisted. The Collectors were animals. Responsible for genocide. But the beings that had provoked them down this path were the Luminals. People that Tag had only glimpsed in an old holo taken on the UNS Hope. The Luminals had appeared on the Hope, appearing as if they were angels sent by the gods. They had massacred half the crew aboard the Hope. Others that had survived the onslaught went crazy. Only a small fraction had lived with their minds and bodies intact.

That initial exposure to the Luminals, however brief and mysterious, had inspired the human crew of the Hope to venture down the path of conquering other species, aggressively pursuing all manner of engineering to rewire their own bodies and ships, entire planets, even, to suit themselves and to protect them against beings like the Luminals.

And now Tag feared Sofia was right. They had put themselves in between the Stalwart and what looked like those infamous creatures. These beings had not hesitated to kill hundreds of innocent humans for seemingly no purpose.

It turned out the enemy of his enemy was also his enemy.

“Son of a bitch,” Tag said. “Coren, unleash everything you have on that army. Take them—”

A flash of golden light sizzled across the bridge. Tag drew up a hand instinctively, trying to shield himself from the blinding glare. Blinking, he reached for his pulse pistol.

Something cold wrapped around his wrist, and he looked up. A massive body towered over him, all slender limbs and a face that seemed to morph into an unrecognizable mass the longer he looked at it. Eyes reappeared then vanished. A mouth opened and closed.

The being released its grasp on Tag’s wrist, and five more of the aliens flashed into existence around the bridge, securing Coren, Alpha, and Sofia before any of them could fire.

The Luminals were here.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Put down your weapons,” the Luminal nearest Tag said. Its voice seemed to come from every direction at once, echoing in Tag’s skull. “We mean you no harm.”

Behind the intruder, the viewscreen and the stream from Bull’s helmet still showed advancing Luminals sending waves of troops firing weapons at their position. Even now that small arms fire slammed against the hull of the Argo, most of it absorbed by the energy shields.

“No harm?” Tag asked. “What do you call that?”

He motioned to the viewscreen behind him then undid the restraints from his crash couch. The Luminal made no attempt to stop him, and Tag reached for his pistol. He whipped it out, aiming straight for the center of the Luminal’s mass. The being flickered like a light about to go out, shifting back and forth, giving Tag no clear target.

When the Luminal stopped, it was right beside Tag, holding a long blade that looked like frozen lightning across Tag’s throat.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have already,” the Luminal said. “Understand?”

Tag looked at Sofia. The eyes behind her visor were wide, and she shook her head slowly, warning Tag not to provoke this alien any further.

“We have entered the Melarrey vessel as well,” the Luminal explained. “We do not want you to continue fighting. We require something greater. But if you resist, we will have to take what we want by force.”

The boom of explosions still rocked outside, reverberating through the hull of the Argo. Dots on the holomap showing the ships spaceside streaked by each other, the war unfolding as Tag was held hostage in his own bridge. How many lives would be lost in these wasted seconds? He needed some way to escape, but he was at the Luminals’ mercy, just like the predecessors to the Collectors had been.

“What do you want from us?” Tag asked.

The Luminal nodded, and a second later more of its kind appeared across the battlefield, interspersed within the ranks of the Mechanics and the marines.

“What are these things?” Bull asked, voice echoing in the bridge. A Luminal appeared by him, waving a hand over his faceshield. Something seemed to immediately change in Bull. He twisted on his heels and faced the oncoming army, no longer concerned with the Luminals that had zoomed into existence around him.

Tag braced himself, waiting to watch the Luminals smear their unsuspecting victims across the dirt in trails of blood. Instead, they joined Tag’s allies, evidently exchanging a few words then immediately firing into the ranks of the oncoming army.

“We have installed tracking software in your marines’ suits so they can differentiate between our forces and the enemy,” the Luminal in the bridge said. Then it turned toward Coren. “We are like you. Susceptible to the nanites.” Its ethereal voice almost seemed to quake. “We’ve lost so many. We cannot lose any more. And we suspect you understand this desperation. You all responded to the SOS.”

“That wasn’t exactly what we came here for,” Tag said. “But yes, once we decoded your signal, we received your SOS.”

“Good. Your willingness to help is all we need.”

A Luminal vessel appeared above the enemy army. It unleashed a scattershot of bombs that drove into the ground with huge spurts of golden soil. A spiderweb of electricity emanated from each of those bombs, visible in a wave of bright sparks. All the attacking Drone-Luminals caught in those blasts froze in place, bodies going rigid. Other Luminals flashed into existence on the ground, scooping the paralyzed ones up into their arms before disappearing again.

“We have been trying to save as many of our own as possible,” the Luminal said. “We have tried to find a cure, but we’re afraid our time has run out. These post-humans have made that difficult.”

“It’s going to get more difficult if you don’t explain what in the three hells is going on,” Tag said. “This planet isn’t going to last the day if something doesn’t change. Even if you win this battle, the Collectors will be back. And I guarantee you won’t survive that.” Tag pointed up to the sky. “We’ve still got people out there, fighting against them, and I don’t want them to risk their lives any longer than necessary. So what do you need from us?”

“What do we need from you?” The Luminal’s eyes and mouth appeared again. Those eyes were dark as a black hole and the mouth a gateway to nothingness, but even in the Luminal’s exotic features, Tag could read its despair. “We need your help to reach our salvation.”

“I don’t follow,” Tag said.

The Luminal flickered in and out of existence, each time sparking closer to Tag until it was in his face. “We can win this battle today. We can push these people back.”

Then it disappeared again.

The lights in the bridge flashed, and Alpha jumped back as the holoprojector in the center of the bridge shot out a shower of sparks.

“The Luminal is accessing our internal servers,” Alpha cried.

Then the Luminal appeared again, in front of Tag. “Collectors. That’s what you call them. We will stop them together, then you and I will have a very long talk about how you plan to resurrect your Drone-Humans and Drone-Mechs. We share that goal, do we not?”

“That is certainly our goal,” Tag said. “Whether or not it’s yours, I can’t say.”

“Let me prove it to you.” The Luminal held out its long, glowing fingers. “You can call me Shor. I will lead you to the Citadel.”

The Luminal flickered again. Another shower of sparks, and a gigantic palace constructed of golden crystal appeared on the holo floating in the middle of the bridge. Ships encircled it. Explosions bloomed all around the structure, and ordnance lanced into the side of the Citadel. Showers of golden shards crashed to the ground where walkers and foot soldiers battled, bodies and machines clashing.

“Look around you, Shor,” Tag said. “This is my entire crew. And my allies are injured, their numbers weakened. Why would we risk everything to go in there? Especially after the aggression you’ve shown toward humans in the past?”

Shor flared brighter. “Aggression? You have much to learn about us and your own civilization’s past, but we don’t have time to discuss this now. Right now, you have a single choice to make. You can choose to help us, to presume us allies for the time being.”

Explosions boomed outside, shaking the Argo. The walkers and soldiers Shor had brought with it were struggling to hold back another influx of Drone-Luminals.

“Or you can presume us enemies. In which case, we will return the favor.”

Tag surveyed the other Luminals in the bridge. There was no way he could take them. A terrifying thought crossed his mind. What if the Collectors had been right all along? What if they had only been doing what was necessary to protect themselves and humanity from the Luminals?

Shor took another flickering step closer to Tag. The smell of ozone seemed to permeate Tag’s suit, as if the internals were burning up just being close to the strange alien.

“What is your decision, Captain Brewer?” it asked.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Another explosion resonated through the ground.

Tag wasn’t certain if he could trust these people, but he certainly didn’t trust the Collectors. At least, that was how he had felt until that tiny worm of doubt had dug itself into the back of his mind. Maybe the Collectors were right. Maybe these Luminals would try to stab him in the back later, but maybe they wouldn’t. Later was at least not now. It gave him time to figure a way out of this mess.

He could see looks of uncertainty pass between Sofia and Coren. But he didn’t have time to consult with them, as much as he wanted to.

“We’ll help you,” Tag said, biting back his own hesitation. “Or at least try. But how are we getting to the Citadel?”

“You’ll never make it in your human armor and vehicles,” Shor said.

“I could’ve told you that,” Coren said, sneering.

Shor ignored him and held up a finger. A moment later, more Luminals jolted into existence around Alpha, Sofia, and Coren. Through the holos streaming from the marines’ helmets onto the holos, Tag saw that Luminals had appeared in front of them as well.

Each of those Luminals held out their spindly hands, displaying a golden cube.

“Take these,” Shor said.

“And do what with them?” Tag asked.

Shor’s cavernous mouth twitched, almost as if he were smiling. “That is not for you to worry about.”

Tag worried anyway but took the cube between his finger and thumb. Tiny arcs of electricity coursed over the cube and danced over Tag’s gloved fingers. Then those miniature lightning bolts shimmered up his arms and around his chest. The cube seemed to melt into his EVA suit.

“What’s going on?” Sofia asked, her suit glowing.

Coren’s black suit had turned a similar golden hue. Alpha’s entire chassis burned like she’d been swallowed by the sun.

“Alpha?” Tag asked, unable to withhold the fear creeping into his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Captain,” she said, holding her arms out. “The Luminal cube is automatically altering the molecular structure of my chassis. I can feel the changes in my mind.”

“What is it doing?” Tag asked Shor, glaring at the Luminal.

“Giving you our powers,” Shor said. “It won’t harm you. And it is only temporary. Transitioning like we do costs enormous amounts of energy, which that cube will not sustain long-term. However, it will be just enough to get you to our Citadel.”

“How do we transition?” Tag asked.

“Again, do not worry about the science. All you do is think about the transition, the flicker, and the suit will do it for you. Do not overextend yourself, though. Do not try to jump ahead of us. If the bursts are too long, you will shatter your molecular structure.”

“What about Bracken’s crew?” Tag asked.

“We will take them all with us,” Shor said. “It is not safe here, not with the Drone-Luminals descending on this position.”

Another squad of enemy walkers appeared alongside the Stalwart, lobbing fire into the ship and the Luminal forces around it. Fires raged from one of the Stalwart’s thrusters and grav impellers. Smoke plumed from its open cargo hold.

“Quickly, we must move!” Shor said, flickering and then reappearing on the nose of the Argo, just outside the viewscreen.

The other Luminals vanished and reappeared beside him.

“How do we do this?” Sofia asked.

“You must think about where you want to go,” Alpha said. “Like you are jumping, except—”

She disappeared, and Tag’s heart hammered for a second. “Alpha!”

The synth-bio droid appeared again outside with the Luminals.

“This tech is even worse than a human’s,” Coren said. “Unpredictable and dangerous.”

Then he, too, vanished and burst back into existence outside the viewscreen, Coren stumbled when he reappeared and fell forward. Alpha lifted him to his feet. Sofia made the jump next.

Tag’s thoughts whirled. Across the landscape, more of the Luminal forces clashed. Incoming ordnance turned some into pillars of rising infernos, explosions filling the atmosphere. Stray rounds slammed into the Argo, shaking the ship.

Then he felt it. A slow tingling sensation rose through him, starting at his core and spreading to the tips of his fingers and toes. Enough heat enveloped him to let him know something was happening, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable.

In fact, the sensation that overcame his body reminded him of those seconds before the ship’s inertial dampeners kicked in, right when the Argo was launching itself into space.

The sounds of battle hit him first. Resounding through the air, his feet, his bones. Bright light flashed as pulse rounds and lasers seared the sky. The ground tremored with the quaking feet of an advancing walker as another ball of fire bloomed upward from the destruction.

Shor and the other Luminals surrounded Tag and his team, sending a wave of fire into their aggressors. He couldn’t tell the difference between their enemies and the supposedly friendly Luminals.

“Who in the three hells are we fighting?” Tag yelled at Shor.

“That should be clear... now.”

Shor pressed his wrist, and the HUD on Tag’s suit came alive in a flurry of colors.

“The firmware we installed in your suits allow us to connect with your systems,” Shor explained.

“You didn’t tell us they’d give you that kind of access,” Coren said.

Tag understood the Mechanic’s fury. What else could the Luminals do with that kind of unfettered access?

“Time for apologies later,” Shor said. “We need to move.”

Shor led them away from the Argo and over the battlefield, zipping around the enemy troops. Tag ran, looking back occasionally to see glimpses as the Drone-Luminals swallowed the Stalwart’s position. Their Luminal allies fought back for every centimeter of ground near the Argo.

Some of the Drone-Luminals split off from the main contingent of forces and gave chase. A fusillade of fire pounded around Tag like miniature lightning strikes. One of the friendly Luminals was hit. It let out an agonized scream as its body turned to ash.

Shor flitted ahead, and Tag followed, willing his body to disappear into the ether, only to reappear another twenty meters ahead. His legs seemed to twist over themselves as he tried to start running again, the jump throwing off his cadence. Alpha seemed to have no problem keeping in stride with the Luminals when they took another jump forward.

Again and again, they leapt and flickered, dodging out of blooming explosions or falling stalactites. Spires of the strange rock crumbled as Tag leapt ahead, starting to catch the hang of this running and jumping gait. He turned around briefly to see a cloud of dust and fire swallow the spot he’d just flickered away from.

“Do not look back,” Shor said. “Forward!”

As they disappeared and reappeared, taking flight over the battle-scarred landscape, other groups of Luminals descended on their positions. These ones were marked as allies. Among one group he saw Bull and the rest of the marines, taking to the Luminal’s technology as quickly as Alpha. Another group seemed to be escorting the Mechanics from Bracken’s crew.

“Look out!” one of the Luminals in Shor’s group called.

A barrage of rockets tore trails of gray smoke through the yellow sky. Tag leapt ahead with his crew, pumping his limbs as fast as he could. The rockets started to descend like a shower of meteors.

“Push your jumps to the limit!” Shor yelled.

Tag focused on leaping as far as he could. His body seemed to protest, as if the technology imbued into his suit knew better. But it was either death by those incoming rockets or his body giving out from pushing himself too hard.

He’d take his chances.

His mind focused on making a leap longer than any previously, pushing himself through the fabric of three-dimensional space. It felt as though his cells were tearing apart, every sinew in his body whipping free as the suit took over, the Luminals’ powers sparking through every molecule of his body with unbridled ferocity.

Then he flickered again. Safely out of range of the rockets, which slammed into the ground behind him. A concussive force rolled over him, carrying with it a wave of heat and rock. He nearly fell but caught himself. He was still alive. But was he the only one who had made it? He couldn’t see through the maelstrom of fire and smoke obscuring the world around him.

Alpha appeared next, followed by Coren. His heart hammered. The marines finally appeared close to them, no more than thirty meters away now.

“Sofia!” Tag yelled, looking at the cloud of dark smoke, embers floating in it.

“Here!” she called.

He didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he finally spotted her.

Not behind them but instead ahead of the group. Typical.

“Thank the gods,” he said as they continued bounding away.

But the more they jumped, the more he realized what pushing the Luminal tech had done to him. His head pounded. He felt a sticky wetness in his ears, and the taste of blood danced across his tongue.

Ahead he saw the flashes of battle over the Citadel. Fighters still circled overhead, and ground forces met in combat with violent ferocity.

“We can avoid all of that,” Shor said.

They flickered away again, the groups merging so Tag was running beside the marines and Mechanics now, all of them lunging for the promise of safety.

A massive explosion rippled into the sky above them, pillars of blue plasma punching into the sky.

“The Stalwart is gone,” Bracken said as she ran alongside him, no hint of emotion in her voice.

A pit formed in Tag’s stomach. He wondered how long it would be until the Drone-Luminals took out the Argo too, and he found himself stranded here with his crew on this strange planet.

“Grand Fury, Argo One here,” Tag called into his comms between leaps, nearly breathless. “How’s the situation up there?”

“We’re holding them back, but the Collectors aren’t letting up,” Hibino replied. “Their colony ship shits fighters faster than we can kill them.”

“Stay strong. We’ll stop this soon.”

Tag hoped he was right.

They continued, jumping ever closer to the Citadel. But Tag and his allies weren’t the only ones who had pushed themselves to their limits.

Through the smoke and fire behind them surged the Drone-Luminals, walkers, and all, bearing down on them. And with each leap Tag took forward, the enemy seemed to take two.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The enemy forces tore through the crater-pocked landscape and launched another fusillade. Allied Luminals vanished in a burst of fire. Others were caught by the fingers of electricity from the Drone-Luminals’ strange weapons, turning to ash, their cries haunting the comms.

“We’re not going to make it!” Coren yelled.

“Keep going,” Sofia said. “We have to make it!”

Alpha’s voice broke over the comms. “The odds are—”

“Just run, Alpha!” Tag yelled.

The marines turned and let loose with their mini-Gauss and pulse rifles, sending a meager rain of covering fire back into the enemy. The Luminal foot soldiers escorting the group launched their own weapons, blinding flashes of light blooming from the soldiers before they disappeared and reappeared.

A few Drone-Luminals went down.

“Hold your fire!” Shor yelled.

“We have no choice!” Tag yelled.

He knew the Luminal wanted to protect as many of its kind as possible. That the Drone-Luminals were nothing but slaves to the nanites, unwitting accomplices to the atrocities they were committing.

But if they didn’t defend themselves, if they spared the Drone-Luminals’ lives, the bastards would merely kill Tag, Shor, and the others. Then the Drone-Luminals would never be free, and the Collectors would reign victorious.

“Trust me,” Shor said. “Do not fire!”

The Luminal’s words pounded in Tag’s head like thunder. There was a fury there, like a sun going supernova, that Tag didn’t want to tempt.

“We have reinforcements incoming,” Shor said.

Tag didn’t see anyone running from the Citadel. No one was coming to their rescue. Nothing but fire and smoke lay ahead, raw carnage in a world torn asunder by its own people.

“Where are those damn reinforcements?” Bull roared, before flickering ahead.

“Focus on getting to the Citadel!” Shor bellowed.

The walkers drew closer, the Drone-Luminal foot soldiers flickering after them in waves. Then came a deafening crack, like the sky itself had split into two. A half-dozen egg-shaped vessels, each nearly a third the size of the Argo, sparked into existence.

Nearly a hundred Luminal ground troops in power armor appeared just behind Tag. They must have been deposited from those egg-shaped vessels. Arcs of electricity sizzled off their armor, and they launched a volley of fire into the enemy. Wherever their rounds hit, the enemy forces froze, paralyzed.

Another round of Luminal troops burst into existence around them. These ones used a second set of weapons that launched pulsing nets and tethers over the paralyzed troops. A moment later, all the paralyzed troops and the ones that had come to intercept them disappeared. Five of the egg-shaped vessels flickered away with them, leaving only one behind.

“Jump into that ship,” Shor said, before vanishing.

Tag and the others followed suit. A flash of gold, and Tag found himself in the belly of the egg ship, nearly a half-meter above the deck. Gravity tugged him back down. The marines and the rest of his crew appeared around him, each hitting the deck like he had, nearly tripping over themselves. The allied Luminals fell more gracefully, absorbing the landings.

“What is this this thing?” Lonestar said.

“Standard Lum-Transport,” Shor said. Its vacant eyes surveyed the ragtag group appearing around them. The Mechanics came next, with Bracken in the lead, followed by the others, both healthy and wounded. Those who were injured were wrapped in golden bands that held them in what looked to Tag like a comatose state, a stretcher of sorts based on the flicker technology.

Seats rose from panels in the deck, and the Luminals each found one. Tag followed their lead, backing into a seat. Two white arms unraveled from the chair and wrapped over his shoulders and chest.

Bull had his arms folded, standing in the middle of the deck.

“You will want to take a seat,” Shor said. “Otherwise you won’t like what happens when we jump.”

“You’re going to imprison us? I’m not going to take this sitting down,” Bull said.

“You have chosen your own fate,” Shor said. “Jump.”

The whole ship came apart in a rolling flash of light, like Tag was watching a curtain go up in flames. Then a blink later it materialized in a new location. The clear bulkheads along the side allowed him to see they were somewhere halfway between their last position and the Citadel.

Bull reappeared and was thrown against a bulkhead, his body smacking heavily against the alloy. He crashed to the deck.

“Maybe you will have a seat now,” Shor said.

“Screw you,” Bull said. But he climbed into a chair anyway.

They jumped again.

The reprieve allowed Tag enough time to recover his breath, his heart settling into a normal rhythm. The pounding in his head never went away, and blood trickled out of his nose. Those must have been the side effects of straining themselves using this Luminal flickering tech.

“Why didn’t you just pick us up in these ships in the first place?” Sumo said after they jumped again.

“We would’ve if they’d been available,” Shor explained. “I’m afraid the few transports you saw are all we have left. Just enough to reinforce your Argo and take all of you back to the Citadel. Then the vessels will join the battle again.”

Another jump.

“Most of these transports were destroyed by the Drone-Luminals,” Shor continued.

Jump.

“Why not just use them to jump into the colonization ship and finish them off?” Tag asked.

“You don’t think we tried?” Shor asked. “You saw what the Collectors can do. They have weapons capable of creating a null barrier that eliminates this matter translation technology. It freezes us, just like we’ve done to the Drone-Luminals.”

Jump.

“If they’ve got that technology, why not use it on this whole damn planet?” Gorenado asked. Then his eyes widened. “Shit, is that what they’re going to do?”

“No, of course not,” Shor said. “The null barrier, just like these jumps, takes tremendous amounts of energy. Creating a barrier that large would not be possible.”

They jumped one more time, finding themselves in a dark cavern. The glow from the interior of the ship bled out of the clear partitions in the bulkhead, giving the space around them a slightly orange glow.

“We’re under the Citadel,” Shor said. “Everyone needs to jump out so the transport can be used to evacuate more of our forces.”

Tag leapt out immediately and found himself on the rocky floor of the cave. He flicked on his helmet-mounted light. As the others appeared around him, their lights pierced the darkness. The transport disappeared.

“Now, we go up,” Shor said.

“What about our injured?” Bracken said, gesturing to the cocooned Mechanics. “We can’t just leave them here.”

“We won’t,” Shor said. Then it gestured toward its people, and a small squad separated from the main group. They gathered up the injured and began flickering away.

“Where are they going?” Tag asked.

“We have a medical facility within these caverns. A triage center of sorts. I swear my oath on the light that they will be protected and healed.”

The last of the injured disappeared with the Luminals.

“You will have to explain this flicker technology in more detail to my people and me,” Coren said. “It’s intriguing to say the least.”

“If fortune favors us in today’s battles, we will have that opportunity,” Shor said. “I have no qualms sharing our secrets with proven allies.”

“Machine willing, we will reign victorious against the Collectors,” Bracken said.

“I have heard of the technical prowess of your people,” Shor said. “I have no doubt you can offer us improvements to this technology. Our current flickering paradigm requires tremendous amounts of energy, which we have not been able to reduce. It’s why we still must rely on conventional hyperspace travel to cover long distances. We have not mastered flickering beyond proximal lengths.”

“I see,” Bracken said.

Tag imagined an arrogant grin crossing Coren’s face under his facemask.

Then Shor looked at Tag. “But all that will have to wait. We are most interested in human technology now. I believe it is the only thing that can save us.”

Coren practically deflated.

“How?” Tag asked.

Shor looked at Alpha. “She is the answer.”

“Me?” Alpha said. “I have struggled against the Collectors as much as anyone. I am not holding any answers back.”

A strange harrumph escaped Shor’s mouth. Maybe a laugh. Tag couldn’t quite be sure. “Synthetic biological intelligence. Doctor Brewer, we discovered rumors of what you had created from communications we intercepted from the Collectors. If this symbiotic relationship you have created between the neural and digital networks is as powerful as it seems to be, we think we can adapt it to free all of those who have been bound by the nanites.”

“Trust me, we’ve considered it,” Tag said. “But neither my people nor the Mechanics have been able to find a workable solution.”

“Precisely,” Shor said. “Which is why we brought you here to us. Together, we will find that solution.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Another group of Luminals flickered into the cavern, each armed with the strange weapons Tag had seen them use on the Drone-Luminals.

“It appears we are ready,” Shor said. “Gather around and stay with me. There is no flickering inside the Citadel.”

“Why not?” Alpha asked. “Would it not be more efficient?”

“Efficient, yes,” Shor said. “But to protect our leadership, we have null fields of our own that would kill anyone flickering in and out above these caverns.”

“Ah,” Bull rumbled. “Assassination prevention.”

“Yes, that’s one way to describe it.”

Shor led the group through a narrow stairwell carved into the cavern. Tiny droplets of gold were spread over the cavern walls like dew, illuminating the passage.

Low rumbles shook through the walls. Occasional explosions boomed above them, and thin streams of dirt and pebbles fell from the ceiling.

Tag’s heart thumped with each step, his mind never leaving his comrades embroiled in battle around the planet.

He sent a comm request to the Grand Fury again. “This is Commander Brewer requesting a situation update.”

Hibino’s voice came back over the comms, relatively calm. “We’ve received direct communications from these Luminals and are coordinating offensive operations with their help. We’ve lost another squadron of fighters, and the Broadsword experienced a contained fusion reactor failure.”

“Understood,” Tag said, hating that his people were sacrificing their lives while he traipsed around in relative safety.

“I do think we’re pushing them back though, Commander,” Hibino said. “The Collectors’ colonization ship appears to be recalling their warships. Fighters are providing cover for the retreat but little else.”

Sofia gave Tag a knowing look.

“That’s good news,” Tag said. “But don’t get too confident in case they’re setting up a feint.”

“Of course, Commander,” Hibino said.

“Don’t worry,” Shor said. “Now that we have you all here in the Citadel, we will divert more resources toward the aid of your strike group.”

They continued up the stairwell, surrounded by those glimmering stones in the rock wall, until the cave-like environment gave way to a vast chamber. Crystalline gold walls rose on either side of them. Shor’s team of Luminals spread out around Tag’s meager crew.

More Luminals rushed out of corridors. Some carried weapons, and others carried their wounded. Shouts filled the air. Tag hadn’t expected the vacant faces of the Luminals to express much emotion, but he thought he saw looks of worry and fear in their dark eyes as they ran past. Maybe it was just his imagination getting the better of him.

“You think we can actually win this?” Sofia asked Tag.

Another Luminal wrapped in one of the med-cocoons cried out in pain as two of his comrades transported him down a stairwell.

“I think we can,” Tag said. “Hibino seems confident. But the biggest question is what happens to us and the Luminals afterwards.”

“They needed our help to stop the Collectors,” Coren said, “but once we beat them back, we’re severely outnumbered. We’ll be in no better a position than your people were on the UNS Hope when the Luminals attacked them. As much as I respect their technology, I do not yet know if I respect them.”

“I hope we can come away from this with more allies, not enemies,” Tag said.

There was so much about these people that Tag didn’t know, and it might be a tactical mistake to follow them straight into their Citadel from a traditional military perspective.

But Tag had always followed an unorthodox path. He had learned to trust his intuition, and sometimes venturing into the unknown even when you didn’t have the luxury of comprehensive intel was the only way to learn something new, for better or worse.

“Alpha,” Tag began in a lowered voice, “whatever happens next, continue to transmit every bit of intel you can to Captain Hibino. I want the strike group to know everything we learn down here.”

“That implies we may not make it up to them ourselves,” Alpha said.

“That’s correct,” Tag said. “We have to prepare for anything.”

An explosion resonated through the Citadel. Fiery light refracted through the crystalline walls, and the ceiling shook. Lonestar and Gorenado ducked as bits of crystal fell around them.

Bull took a chunk of fallen crystal to his shoulder. The marine almost fell until Coren grabbed his upper arm.

“Thanks, Mechanic,” Bull growled.

Somewhere above, a laser glanced into the side of the Citadel, violent red light absorbed by the crystal. Then Tag heard the whoomph of the Luminals’ cannons fire back in response, the heavy thuds of pulsefire and flashing lasers bursting out from the building.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Sofia asked, a tinge of worry in her voice.

“This is the safest location on all the planet,” Shor replied.

“And yet it seems to be falling apart,” Coren said. “That is not very reassuring.”

“I am not trying to provide reassurance,” Shor said. “All I need to do is get you to the Sovereign.”

“Who’s the Sovereign?” Tag asked.

“He who leads us, the one who keeps the Citadel in the light,” Shor said.

That didn’t exactly satisfy Tag, but he didn’t have time to press for a better answer. Another quake shook the Citadel, nearly deafening as the floor buckled slightly.

“Follow me,” Shor said, charging ahead.

They sprinted up a spiraling pathway to a wide-open space. Tag nearly gasped at what he saw. It wasn’t the alien environment that inspired the shock but rather the devastation amid the opulence.

Strange glowing orbs hung from the ceiling, filling the massive room with light, each appearing like a miniature sun. The middle of the vast floor was filled with a pool of silvery liquid. A fountain sprayed in the center of the pool. Plants grew along the walls, slowly changing colors. They pulsed and recoiled each time another blast sounded outside.

All around, the bodies of Luminals lay sprawled, their limbs broken and twisted, golden liquid spreading around them. Black singe marks marred the walls, and tendrils of plants smoldered. Several bodies lay inside the fountain, floating in the silver.

“We’re almost there,” Shor said.

Two huge doors lay open past the fountain. Shor’s people spread out around it, stopping just before they passed the threshold. Shor kept going, beckoning to Tag and the others. Inside, they were greeted with more Luminals transporting the injured. Shouts and cries filled the air. It was a scene of brutal chaos that contrasted sharply with the elegance of the statues and pillars adorning the place. It looked less to Tag like a military stronghold and more like an elegant art museum.

“This is really the safest place on this damn planet?” Lonestar asked.

“It is now,” Shor said. “We beat the Drone-Luminals who tried to overthrow us. Now, before it’s too late, I need you to meet the Sovereign.”

In the midst of all the Luminal foot soldiers, a larger alien sat on a throne at the far end of the room.

Its eyes weren’t cave-like holes like the other Luminals’. Instead, they were white orbs. Golden liquid trickled out of them and from the corners of his mouth. Black singe marks covered his body, his robes shredded and burned. One of his arms was wrapped in the cocoon material, and his long fingers lay broken on his lap. Translucent vines stretched from machines in the ceiling into the back of his neck.

Other Luminals milled around the Sovereign, talking in hushed voices. A convulsion shook through the creature’s shoulders, and it let out a long, pained gasp, as if struggling to breathe. Tag wasn’t an expert in Luminal physiology, but it didn’t take his doctoral training to know that this Sovereign wasn’t long for this world—or any other.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“We need you and Alpha to integrate with the Sovereign before it transitions into the light forever,” Shor announced.

“Integrate?” Tag asked.

“We need to connect your neural networks to ensure a rapid upload and dissemination of data,” Shor said. “It is a painless process.”

“Does this require our death?” Alpha asked matter-of-factly.

Shor let out a grating noise that Tag took for laughter. “Of course not. This is similar to how you access the human Net for information. The difference is your virtual immersion.”

“What about the battle outside?” Tag asked. “I can’t abandon this fight.”

Shor gestured to another Luminal officer. It strode to a terminal at the center of the room. Its fingers seemed to stretch into beams of light, coursing over the buttons on the terminal until the entire chamber was bathed in an enormous holo image of the battle raging outside. Luminal fighters marked as friendlies intercepted the Drone-Luminal forces flooding toward the Citadel.

Tag saw no other sign of Collector forces. He assumed most must have retreated by now.

“We are on the verge of victory,” Shor said. With a wave of its fingers, the entire holo shifted to show a schematic view of the battle in space. “Your forces have decidedly shifted the battle in space too. We have sabotaged some of the Collector ships that were not protected by null shields, quickly eliminating them.”

Tag nearly shivered when Shor told him that. The mere fact that these Luminals, with just a little help, could so handily beat back the Collectors’ forces told him these people were as powerful as the ancient humans of the UNS Hope had feared.

“Hold on a second,” Sofia said. “You people had no problem accessing our ship’s data with that crazy light tech of yours, and you’re telling me you need the Skipper and Alpha to tie into this mind-sharing thing with your Sovereign? Why can’t you just download whatever the three hells you need?”

“Yeah, this smells like a whole lot of horse shit to me,” Lonestar said, bringing her rifle up ever so slightly.

Shor held up a hand as if to stay their aggression. “Accessing your network is easy. But taking data—”

“Stealing it,” Bull growled.

Shor’s voice remained calm. “That process is a one-way data transfer. We need your minds in conversation to understand the synthetic intelligence you’ve created. With a better understanding of its power, we can alter the minds and consciousnesses of those who have been enslaved by nanites. But this needs to be a back-and-forth conversation, an exchange of ideas—not just a one-way transfer.”

“You’re telling me that all your technical knowledge isn’t enough—and you need our captain’s mind to connect with your Sovereign?” Coren said. “This is highly suspect.”

A fire seemed to boil in the vacant cavities where Shor’s eyes and mouth would be in another race. “Mechanic, you have spent far too long bowing down to the glory of the machines to understand the power of biology. That was your race’s downfall, something the humans have not yet fallen victim to.” Shor flared, its body burning nearly white. “The technical feats we have accomplished aren’t just because of our study of physics and chemistry, the predictable sciences, but also of the unpredictability of biology. The very essence of life, which is more than a set of mathematical equations. Consciousness cannot be so easily distilled into even the most complex of artificial intelligences, try as we might. Because no equations rule rationality and irrationality, choice and emotion.”

Coren stood his ground, but Shor seemed to loom above him.

“Shor,” Tag said, “stop scolding him, and let’s do this. But I want some reassurance that we aren’t hostages. What’s going on with the Argo?”

Shor relayed the request to the officer manning the terminal, and once again the scenery projected by the holo morphed into another view of the planet. Golden pillars and bodies surrounded the broken remains of the smoldering Stalwart. Nearby lay the Argo. Singe marks covered parts of the ship’s hull, but even from a cursory glance, Tag guessed the damage was mostly superficial. Nothing the repair bots couldn’t handle, given a little time.

The Luminal troops that were still stationed around the ship fired at a few entrenched Drone-Luminals. But the battle appeared to largely be over.

Tag looked at the Luminal leader. “Let Bracken and those of hers who can fight go. Give them the Argo so they can rejoin our strike group above the planet.”

Bracken nodded, standing straighter among the remnants of her crew. “This sounds like a logical plan to me.”

“We cannot waste time,” Shor said. “You will have us running your people back and forth from your ship all day.”

“If I have what you need, then you have no choice but to wait,” Tag said. Before, in the bridge of the Argo, the Luminals had held all the leverage. But now that he knew what they wanted, he had the negotiating power. “You said it yourself. The Collectors are being beaten.”

“But the Sovereign is dying,” Shor said, no longer burning as brilliantly. “And the Collectors may return at any moment with more forces.”

“That is a risk we’ll have to take,” Tag said. “If you are going to ask my crew and me to risk everything to help your people, then I expect you must have some tolerance for risk as well.”

Shor looked up at the Sovereign. The hulking creature’s eyes didn’t rotate, and its mouth didn’t move. Tag wondered if the being was even conscious.

The Sovereign made no apparent answer, but Shor sighed. “Fine. Captain Tan, prepare a transport for Captain Bracken and her crew. Summon the medics to bring along her injured. Return them to the Argo immediately.”

One of the Luminals saluted Shor then gestured at a group of soldiers. It took off out of the chamber with Bracken and her crew.

Now it was just Tag, Sofia, Coren, Alpha, and the marines surrounded by the Luminals.

“How long does the integration take?” Tag asked. “And what will happen to us?”

“The integration is relatively simple. We use a magnetic resonance-based scanning apparatus, not so different from your own human technologies, to interpret your neural activity. Signals are returned to your brain via the same apparatus. This will require your complete focus on the virtual world you create with the Sovereign.”

“Complete focus?” Tag asked. “I’m guessing that means we will be unaware of what’s going on in the physical world.”

“That is accurate,” Shor said. “Rest assured that all time is relative in this subconscious state. What you perceive as an hour or more may be only minutes or seconds in this world. You will accomplish much in a short amount of time relative to this physical reality. It is our hope that you can impart as much of your knowledge and problem-solving strategies to the Sovereign as possible.”

Tag looked at the Sovereign. The alien seemed to be growing paler and weaker. “If the Sovereign dies, what good are any of our efforts?”

“The Sovereign you see before you is only a physical being. Like light itself, it is both matter and non-matter simultaneously. When its physical body departs, it will be replaced.”

“Then perhaps it would be more beneficial for us to wait for this new body,” Alpha said.

“The selection process may take weeks,” Shor said. “We can only perform the integration while the Sovereign is still alive, but when the body is gone, the nodal network left behind by the Sovereign will still process the information it perceives from your conversations.”

Tag tried to wrap his mind around the implications of the technologies Shor was describing. Sometimes the new worlds he discovered seemed as much run by magic as they did by technology. Someday humans would grasp these advanced concepts, delving into the science behind them until they’d beaten all the understanding they could from these seemingly divine technical miracles.

But today wasn’t a day for lengthy studies.

Tag glanced at the holo. The transport vessel with Bracken’s crew was leaving the Citadel now.

“Fine,” Tag said. “Set up this apparatus. But I am not integrating until Bracken is at the Argo.”

“Very well,” Shor said, signaling to a few of the Luminals near the Sovereign.

The strange beings started gathering equipment scattered throughout the room to form coffin-like contraptions.

Coren leaned closer to Tag. “I don’t like this, Commander. I don’t like any of this.”

“For once, I’m on the metal-head’s side,” Sofia said.

“I understand your reservations,” Tag said, “but we started this mission to save everyone enslaved by the Collectors’ nanites. I know this is a long shot, but it’s what we came to do.”

“These are the same Luminals that attacked the UNS Hope and slaughtered all those people,” Sofia said. “Even if the Collectors are bad, how do we know the Luminals aren’t worse?”

Shor strode toward them, miniature bolts of lightning flashing in its eyes. “You suspect us of being worse than the Collectors? What is your evidence for this?”

Sofia explained then what they had seen, the horrors of the UNS Hope’s footage that the Collector, Ezekiel, had showed them.

“Was that video a complete fabrication? Did you or did you not kill those people?” Sofia asked.

Shor looked at the progress on the apparatus, seeming to lose itself in thought for a moment. Then it turned back to them.

“No, we attacked that ship. We killed those humans. Everything you saw was completely true.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The marines raised their rifles, not quite high enough to be threatening, but the gesture was clear. Coren and Sofia both reached for their pistols. Tag’s fingers prickled with adrenaline.

“Do not be alarmed,” Shor said, holding out its hands in a placating gesture. “What you were shown was no doubt carefully edited to weaponize you against us.”

“Explain,” Sofia said.

“When your species sent those generation ships like the UNS Hope to explore the galaxy, our own exploration ships came in contact with them,” Shor said. “At first, we kept our distance. We are not a species accustomed to attracting attention, and we have the resources we need to survive in our own solar system. Exploration to us was simply a matter of expanding our understanding of the universe. We are very interested in stretching the bounds of understanding and our own biology. What we are today is very different than what our species looked like centuries ago.”

“So you’re not that different than the Collectors,” Sofia said. “They designed their own evolution too.”

“Every species designs their own evolution, whether consciously or not,” Shor said. “Some drive their own advances by altering their genetic code. Others adapt slowly over time as their support technology—like medicine and transportation—changes who lives and dies. To think that you humans, even those who despise the Collectors, are not also designing your own evolution would be naive.”

“Tell me how that justifies your attacks on the humans of the UNS Hope,” Tag said. “I don’t want to debate the ethics of species-wide bioengineering.”

“You’re right,” Shor said. “This does not justify our attack on the Hope. But what you didn’t see were our first attempts at contact with your ancestors. We first ignored the Hope and its inhabitants, choosing to steer clear of them. We were not concerned that they were a threat to us, but we assigned our own observation ships to follow the Hope should the situation evolve.

“Unfortunately, things deteriorated rapidly. Our scouts observed the Hope making contact with their first intergalactic sentient beings on a planet where the indigenous populations had only just planted the seeds of civilization. The Hope sent their own foraging parties to the planet. At first, we expected they were simply on a scientific expedition of their own or that perhaps they had mismanaged the supplies on their generation ship and were looking to top off their supplies.

“We were wrong. So wrong. They extracted resources from the planet, and we would not have acted if that had been all. But what we found unacceptable was how they treated the sentient population on the planet.”

Now those abyssal cavities that served as Shor’s eyes turned red. “They attacked the indigenous settlements and kidnapped individuals, taking them back aboard their ship.”

Sofia’s features seemed to soften behind her visor. “And that’s when you attacked?”

“Not quite,” Shor said. “We would never do this to a sentient species, but we also did not want to attract any undue attention. Perhaps they had good reason to extract these other beings from their home planet. We continued to track them as the Hope lingered near this particular solar system.

“At that point, we still had not attempted any form of contact. However, other scouts of ours reported human exploration vessels and generation ships in other sectors of the galaxy. Our interest in them was piqued. We wanted to know what these humans planned, whether they would threaten our existence, as they had come increasingly closer to the planet you are now on.

“Then our scouts saw the humans return some of those beings they had kidnapped back to the planet. We thought perhaps we had assessed the situation wrong. Maybe the humans had decided to help these people, advance their technologies and civilization. Again, we would not normally interfere with a species in such a manner, but we recognized that our races have different ethical codes.”

“Spare us the ethics discussion,” Tag said. “Get to the point.”

Shor gave a slight nod. “You are awfully aggressive, human. Not so different from those relatives of yours. We watched the newly reintroduced beings slaughter their brethren. It made no sense to us, and we had to understand why this had happened. We retrieved the corpses of the slaughtered individuals as well as some of the reintroduced specimens that had been killed.

“What we found was a rudimentary precursor particle to the nanites that have infected our people, the Mechanics, and so many others. There was no doubt these particles had come from the humans, and at that time, they had sent out drone scouts that were easing closer and closer to this planet. We feared this nanite technology, because despite the primitivity of the humans we had observed, this type of mind-enslavement was something we were utterly unprepared to face. We assumed the best way to head off any danger was to introduce ourselves to the humans and create open lines of communication.”

Now Shor hung its head low. “We underestimated the crew of the UNS Hope, I’m afraid. When we appeared to them initially, it was in a similar scene that played out on your SRES Argo. We flickered into existence in their ship, requesting a meeting with their commander. Instead of being greeted with words, they slaughtered most of our people and took others prisoner.

“Some of the prisoners were released back to us, seemingly normal and healthy. We welcomed them into the observation ship following the Hope. Unfortunately, they betrayed us. We quickly subdued them only to discover that they had been infected with the nanites. We feared the humans had radical plans to unleash this scourge on us.”

Shor took another break, its fingers clasping together. “We tried once again to open diplomatic lines by sending another envoy in a weaponless shuttle. Our initial hails over all the human channels were ignored, and then the shuttle was destroyed. I regret to say that we stubbornly tried communicating a third time, this time with a ship that had shields to block the humans’ attacks. Even still, they fired on us. The observation ship was forced to retreat, unable to withstand the formidable firepower of these humans.

“We took that as a sign that soft diplomacy would not convince these humans to stand down. There was much debate among our own people about what we would do. The trajectory of some human scouting drones suggested they would eventually discover our planet. If we destroyed those drones, we assumed that would only increase the humans’ interest in our solar system.

“And by the time our own warships reached the human generation ship, the Hope would likely have made it far enough to get out of our grasp. The observation vessel assigned to the Hope had been mortally wounded by the attack and would be unable to follow the Hope as it began its journey out of that solar system. We would have no idea when they might return to our system or with what kind of forces.

“We had only one choice to prevent the inevitable discovery of our race. We had to convince the humans we were not to be provoked. That our powers were far greater than theirs. This incident, I’m afraid, resulted in the holo footage you described.”

Sofia cursed softly, shaking her head. She was no doubt thinking along the same lines as Tag. The Luminals had jump-started the paranoia of the Collectors, but the humans aboard the Hope had already been a threat. The situation was not as simple as it seemed, and Tag had the feeling it would only get more complicated from here.

“The observation ship sent its few remaining warriors flickering into the Hope. They killed the human marines and did their best to disrupt the crews’ scientific operations. That meant releasing the very nanites the humans were working on, which we believe may have contributed to some of the madness the crew experienced. But after that, the Hope disappeared from the solar system. By the time we recovered our observation ship, there was no sign of the generation ship in that solar system. We had lost sight of the humans, but we had not forgotten them. We had to prepare our defenses here, bolstering our military—a military that was scarcely existent prior to this event—in hopes we would beat back our attackers should the humans eventually discover us.”

“And setting the Collectors on the path they currently follow,” Tag said.

“I must admit that we did not fully anticipate the result of those actions. We did not think our attack would cause these humans to become the Collectors they are today. We thought this was the way of all humans. And that’s why, when you responded to our SOS, not long after we had heard that there were actually humans fighting the Collectors instead of allying with them, we thought there may be hope yet for us, for you, for all those who have been enslaved by the Collectors.”

Tag mulled over everything the Luminal had said. Nothing seemed to contradict what he understood about the Collectors. But if the Collectors had successfully manipulated Tag’s perception of the Luminals, it stood to reason the Luminals could just as successfully manipulate him now.

He had to decide who was toying with his mind. Likely, they both were. But he still had to choose a side.

“I want to believe,” Tag said. “I want to believe you will be our allies and that together we’ll defeat the Collectors, free our peoples. But all you’ve given me is a story. I’m a scientist. My economy is one of data and intelligence, not allegories. I need more than a story. I need proof.”

Shor gestured to the holo displaying the Argo at the center of the chamber. Bracken’s crew, at least according to the markers on the map, had arrived there.

“Ask your people if we have not complied with our end of this bargain,” Shor said.

“Bracken, Tag here. Are you at the Argo?”

“We are,” Bracken said. “It’s taken me a moment to get used to the rudimentary human controls of this vessel, but if Coren can do it, I believe I can too. The ship took some heavy damage, but we can get it ready for flight.”

“Do it,” Tag said. “And if the Luminals betray us, leave. Head directly back to the Montenegro and warn them of everything you witnessed today.”

“My word is as good as the machines we command,” Bracken said.

“Is that good enough for you, Commander Brewer?” Shor said. “The Sovereign’s light is fading over our horizon, soon to pass into a night of darkness. Even if you do successfully integrate, the integrity of that connection may be compromised. Time is, as you might say, not on our side. But the question is: will you be?”

Tag clenched his jaw as the two Luminals that had been working on the apparatuses stepped back from their work, revealing the repaired coffin-like machines next to him and Alpha. “Yes, I’m ready.”

But, in truth, he could never have prepared for what came next.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Luminals escorted Tag and Alpha toward the contraptions. The outsides were an opaque black. Inside, the walls glowed, letting off a soft warmth Tag could feel even in his EVA suit.

“For this to work, you will need to remove your outer clothing,” Shor said. “The environment here will support your biological systems.”

“He is correct,” Alpha said. “The atmospheric pressure and composition of the air are suitable for the human body.”

Tag could tell as much from his EVA suit’s sensors, but human sensors couldn’t detect every foreign toxin, contaminant, or gods forbid, nanite in the air.

Only one way to find out, he thought.

He took a deep breath then removed his helmet.

Nothing burned or froze. Nothing set his nerves jolting with electricity. He took his first breath. The air tasted like ozone, likely from the skirmish before their arrival. He stripped out of his suit, and once he and Alpha were ready, the Luminals attending them lowered them into the integration apparatus.

Another explosion burst above them, visible through the slightly translucent walls. The remains of a ship rained down over the chamber roof. Turrets erupted in response to an enemy fighter drawing too close. For an enemy that was on the retreat, the Collectors and their enslaved Drone-Luminals were still putting up quite the fight.

Tag didn’t want to do this, but he lay back inside the coffin-like structure. The Luminals closed the door. Tag waited a few seconds, cold anticipation filling him, making his nerves jitter. Then the light inside exploded with all the power of a sun going supernova. He closed his eyes, but the radiance pierced his lids.

Images suddenly filtered into his mind, as if the light had found his optic nerves and begun playing a movie directly on them. He saw a rush of gray and white. It began to coalesce into a landscape filled with choking, dark smoke.

Tag felt a slow tingle of electricity travel through his body as he—or rather a projection of himself—materialized in this new world. He smelled the smoke, tasted the burning air on his tongue, and even heard his heart thumping.

He sensed something looming behind the screen of smoke and started to walk forward. Then the tapping of metal against the ground sounded to his right. From the mists, a female figure began to coalesce, her body seeming to be formed as much by smoke as it was by metal, constantly shifting.

“Alpha, that you?” Tag asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, Commander Brewer,” she said. “To borrow an expression, I feel as though I only have one foot in the door.”

“What do you mean?”

“Part of me is here,” she said. “Another part still feels as though it is in the other world.”

Tag guessed he had some idea of what was going on. “Maybe the biological part of your consciousness is here, and the part of you that is nested in your internal computer is still in the Citadel.”

Alpha seemed to think about that. “You are probably right, Commander.”

“Come on,” he said. “I feel like we should keep going forward.”

They walked side by side, just Tag and Alpha in a world clogged by acrid smoke. It reminded him of the early days when he’d first created her. So much of what they had faced together had been an unknown. She was growing accustomed to a new world, and he was her guide, doing his best to describe to her what it was to be human. She had grappled with every new sensation, every new emotion and thought, and they both had come face-to-face with worlds and species that neither had been prepared for.

“We’ve gone through a lot,” Tag said, the words feeling like an understatement.

“Yes, Commander, that does seem like an appropriate way to characterize our relationship. Do you think we will live through this?”

“Do you mean this integration or this war?”

“Both,” Alpha said.

Somewhere in the deep distance, he heard a hollow boom. Perhaps back at the real Citadel.

“I think we will survive,” Tag said. “At least I believe we will.”

“Is belief enough?” Alpha said. “I cannot calculate the probabilities of how belief impacts the outcome of our mission.”

“Because you are incapable of connecting with the machine intelligence part of your conscious?” Tag asked.

“No, even if I were connected, it would not matter. Belief is an inconsequential variable.”

“Now, on that, I believe you’re wrong,” Tag said.

Alpha gave him a quizzical look as they continued. Soon the smoke gave way. They entered a space that reminded Tag of the Sovereign’s chamber in the Citadel. Only this one was burning, fire dancing across the crystalline surfaces.

At the far end of the room loomed a massive being. It looked nothing like the Sovereign’s physical body, but the creature’s presence conveyed wisdom and command.

Unlike the other Luminals, this magnificent alien had eyes that glowed a bright yellow. Its flesh was aquamarine, almost as translucent as water, vaguely reminding Tag of the Melarrey. Its mouth was filled with teeth—no cave-like orifice here. Muscles rippled beneath the surface of its partially translucent flesh.

“Commander Brewer, Alpha, you have arrived,” the Sovereign said. It beckoned them into the chamber.

Tag looked the Sovereign up and down. “You seem to be in good health, but that smoke—”

“Yes, yes,” the Sovereign rumbled. “The corridor you traveled is, in a sense, a symbolic representation of my physical form’s nervous system. My mind is always intact. So long as Sol shines on this planet, I will always exist, whether a corporeal representation of me lives or not. Such is my blessing and curse, forever trapped in this world of light, a purgatory of sorts and—let me stop. Rambling is easy when you have too much time for thoughts and not enough companions to dole out the punishment of listening to me.”

“Shor told us we might be of help,” Tag said, hoping to get the strange being back on mission. “That if we integrated with your consciousness, there was a chance you could use our minds to develop a cure.”

The Sovereign put its hands over its stomach, shaking for a second. Tag thought the alien was in pain until he realized it was laughter.

“Yes, yes, it did, didn’t it?” it asked. “Shor is an ardent believer in the Light of All Things. But I’m afraid belief often overshadows reality.”

Tag didn’t like the insinuation. If they were wasting their time here...

“You speak of belief, just like him,” Alpha said, gesturing to Tag.

“It’s not a concept that a machine-based intelligence would grasp, is it?” the Sovereign asked Alpha.

“It is not,” she replied. “But I am more than machine.”

“Exactly why you’re here. In fact, the only reason you’re able to be here.”

“Our people are dying out in the real world,” Tag said. “Let’s cut through the ambiguous chatter and get to the point. We’re running out of time.”

“Time is quite a—there I go again.” The Sovereign shook its head. “We’re here to solve the problem of our peoples.”

“Yes, what’s your plan?”

The Sovereign grinned, displaying all of its teeth. “I have no plan.”

Now Tag thought of the Crucible and Grand Fury and all those other ships still desperately in the fight against the Collectors. The slaughter that he’d seen across the Luminals’ planet and his people, still waiting for the enemy to descend on them in the Citadel.

He bit back his frustration. “Then why call us here?”

The Sovereign floated across the floor toward Tag and Alpha. He stopped before them, his eyes gazing over Alpha.

“I may not have a plan, but I do know the key to everything.” He pointed at Alpha. “It’s her.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The alien peered at Alpha. The thing was like a statue come to life, its movements unnatural and its physique too perfect to be mistaken for anything real. The damn Sovereign had dragged them into this altered state of consciousness and so far hadn’t offered a clue to how they would win this war.

All it did was speak in riddles.

Tag took a step toward the alien. This whole world was a simulation, and yet he could smell a floral scent drifting off the Sovereign. The closer he got to the alien, the more his skin tingled, as if electricity were sparking in the air between them. It was enough to make him gasp for breath, and he felt his mind flutter as if he were teetering off the cliff into unconsciousness.

He staggered then caught himself.

The Sovereign stepped back from Tag and Alpha, and its overbearing presence lessened, giving Tag room to breathe.

“Give me something,” Tag said. “Tell me one thing to make me believe you aren’t just toying with us.”

“Tell you what, Tag Brewer?” the Sovereign asked, its eyes filled with sorrow. “Tell you how I know Alpha is the key? How we’re going to free our people who have been enslaved by nanites? How we are going to win this war?”

“Yes, all of that,” Tag said. “Tell me.”

The Sovereign wandered back to its throne, dropping into it with a heavy thud. It laid its huge head into a monstrous open palm, its body shimmering in golden radiance.

Suddenly, the Sovereign no longer looked so impressive or frightening. It looked old, its skin wrinkling, the yellow glow fading like a light bank on the last legs of its life, nearly blinking out.

“We’ve tried to resurrect the consciousness within those who have been enslaved by the nanites,” the Sovereign said. “We have tried so very hard to bring back the people and personalities buried within their nanite-laden brains. And from the intelligence we have gathered, you have been trying to do the same.”

Tag recalled the Mechanics’ efforts back on Meck’ara. Images of the rows and rows of bodies in stasis chambers floated through his mind. They were not so different from the images from the human ships, either, where the SRE military had rounded up humans who had mutinied against their commanders, enslaved by the nanites.

“That’s true,” Tag said. “We haven’t figured out a way to remove the nanites and bring people back. Once they’ve been turned to drones, it seems like even successfully taking out the nanites does nothing to restore their minds.”

“Yes, that has been our experience as well,” the Sovereign said. “We have removed the nanites only to watch the previously infected die. We’ve tried to ease them back into consciousness, doing everything we can to isolate them from any grav wave signals that may be directing their actions through the nanites. We have tried transmuting the chemical composition of the nanites, rendering them inert within the brain.”

“And none of it has worked?” Alpha asked.

“None of it.”

Tag’s heart sank. The Luminals possessed technologies he had never dreamed of. And they were just as hopeless.

“Nothing has worked, but you still think Alpha is the key,” Tag said. “Why?”

“I believe we’ve all been clinging to a false notion. The Mechanics are pragmatic, but you humans are emotional. Don’t tell Shor, but I believe many of my people cling too strongly to our religions. And yet all of us, no matter how differently we approach this issue, have been trying to do the same thing.”

Alpha stared up at the big alien expectantly, her eyescreens glowing with an expression that Tag had always thought of as inquisitive. Perhaps he was anthropomorphizing her a bit too much in her android chassis, but he couldn’t help remembering the first time he’d brought her to life. How she’d damn near killed him because her personality hadn’t quite formed yet.

Just like watching a child grow, developing into their own person, so too had Alpha grown. And that, to Tag, was the undeniable nature of the human condition. Every human being valued their independence, their thoughts and personality, a mess of chemical and electric signals zipping around beneath their skulls, making each person a unique individual.

While some species, like the Dreg, functioned more like a collective intelligence, in which no individual being mattered more than the whole, humans, Mechanics, Melarrey, Luminals, and so many others placed extraordinary value on individual lives. Granted, their civilizations were not always perfect; many had their faults. But at the end of the day, they had built their societies on the recognition that the individuals living within their civilizations deserved certain rights. Certain privileges. And among those rights was the freedom to think. To have feelings and ideas unique to each person.

The nanites erased that free thought, reprogrammed the brain. Turned people into automatons no more individually sentient than the Dreg.

And that was what had been strikingly obvious, yet completely ignored the entire time the Mechanics and humans had struggled to find a solution to free the people infected with nanites from their deep unconscious states.

“We’ll never wake them, will we?” Tag asked. “They’re completely erased. Their personalities were obliterated by the nanites, even if their physiology remains intact.”

The Sovereign frowned. “I’m afraid so. The delicate balance of chemicals and connections within our brains, whether Luminal or Mechanic or human, are destroyed by the nanites.”

“Then those people are like walking corpses?” Tag asked.

The Sovereign shook its head. “Almost. But the nanites don’t just erase the memories or the personality of those enslaved.”

“What do you mean?” Tag asked.

“I have very little physical evidence to back this up, because it is simply not something we’ve had time to test, but I believe that the nanites are more than just the one-way antennae that you think they are.”

With the Sovereign leading him on, the pieces of the mysterious Luminals’ theory started to come together.

“Of course,” Tag said. “The Collectors have studied so many species, not just because they were interested in their physical attributes, but also the way their minds worked. To successfully use the nanites, they needed to understand how to properly reprogram Drones’ minds.”

“Yes, yes!” the Sovereign said.

“But those who have been enslaved act like a normal member of their species. That means the Drone-minds retain more than just physical function. They hold on to enough self-volition to blend in.”

The Sovereign seemed to grow briefly brighter. “You are understanding it.”

“So if the nanites do indeed erase the memories and personality of the host, then maybe they transfer those things into a computer somewhere.”

“Into the nanites themselves, perhaps,” Alpha said.

The Sovereign gave them a toothy smile, its body burning brighter every second. “That is what we believe. Deep within the nanites are stored the personalities of these people. But the Collectors have restricted access to the storage of those personalities.”

“These theories all sound plausible,” Tag said. “But how is Alpha the key to your plan?”

“It’s not just Alpha who can help these people, Commander Tag Brewer.” The Sovereign let out a laugh. Its body seemed to be shrinking again. Tag blinked to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him as the glow from the Sovereign seemed to weaken further. “It’s...”

The Sovereign pointed at Tag.

“Is something wrong?” Alpha asked.

The Sovereign tried to speak, its mouth moving, but no words came out.

Tag stepped forward. A lightning strike of pain stabbed through his skull, and he crumpled to his knees.

“Commander!” Alpha said. Then she fell to a knee beside him. She tried to push herself back up, but sparks flew from her joints.

Her fingers stretched toward his. Agony coursed through his insides, every nerve in his body exploding with an unholy fire sent straight from the three hells.

“Commander, help!” Alpha cried. The pain in her voice was worse than anything his body felt.

He grabbed her metal fingers, feeling a warmth in their touch. A brief sensation of relief that they had found each other through the fires of hell.

Then everything vanished.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Tag woke with a start, pain still throbbing through his skull. Someone pulled him from the integration chamber. He blinked to clear his clouded vision.

Sofia and Coren were holding him upright. The Sovereign remained statuesque in its throne, but its head was drooping against its chest. Four Luminals crowded around it, checking over its body.

From the integration chamber next to Tag, Bull, Sumo, and Lonestar were helping Alpha out. She staggered, unsteady on her metal limbs. Her eye screens faded in and out.

“Alpha!” Tag said, breaking from Sofia and Coren. He reached the droid, and she held out a hand to him.

“Commander... what happened?” she asked as he steadied her.

Tag had no answers, but Shor did.

“The Collectors have broken through our shields,” it said.

“How?” Tag asked.

A thumping boom shook through the Citadel. Streams of dust fell from the ceiling, and cracks formed along the massive windows. A dark shadow seemed to swallow the Citadel and the landscape outside.

“A new Collector colonization ship just transitioned outside atmo,” Sofia explained.

Coren’s normally emotionless face was a mask of worry. “They weren’t running. They were just regrouping. We can’t hold them back any longer.”

“Shit,” Tag said, trying to think past his burgeoning headache.

The building shook again, and the shriek of pulsefire sounded somewhere within the bowels of the Citadel. Bull primed his rifle and took a defensive position with the other marines and the Luminal soldiers.

Tag looked at Shor. “What happen to the integration? The Sovereign was telling us how we could win, but we got yanked out.”

“The enemy is destroying the Citadel,” Shor said, “and as the Citadel falls, so does the Sovereign. He could no longer sustain your integration and his hold on this physical shell. In order to preserve his spiritual integrity, we had to pull you from the chambers.”

“He was going to tell us how to stop the nanites!” Tag said.

Another tremor coursed through the floor.

“We had no choice,” Shor said.

“Patch us in again,” Tag said. “I need to talk to the Sovereign.”

“Don’t know that we got time,” Bull said as another gout of gunfire burst down the corridor. Fighters streaked overhead, a few falling apart in blazing fireballs, their glow refracting through the crystalline walls.

“We need answers,” Tag said. “We were so close to finally understanding.”

“That will not be possible,” Shor said. “Not until we can defeat the enemy and restore the Citadel to ensure the Sovereign’s survival.”

“I’m not so sure anyone’s surviving if we stay,” Sofia said. She held her pulse rifle, glancing around nervously at the Luminals and marines.

The smell of smoke and ozone drifted in through the chamber, and a series of explosions shook the Citadel. Cracks formed in the heavy doors at the chamber’s entrance.

“They’re getting close,” Sumo said. “Commander?”

Tag hated to leave now. Not when they had nearly gotten some kind of answer about the nanites. But then again, all the Sovereign had really offered were philosophical platitudes and riddles. Nothing substantial that he could use to stop the Collectors. Sure, he could stand his ground beside the Luminals and his crew. But did the Sovereign really have something worth Tag’s time—and worth the risk of all their lives?

The answer to Tag was blindingly obvious. While they stood a chance of continuing the mission if they left now, dying beside these Luminals wouldn’t get him any closer to saving anyone, much less his crew.

“We’ve got to move,” Tag said. “Shor, we need to get back to the Argo. You’d do well to get your people out, too.”

Shor looked around the room. A few of the Luminals were watching it, clearly waiting for an answer. Others kept their rifles trained on the door as the gunfire and screams grew closer.

“If we abandon the Citadel, we will lose the Sovereign,” Shor said.

“Its body is already gone,” Tag said.

“But its mind is still within these walls,” Shor said. “We cannot give him up!”

A few of the Luminal guards cheered, zealous fire in their voices. But others looked more uncertain.

“This Sovereign of yours hasn’t helped us, so why should we die for him?” Coren asked.

“You must have faith!” Shor yelled. Its armor burned brighter.

“I believe he already has helped,” Alpha said calmly.

Before Tag could ask her to clarify, a heavy bang against the massive doors sent a spiderweb of fissures through them. Tag saw shapes moving behind the crystalline barrier. Hundreds of them by his count. They would be overwhelmed in seconds.

“Can’t we just blink out of here?” Lonestar asked.

“We are still maintaining the null shields in this chamber,” Shor said, and its voice started to break. “It’s all we have left.”

“You’re going to lose this place too,” Coren said. “There must be another way out.”

The only exit Tag saw was burning a hole through the enemy forces waiting outside that door. But even if they managed to shoot their way out, there was no doubt they would suffer heavy casualties.

“Drop the null shields so we can flicker out,” Tag said.

“If I drop the null shields, then they will flicker in,” Shor said.

“We’ll be faster!” Sofia yelled as more heavy fire pounded against the outside of the doors.

“I doubt it,” Shor said. It looked at the Sovereign then Tag. “If the Sovereign trusts you, then so must I. There is a way out. But we will be abandoning the Sovereign.”

“It’s either abandon your Sovereign or abandon all of my people—and any hope I have of helping yours,” Tag said.

Shor pointed at one of the Luminals who had helped reconstruct the integration apparatus.

“Zadra, take them through the blessing passage,” Shor said.

“You would desecrate the purity of our history with their presence there,” the other Luminal said.

“There is no other choice!” Shor yelled. One of the doors started to buckle inward. “The Sovereign invited them to integrate; it will forgive us.”

“They are not like us. They are not—”

The top of the buckling door gave way, plasma fire coursing into the chamber.

“Now!” Shor roared. The other Luminals let loose a volley of fire. Plasma bolts exploded against the walls.

Zadra raced toward the Sovereign’s throne. Tag followed it at speed.

“Let’s move!” Tag yelled to be overheard over the din.

Already the marines were covering their retreat in a blaze of fire, cutting into the Drone-Luminals outside the door. But as Tag glanced back, he saw it wasn’t just Drone-Luminals out there. There were Mechanics and other species Tag had never seen before, creatures of all shapes and sizes, an indomitable army from across the galaxy, all churned on by a single powerful signal telling them to enact the Collectors’ will.

Tag felt a pang of guilt for every one of those people who fell, their corpses singed wrecks of burning flesh and armor. They would never be saved, even if Tag and Alpha succeeded at whatever the Sovereign thought they could do.

But he couldn’t let those thoughts distract him. Not now.

“This way,” Zadra said. It placed a hand on a panel near the Sovereign’s throne, and the floor in front of the throne gave way, transforming into a series of steps leading into the dark maw of a tunnel. “Do not touch anything. It is already bad enough Shor sends you through this place.”

The Luminal disappeared into those shadows. Tag waved on his people, Coren and Sofia entering first, escorting Alpha. The marines filed down the stairs, Tag running alongside them. As soon as the last of their group had made it down, the stairs closed behind them, shutting out the ongoing sounds of battle.

Shor had stayed behind, no doubt to protect what was left of the Sovereign. Tag spared the strange, zealous alien a moment of respect before he continued chasing after Zadra and the rest of his crew.

Their boots clattered over a stone floor, and their helmet-mounted lights flashed over walls made of the same golden crystal down here. The Luminal traced its hand against the wall as they ran, and a deep red glow shot through the crystal.

“What in the three hells?” Lonestar muttered.

Tag’s eyes, too, were drawn to the huge bodies seemingly suspended within the walls, like ancient insects caught in amber. All of them were built along the same lines as the Sovereign, huge bodies vaguely similar to the Luminals yet distinct. The light glowing through the wall cast them all as massive silhouettes.

“These are the past Sovereigns,” Zadra said, its voice shaky. “You are on hallowed ground now, where no one but Luminals have treaded. Please...”

Zadra never finished its sentence, letting the words trail off instead. Explosions shook through the Citadel. Tag could almost feel the alien’s pain at the desecration and destruction of this holy site.

They continued running along in silence until they reached the end of the tunnel, where the Luminal hit another panel. A door spiraled open, revealing a wide veranda looking out over the battlefield below. A fighter raked the side of the Citadel with plasma fire, causing everyone to duck. Two more fighters intercepted it, tearing into the enemy with a fusillade of fire.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Lonestar asked. “Jump over the side?”

Another pair of fighters ripped through atmo toward them, guns burning red with charging plasma fire.

“We aren’t going to make it,” Coren said.

“Maybe it is advisable to jump,” Alpha said, leaning over the edge. “We may not be able to flicker all the way down, but perhaps if we time it, we—”

Zadra held up a hand. Suddenly, one of the Luminal troop transports blinked into existence in front of them.

“There!” Zadra yelled then turned back to run down the hall. It paused for a second, locking those vacant eyes on Tag’s. “I do not know why Shor trusted you, but you must succeed. For the Sovereign!”

“For the Sovereign!” Tag called back, not nearly as enthusiastically. But he didn’t know what else to say.

The Luminal seemed satisfied with that response and disappeared back into the tunnel, the door to the blessing passage spiraling closed again. The group flickered aboard the transport ship. As soon as the last marine was aboard, the ship took off, blinking steadily toward the Argo.

Tag watched out of one of the wide windows as more ships descended from the sky, plummeting from orbit. The massive Collector colonization ship that had arrived eclipsed the sun, casting the landscape in darkness, yet illuminated by the thrashing fire of fighters zipping over the Citadel and flames dancing across the ground. Soldiers on foot collided in waves, crashing against one another as explosions sent bodies flying.

“It’s going down,” Sofia said softly, looking through the translucent bulkhead behind them.

One of the towers on the Citadel imploded, erupting in a fiery column of smoke. Another crystalline wall shattered and gave way, crumbling. More and more chunks of the building fell away. The Citadel was being destroyed, and with it went the Sovereign.

“We’ll never get the answers now,” Coren said.

“At least we’re getting off this hellhole,” Sumo said. Then her expression dropped. “Ah, shit, Captain.”

Tag followed her gaze toward a pair of fighters accelerating their direction. The Luminals started barking orders, returning fire, flickering in a zigzag pattern. But the fighters trailed their every move. Ahead, he saw the Argo waiting just beyond the wreckage of the Stalwart. The Luminals still held it, entrenched in their positions, a ring of defenses firing at the incoming horde. The ship’s cannons were firing too.

“Looks like Bracken got the hang of it,” Sofia said. “Just a bit longer...”

“We’re almost there,” Bull said. “Hang on everyone.”

But almost wasn’t close enough. The transport flickered out then in, a few dozen meters ahead. The fighters had anticipated its jump. Lasers scorched into the transport’s side, boring holes through the troop hold. A Luminal caught in their path disintegrated into ash, its unearthly scream filling the hold. Another blast of fire stabbed through the transport’s rear thrusters, and the vessel nosedived, crashing past the columns of rock jutting from the earth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The transport tore into the ground, kicking up a rooster tail of rock and dirt, fissures spreading through the expansive windows. Tag’s restraints dug hard into his body, holding him in place, but his brain rattled in his head. Next to him, Sofia snapped against her shoulder harness. The marines clung to their rifles, grunting as Bull began to unstrap himself before they came to a complete stop.

Smoke poured from the cockpit of the transport and filled the troop hold, dark clouds clogging the space even as tendrils of the haze shifted out of the holes drilled by the incoming lasers. The sound of screeching metal gave way to the crackle of flames and the frantic yells of the crew.

“Come on,” Tag commanded. “Everyone, on me.”

Through one of the cracked windows, he saw the fighters that had brought them down now descending on their position, guns running hot.

“Flicker out!” Tag yelled. “Now!”

He barely had time to leap out of the wrecked transport, making it only a few meters from the crashed ship. The others began to appear around him. He scanned their suits, trying to count his crew, making sure everyone was there.

His heart thudded. All the marines, Sofia, Alpha, but....

“Coren!” Tag roared over the comms. “Where is he?”

Lasers lanced from the fighter, raking into the transport ship again. More flames and smoke poured out of the new holes.

“We’ll get him,” Bull said.

“No.” Tag pointed at Alpha, remembering what the Sovereign had said. “Protect Alpha. Get her back to the Argo. I’ll catch up.”

Before the marines could argue, he flickered back into the transport. The interior was a twisted mess, and flames licked up the sides of the craft. Smoke filled the interior, darker than before.

“Coren!” he cried over the sound of flames.

He saw on his HUD that the marines had listened to him, escorting Alpha closer to the Argo. Flickering in here alone wasn’t the best plan, but they didn’t have time for best plans—or even particularly good ones. All Tag knew was that Alpha had to be protected, and there was no one better at gunning down enemies than the marines. They could fight without him.

“Coren, where are you?”

The fighters screamed in closer for another pass, and Tag saw the flash of lasers exploding through the windows. Two more red bolts tore through the stern of the craft, and the bulkhead gave way. A blinding flash illuminated the cabin, refracting through the haze.

It was then that Tag saw a shape slumped near the front of the cabin, still stuck in the restraints, right next to a hole in the bulkhead where a laser had narrowly missed him. Coren appeared unconscious. Tag grabbed the Mechanic’s shoulders, shaking him vigorously. If he was injured, this was no way to treat him, potentially worsening any broken bones or severed nerves. But making that kind of damage worse was still better than letting him die to a rash of pulsefire.

“Coren, wake up!” Tag yelled, undoing the Mechanic’s restraints.

Still, Coren didn’t move.

Out the window, he saw the fighters rounding through the sky. One had gotten caught in a dogfight with an allied fighter. But the second spun, lasers already glinting as they charged, diving for the transport again.

“Son of a—” Tag started. “Coren!”

The Mechanic didn’t respond. This time, the laser might not miss. They had to leave. And that meant Tag had to carry the Mechanic with him as he jumped.

Tag wasn’t sure how this Luminal flickering technology worked, but he had no choice but to test its limits. He picked up Coren’s limp body, hugging the Mechanic close to his chest, visualizing blinking both him and the alien out of the transport.

He closed his eyes, his body shivering. A moment later he stood outside the transport, his head throbbing and blood trickling out of his nose with the exertion. Lasers screamed into the transport. The craft erupted into a ball of rolling fire. A wave of concussive force knocked Tag forward.

In his arms, he still held the thin, tall body of Coren. Together, they tumbled into the rock.

“Skipper, you okay?” Sofia asked over the comms. “I can come back for you.”

“All good,” Tag said, hoping it wasn’t a lie. “I’ve got Coren, and I’m headed your way now!”

Huge tongues of flame rose above the destroyed transport. Behind them, he saw the ground forces of the Drone-Luminals, now headed their direction. Allied Luminal fighters and forces scattered from the Citadel attempted to intercept, but Tag could see their numbers wouldn’t be nearly enough. All the Luminals could do was buy Tag and his crew more time to rejoin his strike group.

Tag flickered with Coren in his arms, each blink sending them closer to safety. Shor had warned him about jumping too far. Each one was costing him as more blood dripped from his nose. His headache was growing worse. Something wet was dripping from his ears now, too.

But he had no choice. He had to get back to his crew and make sure Coren got to safety. The Argo was within sight. His vision swam slightly after the next jump. He kept going, ignoring the roar of battle behind him, the scream and boom of fighters entering atmo and engaging in a deadly dance with one another.

He flickered again, but this time it was finally too much. When he reappeared, his knees buckled. Coren rolled out onto the ground in front of him. He gasped for air, his lungs burning and his vision going red.

Huge crystalline pillars rose to either side of him. He tried to use one to stand but couldn’t quite make it.

“Sofia, I might need your help,” Tag said, the words sounding distant when he did.

“On it, Skipper,” she said. “The Mechanics are helping prep the Argo for takeoff.”

“Good,” Tag said. “Grand Fury, Commander Brewer, do you read?”

“We read,” Hibino said. “Taking heavy damage. We’re not going to hold on much longer.”

“We’re... we’re almost out of here,” Tag managed, his world going hazy. In the distance, he saw a shape rushing toward him from the Argo, four more shapes following.

Must be Sofia, he thought.

But she wasn’t flickering toward him. That seemed odd, didn’t it? He looked at Coren, still lying in the dirt, black suit covered in dust. He stepped past the Mechanic, toward the incoming shapes. They loomed larger, growing closer. Huge bulking shapes. Taller than Mechanics, wider than the marines.

He looked at his HUD. It showed Sofia and the others were closer to the Argo, but this crew was only a hundred meters from him.

That wasn’t Sofia. The others weren’t his crew.

“What in the three hells?” he muttered, trying to pick up Coren. He had to get them to safety, but when he tried to flicker away, his head screamed at him. His body vanished for a second then reappeared. He was no more than a few centimeters from where he had just been. Flickering wasn’t going to work. Not with his body as damaged as it was.

Instead he took his pistol from its holster, drawing it and stepping past Coren. He advanced toward the incoming people. Close enough now that he could see they wore silver armor unlike any he’d encountered before. They weren’t identified on his HUD. No indicators to let him know if they were friend or foe.

But he didn’t need the indicators. His gut told him all he needed to know.

As they got closer, he drew a bead on them, ready to fire.

They hit him first. A lightning bolt slammed into his suit, electricity pouring through his body. He tried to move but couldn’t. It wasn’t that his muscles had gone rigid but rather that his suit was frozen in place, his HUD blinking off.

Without his HUD, he couldn’t even see if Sofia and the others were anywhere nearby. He tried his comms, but they, too, were dead.

The enemy was nearing, their silver suits glinting with the flash of lasers and fire from the raging battle behind him. Their helmets were silver, too, but as they slowed to look at him, their visors faded, going clear.

Tag’s stomach twisted into a painful knot, a burning ball of dread sucking at his insides.

Their faces were frighteningly familiar. Blue eyes, blue flesh.

The first of the Collectors slammed into Tag, stabbing something into his suit. A cold liquid rushed through his blood vessels, and his body froze from the inside out, his thoughts slowing as he looked up at the Collector.

The Collector’s eyes seemed to lock on his, peering through his mask, an almost pitying look in the post-human’s gaze. Maybe it was the paralytic messing with his mind. Maybe he was just going crazy.

Soon everything around him slowed, his senses fading. All he saw were flashes of light. The Collectors picked him up, running with him, but the pain he’d felt before was now nothing but a fading memory.

He wanted to scream, to fight back, to at least tell his crew what was happening. For the sake of the gods, he wished he could at least fall unconscious. Let his death—and failure—come quickly and without pain. But he felt every moment that passed, slowly bleeding through his mind. All he could see was the sky. The dark sky clotted with fighters and ships blasting into one another, the massive Collector colonization ship hovering above them all like a meteor that had frozen right before striking the planet. Biding its time as it waited to destroy everything below it.

This was yet another planet that would be lost to the Collectors. Another race of sentient beings slaughtered because of the Collectors’ paranoia, their thirst to protect themselves at the cost of all others.

Tag could do nothing but bear silent witness to this full-scale massacre. Until, at last, the freezing liquid pumping through his vessels finally caused his mind to stop.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The gurgle of a stream rolling over rocks tickled Tag’s eardrums. All the pain boiling through his head had been replaced with a cool sense of contentment. He heard the chirp of birds, the flap of their wings as they took flight, and the wind rustling through tree branches. The smells of wet earth and crisp air swirled around him, and slowly he blinked, letting the colors coalesce.

Blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Green grass and rolling hills.

For a moment, he wondered if he was in a camping simulator, just like the ones outside of Old Houston that his father had taken him to. If so, this was the best simulator he’d ever seen.

Maybe he had been reintegrated with the Sovereign somehow, his mind existing on another plane. Another reality.

Or had he died? Was this the first of the heavens, the pathway to the afterlife? Something he’d never given much credence to before, but perhaps he had been wrong.

He stood, his knees shaky. He held his hands in front of his face and rotated them. They seemed real. He probed at his ears and drew away dried blood.

No, this must be reality. But where?

He saw none of the golden pillars of the Luminal planet. No burning fighters or crumbling Citadel.

He squinted, studying his surroundings. A thick forest of trees grew around the small clearing he had found himself in. A stream cut through it, following a gravel pathway shaded by the canopy of trees.

This was everything he dreamed Earth once looked like. He pushed himself to his feet, his limbs heavy and muscles tired.

Patting his sides, he checked for his weapons. But he had no more armor now. No more sidearms. He searched his surroundings for something he might be able to use as a weapon, a rock, a branch, even.

Nothing made sense. All he remembered was the Collectors scooping him up, taking him away.

“Coren?” Tag tried, his voice coming out hoarse. “Coren, where are you?”

No one answered.

He was alone.

His mind whirled. Surely the others had turned back when he had been taken by the Collectors. They would have saved Coren, and, most importantly, gotten Alpha off the Luminal planet. Somewhere they could figure out why the Sovereign thought she was the key to saving all those who had been enslaved by the nanites.

He had to find a way out of this place. Back to his crew, back to his people.

Without any better idea and without any point of navigation in the cloudless sky to lead him, he started down the gravel path beside the stream. Each step pained his muscles, and the throbbing at the back of his skull returned.

He paused in the path, his chest heaving, and then heard another sound.

Boots crunched over the gravel behind him. Before he could spin around to see who it was, he heard a voice call his name.

“Tag?”

Ice chilled Tag’s veins.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be right. The voice he’d heard was so familiar, he was afraid to turn around.

“Tag, that’s you, right?”

Slowly Tag turned. His head throbbed all the while, and he wiped away another trickle of blood seeping from his nostril.

I’m going crazy.

The icy feeling spreading through his limbs numbed him to his core.

“You’re not...” he began, fumbling for words.

Of all the things he had seen since he had begun his first mission with the SRE, all the exotic aliens and foreign planets, harrowing defeats and narrow victories, the sight before him was the last he had ever expected.

“Tag, son, it’s so good to see you,” the man said, walking toward him.

“No, it can’t be you,” Tag said, trying to swallow the horror and disbelief.

The man drew his wrinkled face up in concern. Wisps of gray hair danced in the breeze, and he offered a sympathetic grin that hadn’t changed since Tag was a child. It was the smile his father had offered when he’d fallen and scraped his knees trying to race home or when he’d realized he’d forgotten to do his homework, working late into the night at his holopad with his father by his side, all the while helping him when he ran into problems he didn’t understand.

This was the man who had taken Tag not just on simulated camping trips but also to the space elevators for Tag’s first taste of the universe beyond their cramped and overpopulated Earth. This was the man who had encouraged Tag when he’d first been reassigned in officer school from a commander track to a scientific mission.

“You look frightened,” his father said, reaching out toward him. “Are you all right, son?”

“No, no, Dad, I’m not.” Tag was afraid to touch him. Afraid to break the illusion.

“You recognize me?”

His father grinned again, taking another step closer. “Of course. What kind of question is that?”

“Last time... Last time I saw you...”

Again Tag found it hard to summon the words. Gods, how he’d missed him.

“Dad, last time I saw you, you didn’t even know who I was. You couldn’t feed yourself or get out of bed. None of the meds worked. None of the regen treatments. Your mind was... gone.”

Once again, his father reached out to him. This time Tag grabbed the old man’s hand, feeling his gnarled, swollen knuckles in his grip. They were warm, the flesh almost paperlike. He felt like the same person.

“How did you make it here?” Tag asked.

But before he could finish the question, his father pulled him into an embrace. “Tag, I’ve missed you so much. So very much.”

Tag hugged his father back. He felt a surge of emotions swirling through him, not least of which was confusion coloring all his thoughts.

“What are you doing here, Dad? Is this... real?”

His father pulled away, a tear rolling down the wrinkles over his cheek. “It is. They fixed me, Tag. My mind is back. I can remember everything.”

That was a claim Tag had a hard time believing. “My ninth birthday?”

“When you asked for a holopad of your own?”

“The time we tried fishing in—”

“Buffalo Bayou. But there weren’t actually any fish.” His father started to laugh. “Just trash.”

“And when I tried to cook falafel?”

“The whole kitchen filled with smoke. Your mother never let us cook anything outside the food fabricator again.”

Tag laughed at the memory of the black smoke clotting their living unit, his mother desperately opening the window, trying to fan the smoke out with her holopad and a T-shirt. Slowly the laughing subsided as Tag recalled his mother. The way his parents would smile and tease each other, modeling a relationship he wished he had now.

“I miss Mom too,” he said. “Is she here?”

“Me, too, son. But we’ve got each other still. I see her in you. The confidence now. You’re more like her now than me.” He shook his head. “Commanding a strike group even. Saving the human race. Three hells, am I proud.”

Tag wanted to revel in that praise, to enjoy this moment. A reunion he’d never thought he would experience. But it didn’t sit right.

“How do you know so much?” Tag asked.

“They told me.”

Tag’s mission had been classified. “The SRE told you?”

His father’s face grew gravely serious. His brow furrowed, making the creases in his forehead grow even deeper, the shadows in his wrinkles giving him a dark expression. “No, the SRE didn’t tell me. They couldn’t even help me, Tag.”

The chill returned. “What do you mean they couldn’t help you? I thought you said you were better, that this was real.”

“I am real.” His father put a hand on Tag’s shoulder. “But this isn’t something the SRE was capable of doing. You’re a doctor. A scientist. You know.”

“Then... another race... the Mechanics, maybe? Someone who was in contact with SRE?”

“You know the answer, son. There is only one race with so much knowledge of the human brain. Of sentience and consciousness, for that matter.”

Tag’s mouth went dry. “The Collectors.”

“They saved me. They can save you. They can save all of us.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The world seemed to collapse around him, the entire universe shrinking to a pinhole, squeezing him. His father had met the Collectors. And now they’d brought him to whatever this place was.

His father didn’t seem to notice Tag’s dawning horror. “I know what you’re trying to do. You think you can free those who have been modified with the nanites. But that’s not what you should be doing.”

“Modified with nanites?” Tag asked. “They’ve been enslaved.”

His father’s eyes gleamed as a wet sheen formed over them. “It’s a necessary sacrifice, but I’m evidence of what they can accomplish if people accept what they offer.”

“You... you are aligned with the Collectors now? There’s no way you could’ve made that choice on your own. Not in your state.”

“They brought me back, told me what was at stake, and gave me the choice. A choice that you can make too.”

“It’s not a choice,” Tag said. “They coerced you. They are using you to get at me.”

His father grabbed his shoulder. “They didn’t coerce me. I saw what they’ve accomplished. I’ve seen the technology they’ve developed. It can change our lives and humanity for the better.”

Tag shook his head. “Not at the expense of so many sentient species. Did you see what else they’ve done? Slaughtering billions and enslaving just as many. How can you buy their garbage?”

His father’s smile dropped, his eyes filled with a deep-seated pity.

Tag recognized the physical features of his father, but he didn’t recognize the words coming out of the old man’s mouth. This wasn’t like his father. This wasn’t the man who had taught him to work hard for what he had, to live honestly and serve others. No, his father’s mind hadn’t been right in his later years, but if the Collectors truly had brought him back, there was no way he could have aligned himself with those monsters.

“They infected you,” Tag said. “They didn’t just fix your brain. They changed it. Reprogrammed it like they did everyone else, didn’t they?”

Tag had lost his father a second time. First to the neurodegenerative disease. And now to this.

“I’m not infected,” his father said. “I’m healed. And you can be too.”

Once again, he reached out imploringly, but Tag pushed aside his hand.

“They’ve brainwashed you,” Tag said. “I’ve seen the results of the experiments these monsters have conducted on sentient beings. Innocent people who did nothing wrong other than being born into a race that stood in the Collectors’ way. I can’t believe you’d join their side.”

“Tag, they didn’t just promise my mind back. They promised you back. And now you’re here. They didn’t lie.”

“Where is here?” Tag asked. “And if you’re really here...” He’d been so distracted, he’d ignored the obvious. “They’ve been to Earth. Did we already lose?”

His father shook his head. “There is no losing when the future of humanity is secure.”

Tag took a step backward from his father. The pain in the back of his head roared again. He tried to think about all that must have happened to the SRE fleet in the meantime. The destruction, all the ships laid to waste. The Mechanics, too, and all their other allies.

“No, I don’t believe it,” Tag said. “They didn’t make it to Earth. It’s a lie.”

“Humans have always been on Earth. Collectors are human.”

“What?”

“The Collectors are part of humanity. We should embrace them.”

This was all wrong.

Tag tried to grab his father’s wrist, but when his fingers touched, his father’s forearm turned to dust.

“Tag...” Slowly the rest of his arm turned to dust too. Like a ripple in a lake, his whole body dissolved into gray specks, swimming on the breeze.

“Dad!”

The dense cloud of dust separated then reformed, coalescing into a silver beast. A nano-golem, just like the ones they’d fought on Ezekiel’s colonization ship.

The monster loomed above Tag, its arms morphing into a pair of scythes. Tag tried to step back from it, but the beast took a step forward, slashing out with both arms. The blades stopped centimeters from his flesh, encircling his neck. He held his breath, fearing that if he so much as inhaled, the movement would set the golem off.

Plodding footsteps sounded from behind. The golem withdrew its blades. Tag took a step back, and he turned to see the new arrival.

In front of him stood a Collector with long, dark hair. All three eyes locked on his, her face filled with concern. Her arms were bare, and he recognized the long dragon tattoo tracing up one. A rush of memories poured through him at the sight. He’d nearly been fooled by this woman on Orthod. He had thought she had shared a vision of the future like him.

But she had made it clear any illusion he’d harbored about a shared future was just that.

“Hannah Baker,” he said. “What did they do to you?”

“Everything we were promised,” she said, her voice at once deep and high, a harmonious collection of sounds that overwhelmed him. Somewhere in there, he detected the human voice he recalled from Orthod. The one that had told him to “be the dragon” and embrace change.

“Last time I saw you, you were still human,” Tag said. “A scientist, like me.”

“I was weak. I told you, we needed to learn to evolve,” she said. “If people won’t choose to evolve, we’ll help them.”

“Force them,” Tag corrected.

“We’ll do what must be done for the security of the human race,” she said.

Those words sounded eerily like the last words his father had spoken.

“My dad,” Tag said. “How did you do that?”

“Nothing but a memory extract,” she said. “The same kind of technology we use in the people we save using our nanites.”

“You aren’t saving anyone.”

Hannah took a couple steps forward, her shadow swallowing him. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. Their minds, their souls are preserved in perfect copies within the nanite network. They will last far longer than their physical bodies. Those bodies are nothing but temporary vessels, no different than the generation ships that transported the original post-humans across the galaxy. And now, those post-humans will never be forgotten.”

“Have you already enslaved my father?” Tag asked, wondering what had become of all the others still stranded on Earth.

“No, not yet,” Hannah said. “The visualization of your father was an amalgamation of memories we extracted from when the nanites infected you and your crew on Ezekiel’s colonization ship, along with those records stored within databases on the SRE government net.”

“You haven’t been to Earth,” Tag said. There was no use tiptoeing around the issue.

“We’re on our way,” Hannah said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Whether you like it or not, whatever you try to do on this planet, we’ve already saved humanity. A Nanite Node is on its way to Earth, and after that, the SRE will be completely assimilated into the Post-Human Collective.”

“A Nanite Node? What is that?”

“Victory. The Node connects to the entire nanite network—it gives us access to control our empire. And it is equipped to disburse nanites over planets like Earth, bringing them into our fold.”

“You can’t do this.” Tag looked around, desperate for some way to escape. Even if he ran now, he had no doubt the creature who had impersonated his father wasn’t the only nano-golem lurking around here. Without so much as a plasma blade, he had no way to fight them off.

“We can, and we will,” Hannah said.

“Then why did you drag me in here? Why not just kill me?”

He needed to buy time to figure something out. Maybe get her guard down. The nano-golem loomed behind him, but he saw the sidearm in Hannah’s holster, a weapon he might use against her if he got the chance.

“I need a favor from you,” she said. “You’ve made all this much harder than it has to be.”

“Why would I do you a favor?”

“You and I want the same thing. We want to help humanity. You’ve already accomplished so much. Think about what you could do with the support of the Collective behind you.”

Tag scoffed. “I’ll never join a tyrannical government full of mass-murderers and slave drivers.”

“I had hoped to change your mind,” she said. “You’ve seen the Luminals. You’ve seen their technology.”

“I did. They showed me what the Collectors did to them. Have you seen how the Luminals tried to approach them peacefully? Did you know they had attempted diplomatic negotiations to stop the Collectors’ genocide?”

“They asked you to integrate with the Sovereign, didn’t they?” Hannah asked.

Tag’s stomach lurched, but he said nothing.

Hannah sighed, then gave him a look like she was a professor disappointed in her student’s answer. “Of course they did. You accuse the Collective of brainwashing their followers, and you volunteer to let them into your mind. You believe everything they said?”

Tag thought about Coren’s skepticism. The Mechanic had never trusted the Luminals, and perhaps he’d been right. Tag’s head hurt so damn bad, he could barely think straight, let alone find a way out of this nightmare.

“Even if they’re evil as you claim, even if they’re terrible people intent on slaughtering humanity, they didn’t do what the Collectors have done to so many others,” Tag said, trying to hold onto the thread of thought. He still wasn’t sure if maybe Hannah had a point. If maybe the Luminals needed to be defeated. But he had seen what had happened to the Citadel. “Whether or not the Luminals are as bad as you say they are, the Collectors have already defeated them. They’re no longer a threat—but the Collectors are.”

“Tag, look around you,” she said. “Aren’t you tired of living on the run? Living in an overcrowded civilization? You remember what it was like on Earth.” She waved a hand to indicate the idyllic world around them. “Unlike your father, this isn’t a simulation. This is just one pastoral zone on a single colonization ship. Imagine entire planets like this. Planets where you have room to run through the woods. Where you aren’t stepping over people and trash when you want to just go for a walk. Remember how beautiful everything was on Orthod?”

Tag’s eyes dipped to her sidearm. He took a step closer, and she didn’t seem to notice.

“There’s a reason people leave the SRE and try to make a life for themselves on a new world,” Hannah said. “We can still preserve the native lifeforms of planets and find ways for humans to live among them. We can spread comfortably through the galaxy instead of allowing artificial constraints to restrict our expansion.”

“Artificial constraints? You’re talking about the lives of other sentient species. They have every right we do to interstellar life.”

“I used to think the same,” Hannah said. “But I saw how life competed on the fringes of the galaxy. Everything from bacteria to more advanced lifeforms, including sentient beings, always fighting for survival. Life is a constant competition. If we do not push ourselves forward, then we’ll be destroyed. Like when the Collective first confronted the Luminals, we cannot stand on our own two legs when the winds we face are stronger than a solar flare.”

“You’re mistaken,” Tag said. “I’ve stood side by side with other species. The Melarrey, the Mechanics, Raktor, Imoogi, and even the Luminals. Together we can advance our collective technology and stand against universal threats.” Tag narrowed his eyes. “Threats like the Collectors.”

Hannah blew out a long breath and then turned slightly as if to walk away. Tag was losing his chance to steal her firearm.

“Then, Commander Tag Brewer, maybe if you will not join us, after all these chances I’ve given you, prove to me you’re right. Prove species work better together. Prove we can work together.”

“What do you mean?” Tag asked. When he walked toward her, the nano-golem followed, its scythe-like arms cocked, ready to slice through him.

“Call your strike group off,” she said. “You can spare the lives of your crew, and we can get the colonization of the Luminal planet over with faster.”

“No, I won’t do that.”

“You will,” Hannah said. “The Luminals have already lost, just like you said. There’s no point prolonging the inevitable. And after that, you must tell Admiral Doran to withdraw her fleet. Send them back to Earth to surrender.”

“Why in the three hells would I do that?” Tag asked.

Hannah pulled out her sidearm, aiming at Tag.

“Go ahead,” Tag said. “You’ll gain nothing, and my people will destroy you.”

“Step aside.” Hannah waved her pistol at the nano-golem behind him.

Tag twisted to watch the surface of the beast ripple, the nanites rippling as if a leviathan were surfacing from the ocean. The nanites parted to reveal Coren. Tendrils of silver particles wrapped around his arms and legs as the golem stepped back. It grabbed Coren’s arm, holding him up before Tag and Hannah.

“If you won’t call on your people to save yourself, do it for him,” she said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Coren’s head lolled on his neck, the thin black fur rustling in the breeze. His good golden eye opened slowly.

“Tag.” He coughed. “Don’t do anything too human...”

Coren hadn’t escaped after all. Tag had saved him only for them both to face death at Hannah’s hand aboard the Collector ship.

He wanted to yell at the newly made Collector, order her to let the Mechanic go. Plead with her. Bargain for Coren’s life. But of course that was exactly what she wanted.

Hannah took a step forward, leveling the weapon at Coren. The nano-golem held him in place.

“Call off your strike team, then send a message to the Montenegro,” Hannah said. “Tell them to surrender.”

Her forefinger tapped a button on the side of the pistol. It hummed to life.

Tag wanted more than anything to save Coren. He’d risked his life to get him off the Luminal planet. And though his emotions pulled at him, he knew Coren was right this time. Cold, hard logic had to defeat emotional, human thought.

“Fine,” Tag said. “Kill him.”

Please, let her be bluffing.

Her head whipped around to look at Tag. “I thought I was talking to the same old idealistic Captain Brewer from Orthod, but I guess I was wrong. You’ve made this far more difficult than I wanted it to be.” She shook her head then spoke into her comm unit. “Adriel, I need you.”

A loud hum filled the massive chamber. Ports opened in the simulated sky, releasing dark-gray clouds that descended toward the grass-covered ground. They coalesced into more nano-golems, surrounding Tag and Coren. He counted at least twenty of the beasts, their limbs forming all manner of primitive weapons, ready to pulverize bone and cut flesh if either of them made a threatening move.

“Remember that I gave you a chance,” Hannah said.

She retreated behind the line of golems. As she disappeared into the woods, the golems parted, allowing a massive male Collector to stride toward the center of the ring. His footsteps shook the ground. Adriel was even bigger than Hannah or Ezekiel.

His three eyes all focused on Tag, and his muscles pressed against his thin nanite-laden armor.

Adriel pointed at Tag, his voice booming when he spoke. “You’ve been very uncooperative. Let me help you learn how to cooperate better.”

Tag stared up, defiance filling him. He would never give in to this monster. “No.”

Marching up to Tag, Adriel took a swing, and his fist slammed into Tag’s chest. Tag flew into a tree trunk, head cracking painfully against the bark. He clung desperately to consciousness, vision fading.

Adriel strode toward the golem holding Coren. He wrapped his massive fingers around the Mechanic and yanked him from the nano-golem’s grip, tightening until Tag could hear the audible crack of bone.

Coren cried out, agony filling his voice.

“Stop!” Tag yelled.

“Call off your fleet!” Adriel roared. “The SRE will be part of the Collective soon. All you’re doing now is causing your friend unnecessary pain. Call off your fleet!”

The words pounded against Tag’s eardrums. He pushed himself to his feet. Two nearby nano-golems moved toward him, the scrape of metal against metal sounding when they drew back their arms, ready to impale him.

“Don’t do it,” Coren said through gritted teeth.

Adriel lifted Coren higher with one hand. With another hand, he signaled to a nano-golem. The creature dissolved into a cloud of individual particles, all surrounding Coren like a swarm of locusts.

Coren screamed. The particles rushed around his body, and thousands of small lacerations formed in his flesh, each shining in crimson.

With a snap of Adriel’s fingers, the nanites stopped, forming into a nano-golem again. Blood wept from every small cut across Coren’s body, dripping from his nostrils and the ear-like holes in the side of his head too.

Coren’s lips parted in a demonic grin. Tag had rarely seen the Mechanic show so much emotion, and it seemed as though he would not get another chance to do so in the future.

“Is that the best... you can do?” Coren asked. “I always knew human technology was inferior to ours, and you Collectors are nothing but fancy primates.”

That seemed to enrage Adriel. The monstrous alien directed the nanites to savage Coren again. The Mechanic yelled, his voice loud enough Tag felt his insides tearing. He wanted desperately to tell Adriel to make it stop, to leave his friend alone.

But he recalled that look in Coren’s face. The words he’d said. Saving Coren now could cost the human race and the Mechanics their salvation from the impending Collectors’ attack.

He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the screams. There had to be a way. What was he missing? What was the solution?

Coren’s screams muddled his thoughts, making it hard to come up with a plan. But maybe Tag didn’t need a plan. Adriel seemed completely enraptured by the torture. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic glee that sickened Tag. When Coren went unconscious from the pain, Adriel manipulated the nanites to wake the Mechanic back up, forcing him to endure the agony anew.

Tag stepped toward the Collector and Coren. Adriel didn’t even acknowledge him. The nano-golems were still shadowing him, but they wouldn’t act unless the Collector commanded them to. Just like Hannah, Adriel had a gun at his side. But going after it would be suicide.

No, the solution wasn’t in this room. Not in this artificial forest or the nano-golems gathered around Adriel and Coren.

In Tag’s mind’s eye, he saw the storerooms and armories, along with all the vessels that had been docked on the first colonization ship he’d seen. If he could just reach a single weapon, a single ship, he—

A sudden boom resonated through the ship. Distant explosions roared somewhere else within the ship, and Tag froze. Adriel snarled, looking away from Coren for a moment. The nanites stopped their torture, falling into a silver puddle on the grass. Coren dropped to the ground, his chest heaving, his single eye closed.

“Hannah, what’s going on?” Adriel asked over his comms. He glared around at the nano-golems as more explosions rocked the ship. Tag couldn’t hear Hannah’s reply, but Adriel didn’t seem to like it. The nano-golems started to quiver, falling apart then reforming.

Tag had no idea what was going on, but this might be his only chance. He raced toward Coren, scooping the Mechanic up in his arms for the second time that day, and sprinted away. Adriel yelled, his voice booming nearly as loud as the explosions. Panels in the ceiling burst into sprays of sparks, patches of the blue sky disappearing.

Adriel’s footsteps followed Tag as he dodged between the trees, rushing toward the inevitable end of the forest. The nano-golems formed sporadically, taking haphazard strikes at him before breaking into clouds of particles again. Something was clearly wrong with them. But even if they were temporarily disabled, Adriel was not.

“Stop!” the Collector bellowed.

Blasts from the post-human’s weapon chiseled through the trees. Bark sprayed over Tag. Fires bloomed where the plasma hit, and smoke began to fill the air behind him. Adriel never let up, his footsteps shaking the ground.

Tag broke through the edge of the forest. Rows of crops lay ahead. Just beyond them was a hatch. He had to make it there and into the corridor beyond. Then maybe he could find a weapon.

As he started running through the crops, their leaves scratching his skin, pain throbbing through his joints and head, he finally stole a glance behind him. Adriel was closing in, all three eyes filled with rage. He fired at Tag again. Bolts of energy coursed toward him. Tag ducked low, trying desperately to remain out of sight.

But for every two steps he took, Adriel only had to take one.

“You have already lost,” Adriel said.

Not yet, I haven’t, thought Tag, clinging to the hope of escape. Just one step at a time. That was all he had to do. One step then the next. Survive for just another thirty seconds, then he could worry about what came after.

But before he made it out of the crops, before he lasted those next thirty seconds, the hatch opened. Dozens of figures poured out, each aiming weapons in his direction.

They opened fire.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Plasma rounds and kinetic slugs whooshed past Tag. He threw himself and Coren to the ground, trying to find shelter among the plants. With the sheer volume of rounds filling the air, he expected pain to blossom at any moment, blood to pour from his chest.

But he and Coren had managed to dodge out of the way unscathed.

The blaze of fire continued overhead until Tag heard an agonizing scream of pain. And then, at last, it stopped.

No more slashing gunfire. No more cries of pain. Just the crackle of fire burning through this fake paradise. The sounds of footsteps closed in on his position, and he scooped Coren up again, ready to run. But before he made it more than a couple of steps, shapes flickered into existence around him. They wore golden armor, faces vacant.

Luminals. Or at least, they looked like Luminals.

They could be just as much of a facsimile as his father had been, the Collectors once again playing a trick on his mind. But in the distance, he saw the nano-golems still quivering, forming and falling apart, caught in their infinite loop of malfunction.

One of the Luminals stepped forward, its armor battle-scarred and blackened, nothing like the gleaming armor of his compatriots.

“Tag, you need to come with us,” the Luminal said in a familiar voice.

Tag hesitated, unwilling to believe it. This had to be a trap. Coren’s life was literally in his hands. He had to decide quickly.

“You died in the Citadel, Shor,” Tag said.

Shor spoke again, this time more urgently. “By the holy light, did you see me die, Commander Brewer? I’m very much still alive, but maybe not for much longer. Not if we don’t get out of here.”

The nano-golems fell apart once more, but this time, Tag noticed they didn’t freeze like before. They were starting to advance in shaky steps. Some of their limbs fell apart or holes formed in their body as particles drifted away, but just as quickly, the nano-golems seemed to repair themselves.

Whatever had disrupted their programming was losing its grip. Tag wasn’t the only one to have noticed.

“We need to leave now,” Shor said. It gestured to two of its comrades, who advanced from the group. They handed over Tag and Coren’s EVA suits. “We’ve got to flicker out.”

The nano-golems continued their advance as another symphony of explosions rocked the ship. Panels from the ceiling gave way, tearing apart more of the simulated sky, even as nanites swirled in an attempt to repair the ongoing damage. Plumes of dark smoke filled the vast chamber.

The odor of charred wood and burning plastic faded when Tag snapped his helmet on. A pair of Luminals helped Coren into his armor.

“He can’t use this tech if he’s unconscious,” Tag said as they clasped Coren’s armor into place.

“He just needs to be able to breathe in space,” Shor said.

“What?” Tag asked.

The nano-golems were now in a full-on sprint, weapons cocked, ready for slaughter. Rounds exploded from the Luminals’ weapons, but the monsters continued. Somewhere beneath their swarming masses, Tag saw flashes of blue, Adriel’s limp body. That meant either Hannah or another Collector was still commanding the nano-golems.

The Collector ship and its fleet of enslaved spacecraft weren’t yet out of the fight.

“Follow us,” Shor said. “Your HUD will lead you.”

One of the Luminals held Coren, and in a blink, they all disappeared. On Tag’s HUD, he watched them reappear somewhere in the corridors beyond this chamber. The nano-golems were meters from his position now, their weapons slicing toward him. He had no idea what he was about to jump into.

All he hoped was that it was better than the blades scything toward his head.

He flickered out into the corridor. As soon as he reemerged, he was surrounded by a crush of Luminals. They fired into nano-golems descending on either side. Tag saw one Luminal still holding onto Coren.

“Again!” Shor yelled over the din of battle.

They flickered into a room filed with massive industrial equipment, molten metal flowing like rivers of magma through troughs. The temperature was sweltering, and Tag’s suit went into overdrive, protecting him from the immense change in heat. Even as the group reassembled between the huge contraptions, more nano-golems formed, pouring from the particles shifting out of ducts and from ports in the bulkhead.

They flickered away again.

Scene after scene flashed by as the Luminals regrouped, fought, and blinked in and out of existence, fighting constantly toward the edges of the massive ship.

Finally, they arrived in a docking bay. Most of the space was empty of ships besides a few freighters. Spiderlike machines crawled about the huge room. Some clambered over docked ships, looking as if they were fixing battle damage. Others turned their attention to the crew that had suddenly appeared in their midst. Turrets mounted on top of them began firing.

“To the bay doors,” Shor yelled. “Then outside. We’re losing control of their null shields.”

Tag sprinted and flickered across the wide space. The colonization ship continued to shake with each blast rattling through its core. The spiderlike machines let loose a barrage of fire that singed the deck. Molten metal splashed around the group. One of the Luminals went down, his body erupting into flames.

They were almost to the bay doors. A few had already made it; they flickered outside. Tag presumed they had leapt into a ship waiting for them.

His lungs heaved as he ran. Nano-golems filtered into the space, appearing from cracks in the bulkhead and deck, attacking even as they formed. A group of Luminals waited at the outer bulkhead. Their weapons tore into the enemy forces. But they were no match for the monsters bearing down on them. Yet none flickered away, even as the spiderlike things leveled a pair of the aliens.

They were all waiting on Tag. Waiting on him to make the jump outside. But each stride was getting more difficult.

“Don’t wait on me!” he bellowed. “Go, now!”

“No,” Shor said. “You must leave with us.”

He was almost to the outer bulkhead, meters from making a jump that would take him to the first group of Luminals already outside the ship. Before he could reach it, a giant mechanical spider dropped from the ceiling directly in front of him. Its metal legs clicked and whirred as it scuttled toward him. Long appendages held tools fit for repairing a spaceship—and even better suited for tearing a human body apart.

The turret atop the spider unleashed a salvo of fire.

Tag immediately dove, sliding toward the spider. Rounds crashed into the deck behind him, leaving searing holes. He got to his feet again, sprinting under the mechanical beast’s legs just as its front appendages came sweeping down, unleashing the power of a plasma torch and drills, centimeters from tearing into his suit.

As soon as he cleared the spider, he flickered. This time not to another patch of the docking bay but farther beyond. The jump took all his strength, all his willpower.

He reappeared outside the ship, his lungs burning now and his skull throbbing in pain. He thought he had targeted Shor’s group. Instead, he was floating listless in the middle of space.

The silent dance of the battle continued around him. Explosions bloomed in the distance. Ships raced at one another. Fighters tore apart into clouds of dust and debris. Plasma vented from wrecked vessels as they split into pieces, destroyed by incoming salvos of powerful weapons.

For a moment, he thought about turning back. Maybe he could buy just enough time to recalculate his jump and find where the others had gone. But as he rotated in space, he saw they were, in fact, all around him. The Luminals that had survived, along with Coren. They were as helpless as him, even as enemy fighters rushed toward their position. They were nothing but pieces of space flotsam, useless and defenseless.

And soon, they’d be dead.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“What now?” Tag asked over the comms, rotating to see Shor nearby.

The lead Luminal was in the middle of the group. It looked poised, unconcerned.

“We wait,” it said.

“How long?” Tag asked. “They’ll kill us.”

“Tracking us in the middle of all this wreckage will be exceedingly difficult. Have a little faith.”

Tag wondered what good faith was to a being who had lost its planet. He wanted to demand why Shor had risked its life and those of all its people to save Tag and Coren, only to die in the cold vacuum of space.

A sudden explosion of gold broke Tag from his thoughts.

The remaining Luminal transport ship appeared next to them.

“In!” Shor yelled. Tag needed no urging.

He and the Luminals reappeared inside the vessel. Some collapsed into jumpseats, their armor damaged and their normal golden hues appearing almost white. Tag looked between them until he saw Coren, already secured into a seat with two Luminals next to him. It was only then that Tag allowed himself to crash into one of the seats. Through the crystalline hull, he watched the destruction surrounding the Collector colonization ship fade as they sped away, jumping between defense cannon fire and blazing bolts of energy rounds.

Shor took a seat next to him.

“How?” Tag managed through his pain.

Shor seemed to understand. “Before fading completely, the Sovereign told me it wasn’t just Alpha who was the key. I would have gladly died there, fighting to defend the Citadel with my last breath, but you must survive too.”

“Me?”

Shor nodded. “I don’t understand yet, either, but I trust in the Sovereign’s last true words.”

For a moment, silence passed between them.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened,” Tag said. “Your people, your planet.”

“Yes,” Shor said as they flickered between enemy fighters beating on an intercept course. “But I know that we will be victorious. You and Alpha will lead us to redemption.”

“I will do everything in my power to avenge your people and mine. But first I need to get back to my fleet.”

“That’s exactly where we’re headed,” Shor said. “When your Argo was airborne, your crew organized the evacuation of our ships. Many of our vessels are already within the Grand Fury. The destroyers and escort ships we still have left have joined your group. We are ready to follow you until the end.”

As he spoke, other vessels appeared alongside the transport. Even through the slightly distorted window the crystalline hull offered, he could see that it was a jagged vessel with nests of cannons and guns. It was unlike the vessels of any species he recognized.

“We need to evade!” Tag cried.

Shor shook its head. “Those are allies. They answered your call for aid.”

It took him a moment to remember through his pain how he had put out a call for assistance to all his distant allies back when they’d started this mission. But these ships weren’t from the Melarrey or Mechanics. “Who are they?”

“They call themselves Raktor,” Shor said. “Strange beings.”

“Raktor?” Tag felt a bubble of optimism. The plantlike creatures with the capability of integrating with computer systems and electronics. He had encountered the first Raktor on the UNS Hope station. It had charged him with taking care of one of its seedlings, and Tag had made good on his promise, eventually allowing that smaller Raktor to have its own ship. “I never thought I’d see one of them again.”

One of the Luminals opened a small metal container it was carrying, revealing a small green plantlike creature with whipping vines.

“This one helped us,” Shor said, indicating the Raktor. “They promised us they could temporarily disable the defenses of the Collector ship, including the null shield. They certainly made good on that promise.”

“Yes, they did,” Tag said, now understanding how the nano-golems had been disrupted. “They learned how to access the Collector’s defensive networks on another colonization ship that my crew infiltrated.”

“Amazing,” Shor said. “This is why the Sovereign chose you and Alpha. The feats you’ve accomplished...”

“None of it will matter if we don’t stop the Collectors,” Tag said. “Can you send a message of thanks for me to the Raktor vessels?”

“Of course,” Shor said. “In fact, I can patch your comms directly into their channels.”

“Yes, please do,” Tag said. He didn’t have time for long speeches or extended conversations. They were rapidly approaching the space where his fleet was holding out, having retreated outside the concealment shields over the Luminals’ planet.

“Raktor, this is Commander Tag Brewer.”

“We are glad to hear your voice, Commander Brewer. We have brought new seedlings with new ships.”

“Thank you for your help. I owe you.”

“You owe us nothing. The gift of our ship, the Peace of Spring, indebts me to you. Without it, we would not have seedlings to assist you in infiltrating the Collectors’ networks.”

“So they learned like you did?”

“They did not have to. Their skills are our skills, passed between seedlings within our very genes.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you by our side,” Tag said to the parent Raktor. “You’ve done a very kind thing.”

“Raktor is pleased to do so. We dislike these Collectors very much. They do too many unkind things to too many of our friends and to us. We are ready to help you stop them from doing these unkind things.”

“We’re almost at the Argo,” Shor said. “We will unload you and Coren, then I will rejoin the rest of my fleet around the Grand Fury.”

“Of course,” Tag said, standing as the transport vessel slowed. “Now that the Sovereign is gone, who should I coordinate our efforts with?”

“Until the Sovereign reveals himself to us again, I’ve assumed responsibility for our people,” Shor said.

Tag held out a hand.

Shor looked at it, uncertain for a second, then took it in his own.

They shook hands. The glow of the battle behind them was growing weaker. The Collector ships had defeated all the crafts that hadn’t retreated. The Luminals’ planet was now theirs.

“I look forward to working together,” Tag said. “Here’s to a better future. To ending this slaughter.”

“Those are words I can believe in, Commander.”

With that, Tag wrapped Coren in his arms, nodded a final farewell to Shor, and flickered from the transport into the Argo.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The marines met Tag in the cargo bay as soon as he appeared with Coren in his arms.

“Commander, it’s a damn pleasure to see you,” Bull said.

“You as well,” Tag said. “But we’ve got to hurry. Take Coren to the med bay. I’ve got to get to the bridge.”

“Yes, sir,” Bull said. He and Gorenado took the unconscious Mechanic, rushing out into the corridor.

Tag followed then split off toward the bridge. As he ran, he made a call over his comms.

“Captain Hibino, recall all fighter squadrons,” he said. “Strike group, prepare for immediate hyperspace transition. Destination Earth.”

The captains responded with affirmatives, but he could tell, even in their curt answers, that they wanted to know more.

“Once we’re en route, we’ll reconvene via holo,” Tag said. “For now, focus on getting everyone to safety, including the Luminals and Raktor.”

He rushed into the bridge and straight to his crash couch. Alpha and Sofia were already at their stations.

“Coren?” Sofia asked.

“He’s alive but hurt,” Tag said. “Alpha, calculate a jump into Earth’s solar system. Share the route with the rest of the fleet. That includes our new allies.”

“Understood, sir,” Alpha said.

Tag dialed an encrypted private channel to Captain Singh of the Broadsword. Hibino had mentioned that his ship had suffered a contained fusion reactor failure. “Captain Singh, is your ship capable of making the transition?”

The Argo’s T-drive was already spooling, its hum filling the bridge. Across the holomap of the Luminal star system, Tag watched the swarm of vessels that had been circling the two Collector colonization ships accelerate toward the strike group. Now that the planet was entirely theirs, they were turning all their forces to the remnants of Tag’s team.

“Yes, Commander,” Singh replied, sounding out of breath. “We took heavy damage, but we can survive the transition. Hibino has tethered us to the Grand Fury to ensure our failed reactor doesn’t hold us back.”

“Good,” Tag said. “Alpha, how long until we can transition?”

“Three minutes,” she replied.

The weapons station sat empty, and the enemy forces were drawing closer. Already the holomap reported incoming missiles rocketing toward them, and through the bridge’s viewscreen, Tag could see the spark of charging plasma cannons and other weapons.

“Sofia, engage evasive maneuvers,” Tag said. “Shield status?”

“Sixty-eight percent,” Alpha said. “I am drawing power from the shields to accelerate spooling.”

“Good,” Tag said. “We’re not transitioning until every ship in this fleet is ready. Show me the status of their T-drives.”

A list of the SRE ships, along with the new Luminal and Raktor ships, appeared floating in front of Tag. As expected, the slowest to spool was Singh’s Broadsword. At least it would be towed by the Grand Fury, but they still would need to activate their drives together.

“All ships, permission to transition as soon you’re ready,” Tag said over the open channel. “Do not wait on me. If all else fails, your objective is stopping the Collectors before they conquer Earth.”

A few of the Luminals began transitioning, needing no further encouragement. Tag wasn’t surprised by their swift departure. After everything they had endured, they were probably anxious to save as many lives as possible. One only Luminal ship was left, labeled the Revenant, which was commanded by Shor. Tag saw the Revenant’s version of a T-drive had been spooled and ready to go for a minute now, but he wasn’t surprised to see Shor waiting. The alien truly believed Tag and Alpha were the last hopes for free civilization in the galaxy.

Gods, I hope he’s wrong, Tag said. If the universe is depending on us...

He shook the thoughts aside. He needed to save the fleet before he could save the universe.

Several missiles streaked toward the Grand Fury and the Broadsword.

“Sofia, get us in position to defend the Broadsword,” Tag said. “Alpha, give me weapons control.”

The Argo accelerated, the heavy force of gravity pulling at Tag’s insides until the inertial dampeners compensated for the rapid change. Tag targeted the missiles, using the trajectories that the computer spit out for him, along with a bit of gut instinct. He launched anti-missile rounds that speared away from the Argo, joining the defensive fire of the Revenant, Grand Fury, and Broadsword.

All the other ships had successfully transitioned, blinking out of existence and racing through hyperspace. They just needed to hold on another thirty seconds.

Energy rounds crashed against them, making the shields glow brilliantly as the shield absorbed them. The first few anti-missile rounds reached the cloud of incoming missiles. Tag watched a few missiles disappear on the HUD. Others continued past, accelerating as they drew nearer, their ramjets sending them forward at full speed.

Tag let loose on the point-defense cannons, spraying depleted uranium rounds into the incoming missiles. Beads of pearly orange fire cut through the black. Soon two more of the missiles vanished, leaving only one.

A lump formed in Tag’s throat as he waited to see if it would slam into the Broadsword’s hull, ending yet another ship in his strike group.

But a message called over his comms first.

“T-Drive ready,” Singh said.

“Execute, all,” Tag said.

The Grand Fury and Broadsword lurched forward then disappeared.

A sudden shift in acceleration plastered Tag against his crash couch. His body felt as though it had grown a hundred times heavier in an instant, until the dampeners once again took over. Waves of green and purple plasma coursed over the viewscreen as Tag’s insides relaxed.

“Transition successful,” Alpha said.

Tag looked at the viewscreen, waiting for one more ship to join them. His fingers curled into a fist. He hadn’t known Shor or the Luminals long, but after all they had done for him, he found himself praying they would blip into existence next. He couldn’t imagine carrying forward with this mission without knowing what had happened to them. The alien had been willing to sacrifice its life to ensure Tag and Alpha’s survival—but Tag much preferred that they all live.

When a final ship finally made the transition behind them, Tag let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the gods,” Tag said. “Shor made it.”

But seeing the Luminal ship transition was a stark reminder of all this brief skirmish had cost them. They had lost so many of their own, from engineers and gunners on the damaged ships in his own strike group, and the Luminals had nearly become extinct in a matter of hours.

Tag started to wonder if this trip had been worth it. They hadn’t discovered the cure to the Drones. And the damage they had inflicted on the Collectors was at best a distraction.

The only thing they learned was that the Collectors were headed for Earth.

But maybe Shor and the Sovereign were right. It was time for Tag to have a little faith. His group’s bravery had saved thousands of Luminal lives that might not otherwise have escaped the planet, and now they had a chance to stop the Collectors.

“Alpha, send encrypted grav wave comms to all known SRE positions that can receive them,” Tag said. “If they can’t receive grav wave comms, send courier drones. Warn them that the Collectors are headed for Earth.”

“Commander,” Alpha said hesitantly, “I will do as you ask, but I am worried that the Collectors’ collaborators within the SRE fleet may intercept this message. After what they did to the Ironsights, there may still be informants within our own strike group that will warn the Collectors.”

Tag undid his restraints and stood from his crash couch. “The bastards already know we’re expecting them on Earth. They told me as much on that colonization ship.”

Sofia stepped out of her own crash couch. “And don’t forget, Alpha, those Collectors are smug sons of bitches. They don’t care whether we know or not. They just sent an entire strike group fleeing into the stars. They already think Earth is theirs—that we’re too weak, even if we try to prepare for their attack.”

“I see,” Alpha said. “But how do we know that they are wrong?”

Tag mustered every bit of confidence he had in himself. “Because we aren’t defeated yet. Because we’re still alive, and we’ve got allies headed straight to Earth with us.”

Sofia smirked. “And what’s our plan, Skipper?”

“Thankfully, we’ve got some time to come up with one,” Tag said, offering a smile in return. “Call the other captains and tell them we’re meeting via holo in one hour. Prep the conference room. I’m going to check on Coren.”

“I’ll go with,” Sofia said.

Together they exited the bridge, marching along in the corridors. It wasn’t just his small crew filling the ship. A few Luminals and all of Bracken’s people were here, too. It was the most packed Tag had seen the ship since he started out on his initial research mission to Eta-Five what seemed like ages ago.

“You really think we can take the Collectors?” Sofia whispered as they rounded a corridor.

“I have no idea,” Tag said. “But if we don’t try, we’ve already lost anyway.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Coren’s thin body floated in blue fluid. Tag pressed his palm against the warm polyglass stasis chamber. Lucky sat patiently at the foot of the stasis chamber, looking up at Coren.

“I know, girl,” Tag said. “But he’ll be out soon.”

Sofia grinned. “You know, he would absolutely hate the idea that we’re saving his life with human tech.”

A Mechanic wearing three white bands around her arm joined them. She was a medical officer named L’Orent who had survived the Stalwart’s destruction and was one of the many Mechanics reassigned to the Argo.

“Well, of course he has no choice,” L’Orent said. “The Stalwart is completely gone, and at least he has me to look after him. I’ll make do with your primitive technologies.” L’Orent shot Lucky a disapproving look. “This creature should not be in the med bay.”

Lucky’s nose wrinkled into a snarl.

“She’s harmless,” Tag said.

Lucky narrowed her eyes at Tag as if in disagreement.

“How long before he’s out?”

“Most of the wounds are superficial,” she said. “However, lacerations cover every centimeter of skin, and he lost a great deal of blood. I imagine by the end of the day, ship time, he’ll be released. He will be in pain from the nerve damage, but I don’t anticipate any other lasting side effects besides normal scar tissue formation.”

“Eh, he was already ugly,” Sofia said. “A few more scars won’t hurt.”

L’Orent’s golden eyes widened. “He will have far more than a few scars, and they will indeed hurt as they heal.”

“Ah, yes, of course, my mistake,” Sofia said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

The Mechanic predictably didn’t catch on. “I’m not surprised. Human medical education, as far as I can tell, is grossly simplified.”

At that, Tag wanted desperately to roll his eyes, but instead he ushered Sofia out into the corridor. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a coffee before we talk to all the others.”

“Sounds great,” Sofia said. They started off down the corridor together. “Sure you’re doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Tag said. His head still throbbed, and his joints were stiff, muscles protesting. There was no time to slow down now, though. The fate of Earth depended on their action. “Just a little bruised.”

“That Luminal flickering tech really does a number on your body, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“I won’t deny that,” Tag said.

A group of Mechanics marching through the hall split to allow him and Sofia past. Tag led Sofia to the mess, Lucky right on their heels. They ordered coffees from the food fab machines. The thought of getting something more substantial crossed his mind; he needed the calories, certainly, but he was still too shaken up by everything that had happened. Even a cup of coffee seemed to be a bit too much when he sat down with Sofia.

“So,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Earth, huh? What happened on that Collector ship?”

Tag told her everything. How he’d been abducted and taken aboard their ship. How they had used his harvested memories to create a simulacrum of his father and tried to convert him to their side.

“That Dr. Baker chick is relentless,” Sofia said. “Must have a thing for you.”

Tag laughed. “That’s what you get out of this?”

“I’m just saying, she let you live. Twice. She could’ve had you killed, but instead she went through all that effort to convince you to join her. I mean, what do you expect me to think?”

“She was more concerned about getting us to call off the fleet. She thought I’d have enough pull to get the whole SRE fleet to lay down their arms for the Collectors.”

“Yeah, you’re an intelligent man. Hell of a scientist, and, I have to admit, a good captain, but you’re naïve. The lady digs you. They don’t need us to lay down our arms. You saw what just two colonization ships did to the Luminal planet.”

Lucky pressed herself against his legs, purring as if to reassure him. He scratched behind her ears.

“You’re right,” Tag said. “Maybe there is something more there. But I can tell you I want nothing to do with that traitor.”

“As glad as I am to hear you say that, maybe we can use her weakness for you to our advantage. I mean, there’s no guarantee we’re going to see her ever again, but just in case, it’s an ace we can hold up our sleeve.”

“I’ll think about it.” Tag sipped his coffee. “Problem is, she’s the least of our concerns. The Collectors are planning to enslave every person in the SRE who doesn’t submit to their will. And right now, we have no idea how much of the SRE fleet is actually on our side or already in league with the Collectors.”

“Speaking of which, you sure about the Luminals we got on board?”

“They hate the Collectors as much as we do. Shor came back for me, risking their asses to get me and Coren off that ship.”

“Still, we’re dragging them back to Earth,” Sofia said. “All my time spent studying alien races, it makes me a little nervous to show them right where our home is after theirs has been destroyed.”

“There won’t be a home for any of us if we don’t stop the Collectors,” Tag said. “Then we can deal with the Luminals—if there’s even anything to worry about.”

“You better be right.”

“Like Shor would say, have a little faith in them. Besides, we need every bit of help we can get.”

Sofia drained the rest of her coffee. “I know. I just hope it’s actually help we’re getting.”

***

Tag took his seat at the conference table and gestured for Alpha to engage the holo link to the others.

The droid nodded, tapping on a holopad. Seated next to her was Sofia. Bracken had taken Coren’s place as the Mechanic representative.

Soon the seats filled with holoprojections of the others that Tag had called into the meeting. Jaroon from the Melarrey appeared alongside Captains Hibino, Holland, Singh, and Cheung. Shor glowed to life next. The only sentient beings not represented in their strike group were the Raktor, who did not have the capabilities to create a projection of themselves. They didn’t have a centralized body quite like the humanoid species, instead spreading their roots alongside the electronic internals of a ship. The lead Raktor on the Peace of Spring was dialed in via voice comms.

“We have a nearly three-week journey until we reach Earth,” Tag said. “The Collectors will likely be there by the time we arrive. For those of you who aren’t human but are joining us, I thank you.”

He looked at Bracken then Shor and Jaroon.

“You have no reason to care about humanity or our struggles.” In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if they blamed humans for the tragedies they’d all suffered. “All the same, we have a chance to turn back the tide of this war. Saving Earth might be the path we need toward victory against the Collectors. If we can save the SRE, then we can and will fight back.”

The other human captains nodded. Jaroon expanded, his bulbous blue body inflating. Shor merely brightened but made no indication whether it approved of Tag’s words.

“I want a status report from each of you,” Tag said.

Hibino began, listing the fighters they’d lost and the damage to the Grand Fury. The Courage and the Wolfhound, too, had sustained damage, requiring lengthy repairs. Dozens of engineers and other crew members had been injured or killed when several of the ships’ primary and secondary cannons were destroyed. And the Broadsword, as Tag already knew, had taken the worst of the attacks, its impellers and power plants at less than half of their normal operating capacity.

Bracken waited her turn and then said, “My people have already lost great numbers. I’ve stood by you and the SRE since the beginning.” She let out a long exhalation, and Tag feared what was to come. “Logically, it makes no sense for my people to continue this fight. We have no ship now. We’re at your mercy, and we would be better off going home.”

“If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you,” Tag said. “We can organize a transfer to the Grand Fury and find a transport to take you back to Meck’ara.”

“That isn’t what I want,” Bracken said. “It isn’t what my people want. We want the Collectors dead.”

“Hear, hear,” Jaroon said. “The remnants of my people will only survive if we can ensure the Collectors are defeated.”

Bracken folded her long, multijointed fingers together. “And what we need is a plan. No inspirational speeches. No attempts to puff up our egos or thank us for fighting. I want a logical, well-considered plan that has an actual chance of success.”

Shor’s glow blossomed, letting off a bright golden hue that illuminated the conference room. “The Sovereign himself indicated Tag and Alpha were essential to our success. I trust his word, but I do not think it is helpful if you make demands like this.”

“Gods be damned, the only reason either of you two are around today is because Commander Brewer saved you,” Cheung said. “Show some gratitude.”

“Don’t tell me about gratitude when my ship is wrecked on a planet whose foolhardy citizens are about to be extinct,” Bracken said.

“We are not going extinct,” Shor said.

The two started to argue, voices rising. Holland, Cheung, and Singh joined in, all trying to be heard over each other, tensions high.

“Quiet,” Tag said. “Please, quiet.”

He stood, his palms flat on the table as he looked at each of the captains in turn.

“We’re all under a great deal of stress right now,” he said when he had their attention again. “But don’t forget who our enemies are. They’re not in this room.” He sat, waiting a beat to make sure there were no more outbursts. “Bracken’s right. We’re not going to rush headlong into Earth’s solar system without a plan. And the truth is, I don’t have one right now.”

The fur on Bracken’s neck bristled, but she said nothing. For the moment, at least, everyone was listening.

“We have three weeks,” Tag said. “Three weeks to strategize. We know the Collectors are sending colonization ships. My crew has experience with these ships, as does Raktor. I’ve got some of the smartest damn people this side of the galaxy in this strike group. So you’ve got two main tasks right now. Repair your ships, focusing on weapons and shields. Singh, if it looks like you can’t complete repairs in time, then we’ll discuss other plans for the Broadsword. As for the rest of you, Alpha and I will be in constant contact with your science and engineering teams. We will need every available resource at our disposal.”

“Science teams?” Cheung asked. “Pardon me, Commander, but what are the engineers and scientists going to do in three weeks that our gunners can’t solve?”

Tag inhaled sharply, straightening his spine. “We are completely outclassed by Collector weaponry. Going toe-to-toe with them isn’t going to cut it, even if the reinforcements we called arrive in time.”

“What about Earth’s defenses?” Singh asked. “Surely we can coordinate with them.”

“We will if we can,” Tag said. “But our strike group won’t win the battle for our solar system if all the fleets assigned to protect Earth can’t. We need to think beyond railguns and plasma cannons.”

“Yes,” Shor said. “The Sovereign mentioned nothing about battling the Collectors, and if we could not stand up to them... I’ve seen your human technology, and I’m afraid it won’t fare better than we did.”

Bracken’s lips twitched as if she was holding back a victorious grin.

Singh’s face turned a shade red, his features contorting in a scowl. “You haven’t seen the extent of human—”

Tag held up his hand to stay Singh’s anger. “Captain Singh, you’re absolutely right that neither of them have seen the extent of the SRE’s Navy or its firepower. But I have. And I’ve seen firsthand what the Collectors can do. There is no race that can stand up to them alone. That’s why we’re going to divert all efforts to new, collaborative weaponry and tech we can use against them.”

“In three weeks?” Holland blurted out.

“In three weeks,” Tag said. He looked at Alpha. “I’ve completed desperate projects in less time.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Three days had gone by since they transitioned into hyperspace. Tag was in the lab, where he had spent nearly every waking moment with Alpha. Once Coren had recovered from the regen chamber, he had joined them, his face covered in a litany of new scars. While Alpha ran computer simulations, Tag briefed Coren on their current efforts, hoping that the talented engineer could help accelerate their progress.

“Right now, the best way to subvert the enemy’s invasion is to take over a Collector ship,” Tag began. “Using Raktor and Alpha, we can infiltrate their network, just like we did on Ezekiel’s ship.”

“That is logical,” Coren said. “We have enough firepower to get our team aboard a colonization ship. But once you tap into their network, what’s the plan?”

“Thanks to Raktor, we have the records of the Collector networks for both intraship functions and intership communications. Alpha is working on developing a virus she can upload to their systems. Our aim is to entirely shut down their ships.”

Coren scratched at his chin. “Risky, but it might work.”

“The hardest part will be transmitting the virus from one colonization ship to another.”

“And if we can’t transmit the virus between ships?”

“Then we’ll have to hit each ship manually,” Tag said. “We have half a dozen Raktor-driven ships. The Luminals and the rest of our team will have to split up. We’ll target colonization ships first.”

“How many colonization ships do you think they’ll have around Earth?” Coren asked.

“The data Raktor recovered from the colonization ship suggests they generally send a single ship. Sometimes they send two or three, but that’s only when they face a particularly strong species.”

“By my count, we’ve led to the destruction of two of their colonization ships,” Coren said. “Perhaps they’ll bring more to the battle for Earth.”

“Maybe. Of course, they’ll be bringing more than just colonization ships, but my hope is we can distract the other ships with the Grand Fury and its fighters. I’m also relying on at least some of Earth’s defensive forces being functional.”

“Can we use the Luminal flickering technology to help our infiltration?”

Tag grinned. “Already on it. The Luminals have been integrating their tech into the armor of every marine and soldier in our strike team. The Collectors will never know what hit them.”

Alpha paused from her work and joined them at the table in the center of the lab.

“Got an update?” Tag asked.

“Yes, Commander,” she said. “I have run a total of three thousand and two simulations. Ninety-two percent of them have failed upon integration within the Collector intranet. Of the remaining virus iterations that have infected the ship’s intranet, less than half successfully disabled the nano-golems for longer than ten simulated minutes. No iterations were capable of transmission between ships.”

Tag felt a sense of dread at that statement but knew they still had plenty of time to get this right. “What’s the cause for failure?”

“The Collectors’ adaptive firewalls are too strong. I have not overcome their AI systems in our simulations.”

“What about with Raktor’s help?” Coren said.

“These simulations were performed with Raktor’s input. Now that Raktor has invaded their Collector ships twice, the Collectors have developed a resistance to its insertion into their network.”

Tag’s plan hinged on the hope that lightning would strike twice—or in this case, three times. Raktor and Alpha needed to break into the Collector network for any part of their plan to succeed.

“What happens if we can’t upload a virus to their systems?” Coren asked.

Tag didn’t have an answer. They would simply have to find a way.

***

While Alpha continued iterating on her virus design, Tag and Coren tried to come up with alternative plans to bring down the Collectors. But for all the time they had spent delving through the intel on the Collectors and the colonization ships, they hadn’t come up with any good alternatives.

No other science team in the strike group was having better luck. He wasn’t exactly surprised. Hacking advanced alien technologies was not their specialty.

But he had hoped someone, somewhere would have had a spark of inspiration.

He sighed heavily, letting his head fall into his hands. Tag felt as though he’d aged a decade in the last few days.

“Commander Brewer,” Alpha said, stepping away from her terminal. “Are you well?”

Tag ran his hand through his hair. “Not making much progress, I’m afraid. I wish there was a way to just shut down the nanites externally. There must be something we’re missing.”

“Perhaps there is,” Alpha said. “But I was not asking about your progress. I was enquiring about you.”

“What? I’m fine.”

Alpha shook her head. “Commander, you need vastly more calories than I do to sustain your biological functions. According to even liberal estimates, you have spent far too much time in here and not enough time with the food fabricators. I would advise you take a break.”

“I can’t. We don’t have the time.”

“The human brain does not function at optimal capacity when it is undernourished and fatigued. If you are not taking appropriate breaks, your effectiveness in the lab will be reduced to the point where breaks do not—”

“All right, Alpha. I got it. I’ll go to the mess.”

“Thank you, Commander.”

Tag shook his head as Alpha turned back to her monitor. “You’re persistent, Alpha. Makes me wonder who the real captain of this ship is.”

“That should be obvious,” Alpha said. Tag was about to tell her that he was trying to make a joke. But she cut him off. “I am.”

Tag laughed, and soon Alpha joined in. “Glad to see you mastering the art of sarcasm. Sofia would be proud.”

He walked toward the mess as he’d promised Alpha. A coffee and something to eat wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes. He could spare that. Alpha was right; he was exhausted. He didn’t have time for a nap, but caffeine would have to do.

When he got to the mess, he found he wasn’t the only one there. The marines were in the middle of eating. Lucky slunk around them, batting her eyes and begging for scraps.

Sumo waved at Tag when he entered. “Join us, Commander.”

Tag punched in an order for noodles, and the fabricators went to work. As soon as the meal was ready, he took a seat next to Lonestar.

“No turbo game to watch?” Tag asked.

Gorenado shook his head. “We ran through ‘em all.”

The marine threw a turboball the marines had brought aboard across the mess. Lucky sprinted after it. She pounced on it and brought it back, dropping it proudly at Gorenado’s feet.

“Tried to rewatch a few,” Sumo said. “But when you already know the score and every play, it’s not so fun.”

Tag sensed tension in the group. Any semblance of good humor seemed forced. It was no mystery why.

Bull’s face grew serious. “We’ve got bigger plays to worry about. Like what happens when we get to Earth.”

“Aww, Sarge, you want to talk about that shit now?” Gorenado said. He gave Lucky a hearty pat on the back then threw the ball again for her.

“No better time,” Bull replied gruffly. “What do you think we’re going to face when we transition into normal space?”

Tag took a bite of his noodles. “To be honest, we’re not sure. Earth hasn’t received the grav wave comm systems that the strike group has, so there’s no way to confirm anything from them until we actually arrive.”

After returning the ball to Gorenado, Lucky sat next to Tag and leaned against him.

“I’ve never been one for surprises,” Sumo said, “and this sure as hell sounds like a shit one.”

“I wish I had better news,” Tag said. Lucky gave him a reassuring purr. “But the goal is going to be getting aboard just one colonization ship. One ship, and we can change everything.”

“I hope you’re right,” Lonestar said. “And I reckon that visiting Earth is a perk. It’d be nice to actually see my hometown, you know? Always dreamed of what it’d be like to see Texas.”

Tag pictured the urban sprawl of Old Houston, how the city stretched over kilometer upon kilometer of flat ground. “I don’t think it’s anything like what you’ve got in mind. Your home planet is more Texan than Texas last time I was there.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Lonestar said. “It’ll just be fascinating to see the roots of humanity. Where we all came from.”

“My gods, I hope it still exists when we get there,” Sumo said.

Gorenado frowned. “It’ll be there. And we’ll keep it there.”

Bull nodded. “Damn right. So back to your plan. We board the Collector ship and get you into the CIC, kill whatever goddamned Collector is in there pretending to be king, and upload Alpha’s virus with Raktor’s help. That about right?”

“That’s the gist of it.”

“So that virus,” Sumo asked. “Coming along nicely?”

Tag hesitated.

“Shoot, that bad, huh?” Lonestar said.

“The Collector programs blocking Alpha’s virus are strong. And the simulations are based off old intel. Might be worse when we get there.”

“Then what in the three hells do we do if we don’t got a working virus?” Gorenado asked. “Take the Collector fleet out the old-fashioned way?”

He mimed shooting a plasma rifle across the mess. Lucky huffed at the action, ridges along her back raised.

“You got a one-track mind,” Sumo said. “That’s why you got those nasty burn scars from that damn grenade outside Orthod.”

“What? You got a better idea?”

“Matter of fact, I do,” Sumo said. She leaned toward Tag, giving him a conspiratorial look. “Let me guess. This virus, Alpha and Raktor’s work, it’s all based on hacking the Collector systems, right?”

“That’s right,” Tag said. “We’ve got to infiltrate their ship-wide intranet then spread the virus through their intership comms with the rest of the Collector fleet.”

“And what’s going wrong with Alpha’s virus?” Sumo asked.

Gorenado scrunched his brow. “Wait, you actually got an idea?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sumo said. “You bet I got ideas.”

Tag answered Sumo’s question. “We keep running into the built-in firewalls. They’re directed by an AI, which makes them hyper-adaptable to incursion attempts.”

“Yeah, I don’t know exactly what that means,” Sumo said. “I’m just guessing the way the Collectors’ systems work isn’t fundamentally different than ours. You’ve got to authenticate your identity to log into the intranet system or make comms between ships.”

“That’s pretty much right,” Tag said.

“So you have to do all this hacking stuff because you don’t have a password or the biometrics the Collectors have to log into the system, right?”

Tag nodded.

“Seems to me the answer is really simple. If you can’t get the virus to overcome the firewalls, then don’t bother.”

“Yeah, that sounds really damn simple,” Gorenado said. “Don’t get the virus to work right, we all die. Boom, mission’s over.”

“I don’t like that outcome,” Lonestar said.

“Nah, you jarheads got it all wrong,” Sumo said. “Typical. Look, Commander, there’s one way to access those systems you’ve been missing. It’s way easier than bashing your head against a computer terminal until it works.”

“I’m all ears,” Tag said.

“The Collectors,” Sumo said. “I mean, damn, should be obvious. We use the Collector on that ship. Make him give us access.”

A grin spread over Gorenado’s face. “I like that idea.” He made a fist, mashing into one of his big palms. “I’m guessing he’s going to be stubborn. Won’t want to talk. But I’ll be happy to convince him to let us into that system.”

“Those things are bigger, meaner, and uglier than you, Gore,” Lonestar said.

“Bigger, maybe.”

“Ooh, let me help,” Lonestar said. “After everything they’ve done, I owe it to ‘em.”

Tag stopped eating and put down his fork, a smile tugging at his lips. “You know, you guys are right. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but Alpha and I have been chasing the wrong comet.”

“So you going to have her stop?” Bull asked. “Let us work our magic?”

Tag shook his head. “No, it’s always good to have a backup. I want a boarding plan, and I want you all to think about how we’re getting that Collector to talk.”

“Count on us,” Bull said. “We’ll get it done.”

“You bet,” Sumo said. “It’s all about playing to your strengths. Seems like there’s always a clear path when you’re in hyperspace, but in normal space, anything goes.”

Tag stood, done with his meal and feeling re-energized. “You’re onto something, Sumo.”

Even as he said it, reality hit him. Tag knew the Collectors were zealots. Trying to convince one to spill their secrets, even through unorthodox means, was in his estimation even less likely than Alpha’s virus working on its own.

Giving the marines something to focus on would be good.

Sumo was right about one thing. They needed alternatives—and they had to play to their strengths. It was time to play to his.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The whir of the air filtration fans hummed inside the lab’s biosafety cabinet. It had been a long time since Tag had worked in the isolated biosafety portion of the lab. The already-cramped space felt damn near claustrophobic with a few Luminals and Mechanics beside him. They manipulated robotic arms within the biosafety cabinets using terminals mounted to the bulkhead, running screening experiments in tiny plastic dishes. This lab had become a miniature factory, producing something Tag never in his lifetime would’ve thought he’d order.

A biological weapon.

“The latest dose is ready,” L’Orent said, indicating a small plastic vial held by a robotic arm. “All screening experiments have shown a nearly one hundred percent sequestration success rate.”

“Excellent,” Tag said. “Can you show me?”

The Mechanic nodded then signaled to Zadra, the Luminal that had helped with Tag’s integration at the Citadel and their subsequent escape. The technologically adept Luminal had reluctantly been helping in the lab.

With a flick of its fingers, the Luminal turned on a holoprojection. At first, the projection showed an image of the spiky nanites, the same ones that had been adapted to turn Luminals and Mechanics into Drones. These nanites also formed the self-healing nano-golems.

Previously, with the help of the Mechanics, they had created a vaccine that could stop nanite infections, effectively preventing a person from becoming a Drone. But that did nothing to help those already affected.

The vaccine prevented the nanites from forming the grav wave antennae within a host’s neural tissues. Tag realized that same technology might be adapted to disrupt the formation of nano-golems too.

“Here is one example of what we’ve developed,” Zadra explained, starting the simulation.

Tag watched on the holo as the spiky nodules representing the infectious nanites started to collide, beginning the first steps of coalescing into a nano-golem.

“Now we add the sequestration particles,” Zadra said.

A spray of smaller blue particles appeared on the holo. They collided with the nanites and surrounded them, preventing them from clustering together. Instead of forming a nano-golem, the particles floated around harmlessly.

“We’re calling this the Reversal Agent,” the Luminal said. “Now comes the most important part. We introduce a single cell. One that represents the cells you would find in a Collector’s body.”

The single cell with its bulbous black nucleus looked like a translucent, microscopic egg that had split open. The cloud of particles pierced the cell’s membrane and swam through the fluid inside it.

“The Reversal Agent is covered in molecules that target proteins on the surface of the Collector’s cells,” Zadra said. “Just like a homing missile, they only go after those targets, which enable them to infect the Collector’s cells, bringing with them the nanites.”

L’Orent nodded. “Of course, the nanites would not normally infect the Collectors. This entire process is only possible because of the Reversal Agent.”

“And what happens after the Collectors are infected with their own nanites?” Tag asked. “Does the agent perform as we intended?”

“Our simulations seem to suggest that it does,” L’Orent said. It gestured over the holo again. The holo showed an entire Collector. “When any signal is applied to the nanites—for example, when the Collector commands the nanites to form a nano-golem—the particles within his body attempt to form the golem.”

Zadra’s vacant eyes almost seemed to narrow, brightening slightly as if a fire burned deep within them. “But of course, the particles are trapped within his cells. They’ll tear the cell membranes, causing pain and tissue damage, proving potentially fatal if the Collector does not kill all commands to the nanites.”

“Good,” Tag said. “So once the Reversal Agent has infected them with their own nanites, they’ll feel it every time they try to activate the nanites inside their colonization ship.”

“I must say, the simulations show this is a terrifically painful process,” Zadra said. “Beyond the scope of what I thought we initially hoped to achieve.”

“While I don’t want to cause any innocent being harm, the Collectors cannot be reasoned with,” Tag said. “And as I’m sure you would agree, they are far from innocent.”

“Of course, but... We have developed one bioweapon to deal with another. I am no longer sure that this rather terrifying agent is helping to free all those whose minds have been enslaved by the Collectors.”

“It is not as though we intend to torture them,” L’Orent said. “They will simply be forced to shut down their own nanite networks to protect themselves, allowing us to take control of their ship. It’s the first step toward freeing our civilizations from their tyranny.”

Zadra’s vacant eyes seemed to lock onto Tag for a moment. “The Sovereign placed its trust in you, as did Shor. But technology like this can be a powerful weapon. I am guilty for having helped develop it.”

“We do what we must to survive,” Tag said.

“That is what I am afraid of,” Zadra said. “You must not abuse this newfound power in the name of the survival of your species like the Collectors did.”

“You have my word,” Tag said. “I understand trust between our races is a hard resource to come by after all we’ve been through, but I will not let you down.”

“You better not, after all the work we’ve done here.”

L’Orent nodded. “I can vouch for the humans. For the most part, they have proven to be an honorable species.”

“I can’t excuse the corrupt individuals who have worked for the Collectors or those who would selfishly advance their own interests,” Tag said, “but you’ll find my team and those we fight for are doing the right thing. We want to help you, the Mechanics, and everyone else affected by the Collectors.”

Zadra said nothing for a moment. “Fine. Do not make me regret my work in this lab.”

“I promise,” Tag said. He couldn’t tell whether the Luminal was satisfied with that response or not, but for now, it would have to do.

Tag turned back to L’Orent. “How much of this Reversal Agent can we make in the next few days?”

“We’ll have enough to release onto a single Collector colonization ship if production remains consistent,” L’Orent said. “Of course, the closer that you release the Reversal Agent to your target, the less time it will take to infect. So even though we can potentially produce enough to be effective over the volume of a colonization ship, it will take exponentially longer than if you were to release the Reversal Agent directly in the presence of the Collectors piloting the ship.”

“Don’t worry about that part of the plan,” Tag said. “Leave that to my team and me.”

Alpha’s viruses were proving better at infecting the Collector networks, and even if she failed, the marines were eager to rip into the Collectors. Combined with the Reversal Agent, that gave Tag three potential solutions to taking over a Collector ship.

But still, he feared it wouldn’t be enough.

***

The time for transition into normal space came exactly when Alpha had told them it would. Even so, it felt like too soon.

Tag was in the bridge with Alpha, Sofia, and Coren, each at their respective stations, all in armored EVA suits. In the lower decks, Bracken’s people had suited up alongside the Luminals and marines. All were ready to board the nearest Collector colonization ship—and to end this battle as fast as they could.

“Transitioning in one minute,” Alpha reported over the comms.

“All ships form battle lines immediately upon transition,” Tag said. “Stand by for prioritized targets before engaging.”

The affirmatives echoed over Tag’s comms from humans, Luminals, and even the Raktor ships. The Grand Fury was leading the group with its brutal array of primary and secondary cannons. The fighter squadrons would be deployed immediately to intercept any enemy bombers while launching strikes of their own against the targets that Alpha and Tag identified. The three remaining destroyers had been repaired for fighting condition. The Courage and the Wolfhound had nearly seventy percent of their armaments at full function, but the Broadsword’s engines would still only operate at fifty percent capacity. Over half their primaries were still offline.

The Luminal forces included four destroyers and a dozen escort ships. The Melarrey’s Crucible was still fully operational, and the Raktors’ six ships had no issue keeping pace with the strike team, though only four of the ships had cannons of any sort. The other two were simply abandoned transport frigates that the Raktor had taken over.

By any normal analysis, this was a strong strike group, a powerful conglomeration of technologies and skilled captains, a diversity of weapons that would impress any hardened admiral in the SRE. But against the Collectors, Tag wasn’t sure how they would measure up.

“Transitioning now,” Alpha said.

The purple and green waves of plasma coursing over the viewscreen gave way to the blackness of normal space, punctuated by the glimmer of distant stars. Ahead sprawled Earth’s solar system. The green-and-blue planet was nearly thirty million klicks ahead. They were halfway between Mars and Earth, on a direct path toward Tag’s home planet.

Other ships burned into existence around them, finishing the transition.

“All ships accounted for,” Alpha said.

“Good,” Tag said. “Sofia, take us toward Earth.”

The ship accelerated in normal space, pressing Tag against his crash couch, his insides lurching until the dampeners kicked in.

“Alpha, open all channels,” Tag said. “See if we can reach anyone on Earth.”

“Yes, Commander,” she replied. “I am getting a lot of activity. There are nearly two hundred individual SOS calls coming in. Mapping them now.”

The holoprojection in the middle of the bridge showing the solar system was populated with a spray of white dots, each representing a ship calling for help.

“Gods, we’re too late,” Sofia said.

“Maybe not,” Alpha said. “There are other calls for reinforcements. I believe they are mounting Earth’s orbital defenses.”

Alpha transmitted fragments of those conversations over the ship’s channel to Tag.

“They’re hitting us too hard! We’re—”

“Five hundred dead, the Vigilance is going down. I repeat, we’re going down!”

“Orbital battery station four is offline. Orbital battery station two, confirmed destroyed.”

“We’re ordering an abandon ship. Every—”

More and more messages filtered through, all dripping with desperation, a battle being lost.

Tag felt a knot of dread worm through him.

“Do we have any eyes on the enemy?” Tag asked.

Alpha tapped on her keyboard. “The enemy is at the edge of lidar and radar range, so current enemy projections are based on data transmitted from other SRE vessels.”

“Understood.”

The map filled with red dots showing the Collectors’ positions scattered around Earth.

“This cannot be right,” Coren said, emotion filling the normally stoic Mechanic’s voice. “Alpha, try again. Are you sure you’ve eliminated any repeat reports?”

“The holomap is correct,” Alpha said.

Tag desperately wanted her to be wrong. They had expected the Collectors to send more than one colonization ship. Maybe three. He hadn’t expected twelve.

Each of those ships was more than enough to transform Earth and the rest of the planets in this solar system into a paradise for the Collectors. Near Earth’s moon, Tag saw another giant vessel, diamond shaped. He assumed it was the Nanite Node Hannah Baker had mentioned, capable of controlling anyone or anything infected with the Collectors’ nanites. The presence of this Node would mean that Earth would become the center of the Collector empire.

As they drew closer to Earth, the calls for help growing more frantic, lidar and radar picked up the destruction, allowing Tag to see for the first time what had happened to the humans in this solar system who had stood in the way of the Collectors’ conquest. Video images spread across their viewscreen.

They saw stations ripped apart like children’s toys, a carrier torn in half spilling its innards like a wounded animal, and ship after ship that had been turned into nothing but spreading debris, a mixture of mechanical components and frozen bodies drifting in zero-g.

“Earth Command, SRES Argo,” Tag tried over an open channel. “Do you copy?”

“Argo, what are you doing here?” a panicked voice said.

“We’ve come to help defend Earth.”

“Gods, there’s nothing to defend,” the voice replied, sounding as though he was choking back a sob. “Earth is already lost.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

On the holomap, Tag watched ships launch from Earth, rocketing from the surface to escape the doomed planet. None made it far. Their signals disappeared in seconds, presumably shot down by the Collectors.

“Earth Command,” Tag tried again. “We can stop this, but you’ve got to hold on.”

“It’s too late,” the comms officer replied. “All we can do is buy time for the evacuation.”

Tag was quiet a moment. They had come here to save the planet. But if it was already lost, what was the point?

Images of his father flashed through his mind, fresh from Hannah Baker’s treachery. Earth wasn’t just some planet. Earth was the people who lived down there. Whether the planet itself was lost or not was of no consequence. The people of Earth, of the SRE, were what kept humanity going. They were what needed to be saved.

“How many are still waiting to be evacuated?” Tag asked

“Current projections estimate there are still twelve billion Earth civilians in the crossfire.”

“Twelve billion,” Tag repeated.

He imagined all the frightened families, wondering where these massive invading ships had come from. Unaware that they were about to be trampled by enslaved species from around the galaxy—or become slaves themselves to the Collectors.

“Twelve billion lives on the line,” Tag said again, this time over the channel to the rest of the strike group. “There are twelve billion humans on this planet that need our help. If we don’t save them, they could be part of the Collectors’ armies tomorrow. Invading another planet, another species.”

Everything still hinged on them shutting down the nanite network through their access to a colonization ship.

“Alpha, chart a course to the nearest colonization ship,” Tag said. “Grand Fury, deploy Eagle Squadron to serve as our escort. The Crucible and the Wolfhound are with us too. Raktor, I want your transport frigates and the Peace of Spring. Shor, send two platoons of Luminals to join us on the colonization ship.”

That left the Grand Fury and the rest of her squadrons, most of the Luminal fleet, the Raktor warships, and the two remaining SRES destroyers, the Broadsword and the Courage.

“Everyone else, you are to follow the Grand Fury into battle under Captain Hibino’s charge,” Tag continued. “Your goal will be to secure the Node. If my team fails, you must destroy that Node at all costs. It may not single-handedly save everyone here on Earth, but it will at least disrupt the communication network the Collectors use to control the Drones and the nanites.”

“You can count on us, sir,” Hibino said in a cool voice.

Tag knew what he was asking of his people was tantamount to carrying a boulder uphill. Maybe there was a chance they could get it done... but even so, the cost would be enormous.

“This is it,” Tag said. “Captain Hibino, we’ll maintain contact. But it’s going to get hectic. It was good to serve with you all, even if this mission was shorter than we’d anticipated.”

“And you as well,” Hibino shot back. “I’ve never seen a medical officer with the balls you’ve got.”

Tag laughed. Maybe it was mostly his nerves getting to him, but he couldn’t help but grin like a madman. Three hells, descending on Earth in these conditions? He was a madman.

“I hope anyone in my position would have done the same as I have.”

“You would hope,” Hibino said. “But not everyone would.”

The distant flashes of explosions were growing more numerous in the viewscreen. They were minutes from being within weapon range, and there was no concealing their movement from the enemy.

This was it.

“Approaching effective cannon range,” Alpha said.

“Raise all shields to one hundred percent,” Tag said. “Coren, weapons hot. Sofia, keep us moving. It’s going to be obvious which colonization ship we’re going to hit, but I don’t want to fly a predictably straight path.”

“Don’t worry,” Sofia said. “Me and this old bird know how to survive incoming fire.”

“We’ve all been on this bridge with you,” Coren said. “You only seem to know how to fly straight into it.”

“If I didn’t have an obnoxious Mechanic chatting my ear off, I’d probably fly better.”

Tag listened to their jibes for a few seconds as they let off their steam in good-natured jests. He guessed they were as nervous as him, their insides a tangled mess. The piercing glow of pulsefire erupted across the black, still concentrated in the distance, closer to Earth. But every laser bolt, every pearly strand of pulsefire, reminded Tag what they were advancing toward.

“Grand Fury, split off now,” Tag said. “Sofia, full ahead.”

The Argo accelerated, pressing Tag into his crash couch. On the holomap, he saw the carrier pull away, straightening out toward the Node. At the same time, the destroyers surrounding the Grand Fury let loose their opening salvo, firing into the ships near the Node. Fighters began to launch from the carrier’s fighter catapults.

One Collector warship caught in their path absorbed the brunt of their fire, energy readings reporting its engines had already failed. Plasma sprayed from its ruined reactor as the middle of the ship collapsed under the concerted fire. Atmosphere escaped in huge plumes, freezing nearly instantaneously as the Grand Fury’s fighters raced past it to rain hell on another ship.

But before the fighters made it to their target, a Starinski stealth ship suddenly appeared nearby, its cannons unloading on the fighters, revealing its cloaked location. Two fighters disappeared in the initial salvo, and the rest rerouted as more Starinski ships appeared to intercept them. The Grand Fury and its escort unleashed a fusillade of fire into their ranks.

“Incoming Collector fighters,” Alpha said.

“Coren, focus your PDC fire on them. Keep the primaries engaged with the colonization ship’s defensive turrets.”

“Understood,” Coren said, his fingers working across his terminal.

The brilliant flash and hum of the main pulse cannons boomed overhead. Kinetic slugs whipped from their Gauss cannon, slicing through space straight at the slow-moving colonization ship. As the enemy fighters made their approach, orange ropes of PDC fire slashed at them like fiery whips.

The squadron that had been deployed to defend the Argo raced ahead to intercept and finish off those enemy fighters that Coren missed. Other ships in the Collectors’ fleet seemed to gravitate toward them, falling out of the main ranks surrounding Earth.

But if they maintained speed, Tag estimated they would reach the nearest colonization ship before being set upon by too many Collector vessels. This particular ship looked like it had joined the battle late, leaving itself unprotected on the exterior ring of the Collector forces.

Then again, with the Collectors surrounding Earth, the arrogant bastards probably didn’t think a ship like this needed much protecting.

Either way, this was the perfect target, ripe for Tag’s taking.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

A sudden gout of pulse rounds slammed into the Argo’s starboard side. The energy shield crackled with green plasma everywhere they hit, splashing over the viewscreen and shaking the ship.

“Hold on!” Sofia yelled, pulling hard on the controls.

“Energy shields at sixty percent!” Alpha shouted as more rounds hammered the ship.

“I need eyes,” Tag said.

The ship tremored.

“There is a Starinski ship to our stern,” Alpha said. “It is cloaking again!”

“Transmit last known coordinates to the Wolfhound and the Crucible.”

Tag opened up the sternward views from his terminal. The holos showed both ships firing at where the stealth vessel had appeared.

Another Starinski ship appeared, visible for a second as it demolished three of their escort fighters.

“Alpha, can’t you do anything with the tracking programs we pulled off the Starinski ships in Luminal star system?”

“I have been attempting to recalibrate it, but the location data for the ships in this fleet are encrypted differently.”

“We’re just flying blind again?” Sofia asked.

“I assume you can see,” Coren said. “Or else I’ll take the controls, machines be damned!”

“Focus!” Tag yelled as another blast tore into their shields.

“Thirty percent,” Alpha said.

They fired back with full force, cannons constantly booming. Tag looked at the holomap of the system, gauging their distance from the colonization ship. There was a very real possibility that their shields wouldn’t last until they reached the Collector ship. If that happened, then the Argo would be shredded.

Tag stole a glance at the holomap. Hibino’s half of the team didn’t appear to be faring much better. Their fighter squadrons seemed to be evaporating from the map with each passing second. The Broadsword’s damaged impellers appeared to be struggling, and Tag was watching it fall behind. If it couldn’t keep up with the other ships, then it would surely perish, along with Captain Singh and the thousands aboard the valiant destroyer.

“We are taking heavy damage,” a voice hissed over the comms. One of the Raktor frigates next to the Peace of Spring. The frigates were huge. But their only weapons were the Raktors aboard the ship, which would be crucial to taking the colonization ship.

Through the viewscreen, one of the Raktor ships was already venting plasma. Flames erupted behind portholes, and parts of the hull crumpled under the incoming fire. Its shields were down.

“Eagle Squadron, watch that Raktor ship,” Tag said. “Don’t let it take any more fire.”

“Roger that,” Eagle Squadron’s leader replied. Several fighters fell back, circling around the Raktor’s frigate, chasing away enemy spacecraft.

“Commander, I’ve cracked the encrypted coordinates for the stealth ships in this sector,” Alpha said.

“Transmit it to the rest of the strike group now!”

He watched in satisfaction as the cloaked ships’ locations sparked to life across the holomap. In response, his allies targeted fire at the stealth vessels. Explosions tore through the Starinski ships, their hulls ripping.

“Eat plasma!” Coren roared.

The rattle of incoming rounds against the Argo slowed, and the shields had a chance to recover, regaining power. But any feeling of victory quickly vanished when Tag saw that not every ship had survived the blast.

The damaged Raktor ship had burst into chunks of slag, separating and tumbling through space. Tag tried to ping the Raktor seedling aboard that ship, but he got no response.

“Three hells,” Tag muttered.

A second Raktor ship fell victim to a flurry of incoming missiles. It split it into two pieces, each chunk rotating wildly away from the colonization ship.

“No, no, no,” Sofia cried “We lost another!”

The Wolfhound’s hull had been pierced, too, and one of its impellers was damaged. Atmosphere bled from the gash near that impeller, leaving a trail of frozen mist.

“We’re closing in on the colonization ship,” Sofie said. “But we need an entry point.”

“Coren, launch torpedoes straight into its docking bay,” Tag said. “We need that hatch cleared.”

A moment later, three torpedoes streaked across the expanse, rocketing through the field of debris. The first was cut down by PDC fire from hull-mounted cannons on the colonization ship. At only a kilometer away, the second was eliminated. The third struck home, exploding over the hull. But when the debris from the explosion cleared, the hatch had simply dented inward.

“We need into that bay,” Tag said. Another three Eagle Squadron fighters went down from enemy fire. Though the Starinski ships had been eliminated, three more Collector destroyers maneuvered toward them, unleashing lasers and pulse rounds from their primaries.

The Peace of Spring was absorbing fire too. Its energy shields still stood, but Tag doubted they could take much more. Alongside the Argo, the Luminal ship drifted toward the Collector vessel. Rounds slashed into the side of the golden ship, tearing into the cannons mounted along its hull. Beyond them, the gouge in the Wolfhound’s stern had grown larger, and another rent had been torn into its bow.

Four more squadrons of fighters blasted out from the colonization ship to join those already cutting into Eagle Squadron’s ranks.

“Launch more torpedoes, Coren,” Tag said.

Five more torpedoes cut toward the Collectors’ ship. Three were immediately intercepted, exploding before they could come within a hundred kilometers of the colonization ship. In that time, the shield on the Peace of Spring went down. Three fighters circled it, sending plasma fire burning through its hull. Slagged alloy spread from the impacts.

“Raktor, status?” Tag said.

“One impeller is down,” Raktor replied. “Half of my ship has lost atmosphere. These are very unkind things.”

“Hang in there, Raktor,” Tag said. “You’ll be free from that ship soon.”

“I trust you, Commander Brewer.”

One of the surviving torpedoes hit the hull of the colonization ship. It warped the hatch, and atmosphere vented out in an expanding white mist. A second torpedo slammed into it, and the alloy collapsed inward.

“We’ve got an entry!” Sofia said.

“Nice shooting, Coren,” Tag said. “Sofia, get us in.”

She took the Argo past the debris tumbling through around them, rounds still hitting the energy shields. Eagle Squadron chased fighters away from the Argo and the Peace of Spring. Every gun on the Wolfhound and the Revenant, Shor’s ship, opened up, tearing into the enemy forces. But the three enemy destroyers positioned themselves directly in front of the opening Coren had torn into the colonization ship.

Any promise of an easy entry into the colonization ship had been dashed. They had the power of the Wolfhound, the Crucible, and the Revenant behind them, but that seemed to be far too little, especially as the colonization ship’s defensive turrets glowed, charging energy shots and slinging them at the Argo. The three destroyers directed a concentrated torrent of energy and kinetic rounds slicing toward the Argo.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Tag yelled.

He didn’t need to issue the order. Sofia was already on it.

Shor’s ship flickered, a massive wash of golden light spreading from its position as it disappeared. A second later it appeared ahead of the Argo, dodging the brunt of the fire slashing past them. Raktor had maintained a safe proximity from the Argo’s impeller but was keeping the Peace of Spring tight on their trail, maneuvering with them, effectively avoiding most of the incoming fire. Jaroon executed the matter transmutation technology to protect his ship.

But Captain Holland could not get the damaged Wolfhound out of the way in time. Lasers and kinetic slugs ripped into the ship’s sides. Its shield failed, sparking in a spray of green plasma. More rounds punched through the armor. One of its primary cannons exploded, followed by a geyser of venting atmosphere.

The middle of the ship began to crumple inward. Energy readings from the Argo’s sensors went wild. The Wolfhound’s fusion reactor was failing, and the ship was mere seconds from catastrophic failure. A thousand lives were about to be lost in a blink.

And, for all their sacrifices, they would be no closer to boarding the colonization ship.

No closer to ending this damned war.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“Wolfhound, do you read?” Tag called over the channel.

Holland’s voice came back surprisingly stoic, emotionless. “I’ve ordered an abandon ship. If you survive, please help my people.”

“And you, Captain?” Tag asked.

“I’m not leaving,” she said. “You need into that colonization ship.”

Suddenly the Wolfhound’s impellers erupted in a bright-blue glow as the vessel accelerated forward. All the weapons were firing, cannons burning red, overheating. One of the Wolfhound’s impellers exploded, and half the sternward section of the ship peeled away in molten strips of alloy.

Still the Wolfhound rocketed forward. Holland had directed the vessel straight at the blockade. Pieces of the ship tumbled away from it as it barreled past the Argo. Atmo leaked from a hundred different holes, and plasma sprayed from a growing tear in the belly of the ship.

Everything seemed to slow as Tag watched the ship close in on the three enemy destroyers. Holland was a steadfast captain, serious and talented. A reliable ally on this chaotic mission. And this was to be her fate.

“Godspeed,” Sofia whispered, her voice carrying over the comms.

The Wolfhound slammed into the first destroyer. A blinding flash ripped across space from the impact, and the side of the destroyer disintegrated. Half of the Wolfhound sheared away, the ship splitting into two huge chunks. And somehow, its remaining grav impeller pushed it forward, thrusters adjusting course to hit the second destroyer.

The Wolfhound never made it. Between the defensive fire battering its hull and the failing fusion reactor, the skeleton crew led by Holland on her kamikaze mission had burned away their final seconds of life. The Wolfhound burst into a spray of alloy, propelled by a growing ball of blue plasma. It enveloped the first and second destroyers, both wilting under the waves of energy and heat. They tore into chunks that were then pushed away by the massive forces, tumbling helplessly from the colonization ship. Amid the spray of plasma, sparks of electricity, and frozen clouds of atmo, Tag thought he spotted bodies, too, frozen and somersaulting through the expanse.

And for all Holland’s gallantry, the courage of her last stand, the third destroyer still stood in their way.

Dozens of smaller dots appeared on the holomap, indicating the defenseless lifeboats floating in the Wolfhound’s wake, the remnants of Holland’s crew that had made it off alive. But their lives were in no less jeopardy than they had been before.

The remaining destroyer and a few of the enemy fighters sent rounds that speared through the lifeboats, shredding them.

“Why are they targeting the lifeboats?” Coren said, directing his own fire on the destroyer’s weapons.

Strategically it made no sense. There was little to be gained shooting down vessels without any weapons in the midst of a battle. But to Tag, the Collectors’ motives were clear.

“They’re telling us they already won,” Tag said. “They don’t even care that we’re headed toward the colonization ship. They’re dismissing our forces, killing for the sake of killing.”

“That is exceedingly cruel,” Alpha said.

“And it’s why we need to stop these blue bastards,” Sofia said. “The destroyer’s not moving. What should we do?”

“Keep going,” Tag said. “Stay in front of the Peace of Spring, absorb all the fire directed at it. Coren, how many torpedoes do we have left?”

“Four.”

“Launch them all at the destroyer. Now!”

All four torpedoes lanced through the dark, tearing toward the enemy. Tag’s fingers curled around the armrests of his crash couch. He leaned forward, watching the dots on the holomap showing the location of each. One was cut down by the destroyer’s defenses in seconds.

Three more to go. They only needed one to hit. One to split open the belly of the destroyer and tear it out of their path.

But two more were eliminated by the destroyer’s PDCs. Tag held out hope for the last torpedo, praying that they hadn’t expended their ordnance for naught. His hopes of getting on that ship rested on the solitary torpedo, a mere speck on the holomap.

His prayers went unanswered.

Defensive fire from the colonization ship protected the destroyer. Defiant, the ship continued firing on Tag’s allies, blocking their path.

“I cannot chart a trajectory around that destroyer,” Alpha said, between impacts rocking the energy shields and shaking the bridge.

“Estimates on shield strength of that ship?” Tag asked.

“Sensors suggest they are still at fifty percent.”

Tag tried to do the calculus in his head. Even with the concerted fire from the Crucible, the Revenant, and the Argo, he wasn’t sure they had enough firepower to finish that destroyer off. Eagle Squadron wasn’t equipped with bombers to do any significant damage. Calling off another ship attacking the Nano Node wouldn’t help either. By that time, the other six enemy destroyers moving in to reinforce the colonization ship would be here.

No, they had to find a way past this ship.

Tag considered their options. The Revenant could make it past the destroyer using the advantage of their flickering technology, but that wouldn’t help the Argo or the Peace of Spring. But if they couldn’t destroy the vessel, there was another option.

“Jaroon, Shor,” Tag said. “I’ve got an idea, but we need to act fast. It’s going to take everything your ships have.”

He told them his plan. It was wild, risky. And it would absolutely deplete the Crucible’s power reserves.

“Shields down to twenty percent,” Alpha said.

“Hold on just a little longer,” Tag said.

The destroyer appeared larger in their viewscreen. They were close enough that the ship’s weapons could no longer miss, and there was very little Sofia could do to evade the incoming fire. Their only hope was the stability of the shields—and Jaroon. The Crucible was now directly to the starboard side of the Argo, cruising dangerously close. On the other side of the Crucible, Raktor piloted the Peace of Spring.

Now they were engaged in a dangerous game of chicken. Tag hoped the memory of the Wolfhound’s deadly run was still fresh on the destroyer captain’s mind. Maybe the vessel would move out of the way of its own accord.

Incoming fire continued to pound their positions.

“Energy shields are down!” Alpha said.

Alarms filled the bridge, red lights flashing their dire warnings. Systems across the ship began overheating or failing, damage from the destroyer now ravaging the Argo.

Sweat beaded down the back of Tag’s neck, and he held his breath, waiting for a piercing fatal shot to take them all out. They were close enough to the destroyer now that the vessel blotted out nearly the entire viewscreen. The Argo rattled as an explosion sounded somewhere belowdecks.

When Tag judged they could take it no more, he called over the comms. “Jaroon! Now!”

A blue bubble erupted from the sleek, swan-shaped Crucible. It enveloped the Argo, and, Tag hoped, the Peace of Spring. The alarms still rang, red lights washing across the deck. But the boom of incoming fire diminished. The Crucible had encompassed them in its matter transmutation shields, buying them the seconds they needed to make it into the colonization ship. With the Crucible’s shield around them, the Argo passed through the destroyer as if they were both merely ghosts.

“Shield is collapsing!” Jaroon called over the comms.

It took a fraction of a second for them to complete their short journey through the destroyer. But that journey had cost the Crucible everything. The shield collapsed, fizzling out as the Argo’s had. The destroyer opened fire on all three ships. Tag watched in horror as new rents in both the Crucible and the Peace of Spring’s hulls formed, gas spewing out.

Another second passed, and suddenly the fire stopped rocking into their ships.

Tag glanced at the sternward viewscreens to see that the Revenant had flickered into existence directly behind them. The vessel absorbed the incoming fire, but Tag could see the Revenant’s shield had dropped too.

None of their ships were making it out of this alive. But at least there was one glimmer of hope remaining.

Ahead was the shredded opening that led into one of the colonization ship’s docking bays.

“Straight ahead,” Tag said. “We’re going to make it!”

But as the Argo began to decelerate, Tag saw the destroyer on their tail wasn’t the only immediate threat they faced. The Collectors had already assembled a welcoming party within the bay. Drone-Mech walkers, nano-golems, and other creatures and weapons Tag didn’t recognize.

“We got quite the welcoming party,” Sofia said. “What now, Skip?”

Tag swallowed the lump in his throat. “Now we fight.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Nearly a half dozen ships were docked in the bay, interspersed with the horde of nano-golems and aliens awaiting them. Walkers and spiders like those they had seen on Hannah’s colonization ship. Small arms fire smashed against the Argo, and a few of the walkers unleashed charged lasers that began burning through the hull.

“Take as many of those bastards out as you can,” Tag said to Coren.

Without any power to control itself, the Crucible crashed into the bay, crushing two of the parked warships and smearing some of the nano-golems and aliens across the deck. Sparks flew where metal ground against metal, and sapphire plates of armor tore off the Crucible. The vessel finally slammed into a massive bulkhead. Steam bled from gouges in the side of the ship.

Beside the Argo, the Revenant appeared, firing their smaller cannons. Arcs of lightning spread between the enemy forces, tearing into them.

“Crucible, weapon status?” Tag asked.

“Not functional,” Jaroon replied.

“Coren, target the Crucible’s attackers,” Tag said.

The PDCs unleashed all the power of the three hells on the attackers. The attackers found cover behind the other huge ships. Tag wasn’t willing to tell Coren to blast those vessels out of their way. Within the confines of the docking bay, the Argo couldn’t easily maneuver to a better shooting position, and if they tried to blast the other docked vessels out of their way, they would almost certainly cause a catastrophic fusion reactor failure in one of them, killing not only their enemies but the remnants of their invasion forces. The Crucible, Argo, and Spring would be nothing but drifting atoms.

“We can’t get a clean shot on the rest of them,” Tag said to Jaroon. “Can your troops hold out?”

“I’m afraid not,” Jaroon said.

“Commander, the Peace is taking heavy damage too,” Alpha said. “If the Collectors attack it, Raktor will be defenseless.”

“Go on without us,” Jaroon said. “We will die a glorious death!”

“No!” Tag yelled.

“Jaroon may be right,” Alpha said. “With Shor’s boarding party and our own, we may be able to rescue Raktor and make it past the enemy before Jaroon’s forces give out.”

“That’s what we have to do,” Coren said, launching another attack on a group of unwary nano-golems. “We can’t waste any more time here.”

“No way,” Sofia said. “We have to save them. This is Jaroon we’re talking about! The people on that ship represent some of the last survivors of his race.”

Tag understood both their points. The only way this attack on the colonization ship would be successful was if they were swift and decisive. By trying to save every life, they could very well doom everyone else.

“Alpha, tell Bull that his group should move out immediately,” Tag said. “Secure the area around the ship and prepare to advance toward the colonization ship’s CIC.”

“Yes, sir,” Alpha said, relaying the commands below deck where the marines, Mechanics, and a handful of Luminals were.

“Shor, we’re moving in,” Tag said, unstrapping from his restraints. “Hit the deck. We’re going for the rearward hatch. Follow the protocols Alpha’s transmitting now.”

“Affirmative,” Shor said. “May the Sovereign grant us wisdom.”

Shor’s ship continued to provide waves of cover fire, targeting the larger walkers slinging heavy lasers at the Crucible. Tag counted a few dozen aliens lugging heavy weaponry. Most of the surviving enemy force consisted of hundreds of nano-golems. He should’ve expected as much. As soon as they had started heading for this docking bay, the colonization ship would’ve mounted all their defenses here, preparing for the boarding attempt.

Tag stood from his crash couch. “Get your weapons. We move out.”

Alpha and Coren followed unflinchingly, arming their own pulse rifles.

Sofia was shaking her head as she joined his side. “We can’t do this. We can’t abandon Jaroon.”

“We’re not abandoning him,” Tag said. “We’ve got to continue our attack. But we’ll buy him and his crew time.”

“I hope you’re right, Skip.”

They ran to the cargo bay’s open doors. Already, Bull had his team of four marines, Bracken and her Mechanics, and the handful of Luminals who had been on the Argo in combat intervals around the outer hatch. They were firing into the ranks of nano-golems clambering toward their positions.

“Bull, I need you to launch the Reversal Agent,” Tag said. “Everything you’ve got.”

“Yes, sir,” Bull said. “Gorenado, Sumo, you heard him.”

The two marines let their rifles fall onto their straps. They each drew two other grenade launchers that were slung over their back.

“Target the forces near the Crucible,” Tag said.

Sumo and Gorenado let loose the grenade launchers. Silver canisters flew from the launchers in a tall arc, trailing plumes of white smoke. The smoke dispersed over the crowds of nano-golems. Once the canisters pinged against the metal deck, they let out a hollow ring before releasing a dense cloud of the Reversal Agent.

The marines launched two more of the canisters over the nano-golems.

“This is it,” Tag said to Alpha. “Our first real-world trial.”

Soon, the clouds of white dispersed. Tag imagined the tiny particles from their engineered bioweapon spreading through the air. A group of nano-golems advanced toward them, nearly thirty strong. They ran headlong into scorching plasma fire. Beads of nanites reformed over their wounds. They never stopped charging.

“Get ready to move out,” Tag called. He let loose a charged shot into a nano-golem. The monster’s arm bled away in a tangled mess of melted nanites, but that didn’t stop it.

“You sure this is going to work?” Sofia asked.

The first of the nano-golems were only a dozen meters away, closing the distance in huge strides. Even with the concentrated efforts of the soldiers and marines around Tag, he feared they were close to being overwhelmed.

One of the nano-golems cocked back an arm ending in a pointed blade. It began to sling the arm forward, aiming for a Mechanic desperately retreating and firing into the beast.

Suddenly, it burst into a spray of black beads. Then the four nano-golems behind it exploded like the first, turning into what looked like ash that slowly dissipated, as if they were dissolving into the air.

All around the room, the nano-golems fizzled away.

“The Agent is working!” Alpha cried.

“Good work,” Tag said. “To the Crucible.”

With the entire room cleared of nano-golems, the remaining defensive forces were demolished by Tag’s makeshift army. The Mechanics, Luminals, and marines all roared in victory, voices carrying almost as loud as the gunfire cutting down what remained of the enemy. Jaroon’s troopers bounded out of the Crucible in their bulbous armor, crashing against a few stragglers.

“Bull, take Alpha!” Tag shouted over the din. “Retrieve Raktor from the Peace!”

“You got it,” Bull replied. He signaled for his marines to escort Alpha to the Peace.

With the rest of the forces covering them, the marines made it to the Peace without heavy resistance. They disappeared in the huge freighter. Every second they were out of sight seemed to drag on in its own little eternity. Another minute passed before the marines came back out.

By now, Raktor would’ve taken over much of the ship. The plantlike alien’s main body would be several times larger than the marines. But Raktor was nowhere in sight when the marines and Alpha jogged back over to the rest of the group.

“Where is it?” Tag asked.

Alpha tapped her chassis and opened the panel to reveal a Raktor seedling. “We have a new little Raktor.”

“Raktor, what’s going on?” Tag asked over the comms. “You’re supposed to be with us. Not your seedling.”

“No, it would not be a kind thing for me to join you,” Raktor said. “You must go on without me. The Peace has taken too much damage... and so have I. I cannot leave the ship.”

“You have to come with us,” Tag said. “We’re wasting time.”

“Yes, yes, you are wasting time, Tag Brewer. Go. We are too big, too slow. We will only get you killed, which is not a kind thing. But we have this seedling, very small, very easy to protect. We trust that you will take the seedling to do what needs to be done.”

“Raktor, we can’t leave you here. If the enemy comes back...”

“We know what they will do,” Raktor said. “But the seedling knows everything we know. It will do what needs to be done with Alpha.”

“No, not Raktor too,” Sofia said. “Gods...”

The ice-cold fingers of dread squeezed at Tag’s insides, but there was no point in arguing with Raktor now.

“He’s not lying,” Bull said. “The ship... it’s a mess...”

“Our Raktor’s a brave damn alien,” Sumo said.

“Never thought I could love that thing as much as I do right now,” Lonestar said.

Tag turned away from the Peace then signaled for his team to advance. They began rushing between the singed warships and past the corpses of unrecognizable aliens, charging toward the hatch at the far end of the bay.

And as Alpha unlocked the hatch door with the new little Raktor’s help, Tag turned back to look at the Peace one last time, dark smoke billowing from the wounds in the vessel’s side.

“You’ve done a kind thing, Raktor,” Tag whispered. “A very kind thing.”

CHAPTER FORTY

The layout of this Collector ship appeared to mirror that of Ezekiel’s. Alpha mapped out the fastest route to the CIC. The Reversal Agent had spread, just as their simulations had predicted. No nano-golems appeared to defend the ship. The few armed defenders they ran across were more enslaved aliens. Despite the nearly catastrophic landing in the docking bay, they hadn’t yet lost a single human, Melarrey, Luminal, or Mechanic in the brief skirmishes in the belly of the Collector ship.

The loss of the Wolfhound as well as Raktor hurt. But there was no time for grief now.

A glance at the map on his HUD showed they were only a few minutes’ jog from the CIC now. They were nearly clear of the vast corridors. Then they could upload the virus that Alpha had developed, finally shutting down the vast nanite network.

“Captain Hibino, status report?” Tag called over the comms.

“We’ve sustained heavy losses,” Hibino recalled. “Two of the Raktor ships are disabled, engines down. Only three Luminal ships are still functioning, and the Broadsword is firing at twenty-five percent efficiency. Sixty percent of our fighter complement is gone.”

“Hold strong,” Tag said. “We’re almost to the colonization ship’s CIC.”

“Understood. I do have some good news. We’ve received reinforcements from Mechanics sent by L’ndrant. SRE ships, including some of the Montenegro’s fleet, responding to your call. They’ve barely arrived in the nick of time.”

“That is good,” Tag said. A wave of relief flowed through him.

“But there’s something else I think you need to see, Commander.”

A holovideo appeared across Tag’s HUD as he ran, relayed directly from the Grand Fury. Between the flash of pulsefire and streak of torpedoes, the Node drifted in space, the massive black diamond-shaped vessel silhouetted against the blues and greens of Earth. Dozens of smaller cylinders were shooting away from the Node, all headed toward the planet.

“What’s going on?” Tag asked.

“Sensor readings indicate high levels of grav wave activity. Likely nanite dispensing tech.”

“Of course,” Tag said. “They’re moving in to enslave everyone who doesn’t voluntarily join them. Can you intercept them?”

“Even with our reinforcements, we’ve been unable to break the Collector lines.”

“Gods, how long until those objects reach Earth?”

“Our predictions suggest no more than twenty minutes.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Tag said. “Alpha, did you catch all that?”

“Affirmative, Commander,” she replied.

“We’re on the clock,” Tag said. “Let’s finish this.”

The corridor ended at a large hatch. According to their map, just beyond the door lay the CIC. Shor stood at the closed hatch with thirty Luminal soldiers.

“We can enter first,” Shor said. “Clear the room and open it from the inside.”

“Careful,” Tag said. “We don’t know what we’re running into. Bracken, have your people start breaching the door. If anyone’s in there, I want their eyes on the hatch. Distract them for Shor’s troops.”

If the Reversal Agent worked, infecting the Collectors with their own nanites, then they might have a ready, if not willing, ally in there to let them into the nanite network.

“Take any Collectors in there alive, if possible,” Tag added.

Shor nodded, readying its troops near the bulkhead. A few of Bracken’s Mechanics used their wrist-mounted plasma cutters to tear into the alloy, slowly burning their way through the hatch. Once they were about halfway done, Tag signaled to Shor.

All the Luminals blinked away, vanishing. Shouting and gunfire exploded from inside the CIC. The action sounded frantic, hurried. From the sounds of it, there was far more than a solitary Collector in there.

“Shor, status report!” Tag called over the comms.

Shor never responded.

“Hatch clear!” one of the Mechanics yelled, peeling away the metal disc.

“Bull, go,” Tag commanded.

Bull rushed into the CIC with his marines, keeping in a tight room-clearing formation. Bracken led the Mechanics and Melarrey, with Tag, Sofia, Alpha, and Coren following. Tag scoped the room, his allies spreading out over the deck of the massive CIC. Giant viewscreens covered the inner bulkhead, showing the ongoing battle for Earth. Two large crash couches stood in the middle of the space. Next to them was a pair of Collectors. Both had gold bands wrapped around their wrists, and six Luminals surrounded them, weapons drawn.

Tag recognized one of the Collectors.

“Hannah?” he asked. “What in the three hells are you doing here?”

She looked up at him. “You came. Predictable as always.” Was there the shadow of a grin on her face? “You invaded one colonization ship, and I knew you’d try that same trick twice. And of course, you’d pick the easiest target, a colonization ship outside our defensive line.”

Tag’s stomach sank. She’d pulled him right into her trap. As much as he thought he knew her, she knew him just as well. But Hannah’s presence wasn’t the only thing unsettling about the CIC.

“Unfortunately, your Luminal friends interfered with our plans,” Hannah said dryly.

Shor was slumped against a bulkhead, its hand covering its abdomen. Its vacant orbital cavities turned toward Tag. Black liquid leaked over its fingers and dripped from the corners of its mouth. Another dozen Luminals lay nearby, their bodies riddled with gunfire. Zadra, the Luminal who had helped Tag develop the Reversal Agent, stood next to Shor, its weapon aimed at the Collectors, breathing heavily.  

Tag glanced at the two Collectors. Neither had weapons, and as far as he could tell, there were no other enemies.

“Alpha, start the network infiltration protocol,” Tag said, cautiously walking toward Shor. “What happened?”

Shor tried to talk, but more of that black liquid came out of its mouth with a cough.

Tag turned to Zadra. “Can’t you help? Three hells, are you just going to let Shor die?”

The marines, Mechanics, and Melarrey were slowly spreading around the room, waiting for a new enemy to appear.

“I could help,” Zadra said. “But I’m not going to.”

“Skip,” Sofia said cautiously.

Tag turned. The Luminals that were still standing had their weapons aimed at Tag’s allies. Zadra brought its weapon up toward Tag before he could bring his own rifle to bear.

“Drop your weapon, Brewer,” Zadra said. “All of you. Or we drop them for you.”

Tag felt the heat of the others’ eyes on him. If he tried to make a move, Zadra would kill him in a flash. Most of his crew would probably die, too, even if they did bring Zadra and its traitorous brethren down.

“Do it,” Tag said. “Listen to the bastard.”

All around came the clatter of his crew throwing their weapons to the deck.

“Zadra, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I promise you it isn’t worthwhile,” Tag said.

“Traitors,” Coren spat. “I knew it.”

Sofia glared at Zadra. She took a step forward, and two of the Luminals aimed their rifles at her chest, shouting for her to stop.

“I’m not listening to you assholes,” Sofia hissed.

“Don’t, Sofia,” Tag said. “These Luminals are confused.”

Shor lifted a hand covered in black blood. “This... is not... what the Sovereign...”

Zadra nodded at one of the Luminals, and the alien kicked Shor in the side.

“That fool might’ve trusted you, but I’ve seen what you humans are capable of,” Zadra said, indicating the Collectors.

“I told you these Luminals are dangerous,” Hannah said. “Tag, I wanted you here personally to show you what we can do with the SRE. You still have the chance to fight back against evil like this.”

One of the Luminals slammed the butt of its rifle into the side of her head, and her mouth crunched shut.

Zadra shook its head. “We’re not evil. We’re just trying to survive, just like you told me in the lab, Brewer.”

“What do you think we were trying to do?” Hannah asked, spitting out blood over the floor. She looked at Tag. “Survival is what drives all of us. You have a choice, Brewer. Help us—or die at their hands.”

Zadra let out a hollow laugh, its voice resounding throughout the wide CIC. “There’s nothing you can do. We’ve won.”

Alpha paused beside the terminal. The small Raktor’s vine-like arms were already plunged into the system.

“I do not have to cooperate,” Alpha said. “I can take over this network, stop the Reversal Agent, and direct the nano-golems to take down the Luminals.”

“No!” Zadra said. “You do that, and everyone you care about in here gets killed. These ugly Mechanics, your precious captain. Gone. Infiltrate their network, seize control, and give it to me.”

“Keep working, Alpha,” Tag said. He looked at the viewscreen. They only had ten minutes left before the nanites released over Earth, infecting the entire Earthside population. He had to buy some time, keep Alpha working, and figure out how to stop both these rebellious Luminal and the Collectors.

“You should’ve trusted... the Sovereign,” Shor managed. “You’ve seen... this man... this crew... fight.”

“Yes,” Jaroon said. “They fight for all of us. Not just the humans.”

“Listening to the Sovereign nearly got us all killed,” Zadra said. Then it looked at Jaroon. “And is your species any better off for your loyalty to this disgusting human?”

Zadra stepped in front of Shor, closing in on Tag.

“Shor, how can you be sure that the humans won’t decide this is the right path for them?” It gestured toward the Collectors. “They are power-hungry creatures. Paranoid and unfaithful, no matter what the Sovereign claimed.”

“No,” Sofia said. “I’ve spent my life studying other races. That’s what humanity is about. Seeking understanding, not war. That’s why we’ve worked so hard to stop the Collectors.”

Zadra let out another long laugh. “That isn’t true. Commander Brewer tasked me with developing a biologically engineered weapon. He is no better than these Collectors. You are all one and the same.”

“We talked about this. It was in defense—” Tag was caught off guard when Zadra fired a round into his arm.

Tag fell backward, clutching his arm. His suit responded with meds to stop the bleeding. But already blood leaked over his fingers.

“You’re mad,” Tag said through gritted teeth. “The world isn’t black and white, good and evil. There’s so much more nuance than that, and if you can’t see the difference, you’re no better either.”

“I was forced to help you thanks to our mutual circumstances,” Zadra said. “But I know how to preserve my species. Trusting you is not required. We will let the nanites infect your people, this primate scourge on the universe. When it’s done, I will control the network. I will control you. And you will never hurt anyone again.”

Alpha paused at the terminal, looking back at Tag. “I will not continue. I will not support this.”

Zadra leveled its rifle at Tag’s head. “I’ve shot him once. Don’t make me do it again, droid.”

“Do as he says,” Tag said, the words physically paining him.

They had come so close to victory, so damn close, and now all he could do was watch as the people he had thought were his allies betrayed him. The SRE was done, dead. A death he had helped bring about by trusting the Luminals.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Tag looked between the Luminals and his allies. Nearly twenty of the aliens had joined Zadra’s side, and the rest were dead or dying next to Shor. Bracken and her ten Mechanics stood alongside Jaroon and another ten Melarrey, plus Tag’s crew and the marines. He had the Luminals outnumbered, but they had used their advantage of surprise to draw a bead on Tag’s allies.

He saw no way out of this that wouldn’t result in losing at least half their forces. But far more lives than that were at stake on Earth, with only minutes remaining before the nanites spread.

“How much longer before you have control of the nanite network, droid?” Zadra asked.

“We have disabled this ship’s defensive systems,” Alpha said. “And in under two minutes, I will have access to the Node.”

“Very good,” Zadra said. It stood in front of Hannah. “You and your brethren thought they were building an empire for themselves. You didn’t realize you were building it for us, did you?”

Hannah’s face contorted in a snarl. “This is not over.”

“This will not end well for your people,” the other Collector said. “You cannot control what we have built.”

“We will learn,” Zadra said.

The viewscreen showed the nanite capsules entering Earth’s atmosphere. More enemy destroyers reached striking distance around the Grand Fury, and explosions ripped across the carrier’s hull.

Tag had trusted Shor. But he’d neglected to think about the other Luminals, the ones who might not believe in Shor’s leadership or the Sovereign, especially after all that had happened to their planet. Their fear was the same reason Starinski Labs and so many SRE civilians and armed forces had pledged allegiance to the Collectors, sabotaging the entire human race because they were so frightened of the unknown.

The fear of the Collectors made sense. Tag understood the distrust and terror that had driven the traitors to these drastic measures. But Tag had also seen the devastation that kind of distrust had caused around the galaxy. Species gone extinct. Peaceful planets ravaged by war and strife. Billions of innocent lives lost because a few leaders of so-called intelligent species couldn’t act intelligently.

Even if humanity survived today, how long would it be before someone else in the human race betrayed the SRE? Before another supposed ally of the SRE instead backstabbed them like Zadra?

Tag shared a glance with Shor as the golden alien bled out on the deck. He gave it a subtle nod, one that he hoped conveyed everything he couldn’t say in that moment. He wondered how strong a currency trust really was in the galaxy, because he was about to cash out everything he had. A nearly impossible choice had settled into his lap, and he was the only one who could make the decision.

“One minute until the nanites are released on Earth,” Alpha reported. “And I am thirty seconds from accessing the Node.”

“Thank you, Alpha,” Tag said.

“I could not do this without the Raktors, Commander. They are listening to every order, ready to act when we are.”

Tag glanced at Zadra. The Luminal didn’t seem to think anything Alpha had said was odd. The droid had always had a slightly off-kilter way of speaking. It took getting used to, and the Luminals hadn’t been with them that long.

While Raktor referred to themselves in the plural form, Tag and his crew never did. She was trying to tell him something.

“That is not all,” Alpha said, moving on smoothly, so as not to attract undue attention to whatever she was trying to tell Tag. “I think the Sovereign was right. I am accessing the Node’s data now. All the memories, the personalities of those enslaved by the nanites, are stored within the Node.”

Sofia looked past her captors. “Alpha, that Node communicates with everyone who has the nanites implanted in them, right?”

“Yes, Sofia, that is correct,” Alpha said.

Zadra looked between them all. Tag didn’t quite understand the blank features of Luminals enough to understand the alien’s expression, but if he guessed, it was something like curiosity.

Good. That might give him more time to figure out what came next. He hoped he was interpreting what Alpha had said correctly, but there was only one way to find out. He just had to wait for the right opportunity.

“That means...” Coren lowered his rifle. “You can install those memories and personalities back into the minds of all these people through their nanites.”

“Yes,” Alpha said. “I cannot restore the integrity of their native neural tissue, but we can use the nanites as a kind of synthetic intelligence. Like my mind: half-biological, half-synthetic.”

“You will prioritize the restoration of the Luminals and only the Luminals,” Zadra said.

“I told you,” Shor said, its voice weak. “The Sovereign was right... Alpha was the key... Commander Brewer created her... and it’s only because of him that...”

Zadra whipped its rifle around at Shor and fired. Golden light arced from the weapon, slashing into Shor’s chest. The Luminal went silent, but Tag noticed its ribs still expanding and deflating slowly.

Tag’s heart thundered, his mouth going dry. He slowly shook his head, trying to bite back his anger.

“We’ve reached the end,” Tag said. “Can’t we do this together peacefully?”

“The end is ours,” Zadra said, aiming at Tag again.

A sudden rumble shook the CIC. Tag fell to a knee.

Zadra’s rifle drifted up, away from Tag. Then everything else happened in seconds, action speeding around Tag as he acted on instinct. A huge panel fell away from the ceiling, forced open by a vine-like green tentacle. Gas hissed from a broken pipe, and more tentacles dropped into the room. Tag lunged forward, grabbing his weapon from the deck and bringing it to bear on Zadra.

All around him, the huge vines whipped into Luminals, pulling at their weapons. Some managed to fire, their shots tearing into Tag’s allies. Screams and yells exploded from every corner of the CIC, but Tag had eyes only for Zadra. He started to pull the trigger on his recovered weapon, but a sudden blinding flash of light appeared behind the Luminal.

Shor stood behind its former comrade, black blood dripping from its wounds. In its right hand, it held a blade that it plunged under Zadra’s chin. They collapsed together, Zadra instantly dead, Shor breathing heavily, fluid still pumping from its wounds.

Pulsefire burst from all across the room, pinging against the bulkhead between the green vines. Flames danced up the length of some, and Tag flinched in sympathy.

He swiveled on his heels. One of the surviving Luminals had aimed at Sofia. A quick burst from Tag’s weapon burned holes through the Luminal’s armor, and the alien crumpled forward. Next to her, Coren was struggling in hand-to-hand combat with another Luminal. Bull rammed hard into Coren’s attacker, laying the Luminal flat before Sumo ended the bastard with a shot to the chest.

“Nanites are about to be released!” Alpha cried.

“Stop them,” Tag said. “Do everything you can to stop them.”

Only a few more Luminals remained. One was already wrapped in the smoking vines, suffocating in the tentacles’ grasp. The last few were ended by Jaroon’s soldiers. Several of the Mechanics were sprawled across the deck—some injured, others dead. Two of Jaroon’s soldiers, too, had been leveled in the gunfire, and Sumo was on her back, holding her leg.

Both the Collectors remained seated in their restraints, vines wrapped around them.

“What in the machine’s name is that?” Bracken asked, aiming at one of the tentacles.

“That’s Raktor,” Lonestar said. “Our good friend.”

A huge beaked stalk broke through one of the ceiling panels, and what could best be described as the main portion of Raktor’s body dropped through. Half the plantlike being was blackened, its body flaking away.

“We are sorry we could not make it sooner,” Raktor said. “We tried to move as fast as we could, but we are hurt. Our seedling told us you were in danger.”

Tag patted one of the huge vines. “Raktor, you came right in time. Thank you. But we’re still not done here. Can you help Alpha?”

The tip of one of Raktor’s vines probed the terminal next to where the seedling was situated. But when Tag watched the vine plunge into the terminal, making a physical connection with the Collector network, he saw another casualty.

His world went dark.

“No, no, no!” He ignored the pain in his arm, running to Alpha.

She was slumped next to the terminal. A few wires still connected her chest to the terminal. But sparks flew from her joints. One of her arms had been shorn off, and her legs were a slagged mess.

That didn’t worry Tag. Her chassis could be repaired.

But what was inside her chassis, the synth-bio brain that made her Alpha, could not be replaced. Fluid leaked from the punctured chamber. That fluid kept the neural tissue, her lifeblood, nourished.

Tag had come to look at her not just as a friend but as a child of sorts. He had brought her into this world, taught her what it meant to be a human, and now...

“Alpha, are you with me?” Tag asked, kneeling next to her. “Gods, Alpha, please respond.”

“Commander? I am...” She was too weak to finish.

Coren dropped to Tag’s side. “We can fix her. We must.”

As much as he wanted to believe the Mechanic, Tag knew Coren was clinging to false hope. He blinked past the wet sheen forming over his eyes.

A voice boomed behind them. “Brewer, you’re looking at the evidence of your own foolishness, and still you would destroy what we’re accomplishing here today?”

Tag turned to face Hannah. Behind her, the viewscreen showed the Collector fleet leveling fire into the Grand Fury. Another of the Luminals’ ships was floating, drifting now in two chunks, each half venting atmo and plasma. The Broadsword was demolished, too, nothing left of it but blinking lifeboats and shuttles just like the Wolfhound. The new Mechanic and human reinforcements were suffering the same fate, scattered and already half-demolished.

The battle for Earth was almost over. And their final hope of thwarting the Collectors by controlling the Node was dying in his hands.

“Join us,” Hannah repeated. “Tell me you’ll stand down, and maybe I can protect you. You won’t make it out alive otherwise. This is your chance to save yourself. Your crew. Your father.”

Tag thought of the simulation of his father Hannah had created. The promises of a stolen future with his dad dangled in front of him. But he was done wrestling with false promises.

“No, Hannah. We’ll never submit.” He pulled out his sidearm and fired, the shots slamming into her chest.

“Then you will die!” Hannah’s Collector ally said. He tore free from Raktor’s grip, ripping through the burned plant matter, and charged.

Tag unleashed a burst of fire that took the monstrous Collector down.

Hannah struggled, but Raktor held her in place.

“I didn’t think... you could do it. Not you, Tag. Killing in cold blood.”

“It wasn’t cold blood.”

“Say what you need to,” she continued. “I brought you here because the Post-Humans want you. I want you.” Her expression softened. Gods, was Sofia right about Hannah’s weakness for him? “I want you to join us. Please. Redeem yourself and finish what Alpha started.”

“What did you tell me back on Orthod?” Tag asked, holding the gun up toward her. “Be the dragon.”

Tag recognized the look in her eyes. The same look he’d seen back on Orthod when she’d spoken so fervently of embracing the future. Of understanding all the galaxy had to offer. She was as zealous about pushing the boundaries of humanity as Shor had been in its belief of the Sovereign.

Lonestar stepped close to Hannah. “We could change her mind. She was human not too long ago.”

“I still am!” Hannah said.

“Then I’m going to give you the same choice you gave me. Call the colonization fleets off. Help us access the Nanite Node and free all those you’ve enslaved. Then maybe we’ll let you live.”

“You have learned nothing,” she said.

She managed to squeeze out of Raktor’s grip enough to wrap an arm around Lonestar’s neck. She pulled the marine in tight, and Lonestar lost her rifle.

“Listen to me, Tag!” Hannah roared in her banshee-like voice, squeezing Lonestar’s neck. “We are the future! Embrace it or die.”

He aimed his weapon at her face. For a second, he saw a flash of fear there. And in that moment, he saw Hannah as he’d known her once. A woman who had been as passionate about science as him. Who could have been his future in another life. But that feeling of recognition soon faded, replaced by hate.

The color of Lonestar’s face changed, her suit crumpling under Hannah’s immense strength.

“One more chance,” he said. “Surrender.”

“We will never surrender to you sapes!” she spat. “You’re making a—”

Tag fired before she could finish.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Hannah collapsed, and Lonestar dropped from her grip, holding her neck where the armored suit had crumpled. She was forced to remove her helmet, and Gorenado ran to her side, checking to make sure she was okay. She managed a nod.

As the marines took care of Lonestar, Tag knelt beside Alpha again.

Coren was examining her chassis. “If we remove her now and get her back to the Argo, I can stop the leaking. We can save her.”

“No...” Alpha said. “I...”

Instead of finishing her thought, Raktor began speaking. “We have a direct line with her. She wants to say that she cannot disconnect now. She has control over the Node, but if you remove her, then everything is lost.”

“Is there anything you can do for her now?” Tag asked Coren.

Coren shook his head helplessly. “I don’t have the tools...”

Tag fought a raging storm of emotions. A million things he wanted to say to Alpha circled his mind. But there was no more time for platitudes. Only action.

“Can she still hear us?” Tag asked Raktor.

“Yes.”

“Good. Alpha, keep fighting. We need access to the colonization ship’s weapons.”

A second later the terminal in front of the crash couch lit up.

“Coren, take the weapons,” Tag said.

He wanted to mourn Alpha. Wanted to comfort her in her final moments. But the rest of humanity was depending on him now.

“Prioritize defending the Grand Fury and the rest of the strike team. Jaroon, get to your ship and get it back out there if possible. If not, take one of the other ships in the docking bay. Bracken, take the Revenant. Both of you, start scooping up as many of those lifeboats as possible.”

“Understood,” Jaroon said.

“We will not fail,” Bracken said, leading her Mechanics out.

The only ones left in the space were Tag and his crew.

“Bull, keep an eye on the hatch,” Tag said. “We shouldn’t have any more intruders, but I’m tired of surprises.”

“You got it, Commander,” Bull said, signaling for his marines to take shooting positions around the CIC.

Sofia joined Tag’s side, holding one of Alpha’s hands. The seedling squirmed at the console, and the full-grown Raktor loomed beside them. If a plant could look anxious, Raktor did.

The cannons of the colonization ship boomed, sending fire into the enemy destroyers and other vessels. But that still left another eleven colonization ships.

“Alpha, can you gain control over all nanotech in the collector fleet?” Tag asked.

Raktor answered for her again. “She says she can. She has complete control over the Node and anyone or anything infected by the nanites, including the colonization ships.”

Tag shivered at the immense power they now wielded.

“Good. Take over all Collector colonization ships. Stop them from launching any additional forces or weapons. Have all Drone-controlled ships take any remaining Starinski ships prisoner. And if they won’t surrender, destroy them.”

“She says she understands,” Raktor said. Ashen flakes fell from his burned leaves and vines as he moved.

At first, there were no discernable changes on the viewscreen. Tag imagined the desperate battles being fought inside the colonization ships as nano-golems mutinied against their genetically engineered masters alongside the myriad of alien species that had been turned into nanite-infected Drones. Soon the weapons on the colonization ships ceased firing. The destroyers and other fighters slowed, drifting across space, their weapons and engines silent.

“You’re doing it, Alpha,” Tag whispered. “You’re saving us all.”

A few Starinski ships continued their assault on the Grand Fury. They were quickly destroyed when Alpha redirected the weapons from a nearby colonization ship toward them.

“Captain Hibino, we have complete control of the nanite network,” Tag said. “Finish off any Collector or traitor ships that don’t surrender.”

“Thank the gods,” Hibino said, exhaustion evident in her rattled voice.

“We’re almost done here,” Tag said. He put his hand on Alpha’s shoulder. “Alpha, can you upload the memories back into all the infected?”

“She says that she will,” Raktor said. “It may take several days, but the process has been initiated and will continue automatically. The grav wave communications should reach the farthest reaches of the galaxy within a week. The empire that the Collectors established will be dead. Nanites have been directed to destroy any surviving Collectors. What she has done cannot be altered. No one else will be able to access the Node. You will have complete control over it.”

“How?” Tag asked, dumbstruck.

“She has integrated her mind within the Node,” Raktor said. “Her mind is part of the Node, just as her mind and yours became one with the Sovereign’s. What she has done is a very kind thing.”

“So... she’s gone?” Tag asked.

Sofia clenched her fingers tighter around Alpha’s lifeless fingers.

“She is gone from this shell,” Raktor said. “The neural cells have died.”

“Gods...” Sofia said.

“She has one final request,” Raktor continued. “We do not like this request, but she is forcing us to tell you.”

“What is it?” Tag stood, facing Raktor.

“When she calculates that the uploads are complete, you must destroy the Node. She does not want it to fall into the hands of anyone else. It must be stopped.”

“But she’s in the Node,” Sofia said. “Doing that will destroy what’s left of her consciousness.”

“Yes, we agree,” Raktor said. “She is adamant, though. She says it must be done or someone else may try to rise to power. She says we cannot risk that. If she has learned anything about being human, she has learned that you must protect those you care about at all costs. And she cares about no one more than the people here right now. She wants to protect you all from ever facing such tragedy again.”

“Alpha...” Tag said.

At the weapons terminal, Coren paused a moment, and this time Tag knew emotion was boiling over in the normally stoic Mechanic. Sofia closed her eyes, sniffling under her clear visor.

Tag stood and faced the viewscreen. All the ships around Earth loomed silent and still. Their weapons were quieted. Over the next several days, all the people who had been enslaved would be waking up to a world far different than the one they’d been in when they had been infected. Confusion might drive some mad. Others would struggle with what they had done through no fault of their own, unwillingly conscripted into the Collectors’ forces.

Deeper in the galaxy, these same scenes would be replaying. Collectors would be overthrown by their thralls, the nanotech that they had developed ultimately destroying them and their fearsome reign over so many other civilizations.

Tag couldn’t imagine the vast amount of work ahead of the SRE, the Mechanics, the Melarrey, and so many other worlds as they struggled to rebuild what had been knocked down. He knew he would play some part in that and that perhaps the toughest days were still ahead of them. But for now, he couldn’t bear to face those realities.

“Is it safe to remove Alpha from the terminal now?” Tag asked Raktor.

“Yes, she says her body is nothing more than broken machinery,” Raktor replied.

Tag tried to lift the droid, but with his injured arm, he couldn’t manage it. Instead, Gorenado let his rifle fall on its sling and picked her up, making her look small in his large arms.

“Raktor, can we access the Node outside of the Collector ship?” Tag asked.

“Yes,” Raktor said. “With the seedling’s help, you can connect to the Node from your ship.”

“Very well,” Tag said. “We’re done here. Raktor, is the Peace of Spring salvageable?”

“We are afraid not,” Raktor said. “We may be able to scavenge another damaged ship.”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Tag said. “We’ll build you something newer. Something better. For you and your seedlings.”

“We thank you for this kind thing.”

“Thank you, Raktor,” Tag said. “You can ride with us for now.”

“We’re sorry for the seedlings you lost today,” Sofia said.

Tag offered her a hand, and she stood next to him.

“We are sorry for all the lives erased today,” Raktor replied, leaves quivering as a few more charcoaled flakes drifted to the deck.

“At least they died good deaths,” Bull said.

Tag nodded. He had heard the marines say that before, but he wondered if there really was such a thing as a good death. To him, death was neither good nor bad. Just a terrifying reality of life.

But there would be time for quiet contemplation of everything that had transpired later. For now, there was only one task at hand.

“It’s done, everyone,” Tag said. “We’ve won. Let’s get back to the Argo.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

One week later...

––––––––

“This is Texas, huh?” Lonestar said, walking alongside Tag.

“Not what you thought, is it?” Tag asked.

Behind them walked the other marines and Sofia. They wore civilian clothes as they traveled under the towering skyscrapers littering Old Houston. The oppressive humidity throbbed with the summer heat. Sweat covered them, despite their supposedly self-cooling clothes. They did their best to fit in with the crowds walking alongside streets filled with autodriving transport pods. But the news holos had spread faster than a nanite infection in the days following their narrow victory over the Collectors.

Civilians gave them questioning glances as recognition set in. Tag could see the confusion in their faces, wondering if this was really the crew they had seen on the holos. Occasionally people stopped, thanking them for what they had done. Others regaled them with tears in their eyes, telling stories of relatives who had been infected with the nanites only to return to them when Alpha had subverted the Collectors’ control over the network.

Most simply ignored them, caught up in their own lives. It gave Tag a striking sense of normalcy to see people concerned about running errands or heading to work or taking their children to some appointment instead of an impending world-ending war. Despite all that had happened, people adapted. Governments worked to recover. The world turned, continuing its orbit around the sun.

Life went on.

“It’s hot,” Lonestar said. “Just like what I thought it would be. But there are a lot fewer horses.”

“Everyone says that,” Tag said, laughing.

They passed under buildings lit up with holos and neon lights advertising everything from restaurants to legal services and clothes. One was topped with a rotating holo of a cowboy boot, offering genuine lab-made leather products.

“We don’t have any other ceremonies or meetings today, do we?” Lonestar said.

“No, you all are done for the day,” Tag said.

“Good,” Lonestar said, eyeing the rotating boot. “Think it’s high time for me to get a new pair of kicks.”

“This ought to be interesting,” Gorenado said.

“I want in on this,” Sumo said. “Could use a break from all the diplomacy nonsense.”

Bull huffed his agreement.

“See you all at the Nouvaeu,” Tag said, waving at them as they ducked into the store.

The Nouvaeu was the hotel the SRE had put them up in just south of Houston. Tag’s crew had been given massive suites with private swimming pools, real human butler service, and beds more luxurious than a cloud.

All this opulence, they had been told, was a reward for their bravery.

But Tag didn’t feel as though they had done anything brave. They had merely done what needed to be done. Guilt ate at him every night they spent in that hotel.

“It’s not fair that we’re living some kind of high life when so many others died to get us here,” Tag said to Sofia after the marines left.

“It’s not,” she agreed. “We don’t deserve this. Any of this. The accolades, the medals, the pats on the backs. All those people who died, from Captain Holland to Private Mezo on Eta-Five to the Mechanics or Jaroon’s people—they deserved this just as much, if not more than us. But these rewards and recognitions aren’t really for us anyway. It’s for all the people, civilians or otherwise, who feel indebted. They want to show their appreciation. Makes them feel better, you know?”

“Well, in that case,” Tag said, “I wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful for how people have treated us, but I’d rather be back on the Argo. Back in the lab for that matter.”

“Me, too,” Sofia said. “All this time, it’s just been us on that ship... and before that I was living with the Forynth. I think I’ve forgotten how to be around normal people, especially in a city like this.”

“I don’t count as a normal person?”

Sofia laughed. “Hardly. A medical officer turned adventurer? Not to mention strike group leader.”

“Says the xeno-anthropologist with piloting skills.”

They walked along in relative silence for a few blocks, passing between the crowds. Without the marines marching behind them, it was much easier to become anonymous with the throngs of people.

“What plans do you have next?” Sofia asked.

“Tonight, I’ve got a call with Admiral Doran,” Tag said. “But that’s it.”

“That’s not really what I was talking about,” Sofia said. “But now that you bring it up, you want to do dinner?”

“I’d be open to it. What time should I tell the marines?”

Sofia laughed again. “I’m talking about just the two of us. Relive the old days when you and I were the only two humans on the Argo, surrounded by aliens. What do you think?”

Tag looked at Sofia, the glimmer of the afternoon sun reflecting in her brown eyes. “Yeah, that would be nice. You know, for all that time you spent with the Forynth, you never really told me all that much about them. And I have a lot of questions.”

“Good,” Sofia said. “Because I’ve got loads of stories.”

They walked another few blocks, carrying on their conversation until they reached the building Tag had been dreading to visit.

“This is my stop,” Tag said. “See you tonight.”

Sofia smiled. “Looking forward to it.” She started to walk away then turned back. To his surprise, she threw her arms around him and pulled Tag into an embrace. “Remember all the good times, even if he can’t. They’re still in there somewhere, and always will be.”

“Thanks,” he said as she left him, disappearing into the crowd.

Tag entered the building and checked in at the front counter with a service droid. The droid led him down a hallway lined with doors, each decorated with holoimages of smiling families, scenes from nature, or picturesque images of cities from around the world. Nurses walked up and down the length of the hall, periodically checking in through the doorways, and Tag smelled the savory aroma of fresh cooked meals on an automated food cart rolling between the various rooms.

Finally, the service droid stopped at a doorway decorated with images Tag recognized. His mother. Him. And even one of the Argo from before he was shipped off in the vessel, what seemed like decades ago.

He knocked on the door and entered.

An old man was lying in a hospital bed, his head propped up. His eyes were open, watching a holostream projected in the middle of his room. It showed a news stream documenting the Mechanic Grand Elector L’ndrant visiting SRE officials in diplomatic meetings accompanied by Admiral Doran, promising new economic and scientific agreements between the two species. The newscaster claimed this would set a precedent for SRE cooperation with all the new civilizations discovered during the brief and deadly war with the Collectors.

Tag sat down on the seat adjacent to the bed. The old man never took his eyes off the holo. For a moment, Tag watched him, mentally mapping the wrinkles and wispy white hair. He looked so much older than when Tag had left. So much older even than the simulated image Hannah had created.

“Hello,” Tag said.

The man turned his head. “Time for dinner already?”

“No, Dad,” Tag said softly. “It’s me.”

There was no recognition in his father’s eyes. The man’s mind had been stripped of memories by the neurodegenerative disease riddling his brain. Tag and his crew had been able to restore the minds of billions of people across the galaxy, but this was one that had eluded him. It hadn’t been affected by nanites but by human biology. And for all his medical training, Tag could do nothing to help his own father.

The man studied Tag. Then his eyes grew wide. “Oh, I know you!”

“You do?”

“Of course I know who you are,” his father said, pointing at the holo. An image of the Argo crossed the news stream. “You’re that young captain who saved the world. I saw you on the news holos.”

Tag let out a soft chuckle. “That’s right.”

“I thought so,” his father said, grinning. “Why are you here, Commander?”

“Do you know who else I am?”

“Not a clue,” he said cheerfully.

“I’m your son.”

His father’s grin vanished. “I don’t know. My son’s younger. Much younger.”

“I’ve grown a little.”

“I don’t remember that. Where’s your mom? I can ask her.”

“Let’s not bother her,” Tag said, putting his hand on his father’s. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that she had been gone for years. “It’s okay.”

Then his father’s face twisted into a warm, reassuring smile. The same smile Tag recalled when he’d tried his hand at riding a bike for the first time and fallen. Or when he hadn’t gotten into his first choice of SRE academies. “You know what? You look like a trustworthy man, and if you’re not trying to pull one over my head, then I have to say, I did a damn fine job of making a son like you.”

Tag laughed. “You sure did.”

“Now that you saved the world, what are you going to do next, son?”

Tag looked at his father, his eyes brimming with emotion. “I think I’d like to get back to my old job.” He thought of all the wonders of nature that had yet to be found on far-reaching planets. But those weren’t the only discoveries to be made. There were still mysteries in human physiology to solve. And Tag was looking at one now. “I think I’ll get back to my lab. Coming up with cures as a doctor instead of flying around as a captain.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds nice.”

“That’s right,” Tag said. He sat with his father a while longer. The man seemed to fade in and out, repeatedly questioning who Tag was. Not being recognized hurt, but at least his father was still alive, and no matter how bad things were, there was a glimmer of hope. That if he started down this road of research, even if he didn’t help his father, he would help another son or daughter or husband or wife out there.

It was a monumental challenge, to be sure. But so was defeating the Collectors.

All he needed was the right crew willing to help. Then he knew he could accomplish damn near anything.

***

Outside the city, one of the SRE’s largest spaceports was set up near the gulf. The Old Houston Spaceport managed normal civilian space traffic, as well as the SRE Navy’s. Tag sat in an autopod, driving past rows of docked ships. Most of the vessels here were frigates and destroyers. Even a few dreadnaughts lurked among them. Many were scarred by the previous week’s battle, huge panels of armor missing and gun placements shorn off. Technicians, engineers, and repair bots crawled over the vessels like insects, plasma welders sparking as they performed repairs.

Tag spotted the Argo. It wouldn’t be long before he returned to town for dinner with Sofia, but he had work to finish first.

The autopod slowed to a stop and let him out next to the ship. He paused, looking up at the Argo’s neighbor. The Peace of Spring had been recovered from the colonization ship. It had been in utter disrepair, but SRE engineers were working beside Bracken’s Mechanics to turn the strange vessel into a brand-new ship. In the meantime, its vital functions had been restored so Raktor could retreat inside to heal with its seedling. The engineers Tag had talked to complained that Raktor would not stop thanking them for the kind things they were doing.

Jaroon’s sapphire ship was docked nearby, too. The big bulbous alien was outside his vessel, overseeing his people performing their own repairs. Tag waved at the alien, and Jaroon waved back, his body undulating with that strange jellyfish-like quiver.

Jaroon and Bracken had been instrumental in saving the SRE service members who had been stranded in lifeboats. They’d directed the initial rescue operations until the SRE could mount their own attempts. He admired the courage they’d shown helping to protect a species they barely knew, and he doubted there was anything he could ever do to repay the debt he owed them.

His boots clanged on the ramp into the cargo hold as he made his way inside the Argo. Lucky greeted him with a flick of her tails when he entered and followed him through the familiar corridors.

“It’s been quite the journey,” he said, scratching the back of the Rizzar’s head.

She let out a mewl of agreement.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need you to wait out here,” he said, patting her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you out for a walk later.”

She huffed, then curled up on the floor as he entered the lab.

To his surprise, there was already someone inside when he opened the hatch.

“Coren, you’re not supposed to be here,” Tag said.

Coren’s lips twitched. “Come on. You expect me to sit this out?”

“Sit what out?”

“There’s no need to play dumb with me, human.”

Tag sighed. “Alpha told me to keep this quiet. She didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it. She said she would prefer if we didn’t mourn for her.”

“Impossible,” Coren said.

Footsteps sounded outside the hatch, and Sofia came in next.

“Thought you could do this without us, huh?” she asked, looking nearly breathless. “I ought to slap you silly, Brewer. I had to run all the way here.”

“You told her?” Tag asked Coren.

“She may get under my fur, but I did not think she would forgive me if I didn’t.”

“You’re damn right. I’d make the rest of your life a living hell.”

Coren held up his six-fingered hands in a placating gesture. “Like I said.”

“How’d you find out?” Tag asked.

Coren shrugged. “Mechanic technology has always been superior to human tech. To think you could secretly communicate with Alpha without me knowing.”

“Seriously?” Tag asked. “If our comms are compromised—”

Coren laughed. “I overheard you talking to Alpha when I was on the ship doing some maintenance. Truly, nothing sophisticated.”

“Thank the gods,” Tag said. “Now that all this is spoiled, let’s get it over with, huh?”

They nodded, and Tag moved to a terminal set up in the lab. Raktor had helped him establish a connection to the Node. Tonight, the last of those enslaved by the nanites would have their minds restored. Following the final transmission, the Node was set to be annihilated. The SRE had a fleet of destroyers floating around it, ready to turn it into slag. Alpha had promised that she could destroy most of the Node herself, but the destroyers would serve as backup if she failed.

Tag had no doubt she would succeed, and for that, he was sorry. Once the Node was gone, so too would be what little remained of her.

“Alpha, this is Tag. Do you read?”

A computerized voice sounded back over the terminal. Nothing like Alpha’s old voice, but even talking to her through this facsimile made him long to see his friend again.

“I am here, Commander Brewer,” she replied.

“I tried to follow your wishes, but Coren and Sofia found out what was happening. They wanted to be here, too.”

“I assumed they would. They are both very stubborn.”

Sofia laughed. “Let me speak to that damned droid.”

Tag stepped aside, and Sofia began her goodbyes, thanking Alpha for her service and friendship. She wiped at her eyes as she finished.

“I’m going to miss you, Alpha,” she said.

“Thank you, Sofia,” Alpha said. “The emotions of sorrow and longing have affected me the most over the past several days. Those are emotions I do not like very much.”

“But they do make us appreciate what we have,” Coren said. “And what I have are memories of a ragtag crew of two humans and an android. I never thought I would be stuck on a dirty human ship. By the machine, you three...” He broke off. “I hesitate to admit it, but you three are by far the most important people in my life. I do not know how we will get along without you, Alpha. And I’ll never understand how a primitive human like Tag created you.”

“He did not create me alone,” Alpha said. “Half of me is biological, crafted by nature, and developed through my own maturation.”

“Ah, that solves that mystery,” Coren said, letting out a shaky laugh. The Mechanic pressed his hand against the terminal. “Goodbye, Alpha. I will never forget you or what you have done for us all.”

Finally, it was Tag’s turn. For a moment, he didn’t think he’d be able to speak past the lump in his throat.

“I’m not sure how to begin,” Tag said. “You mean more to me than you can ever know, Alpha. You’re not just some experiment. You’re a friend. Gods, you’re family. You saved our lives. You saved the entire human race and so much more. Without you, there would be no future for any of us. No hope for free civilizations anywhere in this galaxy. You saved the very concept of sentience, Alpha. There is nothing I can say, nothing I or anyone else can do, to properly convey just how much you’ve done for us. I am so very proud of you.”

“I would do it again quite gladly,” Alpha replied. “I owe you and the SRE my existence. I never would’ve had a life, however short, if it were not for you. I believe I have lived a life worth living. Perhaps I have experienced more in my time in space than most humans get to experience in all their years on Earth.”

“You’re not wrong,” Tag said. “Alpha, are you sure you want to do this?”

“I have no choice.”

“You do have a choice. There’s always a choice.”

“And every time, I will choose this one.”

Tag inhaled slowly. “Okay, then let’s begin the sequence. Start the transmission and initiate the countdown to self-destruction.”

“Yes, Commander Brewer.”

The numbers on the terminal screen counted down from thirty. As they did, Tag waved his hand over a holopad. An image showed an observational satellite image of the Node.

“Here we go,” Tag murmured.

They all watched quietly until the timer reached one. Then with a flash of blinding light, the Node collapsed. It imploded into a small sphere of burning golden fire before exploding outward in a dazzling flash. A few seconds later, there was nothing left.

The Node—and Alpha’s consciousness aboard it—was gone.

Tag set down the holopad.

“Skipper, what did you mean by transmission?” Sofia asked. “What did she transmit?”

“We weren’t sure it would work,” Tag said. “But since you’re both here...”

He led them into the lab’s isolation chamber. This was where he had first created Alpha. A new M3 medical droid chassis was laid out on the table with wires snaking from a data port into the canister within it. Just like in Alpha’s original body, Tag had constructed a life-support system. A small cylinder within held the fluids that kept the synth-bio brain alive. Neural cells that Tag had matured during his brief tenure on Earth were already growing inside of it.

He just needed one last component. A synthetic intelligence, which, if he had done it right, would be uploaded into the droid’s core.

“You didn’t,” Sofia said. “Is this...?”

“You humans never fail to surprise me,” Coren said. “You’re truly hoping to achieve a miracle a second time.”

“It’s no miracle,” Tag said. “This is science.”

He took a holopad off the wall and gestured toward it. “If our timing was correct, then Alpha will be installed inside this chassis.”

A command prompt shone on the holopad asking if he wanted to initiate power to the unit. This was the ultimate test. The moment he would find out if the risks he’d taken to transport Alpha’s mind back into this unit paid off.

“You made us say all those sappy things to her, and now you’re going to bring her back,” Sofia said, planting her hands on her hips.

“We still don’t know that it was successful or even if her mind would return as it was,” Tag said.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Coren asked. “Initiate the damn sequence.”

Tag sucked in a breath and gestured on the holopad. Power surged into Alpha’s new chassis, and the life-support system whirred. An electric whine coursed through her body as servos activated.

Even if he brought this droid back to life, there was no guarantee it would be her. For that matter, there was no guarantee it would be friendly.

The first time Tag had done this, he had failed, not quite understanding what he was doing. Alpha had nearly killed him.

“Initiation complete,” chimed the holopad.

“Alpha, are you there?” Tag asked.

Sofia squeezed his hand. He could feel the clamminess in her palms as her fingers tightened around his. Coren leaned over the droid’s chassis, his snakelike nostrils flaring, his single eye wide with anticipation.

Tag thought back to the promise he’d made to his dad.

He needed his crew.

All of his crew.

“Alpha?” Tag tried again.

His pulse beat in his ears so loudly he thought he would go deaf. He was nearly shaking, quivering like a spacecraft jolting through hyperspace.

And then, it happened.

Lights shining like the sun at dawn, Alpha’s eye screens opened.

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The End of the Eternal Frontier Series

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Thank you for reading Dark Abyss (The Eternal Frontier, Book 5). I sincerely hope you enjoyed the series. If you did, would you please leave a review? You can leave one as short or as long as you like.

Reviews are crucial to authors. They help us figure out what people did and didn’t like, along with helping tell potential future readers what to expect. I greatly appreciate any and all reviews!

It has been an exciting ride across the galaxy and beyond with Tag and his crew. For now, the crew of the Argo gets a well-deserved rest. I don’t know what kind of adventures they’ll take on in the future, but I do know that there are loads of other stories, both on and off this planet, that I plan on telling. If you want to join the journey and hear about what’s next, sign up for my mailing list here: http://bit.ly/ajmlist

I won’t spam you, and I only email my readers when I’ve got something new out or some special deal for you. For signing up, you’ll also receive two free books, Fatal Injection and No Refuge from the Dead.

I love to hear from my readers. If you want to get in touch, there are a number of ways to reach me.

Facebook: www.facebook.com/anthonyjmelchiorri

Email: ajm@anthonyjmelchiorri.com

Website: http://www.anthonyjmelchiorri.com

Also by Anthony J Melchiorri

The Tide (Tide Series #1)

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Captain Dominic Holland leads a crew of skilled covert operatives and talented scientific personnel. He’s taken them to all corners of the earth to protect the United States from biological and chemical warfare. When his CIA handler, Meredith Webb, gives him a mission to investigate a disturbing lead on a laboratory based out of an abandoned oil rig, they discover the most terrifying threat to mankind they’ve ever faced—a genetically engineered biological weapon called the Oni Agent. 

Find it here: http://bit.ly/thetidenovel

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Enhancement (Black Market DNA #1)

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In the year 2058, Baltimore’s latest crime epidemic is illegal genetic enhancements. Convicted dealer Christopher Morgan finds himself on a hit-list before he’s even released from prison. In a race for survival, he must uncover a shocking conspiracy involving organized crime and genetic engineering.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1rhSboa

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The God Organ

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Brilliant biomedical scientist Preston Carter introduces an implantable artificial organ designed to grant its recipients near-immortality. But many of those recipients are suddenly dying. With the organ already implanted in his own body, Carter must uncover the truth before he’s killed by his own invention.

Find it here: http://amzn.to/1yjmMGF

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The Human Forged

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Former Army Specialist Nick Corrigan is abducted and unwittingly becomes embroiled in a biotechnological nightmare. He embarks on a dangerous adventure to return home. The only person that might be able to help him is a man Nick never knew existed—his clone. 

Back in Washington, CIA analyst Sara Monahan makes a startling discovery while tracking the use of biological weapons in an ongoing war in Africa. She races to uncover a global conspiracy that may shake the very essence of what it means to be human. 

Find it here: http://bit.ly/thf14